#when he couldn’t trust her as far as he could throw her

[aaandbackstabbed]

Scrooge: you’re such a liar!

Goldie: what, I can’t even lie to you anymore?

Goldie: you’re so demanding

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

Spies and Secrets

Summary: Natasha has never met her handler, she couldn’t give you their name or identify their face because she doesn’t know it. When she rants about this to you, her wife, you have to laugh... because you are her handler.

Word Count: 2048

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, lying in the relationship (not in a bad way, just in a spy way), but otherwise it’s just fluff!

A/N: I went back and wrote this idea since it seemed semi-popular. Hope you enjoy :)

»»————-　★　————-««

"Will you finally tell me who they are?"

"This again, Romanoff?"

"Just a first name?"

Fury sighs to make his vexation clear, but that's not enough to dissuade Natasha; she remains determined as ever in her mission and smirks boldly in the face of her exasperated boss.

"Just an initial will get me off your back," the spy continues through his silence.

Fury scoffs and Natasha knows she needs a different approach.

"If it's you, you can just say, Sir."

"Me? You must be losing your touch if you think I have the time for that, Romanoff. Should Hill be taking your next mission?"

Natasha stops and stares with faux hurt while Fury continues on, grinning to his own amusement. He wasn't going to let her keep the upper hand for long.

"If you want to know, ask them yourself!" Fury calls over his shoulder, "Mission debrief. C12-2. 10 minutes. They won't tell you though; above your clearance!"

Natasha groans. As much as she hadn't expected a substantial answer from Fury – she'd been asking him the same question for years – she thought she might be getting somewhere, but no matter which trick she tries, Fury doesn't budge.

On top of that, he'd reminded her that it wasn't home time yet, her mission isn't over until she's briefed her mysterious handler. So Natasha sighs and makes her way to the conference room, still wondering why only her handler chose to shroud themself in mystery. All the other agents meet theirs directly, while Natasha sits in a room alone, waiting for a shadowy silhouette to call in.

The first few years went by without a comment – it wasn't her place to ask – but as she rose the ranks and found her role, her handler, too, remained just above her clearance. Even now, as one of the highest ranking agents, her handler was higher still. Curiosity built like a dripping tap; manageable and menial to start, only to provoke greater displeasure the longer it went on.

"Hi Agent!" the disembodied voice crackles through the speakers. That's the other thing driving Natasha towards irritation, her handler's tone. It's nothing like Fury's commanding orations. No, her handler speaks with an eagerness and informality reminiscent of a junior agent meeting their hero, rather than the commanding officer that they are, and have been, since Natasha first joined SHIELD almost a decade ago.

"Officer." Natasha replies. She had never been told her handler's surname, or even a title she could use to address them. Any attempts she made to learn had been properly shut down, forcing her to stick with the appellation of Case Officer.

"Always so formal," her handler laughs. "As far as I'm aware, the mission was successful, so what's got you so grumpy today?" they continue, noticing an uncharacteristic clarity to Natasha's mood that day.

"If you told me your name, I wouldn't have to be so formal, would I?" the spy snaps back. "And I'm not grumpy."

"Natasha, we've worked together for nearly 10 years now. I know when you're grumpy, and I can throw in an educated guess that my identity is the cause?"

"I've spent my life working in secret," Natasha shrugs, then pauses in search of the right words. "I'm well accustomed to dubious legalities and taking orders from the shadows. I'm also well aware that I would be a risk to security from the moment I joined until I gained the trust of this organisation, so I understood your secrecy."

Natasha stops again, noticing the silhouette begin to fidget; whether out of boredom or discomfort, the assassin can tell the time is right to make her final argument.

"We've worked together on hundreds of missions over this past decade, enough for you to know every detail of my life and mind, while I still know nothing about you. Have you thought about how that might hurt, officer? because it does! to believe I still haven't gained your trust after all this time. That hurts."

The room stills to a silence as fragile as Natasha felt. Her handler's reaction would dictate the situation; any information given could redefine the relationship between the two spies, just as another brush off would leave Natasha spiralling further into this curiosity.

A sigh finally echoes through the speakers; its long pause circling the sole inhabitant of the room. "It's above your clearance," the voice admits. Natasha slumps; she should have known better. "But-" The speed at which Natasha perks up draws out a small chuckle from her handler, before they continue with an audible smile, "I'll talk to Fury. See what I can reveal."

Natasha settles in her seat, unable to keep the broad smile from her face. "I do trust you, Romanoff, I hope you know that… I just don't think I'll be who you expect."

As a trained spy, Natasha wouldn't let that last line slide, immediately thinking of its hidden meaning. But before she can ask further questions, her handler clears their throat. "I think it's time we actually start the mission debrief."

»»————-　★　————-««

Natasha can't wait for the meeting to end. She understands the need – giving her side of the story, answering questions, sharing the intelligence she'd gained – but it drags on without incident and without any further comments on her handler's identity, so she'd much rather be at home. 

What reason was there for her not to do this from home? Her handler calls in from wherever they are, so realistically, Natasha could also pick up from wherever she is. Ideally at home, after a relaxing shower and a little time with her wife. Natasha supposes that's where the issue may lie: you, her wife, who has been led to believe Natasha is a security guard and nothing more. If you overheard a debrief, not only would SHIELD's confidentiality be compromised, but you might never forgive her lies. Natasha's home office was soundproofed though and, because of that, the assassin would take the risk if it means extra time with you.

Throughout Natasha's homeward journey and all through the mission debrief, you are the only thing to occupy her mind. Her mission finished in late afternoon, so she had planned how she would surprise you and spend the evening together upon her return, but then the debrief cropped up, and by the time her key is in the door, the sun has long since set, leaving her to wonder if you're even still awake.

You are. Just about. Your pyjama clad figure appears in Natasha's sight and you rush down the stairs to meet her by the door.

"You're home!" You beam as you wrap your arms over her shoulders and take her cue for a kiss.

"I am."

"How was your mission?" you tease. You know how seriously she takes each assignment, always doing prep work in her office ahead of the trips; she treated them akin to a secret mission and you never missed your chance to rag her for it. 

One of your favourite methods of teasing is to liken her to James Bond, which only gets more realistic when you catch her mouthing along to the movie lines.

"Top secret. Can't tell you," your wife jokes back, her smile threatening to burst off her face.

"No injuries this time?"

"None at all."

"Good girl." She preens. "Have you had dinner?"

"Not yet, I came home as soon as I was done. Couldn't wait to see you."

"Sweet talker," you laugh and kiss her again, then take her by the hand, "I put some leftovers in the fridge, you clean up, then you can eat and share your 'top secret' thoughts."

The evening's plan formed just like that; you reheat the noodle dish while Natasha takes a shower, before the two of you come back together to sit at the dinner table.

"So, how was it really?" you ask her.

"The job itself was alright, no problem." Natasha replies, but by the way she's stabbing the noodles with her fork, you can tell something else is coming. "But my bosses…they just won't tell me all the information. Say it's 'above my clearance'."

"The cheek of them."

"Don't mock me."

"I'm not, I'm not! I promise, love," you say, though you can't hide your barely contained laughter thanks to the prominent pout on your wife's face. You school your face back into an expression of neutrality before you talk again, "that sounds annoying. Do you need this information?"

"No," she sighs, "it's just a matter of trust."

"Well, you must be working with idiots for them not to trust you after all this time."

"Mm, you reckon I should tell that to them?"

"You definitely should."

The smile comes back to Natasha's face as she shakes her head, "you're going to get me fired, sweetheart."

"You're too good for them to do that. Just keep it up, you're going to be leading them one day, I'm sure of it. Then all the secrets are yours."

»»————-　★　————-««

Another week, another mission. And with another mission comes another mission debrief. Natasha asked for her handler's identity three weeks ago and still knows nothing more. With how poorly her recent mission went, she doesn't even feel like asking the question again.

"What went wrong, Romanoff?" that same anonymous figure asks her, and Natasha can only groan: what didn't go wrong?

"We were ambushed to start with; whoever gave us the heads up got their information wrong, or someone sold us out. Either way, the plan went to shit the moment we arrived and the team went to shit by throwing mole accusations around. Splitting up only made it worse; nobody trusted their teammates to do their parts and it resulted in a mad scramble. My orders were ignored, but my team members were injured and I take full responsibility."

"That won't be necessary, Agent," the voice hums, "as leader, the responsibility falls on you, yes, but it is each agent's responsibility to trust in you and follow your plan, and you will not be faulted for working with idiots who don't trust you."

Natasha starts to defend her team, before the familiarity of the phrase has her searching through her mind for a recollection. What she does remember is a long shot, but she'll lose nothing by asking.

"Do you have a wife, Officer?"

"I do," they reply.

"Is she a redhead?"

"She is."

"Works for SHIELD?"

"Why, it's almost like you know her," the handler goades. If one had an illustrated list of all of SHIELD's employees, they would know that the short game of 'guess who' still left a couple dozen potential employees in the running, but the teasing and testing tone is the final clue Natasha needs to make her assumption.

"Y/N/N?"

"Hey love," you reply, with as much adoration as you can muster, glad to finally be rid of the voice modulator while you talked to your wife.

In front of Natasha, the screen flickers before the silhouette that had become so familiar to her is replaced by another familiar sight in another familiar location: the smiling face of her wife…in her office.

Natasha's face falls at once, striking you with panic that this wouldn't be the gleeful revelation that you'd expected; that is, until the assassin speaks again. "Is that my desk?"

"It's your whole office, my love. I'm not taking these calls from our bedroom."

"Is that why it's sound proofed?"

"I gave the approval for that, if you remember, and it's certainly not because you're taking SHIELD calls at home; you haven't even had one while we've lived together!"

"That's because you organise it straight after the mission so I don't have time to go home!"

"Because that's where I am! you'd be suspicious otherwise."

Natasha falls silent for a moment. You know her well enough to leave her to her thoughts, only twiddling your thumbs as you watch her through the screen.

"So can I do debriefs at home now?"

"I don't see why not," you shrug, "remember I still have to take notes though, so I get the desk and no cuddling until after."

"No chance of that."

"Come back now, Romanoff, and we can put it to the test," you challenge.

She accepts. "I'll be there in 30."

"I know."

»»————-　★　————-««

Tagging: @supercorpdanbeau (since you mentioned you’d like to read it on the original post!)

[heartpascal]

Pls tell me there's a part two for "if the door wasn't shut". I need Joel and Ellie to come back and reader avoiding them and not speaking to them and just walking away when they try to talk to her. Ofc happy ending but make them work for that forgiveness

i would let you in

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: part two of if the door wasnt shut — after being abandoned in jackson, tommy and maria take care of you. joel and ellie’s return hurts far more than their departure.

▹ — a/n: i have no idea how the timeline is gonna work out in the show so ignore that!!! i went off on a bit of a tangent in this one… oops. anyways. let me know if you guys do want a part three!!!

▹ — warnings: angst!!!! AND MORE ANGST!!! oh yeah and a bit of angst too. father figure joel (except he’s failed that role for reader), arguments, throwing of objects, general hopeless feelings, sadness, not proofread, also you WILL like pottery and ceramics sorry!! almost father figure tommy….

▹ — tags: @faceache111 @viknowsbest @inkiqayo @wrcn9fvlcver @pedropascalsrealgf @httpjiikook @issybee0611 @liableperfections @dksjskx @canpillowscry @beeblisss @lizzylynch1 @randomstory56 @hiphopdancer101universe (once again just tagged everyone who asked for pt 2! pls let me know if you want the tag removed<;3)

masterlist | PART THREE

howl’s song associations!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Everything in this world felt empty. It all felt so… weightless. Like you could pick something up, and it would have no meaning. Sometimes, you felt that way, too.

You couldn’t help it.

It was like everything you felt had drained from your very being, leaving your deflated and aching and empty.

But the emptiness sometimes masked as rage, and then you were throwing all of these meaningless things at meaningless walls, sick to death of hearing yourself yell about things that didn’t matter, that held no weight.

It didn’t matter what it was, it just gave you the shortest reprieve of feeling something, of feeling angry. It burned hot in your veins, and for a moment, you were full of fire. Until your oxygen ran out, and the fire spluttered before it died away, leaving you panting and exhausted and empty once more.

You knew it concerned Maria. Knew that she didn’t need this, the stress of having some kid that lacked the ability to even feel remorseful for breaking the plate that she had only just given you. She should’ve been focusing on the impending arrival of her actual kid, not feeling responsible for the one her brother-in-law had practically dumped on her doorstep.

But you didn’t ask for this either, did you?

Even when you had tried to leave, tried to get a horse out of its stall in the stable, tried to follow the only people you believed you could trust, you couldn’t.

You just about remember the way Tommy had pulled you back from where you had been frantic, trying to untie the horse in a frenzy as your chest heaved, the abandonment trying to deep into your bones. You had coughed and gasped, doing everything you could to try and get this feeling out of you, but nothing had worked.

Then, you had woken up on Tommy and Maria’s couch, the two of them beginning to doze off as the night crept up on them. It had been Maria who had jolted awake first, even when you just rustled the blanket they’d placed over you.

You didn’t want her pity then, had outright refused it. The two adults had tried to comfort you, but you had made it so difficult — because why should you make it easy? Your trust had been burnt up, your tether had reached its end, and you felt… hopeless.

There was nobody left for you in this world — and you wouldn’t let Maria or Tommy try to change that, even with their consistent attempts at being there for you.

They had relented to letting you remain in the house across the road, despite wanting you to remain in their home. They brought over meals every day, whether it be from the pub in town, or from their own kitchen.

Luckily for you, they hadn’t mentioned the cuts to your hand, the ones you had gotten from scraping up shards of ceramic off of the floor, after yet another one of your meltdowns. Sometimes, the only way you could actually feel that anger, was to let it out. And considering they hadn’t given you any of your weapons back, throwing plates and bowls and cups against all available surfaces had to suffice.

It had been weeks — you were sure of it. As much as you tried not to take count, the absence of the only people you had left made the days and nights pass slowly, so slowly that it was just a matter of how many days had you been throwing things? Or how many nights had remained restless?

It was on the twenty-sixth day that Maria had enough, seeing the remains of yet another plate in the garbage around the back of your house.

“Okay, if you’re gonna keep breaking these, you’re gonna have to start replacing them.” Maria told you, voice sterner than it had been in a long time. She’d tried the gentle approach, tried being soft, tried letting you heal in your own way, but it didn’t seem to be working. So strict Maria it would have to be. “Come with me.”

You followed her, with some reluctance, but you knew you didn’t have much of a choice. After all, as much as you hated to admit it, you relied on her. Without her, you were screwed.

So, you shrugged on your coat, and followed her as the snow crunched underneath your boots. She took turns so quickly, with so little hesitation, that you were almost surprised. You’d been in Jackson for a few weeks, and this didn’t feel familiar to you.

She tugged open a shop door, coughing away the dust that shot up at her, and felt the wall for a light switch, humming in victory when the store lit up.

You looked around, confused. You didn’t have money to buy new plates… and this place looked empty. You turned to Maria, watching as she wiped the dust off of a circular… machine?

“Well, it’s not the cleanest,” She acknowledged, “But there’s some supplies left out back, and the boys know where to get more clay.”

“Clay? What— Maria, what is this place?” You asked, running your finger against the dusty grooves of a wooden table, feeling bumps of dried something, and leaning forward to inspect the tools that had been abandoned on the table.

“Old ceramics shop,” She told you, opening the door to the back section of the shop and opening a window to let the air breathe. “Hasn’t been a big priority, really. Came in to get some plates when some of the houses had none, but nobody’s been all to bothered ‘bout fixing it up.”

“So, why am I here?” You raised your eyebrows, starting to get annoyed.

“Because, you’re gonna fix it up. If you’re gonna keep breaking all my damn plates, you’re gonna have to replace ‘em.” Maria replied, opening the windows at the front of the shop, and twisting the sign on the door from open, to closed.

“I… I don’t know shit about making plates.” You offered up quietly, fingers picking at your nails as you tried to get out of this. You did feel… almost guilty, about her plates, but at the same time, it was all you could do.

“Well, no better time to learn. Got some books around here, that’ll help, I’m sure. You can figure this out.” Maria said, your name falling softly from her lips, and you missed the other thing she was doing, which would be giving you something to do, giving you a purpose.

You huffed, feeling something nervous brewing in your stomach, but nodded at Maria before she left. You looked around the shop, eyebrows creasing as you realised you had a lot of work to do.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Tommy’s face was a sight, the first time he walked into the old ceramics shop.

When Maria had come to him, nearing tears in her excitement, telling him that you had finally done the ceramics shop some good, he hadn’t known exactly what to expect. He was well aware how much time you spent in that old place, and he had scolded you over it numerous times, saying the dust would do you no favours… or whatever.

The two of them knew that really, the ceramics shop had done you some good, but Tommy didn’t quite realise how much effort you had really put into it. Sure, it had been more than a few weeks now, but you were on your own in fixing it up.

So when you opened the door, something so close to a smile on your face, he was surprised. Shocked, even.

The surfaces were clean, for a start, which was nothing short of a miracle in his eyes. The furniture had been put back into place, not counting the pile of rotted wood that was outside, unsalvageable. Old ceramic work had been cleaned and put on display, alongside two names — the artists who made them, Tommy realised quickly.

And then there were the plates sat on the counter. New, slightly misshapen, and there was a box next to them, already filled with old newspaper.

“To replace the ones I broke.” You told him, when he looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. Tommy couldn’t help the smile that grew on him, something proud in his chest.

He hadn’t known you for nearly as long as Joel had, but god, he could recognise it in you immediately. The resemblance to his niece, just barely peeking out when you didn’t bury that part of you. He could see why Joel had gotten so… attached. Even if you didn’t resemble Sarah within your mannerisms in a way that was uncanny, you were a good kid.

Despite all the plate-throwing, name-calling, yelling and tears he’d seen from you, he knew you were good. He couldn’t blame you for your reactions, not with the way you had been left behind. And Tommy — he could understand why Joel did it, far more than you could, at least, but he recognised the pain in you.

Even if Joel did it as a result of his need to protect you, it didn’t come across like that in your eyes. From your view, he had taken the girl he knew for a couple months, and dumped you with his younger brother. He didn’t want you, didn’t care about you. It hurt. It hurt and it burnt your chest when you thought of it, and the only thing that made you feel a different kind of fire was creating your own destruction.

But this, this was different.

Tommy could see it in your face. This was such a drastic change from the girl who did everything she could to destroy what she got her hands on. This was a girl who finally got to create.

And sure, in a box in the corner of the room, there were the shattered remains of your failed attempts, but it hadn’t felt quite the same.

You thought of it this way; by throwing his and Maria’s dinnerware, you were destroying something that belonged to someone else. It was familiar to you. Trying to create the pain that caved your chest in, within another person. And yes, it was wrong, on so many levels, but you couldn’t help it. You just wanted somebody to understand.

When you had taken that first circular sculpture out of the kiln, and thrown it as hard as you could, it almost… hurt. These things were an extension of you. You had shaped these with your own hands, folded them into what you saw fit, so why should you destroy them? How could you? You made them this way.

So you had hidden the rest of the failed attempts, shoved into a cupboard in the back section of the shop, and had piled up your best attempts for Tommy and Maria to take home.

“You’ve been busy,” Tommy said, his eyebrows raised as he walked his way around the old shop, noticing you had even cleaned the two-decades worth of grime from the windows. “These are good, you been working on anythin’ else?”

“Tried a mug,” You offered, shrugging, “Didn’t really go so well. Neither did the bowl.”

“Work in progress,” Tommy replied, knocking your shoulder with his elbow. “Thanks, kid. You didn’t have to.”

“Actually, Maria’s instructions.” You said, but amusement was taking over your voice as you said the words. It was true — she had told you to replace what you had broken. But you hadn’t expected to enjoy it so much.

Tommy laughed, picking up the pile and placing it in the box you’d prepared, three layers of duct tape going either way across the bottom of it. “Well, it’s appreciated, anyway. You ‘round for dinner tonight?”

You shrugged again, making your way behind the counter to shuffle through some things in the back room absentmindedly, rolling your eyes when Tommy followed. You didn’t mind him or Maria hanging around as much as you used to, but you kept them at a distance.

“Come ‘round.” Tommy said then, instead, no longer posing it as a question. They’d tried to get you to move in, take up the spare room that would eventually go to their unborn child, but you’d strongly disagreed.

“You cooking? Or Maria?” You asked him, eyebrow raised as you turned to look at him, leaning back against the counter.

“Maria,” Tommy answered, rolling his eyes at your snicker of amusement. “She tries not to let me within ten feet of the damn oven.”

You couldn’t blame her. On the days that Tommy had brought food over to that big empty house opposite their own, it had been… an experience. Luckily for the two of you, Maria had agreed to go out on less patrols as the weeks passed by, sharing some of Tommy’s nervousness for what could happen.

“Not surprised.” You commented, a small grin on your face. You looked around the room, picking at your fingernails before you spoke up. “Hey, I was thinkin’—”

“That’s dangerous.”

You ignored him, only responding with yet another eye roll, “Get a bed in here, some drawers… could be a good spot for me.”

“Somethin’ wrong with Rancher Street?” He asked, concerned as he stood up straighter, looking around the room, not quite sure why you’d want to leave the house that provided you with plenty of space, warmth, and running water.

“No— No, there’s nothing wrong with it. Just… pretty big space for just one person, y’know?” You said, and gestured towards the door at the other side of the room, “This place has got a bathroom, anyway, so. And I mean, I always eat at yours or at the hall.”

Tommy frowned, contemplating.

Though they would’ve preferred you to have stayed in their home, Tommy and Maria relented when you had insisted on staying in that house. In the end, they had figured, what’s the harm? After all, once Joel and Ellie returned — which Tommy was sure would come, eventually, — they’d be living in that house, too.

That was the point. The house on Rancher Street was reserved for the three of you. Tommy had hoped, secretly, that you staying there, meant you wanted to fix things up, once the others returned.

You looked to him, when he was quiet for a moment too long, and he cleared his throat. “‘Spose it wouldn’t hurt. Bit of a trek from here, to ours, though.”

“Tommy, when I was…” You trailed, looking away, “I used to walk miles in a day. This short walk won’t hurt me.”

“You got a point,” He acknowledged, tipping his head forward, and ignoring your unfinished sentence. “But man, Maria’s not gonna be happy.” He thought of his wife, waddling her way over when she was near-ready to burst, and shook his head with a grin. “For you, I guess she’ll get on with it.”

“Shut up,” You said, amusement clear in your tone. “Now get outta here. I got some more fixin’ up to do.”

Tommy put his hands up in surrender, before slipping the box of plates into his hands, yelling out a, “See you later!” As he left.

You shook your head, rolling your eyes with a begrudgingly fond expression as you took another look around. There was a table that wouldn’t do you any good, too big, so that’d have to go. You wiped your hands against your tattered trousers, and sighed.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

The lights in Jackson were warm, and filled the streets you walked through as the night slowly took over the day. It was nice, being able to see in front of you as the sky darkened. You tried not to get used to it, but knew you were settling.

It was hard not to — especially after Maria had officially declared that the shop was yours, for whatever you wanted to do with it.

You tried not to think of Boston, usually, but the last time you had had something that was truly yours, was there. It was hard to forget the things you had stashed away, hidden underneath floorboards that were concealed by the only half-decent mattress that Tess and Joel could find.

Thinking of that life was painful, especially when realising that it was unreachable. You hadn’t known it, when you’d left Boston QZ, but you would never get to return to that home that you’d built. To those things you had owned. To the family that had grown its roots in that crappy old apartment.

It was something strange, really. To think that all you had, perhaps all you ever would have, belonged to this town. You were reliant on its walls keeping you safe. At least that much was similar to life in Boston.

People were happier here, though.

You probably couldn’t include yourself in that statement, but for the most part, it was true. The streets remained lit through the dark nights, and you could go out for a walk at any time of the day, with no consequences. Which was a bit of luck, considering that Tommy and Maria always ate late on in the day.

Turning on to their street, you frowned, because the lights in the house opposite Tommy and Maria’s — the one you had yet to move out of — were turned on. And you always turned them off before you left.

You hurried into Tommy and Maria’s, shutting the door tightly behind you and kicking your shoes off in the doorway. “Guys?” You called out, hanging your coat beside the doorway and making your way toward where you heard their responding shouts in the kitchen. “What’s going on?” You asked, upon entering the room.

The glance they shared did not go unnoticed by you.

You raised your eyebrows as they looked to you, seeming almost… nervous. “Did you already tell her?” You asked Tommy, and saw the way Maria’s face immediately flashed with confusion.

“Tell me what?” She asked, turning to Tommy whilst being conscious to continue stirring whatever it was that she was cooking.

“I didn’t—”

“Then who’s in the house?” You interrupted, feeling like your stomach was sinking. You’d thought it would be strange for them to immediately place new people in the house, given that you hadn’t quite packed up the few things you had left there, and the shop wasn’t quite ready. But what other explanation was there?

“Okay, let’s just press pause for a second.” Maria said, shaking her head and looking to her husband. “What haven’t you told me?”

“Well,” He began, scratching the back of his neck, and gesturing towards you, “The shop’s lookin’ real good. And she was hoping she could, y’know, get a bed in there, and stay there.”

“So you haven’t moved new people into the house?” You asked her, feeling your stomach swoop down further as you spoke, and your mouth was going dry. “Then, does that mean—”

Tommy held a placating hand toward you, and it just told you all you needed to know.

“When?” You asked, feeling like your fingertips were burning and your chest was going to explode with how tightly it had constricted. They hesitated, so you repeated, more forcefully, “When?”

“No more than a couple hours ago.” Maria said, putting her spoon down on the counter and stepping forward, frowning when you turned away from her. “The guys on the gate spotted ‘em. Pretty banged up, but they’ll be okay. Sent them in to get some rest.”

“And you didn’t come and tell me?” You demanded, though your voice was weak and you had to hold your hand against your chest to try and steady your breathing.

“Kid, we—”

“Don’t call me that!” You snapped, immediately. Tommy sighed through his nose, nodding his head in something close to defeat. “I don’t want to see either of them. I’m not going in there.”

“You don’t have to do anything right now,” Maria said, frowning at your expression. “You can stay here, tonight, and we can sort the shop out for you tomorrow, but…”

Tommy placed a hand against Maria’s shoulder as she trailed off, “We were thinkin’, maybe you guys could talk it out. It’s been a couple months, now.”

“What’s there to talk about?” You questioned, voice sharp and paining your throat as you spoke. “They left me behind. Think that says everything, doesn’t it?”

It was all over their faces, the fact that they wanted to say more, wanted to say something in some kind of defence of the other Miller man, but they knew you. The married couple were more than aware that anything they said would mean nothing to you. You were like Joel, in that way, Tommy had said before. Stubborn.

They nodded, almost in sync, and Maria turned back to the stove, to continue cooking as she had been before.

“Would you get my stuff for me? When you get the chance?” You asked Tommy, who nodded his head, a frown prominent on his face.

“I’ll go first thing.” He replied, secretly hoping that come morning, you’d magically want to make amends with his brother. He knew it wasn’t likely.

“Thank you.” You said, feeling like heat was crawling up your neck the longer you stood there. The fire in your stomach was fading away, just leaving you feeling uncomfortably warm as you stood in the room. “I’m gonna go get some fresh air.” You nodded to the back door, and headed out once they acknowledged your words.

You stepped out, feeling the muggy air cool your lungs. It was colder than you’d expected, especially considering the way heat seemed to cling to everything in these parts, and you had to grind your teeth to stop the shiver that went down your spine.

It was only when Maria called to tell you dinner was ready that you stepped back inside, rubbing your hands against your arms to try and rid your skin of goosebumps.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Tommy had moved you into the shop the very next day, constructing a makeshift bed frame from whatever wood the town could spare, and bringing a mattress from an out-of-use house. You could tell he had wanted to say something, but he held himself back.

Now, it had been almost two weeks since they had returned to Jackson. And you’d been doing a fantastic job of avoiding any sight of them.

It hadn’t been difficult, in the beginning, with them taking time to rest and recover from their journey — or so Maria had told you. But it got harder as the days went on. They were beginning to explore the town, to join in on jobs, to eat where you would usually eat. It was getting annoying.

For the past few months, you’d found it so hard to live without them, but now, you realised it was much harder to live with them around. Hell, you’d even had to avoid Tommy and Maria’s on occasion, because you’d catch yourself starving before being in a room with the two of them, willingly.

Tommy had mentioned that they’d asked about you, that they’d been wondering where you were, but you didn’t need to say much for him to realise that you didn’t want them privy to any information about you. After all, they’d lost that right when they’d abandoned you here, in a town full of strangers, with no concern of what it might do to you.

You were getting angry, the longer it went on, the suspense of when you’d finally catch glimpse of them was eating you up inside. It was like life before Jackson, that feeling of being constantly on edge, of checking behind your shoulder consistently as time passed by.

It was safe to say that you weren’t happy.

You’d tried to keep yourself busy in the shop, in the little safe space in Jackson that was tucked away, belonging only to you, but things seemed tense outside of Jackson, and with Tommy taking on more patrols, Maria had been left alone an awful lot.

Tommy had asked you not to tell her, and you had absolutely no plans to, but he had asked you to hang around with her a bit more.

Partly for her own good, and mostly for his peace of mind. A little part, which he refused to tell you, was that it was also for your own good. Taking your mind off of Joel and Ellie was the best he could do for you, and this was the only way he knew how.

So, you had spent more time than you could’ve imagined at their house. Ending up falling asleep on their couch more times than you could count, with Maria insisting on waiting for Tommy to get home from his late-night patrols. He often came home to the two of you soundly asleep against the couch cushions, and you often woke up in a different position to what you fell asleep in, a blanket covering you and keeping away the slight chill.

It was one of those mornings, and you were in desperate need for a shower and some fresh clothes. You wrote a note for the two of them, knowing it was far too early for them to be up, given the way the sun was only just rising, to let them know you were going back to the shop.

Your feet were dragging with every step you took, and shuffling your jacket around your shoulders took more effort than you had expected. It was definitely going to be a long day, especially since you had promised Maria that you’d help her cook dinner later, considering she was still very against letting Tommy near the stove.

The morning air woke you up the slightest bit, but the chill of the breeze had you rubbing your hands together, regretting not bringing gloves, though you knew that later on it’d be far too warm for them.

You heard your name, and froze where you stood, hands clutched together, one foot in front of the other.

It was like your heart stopped the second you heard it, like it was being squeezed so tightly it couldn’t beat. The sensation made your chest ache, and you grit your teeth to move past the pain that had become all too familiar.

You heard him stop, his footsteps pausing as he hesitated behind you. You stood still for a moment more, before stepping away as he made a move to continue. He said your name again, trying to call you to a stop once more, but you hurried your pace, checking behind you after you had turned the corner, lucky enough to find nothing there.

A sigh escaped you, relaxing your tense shoulders just a fraction as you made a quick journey back to the shop.

You tried not to notice the anxiety balled in your chest when you finally made it. The way it was twisting up, pulling tighter on your lungs and leaving you feeling breathless as you thought too long on the slightest of interactions.

Despite not seeing his face, hearing Joel’s voice made their presence all too real, and you felt… overwhelmed. Nervous. Scared, maybe.

It was too much.

Why did they have to come back? Especially when you knew they hadn’t come back for you, but for the comforts of Jackson.

This was the only place that resembled the world before, the only place where you could feel something close to safe, and you could be comfortable. This town was a place for family, and it was clear that you didn’t have that, anymore.

Joel and Ellie had returned, but they weren’t your family. They had left you behind, to find your own way, whilst they went on an adventure of their own, creating a network of roots to settle in something close to a family of their own. You wondered if Ellie reminded Joel of his daughter, but tried to put the thought to rest as quickly as it arose.

You stepped into the shower, and tried to let the water wash away all thoughts of Joel and Ellie and family.

Later, when you stood at Maria’s side, stirring a pot on the stove as she took a moment to rest, complaining of the way her child was making her back ache. She told you about how it made her feel incredibly old, but you could see the fact that she appreciated it, as something of a reminder of the fact she was still here.

You had hummed along with her tangent, paying attention to her words but not feeling up to speaking all too much. Of course, Maria had noticed. She certainly prided herself on her observation skills.

“What’s up?” She asked softly, a strange contrast the the harsh voice she had just been speaking with as she had criticised her body for the pain it felt. Her hand was placed against the bump that has grown significantly, and you knew she was feeling maternal once again.

“It’s nothing.” You told her, because it was, wasn’t it? Joel and Ellie didn’t care about you, so why would you care about them?

“Mhm,” She hummed, raising her brows at you, “Sure it is. Got nothing to do with the two living across the street?”

You shook your head, continuing to stir the food, and tried your best to let out the sigh in your chest as a normal breath. It didn’t work, and Maria rolled her eyes at your denial of something that was so obvious. You didn’t say anything else on the matter, and couldn’t help but feel relieved when she finally let it rest. The two of you finished cooking, with you doing most of the work, and her giving all of the instructions.

But hey, you were much better than Tommy was, despite your inexperience.

It was when the door was knocked whilst you and Maria sat in their living room that you felt that tightening of your chest once again. She glanced to you, taking in the way your limbs had immediately tensed, all of your muscles straining like you weren’t sure whether to bolt, or stay completely still.

She raised a hand, telling you to wait where you were, and made her way to the front door after much groaning in her attempts to get up from the sofa cushions. You refrained from telling her that you were surprised she could manage it on her own, considering the size of her baby bump.

“Hey, Maria.” A familiar voice spoke, and your hands clenched into fists against your thighs, “Tommy in?” Joel asked, remaining outside the house.

“No, uh— he’s on a late patrol, today.” Maria responded, her voice much lighter when she spoke to Joel than it had been when the three of you had first arrived to Jackson.

“Ah,” Joel sighed, and you could hear him taking a step back on the porch, disappointment lacing his tone. It was too familiar. “Mind if I pop by, later on?” He asked, far more hopeful than you had ever heard him.

“Uh…” Maria trailed, and you knew she was looking back in the hallway, unsure if you’d be staying overnight. The wooden floorboards of the porch creaked as Joel stepped forward again, and you heard Maria shushing him as you clenched your teeth together. “Not now, Joel. It’s not a good time. I’ll tell Tommy to stop by yours.”

He sighed, and it was like you were back in Boston, with how heavy he sounded.

It was the same way he would sigh when you got too excited over something, like he was disappointed. Back then, you had thought it had been because he couldn’t guarantee anything for you. Now, you had no idea. You had always believed you had known him and Tess almost too well, but over the past few months, you realised just how wrong you were. Back in Boston, if someone had told them what would happen when you arrived in Jackson, you would’ve laughed in their face. Would’ve been so certain that Joel would never leave your side. You had no idea how wrong you were.

You swallowed, your throat feeling tight, and your tongue feeling like it was too big for your mouth as you heard the door shut, and Maria rounded the corner with a tight smile on her face.

With your heart pounding, you looked at her where she stood, and stopped her just before she could sit down, blurting: “Can you cut my hair?”

Her surprise was evident, but Maria nodded her head, and you tried to breathe through the pain in your lungs as you followed her to the kitchen.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was week four, and Joel was getting antsy.

Every time he sat down, he found his fingers tapping an unknown rhythm against his trousers, his legs bouncing up and down as he nervously scanned the room, as though you’d appear from around the corner at any second. Of course, it never happened.

Each time he arrived back to the house on Rancher Street, Ellie’s head perked up, the most hopeful he’d seen her since before winter, and he had to shake his head. Had to watch her expression fall.

When he had seen you leaving Tommy and Maria’s, far too early in the morning for anyone to be awake, something had risen in his chest. He knew it was stupid, that he was a fool for thinking you might speak to him after what he did, but he had hoped so badly that you might just understand.

It was the closest he had been to you in weeks, and he hadn’t even managed to see your face up close, had only just about seen a glimpse of it when you had dragged yourself from Tommy’s porch. The moment he had gotten close enough to reach for you, you had bolted, leaving his hand halfway raised into the air as he stared after you, wondering if he should follow you, or let you go.

When he��d arrived at Tommy and Maria’s one evening, hoping to talk to Tommy about his anxieties, he’d found something else. They were shielding you.

And yes, he had asked them to protect you, had trusted them with something he had never even fully trusted himself with, but god. Joel had never expected that they would protect you from him.

But now, here he was, standing in front of an old shop that had likely seen better days, two decades ago. Ellie was by his side, her hand gripping the sleeve of his coat tightly, before she released it to knock loudly against the shop door.

He had half-expected for you to not answer.

Seeing your face, properly, for the first time in months was not the moment Joel had hoped for it to be. Not when your expression had immediately fallen from something of confusion to anger, to something defensive.

“Hi.” Joel breathed, feeling like he should really kick himself for the pathetic attempt at a greeting. Ellie was close to trembling at his side, trying to stay indifferent, but even from the corner of his eye he could see that hope rising in her expression.

“What do you want?” You snapped at them, wanting nothing more than to close the door in their faces, to slam it shut and lock it, to never open it again. But you refrained, something in your chest balling tighter, but you couldn’t help the desire that arose for something. An explanation, maybe. A good enough reason for you to forgive them, perhaps.

Joel jumped in before Ellie could, saying, “Plates!” He saw Ellie’s head whip towards him, a dumbfounded expression painted across her face. He watched you blink in surprise, and saw your expression go towards indifference as you huffed, and moved away from the door, allowing him to push it open a bit more, pulling Ellie in with him. She closed it behind her.

The silence lingers as you busy yourself with fortifying a box, feeling bitterness creeping up your throat. You thought about why they needed plates, and could not grind your teeth together, somewhat hoping that the scratches and dents in the kitchen counters couldn’t be fixed.

“Listen,” Your head snapped up to him, knowing what came next, and saw the way he backed down, the word kid dying on his lips. He cleared his throat as you went back to taping the cardboard box. “We were hopin’… that, uh, we could all have a talk. Clear things up.”

“I don’t know, Joel,” You began, the bitterness falling off of your tongue with every word, “You guys leaving seemed clear enough to me.”

He hated how much older you sounded.

“We left because we had to, not because we wanted to.” Joel defended, immediately, feeling the hope that had been flickering in his chest for the past four weeks sputter out.

“I remember trying to come with you,” You said offhandedly, keeping your eyes on the cardboard box as you put the final third piece of duct tape across the bottom. “You said: ‘me and Ellie. Not you.’ Remember?”

Ellie’s expression fell further, somehow, and Joel gaped for a moment, flashing back to the way your own face had fallen at his words.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He said your name, almost like a plead, and frowned when you just turned to go towards the back side of the room, beside a closed door. You ignored it, collecting some of the better looking plates that had been stacked up there. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. I know you never asked for any of this.”

“You’re right, I didn’t. I wanted to stay with you. That’s what I wanted. No matter what might’ve happened, I just wanted to be with you two. You took that from me.” You said, voice harsher than Joel had ever heard it, even from when he and Tess had first taken you in. Remembering that version of you was painful, because he saw no resemblance within the you that stood before him.

Ellie spoke up then, her eyebrows furrowed inwards as she became something far too close to angry as she said your name, “You have no idea what we’ve been through—”

“You’re right.” You cut her off, placing the stack of plates in the cardboard box with a loud thud, “I don’t. And who’s fault is that?”

You looked between the two of them, as if you were expecting the answer, but Joel couldn’t bring himself to say it. You were so grown up, and he couldn’t understand it. It had only been a few months.

At their silence, you scoffed, and shoved the box towards them, watching as Joel instinctively shot his hand out to prevent it from falling off of the edge of the counter. He took the box, feeling like it was far too heavy for what it was, but perhaps that was just the conversation.

“I want you guys to go now.” You said, firm, despite the way your voice tried to shake. You wouldn’t let your voice tremor, not in front of them. Not when they didn’t deserve your devastation.

Joel’s face fell, a common theme in each of your recent interactions, and couldn’t help the way he felt sick to his stomach. All those months ago, you had been asking to leave with them, and now here you were, looking at him with eyes that he didn’t recognise, telling him to leave.

“Come on, Ellie.” He said reluctantly, turning away from where you stood, chin held high.

“No!” Ellie replied loudly, her lip trembling as she looked between you and Joel, like she was expecting something to magically repair the rift between you. Unfortunately, this world was real, and it was ugly, and you weren’t sure that fixing things was even possible. “We— We can’t just give up.” She said, pleadingly, looking to Joel to fix things, like she was so used to him doing.

But Joel knew that this was something he couldn’t fix so easily. “We’re not giving up.” He responded then, training his gaze on you, where your eyebrows had furrowed and you had turned your face away from them.

“You should.” You told him, your own trembling lip matching Ellie’s, before you turned away fully, making the short few steps and entering the back room, shutting the door tightly behind you.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“You asshole!” You yelled, the moment you saw Tommy stood in the kitchen doorway of his home, with him having turned to face you at the sound of his front door slamming open. He looked confused, but you didn’t fall for that expression, even as he said your name in an even more confused tone.

You stormed over to him, pushing your hands against his chest and feeling him take a bracing step back, not stopping you. He held his hands up by his side, surrendering once again, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from stinging with tears.

“How could you fucking do that to me?” You asked almost desperately, pushing your palm against his shoulder again, and then you felt Maria step around him, place a hand toward you that you flinched back from.

“Do what?” Tommy questioned, dumbfounded, and holding a hand up toward Maria, who backed off at your blatant dismissal of comfort.

“Tell them about my shop!”

Tommy’s face became one of realisation, and Maria whacked a hand against his chest. He immediately looked guilty a moment after the realisation, and held his hands out towards you.

“I let it slip, I know, but I didn’t realise he’d noticed. I swear, I wouldn’t tell him that purposely. He came ‘round?” Tommy spoke, frowning when you took a step away from his hands as they reached for you. He couldn’t help but feel like Joel had unravelled all the trust he had built with you, and his frustration grew at the second realisation of the evening. You could only nod in response, your expression a mixture of anger and devastation. “I’m sorry, kiddo, I didn’t mean for that. Joel wants to fix things up, yeah, but—”

“Fix things? Tommy, how could he fix things?” You asked, your volume raising immediately as you cut him off. “Joel— He knew everything about me, and he chose to leave. He left me willingly! That isn’t… every time I see myself, I see those parts that he rejected. How do you fix that? Tell me how you fix that, and I’ll fucking do it, Tommy, but I can’t figure it out. How can you fix that? How can you forgive that?”

You were yelling, you knew you were, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Everything you had built in Jackson was shattering like those stupid plates in that stupid kitchen. Tears were falling down your face, and Tommy blurred away as your eyes continued to fill with them. It felt never ending, this whole situation did. How did you fix this? Could you?

“I don’t know.” Tommy admitted, feeling like his heart could tear from his chest as he looked at you, your breaths shaking as you tried to get through sobs, your face covered in tears, chest heaving. “But we’re going to figure this out. We’ve got you.”

He moved towards you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders when he realised you’d let him. He felt your arms tremble as they wrapped around him, and he stared past your head as he took notice of Joel frowning in the still-open doorway. They shared a look, and Tommy gave Joel an all too familiar expression, one that he used to give when Sarah would be upset. Too upset for anybody else but Joel to be present.

It felt strange, to Joel, not only to be on the receiving end of the look, but because it was concerning you. But what was he meant to do? How could he fix it?

Joel frowned, nodding at his younger brother, and closed their front door as he turned away, breathing out a sigh that felt far too heavy. He needed to figure this out.

“Come on,” Tommy said, after a few moments, when he was certain you hadn’t noticed Joel closing the door. He led you over to the sofa where Maria was waiting, and when you collapsed next to her, they held you between them until you fell asleep, face still wet from tears. “It’ll be okay.” He spoke, quietly, despite knowing you were asleep. He was half saying it to himself and Maria, too. They needed the reassurance just as much as you did.

Tommy decided then, that when you woke up in the morning, he would do his best to help you figure everything out. And as he shared a look with Maria, he knew that she’d be there, helping right at his side.

PART THREE

[neuvistar]

TOO TEMPTING FOR ME TO RESIST. (tbh there is no topic or theme for this is just separate thirsts i’ve been thinkin abt for these men lawl)

— featuring ┊ dan heng, jing yuan, blade, luocha x fem!reader (all separate)

— warnings / content warnings ┊ not proofread whoops uh uhuh makeout sessions wink wink, use of she/her pronouns, hair pulling or tugging??? (luocha + blade), praising mayhaps?? (jing yuan), slight degradation (blade), vaginal fingering (danheng), oral sex (blade, fem!receiving) luocha being such a sweetheart (maybe ooc luocha? i don’t rlly know what he’s like so stay w me on this), mentions of breeding, ALSO blade is also called “ren” here cuz i think that’s his real name?? idk! luocha is a tittie lover foreal (tittie men.. ugh), use of nicknames (angel, sweetheart, etc), overall slight suggestive content || 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

— a/n ┊HONKAI STAR RAIL SMUT DEBUT FOREALSSS! except it’s kinda messy cuz this is just a brainrot n also i’m sososorry i’ll get requests done right after this, i’ve been busy so again think of this as a filler, although i did enjoy writing this tbh （＞ε＜ ）

✦ 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆

“cmon pretty, tell me how much you trust me,“ dan heng pulled you closer, his right hand touching her cheek. “you’re giving me complete control over you. you’re letting me do whatever I want with you, whenever I want. how do you know I won't go too far?“ he plunged two fingers inside of her soaking wet cunt, earning a whine from her as she felt him buck his hips against her, fingering her at a slow and steady pace. fuck.. you were beautiful. dan heng wanted to do this with you for so long but yet never had the chance to ask you properly. you were just.. too tempting for him to resist. he wanted you, now. he wanted you to take him and his fingers right then and there on his lap

“hah.. i don’t mind.. just— mm.. faster please, ‘need you so bad, dan heng.”

he smiled nonchalantly, “well... I'm sorry if it gets too intimate. you asked for this, mm?.” dan heng pulled her into a deep kiss, pulling her body closer as his arm embraced her so gently while the other was working on her aching pussy, the lewd sounds of squelching could be heard as his fingers worked wonders on her sweet cunt, struggling to hold back the dirty sounds that threatened to leave her throat. that kiss soon became more passionate as his tongue explored your mouth. the taste of his lips was so addicting to you.. the sweet taste of strawberries filled your mouth. dan heng curled his slender fingers inside her as he began to bounce his leg gently, adding another digit inside. he kept the pace of his fingers up, planting a series of kisses and nibbles along her neck

she couldn’t take it. she really couldn’t. the feeling of his fingers inside of your cunt drove you crazy, you wanted more. you yearned for more. throwing her head back as she felt herself chasing her orgasm. “‘gonna cum, dan heng.. g-gonna cum!”

suddenly, he stopped the movements of his fingers, completely catching her off guard, her pussy clenching around his fingers. he slowly pulled out, cum connecting his digits to her cunt as he looked at her dead in the eye, chuckling to himself. “i love it when you cum on my fingers like that, sweetheart. it just makes me more tempted to ruin you more than i already do.”

✦ 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍

“goodness your body is divine... it’s like you were carved by angels,” his eyes lingered on her chest, giving her a wide grin before planting a small kiss on her neck. “maybe that’s why you’re so tempting, hm? that body of yours.. ‘can’t get enough of it. temptin’ me too much.”

he pinned her down onto the mattress, knee brushing up against her crotch which forced out a whimper out of her as he chuckled lowly. “your body.. It's so damn beautiful,” jing yuan traces circles on your bare shoulder, kissing it every now and then. “your body is like art, angel. i wang to keep looking, touching, and feeling you.. i’m sure you wouldn't mind, would you?”

“you want me sooo bad don’t you, yu?”

he chuckled before his fingers moved up from her neck then to her chin, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip. “mm.. more than anything.“ he smirked pulling her into one of those kisses that she can't help but melt into, as his hand trails down into the curve of her waist, pulling away slightly. “you’re the only one I want, my sweet angel.“ jing yuan pulls her in even closer, the intensity of his kiss rising even more. “I crave you like nothing else. I need to have you, hold you, treasure you.” she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer than he already was, her hot breath landing on his neck as she licked it slowly, hearing a low moan leave his lips “fuck baby.. you’re like a drug to me, you make me weak. that’s why you’re so tempting. ‘s so hard to hold myself back when i see you.. ‘s hard to hold myself back from bending you over my desk to fill you up whole.”

his fingers ran along her thigh, lifting it up slightly as he interlocked his lips with hers, loving the feeling of her lips on his. jing yuan’s breathing becomes even more ragged, his eyes looking into hers with utter passion. “i’ll make sure you never forget tonight, ‘gonna breed you all full.. you want that, don’t you? you want a lil’ me and a lil’ you running around, sweet thing? ‘cause i’m gonna give you exactly what you want.”

✦ 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄

“stay still f’me.” he lifted her knees to her chest as he kept them in place, pushing her panties aside. he gazed up at her one last time, moving closer towards her with a low hum. his lips curved into a smirk, she sucked in a short sharp hiss of breath as he bit down on a spot on her thigh, kissing the other. “‘s mean.. always ‘s mean to me ren..”

“but you like it when i’m mean to you like this, right? don’t you put up at act with me. you know you enjoy it as much as i do.”

“mm.. ah! r—ren!” blade pressed his thumb against her puffy clit, giving your cunt one nice slap as her body shuddered, moaning his name before tightening her grip on his hair, pulling his face closer to her cunt. “‘always so desperate, huh? you want it so bad? fine. if that’s what you really want, i’ll give it to you, sweet thing. don’t start cryin’ that it’s t’much. because you’ll lay there and take it like the slut you are.” she whined and threw her head back as she felt his warm tongue lick her dripping slit. his tongue swirled around her clit, keeping her knees completely still.

god, he was good at this. it’s like he was a natural. licking at all the right places, circling his tongue on her folds, gazing up at her only to see she was already gazing down at him, eating her out like a mad man like there was no tomorrow. he stared at her in awe, the facial expressions she was making, the way she arched her back at how he lapped at her juices, and the way her hand on the back of his head pushed him down further on her cunt, he was absolutely losing it. all of the sudden, the pleasure she was receiving suddenly stopped as blade pulled away from her, licking his lips clean. he stared down in between her legs then right back at her, wrapping an arm around her waist as he crashed his lips against hers, letting her taste herself before pulling away from her lips slowly. “‘want more, ren..”

“then beg for it. ‘m not givin’ you anythin you want unless you beg. beg like a needy slut. maybe then i’ll give you whatever you please, cmon. lemme hear you beg for me, sweet girl.”

✦ 𝐋𝐔𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐀

“want you to do whatever you want t’me, luocha. show me what you can do to me, show me that you’re the only one who can love me like this, who can cherish me like this, show me that nobody is willing to love me like you are, nobody is willing to be as genuine with me as you are.” she ran her fingers through his long hair, massaging his scalp before tugging at it slightly, hearing the blonde’s breath hitch at that before smiling at her lovingly, “you’re really asking me to do absolutely anything i want with you?”

“please.”

“you’re doing things to me y’know that, princess?” luocha’s entire body throbbed with the immense heat present between them. she heard him sigh lowly, his lips now on hers kissing her roughly, his kisses filled with lust and heat ahe hadn’t felt in so long. she inhaled sharply, running her fingers through his soft locks, pulling on it gently once more. she kissed and sucked on his lip, yanking his hair more roughly now. he slipped his hand underneath your shirt, caressing your belly ever so gently with his palm, running his all the way up to cup your breast. a string of saliva followed his lips, pulling away from your lips. “say.. [name]?”

“mhm?”

“you said i can do whatever i want with you, right? that being said, i’m sure you wouldn’t mind if i put a little one in you right here right now, mhm? i’m sure you can handle that can’t you, princess?” her back arched at his words, body jolting at the feeling of his cold hands on her sensitive breasts, rubbing them with the tip of his fingers. “then.. go ahead. i’m not stopping you, luocha.”

“then.. have all of me.”

damn this is messed up n all over the place it’s ok it’s just thirsts guys trust stop i had no theme in mind — Maryse

[vampyrsm]

ꕤ 𝐀𝐥𝐥'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐚𝐫

ꕤ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Ares!Bakugou x Aphrodite!Reader

ꕤ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.8k

ꕤ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Female Reader, MDNI, 18+ content, reader is married, unprotected sex, no prep, reader is cheating on her husband (with Bakugou), implied soulmates, Bakugou is much bigger than you, pet names used (my love, sweetness, etc.), back-to-back orgasms, squirting, creampie, Bakugou is deeply in love (he's a sap), praise, breeding, talks of having a child.

ꕤ 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: So I decided to stray slightly away from the Greek Mythology we know, as in I didn't make them all related lol, that's just very complex and something I didn't want to think too much about. I do keep it somewhat 'canon' to what we know of Ares/Aphrodite's love affair and the outcome of the affair. When the reader refers to Enji as father, they are not related in my story - it's just how the other Gods often talked to Zeus as he was the Allfather. A quick rundown of the people involved: Zeus (Enji), Ares (Bakugou), Aphrodite (You), Hephaestus (Touya), and Hermes (Hawks/Keigo). If you're confused as to what Bakugou is wearing, it's this. Anyway, enjoy! Sorry for any mistakes, I tried to proof read but I'm only human.

Golden chalices filled to the brim with the finest of red wines clinked together, sloshing the crimson liquid onto the hand-carved marble table. It was always a grandiose event whenever the Gods were gathered, everyone in Olympus knew when they were in attendance. Mount Olympus was buzzing with anticipation for days and nights leading up to the event when the Gods would arrive to greet their King.

Though with all the theatrics, it was never a pleasant experience for some Gods. 

One of them was Bakugou, the God of War, who remained poised by the marble columns wrapped in ivy. His own wine had been long forgotten the moment it was given to him, he was never one to drink when such an event happened. He couldn’t trust the King as far as he could throw him – and Bakugou had quite the throwing arm. 

He was unusually angry tonight, his arms crossed tightly over his scarcely clad chest and he wore a deep-set frown as he glowered at the table. It was loud, as expected, with laughter and boisterous shouting whenever someone got a little too excited. But it wasn’t just the noise that was driving the God of War to madness, but rather it was you.

You, sitting at the table with your own chalice that was dainty and filled with a finer wine. You had always had a taste for the finer things, and Bakugou was no stranger to such things. You smiled and spoke when you had to, but everyone at the table knew you were amongst the strongest there – no one dared to make a comment on just what you got up to behind closed doors. 

Everyone knew about your lustrous adventures, perhaps it was just a side effect of being the Goddess of Love and Beauty – forever doomed to yearn and want more. You attracted far too much attention to yourself, yet you always revelled in the way people would worship you and beg. 

It drove Bakugou crazy. You had the ability to wrap people around your little finger with a bat of your eyelashes and a coy smile.

And he was tightly coiled around your finger like a snake, refusing to let go. He couldn’t quite remember just when it had happened, but Bakugou knew that he was very much in love with you and he assumed he may always be in love with you until the end of time itself. 

But the world was cruel, even to the Gods. Bakugou may not remember when he had first laid eyes on you but he does remember the day he laid eyes on you when you were forced into a marriage arranged by the King. Enji had forced you into marrying his son, Touya – the God of Fire. Whilst that was surely a powerful title, Touya was neglectful to you and was often rageful when he discovered just what you had been up to. 

Touya was indeed in attendance tonight, and sat directly next to you with a distasteful look on his face as he glared at the other Gods who surrounded the table. His own chalices were empty consistently, and yet the effects of the rich wine hadn’t quite taken a toll on the God.

As soon as Bakugou had entered and seen Touya, he had wanted to turn around and leave immediately. But it was you who called out for him, much to the annoyance of your husband who grunted at you standing up hastily, leaning against the table and calling his name.

He could never resist the way you said his name, nor could he ignore the way you plead for him. 

So that’s how he had ended up brooding on his own, overseeing the event taking place whilst lamenting on how he could be working on war plans.

“And tell me, are you still meddling with the mortals?” Enji’s voice was naturally louder than the rest, demanding attention and he always got it. Everyone turned to look at Enji before they all settled their eyes on who was on the receiving end of such a question; you.

Not many people recognised anger in someone's eyes; a burning desire to turn to violence but Bakugou did. He lived off of that feeling, that desire to destroy was something that burned deep in his stomach daily. And he could see it in your eyes when you turned your gaze away from the mirror sitting in front of you.

“And do tell me, dear Father, are you still tricking women into giving you illegitimate children?”

There were a couple of gasps and a muffled snort of laughter from someone further down the table which you assume came from Natsuo. Everyone waited to see just how Enji would react, to see if he would bring down the weight of the world on you with just a flick of his wrist or if perhaps you’d be the one to strike first. 

Bakugou felt his muscles tense, shifting into a prime position to protect you, if it came to that. His eyes were locked directly on Enji. He watched as the wave of anger contorted his face, his scar unsightly in the light that filtered through the open windows and made him look more like his exiled brother than anything. 

“Perhaps it’d be wise for us to calm ourselves before another war is afoot,” Hawks spoke from his own seat, eyes shifting uncomfortably between the other Gods before settling finally on you. The God of Speed silently communicates with you to back down from a fight that surely will turn out ugly, Bakugou is of two minds when he practically sees the fire inside of you burn brighter. He wishes to see the wounds you’d inflict on Enji if you were to truly speak your mind, but he fears what is to come of it.

But it seems you have made up your own mind, and you rise from your seat. You level Enji with one long stare before turning away, ignoring the protests of your husband. Bakugou knows he’s not the only one who watches you as you leave, the sheer fabric on your body leaves nothing to the imagination yet you always hold yourself with a sense of dignity. 

The laughter and talking resume shortly after your departure, and no one is aware of when Bakugou slips out of the room in pursuit of you. Except for Touya, whose hand curls into a fist against his lap and pulls the scars taut until they threaten to rip. 

He traverses the long halls as if they were his own; he had spent many years in the place that the King calls his home, often talking of war plans. The red cloak he wears billows in his large strides, and the metal armour on his shoulders and shins clink loudly. He knows exactly where you would’ve wandered to, you always had a habit of returning to the one place where you felt in tune with nature.

Bakugou turns numerous corners until he’s met with the archway that leads out into the hidden garden. One would consider it overgrown with flowers and greenery, ivy clings to the cracked marble arch that Bakugou ducks under to avoid hitting his head. He follows the obscured path just as he had many times before, careful steps to avoid the thorn bushes that lay in wait for their next victim. 

He follows the sound of running water until he comes to a stop. There you are. Sat amongst the bed of flowers beside the running waterfall that falls off the side of Mount Olympus. Your back is to him, yet he knows you well enough to know that you’re very aware someone is watching you. 

Your hands still on the flowers you had been chaining together, though you don’t turn to face him just yet. You remain in place whilst he approaches slowly – like he was approaching a wild animal.

“Have you come to give me a lecture on why I shouldn’t start wars without consulting you first?” You speak finally, and Bakugou recognises the tone in your voice. You’re exhausted. 

“It had crossed my mind.” He says simply, settling down into the spot next to you which earns him a glare when he crushes one of the roses with the heel of his foot as he stretches his legs out. He shifts the iconic helmet that he often wears off to the side, the red feathered strip blowing softly in the wind. 

“Then tell me, my love, why have you followed me? You know that it’ll only anger him further.” One would think you were referring to Enji as him, but Bakugou knows you’re speaking about Touya. 

“I’ll show him the true meaning of anger, he wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you or me.”

You hum in response to his words, not entirely believing him yet he doesn’t feel hurt that you don’t jump to his side in agreement. 

“Answer my question, Katsuki. Why did you follow me out here?” 

“Why did you return to our spot?” He always did this, answered you with a question until you huffed in annoyance and turned to look at him. He knew you could see the way his eyes lit up with your attention finally on him, and he bathes in the way you smile so delicately at him. 

“Because I knew you’d come. You always come.” 

His fingers brush along your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before the same fingers that have murdered thousands of men brush down along your jaw. He takes the time to admire your beauty, much to your delight, he traces the hollow of your throat with his thumb when his hand hooks around the back of your neck.

“I will always find you, my love.” Bakugou breathes the words simply before he’s surging forward to press his lips to your own. The feeling of butterflies exploding in his stomach, an odd feeling when he’s so used to the eternal lust for violence that boils his blood. 

His lips move in time with your own, a dance between the two of you that had been practised for hundreds of years. You lean further into him, your hands brushing against the golden skin of his chest and the strap that holds his armour and clock in place. His own hand curls further against the back of your neck, holding you in place as he has his fill of you. The taste of the wine on your lips is still present, and even more so on your tongue. It has him dizzy with the sweetness of it, the way it blends so perfectly with the natural essence that oozes from you. You always had a talent for stuffing his head with soft cotton and filling every one of his senses with you.

You were like the sweetest fruit he had ever tasted, perhaps it made you sweeter that you were considered forbidden and he couldn’t help but sink his teeth further into you.

You all but moan when he does in fact bite the plumpness of your bottom lip, and it’s enough to surge him on. He’s laying you in the bed of flowers, your hair sprawling out behind you in a way that even the most talented of artists would only be able to capture just a fraction of your beauty. 

His body is huge over your own, caging you in from the outside world and capturing you in the world the two of you had built for each other. You both had always felt so enamoured with one another, true soulmates you had once said. He can’t deny the fact that you were very much correct with that comment, his soul had always been tied to your own from the moment you had first met him. 

Bakugou is the one to break first from the kiss (as always), yet he doesn’t move far. His lips still brush against your own when he pants, leaning onto one forearm beside your head whilst the other freely explores along your throat, down along your collar bones before he lays a hand over your breasts.

The sheer material doesn’t do much to protect you from his feel, his callouses catch on the silky material as he brushes the tip of his finger over your budding nipples. He can feel the way your heart hammers away beneath your skin like a tiny hummingbird, you’re excited he knows but this type of excitement was adrenaline induced. It was intoxicating. 

“You’re as beautiful as ever,” and the way he breathes your name is unlike any of the followers who say your name in prayer, it’s invigorating that you can get a man of destruction and bloodlust to whisper your name in such a tone. “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of your beauty.”

“And I’ll never tire of yours,” your fingers this time brush along his jaw, touching the scars that show just how dedicated he is to his role as the God of War. You follow along his jaw, his cheekbones and the crooked bump of his nose before you trace over his eyebrows with your thumbs. “I could admire you for all of eternity, and never grow bored of your comeliness.”

Bakugou chuckles, quiet yet you feel the rumble of it when your hand presses to the side of his neck. “You speak too much.” 

“Then perhaps you should change that.”

And he just grunts in return, before he’s diving back in to kiss you. This time with renewed vigour, a need to swallow you whole and devour the love you pour for him and only him. His fingers move to trace over your body once again, following invisible lines he had mapped out over the years of exploring your body so freely. It’s like second nature for him to drag his fingers over the fullness of your breasts before they dip down along your waist, your hips and across your stomach.

All the whilst you writhe beneath him, always one to submit to the lust first. Bakugou however wasn’t far behind you, his head span with the heavy scent that filled the air. Sweet like the richest of apples, delicate like the pink and white flowers that bend beneath the weight of your bodies tangling together. Yet there was always a tang underlying beneath the sweetness of it all, one that Bakugou had come to realise years ago was your arousal. So pure and so very intoxicating, it drove him forward once again.

Your legs all but part for him when he pushes forward, your knees bending to press into his sides whilst his hips settle against your own. He’s unsurprised to be met with the warmth, and wetness, that lies between your legs. You had never been one to adorn material that restricted you in ways, and he is thankful to have attended in his full attire for the party. His Pteruges does nothing to stop you from feeling just how hard he was already.

Bakugou continues to dominate the situation, just as he does with any task. Your hands paw uselessly at the metallic belt holding his pteruges in place, whilst your calves brush against the bareness of his thick thighs. He chuckles against your mouth, breathing in for the first time in what feels like an eternity. His eyes crack open just enough to see the look on your face; needy and wanting.

“Anyone could find us here.” Yet Bakugou makes no move to leave, his hips roll against your own to elicit the most beautiful of sounds from your throat.

“That’s never stopped us before, I need you Katsuki–.. Please.” You whine, finally getting your fingers to hook against the metal before it falls loose between the two of you. All he can do is smirk down at you, using his free hand to push the skirt-like attire down his thighs before kicking it off to the side to join his helmet.

Then he sits up on his knees, watching as your eyes immediately drop to stare unashamedly at his length. It droops against his thigh, thick and leaking precum profusely. He makes a show of unbuckling the large leather strap across his chest, shouldering off the heavy shoulder pads before his cloak flutters down with it. 

Bakugou remains on his knees as he watches you draw the sheer material covering your shoulders down until it falls apart around you, falling behind you like a sheet for the both of you to lay on. You’ve always been open to displaying your body before the God of War, dragging your fingers along your own breasts to toy with your nipples before you grow bored and move further down. 

Bakugou can’t draw his eyes away, following the invisible lines you trace down… and down… until they rest between the apex of your thighs. You spread yourself lewdly, uncaring for the squelch that tells him just how aroused you are at this very moment. It has him groaning deep in the back of his throat, his blood boiling just like it did before a fight. You’re another thing he must conquer, put you back in your place beneath him.

“You’ll drive me to madness,” Bakugou whispers, not intending for you to hear but you apparently do. You smile, yet you do not reply, clearly determined now to see just how quickly you can drive the man known for his courage and valour into the depths of chaos. 

Your fingers dance between your legs for a moment, brushing up and down along your soaked lips before they swirl and circle against your clit. The level of just how wet you are helps with the easy glide, easing you further into your delirious state of lust. 

Bakugou feels like he’s bewitched, eyes unable to blink away from the sight of you toying with yourself. It was nothing new, he had in the past made you masturbate in front of him for his own enjoyment. It was something that filled his chest with a sense of power, that you were doing all of this for him — it made him greedy for more.

“But perhaps madness would not be so bad, if you were by my side.” 

“I will forever be by your side, my sweetness.”

Sweetness – a name only you could use on a God like Bakugou Katsuki. Only you could call him something so gentle when he had witnessed enough bloodshed and war to fill four lifetimes. Only you could make the otherwise stoic man smile, and crumble like the weakest defences. His heart thunders in his chest when he dives back down into your space, the warmth of his bare chest against yours is all-consuming. 

He feels himself lose himself to the rhythm of your bodies, his hips rolling against your own once again but this time his cock is free. It catches against your lightly sensitive clit, drawing out a breathy sigh from between your bitten lips.

“Give yourself to me,” you mumble against his lips, your fingers moving from their previous position to thread themselves through his golden wheat-coloured hair, holding softly at the roots to keep his face just in front of yours. “All of you. I want all of you.” 

“Then you shall have me.” 

His lips press into yours as an effort to stop the volume of your voice when he breeches you with the thick head of his cock, whilst he would’ve loved to divulge in foreplay and excite you further he knows it’s too much of a risk to spend that much time alone with you. He already suspects soon someone will come seeking you, and that will only lead to more unfortunate events unfolding.

You don’t protest however to the way he splits you in half, your thighs fall apart further to accommodate him the best you can despite the sharp pain that fills your pelvis. Bakugou openly groans against your panting mouth, a low rumble that sounds like he’s in great pain when he finally bottoms out in you. 

It had been far too long since he had last fucked you. You had been sent away from Mount Olympus more and more often until it was once in a blue moon that he’d lay eyes on you. His soul yearned for you every single day, and the only way he had been coping with that loneliness was to become more ruthless with the men he commanded and the mortals who worshipped him. 

The two of you remain there, encapsulated in the little world the two of you build for each other when you come together. His forearms lay on either side of your head, his thumbs brushing delicately against your temples whilst he admires your features so close. Your own hand plays gently with the hairs at the nape of his neck, whilst the other strokes along the broad expanse of his scar-ridden shoulders.

“I’m in love with you,” it’s you who whispers it, and he wonders if you plucked that thought directly from his brain. It has him smiling once again, a rare occasion to happen so often in quick succession.

Bakugou leans down the short distance, his thumbs brushing into your hairline before he presses his lips to yours in a short yet fulfilling kiss, “I know.”

He so desperately wishes to declare his love for you but it would be no different to declaring war. It hurts his heart to not tell you just how much he loves you, yet he knows you understand this much. You don’t frown or get upset with his choice of words, not when he lays another kiss that lingers against your forehead before his hips roll once again.

It’s a slow pace at the start, sensual and it’s enough to convey his true feelings for you. A man who could crush another man’s skull in his bare hand holds you with such a delicate embrace, his hips don’t hammer into your own with the strength you know he harbours. He always took his time at the start, savouring the tightness of your walls when you clench around him as the tuft of the hair nestled just above his cock brushes against your clit.

He continues with this pace until one of his hands wanders down along your body again, retracing the same path until he finds your thigh. He takes a gentle hold of it, and the largeness of his hand squeezes as much of your thigh as he can before he’s hooking the same thigh over his forearm. 

It’s the only warning you get before he’s leaning back from you, it leaves him open to your eyes as you watch his muscles work with the new pace he sets. It’s more aggressive, more like the God of War that you know. It has your tits bouncing harshly with each rut of his hips, the slapping of skin against skin is loud in the otherwise silent garden.

His golden skin glistens in the sunlight, the sweat that gathers in the hollow of his throat expands all the way down to his adonis’ belt. His biceps bulge and tense when he rolls his head back in ecstasy, exposing the bobbing of his Adam’s apple when he swallows hard before his lips part in the most beautiful of moans. 

It wasn’t often he was so vocal in his pleasure, only reserving that right for you. It doesn’t go unnoticed either, you squeeze around him deliciously to pull another note from his throat that sounds a little more strangled. You giggle beneath him, only to be cut off by a particularly harsh slam of his hips against yours. The tip of his cock bullies its way through your walls, ramming against that one spot that only he seems to be able to reach. 

“You dare laugh at me?” He bares his teeth, quite the vision of the fearless God yet he shows no true malice behind his words. If you were to put a word to it, you’d say he was being playful.

“Never,” you manage to breathe between your moans, eyes fluttering in an attempt to stay open as you watch the man above you work as hard as he can to push you closer and closer to completion. “I-I would…” you trail off, and this time it’s Bakugou who laughs at you but it’s broken into a low groan. 

“Hah, drunk off of my cock already, my love?” He’s always been crude with his words, it makes your stomach do flips along with the added term of endearment. “How long has it been since you were treated like the Goddess you are?”

His words sting, unintentionally digging into wounds that grow old, tearing them apart for his prying eyes. You meet his gaze, eyebrows furrowing to show just how much his words hurt – the truth had always hurt the most.

“Too long,” you moan when he hoists your hips up just a little higher, both of your legs now wrapped around his waist whilst his hands grip harshly at your hips. He fucks into you harder at this angle, impossibly reaching deeper and deeper into you until you swear he’s going to touch your very soul; though perhaps that is his goal.

Bakugou doesn’t offer a reply, but rather a grunt. His thumb rolls down over your stomach before he reaches your clit, and he plays with it cruelly. The pressure is harsh, and he’s unrelenting in the speed at which he toys with you. He only has one thing on his mind right now, and that is to make you cum for him in a way only he can make you cum. 

“Give it to me,” he grits his teeth, jaw working as he tries to fend off the urge to fill you with his cum. “Cum for me.” 

He commands you, and you wordlessly obey. It feels like you’re freefalling from the top of the mountain you’re all perched upon, your head falls back into the plush bed of flowers and your mouth opens up in a scream of pleasure. Your eyes roll back until you see nothing but white, and Bakugou doesn’t let up in the way he’s fucking you.

He fucks you harder in fact, inflicting a tingling-like pain between your thighs. He not only works you through your orgasm but forces you right into a more intense one, it has your legs tensing and shaking. Your hands curl uselessly into the grass beside your head, tugging at your hair when you moan his name loudly. Perhaps he should’ve worried about how loud you were becoming, but a deep part inside of him wanted everyone to know just who you were devoted to. 

His thumb is replaced by two fingers, he swipes aggressively against your clit until you’re struggling to catch your breath. Your chest expands with the effort, whilst your knees try to crush into his sides fruitlessly. Bakugou has never shied away from the fact you were more of a generous lover when it came to orgasms, he beamed with pride whenever you blessed him with one such as this. He’s uncaring for the way your juices squirt against his pelvis and drips down his muscled thighs, if anything it encourages him to fuck more out of you.

“That’s it, such a good girl.” He praises effortlessly, fucking you through the intensity of your orgasm until his hips roll to a gentle stop. His hands that were once in a vice grip on your waist gently massage against your thighs, soothing the tensed muscles until you finally relax as best you can in the position he still holds you in. 

He lowers you carefully down until you’re flat again on the floor, and his hands effortlessly roll you over onto your stomach. Those same hands smooth over the expanse of your back, pressing into your lower back to ease the ache he knows often builds there whenever he bends your body to his will. 

Bakugou carefully raises your hips once again, positioning himself over you and you don’t protest when he pushes himself back inside of you. You rest your head on folded arms, angling your head just so that you can see over your shoulder at the mountain of a man who fucks into you slowly once again. He bends easily at the waist, pressing a delicate kiss to your shoulder.

“I’m not done with you yet,” is all he offers before he’s fucking into you again in earnest. You moan into the crook of your arm, eyes still narrowed in his direction to watch the way his mouth falls open and his eyebrows crumple together. The angle he holds your body in is sinful – your thighs squeeze together to make it impossibly tighter around the thickness of his cock. 

In this position, with your hips raised and head in the flowers, Bakugou can’t help but feel the rush of power that fills his body. To have such a powerful Goddess such as yourself bending under just a flat palm to your spine is driving him to fuck into you hard. Too hard perhaps, as he knows he’ll be leaving bruises on the back of your thighs and ass by the time he’s done. But he can’t help himself, this need to cover you in marks – his marks – was growing to be too much. 

You were his, and only his. He didn’t care what the fuck Enji nor Touya said. You were designed to be with him, you were his opposite, his other half. He’d die before he gave up on you. He’d do anything to ensure you were his, forever.

The idea hits him in the gut like a spear, it makes him grunt deep in his chest and fingers flex against the fat of your hips before he squeezes hard. He knows of one way he could secure you to him for the rest of your lives. 

“I should fuck a child into you.” He groans, the words pour from his mouth untapered whilst his mind runs haywire on the idea of you being round with his child – a child born from two Gods such as yourselves surely would be enough to kick Enji from his throne. “A son. Fit for the throne.” 

You watch him over your shoulder, and he meets your gaze easily. His eyes hold nothing but love and adoration for you, you know a child would definitely bring the two of you together forever. The idea alone has you nearly crushing him between your thighs, enough to cause him to grunt and come to a stop buried to the hilt.

“I take that as a yes, my love?” 

“Yes, Katsuki. Please.” You plead, and the ash-blonde God doesn’t have to be told twice.

He fucks you now with a new purpose, to breed you. His hips slap against the roundness of your ass, his fingers reaching to grasp and grope at you. Bakugou is unashamed in the way he marvels at your body, pulling your cheeks apart with his hands to watch the way your pussy swallows him whole despite the size of him.

His balls ache with the need to cum, he yearns for it every single time he’s with you. Yet he was never granted permission to do so; given you were the Goddess of Reproduction, he knew his seed would take to you – which would’ve caused many problems in the past. But now, he’s uncaring for the problems that may arise. He knows he would wage a thousand-year war for you as long as it meant he got to call you his. 

“Katsuki, cum for me, my love.” You moan, panting hotly into your arm in a futile attempt to muffle your whining. 

Bakugou has always been unable to ignore your pleas.

He cums, and hard. His hips stutter at first, fingers curling harshly against the skin of your ass. His hips rut down into your own, hard enough to make you yelp and bite at your arm. You can feel the way his cock jumps and throbs in the depths of your walls, the white seed he spills is molten hot, just like the fire that courses through his blood. 

Bakugou doesn’t stop the roll of his hips until he’s truly spent, both of his hands come to slam into the ground on either side of your head. His panting breath brushes against the sticky sweat on your bare shoulder before he lays kiss after kiss on you. 

“I love you.” He whispers against your ear, pressing his nose into your hair just enough to smell the delicate soaps you use to bathe in. 

“And I love you, more than anything.” You reply just as easily, turning just enough to let his lips brush against your own. The kiss you have now is just as it was at the start; it’s filled with adoring love and underlying longing.

He slips from you easily, but not without hoisting your hips up once again just enough to ensure none of his cum leaks from you. You laugh, but don’t stop him. 

“You truly wish to have a child with me?” You ask once he lays down in the grass next to you, tugging his red cloak from somewhere to the side over the naked expanse of his lower half. 

“Have I ever lied about something I want? Of course I want this.” 

You hum in response to his words, eyes finally fluttering shut to bask in the warmth of the sun and the tranquil feeling that slowly settles over the two of you. Bakugou continues to lay next to you, an arm behind his head whilst his free hand strokes through your hair to play with the various flowers embedded there.

“Then I hope you’re ready for everything that comes with a child.” You smile when Bakugou laughs, opening an eye to look at how he practically glows in the sun. 

“Woman. I have commanded armies of thousands of men, I have killed Gods with my bare hands. You think a child would bring down the almighty God of War?” 

“Maybe that’s your weakness.” 

“Madness,” he rolls over onto his side, brushing away the hair that’s fallen into your eyes before he kisses your eyebrow gently. “You are my weakness, my love.”

And all the whilst, neither of you is privy to the set of burning blue eyes that watch from the archway of the door. And neither of you are aware that Touya leaves to talk to his father – but not to demand you be humiliated for your adultery but rather for a divorce.

[bunny-yan]

Didn't Tasman always married some other girl in all the previous timelines? I think lover is justified in not trusting him one bit. Imagine if she throws that fact in his face and how all she ever wanted is someone loyal and he's never loyal to her while she always was.

You are just begging to make him angry aren't you? Our hero doesn't like to be questioned. TW: mentions of abuse, depictions of violence, language, mentions death,

—

You stared. You didn’t know what else to do when he presented you with a simple ring etched with declarations of love and devotion. 

His eyes were shining, hopeful as he knelt and presented it to you.

Onlookers whispered, most stopping to witness history being made. The world’s hero was proposing to an average commoner after all. You could see the looks of disgust on the faces of his party members as they watched the tragic display. 

You felt your stomach clench painfully, the butterflies more like cicadas fighting desperately to be freed from such a narrow space. Your hands were clammy as you wrung them together, you felt lightheaded, and it took every fiber of your being to prevent yourself from passing out from pure shock. 

Why would he do something like this after the screaming fit the two of you had the night before? It was hardly a good sign that it was time to spend the rest of your lives together. Especially considering how that fight ended. 

You didn’t want to think about the bruises that were hidden underneath the long-sleeved tunic you were wearing despite the blazing temperatures. If you thought about the terrible words whispered harshly in your ear, the rough hands, you thought you’d puke and ruin this heartfelt display. 

“I know it took longer than we thought, but I wanted to keep my promise.”

An understatement. 

A fucking understatement is what it was. You’d made the promise to grow up and get married to your childhood friend in your first life. To propose talking about an age-old promise, that had been broken as far as you were concerned, felt cruel. 

Shaking your head, you tried to keep your voice soft so you didn’t embarrass him and give all of these people another reason to hate you. 

“Tasman, don’t do this.”

His eyes shined, if he heard what you said, he didn’t acknowledge it as his smile grew before sealing the nail in your coffin. 

“Will you marry me?”

Gasps echoed throughout the crowd, the throng of people desperate to push closer to see who the potential partner their savior was taking, to hear what you would say after being given such an honor. It would be a lie to say that you weren’t hurt by how unimpressed some of them were. You could amount it to jealousy and you were sure that’s what it was, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to blame them when they didn’t know that their hero was a monster disguised as a saint. And how could they? He’d kept it so well hidden, even you didn’t find out until this lifetime. 

It was cruel to abandon you after asking you to wait for him. Marrying another broke your heart, but any hope you had of rekindling anything other than a burning disdain for your childhood friend seemed impossible when your forgiveness was usurped by his selfishness to finally take what he never seemed to want before. 

The longer you stood there, awkwardly staring at him, the louder the whispers grew. 

His bright smile waned and stress began to appear on his features. Why weren’t you accepting? He’d finally done the one thing the two of you wanted. It should’ve made you happy. Why weren’t you happy?

“Lover?” he said, voice strained as he debated to stand or remain kneeling. 

You shook your head again. Overwhelmed by feelings that hit you like a freight train you whipped around before almost running away. The crowd parted to let you through, finally silent as they looked at their savior, struck dumb, still on his knees as he watched you disappear. 

It was the wrong move. 

You should’ve gratefully accepted his offer, hiding the disgusting feelings from sight until you could tell him, behind closed doors, just how you felt about even the thought of marrying him. 

Instead, you ran. It was dumb. It was stupid to believe that you would have time to process your feelings before confronting him and when a hand caught your elbow just as you reached the door to the inn you rarely got a chance to leave, the ominous feeling in your gut solidified as you looked back and stared into unquestionably angry purple eyes. 

You were dragged to your prison faster than you could stumble behind him and you winced when your knee banged on the stairs. He didn’t slow down, refusing to let you go until you were shoved inside the bedroom. 

“Do you insist on making a fool of me?”

“I don’t know what you expected me to say.”

“Was a simple ‘yes’ too much to ask for?”

It was, but you didn’t tell him that. Staring at the floor, you rubbed a hand over your face as you tried to make sense of the turmoil you’d been thrown into. 

“Where is all of this coming from?”

He grit his teeth, closing the door to your bedroom when familiar voices could be heard entering the common area. Didn’t want them to know about the trouble in paradise, even though it was clear not only from the embarrassing display but from the way the two of you would fight incessantly. About anything and everything since you were brought here. 

Taking a deep breath, he walked closer to you before holding your hands in his as he looked deeply into your eyes. 

“I thought my feelings were clear.” When you didn’t speak, he continued. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. We made a promise to be together when we were younger and I want to make good on it.”

Looking into his eyes, you said, “You remembered.”

A lone tree in your hometown held your initials encased in a heart with his. The two of you promised that you would always be together and that when you got older, you’d spend the rest of your days in love and inseparable. 

Narrowing your eyes, you ripped your hands out of his grip. “It’s a little late.” Pacing to the window with Tasman on your heels, you said, “We made that promise ages ago. Lifetimes ago. That tree is dead if it still even exists along with that useless promise.”

“Don’t say that. It’s not too late.”

“It is!” you exclaimed, turning to face him. “I don’t love you Tasman. The days I dreamt of marrying you and spending the rest of our lives together are long gone. They were crushed after you took that vow with someone else.” 

“We talked about this,” he said, exasperated. 

“And yet I’m still angry.”

“Don’t you realize how selfish you’re being?” And here it was. “Holding on to something that happened in the past when I’m trying to make up for it now. I’m trying to make this work. To make us work and you refuse to stop acting like a spoilt child.”

Typical Tasman. Resorting to calling you selfish whenever he couldn’t comfortably paint himself a victim of circumstance. It was old news. It shouldn’t have bothered you as much as it did, but the words buried themselves in your skin, threatening to rip out every violent impulse and dig up each insecurity you tried so hard to manage.

“I’m a spoiled child and yet you can’t seem to stop clinging to me despite how much I make it clear that I want nothing to do with you. Your mistakes were in the past? Well, our love is too.”

He slapped you across the face. Hard enough to knock you from your feet. Your knees banged harshly on the carpeted floors and you held your cheek as you looked up at him. 

He wasn’t above putting his hands on you, but he’d never done it without warning, without physical resistance on your part. 

You stared at him, frozen as he glared down at you. 

“You’re acting ridiculous.” Fingers clenching and unclenching, his intimidating figure towered over you as he went on his tirade. “Have you ever thought about how I must’ve felt? Having to leave you behind? Being used as a disposable tool to fight someone else’s battles? I would’ve given anything to stay by your side, to grow up together and live a normal life, but I had to become the hero. To save the world. To save you. I sacrificed my life, my humanity to give you the chance to live freely and you’re whining about not being with me for a couple of lifetimes? I spent decades trying to forget you. Centuries! Long after you disappeared from this world. Because, unlike your existence, the hero’s fate only ends when the world does. Would you have had me tease myself with a glimpse of what happiness could have been like by coming back? Spending a single century by your side before you grew old and left me with memories of what living was?”

For all the pain in his voice, you could only think about how much your jaw ached. How devastated you felt learning of his multitude of affairs. Sure he could claim that none of them mattered, that he was doing it to forget about you, but where did that leave you? Where did it leave the centuries worth of feelings that continued to go unanswered?

Quietly, so softly that it wouldn’t have been heard by anyone other than him, you said, “It took you eight centuries to change your mind?”

You looked at him and something was off about his gaze. 

Something was wrong. 

What had changed? He’d abandoned you time and time again and only now did he return. He’d spent the last eight lifetimes treating you as a placeholder that he never planned on coming back to. What was so important that forced him to come running back?

Your mouth opened, slack in realization. It made you sick to your stomach to even consider, but you had to know. 

“Why don’t you let me go back to my life without you?”

“What life?” he said, spitting out the words as if they were poison in his mouth. “You were an orphan, wanted by no one. You had no friends,” Because of him. “You couldn’t hold down a job.” Because of him. “You couldn’t even manage to find an apprenticeship. You had no future before you met me.”

“At least let me spend eight of my lives fucking other people and we can call it even.” you snapped. You felt fear coil in your stomach at the rage that poured through his gaze as he descended upon you. Grabbing your shirt by the collar he yanked you to your feet before he got in your face. 

“You’re mine.” he said with a snarl.

There it was. 

The ugly jealousy that reared its head whenever you proposed a life without him. He couldn’t bear to live with the thought of living without you, yet he refused to allow you to live a life where you could potentially forget about him. 

You weren’t allowed to move on and experience life. He’d rather go back on his mind-numbingly nonsensical ideals and trap you by his side, even offering something you would’ve cried tears of joy for had it been one lifetime earlier, rather than let you go. 

You didn’t think your heart could break further, but you couldn’t help it as you thought of how easily all of this could’ve been avoided if you hadn’t waited. If you would have decided to live instead of wasting away again and again. 

Tasman would’ve come running back, both of you surprised and young, eyes unwearied from the knowledge of previous lives, of heartbreak and loneliness.

Of betrayal. 

Maybe the two of you would’ve argued, he would claim you broke your promise by not waiting for him and you would argue that you didn’t have to remain trapped in the same town to wait for him to finish fighting and come back to you. Maybe he would’ve gotten angry and insisted that you stay and when you refused, maybe he would’ve offered to bring you with him. Making new promises of protection, promising to help fight each others’ battles, and keeping old ones of loyalty and love.  

Thinking about it now, the idea felt like a distant fairytale. An unthinkable possibility looking at the man you no longer loved.

“You’re mine,” he repeated, reaching into his pocket. 

You panicked when he pulled out the ring. 

“To let every know, we’ll marry and make it the wedding of the century once I defeat the Demon King.”

You tried to tug your wrist out of his grip, but it was like iron. When the ring got closer, you balled your hand into a fist. You knew there was no real point in fighting him, but you had to do whatever it took to prevent this from happening. 

Irritant and unwilling to play the kind hero who would never hurt a soul, you screamed as your wrist was crushed in his hand. Your fingers splayed on reflex and he smiled when he was finally able to slide the ring on your finger.

“How lovely,” he hummed almost longingly. 

A silent chant set your wrist and he released it to allow you to curl into yourself on the floor. You felt little other than a dull ache, but you couldn’t forget the feeling of your wrist shattering that quickly. 

“Don’t bother trying to take it off. You won’t like what happens if you do.” he said before turning and leaving the room without another word. You could hear the insincere congratulations pour in, muffled from beyond the door. 

[slvttyplum]

could you plsss write a dom suguru smut 😭 maybe sprinkle in some overstim and SOFTTTT aftercare 😭🖤

༄˖°.ೃ࿔*:･Cabin | Suguru Geto

SYNOPSIS: You and Suguru go on a group cabin trip, with a couple of drinks and your love for each other… what happens?

CONTENTS: dom!suguru, established relationship, rough, smut, fluff, soft, fem!reader

i forgot the overstim please don’t hate me 😣

“deodorant?” you ask with your iPad in the palm of your hand, the pencil hovering over.

suguru digs in the side of your shared bag, halfway pulling out a baggy with your deodorants, letting out a drawn-out "uhhh.”

“check.” he says, his deep voice flowing out like honey.

you check off the box on your iPad, zooming in on the next checklist item.  

“charges? including phone, iPad, and computer.” suguru pats himself down, then leans his body over the bag that laid on the bed, snatching up a mini box that held the chargers.

“check.”

you check off the box, then zoom into the last checklist, “spoons?”

he tilts his head, squinting his eyes in confusion. “what?”

you throw the iPad on the bed and walk towards the nightstand on your side, pulling out a ziplock bag filled with spoons.

“it’s for the couple's activity.” you say throwing the spoons on top of the bag, walking back to retrieve your iPad, checking off the spoons, then closing the case cover.

he sighs, putting the spoons inside the bag and zipping them up.

you guys were going on a couples trip for a few days. one of your girlfriends wanted you to come, so you of course agreed with no hesitation.

suguru on the other hand, wasn’t too thrilled; he wasn’t a big fan of hanging out with other couples.

at first, he made it his life mission to be accepted by your friends, hang out with them, and gain their trust, but after months, he gave up.

it’s not that they didn’t like him; it was that he was just... there?

after months of no avail, your friends would invite you and suguru on double dates, triple dates, and, oh god, dates with four couples.

every date ended with him complaining of a headache.

so knowing he wasn’t thrilled about 2-hour dinners with other couples, imagine how shocked and disappointed he was when you told him your friend invited you to a three-day trip in the mountains with four other couples.

“im sorry… fucking what?” he says, putting down his phone and looking at you like he just saw a ghost.

you slide on his lap, wrapping your arms around him.

“it’ll be fun, trust; amber really wanted US to come, please." you say, batting your eyelashes, taking a strand of his hair, and twirling it.

he sighs, dropping his head in defeat. how could he say no?

he thinks you guys are just going to build connections and all that other corny shit couples do in a group together, but really, this was for him.

he always had a hard time getting out there and just letting loose, and you thought this would be just right.

suguru slides the shared bag onto his shoulder, slipping his wallet into his pocket.

“you ready?” he asks, adjusting himself. you could tell he was nervous; he always had a habit of fidgeting before an event.

you nod, walking out, and suguru follows. after everything was placed in the car and the seatbelts were on, you both started the drive-out.

the cabin wasn’t too far, but it was a little bit away. the mountains and the waterfalls were really pretty this time of year.

after an hour or two of driving, suguru pulls into a rocky driveway where two other cars sit. a figure walks out from the porch towards the car as he parks.

amber knocks on the side of your window, and you smile brightly at her, unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out.

suguru gets out, grabs your bags, and walks to the front of the car, leaning on it.

she gently pulls your arm, walking you to the side of the cabin.

“im so glad you could make it; i don’t know what i would’ve done if you couldn’t.” you laugh, reaching your arm out and rubbing hers.

“of course, are we too early? i don’t see anyone  else."amber digs in her pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter and shaking her head.

“mm mm.” she says as she slips a cigarette in her mouth, shaking her head and lighting the cigarette.

she takes a drag, looking around the corner, then back at you. “everyone else lives a bit closer, so i’m sure they’re just waiting a bit.”

you nod, smiling at her, then look at the ground. she watches your demeanor change and taps your arm.

“i gave you the biggest room; why are you frowning?” she says it jokingly.

you laughed lightly, pushing her arm back; you were just scared for suguru. you didn’t want this to be an unbearable experience for him.

while you thought you could’ve been doing him a favor, he’s probably losing his shit.

“don’t be too hard on him," you say, leaning back onto the logs. amber rolls her eyes, taking another drag.

“oh come on, it’s all jokes. tell your boyfriend to stop being sensitive.”

you scrunch your face up in annoyance; he was far from that. he tried; no, actually, he tries.

“y/n it’s getting cold out. come on.” you hear suguru say from the corner. you peek around the corner, then back at amber.

she blows out her smoke, throwing it on the floor and smushing it. “he’s right, go see your room. i’ll wait out here, boo.”

you nod, walking back to the car, suguru leaning with his arms folded over his chest.

“you could’ve just gone inside.”

he leans off the car, holding his hand out for you to take. you walk towards him, clasping your hand in his.

“absolutely not. you go into random people’s houses?” you chuckle while walking with him inside.

the inside was filled with brick and a large couch in the shape of a square, with a small opening where people could walk in and out.

a circular, two-sectioned chandler hanging in the middle, the bright lights shining throughout the cabin.

“this is beautiful," he says as you pull him towards the steps, his eyes still locked on the living room. he’s seen cabins, but none this cozy and pretty before.

you drag him upstairs, his hand locked in yours. the hallway is long, with doors on each side of the hallway.

amber told you where your room would be ahead of time, so there was no trouble finding it.

“here you are.” you opened the room door; your room was the second-to-last door on the right.

walking in, there’s a king-size bed on the right side, a fireplace in front of it, and a big window further out in the room with a couch and a couple of chairs near it.

the room was spacious and beautiful. you let go of his hand, slipping off your shoes.

he sets the bag down beside sitting down on the bed; his eyes span the room, then at you. he pats his leg, gesturing for you to sit.

you smile walking over, sitting on his lap, he stares at you intently. his eyes are scanning your every feature.

his hand falls on your waist, gripping it, while the other rubs your thigh.

“you’re so beautiful," he whispers, the space between the two of you closing. he leans in, pecking your lips.

you kiss him back, wrapping your arm around his shoulder as the other sits on his cheek.

his kiss was soft and attentive, tasting each other. your hand on his cheek travels down to the end of his hoodie, sliding under and feeling his warm abs.

you pull away, giving him that look—the look he knows all too well. your eyes beg him for something more, and he slides his tongue over his bottom lip, revealing his tongue piercing.

“you want to do this now?” he asks, rubbing your waist and looking at you in the eyes, his twinkling.

you smile putting your forehead on his with both your noses touching. “no no, not right now; i want your full attention.”

he nods, smiling back at you. there’s a knock at the door and distant voices in the back.

you get up and walk towards the door. you open it, and there are Kayla and Sean at the door. they peek inside with their mouths dropped open.

"woahhh, look, they got the big room!” kayla says walking in with wandering eyes.

sean peeks inside, and his eyes land on suguru smiling. “sug! what’s up? where’ve you been?” he says, hand gripping the doorway frame.

suguru gets up, walks towards him, and smiles, "yo! right, y/n trying to hide me.” he says jokingly, you roll your eyes, walking towards kayla wrapping your arms around her, with her doing the same.

“oh stop it," you say, pressing your cheek against hers. sean holds out his hand, dapping suguru up.

amber walks in, throwing some clothes on the bed, and quickly walks back out, yelling from down the hallway.

“everyone put on your pjs, i’m ready to eat and get drunk!” everyone looks around slightly confused, but you unwrap your arms and walk towards the bed.

kayla walks out with sean waving her hand, “see you guys downstairs.” you and suguru mumble something back, holding up the pieces.

you hold up some small black shorts, and he holds up some black plain pajama pants. you both look at each other's pieces, and suguru holds his eyebrow up.

“and where the hell are you supposed to be wearing that?” he says, tossing his pants back on the bed and picking up the shirt.

you do the same, picking up the regular black t-shirt off the bed. “right.” you say, immediately slipping off your shirt. suguru looks at you and then does the same.

“wait awe, don’t we look cute?" you’re both in the pjs and suguru is redoing his bun. he looks at you through the full-body mirror in the corner of the room, holding his rubber band in his mouth and both his hands holding his hair.

he takes the rubber band out of his mouth, slicking his hair back. “uh huh, do a little turn for me.”

you turn around, bending down, putting your arm between your legs, and patting your backside.

he ties his hair in a neat bun with a strand of hair hanging out, smirking, “atta girl."

he turns around and walks towards you, smacking your ass. “come on.” he takes your hand, and you both walk downstairs.

there’s a few people in the kitchen, and there’s some people in the square-shaped format in the middle of the living room.

when you guys make your way to the living room, everyone starts cheering playfully, “ahhhh there's the slow pokes.” amber says criss cross apple sauce in between her boyfriend’s ian legs while sipping her wine.

you grin as you walk towards the couch, slipping into the opening and flopping down. suguru ruffles your hair before heading to the kitchen to get himself something to eat.

“i hope everyone brought their spoons like i put in the checklist, cough cough zola."

zola is in the kitchen, pouring different liquors into a big mason jar. she rolls her eyes, yelling back.

“yeah fuck off. i doubt we’re even going to do that fuckass activity.”

amber shifts in her seat, swallowing the last bit of wine and rolling her eyes. “can you just hurry up?"

you lean back, trying to get a view of the kitchen to see what suguru was doing. you hated to admit it, but you did sometimes look after him like he was a child.

you never knew what he was thinking or feeling in moments like this, and you knew being in a new environment could make him feel nervous.

a warm hand gripping your thigh shook you out of your thoughts. you looked down and then at amber.

“you’re getting thick, girl; he must be putting in that work.” you laugh, and you feel someone sitting down next to you.  

suguru holds out a glass of red wine filled to the brim for you, and he has a red solo cup in his.

“who’s putting in work?” suguru says, pulling your leg over his thigh.

kayla pops a cherry in her mouth, looking at the both of you. “you obviously.”

suguru takes a sip out of his cup while his other hand rubs your leg. “what do you mean?"

zola and her boyfriend, ethan, slide through the small opening, putting the big mason jar in the middle and flopping down with their red solo cups.

“you’re fucking her good," ethan says, sliding down between zola’s legs.

you cough up your drink, some going into your nose. while you knew where this was going, the comment still caught you off guard.

suguru pats your back while everyone laughs.

“ain’t nothing wrong with that.” zola says taking another sip of her drink.

the night was filled with laughter, eating, and drinking. it was chill, and this was the most peace you’ve felt in a long time, besides suguru of course.

everyone dialed down, talking among themselves as suguru was leaned into you, his face only inches away from yours.

he brings his voice down to a whisper only you could hear, rubbing your leg still.

“those shorts look good on you, baby.” you smile and whisper back, “those pants look good on you.” he smiles back at you, his hand inching up to your inner thigh.

“let’s go up; it’s late.” you nod, looking at him with low, glossy eyes.

he grabs your hand, guiding you to the steps. “do i need to carry you or are you good?” you grip his hand, shaking your head. “i’m good, i’m good,” you say.

he nods, guiding you up the steps and then down the hallway to your room. you guys get in, and he’s immediately on you.

his lips locked onto yours and his hands roaming your body, he pushes you against the door and locks it as he kisses you on the jaw.

his cheeks are flushed and his head is buzzing from all the drinks he had, but that’s not stopping him.

he’s been looking at you all night, with your ass popping out of those tiny little shorts and your shirt rising every time you moved.

“i want you so fucking bad," he says between kissing you. you moan into his mouth as his tongue tickles the roof of your mouth.

he didn’t know if it was you or the alcohol making his dick twitch, but he just marked it down as both.

he takes a step back away from the kiss, a spit string connecting on both his and your mouth. picking you up and walking toward the bed, your arm was wrapped around his shoulder, and your hips grinded into him.

your breathing got heavier as he set you down on the bed, the bright light shining on your face.

suguru takes a few seconds admiring you before sliding his hands under your shirt, his hands inched closer towards your boobs.

you gulp as you feel his fingertips on your nipples, sending shivers down your spine. he  takes one hand and places it on the mattress, balancing himself as he hovers over you.

his knee pushing into the mattress and sliding up between your legs, you spread your legs wider to fit him.

the heat radiating from your crotch is felt between the fabric of both your shorts and his pants.

he pushes his knee into your core as you grip his arm. pushing into you harder with a specific rhythm.

“grind into me; i want to feel you.” he says this as his finger swipes over your nipple repeatedly.

you look up at him with doe eyes, listening, rocking your hips back and forth, and he moves his knee. your cunt is getting wetter by the second.

he suddenly stops, leaning back up. you lean up after him, and he’s pulling down his pants.

“take off those shorts, now.” his tone was authoritative. you quickly do as you say, sliding your shorts off along with your panties.

he stares at you while you do it, running his thumb over his bottom lip.

“on your knees.” he says, taking a step back and making room for you.

you slowly slide off the bed, getting on your knees and placing your hands in your lap.

he smirks but quickly hides it, stepping closer and grabbing your hair in one swift move.

“oh shit.” you say as his fingers slip in between your hair. 

he takes his other hand, pulling down his briefs, hard on slapping on your face. it startles you, but you keep your composure.

“how bad do you want this dick down your throat?” his voice deep and smooth, his words bouncing off of you.

you take one of your hands, grab it, and then suguru slaps it away, quickly grabbing your wrist with force.

you ball your other hand in a fist, still trying not to show reaction. he takes his other hand, gripping your jaw.

“i asked you a question; that means speak.” he says this, cocking his head to the side. you swallow, nodding.

“i want your dick so far down my throat, suguru.” he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, sliding his thumb over your bottom lip and pushing it into your mouth.

“suck, show me how good you can work this pretty little mouth,” he says, pushing his thumb further down your throat.

you swirled your tongue around his thumb, pursing your lips on it as his dick twitched on your face. that movement along made your pussy hush with excitement.

he suddenly takes his thumb out, sticking his dick inside your mouth with no hesitation. your eyes widen in shock as you grip his thighs for stability.

“there you go, take it," he says, moving his hips back and forth.

he couldn’t wait any longer; the feeling of your tongue swirling on his thumb was enough to send him into overload.

he grips your hair tighter as he pounds into your mouth, biting his lip and looking down at you, trying to suppress his moans.

he places his other hand on your cheek, and he feels his dick sliding in and out of you rapidly.

your eyes start to water as bubbles start to form on the sides of your mouth, and your twirl swirls around his length as it keeps hitting the back of the throat.

alright enough of this, he thinks.

he slips his dick out of your mouth, pulling you up to your feet by your hair.

“bend over," he says. you obey, leaning over the end of the bed, using your elbows for support.

suguru lines himself up, sliding his hand over your core, you shivering from his touch and your wetness coating his fingers.

“you’re so needy for me," he says, sliding himself inside of you with no hesitation.

“oh fuck…” you let out, dropping your head down, his hands still interlocked in between your hair.

he thrusts into you, rubbing your ass with his other hand and giving it a hard smack with his other hand.

your back arches as you feel the heat and stinging radiating off your ass. you bite your lower lip, realizing there’s a whole group of people downstairs that could hear you.

suguru leans down toward your ear, smirking.

“look what the fuck i do to you. you're scared someone’s going to hear you getting your brains fucked out."

he pounds into you again, giving your ass another smack. your words are caught in your throat.

scared a moan is going to escape if you even say a peep.

he smacks your ass again, pulling your hair with force, his jaw clenched, his grip tightening.

“call out for me.” he says it still in your ear, his breath sending goosebumps down your spine.

you shake your head while still biting your lip, you’re sure at the rate you’re going, blood will flow out soon.

he takes removes his hands from your hair, sliding them on your neck, gripping, and your head falling back on his shoulder.

his pace is quickening, and your heart is beating faster. you can hear his breathing, feel his heart beating, smell the alcohol on his breath, and see his signature strand of hair rocking back and forth as he continues to put his all into fucking you.

the bed creaking beneath you as he thrusts and pounds into you.

you can feel yourself lose yourself and clench around him as he keeps going; your breathing is heavy and your eyes are drooping.

his squeezes your neck, whispering in your ear, “are you going to answer the fucking question or do i need to stop?"

"no, no don’t stop.” you thought to yourself

you let out slow, small breaths before trying to speak again. “suguru.” you say in a soft voice as he digs into you deeper. he takes his other hand, placing it under you and pressing down on your stomach.

you let out a sudden scream, rolling your eyes back deep. he kisses the side of your face, pressing again and getting the same response.

“that’s my girl; now just say my name just like that.” he says pressing down again. you clench your draw, wanting to hold your head down, but the grip suguru had on you was tight.

literally and figuratively.

he presses down on your stomach again, and you let out a loud moan.

“suguru!” you shout out. your world went blurry as your head began to spin.

there it was, your heart beating, and the heat radiating from your cunt exploded.

suguru quickly pulled out, spilling all over your ass and flopping beside you; his head was ringing and his heart was beating out his chest, trying to catch his breath.

after minutes of you laying on your stomach collapsed and suguru laying on his back, trying to regain his thoughts, you turned your head towards him.

“that was new… right?” suguru slowly turns his head towards you, grinning.

“definitely new. what did you think?” you smile brightly, sliding towards him, throwing your leg over his and your arm over his stomach.

“i loved it; do you think anyone heard us?” you ask almost in a whisper.

suguru laughs, wrapping his arm around you and kissing your head. "nah, I think they’re fucked out; they’re minds, even i am.”

you laugh, snuggling into his side, his smell bringing you comfort as your eyes slowly shut.

“i love you," he whispers, closing his eyes.

[m-ilkiee]

Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa

Chapter 1: Warning Signals

series summary: your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. and now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.

chapter summary: being friends with Emma Sano is nice, until you get on the wrong side of the Sano brothers.

content warning: DARK CONTENT, NSFW, misogyny, alcohol/drug use, brief mention of violence, religious and purity culture themes, classism, slutshaming, p*rn mention, sexual assault, noncon, public initimacy, fingering (fem recieving), dacryphilia, gaslighting, manipulation, mention of vomitting, victim blaming.

r-18+ (not suitable for 17 and under)

word count: 10.1k words

note: this chapter has been edited and the storyline shifted to the original plan for the series. consequent chapters 2-5 will follow suit and vastly vary from the og series i posted before.

masterlist||chapter2||taglist

KNOWING how big both the TENJIKU and TOMAN fraternities were on campus, it was a bit awkward being friends with the youngest sister of two of the most popular guys in this school.

Any where you two went, she would always be the center of attention. You didn't really mind being in her shadow because as long as you have her, you’ll be fine. People called you a lost puppy, riding on Emma’s cocktails just to get by in university.

They didn’t know how you both have self-care days where you would paint your nails, wear facial masks and watch “Mean Girls” or “Clueless” on her laptop because you weren’t allowed to watch it when you were young. Or how the both of you always have study dates with hot coffee and exchanging annotated notes so that you both remain at the top of your game. They don’t know about the secrets you both share and the trust you both have for each other.

You don’t have to explain anything to anyone.

Emma is a pretty satisfied girl. Her college tuition is paid for in full and her time here has always been smooth. As far as you knew, she grew up being loved by all three of her brothers and they doted on her to the point she thinks they spoiled her.

-You don’t think they spoiled her -okay maybe a little with the way she spends money, but everyone has a vice. Right?

You could tell she knew what familial love is with how sweet and kind she was to you when you opened up about your family troubles.

The only issue is that her two brothers, Mikey and Izana, have been at each other's necks for some years now. Mostly Izana inciting violence at Mikey and Mikey retailiating; it’s the number one concern in the Sano household the way those two fight and argue.

From what Emma told you, Izana’s provocative nature was the gasoline to Mikey’s volatile mental state, akin to fire. Even the littlest of things that no one would bat an eye for could incite a bloody brawl between them. And as they grew older, more people were involved in their petty rivalry, since neither Emma nor Shinichiro agreed to take their side.

Despite the looming hostility, Mikey decided to throw in the towel and agree for a truce. At first, Emma couldn’t believe it. Until two weeks had passed and they hadn’t fought.

"They haven't gotten along at a stretch like this, I tell ya!" Emma had said excitedly while selecting what she would wear that day. You let out a small smile as she tossed multiple clothes on her large bed. Being the youngest had its perks, like how her oldest brother, Shinichiro paid for her to have the biggest room in one of the dorms all to herself.

You heard that on the front, he had one of the biggest Motorcycle brands and behind all of that, his real business was handling the black dragons, one of the biggest gangs in Japan.

You wonder how Emma feels about her brothers' lifestyle, but judging from her huge wardrobe and expensive jewelry, you don't think it bothers her too much.

Not like you cared either. To you, she was just Emma. Nothing more or less.

The blonde haired girl swiftly turns to you with two options in her hand, a pink sequined dress and a white halter crop top and a pink mini skirt with ruffles at the bottom. "I need to look really good today, which one says 'I'm so happy my brothers are not at each other's necks for once?' " She asked animatedly.

You've never seen her this happy since you met her, unless Draken was involved and somehow it made you happier too. It must be nice to be so close to your family members all the time and be able to mend your relationship with them.

You've never had that. You don't think of your family much. You don't wish to either, ever since your father cursed you out for rejecting a marriage proposal from one of his friends to pursue higher education and your mother stayed quiet, complicit -all the while silently seething that all her training went down the drain. The first time you ever went against their old fashioned ideals after years of obedience was met with immediate punishment.

Ironic.

You don’t regret it, though. Because you wouldn’t have met Emma.

"The second one is a better choice." You said with a smile, gazing at her with adoration in your eyes. “The skirt ruffles makes your legs look good. Pair it with the white strap heels and you’re good.”

The blonde broke out into a wider grin, the clothes pooling at her sides as she rested a hand on her hips. “Look at you giving me fashion advice.” She teased lightheartedly. “I feel like a proud mother growing up!”

“I learned from the best.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence and you take that time to admire her. You’ve always thought Emma was gorgeous, from her bright smile, to the twinkling of her eyes when she’s mischievous, to her enthusiasm for life in general. It was a no-brainer that guys would gravitate towards Emma and try their luck into dating her. Eventually the threat of her brothers or the threat of her equally terrifying friends with benefits who just happened to be the vice president of Toman, Ken Ryugi, would be enough to back off.

You wished you were as likeable and as beautiful as she was. You were always too shy to do anything or talk to people, let alone guys that you liked.

“So have you picked your outfit for the party?”

You’re snapped out of the trance-like state to see Emma standing in front of you, her body so close, you could smell her vivienne westwood. “Me?” You asked her, your tone laced with confusion. “I don’t think I’m gonna go.”

“And why is that?”

You paused, trying to organize your thoughts on how to break this to her without ruining her mood tonight. “I don’t think…” you took a deep breath before saying. “Your brothers would want me there.”

There’s a shift in her look, so minor but you could pick out the way her smile faltered. You both knew that her brothers could be… weird around you. It was something Emma couldn’t understand for the life of her.

Izana was usually very displeased with your presence and makes it very well known he doesn't want you there with snide remarks and forgetting your own order. His friends, for the fear of him, wouldn't speak to you either. It took Emma angrily yelling at him for him to be civil towards you. But the second she turned her back, Izana would go back to his usual self, being rude and peppering it with little acts of violence like pushing your hand so that your drink spilled all over the floor and even pushed your laptop bag to the ground, destroying the device you saved money to buy for months.

Mikey was on the other end of the spectrum. He would ignore your very presence and talk to everyone else but you and the rest followed suit. You’ve tried to at least make small talk with him, anything but he would talk over you. You heard from other people that he’s the nice brother and he’s usually so easy going- you’ve seen it with your very eyes the way he interacts with Emma’s other friends, Hinata and Senju.

And it hurts you. You’ve had a crush on him for so long, longer than you even knew Emma, so you don’t understand why he’s acting so differently with you. Seeing him talk with other girls sweetly makes you green with envy, wishing that it was you. Craving for just a piece of his attention.

Maybe he just doesn't like shy girls.

Only some guy named Takemitchi would try and explain that they don't hate you. It was surprising, considering that you knew people like Hakkai - whom you attended the same confirmation class and high school with- and even he made no effort to at least speak with you whenever you came to the frat house or met on the road.

You stopped bothering to make either of the Sano brothers like you, so long as they let Emma keep hanging out with you. It was obvious that they hold some animosity for you when you’ve done nothing to them.

“Nonsense!”

Before you could say anything, Emma pulled you up by your arm and dragged you off the bed towards her closet. “That’s a load of bullshit. There’s no way I’m leaving my best friend to rot in her room when there’s a Sano party going on.”

“But-”

“Nope!” She cut you off stubbornly, before pulling out some clothes from her closet, trying to match them with your skin tone. Satisfied with the outfit she picked, she puts the clothes in your arms and practically shoves you into her bathroom.

“EMMA-”

“Don’t Emma me, (name). You’re going to take a shower and by the time you’re out, I should be back with a makeup kit that suits you.” You tried to speak again but she silenced you by pressing a finger on your lips. “We’re going to be the hottest girls at that party, whether they like it or not.”

“But these look very short-”

“Sorry, can’t hear you, bye!”

You sighed when Emma shut the bathroom door in your face, locking it so that you would do what she said.

There was no winning with Emma when she made her mind up. Might as well follow through with it.

YOU had no idea how big this party would be.

You've come to the Toman frat house before with Emma to see Mikey and Draken once, and admired how large and spacious the three story building was. Now imagine that large of a space being cramped up with nearly the whole school's population.

Somewhat, you’re grateful that the outfit Emma lent you was as short as it was. The house was so hot, you could faint from how stuffy it was.

You hold on tightly onto Emma's hand, intertwined with each other as the both of you push through the big crowd, ignoring the sweaty, drunk students as you headed for the stairs. She, being used to parties like this, was able to navigate through the raging crowd with some form of ease.

After a few more squeezes, you both finally make it to the stairs.

As you both climbed up, you could see different people, all having fun in their own way. You're rarely invited to parties, so this was still more of a nouveau experience for you. A girl is asking for a light, a tiny blunt in between her teeth until another person lights it up for her. You see some guy shotgunning another girl, before melting into a hot kiss, tongue melding with each other. Someone else is drowning shot after shot and a couple is practically dry humping for everyone to see, a poor excuse to dance with the music.

The obscene sight surprisingly doesn’t disgust you, knowing your background, it just makes you curious. How would it feel to try one of those things? Smoking? Drinking? Making out with someone? Emma had told you about her own experiences; as long as you took it easy, it could be fun. Her first time with anything was with Draken and he was always gentle with her, plus her brothers were fine with it, even making sure whatever she took wasn’t laced with anything.

However, you were taught differently. That your body is a temple that you should keep clean for God and doing any of these things will sully you.

You didn’t believe that as much as you did when you were younger, but you didn’t want to test your luck either in case it ended up being true. Besides, you would look like a complete moron if you tried anything with them.

You tried as much as possible not to make it obvious that you're staring, but that failed when you caught the attention of a tall silhouette smoking. Sharp golden eyes stared you down and you instantly looked away, not wanting to get in trouble with some random guy.

You've heard rumors about Toman or Tenjiku guys absolutely beating anyone up for just staring at them wrong. You don't want to be victim number seventy-five this year.

Finally, you both reached your destination; a room on the second floor where Mikey had asked Emma to meet him. The ground floor was always the place where non-members stayed, trashed and partied. The first is accessible to all members of Toman (and now, Tenjiku) to hang out, have a private party and smoke. The second floor is only for executives and their girls or sisters.

You're a bit worried for yourself as Emma spoke to the person guarding the door. Mikey never said YOU could come along with Emma. You're no executive. You're no girlfriend of their executives and you are definitely not related to any of them. You had told Emma to leave you on the ground floor but she insisted that no one would be angry with your presence.

You've suspected that Emma has been trying to hook you up with someone in either of the fraternities. She was always insistent that you at least get to know them.

"(Name) come on."

Without waiting for your protest, Emma yanked you into the rather pristine room that housed the executives. Your eyes drank in the sight briefly, thanking God that it wasn't filthy or smelly as you had imagined it. The execs were all playing a game of poker, with an orange haired girl -Hinata Tachibana, his girlfriend, perched on Takemitchi's lap, laughing at his bad luck.

Emma's eyes quickly scanned around the room for a brief moment until she saw her two brothers sitting side by side, both engrossed in the game. Mikey’s blonde hair is tousled, like he’s been running his hand through it repeatedly. His baggy white shirt is unbuttoned half way and slips down his shoulder, revealing a black tank top and large jean trousers. Izana is different, white hair falling across his handsome face, leather jacket discarded on the back rest of the chair, leaving him in only a tight red shirt and tighter leather jeans, various chains and accessories hanging from his neck. Two earrings dangle from his ears- you can’t remember the name or significance.

‘They’re really good looking. Really-’

Without a warning, she lets go of your poor arm and jumps on top of Mikey and Izana, tackling them into a hug. Cards fly as she squeezes them hard, to which they discard their initial anger of losing their deck and hugging her back.

"Emma, next time give us a warning, will you?" Mikey pouted. You thought it looked cute, but immediately discarded that stupid thought. The guy hates your guts, don’t think he’s hot. "You ruined my game."

"As if you weren't losing dipshit." Izana teased, his face more relaxed than you’re used to seeing. "She did you a favor. You were down to 100 chips."

"You were down to 50. Who's the loser?"

"Still you."

You could see a smile tug at the corner of her lips lift up as she stands up. "Finally glad that two of you aren't strangling each other for once." She said triumphantly, hands on her hips. Her voice has a pep to it. "Last time both of you were in the same room, it didn't end well."

"Doesn't mean I'm not thinking about it." Izana scoffed. Suddenly, his purple eyes left his sister's face and trailed onto you who just stood a few feet away, awkwardly. You watched in real time as his smile fell, his features darkening the moment he locked gazes with you.

Dear God.

"What is SHE doing here?"

His harsh tone made everyone in the room shift their attention towards you. Your blood ran hot with embarrassment, feeling Izana’s purple eyes scan you up and down in disgust while everyone else just looks at you. Mikey’s gaze burned holes into you as well, silently asking you what the fuck you were doing here.

It was obvious. They never wanted you here. This entire thing was a mistake from the beginning.

"I-I'm glad I could walk with you all the way here, Emma" you stuttered, lying through your teeth. You didn't like the way both brothers were staring at you, like they could walk over to you and wring your neck at any moment. "I'll go join the party downstairs now, so I guess I'll see you soon-"

Pulling away from her brothers abruptly, the blonde girl rushed over to you and grabbed your arm, halting your attempt at running away as she dragged you back in place. You cursed underneath your breath at Emma’s desperate attempt to try to get you to stay.

“Hold on, now (name). I’ll talk to them” Emma whispered reassuringly, before turning to her brothers and increasing her voice in full volume. "She's here with me, is there a problem?”

There was a tense silence in the room as everyone stared at you. Mikey's tone was ice cold as he directed his angry gaze at you, dark eyes scanning down your body. You shuddered when his gaze settled on your legs just briefly before snapping back at Emma’s face.

"Emma. When I sent you that text, I specifically said you should come ALONE."

You felt your heart twist in your chest at the emphasis of that word from none other than Mikey. He really hated you.

"Come on Mikey. This is ridiculous." Emma plead your case. You don't realize you're shaking until your friend squeezed your hand gently in an attempt to calm you down and you squeezed back, wanting this to be over as soon as possible. "Why would I leave her downstairs?"

"Because that’s where all the beggars like her stay."

Your eyes widened the second the words left his mouth, Emma following suit at his words. The shock was soon replaced by embarrassment as Izana looked at you with a devious smile on his face, continuing his verbal assault. "What? I was just making an astute observation. You did say she was poor, so am I really wrong?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you Izana-”

“Wait-” Mikey cuts in again, holding a hand to silence her, his eyes fixated onto your outfit, the wheels in his brain turning as he scanned your clothes from head to toe. You suddenly felt naked in the simple white top and jean skirt you wore, as he actually looked at you properly for the first time.

Your shyness is quickly short lived as his facial expression morphed from one of neutrality to nothing but pure rage.

“Is that the jean skirt I bought for you, Emma?”

Your heart dropped at how loud he barked, completely silencing everybody in the room. All eyes fell on you now, putting you at the center stage of attention. Emma quickly pushed you behind her, trying to shield you from their staring the moment she realized what was about to happen.

“Mikey, wait, I was the one who insisted she should wear it, not her.” Emma started to explain, her tone apologetic. “She had nothing to wear and i gave her those since you complained she dressed like a nun-”

“So you decided to dress her up like a cheap hooker instead?” Izana scoffed nonchalantly, his eyes flickering over to your outfit. “You know your clothes looks so cheap and washed out on her. She looks like she stands on the streets and asks for sex in exchange for money.”

"Izana!”

Emma started to reprimand her brother when Mikey cut in again to join Izana in practically insulting you. “Come on Emma, look at your friend. One wrong move and she’ll flash her panties. Don’t you think she’s looking a bit too desperate?”

Your hand flies to the edge of your skirt, dragging it down to try and cover up your legs as the gazes of the men leering at your legs. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Mikey, who is quick to point it out. “See? Even your friend knows she looks like a hooker. She’s trying to pull your skirt down because she knows she’s guilty...”

Each word seemed to stab you in the heart multiple times. You quickly averted your eyes to the ground as he continued to berate you about your looks, tearing down your confidence bit by bit with each word until you're reduced into nothing but nerves and silent tears. Everyone was staring at you now, scrutinizing gazes drinking in the sight of your exposed flesh, snickering quietly.

Unwanted attention.

"Next time, she shouldn't dress like this if she wants to tag along with you…"

“THAT IS ENOUGH."

Emma’s voice rang through the entire room, anger evident in her tone. The two brothers sat there in silence, stunned at the kind of tone Emma had just used on them right now, as if they’ve never heard or seen her this angry in their life before. You could feel her tremble violently, her grip on your hand tightening as fury radiated from her body.

You were sure she’s holding back things to say with how badly she is shaking. Like she doesn’t want to say anything that she might regret saying. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it immediately, as if biting her words back.

"We're leaving."

“EMMA-”

“Oh come ON-”

Emma threw an arm around you and guided you out of the room amidst her brothers yelling at her to come back. Your friend is gentle with you, hiding your teary face from prying eyes as she leads you through the stairs. The loud music was enough to mask your uncontrolled sobbing, but it didn’t stop people with prying eyes from turning their gazes towards you, wondering what the hell happened to you.

You had never felt this embarrassed in your life. As much as Emma tried to comfort you on your way to her room, their words kept on reverberating in your head. You knew how hard it was to get out of that mindset and now, every confidence you worked for, has crashed down like a pile of cards. Even the way they looked at you made you feel so sick to your stomach.

You've been drilled into as a young child that you're dressed the way you're addressed and because of that, you have always made sure you looked modest enough. You were used to your brothers calling innocent girls whores because of what they wore, that they were asking for it.

And now witnessing it first hand just made you feel so dirty. From the way they looked at you, to how they spoke about your body. It made you ill to the core.

You’ve never been so humiliated in your life.

The two of you managed to walk back to Emma's room, since hers was closer. Her phone never stopped buzzing all through your journey, even when you got back to her room. You could see the pain in her eyes as she ignored each call, only worsening your guilt. You wished you had stayed back in the dorms instead of ruining her night; she was supposed to be having fun, not walking you back to your room prematurely because you couldn’t take criticism.

"You should pic-"

"No (name)." Emma was quick to assert as she helped you lay down on her queen sized bed, the soft surface. "You don't need to feel pity for them, you're the one they hurt, not the other way around."

You wanted to protest when she fell on the bed beside you, yanking her covers over you both and encasing you in a hug. "You don't have to worry about them. I just want you to feel better." She whispered in your ears, rubbing your back gently. "You looked good tonight."

You could only nod in response at Emma's affirmation, wanting to so badly believe her. You want to believe what Emma thinks about you but you just can’t when you feel like abject filth. Your lips began to wobble, tears rolling down your cheeks once again as their words rang in your ears.

Months of unpacking that trauma, flushed down the drain by a single action.

Emma didn't say anything in response to your fresh tears, she only hugged you tight and rubbed circles on your back to soothe you until you cried yourself to sleep.

   “YOU implied that she’s a fucking prostitute Mikey, what the hell did I misunderstand?”

You woke up with a start on hearing Emma’s harsh tone echo throughout the room.

You opened your eyes groggily, rolling the covers down a little bit to see what was going on. She was standing at the open door, changed into her pink nightgown, her hair cascading down her shoulder as she argued with someone in the hallways. You push the covers a little further to see who she was talking to, catching a glimpse of a blond haired male standing in the hallways, blocking the only source of light filtering into the room with his body.

“Don’t yell at me, I’m still your older brother.”

‘Mikey?’

You perk up at his voice, instantly awake hearing his irritated tone. What was Mikey even doing in the female dorms by this time of the night? You glance at Emma’s sanrio clock on her nightstand that reads 00:00am. By now, no male student is supposed to be here, but knowing how influential Mikey is, he might have bribed the security to let him in.

His quiet sigh interrupted your thoughts and you turned your attention back to them, wondering what was going on. He started talking again, taking a tone much softer than before. “You’ve changed Emma. You blow me off to spend time with a stranger-”

“She is not a strang-”

“She is to me. You have enough friends Emma, what do you need this one for? What’s so fucking special about her?” His voice grows harsh again as he goes off a tangent about you. “You’re gonna get tired of her Emma. She’s a new thing but sooner or later you’ll get sick of her.”

Your heart broke at Mikey’s words. Is that what he thinks of you? This was supposed to be the easy going guy on campus that helped girls cross the street and everyone liked?

What did you ever do to him?

“Stop it!” Emma hissed underneath her breath, trying to keep her voice down but drive her point across simultaneously. “Stop talking about (name) like she’s a pet or a fucking toy Mikey. I care for her and I won’t stand you talking shit about her.”

“Em for fuck sake, just get dressed and get your ass back to the party.” Your jaw nearly dropped at how he’s quick to switch topics, ignoring what she just said. “Draken’s waiting downstairs and Izana’s gonna be pissed if you don’t come back.”

“You’re gonna ignore everything I just said right now, huh?”

“Em-”

“You and Izana can go fuck yourselves.”

“You can’t be seriou-”

Emma didn’t let him finish when she slammed the door in his face, turning the key as fast as possible. Her body sagged on the door, a quiet ‘god’ escaping her lips. Her silhouette stayed in that position for two full minutes before she walked to the bed again.

In silence, she laid beside you, wrapping an arm around your body and dragging the blankets over you both once again. You felt safe.

   THE next few days after the party were eventful.

Emma had spent them with you, hanging out in the library to study and going to your work place after a hard day at school, just sitting and talking with you when there was no customer around. You ended up in your dorm room or hers afterwards, eating the snacks you both got from shops around the school.

It was nice. Emma was usually busy with other things, so having her with you all the time seems so perfect. You enjoy the quality time you spend with her, really.

But guilt wouldn’t let you do so.

She had isolated herself from her friend group affiliated with either of her brothers, ignoring their pleas to at least talk to either Mikey or Izana. Hina or Senju would try to walk up to her on her way to class and Emma would outright ignore them. In a span of days, you’ve seen countless plushies, perfumes, expensive jewelry thrown into the dustbin, either from Mikey or Izana at the back of her dorm- their apology ripped letters ripped to shreds.

You had taken the time to piece one from Izana together and felt your heart bleed at his begging for them to “please work it out. We may not be siblings by blood but you’ll always be my little sister” and Mikey’s “Em I’m sorry for everything. Please let’s talk, I’ll listen to you.”

Your brothers had never done anything like that before. Usually, they would tell you to suck it up or even laugh at you for being too ‘sensitive’.

Then and there, you decided to talk to either of the Sano brothers in hopes you would mend their relationship. A naïve part of you thinks that this is the right thing for you to do; Emma has done so much for you, it’s time to return the favor.

You hadn’t told Emma what you planned on doing, knowing very well that it would make the poor girl far more furious than she was already. She would tell you that you have nothing to apologize for and get angry with you for suggesting to make peace with them, claiming you did nothing wrong.

The last thing you want is to escalate the issue. You just wanted Emma’s happiness.

You gripped the strap of your tote bag firmly, your eyes fixated on Mikey’s Chevrolet that was outside your department, possibly waiting for Emma to come out so that he would talk to her. Gathering all your courage, you walked towards the car and gently knock on the passenger’s seat tinted window to get his attention.

It wound down immediately, revealing the blonde haired man staring back at you with an annoyed expression.

“Are you trying to break my window?”

His rude tone made you instantly regret even trying to talk to him. Unfortunately for you, the decision was made and you stuck to it. ‘The letters, remember the letters’ You whispered to yourself. “I’m sorry Mikey I didn’t mean-”

“Manjiro.”

You blink twice at his interruption, trying to make sense of what was going on. “Huh?”

“Only my friends call me Mikey and as far I’m concerned, you aren’t one of them.”

There it is. That same attitude of that night. It almost made you angry with the way he was talking to you. You had every right to walk away from him - he was the one consistently harassing you, not the other way around, so who does he think he is?

Instead, you took a deep breath, thinking about just being the bigger person and how you want to make peace with him, so that everything returned to normal. “Okay, I’m sorry about your window Manjiro.” You added politely. “Can we talk?”

He narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously and you expected him to roll up his window and just drive away after that.

“Get in.”

You were shocked, but that quickly wore off when he opened the door for you to enter. You settled in quickly, snapping the seatbelt on after closing the door behind you.

There’s tense silence between the two of you as the car moved towards a more secluded part of the campus. You anxiously looked at your lap while he drove, wondering how you were going to start the conversation with him without instantly setting him off. Your gaze eventually drifted up to his face; from his half-lidded dark eyes to his straight nose, down to his soft pink lips.

You could see the resemblance between him and Emma, from their facial structure to genuinely good skin -not to mention they were both attractive. Despite his height, you knew a large amount of girls that crushed on him religiously, you included. You heard he treated any girl he was with, from his ex-girlfriends to his situationships, down to his one night stands with utmost respect and care. And despite everything he’s said to you, unlike his brother, he never hurt you violently or physically.

You just wished he was just as polite with you as he was with other girls. Maybe you could bring it up in discussions.

The car stops, bringing you back to reality. You realized that he had parked behind an abandoned class far behind the rest of the school. According to the university’s history, this was the first ever lecture hall that was built for the school, and eventually they decided not to renovate it as a remembrance from their little beginnings.

Or they didn’t want to spend any money on it.

Mikey switched the engine off, completely silencing the environment between the two of you. It is then that the realization hits you. You’re all alone with one of the most dangerous guys in this school, in a place where no one could hear you even if you scream. The thought makes you nervous, hoping to high heavens that Manjiro doesn’t want to hurt you.

“Well?” He asked, breaking the ice between the two of you. Mikey leaned back on the driver’s seat, turning to look at you. “You wanted to talk? Start talking.”

‘Okay. I can do this’ You whispered gently, exhaling through your lips. You can do this. “Mike- I-i mean Manjiro, I know it’s awkward, after everything that happened at the party and now it’s all a mess.” You cringed at the way you’re jumbling your words, this was not how it was meant to go. “We still haven’t resolved things yet-”

“We?”

You’re taken aback by his shocked tone as if he didn’t remember what both he and Izana had said to you, but when he doesn’t elaborate further, you take matters into your own hands. “Yes. You both said some unsavory things to me that hurt me that day, and it made Emma mad.” You paced yourself, not wanting to start rambling again. “I also want to apologize for disrupting your party by taking those words to heart and if I have offended you in any way, please forgive me.”

There’s an unreadable expression on his face, as if he’s slowly processing all the words you had just said. You watched his reaction morph from surprise to blankness, nothing on his face, which scared you more than any other expression.

“Get out of my car.”

What?

You quickly turned to the man, trying to understand what you had done wrong. This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go in your head. You expected that Manjiro would be civil enough to at least apologize for his actions too or talk, not this.  “Wait, Manjiro, what did I say wrong-”

“You don’t even realize you’re the problem!” You nearly jump out of your skin at the sudden increase in his pitch as he bares out his frustration with you. “Em can never fucking shut up about how I need to apologize to you whenever I try to talk to her! It’s always about you, you, you! It’s frustrating.” he snapped. “Ever since you came into Em’s life, she just can’t help herself bringing you up. It’s always shit like ‘Oh, (name) is such a nice girl, you should talk to her, she’s a good listener.’ ‘Sorry I can’t come to the outings, I have to study with (name), you know she can’t go alone anywhere’ ‘Oh, this reminds me of (name), she can’t even say the word sex without hiding her face, she’s so innocent.’ She’s so fucking enamoured with you and we’re sick of it.”

You knew the brothers were extremely family motivated, but you had no idea that you were getting in the way of them spending time together. “I didn’t know...” Your voice shakes, tone apologetic as your gaze falls onto your lap. “I…I didn’t know I was causing a rift between you guys, I’m so sorry. I just want to make up for everything and put this behind us.”

A tense silence followed, and you didn't look up from your lap to look at Manjiro, still intimidated at his sudden outburst. You could understand their aversion to you, their family is quite close and their bonds intertwined; so for a stranger to barge in and attempt to tear things apart, even unknowingly can be frightening for them.

Not like you would know what it is like for family to love you.

Eventually, you feel Manjiro turn his gaze towards you, dark eyes scanning your figure until settling on you. You held your breath as he finally cleared his throat, turning his attention to you fully for the first time, ever as he began to speak.

“You want us to make up.”

His tone was plain, as opposed to how angry he sounded a few moments ago. Somehow, you feel weird, slightly more alert than before as he pauses again, goosebumps littering your skin. ‘What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel so scared as he’s staring at me?’ you questioned yourself, before shaking your head, clearing your thoughts. ‘This is Mikey I’m with. Sure, he’s intimidating, but he would never hurt a girl. He’s a good guy.’

You decided to push your odd feelings aside. You were here for peace, not to think ill of him, not especially when you have a soft spot for him in your heart. And you wanted it to happen by any means necessary. Maybe showing him you were not a threat to his place in Emma’s life would make him feel much better around you. “I know that you may not trust me, but maybe if you got to know me better, and I also got to know you and your friends, you’ll see I mean no harm.”

“Is that so? You want us to know each other better?”

It was slight, but you could hear it. The slight mocking tone in his voice and instantly you felt stupid. It was clear he wasn’t taking you or your request seriously as you hoped he would, opting to see right through you instead as he stared at you, his gaze lingering to your hands lying in your lap.

“I-i feel like you’re not taking me seriously-"

“If you wore a longer skirt, then I wouldn’t have gotten so distracted.”

You instantly felt self-conscious when you realized where his gaze truly was from that moment on, and started dragging down your skirt to cover the space between your thighs and socks. The action only seemed to annoy him. “This is my problem with you. If you knew it was short, why did you wear it then?”

“I thought it was cute-” You felt stupider, uttering those words, but before you could say anything else, Mikey cut you off. “I never said it wasn’t cute, (name). It’s a cute skirt. It looks good on you.”

Your heart jumps in excitement at his compliment, your entire body getting warm at his words. “Really?” You uttered shyly, letting your guard down as a small smile crawls up your pretty lips.

“Yeah, real cute. You’d fit as one of the actresses featured in the schoolgirl category on a porn site.”

Your smile dropped instantly as the words left his mouth. “I’m not a slut.” your voice trembled, but just like arguing with your father, it’s no use. He let out a loud scoff, his gaze flickering from your face to your lap, settling between your legs. “But you dress like one. So might as well just perform for me, hmm?”

Your body tenses as you feel a hot palm grab at your exposed thigh, crawling underneath your skirt. You quickly push his hand off your thighs, earning a somewhat shocked reaction from him, as if he’s not used to being rejected. “I’m not…” you start to explain to him, slowly reaching for the door in a bid to escape. “... I don’t do things like that-”

“Does it look like I fucking care?” The blonde man snapped back at you, his surprise giving way to annoyance and he started to grab at your thighs again, only to be brushed off by you, angering him further. “I know you’re not as “innocent” as you claim to be. Stop fucking pretending. I know you want this!”

“I said I don’t do stuff like that! Stop it!” You yelled back at him, frustrated that he can’t just take no for an answer. You try to pry the door open or undo the latch, only to discover that it was stuck and that there was no way out.

‘No, no, no, no…’

Your heart starts hammering loudly in your chest, dread filling your veins when you realized how alone and utterly fucked you are.

You’re beginning to realize that Manjiro driving the both of you to a secluded place in the middle of nowhere was most likely intentional. He must have planned this so that no one would hear you both.

“Manjiro open the door or I’ll- I’ll-” 

“Or you’ll what?” He spat back, dangling the keys before your very eyes before putting it somewhere you couldn’t see. “You wanna open the door so bad? Get the key from me then.”

You’re quick to react, lunging forward in an attempt to snatch the key for him. He easily resisted you grabbing at his body while laughing at your repeated screams to stop. It was like the more you begged and pleaded for him to let you go, the more he liked whatever game he was playing.

“THIS ISN’T FUNN- MANJIRO!”

Your screaming did nothing to deter him from practically jumping on you and pinning your arms against your chest with one firm hand, a leg separating your thighs. You twisted and turned, trying to fight your way out of his tight grip but to no avail. He was heavy and stronger than you had imagined, holding onto you like you weighed nothing at all.

His other hand reached underneath your skirt, skimming through your panties, making you squirm in your position at the feeling. Panic rises against your chest as he pushes the crotch part aside, revealing your pussy. “Wait! Wait, please Manjiro, I’m a virgin-” you try to reason with him as he traces through a streak of your hairy vulva, curling a strand in one finger before moving to your clit.

“You don’t shave?” His tone is so casual, like he isn’t doing something very abhorrent and wrong right now. His question is left hanging in the air as his finger starts to slowly circle around your clit. "Not like I care, it's better this way, anyways."

You’ve never been touched before. You’ve never touched yourself there either. You grew up in a household that taught you that anyone who isn’t your husband touching you is wrong. Your body is a temple to be kept for your husband.

So when Mikey’s slow and sensual movement against your clit begins, your body nearly seizes up with sensitivity. A loud gasp escapes your lips, followed by heavy breathing, your body shuddering with something unfamiliar and electric, sending signals that you didn’t know how to respond.

He strokes you faster, rubbing your sensitive nub in circles that has your eyes glazing over and your hips moving to feel more of his touches, wetting his car seat and your skirt with arousal. Mikey watched with interest the way you closed your eyes tight, your head lolled towards the side as your chest rises and falls, quiet ‘oh’ leaving your lips. He started to take it a step further, leaning over to your neck and trails kisses from your pulse point, to your jawline. He moved up to your ear and his long tongue darted towards the shell, licking it.

“Manjiro-” You gasped at the foreign wetness, with each flick of his tongue, sending pleasurable shivers down your body to your very core. Encouraged by your somewhat positive response, he continues licking your earlobe, his teeth occasionally grazing the shell as his fingers progressively leaves your clit, gathering your slick between his two fingers and tracing the outline of your hole.

“Shit” he groaned, feeling how wet you were. “You’re so wet right now, I could just slide in your pussy with ease.”

You wanted to protest when you felt two thick fingers inch into your unused hole. You wanted to push him off you and run out of the car until you were far away from him. Every part of your mind, your heart, everything in you wants Mikey OFF you as he forces your hole to accept his fingers.

And yet, you couldn’t even scream, you couldn’t claw at his face to scratch his eyes out for doing this to you. No. Instead, you’re arching your back and breathing his name into his ears over and over again, your hands clenched tightly in his grip as his fingers stretched your pussy out. All you do is tear up and let this sick pervert lick the salt rolling down your cheeks off, before going back to kissing the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“You’re so pretty when you cry f’me. Come on, keep making those noises.” 

He curled up his fingers, experimentally looking for that spot as the burn graduated to a pleasurable stretch, repeated moans leaving your lips. He fingered you, progressively increasing his speed and pleasure overriding your senses as he circled his thumb over your poor nub, simultaneously with him curling up your g-spot.

Your body responded to his touches, lips kissing up and down your neck, licking your pulse point before sinking his teeth and mouth on it, making you gasp loudly.

Everything was too much. Your pussy tightened around his fingers, thighs trembling as he brought you closer to the edge. His lips left your neck and kissed up to your jaw, then the corner of your lips, pumping into you faster until you started to spasm.

“M-manjiro I-i feel, I feel- hngh-”

You arched your back uncomfortably with a strangled cry, soaking his fingers as your vision went blinding white. Your body trembled as he fucks and kisses you through your orgasm, shaking in his grasp until you fall limp on the chair, well spent.

You’re catching your breath as his fingers slid out of your pussy, a string of your cum connecting them. Manjiro looked at his soaked fingers with interest, before popping them in his mouth and humming to himself in approval. The sight feels so wrong to look at and you can’t find the strength to look away as he licked his fingers clean of your musky taste.

You don’t say anything when he let go of your wrists and adjusted your panties so that it covered your pussy. The blonde haired man climbed back to his seat, starting up the engine of his car again.

He doesn’t say anything when you start sobbing.

   “I GOT you food.”

You didn’t respond to Manjiro, hanging your face as tears rolled down your face. It’s the position you had assumed since he climbed off your body, something he couldn’t get you out. He thought that maybe if he got you some food, maybe you’ll ease up and eat.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Kissing his teeth, he entered back into the driver's seat before closing the door behind him, tossing the food at the back seat. You could tell from the way he was muttering underneath his breath that he was growing more annoyed with you. “Honestly, I don’t know why the hell you’re crying. You’re still a virgin. I didn’t force myself on you.”

You didn’t know what else to expect from him. That he would even offer you a shred of apology for what he did? The way his words are so callous, lacking any form of tact in the way he’s brushing off what he just did tore you apart.

Emma had painted this man as someone who would hang the moon and stars for her. Someone she knew she could call if anything was going to happen to her, who would fight through hell and back for her safety. She had told you of how he beat up anyone that touched her wrongly and how he would try to make her forget anything unpleasant. To Emma, Mikey was her knight in shining armor, her hero.

This was a man you had loved with all your heart. Manjiro was your first ever crush, and the more good you heard about him, not just from Emma, but from other girls too, the deeper you fell for him. You had admired him from afar, your heart set onto him as you hoped to be at least close to him. Despite everything, he was the sun in which everyone revolved around, the heart throb of your dreams.

But when you turn to look at him through your teary gaze, watching him rev up his car engine with a nonchalant expression on his face, all you see is a vile soul.

You felt sick.

“I’m going to tell Emma.”

Your voice was quiet, hoarse from all the sobbing but the anger was evident. There was no way you were going to let him get away scott free. You knew that the police would be as good as useless because you’ll have no evidence by the time you manage to file a complaint. The school authorities won’t help you either as Shinichiro Sano was one of their biggest benefactors and everyone in the faculty loved Manjiro despite his tendency to be disrespectful.

But if you told Emma, you know she’ll believe you. Even if the entire world was against you and for him, you would still be able to get her to take your side and stand with you.

You’re sure name dropping his little sister would make him scared at the very least. Mikey loved her to death, she had this perfect image of her sweet older brother that he has to uphold at the very least.

Without skipping a beat, he dropped his own phone straight onto your lap before continuing to focus on the road. Eyes wide, you turned your head to Mikey to see any form of reaction, even him flinching slightly.

Nothing.

Your mouth hung open at how he just blankly stared at the road ahead of him, his grip on the steering wheel normal as he drove you back to campus. As if he’s innocent, like he didn’t force his fingers into your panties and violate you.

His nonchalance irritates you; it’s as if he doesn’t care what you say or do to him.

“What?” you questioned him, wondering where the hell he dropped his humanity? Any other person would have reacted; begging you, threatening you or even giving a flimsy apology. “-why did you drop this on my lap?”

“You wanna call her? Go ahead.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Not like you told me no when I was fingering you.”

“That’s not how it works!”

“Then how does it work?” He cuts you short, taking a right turn to park outside of your faculty building. He puts the car in park before turning to face you. “You walk up to my car to ask me if we could talk, wearing that kind of skirt that gave me access to you. When I told you to get out, you didn‘t leave. You never told me to stop and you didn’t struggle. You know what you did instead?”

“Sto-”

“Ah ah- Manjiro” he mocked you in a high pitched voice, making you cover your ears in humiliation, not wanting to hear anything from him. You wanted to throw up, ruin his car. You want the ground to swallow you whole, anything that would take him far away from you. “Ah, mmh Manjiro, mmh mhhh ah ah- you moan like a pornstar by the way. You seem like you enjoyed being treated like that.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but all you felt was bile rise up to your throat. A part of you nagged that he had a point; you never said anything that sounded like ‘stop’ or ‘no’ and how you positively responded to his touches. ‘You even orgasmed.’ A gnarly disgusting voice bubbles up in your head, in defense of Mikey. ‘It was obvious you enjoyed it. Every second of it.’

You tried to deny it. Try to block out that voice as you attempt to remember everything you were told about assault. You’re fighting a war in your head, against the intrusive voices as you picked up the phone to tell Emma. ‘She’ll believe me. She’ll believe me-’

“Face it. You’re just overreacting because you liked what we did.”

Those words were the final nail to the coffin. The phone lies in your limp hand, finger just above Emma’s line to call her. Everything that led up to this point involved your choices. To stay in his car. Not fighting harder. Never screaming no.

You let him dirty your temple.

Mikey spared you one more look, dark eyes scanning every inch of your crumpled form. He slides the device out of your hand, placing it back in the middle of his car before grasping your hand in his.

“Alright, stop crying.” he soothed in faux sympathy, thumb tracing over the back of your palm. “I’ll take you shopping and buy you new clothes, hmm? And I’ll buy you anything else you want. Okay?”

You should known better to believe him. After everything he has done to you, from consistently insulting you, to assaulting you and then making you feel guilty for giving him the opportunity to do so.

And yet, you’re nodding along, agreeing with him and letting his warmth engulf you. “Okay.” You said in a small voice, your free hand grasping the hem of your skirt tightly.

“Look at me.”

You felt another hand grasp your chin, forcing you to look at his face, dark eyes peering at your face. “I don’t like that look on your face.” You wince as his fingers tightened around your jaw, your heart hammering against your chest when he commanded you once again. “Smile.”

You don’t know what else to do. With Mikey, it’s like going to a war knowing fully well you would lose.

And so you do as you’re told. Your lips lifted at the corners forcefully and you gave your best smile. He returned it with a smile of his own, genuine to the point his eyes dilated.

“Good girl. You look so much better.”

Your mouth went dry at his statement when he withdrew from your body and unlocked the door for you. Deciding not to ponder on it, you reach for the handle to leave. You had a class in an hour’s time and you were supposed to meet up with Emma beforehand to return her laptop that you borrowed for her project.

“Wait.”

You paused in your tracks, your hand hovering above the door handle. What else does he want from you?

“Your makeup is ruined. Fix it. You don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea that I hurt you when we were just playing with each other.”

Bile rose into your mouth once again at his words, but you hold yourself from doing anything that would set him off. You only nodded in response before opening the door and exiting the car. Tears threatened to escape your eyes as you hurried off to class, your throat burning with anger as you gripped both your tote bag and the food he had gotten for you, hard. Your body shook with each step feeling the intensity of his dark eyes burning into you.

You never touched the food, throwing it in the trash bin due to your appetite eluding you, replaced with a sinking feeling of pain and humiliation into your stomach. You don’t make it to the rest of your classes either, opting to lock yourself in a toilet, a loud cry ripping from your throat into your palms as your heart breaks into tiny pieces.

How could this have happened?

Bonus Scene:

MIKEY never tore his gaze from you as you disappeared into the building. Dark eyes watched as your ass bounced in that jean skirt you had worn today, nearly reviving the boner he had prior. He had to admit, notwithstanding his absolute disgust for you, you were a sight for sore eyes - pretty, naive, inexperienced and tight. So goddamn tight.

He’s never been with an inexperienced girl before. Not even when he lost his virginity in high school. It didn’t hurt that you also had the sexiest thighs he’s ever seen either, soft and doughy underneath his touch.

You weren’t as stupid as he thought -far from it. Mikey knew your strategy; picking your battles carefully. You’re rightfully afraid of both him and Izana. You were even more afraid of losing face with Emma, the only friend you managed to make here, which is why you came to him because you felt guilty for making her mad at them.

If played right, they could have you underneath their thumb like they do with the rest of Emma’s other friends. All this was to keep an eye on their little sister in the long run, to restore the natural order and balance that was their system. Family came first, then the gang, then their friends and finally, if they cared enough, their lovers. It’s a cycle that Mikey is used to, being the center of attention in Emma’s life and sharing that space with Izana. Even Draken knew that there are times he shouldn’t intrude when the two brothers are with her.

But you had no regard for the order of things. You just tried to insert yourself into his and Izana’s circles, as if you were somebody of any importance and not just another, a little gnat.

To Mikey, you deserved to be crushed like the annoying gnat you are. Seeing you cry and tremble underneath his touch, hearing you moan and beg him like a slut made him feel good.

Mikey looked at the building again before looking at his watch. He had to attend his criminology lecture by 3pm since he had a presentation today and it was already 1:30pm, having taken out time to talk to you. The frat member he gave his presentation to edit must be waiting for him at the coffee shop.

“I might not be able to meet up with ‘Zana.” He muttered, picking up his phone to dial him up instead. Finally, after the fifth ring, his line went through, his rough voice echoing through the phone.

“Mikey? What is it?”

Mikey could hear a bit of shuffling from the other end of the phone, and a quiet “Izana” spilling from a rather feminine voice, only for Izana to bark at the girl to shut up, effectively silencing her.

“Did I catch you at the wrong time?”

“No.” He grumbled. “Do you have any updates on Emma?”

“In a way, yes. I do.”

“In a way?”

“I have a feeling you’re not going to like my plan, regardless.”

Izana sighed from the other side of the line, probably sick and tired of the constant mind games Emma was playing with them and to be fair, even he was sick of it as well. Their little sister was easy to annoy but easier to please; so for her not to be as forgiving this time was frustrating. Mikey had played every game in the book he knew to please Emma and even Izana had put in far more effort than he cared to, but nothing worked.

Unless…

“It involves her, doesn’t it?”

Mikey could hear the irritation in his brother's voice, but then again, if they wanted peace to reign and for Shinichiro not to get directly involved in this issue in your favour, they were going to have to play it the smarter way.

“Not like we have a choice. Emma’s attached to that girl by the hip. You’ll just have to trust me on this one.”

Also, it doesn't hurt to have a little fun on the side.

author's notes: reblogs, comments and asks are highly appreciated. my taglist for all my fics are wide open, so do ensure to sign up. please be very patient with me as for updates, school has started and i may not be able to be consistent, but i will try my very best to finish this story this year.

I do not consent to my works being promoted, published or translated on any site or social media without my permission.

taglist (please turn on your mentions in 'settings' before filling the form.): @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @merrymerrykiss @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @ryuguji-sana @nuyoo @getonite @anxious-chick @reiners-milkbiddies @kiwixpi @gh0stgirl333 @brisssaaa009 @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @damidamimongalam @raven-nevra

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℬℯ𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓎𝒶𝓁

request: THIS IS A WILLIAM REQ I HAVE i saw the movie and fell in love w him (ive been for like years but Matthew made me even more in love🥹) i was wondering if you could do a william x reader where the reader is in her like 20s and shes Mikes childhood friend, but she of betrays him cause she is with William. she had a pretty rough childhood n stuff so she has heavy attatchment issues (and she would like do ANYTHING for Will) @elluvzjamie

Warnings: Readers just as messed up, they’re like insane, cute insane couple stuff ig..?

“You’re dating… my job counselor?” He asked you one day.

“Who’s your job counselor?”

“Steve. Raglan..?”

“Oh…. I didn’t know he was your job counselor.”

“I didn’t know he was your boyfriend.” He was shocked, the age difference was odd to him.

“Yeah. He is. We’ve been together for like a few months.”

“He put a picture of you on his desk and I asked him about it.”

You smiled at that “He did?”

“If your happy.” He shrugged, leaving it at that. He didn’t mind, you were his friend, you’d stayed with him through everything. Even through the awkward middle school years.

The conversation didn’t come up much, because he respected you, of course. He still found it odd. But he kept it to himself.

You found out about his secret early on, he was scared he would have to kill you after you did but you didn’t mind it. And that made him fall impossibly harder for you.

———

“Will-“

“Relax. It’s the perfect plan. Besides, when have I ever been wrong?” He grabbed your jaw, making you look up at him.

“But.. he’s been my friend since like… forever.” You were hesitant.

“Do you love me?”

“Of course I do, will-“

“Do you trust me?”

“..Yes.”

“Then please, just go through with it. I promise, when we’re done we can go on that vacation you always talk about.”

You smiled slightly at the mention.

“Okay.” You said softly and quietly, looking up at him with eyes full of love and naiveness. He smiled down at you, leaning down and kissing your lips.

—————-

“M..ike..? What happened?” You mumbled, he was breathing heavily as he grabbed you, helping you up.

“They attacked you. Come on, Abby’s in danger.”

He was running quickly, he pulled out a taser on chica, shooting her with it. You stood beside Mike as Abby and him talked.

You all ran across the halls, Mike limped and was suddenly attacked by Carl.

“Abby, go!” You shouted, trying to go “help” Mike. You pulled Carl off, throwing the cupcake across the floor.

“Fuck, Mike. Are you okay?” You asked, as you got on your knees beside the man.

“I’m fine.” He panted out, holding his leg in pain.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine. We- we gotta go help Abby.” He said. You helped him up and he slung his arm around your shoulder as he limped around.

You both looked around to find her, instead, a giant golden bunny walked towards you both. You cracked a small smile, standing there as he stumbled back.

William growled, and Mike tried to tase him, but it was no use.

Mike looked at you as you stood back and watched as the bunny threw him across the floor.

“You couldn’t just leave it alone, could you?” Mike crawled across the floor. You followed Williams steps. “Lucky me. First I killed your brother, then I got your friend to betray you, now I kill you.”

Betray him? He looked at you, who was standing next to the bunny, unharmed.

“Symmetry, my friend.”

“Go to hell.” His eyes were full of hurt.

William laughed, kicking him, and knocking him unconscious.

“Wake up children. I have something for you to play with. This is gonna be so much fun.” He stood in front of Mike. “Little ones tell me you have a sister.” He pulled out a knife. “She will love it here. You, however, are finished. Farewell, Micheal Schmidt.”

“That’s enough!” Vanessa said.

Vanessa. She was interesting. She didn’t like you, that much was for sure. She thought you were far too young for him, but you don’t care.

“Drop the knife.”

“A little old for temper tantrums aren’t we, Vanessa?” William said.

“I’m not kidding, dad.”

he took off his mask, looking at her with disappointment.

“You may have forgotten your loyalties, but I assure you they have not!” He pointed the knife at the animatronics.

Abby ran towards Mike, you glanced back at them. Abby looked up at you.

“Y/n. Why-“ she started, but not finishing her sentence. You looked down at them in slight pity.

“You did great. Now, let us just finish this.” He looked down at you now, the smallest amount of praise making you beam.

“Now, put that thing away. And help us clean up the mess that you created!”

He said, talking about her gun. He walked towards her slowly, and you stayed behind.

“Come on. We both know you’re not gonna use…” she shot him, he groaned and was taken aback. The animatronics looked at her in anger. You looked in shock, but you knew he would handle it.

William yelled, and threw her gun onto the floor.

“You had one job. One. Keep him in the dark, and kill him if he got too close.”

“That’s two jobs.”

He choked her, pinning her against a machine. You looked back at Abby, and quickly put a knife to her throat.

“Y/n!” She yelled, she stood still, scared for her life. Her drawing fell onto the floor.

“Abby, Abby, Abby. I tried to leave you alone. I really didn’t want to do this.” You sighed, shaking your head to yourself.

“Y/n, you don’t have to-whatever he’s telling you-“ she tried desperately, sobbing and clawing at your arm.

“I love him. And I’ll do anything for him. Even if that includes betraying you and your brother.”

William smiled at the sight, how cute, he thought. His daughter was now unconscious on the floor. But that didn’t matter when he could start a new life with you, who would do anything for him.

[cordeliawhohung]

Headache

mafia!Gaz x fem!Reader | no major warnings: minor descriptions of wounds and blood, both you and gaz have a lot of sass |

mafia!141 consider this a part 2 to Siren

maybe one day you'll learn how to keep your mouth shut

Things were never quite silent in Kyle’s apartment, but they weren’t exactly loud, either. Well, apartment was a bit of a misleading term considering he had an entire penthouse in one of the most expensive buildings in the city all to himself. Still, it didn’t change the fact that he always kept quiet music playing through the speakers in the living room or turned on a white noise machine in order to sleep. Kyle had never had a quiet life as a kid, and finding himself as an adult surrounded by nothing but silence was more than enough to drive him mad. 

However, the only thing more irritating than silence was the grating sound of someone trying to buzz up into his apartment. It was as if they took the world’s most annoying sound and turned it into a doorbell, and it was so blaring he could hear it all the way from the bathroom in which he attempted to shower. He had just finished his workout and he wanted to wash the sweat and stink off of himself, but it didn’t seem like he would get the opportunity. Whoever it was trying to get in was certainly adamant, because the buzzer sounded at least four different times before he was able to reach the door. 

“Hello?” Kyle greeted as he jammed his finger against the intercom button. If this was Soap, he was going to be pissed. 

“Mr. Garrick.” 

It was your voice, he was sure of it. Even through the crackling speaker of the intercom and your heavy panting it was easy to make out that confident snark that exuded from every word you spoke. The way you soaked his name in it had him huffing in annoyance already. 

“How did you find me?” he questioned as he rubbed his face with his free hand. 

“Let me in and I’ll tell you,” you teased.

“Not happening,” he retorted. 

Your groan came through all too clearly on the intercom and Kyle had an easy time imagining the way you most likely rolled your eyes. So far, his only interaction with you had been that night a few weeks ago when he failed to get that USB off of that politician in the strip club. After all that blew over, he had a hard time getting you out of his mind. You knew about his mother, and more importantly that he was her bastard child, and that knowledge seemed to haunt his thoughts night and day. You appearing on his doorstep didn’t help to quell his worries, either. 

“Come on, Garrick,” you urged. “I just need a place to crash for the night, I’ll be out of your hair by morning. You wouldn’t leave a girl out on the streets all by herself, would you?” 

“Do you not have your own friends you could bother with this?” Kyle asked. 

“Awe, are we not friends?” you patronized. “Besides, none of them live in what I can only assume is Fort fucking Knox with this security system.” Your voice paused, and something in your tone changed when you next spoke. “I’ll be gone by morning. Promise.” 

And he wanted to say no. To turn you away and leave you to your own devices. You were plenty capable of taking care of yourself, you had proved as much all those nights ago when you stole the data from under his nose. But there was something pleading in your tone, almost tired, even. He wanted to say no, but he couldn’t. Kyle wasn’t known for having a cold heart. 

Without so much as a single word, Kyle pressed the button that would unlock the lobby door for you and wandered off into the living room to sit and wait for you. Surely it was a mistake to let you in. Riley didn’t seem to trust you nearly as far as he could throw you, and while the man didn’t trust many people, there was something different with the way he acted about you. It was like you were some feral creature, or a ticking time bomb. Perhaps you were something to be handled with care. Or just to be kept very far away from. 

A few minutes later a knock sounded at his door, announcing your arrival, and Kyle couldn’t help but groan as he pushed himself up from the couch. His sweat from his workout had caused an odd, damp feeling to coat his body, one that he wasn’t all too fond of. Still, he did his best to ignore it as he opened the door to greet you. 

It was strange seeing you without the makeup, wig, and skimpy outfit, as it was the only outfit he had seen you wear before. The woman who stood in front of him was completely unrecognizable, and you nearly looked… shattered. Your clothes were bulky and much too big for your body, and there was an obvious and odd tatter that tore the bottom of your jeans. A fair layer of sweat coated your forehead, and it looked as if you had escaped a prison rather than gone for a nice night stroll. 

“The hell happened to you?” Kyle asked as he took a step back to give you space to enter. 

“You don’t talk to women very often, do you?” you retorted, half annoyed. 

“Most women I talk to don’t look like they were just dragged through the bin.” 

The door closed shut behind you with a click and Kyle was quick to engage the lock while you strolled into his apartment. Quiet music continued to hum through the surround sound speakers, and your eyes seemed transfixed on the dim lighting and his impeccable interior decorating. A small black backpack rested on your shoulders, and you adjusted the straps as you took your time meandering throughout his living room. Despite your apparent desperate need for a place to stay, you didn’t seem all too intent on divulging why you showed up at his door of all places. 

“Seriously,” Kyle continued, “what happened?” 

As if annoyed with his question, you turned to face him fully while you gave him a careful look up and down. It had been a long while since Kyle had last felt like a specimen, as if someone tore apart every single piece of his appearance with just their look alone, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it coming from you or not. Luckily, you decided to be kinder than he had been and you kept quiet about his disheveled appearance. 

“Had a little run in with Makarov’s men. Nothing I couldn’t handle, but I just need a place to lay low for a bit. Persistent bastards,” you explained simply.

Makarov. Kyle tried not to concern himself too much with the inner workings of the mafia world. The only reason he was involved with that mess in the first place was because John Price wasn’t a bad friend to have, and his mothers job and status made it easy to bend the rules a little in which he would receive good payment in return. But Makarov was a name that even he grew to fear. A ruthless man, his schemes often seemed to be more terroristic in nature rather than selfish like most other syndicates. 

The fact that you took on his men alone and came out unscathed was a miracle. 

“Oh,” Kyle said as if the answer was obvious. “So you just brought them straight to my front door then?” 

“Don’t be rude,” you said with a glare. “I’m not stupid enough to have someone follow me. I know when I’m being tailed. Trust me, you and your penthouse Fort Knox are fine.” 

Frustrated, Kyle ran a hand over his hair before he gave you the most unamused expression he could muster which only had you rolling your eyes, an action you seemed to do quite often. It was as if his confusion and concern was below you, like you expected him to just blindly go along with whatever you said. 

“Anyway,” you continued as you turned your attention to his apartment once more, “can I borrow your shower? You know, since it looks like I’ve been dragged through the bin and all.” 

As much as Kyle wanted to say no because he had planned on showering, he didn’t want to be a bad host. And really, you looked like you needed it more anyway, especially after running into Makarov. So he showed you to his stupidly large bathroom, complete with a garden tub and tiled shower. The vanity was large enough that three people could fit comfortably side by side, and the mirror casted a beautiful glow along the marble flooring with its backlit LED lights. 

“Fancy,” you commented as Kyle handed you a fresh towel. 

“Do you need a fresh change of clothes?” he asked while he ignored the way you gawked at the room. 

Smirking, you looked at him with a raised brow as you tugged on the straps of your backpack. “Cute, but I’ve got it covered.” 

“Alright, just… don’t take all the hot water. I’ve gotta shower, too,” he said as he stepped out of the room. 

“Yeah, I can tell.” 

Once the door closed behind him, everything started to hurt, and you could no longer keep up that snarky facade. Your backpack slipped off your shoulders and landed on the floor with a dull thud, and you wasted no more time stripping your bulky sweater off. Blood soaked through the side of your shirt, causing the tattered mess to cling to your skin with its coagulated stickiness, and you were unable to hold back your grimace. The large rip in the side clearly showed the gash that plagued your waist, and while the blood flow had managed to slow, a steady trickle still continued to seep into your shirt. 

You could already hear Shepherd’s voice calling you a failure. Not only did you fail to steal the laptop he ordered you to grab, you had gotten yourself injured in the process like an amateur. There wasn’t any room for failure in his business. Least of all from his daughter. You wouldn’t be able to show your face for a while, not without punishment. 

Everything you did to clean yourself up was meticulous. You couldn’t afford to seek proper care, and you certainly didn’t want Kyle Garrick of all people figuring out what exactly you had gotten yourself into. So your bloodied shirt was shoved into your bag as you pulled out your first aid kit. Cleaning the wound was near agonizing, and having to twist your body to the side just to reach it didn’t really help, but you wouldn’t be able to superglue it with scabs crusting over your skin. Any materials that you used to patch yourself up were also thrown back into your bag for disposal at a later time. 

Leave no trace. 

Never let them see you bleed. 

That night you slept out on Kyle’s couch, much to his protesting. Despite the fact that you were probably the least pleasant person he had to deal with, second only to his mother, he still insisted on being kind and trying to take care of you and offered you his room instead. While the notion was noble, it honestly made you a little sick, so you burrowed into the couch with a borrowed pillow and blanket and slept the best you had for a long while. 

When morning came, a hand on your shoulder shook you awake and your arm reached out with a jolt. As your body and mind began to wake up, you quickly realized it was Kyle who attempted to wake you, and your hand gripped the collar of his shirt like you were ready to fight. He looked down at you with a raised brow as he slowly removed his hand from your shoulder. 

“Gonna kill the man who made you breakfast?” he asked in an attempt to tease you. 

Sighing, you relinquished your grip on his shirt and rubbed at your face. “Depends on if it’s a good breakfast or not.” 

Once you had the chance to wake up a little more, you followed Kyle into the kitchen where you were painfully reminded of everything that had happened to you the previous night. Your wound had the time to grow sore, and even the simple act of standing or sitting was near agonizing, yet you kept quiet as you sat down on the opposite side of the island from him. Everything about his apartment was impressive, from the full unit kitchen with a gas stove, to the floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the city. Even you had to admit you were a little jealous. 

Kyle had cooked up a few light and fluffy pancakes, complete with fresh cut fruit and other sides for you to add to your heart's content. Really, it was quite good, and you were able to momentarily forget about your unfortunate predicament. Though, the fact that you were in Kyle Garrick’s apartment was still something on your mind, and his too apparently, as he hadn’t let your omission from last night go fully unpunished. 

“So, you never did explain how you found me.” 

There it was. You knew this conversation was going to happen sooner or later. Your vast knowledge often unsettled and even intimidated people, and it seemed like Kyle was no exception. Of course you could have done the smart thing and stayed quiet. Opening that can of worms would only get him to ask more questions, ones he wouldn’t like the answers to, and yet you owed him at least a bit of an explanation. 

“Your mother’s financial assets go to different places every month, but there are a few that are always split the same way. First goes to the mortgage on her rather extravagant mansion in some bullshit gated community. Next is a direct route to a bank account, which I can only assume is yours. Ten thousand a month is a rather generous allowance, honestly. Especially since none of it has to go towards rent or bills, because the other place her monthly payments goes towards is the rent on this penthouse.” You paused to shove a rather large bite of food into your mouth before you looked up at him with a smile. “And before you ask, I found this out due to a data breach in her bank. Stuff happens all the time, really. Can’t trust anything electronic these days.” 

Kyle wasn’t sure if he should laugh or yell at you. Not only had you gotten every single detail right, but you were much too smug about it. While your banter always seemed lighthearted and friendly, there was something more insidious about it; or maybe he just felt threatened by you. Difficult to tell, but he knew being wary of Shepherd’s daughter wasn’t a bad idea. 

“Alright, that still doesn’t explain how you knew who my mother is,” he said, the irritation already beginning to show in his voice. “You mentioned it the first time we met like you were holding it over my head. Care to explain that?” 

Humming, you swallowed the food in your mouth before you leaned against the counter. “Not sure if you want me to explain that one.” 

“Cut the bullshit,” Kyle snapped. “Does it make you feel strong? Holding personal information above people’s heads like this?”

“No,” you corrected with a slight bite in your tone, “it makes me feel safe.” 

With a short pause, you set your fork down on your plate before you crossed your arms in your seat and stared up at Kyle. Without a chair for him to sit in on the other side of the island, he stood much taller than you, almost intimidatingly so, yet you didn’t falter. 

“I’m very confident in my ability to kick someone’s ass, but the real weapon lies in knowing shit. It gives you the upper hand, keeps you from getting hurt,” you explained. 

“Could’ve fooled me,” he retorted. “You flaunt it around like some all knowing being and then laugh in my face when I try to ask questions.” 

“Oh, is it knowledge that you want?” you challenged. “Because I could tell you anything you wanna know. Like how your friend Soap would have certainly gotten himself killed if he didn’t join up with Price because the people he worked for previously never intended to let him get any information and live because they don’t like loose ends. I also happen to know that the girl Riley keeps hanging around is a hot fucking mess, and he’s gonna find himself in a world of hurt if he keeps trying to pursue her. It’s always the quiet ones who have the most baggage, after all. Or that Mrs. Price’s dad wasn’t killed in a fucking accident like the papers would have you believe.” 

Eventually the adrenaline in your body built up too much for you to stay sitting. There was just something so infuriating about Kyle Garrick. Maybe it was the way he looked at you while you spoke, jaw tense and eyes refusing to tear from you. Maybe it was just that despite how terrible of a person you were being, he still showed you more kindness than you deserved. 

“Your dad is sick. Very sick, and has been for a long while,” you continued. 

“Don’t you fucking talk about him,” Kyle snapped as he took a step closer to you, and yet you ignored him. 

“Despite his illness, he works as a janitor five days a week for one of the elementary schools here in the city, but can only afford to go part time, so he doesn’t have a lot of disposable income. You love him. With your rent paid for, and more money than you know what to do with, you give a lot of your income to him instead so he doesn’t lose his home. You visit with him every Sunday for dinner, probably to also watch football. He’s the only reason you even work for Price. You’ll take any extra income you can get if it means expediting his treatment and keeping him comfortable and alive because he’s the only person in your life who ever actually gave a damn about you.” 

The silence that followed was the most uncomfortable one that you ever had to endure. You had read Kyle like a book, and all he could do was stare at you with some twisted look of understanding and betrayal. Finally, his eyes tore away from your face for the first time in what felt like ages, but you didn’t like where he looked next. 

“Is that blood?” he asked as if the conversation the two of you had was completely forgotten. 

And it was. That deep red color seeped out of your poorly patched wound and soaked into the fresh cotton of your shirt. Superglue was able to hold it together throughout the night, and yet the moment your heart rate went up from that petty display of power, you paid dearly for it. You weren’t sure what hurt more. The unhealed gash on your side, or the fact that Kyle still showed you such softness despite everything you had said to him. 

“I should go,” you excused yourself as you turned to march off towards the living room. “Shepherd will start to worry if I’m gone too long, and it should be safe for me to travel now that it’s light out.” 

Without hesitation, Kyle followed close behind you as you made a beeline for your backpack. It didn’t take you long to fish your bulky sweater out, and you tried not to think about all the bloody items that you had shoved in with it the previous night. Really, even if you showed your face around him that morning, you still weren’t safe. You failed, and yet facing Shepherd seemed more favorable to you than spending another moment with Kyle. 

“Hey, wait a minute,” he tried to reason, “if you’re hurt I know someone who can help. Soap’s girl patches up people all the time.”

“She’s an ER nurse who works day shift,” you said as you shoved the sweater over your body with a restrained grunt. “She’s got people in real need to worry about.” 

It all happened too fast. You had spent a night under his roof and Kyle didn’t even realize the pain you were in, and that felt wrong. Yet, you were leaving. And some terrible part of him didn’t want you to, so when you turned to march towards the door with your bag slung over your shoulder, he grabbed your wrist in some last attempt to get you to stay. Instead, he got nothing out of you but a pained squeak, and the moment you turned to face him with wide eyes, he let go of your wrist with the word sorry written all over his face. 

He was pretty. He really was. It was annoying. 

“I lied,” you suddenly admitted. “There was no way I could have known that you give a lot of your money to your dad. I don’t have access to your banking records, and never really had the need to. I only mentioned it because it fit you. It just seemed like something you would do.” You paused to swallow as you reached a hand up to your side. You could already feel the way the blood caused your shirt to stick to your skin, yet you forced yourself to endure. “You’re a kind person, Garrick. It’s a shame you ever got caught up in this kind of life.” 

There was nothing either of you could say as you turned your back to him. Nothing would change the fact that you were the bleeding enigma walking out of his penthouse, and all Kyle could do was stand there and watch as the door closed behind you. Maybe some other time he would be able to coax your history out of you. For the time being, you were still just Shepherd’s daughter, the woman whose name he didn’t even know, and yet the woman who turned to him when you needed it most. Maybe one day you would let someone care for your wounds. 

That day just wasn’t it. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you write something about Smoke taking care of their s/o who tried to hide their injury from a mission they just got back from?

Tomas’ trained eye noticed that something was wrong the moment you came back from your most recent mission. He was for certain that you were injured in some shape or form with the way you’d put extreme caution and thought into almost everything you did to throw him off your trail. But unfortunately your body tended to give away what was wrong with you with how your muscles would flinch or twitch in pain, or how your hand would immediately fly to your injured side after a fit of pained laughter.

Tomas wasn’t oblivious to the efforts you put into withholding your winces and groans of pain, thinking he was none the wiser but her was very much aware of the situation, seeing how you indirectly let on more then you probably thought. So getting you to sit down and allow him to take care of your wounds didn’t take Tomas long as he now finds himself stood in between your legs, one hand holding your head in place whilst the other worked in clearing the gashes you had scattered across your face with an look of intensity on his face.

‘Why didn’t you say anything before, why couldn’t you come to me when you’re hurt instead of having me to hunt you down and patch you up myself?’ Tomas broke the silence, only to hear your scoff.

‘You could tell that I was injured the moment I walked through that door Tomas. You saw through my bullshit attempt to not make you worry about my condition. I genuinely thought I could handle it myself because you’ve already go so much on your plate that I didn’t want to add onto it with some minor scratches and possible bruised ribs.’ You replied, wincing slightly as Tomas sighed at your reasoning.

He wanted you to rely on him when it mattered most, to know that you could go to him no matter what because what he wanted to be to you was a safe haven where you could be vulnerable without fear of judgment or shame. He wanted to be a place for you to rest your weary head upon and allow him to take of you, but you were about as stubborn as an old mule and tended to make things a lot more difficult for yourself. Almost as though you were trying to prove something when you didn’t need to, at least Tomas doesn’t think you need to prove anything to anyone.

‘Just because I can read you better than anyone else doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t tell me when you’re hurting.’ Tomas said, sighing. ‘I’d like to think that after awhile you’d trust me enough to talk to me about these kinds of things. And besides you shouldn’t have to feel bad about bothering me because you know that I’d drop everything for you, no matter the scolding that i will be on the receiving end of.’ He adds with a little laugh, finishing clearing up one of your wounds, covering it up before moving onto the next wound at your cheek, all whilst remembering to keep a steady hand.

‘I do trust you.’ You defended yourself and Tomas looked into your eyes with brows raised in skepticism and you couldn’t help but double down. ‘Don’t give me that look, I do trust you Tomas it’s just-‘

‘You wanted to deal with it yourself?’ He finished for you and you sighed.

‘Yeah. I wanted to deal with it myself, they’re my wounds to lick, not yours Tomas but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done for me thus far.’ You told him, wincing again as he patched up another gash that was on your chin, but managed to smile through the brief moment of pain. ‘Sometimes I think that I take advantage of your kindness sometimes.’ You admitted as Tomas scoffs as he gently rests his forehead to yours as to not irritate the healing wounds.

‘That’s a bunch of lies and we both know it.’ He says as he presses a tiny kiss to your nose. ‘Now will you please let your personal doctor work.’ He adds teasingly as you let out a little chuckle and allowed him to continue patching you up for the rest of the evening.

[arctrooper69]

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Beta-read by @dragonrider9905

Chapter 2:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Jealousy, canon violence.

--------------------------------------------------

Why does she have to come along? You thought bitterly as the ship rattled through the atmosphere.

It was one thing for Phee to come along, but her sister was another story altogether. You had no problem with Phee. She’d proven herself to be extremely helpful when things went south; she was fun and easy to get along with.

Tara, on the other hand, though you’d only worked a job with her twice, seemed to be the opposite. She was nice enough and shared her older sister’s enthusiasm for adventure, but that was where the similarities ended. If Phee was fire, Tara was ice. The others seemed to tolerate her, and you had to admit she was good at her job. Omega enjoyed her stories as much as she did Phee's and for some reason that irked you as well.

She used to come to Hunter for everything.

Hunter and me, you thought bitterly. Lately it was all Tara and Phee who occupied her attentions.

Tara seemed to have a way with people. She’d talk someone up, laugh, and bat her eyelashes, then suddenly the datastick - and sometimes their wallet - would find itself tucked away neatly in her pocket or wherever else she could hide it. Phee spoke highly of her. According to Phee, her sister could draw the attention of a target and sweet talk them into giving her information just as easily as she could disappear entirely in a crowded market - stolen information taken without a hitch. You’d seen the former on the last mission. In just a matter of hours, a few drinks and conversation combined with a pretty dress and tasteful jewelry was all it took for the officer to let slip the location of Cid’s coveted artifact. Even Tech had seemed impressed.

“Good work,” Hunter had said to her, as she made her way back to the ship. His deep, husky voice stirred something inside you even though his words were not directed to you. You’d seen how she’d brushed up against Hunter as she passed him by on the way into the ship. Though Hunter had stepped aside and seemed to pay her no mind, you didn’t trust her as far as you could throw her.

And with how thin she is, I could probably throw her pretty far, you thought with a smirk that quickly disappeared as you looked up.

Hunter currently stood behind her in the cockpit, hand gripping the back of her chair. Her hair brushed across his fingers as he peered over her shoulder at the datapad in her lap.

The ship shuttered and dropped in altitude, ripping you from the jealous thoughts.

Tech, grappling with the failing controls, glanced over at them saying something you couldn’t quite hear over the turbulence.

Another jolt sent you stumbling into a chair, pulling you roughly back to the situation at hand. Hunter grunted at something she said and turned back to the others,

“Strap in,” he commanded, “We’re in for a rough landing.”

You could feel his eyes burning through the back of your head as you fumbled the straps, clipping yourself into place. Undoubtedly he could sense your discomfort, though you doubted he knew the true cause.

He strapped himself into the seat beside you, placing a hand on your knee.

“Relax,” he whispered, “It’s nothing we haven’t done before.”

You froze, staring at his hand on your knee, that strange but familiar warmth burned fiercely through your chest.

He snatched his hand away as though he’d been burned and you found your eyes following the motion as he placed it awkwardly in his lap. He shifted almost immediately to the other seat beside him. Towards her.

The sense of warmth you’d felt evaporated as quickly as it came, replaced with an ache that ran through your body like an icy chill and you shivered.

“The storm is interfering with the navigation systems,” Tech called out, “I am going to attempt a manual landing.”

“Oh boy…” Wrecker’s nervous grip tightened on the shoulder straps that buckled and strained to keep him in place, his fingers finding the well-worn grooves in the metal handle. “We’re gonna crash! We’re gonna crash! We’re gonna crash and die!” he shouted mostly to himself.

You were never sure if he was actually truly terrified or if it was just an involuntary reaction to the adrenaline rush that came with the threat of death.

Probably a bit of both. You found yourself grinning at him, feeling the rush through your own chest - a strange mixture of terror and euphoria that kept you on your toes, ready for anything.

A sharp drop threw you backwards into the seat sending a throbbing ache through your skull, thankfully muted by the protective restraints.

“Ow! Kriff!” Wrecker shouted as his head bounced off the wall, his seat too small to adequately protect his large frame. A loud clatter sounded through the ship, adding to the chaotic clamor of the storm outside.

“No!” cried Tara as the datapad flew from her grasp, sliding across the floor. She reached for her seatbelt.

“Leave it!” Hunter snapped, his hand immediately sliding down to his own safety latch.

Tara shook her head, “We need that information!” She glared over at the fallen datapad with an unyielding determination as she unlatched her straps and staggered to her feet.

“Don’t! It’s not worth anything to us if you’re dead!” shouted Phee as she too reached for her seatbelt, prepared to retrieve her sister. Tara stumbled against the wall as the ship shuttered, sending the datapad further away. She growled in frustration.

“Everybody stay where you are!” Echo’s voice carried over the cacophony of mechanical failure and falling debris, projecting an air of gravity perfected only by an ARC trooper’s experienced command. Phee removed her hand reluctantly from the latch, teeth on edge as she watched her sister stumble to her knees, fingers barely brushing the edge of the datapad before it violently slid away once more. Tara dove after it.

“Almost got it!”

“Tara look out!” Omega shrieked as Gonky came screaming down the short passageway. In a flash, Hunter was out of his seat, tackling Tara to the ground, curling protectively over her as Gonky smashed into the bulkhead where she had been leaning only seconds before.

The ship spun again and Hunter braced himself against a console, grabbing hold of Tara’s arm, dragging her upwards. The datapad slid over and she reached down, snagging it quickly.

“Got it!” She shouted triumphantly, apparently unphased by the fact that she was nearly killed.

Hunter grabbed the datapad from her hand and tossed it to you with a practiced ease as he turned and latched Tara back into her seat.

You gripped the device tightly, watching intently as anger sparked in Hunter’s eyes.

“Don’t ever do that again!” He sank back into his seat and you averted your gaze, staring blankly towards the cockpit where Tech was slowly regaining control of the ship.

“We’re coming in too fast, Tech!” Hunter warned.

“Then I suggest you brace yourselves!” Tech snapped back, brow furrowed in concentration as he pulled the controls with all his might.

“Pull up! Pull up!” shouted Wrecker.

“I. Am. Trying!” Tech grit his teeth.

With one last tug on the yoke, the ship collided with the ground in a wet clatter of fallen tree branches and mud, skidding forward before coming to a roaring halt, just barely missing the edge of a sheer cliff.

Wrecker let out a sigh of relief as he got to his feet, lifting Omega to the ground. You followed Echo as he lowered the ramp and jogged out into the muddy terrain to survey the damage.

He whistled, hand resting on his hip while his scomp arm leaned against the side of the ship. He chuckled, shaking his head as he eyed the mere inches of ground between the end of the ship and the edge of the cliff.

“Cutting it close this time, Tech.”

Hunter grinned, clapping him on the shoulder, “He always does.”

Tech followed him down the ramp, adjusting his goggles, “We survived, did we not?”

“Barely,” muttered Wrecker as he surveyed the cliff and backed up several feet causing Omega to laugh.

“See? I told you we’d be fine, Wrecker.”

Phee’s eyebrows shot up as she joined them on the edge. “Woah! I knew you were good, Brown-Eyes, but this is somethin’ else. Nice landing!”

Tech looked up at her, smiling slightly before turning to glare at his brothers. “At least someone here appreciates the amount of precision and skill it takes to achieve a landing like this.”

Tara was the last off the ship. You handed her the datapad and she cleared her throat,

“Alright, guys. We’ve got a bit of a ways to go, so we should get moving.”

Echo nodded in agreement as Wrecker picked up his pack.

You blinked, not making any move to grab your own pack. Who died and made you squad leader?

Her knack for seizing control of the situation irked you and you found yourself almost unconsciously spinning around to face her.

“Actually, it’s Hunter who gives the orders here, not you.” The words were out before you could even think to stop them. Tara looked surprised. Wrecker froze, pack hanging limply from one shoulder, eyes moving between you, Tara and the rest of the squad. Echo raised an eyebrow. The awkward pause lasted only milliseconds, but to you it felt like an eternity before Hunter stepped in with a sigh, raising a disarming hand. Something indiscernible flashed through his eyes as he looked at you briefly before taking control of the situation.

“Tara’s right…”

The rest of his words were lost to you as a blazing humiliation burned through your chest, mixing strangely with that cold feeling you’d had before.

He took her side. Though you knew Tara was right, it still hurt. No matter how hard you tried to reason with yourself, no amount of logic could relieve the feeling of betrayal. AND I just made a huge fool of myself. Great job….

Wrecker elbowed you, shaking you from your thoughts. Your eyes snapped up and Hunter looked at you expectantly.

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

Kriff. “Y-Yeah!” you stuttered.

He didn’t look convinced but he continued on, addressing the whole team. “Alright then. Let’s get moving.”

Slinging your pack over your shoulder, you began to follow but a nudge from Echo stopped you. He shook his head, looking you over with evident concern written on his face.

“Did you not hear Hunter? You’re with Tech and I. We’ve got to get the ship repaired and primed for a quick takeoff.”

“Right,” you could feel your face warm with embarrassment once more, “Yeah. Guess we should get working then.”

“Yeah.”

Your hands reached for tools, fingers removing and replacing wires, working in a numbing mindlessness on repairs you’d done a thousand times over.

Of course Hunter took her side, idiot! You scolded yourself. She was right. You were wrong.

Tara had her mind on the mission. You had your mind somewhere else, overthinking stupid, impossible scenarios. And yet, you found yourself thinking back to the chaos over and over again - seeing Hunter throw himself protectively over Tara, seeing Hunter’s hand on her arm, hearing his words to her in that deep, authoritative tone: “Don’t ever do that again!”

They were the same words he’d spoken to you just two days ago. The same day you’d seen Hunter in the closet with Tara pressed up against him. The worst part was that you weren’t even sure they were aware that you saw.

So now everyone thinks I’m just crazy. How could I have misread everything so badly!? Was I just seeing what I wanted to see when he had me in his arms?

Though you could’ve sworn that the look in his eyes held something special, it was obvious, now more than ever, that you had clearly misjudged.

--------------------------------------------------

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[mountainsandmayhem]

You're a Brat, Little Dove

Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You play with Joel at your 25 year high school reunion to get exactly what you want. CW: Dom!Joel, Sub/Dom, blowjob, throat fucking, gagging, nipple play, Brat!Tamer, unprotected p in v (they’re in a long-term relationship), oral (f and m receiving), anal play very briefly, pet names, cream pie kink, praise kink, degradation if you squint, denial and edging, NO AGE GAP (Joel and reader are in their 40’s)  A/N: I am absolutely BLOWN AWAY by the love that You're Mine and Stay Still have gotten. Truly, from the bottom of my cold, dead heart I really appreciate your likes, comments and reblogs. Hopefully you enjoy this one, as well. Dividers and banners by @saradika-graphics Word Count: 5.6k

Dress. Check. 

Nude heels. Check. 

2 daytime outfits.  Check. 

Drive home clothes. Check. 

Make up bag. Check.

Stop worrying so much. You’re not even leaving the country, you can buy what you forgot.

“You ok?” Joel asks as he wraps his arms around you from behind.

“Just the usual pre-travel anxieties.” You say, leaning into his warmth. Your arms unconsciously cross over his, hands resting on his forearms. 

“We’re not leaving the country, you can buy whatever you forgot,” you smile to yourself at how well he knows you as his lips press lightly to your temple. “Remember when I had to go out of town at the last minute before our Disneyland trip and you packed for all of us?”

“Mmhmmm,” you say. The memories come flooding in of those two little girls; one dressed as a princess from head to toe and the other refusing to take off her Darth Vader helmet. The latter was far braver on the “scary rides”, and held her sister's hand until they were both giggling and screaming with delight.

“You didn’t miss a single thing - for any of us. Including the nightlight that Sarah couldn’t be without and the granola bars that Ellie claimed were the only things she could have for breakfast.” 

You turn your head and gently press your lips to his. This is the kind of love that people write about. Supportive. Caring. Complete and unwavering trust. Each person is 100% in for the other, willingly giving when the other needs to take, and never keeping score. You don’t judge the other for any sort of anxiety they might be having or help they might be needing. Partners. Through and through. 

A noise from the kitchen brings you back and you break the kiss. “What is that incessant beeping?” 

“That’s your phone,” he laughs while pulling out of the hug and squeezing your sides. “It’s been going off all morning. Someone is messaging you on Facebook.” 

You squirm free of his wandering hands and go to brush your teeth. When you come back out to the kitchen he’s scrolling through the messages in your phone. 

“Who is it?” You ask, getting your morning coffee ready. 

Joel throws his head back, laughing loudly as he reads in a mocking voice, “Hi. Long time no talk. I saw your name on the guest list for the reunion this weekend. Can’t wait to catch up. Looks like you’re single. At least based on your profile. Glad to see you got rid of that goon you were dating in your 20s.” 

Your profile is blank, a picture of you holding baby Ellie the day you officially adopted her is the only thing on there, and you have maybe 15 friends. Truthfully, you aren’t even sure why you have it, even in the heyday of Facebook, you weren’t exactly a share-everything-about-yourself-on-the-internet type of girl.

“Oh god,” you laugh. “It’s Zack, isn’t it?” 

Joel wipes away a tear from laughing so hard. “Each sentence is its own message, but I’m a goon?” He slides your phone across the counter to you adding, “Can I punch him again when we see him?” 

Years ago, while visiting your parents, Zack got a little too handsy when you ran into each other at a local pool hall. Joel was and very much still is, a ‘touch her and die’ type of lover. 

You both laugh as you kiss him goodbye and head to work.

On your lunch break, you updated your profile picture to you and Joel with the girls at their high school graduation. Hopefully, Zack will get the message. By 5 pm you’re rushing home to get out the door and drive 5 hours to your old hometown. 

The minute you walk into the reunion you see women’s heads turning to look at Joel. You can’t say you blame them, Joel Miller is the dictionary definition of a DILF! And tonight, in perfectly tailored black pants, a crisp black dress shirt and black tie, his slightly outgrown curls pushed back, and grey scruff perfectly trimmed, he looks hot as sin. And then, just to add insult to an already smoldering hot injury, he recently came to terms with needing glasses for driving at night. Those black frames should be illegal. 

Over the last few days you’ve been sending him articles about spanking and on the drive up had an open and honest communication about what you both wanted out of it. Deep down you’re hoping tonight is your night, you’re tempted to just go back to the hotel and let him do whatever he wants. Instead, the two of you hit the bar to get a drink before finding a table to sit at.

“Who is that lady in the gold sequin dress with the black hair, almost directly behind you?” Joel asks awkwardly, sipping his whiskey.

You glance around the room, trying to not make it obvious when you catch the one person you don’t want around Joel staring right at him. 

“Lucy Garfield.” You say flatly. “She’s the one that slept with Zack seconds after I left for university. I thought they were married but she is eye fucking you so hard.”

“Gross,” he laughs, his nose crinkling up in disgust. He’s so endearing when he’s joking around with you, “Don’t say eye fucking.”

You laugh, “It’s what she’s doing Joel. I wonder how long before she’s over here talking to you.”

You start pushing your chair out from the table and he grabs your leg, “Leave me alone and you’re dead to me”

“Joel,” you giggle and try to push the chair more, “I kinda have to pee though.” 

“Babe, I'm serious. She scares me,” he says with a shudder. “I can feel her looking at me.” 

“Oh, she’s doing more than looking…” you tease, sliding your chair back in.

“Don’t say it.”

He squirms as you lean in to his ear and whisper, “Eye fucking.”

“I hate you.” 

After a few hours of catching up with old friends, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and grab another drink for you and Joel. When you come out of the bathroom Lucy is alone at your table with Joel. You can see the discomfort on his face as she shows him something on his phone. You’re not jealous or worried, but when Zack approaches you at the bar you decide to have a little fun.

“So you didn’t break up with him after all?” He’s leaning back cockily on the bar, arms crossed, eyes locked on Lucy. 

“No,” you laugh while ordering drinks; whiskey neat for Joel and a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon for you. “I never planned to.” 

“I figured. Lucy seems to take a liking to anyone you set your sights on.”

“You would know best, Zack.” You’re still facing the bar, but you see Zack glance quickly in your direction at the dig. “Any advice for poor Joel over there?”

“Don’t leave the best thing that ever happened to you for a gymnast with...” he stops speaking when he looks back to you, seeing you with one eyebrow raised as you sip your wine. “She and I are getting divorced.” 

“I assumed.”

“Oh?”

And that’s when you hear it. Your song with Joel. 

‘I know what you look like in the morning

Your kisses are soft and warm’

Joel looks around the room for you, when he spots you at the bar a mischievous grin crosses your face and you lean in close to Zack. 

“Dance with me?” You whisper, giving him the puppy eyes he never used to say no to. 

‘I can draw you with my eyes closed 

Seen you with nothing on but the radio’

He places a hand on your lower back and leads you to the dance floor before pulling you in close. Huh, you think to yourself, 25 years later and still got it.

You look away from Joel and give Zack a tight lipped smile as the first verse of the song melts into the chorus. 

‘I know the kind of thing that makes you laugh 

The way you tilt your head for a photograph

What other guy knows you like that’

You fight the urge not to look past Zack’s shoulder and over at Joel as Zack’s voice drones on in the distance, telling you about his divorce. 

‘And I can name the first guy you ever kissed’

You can’t help but sneak a glance at Joel. Zack is the first guy you kissed and Joel knows it.

‘I can name the perfume on your wrist’

Joel crosses his arms, staring at you darkly from across the room. Fuck, you think maybe you bit off more than you can chew.

‘What other guy knows you like that’

Joel stands and strides over to you. 

Yes. Got him. He doesn’t look mad, if anything he’s looking at you with dangerous desire in his eyes. Your heart flutters as heat travels between your thighs.

“Babe, we gotta go.” 

Zack starts to protest but you release yourself from his arms and say with a big smile, “It was lovely catching up. Thank you for the dance.” 

As Joel leads you off the dance floor he growls quietly in your ear, “You’ve been a very bad girl, Little Dove.” 

The car ride back to the hotel is silent. Not a word is uttered between either of you, the second the elevator door closes Joel presses you back against the wall.  Towering over you, one of his hands roughly pulls down the right cup of your dress and bra, he pinches your nipple hard between his thumb and pointer finger. 

You gasp out in pain, but he doesn’t say anything, just glares down at you. As the pain morphs into pleasure you squeeze your thighs together, your panties starting to soak through. He releases you when the elevator stops and turns his back to you, you cover your abused nipple back up before you follow him into your room.

“Clothes off and kneel,” he growls, throwing a pillow haphazardly at your feet.

“Joel-I…” you stutter out. He stalks across the room, only the discarded pillow separating you. 

“I said,” he starts harshly. “Clothes off and kneel, Little Dove.”

You swallow the dry lump in your throat while sliding the zipper down the side of your black dress, letting it fall to the ground. A deep, guttural moan escapes Joel as you kick the dress aside and remove your bra and panties. You’re completely bare for him, nothing but your nude heels left. 

“That’s better. Now kneel.” 

You do as he says, getting into his desired position; hands on your lap and eyes aimed at the floor in front of you. He bends, cupping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. You expect to see his eyes dark and lips tight, instead, you’re met with softness, his chocolate brown eyes boring into you.

“Little Dove,” he starts, his voice just barely above a whisper. “I am going to punish you for being a brat tonight. Everything I plan to do is things we’ve talked about.” 

“Like what?” You ask as your mouth goes impossibly dry.

“No, you don’t get answers tonight. You’re in trouble. Do you remember your safe words?”

You nod, “Yes sir.”

The colour coding system is how Joel prefers to do things. Red if you need to end things, yellow if you need a break or to slow down, and green to keep going.

His thumb caresses your cheek, “That’s my girl.” 

Joel stands abruptly and your gaze follows him. When he looks down at you, his features are no longer soft. His eyes are almost black, eyebrows slightly knit together and jaw clenched. He snaps his fingers and points at the ground and you immediately obey, shifting your gaze back to where he prefers it. He walks across the room, uncuffing the sleeves of his black dress shirt and rolling them up his thick forearms. You hear the unmistakable sound of him removing his tie and his glasses being placed on the table.

“You were a brat tonight, Little Dove,” he says darkly. “Remind me, do I like brats?” 

“No, sir.” It comes out in a nervous squeak.

Joel stares at you for a while and it’s nearly impossible to keep your eyes on the ground. If Joel had to classify himself, he’d say he was a pleasure Dom. He’d rather use pleasure until you’d beg him to stop, but pleasure is earned, and you used that song and your ex-boyfriend to get to him tonight. He saunters back over and pets your head, just as you start to close your eyes and lean into his touch he grips your hair hard and pulls until you’re once again looking up at him. A shocked yelp comes out of you as you make eye contact. 

“I think you did this on purpose because you so badly want me to spank you.”

“N-no, sir.” 

“No? I bet if I reached in between your legs and felt your pretty little pussy she’d be soaked for me right now. Am I right?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“Take out my cock, Little Dove.” 

His grip on your hair doesn’t loosen as you reach up with shaky hands to undo his belt and pants. As you slide his dress pants down his thick thighs you can see him already hard under his tight black boxers. As you lower those, his thick cock springs free, brushing against your face.

“Hands on my thighs,” he barks.

You jump slightly at the harsh tone and move your hands to rest along the sides of his thighs. He moves his free hand to one of yours and taps on your hand 3 times. “You do that if you need to stop. Show me.” 

You tap 3 times on his thigh like he showed you. “Too bad you were such a bad girl tonight. I wanted to please you and not punish you.”

He moves his hand to fist his cock a few times. It brushes your lips as he continues to speak. “Who do you belong to, Little Dove?”

“You sir,” you answer firmly but quietly. 

“That’s right. Open.”

You lick your lips and obey his orders. He lines himself up and slides the tip of his cock in your mouth, pumping his shaft slowly with his hand, the other still locked in your hair. 

“Mine,” he says it like he’s claiming you as he works more of himself into your mouth. You’re surprised how he takes his time, inching in a little before pulling back, letting you swirl your tongue around to get him nice and wet. When he’s finally all the way in, pushing against your gag reflex he groans out, “So…completely…mine.”

You look up at him through your lashes and remind yourself to relax your throat and breathe through your nose, moaning around his cock before he pulls it all the way out. Saliva falls from your mouth and he smirks at you cockily while he fucks himself with his palm, the tip of his leaking dick resting on your tongue. The salty taste of his pre cum sends a fresh wave of arousal to the apex of your thighs, you can feel it gathering on your calves that are tucked underneath you. 

Without warning, Joel starts to fuck your throat. He pushes himself all the way in and you gag around him before he pulls out halfway. He continues this punishing rhythm for a while, muttering darkly about how you’re a bad girl and you deserve to be punished.  

You’re taken aback by how much you fucking love it. Watching him tower above you all big and strong but you know he’s falling apart. He’s becoming putty because of you and your mouth. It’s filthy and slightly degrading, but you realize that you’re the one in control here. You could do this forever and make a mental note to find times to act out more often.  Tears start to run down your cheeks as his thrusts turn sloppy. You know he’s close so you hum around his cock.

“Oh fuuuuck, baby.” He pulls himself out and steps back, strings of saliva falling from his cock and landing on your chin. Your hands hit the ground in front of you as you gasp in a full breath for this first time since he started using your mouth.  The heat between your thighs is starting to become unbearable.

“What did you think was going to happen - huh?” he says in a deep and condescending tone. “That I’d spank you and then make you come?”

“I’m sorry, sir.” You’re not sorry though, you’d do it again just to feel that gush between your thighs when he hits the back of your throat. 

“Only good girls get spankings. So let me make myself very clear.” You straighten your spine and look up at him as he goes back to petting your hair. 

“You are not allowed to cum.” His voice is deep and scratchy, you’re sure he could make a living by narrating erotica, but that voice is yours.

A small whimper escapes you as he continues. “I’m going to continue to use you how I want. If I think you’ve proven yourself to be my good girl, you’ll get that spanking you want so desperately. Understand?” 

He almost purrs as he says good girl and it turns you feral. “Yes, sir.” 

He reaches a hand to you and helps you stand. He gently wipes the tears from your cheeks before kissing the tip of your nose. “Get on the bed.”

As you walk to the bed you bring one leg up to remove your heels. “Leave them on. Hands and knees, Little Dove.”

Fuck, he knows this is your kryptonite. And fuck, you’re back to thinking that maybe you bit off more than you can handle. Joel is predictable about his Sunday plans during football season and nothing else. 

After stripping off his clothes he comes up behind you, rubs the warm tip of his cock through your slit and he lets out a deep moan. Both of you can hear the wetness as he moves from your clit to your ass. “Mmmm - my bad girl clearly liked having me fuck her throat. You’re soaked for me.”

A firm hand pushes down between your shoulder blades and your upper body hits the mattress. at this new angle, everything is bare to him. 

“Mine,” he says again before placing a few long, slow licks from your clit to your ass, swirling and pressing his tongue in all the right places. “So…completely…mine.” 

His tongue teases your clit as he lightly teases your ass with the pad of his thumb.  The heat begins to spread to your spine, the world falls away and all you’re left with is Joel.  Joel and his wonderful and magic tongue.  Joel and his ability to make you cum.  His voice from earlier rings through your cries of pleasure, ‘you are not allowed to cum.’

“I…n-no…” you stutter, squeezing all your muscles to stop the orgasm that’s fast approaching. “That’s gonna…I’m gonna!” 

“Don’t you dare, Little Dove.” He bites down on your ass cheek and you yelp in pain, but glad for the distraction from how close you were to finishing. 

“Such a bad little girl tonight.” He says into your skin before continuing to tease you with his tongue, swirling your clit, moving to gently flick your ass, then back to your clit. You never know where his tongue might explore next and you find yourself mentally mapping out each aisle of your favorite grocery store with your eyes clamped shut to distract yourself. 

“I wanna be a good girl,” you beg, utterly desperate to follow his rules tonight. “Please stop. I wanna be good, sir.” 

“Poor thing,” he says mockingly, rising and sliding himself inside you so slowly that you feel every inch, vein, and ridge. 

“Fuuuuuuuccccck,” you gasp as he bottoms out. A small, pleading ‘please’ escapes your lips but you don’t even know what you’re asking for. Your body feels like liquid at this point, every muscle relaxed and every bone somehow missing. It’s a complete state of nirvana, if only he’d let you cum.

“Not yet,” he drags out of you and slams back in, a complete juxtaposition to how he first entered you. His grip on your hips is so tight that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow. “This is my pussy, mine. Say it.”

“Y-yours…” you manage to whine. “oh fuck…yours Joel.”

“That’s right, babygirl.  Mine. So…completely…mine.”

One of your shoes falls to the ground as he continues to slam into you.  You no longer know the difference between right and left, you just know that one shoe is missing. As you reach back to touch him, he pins your hand to your lower back, sliding almost all the way out before slowly pressing his hips flush with your ass. 

“No,” he says sternly. “Only good girls get to touch.” 

You scream out his name, begging him to let you cum. Joel leans forward and pulls you up, still fully inside of you, he holds you still against his warm chest, the combination of your sweat and his sweat feeling sticky along your back.  

“You like when I use you like this, Little Dove?”

“Yessss,” you whine. You force yourself not to roll your hips even though the need to orgasm is almost painful. The word yellow flows through your mind. You could say it. You could say it and get what you want, but you trust Joel. You trust that he has bigger and better plans for you. 

“Say it,” he commands while rolling your earlier pinched nipple between his fingers. 

“Use me, sir….Please. I want to please you.”

“That’s my girl. My perfect little submissive.”

He pushes you back down into the sheets and fucks you harder. The sounds of skin slapping skin and your moans and squeals fill the room. You tense every muscle again to stop the orgasm that’s right on the surface. 

“Where do you want it, Little Dove?”

“Inside me, sir.”

Joel curses through gritted teeth. “Fuck, baby.” 

“Fill me, sir.”

“Such a filthy little girl. D’you know that?” His voice is strained, you know he’s close and you just have to hold off a little longer. 

“Only for you,” you say through moans and gasps.

That’s what does it and you push him over the edge with your words, the heat of his spend filling you as he lets out a loud moan. “Good fucking girl.”

He moves his hips into you a few more times, filling you so much it starts to leak out. “Fuck, takin’ me so well, soundin’ so goddamn sweet as you beg.” 

He doesn’t stay in long after he cums, which you’re thankful for because you’re sure a faint breeze could make you detonate at this point. He steps back to admire the mess he’s made, using his fingers to push his cum back inside you before sitting next to your knees.

“Get over my knee.” 

You rush on shaky limbs to get over this lap, wiggling your ass in nervous excitement. He uses one hand to pin your wrists behind your back. “Mmm - that’s my good girl.” 

Joel uses his other hand to draw slow circles along your cheeks. His warm and calloused fingers send shivers across your body.  “How many do you think you should get?” 

“10,” you respond sheepishly. 

Joel laughs deeply to himself. “You were a brat. Do you really think 10 is enough?” 

You audibly swallow in response to what you know is a rhetorical question. You didn’t think your pussy could throb any harder, but his voice, his hands, and this position has every nerve in your body aflame. 

“20, and if you behave, I’ll stop at 15.” 

“Please, sir.” The anticipation is killing you.

“Ok. I am going to spank you with my hand 20 times. You are going to count and say ‘I’m sorry’ after each one. Understand?” 

“Yes, sir.”  You try not to whine, but you need to be touched,

“Give me a colour baby”

“Green,” you whisper needily. 

2 sharp and quick slaps hit your ass.

“1 and 2,” you squeal, “I’m sorry” 

Light finger strokes tickle along the back of your thighs and up towards the now stinging skin. Joel’s hand disappears from your body and you tense. 

“Shhh,” his thumb holding your wrist strokes the soft skin. “Take a deep breath, Little Dove.” 

You inhale shakily, as you try to relax on your exhale, his hand comes down again. When the two of you did your research on spanking, all the experts said you’d know the sound of a good spank, and Joel being, well Joel, has taken it to a new level of perfection. His third spank stings, but it’s quickly replaced with a fresh wave of warmth in your core. 

“Three. I’m sorry,” you love how quickly he can turn you into a whining mess.

From that point you’re in a trance. You almost feel like you’re floating outside your body as Joel continues your punishment. You hear your voice counting each strike of his hand.  A rush of adrenaline courses through you after each one and you can feel his spend leaking out and dripping in between your thighs.

“Eight. I’m sorry” 

“Messy messy girl.” He says, swiping a finger up your thigh and through the folds of your swollen pussy, he stays away from your clit but you could scream with how good it feels. “I should make you clean this up.” 

You turn your head, glancing over your shoulder to face him, readying yourself for him to slide his fingers down your throat. Instead, he licks his fingers clean and then lays 3 quick smacks across your ass. 

“Eleven. Oh god,” your body jolts with the first one but by the third you’re rolling your lips into him for friction, you need more. More pain. More of his fingers. More of anything and everything he’s willing to give you. “I’m sorry.”

Joel isn’t surprised to see that you like the pain, but he is surprised by how much he likes seeing you in pain. He was hesitant about this whole thing, worried about hurting you, but you’ve never looked more beautiful. A blush lights your face and neck, a thin sheen of sweat across your body. Your squeals and cries slowly become wanton moans. He knows it hurts you, but he can also see how that pain is temporary followed by a rush of adrenaline and pleasure. 

“Good job, Little Dove,” he rubs the red hand prints gently. “Fuck, I don’t deserve you.” 

You relax into his lap as his praises wash over you. You feel completely submissive to him and for the first time, you feel what he said earlier. You are his. So completely his. 

“My,” SMACK 

“Perfect,” SMACK

“Little,” SMACK 

“Submissive,” SMACK 

They happen so quickly that all you can do is moan loudly in ecstasy, heat flooding your core to the point that it’s unbearable.  Pressure behind your eyes builds as your neediness grows.  

“Fif-fifteen. I’m sorry, sir.” You’re squirming uncontrollably, tears threaten to spring from your eyes.

“Please - please. It huuuurts.” Joel knows it’s not the spanking that hurts, it’s the animalistic need to cum that’s causing you so much discomfort. 

“There’s my good girl,” he growls, sliding 2 fingers deep inside you. He curls them forward into your tight and messy heat. The squelching of his cum mixed with your arousal fills the room.

“Does this feel good, Little Dove?” 

“Please Joel,” you sob through stuttered breaths, unable to hold back the tears any longer. “P-please - don’t stop.”

“Fuck I love when you say please. Did you know that?  How it makes my cock twitch hearing you whine sweetly, asking so nicely.” 

He slows his fingers, he knows how sensitive you are, he can feel your pussy gripping tightly to his fingers and he wants to bring you pleasure now, not push you into overstimulation. “You took those so beautifully, Little Dove. I’m so proud of you.” 

You cry out a thank you, your orgasm is right there, the heat in your stomach and spine ready to erupt and spread to the rest of your body. As you squirm on his lap you can feel his erection growing beneath you. Joel continues curling his fingers against your most sensitive spot, his other hand letting go of your wrists and moving to soothe the handprints he left. The gentleness of one hand combined with the demanding desire of the other sends your mind swirling. 

“Get up, baby girl.” He slides his fingers out from you and you want to cry out and complain before he adds, “I want you to cum on my cock.” 

Joel steadies you as you stand up in front of him, “Hold on, spin around.” 

You do as he says, albeit slightly confused until he presses his lips to the bright red handprints he’s tattooed across your skin. 

Yep, you think to yourself. I’m His. So completely his. 

You lay back on the bed, Joel crawling between your legs. He’s looking at you the way he used to when you first met, taking in every inch of your skin almost as if to commit it to memory. It’s the complete opposite of how he looked at you while you danced with Zack. His dangerous desire has turned to an overwhelming softness. 

“Lift your hips, baby,” he slides a spare pillow under you. 

His strong hands massage your hips gently as his eyes rake over your red and swollen pussy. “Oh - that looks painful, baby. Do you need me to take care of it?” 

You whine out in frustration, “Please, sir. I need to cum. Please.” 

He lets out a whispered ‘oh god’ at your pleas, hooking one of your legs in the crook of his elbow, the other wrapping around his waist as he lines himself up and then leans down to softly press his lips to yours. He slides inside of you slowly and you’re instantly shaking underneath him. 

“Shhh, you’re ok,” he whispers into your lips before kissing you harder, rocking his hips with perfect precision. “I’m right here. I got you, baby. I got you.”

The soft part of his belly grazes your clit and you cry out into his mouth. “Oh god - I’m gonna cum.” 

“There you go, baby. Cum for me.” 

You fall apart around him, your head falling back in a silent cry to the ceiling. A buzz of electricity shutters through your whole body, your walls clenching around him harder than you thought was possible. 

“That’s it,” he says into your neck as he licks and kisses. “Let go for me.” 

His words spread more tingles along your skin, you tangle your hands in his curls and pull his face to yours. Kissing him deeply as you start to come down. He stills inside you as he comes again, sending you into a wave of aftershocks. You swallow his moans in your kisses, you never want this to end.

“Stay here honey,” Joel says, getting up to walk with wobbly legs to the bathroom. He comes back with a warm cloth and carefully wipes you clean. Your body jolts and you cry out when he gets near your clit, he whispers apologies while drying you with a towel.

You start to get up. “Are you ok?” he questions. 

“I have to pee,” you laugh. As you wash your hands you take in your reflection. Your poor nipple is purple from the elevator, you have mascara down your face, and as you predicted, you are already bruising from his grip on your hips. You spin to see angry, dark red splotches along the globes of your ass and you smile at yourself. Fuck, is there something wrong with me? 

Even though you’re exhausted, you practically skip back out to the bed where Joel is holding a big glass of water and some soothing lotion that he purchased weeks ago for this exact moment. He laughs and shakes his head, he knows he’s in for it now seeing how happy you are with yourself. 

“Drink this and then lay on your stomach please,” adding a quick, “you little brat.” 

“So bossy.” You joke and roll your eyes, but you both love this part and as elated as you are right now, you know you need the aftercare so that your anxieties don’t get you later. So, you do as he says. You drink the water and then lay on your stomach. Joel rubs the cooling lotion on your marks and then places long, light kisses along your spine.

“How are you feeling?” He coos between kisses.

“I’m great. That was amazing. How are you feeling? I know you weren’t too sold on spanking me.”

Joel lies beside you and pulls you in, his front presses against yours, both of you using your own arm as a pillow. “Honestly, I’m surprised by how much I liked it. You looked so beautiful the entire time. I didn’t think I would like it, but….” He trails off looking slightly embarrassed, using his free hand to play with your hair. 

“But?” you push.

“But…well a man my age doesn’t get multiple orgasms very often, makin’ me feel like we’re in our 20’s again.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to act out more often. Any cute guys on the job site I can eye fuck?” 

Joel growls as he pulls you over to rest on his chest. “Mine. Now go to sleep, Little Dove. And stop saying that.” 

Tag List: @corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @mermaidgirl30 @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot

Also a special tag for @javierpena-inatacvest because I'm not on a mission to make her a Joel girlie.

[mokulule]

The Number You have Called Cannot Be Reached - part 8

Part 1 | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence So I promised this like months ago, and then got overwhelmed by having to manage the taglist resulting in me not updating this fic despite actually having written the next part. So that said this is the last time I'm tagging people, please subscribe to the masterlist - I'm gonna link it both here at the top and at the bottom. Anyways enjoy the next part:

Jason could handle this. He had handled this for years. The Pits were a known enemy. It shouldn’t effect him to this degree. But he could handle this. He could go about his day without putting heads in duffel bags, that had got to count as a win. The fact that he was avoiding his family, was just a precaution. Jason had everything under control.

Not like when he’d fled the Cave after assaulting Bruce in his stupid sweater.

That had not been his proudest moment. But the thing that really got to him was how he didn’t remember doing it. He didn’t even remember going to the Cave. When he tried to think it was all a green haze. The last moment of real clarity was opening Ghost’s bag and seeing nothing but dry protein bars. Knowing in his gut this was all he ate and that he stood with his food, and no way to give it back to him.

When he had fled the Cave, he’d gone home shaking like a leaf, and sunk to the floor trying to get his head back on straight. He didn’t know how long he sat there with his back against the door, just trying to breathe and search his memory. Eventually, though he didn’t know after how long, he found his phone and looked up the news. It had been a great relief to find that Red Hood had not been sighted, so he likely hadn’t been out on a murder spree he couldn’t remember.

But now it was days later. There had been no more green hazes. Things were under control.

Maybe he hit a bit harder, and a bit longer, when he went out. But it was the normal amount? Wasn’t it? Definitely not much more than normal, if it was more. That he was sure of… like 80% sure of. Jason rubbed the front of his helmet in lieu of his brow - It didn’t really help. What had Bruce even said that set him off? He barely remembered, something that felt demeaning, but the words escaped him no matter how many times he turned them over in his head. Normally he wouldn’t question himself that like, of course Bruce would have said something demeaning, he always did. He didn’t trust Jason, never would again. There would always be suspicion and doubt. But now…

Jason’s hand clenched into fists. Now having been without the Pits’ influence, having seen Bruce trying to reach out to him, as awkward and resigned as it had been, he wasn’t so sure.

He wasn’t sure he could trust himself.

Maybe this was all Bruce’s plan? Another of his famous gambits - this one to fold Jason back under his control, with the pretense of love and family. Because surely he had been right all along and Jason needed to be watched, couldn’t be trusted on his own.

Jason ripped the helmet off his head, only barely stopped himself from throwing it. He gasped and breathed in deep, like a man drowning. He was the one in control, he reminded himself firmly. Not the pits. Not Bruce.

There was sound in his comms and he hastily pulled the helmet back on. Ghost had been sighted. He had to go. If he could just talk with Ghost, figure out what this was.

Ghost ran away. Immediately, as if he could sense Jason.

It was okay, Jason could handle this.

Oo o oO

Barbara tapped the space bar absently without actually pressing it. Keeping half an eye on her leftmost monitor which showed the program she used for the surveillance in Gotham, no persons of interest were pinging tonight so far, no alarms had tripped for about an hour. She had time to ponder the conundrum that was their reoccurring thief.

If the thief was building something the other night was proof the loss of the spectral calibrator, hadn’t put a stop to the progress. The thief never ran in the same direction so they still didn’t even have that to go by to narrow down where he stayed, when he wasn’t giving them the run around.

The odd reaction to Jason hadn’t made a reappearance. In fact the moment Jason joined them the thief disappeared immediately: density shifting into the ground. Jason was not happy about it to say the least.After the backpack full of barely edible off-brand protein bars had been delivered to the cave by Jason, Barbara would agree with Jason that whatever situation the thief was in, it was worrying if this was all that he ate. She still held by her assessment that the photographic evidence was of too low quality early in their run-ins because of the strange electromagnetic interference he gave off to actually judge if he’d lost weight - but he did look very gaunt now.

She leaned back in her chair. A cup of coffee was warm between her hands, she breathed in the familiar scent as she considered the known facts.

Name assumed to be Danny Fenton, potentially legally Daniel Fenton, though they’d been unable to find a match to his physical appearance and rough age in their databases. He hadn’t actually spoken to any of them, it was a very real possibility he was a foreigner, but they’d checked and he wasn’t wanted by any foreign intelligence services.

The phone was baffling.

It was a brick, and it looked like something from the early 00s, from around the time when handheld phones really started to be something everyone had.

Tim had asked for Barbara’s help after he hadn’t been able to recover the erased text messages for some days. Tim had filled her in on his discovery that while all the numbers coded into the phone led to a “the number you have called cannot be reached” message when called from the phone - some of the numbers were actually active when looked up; the Jazz one led to a pizza place and the Dad number led to an elderly woman with Chinese heritage who had no relation to anyone named Danny or Fenton. The rest of the numbers weren’t currently in use.

It was odd however that despite those two numbers being in use, they still got the cannot be reached message. Tim had suggested the program which made the phone able to piggyback on the mobile network without a sim was faulty, but it had been easy enough for Barbara to disprove by calling a local number which connected with no problem. Tim was brilliant but sometimes he got too caught up in his complicated theories that he forgot the simple things.

Her recovery program for the text messages had just finished running (this was her third attempt). She took a sip of coffee, leaned forward and promptly nearly spat it out when she saw the result. It went down the wrong pipe when she tried to recover and she coughed and sputtered. Carefully she put her cup on her desk before she spilled it.

Finally her airways were clear and she rubbed the bridge of her nose. Somehow this was Dick’s fault.

She had recovered the messages. They were there - time stamps and all. The last message received was over a decade ago in 2009 and wasn’t that ominous? But that was a side note to be pondered later, because the contents of the messages, oh this was malicious.

Somehow, before deletion every single message had been changed to “Ghost”.

Not just a single ghost, no, entire messages teasing at their original length, but just changed into ghost ghost ghost ghost ghost. A whole litany of ghosts.

And it was definitely Dick’s fault.

Next

So that was it, hopefully I will be able to get back in the swing of things now. Commentary and tags are a great motivator and I read them all. As stated this is last time I tag people, so in the future you can subscribe to the masterlist or on Ao3 where the edited and hopefully better version eventually goes up.

Tag list of doom part 1:

@thewondersoflebanon | @gin2212 | @busterkeel | @apointlessbox | @spoopyspoony | @charlietheepic7 | @proper-idiocy | @serasvictoria02 | @zgirlly | @emeraldcorpral | @mushroom-jack | @v-inari | @8-29pm | @quirky-gardener | @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff | @mars-the-witch | @elthepickle | @thegatorsgoose | @impulsiveasshole |

@tired-yet-awaken | @luagi-the-bestest | @britcision | @autumnwulf | @little-pondhead | @asphyxia778 | @sarina-elais | @may-rbi | @onlyhereforthechaos | @somuchyikes | @yjfk | @rosiea184 | @screamingtofillthevoid | @ailithnight | @writer-extraodinaire | @samgirl98 | @hanahaki-disease | @riverdancingwerewolves |

[puckarchives]

enchanted: q. hughes

blurb: what taylor swift said. / word count: 2.4k / pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader

The first time you met Quinn Hughes, you cried. No, literally — the moment you were introduced to the brunette was also the moment that some random person at the party you were at decided to throw his drink on the floor, where it was shattered into a million little pieces, some of which had ended up in your leg. Suffice to say, Quinn saw probably a lot more than he thought he would that night — including what you looked like when you were in pain.

Quinn hadn’t even hesitated when he realized ditched his friends and drove you to the Emergency Room, and he hadn’t left when he saw what a mess you thought you were, as he ended up staying with you until the early morning. He stayed cramped up in the seat next to your bed, soft breaths evening out until 7AM, where he all but had to run out in order to make it on time to his morning skate.

From there, your meetings were a bit serendipitous; only happening at the points in your life in which you least expected it. Since the entire debacle at the bar, the two of you had remained friends; it was hard not to, when, over the course of too many “accidental” meetings at different events, the two of you had realized that you were friends with a pair of siblings who, even in their obviousness, were trying to set the two of you up together. 

While he was friends with the older Norris, while you were friends with the younger (and less annoying, according to her,) sibling —  so when you found yourself living in Vancouver to finish up the rest of your graduate degree, both she and Josh had one thing in mind — getting Quinn a girlfriend. And who else would be perfect for their longtime family friend than the person they trusted most? 

So, it was decided — before you or Quinn even knew, the two of you were being set up from across the country, while both Norris siblings stayed near Ottawa, they planned to have both yu and Quinn seemingly meet by chance — even going as far as to set the two of you up on a blind date. 

By the time the two of you caught on to what was happening, however, neither of you could even sum up any anger; instead, the crushes the both of you harbored on each other were much too obvious to ignore the fact that you had fallen in love over the span of six months of “chance” encounters put together by meddling siblings who only wanted the best for each of you. 

Unbeknownst to them, however, both you and Quinn — despite being aware of the fact that you had a crush on the other — were still on the fence of starting a relationship. On your end, you didn’t want to pressure Quinn into a relationship where he’d get bored of you, and you didn’t want a repeat of the last time you had dated a hockey player, in which you were left in the dust, and in which your relationship always consisted of you putting in more effort than he did. On Quinn’s end, however, it was different — he didn’t want you to get hurt in case he disappointed you; he didn’t want you to feel neglected when he couldn’t be the version of his that you were thinking of in your head, and he also didn’t think you had liked him in the first place. 

It wouldn’t be until a few weeks later, however, when these feelings came to an abrupt halt. It was the middle of the week, and while the two of you were still in Vancouver — you finishing up your thesis and Quinn finishing up some promotional shots for Bauer, you found yourselves reaching out to the other for dinner. Of course it was as friends, but you both spent more time at Quinn’s apartment than you did on your own, so it wasn’t out of the blue to show up with a pizza box, and even an overnight bag. 

As you both practically devoured the food you brought, the subject at hand changed to your upcoming plans. Quinn had been asked to be a groomsman at the Tkachuk wedding, and before you knew it, he was asking you if you’d want to go, too. 

“Your last class ends the first week of July! And besides, I’ll take care of everything! I know my brother’s would love to meet you, and you know Brady by now,” he reasoned. And, to be fair, he had a point. You had met his brothers over FaceTime a few times, and had even said hello to them during one of Quinn’s home games briefly; but being his date? His official date? 

Almost as if he could tell you were on the fence about the topic, he quickly tried his best to put your anxiety at ease. “It doesn’t have to be official or anything, but I’d really like you to meet my friends. As more than just a friend, if you’d like that,” he said quietly, looking at you with a hopeful look. The thing you had come to learn about Quinn was that, even if his face didn’t change that much, his eyes told you everything you needed to know about how he was feeling — and right now, he looked hopeful; like he wanted you with him, as more than just a friend. He wanted you to be his date, and introduce you to people he cared about. 

Before you could see the hope turn into sadness in his eyes, you sat up straighter on the couch and looked straight at him. “I would love to, Quinn,” you whispered, before you reached out your right hand, and Quinn, picking up on the action automatically, entwined his fingers with your own. Now he smiled, his eyes not leaving yours as he picked up your hands and put a kiss to the back of your hand. 

“Good. Good, yeah,” he said, his face hunting at a small smile reserved only for you. “I’ll take care of everything, you just gotta show up and look as beautiful as you always do, ay,” he said. You could only blush, laughing quietly as he tried flirting with you. “Wow, Mr. Smoothtalker. First you ask me to be your date, and now you’re trying to butter me up? You’re a real flirt, huh?” you asked with mock sarcasm. He only laughed and winked, as the two of you turned back to the film you had forgotten about, your hand still firmly in his. 

It wasn’t until a few weeks later, the night before the two of you were scheduled to fly out to meet the rest of Quinn’s fellow groomsmen and join the family for the wedding’s rehearsal, that you stayed over at his place. Quinn had picked up dinner this time, and as you arrived at his apartment carrying your suitcase with you, he met you by the door. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he whispered to you as you closed the door. While the two of you were sure in your relationship, you were also still a fresh couple, and so Quinn hesitated kissing you right off the bat. Making the decision for him, though, you grabbed his nape, and brought his lips down to meet yours. “Hi, handsome,” you said back.

Quinn smiled at you, before his eyes lit up a bit. “I have a surprise for you, pretty girl. And I think you’ll like it,” he said. It wasn’t that you hated surprises, but you were concerned about how much Quinn had already spent on the trip, and even more that you saw he had rented a hotel room for the two of you. 

As he led you to his bedroom, he handed you a blindfold, which was really just one of his ties. “Getting kinky here, aren’t we, Mr. Hughe? Is the surprise that you’re gonna tie me up and finally bend me over your bed?” you whispered. And wow, where the hell had that confidence come from? 

Quinn laughed as you mouthed off. “No, but it can be part two if you’re good,” he said, the hand holding yours traveling up your forearm and up until it was cupping your jaw, where you then felt Quinn’s lips ghost against your own. If the tie hadn’t been covering your eyes, you’re sure you would have jumped his bones right then and there. 

As he continued leading you into his bedroom, you heard the rustle of some type of plastic, and before you knew it, your blindfold was being untied, and you were face-to-face with a gorgeous gown the color of lavender, which then melted into a darker purple in certain parts. It was beautiful; the dress of your dreams, if you were honest. 

“I— Quinn, what is this?” you asked as you spun around to meet his gaze. 

“It’s for you. For the wedding, and for whatever you want to use it for,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. For a moment, you couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. Quinn had gone above and beyond of what you had expected him to do; now, as you looked closely at the dress, you could see the bodice was almost sheer — the skirt having a slit up your right leg, and tiny flowers embroidered over the hemlines. It was beautiful. 

“And before you say that I didn’t have to get you anything, I wanted to. You deserve to be given pretty gifts, and that dress is for me as much as it is for you. You’re gonna look amazing, and I’m gonna be fighting off every other man while we’re there,” he said, now smiling at you. God, if you weren’t in love with the man at this point, you would have been.

“Well then. It’s only fair you’re the one that gets to see me in it first. And hopefully last, too,” you said, trying to seem as seductive as possible. It was interrupted when you laughed, unable to keep serious, but Quinn kept his eyes on you — they were soft, and there was something you hadn’t seen before — want.

By the time the actual wedding came around later that week, after having to get Quinn’s tuxedo dry cleaned one more time after he spilled something on it, you found yourself back in your hotel room getting ready — you had gotten your hair done by a stylist, and makeup done by a friend in the area — both of which Quinn had covered, and wow, if that man wasn’t spoiling you this week.

Putting the last touches on your outfit, you heard the door to the suite open, and in came Quinn — freshly trimmed beard, his hair cut, dressed to perfection, and he looked, for a lack of a better word, soft. He looked happy, and you couldn’t help but blush — hoping you were part of the reason. 

“I — wow, you look — wow,” was all he could say, his throat dry and all the words he wanted to tell you suddenly caught in his throat. You looked enchanting — a vision in your lilac dress that showed off your curves, showed your tanned skin and the remnants of how much you loved the sun. He was enchanted, just by seeing you. 

“I— thank you. Literally, for all of this. I feel like a princess,” you laughed. Quinn only smiled back, and before you knew it, he was asking you to turn around, facing the mirrored vanity set. 

“I have one more surprise for you, pretty girl,” he whispered, before he retrieved a box from his suit pocket. It was small, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think it was an engagement ring. Almost as if he could sense your peaking anxiety, however, Quinn explained what it was, while opening the small velvet box. 

“I was going to wait to give this to you, but I can’t anymore. This, Y/N, is a promise ring, and in giving it to you, I’d like to promise you a few things,” he started, as he grabbed your left hand, and slipped the ring over your finger. 

“I promise you that I will be there for you, for whatever you need, and to take care of you. I promise that I’m going to love you until I can put another ring on that finger, and I promise that you will always be the only woman for me, ever.

I came up here with you because, in all truth, I love you. You’ve shown me the best parts of myself — parts that I didn’t even know existed, and you make me so happy. Seeing you now, you are the most beautiful woman in the world to me, and I am so lucky to have you; so, so lucky, Y/N.” he finished, and god if you didn’t want to sob. 

Not trying to waste anytime, you grabbed Quinn by his lapels, pulling his lips down to meet your own. His right hand cupped the back of your neck, while your hand went up to cup his jaw, where he angled your neck a bit to give him better access. Quinn’s kisses weren’t like anything you’d ever experienced before, and you wanted them — all of them. 

As the two of you pulled away, Quinn rested his forehead on yours. “Did you really mean that?” you whispered. He only smiled down at you.  “You are the most enchanting woman in the world, Y/N, and I will spend as much time as I can proving that to you. You came into my life when I needed you most — you’ve turned my entire world upside down, since the first moment I met you. Even when I would have rather been anywhere in the world that night at the party, I’m glad we ended up in that hospital room. I’m glad Norris never stopped trying us to get together, and I’m going to be honest with you — I spent that entire night and day and all of the days up until now enchanted by you.”

“I’ve gone every single day wishing you were at my door, praying that it was our very first page, and that we wouldn’t end there. I’m wonderstruck by you, every single day — even when I thought that you were in love with someone else. I was — and I am, enchanted by you, Y/N. Utterly and devastatingly enchanted,” he said, and kissed you once more. 

[lyjen]

Deathwish

Summary: When Evan walks (Y/n) home to her apartment, they bump into something that turns (Y/n)’s cop radar on. They decide to check it out. But it goes horribly wrong when she makes a mistake.

9-1-1 Masterlist

…………………

“You know.. you didn’t have to walk me home.” (Y/n)’s voice spoke as her fingers intertwined with Evan’s, while he had his arm resting around her shoulders.

Evan smiled down at (Y/n). “You know I wouldn’t let you walk home alone. LA is full of creeps and criminals these days.“ He knew she would tell him to just go home.

They were walking home from the bar. Well, Evan was walking (Y/n) home from the bar. And after he watched her get in to her apartment, he would walk himself home. That was the plan.

The bar wasn’t that far from their homes. It was just a few blocks. A little bit too much to ask to call an Uber for.

“Yeah.. that’s true. But now that I’m a cop, I’m pretty sure i can handle it by myself is something would happen.” She says, as she glances a soft smile towards her boyfriend.

“Technically, you’re not a cop yet.” Evan spoke, as he received an offended look from (y/n). “I mean.. you are a cop! But not yet a cop.. cop. You know?..” He tried to talk himself out of it. He tried his best. God, she loved teasing him. To see him freak out like that, trying not to hurt her feelings..

She glances up at him, while their fingers were still intertwined together. As she starts to laugh at Evan’s try to save himself from this conversation.

Evan stops walking and let his arm slowly glide down her shoulder as she keeps on walking. He sighs while he shows a smile.

He knew he was panicking for nothing.

(Y/n) took place in front of Evan. “Yeah, I get it. I’m not yet a cop, I’m still a rookie. But I’ll get there.” She says determined.

Evan smiles and grabs her hand to pull her closer to his chest. He presses a kiss on her lips. Her hand tracing towards the back of Evan’s neck. For a second, it felt like it was just them. No drama. Just them.

(Y/n) flinches as she hears something falling in the alleyway they were standing in front of. Her head shot right to the entry of the narrow way. It sounded like break in noises. Her cop radar was already going off. “What was that?” She reacts to the sound.

Evan was also looking right at the alley. He pressed his lips into a thin line. As he softly shakes his head. “I don’t know.” He simply answers to her question.

She dropped her hand which was still placed on the back of Evan’s neck. And she pushed her jacket away, to let her right hand rest on her gun, which was pressed between her hip and her jeans. She always had a gun on her, now that she was a rookie. She turns her body away from Evan, so her body was facing the alley now.

“That were probably a few street cats messing around.”

For Evan it could be a couple of cats fighting and throwing stuff around. But it wasn’t that. It sounded suspicious. She knew the sound of a cat fight. And this wasn’t exactly the sound.

“Stay here.” (Y/n) whispers as she leans forward to take a step, but gets stopped by Evan pulling her arm.

“Are you kidding me? I’m going with you.” Evan stated with a low voice.

“Do you have a gun? Have you learned how to use one? No. So let me do this. I’ll be fine. Just trust me.”

Evan hesitated. But nodded in agreement. He knew he couldn’t stop her, once his girlfriend has something on her mind, he could try anything to go and stop her. But it wouldn’t matter because she would just go with her own plans.

Their eye contact disconnects, as she slowly but carefully walks into the alley. She can hear her own heartbeat beating in her ears and in her throat. She’d never done this before. But she had to step outside of her comfort zone if she wanted to be a cop.

Step by step, she gets deeper and deeper into the alley, holding the gun in front of her. She turns to the right. Following the soft voices she could hear. This alley was huge, like there wasn’t an end at all.

When she finally found the source of the voices, she kept waiting on the corner. So they wouldn’t see her. She could see three men, or at least she assumed they were men. All of them were wearing their hood. Which meant, those people were clearly up to no good.

She knew she couldn’t handle them on her own. (Y/n) had to call for back up. The only way to do that, was to call 9-1-1. But she had to get back to do that. Otherwise they might hear her.

When she heard enough, (Y/n) slowly started walking back the way she walked in here. “Going somewhere?” A low toned voice spoke up. Which send a shiver down her spine. There was a guy in front of her. Mask on, fully black clothed. When she feels how a few more came standing behind her.

She’s surrounded.

She feels a burning pain when something metal makes contact with her back. Which causes her to fall down on her knees, while she tries to break her fall with her hands. She holds herself up, keeping her from falling forward.

Tears started running down her face. The pain was spreading across her spine and shoulder blades. She started to breathe heavily, trying not to scream out, that’s the kind of reaction they wanted.

Not many seconds later, she felt one of the feet of the guys meet her abdomen. Which made her fall on her side. With her arms she reached towards her abdomen. She felt how the blood inside her body rushed through her veins to the place where the foot met her stomach.

A cough leaves (Y/n)’s mouth, blood mixed with spit coming out of her mouth. She groans at the burning feeling inside of her body. And with all of her strength she rolls onto her back. Trying anything to make the pain she felt to be come less.

He roughly grabs a fist full of her hair and pulls her up. Her back wasn’t touching the cold wet ground anymore. She was now sitting up, at least with the strength of the man in front of her. She didn’t have the power to keep herself up, to ease the pain that was pounding through her scalp now.

A furious yet annoyed look projected on (y/n)’s face “Mind your own business next time. Cop.” she collected all the spit and blood which filled up in her mouth, and spit it in the man’s face.

He lets go of her hair and wipes a hand down his face. She tries to break her fall with her arms and hands. Full with anger and disgust he takes a look at his hand, now full of the spit and blood. As he suddenly within a second points a gun towards (y/n).

“You have a deathwish? Cause I can make that wish come true right fucking now!” He said with a loud voice. (Y/n) stayed quiet holding herself up with her hands behind her back. Looking emotionless at the man.

(Y/n) had been in these kind of situations before. And she reached the point where if someone was pointing a gun towards her, it didn’t do anything to her anymore. It’s like she found the switch off button.

One of the others puts a hand on the top of the gun, and pushes it down to the ground, so it wasn’t pointing at her anymore. (Y/n) hears them mumbling something, she couldn’t quite catch whatever they were saying.

The man looks like he’s walking away. But then, within a blink of an eye, the man ran towards her. He’s standing over her, pushing her to the ground and hitting her in the face like she was a living punching bag.

Her vision turns blurry, and spots in black and white were starting to form in her eyes. She could still feel the man hoovering over her, as her vision totally turns into black.

Evan tapped his feet, and impatiently takes a look at his watch. Three minutes.. she went into that alley, three minutes ago. For him those three minutes, felt like three years. Evan couldn’t simply stand back and wait.

He wasn’t the type for it. He always wanted to help.

Evan knew that dating a cop, or a rookie, came with consequences, like his own job did too. But it was different. In some sort of way, it seemed like being a firefighter came with less dangerous situations. Yes, they’d run into burning building, help anywhere they could when they were in the middle of a natural disaster. But being a cop came mostly with weapons, criminals, drugs, fights and so much more where Evan didn’t have any experiences with.

It was scary because it was the unknown. He didn’t know what kind of criminals were running around in Los Angeles. He didn’t know what they were in capable of doing. Especially if they knew (Y/n) was a rookie.

“Come on..” he whispers to himself. He promised (Y/n) to stand back. To wait. To trust her. Yes, she’s a cop in probation period. But that’s still a cop. And she was a damn’ good one.

Another minute passes by. He groans, and let a hand go through his blonde curls. He sighs.

“Fuck it.” he mumbles to himself as he walks straight into the alley he just saw his girlfriend vanishing into. Gun or no gun, he was going in. Maybe he could fist fight himself out of it, if there actually was trouble. He had trained enough.

When he slowly, but carefully walks into the ally, Evan is focussed on every sound he hears. He can hear his own breathing fastening when he turns a corner.

Evan walks deeper and deeper into the alley, which truly felt like a maze by now. When he turns another corner he sees something on the ground in the distance.

Before he could even process what was going on, who or what was lying down on the ground a few feet further down the alley. But his gut was telling him that it was his girlfriend lying on the cold wet ground.

He feels how something cold gets pressed into the back of his shoulder. He hears a click. And within less than a second he could feel a cruel pain fill a huge spot on his shoulder.

(Y/n)’s vision was still blurry, but with every blink, they went a little more clear. She groans and turns on her side.

With her vision now being crystal clear. A gunshot rang through her ear drum. The gunshot went from a normal shot into a high frequency sound. She could see how a body fell down to the ground. Lifeless.

She doesn’t know who it was, who got shot. All she knew is that she needed to help. She rolled another 90 degrees, so she was now on her belly. (Y/n) tries to collect every single piece of energy she had left, and pushed herself up to her feet.

With her right hand still resting on her stomach, to try and ease the throbbing pain she felt from the bruises she assumed. She limps towards the victim. When she gets closer. She recognises that jacket. The grey jacket Evan wore at this exact night. “Buck?” She said with a confused tone. Why did he follow her? When she told him not to.

Panic rushed through her body when she saw her own boyfriend lying lifeless on the ground. She tries to run, but her body couldn’t handle it. So she made it a speed walk, mixed with a few limps in between her movements.

“Buck!” she called out louder through her sobs as she truly realizes what was happening. She drops herself to her knees next to his side as she cried his name out multiple times, with the hope that he would open his eyes. “Evan. Please Evan. Wake up.” She shakes his arm and pats her hand on his cheek.

(Y/n) takes a look at his body, scanning him for the wound that got him going unconscious. As she spots the wound, she immediately starts putting pressure on it. She pushes the skin down with as much strength as she got. Both of her hands were spread with blood. (Y/n) reaches with one hand into the left pocket of the jacket she was wearing, reaching for her phone. Smears of blood were over her phone when she tries to dial 9-1-1.

“Firefighter down. Firefighter down” she repeats with a voice which sounded like she was out of breath and sobbing.

After a while she hears the sirens of police cars and ambulances in the distance while she was still trying to keep enough pressure on the gunshot wound.

Her arms were starting to shake, she was tired. Her whole body was aching at the wounds they had left her with. She can feel the presence of a few people getting to her side and her Evans. “27 year old male, gunshot wound to the left shoulder. Unconscious since I found him.” She hears how one of them tells her that she can let go now. That they’ve got this.

It feels like everything around her was happening in slow motion. But she wasn’t really present, it’s like nothing in her brains seems to see what’s going on.

The second she feels a hand touching her shoulder, she lets go of her boyfriend’s body. And she gets guided towards one of the other available paramedics.

She saw a familiar face coming into view. It was Eddie, who was probably on shift because he was wearing his dark blue uniform. “What happened?” He instantly asked her when he recognizes (y/n). Her face had a few cuts mixed with bruises and a black eye.

For a second it was silent. “It’s my fault.” she whispers. His eyes narrowed, and a confused look was projected on his face. He didn’t understand. “What do you mean?” he asked her with a confused tone. “He told me not to go.” She cries. Eddies lips went into a thin line. “Come here” he says as he pulls her to his chest, and feels how instantly a wet spot on his chest is created because of her tears. After a few moments, he pulls back. And takes a look at her face, which didn’t look good at all. “Let’s check you out hm?” (Y/n) nodded, and limped with him towards the ambulance.

…………………

Evan was sitting in his wheelchair one of the nurses gave to him. He wanted to see his girlfriend so badly, that sometimes he’d try and sneak out of his room. But he never came further than the doorframe of his own room. After the workers decided he was fit enough to ride around in his wheelchair, he was outside her room within seconds.

He was staring at her, through the window with these awful hospital blinds. She was in her bed, eyes closed with her face facing the ceiling. A few cuts spread over her face and a black eye that was healing.

Evan was brought in, unconscious on a gurney. And (Y/n) was perfectly fine. At least that was what they thought. But right now, they were waiting for (y/n) to wake up.

“Thought I’d find you here… I was starting to think you’d rolled yourself out of this hospital by now.” Eddie’s voice sounded through his eardrums. He took place next to Evan, so that he was now also looking through the window.

After a few moments of silence. He broke the silence. “You know what she said when we got on scene?” Eddie paused. Earning a questionable look from Evan. “It’s my fault. That’s the first thing she said.” He continued. Buck looked at Eddie. But didn’t know what to say. As he turns his head back to peek through the window. When Eddie didn’t receive anything back. “She’s blaming herself Buck.”

“I know.” Evan says now, with a trembling voice. “She told me to stay back. But I’d never be able to forgive myself, if I didn’t go after her.” He continued.

“She could’ve died, Eddie.” Evan finishes his sentence, Eddie could tell that Evan was on the edge of crying. He could hear it in his voice. Eddie puts his hand on Evan’s shoulder to give him some comfort. “Let’s not talk about what could’ve or should’ve happened okay? She’s alive. And so are you. That’s the only thing that matters.”

“But what are you doing out here? Why aren’t you in there?”

Evan shrugged with his shoulders.”I don’t know.” He answered simply, while he was still facing the window. Eddie put both his hands into his pockets. “Yes you do know.” It suddenly was like Eddie was talking to a child. They were silent. Eddie was waiting for an answer from Evan.

“I’m scared..” Evan broke the silence. “I’m scared that, if I enter this room. I’ll make everything worse. Like I did with entering that alley.” Evan continued. Eddie sighs. “It’s like the universe put a curse on me. Because when something is finally going good, everything falls apart again.”

“Buck. Stop. You’re not cursed. You two were just at the wrong place, at the wrong time. But all I know is, at this very moment.. you are at the right place, at the right time.” Eddie tries to convince Evan.

“(Y/n) needs you. She needs you to hold her, and tell her that everything is going to be okay.” He finishes. Evan sighs deeply, as his eyes went from the window to his best friend. “The only way to do that. Is to go in there.” Eddie says, while his and Evan’s eyes make a connection. Evan pushes his lips into a thin line. Deep down, he knew Eddie was right. So he nodded. His hands went to the breaks of the wheelchair, to take them off so he could move the chair freely.

Evan couldn’t wheel himself. His shoulder was still hurting and healing from the surgery they performed on him. So Eddie pushed the wheelchair inside, so Evan could sit on the left side of her bed. Eddie patted him on the shoulder and left the room.

The room was filled with beeping sounds of the equipment which was connected to her body. He didn’t know what to do.

He sighs. “Why would you blame yourself?” He whispers. He decides to put his hand on hers. Her hand wasn’t cold. But it wasn’t warm either. He rubs his thumb over her hand.

“Remember when we met for the first time?” He smiles at the thought. “We got a call of a house fire. So went out to the call, and we found you and your TO outside the house with the victim. And Bobby got so mad at you two, because there were so many toxic gases in the house. But you went in to save that man’s life anyway without any gear.” He chuckles while a tear went down on his cheek. “He was so mad” he laughed while he squeezed her hand.

“And then when we offered you a health check. And after you got checked out when I was walking back towards the truck, to bring back my oxygen tank.. You straight to the point told me I was cute, and that we should go on a date.” He smiles at the memory. She was so straight to the point sometimes. And that’s what he loved about her. “I’m so happy that I listened to my gut, and went on that date. Even though everyone around me questioned it.”

Her head rolled to the left side, as she slowly opens her eyes. Her vision blurry, but with every blink it became clearer, and clearer. She smiled when her eyes connected with her boyfriends. Her throat was dry as she tries to swallow. “Me too.” She answers his last sentence. Evan’s smile grew wider as he puts his other hand on her cheek. “Hey” he says softly.

“I’m so glad that you’re okay.” Evan sighs as he puts her hand towards his mouth and gives it a kiss. But he notices how her facial expression changes within a snap of a finger. “What’s on your mind?” He asks.

“I should’ve called it in.” She sighs. Still blaming herself for the incident. “I could’ve just ignore the sound.” She goes on. Evan shook his head. “You were ambushed. And outnumbered. Any other cop, would’ve done exactly the same as you. You can’t blame yourself for doing something good, even if it goes wrong.” He tries to get eye contact with her, but she was looking at her feet. A tear falls on her cheek. Evan puts a strand of hair behind her ear. And wipes the tear away with his thumb.

“Don’t blame yourself for being who you are.”