#I really wanted to do Sticky since he grabs people's hands a lot
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oooo whichever characters you want and 57 for the writing prompts
57. Accidental hand-holding
Hi, Kat! I'm sorry it took me so long to finish this one, my writing brain kind of threw itself against the wall for a minute there. But! I have had an idea in mind from the very beginning, so I hope you like it!
"So," McCracken grinned, "I'll just let you duckies think about that for a while. Don't worry, I'll be back very soon."
With that, he shut the doors, leaving the Society in pitch blackness.
"That," Said Kate, searching for indifference and coming up with indignation instead. "was rude."
"He can't very well leave us down here in a smelly old cellar for long. Can he?" Constance's voice was losing some of its bravado.
"I'm sure they'll let us out soon," Reynie reasoned. "What good would it do to keep us here? They obviously want information, so they have to let us out sometime."
There was a pause.
"Sticky?" Constance ventured. "Are you alright? You seem... scared." She wasn't sure how to put words to the racing panic she sensed pulsing in time with her friend's heartbeat, but she knew that voicing it would make things easier.
"I'm fine." He responded stiffly.
"No," Constance said crossly, for it was easier to focus on being mad at Sticky than frightened of their situation. "You're not. Where are you?" She started feeling around in the dark.
"Constance, stop it. I'm right here." Sticky, too, reached out.
“Guys.” Reynie said, attempting to stop Constance from flailing around and hitting someone.
Kate, who could see better than the others, even in the near-total darkness they had been left in, swifty shot out her hands and grabbed Constance and Sticky’s wrists.
“Now, now, children,” She said in an overly cheerful and motherly tone, “Let us not fight. Here.” She placed Constance’s hand in Sticky’s, moved to set Sticky’s other hand in Reynie’s, and grabbed Reynie and Constance’s free hands herself.
“There.” She smiled. “Now we all know where one another is.”
And though they mightn't have said it, each of them felt some small comfort in holding another's hand. For there is something reassuring about being in contact with a friend when the whole world seems dark and fearful.
#Hoo#This got away from me a bit#BUT IT'S DONE#YEAH#I hope it is satisfactory Kat#I really wanted to do Sticky since he grabs people's hands a lot#But I thought this felt more natural?#Anyway I'll stop rambling in the tags now#asks#ask games
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Violent Little Thing
To the Sons of Anarchy, you're just Happy's neighbor that doesn't care for drama or the fact that they wear kuttes. But in actuality, you've dealt and probably have done far worse, and it isn't until you're kidnapped that they find out your secret.
Author's Note: Long time no see, huh? Does this mean I'm back? Hell no. This has been sitting in my drafts since mid-2023 and thought it was time to go out. For never having seen more than a few episodes, I love these SOA boys. I'm not super familiar with the lingo or clubhouse etiquette, so this is gonna take place away from that particular setting. Trigger warning for graphic violence and attempted sexual assault (it doesn't get far). Reader is gonna be a little… off the rails. Blame all the dark romance I've been reading lmao.
Before moving into your new home, you knew it was going to be a fixer upper. Fortunately for you, you loved working with your hands, and after having been banished to Charming in hopes of calming your inner demons, you were going to have a lot of time to do just that. But the joke was on your family because there was no calming your demons. People just needed to learn to not piss you the fuck off.
When you get to the house, however, you see that a majority of the work has already been done for you. The only thing left for you to do is paint the walls, rearrange furniture, and unbox your belongings. The electricity and water are already turned on, and wifi has been installed with your password on a sticky note.
The master bedroom is huge and you love it, but you don't have nearly enough belongings to fill it. Your queen-sized bed looks tiny and you immediately want something bigger. So heading back outside to your vehicle, you grab your bag that has your laptop inside and head back in. Setting up at your kitchen island, you search for a place that will deliver any type of food and beverage. You find a pizzeria just on the outskirts of town that will deliver to Charming, so you place a quick order. It's a forty minute wait period, so to pass the time you start looking up bedroom ideas.
You run across a California king bed, but none really catch your eye. What does catch your eye, however, are the DIY beds that touch from one side of the wall to the other. You take your laptop back to your bedroom so see if it's do-able, and come to the conclusion that it is. You'll have to add some floating shelves since you won't be able to have bedside tables, but that's perfectly fine with you. You then take the time to get down the measurements of your room because you still have to situate your dresser and mount your TV to the wall, and you need to make sure everything will fit.
Eventually your food gets there and, sitting at the kitchen island, you dig in. You slowly eat and drink your fill, and then place any leftovers in the already cool refrigerator.
Needing some bathroom necessities and sheets for your current bed, you unload your vehicle. You place each box in their respective rooms, but leave them mostly boxed up. And not wanting to get any TV's mounted or bed fully put together since you still have to paint the walls, you remain on your laptop to pass the time and send messages to your family to let them know you're okay.
It takes you a couple of weeks to build your bed frame, get in your special ordered mattress, and paint the walls to your liking. You do most of your building in the driveway, so you've become accustomed to the people living on your street, waving at them as they pass or call out a greeting. But there's one individual everyone seems to steer clear of or avoid eye contact with, and that's your next door neighbor who rides a motorcycle and proudly wears a Sons of Anarchy kutte.
You had first seen the intimidating, bald man when he showed up a couple days after you moved in. You'd looked up when you heard the rumblings of engines and watched two motorcycles pull into the driveway next door. You paused hammering for a moment, nodded at the two men who took a moment to stare back, and then went back to work.
Over the next few days, men came and went from next door. And each time, they were intrigued watching you work. But eventually your bed frame was finished and you had to situate it in your bedroom. Maneuvering the mattress was no easy feat, but you were not about to ask for help, and it didn't take you long to finally finish furnishing your home to your liking.
As busy as you've been, you haven't really had the time to eat a home cooked meal. So after everything, you took a trip to the grocery store and bought hundreds of dollars of food and drink to stock your kitchen with.
The air is finally cool and crisp, so all the windows to your home are wide open. You'd been feeling a little restless, so you opted to cook a meal that would keep you busy. Enchiladas, rice, and beans is one of your favorite meals, so after making sure you have everything, you put a pot of beans to cook. They have to cook for a few hours, so while that's going on you get online to check in with your family.
When the beans are done, you get started on browning hamburger meat. Setting a majority of the meat aside, you use only a bit for the enchilada sauce. You pour in water, flour, spices, and some canned chili until it's to your liking, and then heat up some corn tortillas before you start rolling the enchiladas. After they're in a pan that holds far too many for only you, you pour the enchilada sauce on top before shredding some cheese atop of it. Once that's in the oven, you get started on a pan of rice.
It's when the rice is boiling that your doorbell rings. A little tired and more than a little hungry, you grab up your beer after turning off the rice, and take a swig of it on your way to the door. Since the door is wide open, you can easily see who's standing just on the other side of the screen door. It's one of the Sons, one of the only two with brown skin that you've seen so far. But this isn't the intimidating bald one, this is the one with a shaved mohawk down the center of his head and a killer smile.
You arch an eyebrow at him as he tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and you take another swig of beer as you lean against the door jamb. "Yes?"
The corner of his eyes crinkle as his smile widens. "Hi. Uh, me and my boys are chilling next door and we couldn't help but smell whatever it is you're eating. You mind sharing the name of the place where you picked up your food from so we can go get some too? Smells really good."
Your lips twitch. "Who said I picked anything up?"
"You cooking?" His eyes widen. "Bullshit."
You huff a laugh and nod. "YN."
"Juice."
"Mhmm." You push the door open just enough so you can lean out and peer next door, catching sight of two men sitting sideways on the seats of their bike. "Just you three?"
"Yeah."
You hum again and then back into your home as the screen door shuts quietly. "I've been watching you guys come and go, nodding cordially when our gazes clash," you say. "If you're willing to leave your shoes by the front door, you're more than welcome to pull up a seat at the table."
"Forreal?"
"Sure." You shrug. "I never learned how to cook for one, so I might have made an entire tray of enchiladas that will most likely go to waste if someone else doesn't eat them."
"Oh hell yeah." Juice turns, cupping his hands around his mouth as he says, "Yo! Free meal! Get over here!"
You watch as one man eagerly gets off his bike, whooping in delight of free food. The other, the one you believe actually lives next door, casually gets up at a leisurely pace. You push open the screen door as they're stomping up your porch steps, and Juice introduces you to Tig and Happy. You do your best not to smile because Happy does not look quite so happy, but he grunts a greeting when you tell them your name.
As Juice steps into your home, he's quick to kick off his shoes and tell his boys to do the same. They do and then you lead the way to the kitchen, pointing at your table. "Siéntate."
"Ohhh. A Spanish lady," Tig muses as Juice translates for him to sit down as you instructed. When you glance at him, his wild-crazed gaze makes you snort. "I like 'em a little spicy."
"And I like 'em less talkative." Happy and Juice both snort, and Tig beams at your sassy retort. "Beer or soda?"
Tig and Happy take beers, and Juice takes a soda. You serve them each their own plate of three enchiladas, a scoop of rice, and a scoop of beans. You serve yourself last with a glass of water, and finally take a seat to dig into all your hard work.
"Goddamn," Tig grumbles after his first bite of everything. "This is some Mexican restaurant level shit here."
You grin as you eat at your own pace, feeling content at watching three grown men finding your cooking delicious.
"So what's your story?" Juice asks. "In all the times I've come around, it's just you here."
"That's because it is just me here."
"Why Charming?"
You take a moment to swallow your food, washing it all down with a sip of water as you lean back in your chair. Then glancing between each man and the patches on their kuttes, you ask, "Do you want the real story or the story I'm feeding anyone who asks in polite small talk when they see a new face in the store?"
All three men slow their eating, their gazes sliding up to you in surprise.
"What's the story you tellin' the locals?" Tig asks.
Placing a hand over your heart and changing your voice so you sound like a southern belle, you say, "Just that I just left a very nasty relationship and my family thought I deserved a fresh start away from the man who dared lift a fist in my direction."
Tig snorts. "And the real story?"
You chuckle as your voice goes back to normal. "My family thought I needed to calm my inner demons, so they banished me to Charming. Joke's on them, I've made peace with my demons. It's not my fault people keep pissing me off."
Tig and Juice laugh as Happy smirks at you.
"What'd you do to earn banishment?" Juice wonders.
You shrug. "I wasn't joking about the nasty relationship. I just leave out the small detail that once I was out of the hospital, I went crawling back to my dickhead of an ex-fiancé and plotted my revenge."
"Crazy and you can cook. Marry me," Tig says.
You shake your head at him, eating a bit more before finishing the story. "I was raised to take no shit from anyone. So after he put me in the hospital, I made him believe all was well. Then one night, when he least suspected it, I slipped him a little something so he was conscious, but paralyzed, and set fire to his house."
The three men freeze, but you continue eating as if it was no big deal.
"Did you- did you kill him?" Juice warily asks.
"Unfortunately, no." You pout and then laugh at their awed expressions. "He had nosy neighbors so they were able to get the firetrucks there as soon as they smelled smoke. But when my family found out, they said I was sloppy, so I got shipped out here."
"Yoo.. what the fuck?" A moment of quiet ensues and then Juice is laughing. "That has to be the craziest shit I've heard in a while."
"I highly doubt that." Your gaze drops to the patch on his kutte. "I'm sure you've heard, seen, or taken part of some pretty crazy shit." When you meet his gaze again, you smirk. "Am I wrong?"
Juice grins and then looks at Happy. "Your neighbor is cool as shit. I'm kind of jealous." The air of amusement lingers as everyone continues to eat. "So what do you do for work?"
"I do some IT stuff for my family." You shrug. "I can work from anywhere, so I guess I'll still be doing that. What about you boys? What do you do other than ride?"
"We work at Teller Automotive," Tig says. "Only car garage in town."
"Really? Do you guys have any openings this week? I need my oil changed."
"Sure. We'll leave a number before we leave."
The rest of dinner is spent with the men telling you what there is to do in Charming and asking how long you plan on staying. You're not really sure, but if you end up liking Charming then you have no issues setting down roots. And then when dinner is done and you've seemed to exhaust all the small talk topics, you plate up the leftovers and send the men on their way.
Over the next couple of weeks, you befriend your neighbor. You take your vehicle into Teller Automotive and Happy takes it upon himself to take care of it for you. Tig and Juice had kept you company, and introduced you to a few of their other brothers when they took interest in their new friend. You were invited to one of their parties and, after some pressuring, you went. Nothing shocked you, not even a few members of the club getting head in plain sight, but Happy apparently shocked everyone else by gluing himself to your side. According to the club President, Happy was normally found in the ring outside or fucking his way through croweaters, but that night he made sure that no one bothered you.
Then more often than not, Happy reaped the benefits of your cooking and appeared for dinner before taking leftovers home for lunch.
In such a short period of time, you grow accustomed to the stern biker's company.
One morning, you're startled awake by the doorbell ringing and a fist pounding on the door. You sit up and scoot out of bed, hurrying towards your front door in a groggy, yet panicked state. But before you pull the door open, you peer out one of the thin windows on one side of your door. It takes a moment for you to realize it's Happy and that the sky behind him is still dark.
Unlocking the door, you pull it open. "What the fuck, Hap? What's going on?"
With a duffel bag hanging off his shoulder, Happy looks you up and down. "You always answer the door like this or am I just special?"
You freeze and then glance down, rolling your eyes when you remember you went to sleep in a gray wife beater, that makes it very obvious you're not wearing a bra, and a pair of hipster underwear. "Neither. You're lucky."
"Sure." You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks. "I forgot the bills were due and everything got shut off. Can I crash here until I get it sorted?"
Without missing a beat, you say, "Yeah," and step back from the door, opening it wider. "Shoes off. You know where the bathroom is and I'm pretty sure you can find the guest bedroom." You yawn and lock the door behind your friend. "What time is it?"
"Little after five."
"Happy," you whine. "S'too fuckin' early. M'going back to bed." As you pad back to your room, you don't hear any footsteps behind you. "Stop staring at my ass!"
"Can't help it. Might start dropping by early now."
"Do it and die, Lowman." Stopping and turning, you point an accusatory finger at him. "Do not come in between me and my bed. I will murder you."
His lips twitch. "Worth it."
. .
. .
It takes less than a week for Happy to get his power and water turned back on, and then he's back at his house. Though there are times when he shows up for dinner, dropping off on your couch when he's too tired to walk back home. Normally you would mind, but Happy knew how to clean up after himself, so you didn't mind that it seemed he was practically half moved in.
One night, you get a call from your brother that they need you to come in and work on cracking the passwords on a few laptops they'd gotten their hands on. You agreed, but first you needed to arrange someone to look after your house.
The next afternoon, you show up to Teller Automotive. You find Happy on a smoke break and ask him for a favor. When you ask him if he can keep an eye on your house for two days, he seems surprised, even more so when you give him a copy of your house key. You tell him he can crash there and eat whatever food you have so long as he doesn't trash the place. He readily agrees.
And when you return two days later, you realize you should have specified that he could crash in the guest bedroom. Finding a nearly naked Happy in your bed isn't half bad, nor is the firmness of his ass when you smack a hand down on it to wake him up.
Immediately he jerks awake, twisting his body as he sits up, and pointing a gun right at your face. You laugh and lick the tip of the barrel while wiggling your eyebrows at him. "Wakey, wakey."
"You're a fuckin' pyscho," he grumbles, lowering his gun.
"Yeah, well duh. You should have had that figured out a long time ago." He rolls his eyes before turning to drop down face first back into your pillow, shoving his gun back under it. You grin. "Was there something wrong with the guest room you've been using?"
"No. I just didn't know how fuckin' massive your bed was. It looked lonely without a body in it."
"Mhmm. I'm sure." He grunts and you chuckle as you crawl out of the bed. "I'm gonna go pick up some breakfast from the diner. Want anything?"
"Anything and everything."
"Gotcha. I'll text you when I'm on my way back."
. .
. .
The dynamic between you and Happy ended up changing after that fateful morning. When he slept over, it was in your bed. You hadn't crossed the line past lingering touches or innuendos, but it was a given that he was the only person allowed in your bed. You didn't care for the croweaters at the parties his club put on every Friday night, but the two of you made a statement when he rolled up one night with you seated behind him.
The Sons nearly gaped as Happy amped up his protectiveness, pulling you between his parted thighs as he took a seat on a stool at the bar. Tig and Juice had walked over, and Happy perched you on his knee as you joked with his brothers. The croweaters didn't bother to hide their glares or sneers, but you merely smirked at their cattiness and took to scratching the back of Happy's head with your nails when you'd draped your arm around his shoulders.
"So, is this a thing?" Jax, the club president, had asked.
You shrugged and grinned. "We're friends."
"Friends don't stake claims."
"We're possessive friends."
Happy had snorted but didn't correct you.
From there on out, it was known that you were Happy's.
The Sons are relaxing at the clubhouse after a long day's work when blacked out Escalades and BMW's pull up. The atmosphere immediately goes from relaxed to tense, and the Sons flank their President when he walks out to the lot to see what the deal is.
Thug after thug exit the vehicles before opening the doors on two Escalades, ushering out four well-dressed men. None of them look like they'd be a person to fuck with, so Jax is extremely curious as to what the fuck is going on.
"Can I help you?" He asks, eyebrow arches as tattooed thugs flank the apparent important men.
"I hope you can." The one in charge reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a picture. "What do you know about this woman?"
When Jax is shown a picture, he mentally curses. It's Happy's neighbor and a friend to many Sons. He keeps his expression neutral, before shrugging. "Nothing. Should I?"
"She's my baby sister."
"Oh hell…"
"YN never misses check-in and she's missed two," the man explains. "It's come to my attention that she's made some connections to Happy Lowman, Juan Ortiz, and Tig Trager- all Sons of Anarchy. Do you understand why I'm here now?"
"Fuck, man, we didn't know. What can we do?"
"You can start by questioning your men to see if they'd heard from her."
At that, Tig steps forward. "I haven't seen or spoken with YN in a little over a week."
"What about Juan or Happy?"
Jax looks at his gathered men, frowning. "Where are Juice and Happy?" No one says anything, looking as confused as their President when they don't see their familiar faces. Then raising his voice, he asks, "Has anyone heard from Happy or Juice today?" Nothing. No one utters a peep. "What about yesterday?"
"Jax." Opie has his phone to ear, shaking his head. "Both are going to voicemail."
"Shit." Then turning around to face the slowly darkening expressions of YN's apparent brothers, Jax asks, "How can we help?"
. .
. .
When your eyes flutter open, every inch of your body is in pain.
"How the fuck does my hair hurt?" You groan. You try to sit up, but realize you're on your side, on dirt and hay, with your hands tied behind your back. "What the actual fuck?" Clearing your vision, you see that you're not alone. Happy and Juice are with you, but they're in chairs with their hands tied behind their backs and looking a little beat up.
"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty," Juice tiredly muses.
"What happened?" Maneuvering around some, you manage to sit up.
"Kidnapped," Happy says. "They injected us with some shit, but they gave you too much."
You grimace as you roll your neck. "Dicks." It's dim in the empty barn you're being kept in, but you can see sunlight through the cracks of the walls. There are stalls for animals on either side of you, all empty, and a table filled with various blades and weapons not too far away. Your aching arms are your main priority though, so you move into a crouch and wiggle your tied wrists under your butt. With a grunt, you fall backward and maneuver your hands until they're situated in front of you. "Ah. That's better."
"Get up and grab a blade so we can get the fuck outta here," Happy urges.
You do as you're told, mentally scoffing at the thought that these morons didn't think to bind your ankles. Unfortunately, you're not so lucky as someone had been watching from the shadows. So just as you're reaching for a blade, that someone jumps out at you and roughly pins you against the table.
Bent over with your arms above your head and someone pressed up right against you, you immediately start thrashing and cussing out whoever it is. Happy and Juice shout, and start wriggling in their own seats when a hand then pins you to the table by the back of your neck.
"So close, princesa." A man tuts and you jerk in his hold, but still he persists. Laughter causes you to look up, watching as another two men step out from behind Happy and Juice. "Is that anyway to talk to your host?"
"Fuck. Off."
"Oh, I will." Just then, a hand grips your waist and squeezes, and you freeze. "Just not yet. I have some questions for you."
"Don't you fucking touch her."
When you glance up at Happy, there's a look on his face that you've never seen before. You know what he does for the Sons, but you'd never seen that particular dark look or glint in his eyes, and for a moment it steals your breath away. Then you remember that look isn't meant for you, and you squirm a little as the man behind you laughingly presses his pelvis into your ass. "Or what?"
Juice answers, "Or we'll fucking kill you."
That causes all three men to laugh some more.
"Doubtful. But thanks for the laugh." Then the man behind you focuses on you once again. "Besides, my business isn't with you, but with the princesa de la mafia."
You tense. "I don't know anything."
"Aw. Of course, you don't," the man coos. "I would hope that your brothers are smart enough to never let a woman in on their secrets. But then again, you are the baby sister of one of the most dangerous mafias in the United States. I'm pretty sure you know something that I can use to hurt those brothers of yours."
You manage to angle your head just enough so you can make eye contact with Happy. He meets your stare, and you see it subtly soften, but then he's glaring at the man holding you once more. "I won't sell out my brothers."
"No?" The man releases your neck, only to trail his fingers down from your ribs to hips. "I don't want to mess up such a pretty face, but you do know there are other ways to break you and get you to talk, right?"
And then before you can answer, he's grabbing the back hem of your shirt and ripping it down the middle.
You yelp just as Happy shouts, "You motherfucker!", and squirm to get away. Across from you, Happy and Juice are pummeled a few times until they stop trying to break the chairs they're bound to.
The man rubs a hand up and down your back, fiddling with your bra strap, but never unsnapping it. You feel gross, but it's only when the guy reaches around to fiddle with the button on your jeans does red cloud your vision.
"Hey, Hap?" You manage to meet Happy's livid gaze. "Remember when I spoke about my demons?"
"Yeah."
"They desperately wanna come out to play."
"Shut the fuck up, you whore!" The man slaps you across the back of your head and you grit your teeth, biding your time.
Happy slowly smirks. "Then let them out to play, baby."
The moment the button on your jeans is opened, you scream at a pitch that startles every man in the room. Then pushing up as much as you can, you headbutt the man behind you. As he swears, you reach for the first handle you see and are pleasantly surprised to find a small machete. Then without even thinking, you whirl around and swing the blade, catching your would-be abuser in the neck with the blade.
Blood sprays as you immediately tug the blade free, leaving the man to try and cover his wound as he splutters on his own life force. From the corner of your eye, you see someone running at you, but another swing of the machete finds a home in the second man's face.
As the man falls back with a scream unlike anything you've ever heard, he takes the machete with him. Happy and Juice shout at you, and it's then you remember the third. He's running at you, a small blade in hand, and you reach for the nearest weapon. It's a metal bat and just as you rear back to swing, he swings first. The blade makes contact with your bicep, slicing it open, but you only feel the sting of it after you swing.
The bat clips the man in the jaw, stunning him. As he stumbles back, you advance. He sloppily swipes at you again, but you dodge it. The second hit with the bat hits true, catching him in the temple.
The man falls and you're quick to stand over him, bringing the bat down a third time.
The bat connecting for a fourth time makes Juice cringe, but Happy proudly watches on.
Thwack.
Thwack. A scream.
Crack!
"Shit. I think that was his skull," Juice mutters.
YN screams as she continues to wail on the man with her bat, caving his skull further and further in, to the point there's now a puddle of blood beneath his head and splattering with every pull back.
The barn doors open, and Happy and Juice tense when armed men start to file in, but they exhale with relief when they see Jax, Tig, Chibs, and Opie in the mix. All the unfamiliar men take in the scene with an air of indifference, but it's the expressions of the Sons that almost make Happy laugh out loud. They'd only known YN to laugh, feed them, or threaten the croweaters with violence. None of them, with the exception of himself, Juice, and Tig, knew the violence she was capable of.
"Uh, a little help?" Juice calls out. "My arms are killing me over here."
Tig rushes over, pulling out a blade to cut his brothers free. "What the fuck happened?"
"One of them threatened to rape her and she just lost her shit."
Juice is cut free first, and he immediately stands, rubbing his raw wrists. As Jax checks in with him, Happy is cut free.
"Boss, should we stop this?" Someone asks.
Happy looks over in time to see a guy in a suit grimace when blood is flung onto his pristine boots. "Do you want to get in the middle of that? You know how YN is. Let's just let her run out of steam."
As the guy steps back in line with a nod of agreement, Happy huffs and stands. He stalks over to YN until he's behind her. Then when she raises the bat high above her head, Happy lunges. He manages to grip the bat where it isn't slick and pulls it from YN's grasp.
Still very much livid, especially now that your weapon's been ripped from you, you whirl around to start screaming expletives and pummel whoever it is with your bound fists. Instead, arms are wrapped around you, keeping your arms stuck between your chest and another, and there's a gruff voice in your ear saying, "It's over. It's over, baby. The cavalry's here. You can stop now."
It takes a long minute for the voice to infiltrate the fog of rage, and then a moment to realize who's speaking.
When your struggles cease, Happy leans back a little to look down at you, but with his arms still wrapped around you. "You back?"
"Y-Yeah. M'sorry."
Happy grunts and leans his face closer to yours, and for a moment you think he's about to kiss you. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours as his eyes close, and he exhales with relief. "Don't be. That was hot as fuck."
You huff a quiet laugh as a bout of silence ensues, but then one of your brothers decides to ruin it.
"Hey, Lowman, we'll give you a million dollars if you give her your last name and take her off our hands."
You jerk in Happy's hold, turning to glare at all your smirking brothers. "Fuck off!" Laughter ensues at your disgruntled expression before Juice fills them in on what happened, and then Happy is tugging on your bound wrists so you look back at him before finally cutting you free. "Thank you."
One hand grasps the hair at the back of your head, gripping a little tight as he holds you in place so he can press a kiss to your forehead. "Let's get you home. You're covered in blood, and I need to take a look at your arm."
Glancing at your arm, you shrug. It stings, yeah, but it doesn't seem deep enough. And then just as you go to take a step, Happy swoops you up into a bridal carry.
It's then you notice that you, Happy, and Juice are all barefoot, and it's Juice who answers your unasked question. "You sleep like the dead, girl. Happy and I heard them enter the house, but they still managed to get the drop on us."
"I'm getting you a goddamn dog," Happy grumbles in response.
"Only if you clean up after it." He grunts and you grin. If he wanted a guard dog for you, then he was cleaning up any messes.
Outside the barn, suggestions are made about where to go now. Jax suggests the clubhouse, but at the wrinkling of your nose, Happy says you'll be going home. Your brothers mention not everyone can go because that many vehicles will draw attention, so Jax suggests sending your brothers' men back to the club with Opie and Chibs. They agree, and then you're loaded up into an Escalade with your brothers and Happy.
When you get to your house, Tig mentions that they had cleaned up and straightened your furniture after they figured out what had happened. You thank him and let Happy carry you to your bathroom while Juice takes the guest bathroom.
As Happy sets you on the counter, you watch as he gets the first aid kit from beneath your sinks. "They're gonna talk."
"Let them. The club already thinks we're fuckin'."
You snort. "Please. They should know by now that I'd never settle for a relationship where the guy gets to fuck around when he's on the road." Happy freezes with the antiseptic spray bottle in his hand before shaking himself free of thought and spritzing your arm where you were cut.
"Is that why you haven't given me the go-ahead to slip between your thighs?"
You smile at his blunt question and then wince when he wipes your arm clean. "Pretty much. I'm not a fan of my partner sticking his dick or tongue in some rando pussy, then coming home and doing the same to me." Happy grunts and you arch an eyebrow at him. "Would you be okay with me visiting my brothers and sucking someone's dick before coming home to you?"
"Fuck no."
"Exactly." You grin triumphantly. "So, unless you plan to stop dicking down croweaters or sweetbutts, the most you'll get out of me is some cuddling."
Stepping back, Happy tosses the used gauze pads into the trashcan and then reaches into your shower stall to turn on the water. Then looking at you, he demands, "Strip."
"If I fully strip, there's no going back. You're mine and mine alone." You hop off the counter, slipping off your ruined shirt without batting an eye. "I was calm and collected at your parties before because we're friends, but that all changes after this. I won't take it easy on any woman touching what's mine."
Happy smirks as he eyes you in your bra and jeans, and then strips off his shirt. "Good."
You've seen the man shirtless only a handful of times, but seeing his ink never fails to give you pause. You reach out for the first time, tracing the snake tattoo that takes up a majority of his chest and upper abdomen, before you trace the various happy faces on the side of his waist. You feel his abdominal muscles twitch and then between one heartbeat and the next, Happy's crowding you against the sink counter and angling your head up.
His kiss is as aggressive as you figured it'd be, his tongue sliding against yours and teeth digging into your bottom lip. You give as good as you get, nails digging into either side of Happy's waist as you kiss him. Then when the need for air arises, you pull back and try to catch your breath. "Well okay then."
Moving out from Happy's reach, you strip, uncaring of your nudity and then step into the steaming shower. Happy isn't too far behind you, but you're not too interested in seeing him fully naked as you are cleansing a stranger's blood from your body. Standing under the waterfall, you watch as the shower floor turns red. Happy presses in close behind you so he's under the water as well, and you straighten up before leaning your head back onto his shoulder, smiling softly at his hardness that presses against your ass.
"No funny business, Lowman. At least not until we've eaten a fuck ton and slept for a day or two."
He grunts. "Agreed."
You immediately start washing your hair, and you're surprised when Happy takes it upon himself to lather up some soap on your bath pouf to wash your body. For the most part he behaves himself, but when his thumb oh so casually brushes over your nipples, you slap his thigh and pay him back when it's your turn to wash him. He grunts when you take his dick in hand and thrusts into your soapy palm, but you quickly release him to finish washing his body.
"Fuckin' tease."
"You started it."
You get out of the shower first, smirking as Happy tells you he'll be out in a moment. You know exactly what that moment's going to entail since his hand is already stroking his cock before you can even find a towel.
"You gonna want something to eat?"
"Send Tig to get burgers and fries."
"Alright."
Back in your room, you can hear a muttered conversation from somewhere in your house. Clutching the towel around your body, you stick your head out your door. "Tig!"
"What?"
"Happy said to go get us some burgers, fries, and Cokes!"
"Do I look like a fuckin' maid?!" Tig appears in the hall, hands on his hips.
You grin at him. "No, but I do have a maid's costume. Wanna try it on?" Tig gapes and you laugh at his expression. "Come on, Tig. Please? You can grab some cash from the junk drawer."
"Fine. But only because I know Hap will murder me if I don't, not because I'm picturing you in a teeny tiny maid's outfit."
"Sure, buddy. Thank you!"
Tig grumbles as he turns to march out of your house and then you worry about getting dressed. You dress in nothing but a sports bra and boy short underwear, and then with a reluctant sigh you head to the front. Everyone's in your kitchen, sitting around your table, and your brothers groan when they see how little you're wearing.
"Oh, shut up. You've seen me in clothes like this before."
"In tights, not underwear," one brother grumbles.
"Just be glad they're boy shorts and not a g-string."
All your brothers groan yet again whereas the Sons find the interaction amusing. You take a seat at the table, grimacing a little and touching at your raw wrists.
"Let me get that for you," Juice says. He leaves to, no doubt, grab the first aid kit from the bathroom. Then taking a seat next to you, he asks, "Did Hap disinfect your arm?"
"Yeah. Just spritz it again and wrap it. It'll be fine."
As soon as Juice gets to work, Happy enters the kitchen in nothing but a pair of jeans hanging off his hips.
"Jesus," one of your brother's mumbles. "Are people suddenly allergic to clothes around here?"
You grin as Jax arches an eyebrow at his friend. "You have clothes here?" Happy nods and sits, and you quickly introduce him to your brothers while Jax looks at Juice to say, "You seem to know your way around this place too."
"It's because they practically live here when they're not at the clubhouse," you say. "Hap's moved his shit in my room, and Tig and Juice have slowly taken over my guest room." Then glancing at your brothers as if you didn't just drop somewhat of a bombshell on Jax, you ask, "So what the hell happened?"
Juice taps above one of your raw wrists and you situate them so he can disinfect them.
Your eldest brother meets your gaze. "There's a new family in town- Jimenez. They're trying to make a name for themselves and thought they could intimidate us." You scoff as your other brother's chuckle. "When they didn't get the reaction they were looking for, they came up with the bright idea to target the weak link. They thought they had the perfect candidate when they found out we had a baby sister."
"Joke's on them, you're fuckin' psycho," another brother muses.
"I'm not-"
"We literally walked in on you bashing a guy's head in."
"And let's not forget the whole reason you're in Charming is because you tried to burn down your ex's house while he was still inside."
"Or that one time you wrecked your car into that other girl's car all because she broke your friend's heart."
"That cunt cheated on him. She deserved every bit of karma I dished out."
Jax snorts, shaking his head. "Christ. You and Hap are gonna be a pain in my ass."
"You know it."
Tig shows up just after Juice is finished with your wrists. Juice then dishes out the food to you, Happy, and himself, and you get up to grab drinks from the fridge. As you settle back down, Jax and your brothers watch in surprise at how the three of you go to town on your provided meals.
"So, what exactly does one do as a mafia princess?" Jax wonders.
Chewing the food in your mouth, you only answer him after taking a drink of your soda. "I'm the family hacker. If they need a computer hacked into to gather information or scrub information, I get called in."
"So, in other words, you're female Juice," Tig says.
You laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I am." Juice grins and you reach over to fist bump him.
You continue eating as Jax speaks with your brothers, listening as this small portion of the Sons of Anarchy are filled in about what business your family gets up to. When you're finished eating, you stand and start gathering up the trash to toss. While you're up, you grab yourself a glass of water and some Ibuprofen. Then after downing four pills, you head back to reclaim your seat at the table, only for Happy to gently grab you by the arm and tug you down onto his thigh.
Your brothers don't care about your new chair, but Jax, Juice, and Tig can't help but raise an eyebrow.
"So, is this a thing?" Jax wonders, gesturing between you and Happy.
As you drape an arm behind Happy's shoulders to settle more against him, you smirk. "What's the matter, Teller? Scared?"
He huffs and then stares at Happy, but the man beneath you merely says, "Gonna start drawing up a crow. Does that answer your question?"
The kitchen goes eerily quiet and then…
"Holy shit. Hap's actually gonna take a woman," Juice says in awe.
"This is a momentous occasion. We gotta throw a rager." The glint in Tig's eyes has you narrowing your own eyes at him.
"You just wanna see a girl fight. Don't you?"
"Hap's been possessive of you since you first showed up to the clubhouse, but now that you're staking a claim, the thought might have crossed my mind."
"Are you sure you wanna see that?" One of your brother muses. "YN might traumatize a few poor souls."
Tig smiles. "I look forward to it."
You roll your eyes at Tig's excitement about possibly seeing you fight and your brothers chuckle. The Sons really had no idea what they were in for when someone tested your patience.
Standing, you keep a hand on Happy's shoulder as you say, "Well as much as I love, like, and appreciate all of you, you need to go. I'm exhausted and I still need to sleep off whatever I was drugged with."
Jax grins. "Is that code for us to get the hell out so you can bang Happy's brains out?"
Snorting, you shake your head as your brothers all grimace. "No. I'm seriously exhausted. The fucking will come later after we're well rested. I have a feeling I'm gonna need loads of energy for Hap."
Your brothers all make noises of disgust as they stand, and you take a moment to hug and kiss each of their cheeks on their way out. You promise to call when you're feeling better and then you're ushering the Sons out as well.
Locking up after everyone has left, you head to your room where you find Happy stripping off his jeans. He's in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs as he pulls your blanket back before sliding under and you pad over to do the same. You meet him in the middle, laying on your side as you drape one arm over his abdomen. With your head on his arm, you snuggle closer and Happy reaches for your leg to have it draped over his thigh so you're as close as can be without actually laying on top of him.
"Were you serious? About the crow?" You ask right before you drift off.
"Does that freak you out?"
"Not really. But if I get your mark, you're getting mine."
Happy huffs. "And just what is your mark?"
"My lips and name." You run your hand across his abdomen before walking your fingers down to one of the few empty patches of skin, below his belly button and right beneath where the snake's tail curls. "Right here."
"Above my dick, you mean?"
"Mhmm."
Happy grunts and then squeezes you a little tighter to him. "We'll see, princess. Now get some sleep."
#happy lowman imagine#happy lowman x reader#happy imagine#happy x reader#sons of anarchy imagine#soa imagine#happy lowman#juice ortiz#tig trager#jax teller#dark romance
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hello!! since you did them for classic, fell, and swap, can I request SFW and NSFW headcanons for horrortale too?
Thanks for requests!! These are a tad shorter but I wanted to post something even though I'm lacking motivation, seasonal depression is hitting hard this year folks anyways hope you enjoy I just did Axe this time I'll get around to the papyri eventually.
🪓Sfw🪓:
•He has very animalistic tendencies. Growling, purring, chuffing. Marking you and things with his scent and having you mark his things with your scent for him. He likes to sunbathe too, really likes the feeling of the sun warming his bones.
•Carries around your favorite snacks. He always has snacks on him but he makes sure to stay stocked up on your favorite and hands them out generously if he thinks you need to eat.
•A big cuddler physical touch helps ground him to the surrounding area if he's comfortable with the person so he likes touching you in some form but cuddling is his favorite. Specifically you in his lap while he wraps around you.
•Quality time is also a big thing he really just enjoys being in your presence. He can lurk behind you while you do whatever you need to do and he'll try his best to help if needed but he may not be the best help.
•Likes to hold your hand while out in public, so he doesn't wander off which he's prone to do and because of the earlier mentioned reason of grounding him. You help him alot with staying calm.
•He writes about you quite often. He has his own journals dedicated specifically to you and writes down everything he doesn't want to forget which is well everything he wants to remember all of you.
•Dates with him are pretty much at home or out in nature. Somewhere you guys won't be bothered by a lot of people basically. He just doesn't like crowded areas and well people stare at him and it makes him uncomfortable. He'll try and plan some cutesy dates and he'll leave reminders for himself and you around the house in sticky notes about them.
🍋NSFW🍋:
•Breeding kink. He never thought he'd have the chance to have children and when something is taken away you realize how badly you want it. So he has a big breeding kink.
•Size kink, he's a big boy and he likes seeing the difference in him and his partner. He looms over practically everyone so any sized partner really does it for him. He does enjoy plush partners because he likes having that softness to grab onto and it means they have access to food often.
•His ecto body is pudgy and his cock is 7.2 inches (big boy ) and girthy. In femme form he's still pretty chubby and has an outtie pussy and G cup tits the biggest out of the Sanses.
•His favorite position is doggy style or the mating press as they're both optimal for breeding and he enjoys the closeness. He's gotta be careful with his size though.
•He normally tops and is a gentle sometimes teasing Dom (he's still sans) because of his size and he doesn't want to really hurt you. Content to lay back and let you do all the work though as well he likes watching you stuff yourself full of him.
•Hematolagnia, or a blood kink, he likes the taste, the sight, the smell. He just likes blood. Of course this was gained over enduring his underground but people cope in different ways and his was developing a kink. He wouldn't hurt you unless you're into that and then he's still hesitant to go past some harsh biting and scratching. If you have periods period sex is a great way to compromise on his kink with him and he really enjoys it.
#horrortale sans x reader#undertale fandom#undertale fanfiction#sans x reader#sans x you#horrortale au#horrortale sans#blood kink#general headcanons#undertale headcanons#my headcanons#sans headcanons
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— car sex vol. 2 | pjm
prompt: car sex w/ jimin (again)
⸝⸝ pairing: bf!jimin x fem!reader
⸝⸝ warnings: bj, car sex, bf jimin, accidental creampies, soft kisses, smut
⸝⸝ word count: 1.7k
⸝⸝ note: i didn’t mean to be gone for literally so long wtf 😭 but im back now! i’m going to be working on the requests people sent me :) but feel free to send more if you have ideas! i wanted to get this done before answering requests since i’ve been gone for almost 2 weeks now.
i’m still getting adjusted to posting my writings so i still feel hesitant to be extremely nsfw on here but a lot of the requests are really good so in my next ffs i’ll start adding dialogue during smut scenes! i hope u enjoyed this one though 🙂
nsfw, 18+, minors dni
-
tiny raindrops tap against the window of the car as it rains outside. jimin hums in boredom , his fingers hitting against the driving wheel , following the rhythm of his hums. you sit in the passenger seat , staring out of the window. the city lights are blurred by the raindrops , but you continue to stare out anyway. your jeans felt sticky against your skin as they were soaked with rain water. just a few minutes prior did you have to hurry and run to the car in order to avoid getting soaked even more.
you and jimin were on the way to meet up with your other friends a few cities over. the road trip was a drag , and felt like it would go on forever. unexpectedly , jimin places a cold hand on your thigh , making you shiver. he notices and takes his hand off , looking at you for a split second and giving you a soft reassuring smile.
you weren’t sure that you’d want to attend this get together with your friends. but after much consideration and begging from jimin , you eventually gave in. he was always trying to get you out of your comfort zone , which was one of the things you liked about him. you truly believed that had you not met him , you’d probably be locked in your apartment and bored out of your mind.
the cold AC air hits against your soaked jeans , making you even more cold now. you shut off the AC and begin slipping off your pants. jimin looks over with a confused expression on his face. “that gas station stop got my pants wet. can you reach the bag from the seat behind you?” you ask him. he comes to a stop at a red light and turns his body around to attempt to reach the bag. he grabs its handles with his fingers , but the bag slips through and falls onto the ground. “goddamnit” he says , turning back around. “i’ll pull over.”
when the light turns green , he pulls over to a nearby street , putting the car in park. you get out of the car and walk to the other side where jimin sat , looking in the side mirrors and watching you. you open the door and bend over into the car , reaching for the bag. you quickly rummage through it for a pair of dry shorts , when you hear jimin get out of the car and close the door.
you feel a loud smack against your butt and giggle. “get back in the car , you’ll get wet!” you tell him , throwing the shorts into your seat. “hand me a towel then.” jimin says. “you got out of the car for that?” you shake your head , grabbing a towel and tossing it to him. he hops back into the car and you do the same. you also slide off your panties as they’re now soaked too and put on the shorts. “stop getting undressed in front of me.” jimin says , patting your thighs.
“are you twelve? seeing a girl naked scares you? afraid you’ll get cooties?” you say , throwing your head back in laughter. “that’s not why.” jimin says grinning. you roll your eyes , knowing what he’s implying. “how about you just focus on getting us to mirages house.” you point ahead at the road. “what’re you going to do?” jimin says suggestively. “me? im going to stare out of the window and listen to my podcast.” you wave your phone by the side of his face , reclining your seat.
“sometimes i wonder how someone can be as dorky as you.” he says. you furrow your eyebrow. “you shouldn��t be talking.” “i’m not dorky.” jimin protests. “right.” you scoff. he looks over at you. “what does that mean?”
you turn to face him , “you literally giggle like a school girl compliments you. plus , don’t you remember how red you’d get when i’d kiss you when we first got together? you’re a dork. i rest my case.” you turn on your phone. “i’m not , i’m just charming.”
you look at him , playfully disgusted. “even you know that’s a lie.” “what?!” he reaches over tickling you between your thighs. you feel ticklish and begin to laugh. “i take it back! you’re so annoying!” you grab onto his wrist. “thank you.” he grins mischievously , not taking his eyes off of the road.
—
about an hour later , you feel drowsy and wanted nothing more than to take a quick nap. as you’re almost asleep , you feel the car stop. jimin puts the car in park and reclines the seat. he sees you open your eyes. “i’m taking a quick eye break. we’ll be back on the road in like 15 minutes.” he says reassuringly.
you nod , closing your eyes once again. suddenly , he whispers your name. “hm?” you say tiredly. “i’ve been holding it all day.”
you laugh. “we’re parked , there’s trees all around us. you do the math.” “i don’t have to pee.” you quickly realize what he means and look down at his pants. the car is dark , but you can tell he’s hard. you almost want to laugh at the sudden shift of energy. you stretch rubbing your eyes and rubbing his thigh. “you’re unbelievable.” you say. “i’m not saying you have to do anything.” he says , becoming embarrassed.
you smile , noticing his embarrassment. you begin to rub his pants , watching as he tenses up. he slowly pulls down his pants and boxers , his hard cock springing up. you take off the shorts you had just put on and somehow climb into the drivers seat. an accidental honk goes off , causing you both to laugh quietly. you stuff your face into his neck , adjusting yourself into him. he holds onto your hips as you slowly slide down on his cock.
the rain seems more violent now , as cars swish past the car at a high speed , unaware of what you were doing in the car. you sit still for a moment , afraid of moving. you hold jimin close to you , kissing his neck softly. he wraps himself around you , slowly rubbing your back from underneath your shirt. you didn’t really have sexual inter course as often until you got with jimin , and your body was still getting used to it.
jimin slowly grinds you on him , taking things slow. you follow his motion , sitting up and resting your elbow on the driving wheel. jimin grazes your stomach with his hands. you feel uncomfortable , not liking the awkward position. jimin taps your sides , motioning for you to get up. you crawl back into the passenger seat , moving your hair out of your face. you get on the seat , propping yourself up with your knees before bending forward. you grab his cock and stuff it into your mouth.
he softly exhales and places his cold hand on the back of your neck. your head bobs up and down as you suck him off. this part of him feels warm compared to the rest of his body. jimin reaches over and rubs your butt softly , before giving it a harsh smack. you jolt forward at the sudden sting and he does it again and again until he’s satisfied. he grabs onto your neck and takes his cock out of your mouth.
you begin to pump him and his chest becomes heavier as his breathes become deeper and huskier. he slightly bends over , kissing the top of your head as you look at him lovingly. he grabs onto your wrist and reclines the seat even further , patting his thigh.
you crawl back into his lap once again. this time , he easily slides into you. he lifts his legs up , beginning to fuck you , holding onto your body. you take off your shirt and toss it aside , revealing your breasts. your nipples are hard and cold. jimin grabs onto your left breast , licking it in circular motions , not slowing down.
your eyes are half lidded , enjoying the feeling of being fucked. you grab onto the head rest behind jimin’s head as you use it to fuck your self onto jimin. he stops , letting you take control. he holds onto the bottoms of your thighs , moaning and cursing under his breath. you beg him to go faster , not wanting him to stop.
sticky sounds can be heard beneath you as your cream begins to coat his cock. he looks up at you , pleasure in his eyes. he holds onto you , stopping for a moment in fear of accidentally cumming inside of you. you smile , wrapping your arms around his neck and slowly grinding on him , rotating your hips. this motion makes him curse as he digs his nails into your hips. you grab his wrist , the pain of his nails in your skin gives you a burning feeling.
without warning , jimin lets out a load moan , his eyes fluttering open as his body goes still. you giggle , feeling as he fills you up. he curses , running his hand through his hair , out of breath. he grabs into your butt , lifting you up and sliding out of you carefully. you hold onto his neck , hovered above his lap , as you feel his cum slide out of you.
you get back into the passenger seat , naked and out of breath. jimin pulls up his pants and starts the car back up , ignoring the cum on the seat. his breath is heavy and his face shows a tired expression. you sit back on the seat , not moving to put your clothes back on. you slowly rub on your stomach , your legs closed tightly , looking out of the window at the darkness and rainy night.
written by swanlakebaby™
#bts#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts smut#bts x reader#kpop#park jimin#bts jimin#jimin x reader#jiminie#reader x jimin#jiminsmut#jiminbts#jimin bts#jimin smut#jimin#bts reactions#smut bts#fanfic bts#bts army#smut
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need to share my james potter thoughts because it an obsession at this point.james potter has invested my brain! he’s just so ugh
I know for a fact, James potter has no sense of space.James potter is constantly touching you & not aware of how much pda he shows. he is aways touching you, leaving you a blushing mess. constantly reaching under your shirt tracing patterns into you skin. his hands always end up on your boobs. his hands will start resting in your thighs but will always slide further up. he doesn’t do any of this on purpose, really. he doesn’t realize he is doing it till you’re gently slapping his hand away. he always pouts each time you remind him you’re in public. By the fifth time he announces you two are leaving & heading home where he can touch you as much as he likes.
omg literally. he just doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself </33
fem!afab!reader 0.6k words
James feels accustomed to touch you. After all, you are his girlfriend. What’s more, you’re beautiful, and you’ve got a lovely body that James can’t resist touching whenever he can. Asking James to not be touching you at all times is like asking him not to breathe. He’d die if he couldn’t touch you.
Right now he’s got you in his lap, a knee between your thighs and your back to his front. It’s only been about six seconds since you sat down and James has already got his hands up your shirt.
“Hi, honey,” he greets, pushing his crossed palms up your stomach and spreading his fingers over your ribcage. He makes sure your t-shirt doesn’t ride up over his wrists — he wouldn’t want anyone but him seeing your lovely, soft stomach. “Having a good time?”
You sigh and tilt your head back onto James’s shoulder. You twist your head slightly so you’re looking up at him, your lips an inch from his jaw. “No, this is boring.”
James laughs, a barking, startled, delighted laugh. He’s glad he’s not the only one who’s being bored to tears by this party.
“Don’t let Sirius hear you say that,” James says seriously, though he wouldn’t mind telling him himself. Sirius can either throw the best parties or the worst. Tonight’s is the latter.
You giggle and push up to press your lips to James’s jaw. Your mouth is soft and sticky and James can’t resist turning his head at the last second before you pull away to catch you in a proper kiss. You laugh against his lips, startled, but you don’t stop him. He kisses and kisses and tastes your lip balm and the drink Sirius had concocted for you earlier.
You kiss him back with just as much eagerness, all sticky and sweet and a little bit messy, so when his hands start to climb your torso, hot and eager and searching for something to squeeze, who can blame him?
You yelp when James squeezes your breast, breaking away from the kiss to stare at him, one part scandalised and two parts flustered.
“James,” you gasp, leaning forwards so he’s forced to drop his hands from where they’d been cupping your breasts. “Don’t.”
James fakes innocence but by the look on your face, his lopsided grin is giving him away. “What?”
You scoff and twist in his lap so both your thighs are horizontal across his. Then you grab his wrists and tug his hands out from underneath your shirt.
“You can’t just grope me in your best friend’s living room,” you say deadpan.
“Why not?”
The little huff of frustration you make and the pout on your kiss-swollen lips are so adorable that James almost tells you so. He doesn’t. He’d rather keep his head.
“What do you mean ‘why not’?” You ask incredulously, looking adorably fed up. “There’s people.”
You gesture to the room around you. There are quite a lot of people, James notices. He’d been too interested in you to register the rest of the partygoers. In his defense, none of them are paying an ounce of attention to you or James.
“Nobody’s watching,” he reasons, moving to push his hand under your shirt again.
You stop him before he gets any further, slapping his hand away and twisting out of his reach.
“James,” you hiss, sounding flustered and annoyed simultaneously. “Get a hold of yourself.”
James laughs at that. How can you be telling him that when you’re sitting in his lap looking so pretty? It’s bollocks.
“Sorry, baby,” he says, sincere for all the wrong reasons. “You’re just irresistible, you know?”
You groan and collapse into his chest, hiding your hot face in his shoulder. You grumble into his shirt, and James hears words like ‘awful’ and ‘corny’ and ‘gross’.
“Poor girl,” he murmurs, reaching around to rub your back.
You grumble louder.
#★ mal writes!#ღ james#✉️#james potter#james potter x reader fluff#james potter fluff#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter imagine#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x reader#james potter drabble#james potter blurbs#james potter blurb#james potter fic
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25: Waking Nightmare
art by @exorbitantsqueakingnoises
if you sleep, you'll dream. if you dream, you'll see him. if you see him, you will never be free.
->original work. explicit; contains non-con, graphic descriptions of violence, hard vore, terato, non-human genitalia, mind-altering magic.
.
.
.
You can feel him all the time now. Not just when you close your eyes.
But it’s fine. That’s normal. It’s just residual magic. You get the same sticky cobweb feeling when you work with infernal pigments or walk by a Fundamentals of Magical Writing class in the first few weeks when people are still knocking their Stygian ink bottles over. That’s just how it works. If you dunk your head in a pool, you’ll drip for a while. Nothing weird or worrying about it. It’ll go away on its own.
You stay out late a lot these days. Not for any real reason, honestly, you’re just busy. And why hole up in your dark, quiet, isolated apartment when you could hit the town instead? There’s no time like the present to start enjoying clubs, concerts and all the dazzling nightlife Obelos has to offer. Your final exhibition is coming up and you’ve been working hard on getting those pieces ready, of course, but you need a break. Anyone would. It’s fine that you’re at the bar until it closes. It’s fine.
“You look tired,” people have started to say.
Well, obviously. It’s grad school! Everyone’s tired. Someone pass the tube of crepuscular blue. You stand up straighter in front of your easel. If you focus, your hand will stop shaking. You yawn and it spreads like a virus. See? you say. How are those gallery applications coming along?
The goetia double-major brags that they’re going great, actually, thank you so much for asking. “I’m in contact with the director of Gallery Decadentia,” she says casually, savoring the jealous glares and chorus of seething “Woooow, congratulaaaaations.” She’s become almost tolerable since securing a Benefactor-Patron. A little less smugness and a lot less tainting the communal workshop paints with subtle poison and then acting shocked and heartbroken when a classmate is out for a week with the worst flu of their life.
“Have any tips for snagging a Patron?” somebody asks.
She shrugs. “Study goetia. Honestly, I don’t know how else people do it nowadays. You’re out of luck unless you get into one of those really big expos. It’s that or somnarium painting.”
“Didn’t you do that for a while?”
The room gets quiet and you glance up from the stormy swirls forming on your canvas. Oh. They’re asking you. And now they’re staring, because your eyes are bloodshot and you keep tapping one of your hands against your thigh in an irregular rhythm to keep yourself alert and awake. You shrug. “For a little bit, yeah. It was good practice, I guess.”
You sound dismissive and they’re all nodding. “It’s so kitsch. I don’t get it.”
“Ugh, I had to do a bunch in Dream Augury a couple years ago. Huge waste of time.”
“I think they’re great,” someone says, terse. “It depends how you do it. Some of the greatest masterpieces of the Renaissance were somnarium paintings.”
“That’s completely different.”
“Yeah, the term actually meant something back then. You didn’t just splash some watercolor on the closest surface first thing in the morning and say it came to you in a dream.”
“Expos are better anyway,” the double-major says. “You don’t want a mare for a patron.”
“Really? Why?”
She raises a brow. “What happened to all those great somnarium painters of the Renaissance?”
“They didn’t all go missing, though.”
“Sure,” she scoffs. “A few of them died in their sleep.” She watches you carefully for a while but you don’t care. You’re focused on your work. You have nothing to hide. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.
You go out for a while. Enjoy the noise and lights, the lively ambience. You grab coffee. You window shop. You take the scenic route home. It’s well past midnight and you’re nodding while trying to find your keys in your pocket. You feel him. He’s there when your eyelids flutter. You jolt upright and shove your keys in the lock and it’s fine, all fine. You lock the door behind you. It’s dark. The lights don’t work right. You keep changing out the bulbs and they keep dying to a barely-there glow, weaker than little flickering candles.
Paper crumples under your shoe. That happens a lot. Kind of unavoidable when you’ve got sketches all over the floor and tables and chairs and stuffed in the drawers and pasted on the walls. Some are quick, frantic pencil scribbles, some ink, some hazy with watercolor, some sharp and acrylic. They’re of everything. Shapes. People. Plants. Animals. Corpses. Hungry castles. Seashell staircases and stained glass forests. And deer—lots of deer. Herds of deer, fractal deer, deer metamorphosis, deer saints. Close-ups of long lashes and bar pupils. Antlers that grasp.
You set an alarm for one hour from now. There are twelve more after that just in case. You might not even sleep. You might just lay down and rest your eyes for a second and—
You blink and there’s a house. A big one. A small one. It keeps changing. Cabin, cottage, courtyard full of butterflies. There’s a garden arch covered in clinging green tendrils and flowers that glow like the moon. Well, that’s alright, you tell yourself. It happens. Maybe you were just a little more tired than you thought. You set the alarms. You’ll be alright.
You step through the arch and into a rustic foyer; stone floor, wooden walls. Candles flicker. The hallway forks in three directions, each dark path lit only by a breadcrumb trail of flickering candles. You start walking. It doesn’t matter where. Open doorways line the hall, each room beckoning your attention with the beauty of full-bloom gardens, tranquil beaches and palatial bedchambers. Some are already occupied. The people inside sigh, and weep, and scream.
Here you are again, in the somnarium.
“Are you lost, sweetie?”
Someone peeks out of a room up ahead. A man. A mare, probably. He’s wearing a guise but there’s an unnatural, subtle luminescence around him, a soft haloing glow as though he’s standing in front of a light. He leans in the open doorway, an arm bent against the frame, head cocked and smile alluring. Light, silky robes hang from his body like a draped toga, the fabric translucent so you can see the subtle outline of his figure beneath.
“I’m not lost,” you insist. “I’m just…”
“Why don’t you come here? There’s always room for one more.” You see movement behind him. Squirming. Writhing. Bodies entangled, arched backs and thrusting hips; a shared dream of pleasure. Three humans kiss and caress one another. The glint of eyes in the dark tells you another mare is watching. The one at the door tilts your chin, returning your attention to his face. “Mm. What a sweet, sweet scent. But you’re a little too lucid for my tastes.” He sighs, patting your cheek. “Run along now. I’m sure someone will be very happy to see you.”
You keep walking. The hall never seems to end, splitting into even more maze-like paths. There are spiral staircases and cellar doors, windows to other worlds. You keep moving because that’s better than standing still. You looked it up. Mares prefer ambush to pursuit, but that doesn’t mean they won’t go on the hunt if they want something badly enough.
You see a nightmare of being lost in one room you pass. A man stumbles down a winding mountain path in hiking gear, shivering in the frigid wind. You just barely glimpse the mare—an elongated silhouette slinking through the trees. Across the hall, a woman dreams of a labyrinthine college campus and a classroom she can’t find and a mare follows closely behind her, nipping at her heels, hissing that she’s going to fail this class.
Further on, a shared nightmare of being chased has ended and the mares feast on their quarry. Your stomach churns at the sight and sound of gushing blood and cracking bone, the squelch of disembowelment. The dreamers struggle but they’ve already lost. They are always weaker than the hunters in their dreams, always too slow to outrun them. Some are shocked awake immediately, vanishing from the somnarium and leaving pouting mares behind.
But some linger, screaming for help and for mercy that’s never coming beneath their vicious attention. The mares wrench limbs from their sockets. They rip chunks of flesh from chests and thighs and lick the blood from their clawed fingers. They reach into the ragged, gaping wounds they make and shudder in delight at the fear their prey feels, the helplessness, the despair. Frenzied, their guises flicker and slip, revealing the wispy, protean strangeness beneath. They are ungulates—goats but not, caribou but wrong, spider-horses and centipede-deer. They move in ways they shouldn’t. Their bodies can’t decide how many legs to have and their faces are a constant shift of beauty and incomprehensible horror.
You see someone try to crawl away, shrieking in mindless terror when a mare pounces on their back. It stabs straight through their shoulder, staking them to the ground with a spear-like hoof. It rips at their clothes with its teeth and stomps their legs when they try to wriggle free, pummeling flesh and shattering bone. More legs—thin and spindly, sometimes hands, sometimes claws and pincers—emerge from its body to shove their head into the dirt and raise their hips. It makes itself a long, flat-headed cock already hard and drooling precum, grinding the grotesquely large organ against its prey’s backside.
“Hello, pet.”
You freeze when a hand seizes your shoulder and a warm, firm body presses against your back. Human, but only to the torso. You didn’t hear his hooves but you feel them now, knocking against your ankles. “Aelius,” you stammer. “I—”
“Do not speak.” He moves around you, his hand sliding from shoulder to the other as he circles around to stand between you and the doorway, his fingers hooking beneath your chin. He is calm and collected, unchanging in contrast to the constantly shifting nightmares gorging themselves behind him. You see a large deer-centaur, the lower body piebald with spots and patches of brown and white. Long white hair spills over one shoulder and down his back, the enormous antlers crowning his head tangled with climbing vines and pale blue flowers. Red eyes flick up and down, scrutinizing you.
He doesn’t say anything for a long time. Sounds of violence and lust—blood, hunger and ecstatic moans—emanate from the room behind him. When you start to squirm, he licks his lips.
“You have been avoiding me,” he says, low and dangerous. You start to insist that you weren’t, you’d never, you know better, and he squeezes your jaw. “Do. Not. Speak,” he hisses. “And do not ever lie to me again. Such impudence.” He drags you closer, his grip on your face forcing you onto your toes. He smirks in satisfaction at the small whimper you let out. “But that is part of your charm. Come.”
He lets go of you and steps over the threshold, his form rippling as he enters the room. He stops to look back over his shoulder, his cold gaze warning you that his patience is short tonight. You follow reluctantly, entering the nightmare of devouring. He walks slowly and through the center of the carnage, forcing you to walk through unwound ropes of intestine and splayed, partially skeletonized limbs. You know where Aelius is going. You see the rutting mare ahead, back legs spread as it thrusts wildly into the captive, impaled body in front of it. You don’t want to get any closer but he looks back sharply when you stop moving.
“Come here,” he growls. He’s appeased by your rush to obey but only slightly. He grabs your arm and drags you closer, forcing you to stand beside him. You’re right next to the other mare, so close that you could reach out and touch its flank. You can see the dreamer’s distend around its cock, abdomen bulging obscenely with every thrust. They shudder and moan weakly in pain, fingers tangled in the grass and dirt. Every time they start to sag and go limp, close to waking, the mare twists the dagger-like limb in their shoulder and makes them scream.
Aelius grabs you by the hair when you turn away, yanking until your scalp is burning and you let out a wounded noise.
“You may speak,” he says. “And you will tell me what drove you to such petty mischief. Do not look away.”
You inhale shakily. You do what he asks, even though the sights and sounds of the mare’s relentless thrusts make your stomach turn. “I…I want you to let me go.”
He chuckles, his grip loosening. He massages your scalp instead as a reward for your obedience. “Let you go?” he purrs. “Whatever do you mean by that?”
You swallow nervously. Is he going to try and deny it? Bored of the dreamer’s quiet resignation, the mare bends its front legs, the front of its body resting heavily on their back. Its thrusts slow to harder, deeper pounding, long pauses between movements leaving it fully hilted in the dreamer’s trembling body. You hear their breath turning to strained wheezes.
“I don’t dream about anything else anymore,” you say. “I always come here.”
“Such things aren’t unheard of. Many humans prefer my somnarium to aimless wandering, or the predations of other demons.”
He’s going to make you say it. Why? Because it scares you? Because you know, deep down, what’s been happening all along but didn’t want to believe it? You take a deep breath. “I can feel you. Even when I’m awake. I can feel your magic on me.”
The mare looks at you and your breath hitches. Its face is mostly human but there are flickers of other things, a fogginess to its features. It looks at you and in that moment it knows everything you want most and everything you’re afraid of. Its eyes narrow. It licks its lips. It keeps looking at you as it spills inside the dreamer, heavy balls pressed against their ass. A slow dribble of cum leaks from their abused entrance, dark blue and glittering like the night sky.
“Oh? Is that so?” Aelius asks, stroking your arm. “And why might that be?”
“Because…”
The mare pauses for a moment. It’s not resting. It doesn’t need to because it’s not tired. It waits for the human to go completely limp, to exhale finally, to close their eyes and try desperately to will themselves awake. That’s when it starts to pull, dragging itself inch by inch out of their body, all the way to the tip and letting a gush of thick, frothing cum gush down their thighs. Then it slams back in, savoring their hoarse, rasping scream, and starts to fuck them again.
“Because you’re Entrancing me,” you whisper.
You looked it up. It’s a slow, subtle thing, easy to miss until you’re in the throes of it. First, you’re tired. You want to sleep more often. Then sleep always brings you to the same somnarium, and your dreams always push you into the arms of the same mare. Then you feel it—intrusions in your mind. Whispers and suggestions, gentle nudges. Thoughts that feel like yours but aren’t. It takes a long time for a mare to get so far in your head that it starts to leak into your waking life, but once Entrancement has set in, it can take months or even years to fully break.
The more you see him and the more he feeds, the worse it’ll be. You already respond to his touch, unable to stop yourself from leaning into his hand stroking your cheek.
“The modern age is so vexing at times,” Aelius muses. “Once, you would have needed to consult an oracle or an experienced infernal scholar to even hear that word and understand what it entailed. It matters not. You are already mine. And is that not what you asked of me?”
You wanted security. You wanted to stop worrying about your bills and tuition and the staggering cost of infernal pigments. You wanted to know you would be alright in the end, no matter what happened. “I asked if you would be my Patron,” you say.
He smiles and leans in, bending down to be closer to eye level with your thumb caught between his fingers. “And I said I would,” he murmurs. “Gladly I would, to ensure your brush is ever wet with the finest paints, so long as you paint for me. Of course I Entranced you. You belong to me.”
You think he’s going to kiss you. You hold your breath, waiting for it. Hoping, despite everything. It frightens you to want him this much. But instead he chuckles and pulls away, straightening to his full height.
“Now, this is the scene you will paint for me when you wake.” He gestures to the smirking mare who arches seductively as though posing for you, its hips still snapping against its captive prey. “Look carefully,” Aelius says, grasping your shoulders. He stands right behind you, pressing his toned chest against your back. “Pay close attention. The light. The color. The movement. You will be rewarded for your attention to detail. Perhaps, someday…” He chuckles, wrapping his arms around you. “Someday, I will ask you for a self-portrait in the same style.”
Loud, shrill noise makes you gasp and bolt upright. You wake up in bed, in the dark. You grope for your phone on the bedside table, stomach sinking when you see you slept through four of your alarms. You can feel him, even now. You can feel the weight of his gaze and the ghostly caress of his hands. You don’t know what you’re going to do. Is there someone you can tell? Someone who can help you? You know someone in the Goetia Studies Department. Maybe she—
Your heart skips a beat. You sit up slowly, pulling your leg back from the hard surface it just bumped into. There, at the foot of your bed, is a canvas and a collection of brand new infernal paint.
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Val! Heya love.
So, for your birthday ask game. I was gonna choose a trope from the office relationship, but it got out of hand when I liked more than 5🥹.
Can we please have something for Steve and Reader, where at SHIELD they’re incredibly close and have feelings for each other?
Lots of sticky notes on laptops, doodles on briefs, texts to one another under the table about coworkers, fixing ties and hair, and maybe sporadic texts about something to do with“work/meetings” when they really just want an excuse to talk to the other?
Sab, darling!!!
A/N: I loved this request so I hope you like what I wrote for it. Also send in all the other request I promise I don’t mind!!
Between sticky notes, meeting rooms and elevators.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Warning: pining and fluff, some America puns (I’m so sorry they’re only like two but I couldn’t help myself)
You were late and your boss hated when you were late. It didn’t help that when you finally got to the briefing all eyes were on you when you got to the only available seat.
“Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Ms. Y/L/N. Now we can finally get started.” Your boss announces.
You take a deep breath as you look up to find Steve sitting right across from you. He raised an eyebrow at you and shook his head in mock disappointment. You rolled your eyes and smiled before your eyes landed on the disposable coffee cup in front of you. There was a little smiley face with your name on it in Steve’s handwriting. You mouth a thank you and he winks at you before turning his attention to the front of the room. Those pesky little butterflies that made your stomach their home since the day you met Steve took flight again.
~~~~~~~
“Hey Y/N,” Steve calls out to you as soon as the meeting is over. The sea of people in the hallway parts for him. “So how was your morning?” He smiles, the mischief behind his eyes lets you know he’s just joking.
“It was wonderful. My alarm didn’t go off, traffic was horrible and I had this meeting right at the beginning of the day with the most annoying of my boss.”
You hear someone clear their throat behind you. Steve is already holding his laughter as you turn around with a horrified look on your face. Your boss glares at you for a moment.
“Don’t let your tardiness become a habit Ms. Y/L/N.” he states before walking away.
Steve just gives a long whew as he watches your boss walk away. You cover your face behind the files you’re holding before Steve pulls them away in order to hold them for you.
“Did you know he was standing behind me?” You look up at him with a pout.
“Absolutely not. I would never let you embarrass yourself like that even though it was entertaining.”
You just glare up at him, mostly playfully. He laughs as you both get on the elevator. As others get on you’re pushed back more until you end up back to chest with Steve. His free arm comes up and around your waist to keep you up right. You hope he can’t hear your heart beating faster the longer you stand that close to him.
Once you are on your floor you get out while Steve stays on the elevator. Neither of you would really look at each other so you couldn’t see the pink tint on his cheeks and the sheepish smile that played on his lips.
“I’ll-uh I’ll send those reports to you as soon as I can.” You say.
“I’ll be waiting for them.”
“I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, see you later.” He says and then the doors close.
*****
Just as you said the reports were ready for Steve. With a pep in your step you go up to his office to drop them off even though there is someone that can do that for you. You frown when you get to your destination as you see that the lights are off. Grabbing a post-it you always carry with you and a pen you write a quick note and leave the file in his drop box.
A few minutes later you get a text.
Steve: Thanks for the vote of confidence.
Attached to his text was a picture of the sticky note. It was a drawing of a stick figure saluting and it says. ‘I know you ameriCAN do it.’
Y/N: You’re welcome. ☺️☺️
Y/N: let me know you make it back safe!
Steve: Always do. 😉
You smile at your phone before putting it away and working on the next set of reports.
~~~~~~
Steve: This guy’s voice is so monotonous that he's making himself fall asleep.
You try to hide your laugh behind a cough while Steve has the nerve to send you a message shushing you.
Y/N: not fair! Don’t make me laugh like that.
Steve: 🤷🏼 it’s true though… don’t look now but I think Linda from accounting is asleep with her eyes open.
You slowly look over and you watch as one of her coworkers nudges her. She starts slightly and then sinks into her chair further.
Y/N: 💀💀 oh maybe you should recruit him for the avengers. He could just give this speech to any bad guy and they’ll turn themselves in just to avoid hearing him anymore.
It was Steve’s turn to huff a laugh and try to cover it by clearing his throat. You were seated in different sections because of your jobs but still managed to be in each other's line of sight. Every time you looked over he would pretend to be nodding off, you shook your head every time before looking away.
****
“I thought that guy would never stop talking.” You say as you meet Steve in the hallway.
“Yeah, that was painful.”
“Oh, here are those analyses you requested.” You hand him a few folders. “Everything is arranged from what I thought would need priority down to low grade issues.”
“Thanks. Here are my completed reports.” He hands you a folder. “Everything is signed, all it needs is your review and it can be filed.”
“Thanks. I guess I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, see you later.” He smiles at you. That boyish grin that makes your knees weak.
When you get to your desk and open the first folder you laugh. Paperclipped to the first report was a doodle of the speaker from earlier except Steve has made him look like a sloth. You take the doodle out of the folder and place it in the small box you keep all of the doodles Steve gives you.
~~~~~~~~
“Hello?”
“Hey Steve,” you say as you look over some information that he needed. “I have that report you requested but you aren’t in your office.”
“Oh yeah, I was called back to New York for a mission with the avengers.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No,” he shakes his head even though you can’t see him. “You’re never an interruption. Is everything ok?”
“Yeah I just wanted to know what you wanted me to do with the report , you know, since you’re not here.”
There was a protocol in place for this occasion. You knew that and so did Steve. Still neither of you could wipe those dopey grins on your faces as you spoke to each other.
“Why don’t you hold on to them and I’ll get them once I get back?”
“That works.” There’s a small silence before you break it. “Well I’ll leave you to it. Please-“
“I don’t have to hang up yet. I mean if you have time, we can talk.”
“I’d like that.”
“Have I missed anything in the office since I left?” He asks as he sits back in his bed at the tower.
“You mean in the three hours since you left?”
“Yup.”
“Of course you did. Now you didn’t hear it from me, but rumor is that Linda from accounting is having an affair.”
“No!”
“Yes. And you’ll never guess with who?”
“Who?” Steve asks excitedly.
“Sloth man.”
“There’s no way.”
“It’s only what I’ve heard, it hasn’t been confirmed.”
“I wonder what she sees in him.”
“A good night's sleep.” You murmur.
Steve throws his head back and laughs. Once he calms down he starts giving you theories about the supposed rumor. Then the conversation turns into other topics. Before you know it you’ve been on the phone for at least two hours when he needs to leave.
“Please be safe.”
“I will. See you in a day or so.” Steve says before hanging up.
~~~~~~~~~
The day had dragged on. Maybe it was because you didn’t have much work for the day. But you had a sneaking suspicion that it had to do with a certain blond haired, blue-eyed super soldier not being around.
It wasn’t until late in the evening and you were working extra hours that you received a very long overdue break. There’s a little knock at the end of your desk. You push yourself a little bit to turn your chair around. Words die on your tongue when you see a bruised up Steve standing there.
“Oh my god what happened?” You raise your hand to lightly touch a bruise on his cheek.
He wraps his fingers around your wrist and you immediately realize how inappropriate it is. When you go to pull your hand away he doesn’t let you. His thumb is drawing a lazy circle on your wrist as he brings both your hands down.
“Just some bad guys. Nothing I couldn’t handle. Why are you still here?”
“I think my boss is still mad that I called him annoying and I’m stuck doing more paperwork.” You shrug your shoulders.
“Well I hope you haven’t had dinner yet.”
“Nope.”
“Good.” He smiles at you and then pulls a bag from behind his back. “Because I brought your favorite.”
“My hero.” You beam before turning and clearing a spot on your desk. Steve places the bag down and pulls a chair from an empty desk and sits down with a bit of a grunt. “So spill it.” You motion to him.
“Just a mission.”
“I need a play by play. Come on please. I read all of your reports, they’re basically a book at this point and I need the next chapter.”
He huffed a laugh. “Fine. But it’s rather boring.”
“You could never bore me.”
“Could I get that in writing? I’d like to have proof for Tony.”
“Sure, I’ll even have it notarized.”
He laughs again and shakes his head. Then he starts talking about the mission. You could sit there listening to Steve talk about anything. After he finished that story you moved on to other topics, work now long forgotten.
~~~~~~~
As much as you hated it, Shield was requiring a certain number of their employees from each department to attend a gala. Because your boss still had it out for you, you were selected to attend.
You were fiddling with the necklace you’d paired with your dress as you walked through the already crowded venue. Someone grabs you by your forearm and pulls you into an empty hallway while you try to throw a punch.
“Woah calm down, it’s just me.” Steve said as he let go of you.
“Why would you grab me like that?”
“I’m sorry I just didn’t want anyone to realize I was here. Please don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad, it’s just I thought I was being kidnapped.” You frown a bit.
“I’d never let that happen.”
Heat rushed to your cheeks, you knew he meant it as a friend but sometimes you wish it was more than that.
“Is everything ok?”
“Honestly, I’m kind of nervous.”
“You are nervous? Why?” You ask incredulously.
“This function is for World War Two vets. I don’t know it’s not the same as if I was dealing with someone that didn’t fight in it. They ask questions and I can play it down a bit but with the vets… It makes me feel exposed.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I have to give a speech. If I find you a seat closer to the stage would you take it?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you .”
“Don’t mention it.”
His large hand takes yours and he pulls you down the hall with the intention of leading you to the seat he mentioned. You tug on his hand so that he stops and turns to you. Pulling him a bit closer you reach up and fix the bow tie. Then your hands instinctively run across his shoulders and down his chest in order to smooth out his tux. He smiles at you then. His eyes light up when he sees you return it. The moment is far too intimate for two friends to be sharing but it feels right nonetheless.
Steve graciously walks you to an open seat and heads to the stage. Just like you knew it would, the speech was a success. Still every once in a while he’d look down at you and you’d return an encouraging smile.
****
“May I have this dance?” Steve had his hand stretched out in front of you.
“Why yes you may.”
You place your smaller hand in his and he leads you to the dance floor. Steve places one hand on your waist and the other takes your hand. As a slow song starts playing he begins to lead, the scent of his cologne is intoxicating in the best ways.
“I thought you didn’t dance.”
“Only with the right partner. Besides, Sam bet that I wouldn’t dance with the most beautiful woman here. I had to prove him wrong.” He says just as he turns both of you and Sam comes into your line of sight, raising a glass of champagne and smiling.
“Steve…”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just thought it was time I told you how I really felt. It’s ok if you don’t feel the same but I learned my lesson the hard way.” He spins you around and pulls you back in. “I like you as more than just friends. Seeing you makes my day, I can literally be having the worst day and you make it better. If it weren’t for you working at Shield would have been a nightmare. You saw me for more than just Captain America and I don’t think you realize what that means to me. It’s never bothered you to have to do things differently or having to spend time teaching me something because I just don’t know about all of the new technology. Most importantly you don’t mock me for it, you accept me as I am. And I’m so grateful you’re in my life.”
Steve dips you and as he pulls you back up all you can do is stare up at him with wide eyes. He smiles fondly at you as he takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles.
“I have to go on a mission. But would you be willing to talk about this some more when I get back?”
You just nod, all words had escaped you at the moment. How were you supposed to respond? You adored Steve but never in a million years did you think it was reciprocated. Steve leans down and kisses your cheek before walking towards Sam. Then you watch as they both walk out. By the time you leave the gala you’re still reeling and trying to figure out how to respond.
~~~~~~~~~
Steve didn’t get back until Tuesday. It had been four days since the gala and since he told you how he felt. He was supposed to be back today. You knew for a fact he was because some of the people on your team had mentioned seeing him. Without being able to take much more you rush to the elevator and press the button for his floor.
Everyone around you rushes out but you are glued to your spot. Standing at the doors is Steve, looking as handsome as ever. His eyes light up when he sees you even though there’s a really bad bruise on his cheek and it’s obvious the mission was worse than expected. Still he steps into the elevator and no one dares walk in, leaving the two of you alone. The elevator starts to ascend but Steve pushes the stop button.
“Hi.” You manage to squeak out.
“Hi, I am free tonight by the way.”
“Oh, good.” You say as you try to hide your smile.
“But another America joke really?” He holds up the post-it note you had placed inside a folder for him to find.
It simply reads: on a scale of one to America, how free are you tonight? With a few stars drawn around it.
“You are Captain America, I have to use that to my advantage.” You giggle at his fake huff of annoyance. “Since you’re a superhero does that mean you’re super free tonight?”
Steve genuinely laughs this time before he turns to you. He finds that you’re already looking up at him with a soft smile.
“You’re lucky you’re so cute.”
“Oh so you think I’m cute.”
“Yup.” He takes a step towards you, forcing you against the wall. His hands rest on the small handrail, effectively caging you in.
“How cute would I have to be to get you to kiss me?”
“I think you’re there already.” Steve says before his lips are on yours.
It was better than what you had imagined. His lips were soft, the kiss was sweet. Unfortunately it was short lived.
“If you two are done holding up the elevator, I’d really appreciate seeing Captain Rogers in my office. Now.” Director Fury’s voice came through the speaker and you pulled away quickly.
You giggled at the fact that you had been caught. The butterflies in your belly were in full flight as Steve smiled at you. When the elevator came to a stop he pressed a kiss to your cheek and stepped out.
“I’ll see you tonight.” You smile at him as the doors close. A few seconds later you get a text.
Steve: It's a date. 😉
#you’ve got mail 💌#val answers#val’s birthday celebration#val’s 1000 follower celebration#steve rogers one shot#steve rogers fanfic#Steve Rogers x reader#steve rogers imagines#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x fem!reader#steve rogers x y/n#captain america x reader#captain america#sab 🐉
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this is a reminder for the firemanrry blurb thank you blossom🫶
HIII SORRY FOR FORGETTING HEHEHE
YOU COULDVE READ THIS EARLIER ON PATREON!!
i.
“You’re whiny.”
Getting to this point had taken a lot of build-ups; more than Y/N typically cared to deal with, but she seemed to bend many of her primary irritants when it came to Harry. How he snores, how he likes to cuddle after sex when they were hot and their skin was sticky, how he’ll beg and pout when she tells him she isn’t going to bake muffins Saturday morning because she bakes all week (“but I’m not making you bake alone, we’d be doing it together). Things like that would usually get deep under Y/N’s skin, how they did with other people –but Harry wasn’t just some other person. With Harry, it was kind of cute.
Sometimes, her feelings swelled in her chest and overwhelmed her so immensely that she was unsure how to verbalize them. So she tries to show him how much she cares, in how she treats him, in what she makes him, in how patient she is with him. Like when he’s tiptoeing around something new he wanted to try in bed, all jumpy and jittery, full of nerves. He gets this look in his eyes when he wants to say something or ask for something, but it withers away on his tongue.
It leads to a lot of Y/N asking, “What is it?” And him smiling sheepishly and shaking his head.
“Nothing.”
Y/N can only do this so many times before she finally lets it get to her. It had been a few weeks now since she could tell he wanted something from her but didn’t know how to ask. And it wouldn’t have taken a genius to know it was something regarding sex, because when the topic came up that’s when he had that look in his eye again. Maybe Y/N would ignore it if it wasn’t important to her to satisfy his needs as he satisfies her own (she’s all about give and take when it comes down to it), but it is important to her.
But she’s patient as she always is with him, letting him pussyfoot around it for a couple of weeks before she finally snapped. They’d been kissing when it happened, Harry breathless and needy, his hands dancing around her body like he couldn’t figure out where he wanted to hold and what he wanted to grab. Engulfed by his desires, he started to let it slip out, parting from her to suck in air and to breathe, “I want –” against her lips before he smears them back over her mouth.
Humming, Y/N nips at his bottom lip and bites back a smile at the sharp whine that leaves him, “Hm? What do you want?” She skates her fingers up his shirt, squeezing his sides, “What’ve you been keeping from me?”
Harry is dazed, when he draws back to look at her, eyes all glassy and unfocused and it’s just horribly endearing how worked up he gets just from kissing. He shudders, and with one hand on her hip he digs his fingers into the flesh and he pauses, like he’s thinking about it. Indecisive about what he wants to do next.
It’s only when he starts to shake his head like he’s going to brush it off again and bend down to kiss her, Y/N threads her fingers into his hair. She grabs at the root, firm in a way he likes, and tugs just enough to keep him from progressing. A moan leaves him, deep and low from his belly, “Harry,” she says, her tone warning, “What is it that you want?” This time she asks it slowly, enunciating every syllable, leaving no room for hesitation or question. She speaks it in a way that says she knew he wanted something – something he’d been trying to hide but doing so poorly at.
He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, chewing on it just for a few seconds before he falters beneath her gaze, “I want to – I wanna try you inside of. . .inside of me.”
Y/N blinks at him.
“That’s it?” She tilted her head, the fingers in his hair now card gently through the strands, stretching her fingers out to untangle the curls.
“What do you mean that’s it?” Harry pouted, “That’s kind of big, isn’t it?”
Y/N shrugged, “Not really,” she told him, “I thought you were g’na ask to piss on me or something.”
“Y/N –” he starts to whine again.
“--but you want me inside of you? That’s manageable and easy – is it just my fingers you want, or do you want me to peg you?”
Harry lets out another shuddered breath, “The – both,” he clears his throat, “I want both.”
Y/N nodded, “Order one then, and I will.”
Somehow, Harry manages to appear even more sheepish, his face already flushed pink now a blazing red, “I already. . .” he trailed off and it only takes Y/N a couple of seconds to realize that he’s already made the purchase. A startled laugh leaves her throat, and she pets him like he’s a cat, rubbing over his shoulder blades.
“Oh wow, you really do want it.”
He whines again, hiding his face in her throat and Y/N laughs again. He presses a kiss to her skin, then nips at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, “Have you before?” He inquired and Y/N hummed, tracing circles along his skin.
“Mhm,” she thinks back to it – it was a while ago, but she remembers she slept with a guy who was really into it. It was nothing remarkable or special, really, and Y/N hadn’t really thought about doing it again until right now – until she started thinking about how cute Harry would look beneath her. He’s already precious while she’s riding him and he’s breathless and panting and needy. . .she feels like this would be a reaction similar, but doubled. Something even better – something that makes her squeeze around nothing at the thought.
Harry grumbled, pulling back and he pouted again, “Your lip is gonna get stuck like that.” She teases and Harry sighs, brows furrowed.
“I’m not your first?” Y/N smiles at him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek, guiding him backward so she could sit up from where she’d been spread out on the bed.
“You’re jealous?” She teased again, and Harry, always so honest, nodded.
“Yes,” he huffed, “I’m jealous. Sorry.”
“You’re silly and you think too much,” she urged him even further, so he dropped his bum to the bed, leaning back onto the mattress and letting her drag his sweatpants off, “Do you want to be on your belly or on your back?”
Harry chooses his belly, his face and neck pink with a flush she’s sure splotches down his chest and torso as he rolls over onto his stomach. He’s already hard, dripping enough that there had been a small wet spot on his briefs and she gives him a slight reprieve from any more teasing for now. They were in his room, and Y/N knows that he keeps lube in his bedside drawer so she reaches over and plucks it out, popping the cap, while simultaneously placing a pillow beneath his hips, “Have you ever had your fingers in yourself before?”
“A few times,” he murmured, muffled against the pillow he’d dragged to lay his head on, “But I – only like 1 or 2.”
“You’ve got pretty big fingers,” she told him, sliding her hands over the warm skin – he’s got a cute little bum, Y/N’s always thought so, and she’d always appreciated that it wasn’t flat or too muscular. He was soft, and the flesh yields to her touch, “I bet it felt pretty good.”
He sucked in another shaky breath, “I just – I imagined it was you, the whole time.”
“You’re cute,” Y/N sighs, leaning in and kissing between his shoulders before she takes the bottle of lube and squirts some on her fingers and then between his cheeks, murmuring an apology when he hisses from how cold it was. Y/N figured it should be a bit messy – partly because she knew the more lube the better, and it would aid in the glide of her fingers – and partly because she wanted to hear her fingers squelch while she fucked him with them. She was already enjoying this much more than the first time she’d done it, and she hadn’t even gotten a finger in yet.
Harry’s soft and pink, when she splits him open for her to see and he wriggles beneath her gaze. He’d just showered – honestly, they were halfway to going to bed for the night, but Harry had snuggled in beside her and started kissing her soon after he’d put clothes on. She has half the mind to lick into him but she thinks that might be a lot for the first time they’re trying this together.
“Tell me if you want to stop,” she murmured, “At any point, and we will.”
With that, she slides one finger against the rim, listening to him inhale deeply as she traced along the outside and waits for him to relax enough that she could slip inside of him. She lets him get used to the idea of the intrusion before actually pushing forth with it, sinking her index finger inside of him slowly, feeling his walls contract and pulsate around her to accommodate the addition.
She sinks down to her knuckle and then curls her finger, biting back a smile when Harry moans, loud and unabashed as she brushes against his prostate, “F-fuck,” he cries out, “More.”
“Ohh, that was quick,” she murmured, “I kind of thought I’d have to work to make you beg.”
“No teasing,” she can hear the pout in his voice though she can’t see it, and with her free hand she traces circles into his lower back.
“I’m not teasing,” she curls her finger again, and his hips jump forward, brushing against the pillow in front of him, “I was just noting. You’re more of a slut than I thought.”
Another moan, loud and whiny, and Y/N doesn’t stop herself from smiling this time.
This was much better than the other time she’s done it.
. . .
Harry should have known Y/N would be meticulous in her approach to this; she is with all things. He’s certain that is what makes her such a good baker – she knows exactly what she needs to do, how she needs to do it, and what she would need to do – for every cake, bread, or cookie she’s making. Despite her relatively relaxed and ‘go-with-the-flow’ nature, she was incredibly diligent and detailed when it came to doing certain things. Her baking, for one, but that was a given. How she makes her bed in the mornings, she’s pretty strict about that (unless Harry is asleep in it still, then she leaves it be but he knows better than to leave it unmade when he wakes). The order she maintains her skincare routine, she can be pretty thorough as well.
And last, but not least, she’s most detailed and scrupulous in how she can pull Harry apart.
She’s always been good at it – from the first moment that she walked in on him touching himself, she knew exactly what to do and how to do it. As if Harry’s pleasure was an intricately woven puzzle for her to carefully pluck and pull apart as a means to amuse herself. One that wasn’t all too difficult, honestly, because it doesn’t take much to have Harry shuddering and cumming in his pants.
He’d been so nervous to bring it up but he doesn’t know why – Y/N was Y/N; the worst she could say is no, but she would never judge him or be cruel about it. She was horribly blunt, yes, but she wasn’t mean – she was honest in a way that Harry has never experienced from someone in his life. It was refreshing today as it was the first time they met in yoga.
Secretly – or, well not so secretly, he did admit it to her – he was jealous that she had already experienced this with someone else. Retrospectively, he knew it was beneficial to the both of them and they weren’t fumbling around trying to figure out what to do and how to do it, and in turn, it made the experience better for the both of them. But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel a little whiny about it. The thought of Y/N with anyone besides him fills him up with such intense jealousy he couldn’t ever voice it aloud, though he’s sure it’s written all over his face even when he tries to hide it.
But she gives him no time to really dwell on it because she’s flipped him over and has been fucking her fingers into him. Working him up, grazing and brushing his prostate teasingly before actually stroking it, punching into it, curling her fingers (the three of them she’d worked inside of him) until he had softened up (his muscles, not his cock – he’s never been as hard as he was now). Harry is rocking his hips against the pillow, feeling the fabric stroke against the sensitive tip of his dick that’s sticky and wet from all he’s leaking. It’s too much – it feels too good – and all the while Y/N is telling him how much of a whore he is. How slutty he looks around her fingers, how good he’s taking it.
At some point, he’d maneuvered so he had his knees bent, and it gave him more leverage to fuck back against her fingers. This stirs a pleased and surprised-sounding laugh from behind him, “Oh?”
“Please,” he whimpered, “Please, please –”
“Do you want to cum on my fingers?” She inquired, “I thought you wanted me to fuck you?”
He gasps wetly when she reaches around, fitting her hand between his body and the pillow and curling her fingers around the base of his prick, squeezing tightly, “Yes, yes, yes, I need – I need it.”
“Ohh, you need it now?” She leaned forward, kissing the small of his back and keeping both of her hands still, “Where’s it at, baby?”
Harry somehow manages to instruct her where the strap-on he ordered was hidden beneath his bed, and Y/N withdraws her fingers from him slowly, wiping them off on his bum before reaching over the edge of his mattress. There’s a lot of fiddling behind him and he tries to ground himself while he waits, taking deep, slow breaths, keeping his muscles relaxed and softened for her. Y/N playfully taps the head of the dildo (what was a sparkly blue, a little smaller than average size since it was his first time) against his bum and giggles. Then she does it again against his rim, and the giggle Harry shared with her turns into a wanton noise, “Do you want to stay on your belly?”
He was still a little embarrassed for her to see him like this, so he nodded. Harry hates how quick he is to get worked up, and he feels silly for how even just the tip of it against him made him feel like he was going to cum. If he was actually looking at Y/N while it happened, he’d probably cum before she could even bottom out – so he’d stay on his belly for now. Y/N noses at the nape of his neck, a moment very tender and soft for what they were about to do.
The stretch isn’t as unbearable as he’d imagined it might be. Y/N had spent ample time stretching him out and getting him relaxed so he thinks that aids a lot in the entry (plus the obscene amount of lube he heard her squirt onto it); slow and steady she presses into him, rocking her hips gently. She rocks more and more of the dildo in until he’s seated against the fake balls and he can feel the rough fabric that’s keeping the harness velcro onto her. As he’s getting used to feeling so, so, so full – Y/N wraps around again and twists her hand over his cock. His erection hadn’t flagged even a bit, which he guesses Y/N had not been expecting, “You feel good?”
“Mhm,” he hums, rocking his hips into her fist, “So good, I want you to move – need you to move.”
“Are you sure, Sweetheart?” She is stretched over him, her cheek pressed to the side of his head while she murmured in his ear, “You ready for me to fuck you open?”
“God, please.”
Just as Harry does with her, Y/N starts slow and then builds up her pace. At first, it’s just a gentle rocking, and Harry feels the soft silicone drags at his rim, a smooth glide in and out as he’s merely getting used to the feeling of it being inside of him. Y/N fixes her hands on his hips, cants them in a certain way, and makes sure the pillow is still bunched up beneath him on one of her pulls out – and when she sinks back into him, he sees stars, “Fuck!”
Y/N breathes another laugh as she focuses on that spot, not holding back, and even though Harry can tell that the movements are slightly clunky and a little on the slower side (she doesn’t do this often, obviously it would be a little difficult) she makes up for it in the force behind each thrust. She punches into his prostate and each time more precum leaks from him, dripping onto the pillow, making it messy, and in turn his cock strokes through it. Everything is stimulating him, it feels like, even how the sheets feel against his skin, and how Y/N kisses wetly at his throat, nipping and sucking and biting, “It’s a shame I can’t cum in you, hm? I bet you’d look pretty with it leaking out.”
“I’m cumming,” he barely whines out, the bubble of heat rapidly expanding from a small trickle to a full-on wave, “Cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” It’s full-bodied, all-encompassing, rattling through his body and shaking through limbs. He simultaneously presses back into the fake dick and forward trying to run away from the overstimulation of it, but he only bucks into her hand then. His fingers dig into the pillows tightly, Harry’s moans and mewls crescendo as he spurts hot and wet from his tip – some even hits his chin.
Harry basks in the afterglow of it, chest heaving as Y/N’s hips slow to a stop. She spends some time kissing him, only this time she slides her hand under his cheek against the pillow and has him meet her mouth. The positioning makes it hard to properly kiss, but it works, even if Harry is just panting hotly against her mouth, his tongue curling around hers. Eventually, while he’s distracted by the kiss, she slowly slides out of him with a squelch that makes Harry wince and he frowns at the empty feeling.
The sound of Velcro detaching is what finally gets Harry to flip around, and before he can even settle, Y/N is crawling over the top of him. Her knees bracket his waist, and she hovers over where his cock had begun to soften, “Did you like it?”
Harry smiled, nodding, “So much,” he murmured, “Thank you for doing this with me.”
Y/N gets a look in her eye that Harry can only describe as fond, as she moves forward to press a kiss to his cheek, then his nose, then his mouth before she’s leaning back up again, “Don’t thank me,” she replied, “Get hard again and fuck me this time to show me you’re grateful.”
Harry’s prick twitches between his thighs.
That wouldn’t be too difficult.
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Better Uses for Company Time
ALRIGHT first installment of the 90's wall street chubby Aegon. I think I'm just going to do short snapshot style fics for this AU, but idk honestly we'll see. I KNOW that the next one is going to be blowing Aegon after he fills up on hors d'oeuvres at a charity event, that's already in the google doc babe.
tagging the babes I blabbed about this to @khaleesihel and who drew the LOVELY Aegon art that I stared at while writing @who-told-you-this-was-butter
Ummm Aegon is a sleazy trust fund baby, reader is fucken h o r n y, implied fem reader, slight mention of how hot I think Rhaenys is (I'm right)
You weren’t sure if Aegon actually worked at T&V Investments.
He was certainly around a lot, grab-assing on secretaries and making tiny paper airplanes out of sticky notes and generally being a menace to productivity levels, but he didn’t seem to actually work.
When you’d first been brought on as a receptionist, you’d been told to just ignore him.
“He’s like furniture.” Rhaenys had said. You’d nodded, but hadn’t really internalized the information. You were a smidge busy dealing with the fact that you were being shown around by the hottest hiring manager you’d ever met.
But it turned out that Rhaenys had a point. Aegon had, in the time since your hiring, become something of a fixture of the building in your mind. His presence was as normal as the weird noises the fax machine made.
This normalization did nothing to help that fact that you’d wanted desperately to ride him like a pony since your first day at the office.
It really wasn’t your fault. Aegon was hot, in a pathetic, trust fund kind of way. Besides, you had a feeling he knew exactly how difficult it was to focus when he leaned over the reception desk, smelling of nicotine and too much cologne, and said something absolutely disgusting to you.
Maybe that’s why you’d gotten the job in the first place; maybe he’d told the previous receptionist that he could ‘help her out of her pantyhose’ and she had straight up quit instead of entertaining Aegon's nonsense the way you did.
Good for her.
But you couldn’t quit. In addition to needing to pay the inflated rent of Kings Landing, you got to see Aegon in the office practically every day. It may have been distracting, when he got in your space, but it wasn’t unwelcome. You couldn’t imagine not taking the opportunity to get an eyeful of his pretty face-all soft, rounded angles and big violet eyes, just begging to be looked at, to be given attention.
It was hard to not give him attention, sometimes. You thought you were decently subtle, at least. You didn’t outright ogle-Aegon may have been an HR disaster in waiting, but not you-just took a ‘prolonged glance’ every now and then. Very casual, very professional, and not at all indicative of how badly you wanted to fuck the guy who slapped your ass when you showed up for your interview.
Alright, maybe you sometimes gave him a bit of attention. Maybe sometimes you made idle conversation out of his gross remarks, just so he’d keep leaning against the reception desk and you could keep stealing peeks at how the edge of the desk dug into his soft hip.
You weren’t one to defend objectifying people, but it was completely Aegon’s fault for wearing such tight jeans all of the time. Paired with the soft looking sweaters that probably cost more than your utility bill, he just looked so good all of the time.
Maybe it was how you could make out just the faintest shadow of his collarbones when he moved, or how easily you could imagine smearing your lipstick over his blurry jawline, or just maybe it was how badly you wanted to get your hands up under that stupid angora sweater, onto where you were sure he was plush and warm and sensitive.
All things you definitely did not spend company time thinking about, of course.
#house of the dragon#chubby aegon#aegon targaryen#aegon targaryen ii#aegon ii fic#aegon x reader#90s wall street aegon
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Punishments
A/N: lloyd hansen one-shot because I am obsessed with his character. sorry for any mistakes in advance. I tried to capture his character to the best of my abilities.
Synopsis: lloyd kidnaps six's girlfriend to get back at him.
Warnings: violence, torture, rape/non-con, humiliation, kidnapping, hostage situation, manipulation. This is dark. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
Word count: 6.2K
My eyes slowly scan over the parking lot of the restaurant that I work at. The street lights had flicked on and barely illuminated the street beside me. I had worked over eight hours, greeting and waiting on people who would drink until they could barely stand and talk about their next business venture. High end restaurants often brought in many douche-bags, but it also provided me with good money. I would be lying if I said it did not pay off waiting on the old men who would eye up my body and slide me an extra hundred for my ‘services’. I learned to smile and laugh when this would happen, whilst holding in my puke.
Six had told me that I should just quit, and that I would be well provided for. Which was not something that I wanted to do. He was always working, and never really home. I loved him, but I always felt forgotten about. I barely knew anything about what he did, but it raised a few questions when I started to see the scars on his body.
“It’s for your own safety.” He would always say.
Sometimes I felt like it would be safer if I did know what his job was. I knew he worked for the government, and that he needed to be away for awhile. It had been a week since I last saw him, which was unusual.
I had to be shunned from everything in his work field. I was again told that it was for my own safety and security reasons.
Even with Six’s work putting a strain on our relationship, I always found that I completely forgot about it when I was with him. My past relationships had instilled an ungodly amount of insecurities and trust issues upon me. Since being with Six, I had begun to let go of those feelings and worries.
I let out a heavy sigh as my heels clicked against the pavement, removing myself from my thoughts and focusing on finding my car. It was not hard, since there were very few vehicles in the enormous parking lot. I had finished my last table for the night and was ready to get home and crawl into bed.
The night air left my body feeling hot and sticky, clinging to my skin like latex. I could not wait to get out of this dress and eat my leftover Chinese from the night before.
My fingers looped through the keychain that was attached to my car keys, pulling it out of my purse and swinging it back to my side. I pressed the unlock button a few times, hearing the beeping of my car in the distance.
I approached my black Audi, opening the driver side door and sliding in. I slung my purse over and onto the passenger seat, letting out another sigh. This was the first time I was able to sit down all night, except for the rare moments I caught a small break in the kitchen. I realized just how exhausted my legs were now that I was able to sit down. My feet were cramping up in the heels and my calves felt like they were going to collapse under my weight at any second.
My fingers tried to find the push start, fiddling around aimlessly in the dark. The car slowly rumbled to life and I reached around to grab a hold on the seat belt. It extended with a small whine and then stopped immediately, unable to wrap completely to the buckle.
“The fuck?” I said before I felt the excess belt wrap around my neck and pull tight. My hands immediately shot up to my neck, attempting to get the looped belt off of my neck. I strained as I felt it tighten against the soft skin of my neck, digging in painfully with every move I made.
My heeled foot slid off the brake in my panicked state and I went to scream.
It was short and shrill before I felt a sharp tug of the belt, causing me to cough and sputter as I slammed back against the headrest. A groan tried to escape my throat when I hit the seat, hard. I shut my eyes for a moment, trying to get an understanding of my situation.
“Nice car. What is it? 2020 or 2021?” The voice came from the back seat. “It smells new, I would say 2021?” The voice continued as a cold sense of fear washed over my body as I remained silent.
My hands were still fighting with the seatbelt strap, wanting it off my neck.
“Don’t go doing that now, you’re going to hurt yourself.” His voice taunted as my eyes attempted to strain back to look at him. They were widened in panic and my breathing became erratic at the sound of his voice.
The man’s hand fell to my bare shoulder, keeping it there. I felt myself taking large gulps of air and glancing around wildly. “There’s money in my purse and you can take the car.” I rambled out quickly, my chest rising and falling quickly.
The man let out a deep chuckle and tightened his grip on my shoulder, reminding me that he was very much still here and this was not a dream. The cool side of a blade touched my jaw line, but now enough to break the skin. It was a silent threat, causing me to shudder and try to edge myself away from it.
The seat belt strained and the tip of the knife dug further into my neck.
I heard the man click his tongue and tsk at me, almost like he was disappointed in me.
The sound of him sliding closer on the leather seats filled my ears and my eyes darted up to the rearview mirror, where I was able to see a glimpse of his face. His eyes were bright, as if he was smiling at me, but I could not see the rest of his face. I also caught a glimpse of my own terrified eyes, which were illuminated by the dash of my car.
“I don’t want either of those things.” He purred, much closer to me now. His warm breath hit my ear and I could faintly smell chocolate on his breath.
“Then what the fuck do you want?” I whined, straining my head back to remove some of the pressure on my neck. Which only brought me closer to the man that rested directly behind me.
The man hummed. “I want a lot of things, but we’ll get to that soon.” He continued to taunt me, his lips grazing the side of my ear now. His breath was hot and wet, making goosebumps rise up on my bare arms.
I felt my mind shift over to Six for a moment, wondering where he was and what he would do in this type of situation. I also feared that I would not see him ever again after this moment. I wanted nothing more than to be at home with him, anywhere but here.
My eyes moved away from his, looking everywhere but at him. “Awe, you’re so nervous you won’t even look me in the eye, cupcake.” I clenched my jaw at his words and looked back into the mirror, locking eyes with him.
I opened my mouth to scream and tried lurching forward, my hands were reaching for the shifter as I slammed my foot onto the brake.
“Ah, ah. Where do you think you’re going?” The man said, grabbing onto the seat belt once again and pulling it tight again. He exhausted all of the belt and let it whine back up, keeping it tight without him touching it.
His free hand now covered my mouth and pulled me against the seat again. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a woman so eager to get away from me before.” His voice oozed out from beside me and I glared back at him in anger, unable to get any words out.
“You’re going to be a good girl now, or I’m going to put a bullet between those pretty eyes, okay?” The man sounded annoyed and humored all at the same time.
I did not react to his words until his hand squeezed my cheeks together, painfully. “Okay?” He repeated and I forced myself to nod in agreement. A rush of heat came up to my cheeks and I felt humiliated at his actions.
“Now, I think it’s time for you to take a little nap. You’re a bit cranky.” His voice mocked in a high tone as he released my cheeks.
My eyes widened in realization. I tried again, to launch myself towards my purse for my pepper spray that I kept in the console, in one last attempt to escape this strange man, but was caught by the belt. I felt a wet and smelly rag press into my nose and mouth and my head whipped from side to side, trying to get his hand off me. I involuntarily took a deep breath in when he pressed it into me.
“Tell me, does this smell like chloroform?” The man asked, his voice once again mocking me and my current situation. By the tone of his voice and the way his eyes squinted, I knew that he was smiling from ear to ear.
I tried to hold my breath as long as possible. My lungs felt like they were going to burst and I knew I would never be able to get his hand away from me, even with my hands attempting to pry it away from me. My vision began to grow fuzzy and my eyes rolled back as I let the darkness take over.
******** My eyes lazily adjusted to the light as I began to open them. My vision was blurry and gray in some spots. I blinked a few times, trying to get my vision to straighten out. After a few moments, it did. Although, I could feel a raging headache start to creep up behind my eyes.
I shook my head for a moment, trying to gather up as much information as I could. Work. Parking lot. Stranger. Knife. Kidnap. My mind raced with thoughts as I began to glance around. There was a blinding light above me and a dirty ground beneath me.
I tried to pull myself forward to stand, only to find out that I was tied to a chair by my arms and legs. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. My mouth felt dry and I also realized that there was a gag in my mouth, preventing me from screaming.
“Nice of you to finally wake up. Did you have a good nap? Feel refreshed?” A man stepped out from behind me, placing himself in front of me. He was smiling proudly as he looked down at me.
I narrowed my eyes on him as he cocked his head to the side.
“Are you into bondage or anything? I can’t help but note how good you look like this, cupcake.” There it was again, that sick nickname he came up with for me. It made me nauseous every time he said it.
I watched him nervously as he stepped forward and removed the rag from my mouth, dropping it to the ground. I shifted my tongue around freely and swallowed hard, still tasting the bitter rag on my taste buds. I flicked my gaze away from him and noticed my purse sitting on a shiny metal table a few feet from us. It was tipped over and my phone laid there, all out in the open.
“Are you worried your mommy called or something?” The man asked, seemingly understanding what I was thinking. He stepped back into my view as he walked over towards the table, his body standing tall and proud.
“What do you want from me?” I asked, trying to create some saliva in my very dry mouth. The feeling of the rag being stuffed into it was still present. My body was awkwardly tensed on the small chair that I sat on, feeling way too exposed in my current situation.
His back was turned away from me as he rummaged through my purse, throwing the contents all over the table. My eyes moved up and down his body. He was wearing a black turtleneck shirt that was tight around his muscular body and a pair of gray dress pants, along with some god awful loafers. His hair was slicked back and he had a thick mustache above his lip.
The man turned back towards me, his head cocking to the side. “Six.”
I sucked in deeply and frowned, averting my eyes for a brief moment at the sound of his name. “Why would you need me for him? You seem perfectly capable of finding him yourself.” I muttered back to him, rolling my eyes. I tried my best to maintain my composure around this man, something in the back of my head told me that he fed off fear.
The man raised his eyebrows in surprise, his smile widening as he did so.
“He’s your boyfriend, isn’t that right? Where is he?” His back faced the table, which he was now leaning against casually. I refused to answer him, remaining silent. The man’s eyes closed for a moment as he shrugged. “I’ll get it out of you soon enough.” He clicked his tongue and crossed his arms as he eyed me.
I felt a flash of embarrassment. I knew that he was studying every inch of my overly exposed body and it made me feel sick to my stomach. His eyes paused for a moment at my exposed tits, which were shoved up by the bra I was wearing. I watched in humiliation as his eyes then scanned down to my legs, taking in every inch of them. I felt the anger and humiliation nip at my skin, trying to claw its way out. I wanted to make him feel the way he made me feel.
“And you have a horrible mustache.” I felt myself saying it before I could stop myself.
The man’s reaction surprised me. He began to laugh deeply, placing his hand on his stomach and bending his knees slightly. His hand went up to wipe his eye and he shook his head in amusement.
“Oh, you’re too funny!” The man laughed hard, too hard. Confusion washed over my face before I could hide it. I could not even blink before he was leaning over me, his hands placed on the armrest of the chair as he glared down at me. “But a little predictable don’t you think? Not very original.” The man deadpanned, his demeanor changing within a flash.
“I’ll ask this one more time before I resort to measures you won’t particularly enjoy. Where is he?” His threat was clear and promising, his grip on the armrest of the chair tightening.
The warmth of his body was discomforting, his body hovering over mine and making me feel tiny beneath his strong figure.I leaned back into the chair, attempting to create some distance between us. “I’m not telling you anything.” I argued back, knowing that I was testing his limits.
The man’s eyes glistened and he smiled, his shiny white teeth filling up his face. “Have it your way then.” He straightened himself as he began to reach into his pocket. I inhaled deeply, feeling like I could finally breathe again. I glared up at him in defiance, feeling the hatred for this man bubble up in my stomach. I had no idea what he wanted with Six. The less this man knew, the better.
“Lloyd!” A man came rushing through the door, causing us to both break our eye contact.
“What have I said about interrupting me when I’m working!” The Lloyd man spoke, seemingly annoyed. “Can’t you see I have a pretty guest waiting for me?” He shook his head slowly as he walked over to the man who called to him.
He tilted his head to the side as the man whispered something to him. I edged forward in the seat, trying to catch a word of what the man was saying. Lloyd’s eyes widened and he pursed his lips forward. “Who knew it would be that easy to get Six out of hiding with you. Looks like you’re more useful than I thought.” His attention turned back towards me, a toothy grin reappearing on his face.
“I have no idea what you are talking about.” I played stupid as I tried to hide the feeling of fear at the sound of Six’s name. This was new information for me too, I had no idea where Six had been for the past week. My thoughts raced as Lloyd closed the distance between us once again.
“Don’t play dumb. Your boyfriend stole something rather important from me and ran, sunshine. And you’re the perfect leverage to get him out of hiding.” He pointed up and down to me, and I frowned. He knows too much, I cursed.
I looked up at him. “I have nothing to do with this. I haven’t seen him in-”
“A week or so?” Lloyd interrupted me, his smile taunting. I frowned deeper and averted my attention from him. “Does it ever get lonely?” He suddenly asked, taking a step closer to me. His hands were in his pockets and he leaned back slightly, as if he was catching up with an old friend.
“Does it ever get tiring being such a dick?” My eyes lazily flicked back over to him, barely giving him a second gaze before looking away again.
Lloyd’s eyebrows raised once more and he crossed his arms, his smile not changing. “Does it ever get tiring picking shitty boyfriends? Trying to fill the void that daddy left you with? Hm?” He rebutted, crouching down in front of me now. His shoes squeaked on the floor beneath him, adjusting to his new position, he looked up at me with a fake sense of sadness on his face.
My eyes widened for a moment and I sucked in a sharp breath. A new sense of anxiety washed over me now, one that I could not hide due to my shaking body. My teeth were clamped down so hard that I thought I might shatter my teeth. My cheeks heated up with anger and embarrassment. I didn't even want to know how he knew so much about my personal life, or what else he knew about me.
Lloyd was seemingly enjoying my reaction, he fake pouted as he rested his elbows on his knees. “You just can’t catch a break, now can you cupca-” I spat at him before he could finish his sentence. I knew I had met my target when he stiffened for a moment, his eyes closing and his nostrils flaring in anger as he let out a deep breath of air.
I instinctively leaned back in the chair and watched him with a stoic face. He fed off my reactions, and I was not about to feed into his sick mind.
Lloyd reached into his pocket and pulled out a small rag. He dabbed his face slowly, keeping his eyes closed as he breathed slowly, like he was trying to contain his anger. Once he was finished, he tucked it neatly back into his pocket.
His eyes finally opened as he looked back at me, anger flashing within them. “I’m going to gut you like a fish when Six gets here, but not before I kill him in front of you.” His threat immediately took me by surprise and my jaw dropped. So much for not giving him any more reactions.
“I- What? Six is coming here?” I blubbered, my face contorting up in confusion.
Lloyd chuckled, his reaction giving me the answer I needed. I was confused and scared, and he was enjoying every minute of it. His eyes were scanning me up and down, watching me with a new found excitement.
“Awe,” he mocked. “Are you sad our time is coming to an end, cupcake?” My eyes narrowed at his words and I turned my head away from him. This sick, twisted man was going to kill me. The only thing I knew was it involved Six, which is probably why he did not want to tell me much about his job.
“Opposite, actually. I’m glad I won’t have to look at your face anymore.” I twisted my head to the side and huffed. “And you should really consider shaving that thing off your face, you might end up on a sex offender list if you don’t.”
I turned my head back towards Lloyd as I heard him stand up quickly. “You know what, I’m going to enjoy this so much more now.” His words did not register in my brain until I heard the click of a knife. The metal flashed in the light and I flinched back into the seat, half expecting him to make word on his threat.
I squeezed my eyes shut and felt the ropes suddenly loosen from my body. I opened my eyes and in a flash, I was hauled up by my armpits and pressed into the wall behind me. My legs struggled to keep up with his long strides and I let out a small cry of surprise when my back hit the cool metal of the warehouse.
The air knocked out of my lungs and my head collided with the wall. My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, desperately trying to get the air that had escaped my lungs, back inside me.
“Sorry about that, didn’t mean to bash your head there.” Lloyd was pressed into my body, his chest brushing against mine as I swayed slightly. His hand went up to rub the side of my head and I jerked away from him.
My eyes met with his and I groaned. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
Lloyd’s tongue clicked and he chuckled. My arms were pinned to the sides of me, and even with my heels I had to look up at him. “Beautiful dress. Did Six buy this for you?” He let out a breathless sigh as I blushed at his words and turned my head away from him.
His eyes trailed up and down my body, his large hand moving to cup my waist. I shuddered and bit down hard on my lip. I turned my head back towards him, desperately trying to plead with this man silently.
Lloyd’s eyes were filled with excitement and a smirk pulled at his lips, he was once again enjoying my humiliation.
“Sorry to say that I’m going to have to ruin it.” He says as he tucks the knife back into his pocket.
Both his hands touch my waist now, slowly moving their way up to my tits. His eyes hungirly watched over my body like I was a piece of meat. His hands grasp at my breasts, kneading them through the material of my dress. A sigh of surprise leaves my lips and my skin riddles with goosebumps at his touch.
Another rush of humiliation washes over me and I turn my head to the side, no longer wanting to see him smirk at my demise. I squeeze my eyes shut as I hear him groan in satisfaction. My body reacts before I can stop it, I try to buck him away from me, only to have him tut and dig his hips harder into me.
“Are you going to be shy with me now?” He sneers at me, humor filling up his voice.
Lloyd’s hand finds the thin straps of my dress and he rips them in one strong pull. My dress drops slightly, exposing my tits and upper torso. I hear him suck in a sharp breath as he watches my tits bounce slightly from his hands tearing my dress.
“Hm. Would you look at that?” His head tilts to the side as a smirk pulls at his lips, all the while his bright eyes not leaving my chest.
Before I could say anything in response, his hands were cupping my tits again. I began to shake with fear as his thumb slipped into the dark material of my bra and flicked over my erect nipple. His eyes shoot back up to my red and teary ones, giving me a look of surprise.
“That’s a surprise.” His smug voice makes me want to spit at him again, but I decide against that idea almost immediately. “What if I just…” Lloyd mutters to himself as he tugs my bra down, my tits all out in front of him and I cringe.
He palms my exposed chest, his eyes glistening with amusement.
I shrink back into the wall and feel my lip start to quiver. My body was reacting to his touch and I could do nothing to stop it. I knew where he was going with this and there was nothing that I could do to stop him, which didn’t mean I wouldn’t try.
I tried to jam my knee up into his crotch but his reflexes were almost inhuman. His hand left my breast and caught my knee before I could reach my target. I groaned in fear and shook my head frantically.
Lloyd let out a humorless laugh. His hand gripped my thigh tightly as he rammed my leg back down to the ground. I wobbled as he jostled me against the wall, trying to adjust myself on my tall heels.
I sucked in hard when his knee wedged between my thighs, keeping them spread open for him. He leaned down towards me, his mustache tickling the side of my ear as he spoke slowly, “Too slow.” His knee parted my leg further and I cried out in fear.
“No!” I tried to fight back against him, only to have him lean further into me.
I felt Lloyd’s tongue press flat against my collar bone, trailing upwards to the lobe of my ear. His tongue left a trail of saliva on my skin that made me shudder and shrink back into the wall. My face contorted up with disgust and I whimpered.
Lloyd pulled back and looked at me, “Not into that?” He shrugged.
The soft material of his shirt pressed into my tits, rubbing against them every time he swayed or laughed. I knew he could feel it too. One of his hands locked onto my jaw, twisting it to the side as he began to kiss at my neck. While the other trailed down my waist, stopping at the hem of my dress.
“Fuck you!” I managed to cry out after not saying anything for so long.
Lloyd halted his actions and I felt a small vibration against my chest with his laughter.
“If you say so.” His voice was deep and gruff as he gripped onto my shoulders, ripping me away from the wall and taking me down to the ground with him. He landed on top of me and I cried out in pain when my back slammed against yet another hard surface.
“Sorry about the mess,” he said as he glanced around the room. “Maid is away on holidays.” He continued to taunt me as I lay beneath him. I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to look at him. The fatigue had started to take over my body now. My muscles were sore and achy, but I refused to give in.
“Don’t you just look beautiful like this, cupcake.” Lloyd’s voice was deep and lustful, his breath fanned across my face as he spoke.
“You’re a sick man.” I growled back at him, my eyes narrowing dangerously back up at him.
Lloyd’s expression never faltered as he gave another toothy grin. “Never said I wasn’t.” His legs once again found their way between mine, spreading them wide for him. My dress strained due to its tight texture and I heard a few seams pop.
The cool air wafted between my thighs and I tried to close them back up, but Lloyd’s legs were much stronger than mine. His hand found its way between my thighs once again, fiddling with the hem of my underwear. His thumb pressed hard against the thin fabric and he chuckled.
“That’s another surprise.” I frowned in disgust at my own body reacting to this, feeling so ashamed.
His thumb moved up to my clit, rubbing the sensitive bud through my underwear. I bit down on my lip hard, feeling a tear slide down the side of my face. Lloyd’s thumb moved quicker and I started to breathe heavier. I soon felt the cool air hit my pussy as he slipped his middle finger inside me.
My mouth opened his shock as he began working his finger around inside me and on my clit.
“So wet for me, cupcake.” Lloyd groaned deeply, his eyes closing for a moment. “Hear that?” He stopped talking and picked up his movements with his fingers. I frowned in shame when I heard the wet, squelching noises that I was making.
I could barely take anymore of Lloyd’s taunts and my body betraying me.
“You’re loving this, cupcake. I wonder what Six would think if he knew what was happening?” I cried out at Lloyd’s words. His fingers left my heated core, lifting them up in front of my face. As much as I tried to deny the fact I was this wet, his fingers showed otherwise.
I opened and closed my mouth quickly, shaking my head as he watched me with an amused expression.
I suddenly felt his hand grip onto my jaw and his other fingers slam into my mouth. I cried out once again at the intrusion and strained my head back away from him. His fingers prodded around my mouth, making sure that I tasted myself. Lloyd laughed hard at my grimace and shrugged.
“More for me.” My pussy clenched at his words. His fingers retracted from my mouth and found the top of my dress, tearing the rest of it off of me. He bundled them up at the bottom of my legs and pulled at my underwear.
A shrill cry escaped my lips, his face now leering down at me. “Shh, shh.” His fingers pried my mouth open and stuffed my underwear inside. I gagged at the sudden intrusion and snapped my head to the side. My tongue rubbed against the soft material, trying to push it as far away from my throat as possible, so I wouldn’t keep gagging on it. His large hands slammed my jaw back shut, before I could spit it back out at him.
“That’s better, don’t you think?” He let out a heavy sigh and trailed his eyes along my body. His hands moved to find the buckle of his belt, the sickening sound snapping me back to reality as I laid there, stunned.
My body ached from holding up his weight for so long. I could feel my legs starting to cramp and my arms grow weak from all the fighting.
I couldn’t help but glance down as Lloyd moaned from above me. His cock sprung out freely, glistening with precum as he stroked himself. My body went cold and I tried to move back from him, only to earn a sharp glance from him.
“Now then.” I watched Lloyd wipe the sweat that had formed on his forehead. He leaned forward with a grunt and gripped onto my shoulder, flipping me over onto my stomach without so much of an ounce of struggle. My arms lay in front of me, outstretched and clawing at the floor. My tits press into the cold floor, sending another shiver down my back.
“You’re not going anywhere.” Lloyd warned as he pulled me back towards him. His hands grip at my waist, pulling my bare ass towards his cock. Saliva suddenly hits my bare pussy and I jump at the feeling. I feel his finger enter me once again, another joining soon after. My walls were stretching to their capacity and I groaned at the foreign intrusion.
“So wet for me.” He moaned. His fingers dug into my waist, keeping me flat against his body while his fingers thrusted in and out of me. My back arched awkwardly, trying to relieve some of the pressure that it was under.
“Lloyd!” I tried to cry out through the gag, but it sounded muffled.
His fingers curled inside me, my walls clenched around him and my face pressed into the cool floor. “You feel so good.” His voice purred from behind me as he pulled his fingers out from me. My head strained back to look at him.
“Don’t look at me with those pretty doe eyes when I’m fucking you like this.” He grunted as he placed his cock at my entrance. My eyes widened and I whimpered, trying to move my ass away from him.
Lloyd slapped my ass hard, the sting registering immediately and my ass reddening at his action. My ass slumped back against him as he rested his cock at my entrance. Without warning, he slammed into me. A sharp cry escaped my throat and fresh tears poured out of my eyes. Lloyd let out a loud and satisfied grunt, his thrusts not relenting.
My tight walls tried to adjust to his size, straining under the feeling of this throbbing cock entering me so hard and fast. My nails dig into the floor underneath me, trying to scramble away from the force being applied to my cervix.
“Oh no you don’t.” Lloyd catches me with one hand, bringing me back towards him. His hand tangles its way through my hair and he tugs my head back. My neck strains and I cry out. I open my mouth and push the gag out of my mouth, gasping for air.
“Please, stop this.” I cried, feeling his movement pick up as he slammed into me, over and over.
I was panting for air as he seemingly ignored my pleas.
My tits bounced as he rubbed his pelvis against my ass, digging into the soft skin painfully hard. My pussy feels like it's being split open and I cry out once more, wanting him out of me. My walls burn like fire and my body screams at me for release.
I feel Lloyd’s hands on my shoulders once more, flipping me over onto my back. My lips part in surprise, but only for a moment. Lloyd’s movements do not cease as he quickly leans down towards me. His lips meet mine, hard. My eyes snap open in surprise and I groan at the feeling. His mouth moved hard and sloppily against mine, his tongue invading my mouth and swirling around.
I bite down hard when I catch his bottom lip between my teeth, feeling the skin break beneath my canines and blood fill my mouth.
Lloyd cries out in surprise and pulls away from me. This time, he stopped his movements. His fingers touched his red lips, looking down at the blood on his fingers. His brows furrowed in anger and a low rumble came from his throat. His angry eyes meet back down to mine, looking at me with a whole new sense of rage.
“You stupid bitch!” Lloyd’s hand wraps completely around my throat, cutting off my air supply immediately. My lips burn from his mustache and his blood sits on my tongue, leaving a metallic taste.
“You want it rough? I’ll give it to you rough.” His hand tightens around my neck and my mouth hangs open.
He slams into me harder now, the sound of flesh hitting flesh filling up the room. His cock rams into my core hard, making me cry out in agony and throw my head back. His hand never leaves my throat and I can feel my vision grow spotty. Before I can black out, his hand leaves my throat and pinches my nipple hard. He lowers himself down, sucking and biting down at the sensitive bud.
“You like to bite? So do I.” He growls and brings his hand back down to my clit. I feel him take the throbbing numb in between his two fingers and squeezing hard. My body jerks forward and I scream out louder, feeling a rush of heat up to my chest.
Lloyd continues to suck and nibble at my nipples, moaning to himself. “You taste so good.”
I cringe at his words and twist my body.
Time feels like it has slowed as his movements grow sloppy and more erratic. My vision blurs with tears and I feel them soak my cheeks. His cock twitches and throbs as he cums inside me, feeling me up with his hot and thick liquid.
His cock slips from my pussy, along with some of his cum, which had spilled down my thighs and onto the floor. I feel him push himself off me and stand up. My vision sways as I stare up at the bright lights.
“Let’s see what Six thinks of this.” Lloyd laughs.
#lloyd hansen#the gray man#lloyd hansen smut#lloyd hansen x reader#chris evans characters#sierra six#obsession#dark fantasy#lloyd hansen x you
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Try Again | Part 2
Tom Gurney X Fem | Reader
Summary: Tom thinks he completely ruined it this time, there has to be a way to make it up to (Y/n) and fix everything.
Part 1 is HERE
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Tom has been all down in the dumps. At least his friends think so. Wade made them believe that he had a crush on a girl, which... was not... untrue? He wants to get to know her, he would pick on her specifically to get her attention. He was too much of a chicken to say something. Now she hates him, he is sure of that. And it upsets him so much that not even torturing helpless freshmen can make him feel better about himself.
"Make it up to her, then?" Wade seems to have learned nothing at all from the last time he tried to give Tom advice. Tom had his head in his hands just before looking up at his friend to glare daggers at him. "I should punch the stupid out of you..." Tom threatens, his glare sharpening at his friend. "I didn't say how yet?" Wade continues, holding up his hands in defence. Tom sighs and rests his head back in his hands. What to do? What to do? It's been so long since he felt bad about intimidating someone. How is he supposed to deal with that now? "Maybe beat up someone for the-""Okay, you're not helping!" Tom stands up and cuts Wade off and walks away from his stupid friend to get some peace of mind and think clearly. ~~~~ The freshmen were quick to stay out of his way or even straight-up run away once they see him wander. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his pants and his shoulders tense. He is mad at himself for messing up so badly, if only he could talk to her like a normal person then it would have been fine, wouldn't it? His mindless wander lands him by the football field and gymnasium. The turf of the Jocks. Lucky for Tom, the Jocks don't mess with the Bullies, because they have Russel on their side. He can pummel all the other cliques with ease. The Jock still glares at Tom as he traverses their turf aimlessly. Kirby is so much shorter than Tom, he doesn't stand a chance if he tries anything. But Tom isn't really in the mood for fighting. Usually, it's rather tranquil by the football field, but there is some commotion by the field itself that sparks his curiosity. He is not the only one at this, some other random kids run in the direction of the sounds to see what is going on. Tom is intrigued and jogs in the same direction as everyone else to see what is going on. The group of kids are crowding around some others, he has to push through some kids to be able to see what is happening. And when he got to see, his blood ran cold. It was (Y/n): being intimidated by Juri, of all people. Juri looks ready to physically attack (Y/n) for reasons that are unknown to Tom. Some kids were encouraging a fight between a girl and a boy. "Why don't you just leave her alone!" he can hear that girl Nerd say loudly with fear evident in her voice. Did Juri harrass (Y/n)? He doesn't know what had happened before, all he knows is that he doesn't want to see (Y/n) get hurt by some brainless football-obsessed nobody. Tom pushes past more students to approach the angry-looking Jock, and just before he could lay a hand on (Y/n), Tom grabs the Jock's arm and pulls it back roughly. Forcing Juri to turn around and face him. "Nobody gets to pick on (Y/n) but me!" Tom growls in Juri's face and before Juri could reply, Tom snatched (Y/n)'s arm and drags her along with him away from the crowd. Tom prays that the Jocks are following them. "You?!" (Y/n) sounds genuinely surprised that it was Tom Gurney that saved her from such a sticky situation. Tom eventually stopped walking once he took (Y/n) safely to the parking lot, the Bullies' turf. Then he let her arm go, hoping he didn't squeeze her too hard. He shuffles around awkwardly for a bit, not sure of what to say to her. He watches her dust off her uniform and takes a deep breath as she calms down. "You uh... You alright?" Tom asks sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. It takes (Y/n) a moment to reply to him. Still messing with her clothes while seemingly looking for something to say. "Err... Yeah... I'm okay." She finally replies slowly, looking at the Bully with suspicion. Tom can tell that she is still weary of him, and he doesn't blame her for that. He had really scared her the last time they interacted. "What happened?" he asks, watching (Y/n) get slightly more uncomfortable. She shrugs, "I really shouldn't have strayed on Jock turf, you know?" She says, kicking a loose pebble off the asphalt. "I did do much other than talk back to Juri when he started to shout at me." (Y/n) explains honestly, her posture showing shame. As if she is being scolded by her mother or something. "You really shouldn't run your mouth to those Major-League-wannabes." Tom chortles at his own joke. (Y/n) joins in with an awkward laugh of her own. "yeah... I really got in trouble with that." She rubs the back of her neck. "But then you showed up! And with your sudden change of heart, you helped me out!" She cheers and points at Tom with intrigue. "And I have to say thank you for that." She smiles at him! She actually smiles at him! And it's the best smile he has ever seen. The uplifting features on her face alone could make him feel better. "Yeah, uh... It's cool." He replies shyly, not sure how to accept the gratitude of the one girl he used to bully. This feels like the right moment, maybe Wade was right after all? Has she made it up to her yet? No, not yet. But he is almost there, and then maybe he'll feel better about himself. Once he has made peace with the one thing that has been eating at him for a while; The guilt. ~~~~ (Y/n) and Tom continued with the awkward conversation, sitting on a nearby bench together. (Y/n) observed as the Bully kicked his shoes off, and he wasn't wearing socks. This is the second time that she had witnessed him do something like this. And the curiosity is getting to her. "Why did you take your shoes off?" She asks politely, pointing at his bare feet. Tom shrugs, "Shoes are uncomfortable." He replies casually. It's not the most detailed answer that she had expected, but it's an answer that she can respect. "Okay." She replies. Then it's quiet again, both parties are unsure of how to talk to each other. Tom has the chance to apologize, there won't come a more perfect moment than this. Now, now! Do it now, stupid! "Listen, (Y/n)..." He begins, toying with the hem of his loose shirt. "I, uh..." He stammers, god this is hard. Where does he even start? (Y/n) looks at him, waiting for him to explain himself. "I...I am sorry... I'm sorry for picking on you. I didn't know how to talk to you..." He finally manages to stammer out. The look she gives him is incredulous. "You didn't know how to talk to me?" She asks with an amused expression. Tom nods and gulps, this is not going the way he wanted. "Well." She begins, changing her posture; leaning back and crossing her legs. "You were more annoying than anything, but the last time you cornered me was scary." she continues. That hits the Bully in the chest, "Again, I'm sorry!" He almost pleads, making her laugh. "And you're forgiven, really!" she says to calm him down. "How about we start over?" (Y/n) suggests and stands up, Tom follows. She then holds out her hand for him to shake, "My name is (Y/n). What's yours?" She asks with a smile. Tom returns that smile and reaches to take hold of her hand. His hand feels sweaty to her. "I'm Tom. Nice to meet you." He replies. He feels a lot better than he did before, but he feels he needs to do more to make it up to her. _________________________________________ Quite difficult to set up a good plotline here. But this feels good, Tom got to redeem himself a bit. Thanks for reading.❤️ - Smilex🙂
#bully scholarship edition#bully x reader#x reader#reader insert#tom gurney#tom gurney x reader#imagines#fluff#fanfiction
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Can't help but stare!!! Ben Marshall X Reader (Smut!!!!!!!!!!!!)
A/N- Hi!!!!!!!!!!! We both wrote a lot of this and it's something that's been rattling around in my head ever since I saw someone say Ben Marshall was their T.A
Warning! : This fanfiction is smut, only read if you are 18++
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Your cheeks heat up as your T.A looks up from grading papers and catches your eye. He's really cute, you think for the umpteenth time as you tear your eyes away from him and focus on your professor. Your heart had skipped when you walked in on the first day of the semester and he had introduced himself to your class, Ben Marshall, Senior, performance comedy major. Something about his red hair and the fact that he's well over six feet tall makes your cheeks redden when he meets your eye,
You need to stop staring at him, Ben's caught you more times than you can count and you’re sure he can tell the way your heart beats faster when he hands back papers and his fingertips brush against yours. Once, he complimented you as he passed you an essay and you could feel your cheeks heating up under his gaze. You felt embarrassed, having a crush on your T.A. was the kind of thing that happened to people in middle school, not their sophomore year of college. Still, you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift over to him as you daydreamed about his big hands and pretty smile.
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It’s a saturday night and you’re at a sweaty house party, the music is loud and the walls feel sticky with sweat and spilled drinks when you brush against them. Your friend you came with drags you by the arm to the kitchen, she’s yelling into your ear but it’s still nearly impossible to hear her and you’re too drunk to tell her.
“Do you want another drink?” she yells to you, pouring vodka and fruit punch into a sticky red solo cup.
“No thanks” you yell “I need to go outside for a minute, it’s really hot in here”. You point to the door and she nods as you walk past her out the back door onto the porch. Surprisingly, you’re not alone, and your heart skips a beat as you step outside and notice Ben sitting on a lawn chair. He looks up as you slide the door shut behind you.
“Hi” he says, blinking as he half stands up, stumbling slightly and grabbing the back of his chair for support. “Wow, if it isn’t great to see my favorite… student”
“God, you don’t have to do that, please… don’t do that, it doesn't matter” you say, sitting down next to him and leaning back. Taking a slow breath in and out as he sinks back down into the chair, mimicking your breath.
“God, thank you, I’m way too drunk for that right now.” he sighs, going limp as he tilts his head back. Internally, you’re losing it. This is the kind of thing you’ve only dreamt of, sitting outside at a party half-drunk with your hot as fuck T.A. and you can’t help but indulge yourself.
You turn your head to look at him, letting your eyes wander,drinking in the details of Ben Marshall as you stare at him as intently as you do in class. He turns his head towards you. catching your eyes lingering on him for what feels like the millionth time. You turn your head quickly, your ears feeling hot as he breaks out into a grin.
When you turn back to him he’s unabashedly staring at you, a smile curving his lips as you meet his eyes.
“You were staring at me” he teases you as your cheeks heat up. You look away, fuck, he finally called you out, after months of you shamelessly eyeing him up.
“I’m sorry” you mumble, turning away from him self-consciously.
“Don’t be” he says, cupping your face and turning it towards his before leaning in. The chair beneath him squeaks loudly as he leans closer to you, pulling you in for a searing kiss. His lips are soft beneath yours as you reach a hand up to thread through his hair, pulling him closer to you. Ben groans softly into your mouth as you bite his bottom lip, licking into his mouth hungrily. This was what you had wanted all those hours you had spent staring at him in class, daydreaming about him as he graded papers and you ignored your teacher’s lectures.
The two of you separate for air and he half pushes you out of your own chair and pulls you closer to him, you straddle his lap as you lean in to kiss him again. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush to him as he kisses you back deeply, making your knees feel weak. Ben kisses you until you’re breathless, pulling back gently and smiling at the way you chase his lips with yours.
“Do you want to go back to my apartment?” he asks you in one breath. His hair is messy and he’s slightly out of breath, his hands gently holding you in place on his lap. You nod enthusiastically, sliding off of his lap as he gives you that smile that makes you completely melt.
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Ben opens his door for you, leaning down to kiss you the second you’re both inside, gently pressing your back up against his door. He kisses down to your neck, loving the way you softly moan as he attaches his soft lips to your pulse point. Your body responds to his touch fervently, grinding your hips against his desperately as he kisses as much of your bare skin as he can reach.
“Fuck” he whispers into your neck as you pull him closer to you.
“I want this, fuck, I want you, please Ben” you moan into him as you twine your fingers through his hair, taking note of the way his breath hitches as you harshly grind into his hips.
His mattress is soft against your back as his hands trail over your body, gentle, but eager, sliding up under your shirt and over your thighs. You can feel how bad he wants this, can feel the way he clings to you and moans against you. Knowing that you have the man who you’ve daydreamed about moaning for you makes your heart flutter. Ben’s hands hungrily roam your body, touching you exactly where your skin burns.
“God, will you please fuck me” you moan as he kisses your neck once again, his soft lips teasing you.
“I love the way you beg for me” he groans softly into your neck before slowing his actions, reaching past you to rifle through his nightstand’s drawer. Grabbing and unwrapping a condom as he leans back in to kiss you, nipping your bottom lip with his teeth as he lines himself up with your entrance.
“Please” you moan against his mouth as he sinks into you, groaning lowly into your ear as he bottoms out. He’s still for a second before he slowly drags his hips away from yours, still for a second before he thrusts into you, whining into your neck. Ben speeds up his thrusts, continually kissing your mouth and neck as he tells you how good you feel while you cling to his shoulders, nails digging into his soft skin.
He grabs at the pillows while pounding into you, the sound of your thighs slapping together getting louder and louder.
“Fuck you feel so good oh my god,” he groans into your ear. All you can do is moan in response with how hard he’s fucking into you. You lock eyes and immediately grab his face and bring him closer with a deep kiss. He moans in your mouth as you tug on his hair. You break for air as he groans , “Fuck if we keep doing that I’m going to cum so fast,”he says loudly, pulling semi-out. You whine at the loss of contact before grabbing his shoulder and straddling him.
“Holy shit,” Ben curses as you swivel your hips on top of him, making him throw his head back. The sight of him so fucked out makes the pit in your stomach burn as you approach your orgasm. “I’m gonna cum, oh fuck fuck,” you curse out, every word punctuated by your bodies slapping together. “Fuck so am I, cum with me,” Ben responds as he places his thumb on your clit and begins making small fast circles. You both cum with a cacophony of loud groans and curses as you ride out your orgasms. A whine leaves Ben’s lips as you get off of him and break contact. “Come here, fuck that was so good,” he says softly, as he brings you close to him warm body, petting your hair gently. You curl closer to him, and he wraps an arm around you, kissing your forehead gently.
#please dont destroy#please dont destroy fanfic#x reader#fanfic#ben marshall#ben marshall x reader#please dont destroy x reader#ben marshall smut#smut fanfic
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Shards of the Nexus: Applesauce pt. 4
Everybody tries.
@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions
?~?~?~?~?
The time whizzed by as he wondered what he was going to do now.
“You baleful, deleterious, idle-brained douche bag! “
Oh. Die, that's what.
He turned just in time for Narci to grab him roughly by the shirt. The kid was shorter than him by a decent amount, but strong enough to twist his head off, and he felt his toes leave the floor.
“Hey, watch the threads!” he protested in a watery voice. Narci shook him like a rattle.
“Fuck your threads! I'll burn down your closet! I'll burn down your whole life!” Narci exclaimed, then shuddered so hard, his black ponytail shook. He set Swag back down, very carefully, and released his clothes. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. But just...how could you? You're supposed to be the best of us. How could you?”
“I'm not the best of anything, Narci.” Swag said, leaning against the bar to let his heart rest, ignoring the sticky mess that still dripped. “I'm not a role model. Not really. I'm a fuckup in good clothes. I mean, it's not that I don't try, it's that when I make mistakes, they are really big mistakes that get people hurt. Helix. Harvey. Puzzles. You. Fuck, I coulda done something for you, way back. But I turned you away. I was too busy pretending I had no obligation to anyone else but myself to see how everything was connected. That I could at least try to help someone who should have been like a little brother. I...the idea of me is far better than the actuality of me.”
“Swag. You know you couldn't have really done anything for me back then, right? I would have just killed you instead.” the wavering tone was back, a permanent feature in his voice. “Mine was a sickness that couldn't be cured with human hands. And part of me is missing now. I didn't come back whole. Maybe I'm better this way. But you...why did you hurt her? I don't understand that. Her hand is so badly burned that our medicines did nothing! She was crying so much, and she couldn't actually tell me. What did you do? And why?”
“It wasn't supposed to go down like this. It was supposed to...I don't even know. I never meant it to hurt her, I'd never...I'd never mean to do that. I just started thinking down the wrong road, and I got swept away. I try not to do that. It always goes bad. Now, I know a lot of you think I've allowed myself to dumb down, and Unswag doesn't hesitate to point out that I don't allow myself to think, but-”
“It's an attempt at self control.” Narci stated. “I know. I know.”
Narci's new eyes had been pleas for help since the moment he'd opened them. Swag believed him.
“Got paranoid. Got serious about it. Got this dumb thing.”
Swag showed Narci the little wire. He'd twisted it around his left ring finger, like a true fool.
Narci, possessed of the simian curiosity writ large in Edwards Nigma the multiverse over, grasped his hand for a better look.
For the next few minutes, Swag held Narci's lifeless body in his arms, whispering grief and apology. If Helix had been mad at him before, she really was going to turn him inside out now. She was ready to fistfight Satan himself for this kid.
The doorbell rang.
This was the worst possible time. He was in mourning, damnit! Who could even be at his door at this hour?
Swag stared up into the dark cowl, panic thumping in his blood. There was a body in his parlour. He was wearing contraband. He'd been hiding a second self. Not to mention possession of controlled substances, and the aiding and abetting of known criminals from other universes. Surely any of that would be enough to put him away again. Maybe forever and ever this time.
“What could you possibly want?” Swag asked, trying to keep his voice from trembling. He was pretty sure his hammering pulse was loud enough to be heard.
“The Nth metal, Nigma. Where is it? Why do you have it?”
“Oh this thing? This fuckin' thing? You can have it!” Swag yanked it from his finger and flung it into the parking lot. “Take it! I never wanna fuckin' see it again. Worthless scrap of shit. You want it, go get it, just leave me alone. I don't want nothin' to do with it.”
He slammed the door shut. And waited.
It didn't smash back open in his face, so it looked like he'd been taken at face value. The wire would be gone; no matter where it landed, it would be found. And good riddance.
He turned, then flung himself back against the door, heart in his throat choking off a scream. Narci's body lurched down the hall towards him, flopping and stumbling like a puppet on very loose strings.
“Narci?” Swag whispered. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sor-”
He mumbled over and over again, growing hoarser and more urgent with every shuffling step closer, until it became a hyperventilating plea as Narci pressed his drooling, slack-jawed face against Swag's chest.
“Could...n't...get...back...in...while...you...were...touch...ing...me...” The words escaped from Narci's mouth, each syllable a labored puff of air.
“I'm sorry.”
“At...least...you...grieved...”
Ooh, ooh, that cut. Because the first time, he hadn't.
No one had.
Guilt choked him silent once more, and Swag carefully, cautiously curled his arms around the boy's shoulders. Maybe he should have done this sooner. Maybe years ago.
But the second best time was now.
“D-does it hurt?”
“No...can't...feel...an...y...thing...”
“That actually sounds worse.”
“Yes...”
“Anything I can do?”
“Must...go...home...”
Swag helped him to the special door, and let him slip through, just like Helix did. It seemed the way was still closed only to Swag himself.
There was a lot of cleaning up to do, partially gelled apple goop, a broken mirror. It smelled so good that it hurt; his favorite apples reduced to a soup of memories that would now never be made. Forced to mop up what should have been a sweet song on his tongue, no more than a paraklausithyron to the world now barred to him.
He glanced at the sky while taking the trash out. Cloudy, as usual. Starlight was the rarest commodity in Gotham. Would he ever see it again?
Swag tested the door over and over during the next few days, even under the scorn of his pale twin, with whom he'd gotten into a terrible row upon returning. Just like old times.
Back and forth and back and forth, until a small hand reached out and pulled him through.
That nauseating, semi-familiar feeling of falling without moving. Stomach twisted around his spine, blood in the brain and feet, and the unbreakable, all-encompassing cold.
An eternity in an hourglass, then a shocking blast of humid heat. His glasses fogged as he gasped, gulping in the warming air.
Clutching his pinkie finger was a tiny, blue-eyed doll of a child, a little girl who, aside from her barely contained mass of curly orange hair, clearly resembled a miniature Helix.
“Hey there, Maddie-mads.” he said, taking in the lush garden around him. “How're you doing today?”
“I'm okay.” she said in her chipper, squeaky little voice. “But you're not. Momma's not either”
“Ah. I imagine not. Did she, uh, say why?”
Maddie shook her head.
“She said she made a mistake and she doesn't know how to fix it. Can you help?”
Swag rubbed the back of his neck.
“I'm...not sure this time, kiddo. I might make it worse.”
Her expression said that she didn't believe that for a second. The unwavering faith of a child. He'd had that once too. He hoped she would be able to keep it longer than he had.
It looked like he had to try.
Maddie held her hands in the air, and Swag scooped her up into his arms without really thinking about it. He looked out over Helixs hand built garden home, with its improbable, Escheresque landscapes, and soaring, vaulted glass sky. He had only been here a few times, and never very deep into the gardens, but he knew that space was warped and folded in unexpected ways; recursive paths and nested areas that one could easily get lost in forever.
He had never built a more perfectly horrifying maze. Here, if he lost his way, there was enough food and water that he could wander for the rest of his life, slowly losing hope, descending into madness. Surrounded by Eden, yet utterly, helplessly trapped.
It was frightening. She was frightening. All of this and everything about it was terrifying. It was.
And so was he. And so was Unswag, and everything he represented. And so was Arkham's undying bloodthirst, the direction Narci was taking, Puzzles' new lease on life, Nash's growing involvement with literal demons. The things YJ had almost gotten involved in, the disease that had nearly taken Detective. This whole big tightly tangled Nexus. Knowledge of the multiverse itself.
It was all an ever-expanding cosmic dread, bearing down on all their shoulders, and they each had to figure out how to handle it, because it wasn't going away.
He could look at Helix as a representative of that dread, or he could see her as yet another person upon whose shoulders that weight rested. See her as an alien being, like the Grays, or as a familiar woman whose warmth he had tasted. He could destroy a good thing, like he always did, or he could finally cherish what he actually had.
This could be his last chance.
Madeline guided him along the color-coded pebble paths, a labyrinth perhaps only she and her mother truly knew by heart. Greenery, flowers, and fruits burst joyfully on every side. An artificial stream meandered through the young trees and under small bridges. Little waterfalls trickled, and fish flashed in the water. Here and there stood a carved log, stacked rocks, suncatchers, and circles of standing stones.
Birds chirped and flitted about, Every now and then he saw a chicken, heard the braying of a goat somewhere.
Over the top of it all, a song floated like perfume on the breeze, a pair of voices entwined in haunting harmonies. One of them was Helix, naturally, of course she could sing. That was practically required of a sorceress, wasn't it?
That meant that the other voice had to be Narci, didn't it? Swag would never have guessed the kid could hold a tune, much less that his reedy, wavering voice could produce such enchanting sounds.
Maddie, cradled securely at shoulder level, loosed her own voice into the air. A string of notes akin to the birdsong, that particular pitch that only children could achieve fitted into the music with improvised ease.
Song swam through his mind. It was a compulsion, to add his voice, add himself in. To become part of the music, complete it.
He could not find the notes.
He was led to a clearing, a community center of sorts. This was a place Swag had been before. Under a tall arbor of blooming vines, tables and chairs, set up for a meal. Narci, his black curls crowned with flowers, Helix in her frilly apron, setting out the dishes. The song dying on both their lips as they noticed him approach.
Narci scowled, but Helix just gazed back at him, her expression apprehensive. Her hand was still bandaged. Narci had said that no medicine had worked on the injury.
Words clogged his throat, each one begging to be said, but reluctant to be the first.
Madeline squealed happily at the sight of the meal, and Swag put her down. She rushed over to Narci, who swept her up and sat her into her bright purple booster chair.
Swag swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.
“Starlight...” he managed.
“I'll set another place at the table.” Helix said.
artists: @captainbaddecisions @miasmacaron @cardwrecks
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I Would Do Anything For Love
Click on the title to read on AO3
It was his first day of college. He sat in the large auditorium, surrounded by hundreds of people. The noise was already getting to be nigh unbearable, but he just had to get through a few more years of this. After that, he could do whatever he wanted. Jason sighed quietly and pulled out his notebook.
“Hey, is this seat taken?”
Jason looked up into a friendly, open face. He shook his head once and returned his attention to his notebook.
“I’m David Rossi, by the way.” The friendly face said. Apparently it was attached to a hand somehow, as the hand patted his arm and then extended itself in a customary greeting. Jason nodded sharply.
“Jason Gideon.” He made no attempt to take the outstretched hand. It was bound to be warm, and soft, and inviting, and Jason needed none of those things. The face alone was going to be enough to haunt his dreams.
At the front of the lecture hall, a middle-aged man walked up to the lectern. “Ahem!” he said loudly, alerting at least some of the students to his presence. What followed was a wave of people tapping each other on the shoulder and pointing to the small figure behind the lectern. It took a few minutes, but eventually the large hall fell quiet. “Good, good,” the man continued in that same, loud tone. “I am Professor Wilkins, good to meet you all. I’m sure I won’t have to remember all of your names because I’m certain a fair few of you won’t be here for very long…”
Jason pressed his lips together. He was going to be here. Every day, if he had to. He was going to do whatever it took to get through this and then, he smiled to himself, he was going to become a psychoanalyst and help people. He pulled his notebook closer and focused all of his attention on taking good notes.
Beside him, Friendly Face scribbled along too, though not quite as diligent as he did. Jason allowed himself a moment to peek at the other man’s notes and realized that they both approached the lecture material from an entirely different angle. He dutifully continued taking his own notes, occasionally wondering which notes Friendly Face was taking.
As the lecture drew to an end, he grabbed his notebook and pencil case and stuffed them back into his bag. “Hey, wait up,” he called after Friendly Face as he scooted out of his seat. “I was wondering,” Jason said against his better judgment, “would you like to compare notes?
+_+
It’d been nearly three weeks since that first lecture. Jason walked back to their table with two mugs of beer in his hand; punishment for getting David’s question wrong. The beer sloshed around, but enough of it remained in the mugs that Jason didn’t care. “Alright,” he said, as he plonked the mugs down on the sticky table. “My turn.” He thought about it for just a moment before smiling at his friend. “According to Freud, the unconscious mind is defined as what?”
David laughed. He took a swig of his beer and hiccuped. “I know you’re getting drunk if you’re throwing me the easiest questions you can think of. The unconscious mind is defined as a reservoir of feelings, thoughts, and urges. Oh!” he quickly added as Jason reached out to slam the table. “That’s not all! Also memories that you’re not consciously aware of.”
Jason pulled his hand back and took a sip of his own beer. “How is it that a bloody criminal psychology student knows Freud almost as well as I do?”
David leaned his shoulder against Jason’s shoulder and gave him a conspiratorial look. “I study,” he said calmly. “A lot. With you.”
Right, Jason nodded to himself. “Really?” he said out loud. “I thought most of your time was taken up by dicking around trying to stack my books in ridiculous ways.”
David shrugged. “You have too many books.”
“No such thing as too many books,” Jason said decidedly. Inwardly, he wondered how much longer David was going to lean against him.
“Too many books,” David insisted, pressing up against Jason a little tighter. “Not enough room for anything else.”
“That part is not my fault. That’s just because the bloody dorm rooms are so tiny.”
“That, they are.” David sighed and rested his head against Jason’s. “And my roommate is a total putz. And not the funny kind, either. Yesterday he tried to heat a can of corn over a candle, only to fall asleep and nearly set the whole dorm on fire.”
Jason gave his friend a comforting pat on the back. “Mine isn’t so bad,” he murmured. “He’s never there, so I basically have the room to myself.”
“Lucky you,” David muttered.
Jason nodded slightly. He didn’t know what to say. All he knew for certain was that he never wanted this moment to end. He let out a silent sigh. After all his careful avoiding he’d found himself exactly where he always said he’d never end up; hopelessly falling for a guy who couldn’t possibly return his feelings.
+_+
The next year saw them renting a small apartment together. Technically speaking it only had one bedroom, but David put up a shower curtain to make it two. Jason looked at the almost-sheer fabric, feeling a little uncomfortable with the plan. David didn’t seem to notice.
“Which side do you want?” he asked. “You can either have the window or the door.”
Jason thought about it for a moment before choosing the door. The thought of having to walk past David as he lay asleep was a little too much for him. David beamed at him before dragging his suitcase over to the other side of the room.
“This is nice,” David said as he set to unpacking his clothes. “I kinda like the idea of sleeping by the window.”
“Then why didn’t you say so? It’s not like I care so much,” Jason grumbled. He hated that he couldn’t just talk to David, that he couldn’t just be open with the other man. But he knew it would only lead to trouble.
“Well, I convinced you to room with me, didn’t I? The least I should do is allow you to choose which side of the room you want.”
Jason nodded to himself. “I guess that makes sense.” He dropped his duffel bag onto the bed and opened the dresser next to it, stuffing handfuls of socks and underwear haphazardly into the top drawer. From where he stood, if he turned his head just so, he could easily make out the form of David Rossi. The light from the window behind him shone through the shower curtain; it showed Jason a soft outline of the man that never seemed to leave his thoughts. He briefly wondered how much he’d be able to see when David changed his clothes, then violently shook his head to get rid of those thoughts. It wasn’t right, he told himself. David had done nothing to deserve this.
“Hey, when we’re done here, wanna go grab some food?”
Jason didn’t look up from his work, stuffing some T-shirts into the next empty drawer. “I thought we got a place with a kitchen so that we could save money on eating out?”
“Well, yeah… but I don’t feel like cooking tonight. I’m tired,” David whined softly. “Walking those four flights of stairs every day is gonna kill me.”
“If we eat out, you have to walk them again today,” Jason murmured as he reached for the small stack of folded pants.
“I suppose that’s true…” David sighed. “Is it okay with you if I go take a shower? I promise I’ll fix us something for dinner after.”
“Go for it,” Jason said. “I’ll make dinner, so it’ll be ready by the time you’re done with your shower.” He heard Rossi pull back the curtain and looked up. Jason didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it sure as hell wasn’t this. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of David Rossi, naked as the day he was born.
“Thanks,” he said as he walked past Jason. “You’re a real lifesaver.” He left the room before Jason had time to fumble out a reply, crossing the narrow hallway and stepping into their tiny bathroom without so much as a look back. It was clear that David didn’t realize what he’d stirred inside his best friend. And Jason would die before admitting it.
+_+
Jason looked at David across the small table. “You’re really gonna do this?”
David shrugged as he stuffed half a pastrami sandwich into his mough. “Yeah,” he said after he’d swallowed his food. “Yeah, I am.”
“Why?” It was the question that had been burning in Jason’s heart ever since David had first brought up this crazy – nay, insane idea of his. “Why would you do this to yourself?”
David pulled back a little, placing the all-but-devoured sandwich back on the its wrapper. “What do you mean, Jason? I can help people! You want to help people, don’t you? That’s why you want to be a psychoanalyst. We could use someone with your skills and outlook, Jason! We could really use you. Hell, I want you to come with me!”
Jason let out a short breath. He shook his head lightly, unsure what to say to those words. “I’ll… I’ll think about it,” he eventually muttered before getting up and tossing his wrapper in the bin.
“The deadline’s tomorrow, Jason!” David called after him as he left their favorite sandwich place. This would probably be the last time they ever ate here together, Jason thought as he squinted against the bright sunset. He wished it had been a happier occasion. But he simply couldn’t celebrate the fact that he would probably never see his friend again. If he didn’t get buried up to his neck in work, he’d probably get shot at some point. Jason sighed.
He instinctively walked into the small park where they’d spent so many sunny afternoons quizzing each other, helping each other study, and talking about their dreams and plans for the future. David had never mentioned this before. It started just last week. And in just one week, they’d drifted further apart than Jason could’ve ever imagined. He sat down on a bench and buried his head in his hands.
Four years. Four years he’d known him; they’d lived together for three. They spent all their free time together. Sometimes they studied, other times they just talked. He was going to miss the philosophical and ethical debates. He was going to miss having someone to bounce his theories off of. But most of all, he was going to miss being around David Rossi. They’d been together all this time, and yet he never told him. Couldn’t tell him. Not even now.
Jason placed a hand over his heart, pulling at his shirt as it if were suffocating him. It felt like it was, anyway. This was the way his heart always felt when they were apart. The longer he was away from David, the more it hurt. For the last week, it had even hurt when they were together, because he knew that their time together was running out. He couldn’t possibly follow where David wanted to go. He wasn’t like that. He couldn’t be like that.
Tears blurred his vision as Jason told himself that he would be okay. That he would get over it – somehow. His throat was raw as he tried to imagine a life without David in it. It felt empty and soulless to him now, sure, but over time he would get used to it. Over time he might even find someone else. If only he could let David go.
But that was something he could never do.
+_+
Jason sighs. He'd had his whole life planned out. He was going to be a psychoanalyst, he was going to help people. His eyes search out David; already he’s chatting with people, making friends. He'd never understand. So he won't tell him. Won't say that he would follow this man into the depths of hell; won't say that that's exactly what he's signing up for now, just so he can stay close to David. His straight best friend. The love of his life.
With just a flick of his wrist he signs his life away and joins the FBI.
#domaystic2023#Domaystic day 12#SFW#Prompt: Crisis#Fanfiction#Fanfic#AO3 fic#ao3 writer#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds#its true love#david rossi#jason gideon#heartache#unreciprocated love#pining
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spy engie sniper top 3 anon here (ses). scout used to be my main but now i just. really hate scout as a class
pyro is fun because. pretty
i don't like soldier because very slow and how in hell do y'all rocket jump that well
demo is fun. i love pipes way more than stickies and firing them around like a madman from afar gives me life
heavy is fun but only if there's teleporters and a lack of spies/good spychecking. otherwise i just choose something else
falls on my knees and grabs your hands and looks into your eyes. go play a jump map. i am not good at rocket jumping in actual matches and am still farrr from the Best in jump maps but it is sooo much fun once you start figuring things out. it gives me the same feelings i got figuring out puzzles in portal 2. there are people willing to Teach too. I don't even play soldier much myself but he IS fun to play once you get a handle on mobility. most of the people i play with are soldier mains though so maybe their propaganda is just getting to me.
anyway, I think the way I play is very centered around support, which is why pyro's my top Not-Support class pick. I always have the homewrecker to help engies, I can spy check, I can reflect rockets and extinguish teammates, a lot of support options there. I think i just pick scout when my usual picks already have a fair few people on them since scout has some Support options (mad milk) but doesn't require as much attention to play as engie does. also i play scout in mvm a lot so that adds to the hours.
I cannot aim for shit so I do not play a lot of demo but I've been trying to more recently, and I play too much spy and sniper to want to play heavy because i KNOW how easy they are to stab and headshot and I listen to music while I play so I will NOT hear a spy.
most to least played for me is:
medic->spy->sniper->pyro->scout->engie->soldier->demo->heavy
#ask#answer#response#anon#text#gameplay#i have less than an hour on heavy. demo- my second least played- has thirteen hours. so. yeah i do not like playing heavy lol
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Chapter Seven (Part 2)
Kelly insists on doing my hair and makeup before I go out for dinner that evening. To me it doesn’t really feel like a big enough deal to get made up for, but she’s just kind of like that. Kelly would never even put the bins out without wearing mascara, and since we were thirteen I don’t think I’ve seen her without makeup more than a handful of times. We sit in front of the mirror in her bedroom and I let her pat some shimmery gold eyeshadow onto my lids with a little brush.
“Is it going well with Liam?” She asks me, and I shrug. I still feel a bit raw after the things she said at the barbeque, but neither of us have addressed it. I know that we won’t because she’s not a natural apologiser, she’s more of a sweep-it-under-the-rug kind of girl. We’ll move on from any hurtful moment and we’ll start pretending that it never happened instead of dealing with the feelings that have come up. I’ve known her so long that I’ve stopped expecting anything else from her.
“I think it’s so nice that you’re going on this little date.”
“Yeah, it will be fun.”
She lifts my chin up to the light so she can get a better look at her work. “Have the two of you talked about the debs yet?”
“Um. No… what about the debs?”
She laughs. “You haven’t thought about how he might ask you to go to his?”
I don’t say anything, because truthfully it hasn’t crossed my mind. I never considered that Liam might want us to go together, but now that I do, it kind of makes sense. “Do you think he will?”
“Well he’s hardly going to ask some other girl instead.”
“I suppose that’s true; it might be a bit weird if it wasn’t me.”
“Well there’s something exciting to think about. Maybe he’ll ask tonight.”
“Maybe.” I frown. “Won’t it be funny though?”
“Funny how?”
“He’ll be having his debs here. In town somewhere. I won’t know anybody if I go, it’s just going to be people from his school and then me.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So I won’t know who to talk to all night.”
She rolls her eyes and pulls out a mascara wand. “Hold still a minute.” I try not to blink as she brushes it on for me. She continues: “You won’t have to talk to anybody else, you’ll just be sitting with Liam, and dancing with him and getting your lovely pictures taken together. And so what, if you don’t know anybody else you’ll just get to know them.”
“I’m shy though.”
“Well, don’t be shy.”
“Okay.”
She finishes up my makeup with a generous spritz of hairspray on my face to keep it from budging and then turns me around to admire her work in the mirror. “I think that looks great.”
“It does.” I agree, trying not to cough through aerosol clouds. I don’t tell her that I feel she’s done me up a lot more in her style, not mine. The gloss she’s put on my lips feels so sticky and my lashes are a bit clumped, but I doubt Liam will even see a difference. Boys are pretty bad at noticing things like makeup.
When my phone buzzes and Liam tells me that his dad is waiting outside the holiday park for me I grab my trusty white Adidas runners.
“Please, don’t wear those.” Kelly says, and she tosses a pair of her own black ballet pumps to me. “These will look so much nicer with your outfit.” I don’t have time to question it, so I slip them on and dash out the door. Only when I’m too far from the mobile to go back do I realise that her shoes are a size bigger than mine and now with the shoes in combination with the heavy makeup I feel clownish.
Liam gives me a kiss when I climb into his dad’s car. “Wow, you look so pretty tonight.” And then suddenly I feel so much better about myself.
Neither of us has very much money to spend on dinner, so we end up buying fish and chips and eating them on a little table outside the takeaway. I don’t mind, because it’s not as if I was expecting something fancy, I just wanted to spend time with Liam and talk and that’s exactly what we’re doing. I’m glad that things feel a bit normal again after our fight this morning.
“It’s a nice night.” He says, and I agree. The air is so warm and balmy tonight and even though I forgot to bring a jacket with me I don’t feel cold at all. The sun is creeping lower in the sky now that it’s past nine and the shadows are drawing long and the light is golden. It doesn’t feel like Ireland to me, it’s like being in Spain, sipping red wine on a cobbled street while I eat tapas and a man serenades me on a classical guitar. Except for the part where I’m eating greasy chips and drinking Club Lemon. And there’s no man.
“This summer has felt so long.” I say. “Crazy to think that there’s another six weeks of this kind of weather.”
“I don’t want it to end.” He says, and takes a thoughtful sip from his can of coke. “It’s all going to start happening now in August, you know what I mean? I want to enjoy the quiet times while I can.”
I nod. There’s a pause.
“So my debs is next month.” He says casually, and I kind of feel like laughing. How did Kelly know that this topic would come up tonight? I decide to act dumb. “Oh really? Cool.”
“Yeah… It’s going to be really good. The debs committee chose the theme for this year, guess what it is?”
“I don’t know, what is it?”
“Las Vegas casino. Isn’t that deadly?”
“Yeah that sounds like it will be really fun.”
“And they’ve booked this band too, my friend’s brother plays bass for them and they’re actually unreal, like they’re getting hired to do weddings and everything. And there’s going to be a DJ.”
I’m distracted by my phone buzzing in my pocket. I steal a quick glance and see a message from Jen. It just says “Hey.” I put it on the table.
“Sounds like you’re really looking forward to it.” I say to Liam. “I bet it’s going to be so much fun to have everyone there together to celebrate.” I can hear my phone going off again. Jen’s doing that thing where she’s sending multiple messages one after another instead of one block of text. It’s kind of hopping around in front of me. I can’t resist any longer and I grab it.
Hey
Kasper was just in the off licence in town and said that he saw you and Liam outside the takeaway!
We’re actually in town too haha
Out on the dock by the bank
No worries if you’re busy
“Yeah it’s going to be really good fun.” Liam goes on. “Now I suppose all I have to do is find a date to go with me.”
“Uh huh.” I’m distracted as I watch more messages come in.
But if you want you can come over and hang out with us tonight
Not doing anything, just chatting and having a couple of cans.
Up to you, Chick.
I put my phone down. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I said I need to find a date.”
“Oh.”
He scratches the back of his head and laughs awkwardly. “You’re making this awful hard for me, Evie.”
“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… wait, what’s hard for you?”
“I was going to ask you if you wanted to be my date to the debs.”
“Oh wow, thank you for asking.” I say, because I’m not really sure what the proper response should be. “When is it?”
“Late August, on the 23rd.”
“Well I mean, I might be gone back to Tullamore by then.”
He frowns “Couldn’t you come back down anyway just for the debs?” I feel bad, because obviously I could easily do that. And I’m not sure why I said that thing about being back in Tullamore either because I don’t even know if that’s true, it just rushed out of me. Kelly, Claire and I haven’t talked about the last day of our summer holiday yet, and haven’t even decided on a rough date to go home. There’s a niggling feeling inside me that wants me to resist his invitation, but I can’t tell if it’s just my usual anxiety or if it’s something deeper. I try my best to make him feel better and say: “I could come back down, yeah, of course, obviously I could.”
“If you need time to think about it that’s okay.”
“Okay, maybe I’ll think about it.”
“That’s fine.” But I know it’s not, and he takes out his phone and starts clicking through something so that he doesn’t have to look at me anymore. In the split second before he looks away I swear that I can see something shatter behind his eyes and I know I’ve ruined it.
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#sims#sims 4#ts4#sims 4 story#simlit#writing#sims story#fiction#romance#sims 4 storytelling#sims4 storytelling#sims storytelling#lucky girl part 1
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