#thanks my dear 🩵 i love being noticed

[hilplusterrorss]

Tagged by my beloved jet @zenithpng for a get-to-know-you tag game!

Last song: Something's Gotta Give by All Time Low (currently listening to their discography on my drives)

Favorite color: turquoise!

Currently watching: several things! Cardcaptor Sakura, Killing Eve, rewatching Hannibal for some reason, and i restarted H2O: Just Add Water with my little sister this week bc we finished miraculous! She's loving it so far lol

Relationship status: single :]

Spicy/savory/sweet: a toss up between sweet and savory tbh. Love both but I'm a big sucker for salt actually

Current obsession: a detective Conan / Magic kaito au with highly specific backstory for hakuba and an overabundance of tenderness. Bc I'm a sucker for worship i guess. I have published one (1) fic in this timeline and hopefully there will be like a dozen more. Or something idk how many but at least 3 or 4 that i have details for and probably other oneshots. I think i just need to write about my bird boy's backstory and it will finally fix me. But first i must write Everything Else

Victims (idk who's been tagged yet so don't mind me if you have!): @that-was-anticlimactic , @zukkaoru , @wonderland-mp3 , @orcinus-the-orca , @in-bituin-the-stars , @switch-shift , @canadianinja , @bleh1bleh2 , and anyone else who wants to!

[gothghostiie]

All your thoughts about Graves are amazing!! What if dear reader is his happy little shy housewife that decides to be bold and wear lingerie for his welcome home surprise- except he brought home a couple of close shadows with him to celebrate... so now you're being punished in front of them because Graves HAS to show his men his wife is his alone~ 🩵

thank you honey!! you have no idea how much it means to me 🫶🏻

cw: domesticity kink, exposure, light degrading, praise, creampie, teasing nipple play, talk about edging;sharing, spanking (ass and pussy), fem!reader, this turned out longer than I thought - not proofread

neither of you expected what the other one did - Phil didn't expect his usually so prim and proper, shy little wife to suddenly rock up in nothing but lingerie; you didn't expect him to bring some shadows home after a mission. usually he liked being alone with you, but usually you also wouldn't be waiting in that gorgeous, blue negligee, considering you only just bought it. you sat there in his armchair, legs crossed with the matching nylon socks being held up by lacy garters, heart racing when you heard the door unlock - face dropping when you heard the chuckles of multiple men. you panicked internally, frozen in your seat until it was too late to cover up, until he stepped in with his shadows behind him.

his face dropped briefly, eyeing you over and seeing you look at him like a deer in headlights - he couldn't help but grin. arms crossed over his chest, all of them still in uniform. "Well, what do we have here? if that isn't my sweet, little angel.." he hummed, carrying a note of sarcasm in his voice. you stuttered, stumbling over your own words for a good ten seconds before he shook his head and stopped you with a simple wave of his hand while walking over to you. slowly, Phillip bent down, hands on the armrests of his favourite chair, caging you under his gaze. "you wanted to surprise me like this? what happened to my innocent little darling who blushed when I even mentioned anything remotely kinky?" that same blush crossed your face again, making him laugh. "missed me so much while I was gone you had to throw yourself at me the second I came back? like a little slut?" he hummed, just loud enough for the others to hear. you blushed more, pressing your thighs together as he spoke, especially during the last word. he had never called you that, anything but darling, sweetheart and the like for that matter. but now he called you a slut in the most loving tone and christ, you'd be lying if you said it didn't make you wet.

"I- I'm.." you tried to speak but no sentence would form. he chuckled lowly, the shadows were now in the room but still kept their distance in case graves wanted them to leave. naturally he noticed it, noticed your eyes darting to them ever so often. He gave them a brief look before suddenly grinning, pointy canines on display as he turned back to you.

"should punish you for being so naughty darling.. I'm sure you won't mind the boys watching, do you? since you seem to love being on display like that.." he hummed, looking into your eyes, looking for any sign of hesitance. he saw the brief fear that got overrun by excitement, not to mention the way you rubbed your thighs together. "I'll take that as a yes." he said, suddenly grabbing your wrist with his gloved hand, pulling you out of the seat with ease. his other hand offered the shadows to take a seat in the living room, none of them hesitated even one bit to sit down. you glanced over at your husband, who dropped into his seat with a low groan, keeping you standing between his legs. "how about you get us all some drinks first, hm?" he asked, but it wasn't a question. you quickly nodded, cheeks still burning as the men told you what drink they'd like, you vanished into the kitchen. that wasn't something out of the ordinary, you usually liked making yourself useful for him and his friends.. just not almost naked with your nipples peeking through the thin fabric. with shaky hands you carried the tray back to them, handing everyone their drink - last but not least Phillip, who took the glass and patted his knee. "Sit."

without hesitation you sat down, making him smile in satisfaction. "you're such a dirty little thing aren't you? I can feel the heat from your pussy through the gear." he teased, his free hand snaking between your thighs, gloved fingertips grazing the damp fabric. you blushed, gripping the hem of your negligee tightly while refusing to look at him, or anything but the floor for that matter. "look at you, so shy suddenly." his fingers slowly pushed down on your clit, making you tense up. he chuckled at your reaction. "stand up. show the boys what I get to touch whenever I want." a shiver ran down your spine, yet you obeyed him like a dog. you stood up, even doing a little spin, the men eyeing you like hungry wolves. Phil meanwhile nodded, his semi pressing against his pants slightly. "over my lap." he commanded, you obeyed again. this wasn't a first, the two of you had tried some stuff and spanking is something that definitely stuck. slowly, almost teasingly he removed his gloves, putting them aside on the coffee table. "I'd say it's a shame to have to punish you but I'd be lying doll. I love it when you beg for mercy." with that the first smack landed, making you gasp for air. a few more followed rapidly, making your ass jiggle, your pussy growing more and more wet with each slap.

the men watched the whole thing go down, slowly growing hard and palming themselves through their gear - Phillip had laid down the ground rules while you got drinks, but you didn't need to know that. especially not when he landed the final, harsh strike, making you cry out. "stand up and show them how red your ass is. show them what happened when you're a naughty slut." he hissed, you obeyed with butterflies in your belly. you stood up, backside turned to the shadows as your fave burned in embarrassment, glancing at Phil briefly. he caught the look and gave you a reassuring smile. "so pretty, isn't she?" he hummed lovingly, pulling you in his lap again. this time your back was laid against his chest, his calloused hands sliding up and between your thighs while his lips peppered kisses over your shoulder. he was just about to speak up when he reached your panties, but instead raised an eyebrow. "oh? did someone enjoy her punishment?" he taunted, not even giving you time to think before forcibly spreading your legs, damp panties on display.

you cried out, shaking your head and hiding your face behind your hands. "i'-i'm sorry Phil, I didn't mean to, i-" he cut you off.

"now this won't do. looks like I'll have to punish that pretty pussy too." he hummed, before you could register it he began spanking your pussy too. every slap drew a loud whine or moan from you, legs twitching, pussy only drooling more. the first 10 slaps or so landed on your panties, the wet smack getting worse and worse, making him chuckle. "you're such a dirty little pervert angel.." he whispered, pulling the underwear aside to expose your sticky cunt, fingers rubbing between your folds. "I'm punishing you in front of my men and all you do is get wet and moan, not even showing remorse. I'm starting to think you wanted all of this, wanted to be showed off.." a smack landed on your bare pussy, making you cry out. "can't believe something so innocent and shy could be this dirty.." his voice was merely more than a low growl, boner pressing against your back as he landed another 10 smacks on your bare cunt, your slick dripping down onto his pants. by the last one tears of pleasure dwelled up in your eyes.

"Ph-phil.. please.." you whispered breathlessly. "can't take more.." your chest was rising and falling rapidly, hole clenching around nothing. your husbands hands slowly wandered up your torso until they reached your tits, groping them.

"oh? you can't take any more?" he asked almost sarcastically. "you want me to stop then?" he asked, yet you shook your head, trying to speak as his warm fingers slipped under the fabric to toy with your hard nipples.

"n-no.. I.. I want you.." you choked out in a shaky voice, nails digging into his thighs as you pressed your back against his chest. he laughed briefly, pinching your nipples lightly.

"say what you want. let them hear it." he whispered into your ear, nibbling right underneath it. you cried out, blushing in embarrassment as you looked over to the others, all of them with their cocks in their hands by now. you stammered, a soft sob escaping your throat as his grip on your nipples slowly tightened.

"i.. I want you to fuck my pussy.." you said shakily, almost crying from embarrassment - yet you wouldn't ever want to stop.

"fuck that naughty little pussy of yours?" he scoffed. "reward you after you enjoyed your punishment? seems a little strange, no?" he taunted, making you whine out. Phil chuckled, suddenly pinching your nipples tightly, speaking over you crying out. "beg for it." you hesitated only a moment before desperate pleas fell from your lips, begging him to take you. your voice was shaking, you were stuttering and fumbling with your words, him pulling yout nipples didn't help. only when they slipped out of his grip and your cried out loudly, arching your back he smiled, arms now wrapping around your waist. "good girl, there you go.. how can anyone say no when you beg so pretty?" he hummed, soothing you while one of his hands went to fumble with his belt. he peppered kisses over the side of your neck, nipping and sucking on it while you squirmed in his lap, moaning under his grip. only when he freed his cock and you felt the length against your back he stopped.

his hands snaked under your knees, with ease lifting you up and hovering you over his cock, tip just about grazing your still bare cunt, panties still pulled to the side. you peered down, breath hitching as he moved his hips back and forth, teasing you. "you ready baby?" he asked softly, no malice in his voice for once, just genuinely wanting to check in on you. you took a soft breath and gave him a nod, hands holding onto his forearms. he gave back and affirmative nod, kissing the back of your neck once before pretty much dropping you on his cock, the whole length forced inside your sopping pussy. you cried out loudly, arching your back as he growled, the feeling of your tight walls driving him insane.

"fuck, I missed your tight little cunt..." he muttered, hands gripping your lower thighs tightly to lift you again until he was about halfway outside of you, holding you there. he took a deep breath before slowly rocking his hips up into you, letting you get used to it. the feeling was intense, whether it was that he hadn't fucked you due to being away on a mission; or the eyes of the shadows burning into your cunt being split open by his cock. the thrusts were gentle but that didn't last long, he was growing desperate himself. no matter how hard he had tried to hold back, within minutes he was slamming his hips up into you, groaning and grunting while you were crying softly, drool running down your chin from the overwhelming pleasure. his fingertips dug into your thighs, feeling you become fully loose around him, the gushing sounds making his cock twitch. it didn't take long for you to squirm, getting closer to cumming with each passing minute. of course Phil noticed, he had seen it time and time before.

"you gonna cum?" he asked harshly, out of breath but refusing to slow his thrusts. "do you even fucking deserve that, slut? this was supposed to be a punishment.." his words made you shiver and clench, whining loudly. "should be so thankfulI'm m even fucking you right now.. should've just let the boys have their way with you.." his words made the knot in your stomach tighten by far, another sob escaping you. "shouldn't be letting you cum at all, should i?"

by now all your dignity and most of your shyness were gone, so almost naturally desperate pleas started falling from your lips. "please, Phil.. I gotta cum, can't take it anymore.. I'll be good I promise.. do anything you want.." the words made a chill run down his spine. even if he wanted to he couldn't hold back now.

"fuck.." he muttered, hand reaching towards your pussy to give it a good smack, you cried out. "cum for me doll.." he huffed through gritted teeth, fingers now rubbing your clit. within just seconds your eyes rolled back, all your reservation gone as you came over his cock, head falling back, whole body quivering as you drooled. incoherent thank yous spilled from your lips as he fucked you through your high, chasing his own - which luckily for him didn't take too long, especially with your sweet cries. he dropped you down on his cock again, the whole length disappearing inside you as he bit your shoulder hard, drawing a final cry from you before he came deep inside you.

[cillianhead]

Hello dear!!! I hope you're having a wonderful day!

Could you please write a piece about Cillian falling for a (younger!) poet? He starts frequenting her reading sessions and that's how they meet. The rest is up to you!

Thank you 🩵

Yes!! Love this, thank you <3

Enjoy my sweet nonny!

This is heavily inspired by the song All Too Well (10-minute version) (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift!!

Wind In My Hair, I Was There || Cillian Murphy x Reader

warnings: Smut, angst, age gap (reader is in her mid to late twenties, Cillian is in his forties.), swearing, Cillian is sort of an asshole in this in some parts, so that is a warning, infidelity (Cillian is married), general adult content ahead!!

Minors DNI! 18+

I'd also like to clarify this isn't really based on the real Cillian!! I know he's married and very happy, this is just fiction and fantasy!! Not meant to portray Cillian as a bad person!! I'd also like to clarify that the ready doesn't really know who Cillian is... or maybe like Cillian isn't that famous in this fic universe or something because there are a few plot points that may seem questionable... that's all. Anyway... enjoy!!

The autumn you spent with Cillian Murphy would be one you would always remember, not that you really had a choice in whether or not you could forget him.

Your apartment was small and cozy at the time, with a perfect view of the falling leaves outside. It was sitting across from a small park in New York City; the trees were red and orange, and it felt like the fall was putting on a show just for you. You felt fortunate and privileged to live in such a place.

You lived right up the road from a small cafe with a library. Every Thursday, you meet with like-minded writers and read your work aloud. It helped bring you out of your shell; you felt a sense of pride when you read your poetry out loud and had people praise you for being so brave and how well you wrote. Despite the fact you have been attending these little group meetings for almost two years now and you felt pretty comfortable amongst the people who were there, you felt like you could vomit your pounding heart right up every time you stood at that podium in front of the dozen or so people that attended. But even with the lump in your throat, you'd read with a shaky voice and tears ready to spill, you would receive the same round of applause every time and a pat on the back from some of the attendees you were closer with.

It was September 14th when you first saw him, but it wasn't the first time he had seen you, summer still lingering in the air but barely grasping on as Autumn began to take the reigns. You were standing at that cedar-wood podium, reading aloud as nervously as you always did. You had yet to notice him quietly slip in; you were too busy ensuring you were on the right line.

"-And something beautiful sprouted, something that I am not... something that I never will be." You looked up after reading the last line, biting your lip nervously and stepping back from the speaking podium. There he sat, in a sweater and the most hypnotizing eyes you had ever seen. Maybe love at first sight was real, you thought briefly. People clapped, but the room remained silent and still for you as you two made eye contact; he didn't clap; he just stared at you with a look that told you he was just as taken aback by you as you were by him.

He kept attending the sessions, but he never got up and read anything and never really interacted with anyone else; in fact, you'd see him get up and leave once you had finished reading your poetry. You wondered if anyone else noticed him the way you did, or maybe he was a figment of your imagination... a ghost.

It was October 19th when you first spoke with him. You dreamt about him day and night, and you two had never even spoken before every session; you'd wonder if he'd be there, and he always was. Sitting in the same seat, at the very back, going ultimately unnoticed by almost everyone but you.

"Excuse me, sir!" You yelled out, rushing to follow the man in the plaid shirt and beanie. "You dropped this!" It was a pair of keys you had clutched in your hand, the crisp autumn air meeting the apples of your cheeks.

He turned around, only a foot or two away from you, as he looked at you up and down, taking notice of his keys in your hand. "Oh gosh, thank you, love," He took the keys gently out of your hand, his fingers lingering on yours a little too long for a stranger, fingertips brushing together. "I swear I'd lose my head if it weren't screwed on." You took notice of his Irish accent. It made you even more curious to know him better. "Erm... thank you so much."

"It's no problem..." You trailed off. You're not sure what to say now. He gave you a stiff nod and started to turn around and keep walking, but you just couldn't let him leave. "Wait!" What do you say now?

"Yeah?" He turned around, tilting his head at you, blue eyes staring at you, waiting.

"I... I'm Y/N... by the way... I always see you here... but I never see you read anything..."

"Cillian," He chuckled. "Not interested in reading anything I've written, only here to listen." Cillian's response was short but straight to the point.

"You don't stick around for very long... you always leave after... I've finished reading my writing..."

"Well... your work is the only one I come to listen to. The rest of the lots' poems just go in one ear and out the other," He said honestly. "You've got a charm about you; I've never heard anything like what you write. It's unique and intelligent, cleverly crafted written pieces... It captures my attention, unlike the rest, which all seem like people trying to mimic someone else... you write from your heart... or your head... I can't decide which, really." He notices your silence, Cillian steps a bit closer to you. "Perhaps I've said too much." He mumbles. The proximity of where he stands is close enough that you can feel his warmth, a stark contrast to how cold it was outside. "You've surely captivated me, Y/N." He said your name like it was a sacred prayer.

You felt like your heart was in your throat, looking at him dumbfounded and unsure what to say. "That's... very flattering, I don't know what to say... thank you, Cillian..." You scratch behind your ear, swaying nervously on your feet. Cars honked, and people passed by as you two stood outside the little cafe, which was now closed since the reading sessions had ended. Cillian looked around awkwardly before sucking in a deep breath and exhaling, his breath visible out in the open air due to how cold it was.

"Would you like to go out for dinner with me?" Cillian looked at you, eyes reflecting the city lights. The moment felt like something from a movie or something you'd write a poem about. It felt like something that wasn't quite possible within these depths of reality. "I understand... if not... you're a young beautiful woman... probably got someone waitin' at home for y-" "N-No, I'd love to!" You interrupted him, with your heart racing. "I'd love to go to dinner with you... I don't have anyone at home... waiting for me..."

"Well, aren't I lucky... when are you free?" He gave you a smile, the first you'd ever seen from him. It made his usually sombre face light up; he grinned, making you feel all giddy.

"I'm free any time on the weekends... and on Tuesdays, I have work off, so... I would love to... see you this weekend, maybe?"

"Wonderful, Saturday evening, you and me?"

You nodded. You exchanged numbers and went on your merry way, walking down the streets of New York City with a smile on your face that was purely gleeful. People would give you looks, but you didn't care. You were excited about something for once. You obsessed over it for the next day and a half.

October 21st marked your very first date with Cillian Murphy. At six, you waited patiently outside your apartment building in the cold air. With a red scarf wrapped around your neck your nose runny from the autumnal weather, you looked around like a lost puppy.

"Y/N," Cillian's warm voice startled you from behind you. You jumped but swiftly turned around to look at him, a bashful smile on both of your faces. "You look lovely." You felt your heart pound at the sight of him.

"Thank you. You also look lovely yourself." You replied. He leaned in and kissed your cheek before taking your hand in his and guiding you down the street. The feeling of his hand in yours made the cold weather seem like summer. Your body lit in flames at the idea he wanted you close to him. And the feeling of his lips on your cheek remained there the whole evening, burning its mark into your skin.

The night went on, and you found yourself in a charming Italian restaurant. It was nothing too fancy, but it was nice and romantic for a first date, definitely nicer than any other places other guys have taken you. It was just the two of you sitting towards the back, in a small booth, eating your plates of pasta. You talked, and you talked, and you talked. He spoke about how he was an actor; you could see his eyes light up at his passion for his work. He told you he was in New York for work and was filming a movie for something he couldn't legally disclose yet. Your chemistry was magnetic, and the conversation would weave in and out of different subjects. You talked about anything and everything, things like masculinity, The Beatles, the incident that happened on your 21st Birthday, batman, and everything else there was to discuss. You felt like you had known him forever. He said the same thing and referred to you two as twin flames. When you were about to leave, his phone began to ring.

"Fuckin' hell, what is it now?" He groaned. "Probably just a wrong number... or somethin'... hold on, love." He stepped outside, and you watched him on the phone. Cillian looked angry and frustrated, like he was arguing over the phone with someone. Your heart, which once rode the waves of love and joy, now sank beneath them into the deep dark depths of navy blue and dismay, watching him grow angrier and angrier and yell over the phone. He was seeing red.

When he waved for you to come out, you approached him cautiously. He huffed, puffed, and fidgeted his hands in his pockets, clearly restless. "Who was that? Are you okay?" "It was no one," He replied shortly and coldly. "I'm fine, let's go." You didn't say a word after that. The tension was thicker than the cold. You were afraid of saying anything to further upset him. So silence was the answer as he walked you home. You felt disappointed that this was how the night was ending. You wondered who it was and what they had said that had upset him so badly. The familiar apartment building you called home came closer and closer within sight, the disappointment weighing you down like water in your shoes. The disappointment tracing every inch of your freezing skin.

You stood in your elevator with him. He promised to walk you back to your unit at least, and he kept that promise. "Would you like to come in... Cillian?" You asked. You pulled out your house key and unlocked the door, looking at him hopefully.

"No, I'd better not." He remained cold and rigid with you. He couldn't even bring himself to give you a smile. You felt you'd never see him again; maybe he didn't like you the way you thought he did. Maybe he found you obnoxious and dumb. Perhaps the phone call was from another woman he realized was better than you. Maybe you simply needed to be better for him. "Goodnight, Y/N." He turned and walked away; you couldn't speak as tears welled in your eyes. Sorrow built up within you like some sort of horrible game of Jenga; one wrong move and you'd come crashing down and falling apart all over the place.

"Goodnight..." You whispered, but by then, he'd already stepped into the elevator, and the doors shut, taking him away from you. You cried yourself to sleep that night, both out of self-pity and disappointment.

When you awoke, it was to the sounds of soft raps on your front door. It was eight in the morning. Padding gently down the hallway, floorboards creaking, sleep still in your eyes, and your face puffy from the tears that leaked from your tear ducts the previous night, you opened the door, expecting it to be a neighbor asking you if they could borrow some sugar or something along those lines.

"Good morning," Cillian stood at your door, this time with a big apologetic smile, a complete change from last night's cold demeanour. He held a pink, yellow, and white bouquet and a small paper bag in his other hand. "I came here to apologize... for how I treated you last night." "Come in." You ushered him in.

He noted your knick-knacks, the photos on your walls, and your old, worn-out furniture. The way you decorated the place stood out to him, but the look on your face stood out to him the most. Sad, tired eyes, puffy and glazed over, you looked at him expectantly. "I'm so sorry." He whispered to you.

"What for?" You asked as you sat in your favorite olive green armchair. It was velvet and soft, and you'd spend most of your time writing, reading, or drinking your morning cup of coffee.

"For treating you like I didn't care," He sighed. He sat on the leather sofa beside you, gently placing the flowers on your glass coffee table and the paper bag smelling of freshly baked goods. "I don't want to discuss exactly who it was or what happened on that phone call... but I... I shouldn't have shut you out just because I was upset... that was... wrong of me, and I'm sorry." Your anger and sadness dissipated the way a fire dissipates when it's being smothered: immediately. His big blue eyes were the blanket that hushed that flame out, striking him as immediately forgiven.

"I understand, Cillian..." You mumbled, pulling your knees up to your chest. "Things happen... it's alright... I...." You wanted to confront him and tell him how insignificant and stupid he made you feel, but you swallowed it back and gave him a small smile. You remained the people pleaser you always have been. You spared his feelings over your own. "I understand." You repeated.

"I thought... I would make it up to you," He pushed the small paper bag over to you. "We could spend the day together... if you don't already have plans."

The paper bag contained a chocolate eclair. You had written a poem that mentioned eating a chocolate eclair while in a made-up love affair. The rhyming was cheesy, but it was one of Cillian's favorite poems of yours. It was the first one he had heard from you. Of course, you didn't realize the irony of it at the time. You just grinned and accepted it happily. You didn't know that you were engaging in a relationship with a man who was already married. So you took a bite of the eclair, letting him into your fragile heart, and entered this sad and tragic love affair.

So you spent the whole day together. You walked around New York City, holding hands and laughing your heads off. It felt romantic and intimate, and you got to know each other even deeper than you did before. You kissed under a stop sign and shared sweet nothings. The clouds rolled over, and the sky opened up. The rain watered you down like a pair of leaves in a pot plant, and you both ran through Central Park, trying to find the nearest shelter until you came across a large oak tree. It was something out of a movie, sitting together, soaking wet, staring at each other as lightning strikes in the distance. The wind was in your hair, and his lips were on yours.

You spent pretty much every day together after that. You made love in every room of your apartment, cherishing each other's bodies. Cillian would sit in that cafe, and he would clap after your readings and then reward you with a kiss when you got back down to him. You wrote poetry about him, and he would write some for you. It was a beautiful, quiet, little harmonious relationship you had going on. You found yourself falling in love. You thought he was, too, though you never said it out loud.

He even met your dad. They got along quite well. Your dad didn't seem to mind that Cillian was only a few years younger than him (and much older than you). Your dad just wanted to see you happy and safe. In fact, your dad told you he had never seen you more content. Cillian made your dad laugh, they got along like old friends. Seeing them bonding and getting along made you incredibly happy and excited.

On November 16th, at noon, you got ready to go to where he was staying, wrapping that red scarf around your neck again and stepping out into the living room where Cillian waited for you with eyes full of affection. You had packed a small bag since Cillian told you he was staying at his sister's house in upstate New York. She was away at the moment. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen." He hummed jollily. You wrapped your arm through his and went down to the lobby.

His car had that new car smell, clearly a rental. "No matter how often I've stayed in America, I never get used to driving on the wrong side of the road." Cillian chuckled, exiting his parking spot and beginning the long drive to his sister's house.

The drive was beautiful. Driving through the city and slowly entering into suburban areas, red and brown trees lining the streets, Halloween decorations on display, and music playing through the radio, you both sang along to the words happily. The drive was surreal and peaceful. You drove down a long country road, and the tall trees created a tunnel above you. Only small slits of the grey sky could be seen through the scarlet leaves.

"We're here, Y/N," Cillian smiled at you, stepping out of the car and walking off without you. You hurriedly got out of the car with your things. "Oh, lock the car for me, the button doesn't work... please, love." He tossed you the car keys, not looking where he was throwing them, and they landed in the dirt before you. You ignored how it made you feel (stupid, insignificant, small), picking up the dirty keys and locking the car manually before rushing over to where he was unlocking the door.

The house was nice and quiet and far from the rest of civilization. It felt like home somehow. It is decorated nicely with photos of his sister and her husband, even some with Cillian when he was younger. It was getting dark by now, and you set your belongings down in the guest bedroom where Cillian was staying. You never asked when he was going back to Ireland. You didn't wanna know. You wanted to appreciate your time together instead of counting down the days.

Cillian cooked you dinner and shared a long, loving kiss to say thanks. You sat cuddled up on the couch together afterwards, your crimson scarf hanging over the stair railing as you rested your head lovingly on his shoulder. An old Western movie played in the background, but you were too busy holding each other and whispering sweet things.

"Cillian..." You whispered, pressing soft kisses along his stubbly jaw. "I'm so happy you brought me here... this feels so special." "I'm so happy to have you here, Y/N." He whispered back. Cillian pulled you into his lap. "This is special, just you and me... here... I'm going to make you my own." You wanted to tell him, 'I'm already yours, Cillian; my heart and soul are yours', but you remained silent, smiling dopily at him.

And with those charming words, you kissed him. Flashes of red played through your mind, fireworks sounding off in your head as your lips danced together. His hands cradled your head as you made out nice and slow. Both in your pyjamas now, warming each other up, hands running up and down his back. Cillian's hands wandered down your back until they rested on the tops of your hips, his thumb fiddling with the waistband of your sweatpants.

"Take them off." You hummed, raising your hips slightly off of his, and he obeyed, sliding your pants off until you were only in your panties. Cillian observed how you sat back down on his lap, the lace scrunched up, showing off the curve of your ass.

"I'm going to ravish you." He growled, eyeing you up and down. The timbre of his voice caused your thighs to tightly squeeze together. He pressed you down onto the couch, slipping his pants down until he was just in his briefs. He slipped your shirt over your tits, breasts bouncing out of their containment and straight into his mouth. He sucked happily on your nipples until you were a panting mess, begging for more. "Let me feel you, sweetheart."

"Please..." You exasperated. "Please... Cillian."

Two nimble fingers slipped under your lace underwear, straight down to where your arousal pooled. "So wet f'me, always so wet, aren't you, baby?" He groaned, fingers teasing your slit before sliding back up to rub circles on your clit.

"You know what you do to me..." You breathed out, biting your cherry red lips and closing your eyes, embracing the pleasure. "Always so wet for you, Cillian..."

The way Cillian cradled you in his strong arms as his fingers caressed you to your peak was the most intimate thing you had ever experienced. His eyes watched your face contort with pleasure, mouth open and spilling sounds of satisfaction as you came on his fingers.

"That's it, baby... doing so good," He whispered, kissing your cheek. "So beautiful."

You lolled your head to the side, panting and looking at him with a dazed grin. "Please fuck me."

Cillian laughed at your words. "Such a dirty mouth!" He teased as he tugged down his pants. "Gonna fuck you nice and slow, gonna show you how much you mean to me, love."

Then, in the dim light of the TV and the moon shining through the window, you made love like it was your last night on Earth. Hands ran up and down each other's bodies, trying to savor every final touch. Lips captured together, your bodies working as one, the love was there, glimmering in the light. No words could explain how you felt then; nothing else existed to you, just him and his hands all over your body. You and him for the rest of eternity, at least; that's how it felt in your heart.

You held each other tight in bed, clinging on for dear life. You listened to his heart slow as he slept and the way he breathed. You wondered if he dreamt about you the way you dreamt of him. Eventually, you fell asleep at midnight after watching his pretty face sleeping.

At three in the morning, you wake to an empty bed. Sitting up with a sweat, where did Cillian go? You slip out from under the covers, wincing at the room's cold air that meets your bare legs. You wore one of Cillian's button-ups, only the middle button holding it together as you slowly creep out of the room, listening to the sound of quiet music from the kitchen.

"Cillian?" You called out, cautious and slightly afraid at how dark the house is. It was a lot quieter than you were used to. You were a city girl, unfamiliar with the countryside silence.

"Y/N?" You heard, which relieved your paranoid mind.

Down the stairs, Cillian stood in the fridge's light, soft music playing through a small radio on the kitchen counter. "What're you doing up, Cillian?" You worriedly walked over to him, arms reached out as he turned to look at you, only in his sleep shorts.

"Just needed a midnight snack. I'm alright, my love," He smiled sleepily, with a sheepish look since he wasn't fully awake yet. "C'mere... dance with me."

"Oh... Cillian..." You giggled, walking over to him, letting him wrap you up in his strong arms and sway you gently. "This is nice."

"Mmmm..." Cillian hummed into the soft skin of your neck.

The refrigerator remained open, the cool-tinted light painting you both as you swayed side to side. You were half asleep, and the rocking motion didn't help your drowsiness. You felt as though this was some strange dream.

"Are you real?" You whispered.

"What do you mean?" Cillian purred back.

"I just feel like I made you up." You muttered, pulling your head back to look up at him with big, sleepy eyes.

Cillian looked back at you with the same look. Your wide-eyed gaze and his sweet blue eyes looked like something out of a romance film or something you'd see in a painting. The love you shared was unanimous... or at least you thought so. A kiss and then another kiss and then another turned into a sleepy yet heated make-out.

"Gonna take you right here," He grumbled into your mouth. "My midnight snack."

You giggled at his words as he pressed you against the kitchen island countertop. Kissing so hard it felt like your lips could bruise. He ripped off your shirt and pulled it off you like it was nothing. Cillian growled at the sight of you, hands groping at your tits and lips trailing down your neck. You whimpered, letting your head hang back as he ground his stiff cock into your clothed cunt.

"Fuck!" You whined, wrapping your legs around his hips even further. You ignored the feeling of the marble countertop digging into your lower back; the feeling of his cock was too delicious, too distracting, to really let it ruin the mood. "Cillian, please, baby, just put it in me... need you so bad."

He gave you a grunt and slipped off his shorts before pulling your panties to the side. Cillian acted like a feral dog as he pushed his cock into you and began fucking you on his sister's countertops at three in the morning. The act was sinful.

"Oh god! Yes!" You wailed. You could be as loud as you wanted to out here. No one else was around to hear, and you knew how Cillian liked to hear you scream for him. His hips pistoned in and out of you, cock fitting perfectly inside you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. He had never been so rough with you before, but you were enjoying it.

"Best pussy I've ever had," Cillian groaned, sweat dripping from his forehead. "Fuck... so good... feels so good."

His fingernails dug into your hips, grunting into the dips of your neck and shoulders as he chased his own high. You ran your hands up and down his back, leaving scratch marks across his shoulder blades. The fridge remained open, but right now, you didn't care. All you could think about was how good he was fucking you. Drool spilled down your chin, mind blank, and legs went limp from the euphoria taking over.

"Yeah, is that it?" Cillian muttered, voice gritty and low as his hips sputtered. "You gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my cock?"

"Yes... oh fuck! Yes!" You moaned. "Gonna cum for you, Cillian..."

"Love the way my name sounds comin' from your mouth," He whispered, letting out a mouth-watering whine straight into your ear. Your pussy clenched around him tighter as Cillian, usually a quiet and stoic man, came undone and let out the most delectable pornographic-sounding moans. "Y'make it sound so dirty..."

"Please cum in me..." You whimpered. "Please... need it so bad."

"Really?" Cillian panted and looked at you incredulously. He had never had the pleasure of getting to cum in you yet. "You sure?"

"Yes!" You threw your head back, panting like a dog. "Please, Cillian! Please... give it to me." "Fuck... alright... gonna fill you up, love."

You pressed your face into the curve of his neck, mewling as you came around him and the feeling of his hot cum beginning to spill into you. "I love you." You gasped out, squeezing your eyes shut as you came around him. You meant it; you did love him. You had never loved anyone the way you had loved him. You could see yourself with him for the rest of your life, having his babies, getting married..., and dying together. He just groaned loudly as he came inside you, not saying a word to your confession. Maybe it wasn't the right time, or he would wait until he was done to say something.

"Fuckin' hell..." Cillian whispered as he slipped his softening length out of you and pulled his shorts back up. "Look at that..." He mumbled with amazement, getting down on his knees in front of your quivering and cum-filled pussy.

"Cillian, I-"

"Shhh..." He hushed before pressing a loving nip to your inner thigh, and then he unhinged his jaw and attached his watering mouth to your cunt. You forgot everything you were about to say at the feeling of his tongue licking you up and sucking on your swollen clit. You came again quickly due to how sensitive you were, and Cillian sucked up your gushing juices and his cum that still dripped out of you. Standing up, he grabbed you by the chin and kissed you, spitting the mixture into your mouth, tongues swirling together. You moaned at the salty taste and the dirty act. "Such a good girl..." Cillian hummed. "Swallow it, baby. Show me how good you can be for me."

He watched you gulp it down before leaning in and rewarding you with a wet and messy kiss, teeth grabbing your bottom lip before pulling away. "Cillian..." You whispered, out of breath and incredibly flustered. "That... was so good... I love-" "Let's go to sleep," He interrupted abruptly, crouching and picking up your discarded clothing. "It's real late, sweetheart."

"Oh..." You mumbled, heart breaking a little. "Okay... let's go then." You didn't get a peep of sleep that night. While Cillian snored beside you, one heavy arm draped across you and his hot breath fanning the back of your neck, you stared at the ticking clock with tears slipping down your face. Why didn't he say it back? Why didn't he at least say something? You knew he heard you. The dread built up within you that night, and daylight didn't seem to get any closer.

At 7:47 AM, you were pulled out of a state between consciousness and sleep by Cillian's phone ringing. "Fuck..." Cillian said groggily, reaching over with a heavy hand to pick up his phone. "Who is it?" You moaned out of dissatisfaction from being pulled out of your slumber.

"It's my sister..." He groaned before answering the call. "Hello?.... Yeah, it's alright... no, I don't have anything on today... you're comin' home today?... I thought you'd be home Monday..." You sat up at this, heart racing. Were you going to have to meet his sister today? You were nervous but also excited. Cillian looked over at you with a horrified look in his eye. "Yeah... alright... see you then... bye."

"...Is everything okay?" You asked cautiously.

"Yeah, I guess we're not sleepin' in..." He grunted as he got up and walked towards the en suite. "Gather yer' things, we're going back to the city." "What? Why?"

"I just don't want my sister to know I had a girl over." That was the last thing he said before shutting the bathroom door, clearly in a bad mood. Your heart sank at his words as if it wasn't already hurting. So you got up, fighting back the tears and gathered your things, shoving them back into your bag as you let out a choked sob.

Half an hour passed, Cillian was still in the shower, and you sat at the bottom of the stairs, feeling sorry for yourself. Your bag sat beside you, and the floorboards creaking behind you caught your attention. You turned and looked up at Cillian, dressed in a lovely blue turtle neck, dress pants, and a grim look on his face.

Begrudgingly, you followed him outside and into the car, then began the drive back in silence.

"You wanna grab some lunch wit' me today?" Cillian asked after about twenty minutes of silence.

"No." You said dryly.

"What? You got plans or somethin'?" Cillian asked with a chuckle. The question felt condescending and rude.

"Because what you said to me earlier really fucking hurt me." You hissed, turning to look at Cillian to see him already looking at you.

"What the fuck are you on about?" He barked back, putting his eyes back on the road and giving you that dry, condescending laugh again.

"You said you didn't want your sister to know about me.... that you didn't want your sister to know about you having a girl over."

"Yeah, and?" Cillian quipped, clearly flustered.

"Is that all I am to you?" You whimpered, trying to keep your composure, trying to seem strong. "Just a girl?" "'Course not, Y/N." He said in a hushed tone.

"Then what the fuck are we?" You raised your voice, a tear slipping down your cheek. "Why can't your sister know about me? About us?"

"B-Because..." He faltered before falling completely silent.

"Why, Cillian?" You cried. "You've met my friends... you've even met my father... for fuck's sake... why can't... why can't I meet your sister and her husband?"

He kept his silence. You could see the tears in his eyes that refused to spill. Those tears were just as stubborn as he was.

"Answer me!" You screamed, tears pouring down your exasperated face. "Say something!"

"Because I'm married!" He screeched back.

That shut you up. You leaned back and just stared at your feet. You felt like you had been winded, like all the air in the car had been sucked out, and you were choking on carbon monoxide. He was married. You sobbed as the shock set in, and Cillian pulled the car over to the side of the road, unbuckling his seatbelt. You fell into a state of despair; your chest felt incredibly heavy, and your brain played a loop of hopeless thoughts.

"Y/N," Cillian said firmly, reaching out and placing a soft hand on your shoulder, which you quickly smacked away. "Y/N... look at me..."

You looked over at him, and you could see him wince at the look on your face. He'd never seen you in so much pain. Never had he seen you look at him so coldly. "What?" You spat. "What is it, Cillian?"

"I... I'm sorry."

"Fuck you," You cried harder, covering your face with your hands and leaning on the dashboard. You cried so hard it felt like you could vomit. You felt like the salty tears were slowly dissolving you away. "Fuck you!" You sobbed.

"Y/N... I am sorry."

"If you were sorry..." You hiccuped, looking back at him with red eyes and tears endlessly slipping down your flustered face. "You never would have... you never would have done this to me... you never would have gotten involved with me!"

Cillian sighed and shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I... I stumbled into that cafe one night, and I saw you and... I heard the way you spoke... and the words you said... and I couldn't believe you were real... and things haven't been amazing in my marriage lately... and I haven't seen my wife in months..." He was rationalizing with you... with the infidelity. "I... I've never met anyone like you."

"You lied to me."

"How was I supposed to tell you I was married, Y/N?" Cillian snapped at you, looking at you with fangs barred. "What was I supposed to say to you?"

"You didn't have to say anything," You sobbed. "You shouldn't have invited me to dinner... you shouldn't have even... you shouldn't have ever shown up to those reading sessions... you just shouldn't have gotten involved with me in the first place!"

"My wife doesn't have to know."

"That... doesn't make it any better," You bawled. "You have a woman... back in Ireland fucking waiting for you, and I'm here... thinking I'm falling in love with you while you fuck me over!"

"I'm sorry..." He whispered, defeated. "I'm so sorry."

Silence.

"Do you feel anything for me?" "Of course, I feel something for you, Y/N... you're-"

"Do you love me?" You corrected. "Could you say you truly and honestly love me?" "I..." He looked away at that. You scoffed and shook your head, wiping tears off your face. "I don't... I don't know... I just..." "What the fuck was going to happen between us?" You cried. "How was this going to end? This was always going to end tragically... wasn't it? Wasn't it, Cillian?"

"I didn't... I never thought about how I was going to end things... I go back home in December... filming ends in two weeks... I was going to spend the last few weeks with you..." You scoffed again loudly. "Aww... how sweet! Spend your last few days with your mistress, who's twenty years younger than you... and then fuck off back to Ireland and go be with your loving wife and your... oh god... you have kids, don't you?" "Yes... I..." "Fuck!" You screamed. It wasn't like you to be so angry. You weren't usually this loud. But the pain was just too much, and you needed some way to get the pent-up rage within you out. "So this is it... this is going to be the last time I'll ever see you."

"It doesn't have to be that way, love," Cillian whispered, placing a hand on your arm; this time, you let it stay there. The shame of having him touch you made you sob again. "We could... spend this last month together... we could... cherish what we have while we still have it." "What we have is gone," You replied. "It's gone! It's dead! You killed it! You can't even say you love me."

"What good would that do?" He pushed you further over the edge. "I mean... I could lie and say I love you... I could feed into your fantasies that this... this could last... but it's not..."

Those words 'I could lie and say I love you' echoed over and over again in your head.

"I know that!" You yelped.

There was a pause. The silence hanging heavy in the autumn air and your teardrops falling into your lap where your hands lay curled up. Cillian's thumb rubbed circles into your arm, and you only cried harder.

"Maybe... if we had been closer in age... maybe we would have... maybe we would have been fine." Cillian broke the silence with that banger. The words ringing in your ears, you didn't reply. You didn't utter a word. Those words made you want to die. A minute or two went past. You just ignored him, ignored the way his hand lit your skin on fire, and ignored the way his eyes bore holes into the side of your skull. "Y/N?"

"Take me home." You muttered.

"Y/N..." He whispered.

"Take me the fuck home, Cillian."

And so he did. He pulled out of the parking spot, and you spent the next hour in an agonizing silence. At some point, the tears stopped falling, and the stupidity sunk in. You felt stupid and ashamed. You had told everyone about him, how happy you were, how handsome and funny... and how sweet he was. And now you sat in the car of a man you felt like you didn't know.

"We're here, Y/N."

"Goodbye, Cillian."

"Please don't do this." He begged, you looked at him, and he had tears in his eyes. "Please." You sucked in a breath, his eyes pleaded with you, and you wanted to stay so badly... you wanted to give him one last kiss and say, 'I understand,' but you knew you couldn't. You were too heartbroken. It was going to end one way or another... and it might as well end now.

"Goodbye, Cillian." You said once more before stepping out of the car and walking off into your building. Never looking back to see the broken man in the car, crying just as hard as you did, loving you just as hard as you did him.

Three months went by. There wasn't a day where you didn't think of him. Not a day passed when you yearned for his touch and to feel him hold you again. You thought about dancing with him in the refrigerator light. You thought about his hand on your thigh as you drove upstate. The memories all too real and... all too there.

And tonight, as snow fell outside, you stood at that same podium, reading the poem you wrote for him. You could barely utter the words, your heart catching in your throat as you looked around the room and spoke the words written on the page.

"Just between us, I remember it all too well." You finished, and the room clapped, but the applause didn't matter. Your heart still felt just as broken as it did the day you left him.

And as you descended from the podium, people would pat you on the back and murmur praises for how well-written your poem was and how well-spoken you were. But your eyes were focused on the hazy figure outside the cafe, the silhouette all too familiar.

And it was wearing that same red scarf you had left behind.

And you knew it was him, watching you from afar. Loving you from a distance... remembering it the same way as you did...

All too well.

-

hope you enjoyed!! Sorry this was all over the place a bit but I really wanted to write something angsty... anyway... there are lots of little easter eggs and references to the song, did you pick them all up? Okay byeee!

[daisybianca]

INSTAGRAM AU

Mick Schumacher

liked by mickschumacher, charlesleclerc and 897.028 others

yourusername race, outfit and my boyz🩵

view all 4.233 comments

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liked by sebastianvettel, lewishamilton and 2.768.019 others

mickschumacher I love summer

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[never-ending-fanfic]

For the WIP Ask Game anything to share on ‘Five things the Spectres found out about Kallus and one he told them himself’? I’m always obsessed with Kallus slowly opening up the Ghost crew

Oh thanks for asking! 🩷 And yes, I absolutely do have stuff to share about that! And I agree, Kallus slowly getting closer with the Ghost Crew is something so dear

With this one, it's a 5+1 fic and the main theme is- as the title says- things about Kallus that he keeps to himself and the Ghost Crew uncovers. I have a list of things abut Kallus attached to the crew members

Past- Ezra (it's mostly connected to his backstory as a Sewer Rat/Street Kid in the lower levels on Coruscant- my favourite trope ever)

Guilt- Sabine (I like to think about Sabine and Kallus Being Besties™- and there's such a huge potential too. Kallus and Sabine both being defectors and having similar pasts- at least about academy and the Empire- us just so much to work with! So here Sabine catches Kallus having a quiet panic attack ambecause he spiralled himself down to it with overthinking- she helps him calm down and they talk about defecting from the Empire and the guilt that comes with changing sides)

Overworking- Rex (the clone captain wanders around the base because he can't sleep, he figures he might take a calm, quiet walk at night- and then he sees Kallus sitting on the floor outside of the Intelligence HQ with a datapad and a few pages of reports on flimsi- he asks what he's doing there, since it's already around midnight and he looks like he needs sleep. Kallus says that he needs to work and that Draven literally pushed him out of the room when he was closing it for the night so Kallus just stayed and worked here- Rex rightfully calls it stupid and forces Kallus to have a walk with him- they take a break around the temple and as they sit and watch the base and the nature and the stars Kallus falls asleep on Rex's shoulder- this is also a friendship I cherish in fics, okay? 🩵)

Food- Kanan (when they eat in the mess or on the Ghost and Kallus is with them, Kanan notices something- he might be blind but he's the first one to realise that Kallus barely eats. And so he carries on with an idea already forming in his head and alongside that he realises Kallus never asks for medical help either or any help for that matter. Like he's trying to make himself as little liability as possible. He corners Kallus about that and after a lot of pushing, Kqllus finally breaks out a "I don't want you to waste resources on me". Oh believe me, they're gonna have a long talk)

Birthday- Hera (it's a foreign thing for Kallus to celebrate one's birthday- because the Empire sucks- and so after seeing how strange and out of place he looked when the crew threw a party for Sabine, Hera made a point to look through his file and throw him a party when it's his birthday 💚)

+1 Name- Kallus shares with Zeb (I just NEED Zeb to be the one to hear that, okay? A name is something so important about one's identity amd person and Zeb having shared his name of Bahryn with Kallus is just gonna make a full circle when Kallus shares his name with Zeb)

I love this wip dearly and I might work on it soon, since you already reminded me of its existence 🩷💕🩷

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Hello my dear! Tis I, (a very much more exhausted 😓) 💋 anon! Life is hitting me like a freight train and I’m exhausted in every sense of the word. Unfortunately, still no end in sight, just a burst of ask inspiration. 🩵

Can I steal a cuddle and a nap with one of your Phoenix Squad boys? Drip or Tungst maybe?

How would they react to a request for a cuddle and nap, complete with sad tooka eyes and grabby hands? Should I bring a snack? A fuzzy blanket and fluffy pillow? Should we go all out and make a pillow fort on my living room floor?

(No pressure, no rush to answer! Thank you for sharing your boys with us! 🩵)

Love,

-💋 anon

(@kiss-anon)

Kiss-anon, my beloved!!! I'm sorry this has taken so long for to do. I'm so sorry life is being difficult for you right now. I hope this brightens your day (or night, lol). I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUU 💚

*You walk into the living room where Drip is lounging on the couch with a pillow nestled between his arms as he watches a holo-film*

*Drip picks his head up excitedly when he notices you come in and smiles*

Drip: Welcome home, cyare!

*You don't smile back, but sigh and let your shoulders slump while you stare at him with sad tooka eyes*

*Drip frowns, gets up from the couch, and walks over to you*

Drip: Are you okay?

*You explain how life is beating you up right now and you just want to be comforted*

*Drip wraps his arms around you, gently squeezes you against him, and presses his lips to the top of your head*

Drip: What do you need from me, cyar'ika?

*You bury your face into his chest, grab his shirt tightly with both hands, and mumble against him what you want*

*Drip smiles, kisses your forehead, picks you up into his arms, and carries you over to the couch*

*You chirp at the sudden movement, but quickly lean into his arms*

*Drip lies down on the couch with you resting on top of his chest, and rubs your back soothingly*

Drip: Comfy?

*You nuzzle your face into his chest as an answer*

*Drip reaches up to pull the blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it across you, tucking in the sides to make sure you're cozy*

Drip: Rest here as long as you want. I won't move. Promise.

*You release a contented sigh and snuggle further against him, inhaling his soothing scent as his heartbeat lulls you to sleep*

*Drip kisses the top of your head and whispers against it*

Drip: When you wake up, I'll make us a snack, okay?

*You mumble incoherently against him with approval*

Drip: Sweet dreams, cyare.

[starr-finn]

Hi!! It's me again, I bring you another writing idea. I'm going to give you full control of everything, i.e characters, hc or one-shot, etc. All I have for you is the prompt: which characters would have the funniest/weirdest reactions to their s/o staring at them. The s/o was originally admiring them but spaced out and just didn't stop staring at the characters. (If you need help with the characters or anything, I don't mind stopping by to help out)

Also, I loved the headcannons for my last request! Thank you for writing it 🥹🩵

And a little message for you: how are you doing today? Don't forget to stay hydrated, take breaks, and eat something.

Awwww you are so sweet! I had fun planning this out, I went with the main 4 guys + Bain, because I love them

How the gang would react to you staring at them

Author's note: Not a complete copy of the prompt, but I'm scatterbrained rn, hope this fits, Chains' sucks a bit because I have no clue how to write him, like at all

Dallas

You had been staring at Dallas for a minute or so now, He had been working really hard lately, but he still looked just as pretty as he always does. Dallas feels you staring at him and looks over at you, confused.

"What is it dear? Is my hair messed up?" He runs his fingers through his hair, trying to fix it.

You smile softly and shake your head "nope! Just...thinking about how pretty you are..."

Dallas stops and blushes, looking over at you, before chuckling softly "That came out of nowhere, did you do something?"

You roll your eyes "No, that's not it" You smile and kiss his cheek before standing up and walking off

Dallas stares at you and smiles softly, wondering how he got so lucky

Chains

Chains had been cleaning his gun for a little while now, but you had been staring at him the whole time. He seemed to be ignoring the fact that he knew you were staring at him, until He noticed you smiling. Then he looks over at you.

"What are you smiling at sweetheart?" he asks, smiling softly at you

You giggle softly and lay your head on his arm "You..."

He chuckles and ruffles your hair, smiling softly "Yeah? what are you thinking about?"

You smile and lean your head over onto his shoulder "Just how lucky I am..."

And you both stayed like that, until he had to leave of course

Wolf

Wolf had caught you staring again, and instead of asking like he normally does, he just stares back, then he notices the lovestruck look in your eyes, and he can't help but smile. The thought of you just staring at him, just so In love with him, it never fails to make him smile.

Wolf sits beside you and wraps his arm around her waist, just holding you close, and everything felt right for him. He couldn't help but fall more in love with you. You both sat there, holding each other, more in love then you had ever been. It was very quiet for you and Wolf as a couple, which worried people at first, until they saw the two of you, huddled together on the couch, then most people just shut up and left you both alone. eventually, you felt his weight being shifted over onto you and look over at him, he had fallen asleep holding you, you smile and lean your head over onto his head, kissing the top of his head, all you could think of, was how much you loved him.

Hoxton

James wasn't really that much of a lovey dovey type, but then you came in, you were super lovey dovey, and he thought it was super cute. everytime you stare at him with the most lovesick look in your eyes, he feels like his heart is about to explode, he loves you so so soooo much. Right now, he was sitting on the couch, watching a movie. You had been watching the movie with him, but you got distracted staring at him again. James took a second before staring back at you.

"What are you staring at darling?" He smirks softly and chuckles

You blush a bit and look away "Well...I think you're really handsome, and I really like staring at you..."

He chuckles and kisses your forehead "Awwww, that's sweet, come 'ere, love" He smiles and pulls you into him.

You lean your head into his chest, smiling softly. You never understood how a man like Hoxton could become such a lovey-dovey dork, but you loved him, and he loved you.

Bain

Bain was sitting at his computer, doing some research on some new contractor that had just reached out with a job he had, Bain had told you that his name was the dentist, you didn't trust him because of how he found out about the gang, but Bain didn't seem to trust him either, and you trusted that he wouldn't put himself or the gang in danger. You were staring at him, you softest smile on your face, you were so in love with this man, he was so kind, loyal, and patient. Bain appeared to have noticed you staring because he takes his headphones off and turns around.

"What's up Lovebug? You've been staring at me for a few minutes now I'm guessing" Bain smiles and leans back in his chair.

You smile softly and sigh "I'm just...So happy to have you in my life, I love you so much."

Bain takes a few seconds, then stands up and hugs you as tightly as you can, he knocks back on the bed and holds you as tightly as he can. You smile and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him back. Bain ended up ditching work to cuddle with you all day.

[autumnapricot]

okay i need to write this here because you may think i’m crazy on ao3, but theory time because you said this is a scavenge hunt and i love fics that have me guessing a little and yours has me guessing alot!😶

okay. this is maybe delulu. but in the summary, it says charles is an officer gone off duty…so, police? then in chapter 3 it says that he has a file on max, so that „confirms“ my police officer theory. BUT. off duty?? means he is no longer an officer or? and why is he not? and then why does he have a file? and what does seb have to do with it? are they doing illegal stuff with files….and who is seb to charles like what does he do? is he a shady mafia boss!!?! and what secrets does max have!!! that charles and seb want to know about maybe/ probably? and also i can‘t shake the feeling that u‘re being mean to us and playing us in chapter 3 because of the „charles is kind“ thing from max. but then again he really is so sweet and careful with max😭 which i love so much! and i love the small things you described as max noticing but then againnnn maybe that is the deceiving part? and charles himself literally said that he doesnt think he‘s a kind person..is that supposed to be like..he‘s trying to be a good person but he knows he‘s not for whatever he‘s doing to max with seb

I HAVE QUESTIONS

hello dear anon🥰 (sorry for the belated response)

oh wow, you went digging digging! i love that!! :) there are quite some easter eggs hidden in there

i‘m never know what‘s a spoiler and what not so for anyone who may wants none at all, i‘ll put it under the cut

charles is indeed a police officer though yes, off duty.

why he is off duty and why he has max‘s file nevertheless will be explained in chapter 5/6. chapter 6 specifically is entirely charles centric so we will get to know all about it, also seb makes his appearance in chapter 5! aaalso seb works for the police too ;)

oh i love the way you interpreted that scene! that‘s fairly interesting!! 🤓 i think it will also be revealed why charles feels that way in chapter 6 :)

thank you for reading and your thoughts, i love all of them!

🩷🩵

[hees-mine]

dear hees mine,

i've been an avid reader if your fics since playtime and there was a time when i would long onto tumblr just to read another part. your writing stood out to me because it was different, your plots were different and your writing was mature. i've read all your fics and of course, playtime is my favorite. it hurts me to see you go but it hurts more to know there's nothing i can do about it. i would tell you to ignore the people in your inbox, but as a fellow writer, i know that's easier said than done. i've seen so many asks over your blog which simply ask 'part 2?' or 'is there gonna be part 2?' and each time i've seen them i always felt bad. those people, aren't even praising, they just think if you like a robot who simply exists to manufacture fics and cater to their needs. people don't realize how much difference some words can make. if someone had asked "hi i loved xxxx and i really liked when xxxx i was wondering if there was gonna be another part to it? no pressure though" then it would've made some change because then you know that the person genuinely enjoyed your writing and appreciates it. my blog is small and i don't receive many asks so i don't know how you feel. but i do know how gross and disgusting it might feel when you open your inbox and it's just a bunch of people demanding another part. there's nothing i can do to make you stay even if i want to. but if there's a chance you ever come back, i might go off anon and send an ask genuinely. ik there's nothing i can do to change your decision, but i hope that someday in the near future you click back into your account and even if you don't write, i'll still log in to hear from you. your blog means comfort to me. i hope you take care and lead a healthy life. i hope all your dreams come true and you surround yourself with beautiful and kind people.

with love, someone on the internet

My heart🥺🩵 you’re gonna make me cry

Thank you for thinking so highly of my writing it really means a lot to me and I’m so happy to hear you’ve been with me for this long

Exactly the whole ignoring of the inbox thing is like the most difficult thing to do

See you get it and I think it might only be a feeling a writer can understand is that after a while of constantly being asked for a part two it does really make you feel like a robot it feels that they don’t see you as a person who spends their time writing for others for free

It’s just like perform for me while I give you absolutely no incentive to perform

The fact that even my other anons and readers were also noticing that was being asked about part twos so often is really telling I think a reader of mine actually kinda made a joke about it cause that’s just how much it was happening

Exactly it was not so much the asking for part two it was the way it was happening and that’s what I think most people don’t realize which is why (not saying other people can’t understand it) I think it’s mainly writers who feel this way is because we know what really goes into it

You may think it’s just writing but it’s more than that it’s us putting ourselves out here and this is a bit off topic

But I’ve received death threats for sharing a fic to the internet while many enjoy it some don’t and these are some of the things that I’ll list writers go through maybe to give a little more insight

First you have to gain the courage to share a fantasy with people on tumblr you’re basically anonymous on here but it can be a little nerve wrecking to post something a little more taboo or maybe you’re just scared to post in general(which my blog leans towards the taboo side and if you wrote that you’re bound to be talked about) posting playtime took a lot of courage from my end but luckily It was received well for the most part

Second and this one isn’t really a big deal but I know some of us find it difficult to make headers and we tend to take a lot of time on that so even though it’s just a picture it does take time to arrange it the way that is pleasing to our eyes

Third naming a fic can also take time

Fourth touching back on the subject of what to post you’re going to receive backlash and if you’re sensitive for lack of a better word it will take a toll on you

Fifth not everyone is going to like you which is fine but just get ready for those ones that will come into your inbox just to hate and talk down to you for absolutely no reason

I’m gonna stop here but I think I have a few good examples that a lot of us can relate to ones that a reader may or may not understand

Furthermore all of the above mentioned couple with the demands it may not seem like a lot but it is especially for ones mental

I literally just saw a whole war going down over someone “plagiarizing” someone else’s work (not sure if they copied or not but that’s all I’m gonna say) but she received death threats when it was never that deep

So no it’s not just a “part two” it’s not just a “blog” it’s not just “fanfic” this shit can get dark fast

Now that I’ve mentioned these things I might make a post stating some other things that writers go through cause I really want to shine a light on this and make it a big deal

But to steer back in the direction of what the topic is what it comes down to is really just being mindful of what you do so hopefully my situation will just allow one person to think before they say certain things

Thank you for this long beautiful lovely ask ilysm🩵 but I also hate you because you’re making it nearly impossible to leave 🥹 all you guys really are the love i received from everyone is just unfathomable I didn’t know you guys even thought of my page as something comforting I didn’t know everyone thought of my writing so highly and it really warms my heart to know that cause that’s really all I ever wanted 🩵