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moonstruckme · 2 months ago

Note

hello my sweet gorgeous mae!!

how we feeling abt a fic where reader has some difficulty regulating her emotions when she’s upset and just some casual poly!wolfstar dominance. girl honestly just needs a hug and someone to validate her feelings tbh

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!! I did give her a reason for her upset which in retrospect I probably should have just left vague but I hope it doesn't take you out of it and if anyone knows anything that makes them think this relates to me in any way no it literally doesn't why would you think that

cw: somewhat subtle/implicit d/s dynamics (really just a couple joking mentions of "rules" or "bans")

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re grateful to come home to an empty apartment. No sooner does the door shut behind you than the sob that’s been building in your chest jostles its way out. You hug your bag to your front and go to the floor, crying.

You don’t hold back. You let tears flow down your cheeks and take short, jagged breaths to fuel even more, curling your knees towards your chest and pushing your fingertips into your forehead.

Your heartbeat is loud enough in your ears that it takes you a second to register the sound of footsteps on the stairs, but you notice when they pick up their pace as they draw closer. Not, evidently, so empty an apartment after all.

“Dovey.” Remus sounds gutted. You open your eyes, and he looks it, too. Sirius comes up behind him, both of their forms blurring as they crouch in front of you. “What happened?”

You shake your head. “I—I didn’t—” You’re crying like a child, all choked sobs and snivelly voice. “I didn’t—”

“Shh, that’s okay.” Sirius takes your face in his hands. His hold is firm but his thumbs gentle as they brush over your cheeks. “Just nod yes or no for me, my love. Are you hurt?”

You shake your head.

Some of the worry eases from his features, but his brows pinch sympathetically. “Just sad?”

You open your mouth to answer him, and a hiccup of sobs spills out.

Sirius makes a pained sound and pulls you to him. Remus murmurs, “Oh, sweetheart.”

You try to speak again into the material of Sirius’ shirt, to apologize for coming home like this, but both boys shush you, Sirius rubbing your back while Remus gives your arm a squeeze and leans over to kiss your head.

Remus takes your shoes off for you, and Sirius helps him ease your bag off your shoulder without ever really loosening his hold on you. They move you to the couch. Your boyfriends work in quiet harmony, one always comforting you while the other takes measures to make you more practically comfortable.

“Dove, listen to me,” Remus says after a while. “You’re going to make yourself sick. Take a deep breath.”

You try, inhaling only for it to come jerking back out of you on another sob. “I can’t.”

“You can.” Sirius rubs your back. “Keep trying, baby.”

They talk you through deep breaths for a while, until you start to calm and it’s only Sirius’ voice in your ear, low and reassuring while Remus goes to get something from the kitchen.

He passes you a cold glass of water when he gets back, while Sirius is scraping damp pieces of hair back from your face. Presses it into your hands.

You sniffle. “I’m not really thirsty.”

“You’re going to be dehydrated after all that. You don’t have to drink it all at once,” he says, and the message is clear: but you do have to drink it. “Take your time if you need to.”

You take a shaky breath, bringing the glass to your lips.

“There you go.” Sirius kisses your cheek. You love and hate when they gang up on you like this. You’re between them on the couch, quite literally the center of attention. It’s both comforting and overwhelming. “Now, are you ready to say what’s wound you up so badly?”

You swallow, nodding. “Sorry,” you say, and you still sound congested, “I didn’t think anyone was home.”

Sirius tsks. “You know the s word is banned.” He somehow manages to strike a tone that’s both loving and stern. “You don’t get to start bending the rules because you’ve had a bad day.”

“You shouldn’t feel like you can’t cry when we’re here, either, sweetheart,” Remus adds.

“Probably wouldn’t have made such a spectacle of it, though.” You attempt a feeble smile. Neither boy looks amused. “It was only that I got my rejection from the Lunds job.”

“Oh.” Remus' face creases with sympathy. He rubs your thigh. “You really wanted that one, yeah?”

You shrug, but tears fill your eyes again against your will, dribbling down your cheeks. “I thought I had a good feeling about that one,” you whisper. Sirius starts stroking between your shoulder blades again. “It was stupid.”

“I’m beginning to think we should ban every s word,” Sirius mutters. There’s no bite to it, though, and when you crack a smile he kisses underneath your ear. “It wasn’t stupid, baby. You were excited about it.”

Remus’ voice is a low hum. “It’s not just about this one job, though, is it?”

You look at him, tasting salt in the seam of your lips.

“You’ve been anxious about all this for a long while,” he says, thumb moving over your knee in a slow, soothing back-and-forth. “I think you put all your stock into this one, and now it’s caught up to you, but this was never the only one that mattered. You can still find a job somewhere else.”

“I just…” You draw in a breath, trying to steady yourself. “I thought I was so perfect for this one. If they didn’t want me” —your voice wavers— “how can I expect to ever get one?”

“Angel, I love you, and you know I think you’re a genius ahead of your time,” says Sirius, “but that is some very shoddy reasoning. You’ve no idea who else applied. They might’ve had fucking superman in their stack of applications, and you could’ve been their second choice. That’s not going to happen every time.”

“But it is still,” Remus tells you, taking your hand in his, “very hard to feel like you weren’t good enough. I’m sure all you’ve been putting in without getting results weighs on you, yeah?”

You bite down hard on your lower lip to keep from bursting into tears again. Somehow Remus always knows how to get to the heart of the issue.

“Yeah,” you say softly.

“Oh, I know, sweet girl.” He pulls you into his side, kissing your head. “You’ve worked so hard. But it’ll all pay off in the end, alright? What’s say we have a break for tonight. No more applications, just relaxing.”

“Yeah,” Sirius agrees for you. “After a good cry like that, I think a film and some cuddles are in order.”

“These aren’t already cuddles?” you joke wetly.

He makes an offended squawking noise. “Not proper ones. Get your cozies on and let Rem make us a hot cocoa, babydoll, and then we’ll remind you what real cuddles are like.”

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urfavlarry · 8 months ago

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I recently got into School bus graveyard and I COMPLETELY understand the hype, idk if im the only who does this... but literally the moment I was done I went to tumblr for fics, but there's like none?? So maybe some dating headcanons for the group!! ^^

Dating Headcanons for the sbg characters

Ashlyn Banner

best person to have a lazy day with tbh

i swear yall would be like “should we go out today” look at each other for 5 seconds and say “nah”

she would teach you some gymnastics and laugh when your just lying there complaining how you aren’t flexible

probably is more of a person that gives you gifts, or gives you a hug in stead of comforting you with words

she would be a bit awkward at first probably

also I don’t think she likes excessive physical touch cuz red confirmed that Ashlyn is autistic but when she gets used to you she would be okay with it but still, don’t go too hard on her

you let her play/stim with your fingers

you’re always there for her when she gets overwhelmed and she loves you so much for that

doesn’t call you that many nicknames probably a short version of your name but if your name is already short then probably just love or babe

if you speak another language she would definitely wanna know some words or learn with you

if it’s your mother language then she would be like “omg how was [your country] like!”

probably is a nerd in some sort of way

anyway probably a great girlfriend to have but only if you aren’t the type to be really really and I mean REALLY extroverted

Taylor Hernández

this girl is such a cutie!!

would plan dates, sleepovers, night outs..

drawing/picnic dates are a must

watching the sunset or sunrise together on the rooftop

calls you cute nicknames like sunshine, mi vida, sugar and that kind of stuff

is very affectionate

cuddles !!

shes the little spoon probably but if you’re feeling down then she will gladly be the big spoon

you would definitely braid her hair if you know how, if you don’t know then there’s another idea for a date! teaching you how to braid hair!

probably isn’t even that awkward at first probably a little bit shy but gets pretty confident later on

the best partner to have if you’re insecure

makes your insecurities disappear in a heartbeat

overall a 11/10 girlfriend !! we love taylor :D

Tyler Hernández

he is probably a tsundere tbh

acting like he doesn’t care but when you are alone he babies you sm

no matter if your bigger then him, stronger, smaller, it doesn’t matter, he babies you no matter what

don’t let the others know tho

isn’t afraid to show you off like girl bffr

holds your hand, has his hand on your waist, kisses you on the forehead, cheek or lips before class starts (even if you are in the same class)

uses nicknames like mi amor, mi reina/mi rey, baby ect.

nicknames with him are endless

movie night is a must

probably would take you to his baseball practice

has a separate album for you only

everyone in the group can tell he’s love sick like he looks at you with heart eyes

a jealous type probably

would beat up anyone and everyone who looks at you the wrong way

he’s probably touch starved and he hides his feelings from you because he just prioritises you over anything

you gotta full on force him to tell you what’s wrong but after a while he opens up to you normally

a 100/10 boyfriend the poor boys been through too much

Logan Fields

gardening dates!!

gives you flowers when you’re sad or just whenever to make your day!

stargazing dates

yapps your ear off about astrology (you let him tho)

calls you nicknames like bunny, hun, love

gives you honest opinions on everything

regrets his choices when you get grumpy afterwards

makes it up to you by cuddling you or kissing your whole face

introduces you to his grandparents

they approved of course because they just trust that he can pick himself a good s/o

hugs from behind!!

reads you a book when you can’t sleep

helps you with your work but doesn’t do it for you (Barron trauma)

best person to seek when you want comfort and or advice

gives you honest advice so if you were in the wrong expect him to tell you lmao

if you listen to music on vinyls or CDs then definitely brings you to a music shop and he will spoil you rotten

loves listening to your music taste no matter what genre it is he just wants to bond with you

he’s such an adorable and amazing boyfriend it mealts my heart !! :D

Aiden Clark

be prepared to patch this boy up every single second of the day

and also getting him out of trouble every single day

he is a wild one for sure

doesn’t mean he’s a bad boyfriend

loves showing you things he learned on his skateboard and he tries to teach you

does that thing where he holds your hands while your on the skateboard, tells you to jump and flips the board for you

that tik tok kind of shi

while on the topic of tik tok, does every silly couple tik tok trend with you lmao

yapps your ear of all day every day

not the best person to ask for advice from but he will hold you until you feel better!

best cuddle buddy

and hug buddy

if you don’t like physical touch then idk if you could have a relationship with him, he will CLING to you as if his life depended on it

loves it when you play with his hair

makes a playlist for you two

calls you nicknames like rockstar, doll, my love, bae, babe

definitely has you saved as “future wife🤭❤️” or “the mother of my kids🥵😍”

he be weird like that

loves to have you in his lap

idk he probably likes you ass sm, not in a sexual way but just lays on it, smacks it, squishes it..

only in private tho

honestly a pretty good boyfriend but he’s more of like your child then boyfriend

Ben Clark

a chill one for sure

hugs, holding hands are a must

listening to music through his headphones how he did with Taylor in that one episode

jealousy scale is um pretty high

you gotta reassure this boy because he’s just scared of loosing you

would fr fight 100 people at once for you if you asked him to

whenever he gets angry, you’re there for him when Aiden can’t and he appreciates that

loves it when you hold his hand and rub circles on the back of it

forehead kisses >>

probably doesn’t give you that many nicknames since he doesn’t speak, either a short version of your name, bae or hun

the best listener ever (not because he doesn’t speak)

when you start to yap and just talk about the most random things he has your back against his chest as he rests his chin on your shoulder

very chill and overall good boyfriend

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bluexiao · 1 year ago

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#monsieur neuvillette’s relationship headcanons

NOTES. finally a work after months. i missed this, tbh. but hey, here’s my new husband for you. might also have a part 2 of this i feel like i haven’t written everything yet

WARNING. real identity spoilers (nothing too explicit from the current archon quest i haven’t even done it yet oops)

NEUVILLETTE

(Before)

Before the relationship began, it took a long while for him to truly process what he had been feeling towards you—to be frank, he even thought he was getting sick (which was impossible. He never got sick.), though that thought comes to an end the moment he realizes that the effects only happen when he is around you. Only you.

He had heard of love before. Had seen love. Had read about love. Not just the platonic or familial ones, but also romance and more. And yet, he does not understand them, simply because he considers them as something someone like him would not eventually feel.

And yet, it all changed when he first saw you. Curiosity turns to admiration, and admiration turns to anxiety—which is never good; the sweating on his hands and the back of his neck, and the pressure on his chest whenever your presence comes.

He was only reminded of the term romance when he consulted Sigewinne about it.

“Does it only happen around a certain person, Monsieur?” “Monsieur, I think you are simply in love,” she says. “Humans do tend to have the same symptoms but it does not necessarily mean you are sick. It appears to me that you feel the same as well. Does their presence give you happiness?”

He did not even need to ponder over his answer. What he does ponder over is how he should deal with it. The evidence is overwhelming, and there is only one verdict. And yet, where does this lead to?

Contrary to popular belief, he will confess as soon as he is sure of his feelings. He is an honest and honorable man. He would confess his feelings if he could, but it did take some time knowing how busy his schedule was.

The only thing that probably was able to push him to go through was the Melusines. It took them weeks to have him clear his schedule up for a nice little dinner date that they had planned and suggested to the Monsieur.

“Recently, I have come to realize that I have developed a romantic interest with you, Y/n.”

“I do not intend to put pressure on you. I shall accept whatever judgment you make. I do not wish for you to change how you treat me in any way.”

“If you may… I can only ask to indulge in this meal with you for tonight. Your company eases me greatly.”

Brutally honest. It may even drive you crazy how this all seems so easy on him.

But in reality, his palms were sweating underneath his gloves and the slightly cool sensation of the utensils as he blurts out his intentions for setting up such an occasion. His heart was pounding but he could not process whether this was about how you looked especially good tonight or his nervousness with finally confessing his feelings for you.

Or maybe both. Either way, all evidence of such leads to only one thing—you.

Bonus; I do think he’ll reveal who he is first before he gets into a relationship with you but that really depends on how observant you are.

(During)

It was a surprise to him, at the very least, how he had managed to keep you as his lover despite what he lacks. He knew how he was not well-versed with “feelings” per se (just in his mind), but you, the angel that you’ve always been, chose to be with him.

The sudden change did not occur to him much, actually. But he did notice how much his mind lingers to you more often than not, and how he will end up recalling how you are now his one and only lover.

It takes time for him to adjust, but it all started with frequent conversations (much more than before), then sending flowers to your place every other day (constantly), though most of the time they’re delivered by someone else, knowing how busy he is as the Chief Justice.

Or when he started to first brush his gloved fingers to yours.

When he does something, it will be constant. (Maybe this also comes from being responsible and disciplined as shown by being the Chief Justice). All the things that he did before, he still does them now—unless you’ve told him no, of course.

He is definitely a man of his honor!!

And would always ask for your permission first before he touches your hand, or holds them, or hugs you, or kisses you.

He does like pampering and showering you with “offerings” though.

Stuff like buying your favorite flowers or trinkets once or twice a week, making sure you have enough supply of the best water out there. And even with how he always has an umbrella or parasol for you (ones he got ever since you got together; one in his office, one that’s foldable for him to carry under his coat, and one he gave to you for every time you leave the house.

Through the course of the relationship, he learned about the beauty of life, which is how he sometimes brings you flowers despite its short life. However, he still secretly prefers giving you trinkets for your hoard of gifts from him, mostly because it symbolizes his everlasting love for you. (He’s very romantic like that, even if he does not know he is)

He will also introduce every single Melusine in Fontaine. At first, it may surprise you how he knows all of their names, but it will surprise you even more the moment you realize you could do the same. If you do, he’ll love you even more (which he thought was impossible at first as he knew he already loves you very much).

The Melusines will treat you as their other parent the moment it is known amongst all of them that you’re his lover. Sigewinne, for one, would always give you a personalized gift. She would also always send you letters to ask how you are and probably be quite excited whenever you accept an invitation for a cup of tea.

Monsieur Neuvillete is not jealous, but he is possessive and territorial. It’s a dragon instinct, forgive him.

It also comes with being protective. Though he’s not feral, he would make sure to always shield you away from any harm, or anything that might take you away.

One time, he had to deal with a bunch of… shameless individuals who had tried to make a move on you, and though he has great trust on you, he cannot help but have the same self-deprecating voices in the back of his mind.

Though instinctively, he finds himself buying you trinkets or flowers again.

“Hm? You just gave me one earlier, didn’t you?” You look up with a confused look but still hold that smile that stirs butterflies in his chest.

He nodded. “The flowers reminded me of you, mon amour. I could not help but feel the urge to give it to you.”

It does not stop him from giving you offerings.

Of course, he cannot just give up on you. The ruling of whoever deserves your love and affection the most. Of course, he is at an advantage knowing that he’s already your lover.

“Is there something wrong?” You looked up to him, hearing the pitter patter of the rain outside through the taps on the windows. You had your hands on his shoulders, gently rubbing them with your palms.

“It’s nothing, mon cœur, no need to worry.” He flashes you a reassuring smile, and yet, at the back of his mind, he wondered how you could have thought to check on him. Is it perhaps the gloominess in the atmosphere?

You frown as you look at him intently, “There are times when you’d shower me gifts with a saddened look on you. I’m worried, is all.”

He stares at you then. Ah, so you noticed, he thought.

He chuckles as he shakes his head and stands right next to you. “May I?” He opens his arms and you nod and dive right into his chest. He enclosed you into an embrace, relishing the feeling of your warmth.

He kisses your forehead then. “Allow me to bask in your presence for a while.”

For short, one of the best. Definitely a 100/10.

#genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #genshin x you #genshin neuvillette #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff

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krypticcafe · 2 years ago

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Reader/ Y/n coming back to base covered in blood and tortured while 141 + Alejandro had no idea where reader was since they left in the morning.

Reader is "the little sibling/adopted child that we must protect all cause" to the boys

Love your writing so much ❤️

As Long as I'm Here

rating: mature

pairing(s): platonic gn!reader x 141 + alejandro

warning(s): canon-typical violence, language, drugs and drugging, torture, blood, military inaccuracies, no use of y/n, no beta read

a/n: Hope you don't mind that I decided to put this all in one long fic, kinda struggled with the writing direction with this since I had to rewrite it multiple times and I had to cut it short so I'll probably make a part two?

synopsis: it's going to take a lot more than simple torture to keep you from going back to the 141.

Part Two is now up!

"I'll be back before they know it."

Those were the last words you thought to yourself before you hopped off the helicopter. You and a team of other capable members of SpecGru and the Los Vaqueros had left before the crack of dawn for a joint operation and anticipated coming back by the afternoon if things went smoothly. And of course, they didn't.

No, you couldn't be afforded such a luxury as seen by how you were overwhelmed in battle. You wish you could've said you did your best, but god dammit you should've checked before entering that building, thinking you could lure the enemy away from the rest of your team. Compared to the hours you spent strapped to a chair with nothing but fluorescent light and a buzzing in your ears to compliment the throbbing pain in your head, you started to prefer the option of joining the rest of your teammates becoming target practice instead.

It didn't help either that the people who caught you were sick bastards. You could deal with the punches, a kick to the crotch, the hair pulling, cigar smoke, the blades, and having your body slammed around the place. It was nothing compared to practice with the 141 and prior missions you had with them. But when the metal cart of syringes came out, you knew you were beyond fucked, even when you had a swollen eye, a busted lip, broken ribs, open cuts, and burns. They took it a step further and injected experimental drugs you were supposed to investigate, homemade concoctions as they lovingly called them.

By pure shitty luck, you only escaped because one of them was stupid enough to clean up after offering you a glass of water when you woke up after passing out, dropping and shattering it in front of you, and not bothering to clean up. When your guard left to go take a piss break, you threw yourself to the floor and tried to squirm your way to the glass, using a shard to cut through your ropes. Once your guard came back, you pretended to still be bounded to your seat, coaxing him to come closer as if you wanted to confess something, and slit his throat. From there, it was easy now that you had a gun.

Or at least it was supposed to be. Maybe it was the heat of the moment or the adrenaline of finally being able to move, but the drugs hadn't fully kicked in until now. Your whole world seemed to sway, or maybe it was just you. You couldn't tell, all that mattered was that you could fight. Based on the layout of the building you were in, you were still in the same area as you were before. It took more bullets than you would've liked to admit to take down the guards that were in your way, but how was it your fault when the only two thoughts in your head were 'Where the fuck is my stuff' and 'God I'm gonna puke'.

Whoever kidnapped you really didn't think things through. Security was tight on the second floor but the bottom floor just had a single guy in the kitchen messing with a bag of crackers. You aimed your gun at him and click!

Click!

Clickclickclick!

Shit.

Well that caught his attention. You ducked down right when he reached for his gun, tossing your empty one to the side now that you'd be doing this the hard way. Waiting with bated breath, you took your window of opportunity, lunging when he had to reload. You took him by such surprise that he fumbled to put in another magazine and that allowed you to knock the weapon from his hands and tackle him to the ground. The both of you struggled on the hardwood floors for what felt like hours, but it was only a minute at most. Even in your feverish, dizzy, survival-instincts-only state, you overpowered him and stabbed him with his own knife.

Towering over the body, you gasped for breath, feeling your lungs struggling to expand and contract if you didn't force yourself to focus on the task. Great, now you're sweaty, weak, bloody, and out of breath. Based on how your hands started trembling, your symptoms were getting worse. Pacing around the area, you found your bag on a couch and fished around for the radio, yelling out your callsign before the rest of them would discover why their friends were suddenly so silent over comms.

"Sending coordinates, get a chopper over to exfil ASAP. And a damn medic."

The 141 were back from their own mission when they had heard the news of your distress call. Ghost was on the verge of strangling one of men that was on the team with you if they didn't add the fact that you made a reckless move for the sake of the team. Ghost could agree that it was something that only you would do despite his constant arguing with you and his protectiveness over you. He'd keep an eye out for you from the shadows both on base and in the field, be the one to challenge you to push your limits during your sparring matches, make sure you were well-trained so you could protect yourself. And yet you would instead protect the 141's asses countless times.

Ghost was brooding in the helicopter, well, more like sulking after a mission with you and Soap. During the crossfire, he wasn't able to keep an eye out for his flank and see the grenade flying for him. In a desperate move, you shoved him out of the blast range with all your strength, landing you with a couple burns and injuries, but nothing fatal. You knew he was going to get moody afterwards, giving a knowing glance to Soap before turning back to Ghost and nudging his leg with your boot.

"Hey, L.T, you were in the British S.A.S, right?"

"..."

"Just answer the question! C'mon Ghost, for me? Pleaaaase?"

"Affirmative."

"So back then, if you were to get bathroom duty, would they call you a Loo-tenant?"

"... negative. Was promoted after joining the 141." He turned his head away, and despite his blunt, by-the-book response, you knew he was smirking under that mask of his, especially with how Johnny and you were both snickering your asses off.

"Ghost?"

Simon snapped out of his thoughts and looked back at Soap, visibly concerned for the masked man but reading him all at the same time. Years of working together helped Soap get over the boundary of Ghost's silence and stoicism, and Ghost wasn't the only one looking out for you after all.

"You alright, L.T?"

"Solid, just need a talk with Price."

"I know what you're thinkin', and as much as I'd love to shove it to the bastards, they're going to need us when they come back. Price will come up with something, we just hafta wait 'til then." For once, Soap was the voice of reason and Ghost couldn't argue with his point.

"He's right, you know." Price stood a few feet away from the two in the hall, "Kid's capable of themselves but they're going to need a shoulder to lean on when they get here. Maybe a couple stitches, too."

Price hoped it was only going to be a few stitches. Though he knew it probably wasn't the case. Alongside Roach and Gaz, he had trained you for these situations, ensuring it would never happen and it never did thanks to his mentorship. He saw you as one of his own and ensured that you'd be able to fight tooth and nail so that it would never end up like this. But now that it has, he could only wonder what could've been done to you for you to get captured.

He didn't want to wonder.

"Bloody hell, what did they do to you?" Gaz muttered, watching as you stepped down the ramp with a soldier aiding at your side. There was an attempt to bandage you up on the way, though it only seemed to be temporary since your bandages were already stained with blood and some of it oozed out. Even the bandages around your head didn't stop the crimson liquid from spilling down the side of your face. The soldier passed you to Gaz, immediately urging that your injuries be tended to.

"Something's wrong, look." Roach helped support your other side to allow Gaz to examine you.

With a closer look, Gaz found that your pupils were disturbingly dilated, eyes glazed over in a way that made you almost look dead. You were muttering and mumbling nonsense under your breath, something about the mission and wanting to go home.

Gaz swallowed an anxious breath and nodded, "We'll get you home soon, buddy. Roach, help me take off their gear."

As soon as the other man began unclipping your vest from your body, it seemed something had pulled a trigger in you.

"No... no you're not- don't fucking touch me-!" You slurred, weakly tearing yourself from the hands of your friends. It surprised Gaz that you had the energy to punch his chest with that much force, but it broke his heart all at the same time. Roach guessed that you were so out of it that you could barely comprehend your surroundings, hell, you probably thought you were still in captivity. It hurt to imagine your perspective, and how vulnerable you felt, thinking they were your enemies.

"What's going on here?" Price's voice rose over all the noise as people tried to calm you down, Soap and Ghost following behind him along with Alejandro, who joined them with no hesitance after hearing what happened.

Roach approached them, "I don't know, the Sergent just came back like this, like they're in some kind of haze."

"They're drugged, at least, I think. I took a look at them and they don't even look like they recognize us," Gaz struggled to keep you from falling but you were insistent on getting away from him, from everyone. Thankfully, Ghost had come up from behind you without being noticed and locked you in a hold. You tried to flail even more, but with your weakened state and Ghost's strength, all you could do was yell with sloppy words for him to let go of you. It hurt them all to hear you yowl and yelp like an animal in pain, but they knew that you'd only hurt yourself more if Ghost didn't keep you like this. He forced himself to ignore your cries and clenched his jaw, focusing on keeping his temper and how he was going to let it out when given a chance.

"Steamin' Jesus, Price, I thought this was a cartel recon mission?" Soap seethed at the thought of what might've happened. Torture was one thing, but it was this whole new level of "fucked-up" that had him wanting to snap and tear at the throats of your tormentors.

"It was," Alejandro spoke up, "There was talk of a new drug on the market, released even though it was 'incomplete'. Nobody know that it was more dangerous than it was supposed to be, nobody outside of them." The words left a sour taste in his mouth. Cartels being reckless was nothing new to him, it was something he had seen time and time again. But it was the lack of awareness, the blatant disregard for safety and society, and how they betrayed their own people that made him livid. As a leader, he emphasized his loyalty and dedication to his soldiers, which was why he considered those who worked for and with him to be friends or even family, like you. So to him, if someone had messed with you, they were messing with him and his army as well.

Price glanced in the direction of you and Ghost for a moment, watching you finally begin to calm down from tiring yourself out. His gaze softened after you finally went limp, but still breathing, and he felt a pang of disappointment in himself for the briefest of moments. Maybe if he had known you'd leave so early in the day, he could've better prepared you. Maybe he should've assigned one of the others to join you so you wouldn't be in this predicament. But he didn't know. He didn't expect things would go this far south. None of them did.

"We'll finish the job first and then," Price took one last look as you were taken away on a stretcher, unconscious but writhing with a pained expression.

"We give them hell."

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luveline · 1 year ago

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idk if you would write for this I checked your guidelines and wasn’t sure but I would LOVE a pregnancy scare with Aaron (May be reader is younger than him?)! And she’s just panicked bc he’s older and already has a kid and etc and the test can be pos or neg totally up to you!

thank you for requesting! 1.3k, fem (possibly) pregnant!reader

cw reader's and hotch's attitude towards pregnancy is mostly positive

Your period is twelve days late.

That is not a small amount of time.

You don't notice it at first, and when you do you figure it's a few extra days without an irksome pain, a balm to soothe the ache of your absent boyfriend and a hard job, but when Aaron comes home from a case and you still haven't started your period, the panic begins to set in.

You have a hard time keeping things from him for obvious reasons. His being a human lie detector felt fascinating when you first met, but now it's making things worse. You would've liked some time to yourself for denial, only he can always tell when something is wrong, though it's clear to you he's not sure exactly what it is. He'll realise eventually, you know.

"Let's go to the store," he suggests, his hand flirting with the back of your neck. "You always feel better after a sweet treat."

You've been to the store today, unbeknownst to him, for some emotional support chocolates and a small box you'd rather not think about. You'd hoped that he might get called away to give you time to open it, but without him you're not sure you have the strength.

You hadn't expected to feel this way. You want desperately to tell him, but you're just so, so scared.

"I don't feel like going anywhere."

He hums as his hand moves to your shoulder, squeezing a loving path down to your hand. Jack bangs a toy down in his bedroom across the way, and the washing machine spinning from the utility closet sounds louder than it ever has before, like a rocket about to erupt. You don't know what it is that gets you, but suddenly you're overwhelmed, a confession stuck in the back of your throat as Aaron meets your panicked gaze.

"What's wrong?" he asks. "Here, honey, sit down."

He guides you to a kitchen chair.

"What's wrong?" he asks again, bending at the waist.

Your head rushes with white noise for a second. You wet your chapped lips with the tip of your tongue; you've missed your period, but it isn't that alone that scares you. Perhaps in an instance of a psychosomatic symptom, you feel weird, other. Something has changed. And you're starting to feel sick.

"Aaron, I don't know what to do," you say.

His eyes widen with an expression you don't often see. "Has something happened?"

It's so, so hard to say. "I think I've messed up."

"Not in any way I can't fix."

"Maybe I have," you say miserably, panic hot behind your eyes.

He shakes his head. "You haven't. I swear you haven't. Please, tell me what's wrong before I have a heart attack."

You can't say it while he's looking at you, and when you do it's hardly audible. "I think I'm pregnant," you breathe.

Aaron pauses. You can't even raise your head, anxiety its own heartbeat and nausea rising fast. You let out a gasp you'd held in and try to calm down, even while every little part of you worries about what he's going to say.

You don't know if you want to be pregnant, or have a baby, but you know it would probably break your heart just a touch if Aaron didn't want to have one with you. You're not sure why. And Jack is a beautiful kid but he's growing up. Aaron isn't young.

"How sure are you?" he asks, tone completely measured.

"I… I feel it," you say. "I know that's stupid… 'N my period is really late, nearly two weeks now."

"You feel it?"

"I feel sick." Your elbows on your thighs and the backs of your hands pressed to your eyes, you curl in on yourself. "I'm so scared."

"You're scared?" Hands on your forearms. Aaron gets down on his knees in front of your chair and rubs fondness into your skin, his voice a soothing, familiar comfort as he says, "Sweetheart, you have nothing to be scared of. Don't be scared. I'm right here."

Tears like a shock, relief and horror mixed into one. "I'm so stupid, I haven't even taken the test yet, I don't know why I'm acting this way."

"We all react differently to foreign situations than how we might imagine. What's important now is that you take a breath, because otherwise you'll panic."

While you're afraid of what he's thinking, you trust him implicitly. "Okay."

"Okay," he says, pulling your hands away from your face. "Just breathe, honey."

He's more patient than you knew another person could be. He wipes your straggling tears with his hand without a word, his breath coming in even inhales and exhales for you to follow. The small spike of panic swiftly melds to plain old tears. You're embarrassed. You're unhappy. You and Aaron certainly weren't trying for this occasion.

"What are you scared of?" he asks eventually.

"Of you. Of what you're thinking, and– and what if I– I mean, what if I'm pregnant?" you ask, as though pregnant is a new word. When you said it at first, you'd meant, what if we end up having a baby together? But now you're more inclined to think about the process itself. What if you're physically pregnant?

"Well, you have absolutely no reason to be scared of me. I love you." Aaron puts his hand just under your ear, his thumb to your cheek. "Whatever happens. Nothing else matters to me besides you."

"Because you want a baby," you say unhappily.

"Who says I don't?" He smiles at you softly. "I think we should've had this conversation a long time ago, but the long and short of it is that I love you. I love you and I'll do what you need me to."

"I figured you'd be done having babies," you say, still hesitant.

"Evidently not." He laughs, and you laugh back and he acts like you've hung the moon. "If you're scared of being pregnant, maybe you should take the test before you wind yourself up, hm?"

"I guess I'm acting pretty silly, huh?" you ask, sniffling and wiping your eyes, the two of you caught in breathy laughter again.

"Hormonal, maybe," he says. "Don't be scared. I don't want you to be scared."

"What do you want?" you ask.

"I just want you to stop crying. It's not right…" He strokes your damp cheek. "If I'm honest? If you take that test, and you aren't pregnant, or if you don't want to have a baby," —his face is calm, a small smile playing on his lips— "then I don't want you to, either."

"But if I am?" you ask.

"Then I will be so, so happy, because it's you."

A missed period isn't necessarily indicative of pregnancy, and you could be freshly pregnant or four whole weeks and the test could still come out negative. Maybe your weird feeling is indigestion. Whatever happens, you really believe that the man in front of you is here for whatever answer you find.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," he says, bone deep sincerity turned to something lighter, fondly teasing as he lifts himself up and hugs you close. "You know that."

You let him hold you for a little while, calming down, looking at the positives and all your options. "You think Jack would be happy?"

"He'd love a brother or sister… eventually."

You wipe your tears and runny nose in his shirt and he does you the generosity of pretending not to notice. If you are going to have anyone's baby, you'd want it to be his.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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gremlingottoosilly · 9 months ago

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Kruger telling his sister she'll be an idiot to not date König. And to stop being a prude, it's not like she has much options and he's sick of hearing König drone on and one about his sister

Being pushed into these relationships by your brother isn't something you expected or even wanted - but it's only logical when you think about it. Krueger is his best friend, as sociopathic as he is, and he kinda wants you out of his hair. He probably can't wait to turn the apartment into fuck drug house of his dreams once his dumb sister is out of the picture - so, naturally, you refuse to even talk to Konig, knowing that your brother's friends are probably the same grade of assholness as he is. However, you are a practical woman and you kinda want money. And normal life. And fucking move out of your brother's apartment without need to share a room with three other people if you were to move on your current budget...and Konig seems like an easy target. Hell, he is an easy target - can barely say two words when around you, the same degree as shyness as you are, and together you almost resemble a normal, functional couple. A perfect guy for someone like you - and you saw the kind of money he earns. A golden ticket into the nice life - as much as you hate proving your brother right, Konig isn't the worst option out there. Maybe second worst, on a bad day. Konig is...nice, when things are official. Yes, he is weird in bed, always trying to force you to do weird stuff like calling him sir in bedroom and making you act like his pretty soldier and a housewife, but the money is enough to make up for it. Almost enough to make you consider him as a serious option - he is asking about marriage, after all, dating for a month already made him think about tying the knot. You're not sure how to respond - everything moves fast, too fast for your liking, you just overwhelmed and tired and... Looks like Konig isn't really going to ask you though. You stare at the ring in front of you and you just fucking know why Kruger wanted his crazy friend out of his hair as soon as possible. You just didn't know he'd sacrifice his sister for it.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #loser!konig

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mindless-existence1 · 13 days ago

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Based off of this fic by this awesome writer ♡

Contents:Phone sex, humping things, Kinda dom reader kinda not, gender neutral reader

Dazai x gn!reader smut

Your conversation with your coworker and friend Kunikida is cut short when the phone in your pocket begins to ring. It catches you by suprise but it turned to understanding when your boyfriends name was on the screen. "Give me a second Kunikida, it's Osamu."

The blond gave you a nod and went back to his desk across from you. "Hey babe, you doing ok?" That morning Dazai had a headache and sore throat that kept him home. It was a miracle you were able to go to work, your needy boyfriend was trying his hardest to keep you home.

It took a minute for you to hear anything on the other line, it seemed Dazais phone was far away from him. A blush rose to your face and your eyes widened at the hushed moans coming from the other line.

You immediately recognized the needy whines to be Dazais. You quickly move your head, looking almost frantically around the office. The only other person there was Kunikida, the focused man worked hard at the desk across from you.

"Osamu?" You kept your voice steady, careful not to give your coworker and knowledge of what was going on on the line. "Y/n I need it so bad." Dazai's voice was shaky and pathetic, it wavered with a sob.

"Yeah? And whats that baby?" You sounded almost caring and worried, hoping to make Kunikida unaware. He doesn't pay you any mind, scribbling something into his notebook.

Back at home Dazai was desperately humping st anything he could get his hands on, which was currently a pillow found on your shared bed. He's wearing one of your shirts, it's an oversized one, he seems to drown in the large fabric.

It smelled like you, Dazai feels like he's swimming is everything you and it's borderline overwhelming. Yours words feel distant yet flood his mind in a way that makes him dizzy.

Dazai's breath comes in short gasps, he sighs into the open air. Mindlessly humping the soft surface feverishly. A mantra of your name falls from his hips like a prayer.

You get up from your desk, excusing yourself from Kunikida. Mumbling some half assed excuse he probably doesn't believe. "Tell me what is it you need Osamu." Dazai let's out a choked off moan at your words.

"Need you," his words drip from his lips like honey, "need you so bad." Your boyfriend practically ruts his hips into the pillow beneath him with a hard thrust that makes him choke on a sob. It's not enough.

Dazais hands shake as he adjusts to a better position. He pulls the hem of your shirt upward, giving himself a nice view of his cock. Its red, and throbbing, practically weeping at the understimmulation.

"Yeah I wish I was there with you baby." The brunette brings his hands up to his sweaty faceat your words, covering his droopy eyes. “So pathetic,” He mutters to himself into the empty room, his voice sounding almost amused.

"What are you doing hun?" Unashamedly Dazai thrusts his hips downwards, hoping he wouldn't have to try and formulate words at the moment. A stuttered response is barley picked up by his phones microphone.

"Use your words Osamu." The sterness in your voice makes his rutting turn sporadic. "Humling a pillow." Dazai practically shoves the words out of his mouth in-between high pitched whimpers.

"Oh you whore." You chuckle, looking around the empty office you had found, praying Kunikida doesn't come looking for you. A sinful whine tears it's way through your boyfriends throat at the degrading words. "Did you really feel sick this morning? Or were you just that horny?"

Theres nothing coherent Dazai can come up with as an answer, just nodding dumbly knowing you couldn't see. You feel your core twist at the lewd sounds coming from the phone pressed to your ear.

When you realize Dazai's moans were sounding like they did when he was close you decide to urge him on. "You close babe?" A deep groan is your answer. “That’s it baby, make yourself feel good, you deserve it.” you praise.

Dazai whimpers in response, jerking hims hips desperatly, abusing his cock in the way you would if you were with him. Your sweet words over the phone spurr the brunette on, his thrusts into the soft cusion getting faster, whines and whimpers spilling out of his mouth.

You could feel desperation building in your own gut at the pretty sounds coming from your boyfriend. “Come on baby, come for me.” You breath heavily, Dazai chokes out a broken moan as he comes over the once clean pillow.

He withers in on himself when he continues to rut his hips for a few thrusts, the way you would overstimulate hom. You feel a blush and smirk come to your face at the sound of your boyfriend coming from his own doing.

It takes a minute for Dazai to fully stabilize himself, he hesitantly drags his hips forward before hissing at the shining feeling. You faintly hear the brunette work on controlling his breathing, you doing the same.

"Osamu?" After a moment of silence you hear the man start laughing. It makes you chuckle, slightly in confusion but you wait for Dazai to explain. "Oh my god." Is all he says in-between heaving breaths. "Osamu you ok?" This makes him go into an even deeper laughing fit.

At this point you were slightly concerned yet couldn't stop the smile that rose to your face, nor the giggle the bubbled up in your throat. "I can't beieleve I did that my god." You roll your eyes, of course he'd get embarrassed after the fact.

"Hey babe?"

"Yeah Osamu?"

"Would you commit double suicide with me?"

you chuckle at the breathy lovesick words, "Maybe another time baby."

#bsd x reader #bsd #bsd dazai #bungo stray dogs #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #Dazaix reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x you #bsd smut #dazai x reader #Dazai smut #Dazai x reader smut #Bsd smut #bsd fanfic

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mr-gallows · 30 days ago

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James Sunderland Headcanons/Analysis! (SFW) Stuff about his job, dad, music, tidbits

These are based on Remake James! It's a little easier to come up with headcanons for remake James, since he's a bit more expressive here than the OG. Job:

James is an office clerk (this is confirmed canon), which means he has a job revolving around paying attention to detail. He keeps track of financial records, transactions, orders, supplies, and various other things that an office needs to run smoothly. He's messy, but he's good at his job and has a careful eye for detail. It makes sense for him since he's able to notice small things in Silent Hill that help him progress.

James is well-versed in using office software and spreadsheets, and sometimes is tasked with doing minor trouble-shooting for coworkers. James has an ongoing battle with a faulty office printer.

James prefers this kind of work, even if it doesn't exactly fill him with joy. He's definitely an introvert, but doesn't mind helping others if needed.

James does NOT participate in casual Friday. He always wears his button-down shirt and tie. Prefers not to get too casual about work; he likes to keep those spheres separate. Dad:

James sold his car to help with medical bills that weren't covered by his insurance. His father gave him his old 1977 Pontiac Ventura for free. It's the car his dad drove when he was growing up.

The car barely ran and James taught himself how to fix it. It was his only distraction from Mary's illness.

James has a strained relationship with his father, because he's just super weird. He's caught his dad saying and doing strange things, for instance, holding the box with Walter Sullivan's umbilical cord and just staring at it. One night, James came home from hanging out with his friends, and saw his dad in the kitchen, holding up a knife and staring at the wall as if in a trance. James was freaked out and decided to just come back home in the morning.

This might be dumb and random but I feel like Frank Sunderland doesn't have the best hygiene and his apartment smells. James is probably used to gross stuff. He doesn't like it, but he can deal with it.

James's mom left because she couldn't handle being around Frank anymore. James ended up growing up through his teen years with just his dad. Music:

James strikes me as the kind of guy who listens to The Police, Hall & Oates, maybe REM. Enjoys music with prominent bass lines. He probably listens mainly to hits from different bands as well.

Tends to prefer light rock. Metal isn't really his thing.

James's guilty pleasures are Duran Duran and Cocteau Twins.

I have his shuffle here!:

Tidbits:

James doesn't seem to laugh much, but he does have a sense of humor somewhere in there. Usually it's pretty dry and sarcastic. He appreciates observational humor.

Mary was fond of puns. He always pretended to hate them and roll his eyes, but would end up smiling or chuckling anyway.

James isn't much of a sweets guy, but his favorite ice cream flavor is vanilla. His favorite soda is Coke. He liked Coke floats as a kid. Favorite dessert is apple pie.

Drinks his coffee black.

Tried to tend to Mary's garden when she was sick, but he was overwhelmed by it and being unable to regrow the plants just made him feel worse. He didn't have her green thumb.

#silent hill 2 #silent hill #sh2 #james sunderland #sh2r #sh2 remake #silent hill 2 remake #james sunderland headcanons #james headcanon #mary sheperd-sunderland #mary sunderland #james and mary

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writer-freak · 1 month ago

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Michael Myers x Ghostface x Fem reader

Kinktober week 5 - Threesome, double penetration and primal

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: NSFW, female reader, fingering, unprotected sex, anal penetration (reader receiving), p in v, no proper prep, nipple play (reader and Michael receiving), biting, petnames, english isn't my first language, probably forgot something

A/n: So life got in the way so this took longer than expected but better late then never. I'm planning on writing a male and probably also gender neutral version of this which shouldn't take too long but I finished this first and wanted to post. I'm really not used to writing two characters actually engaging with each other so I hope this turned out fine.

The night was cool, the sound of rain overwhelming you while the fog moved around the realm. You ran, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you maneuvered between the trees, your heart pounding in your chest.

Every rustle, every shadow seemed to come alive as you sprinted deeper between the trees. You knew this was a game, a sick, thrilling game that had been crafted just for you by the two predators on your trail. Michael and Danny had already wiped out the other survivors, but they kept you alive. And you knew why.

They loved the chase, the adrenaline, the hunt. And you couldn’t deny that some twisted part of you loved it too. The feeling of being prey, of being stalked by not one, but two deadly killers, had heat pooling in your belly. Your relationship with them was… complicated, to say the least.

You weren’t just some faceless survivor to be eliminated. No, with them, it was different. The three of you had a connection that went beyond the usual hunt, a dark and exciting bond that kept you coming back for more. And tonight was no different. Your breath hitched as you glanced over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of movement in the shadows.

Michael’s figure loomed in the distance, his expressionless mask a stark contrast in the darkness, moving silently through the trees. You could almost feel his gaze on you, like a physical weight pressing against your skin.

And then there was Danny just out of sight, but you knew he was there. He always was, lurking, waiting to strike when you least expected it. A thrill shot through you as you pushed yourself harder, your legs burning as you darted between the trees, your heart hammering in your chest.

You had to keep running, had to stay ahead. But deep down, you knew it was only a matter of time before they caught you. They always did. And part of you couldn’t wait for it.

The sound of footsteps grew louder behind you, the rustle of leaves and the snap of twigs signaling their approach.

You could hear Danny’s familiar voice, taunting, teasing. “You can run, sweetheart, but you know we’ll catch you. It’s only a matter of time.” His words were filled with amusement, like a cat playing with its prey.

A sharp breath escaped you as you stumbled, your body hitting the ground hard. For a moment, everything went still—the forest, the air, even your heartbeat seemed to pause. And then, you felt it. The presence of your hunters closing in.

Before you could scramble to your feet, a shadow fell over you, and a strong hand gripped your arm, pulling you up. Michael. His mask was blank, unreadable, but you could feel the power radiating off of him as he loomed over you, holding you in place with ease.

Danny appeared at your other side, his knife glinting in the low light as he crouched down, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “Caught you,” he purred, his voice thick with satisfaction.

Your heart raced, but it wasn’t fear that made your pulse spike it was something far darker, something more primal. You could feel heat pooling between your legs as they both loomed over you, the rush of being caught setting your nerves alight.

“What do we do with you now, huh?” Danny’s voice was teasing, but the hunger in his voice was obvious as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear.

“You look like you enjoyed the chase, didn’t you?” You couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped your lips as his words sent a shiver down your spine. Michael’s grip tightened on your arm, pulling you even closer to him, his body solid and unmovable against your back.

Danny chuckled, his breath hot against your skin. “I think it’s time for your reward.” By the time they had dragged you to a place better suited for your reward, the tension between the three of you was nearly unbearable.

Michael’s grip on you hadn’t loosened, his hands possessive as they roamed your body, Danny removed his mask his sharp gaze following Michael's every movement, his smirk never fading.

They didn’t speak much, not that Michael ever did, but you could feel the silent understanding between them. Danny was the talker for both of them, his taunts and teases filling the air as they slowly, stripped you down to nothing, their hands roaming over every inch of your skin with a reverence that sent sparks through your body.

“Look at you, all worked up,” Danny muttered, his lips trailing down your neck as he pressed you back against Michael’s chest. “You love this, don’t you? Being the prey. Being hunted.” His voice was thick with amusement, but you could hear the heat beneath it, the barely contained hunger in his words.

You whimpered softly, your body trembling as Michael’s hands slid over your waist, his grip firm, holding you in place as Danny’s mouth moved lower. “You’re gonna look so good between us,” Danny murmured, his teeth grazing your collarbone as his hands wandered lower, his fingers brushing against your thighs in a featherlight caress. “Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Michael’s grip on your hips stayed strong feeling him holding onto you as Danny took his time savoring every inch of your exposed skin. He let his hands roam over you, leaving trails of heat wherever he touched, teasing you with feather-light caresses that left you squirming between the two of them.

Danny’s fingers brushed over your cheek as he leaned in, voice a low, tantalizing whisper. “You know he’s watching you,” he murmured, letting his thumb graze your lower lip. “Watching every little reaction, just like I am.”

His gaze darted to Michael, who stood like a shadow behind you, unmoving but you could feel him watching everything.

Danny’s eyes shone with a playful light as he shifted, moving close enough to press his lips against Michael’s mask, planting a slow, deliberate kiss against the blank face. The motion was almost mocking, yet oddly tender, as if daring Michael to break his silence.

You could almost see the tension crackling between them, and Michael’s hand slid down to grip Danny’s wrist, forceful but not resisting. You watched, breathless, as Danny chuckled, peeling the mask up just enough to reveal Michael’s mouth.

For a moment, Michael was exposed, his lips parting as Danny leaned in again, capturing them in a hard, possessive kiss. You felt heat coil inside you as they moved against each other, Michael’s hand tightening around Danny’s arm with an unmistakable intensity.

After a few moments, Danny pulled back, his lips curling into a wicked grin. “See, he’s hungry too,” he said, his voice low, almost taunting. “And it looks like you’re the prize for both of us.”

Danny’s mouth returned to you, hot and insistent as he worked his way down your neck, leaving a path of bruises and bites in his wake. His teeth grazed your skin, sharp enough to sting but not break, his tongue following each nip with soothing warmth.

Behind you, Michael’s large hands slid possessively over your waist and hips, his rough fingertips gripping with a force that left you trembling.

Michael’s breath fanned against your neck as his hands moved upward, skimming along your ribs and finally cupping your breasts. His touch was firm, possessive, his fingers brushing your nipples in rough circles that made you gasp.

Without a word, he leaned down, brushing his lips against the nape of your neck. Each kiss he left lingered hotly on your skin, his mouth branding you as his.

Danny’s hands slipped lower, fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. His mouth curved into a wicked smile as you whimpered under his teasing touch. “Look at you, already trembling,” he murmured against your collarbone.

“Can’t decide if it’s from fear or excitement, can you?” His voice was mocking yet dripping with desire as he knelt before you, pulling your legs wider to make room for him.

Michael’s hands slid back down to your hips, steadying you against his broad frame as Danny settled between your thighs. Michael’s height left you caught perfectly between them, his powerful body supporting you from behind while Danny’s lips and hands worked their way lower.

You felt Michael’s hardness pressing against the curve of your backside, a silent reminder of what awaited you, as Danny’s fingers teased and tested you.

Danny’s lips trailed down your body, leaving a burning path across your stomach. His fingers splayed across your thighs, thumbs brushing just close enough to your core to make you ache. “So ready for us,” he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction as he spread you open.

His eyes flicked up to yours, watching your every reaction as his tongue darted out to tease you. A soft gasp escaped your lips as his fingers pressed against your slick folds, spreading you further.

“You’re already dripping,” Danny teased, his voice dark and mocking. “So desperate for us to ruin you.” His thumb pressed against your clit in slow, deliberate strokes, testing how much you could take.

He circled the sensitive bud with agonizing patience, his fingers slick with your arousal as he finally slid one inside, the stretch making you moan.

Michael’s hands gripped your hips tightly as Danny worked. The firm press of Michael’s chest against your back left you grounded, his presence overwhelming even in silence.

One of his hands moved upward again, fingers brushing your neck before sliding into your hair and gripping it firmly. The tug forced your head back, exposing your throat to him. He leaned down, lips brushing over your pulse before nipping at the skin.

Danny’s smirk widened as he pushed another finger inside you, the stretch exquisite as he began to curl them in slow, deliberate strokes. His free hand gripped your thigh, keeping you in place as he worked you open. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice low and dark as his fingers thrust into you with increasing intensity. “You’re taking me so well.”

His eyes darted upward, meeting Michael’s over your shoulder. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?” Danny said, his tone laced with smug satisfaction. His pace quickened, fingers plunging deeper as his thumb pressed harder against your clit. The combined sensations left you trembling, your body arching into him as he continued his unrelenting rhythm.

Michael’s grip on your hair tightened, pulling you back against him as he let out a low, approving growl. His free hand slid down to your chest, cupping your breast roughly as his thumb brushed over your hardened nipple.

Danny leaned in closer, his breath hot against your inner thigh. His tongue darted out, flicking against your clit in time with his fingers. You cried out at the sudden burst of sensation, your legs shaking as he pressed deeper. “That’s it,” Danny whispered, his lips brushing against your skin. “Let us hear you.”

Michael’s hand joined Danny’s, his larger fingers brushing against Danny’s as they both worked to stretch you further. The contrast in their touches was maddening, Danny’s quick and teasing, Michael’s deliberate and firm. Together, they pushed you higher, their coordination leaving you helpless between them.

Danny pulled back slightly, his lips wet and glistening as he smirked up at you. “You like that, don’t you?” he taunted, sliding his fingers out just enough to leave you feeling empty before plunging them back in. His pace was relentless, his free hand now gripping your hip to steady you as he curled his fingers just right, hitting a spot that made your breath hitch.

Michael leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear hearing his heavy breathing. His fingers pressed harder against your clit, circling with calculated precision.

Danny’s mouth quickly replaced Michael's fingers, his tongue flicking over your sensitive nub before sucking it between his lips. The combination of their touches left you gasping, your body arching into them as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak.

“Come on,” Danny coaxed, his voice low and commanding as he added another finger. “Let go for us. We’re not even close to done with you.”

You cried out, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Michael’s grip on your hair softened, his hand sliding down to your waist to steady you as Danny slowed his pace, letting you ride out your climax.

When Danny finally pulled his fingers away, he brought them to his mouth, his eyes locking with yours as he licked them clean, savoring every drop.

Michael released his hold on you just enough to guide you down, his hands firm as they moved you to straddle Danny.

Danny exchanged a smirk with Michael, their unspoken understanding clear in the intensity of their gazes.

Michael’s silence spoke volumes as he gripped your hips, his strong hands cold against your heated skin. The warmth of his breath against the back of your neck made your stomach twist with anticipation, a stark contrast to Danny’s bold teasing. The quiet exchange between the two men only intensified the heat pooling in your belly, leaving you trembling with desire.

Danny’s smirk never faltered as he took the lead, his mouth finding yours in a bruising kiss that left you gasping for air. His tongue teased and tangled with yours, possessive and challenging, as his hands roamed over your body.

Behind you, Michael shifted slightly, the hard press of his cock against your ass making your breath hitch. His quiet authority paired perfectly with Danny’s unrestrained hunger, the two of them overwhelming you with their opposing but somehow matching energies.

“You’re ours,” Danny murmured against your lips, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver racing down your spine. “Let’s see how well you can handle us.”

Michael’s hands tightened on your hips as Danny’s slid lower, gripping your thighs as he positioned you over him. His cock pressed hot and firm against your entrance, the sensation enough to make you whimper.

Danny’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he guided you down onto him, the head of his cock slipping inside slowly, teasingly. The stretch was exquisite, his cock thick as he pushed deeper, filling you inch by inch. “That’s it,” Danny groaned, his hands gripping your thighs as he watched your face contort with pleasure. “Take me… every fucking inch.”

Behind you, Michael moved closer, the heat of his body warming your back as he pressed you down onto Danny’s cock. The contrast of their touches, had you trembling between them, completely at their mercy.

“You feel so fucking good,” Danny muttered, his voice thick with lust as he thrust up into you, slow and deliberate. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you steady as he began to move, each thrust driving deeper, testing your limits. “So tight, so perfect. God, I could fuck you all day.”

Michael’s deep grunt behind you sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins. Danny paused for a moment, letting you catch your breath. Just as you began to relax, you felt one of Michael’s thick fingers trailing lower, brushing lightly over the tight ring of muscle there.

The sensation made you tense, your breath hitching at the unexpected touch.

“Relax,” Danny murmured, his hands gripping your hips reassuringly as he leaned up to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Let him take care of you.”

Behind you, Michael’s large hands splayed over your ass, steadying you as his finger pressed more insistently against your unprepared entrance. The intrusion was slow, deliberate, and you couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped your lips as the tip of his finger slipped inside. The sensation was strange, new, and your body tensed instinctively against the unfamiliar pressure.

“It’s your first time, isn’t it?” Danny’s voice was a low, teasing purr against your ear, his fingers brushing lightly over your thighs. “Don’t worry. He’ll make sure you’re enjoying it.”

Michael’s finger pushed deeper, the thick digit stretching you inch by inch. The burn was sharp at first, but it was impossible to ignore the way your body responded, the slight twinge of discomfort giving way to an unfamiliar pleasure.

You squirmed beneath him, torn between nervous anticipation and the growing heat building low in your belly.

“You’re so tight here,” Danny murmured, his gaze dark and hungry as he watched your face. “Fuck, I can already tell how good you’re going to feel for him.”

Michael didn’t speak, but the way his finger moved—slowly curling, testing, coaxing you to relax—said everything. Another finger joined the first, the stretch making you whimper softly as your hands gripped Danny’s chest for support.

Your breaths came in short gasps, a mixture of nerves and arousal as your body adjusted to the unfamiliar sensation.

“You’re doing so well,” Danny praised, his fingers sliding up to tease your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through you. “Just let him open you up… you’ll love it.”

Michael’s fingers worked deeper, the steady, relentless pressure making your body shudder as he prepared you for what was to come. Despite the initial apprehension, you found yourself relaxing into his touch, the heat pooling between your legs overwhelming your hesitation.

The stretch was intense, but the raw, almost primal pleasure that accompanied it had you trembling in his grasp.

When Michael finally withdrew his fingers, you couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped your lips, your body clenching at the loss. But there was no time to dwell on the emptiness. The blunt head of his cock pressed firmly against your entrance, the sheer size of him making you gasp. The pressure mounted as he pushed forward, inch by inch, the stretch, unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

Danny’s hands gripped your hips tighter, his lips brushing against your temple as he whispered, “Breathe, sweetheart. You’re doing so good for us.”

The thick head of Michael’s cock finally breached you, the sensation sharp and overwhelming as your body struggled to accommodate him. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but the low, guttural groan that rumbled from Michael’s chest sent a thrill through you, the sound of his pleasure drowning out the lingering discomfort.

“Fuck, she’s perfect,” Danny murmured, his hands sliding over your thighs as he guided you down onto his cock, filling you completely once again. “Taking us both so well.”

Michael’s deep, steady thrusts began slowly, the purposeful pace giving you time to adjust to the stretch. The burn eased with each movement, replaced by a growing, heady pleasure that made your body tremble. You could feel every inch of him, the thick length of his cock driving into you with an intensity that left you gasping for air.

The feeling of them both inside you at once was almost too much to bear. Danny’s cock filled you completely, his pace quickening as Michael stretched you even more, the two of them moving together with a rhythm that left you utterly wrecked. Michael’s hands gripped your hips with bruising force, his silent dominance a stark contrast to Danny’s teasing words and frantic movements.

“Look at you,” Danny groaned, his voice thick with arousal as he watched your every reaction. “Taking us both like you were made for this.” His hips bucked up to meet Michael’s thrusts, the combined sensation sending waves of pleasure crashing through you.

Michael leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as he drove into you with unrelenting force. The sheer power of his movements left you trembling, your body stretched and filled completely, every nerve ending alive with pleasure.

“You’re ours now,” Danny murmured, his voice a dark, possessive growl. “And we’re not letting you go.”

Michael’s silence only made his movements more commanding, his cock driving into you with precision, hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. His grip on your hips never faltered, his strong hands keeping you exactly where he wanted you as he pushed you closer to the edge.

Danny leaned up, his lips finding your neck as he nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin, leaving marks in his wake. “You’re gonna come for us, aren’t you?” he whispered against your ear, his voice a low purr. “I can feel it… you’re so fucking close.”

Your moans filled the air as they both fucked you, their cocks stretching and filling you in perfect unison. The pressure inside you built with every thrust, your body trembling as they drove you higher and higher, their movements relentless.

Michael’s hands slid up your body, one of them tangling in your hair as he pulled your head back, exposing your neck to him. His breath was hot against your skin as he pressed his lips to your throat, the faintest growl escaping him as he marked you with a sharp bite.

Danny’s wicked grin widened as he watched Michael’s rare display of possessiveness. “Even he can’t resist you,” Danny teased, his voice full of amusement as he thrust up into you harder, drawing a loud moan from your lips. “You’ve got us both completely fucking hooked.”

Danny’s cock slammed into you with unrelenting force, his fingers digging into your thighs as he chased his own release, while Michael’s powerful thrusts sent shockwaves of pleasure through you with each movement.

Your body was trembling, the pressure building inside you, threatening to spill over as they both pushed you closer to the edge. Michael’s thrusts grew harder, his grip on your hips bruising as he drove into you with monstrous intensity, while Danny’s teasing fingers played with your nipples, heightening every sensation.

And then, without warning, Danny’s hand slid up to Michael’s chest, his fingers brushing lightly over his nipples, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he toyed with the silent killer. Michael didn’t react at first, but the way his hips faltered for a split second told you everything you needed to know.

Danny chuckled low, his fingers twisting Michael’s nipples, drawing a low, barely audible grunt from the man behind you.

“So even Michael’s sensitive here,” Danny teased, his voice laced with amusement as he continued to play with Michael’s chest, his fingers flicking and pinching the sensitive nubs. “I knew it… even the big guy has his weak spots.”

Michael’s thrusts grew more erratic, his breath coming in heavier pants as Danny continued to tease him, his hips slamming into you harder as he tried to maintain control. But Danny’s playful touch was relentless, his fingers working Michael’s nipples in time with his own thrusts, making you both shudder with pleasure.

The sight of Danny teasing Michael sent a fresh wave of heat through you, your body trembling as the tension built to an unbearable level. You were so close—right on the edge—and you could feel Danny grinning beneath you, sensing how close you were to falling apart.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Danny murmured, his voice low and rough as his hand slid back down to your hips, gripping you tightly. “Let go. Let us hear you scream.”

The pressure inside you finally snapped, and you came hard, your body trembling violently between them as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your walls clenched around their cocks, drawing low groans from both of them as they continued to fuck you through your orgasm, their combined thrusts driving you to heights you didn’t think were possible.

Michael’s grip on your hips tightened as he followed you over the edge, a deep, guttural grunt escaping him as he buried himself deep inside you, his release spilling into you in hot, thick pulses. Danny wasn’t far behind, his hips bucking up into you one final time as he came with a low, drawn-out moan, his cock twitching inside you as he filled you completely.

For a moment, the three of you were still, your bodies tangled together in a heated, breathless mess. The only sound was your ragged breathing the intensity of your orgasm leaving you entirely spent.

Danny was the first to break the silence, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as he brushed his hand against the bitemark on your neck. “You look so fucking good like this,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Completely wrecked and perfect.”

Michael didn’t say anything, but the way his hands remained firmly on your hips, holding you in place even as he softened inside you, spoke volumes.

Danny chuckled softly, his hands sliding over your waist as he shifted beneath you, his cock still buried inside you. “Think she can handle another round?” he asked, his voice full of mischief as he glanced up at Michael.

Michael’s grip tightened slightly, his silent response enough to make Danny laugh. “Guess that’s a yes,” Danny said, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. “Better get ready, sweetheart. We’re not done with you yet.”

18+ Divider by: @cafekitsune

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daisymbin · 1 month ago

Note

48. "you taught me what love is, and no one else has come close." With Vernon and female

thank you for requesting!! 🫶

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check out my masterlist! // hansol's m.list

second chance prompt #48: "you taught me what love is, no one else has come close."

hansol stood on your porch, cradling the cat carrier in his hands, his nerves twisting into knots. the faint meow from inside didn’t ease his worry; if anything, it made it worse. he’d spent the entire night googling symptoms, wondering if he’d done something wrong, and now he was here. back where everything started and ended.

he knocked, swallowing the lump in his throat.

when you opened the door, his breath hitched. you looked the same but different—soft and familiar, like a dream he hadn’t let himself think about in a long time.

“sollie?” his nickname slipping from your lips was laced with surprise and affection he hadn't been expecting. “what are you doing here?”

he held up the carrier, feeling small under your gaze. “he’s not eating much, and he’s been acting… off. i didn’t know who else to call.”

you blinked at him, then stepped aside. “come in.”

hansol followed you into the warmth of your home, the scent of it hitting him like a wave of nostalgia. it was the same, down to the throw blanket on the couch. everything about this place felt like you—safe, steady, and a little too easy to fall into.

he set the carrier down carefully, watching as you unzipped it and coaxed the cat out. your hands were gentle as you examined him, murmuring soothing words. hansol watches as a pang of something bittersweet in his chest. you were always like this—calm, kind, and impossibly good at making everyone around you feel safe.

“hey, buddy,” you murmured, inspecting him closely. the soft tone in your voice made hansol’s chest ache. it wasn’t just for the cat—it was the same way you used to talk to him when he was tired or overwhelmed, the same kindness he never realized he’d miss this much.

you looked up after a moment, a small smile tugging at your lips. “he’s fine, hansol. just a little stressed.”

“stressed?” he repeated, relief and confusion mixing in his voice.

“yeah.” you sat back, letting the cat curl up on your lap. “all the back-and-forth between our places is probably confusing for him. cats don’t like changes, you know. he probably just needs some consistency.”

“oh.” hansol’s shoulders slumped slightly. he felt a little dumb for panicking, but mostly he felt… something else. something warm.

your teasing smile pulled him out of his thoughts. “you’ve changed.”

his brows furrowed. “what do you mean?”

you gave him a teasing smile. “you used to complain when he stole all my attention. now here you are, worried sick and showing him all this love and care.”

hansol looked down, a faint flush creeping up his neck. “yeah, well… people change, I guess.”

you tilted your head, studying him for a moment. the silence stretched between you, not uncomfortable but heavy with unspoken words.

his face flushed. “i mean… he’s important,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze. he wonders if you realise that this cat is the only thing that gives him some type of connection to you.

you laughed softly, the sound lighting up a corner of his heart he didn’t realize was still dark.

“you’ve really changed,” you said again, more softly this time.

hansol looked at you then, really looked at you, and something in him broke open. he thought he was over this. over you. but here you were, reminding him of all the things he loved about you, all the ways you made him feel like he was home.

“you taught me, you know,” he said, his voice quieter than he intended.

your brows knitted together, "taught you what?"

he hesitated, his hands gripping his knees. but then he thought about how much you deserved to know—how much he wanted you to know.

“what love is,” he said finally, his words trembling but certain. “you taught me what it means to care about someone. to put their happiness first. no one else… no one else has ever come close.”

the words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable. you opened your mouth to respond but found yourself at a loss.

“I didn’t realize it back then,” he continued, his gaze unwavering. “I didn’t appreciate what I had, and I’m sorry for that."

you stared at him, eyes wide, your teasing smile replaced by something softer, “hansol…”

“i’m not saying this to make things weird,” he added quickly, his voice tripping over itself. “i just… i realised i never told you how much you meant to me. and i should’ve. you deserved to hear it, to know."

you looked down at the cat in your lap, your fingers running absently through his fur. “we both made mistakes,” you said quietly.

“maybe,” he said. “but i should’ve done better. i should’ve fought for us.”

the room felt heavier, the air thick with unspoken words. hansol thought he might have gone too far, that maybe he should’ve kept those thoughts to himself. but then you looked at him again, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“you know,” you said, your tone light but your eyes warm, “if you keep saying things like that, i might start to think you want a second chance.”

his heart stuttered. “would that be so bad?”

your smile grew, your fingers brushing against his as the cat stretched between you. “that depends,” you said, your voice teasing but your gaze steady. “are you ready to share my attention with the cat this time?”

hansol laughed, the sound surprising even himself. it wasn’t just relief; it was hope.

“yeah,” he said, his voice soft but sure. “i think i can manage that.”

you smiled at him, your hand lingering against his for a moment longer. the cat purred contentedly, nestled between you both, as if sensing that maybe, this time, things could be different.

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mypoisonedvine · 1 year ago

Note

dark dilf delinquent season cillian lusting after the new neighbors daughter; who not so coincidentally has a penchant for undressing with her curtains open 🫣 & sneaking in guys who kinda (definitely) maybe resemble cillian? from her club nights 😭

he’s dark & like kinda pathetic but we love him anyway

i feel like this is too specific but I can’t get the thought out of my head 🥲

it is very specific but I'm not mad, and I love writing a pervert <3 but a dilf AND a pervert?! yes please!! obviously I love this concept cause I went a liiiiitle overboard with it, oops...

𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙤𝙧 | neighbor!reader x dilf!cillian

length: 3.3k

warnings: m and f masturbation, voyeurism, slightly dark but not very much, unspecified age gap, infidelity

When it first started, he really was just trying to read. It wasn't his fault that the book was boring, or that your curtains were open, or that he caught a glance of you in your window.

It was innocent then, too— he liked watching you do normal things, like put on jewelry or laugh on the phone with a friend. It made him smile... he wasn't sure why, but it just made him feel a little better after a long day, seeing you up there, reminiscing on his younger days as he got a distant view of yours...

But it had been months since it started, and it was far from innocent now. He'd become an expert at compartmentalizing the shame; he'd become addicted to the cycle, to the watching and the waiting and the sick anticipation— not to mention the fear that someday, you'd notice him watching. The fear, and yet, the hope.

"Fuck," he panted under his breath as he wanked himself— not too fast yet, but certainly much faster than the slow and teasing strokes he liked to start off with. You were taking off your shirt, pulling it over your head and folding your arms in that crazy origami way girls do that he'd never totally understood; he bit his lip as his eyes dragged over your back, trying to imagine how it would feel to run his fingers up your spine until you arched it just right—

He heard the kids yell downstairs and he stopped for a second, heart pounding with nervousness as he feared they might come up and knock at the door. He used to only do this when they were gone... but he couldn't pass up an opportunity like this, a perfect view of you stripping in the window.

The noises stopped and his movements started again, fisting his cock with a stifled groan as you reached behind your back and undid the clasp; even having seen your tits probably a dozen times by now, his mouth was slack and dry in anticipation of you turning around and letting him see them again.

You teased him for a while longer, messing with your hair and stretching your arms up until he found himself mumbling between panting breaths: c'mon, baby, show me— lemme see, sweetheart, fuck, please...

Sort of like willing a stoplight to turn green, it's obviously not possible but it will work at some point: you turned and faced the window, your eyes shut with a sigh as you started to open your jeans. He had to grip his cock's leaking head tight just then, too overwhelmed with the view of your breasts— he was afraid to come too soon.

He'd never had to hold himself back like this before, never delayed his gratification— because, normally, it's totally antithetical to the point of masturbation. He only ever jerked off for the gratification, and he only ever watched porn to help get there a little faster... but you, you were so much better than porn. The thrill of doing something wrong, the longing of knowing you (if not very well) in real life, the lack of control over you and being, in a sense, at your mercy as you undressed as slow as you wanted... it was all just terribly erotic. And he refused to let himself come until you let him see a little more.

You slid your jeans down your legs and he actually bit his lip, just to muffle his moan. "Yes," he whispered to himself, cock pulsing in his grip as he watched you step out of them, turning around to lay them over your bed— and giving him the perfect view of your ass in those cute cotton panties as you did it. "Fuck," he grunted, twisting his hand over his tip and feeling his hips jerk instinctively— he couldn't think of the last time he was so sensitive. "See what you do to me?" he chuckled to himself— he wished you could see it, but then again, he had his lights off in the room for a reason. All you could see was a dark window, and for now, he preferred to keep it that way.

You laid back on your bed, looking relaxed and contented as you ran your hand down over yourself— fuck, is she about to--?

You slipped your hand into your panties, and he tilted his head back with a heavy sigh, only allowing himself a second to shut his eyes as his balls tightened up, threatening to blow it all right then and there. He'd never actually seen you touch yourself before— though he had seen you take a vibrator out of your bedside drawer and, infuriatingly, go to take a shower where you presumably got to use it with complete privacy. The image in his head had been plenty to get off on that night, but seeing you now as your fingers moved under the thin fabric, your lips opening for what he hoped was a quiet little moan? It was almost too much to bear.

You spread your legs a bit, the angle giving him a hint of a view of what you were doing; he sat up in the chair, leaning to the side a bit, desperate for a better look at how you were touching yourself. Were you just rubbing your clit, or were you going to put a finger or two inside? "Baby," he panted to himself, watching your tits get harder as your hand moved, "baby... y-yeah, just like that, fuck..."

The sight of you playing with yourself was just too beautiful; he had to keep reminding himself to shut his mouth so he wouldn’t make too much noise, but then it would just fall right back open again as you arched your back.

“Feels good?” he noticed, raking his gaze over every sign of your pleasure. “Tell me how good it feels…”

He wanted to imagine your voice, then, the way you’d respond to him: feels so good, Cill. You’d never actually called him that, you always called him Mr. Murphy. He tried not to acknowledge how much that turned him on, but anyways, he couldn’t conjure your voice in his head anyways. He hadn’t spoken to you in weeks, not since you’d babysat for him and his wife… he tried not to acknowledge how much that turned him on, either.

Seemingly out of nowhere, you took your hand out of your panties and expanded your cheeks with a big sigh; he knit his eyebrows together, watching you roll over and grab your phone off of the nightstand by your bed. His sicker side instantly assumed you were going to find some porn to watch, but your lackadaisical attitude about the whole thing made it seem more like you’d had a sudden mid-masturbation urge to check Instagram. Kids and their phones, he thought to himself, even though you were far from a kid— he was just much, much further from one than you were, is all…

And, this should come as no surprise by now… that turned him on too. He’d come to be weirdly fascinated by his own perversion, finding it just as shameful as he did sexy.

His phone vibrated on the desk and his screen lit up— he wasn't going to answer it at first, nothing was more important than watching you right now... but then it went off again. He looked at it and back at you, seeing you getting up suddenly and walking around the room... surely you hadn't come already? It certainly didn't look like it.

Even though he couldn't imagine why you'd stopped so abruptly, he figured it was a good opportunity to make sure the messages weren't important. He awkwardly got up and grabbed his phone, feeling a bit strange about walking around with his jeans open and his erection poking out. Unlocking his phone to read whatever was sent, he felt a massive sigh leave his chest as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

He never even saved your number, but he recognized the previous conversation you'd had-- just a few texts back and forth about a little backyard gathering your parents were having, and some question about when you needed to come over to watch the kids, but you usually messaged his wife about that kind of stuff. But since he’d committed those brief conversations to memory, it took him only a split-second to know it was you— and, obviously, seeing that you'd just texted him, he thought his heart might just stop right then. He had to blink some blurriness out of his vision to even read them, with how fast the damn thing was beating.

hi mr. murphy.

turn on the lamp on the desk.

He whipped his head around to look back at you, only to find you smiling around a bitten lower lip, staring right into his window. Fuck. Fuck!

He set his phone down, not sure what to do— and quickly locking the screen as he realized you’d probably seen the glow of it. He groaned softly again as he watched you sit down on your bed again, facing directly towards him, those pretty legs spreading nice and slow as your hand moved over your panties again. Fuck.

He felt like he was in a dream or something as he flipped on the lamp— maybe it was an out of body experience. If he was out of his own body, he at least knew whose he wanted to get into: he never took his eyes off you as he slowly walked back to his chair, sitting back down in it and meeting your half-lidded gaze as you tossed your phone away and used your free hand to toy with one of your hard nipples. “Fuck,” he said aloud this time, seeing your eyes trail down to his cock— it was still out, of course, sticking up proudly against the black shirt covering his stomach. Maybe it was proud, but he was a little bit terrified, his face getting hot as he snatched the throw pillow nearby to cover himself with; he saw you laugh, sighing through his nose dreamily as he wished he could hear the sweet sound of it, and then shake your head with a grin.

You stood up then, turning around and bending over as you ever-so-slowly pulled your panties down, making him purr as he got a thorough look at your bare ass. You looked too damn good bent over like that— what he would give to stand behind you, pushing your shoulders down with one hand as he gave that cute arse a good spank with the other—

He saw you looking back at him, a proud smirk on your face; “Dirty girl,” he scolded under his breath, watching you stand up straight and sit on the bed again.

Your legs were pressed tightly together, and when he look up to your eyes, he found them focusing on the pillow in his lap; you met his gaze again, a pink tongue darting gently over your lips. A silent promise: I’ll show you mine if you show me yours. With the way it made his heart pound and his palms clammy, he felt like a schoolboy all over again.

He grabbed the pillow and slowly moved it away, your legs opening at the same pace in perfect time with it; he groaned through a tight jaw as he stared at your pussy, one of your hands running down to spread the sticky lips even wider for him. “Fuck,” he moaned, holding onto his cock tightly again as he felt totally helpless to the sight of it, unable to look away. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbled, starting to stroke himself as you bit your lip again and rubbed your clit with two fingers— the nails still had that baby pink polish, the one he’d watched you paint on a few nights ago. Why was something as simple as that so sexy?

Your mouth fell open, and your head tilted back; he tried to imagine how you’d sound, your sweet voice a little darker and deeper with pleasure. You rubbed yourself a little faster, a little harder, and he felt his lips curl into a sneer.

“Good girl, like that,” he panted, “play with it for me. Play with that cute little cunt— f-fuck, yes—”

You looked at him again, eyes glued to his cock, and he felt it flex in his grip as if it wanted to wave to you; he saw you smile, an oddly sweet smile for something so dirty, and he watched your fingers slide down to your tiny, seeping opening. He nodded in encouragement, watching your face fall into a shockingly innocent gasp as you slid a finger into yourself.

“Yes, baby,” he moaned, “y-yeah, s’it warm inside, sweetheart? Bet you’re so fucking tight, baby, I know your pussy is so goddamn tight—”

You pumped the single finger in and out, head falling back for a moment, and he squeezed his cock tight again to try to hold back another close call— he’d feel pretty stupid coming so fast with you watching, but he’d been doing this a lot longer than you had… fuck, how long had you known he was watching you?

Your mouth opened wider as you pushed another finger into yourself, and his hips shifted roughly in the chair, his hand moving faster as he growled. “Fuck, it’s not enough, is it?” he hissed. “Two little fingers isn’t enough— you need my cock, fuck, you need my fuckin’ cock— I’d fill you so good, sweetheart, I’d be so fuckin’ deep inside you—”

He was almost bucking up into his own hand now, his whole body suddenly pulsing with energy— it was a good thing you weren’t here now, even if he wanted it more than anything: he would’ve treated you awfully if he could’ve gotten his hands on you, fucking you hard and rough, tossing you around, pinning you down… he needed you so bad, he couldn’t imagine having the patience for anything but one of those nasty, fast, rough, animalistic fucks. He’d fucking ruin you right now, if he could.

You were rough about it, too— roughly pinching and tugging on your tits, roughly fucking yourself on your fingers… you even pulled your hand out and gave your clit a little smack at one point, and he choked on his loudest moan yet as your body jolted.

“Dirty fucking slut,” he growled, “fuck, come for me. Please, baby, I need to come, I need to fuckin’ come—”

You were saying something, obviously he couldn’t hear a damn word of it, but the shape of your lips made him pretty damn sure you were chanting over and over: yes, yes, yes—

“Come, baby,” he begged, knowing he couldn’t hold himself back much longer, “let me see— show me how you come, sweetheart, show me that pretty face when you come on your fucking fingers— soak them, honey, come for me—”

You were shaking all over, legs quivering and tits bouncing with the force of it— you pulled your fingers out and he could fucking see it, see that cute little hole flexing, and obviously he was done for pretty much instantly. He moaned roughly as hot ropes of come painted his shirt, rolled down his shaft and shaking fingers, one drop even finding its way down his balls which was sort of pleasantly ticklish…

You looked so gorgeous coming like that, your hand and pussy all shiny with your arousal, your eyes heavy and your lips swollen from all the biting… he blinked quickly as he tried to catch his breath, letting go of his slowly-softening cock and leaning back into the chair. You smiled at him; funny how, even now, that could make his heart skip. He watched you stand up and wiggle your fingers in a cute little wave at him as you approached the window, and his tired smile fell quickly when you reached for the curtains. “N-no, don’t go,” he pleaded softly, leaning forward as if he could stop you somehow, “please, wait—”

You slid them shut suddenly, and he whined a little as he fell back into the chair, running his (clean) hand over his face as he contemplated what he’d just done. When his phone vibrated again, he jumped up to grab it, but frowned in disappointment when he saw it was from his wife. Be home in a few, please come help with the groceries.

He tried to type a quick reply, only to grimace when he realized how filthy his hand was. He wiped it off on his shirt— but his shirt was filthy, too. Sighing, he set the phone down and took the whole thing off, balling it up to toss into the hamper, leaving him in just his undershirt.

Going straight back to his phone, he opened the conversation with you, praying to see that little grey bubble pop up or something; he started to type a few times, things like will I see you tomorrow? or come over next time the house is empty, but he always felt like an idiot and ended up erasing it. He didn’t get a chance to think of a good thing to send before he heard a car pulling up in the driveway. Shoving the phone in his pocket, he sighed and made his way downstairs, navigating around the pillow fort in the living room to get out the front door.

“Just help me with the bags in the boot, will you?” she asked him, not even looking at him, as she rifled through whatever was in the backseat. He opened it, sighing as he looked at them. Nothing like a bunch of brown bags to bring you back to reality.

His eyes widened when he heard his wife say your name, and he poked his head around the car to see you standing there, wearing a zip-up and leggings. “Good evening, Mrs. Murphy,” you smiled, and he figured he looked like a deer in the headlights— if a deer could hold a paper sack full of pasta and biscuits— as your gaze fell on him. “Hi, Mr. Murphy.”

He opened his mouth to try to respond, but nothing really came out; “Looks like you’re going for a run,” his wife noticed, saving him for the time being as your attention turned to her again.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “figured I could use some exercise.”

He cleared his throat, just a way to try to fight the lump forming in it, but it unintentionally caused both women to look at him again— once again, he found himself uselessly floundering for a response, and only getting out a soft ‘er’ before you said something.

“Aren’t you cold in just a t-shirt, Mr. Murphy?” you asked him, tilting your head.

“It’s fine,” he choked out, “I was feeling kind of hot anyway.”

You smiled at him, then waved goodbye to his wife as you pushed your earbuds in and continued walking down the street— you were acting so innocent that he started to feel like he’d dreamed up the whole thing.

She probably saw him staring, watching you jog down the sidewalk, that ass looking terribly familiar covered by the athletic leggings; but she didn’t say anything, only shutting the car boot to get his attention as he finally carried the paper sacks into the house. "She's sweet, isn't she?" she broke the moment of silence as they walked up the driveway together.

“I-I guess,” he tried to sound as non-committal as possible.

“You don’t think so?” she pressed, apparently noticing his cryptic answer.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “maybe she’s not as sweet as she looks.”

#cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine

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taytrashmouth · 1 year ago

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hello lovely!! would u consider writing a peeta x reader, where ur both in the quarter quell, but reader is separated from peeta from the start and goes through mutt attacks/blood rain/jabberjays by herself and when peeta and the group find her on the beach she is injured and traumatised. hurt/comfort, where he looks after her afterwards and comforts her, washes her in the water and stuff? loooads of gentle comfort and fluff. sorry for my bad english!!

Okay I am absolutely obsessed with this request!!!! Omg can’t wait for you to read this!!! Ahhhh! Okay okay I hope you love it 😊

Peeta x reader

(Catching fire)

Requests are open so don’t forget to send them in!!!! Prompts under my profile!

:readmore:

When you woke up the morning of the games in Peetas arms you somehow felt safe. It was like you weren’t being sent to die that day. He kissed your head and told you he’d be by your side.

You had dreamt about the last games, how you were separated and the only reason you survived was because he became allies with those horrible kids from 1 & 2

When you eventually found each other, all you did was help Peeta get better, applied the ointment and comforted him. He did all the killing, he saved you.

You only survived the first half by dumb luck, that spear was supposed to hit you…not Rue. If only you hadn’t moved out the way.

The whole lovers idea was Peetas too, only it was true. Deep down you both knew you’d liked each other since kindergarten back in 12

But here you were in the little glass tube that sucked you straight into hell. You felt sick but you really wanted to throw up when you couldn’t see Peeta.

“Peeta!” You screamed as the countdown started. Sweating and getting panicked. You couldn’t do this again, not without him. You had a deal: stay together.

The games had begun. You needed a weapon. You jumped off the platform into the water swimming for the weapons.

Once you found your feet at the cornucopia, you began to hear screams and watched people start to fall. You grabbed a machete and ran for the jungle on one of the thin arms of rock.

“Peeta!” You screamed from the beach. But no answer. That was when a knife flew past your head and missed by an inch.

You couldn’t kill somebody. So you ran.

You shoved past trees and vines running deep into the jungle.

You found a spot hollowed out under a tree. It was hot- and you needed water.

That was when you heard his voice. Peeta.

You screamed for him as you ran towards the sound.

“Help n/n!” He yelled.

“Where are you!?” You frantically turned around. “Peeta?”

That was until his voice became overwhelming. Your ears started to ring. His cried for help, his screams.

You began to cry, realising this was some cruel trick of the capitol. “STOP IT!” You yelled, throat raw. You screamed as loud as you could covering your ears to get it to stop but it didn’t help. It was overwhelming. You tried to run but a forcefield locked you in. You screamed and banged on it but nothing worked.

You grabbed your machete and banged at the field but it just ricocheted.

You sunk to the floor, covering your ears and cried. You were there for what felt like a decade but was probably only an hour.

When his cries suddenly stopped you felt a strange sense of sadness. The screaming had been awful but you were worried about him. What if he was dead.

You began to walk deeper into the jungle, sweating and with tear stained cheeks. You had never been so thirsty before, after screaming so loudly in what felt like 100 degree heat.

As desperate as you were you stumbled across a little pool of water. You smiled dryly and lay on the floor, drinking out of the pool. A sigh escaped your mouth as you quenched your thirst. You splashed your face. And sat up leaning against a nearby tree.

This is where you would sleep. You gathered sticks and placed them in a circle around the area, to ensure that if someone walked by you would hear them.

The music began to play, you looked up at the sky, holding your pin. Praying you wouldn’t see Peetas face. You didn’t. Relief washed over you as the final canon went off.

You barely slept when you felt a warm air hitting your face, as your eyes opened you were greeted with a large mutt, two inches from your face.

You took a shocked, shaky breath in and slowly reached for your machete. It belted a loud noise sending a signal to the rest of his friends.

You closed your eyes as you wedged the sharp end of your blade into the mutt in-front of you.

You pulled the machete out of its body and stood up. Swinging at any that got a little to close. Just as one of the beasts began to jump at you, you decided the best option was to throw the machete and run.

As the mutt jumped and you released your blade, the woman from 6 who had been hiding in the trees tried to save you. And the machete hit her instead. A scream escaped your lips. You had killed someone.

You covered your mouth with your hands, shaky breaths escaping your lips. “No!” You sobbed.

You bent down to try help her, applying pressure to the wound. “I’m sorry.” You cried as she became limp.

You held her to your chest in the hopes it would cause a miracle.

Soon you noticed the mutts had began to run as a white smoked reached the edge of the water, you stood up, knowing something was coming.

One of their claws ripped the back of your calf open as it ran away. “Shit!” You fell into the smoke, immediately screaming and running.

The sun had started to rise, and you were limping with an excruciating pain in your arms and legs with growing boils from the poison.

You screamed as you ran not caring about attracting other tributes. The sun has begun to rise, and you were now an easy target.

You ran through the jungle searching desperately for the beach but it was so overgrown you had no way of knowing.

You stopped in a small clearing. Crying and sitting in the dirt. Desperately wanting to rid yourself of the boils.

After a while of crying A cool liquid hit your face. Rain. You looked up at the sky, hoping the water would help your sores. Opening your mouth to quench your thirst.

It was definitely not water. You gagged. Spitting onto the dirt. Blood.

You sobbed and ran wherever you could and tripped over a log of wood. Tumbling onto the sand of the beach.

You screamed and cried. Not knowing what to do. You hated the capitol. You hated that you didn’t know where Peeta was. You hated this. You hated that you had to die.

Just then you heard voices. You put a hand over your mouth trying to quiet your whimpers.

Tears running down your face. You couldn’t run anymore. This was it.

You shuffled back, trying to find and escape route but there wasn’t one.

You got on all fours and crawled on the sand, dragging your leg with a gash in it in the sand.

You let out chokes of pain and self pity as they grew closer, you refused to look.

“N/n!” You heard him…peeta. “Oh my god it’s y/n!!!”

You screamed and covered your ears lying in the sand. You would rather die than listen to the jabberjays again. Until someone rolled you onto your back and you were met with Peeta.

He looked so scared for you. You immediately started to cry as he hugged you tightly to his chest. “You weren’t real.” You sobbed into his chest, feeling his hair, his back, anything to make sure he was there.

“I’m real now. I’m here now.” He kissed your forehead and held you again. Until you hissed when he touched your boils.

“Oh shit! I had them too see-“ he showed you the faint scars on his hands.

“I need to get freshwater.” He began to get up but you held onto his hand. “Don’t leave” you whispered.

He stared at you for a moment too long, his eyes laced with concern.

“Finnick! I need water.” Peeta yelled at the group that was a safe distance away.

While you waited, Peeta brushed hair out of your eyes that was covered in blood and sand, just like the rest of you and you squeezed his arm in pain.

“It’s okay.” He kept repeating. Kissing your head despite your state.

When finnick returned Peeta poured water all over your boils and you screamed in pain as they vanished.

“Thank you.” You smiled sadly. Overwhelmed. Peeta often said you were a kind sole, you wouldn’t hurt a fly at home, literally. You sang songs and picked flowers. You weren’t meant for this. Nobody was really….

“Come on, let’s wash you off…if at least half this blood is yours, we’re in serious trouble.” He joked and you attempted to laugh. He picked you up bridal style.

You would argue that you could do it yourself but it just wasn’t true.

He dipped you into the salt water. You hissed in pain, clutching his wetsuit.

“I know it stings. I’m sorry.” He rubbed your arm but kept you underwater.

“It okay. Thank you.” You whispered again, almost scared something bad would happen like it had been. One after the other. Peeta cupped water into his hand and tilted your head back rinsing the blood out of your hair and carefully brushing through it with his fingers.

He washed you off, holding you with one had at all times. Afraid to let you go. He was careful around your cuts and scrapes.

“I killed her.” You let out, staring at nothing.

He stopped his movements and just helped you too his chest.

“Who?” He whispered.

“Six… she tried to save me and-“ you chocked on your tears.

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay…I’m here. You don’t have to talk about it now.” He assured.

You were both wrinkly like the raisins Peeta used in his raisin bread back home by the time you got out the water.

You tried to walk but you could barely stand on your right foot.

“What happened?” Finnick asked before Peeta got the chance.

“Mutts.” You answered simply, trying to see the gash on the back of your calf.

You almost fell but Peeta caught you. He picked you up agin and placed you on the leaves they were using as beds in the sand tonight.

“Now we match.” Peeta smiled at you pulling up the leg of his wetsuit to reveal his prosthetic leg.

You laughed, for the first time in days.

The others were asleep while Peeta took the first watch. You sat in his lap, and wrapped your legs around his torso, like a koala.

Head on his chest listening to his heartbeat as he leaned against a tree looking at the waves.

“I thought I lost you.” He whispered, a tear running down his face. You sat up slightly to wipe it. “Me too.” You assured and squeezed his hand.

“So much for sticking together.” He half laughed.

“Yeah.” You looked at his brown eyes and played with his blonde fringe. He leaned in and Kissed you gently but passionately. Holding your cheek and pulling you in by your back. Carefully avoiding your right leg that was tediously bandaged with leaves and vines.

When you broke apart for air. You smiled softly at each other. Heart still heavy from the past two days.

“I love you n/n.” He spoke with only truth in his tone. It wasn’t just an act and you knew that.

“I love you too…so much.” You teared up thinking about how you were going to have to say goodbye soon.

You resumed your position on his chest and fell asleep to his hand rubbing your back and his whispers of “it’s okay.” And “I love you.”

#y/n #peeta supremacy #peeta my beloved #peeta mellark #team peeta #thg peeta #peeta mellark x reader #peeta x reader #the hunger games peeta #i love peeta #the hunger games #catching fire #thg #thg fanfiction #finnick odair #hunger games #may the odds be ever in your favor #the capitol #panem

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cxffecoupx · 20 days ago

Text

do you wanna build a snowman?

kwon soonyoung + one running ahead to jump onto the snow as the other fondly watches. wc: 826 (turned out pretty long for something i'm not really proud of🤧) warnings: a very hyperenergetic soonyoung author's notes: i wrote this while i should have prepped a little more for my exams,,, i've never actually had the chance to play in snow (but i would love to!!) so most of this is just me imagining it, and it probably isnt how it actually happens... pls bear with me(T_T) hope you enjoy reading it! winter wonderland masterlist

when soonyoung walks up to you with a cheeky grin, there's nothing nice about it.

it usually means a sign of incoming mischief or an idea that will definitely lead to some trouble.

so your concern was understandable when you saw him smiling at you from across the couch while you were reading a book. he poked you in your stomach a few times to grab your attention, but when that didnt work, he spoke out your name in a whine, a sing-song that, if you hadn't known better, would have made you think 'oh so cute'.

"soonie, what is it?" you ask him, eyes still reading the book.

"it's snowing outside... you know what that means?"

he pokes you again and you look up at him and responds when you continue staring at him in a confused look.

"it's time to build snowmen!!" he jumps up and grabs your hand to get you up.

"soonyoung, it's too cold to go outside!"

"you can have my hoodie."

"...let's go."

the walk to the park is nothing short of an adventure. the 10 minute walk ends up taking an extra 30 minutes, with the way soonyoung happily gleams at all the snow collected on the streets. he links arms with you before breaking into a dance-like walk by kicking his feet high, sending snow flying all over. you are almost overwhelmed by the energy he possesses in this sluggish, cozy weather, but his happiness is so contagious that you don't even realize until your cheeks started hurting, that you were laughing along with him all the while he ran to the park, pulling you along.

and if you thought the soonyoung until now was too energetic, you understand what a mistake it was when you see him in the park.

he becomes a child.

the first thing he does is crouch down to gather some snow in his hands. he jumps as he throws it into the air, laughing amusedly watching it shower down around the two of you. he lets out an excited shout as he runs and jumps into a heap of snow collected somewhere around; the snow mountain engulfs him and only his head remains visible, a blob of happy smile and merrily closed eyes.

the movies make it look cringey - all the lovey-dovey actions that couples in films do when it snows. you would roll your eyes whenever you came across such clips. 'load of bs' you would say - which initially caused soonyoung to gasp (he still does, but you're used to it now) - but you would watch because he likes such cheesy romcoms and you enjoyed seeing him happy.

you're the black cat that's slowly warming up to the love-sick golden retriever that's soonyoung.

so you don't realise it. how you have a dopey smile on your face watching soonyoung enjoy the winter he'd been waiting for so long.

he calls you to come join him, but snow hasn't really been something you liked, and you'd rather stay where you are and absorb the little warmth that his hoodie plus your jacket is providing you, than voluntarily join in on the fun and knowingly let yourself freeze.

so you just stand there, shaking your head for a 'no' while the smile widens on your lips.

"you're no fun," he says and pouts, and you throw your head back and laugh at his dramatics.

what you didn't notice was how he stood up and charged towards you, hands extended to hold you to him as he crashes into your still body. it takes you by surprise, and your high-pitched yelp gets silenced midway as he hugs you to him and turns your bodies around so that he's the one to fall on the snow.

"this was the only way i could get you to play with me," he says and flashes a cheeky smile to you. he extends your arms along with his arms and legs, moving them to make a snow angel.

you struggle to lift your head and look at him. "you're so annoying," you say, but then quickly let your head fall on his chest once again.

"but you still love me though."

you stay like that for a long time, and then get up to build a snowman with him. his eyes gleam at your words, and he gets to work immediately. you don't realise when hours pass by and the sun sets, but two sloppy snowmen and a couple snow fights later, you decide to head home.

"you called me annoying earlier," he breaks the silence on the walk back home, "but you should see seungkwan. he's absolutely intolerable with all his christmas songs..."

his hand laces with yours and swings back and forth as he talks about it. his face is glowing; and whether it is from the golden hour sunlight, or pure joy doesn't matter to you, as long as that smile stays with you forever.

prompt by @novelbear divider by @adornedwithlight

#svt #seventeen #svt x reader #seventeen × reader #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen hoshi #svt hoshi #kwon soonyoung #soonyoung #hoshi #hoshi x reader #hoshi fluff #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung fluff #articles.ris

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