#you know how sometimes you have to go piss in the woods

[parallaxdemon]

alastor x human demon hunter- like protect earth from demons?

you know like how Blitzo goes to earth to kill humans, alastor finds a way to get deers from earth, this masked human without powers was actually a challenge to beat and she had a sword of angelic steel,

perhaps they fight for a long period of time, until it got boring, and they just started talking, opposites attract?

Oooooo!!! I love it! Hope you enjoy!

Sometimes Opposites Attract

Warnings— 18+, Blood & Gore, Violence, Sexual Tension, Demi Alastor

You were an excellent demon hunter. Any demon who dared come to Earth was met with a terrible fate at the hands of you. Your angelic sword would slice them up to ribbons. The only part of the job you hated was having to clean off their blood and guts off of you.

Filthy fucking creatures. You thought.

Yes, you were the best of the best. No one ever beaten you. No demon ever escaped from you. That was until him.

Alastor the Radio Demon. You met him 4 years ago, when he came to Earth for unknown reasons. It was obvious that he was a high level demon, so your team sent you, the best demon hunter they had.

He was taking a walk through the woods, enjoying the lovely scenery. You were following him from a distance, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Little did you know that he knew you were there the entire time.

“You can come out of hiding now. I know you’re there.”

You cursed under your breath, pissed that he had noticed you. You stepped out of the bushes.

“Why, hello there! Alastor’s the name. Pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure! Now, why don’t you introduce yourself and take that ridiculous little mask off.”

You, of course, just charged at him with your sword. Suddenly, black tentacles appeared from out of the ground and wrapped around you, throwing your sword far off in a random direction, and suspended you up in the air.

“A bit shy, it seems. That’s alright, I’ll remove the mask for you.”

You shook your head defiantly. But he just removed your mask with one of the tentacles.

“Ah, a pretty girl. Now, what would such a delicate creature be doing with such a dangerous weapon, you might hurt yourself.”

His ever present grin widened. He ran his fingers through your soft hair.

“Does the beauty have a name?”

“Fuck you, you demon bastard! When I get down, I’m going to fucking slice you in half!”

He covered your mouth.

“Now now, such ugly language to come from such a pretty little mouth.”

He wagged his finger at you, chuckling.

“Since you won’t tell me your name, my dear, let’s see if any identification on you.”

He began searching your pockets, while you writhed around trying to free yourself from his tentacles.

“Ah! Here it is! Your name is [Name]. What a beautiful name, it suits you, my dear.”

You made a cranky face.

“How cute.”

He stroked your face gently. Suddenly there were sirens coming from somewhere in the distance. Your team was coming.

“That’s my que! Well, it’s been a delightful time, my dear. I do hope you come see me again soon.”

The tentacles placed you back on the ground, Alastor kissed your hand quicker than you could react, then he disappeared in the blink of an eye.

“Bastard.”

You cursed, going to find your sword.

Since then, you have had many encounters with him. You just couldn’t let it go that he was the one who had beaten you. Your team even suggested that you take a break, but you weren’t having it.

Every time, you would still try to kill him and every time he would escape. Each encounter involved him restraining you in some way, flirting with you, and telling you that you were never going to best him.

One time, he snapped his fingers and you were in a dress from the 1920s with your hair all done up. Then he made dance with him.

“My dear [Name], you look so much better without that ridiculous uniform on. Yes, much more ladylike now.”

“I hate you.”

You spat at him. He only laughed.

“Do you now, darling? Then why are you blushing?”

He asked as he spun you around, before dipping you.

You quickly turned away from him, trying to hide your flustered face from him. It was true that you were growing quite attracted to him and you despised it.

“Haha, oh you’re so adorable, my little demon hunter. Hiding your true feelings from both me and yourself.”

“Shut up.”

“So feisty…it’s one of my favorite things about you.”

He grabbed your chin with his large hand, making you look up at him.

“You know, you have gorgeous eyes. I could just get lost in them.”

You felt your walls crumbling down as you gazed up at his handsome face. That smile that used to disgust you now charmed you.

“I…I…”

You couldn’t even speak.

“Shh, you don’t need to say anything.”

He brought his lips mere inches from yours, but as you were about to kiss, the sirens came again.

Shit. You thought.

“Till we meet again, my dear.”

He kissed your cheek before leaving.

Let me know, if you would like a part two. <3

[lily-fics-11]

Vices - Chapter One (Natalie Scatorccio, Yellowjackets)

Post Crash Natalie Scatorccio

Master Post (includes disclaimer and in depth CW)

Chapter Navigation

CW: Rehab, alcoholism, mental illness, withdrawals

WC: 1.6k

Chapter One

Another treatment facility.

Getting shipped off once again. This is the… 3rd? residential stay in the last few years.

Not that you don’t understand why it’s happening, you do. You’ve devolved into a mess you don’t know how to clean up. You’ve become what your life has made you.

The decision, made by your therapist, to send you to rehab is valid. But that doesn’t mean you are happy about it. Being plucked out of the real world and forced to confront the things you so desperately want to forget.

It’s called pre contemplation, you’ve learned that from being in treatment before.

Knowing you need help, but not warning it. Sometimes it’s easier to suffer and resist change, than it is to dive into the deep dark waters that pool inside you.

It’s that time of the year where it starts getting warm and sunny in the Northeast. Everyone is excited that seasonal depression has gone on vacation but there is nothing seasonal about the things that root you down in anguish.

It really feels like summer now, so it’s easy to tell yourself that drinking everyday is for that reason and that reason alone.

Having watched this dependency on alcohol progress and knowing your history of mental illness, your therapist has had enough. It’s become a matter of trading one nasty habit for another. These habits have come in many forms but it’s manifested into alcoholism this time around.

So here you are, with a suitcase, at a facility with a name that sounds like that sounds like somewhere old people go to die, on a unit named after a tree.

Your roommate is a woman around the age of your parents, her name is Charlene.

When the staff were getting you settled they told you that Charlene, as your roommate, would be your ‘buddy’ and show you around.

When she’s flipping through a magazine with seemingly no intention of stopping you finally ask “hey, could you maybe show me around?” trying not to sound too annoyed about her lack of initiative.

“I can. But I’m not going to, but I’m also not hanging you out to dry,” Charlene smirks, hardly looking up from Cosmopolitan. The edge in your voice is something she knows all too well.

Not having got much of an answer pisses you off more. It’s mostly the withdrawals talking when you ask “what’s that supposed to mean?” and it’s laced with attitude.

Charlene finally meets your disgruntled gaze, with a knowing look in her eyes, it's clear she recognizes that snark fueled by the lack of alcohol.

“Natalie’s going to help you out,” she says simply, as if you’re supposed to know who that is.

That elicits an eye roll. “Who’s Natalie?”

“Her room is across the hall, if she's not there check the day room.”

“What am I supposed to do if she isn't in her room? Just… walk into the day room and be like ‘which one of you is Natalie’? I don’t even know where the day room is.”

Charlene is already flipping back though her magazine, snickering at your attitude.

“Dark hair, kinda looks like a mullet. Band t-shirt. Black nail polish and silver rings. Looks mean as hell. Day room is to the left of the entrance they brought you in.”

“So the loner girl that looks like she wants to fight everyone?” There’s always someone like her and Charlene is right, she shouldn’t be hard to recognize.

“You know it.”

With a huff you leave the room. A knock on the door across the hall doesn’t get an answer so it’s off to the day room.

Natalie was too easy to spot. She sits on the window sill, looking out towards the wooded area behind the unit. She’s exactly what you expected, perpetuating a stereotype. But simultaneously not at all, a glamour of your day dreams. There’s a certain magnetism she has, and the force isn’t solely powered by physical attraction. It feels so much deeper, like a kindred spirit.

The other people in the room take notice of you, but are too engrossed in a game of cards to say anything. Walking past them you tentatively approach the broody girl.

“Charlene sent you?” She asks nonchalantly without looking over at you.

“She did.”

It’s not until she hears your voice, as if it catches her attention, that she turns her head. But the way this girl looks you up and down is akin to the way one sizes up a competitor before a fight. You’ve met people like this. They don’t trust anyone, they neither can nor want to. But because she’s here, so she surely has a good reason not to.

Natalie stands up and gestures to the room “this is the day room.” She then motions for you to follow her. Hands in the pocket of her leather jacket she shows you everything without asking your name or trying to start a conversation. Natalie goes over the basic rules, official and unwritten. At the end of the tour she circles back to your room.

“I already know where my room is…” you roll your eyes.

If she notices it she doesn’t show it. “Yeah but Charlene owes me cigarettes for showing you around.”

“How many cigarettes are worth the burden of my presence?”

The corner of Natalie’s mouth moves ever so slightly, a mere ghost of a smirk. “I won’t charge her too many.”

“Charge?”

“I don’t always have people to send me cigarettes, so I have to get creative sometimes. Prices vary depending on the case,” she explains. It’s not an uncommon thing to do in a place like this. And someone so guarded, one can only imagine what she’s got going on at home.

“And what kind of case am I?” It’s only natural to be curious.

“Just open the door.” Your eyes narrow at her dismissal but you open the door for her anyways.

“Charlene,” Natalie calls into the room as she enters.

“How many?”

“1.”

“Just 1?” The older woman questions with profound confusion.

“Just 1,” Natalie confirms impatiently.

Charlene pulls out a pack of cigarettes and reluctantly passes a single one to Natalie, looking so baffled that she is almost concerned.

Natalie puts them in the pockets of her leather jacket and leaves without another word.

Charlene receives a questioning look from you so she decides to explain.

“I’ve never heard her ask for anything less than 3. And that was one time.”

“No less than 3?”

“Never.”

Before dinner there is a smoke break, on the fenced in back patio.

You don’t have all of your stuff yet, thus nothing to smoke, but you go outside for the not-so-fresh air. It’s a gorgeous June day, so why not?

You sit at one of the picnic tables and rest your chin in your hands.

As you take a mental inventory of the other residents Natalie sits down across from you.

To call her voluntary close proximity surprising would be an understatement.

She doesn’t say a word, just pulls out some sort of repurposed tin that is full of cigarettes, pulling one out and placing it between her lips until the lighter gets passed around to her.

Natalie’s cigarette is what drew your attention, you’re dying for a smoke. But while your gaze is there you can’t help but notice how enticing her lips are. They look so soft and inviting, the opposite of her personality. She takes a long drag.

“You don’t smoke?” She wonders aloud with casual indifference.

That makes you grumble in frustration. “I don’t have my stuff yet.”

“I can bum you one.” How can one radiate such a bewitching pull while simultaneously caring so little?

“I wouldn’t say no to one.” You try not to sound too eager.

Natalie subtly pulls one out, as if hoping no one else will notice, and places it in front of you.

The excuse to turn your attention elsewhere to figure out who has the lighter is more than welcome.

“Don’t worry I’ll light it.” Her voice is monotone but lullingly captivating.

The cigarette in your mouth, Natalie leans close and lights it with hers. The dark haired girl doesn’t break eye contact as her hand comes close to your face to prevent the gentle breeze from dulling the flame. She doesn’t move back as far as she had been from you, she leaves her elbows on the table as she watches you take your first drag.

“You got a name?” Natalie inquires after a brief pause.

“No, I don’t,” there’s a hint of a smirk when she hears the sarcasm.

“Then what am I supposed to call you?” Natalie tries to hide it, but intrigue briefly flashes through her stormy blue eyes.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

The two of you sit in silence, but the interaction already drew some glances and whispers.

Sitting out on the smoke deck makes it easy to see who is friends with who.

A total of 22 residents with a few factions.

Watching the dynamic on the rest of these smoke breaks that day, dinner, and the wrap up group, it’s clear that Natalie is a lone wolf. She commands respect and will pop into conversations here and there, but it’s obvious that she exists between the social divides.

Natalie doesn’t speak to you the rest of the night, but at the next smoke break she looks to see that you have your own pack now.

When it’s time for lights out you catch her checking the name tag on your door.

Tags: @mel6ncholixc

(Feel free to comment if you want to be added to the tag list)

[bonbongiveshell]

There's gotta be an easier way to pee standing up

[libraford]

Like... when I'm pointing out that a recipe image is AI, the purpose is not to shame them for posting AI, because even people who are familiar with the tells will sometimes fall for it.

I want you to have reasonable expectations about your food.

Because when I see this:

I remember this:

Which was a full decade prior to AI-based misinformation, and just how many people were pissed off that the Pinterest post misled them.

And even more-working in a craft store during the Pinterest heyday:

"We want to make this." Shows a picture of:

-a marimo moss ball terrarium in a light bulb.

-a resin-treated natural wooden shelf with glow in the dark resin in the cracks

-a really complex diorama made using museum grade resin and hand-painted figures by a miniatures artist

...to name a few.

"I'm sorry, but we do not carry (unfinished wood pieces, light reactive resin powders, live marimo moss balls, museum grade resin). Is there a tutorial attached with a materials list? No? I'm sorry, we don't have those. You can make something like this with what we have, but it won't turn out the same as in the photo. You want it exactly like the photo? I'm sorry, we can't special order these items, they're not featured on our list of vendors. I'm sorry, no, I don't know where to get them. Oh, you want me to walk you through the steps of making it since there's no tutorial? I can really only guess, but it looks like... oh, you want someone who knows for sure? I'm sorry, but no one here is terribly familiar with the process. You might see if you can reverse image search and find the source of the image. You say you want to speak to my manager? You say I'm being rude to you? You say I should be going out of my way to make you happy? You say you'll leave a 1 star review?..."

Etc.

If you ask a bartender to make you the 'celestial milkshake' and show them the photo, they are going to go through the same course that I just went through, but with mixology. They are going to explain that cotton candy dissolves when put in liquid, that edible glitter doesn't look like that, that the liquers listed in the recipe don't interact well, and that the image you have given them is essentially concept art by someone who has never even worn an apron.

Having reasonable expectations for your food is not by any means shaming you for falling for AI. It is saving you the embarrassment and them the frustration.

[erinwantstowrite]

Dick and Tim would be REALLY good on reality tv,,, they're both charismatic (please do not forget that Tim makes friends/allies easily just like Dick can), handsome, CLEVER, and know how to play to a persona. i think they'd go on shows for fun and to de-stress. like one too many things piss them off in their daily lives and they could pretty much get a vacation from it just to go on these shows. no one in the family can talk to them and they get to annoy people, crack jokes, and get fun puzzles in the form of a literal puzzle or figuring out social dynamics of the other players.

sometimes they go on shows by themselves but mostly use it as a brotherly bonding activity. if it's a show where they can be a duo they're GOING to do it. and they're going in to play to a storyline, not to win. they don't need the money, they don't need the publicity, they just want to have fun. sometimes if they figure out that everyone on the show sucks and they get competitive, they'll win. but mostly their goal is "how can we make the funniest plot line look the most natural." or something like that. i know a producer LOVES to see them coming. i bet EVERYONE tunes in when they're on a show because they're fucking hilarious even if half of what they say are inside jokes. the rest of the family watches and they KNOW what those shits are pulling, they have betting pools where they guess what the two are gonna do next, they're the FIRST to make memes for both internet and for the family group chats.

one time they convinced Bruce to go (it's been many a years since he really had to play up the Brucie role, cause he's a dad now and the older he gets the more people expect him to mellow out, and even back when he was full Brucie, reality TV wasn't his thing). it was one of those survival based shows where you come is as a team and try to win together. Bruce got lost in the woods after going on a hike. The camera men literally lost him and Tim and Dick were playing it up for the camera. Dick cried and invited the other teams to a funeral. Tim had a speech that was basically "I think he's fine but this is my perfect opportunity to embarrass my dad with stories." The producers were like "we fucking killed Bruce Wayne oh my fucking god" and Bruce shows up at the funeral like "oh what a beautiful service my boys are so great." They won by pure luck and circumstances and they were actively TRYING to lose that game. They were gobsmacked at the end and everyone uses the moment they looked at each other in confusion and shock as reaction gifs

[amomentsescape]

Hey I love yanderes and slashers and used to have a sleep walking problem where I would try to crawl through windows, can you do a yandere slasher x reader where the reader has developed Stockholm syndrome and been loving to the slasher so they trust them and let them have more freedom. Then they see them try to crawl out a window in their sleep? How would they react? Would they believe the reader? What would make them believe them if they didn't? If they didn't believe them the how would they react to finding out the reader told the truth?

Thank you so much! And merry Christmas! 🎄 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅

Slashers with Reader Who Sleepwalks & Tries to Leave

Yandere! Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Warnings: Yandere behavior, of course. Mentions of abusive behavior

A/N: Merry (late) Christmas! I hope you all had a great holiday! For this request, I decided to leave Eric out. He's just the complete opposite to a Yandere in my opinion, and it was nearly impossible for me to write him as such. I hope that's okay!

Freddy Krueger

He knows you would never purposefully leave him

Like, he actually knows

His (undead) life revolves around sleep

He knows when you're awake and where you're actually sleeping, even if he keeps you stuck in his dream world

So when he finds you trying to escape out of the little window he built for you, he just laughs

He had already known you sleep walked

He'd been haunting your dreams for weeks prior to actually taking you

Freddy just keeps watching you, not really doing anything about it

You're stuck in his world either way

Might as well see how far you'll go

He'll almost use this as a test of sorts

He'll let you wander to wherever you want to go in your sleep, and he may even change the environment to something you don't recognize

When you wake up, his name better be the first thing that falls from your lips

If it's not...

Well, he'll just have to try harder at getting you to need him

Michael Myers

It took a very long time for Michael to get to this point

The fact that he lets you sleep without chains is a huge decision on his part

He doesn't trust easily

And any feelings of trust he did have come crumbling down the moment he wakes up without you beside him

It didn't take long to find you

There you were, pushing and prodding at the boarded up window

He's truly pissed

And a little hurt

He really thought you were growing to actually like your situation

But when he spins you around and sees your eyes staring blankly through him, he tilts his head

You don't seem... right?

He'll shake you harshly until he sees the life come back to your eyes

When you finally look up at him with a similarly confused look on your face, he starts to realize

He understands you well enough to know when you're not acting like yourself

When he finally explains what you were doing after you repeatedly asked him, you sigh

You explain that sometimes at night, you wander around without realizing it

A sleepwalker, huh?

Sadly, the chains will need to come out again

Jason Voorhees

You wouldn't actually leave him, right?

You seemed so caring

He actually believed you when you said you needed him

But here you were, trying to leave your shared home in the middle of the night

He almost breaks down as he picks you up and takes you back to your room

He finds it a bit odd that you don't fight back at all, but he assumes you just don't care to

He locks you up and makes sure that you can't go anywhere

How could you do this to him?

When you wake up the next morning in chains and not in your shared bed, you begin to cry for Jason

He tries to ignore you, but he can't bring himself to hear your sad voice calling out to him

You try your best to tell him that you don't remember what happened, and that you would never leave him

And maybe he's too trusting, but he believes you

You just seem so sad and so genuine that it's impossible for him to think it's anything other than honesty

You couldn't be that stupid anyways

You'd get lost in those woods alone at night, he knows that

So he just has to believe you

He loves you, and love means trust, right?

Thomas Hewitt

But you were being so sweet to him just hours before

How could you lie to his face like that?

He wakes up without you in his arms, and he just about loses it

Frantically searches for you around the house and finally finds you at one of the nailed in windows

He pulls you away quickly, staring at you sadly

He's waiting for an explanation, but you don't say anything

You just stare

You weren't acting like yourself

He pushes you back towards the bedroom and you walk the rest of the way yourself, climbing back into bed with ease

He's confused, but decides to see if it will happen again

You can't leave anyways

The whole house is locked up, and you don't even know where the keys are

You act just like your normal self the next day

And that night, you're back to walking around with a blank stare

He figures this just might be a thing you do

Doesn't really try to stop you, but he does follow you most nights to make sure you don't accidentally hurt yourself

On nights he wants you in bed, he ties some old fabric around your ankle and holds you tight while you sleep

You might not ever know about your late night adventures unless he decides to tell you

Bubba Sawyer

He's quite literally blubbering to you

He's crying, he's frantic, he even shakes you a bit, and you just stand there not responding

He keeps waiting, and when you start to just wander around again, he loses it

What's wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?

He ties you back into bed and stays up the rest of the night, watching you

The next morning, he confronts you stressfully

You keep telling him over and over that you don't know what he's talking about

But he refuses to believe you

(He wants to believe you, he's just scared)

He only finally realizes you were being honest when in the middle of the day during your nap, he finds you wandering back to the window with his whole family watching you

You weren't stupid

Why would you try to leave when literally everyone could see you in broad daylight?

His family begins laughing and saying things like "looks like you got yourself a sleepwalker"

So you weren't purposefully trying to leave him?

He cries tears of joy and spends the next couple of days pampering you and giving you just about everything you want

He does his best to show you that he's sorry

Brahms Heelshire

It's quite literally known that Brahms has abandonment issues at this point

So when he catches you climbing up onto the window sill

He loses it

Will grab you and roughly pull you off, your body falling to the ground

This immediately wakes you up, your eyes searching around frantically

When you see Brahms standing above you, you try to reach for him, but he only shoves you away

You look so sad and confused at this, but Brahms is too stubborn to give in

He starts tying you up again each night, still very hurt that you would try to leave like that

It takes weeks for you to gain his trust again

And the one night he lets you sleep freely, he catches you by the window again

But instead of grabbing you immediately, he decides to just watch

He wants to see how far you'll go so he knows just how severe your punishment will need to be

But instead, you just give up on unlocking the window (it was jammed), and you just turn around and walk straight back to bed, not even registering Brahms being right there

This is odd

You need to explain the concept of sleepwalking to him the next day

He still remains skeptical for a while, but he'll come around

You just need to be extra attentive for a while...

Norman Bates

Norman already knows a lot about sleepwalking

(It's what he thought was going on for a while when he couldn't remember large chunks of time throughout the week)

When he finds you opening a window in the middle of the night, he bolts at you, ready to lock you back up in one of the motel rooms again

However, when you don't respond or reveal any emotion on your face, he immediately knows what's going on

He's surprised

He didn't know you'd be a sleepwalker

He decides to just lead you back to bed, knowing that waking you isn't the best idea

Sits you down the next morning and talks with you about it

When you seem very apologetic, he uses it to his advantage

Has you cuddle up with him even more than normal and stay by his side at all hours of the day

He still gives you some freedom

But he's always watching

He does take some precautions and ties your wrist up in the middle of the night

He has to, for your safety of course

Billy Loomis

To be honest, you don't make it very far

Billy has an iron grip on you at all times, and he's a light sleeper

The moment you get up, he's awake, observing you carefully

Sometimes you have to pee in the middle of the night, but he still makes sure you aren't lying to him

His ability to trust is practically in the ground

The moment you turn the wrong way, he's up and chasing after you

Were you that dumb? You knew he watched you every time you got up from bed

He grabs your wrist quickly and points a knife at your throat as a threat

He can't bring himself to actually hurt you though, not that you knew that

Or did you?

Because you just stand there not even moving away from the blade

Billy becomes very confused

He takes his hand and begins to wake it in front of your face, looking for some sort of reaction

You don't give him one

Are you still... asleep?

He shakes you a bit until you finally look at him, confusion written all over your face

You're a sleepwalker, aren't you?

He just rolls his eyes annoyed and drags you back to bed, not explaining anything

Just another thing he needs to look out for now

You sometimes wake up to bruises on your hips and waist from how hard Billy holds you in the night, but he's just trying to protect you, right?

He doesn't mean to hurt you, he just refuses to lose another person in his life

Stu Macher

Stu literally sleeps on you, so it's nearly impossible for you to leave the bed most nights

But if you somehow wiggle your way out, you wouldn't make it outside the house

The windows have been nailed so that they only open a small amount

When he finds you the next morning, curled up under a partially opened window, he just smiles

Call it naive, but he just assumes you were getting too warm in the bed

When you wake up in a confused state however, he becomes concerned

What do you mean you don't remember opening that window?

He honestly just becomes more worried that there's something wrong with your memory rather than you trying to leave him

He'll likely talk to Billy about it

He just hears laughter from the other end of the phone

"Sounds like they sleep walk," he'd say

Stu does a bunch of research on it later

He doesn't really mind though

All of the unsafe objects are already hidden away, and every possible exit is locked down

You aren't going anywhere

If anything, he finds it fun to wake up some mornings and look around for you

It's like a game, and Stu loves games

[whateveriwant]

Annoying Things the 141 Do

Price

Never cleans the sink well after he shaves. Every time you go in the bathroom after he’s trimmed his beard, it’s like walking into a crime scene of a hamster massacre

Always manages to load the dishwasher wrong (because, yes, there is a right way and a wrong way to do it, John)

Asks you to wait for him to get home so you can watch your shows together, but then as soon as you start the first episode, he falls asleep beside you

Smokes his cigars inside sometimes. I don’t care that you sprayed air freshener afterwards, sir. Now the whole house smells like spring meadow and shit!

Is incapable of closing the door behind himself?? At least, that appears to be the case since he’s always leaving your door wide open even though you ask him to shut it when he goes

Doesn’t like throwing things out because he’ll “find a use for it one day”. Even if that day ever does come, I think he has a better chance of finding Atlantis than finding that scrap piece of wood he saved four years ago

Ghost

Turns the TV on and then just… walks away??? And if you try to change it to something else, he grumbles “I was watchin’ tha’” when he comes back

Drinks milk/juice/etc. straight out of the carton. Mr Simon “Patient Zero” Riley might not see the problem with this, but I think the rest of us would agree that is diabolical behavior

Leaves his wet towel on the floor after he showers even though the towel rack is right? there?

Hates asking for help even when he has no clue what he’s doing. Like, sure, I get wanting to fix things yourself. However, I’d rather spend $100 on a simple repair than $1000 on a full replacement after he breaks the thing even more

Puts his phone calls on speaker whenever possible. While this can have its merits sometimes (you get firsthand news of Gaz’s engagement!), most of the time it feels like a nuisance (do you really need to hear Soap talk about his hemorrhoids?)

MANSPREADERRRR! This man cannot sit like a civilized being to save his life. He claims he sits like that because his balls need to breathe, and to that I say good luck trying to breathe after I karate chop you in the throat :))))

Soap

Cuts his toenails in bed, which wouldn’t necessarily be an issue if he didn’t accidentally leave one or two rogue clippings that stab you in the side later when you’re trying to get comfortable

Forgets to put the toilet seat down when he gets up in the middle of the night to pee – that or he pisses all over the seat in the dark. Either way, prepare to have wet cheeks the next time you sit on the toilet

Whenever he doesn’t feel like doing the laundry, he just buys a new set of whatever’s dirty (that’s how he ended up with 100 pairs of socks and 200 pairs of underwear)

Talks nonstop through every show/movie you try to watch. Good luck getting more than five minutes of uninterrupted runtime next to this yapper

Apparently, doesn’t understand what “one bite” means? Whenever he asks you for a bite of your food, he always ends up taking five or six

Also, apparently doesn’t know how to chew with his mouth closed? Like, I’m glad you’re enjoying your meal, Johnny, but can you enjoy it without speckling it all over the table and my face?

Gaz

Two words: bathroom hog. I hope you don’t like taking hot showers or having more than a 6x6 inch square of counter space for your stuff, because after Kyle’s done with his 30-step beauty routine, there’s little of either left

Never knows what he wants to eat for dinner, and no matter what you suggest, he never thinks it sounds good

Has the gall to chastise you for your screen time even though he’s just as bad as you, if not worse (because you being on your phone before bed is so much worse than him playing video games for nine hours straight, right?)

Rests his feet on the couch/bed/coffee table while wearing shoes. It doesn’t matter if they’re brand new or beaten up; take your damn shoes off the furniture, sir!

Never writes down the shopping list because he’ll “remember everything”. (Newsflash: he does not remember everything, which means cue taking a second trip to the store)

Watches one documentary and thinks he’s an expert on the subject. You can have studied a thing for years, can present him with a bunch of rock solid facts and reputable sources, and he’ll hit you with a “Well, actually ☝️🤓” and then proceed to give the most nonsensical take ever

[luvst4rc0r3]

You love Jinx, truly. But sometimes there are habits that she does that pisses you off. Like: her lack of communication, taking food off your plate. But there is one habit in particular that makes you the most angry. Whenever she gets hooked on a new project, she ignores everything. Don’t get it wrong you love when she is passionate about something. But going to bed alone, making her a plate of food only for her to maybe eat it, sitting by her only to realize 10 minutes later that she will not talk to you, the list goes on and on.

So here you are, getting ready for bed while Jinx is still working on whatever she is working on. You’re used to this but it still hurts some nights. But there is something you don’t know.

You don’t sleep alone. Never in your entire relationship have you slept alone.

You might think you do but no Jinx always climbs onto your stomach 20 minutes later. She lays down on your chest while she looks at your sleeping face. Seeing how your brows furrow, how your forehead wrinkles, how you get this face whenever something happens in your dream, Jinx can name 100 more things you do when you’re asleep. Sometimes she falls asleep or sometimes she just stares at you for hours

When you wake up from your slumber Jinx is already gone and working on her project. You usually fell warm not alone like when you’re going to bed…it’s confusing.

I need to do more drabbles

I want food

[tacticaldiary]

Reader joining 141 for a mission and Simon is not having it and is pissed at price for calling them and all of the other guys are confused about why ghost is so upset till they find out reader is his wife after the mission

Maybe reader got hurt and ghost goes off on price

The Price Of A Secret

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"People get injured on the job, Ghost." Gaz tries to defuse the situation. "She's alive-"

"This is different." He grits out.

"And why's that?"

"Because that's my wife!" He hisses, slamming his fist onto the table. It strikes them harder than if he were to have yelled it at them.

A/N: It's 2:45am and I have no energy to proofread caution advised-

Masterlist

The moment the picture of the intelligence officer joining them flashes on the screen, Ghost puts his foot down.

"She's not coming."

Everyone in the room pauses, Price staring at Ghost mid sentence. It's the usual 141, and then it's her. Sitting there with a mildly frustrated look, refusing to look at him because she should have known he'd try to pull some shit like this.

"Why not?" Price folds his arm, narrowing his eyes. "Is there an issue, Lieutenant?"

She was supposed to work from the inside, drawing out data and cracking through defences that they then passed on to people like the 141. An integral part of the process of running the whole task force, but not once was she involved in hands-on field work.

It's not that she's incompetent. No, not at all. Ghost would have his head bit off if he even remotely implied that because it simply isn't true. She got the top scores in almost every part of her training exercises, and yet she chose the intelligence part of the military to serve in. His wife was as competent as they got.

His wife.

"This is a covert operation, the fewer people the better." That's what he goes with. Not because his heart picks up at the thought of her being anywhere near what they deal with every day.

"I won't have the range I need to retrieve the data from their servers if I'm not close to them." She speaks up, and their eyes meet from across the room.

His determined, hers resolute.

Sometimes he really hated that she was so fucking stubborn. It had been the same stubbornness that cracked down the iron grip he'd had on the walls in his mind and around his heart, but if that stubbornness was what got her killed Simon would give up this joy in a heartbeat.

He'd do it for her if it meant she kept on living.

"This isn't up for discussion, Ghost." Price states, "She's part of this operation on my authority."

"Price-"

"End of discussion. You settle whatever you have going on outside this room." And fuck, he can't refute a direct order like that, can he?

Ghost sees her release a long exhale, and he knows he won't share such a relief until this damn operation was over and done with.

                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Her body is so limp it scares the ever-loving shit out of him.

Ghost grips her so tight it's as if he himself is the only thing tethering her soul to her body, boots thumping hard against the muddy ground as they retreat back to their extraction point, data successfully retrieved.

Successfully, not smoothly.

The plan was simple. They'd flank the building while she camped out near the edge of the woods, retrieving the intel they needed. A couple of fuckers slipped out of the building and went straight for her.

Ghost's stomach turns when he remembers how he found the scene. She wasn't answering through her comms, but he knew he wasn't able to leave his position until the building was secure.

Waiting felt like an eternity, he could feel Soap send troubled glances in his direction at the way Ghost was unusually silent and more brutal than.

When the building was finally secure, they'd gone to reunite with her position and found three men dead, bloody seeping into the ground in a crimson mess. The last one standing hovered over her unconscious form, over his wife with a knife raised ready to slit her thought.

The only thought Ghost had as he ripped the man away with his hands was that he was going to take the one good thing in his life away, and he would not let that happen. Not her. Not like this.

"Bleeding wound to the head, unconscious but still breathing!" Gaz called out while Ghost shoved the man's own knife into his throat. Tossing the gurgling body aside like a ragdoll, he's immediately by her side, assessing before carefully lifting her up in his arms.

It's the most emotion Ghost has ever expressed in front of the others, but he couldn't give a fuck about the looks or the questions right now. Her heartbeat against him settled him the slightest bit with the reassurance that she was alive.

Angry does not begin to describe what itches under Ghost's skin as they scramble into their exfil airship.

"Medic!" He barks the second they lift off. Setting her down, he brushes the bloody strands of her hair away from her face.

Despite the urge to stay by her side, the medic gingerly requests for him to take a step back so he could work. Ghost obliges but his eyes never leave her face.

He's painfully aware of his wedding ring pressing against his chest, strung onto a chain long enough to be tucked under his uniform. A matching one to her own.

Nobody speaks.

Perhaps they recognise the anger washing off of Ghost in waves, because if they'd just bloody listened to him, she wouldn't be laying there with a head wound.

The atmosphere is heavy and sombre. Even Soap keeps his mouth shut, too confused by the outward, uncharacteristic way Ghost was acting to make fun of it.

It's only when the medic announces she's stable that the suffocating knot in Ghost's chest loosens. There's audible relief from everyone in the place.

"Bloody hell." Price breathes, and something in Ghost snaps.

"I told you to dismiss her from the op." He says coldly, turning to the man.

"We got what we needed, son." He sighs, deep and tired, and part of Ghost understands that this was their life. But he's too worked up to care.

"At a fucking cost."

"People get injured on the job, Ghost." Gaz tries to defuse the situation. "She's alive, that's all that matters. Nothing permanent, yeah?" He glances at the medic, who confirms with a nod before slipping away.

"This is different." Ghost grits out.

"Why's that?"

"Because that's my wife!" He hisses, slamming his fist onto the metallic walls. It strikes them harder than if he were to have yelled it at them.

How long had it taken for Ghost-...no, for Simon to let someone crack open his defences until he was coaxed out and allowed himself to love again? Four years they've been married, and four years he's kept it a secret.

It's not that he doesn't trust his team. He trusts them with his life, would lay his own down for Johnny, Gaz, and Price any day.

But this? This was bigger than him, she was the most precious thing that had ever happened to him, and the safest way to preserve that was the keep it on a need-to-know basis.

She'd agreed with him, of course. In that soft, patient way she always has with him. She'd seen the paranoia in him, recognised that he needed this one thing for himself, and she'd been more than happy to oblige.

What was outside validation about her relationship worth when she got to crawl into his arms at the end of the day? Be granted the pleasure that comes with being loved by someone as protective, intelligent, and sharp as Simon Riley? She adores all of him, even the jagged pieces that cut into her from time to time, because he's always there to take care of her afterwards.

"She's my wife." He repeats quieter, sitting back down. Exhaustion lines the slope of his shoulder's dark circles well present under his mask.

"You're married." Soap is the first to speak, incredulously. "You? Ghost? You're married?" His eyes flicker down to Ghost's left hand, and then to Gaz and Price who look equally as surprised. "I mean, congratulations?" He trails off, knowing it's not really the situation to celebrate.

"Thanks." A tired, small voice has everyone's attention back onto the figure on the bed. Ghost is on his feet in moments, by her bedside. "It'll be five years in...what, a month?" She cracks an eye open, giving Simon a tired, smile.

"Two months." He corrects with a mutter, and Johnny looks like he might just collapse. "Sitrep?"

"We're not on the field anymore." She groans, pushing herself to sit up. Ghost's hands fly to her immediately, helping her sit up. At his blank, insistent stare, she relents with a deep sigh. "My head's killing me but other than that just a few scrapes and bruises." Her hand travels down to grab his at her shoulder, squeezing briefly.

"I'm alright." Her voice turns into something soft and reassuring, and it's only then that a quiet, shuddering breath comes out of Simon's lungs. "I think I'll sit to working from the inside though." She jokes weakly. "Leave the dirtier work to you brutes."

It lightens the mood as intended, eliciting a snort from Gaz. "Yes, ma'am."

He'd make sure she got checked out properly when they landed, but for now he takes his place sitting beside her. The others fall into a hushed conversation after a while, but he makes no move to join them.

A warm hand intertwines with his, hidden beneath the bulk of their combined gear.

"I'm alright, Simon." She mumbles, just loud enough for him to hear.

Simon squeezes her hand in response. "Fucking hell, love." He breathes.

And it's enough to convey everything he's thinking. Humming, she tips her head against his shoulder and lets her eyes slip shut. The warmth of his body, even through the tang of copper is enough of a familiar comfort to drain the tension from her body.

She's fast asleep against his shoulder a minute later, and the devil himself couldn't make Simon move lest he wake her now.

He wasn't a publicly affectionate person by any means...but he trusted his team enough for this right now.

Letting his own head press against the metal wall behind them, his eyes shift to meet Price's. A softer, knowing look from the Captain is all he needs to hook his chin over her head and turn his attention outside the small window.

And if he counts her breathing while she sleeps for his own peace of mind? Well, that's no one's business but his.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

(10/09/2023)

[hakxs]

ཻ ﹑ ♥︎ ⌉ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ small drabbles of you warming up to lottie in the wilderness, a bond formed from a slow infatuation for her.

ཻ ﹑ 📝 ⌉ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ I’ve been working on this for awhile !! lots of bumps in the road due to my computer being silly .. as always, point out any mistakes I didn’t really double check :—)

lottie, who always seems weirdly calm when tensions are high and everyone else is constantly at each others throats, whenever fights usually break out between the team she slips away when she thinks no one is looking.

one day you finally catch up far enough to follow her and decide to see what she’s doing. lottie stands way too still when she’s by herself in the open pasture near the camp, trees surrounding her everywhere and arms loose by her sides like she's rooted into the earth.

you catch her eyes fixed on the trees, unmoving, like she’s waiting for something to answer back. for a split second you think that she can talk to the trees, like literally flail her arms around and move like one .. you rule it off as stupid, and you don’t dare bring it up.

after you’ve snuck away and the sun is about to set, you’re just about done with helping a group of girls cut up a stiff slab of meat for dinner. lottie calls you to pull you aside, the girls in your group staring at you with concern as lottie is unbothered, her eyes squinting at you while she looks you up and down, ever so slightly.

" hey, " lottie says. " have you been... following me around? “ she trails off.

you hesitate, racking your brain on what to say next. " .. define following. “ you say, trying to keep it light, joking almost, but your voice comes out a little shaky and awkward. she just stares at you, the silence between you two stretches out long enough to feel like a punishment.

finally, lottie speaks up, " you don’t have to spy. If you want to understand, just ask. “ you open your mouth to give a rebuttal and say you’re not interested, but it’s like she knows all too well and cuts you off.

but she tilts her head slightly at you and whispers. “ sneaking around is dangerous, don’t get caught. “

when you blink and try to process if what she just said to you was a threat or a friendly reminder, before you could ask her she’s already turned her back and walked off, as if she was never really there to begin with.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀

lottie, who always opts to walk behind you when you get teamed up for smaller missions. this was a reoccurring issue, but today you decided to bring it up to her since the both of you were put together to find small twigs to fuel the bonfire so there could be warmth for tonight’s feast, a simple task given by shauna. but you could never grasp why lottie was so persistent on going with you since she usually stayed at the camp during these missions.

“ hey, lottie. why are you always looming behind me?” you ask once, turning around to look at her, lotties very presence behind you made you feel extremely weary, you didn't trust her at all.

“ I'm watching your back, “ lottie stops in her tracks and answers without a second thought, It almost pisses you off cause of how rehearsed her response sounded.

“ i didn’t ask you to. “ you bite back, ignoring her as you continue to walk off. and of course, she’s still following behind you.

⠀⠀

lottie, who’s first instinct is to stand in front of you when there's a sudden noise in the woods near you. her arm out, pushing you behind her. you finally drop the being annoyed at lottie tough guy act and cling onto her arm for dear life. <3

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀

lottie who gives you things and tries to brush it off as her protecting you?? sometimes she just goes up to you, gives you a random flower or twig and says it’ll protect you, it’s a omen that the wilderness told her to gift to you. what does that mean? you’re not sure, it honestly sounds like she’s lying to you, but you keep it anyway, alongside your smaller stash of leaves and flowers she gave you right next to your makeshift bed inside your hut.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀

lottie, who offers you half her rations, doesn’t matter what the meal is, berries? she offers. meat? she offers that too. at first, you try to refuse everytime she gives you the food because you think she’s pitying you. she raises a brow and nudges the food toward you again.

“ you need to eat, “ lottie says, a heavy hint of concern in her eyes. " winter is coming soon, eat more. "

you almost fight her and tell her that you're fine and you ate enough for today, but then you look at her in the eyes, and realize that lottie literally looks like shes about to burst from sadness and she won’t let up this time, you take the meat with no further objections.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀

lottie, who you catch yourself defending while you’re talking in social circles during the afternoon. the topic had shifted multiple times, what you guys were gonna do when you got out, what kind of food you wanted .. how scary shauna was, melissa had alot to say about this topic, so you all let her talk. that was until she started talking bad about lottie.

“ … and then lottie, don’t even get me started on lottie! it’s like her and shauna work in cahoots to see who’s more fucked — “ melissa whispers to the group, you quickly cut into the conversation after this.

“ okay well, what if lottie wasn’t as bad as we portray her to be? I mean, sure, she’s crazy but there are motives for her madness. “ a strange silence follows for a quick minute as everyone turns to look at you. “ I mean– i think she has motives. “ you spit out in a rebuttal, trying to save yourself but immediately failing.

mari snickers from across the circle and she shakes her head, “ well, that’s only because you and lottie are like .. suspiciously good friends. “ mari laughs out, you almost felt like punching her then and there.

lottie, who you catch watching you more often than not. you don't think its scary, even though her staring does creep you out a bit. you think of it as a love language, like she’s trying to read you, or protect you from god knows what.

“ what? “ you ask one day, finally getting embarrassed enough from her gaze to speak up.

“ nothing, “ she says, smiling just a little “ you just look different today. ” lottie hums, you can’t tell if she’s being serious or if she’s trying to fool you. and with that, you blink slowly as you muster out a small “ interesting. ”, you don’t trust yourself to say anything else.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀

lottie, who confides in you after she learns something new. she’ll tell you if her newest experiment worked and she really thinks she’s onto something, like the trees are actually starting to speak in a language she understands, or if she wants you to help her with whatever she’s trying to do for the day. unfortunately for her, you don’t really feel like participating in her latest shenanigan this time after a ton of excuses, she understands.

sometimes, you just let her talk, you really like listening to her speak.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀

lottie, who always convinces you to spend time with her, it doesn’t matter if it’s sitting by the river and splashing eachother, indulging in her strange behavior, or doing the most boring of chores with her, like brushing the goats. you catch yourself having fun with her ever so often and you didn’t realize how close you’d become until you really pondered on it, the unfortunate outcome was pink cheeks, teasings from your friends and ignoring lottie for a day after the realization, though.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀

lottie, who was aware that you warmed up to her eventually, you both lay down on a comfortable pair of leaves near the camp, staring up at the stars in the same clear pasture lottie usually spends her time in.

“ I like you, lottie. “ you say, quietly, like you’re telling her your deepest, darkest, secret. “ I really like you. “

she doesn’t say anything for awhile until she decides to mutter out a small “ I know.” that makes you smile.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

So I

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your casual arrangement turns a bit too serious.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

There’s a knock at the door. You huff as you don’t need to look through the peep hole to know who it is. No buzzer but he always finds a way. 

You pick up your phone and open the chat, ‘told you I’m tired.’ 

The little check mark flicks down. Read. No reply comes, only another knock on the door. 

‘Long day.’ You send another message. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. 

“You really want me to knock the door down?” Bucky chuckles through the wood. 

You inhale and roll yourself off the couch. You drop the phone on the square end table as you pass and drag your feet to the door. You lean on the inside and yawn as loudly as you can. 

“It’s after curfew,” you jeer. He wiggles the handle. “Go home.” 

“You’re gonna leave me out here like a stray cat? Come on. I came all the way down here,” he pleads. 

You turn your back to the door and shrug, “told you not to. Besides, not all of us have a soft spot for alley cats.” 

“Alpine is not an ally cat. Come on, I brought beer.” 

You scoff, “thought that piss didn’t do anything for ya?” 

“No, but it makes you a lot of fun.” 

You huff and push off the door. You turn and slide back the chain. You flip the lock back and open up. You arch a brow at your uninvited guested. 

“Thank you,” you trill and grab the six pack from him. He catches the door before you can swing it shut. He tuts and steps forward, pushing his elbow into the wood until you let it go. 

“Don’t play games. You know, I can tell when you’re in need of a good fucking. You don’t send any emojis.” He snaps the door shut behind him as you retreat with your prize. 

“Or maybe I was trying to get you to stop texting so I could enjoy my new toy in peace. Ever think of that. Sometimes It's about efficiency, not passion.” 

“Passion?” He scoffs as leans a hand on the wall and lifts a foot to undo his boot. 

“Probably not the right word for this,” you free a can from the plastic rings and shove the rest in the fridge. 

“You and your goddamn toys. Let me guess, this one has blue tooth.” 

“Does yours?” You strut out of the kitchen and flick his arm in passing. 

“No but it’s got all the features you need and you know it.” He taps your ass before you can elude him. 

You crack the can of beer and take a deep gulp. The TV continues to blare the reality show retrospective you’ve been feeding your time to. You flop on the couch and sigh. You suck down the grainy brew and swallow a gulp before it can escape your throat. 

Bucky looms behind the couch and grips the back. He leans over you. “How many of those until those hideous pajamas come off?” 

“Ha? What? You don’t wanna fuck me in my Spongebob jammies? They’re vintage.” 

He snorts, “you really are good a killing the mood, aren’t you?” 

“You’re a real Squidward sometimes, you know that?” You slurp another mouthful. 

“I have no idea what that is,” he says flatly as he tickles along your shoulder. 

You hate it. You hate him. Just a touch and you’re ready to go. Minutes ago, you were ready to pass out but now you’re wide awake. And fucking horny. 

“BPM going up, body temperature rising,” he runs his vibranium knuckles along your cheek and you wince away from him. 

“I hate when you do that.” You pull away and stand, plunking down the can. You huff and peel off your tank top. “I have an interview for a promotion tomorrow so hurry up.” 

“Romantic? Do you still wanna use the new toy? You know I don’t mind filling your mouth when you get like this.” 

You stick your tongue out at him and point to the bedroom. He rolls his eyes and strides off. You pause the television and take another swig of beer. You need to sleep and he’s good at fucking you into a coma. 

As you reach the bedroom, he’s already naked. His broad shoulders are etched in scars, the left one mottled with aged burns along the border of vibranium. His muscles cord down along his rib cage and sides.

A year ago, you would never expect a man like this to be standing naked in your bedroom. A super soldier. Bucky Barnes. 

He turns to you and wiggles the little square between his two fingers. The wrapped condom reflects the overhead light with its flashy packaging. He flexes his chest as you reach to undo your bra. 

“Should I pop it on now or can I get a taste first?” He asks with a flick of his tongue. 

You march to him and swipe the condom from his grasp. You jab his chest and he staggers back to the bed, his legs pressing against the frame. He teeters as he smirks down at you. 

“I’ll give you a ride, cowboy.” 

He falls back and spreads his arms wide. The bed squeaks beneath his weight. You push down your pajama pants and climb over him. You toss the mattress to the top of the bed as you raise yourself on your knees, hovering over his head as his thick hair fans out beneath.

He turns to graze his beard against your thigh. You purr and lower yourself to smother him in your cunt. He hums and laps at you eagerly. 

Mmm. This is exactly the stress relief you need. 

[kaisaerinlover]

big brother kaiser

tw: incest, dubcon, abuse, PISS🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑

this is just horny slop i wrote at night don’t read if you’re grossed out by little things easily

you’re a grown woman but kaiser still treats you like you’re a little baby. but maybe it’s because you are his little baby. his little baby sister who is, unfortunately, going through her rebellious preteen phase way too many years late. purposefully irking him and not listening to him, seriously, what is he ever going to do with you? you know everything he’s sacrificed for you and yet you still somehow manage to be disobedient and piss him off, somehow still have it in you to give him an attitude. he really hoped you would skip this phase; he likes punishing you but not for this. this is seriously pissing him off.

everytime you turn your head up at him, glare at him, tell him he’s the worst brother ever, cuss him out whatever he gets so angry with you. you should know better than everyone else how little patience your brother has, how angry he is, how twisted he is, how he’s not shy about punishing you at all. but you think you’re too special for that. and in a way you are - sometimes he truly can’t bring himself to hurt you. you heal the anger in him. but you’ve pushed your luck too far with him now; way too far, little bitch. you know, when your elder brother is a the kind of human that michael kaiser is, you should revel in that. and you don’t. he knows it’s his fault, as much as he hurts you he knows he’s probably spoiled you far too much for your own good. that’s why you think it’s fine to talk to other guys, isn’t it?

that’s why he has you pressed against the hard wood floor of your shared bedroom, growling into your ear. “what’s wrong with you, you slut? is your brothers cock not enough for you? getting dicked down by me your whole life isn’t enough for you? you want other men? you’re not even my sister anymore. if you wanna be a slut i’ll treat you like one” he’s enraged. you can tell. and you sniffle. sniffle and cry and look up at him with big glassy eyes like he’s a god ready to pass judgement of you, like it’s reckoning day and you’re begging a divine otherworldly being for the mercy of survival. and in a way, he is your god. he is your divine being. you’ve not been treating him like that though; so deep down you know you deserve it.

he flips you onto your back (still on the horribly painful floor because michael kaiser does not care about the comfort of sluts) and slaps you in the face. it stings, and the sight of your despaired face just pushes him onwards even more. god he loves it when you look so fucking helpless under him. if you wanna act like a whore he’ll fuck you like one. he’s rough enough as it is when he deems you his precious baby sister so you can’t imagine what you’re about to get now — probably hell. or worse.

looking up at your brother’s eyes when he’s deranged is horrifying, to say the absolute least. it’s even worse when he laughs. you’re so sheltered; spent all your years with him — yet he’s unreadable to you still. you can’t tell what he’s thinking or if he’s actually amused or ready to bite your head off when he laughs to himself whilst looking down at you, smushed against the hard wooden floor. he knows it’s hurting you, he just doesn’t care. you’re nothing in his eyes right now.

kaiser maniacally starts stripping you of your clothes; and you let him. you let him manoeuvre you around painfully so he can take them off easier. “i should have known something was off,” he rips off your shirt “something was so fucking off when you suddenly didn’t want to fuck anymore” he peels off your tights, “i mean, i’ve trained you to crave this cock, so seeing you suddenly be ‘too tired’ and fall asleep and not let me fuck you for 2 weeks was weird” he rags off that tiny skirt he bought you a week ago “you’re normally such a whore for me, i should have known you were slutting around” he stares down at your half naked form; pretty lingerie being the only cover over that pussy he loves to fuck and those tits he oh so loves to pinch and make you yelp. “seriously, just how much of a slut are you? i don’t even want you as my sister anymore, i don’t even think i love you” he’s sneering down at you condescendingly and pulling his cock out of his pants now. it fucking hurts, being stripped down like a slut whilst he’s fully clothed save for his cock in his hand he’s palming so slowly. “but it’s fine, i know how to treat a filthy slut like you.”

you don’t know what’s scarier; your brother when he laughs like some deranged lunatic or your brother when he suddenly drops all signs of amusement and stares at you dead in the eye. he won’t even talk to you now, doesn’t say anything as he jerks himself and roughly pulls your panties off of your dainty legs and shoves them in your mouth. doesn’t even say anything as he just buries himself inside of you with no prep or anything — that’s real mean, big bro. you’re drooling around your panties like a stupid fucking whore. god you’re embarrassed. he won’t even address you, won’t say anything to you that you’re supposed to answer. “whore” he growls as he fucks you hard into the floor. as he pierces you with his cock. it hurts, you’re terrified about your intestines maybe spilling out from your insides and onto the expensive polished wooden floors and giving kaiser another reason to hate you. “bitch” he grunts as he rags your hair and pushes down on your stomach to feel the huge bulge his godly dick leaves there. “fucking- ah- slut” he bites at your ear and punches you so hard in the stomach you vomit a bit as he fucks you. you’re disgusting; you actually look fucking disgusting. snotty nose, teary eyes, drool everywhere, panties shoved in your stupid fucking whore mouth, a bit of puke seeping out, big bruise on your stomach from your brothers unforgiving fist. you look so fucking gross under your brother. and you deserve it — you stupid fucking slut. you chastise yourself in your head whenever you get the chance to think throughout your brothers angry ordeal. kick yourself mentally for being such a whore. every hard thrust into your poor abused pussy reminds you of how badly you’ve messed up. and kaiser won’t stop, when he’s mad, he’s mad. maybe he inherited your father’s rage; maybe soon you’ll inherit your mother’s trait of leaving. maybe you’ll leave him finally. kaiser’s worried about it plenty of times too — so he’s taken measures to prevent it anyway. a slap to your cheek brings you out of your thoughts and back to the painful reality you’re suffering right now. it hurts as he slams himself into you over and over, when he hits you and drags you around like you’re nothing but some sex toy and not even a person, when your body slams into the less than comfortable floor. but then, he pulls himself out of you. he didn’t even cum. it’s weird, your brother is always ready to drain his balls deep inside of you regardless of his temperament at the moment; maybe he’s not mad anymore? maybe he realised how badly he fucked up? maybe he’s sorry for hurting the sweet little angel known as his doting little siste-

his cock is shoved in your mouth and your panties are discarded as he kneels over you and fucks your tiny throat so hard you’re sure you’ll vomit a second time. you’ve both seen enough graphic and vile things unfold in front of you with your own two eyes to the point that the fact he’s fucking your puke from that nasty punch on your tummy back down your dumb throat isn’t even a concern for you. “you’re nothing but a whore, i don’t cum in whores; maybe i’ll catch something. maybe i’ll give you a baby. i don’t want a nasty slut mothering- my offspring- ah-“ he condescends you. “but i need to put my cum somewhere- you’re a good slut- you’ll eat it all. it’s the only meal i’m giving you for a good while so be grateful. it’s the only thing- ah- i’ll be feeding you for some- time- you fucking bitch-“ kaiser is so… cruel. but you deserve it. you know he’s about to cum when he grabs your hair and shoves even his balls into your tiny mouth; you have to squeeze your eyes shut from the ungodly amount of pain you’re being put through. god; you really have messed up. what the fuck? really, you’re so sorry to your brother. your eyes sting from your tears and your throat burns as your brother unloads himself into it. wrings himself dry into your abused body. and roughly slams your aching mouth closed so you don’t dare to waste any of his precious seed. “don’t waste that; spill any of it and i’ll do something even worse to you” his eyes are full of malice. why must you always be subject to it? you’re still crying, still teary eyed, still look disgusting.

bruised all over, you look fucking pathetic. “i-i’m sorry- i won’t do it again-“ he almost gives in. almost. seeing you like this is almost making him hard again. almost making him want to obliterate your stupid fucking whore pussy again. but he won’t; he has something even better planned. crouching over you looking down at you like you’re some piece of shit on the floor, some subhuman who is worth nothing, anything that lacks value. and he smirks at you. he coos down at you. the tone of his voice almost sounds loving. “aww, how sweet of you, are you sorry now?” he pouts at you mockingly. you almost get excited; but even your poor ability to read people knows that it’s not sweet at all. “that’s just too bad, maybe you should have thought of that before being such a slut. but it’s okay, do this one thing for me well and maybe i’ll start thinking about forgiving you” and you nod, so eager to please, missing your kind saviour brother already. still crying but looking so hopeful. so hopeful as he drags you by the hair to the bathroom.

that hope disappears as he pulls his pants down again and has you on your knees. “you’re not worth anything to me right now, i don’t care about you. but if you do a good job at this i’ll see how sorry you are and then we can talk about forgiveness” he looks down at you so mockingly, such a condescending glare. and you just gulp and nod. kaiser’s cock is nothing new to you; but this is. what he’s about to do is. “open wide, or don’t, but i think you don’t want to piss me off more than you already have. it’s in your best interest to listen now, hm?” and you open your mouth. open your mouth as he puts his cock to it and relieves himself. “wow you actually did it” he sniggers down at you. god this is fucking embarrassing. getting pissed on by your brother. “you’re such a fucking whore” he patronises you even more. thinks you’re soo cute when you look so defeated. dejection written all over your face. you’re lucky your brother is an athlete, he drinks plenty of water. he sort of wishes he wouldn’t though — he’s so pissed at you he would gladly have made it as disgusting as possible if he could. but this will do. when he’s done he wipes his spent cock on your cheek, piss dripping down it, and ruffles your head a bit. you actually just drank his piss. you’re not sure if he’ll ever even love you again now! but this was the first smidge of affection he’s shown you since hours ago. so you lean into it. “good girl” he coos at you, still mocking; but this is better than nothing. you’re ruined. your hair is a mess, you have piss down your face, your nose is all snotty, eyes all teary, half naked on his bathroom floor. you’re a wreck. no other man could ever want you in this state, only him. don’t worry, your brother isn’t like all of the other nasty men that roam this earth. he just wishes you understood that too before you did what you did.

he’s had you sleeping on the floor for weeks at the point he finally realises that, well, michael kaiser was wrong for once. you weren’t whoring around at all — you simply talked to a guy who asked for directions one time. he just assumed otherwise. and the guilt slowly creeps up on him. the guilt of the way he’s been treating you the past few weeks, oh my god. he’s actually fucked up a great amount. a grandiose amount even. and you just took it. he wants to take this as a moment to pat himself on his back for how well he has you trained that you seriously accepted you were wrong and gave in to all of the unfairness he subjected upon your stupid little self, but even that makes him feel guilty. seeing your bruised form sleeping on the floor next to his bed just to be near him when you could easily go into one of the guest bedrooms or your own bedroom at night. he sighs and rubs his forehead; he’ll be needing to make this up big time. but the next morning, that guilt has vanished. sure, he starts treating you normally again. calling you his sweet baby sister and doting on you all over again. and you just bask in the attention and suck up to him like always. pliant and cute, just how he likes. that guilt is gone, replaced with the realisation that you’re really and truly his. even when he’s in the wrong you just take it. and he likes that. and you like that too; love it even. love when he leans down to kiss you on the forehead and tell you what a good sister you are. not once is an apology uttered on his part. that’s for you. sorry isn’t a word in his vocabulary. never has been never will be. and you’re too dumb and far gone to know that it should be after everything you’ve been subjected to by your brother. but ignorance is bliss. maybe if you had awareness you’d need years of therapy to recover from such mistreatment anyway.

kaiser is a gracious man, so he won’t let you become aware enough to get to that state. lucky you, having such a nice brother.

“i love you, such a perfect sister for me” he coos down at you. and you smile so innocently at him. “i love you too, you’re the best brother i could ask for” he embraces you after that. and you embrace him back. maybe you’d expect him to cry after hearing such a beautifully pure confession from you; but he just smirks as he holds you. right where he wants you. so lucky he is.

[monimccoythings]

Logan as a retired family man

I've always seen logan as a man who would settle in a smalltown looking for some goddamned peace and tranquility, that he never seems to get lol. I was also craving some domestic Logan, a man who gave up fighting and is now more focused on his family but knows that deep down he can't escape who he is and how many enemies he has.

This can be interpreted as either m!reader/f!reader/gn!reader, the newborn is either biological, adopted or another of Logan's clones this time mixed with reader's dna.

tags: domestic logan, f!reader or m! reader or gn!reader, logan being a dad, lumberjack logan.

Retired!Logan who hung his claws and now lives a peaceful life in a cabin in the woods close to a small town with you, Laura and your newborn daugther.

Retired!Logan who gets a job as a lumberjack and insists on maintaining you all and covering the bills, despite you having your own job.

Retired!Logan who grows a beard because he knows you like it and thinks it'll help him go unnoticed by the townsfolk (As if he wasn't a giant burly man with a 24/7 pissed off face).

Retired!Logan who keeps training in the woods because he lives in a perpetual estate of paranoia and fear that someone is out there to get his little family, because he still believes he doesn't deserve to be this happy.

Retired!Logan who is teaching Laura to hunt and fight; and hopefully, one day he'll train the littlest one as well because he's extremely overprotective of you all.

Retired!Logan who sometimes feels the urge to let his primal instincts run wild and hunts some prey with his bare hands and claws; afterwards he will clean, skin and serve his prize at the family barbecue in the backyard.

Retired!Logan who has to be basically dragged to any town events, but goes anyway because he knows you'll be there with him, supporting him through the entirety of the dreaded social event. Hadn't it been for you and the girls, he would have become the local hermit.

Retired!Logan that doesn't love anything more than to return home after a long and tiring day at work and hug his family. He'll help you serve dinner, will play with the girls and will clean up with you afterwards. He has become so domesticated, he's sure he won't get to hear the end of it from his fellow X-Men, but he's too happy to care.

Retired!Logan who every morning drives his little girls to school before work just to make sure they arrive safely and will kiss them goodbye, shooting death glares to anybody that dares to look them wrong.

Retired!Logan who likes to enjoy a beer with you on the porch after putting the girls to bed. He was never one to care much for stargazing, only for orientation, but just watching them with you, with only the sounds of nature surrounding you, made him more appreciative. And, as a bonus, sometimes (always) that stargazing turns into something more... passionate.

Retired!Logan who much to his chagrin has become some sort of local celebrity/urban legend after he defenestrated some punks that had tried to rob the town's diner where you were casually having lunch.

Retired!Logan who wonders how the fuck did he, of all people, get so goddamn lucky. How he gets to have all of this without any consequences.

Retired!Logan who knows without a hint of doubt that shall danger come to tear you three away from him, he will be waiting for it, claws out and ready.

[grahamzcracker]

𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞 | 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐦𝐚𝐧

i am not the one you want, babe . i am not the one you need .

▸ it ain’t me babe - joan baez

— dating s3 shauna (who is not yet over jackie, but shes trying!)

w.c : 670 / c.w : brief smut at the end (fingering, switch!shauna ??), probably a bit ooc... / request status : open!

a/n: sorry if there’s any grammatical errors—i’m tired as hell but cant sleep 😭 this one's been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute, figured i'd finally start it! (also... my first time writing anything remotely sexual, hope its not too bad)

sfw

⌗ ever since jackie's death and everything with her baby, shauna obviously hasn't been doing well. thats when you come along.

⌗ you'd been eyeing her for a while, even had a crush on her before the crash, you just never acted on it because you didn't think she'd ever be into you in a million years — she was jackie's, whether she'd admit that or not, and you respected that.

⌗ seeing how much she was hurting after jackie's passing, you took it upon yourself to try and cheer her up. you gave her little handmade gifts here and there, stuck by her side on everything, and just sat in silence with her when she needed company but didn't want to talk. you were fine with not talking, it seemed to be making her happy, and that's all you cared about.

⌗ at first, she didn’t understand what you saw in her. she was mean, aggressive, closed-off… everything you weren’t. but as the days went on, she realized you had no bad intentions and just genuinely liked her, and she stopped trying to push you away.

⌗ things seemed to be going okay for a while, but you couldn't help but notice the way she'd zone out while talking with you, or while you were talking at her, it was practically every conversation — whether she was bored, completely uninterested, or her mind on something/someone else, you didn't know, you just tried to brush it off.

⌗ once she finally let her walls down a bit with you, she started letting you sleep in her hut. she'd never say it out loud, but it helped having someone with her at night. a living, breathing body she could hold onto and seek comfort in. often times at night, when it was just the two of you in your hut, she would either hold you close or rest her head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as you ran your fingers through her hair.

⌗ on days she was more stressed than usual, the two of you would go into the woods and sit near the lake, taking comfort in each other's presence. that was all she needed — to simply be near you. her mind sometimes wandered to jackie, wishing she hadn't made the mistakes she did. if she hadn't made them, then maybe it would be jackie sitting next to her, not you.

nsfw

⌗ one day, shauna was in a particularly rough mood, so she seemed out the one thing that made her feel better. you. you were sitting in your now-shared hut, etching something into a piece of bark when shauna came in.

⌗ she looked pissed off, no doubt that it was about mari again, this has been a common occurence lately — practically part of your daily routine at this point — shauna would come in frustrated, expecting you to fix it, which you did every time. she'd give you her signature sad, brown eyes, practically pleading for you to make it all better.

⌗ you'd bring a hand up to cup her face, then she'd slam her lips onto yours. her hands would find your waist, slipping under your top as she kissed you hungrily.

⌗ some days she preferred to take control, others she just wanted to lay back and let you take care of her. this was one of those days. she laid back and panted softly as you pressed gentle kisses to her neck, your fingers making their way into her underwear. as your fingers finally got to work, she let out a low moan, and you swear you heard jackie's name fall from her lips.

"fuck, jackie..." the words were breathless, nearly silent, but you heard them. her hand made it's way into your hair, giving it a slight tug as your fingers plunged in and out of her dripping cunt. "yeah... just like that, baby." she praised softly. feeling her hips buck against your hand, you brought your thumb up to rub her clit, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

--

a/n again : ok hi i hope the last bit wasnt horrible. im beyond inexperienced. (tmi...?) so.

[silv3rswirls]

Fawn

warnings: 18+, age gap(reader is 18), coercion, corruption, praise, humiliation, dirty talk, hair pulling, gaslighting and manipulation, alcoholism, some religious themes/talk, virgin/innocent reader, dark thoughts/fantasies, very vague mentions of familial abuse, shamming, obsession, overall yoongi is a ✨creep✨

Note: sometimes I piss myself off because I've been dying over this fic for days and now I don't even like it much anymore- can I have nothing?😭idk might start writing more smut now??

You were a fawn in headlights when he first saw you in that clearing. Your back had been to him and at first, he had swore and scoffed at you because who hangs around in the woods disturbing his peace? Everyone in this town knew he lurked behind the tree line, drinking himself stupid and doing whatever fucked up activities they rumored him to. Yoongi never minded being the talk of the town. He’d been an outcast since his teenage years. Since he stopped going to church with his family like every other prim family populating the place. They took some fun teenage rebellion and ran with it- he liked to think himself not as messed up as people whispered he was. He’d always thought himself not to be until he met you.

He found you picking berries and flowers, anything that looked pretty out in the forest. You were kneeling trying to choose the perfect dandelion to add to your basket when he stormed over; pissed that someone was in his usual drink until he couldn’t move anymore spot. He liked it because it was a short walk from where he liked to stare at the Sunday churchgoers leaving and freak them out. He could recall seeing you before, always glued to your mother's side wherever you went.

But he stayed away and kept to himself like always. He couldn’t say he had many, if any, friends around here. He’d been on his own since graduating and his family moved away shortly after. He hadn’t been close to them at the time so being left alone was welcomed at first. As for everyone else; if someone didn’t fit in around here they were an outcast without much care and it seemed that no one cared for him.

“What are you doing?” He barked, scowling as he approached you. Bottles clinked in the bag he was loosely holding and his cigarette was at the end of its life. You stood up, stumbling back a bit in shock. Yoongi wasn’t a kind person, so you’d heard, and his appearance didn’t do anything to help. He was scowling, his hair was frazzled from rolling out of bed an hour or so ago. Dressed in darker colors, a sweater and thick coat layered in him. You wanted to laugh over how tired and grumpy he looked, but the nervous swirl in your stomach told you not to.

“I’m just picking flowers” You straightened up, knuckles white as you gripped the basket and your free hand smoothing down your skirt. 

“Well this is my spot” he rolled his eyes. He didn’t want to hear your stupid humming or see that ridiculous frilly dress you were in. Something about it pissed him off, he couldn’t place it exactly, but whatever it was would put a damper on his getting shitfaced in the woods plan for today. Besides, you had just come from Sunday service, he didn’t need any annoying pestering about drinking or sinning, or whatever he was sure you would pester him about.

Your eyes landed in his bag, before flicking up to him a bit wide. “Are you drinking out here?”

“So what if I am?”

He watches you look around, pressing your lips together for a moment. “Could I try?” His brows raised in surprise. interesting outcome of all of this he supposed? “It’s just, I’ve always wanted to.”

“I know your mom, she’s crazy, you know? Where is she?”

“Still at service, she helps plan the food drive” You smiled a bit proud, “It’s next week.”

Yoongi hummed. She was a nutjob, he’d lost track of how many times she’d harassed him in the past month alone. “So while she’s planning to feed the needy you want to drink?” You nodded and he looked around in disbelief. Was this a joke? Was someone going to jump out and condemn him for even entertaining this? 

“Here” he fished out a bottle and held it out to you. He watched you smile, a curious twinkle in your eyes as you carefully set your flowers down and took it. He waited for you to try, there wasn’t anything better to do anyway.

Your sudden shyness poked him the wrong way. He watched you bring it to your lips for a moment before lowering it with a new nervous expression. Second guessing your rebellion? “Come on” he urged, moving to grab your arm and pull you over to him. You stumbled, kicking over your flowers and stepping on them as he dragged you over.

“Hey-” you cringed, the bottle clinking against your teeth as Yoongi held you firm in place and forced the drink into your mouth. “I don’t like it” You managed to get out between the burn of liquor and sputtering as you tried to breathe. You broke away, yoongi dumping the rest of the bottle onto you; dripping it down your hair and face, and soaking your pink cardigan. “Why would you do that?” Your voice wobbled, and your eyes were wet as you looked at him.

“You said you wanted to try, stop being a baby about it.” He rolled his eyes. He watched the heat of embarrassment color your cheeks, big wet streaks stained your face and your hair clumped wet against your skin. “Get out of here now and don’t come back.” 

He watches you grab your things and scurry away, and in the distance, he can hear your mother scolding you from the parking lot. 

“Why does everyone hate Yoongi?”

The already tense air between you and your mother grew thicker on the ride home. She was angry over the smashed flowers you brought her for her centerpieces and even angrier over your now damp and smelly clothing. The fact that you had come running back to the car in tears, crying like a child over Yoongi.  

“Isn’t what he did to you answer enough sweetheart?” She sighed, “He’s never been right, even when he was your age.” She cringed, “Ever since his parents left he’s gotten worse. He’s a creep honey, stay away from him.”

“His parents left him?” You perked up slightly, basically ignoring everything else she said. “Why would they do that? That’s so sad.”

“If he was my child I’d leave him too” She scoffed, “don’t feel sorry for him, he’s everything I’ve ever warned you about. You don’t want to get tied up in all that mess right?” She asked. You didn’t answer.

The second time you ran into Yoongi was in the same stretch of woods. You had nervously ventured out there a few weeks after the last time, unsure if you wanted to run into him or not. Your mother was right about him being scary. You’d never interacted with anyone so harsh before, everyone your mother kept in your circle was kind and caring, just as you were. All women, no men really got close thanks to her. Other than being intrigued about being around him and all the things he did that everyone had drilled into your head were wrong; you felt a bit bad for the older man. You couldn’t imagine being all alone like he was or listening to all the awful things people said about him. He couldn’t be as evil as people wanted you to think, right?

Maybe he just needed a friend?

When he saw you again he smiled in welcoming. After spending a few weeks mulling over what happened and being publicly shouted at for ‘harassing her poor child’, Yoongi had decided he wanted to get closer to you. What better way to stick it to your mom than to mess around with you some more? You were naive enough not to catch on, so what was the harm?

You just talked for a few hours with him. He listened more than opened up. He listened to you talk about what you liked to do, where to find all the best flowers around here, about how you were nervous about the little recital the church was having next month for the Holidays, and how they wanted you to sing in it.

He watched you fiddle with the robbins decorating your hair. Watched you kick your legs back and forth off the rocks you were perched on beside him. Watched how your skirt scrunched and rode up just slightly every time you moved. 

He went home that night feeling a bit odd over the experience. You seemed genuinely glad to have someone new to talk to. He wasn’t sure how he felt, because you looked so cute sitting next to him chatting his ear off. 

He was fucked to put it lightly. You were everything he hated about the people in this town. Stupid and blindly following the herd…but with more of an innocence. All Yoongi knew was that he was down bad and frankly, a little pissed about it. How many whores had he had in the past and how many could he go out and find at this moment? Too many, maybe they were getting boring to him because right now all he could think about was you. He wanted to poke fun at and just piss everyone off at first, but now…now he just wanted corrupt you. Odd, he’d never felt the want to do it before to anyone, but something about you was sticking to him. How could he not with how cute and innocent you acted around him? Your fault really...hadn't your mother already warned you about men like him? He wanted to take you until the innocent air surrounding you was gone until all you could think about is him and how good he fucked your little virgin cunt. How cute you’d be under him. Covering your breasts and trying to hide away from his hungry eyes. Your cute little moans, moans you’d likely never made before. The feeling of you stretching around him for the first time. A little too much to handle, but you’re eager to please him. How wet you’d be, how it’d be such a challenge to bottom out, and how you’d squirm and try to resist the urge to be run over the edge as his hips pressed into yours. Your thighs twitch and try to close, too overwhelmed by the new sensations happening in your body. He’d leave you ruined; never to be the same again.

Yoongi blinked himself out of thought, he was sitting outside of his house having zoned out thinking about it all. 

Well, change of plans he supposed?

Two weeks later snow began to fall and hanging out with you had become routine. Admittedly, it wasn’t that bad. Other than an insatiable want to get you in his bed, he couldn’t say he hated every moment spent hanging around you. It was refreshing not to be by himself all day, he hadn’t had a real friend since early high school, and every day since had pretty much been spent alone. Stuck with a family that refused to speak to him until he admitted his sin and went back to church to grovel for forgiveness; he’d never do that even now. To his surprise you hardly talked about your family or religion; he had part expected you to try and drill it all into him. But you were pretty quiet and liked to laugh at all the ‘silly’ things he did as you liked to put it. You thought the way he slurred words when he was drunk was cute, but wouldn’t touch a drink from him after what happened, not unless he sweet-talked you enough. Sometimes it felt like he could sweet talk you into doing anything he wanted. Sometimes you’d let him put a shot glass to your lips and pour it down, wincing at the burn and getting watery-eyed. Yoongi wasn’t interested in bringing you anything gentle, he liked the hard stuff that could send him over the edge with a few drinks.

“Yoongi?” You asked one night. He was sitting beside you on the park bench, wrapped up in a plethora of jackets and hoodies trying to fight against the bitter air. Obviously, he couldn’t go to your place, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted you hanging around his yet. Truth be told he wasn’t sure if he could contain himself seeing you sitting in his bed just talking with that sweet tone of yours. Your eyes looking up at him, wide and fully focused on what he was doing or saying. You’d be wearing one of those silly frilled dresses you liked; he was sure of it. He’d thought about it so many times. How you’d let him get close and run a hand over your thigh, then over your stomach, to your chest. You’d let him kiss you, he knew you would. You liked doing what he said. You were so curious to partake in all the things he liked to do; all the things you weren’t supposed to do. One night he passed you a blunt without thinking much of it, you took it but nearly choked trying to smoke it for the first time. So you settled on letting him blow smoke in your face because he wanted to and you kept lying that you liked the smell of it.

“Yoongi?” You repeated, pulling him out of his daydream. He hummed, “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Go for it.” He’d lie if he didn’t want to answer, he lied to you a lot and you never seemed to pick up on it.

“Have you been in love before?”

“No.” He looked over at you again. You were playing with your hands in your lap, your nose was red from the cold and your hair was covered in snowflakes. He was still damp from earlier when you made him do a snow angel alongside you. “Why?”

“I don’t know “your face flushed, “I just wish I knew what it felt like. I’ve never been able to have a boyfriend” you explained, “Mom said I have to wait longer, I think she wants to find someone for me.”

“Well, that’s what good girls are supposed to do, right?” He asked, rolling his head back to look at the street light above and watching the snow flurries cluster around it. 

You were quiet for a moment, “I guess. I don’t know I’ve just been thinking alot lately, questioning some things.”

Yoongi nodded, he could remember when he started to as well. Hearing how everything in your circle talked about Yoongi didn’t sit right. Everyone should love everyone and get along, that is what you had thought everyone preached around you your whole life. Now they spoke about him like trash, ever since he poured the liquor on you. You hardly even cared much after the fact. It had been thrilling in your otherwise mundane life. Everyone thought you were staying clear of him, but you liked hanging out with him. Every evening when your mother left for work you ran to him. And every Sunday morning people still talked about what happened. How Yoongi shouldn’t be allowed to stay around here, how he was nasty and unholy, and how he'd do horrible things to you if you got close again. 

“You want a boyfriend?”

“My mom would kill me if she knew I did.”

Yoongi wet his lips and tugged your jacket until you looked at him. You were pouting, eyes cast down as you thought about it. “Well,” he started waiting for you to look up at him with your little doe eyes met his. “I could be your boyfriend” it rolled off his tongue, music to your ears. “No one will know, we’ll do all the things girlfriends and boyfriends do.” He waited for your reply, “unless you don’t like me?” He couldn’t remember the last time he spoke in such a tone: a soft and nearly whiny one. 

“No, I do!” You blurted out. “I want you to be my boyfriend, please Yoongi?”

He could listen to you say please all night.

“You’re not scared about breaking your mom's rules?” He egged in, “Not very good of you to lie.”

You scooted closer to him, grabbing his hand and pouting. “I-I don’t care about lying to her. Really! I’ve always wanted a boyfriend and I really like you, so why not?”

“Okay” he grinned, “I’ll be your boyfriend baby.” You grinned, genuinely excited. “We should make it official though, give me a kiss?”

You picked at the edges of your sleeves, “Y-yeah…but I’ve never…done that.”

Good, he thought. He wanted to be your first anything and everything. To teach you how to be a good girlfriend for him. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you. Just follow my lead.”

He grabbed your face, encouraging you to get even closer. Your legs pressed against his and he held your waist tight. He could see the shine of your strawberry lip gloss and the pink ribbon in your hair tickled his hand as he held your cheek. You were enthralled, gazing into his eyes like hearts were exploding behind you. He kissed you, trying to start slow and keep the cute boyfriend appearance up, but he was ready to get heated and messy with you. He did- kissed you harder, nibbled your lip, and pressed his tongue into your mouth. You were so meek under him, trying your best to keep up.

Your lipgloss was smeared- most of it left on Yoongi. You made it just-in-time before your mother got home. You scurried upstairs to change and pretend you’ve been in bed all night. You still felt breathless over the kisses. How he held you and how he asked you to be his girlfriend. You didn’t know how it was supposed to go, but you were sure he did it well. He had to. You hurried yourself under the covers. 

You had a boyfriend!

You kissed him!!

You smiled thinking about his hands holding you- how big they felt against your waist and his sting against your cheek. His lips were chapped and a bit cold against yours. He said he liked your lipgloss- the one you begged your mom to let you get just so you could wear it for him. 

“You’ve never touched yourself before?” You weren’t sure how the topic had been brought up, but Yoongi had just become far more interested in your video call after you let your secret slip out. You’d been lying around in bed talking to him for the past few hours. He was at home while you were stuck in bed for the night. Your mom was sick and hadn’t gone to work in a few days. You’d been missing Yoongi so he promised to call you.

“No…we’re not supposed to…my mom always tells me I shouldn’t it’s not pure and good.” You explained. Yoongi rolled his eyes, what a fanatic. 

“I used to think that, my family taught me the same things.” He started, “But I don’t agree. It’s normal, we’re all a little dirty sometimes, right bunny?”

You flushed, you liked it when he called you that. 

“I miss you, I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day. I wanna teach you more though, do you want to learn more next time?”

You nodded, slowly as you thought about his words. “You like when I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” you giggled. “Of course I do!”

Yoongi hummed, looking over the nightgown you were wearing. He liked kissing you well enough but he was starting to crave more. It’d been a while since he’d had sex, fantasizing about you while getting off was getting boring. He looked over your crossed legs, a bit upset it was long enough to cover your thighs- he liked them. It was, however, just snug enough to give him a subtle outline of your breasts, your nipples a bit hard grazing the fabric if you moved the right way. “Why’d you stop talking?” You pouted.

“You like my voice?” 

You nodded, “I really like it.”

“Wanna hear me call you pretty some more? How vain of you bunny. That’s a sin” he snickered, “does my voice turn you on?”

“I think so” You grew quieter, taking one headphone out and setting it aside to listen for your mother. 

“Is she still sleeping?”

“I think so.”

“You wanna do something for me, baby?” You nodded eagerly. “Touch yourself for me.” His tone was almost demanding, and needy as he shifted in his seat.

“But I’ve never…I’m not sure.”

“Come on,  try it for me?” Yoongi asked and very slowly you got off of your bed, leaving your phone propped against some pillows as instructed. Yoongi smirked, watching you look around your bedroom and to the door, double-checking the lock and listening for your mother. He was already feeling warm, mouth a bit dry as he looked you up and down. He couldn't help but to slip down his pants and tug at his cock in anticipation. The fact that you were so nervous, anxious that you’d get caught and reprimanded…that cute little nightgown you were wearing. “Just lift your nightgown” he wet his lips, watching you pick at the thin fabric and shyly lift it for him. “That’s it just a little, there you go” he encouraged, eyes glued to your panties. “Not so bad, right?” He smiled, and you let out a nervous, breathy giggle. “Turn around now” he watches you do as told, he hummed “bend over.” He watches you check your door again, a bit hesitant. “Don’t disappoint me now…good girl. Just…” Yoongi ogled over your ass, how the soft white fabric of your panties stretched over it, and how your legs pressed together now and again. “Just touch yourself for me” he finished. You did it for him, snaking a hand between your legs and clumsily playing with yourself. 

“Feels good?” He laughed at the little moans you let out now and again. “Don’t get shy, you’re so cute. Just show off for me baby.”

“You said you wanted to see it” Yoongi bit back a laugh. 

“I know, but…not here.” Your nose scrunched as you took another weary look around the alleyway. “Someone will see.”

“That’s what makes it fun” He grinned. He was feeling himself a little too much after a few drinks in his favorite bar. They wouldn’t ID him, and he knew they wouldn’t ID you. It was across town, too much of a trek for anyone who knew who you were to see. He’d gone through a few beers and some shots with you following him. You didn’t like the beer and refused a second shot, so he rolled his eyes and got you something smoother, fruitier. You were more content sipping on it, kicking your legs off the stool, and begging him to come to see you in the Holiday service on Sunday.

“You want me to come Sunday or not?”

“That’s not fair” you whined. Yoongi shrugged, leaning against the brick wall with his hips jutted out slightly. “Get on your knees for me bunny.” He watched you sink down, complaining when the slosh of rain and snow stained your stockings. ��I’ll by you new ones” He assured, watching your brow knit ever so slightly as you fiddled with his belt; loosening it and going for his jeans button. He could feel his throat getting dry, ever since that little show he talked you through a few days ago he had been plagued with thoughts of you nonstop. You pulled his jeans down a bit, looking up at him for reassurance before shyly going for the boxers. He was already hard, it didn't take much from you nowadays. His fingers twitched, he wanted ot grab your hair and go to town, but he tried to take in your wide eyes, cautious little touches, and overall curiosity of it all.

“I don’t know if I should be doing this” Your voice was small, torn as you looked up at him again with a frown. “It feels wrong, I don’t know.”

“It’s okay, it's normal. Lots of girls do it, don’t you want to make me feel good? I made you feel good the other night, it’s only fair.”

"I know you better than you think baby. I know those dirty little sides of you no one else does. You keep saying this is wrong and you shouldn't be doing it…but you’ve been saying for days how you want to please me. Now it’s time. Want me to help you?” He murmured. You nodded, a mix of excitement and nervousness in your stomach as you looked around one last time. He snaked a hand through your hair and guided you closer. His tip grazed your lips, pouty and slick from your lipgloss. Egairly you opened your mouth for him, trying to breathe through the new feeling and anxiety of having him in your mouth for the first time. 

Yoongi on the other hand felt like he could melt then and there. The feeling of your hot mouth against him sent tingles down his spine. “Just suck on it a little, grab the rest with your hand, and stroke it for me, baby.” your hand felt so small and cold against him, it made him shiver. He tugged your head a bit, he couldn’t help it. Your inexperience was too much for him. He loved the clumsiness, the little noise you made as you choked on him, how drool dripped down your chin and stained your blouse. “I know you can take it bunny, tell me if you can’t- fuck” he hissed, “you’re so good for me.”

He came in your mouth- he hadn't planned to but hadn’t been able to help it the moment you peered back up to him. Your face flushed, your eyes wide and teary, still looking at him in adoration. You pulled back, saying something about not liking the taste and wincing when more landed on your face. Yoongi was too immersed in trying to calm down to make some witty remark, he just took a moment to steady his breathing and look down at you. “Sorry,” he was quick to get his pants back up and get down to your level to help clean up. He sighed, watching you pick at your ruined stockings and skirt, “We’ll go to the mall tomorrow, and I’ll try to come to see you Sunday.”

He tried to seem indifferent to the way your face lit up, lunging to hug him. He smiled and took you home.

After taking you to the mall and replacing your clothes, Yoongi felt needier than usual for you. He was ready to take up, ready to steal that innocence away. 

“Stop pretending you don’t want to” Yoongi laughed. “Do you like it?” Yoongi grinned. You squirmed in his lap. He could tell you were trying not to like it, your brow scrunched slightly. When he grabbed your face and made you look at him he could see the concern clouded with lust in your eyes. “I know you like it, stop lying to yourself” He had taken you home for the first time, wasting little time before pulling you to the bedroom for a makeout. 

“I do” you whimper, “but…I’m not supposed to do stuff like this” You frowned, “Not until I get married and-”

“We’re not having sex though, we’re just playing a little, right?” He asked, grabbing your hips tighter, pressing his bulge against you. Your skirt rode up more, your knees pressed into the sofa as he guided you to grind against him. You were starting to get a little bold when you were with him, it was hard not to when he was constantly grabbing at you and saying all the right things to get you worked up. He was ready to take this to the next level- ready to fuck you.

“Come on, fuck yourself against me, baby, you’re already soaked and I’ve barely touched you.” He slipped back into his mindset fast. Your hips moved with his, he could feel the wet spot staining his jeans as you moaned and squeaked in surprise every time he pulled you hard against him. “Want me to fuck you? Seems like it, want me to ruin your insides?” He was into it, into how good your clothed cunt felt against his jeans and hard-on, how red your face was getting and the little beads of nervous sweat forming on your forehead. How your fingers clasped his shirt and nails pinched his skin, how into you seemed to be getting.

“I shouldn’t, but it feels so good” You cried, while Yoongi nearly came at your breathly little whines. 

“it's okay to be dirty like this, it makes you feel good, right? makes you want to cum like a good girl for me?” Yoongi went on, “Or we can stop, you can just pretend we didn’t do anything and go home, is that what you want?” “No” you cried, “It feels good. I wanna cum.” You shyly spoke, quickening your pace as he rutted against you.

“You gonna let me fuck you now?” He had been half serious when he said it, still content with sucking on and leaving hickeys on your shoulder. When you say yes? He felt like his brain short-circuited, he had you on your back in an instant; staring down at you like a hungry animal. Your shirt was unbuttoned, chest flushed and marked up from the groping. You were looking at him through lidded eyes, your legs still pressed together in anticipation as he moved in. 

“Fuck this is so wrong, isn’t it bunny?” Yoongi let out a shaky exhale, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long, god you feel so good.” You were flushed under him, biting back moans and trying to take the pain of the first stretch like a good girl, like you knew he wanted you to. “I’m trying to go slow baby, but fuck…You’ll forgive me if I can’t, right?” He leaned closer to you, peppering kisses over your neck and sucking dark marks on your skin. “Please forgive me, baby, I’m gonna ruin you.” He murmured. He knew you’d never hate him, he knew you’d forgive him for anything he did to you.

taglist: @aft3rhrs

[scaredybunny]

Overly affectionate daddies are more my flavour, but there is something insanely hot about strict and emotionally distant dads.

Like how some parents make their kids pay rent, well, you're too young to get a job, so you're going to help out your father in another way.

"As far as I'm concerned, as long as you live under my roof, I own you. You're in debt to me for every meal you've had. For now, you can pay that off by being a good boy and sucking my cock."

You're too scared of him to put up much of any resistance. So every day, sometimes multiple times a day, he tells you to kneel and open your mouth, and you obey. Most of the time, it's after he comes back from work, he's dead tired, and all he wants is to watch the game and unload into his son's mouth. This is your least-hated method of 'paying your debt'. He's usually not as active or aggressive, he doesn't often try to deepthoat you, or even really rutt into our face. Of course, this means you have to do more work, but that's not so bad, all things considered. He'll usually complement you afterward, "good boy" or "god, your lips are so soft." Once in a while, he'll even want to cuddle afterward. You know, theoretically, you should hate him touching you, but he's so rarely affectionate that when you curl up under his arm and lean on his chest, you can convince yourself you have a normal relationship.

However, sometimes your father wakes up horny, then you have so suck him off before school. This experience is usually a lot faster, but it is always more aggressive. You learn to not eat breakfast until you know if your dad wants to fuck your throat or not, as otherwise you will be cleaning that breakfast off the kitchen floor, and then both your dad and your mum are pissed at you. Oh, yeah, your mum is fine with this whole arrangement. She prefers your siblings and seems to enjoy having some more spare time now that your father is pumping your mouth full of cum instead of her's. So, about once a week, the breakfast table will be occupied by your mum, your younger and older siblings, all trying to ignore the gluck gluck gluck of your dad getting rid of his morning wood. This also often results in you missing the train to school, and your dad needing to drive you. He only volunteers to do this so he can get another round out of you in a nearby alley. "If you had sucked me off properly the first time, I would have came quick. Now you're making both of us late."

The worst is the weekend. Not restricted by fatigue or time, your dad gets creative. At first, he would just lie you on your stomach, face off the edge of your bed. He your hold your hands behind your back with one hand and spank your ass with the other. All while slowly thrusting into your throat. In recent months, he's gotten into bondage, costumes, and most alarming to you: reciprocation. The bondage is not too different from your usual sessions, not like you were going to fight him off anyway. The costumes a a bit humiliating, his favorite seems to be an adult woman's sexy easter bunny Halloween costume, it doesn't really fit. "You'll grow into it." Maybe partly, but the cups in the babydoll dress will remain empty. You had been on puberty blockers and testosterone for a few years; he knew this. He paid for it. Once you asked him if he wanted you to be a girl. All the feminine outfits, it's an understandable conclusion to come to. He slapped you and told you not to insult him like that. He was pretty riled up. After he had cum he said that he likes a skirt to flip up, pretty pink undies and garters. It didn't matter that a boy was wearing them. That was what "got him going". When you asked about the bunny costume, specifically, he said, "I like the ears." he was lying. You both knew that. Bunny had been your nickname when you were small, well, smaller. You don't really remember how it started, something about you jumping a lot after learning to walk. You had been suspecting this for a while, but for some reason, this is what confirmed it for you. You weren't just 'any port in a storm'. Some obedient but completely interchangeable hole for your dad to unload in. He wanted you specifically. Maybe for a long time.

Once he had you lying on your back, in the bunny costume. He fliped up the dress and spanked your pussy a few times, before noticing the wet patch on your pink undies. Humiliation burned in you as he laughed. "Looks like I'm not the only one enjoying this, you filthy little tart!" Then, to your horror, he started rubbing you. Rubbing and fingering and slapping your little boy pussy. Eventually, he was 69ing you. You had your first orgasm with your dad's cock stuffed in your mouth. The one benefit of the weekend was that your dad was more often affectionate afterwards. This was the only reason he answered your questions so candidly. Mostly, you just cuddled. Before you had this arrangement, you couldn't remember the last time your dad hugged you. Now he was holding you, stroking your hair, saying how good you were, "Such an obedient son." This is what stopped you from running away. You could endure the humiliation and filth. If your dad kept calling you "My good boy."

This was meant to be a short post lol. Guess inspiration struck lol.