#when I ask of you to please help find a middle ground

[catcatb0y]

Is it so bad?

[postmortemnivis]

no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.

simon really meant it, every bit of it, he’d come back to you somehow. he would find his way back to you. wether it was walking through the front door quietly not to wake you up in the middle of the night or cold in a coffin. he’d rather have you hold his dead body than not to have you touch his skin ever again.

that’s what simon was thinking about as his ear ringed so loud he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. he looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didn’t feel right. why so blue when so much blood was being shed?

he occasionally would feel the ground he was laying on tremble, maybe a hand grenade, maybe a body falling next to his. the smell of gunpowder filled his covered nostrils and he could feel his lungs collapsing on themselves from the thickness of the air he was breathing. his eyes weren’t doing good either, filled with dust and sand from the dry earth.

it took him a few more seconds to focus his eyes on something, something that possibly wasn’t moving, his head spinning each time he tried to sit up. something was weighting on his legs, holding him down. he struggled to raise his torso and groaned at the sight of a large body blocking him. he let himself fall back down.

he was ready to go, a sharp pain to his side telling him he wouldn’t last long alone. he’d been through worse, way worse, the scar provided by the meat hook was proof of that, but something was telling him this was as bad. he was ready to go.

the only thing he could think about in his last moments was you. he thought he could see glimpses of you, maybe your hair in the corner of his eyes or he’d hear your laugh as another fire shooting started. his eyes searched for you frantically. he wanted to tell you to leave immediately, scream it at the top of his lungs, but his voice was caught in his throat and you weren’t really there. his mind just playing cruel tricks on him.

your name was repeated like a mantra in his head, repeating it so many times it almost lost a meaning. almost. a prayer, a chant. he sure needed to pray, for you.

he had been shelving the thought that tormented him for months. he wanted to go and confess his sins, he almost felt the need, his palms itching with haste anytime he thought about it. years had passed since the last time he had set foot in a church, so many that he had almost forgotten the reason for the visit. the ghosts of the past never abandon you, especially if they are people you love, especially if they are family, the innocent. its always the innocent who pay the highest price.

‘i wonder what she’s doing now, who’s gonna knock on her door and tell her im gone.’ he thought. ‘hopefully price. he’s the one with tact and the most considerate. he’ll help her when i’m gone, keep an eye on her.’

the sweet smell of your hair replaced for a moment the one of blood and gunpowder, your laughter still echoing in his ears. he pictured your sweet face and big innocent eyes looking up at him.

“promise me something?”

“mhm?” he hummed, surprised you were still up. his hand hadn’t stopped caressing your hair since you laid down on his chest, your hand resting on his collarbone as your ear listened to his calm heartbeat. “yeah, anything.”

“promise me you’ll always come back.” you whispered in the dark room. “promise me, simon.”

he nodded, taken aback by your request. you weren’t the fondest of his job, he knew it, he hated to concern you like he did.

“yes.”

“promise.” you urged. “please.”

he bent his head down and kissed the top of yours, his arm sliding down your back and drawing you closer by your waist. “i will, love. i’ll always come back to you.”

you sighed, the knot of thoughts in your worried head began to untie. “mh.”

“better now?” he softly asked. his voice was hoarse from his constant shouting orders at the obstreperous recruits. you gave a short nod. “i mean it.”

he groaned as he managed to get the body off of himself, struggling to get on his knees.

fucks sake, he couldn’t let you live with him gone like this. it was selfish of him to leave you in such an abrupt way, really. he tried to push away the image of you opening the door to find price with a carton box filled with simons stuff from the barracks with the balaclava and skull mask on top and your knees hitting the floor before he could even say anything.

his legs didn’t feel like they could hold his weight up, he immediately fell to his knees as he heard another rapid fire too near him for his liking. his gun was long gone, he had to manage to survive alone, again.

“crawlin’ it is.” he breathed as he started to drag his tired body with the strength of his arms alone. you had always praised his strength: he could lift you with one arm alone, you loved to be held and hold on to his arm anywhere and at anytime. that was the main reason he always pushed for more while training, and the motivation your sweet compliments always gave him now were gonna save his life. he made a mental note to kiss and hold you a little longer and tighter if he ever made it home alive.

he could see the building his team was supposed to meet up in case things got bad. it looked so far away that it was alarmingly close. maybe it was just his messed up vision, a mirage, but he could swear he saw you from a window looking at him, urgently motioning him to come.

he brought the thick balaclava above his nose so he could breathe better and as enemy gunfire continued to flow, he kept his head low as he moved dead bodies from his way.

he could hear your voice calling for him and he wanted to call you for you back, but the noises of the battlefield were hurrying him to get to the safe zone first.

he stumbled by the door as he brought himself up, one hand stabilizing him as he held on to the doorframe as the other went to press on his wound.

“lt!” johnnys voice called before he rushed to help him. “ye cheeky bastard, i told them not to leave yet, to wait for ye.”

“gaz saw you get shot.” price swung simon’s arm over his shoulder in order to help him to the nearest table, where he laid down.

“he saw that right.” simon bit the inside of his cheek as price inspected his wound, pressing on it. “is he a‘ight?”

“he’s fine, hit his head but had his helmet on, he’s getting checked out by the medics.” price informed him as simon winced at the sharp pain. “there’s at least two bullets in here, didn’t pass through, stuck.”

“just take ‘em the fuck out.” simon groaned. “how’s it lookin’?”

“you’ll live.” price patted his shoulder in comfort before he went to call a medic.

“we really thought we’d lost ye there, lt.” johnny’s face was glowing with sweat and blood, the black war paint smudged messily all around his face and his mohawk dusted.

“helicopter’s leaving in thirty, boys!” price’s baritone voice called from the other room.

simon scoffed, sighing and closing his eyes, finally letting himself relax as your figure started to fade from the corner of the room where it’d been standing, silently looking at him. “won’t lose me, can’t wait to go home, johnny.”

[azullumi]

“his habits during it” ; genshin men

warning — nsfw content ahead but nothing that graphic or explicit (seriously i tried my best to not even mention the word sex and the genitals)

summary — there’s one thing he loves to do whenever the two of you get in bed together.

characters — diluc, kazuha, ayato, kaveh, alhaitham, tighnari, cyno, zhongli, and wanderer (w/gender-neutral reader) ; no specified anatomy nor even mentioned parts

tags — kind of fluff, nsfw, not proof-read (wrote this while i was irritated and needed something to pour my attention to) ; headcanons

words — 1265

note — hey siri, how do you say they’re fucking without saying they’re fucking

handholding

DILUC — (i have already said this before) diluc likes, no, he loves the intimacy the simple act of holding one’s hand has even when two of you are just walking together side by side or when his skin is pressed against yours, lips colliding against one another, and he’s whispering words of affection to your ears—a mere distraction and a sense of comfort, grounding you and keeping you with him. it’s just that effortless gesture of intertwining his hand with yours, locking fingers, as he indulges in the way you feel around him. he squeezes your hand in the middle of it all and oh, how he melts so much when you also squeeze his own in return. he could never tell you how much you make him so soft and weak with just the slightest hold.

eye contact

KAZUHA — “don’t look away now,” he coos at you, seeing how you shy yourself and avert your gaze away from him which he obviously didn’t like. he likes seeing you coming undone while you try to remain eye contact with him—it pleases him seeing your features contort into into what you are currently feeling—, likes teasing you every time you try to look away from him and hide your expression, likes saying such remarks that gets you embarrassed most times just so he could see and watch the change of your expressions every single time. he just loves looking at you, adoring you with his eyes, especially more so when you also do the same and keep contact, gaze nailed on each other.

praises and talking dirty

AYATO — he’s a talker, both outside the matters in the bedroom and inside the sheets, so it’s no wonder that he always shower you with praises in every chance that he gets even if you’re not in the right mind to respond or even comprehend what he’s saying. he conveys most of his affections through the words that falls out of his lips, finding it so easy to say such things and teasing you with it, he can’t help it, can he? how could he not when you look so pretty—not only outside the bedroom—or beautiful, or handsome, or lovely, or anything that he could think of right at that moment when he sees you naked? Even if he had held and seen you with nothing to cover your skin so many times, he still gets mesmerized by the sight of you like it was his first time.

playing with your hair

KAVEH — he plays with it, he tugs on it, pulls on it, and everything. and though it gives him some sense of control especially when he pulls on it, it also grounds him and helps him realize the affection and love being shared between you two in this intimate moment. sometimes he only dances his fingers on your head, treating you softly and tenderly with the delicate hold of his hand on your hair, which could often provide a huge contrast to what he’s actually doing, the rough treatment he’s giving you which makes you roll your eyes and see spots in your vision. “you look so pretty like this, my love,” he would say before tugging your hair back to take a good look at your face or to tilt your head in a way that gives him more access to your neck.

lots of kisses

TIGHNARI — gently laying you down the bed? kisses you while doing so. sliding your clothes off your body? presses his lips against yours before trailing down, tracing your jaw, his mouth making its way down your neck, and resting on your collarbone. asking you consent? he kisses you before he speaks. he presses gentle kisses of adoration all over you as he pushes himself into you, your bodies becoming one in the process, providing comfort and easing you as he could feel your nails digging deep into his skin and possibly, leaving marks and wounds but he didn’t mind. his fondness and desire murmuring into you, helping you breath and regain yourself. it was clear that his way of affection was simply just kissing you.

giving orders

CYNO — he doesn’t always take the dominant position but perhaps it was the sense of authority, the power whenever he does it. he has the habit of giving orders and commands whenever you two are spending a passionate moment and seeing you willing to follow him ignites something in him—however, if you disobey him, then that’s a different matter altogether (it’s not like he hates it however. deep in him, he likes it as it gives him the pass to do more things but with your consent, of course). you’re so vulnerable, so obedient to him and it fuels his excitement further when you follow what he says. it makes him wonder, a question pondering his head, how could he have someone like you, someone as lovely and sweet as you, so good to him?

restriction / holding your hands together

ZHONGLI — no, it is not the act of locking your fingers with his as he pushes himself into you just like diluc, this one is completely different. he has big hands, we all know that zhongli’s hands are big and one of it just enough to bind both of your wrists together—he is well-aware of that fact and abuses it. he likes seeing you struggle, tugging your hand against his but his hold wouldn’t budge, at all. although zhongli hasn't explicitly told or mentioned it, he absolutely loves the way you look so helpless and weak whenever he holds your hands together, whenever he restricts your movement. oftentimes, he would have a silk ribbon—it has to be a silk ribbon—tying you up just so he could rest his hands on your hips and hold you.

hands always touching and roaming around your body

ALHAITHAM — he just loves to feel you, in general. he loves the softness of your skin underneath the tip of his fingers as he glides his hand all across your body, the warmth of you seething into his touch and being buried in his bones, and he is obsessed on the way he could feel the sweet trembles of your body underneath his hand, could sense the small shiver when he finally touches you, and he adores it and he doesn’t hesitate in conveying his affections to you, often accompanying his caresses with his words of praises and compliments. perhaps it overwhelms you, not knowing where to focus yourself on, and he loves seeing you in such a state, pushing you more and more further to the edge with his hands and mouth alone.

biting and leaving marks

WANDERER — the line between pain and pleasure soon blurs into one as he bites into you while, and one could say it serves as a distraction but it isn’t, it’s not even close to being a distraction, it’s simply something that adds to the stimulation that you are feeling, overwhelming and effectively bringing you into some sort of space. he takes joy in the sounds that you make once he buries his neck on the curve of your neck, hard but not hard enough to draw blood; he takes pride in seeing the bruises and marks that he left on you, looking at you like you were a work of art carved and sculpted into something more than perfection with his own hands.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[pupkashi]

“satoru put me down!”

“cmon sweetheart you know I’d never drop you,” he grins, effortlessly walking to the middle of the living room with you in his arms, “hold on tight ‘kay?” he smiles, watching as your eyes grow wide.

“wh-” you’re cut off by your own shriek as the wind around you whooshes, and you feel like you’re free falling for a second before you open your eyes again.

“whoa!” satoru cries, letting go of you for only a moment, enough to make your grip around him tighten and your eyes to screw shut again, “kidding!” he giggles, holding you tighter to his chest and placing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“i thought i was gonna die!” you cry out, wiggling out of his grip and finally standing on solid ground, a new found gratitude for the floor as you cross your arms over your chest. “I am never doing that again,” you mumble.

satoru pouts at you, groaning a bit as he pulls you into his chest. “cmon baby it wasn’t so bad! you got to be carried by me the whole time!” the cocky grin on his face turns into a sheepish one when you smack his chest repeatedly. “and no traffic!”

“you almost dropped me!” you fight back, trying your best to not smile at the white haired sorcerer, “i saw my life flash before my eyes” you frown.

“technically i only pretended to drop you,” he corrects, but the look in your eyes has him standing up a bit straighter, “not that it matters, i should have never done that and i should definitely repent for my wrong doings.”

he hangs his head low, as he lets out a sigh, “please find it in your kind, beautiful heart to forgive me, my love.” you can’t help as the smile breaks onto your face, shoving him slightly. satoru is quick to lift his head, a charming smile on his lips as he looking at you through the bangs tickling his eyes.

“i guess i can forgive you,” you sigh dramatically, “just this once, next time you’re done for.” satoru nods happily, pulling you into his arms and kissing your face.

just as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek, he’s moving to your ear, his breath sending a chill down your spine as he speaks up. “just for the record, I’d never let you get hurt.”

your mind is a bit hazy as he straightens out, mumbling something about there being a better view across town. you’re only snapped out of your daze when you feel his arms lifting you up, eyes wide as you realize what’s happening.

“gojo don’t you-!” the air is whooshing around you once more, and the familiar drop of your stomach has you shrieking and gripping onto your lover tighter than before.

“calling me gojo now?” he pouts, giggling when you smack him and force him to put you down. “look,” he points, watching as you turn around, mouth agape as you take in the view ahead.

you could see the whole skyline from where you stood, the sunset painting the city in hues of red, oranges and yellows. “okay, maybe it’s a little worth it,” you whisper, giggling as satoru pulls you into his chest. “it’s so pretty up here.”

satoru doesn’t take his eyes off you as he hums in agreement, “beautiful,” he replies, a smile growing on his face as you shove him.

he doesn’t care, giggling uncontrollably when he sweeps you off your feet again, laughing when you shriek as he pretends to lose grip again, apologizing in kisses and setting you down.

masterlist

a/n: hi hi just another sweet little something while i finish writing this paper due tonight </3 i hope u guys liked it :3

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[luveline]

i love the kbd universe so so much! could you please do one where sweet little bethie (☹️) has been getting a hard time from other kids at school/nursery for being ‘weird’/‘different’ and how steve and reader would handle it?? sorry if that’s too specific my lovely! hope you’re having a good day!! 🫶

thank you!! kbd au —steve employs your help when your daughter needs a pep talk. 1.5k

“Why’s my girl so sad?” 

“I’m not sad.” 

Steve raises his brows at Beth. She looks especially like you when she’s down. It’s sort of sad, thinking about it, how her lips turn like yours would, how she won’t meet his gaze or hold his hand when he tries to intertwine their fingers. 

“Aw, honey, don’t tell me tall tales,” he says, no actual scolding in his tone. He sees the shimmer of tears aligned on her bottom lashes and can’t abide her fibs anymore, scooping her off of the couch and into his arms. “Bethieeeee,” he whines, “tell me what’s wrong! You know I hate not knowing everything about you.” 

“Dad,” she says, letting her head loll in the curve of his neck, “nothing is wrong.” 

Liar, he thinks. From the kitchen he can hear you and Dove and baby Wren singing. Avery potters around in the downstairs bathroom, humming. Steve knows Beth is sad, because Beth is quiet, but she still has as much energy as the rest of her sisters when she’s home. She isn’t introverted when she’s with him, or her mother, and especially not the best big sister in the world. 

“Okay,” he says. He should poke and prod. Instead, he lifts her up as high as he can, which, not to brag, is quite high. “Hi up there. How’s the weather?” 

She jabs him in the chest with her foot. “It’s windy.” 

Steve laughs like an idiot and brings her down for some adoring kisses. “Super windy. Babe, you get funnier and funnier everyday.”

She wraps her arms behind his head. “Thank you.” 

“Ooh, you’re welcome. Should we go and sing some songs with mommy?” 

Beth shakes her head. “No.” 

“No?” 

“No.” She sounds like a baby. 

Steve sits down with an arm behind her back. He’d quite like a bit of peace and quiet. He doesn’t mind if she needs some too. “Then let’s stay right here, bub, jus’ me and you.” 

Dustin once said that Steve was about as much use as a paper cup in a hurricane when it came to comforting people, but that was nearly a decade ago, and it was before he met you. You rushed into Steve’s life (by accident on both sides) and showed him how it felt to be properly looked after for the first time ever. He can’t forget how that felt. Robin loves him but she couldn’t love him like that, couldn’t kiss a bruise and fix it whole, couldn’t ease a migraine with her fingers in his hair. You touch Steve’s arm and he can lift a ten tonner. 

He’s more equipped than ever to comfort someone now. He had a good teacher. 

“You have a long day today, huh?” he asks. 

“Not much.” 

He smiles. “Not much long?” he asks. 

“Dad,” she grumbles. “You know what I mean.” 

“I do… so you didn’t find it too long?” 

“I guess.” Beth touches under his chin. “You have sharpies.” 

“My stubble? Should I shave tonight?” 

“Yes,” she says emphatically. “Don’t like scratchy kisses.” 

“Oh, so you wanted more kisses?” he asks. “Would that help you feel better? How about we meet in the middle and get mom to kiss you? She’s not so sharp.” 

She sighs, her nose shoved into his collar. “Dad, can you rub my back?” 

Steve rubs her back immediately. She makes no other request, lips firmly shut and secret upset sealed away, feeling at his stubble with gentle fingers. She loves foreign sensations like this. It’s why she likes having her back rubbed, Steve theories; the pressure of his hand on her spine is dragging, and grounding. 

He shifts against the grain of a cushion behind his back. 

“I want to tell you,” Bethie says finally. 

“I always want to listen,” he promises. 

She doesn’t sound teary, more uncomfortable as she finally forces it out, “Nobody at school likes me.” 

“Babe, that’s not true at all.” 

“It is true. They all think I’m weird.” 

“I bet they don’t, babe.” 

“Dad, they all say it.” 

Steve bites his cheek as his mouth snaps shut. “Well,” he says quietly, cupping the side of her face, encouraging her head back to meet her eyes. They’re big in her little face, pupils like pearls, “that’s not very nice.” 

“It’s true.” 

“Not true.” 

“It is true,” she says angrily. 

“It’s not true, Beth, you’re not weird, and if you are weird then I’m weird, and that’s not a bad thing after all. Is it?” 

Internally, it breaks his heart. Beth has been different than the other kids for a long time and in lots of ways. She’s picky, peculiar. She eats things in her own fashion, and has interests outside of her peers. Steve didn’t know she was ‘abnormal’ until people started telling him —she’s his second baby. He didn’t think they were all the same, and so didn’t question her differences, and still doesn’t care to beyond wondering what he can do to make her happy. Who cares if Beth eats two bites of sandwich for every celery stick? 

The other kids. Some parents. 

“I don’t want to be weird,” she says, hanging her head. 

You arrive like a well-timed miracle, shimmying past the half open door with a smile. “Hi, guys. I want you to come and do karaoke, what do you think? I’m making everybody mocktails! We’re having pineapple juice and–” You lean back, hand on your hip, a slip of your stomach peaking out of your tank top, total picture of a cool mom as you cross your naked arms over your stomach. “Oh, no. What’s wrong?” you ask teasingly. 

Steve squeezes Beth to his neck. “Hey, none of your business!” 

“No, tell me,” you say, crossing the room to sit beside them on the couch. 

“You wanna tell her?” Steve asks. 

Beth shakes her head. “Didn’t want to tell you, dad.” 

“You did, lovely,” he says, all sympathy as you cuddle up to Steve’s side and wrap an arm around them both. “You said you wanted to tell me. It’s okay if you don’t want to tell us again, though. Mommy just wants to make you feel better, right?” 

“Right,” you say. When you smile at her, it’s with all the love in the world. 

She’s quicker to cry in her mother’s lap. She wiggles closer to your shoulder, her voice fraught as she confesses, “Everybody at school says I’m weird,” and erupts into breathless sobbing, like she’s terrified of the idea. 

Your eyes wrinkle as you close them tight, frowning into the top of her head. “Oh, my poor girl. My baby. Please don’t cry, because that’s not true. You’re not weird.” 

“Everybody says I am!” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, pushing Steve away accidentally as you wrap her into a proper hug. “Who says that?” 

“Mom, it’s everyone. Even my friends.” 

Kids can be so mean, when they aren’t trying and when they are. You mumble sweet placatives, fingers running up and down the length of Beth’s shuddering back. She cries like she’s hurting. Steve’s reminded of the time she fell down the stairs and hit her face on the baby gate, she was shocked but more urgently in pain, and she couldn’t work out why she’d fallen. 

“That’s not nice, Beth,” you’re saying, “I’m so sorry they’re saying mean things about you, but you’re not weird, I don’t know why they’d say something like that. They’re just not as nice as my girl.” 

“I’m different,“ she says. 

“That’s not a bad thing, Beth. You’re perfect. I wouldn’t want you any other way, and neither would your dad.”

Steve jumps in. “Right! We like you like this, babe. I don’t want you to change, I don’t care what all the meanies at school say, me and mom think you’re awesome. Avery and Dove and Wren all think you’re the best sister and best friend ever. Avery’s your best friend. Has she ever called you weird?” 

The baby talk is sinking in. If you used your bubbly voices on Avery it might not work anymore, but Beth is just about young enough for it to take. “No… You really think I’m not weird?” Beth asks sadly. 

No kid wants to think they’re weird, even if they are, and even if that’s okay. 

You sink down into your seat, taking Beth with you. Steve has to fight to cuddle you both. “I know you’re not,” you say. 

For a good five minutes, you just hug her. Steve ends up laying his cheek against your temple, hand on Beth’s back so she knows he’s there. When the baby starts babbling loudly for you to come back, Steve takes the short straw and leaves you both for cuddling. 

“What’s up, dad?” Avery asks, standing on a chair by the baby’s high chair, feeding her youngest sister cut up strawberries on a spoon. Dove eats her own strawberries with sliced bananas and peanut butter, the evidence of the latter staining her blue t-shirt.

Steve pats the top of Avery’s head. “Nothing much, baby. I’ve come to make you your mocktail.” 

“Oh, yes! With sugar? Bethie loves the sugar.” 

She doesn’t know how glad he is that she’s Beth’s big sister. “With the sugar.” 

[babyleostuff]

SUPER DRIVE

・❥・ for the 2k followers event

summary: the one where your boyfriend tries teaching you one of their choreographies, but you end up in the hospital

pairing: idol!hoshi x fem!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship | word count: 2k

warnings | a couple of swear words, and one suggestive joke

“Are you trying to get me killed?” 

Having a boyfriend who was a dancer was a dream and a nightmare at once. You loved watching him on stage and in practice, how he changed into a whole different person when he worked on a new choreography, working his ass off until dusk - you felt so proud whenever he ran straight to you at the backstage after they won an award.

But right now you wanted to curse him more than ever. This wasn’t the first time Hoshi tried to teach you one of their choreographies, but it had to be the first time that he wanted you to fall face flat into the ground. 

“How am I even supposed to move my foot like that?” You looked at his reflection in the mirror, horrified. “Oh come on, it’s not that hard, you just have to,” and then proceeded to make the most confusing moves known to humankind.

Your boyfriend was an excellent teacher, that was not up for debate, but it seemed that he forgot you weren’t a dancer - you struggled with learning the choreo for Darling, and now he wanted you to dance to Super like it was Macarena. 

“Baby, slow down, please,” you whined, pulling at his arms to stop him from moving. “I know you’re this cool super star dancer and shit, but I don’t know if you’ve noticed, I’m not,” you pointed to yourself, looking at him with a serious expression.

He laughed, pulling you to a sweaty embrace, his arms tightly wrapped around your shoulders. “I’m sorry, I’ll go a bit slower ‘kay?” He looked down at you with a smile and you rolled your eyes, because you knew it wouldn’t help much. “What are you smirking at Kwon Soonyoung?” 

“Nothing,” he murmured, running his knuckle across your cheek. “Very funny,” you snorted, pushing him away, though he didn’t move much. Damn you muscles. “Keep joking like that, and you won’t get dinner for the next month.” 

“I could live without that,” he smiled, turning back to the mirror. 

“Okay then, I won’t suck yo-,” 

“Okay, okay, I get it. Let’s get back to dancing.” 

You smirked watching how his ears turned slightly red, as he tried to concentrate on the choreo. 

The sun had long set when you finally got the first steps and could easily dance the chorus of the song, which earned you a total of fifteen kisses from Soonyoung messily placed all across your face. “I told you you could do it,” he couldn’t stop smiling as he watched you dance more comfortably now.

Soonyoung loved dancing as much as he loved you - he breathed and lived for performing, and he never thought he’d find someone who’d be as supportive as you were. Even if you had to come to the studio in the middle of the night because he was having a mental breakdown - you never complained, you were there for him through thick and thin, and he’d never be able to thank you enough for that. 

You were his comfort place, his safe haven, and Sooyoung would do anything to make you happy in return. 

But almost killing you - that wasn't on his list.  

“Okay, babe, let’s teach you the next part.” 

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. You weren't sure if it was because you had been dancing for the past couple of hours, or if it was just because you were hungry, but you felt your vision blur a bit. But that didn’t matter - your boyfriend looked over the moon as he showed you the next steps, trying to take it as slow as he could so you could match his pace. 

Besides, you were sure you'd get better in a second.

“Did you get it?” Soonyoung turned around, his sweaty black bangs sticking to his forehead. If you weren’t feeling so bad you’d run your hand through his hair, pushing them back from his eyes. He always scrunched his eyes adorably whenever you did that. “Baby, you okay?” your boyfriend asked, this time more concerned.  

“Of course, don’t worry,” you tried to sound as convincing as possible. You didn’t want to cut your date short just because you were feeling a bit off. With their tight schedule and overseas trips you weren’t sure when would be the next time you’d get so much time for yourselves, and if you told him you weren’t feeling good, he’d immediately make you go home. “I just had to take a short break,” you smiled. 

Although Hoshi didn’t seem that convinced, looking a bit sceptical back at you, he resumed his explanation on the choreo as you tried to follow along. A couple of minutes passed and you actually started to feel a bit better, you even went back to bickering with him, as he laughed at you failing miserably at a certain step. 

“Next time,” you said, gasping for air. “We’re going to have a cooking date, and then we’ll see who’ll be the one laughing, you moron.” 

“Hey! You didn’t have to agree to this,” your boyfriend whined, looking at you with the biggest boba ball eyes. “I’m just kidding, baby, you know I love dancing with you. I just didn’t realise how extreme this choreo is.” 

“Let’s just finish up this part, and go home, yeah?” 

You nodded, as Soonyoung placed a kiss on your forehead, caressing the back of your head. “You’re doing such a good job, baby. No matter how much I laugh at you, you’re fucking amazing,” you scrunched your nose at his corniness, as he pecked your forehead again. 

And that’s when the blurriness came back. With nausea this time. 

Now you were sure you needed to eat something or else you’d collapse, but that would mean you’d have to leave the studio because neither of you thought about bringing any snack with you. You just decided to push through it, a couple of minutes wouldn’t make a big difference anyway. 

“And then you do the jump, but watch your feet because you have to kind of twist them like this when you land,” Hoshi showed you the footwork and how you were supposed to finish the step, looking at you carefully through the mirror. “Got it, babe?” 

You nodded your head, though you weren’t sure how much of what he had just shown you you got. Soonyoung pulled out his phone, turning on the music, totally oblivious to how much you were struggling next to him. 

For a while you were doing great - you followed Hoshi’s every step as best as you could, paying attention to your footwork and arms. You could do this, it was almost over. 

But the moment your foot touched the floor after the jump, you felt a sudden ache in your ankle radiating up your entire leg and before you knew what was happening, you fell unconscious to the floor. A panicked “baby” was the last thing you heard before everything turned black. 

Soonyoung knew something was wrong, he was your boyfriend - of course he knew when you were unwell, he was too in love with you not to notice it. If he only knew how badly you were feeling he’d carry your stubborn ass home himself, because he knew that there was no way you’d leave the studio, you’d just keep on repeating that you were fine. 

The plan was to finish the last part of the dance, hug the shit out of you as a reward, and drive you home, so you could eat and rest, but everything went to shit as he saw how your foot twisted in a weird angle, as it met the ground after the jump. Hoshi had never been so grateful for his quick reflexes, because the moment he saw your body unconsciously fall to the floor, he rushed towards you, catching you in his arms. 

"Baby? Baby, please open your eyes," Hoshi felt his arms shaking as he gently lifted your head off the floor to place it on his lap. "Baby," his voice cracked with helplessness. What was he supposed to do now? Wait until you wake up, take you to the hospital, or call an ambulance? 

The only thing that kept him from going completely crazy was the slight rise and fall of your chest - you were breathing. 

"Why didn't you tell me you felt so bad, you idiot?" he sighed, brushing your hair away from your forehead. 

The cold December air was blowing through the open window and Soonyoung could feel the goosebumps on your skin, but he didn't want to close it, you had to have some access to fresh air - it was the least he could do - but he also didn't want you to freeze. He quickly took off his flannel shirt and covered your body with it. Maybe it wasn't the warmest, but at least because it was a few sizes too big for you, it covered your whole body.

"Hey, baby? Please wake up," he whispered, his lips against your forehead. He kissed it tenderly, and in that moment, Soonyoung promised himself that when you woke up, he wouldn't leave your side for the next week. He would follow you everywhere, he would be as clingy as a puppy, but there is no chance that you would get rid of him. 

He had no idea how long it was before your eyes finally slowly opened. "W-what happened?" You croaked, trying to get up. “Hey hey, not so fast,” Soonyoung scolded you in, holding you down so you were still lying on his lap. "You overworked yourself and fainted. Why didn't you tell me right away how bad you felt?"

You sighed and looked at his worried face. It was obvious how concerned he was. "I didn't want to worry you, and besides, I knew that if I said something, you would tell me to go home. And... I thought nothing that terrible would happen," you admitted.

"Of course I'd tell you to go home, you little genius,” he snickered, rubbing soothing circles onto your hip. “I can't believe you're the one who's always mad at me for working too much and when you're the one who's worse!"

You would have agreed with him if it weren't for the pain in your ankle that wouldn't go away.

“Could you check my ankle, honey? It hurts,” you said, and quickly noticed how your boyfriend’s brows furrowed even more. “I’m sure it’s okay, it just stings a bit,” you tried reassuring him. 

You heard him curse silently, and you were about to ask him what was wrong, when you felt pain shoot through your ankle, making you whine because of the ache. “Shit, we have to get you to the hospital,” he said, gently laying your foot down, so he wouldn’t cause any more pain. 

“What do you mean?” You asked concerned, and tried lifting yourself up to look at your foot. “Lay down or I’m going to tie you down,” he said, and you decided to do as he said because you felt sorry for how shaken he seemed. “Soonyoung, baby, look at me,” you said, running your hand over his cheek. "No, no, we have to call an ambulance a-and they will take you and it won't hurt anymore, I p-promise."

“Soonyoung, calm down!" You had to raise your voice slightly because it looked like your boyfriend was about to cry. "Everything's fine, it’s just a sprained ankle."

“Excuse me for freaking out, I only thought you were dead!” He yelled, tugging at his hair, making a mess on his head. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and you seriously had to do something to calm him down.

"But Soonyoung, you can take me to the hospital, we don't have to call an ambulance," he looked at you, surprised for some reason. "You want me to drive you?"

“Yes,” now you were the one who was confused. Why was he so surprised that you wanted him to drive you to the hospital?

"So you trust me behind the wheel?"

"Baby, what do you mean? Of course I do," you said immediately, grabbing his hand.

"And you're not afraid to come with me?"

“Soonyoung, what are you talking about?”

"I just feel like not everyone feels safe with me driving, and I thought you'd feel better taking the ambulance," he said quietly, looking down. As if the pain from your ankle moved to your heart, you grabbed his hand tighter and brought your joined hands to your chest.

"There is no other person in the world with whom I feel as safe as with you."

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[agirlcandream84]

Neighbor!Frank Giving Daddy Vibes When He Offers To Help You

This isn't smut but it also isn't fluff but it is comfort but also hot? Like listen, I want Frank to step in and make.things.better. And you know he would.

Frank Castle x Reader

Word Count: 1,732 (~6 min read)

You felt like an idiot, sobbing on your living room floor over a damn futon. It wasn't even the futon, really, it was the colossal mess that acquiring the futon created. As a single girl, you should have guessed Facebook Marketplace was a sketchy place to buy your furniture but you were broke and desperate.

You'd been in your new apartment for a month and your living room was still an empty box with some pillows on the ground as a sad replacement for a couch. You saw the listing for a futon for $50, including delivery, on Marketplace and jumped on the offer. The guy had seemed nice enough and you arranged a time for drop-off on the front stoop of your building but the man pulled up in his truck with a hunk of dissembled futon parts instead of the assembled futon in the picture. Your heart sank instantly and you told him you didn't have the tools to assemble the futon.

"Not my problem," was all he grumbled as he opened his truck bed and started unloading the parts onto the sidewalk, clanging with every toss.

"Please, I'm sorry, I can't take this. I don't have any way to assemble it," you shout over the rattle of the pieces amassing on the sidewalk. He ignores you and continues to unload until the last scrap is cleared from his truck.

"I'm not paying for this," you tell him indignantly. "This isn't what the picture looked like."

He spits on the sidewalk as he strides over to you, grabbing your wrist roughly and yanking the $50 from your hand and mumbles, "Yes you fucking are."

As he drives away you contemplate just leaving the pieces there but your landlord has security cameras and the problem will circle back to you quickly enough. And so, after 30 mins of hauling parts up four flights of stairs and nearly two hours of attempting to assemble the futon using god knows what tools you had lying around the apartment you find yourself in heaving sobs on your living room floor.

The sharp rap at your door snaps you out of your spiral as you mumble a faint, "hello?" towards the door.

The voice on the other said says "Hey, uh, it's me. It's Frank." Frank kept to himself but you had both settled into a kind rhythm with each other. You occasionally dropped off your leftovers (he didn't seem like the type to cook much for himself) and he'd occasionally help take your trash out to the dumpsters or made sure your windows had working locks.

He wasn't one to talk much, usually just ringing your bell and grumbling something before lending a hand, and you assume it's by design. The thing is, you worried about Frank. Though he'd never say anything about it, you saw the way bruises would occasionally bloom across his face. Or the way he'd limp back to his unit down the hall. Sometimes he seemed to be gone for days on end. But despite all signs screaming, DANGEROUS MAN, you trusted Frank and he always treated you nicely. His presence was a comport even, if he did seem to attract danger.

"Oh, uh, coming," you mumble as you weave through the maze of futons parts scattered across your floor and quickly the wipe the tears from your cheeks. You open the door to find Frank leaning with his raised forearm against the doorframe, his hulking form above you, and his eyebrows furrowed.

"Hey Frank, everything ok?" you ask, eyes cast upward toward him, door only cracked a little to conceal the mess you were currently in.

"Came to ask you that question," he responds, chin jutting up to indicate your direction. "Thought maybe I heard some cryin' in there," he adds.

Shame flushes your face and radiates through your body. You weren't above asking for help when you needed it but to be caught in the middle of your mental breakdown was another humiliation entirely.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize you could hear. I hope I didn't bother you. I'm so sorry," you rush out, your cheeks a vibrant pink.

"Hey, no no," he stops you, those brows furrowing, "don't apologize. Jeez sweetheart, I came to see if you're ok. Somethin' I can help with?"

You couldn't decide if it felt infinitely more embarrassing to accept Frank's help or if it was a tremendous relief.

"Well, I don't know. It's this.." you trail off, motioning to the room he can't see.

"Let me see, a'right?" he offers gently, "Can you open the door a bit for me?" he asks, his hand landing on the knob. You nod and step back, making room for Frank to enter.

"It was a Facebook Marketplace thing... the guy was a jerk," you start and describe what transpired. Frank appears to be growing more agitated at the story continues, his arms crossed across his chest and big breaths huffing out through his crooked nose.

"fuckin' prick," he mumbles under his breath when you finish as he squats to the floor to inspect the task. "These are the only tools you got honey?" he asks gently, not meaning to embarrass. After nodding your head yes he replies, "Yeah, no wonder you were frustrated. This is a nightmare. I'm gonna get my toolbox and I'm coming straight back, ok sweetheart?"

You nod your head again and he's gone for a moment to his own unit. You will yourself to take a few deep breaths to not only wash away the last of the tears but to calm your nerves. Frank always made you nervous. It was that energy of his -- always in charge-- it was simultaneously immensely comforting and slightly frightening.

You hear his footsteps approach from the hall as he calls "S'me honey," so you wouldn't be frightened. He enters with his toolbox at his side and crouches low to get to work on building.

"Are you sure about this Frank? It's so much work, I know it's a pain," you ramble, twisting your fingers in knots, your embodiment of anxiety. You know he's capable but the man probably had other plans for his afternoon.

His eyes land on your twisted fingers as he replies "Happy to do it, alright? I gotcha," and you relax just a bit. After getting him a glass of water you decide to busy yourself in the kitchen, washing last night's dishes and tidying up. After 30 mins of work, he's nearly complete.

"Hey sweetheart," he shouts into the kitchen, "can you do something for me?"

"Yeah, of course," you reply entering the living and tossing the dish towel aside, "how can I help?"

"Alright, you see this piece here," he says pointing at a bent metal bar that wasn't aligned to the screw hole, "that asshole mangled this piece when he disassembled it so we gotta force back in place. Need you to screw it in here when I start bending it back alright?" he asks as he indicates to the screw hole. You nod in understanding as he hands you the manual screw driver. He places his hands on your hips and says gently, "need you stand here honey," to guide you to stand directly in front of him, the futon in front of you. He feel heat flame your cheeks and thank god Frank is facing the back of your head.

Frank engulfs your form, his chin hovering over your right shoulder as his arms reach around either side of you to land on the bent metal bar. You hear the comforting rhythm of his breath in your ear and squeeze your eyes shut a moment to shake the heat rising in your cheeks. He steps forward an inch to get the right leverage on the bar, his broad chest grazing your back.

"this, uh, this ok?" he mumbles in the shell of your ear, his voice soft and rumbly, confirming your comfort and managing to raise the temperature in the room by about 50 degrees. You can't manage an audible yes but you nod instead. With that, you feel him lean closer, a grunt escaping his lips as he forces the bent bar back into place. You watch as his broad hands grip the cool metal, the ropes in his forearms taut as he bends it back to shape. As the holes line up, you begin screwing as fast as you can, securing the bar in place.

He pants as he releases the effort, an "attagirl" tumbling from his lips as his calloused hand wraps around yours, making the last, hardest 90 degree turn to tighten the screw in place. "Practically built the thing yourself," he teases, releasing your hand.

"I can't thank you enough," you start, turning to face him, his face now only inches from yours, the expanse of his shoulders nearly consuming the room. "I.. uh I..." you mumble, the rest of the thought terminated as you stand close enough to smell the mossy freshness of his deodorant.

"Yeah, hey, like I said, happy to help," he responds, one landing landing on your upper arm and squeezing gently before grazing down to let go. He adds after a beat, "Listen, you talk to me about it next time sweetheart, yeah? I’ll take care of it. Don't go gettin’ in a mess like that," his brown eyes nearly boring into yours.

"What do you mean... take care of it?" you ask, nearly a whisper, tiptoeing over a boundary you weren't sure you wanted to know more about. What was Frank's definition of "taking care of" something and why did you think it involved more bruises? Or worse.

His eyes flick away for a moment before finding yours again. "Yeah, that's nothin' you need to worry about honey," he responds, more breath than voice, and you had decided you didn't prefer to know any more.

After a few minutes collecting and packing his tools, Frank made his way to the door and you followed him behind, thanking him again for the help.

"Yeah, it's no problem. Let me take care of you sometimes, yeah?" he replies, leaning in to kiss your cheek, his hand landing softly on your opposite cheek for only a moment, before turning to walk towards his unit, leaving you with a new problem: were you in love with Frank?

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

Okay, so... I had this thought earlier... but what would Vox think.. if a reader.... had a breeding kink? They get off to the idea that Vox fills them up after a hot and heavy pounding. Would something awaken in him, or would he just simply indulge in their fantasy after some thought?

My god you'd definitely awaken something in him.

That being said, if you were to start begging him to breed you in the middle of a session, it would give him just enough pause to make you wonder if you fucked up before he goes absolutely fucking feral.

If You Insist [Vox x Reader] NSFW

(NSFW writing under the cut. Minors stay away <3)

It had been a long fucking day. Vox's schedule had been booked to the second with back-to-back meetings regarding products, partnerships, and new streaming services that would be released in the upcoming year. To say he was ready to tear someone apart by the end of it all would be an understatement. Having to sit through so many boring meetings had been mind-numbingly dull and he wanted nothing more than to unwind and blow off some steam.

You were lying on the couch in his penthouse when you heard the familiar electric charge building up from one of the cameras installed in the corner. The room flashes with bright cyan light as you look up from your phone and you perk up at the sight of your favorite overlord.

"There you are," you say as you pocket your phone and get up. Your eyebrows furrow as you see the mental exhaustion clear in his expression. You open your arms and Vox groans as he falls into them, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder as he takes a deep breath.

"Long day?" You ask as you rub his back.

Vox simply grunts, his arms tightening around you. "Fucking idiots. Every last one of them, I swear."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "They can be, yeah. What can I do to help? There's still leftovers in the fridge or we could watch reruns of that shitty series you like or-"

Your trailing list of suggestions is cut off as Vox's claws dig into the back of your shirt, his hot breath fanning over the side of your neck. You shiver as he begins marking a trail of heated nips and kisses on your skin.

"T-That answers that," you sigh as you tilt your head to give him better access. After dating Vox for as long as you had been, you know better than to let him get too carried away without redirecting him to a more comfortable location. He was impatient and once he got going, he didn't tend to give much mercy or consideration to any potential aching joints after the fact.

You pull on his bow tie as you take a step back, then another. He growls as you make him follow you to the couch, his claws drifting down to your hips. You smirk as you keep ahold of the accessory and pull him down onto the couch. He straddles your lap as he hungrily presses his lips against yours.

"Coming home to this was the only thing that got me through all that bullshit," he muttered against your lips as his hands sneak under your shirt. You take the hint and help him pull off the offending garment. It gets tossed to the side and you grin as he bends down and immediately captures one of your breasts between his teeth while cupping the other.

You let out a pleased hum as your fingers find the back of his collar and dig into the fabric. "You know I'm always more than happy to help you unwind," you purr.

It wasn't long before all clothing was abandoned altogether and he had maneuvered you onto his lap while he lay on the couch beneath you. His hips stuttered against yours as you ground your slick heat against him. Every time he tried to pull you down, you smacked his hands. He growled in frustration, his claws digging into your skin hard enough to break the surface. You hiss at the pain, but grin as you look down at him and continue to tease him with your ministrations. "Patience, Vee," you chastise him.

"I've been patient," Vox growled with frustration. "All fucking day!" You had planned on teasing him for longer but were caught off guard as he flipped your positions and pinned you underneath him with a scowl.

"Vox, wait- Ah!" Your hand shoots above you, clutching onto a pillow as he slips two of his fingers into your heat. His grin is cruel as he doesn't bother taking much time before he slips in a third and moves faster.

"No, I don't think I'll be playing your games this time, Dollface," he smirks as he plunges deeper within you. He scissors his fingers and curls them cruelly as you gasp and writhe beneath him. He leans in, pressing down as he lowers his face to yours. "I'm going to do what I want to you, and you're going to let me. Isn't that right?"

You moan as he curls his fingers against your G-spot. He strokes slowly over the sensitive area with a sadistic grin. His free hand shoots out and clamps down around your throat. You gasp, clutching his wrist as he tightens his grip. "When I ask a question, you answer."

He lets you struggle for air for just a little longer, still teasing you with gentle strokes despite his cruelty before he relaxes his grip just enough for you to find your voice.

"Y-Yes," you gasp. "Whatever you want. I'll take it. I'll take it all."

"Good," Vow growled as he released you. He pulled his fingers from your needy cunt and looked at the slick collected between his fingers. "Now then," he sighed before shoving them into your mouth.

You gag as his claws press dangerously against the back of your throat. "Be good and clean up the mess you made."

Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you swirl your tongue carefully around him. His sadistic grin only grows at the sight of your pathetic obedience. "That's better," he purred as he reached down and pumped himself slowly at the sight.

He lined himself up against your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock against you teasingly as you rolled your hips against him. He groans, unable to hold himself back for much longer. "Show me," he orders.

You open your mouth, letting your tongue hang out as he retracts his clean fingers. He inspects them and nods. "Good," he says simply before his eye flashes and he shoves himself inside you without warning.

Your back arches and you let out a strangled scream as he snaps his hips into you cruelly. "Now take it all."

His claws dig into your hips as he holds them up and pounds into you mercilessly. You cry and grasp desperately at the couch beneath you as he lets out his frustrations. "That's fucking it," he groans. "You're such a perfect little fucking cocksleeve. Fuck! Your body was made for taking this dick."

You nod, babbling with tears in your eyes, "Yes, fuck, yes! I'm yours to use, all fucking yours. Please!"

Vox chuckled as his sharp, cruel thrusts slowed to a stop. You whine, feeling the desperate need in you begging to be released. "No, no, no, please don't stop!" You sob.

"I don't know," Vox smirked. "You were playing pretty damn coy earlier. I don't know if you deserve it." As much as he wanted to ruin you, he loved watching you suffer for it. For him, it was just as good as actually finishing.

You wrap your arms around his neck and roll your hips up into him desperately. "Please Vox, I'm sorry. I'll be good. I promise."

"Hmm," Vox grins as he considers it. "You promise, huh?"

You nod furiously, "Yes, yes, I promise, so please for the love of god, fuck me."

He growls as he captures your lips and starts pounding into you hard. You shake, hanging on for dear life as you moan around his tongue in your mouth. When he releases your lips, you throw your head back as you lose yourself in the bliss of it all. "Fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you," you say as you moan unabashedly.

"T-That's it," Vox said as his screen started to glitch. "There's my good fucking w̴̘͇͆͋̕̕h̷͇̦̪̺̯͋̄̂͝͠o̸̼̝̼̬͑͌͜r̵̡̻͋͛́̾è̷̹̻͎̼̹. Take it."

"Please, fuck, I'll take it, I'll take it! Fucking fill me up," you babble as the knot in your core tightens. "Pump me full of your cum. I want to take every last drop, please!"

Vox's eyes widen and he slows to a stop as he catches his breath. You whine, throwing your head back as the peak you had been so close to reaching slipped from your grasp. "Nooo, why?!"

"Did you mean that?" Vox asked, his tone unreadable and quiet.

You pant, your expression furrowing in frustrated confusion as you look up at him. "What?"

"You just-," Vox huffed, dropping his head as he continued to catch his breath. "You just fucking told me to cum inside of you, dumbass."

You blink slowly before the words of passion catch up with you. Your heart is pounding as you bring your hands up to the sides of Vox's face and lift his screen so he's looking at you.

"Vox?" you say softly as you look him deep in the eyes. "Breed me."

"Ohoho, fuck," Vox grins. You feel him twitch hard inside of you and squeal in delight as you feel him lift your legs and fold you into a mating press.

"Don't have to tell me twice," he growled with a feral grin. The familiar black rings in his eye sent a shock of excitement through you as he held you down and slowly slid back inside of your glistening cunt.

You both moan and Vox's eyes screw shut in concentration as he steadies his breathing. He crouches over you, his body pressing your legs further against your own body, and starts fucking slowly. His entire body shakes with excitement as he presses into you and holds himself for just a moment. "Just remember," he says hoarsely. "You asked for this."

His cock slid in and out of you with ease as he started his relentless assault. You moaned and babbled absolute gibberish as the obscene sounds of his grunting and balls slapping against your pussy filled the room. Every thrust felt impossibly deep as he pounded into you without restraint.

"F-Fuck," he grunted as his face started to glitch. "I'm gonna make you take every. Last. Fucking. D̴͕̂r̵̛̳̺̽̽o̷̦͘p̶̢͕̈ͅ.̷̜̤͈̿̒͌"

The rekindled need inside of you snapped as you felt him shove his cock as deep in you as he could as he came with a strangled shout. He pressed you into the couch and stars exploded across your vision as you felt him pour into you until you were impossibly full.

"We are absolutely fucking doing that again."

Vox collapsed on top of you, his cock buried inside of of you, keeping his cum plugged inside of you. The weight made you groan weakly and he chuckled as he looked down at your wrecked expression. He gently dragged his claws across your forehead, pulling the hair that stuck to your skin out of your face. He pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to your cheek as he committed the sight of you to memory.

[bowrapped]

burning for you

feline hybrid!reader x older!leon

tags: 18+, porn without plot, cis!afab!reader, owner/pet dynamics, daddy kink, mating/heat cycles, breeding kink, praise kink, hand kink, dd/lg-like themes, established relationship, surprisingly soft?

4.3k words

notes: i took the plunge and finally completed an nsfw fic based on some of my submissions to @lipglossanon as 🎀 anon! i hope y’all enjoy :)

crossposted to ao3

The front door subtly clicked as Leon unlocked it. Usually, you would already be headed to the door in greeting, your sensitive ears picking up his presence from the smallest of noises. This time, however, you were nowhere to be seen, and Leon called out to you as he shed his various accoutrement and walked deeper into the home.

Life with a hybrid had come with solace and routine for Leon, though it was a bit touch and go at times. You had a penchant for digging into his dirty laundry, wrapping yourself in sweaty workout clothes that you swore smelled divine. You were incredibly affectionate, something that both comforted and occasionally confounded Leon. You sweetly stayed by his side, purring as your long tail swished with affection. That’s not to say you were clingy—just honest in your feelings for the older man.

All of these factors were even more pronounced during your heat cycles. Leon knew another was coming soon, and he had a hunch it had come a bit early in spite of his preparations.

The thought was practically confirmed when there was no response to his calls. Leon quickly moved to his bedroom, past experience guiding him to your likely whereabouts.

As expected, he found you curled against his sheets and an assortment of his clothes. Your hands were bunched in the pile of fabric, pointedly refraining from touching your lower body while your thighs pressed together—trying and failing to find relief.

In his presence, you merely whined and curled yourself further into the makeshift nest around you, seemingly unable or unwilling to move very far.

Leon moved to sit on the edge of the bed and sighed, “There you are.”

You quickly shifted from your spot, your face pressed into his side as your hands tightly gripped his shirt. Your body was so tightly strung that you were near tears as you clung to your owner. Voice high and desperate, you cried into the cloth, “I needed you—need you so bad, Daddy.”

Daddy. The name had been your suggestion. You’d asked to call him that from the beginning, stating that it encompassed everything you dreamed an owner would be. A caregiver—someone who would love you unconditionally. His heart had melted at the confession, and he couldn’t help the twinge of arousal hearing the title from your lips. He diligently kept the expected promise of the name, and spoiled you just as it suggested. Middle age was surely softening him, but he wouldn’t focus on that now.

Leon easily untangled you from his side, gathered you in his arms, and sat against the dark wooden headboard. You were pliant as he settled you in his lap, back pressed against his chest and legs resting outside of his. Still, your hands clung to the muscular arms wrapped around your waist.

“Poor kitty,” Leon cooed as he guided your hair to the side, careful not to muss your pointed ears. His lips grazed your heated skin, stubble slightly tickling you as he went, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier, but I’m here now, alright? Daddy’ll make it better.”

“Daddy, please, I—“ you mewled as Leon mouthed and nipped at your neck. “Was so good. I didn’t touch myself just like you told me to. Been waiting for you. Been so good,” your breath was heavy while you babbled, desperate for Leon to touch you.

He hummed in interest and smiled softly at your words—though you couldn’t see it. That rule was another staple in your dynamic, not born from sadism, but what Leon considered necessity.

Though you’d gotten better, you still had a tendency toward messiness. While he couldn’t fully fault you, he still needed to set some ground rules. Coming home to the sight of you grinding against his pillow was hot in the moment, but the extra laundry to be done after the fact was another story.

“Is that right?” He continued to press kisses into your nape as his hands roamed across your clothed chest, “That’s my girl. Daddy’s so proud of you, baby.”

You preened under his praise, chasing the large, rough hands that languidly explored your upper body over the threadbare fabric of Leon’s old tee. Your smaller fingers wrapped around his wrist in an attempt to pull his hands lower. You needed his fingers on your clit, in your cunt, anywhere that could give relief to the burning heat threatening to consume you.

Your body relaxed against Leon’s as he easily followed your lead. The feeling immediately dissipated when he didn’t go further down, but lifted your shirt hem instead.

“Daddy…” you grumbled. Your disappointment was evident, but Leon still pointedly ignored your spread legs and instead exposed your chest to the cool air of the room.

“Patience,” he murmured, his voice low in his chest. “Want to give you some attention here first,” his calloused palms rested underneath your breasts, “We can’t have them feeling left out, can we?”

A high moan caught in your throat. You wanted to argue, to pull his hands down again, but you merely held onto his wrists as he continued to caress you. Your want to follow Leon’s somehow won out over heated desperation.

He caught your pebbled nipples between his forefinger and thumb, rolling and tugging them before grasping your breasts once more. You arched into his calloused hands, pleasured whimpers unmistakable in spite of your discontent.

“There you go…” Leon’s voice was soothing. “I know it’s hard, but just let me play a little.”

You let him. You always did. In your mind, Leon hung the stars, and you consistently followed him even when you protested.

It didn’t help that the rough attention he gave your breasts was a dizzying combination of too much and not enough. Your mind would be muddled regardless, but it was especially so now.

Neither his ministrations, nor your keens wavered as he spoke, “So sensitive here, sweetheart…Makes me wanna use my mouth on you—kiss you until you couldn't take it anymore.”

Your ears were downturned at his words. You knew you would take whatever Leon gave you, but you didn’t know if you could take that much teasing in your current state.

Leon huffed a laugh into your neck, ”I would, too, but you want me somewhere else, right?”

You immediately nodded, your hands again attempted to guide him between your legs. Leon’s arms remained firm, as did his tone, “C’mon. Gotta use your words for me.”

“‘M sorry,” your voice warbled, “I do.” You tugged his wrists again, succeeding this time in moving his hands further downward.

Leon’s fingertips grazed the frilly top of your panties as he playfully feigned ignorance.

“Here?” he questioned, a teasing smile on his face.

Your tail flicked in discontent as you immediately spread your legs even wider for him. “Yes. Please touch me, Daddy. I need it. Need you so badly.” Your hips canted upward, seeking friction that wasn’t there. The ache between your thighs was all-consuming, and you were desperate for the relief you knew Leon could give.

Leon gently patted your hip, “Alright. I’ll give you what you need, okay? No more teasing.”

He snaked his right hand underneath your waistband. His free arm wrapped firmly around your waist—an anchor for you as well as a way to keep you still. The wet spot you left on the white fabric was almost translucent on Leon’s hand as he gathered your slick on his fingertips.

His fingers easily glided across your entrance and up to your clit. You immediately bucked at the contact, but Leon’s arm didn't budge from its place across your soft stomach as he held you against him. His touch started in slow circular motions so as not to overwhelm your sensitive body.

Still, your hips desperately attempted to chase his hand, and you whined in both relieved pleasure and indignation at Leon’s stilling grasp. “It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he cooed.

As much as you wanted Leon to rush with you, he often opted to take his time. In addition to his penchant for teasing, you were precious to him, and he wished to convey that in part with how he handled you in intimate moments—at least until you urged him enough to do differently.

Leon’s languid caresses grew stronger as he guided your overstimulated body. Sloppy, rhythmic clicks and vocal, heaving breaths announced your desperation to the otherwise silent room. His fingers swept across your clit and down your soaked cunt where he began to work his fingers inside you. Your muscles immediately tightened around him, trying to pull his digits further in.

“Hah—Daddy,” you cried out, body still trying to move with the rhythm of his hand. The heel of Leon’s palm grinded against your clit as two of his fingers curled inside you. You lurched, moans caught high in your throat at the intense feeling. Your dulled nails gripped Leon’s forearms. The unfounded thought of him removing his hands had you scrambling to keep him in place.

With your limited movement, you arched back into Leon as you chased the stimulation of his hand. The feel of his hardening cock underneath you only spurred on your growing climax. The air was filled with your high-pitched cries and the lewd wet sound of Leon’s fingers moving inside of you, “Fuck—please, don’t stop, Daddy.”

A low hush brushed against your skin. “It’s okay, I won’t stop,” his lips were hotly pressed to your ear as he attempted to soothe you. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

Leon’s soft words and strong grip were grounding to your overactive mind. Though your hand was tight on his own and your cries didn’t fully cease, your body still minutely relaxed into his.

“Atta girl,” Leon murmured, “You’re alright. Just need to let Daddy take care of you.”

He pressed his palm harsher against you, trying to guide you over the edge, “Want you to cum on my fingers first. Can you do that for me?”

“Mhm. I can,” you hiccuped, “Wanna feel good. Wanna be good for you, Daddy.” You continued to chase your high, grinding down on Leon’s hand as he pressed a third finger alongside the others.

His voice kept rumbling softly in your mind, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t grasp any of the words spoken into your tufted ear. Your attention was solely focused on your impending climax and the sight of Leon’s hand between your legs.

Your eyes followed the flexing tendons in his wrist down to the hand half-hidden by soaked fabric. A part of you yearned to see his hand work against you, unconcealed by the frilled garment. Another loathed the idea of losing his touch at all.

You didn’t have to ponder the dilemma for much longer as your climax encroached the forefront of your mind. Leon’s hands and voice were both quickly guiding you toward your peak, and you followed the feeling with abandon. Your body had been left wanting, but now it could finally get relief. You trembled in his arms, ears folded and brow furrowed in pleasure.

“That’s it,” he drawled, “Know you can do it, baby.”

The knot in your core continually grew tighter under Leon’s rough hands and gentle coaxing. You fell over the edge easily. Your nails and mind latched onto the whispered promise of relief and a full cunt. Later, you’d be apologetic at each of the marks you left on Leon’s skin, but the thought was far away in the wake of your climax.

Your ears buzzed as the feeling swept you under. Leon worked your body through it, his fingers sticky with your release.

“There you go…” he cooed. His touches slowly transitioned from strong presses to soft caresses that left your body quivering.

Your chest heaved on the pleasant come down. Yet still, you felt empty in spite of his fingers. Heat demanded one thing from you, and the yearning ache in your core would not let you forget that fact.

You impatiently pulled his hand from your panties and interrupted its languid dance across your pussy. His fingers separated, and the semi-translucent strings connecting them instantly caught your eye.

Without thinking, you ran your textured tongue up his salty-sweet palm. “Daddy,” you spoke against his skin. “Wanna keep going,” you captured his fingers between your lips, catching his knuckles on your canines and muffling your voice, “Please?”

You lost yourself in your owner’s calloused hands. You had always been enamored with them and their ability to treat you with both stern guidance and delicate finesse. Today was no different.

Leon’s grip tightened around your waist. As much as (or perhaps, because) he loved it, attending to you had left him painfully hard and wanting. The feel of your warm mouth and the unintentional satisfied hums reverberating in your throat did little to help.

He shifted his fingers against your tongue, coaxing your mouth open when he spread them. You chased the thin bands of saliva connecting you, gathering his fingers back into your mouth in a meager attempt to clean them.

Leon’s eyes were fixed onto your mouth as he breathed, “Alright, baby. Just need you to get up for me, okay?”

Your lips relinquished their hold on Leon’s hand, now only slightly less messy than before. You quickly adjusted your position—poised on your knees, presenting yourself regardless of your semi-clothed form. Your tail swayed above you in silent beacon as you awaited his response.

God. Leon was sure you’d be the death of him. He’d expected you to simply shift, to sit between his legs and face him while you anticipated his next words. Normally, you would, and Leon felt this boldness was a side effect of your biology-induced desperation. Either way, he couldn’t help but enjoy the view.

His hands easily rested on your hips as he knelt behind you. One rested at your tailbone, your soft fur nestled in the cradle between his index finger and thumb. The other teased at the line of your underwear in the silent promise of removing the garment.

“Shit,” he sighed, “Almost too pretty for your own good.” His palms were hot against your skin, unmoving but firm.

You shivered underneath him when you realized the image you likely projected in that moment. You, half-clothed with tousled hair and your hips high in offering. Him, still in the base of his work clothes with only flushed cheeks and tented jeans to betray his lust.

Fighting the urge to grind back into him, you let Leon explore your body at his own pace.

He silently stroked the base of your tail as his eyes and free hand roamed over your body. A low purr vibrated in your chest. Though the heated ache persisted, you always indulged in any attention Leon gave you.

Leon had a strong teasing streak—something that had seriously frustrated you at first. In your mind, you didn’t know why you would deny yourself when you could instead be honest and proactive in your desires.

With time, you learned that while it did partially come from a place of mischief, it mostly stemmed from appreciation. He wanted to take his time with you, lathe affection on each inch of your skin, and cement that you were his to cherish.

His hand shifted across your ass and down to the gusset of your panties. Your hips jumped when his thumb ran a smooth line down to your clothed clit.

“Daddy…”

Though you understood his teasing, it didn’t mean you were never impatient in the wake of it.

Leon gently hushed you, “Want to take my time with you for a little longer. Just be patient for me.”

You breathed in quiet pants as his light touches continued. He pulled the damp cotton down your thighs, smoothing your puffed tail as it threaded through the makeshift hole in the fabric.

His hand again found its place between your legs. You jerked under his touch as his thumb ran along soaked skin. Before you could fully sink into the feeling, it seemed to leave almost as soon as it arrived.

You turned back to protest, but all impatient remarks caught in your throat when you caught his eye over your shoulder. Leon mirrored your earlier actions, albeit much less messily, savoring what your body left on the pad of his thumb.

Noticing your reaction, his eyes creased at the edges. “You made it look so good, thought I needed a reminder.” His free hand revealed more of your face from under your mussed locks, “But that can come later, right?”

He shifted back, deft fingers quickly undoing the clasps of his well-worn belt and deep blue jeans. A low sigh escaped him as he freed his cock. Precum beaded at the flushed tip, belying the composure he’d shown thus far.

You reached for Leon’s hand in a silent plea, and he quickly tangled your fingers in understanding.

A high moan rushed from your throat as he slowly guided himself into your welcoming heat. The feeling of him was not new, but it was nevertheless overwhelming. Your mind was awash with him. The dull burning stretch of your muscles, the warmth of his hands on your sides, and the timbre of Leon’s voice all swam in your muddled mind and culminated in slurred gratitude.

Daddy—thank you, thank you, thank you…!

“Shh, don’t gotta thank me, sweetheart,” he whispered, “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

You hiccuped a relieved sob at finally being filled. Your face burned—though you couldn’t dwell on your outburst. Instead, your breathing was heavy as you tried to relax around him. Wanted as it was, the insistent press of his cock was heady in your cotton-filled brain.

Leon let out a low moan as your body greedily took him in. In spite of your shared desperation, he kept his pace slow and his touch gentle. His hand squeezed yours in reassurance, and he quietly called your name. “Talk to me,” he coaxed, voice rough in his throat.

You nodded earnestly, one side of your face against the bedsheets, “I’m okay…” your voice trembled, “Sorry.”

He chuckled, “It’s alright. Don’t want to hurt you, that's all.”

“You won’t,” you grinded against him as you deepened the arch of your back, goading Leon further, “I can take it, Daddy. Please?”

“Fuck…” Leon hissed, his hips involuntarily following yours. He pressed your intertwined hands into the mattress, “I can never say no to you, can I?”

Your voice was lost in your throat, and the rhetorical question was simply met with pleased mewls as he finally moved. Obscene wet noises resounded from where your bodies were joined. The sound mingled with your voices in an unorthodox symphony.

Leon’s hand untangled from yours, moving to firmly grasp your hip. With it, he guided your body onto his, thrusts heavy as he fell into rhythm. His eyes trailed down the glistening line of your spine to where the two of you were connected. Your cunt wrapped tightly around him, seemingly trying to keep his cock nestled deep inside.

“Can’t help but spoil you.” Leon’s voice was low and rough as his eyes remained on you. A white band of your arousal already began to gather at his base—another mark of explicit honesty from your tightly wound body.

Each of your cries were muffled into the mattress as he fucked you. Your pleasured babbles were almost unintelligible to Leon as you continued to hide from him.

Muscular arms gathered you close to his chest, your damp skin hot against his own. Your head lolled to the side in a meager bid for him to move higher as he placed more forceful, heated kisses along your shoulder. “You don’t need to hide, sweetheart,” he murmured, stubble now rough against you. As he spoke, one of his hands trailed down to your soaked cunt.

It easily found its mark, rubbing quick circles along your clit and further coaxing you to your climax. You bucked in his grasp at the added stimulation. Your hands clutched his forearms as they searched for an anchor. You were certain his grip was the only thing keeping you kneeling on your shaking legs.

Your words were interspersed with whines and moans as he continued to move inside of you, “‘M sorry, Daddy—just feels so good.”

You could feel his smile at your words. “It’s alright,” he breathed, “Just let go for me.” His other hand found its way to your breast, cradling it in his palm. He let his thumb trace circles across its peak, his movements gentle yet purposeful.

Your voice continued to fill the room in tandem with the sound of your bodies moving together. Each of Leon’s touches had you barreling toward your peak.

Your tail trembled against Leon’s chest, and you whined high in your throat, the vibrations reaching Leon’s lips as he kissed your fevered skin, “Daddy, ‘m so close—please.” You weren't sure what you were asking for with your pleasure-slurred words. You just knew you didn’t want him to stop.

“I know, baby,” he whispered. He continued to rub your clit as he pressed his lips against yours in a messy kiss. His heavy breaths mingled with yours as he spoke, “Daddy’s got you. It’s okay.”

His movements became more forceful, his hips pumping into you faster than before. His encouraging whispers and forceful touches remained as you reached the edge.

A final coo from him had you tumbling to your orgasm. Your body shook in Leon’s grasp as he fucked you through it. You almost chanted his name and given title like a prayer as you crested over each wave of pleasure. Your cunt tightly squeezed around him. Leon’s resulting groan was lost in the rushing of your ears.

He continued to thrust into you, feeling his own release beginning to come soon after yours. “Oh, fuck,” he choked back a whine, his breath hot against your sweat-dampened skin.

You reached behind you, hooking your fingers into what you could of Leon’s thigh. “Please, don’t stop,” you begged—desperate for him even now, “Wan’ it inside.”

Leon’s cock throbbed at your request. The admission wasn’t new by any means, but it was no less spurring. His arms snaked closer around your waist, seeking more leverage to buck his hips upwards into yours.

“Okay, I’ll give you what you want, baby. Give it to you,” he rested a palm just under your navel, “right here. Right where it should be, hm?.”

You clenched around him again, eliciting another pleasured hiss from Leon. “Yes! Want it so bad. Wanna be full. Need to be full, Daddy,” your frantic pleas continued.

Your trimmed nails pressed small crescent moons into Leon’s skin as you clung to him. You reached between your legs, already seeking another release as Leon chased his own.

“Shh…” Leon soothed you, rubbing his hand along your side. “It's okay. I won’t stop.” He deftly replaced your hand with his own, his larger fingers rubbing quick circles against your swollen clit.

“Just a little bit longer, baby,” he whispered hoarsely. “Then I’ll fill you up. Try and make you a mommy. Would my pretty girl like that?”

Your body prickled in arousal at Leon’s words. You nodded jerkily, words slurring while you trembled in his arms, “Please, Daddy, I want that s’much. Wan’ you to get me pregnant.”

Your heats often lead down this line of talk. Leon wasn’t even sure if it was possible, but he always indulged you. He also couldn’t deny that the idea of it taking, leaving you glowing and full of him months down the line had his abdomen tight with want.

Leon held his hips flush against you as he reached his peak. He cursed lowly into your neck while his cock throbbed, filling you with each movement. The warmth spreading within you along with your owner’s goading words sent you over the edge again with him.

Your bodies fed into each other’s pleasure in a dizzying loop. Each clench of your muscles caused him to grind more harshly into your cunt, filling you further as you milked his release.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy—” your words strung together as you came around him. Your tail wrapped loosely around his waist in a meager attempt to keep him in place.

He held you tightly to his broad chest, keeping his cock pressed snugly against your cervix. He kissed your fevered temple as you came down together, whispering soothing words with each press of his lips.

You clung to him with equal fervor. Mewls quietly tumbled from your mouth while Leon enveloped you.

Your bodies remained connected as your heart rates and breathing gradually slowed. After a moment, he began to unwrap his arms from your spent frame—ready to clean the two of you from the evening. Before he could, however, your hands immediately tightened their grip on him.

“Wait—don’t want any to spill out. Wanna keep it all in. Please?” Your soft feline ears were flat against your head at the thought of Leon leaving you empty. You wanted to cockwarm him—keep him and his cum as deep as possible for as long as he’d let you.

Leon shook his head and looked down at you with affectionate amusement, “Greedy…” Despite his teasing remark, he allowed himself to be pulled back.

Ensuring your bodies remained connected, Leon carefully guided you both back to your earlier position—you sat in his lap while his back rested against the headboard.

The feeling of his jeans underneath you erred on the edge of uncomfortable as the opened fly pressed into your skin. You refused to admit it to Leon, though, and instead opted to lean further into the man.

His fingers combed through your hair, taming some of the tangles. Your head tilted toward his touch, eager to be pet. He readily obliged you and you purred contentedly in his arms, heat sated—at least for the moment.

[wonderlandwalker]

Nurse Nightingale | James Potter x Reader

Marauders Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Someone wakes you up in the middle of the night, when you realize it's James looking for help you don't have the heart to refuse him

Content Warnings/Tags: fluff, blood, bruising, cuts, mentions of violence, insinuations of smut

Word Count: 1k

A/n: I'm currently using the uni holiday as an excuse not to study so now I'm writing non-stop instead. Not quite smut but sorta if you're willing to squint

*Knock knock*

You turn around, looking at the clock on the bedside table. Who the hell is knocking on the door at 3 AM?

*Knock knock*

You turn onto your stomach, pushing your pillow over your head in an attempt to block out the noise.

*Knock knock*

It’s louder this time, more determined, and you hear someone speak: “Y/N, it’s me. Please let me in.” He’s rambling a bit, he sounds tired as well. A shiver goes through your body at hearing his voice, his voice always seems to mess with your head in a way nothing else can.

“What are you doing here James? It’s 3 AM.” You ask, through the still closed door, your voice dripping with sleep. “Just, please, open the door..” He sounds desperate this time, so you decide to do what he asks. You stand up, maybe a little too fast, making your head spin, and walk towards the door. You open it, meaning to step aside to let him in, but when you see him illuminated by the hallway, you freeze. He’s bleeding, a cut starting at his nose and going diagonally underneath his eye, he’s straightened his glasses but there's a crack in them, another bruise at his temple, one on his lips, those soft lips you always think about, even a bruise below his ear on his cheek masking his jawline. “What in Merlin’s name happened to you?” You hear yourself whisper, more at yourself than him. “It’s nothing..” he slures out “.. just wanted to see you.” You move aside to let him into the empty room and he takes the opportunity, walking towards the bed, but not before grabbing you by your waist and giving you a quick, but passionate kiss. He takes you by surprise with it, your mind still trying to wrap around what happened, and your body falls into him, making him hiss from the cut on his upper lip, but he doesn't seem to want to stop regardless.

He sits down on your bed when he breaks the kiss, and you turn on the bedside lamp to get a better look at him. Small bruises are forming on his arms, and his muscles seem strained, his exhausted body melting into the bedding.

“Lay down, I’ll be right back.” you mumble at him before moving to the other side of your room where you left your wand. After a little searching, you find it, but with how tired you are, you’re not sure how much you trust yourself with it. You remember the small first aid kit in your bathroom, and move to get it before making your way back to James.

You see him struggling to take his jumper off, and move over to help him with it. Once it’s off he moves to lie down, and you put some extra pillows under his head, making him sit up a little more before pouring the sterilizer on a towel. You look over at him again, and wonder about how you’re going to do this, when you see him stretch his arm out to you. You take his hand and he pulls you onto his lap, making you straddle him and giving me the perfect position to patch him up.

You look at his chest, covered in blooming bruises, and when the towel hits the few open wounds, he groans a little, instinctively moving his hands to your hips to ground himself. His eyes are closed, and even though he looks like he should be in pain, he seems relaxed.

He stays quiet the whole time, only the occasional hiss or groan leaving him. And when you’re done, having put everything back in its proper place, he asks you silently: “Can I please stay over” “Of course you can, I’m not letting you wander back in this state.” you tell him while moving to lie down beside him. He doesn’t seem satisfied though, and pulls you in even closer.

After a few more minutes of silence, you ask him: “Jamie, what the hell happened to you..?” “It’s, it’s nothing, really, just-" He seems a little hesitant, so you wait for him to continue. “There, there were these guys…” He sounds a little angry, but you still don’t know what he’s talking about. “Do you remember the party that was going on, earlier tonight?” “Of course I do.” you tell him. You had gotten tired early, and decided to head to bed while the others stayed a while longer. “Well, turns out some of the Slytherins had noticed you, and they were talking about you.” He seems even angrier now, you remember this look, it’s similar to the look he got when he lost the Quidditch house cup, except this seems more personal somehow. “They were talking about you, telling their stuck-up friends all the things he would do to you- calling you names and saying how he-” you see him clench his fists, his knuckles turning white. “He was telling them how he would-, bloody hell, I can’t even get it out of my mouth. But I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I, well, I may have punched him.” “You did what?” you ask him, not fully wanting to believe what he’s telling you. Sure, he get detention often enough, but never for fist fights, he doesn't get in fist fights. “I punched him, and I got into a fight with him and his friends.” The hesitance is back now, replacing his anger. “I’m sorry y/n, but I couldn’t stand him saying those kinds of things about you.” You smile a little, and he looks confused. “You got into a fight to defend my honour, Potter?” Your smile only growing. He only nods and you don’t hesitate to lean in, kissing him softly. You can still taste the blood on his tongue, but you don’t care, and he doesn’t seem to either.

You shift over, and he pulls you in to straddle his lap once again. You give him a quiet “I love you” in between kisses. He doesn’t need to say it back this time, his actions having spoken louder than words.

[wintfleur]

can we have a blurb of stella and her siblings when there younger, maybe stella getting hurt?

ꔫ broken bratz dolls and hello kitty band-aids

°. — pairings ( Estella Hughes oc! X siblings! Hughes brothers )

°. — details ( g; fluff, little bit of angst, siblings being siblings. w; mentions of blood and sibling fights, Stella being the cutest, Jack just having a emotional moment, Luke being Stella’s protector, and Quinn being a tired big brother. wc; 2k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I love writing the Hughes sibling dynamic sm! Thank you for requesting, I really hope you guys enjoy this!! Please don’t be a silent reader, I love to hear your thoughts!! )

°. — ( Stella is 5, Luke is 6, Jack is 8, Quinn is 10 )

°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )

au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!

It was a regular day for the four Hughes siblings. The two eldest brothers were dressed in their favorite jerseys and hockey gear as they practiced shooting. The youngest brother was playing with his dump trucks in the dirt, and Stella was playing in the grass with her bratz dolls, she was wearing a pink sundress that matched with her cloe doll. Her hair was a mess, she had asked Luke to try to recreate the ponytails one of her dolls had with her hair. 

“And Jack Hughes scores” Jack cheers after his goal, a big smile on his lips and even though Quinn was annoyed that he scored on him the older brother couldn't help but smile too as Jack celebrates. Stella paid no attention to her cheering brother as she moved from the grass to the driveway, looking for the missing guitar for her doll. Her eyes light up when she sees it laying in the middle of the driveway, it must have fallen out of her basket when she ran from Luke who was chasing her with a handful of dirt earlier. 

“Watch my sick celly” Jack shouts at Quinn, holding his stick out and spinning around. The grin on Jack's face from scoring quickly vanishes at the horrifying sound of the toe of his hockey stick smacking against something as he spins around. Stella was so caught up in her own imagination to notice her brother and his stick until it's too late. Jack’s eyes widen in fear as he watches Stella fall back on her butt, the doll in her hands falling and breaking. Her favorite doll. 

Quinn and Luke's eyes are immediately drawn to the loud sound of the smack and their eyes widen at the sight of their little sister on the ground of the driveway and Jack standing in front of her with his hockey stick in the air. The three brothers watch as blood starts to drip down from her quivering lip and down her now red chin, her big brown eyes are immediately filled with tears that quickly roll down her face. She silently cried for a few seconds as she was still in shock, but her brothers watched as she brought her dirty hands to cover her bloody lip, loud sobs leaving her body. It happened so fast. 

Quinn immediately skated to her side, dropping down to his knees and trying to pry her dirty hands from her face. He muttered reassuring words to Stella, trying to convince her to move her hands so he could see but she just cried harder. Quinn looked at Jack who still stood there in shock, there was so much blood coming from her lip and dripping down her face and onto her pink dress, Quinn shouted at Jack to go get mom. 

Jack quickly nodded and dropped his stick, turning around and quickly skating towards the front door. Luke, who was watching the scene with a look of fear, turns into a look of anger as he drops his toy truck and rushes to his feet, a sound of surprise and pain leaving Jack's lips when he's jumped on from behind. Jack lets out a cry of pain when he feels his chin get cut on the driveway at the impact. 

“Get off me” Jack screeches at Luke, a shout of pain follows when Luke tugs on Jack's hair, his knee digging into his back. Quinn looks at his brothers in disbelief, yelling at them to stop. Luke, who was angry at Jack for hurting Stella, doesn't stop his attack. Stella starts to sob louder, absentmindedly leaning against Quinn as Jack and Luke continue to shout at each other. Quinn tries to calm Stella but he himself was getting overwhelmed, thankfully the shouts of Jack and Luke got the attention of their mother who was getting ready to start on dinner. 

 “What is going on here” Ellen shouted as she rushed out of the house, she left her children alone for 5 minutes to preheat the oven and she's welcomed back with a brawl. Ellen moves to her two youngest sons and pulls an angry Luke off a crying jack. “Luke, get off your brother now!” 

“Mom!” Quinn shouts her name to get her attention. Ellen looks away from her sons and a worried gasp leaves her lips at the sight of her bleeding and crying daughter. She rushes over to her only daughter; she didn't hear Stella's cries over her son's shouts. “It's okay, let me see” Ellen coos as she pulls Stella's hands from her face, Ellen holds in her wince at the sight and moves her hands under Stella's armpits to pick her up and bring her to her chest. 

“Inside you two, i expect a good explanation on what happened” Ellen scolds her two youngest boys as she rushes a still crying stella into the house. Quinn helps Jack up from the ground while a glaring Luke follows after Stella and their mom, Jack pushes Quinn's hand off him and quickly wipes off his tears before shouting at Quinn. “I’m a terrible brother! Luke and Stella hate me!”  

“They don't hate you” Quinn starts but before he could finish comforting his brother, Jack quickly skates off into the open garage, jack pressing on the button to close the garage behind him. Quinn sighs and takes off his skates before entering the house through the front door, he knows jack would need a moment to himself, he was an emotional boy. 

Quinn hears the sound of Stella's crying as he walks into the kitchen. Stella was sitting on the counter with Luke by her side, holding her hand while their mom stood in front of her and tried to clean the blood off her face so she could clean the cut and bandage it. Stella's eyes go to Quinn, and she immediately cries out for her big brother “Quinny it hurts.” 

“I know but moms gonna fix it all up and it won't hurt anymore” Quinn spoke softly as he moved to his mother's side, holding onto Stella's other hand. Stella squeezes her brother's hand tightly when Ellen starts to clean the cut. Stella sniffles and blinks away her tears “Promise?” 

“I promise” Quinn promises, softly squeezing her hand back. Ellen smiles proudly at her eldest child, before pulling out Stella's favorite band aids. Jack quietly walked into the kitchen, and he felt even more guilty as he watched his mom fix up Stella's lip and chin. He honestly didn't mean to hurt her, he would never! Jack makes eye contact with Luke who is already glaring at him. Yeah, he felt really guilty. 

Jim was not expecting this sight when he walked into the living room after he got home from work. It was oddly quiet in the house, and that was rare.  His four children were sitting side by side on the couch, Luke sat at the end of the couch with his arms crossed and a glare on his face. Sitting to his left was Stella, she was now in a new dress and her chin and lip was decorated with her favorite hello kitty band aids. 

On Stella's other side was Quinn who was holding her hand as she rested her head on his shoulder. Then there was Jack who sat on the other side of Quinn, his arms were crossed as well as he angrily looked down at his socks. Jack, who looked up once his dad walked into the living room could be seen with a pink hello kitty band aid on his chin. 

“What's going on here?” Jim asked his wife and children, moving to stand by his wife's side. Ellen was standing in front of their children, just finished questioning their kids about what had occurred outside. Ellen greeted her husband with a smile and crossed her arms as she looked back at her kids “Why don't you guys tell your father what happened, hmm.” 

None of the kids spoke up, Quinn sat there as still as a statue as Stella snuggled closer to him and hid her face in his shoulder. Luke kept on giving Jack the side eye with a glare on his face and Jack refused to look up from his dinosaur patterned sock covered feet. Ellen sighed and tilted her head to look at her husband, telling him what had happened between their children. 

“Luke, why did you hit your brother?” Jim questioned his youngest son, crossing his arms as well. It wasn't like Luke to start fights with his siblings, especially physical ones. Jack rolled his eyes while Quinn turned his head to look at his youngest brother, curious on what he was going to say. Luke sent jack an accusatory glare before looking up at his parents “He made stella cry and break her doll.” 

Jack's jaw and fists clench as he listens to Luke retell the story of him hitting Stella with his stick, he felt tears of anger form in his eyes the more Luke talked. Jack couldn't hold it in anymore, he jumped to his feet and shouted out emotionally “It was an accident” Jack continued to speak loudly as fresh tears rolled down his face, his fists clenched at his side “I didn't mean to hurt you stella! I’m really sorry, and I’m sorry i broke your doll ⸺ I’ll sell all my toys and get you a new one!” 

Luke and Quinn’s eyes widened at their brother's outburst, and Luke started to feel guilty as he watched his older brother break down. Ellen moved to step towards Jack so she could comfort her son, her heart hurting at the sight of him crying so hard. But before Ellen could reach out to pull Jack into her arms, someone beat her to it. 

The rest of the family watched as Stella tried her best to wrap her arms around Jack's waist, resting her chin on Jack's chest and looking up at him with her brown doe eyes. Jack was quick to hug her back tightly as she spoke in her soft voice “It’s okay jacky i know you didn't mean to, please don't cry.” 

Quinn nudged Luke's shoulder causing the youngest brother to give him an annoyed look. Quinn mouthed at Luke to apologize to Jack, Luke huffed before he got off the couch and moved over to his brother and sister, Quinn rolling his eyes at Luke's dramatics. Luke lets out a loud groan and opens his mouth to complain when Jack pulls him into joining their hug but closes his mouth at the look Stella gave him before she turned her head to Quinn, her eyes begging him to join their group hug. 

Quinn shakes his head no, but he lets out a defeated sigh and stands up once Stella pulls out her signature move of her puppy dog eyes and quivering lip. Stella smiles triumphantly and pulls her eldest brother into the hug, smiling happily at the feeling of her and Jack being smushed into the middle of the hug. 

“So, you and Luke don't hate me?” Jack asks but it comes out muffled since his face was being smushed into Quinn's chest. Stella giggles and luke shakes his head, luke mumbles “I don't hate you jack, but you said to beat up anyone who makes stell cry” Stella moves her head from luke’s chest and gives jack a toothy smile “I don't hate you jacky, but you have to get me a new dress too!” 

Ellen smiles and leans against her husband's side, the parents watching as their kids continue to hug and listen as Stella excitedly talks about the new pink dress she wanted. Ellen kisses Jim’s cheek and whispers “C’mon let's go finish up dinner” the parents leave the living room, but none of the kids notice, they were too caught up in their new conversation. 

Jim and Ellen finished making the family their dinner as they listened to their children talk and laugh from the living room, grateful to be raising such good children.

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I LOVE THEM SM, please tell my what you like the most? )

°. — taglist ( @privatemythss @juraj-slafkovsky @cixrosie @toasttt11 )

[captainfern]

HEY!! I saw that your requests are open, I have a filthy idea🤭 *rubs hands together smiling smugly*

You and price went out on a mission together, you ended it quickly and safe, but the evac will only arrive in the morning. so you search for a safe house and you settle down for the night. there's nothing to do so you suggest a sparring session to practice. you start, and after a while he gets you in a chokehold, you squirm and try to free yourself but he doesn't let go. suddenly he release the grip on you. then you turn around and you see why he let get rid of his arms. in practice he got excited and he could not resist more. after a moment of realization and serious eye contacts, you ask him if he need some help. he gets the best head he ever received in his life

Milk It

Captain John Price x fem!reader

["Milk It" by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - what the ask says. you give price head lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 2.5k • warnings - fem!reader, oral [m!receiving], praise, implied age gap, price is a bit whiney in this ngl, strong language

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You were panting and slick with sweat by the time you reconvened with Price. He was hunkering down amongst the ruins of a blown-up house, shouting into his comms over the distant rumble of explosives.

You sank down beside him, back to the stone wall and knee brushing against his. You tried to calm your breathing as beside you, Price wrapped up the conversation and flicked his comms off. He turned to you, resting a hand across one of your knees.

"Evac can only make it into the area at six tomorrow morning, n' that's the earliest," Price said, patting your knee. "We'll find a safe-house a few miles from here and camp out. Sound good?"

You nodded as he retracted his hand from you, gripping his gun as he got to his feet. He offered you his hand and you took it, allowing him to hoist you off the ground. You grabbed a hold of your gun as well and, ducking to avoid any stray enemy fire, you and Price departed from the crumbling stone walls of the old house.

An hour or so later, the two of you stumbled into a small cottage. It was cozy, with a cramped kitchen but a cute, warm living area. There were two other doors, with one leading into a particularly small bathroom and the other leading into the only bedroom of the safe-house.

But you were too tired to do any complaining.

Gratefully, you dumped your bag and assault rifle by the door, crossing the hardwood floor and falling face-first onto the plush couch. You groaned in contempt as you finally rested your aching bones. Price huffed a laugh at you as he closed and locked the door.

"And you call me the old man?" Price stated, also placing his pack and gun beside the door. "You're the one with aching bones, kid."

You groaned at him, voice muffled against the couch cushions. Since he had no idea what you said, you simply stretched out an arm and flipped him off. He just laughed at you.

"We've got a bit of time to kill," Price said, taking off his bulletproof vest. "What're we gonna do, eh?"

You sighed as you sat up, slouching. "Please don't suggest boardgames."

Price laughed again, low in his chest. He stood behind the couch, hands braced against the back as you rolled over and stared up at him.

"I wasn't going to suggest boardgames," Price said. "What about we have a little spar, eh?"

"I'm tired, Price." You grumbled.

"Just a quick session, I promise," He clapped his hands together. "And if you manage to get me to the ground, you can relax as much as you want. Deal?"

You got to your feet, rounding the couch. He stuck his hand out and you fought a smile as you shook it. "Deal," you nodded.

•º•

Twenty minutes later, you and Price were at the back of the cottage in the small, fenced-in garden. It was slightly overgrown, but had a short patch of clover in the middle– soft enough to act as a landing mat for when, as Price joked, he "slammed your tired arse onto the ground."

You replied with a smile and a sweet "fuck off, old man."

Now, though, you and Price circled each other for the fifth time. The first five times, you had been unsuccessful in getting your captain to the floor. The first and second round, you were slammed flat on your back, the air knocked from your lungs as Price chuckled above you. The third and forth time, both you and Price tripped each other over, tumbling to the ground, elbowing each other in the ribs in the process. He claimed it didn't count because you technically didn't get him to the ground on purpose.

So, fifth time's the charm, you thought.

Price was panting slightly. "This time, yeah?"

You felt sticky with a thin layer of sweat. "Shut up."

You lunged for him, right arm flying towards his face. He blocked it, while your left fist slammed into his stomach. He grunted, blocking a few more punches you threw at him, before he managed to take hold of both your wrists, throwing you backwards.

You stumbled, but maintained your footing. However, Price was on you in an instant– sweeping your legs from under you, sending you falling. You hit the patch of soft clover, cursing at him loudly. He grinned down at you, hands on his hips, breathing heavily.

"Too easy." He remarked.

You scowled, bouncing to your feet. You quite literally launched yourself up and at him– arms winding around his shoulders and pushing him backwards. He let out a shout of surprise as he fell flat on his back. Victorious grin etched on your face, you straddled his midriff and held a pretend knife to his throat. He rolled his eyes.

"Try better." He grumbled, bucking you off him.

"What the–?" You found yourself rolling along the clover as Price crawled after you, pinning you to the ground with one large hand to the top of your chest.

You tried to wriggle free, managing to get onto your hands and knees. You laughed as you crawled away, feeling rather juvenile, before he grabbed you by the ankle and dragged you backwards. You flailed an arm backwards, slapping him across the chest, laughing at his disgruntled facial expression, before the arm that was holding your ankle was suddenly around your neck.

"Jesus–!" You squealed as your body lurched, and you were pinned to Price's body, arse against his lap.

He had you in a fucking headlock.

Literally what the hell.

You squirmed against him, arms prying at the strong muscle of his forearm. Your lower half pressed against him, bumping against his lower torso as you attempted to slip out of his hold.

"Price, oh my god, let me go," you groaned, slapping his arm. "This is so embarrassing. I get it, you won, again."

He didn't reply. You couldn't turn your head to gage his expression, either, still pinned to his side.

"Price?" You voiced, arse backing against his lower abdomen again.

Then, you heard a gruff exhale of breath. Then, a soft, "Bloody hell."

You blinked, breathing laboured. "Um, Price? Can you let me go?"

He released you immediately. You sighed, flopping down onto the soft clover. Then, you picked yourself up, turning to face him.

Your eyes widened. Price was sitting on his knees, hunched over and breathing hard. You were about to ask what was wrong, when you noticed his palm pressed to the front of his cargos. He muttered something indistinct under his breath.

"Oh my god..." You whispered.

He was fucking hard.

A part of you wanted to laugh. But when he met your eyes, his own filled with flashing desire, you couldn't help but bite your lip.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry," he grumbled. "I don't... shit, I'm just gonna go–"

He got up and headed for the cottage. Shocked, you quickly followed him. Once inside, you managed to get a hand on his shoulder, and force him to turn around.

"Price," you whispered, running your hands along his broad shoulders. He tensed under your touch. "You don't have to be embarrassed."

He shook his head, cheeks slightly pink and still sheened in a thin layer of sweat. "No, I'm sorry. I've no idea why this is happening."

You allowed yourself to smile at the bashful tone that had overtaken your captain. He was finding it hard to meet your eyes, head bowed slightly as he tried to calm his breathing. His hand was still shielding his crotch from your vision, but you knew.

"Do... do you want me to take care of it?"

He snapped his gaze at you. "Absolutely not. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable–"

"What if I want too?" You said, trying to ignore the way the look on his face was making you insanely horny. "What if I want to help you?"

He groaned. Deep, rich and so fucking hot you could've moaned right then and there. He inclined his head back slightly, hand pressing tighter into the bulge in his pants. Then, he looked at you, eyes hooded. You stared back as confidently as you could.

"You sure?" He whispered.

You licked your lips. "Mhm."

"Oh, fucking hell." He uttered, voice straining with a restricted whine.

You smiled as your hands gently brushed his aside, beginning to unbuckle his belt.

"Where d'you want me?" He whispered, forehead coming to rest against yours. He was warm.

You unbuckled his belt. "Couch."

He obliged: walking backwards until the backs of his knees hit the couch. He sat down, right on the edge, and spread his legs so that you could situate yourself on your knees inbetween.

He groaned at the sight, while you made quick work of unzipping his cargos and shimmying them down his thick thighs. You took a moment to admire the muscle. You wanted to just sink your teeth into them, but you refrained. Later, you thought.

Instead, you turned your attention to his painfully hard cock being restricted by his black boxers. You trailed your fingertips along the imprint, and he let out a low sound, watching you with his mouth slightly open and his eyelids fluttering.

"All because you got me in a headlock, eh, cap?" You mused, trailing your fingers over the waistband and up the line of hair of his happy-trail. "Kinky."

He rumbled something deep in his throat in answer. You smiled sweetly at him, tucking your fingers into the waistband of his underwear and pulling them down his thighs. Cock free, you tried not to act insane at the way it had your cunt dripping into your own underwear.

Before you got too distracted, you wrapped one hand around the base, shuffling your body closer. Price automatically choked on a gasp, shooting a large hand down to hold the back of your head.

"Bloody hell, love." He moaned.

Your cunt now had a heartbeat. Oh my god–

You pooled saliva in your mouth, you pressed a gentle kiss to the tip, working your hand around the base of him. As he released a deep groan, you let your saliva drool from between your lips and onto his cock. You quickly followed the action, enveloping the tip with your lips.

He bucked his hips, a muted whine dislodging from his throat. “Fucking hell, love.”

You hummed at him, working the saliva around his cock with your lips and tongue, slowly lowering your mouth. You continued to work the base of his cock with your hand, movements slick with your spit.

The hand he had on the back of your head was a firm but gentle pressure. He didn't force you onto him, simply guiding you up and down, his hips jolting upwards periodically, chasing the heat of your mouth.

You traced a prominent vein on the underside of his cock with the flat of your tongue, and he moaned above you, head flopping back against the backrest of the couch. The sound made you moan, the vibrations causing Price to curse, dropping his head forward again, looking down at you with half-open eyes. You met his stare, doe eyes, sparkling with tears as you took him all the way to the back of your mouth, tip nudging the curve of your throat.

"So good. Doing so good," Price mumbled, moving his free hand around to press his thumb to the corner of your mouth. "Taking my cock so good."

He pressed his thumb past your lips, already stretched taut around his length. You whined at him as his thumb pushed in alongside his cock, pressing against your tongue. Saliva pooled, escaping the corners of your mouth, dribbling down your chin. It would have been a lot more embarrassing if Price didn't whisper, "that's my good girl" and drag his thumb out of your mouth, smearing your saliva across your face.

He continued to cradle your face with his hand, now sticky with your saliva, as you sucked him deeper. He responded with deep grunts from the depth of his chest, bucking his hips to meet the movements of your mouth.

"S-shit, love, fuck–" He gasped as you took him as deep as you could, nose pressed to the hair on his pelvis, gagging at his tip slamming against the back of your throat. "M'gonna– mmm-fuck– m'gonna cum, love, m'gonna cum."

He sounded so whiney. So fucking desperate.

His grip tightened on the back of your head and for the first time since you started sucking his cock, he really did push you. He gripped you, almost tight enough to hurt, and thrust you further down with a loud groan. You gagged around him, saliva making a mess on his lap. His thighs flexed beside your head as his hips jerked upwards, rutting his cock into your mouth over and over again as he neared his high.

He wanted to cum in your mouth. That was obvious. Obvious by the way he whispered your name over and over again, a muted moan escaping his lips as he made you take more and more of his cock in your warm mouth.

You weren't complaining. Your cunt, however, was– dripping, aching for him. You adjusted your position, rocking yourself lightly onto your heel. You let out a low whine around his cock.

"Yeah, that's it, that's it," Price uttered. "Good girl, love, such a good girl. Yeah, fuck, my good girl, taking my cock so good– fuck."

He locked your head in place, cock nestled deep in your throat as he came in hot spurts that made your eyes roll to the back of your head. He moaned your name, rich and dripping lust above you, as he filled your mouth. He came a lot, you noticed, as you gently pulled off his cock, and it leaked out of your mouth, rolling in pearls down his semi-hard length.

You rested your head against his bare thigh, enjoying the warmth of the hard muscle beneath your cheek, still holding his cock at the base. The coarse hair on his thighs tickled your flushed skin. You gave in to your earlier desires, skimming your teeth along the pale flesh, sucking your mouth to the skin with a satisfied hum.

Above you, Price delicately stroked your head, your hair, blinking lazily down at you with a fucked-out expression plastered on his face. His cheeks were dusted pink, his chest rising and falling as if he had only just stopped sparring.

You pulled your mouth away with a small bite. "Told you I'd help you."

He breathed out a laugh, other hand stroking your face. The lower half of it was tacky with your saliva and splatters of his cum.

"Always such a good girl for your captain." He whispered.

You nipped at his inner thigh again, and his breath hitched.

"Always," you whispered back. "Now, captain, if you don't mind me asking..."

He cocked an eyebrow at you, tracing a circle on your cheek with his thumb. "Hm?"

You battered your eyelashes at him. "Can you cum inside me next?"

His mouth dropped open. "Oh, fucking hell–"

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[zvdvdlvr]

Hi there, friend . Please write if you have time a Soap, Ghost, Price, Alejandro, and Konig headcanons about a male partner with really big veiny hands.Hope you have a pleasent day or night .

- 141, alejandro, and könig with a male partner with large hands

☆ - warnings :: some nsfw topics, coarse language, neck snapping, features sub!könig, usual call of duty violence, male reader, short HCs,

☆ - characters :: john "soap" mactavish, simon "ghost" riley, captain john "bravo six" price, alejandro vargas, könig

☆ - k.j.'s diary says... i haven't written for CoD that much so i apologize for any inaccuracies or any out of character-ness.

kyle "gaz" garrick

SLUT ME OUT, SLUT ME OUT, SLUT-SLUT-SLUT ME OUT

bro was flabberghasted when he saw you gloveless- like, yes, he knows your hands are huge because of how easily you handle massive weapons but god almighty kyle almost started drooling when he saw you flex your hand while stretching your arm

silently admires the way you move in battle, your melee attacks, hand-to-hand, etc.

when you are dating, gaz for sure hints at his attraction to your hands if that wasn't obvious

gets turned on when you pin him to the ground while sparring and it shows

goes off on tangents about your hands when drunk

"they just- *hiccup* -they look so good, y'know? they'd look really nice around my ne-neck" (bro was passed out not even half an hour after saying this)

simon "ghost" riley

encourages you to snap someone's neck while out on the field

"christ, y/l/n" ghost (the first time he saw you do that

was drinking tea the first time he got a hood look at your bare hands

needless to say, tea was spilled in simon's lap

when you're together simon would come up with all these bullshit reasons to see your bare hands

not really into being choked, but would love watching you choke someone out

would ask you if you could choke-slam people

the answer was yes

simon loves being flipped off by you idk he thinks its hot

i like to think that while off duty simon can be a little bitch sometimes so whenever he turns around to go sulk he LOVES when you grab onto his belt loop or whatever and turn his ass around

captain john "bravo six" price

tried to keep his cool

also kept really quiet about his feelings

like

quiet.

loves holding your hand when off duty

so let's say price is the typa guy to enjoy back hugs? even better when he looks down to see your hands wrapped around his middle

has you demonstrate ways to snap/break necks to the newbies while watching with absolute adoration

did i mention price loves hand holding? i did? ok well just reminding you

u dont have to have big hands to know john loves kissing you with one of your hands in his hair and another tugging his belt loop so he's closer to you. hawt.

john "soap" mactavish

smiles widely while watching you snap someone's neck like it's nothing

doesn't even care if you choke him out if you did at least it's by your hands

choking kink question mark exclamation point

loves getting neck/upper back massages (non sexually you pervs) especially after a long day

a true simp.

will praise you till the end of time no matter how many war crimes you commit on the field

johnny likes when you help him trim/maintain his hair

it's such an intimate thing for him and the fact that you're helping take care of something so personal to johnny makes his heart swell

alejandro vargas.

will absolutely bring attention to the fact that your hands are massive

wolf whistles, even.

alejandro thinks it's the greatest thing ever making you flush

absolutely gushes to rudy about it

ok so now ur in a relationship:

ONE TIME alejandro was getting a bit too big for his britches so you stalked up to him and grasped his neck lightly. (if ur taller than him is what im imagining but wtv) ale was turned on

always wants to be touching you or you touching him

when he has free time he'll come find you, cuddle, play with your fingers while tou watch a movie or something

thinks about you jerking him off when you're both in a meeting or in a semi-public space

practically sings praises about how he loveloveloves your hands

könig

ok if your hands are larger than his than yes bro would pass tf out when he realized

would be very quiet about his attraction to your hands but his obvious staring spoke volumes

would immediately want to be slutted out when you had sex with him

plays with your hands when he's bored or really anxious

REALLY into you holding him by his neck and showing you how much he wants to be taken care of

loves when you tend to any sore muscles or wounds

honestly könig wants a simple, domestic life with all of the things hes seen

HAND HOLDING IS A MUST‼

watches you disassemble, clean, and reassemble guns like you didn't have ur fingers in his mouth the night before with a lopsided smile

you both spar together, learning from each other and being the duo that no other trio or group want to fight

together, you both are unstoppable. the admiration and personal connection you both have baffles many

[exhaslo]

omg omg please please please make a part 2 to the bully!Miguel Ohara x ghost person I’m begging u it was so amazing and majestic pleaseeeee 🙏🙏🙏

Haha, sure thing!

Part One

Warning: Minors DNI, Smut, oral (f-receiving), praise kink, soft!dom!Miguel, window sex

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Miguel swore he saw red after he left your dorm. He immediately went down to the mailroom and tracked the men who bullied you. Miguel had to make a point across this campus. Only he could bully others and no one was allowed to touch you. You belonged to Miguel and he needed to make that a stronger point.

Miguel remembered the first time he saw you. He was in the middle of putting some wannabe freshmen in their place when you ran by. You had a panicked look on your face, muttering something about being late to class. Miguel was in awe over you, while his friends claimed that they saw a ghost wearing all white.

It didn't hit him then, but when he kept hearing about the ghost, he knew it was you. Miguel tried to find you afterwards. He wanted to get to know you. But, like the rumors said, you were a ghost. You appeared then disappeared in a matter of seconds. It was like a game of cat and mouse.

Eventually, Miguel found your dorm. It took him longer to try and talk to you and he was glad he did. Miguel had no idea how much being called a ghost hurt you. He didn't want to hear you cry. Knowing his own reputation, Miguel thought of an idea to help you.

"There you are," Miguel spat with venom in each word.

"Ah! It's Miguel!" One of the boys yelled.

Miguel had grabbed the two by the collars and dragged them to a quieter part of the campus. He threw them against the wall and hissed lowly, cracking his knuckles. They hurt his girl. They made you cry. Miguel was going to send a message with theses two.

"Don't. EVER. Touch. The. Ghost. AGAIN." Miguel yelled.

----------

You whimpered quietly under your blanket as you waited for Miguel to return. He looked so mad when he left. Rubbing your shoulders, you slowly made your way to the shower. You wanted to know how Miguel was doing, but you were also afraid of burdening him. He left to take care of a problem because of you.

"H-How can I make them...not see me as a ghost?" You whispered, washing yourself off.

-----------

Miguel spit towards the ground, rubbing the blood off his knuckles. He wiped his hands with one of the other guy's jackets before checking his phone. It was late. You were probably already in bed or locked away in your room for the rest of the day. Miguel sighed softly as he thought of your tears.

'Are you still up?' Miguel sent you a text.

'Yes.' You replied. Miguel smiled softly, making his way to your dorm already,

'Can I stop by? Or do I need to make an appointment with the oh so popular ghost?' He teased her, knowing that she could laugh towards him.

'I suppose I can squeeze you in.'

Miguel hurried to your dorm, wanting to make sure you were truly okay. He waited to sneak in and rushed up the stairs. You were in a girls only dorm and Miguel had to make sure that he did not get caught. It was a good thing you had your own private room. No roommates to walk in and perfect time for Miguel to give you some much needed praise.

Miguel nearly drooled as you quickly pulled him inside. You were wearing such a loose and see-through pajama dress. It was no wonder people called you a ghost. Miguel groaned softly as he pulled you by the waist, planting you on the bed. He threw his jacket across the room and hovered over you,

"How beautiful," He whispered, watching you fluster, "Such a pretty ghost and all for me."

"Y-You know...T-This ghost...has been thinking a lot...about earlier. C-Could you...maybe...y-you know...e-exorcise me?" You whispered, trying to play along.

"Fuck, you asked for this."

Miguel groaned as he captured your lips in a deep kiss. His hands trailing against your skin while he positioned himself between your legs. You whimpered lowly as Miguel grew a little more forceful. He licked your lips, sliding his tongue into your mouth for dominance. His hands then groped your breasts, giving them plenty of squeezes and pinches.

You muffled a moan, trying to break free for air. Miguel complied, his lips now attacking your neck as he started to rut against you. You gasped, moaning softly as you started to grow hot. Recalling what Miguel did earlier made you wetter. Miguel licked his lips as he removed your night gown, staring at your body in awe,

"So this ghost wants to be cleansed?" Miguel said with a dark chuckle, "Such a good girl, why don't I start with what we did earlier?"

You bit your lower lip, slowly spreading your legs for Miguel. He groaned in response, holding your legs in place for a moment. Admiring the view, Miguel removed your panties along with his pants. He leaned his head down and just blew against your sensitive bud.

"M-Mig-"

"Good girl. You're doing so well for me,"

Miguel brought his tongue against your clit, rubbing circles around it. He felt your body twitch with each movement, enjoying the sound of your moans. Miguel held your hips down as you tried to ride his face. Your cute little whines were fueling him. Bringing his tongue to your aching hole, Miguel decided to feast.

You arched your back, moaning loudly as Miguel's tongue swirled against your insides. You tried to cover your mouth, afraid of others hearing you. Never had you been this loud. Never did you think you could ever be this loud. Miguel was making you feel new things.

"Don't hide your voice. I want to hear it."

You gasped, cumming against his face as he spoke. The vibration of his mouth sent shivers up your spine. You tried to catch your breathe and squirm out of his grip, but Miguel kept you in place and kept licking your juices. His tongue swirled against each fold and back up to your clit, overstimulating you.

"M-Mig..."

"You did so good for me. Now, why don't we officially cleanse this ghost?"

You nearly felt your heart leap out of your chest as you saw Miguel spring his dick out. He was so big and long! Honestly, you were scared. Miguel saw your nervousness and began kissing you again. He left soft kisses against your body. You trembled against his touch and gasped lowly as you felt him slowly push his tip inside you.

"Doing so good for me, baby. What a good ghost you are. Allowing me to fuck you this good. Does my little ghost like this?"

"Y-Yes!" You wrapped your arms and legs around Miguel, feeling yourself being split in half, "I-It hurts...a little,"

"Don't worry, it's only for a minute. I promise to make my ghost feel good. You're doing so so well for me,"

Each word made your brain flutter. It was like fireworks going off. Soon enough, your gummy walls were sucking Miguel's dick for more. He was so deep inside of you that you felt full. Miguel grunted softly in your ear before he slowly pulled out, leaving you feeling empty. Before you could whine, he slapped himself back inside you.

"AH~ MIGUEL~!" You cried out, feeling full again.

Miguel inhaled deeply to your cries. His shy little ghost was screaming his name as he pounded your pussy. You were whining and moaning under him, your pussy gushing against his cock. Miguel held you up, getting an idea. He placed you against your window, looking down at the lively campus below.

"Maybe this will have them learn a lesson. You're not a ghost, but my girl," He whispered in your ear.

"S'much. N-Not...here....A-Ah~" You moaned as Miguel pressed you against the window.

You felt yourself drifting off. All you could really think about was Miguel's dick destroying your pussy. His rough thrusts kissing your cervix each time made your brain melt. You were becoming a moaning mess as you just thought of his dick.

"Such a good girl. You keep sucking me back in, desperate for me. What a good ghost you are." Miguel praised, kissing the back of your neck.

"Y-Yes~ S'good. I-I'm y-your...ah~ g-ghost~" You whimpered, feeling yourself about to cum again.

Miguel tighten his grip around your wait, watching the campus below. Of course no one was going to see them and if they did, they just claim ghost again. Grunting as you cam against his dick once more. Miguel hurried his pace, he kissed your head, pressing you against the window more. With one more thrust, he filled your womb with his cum,

"There...no more ghost," Miguel panted softly. He pulled out and sat you on his lap, "You did so good. Does your voice hurt?" He asked since you normally never yelled.

"Mhm," You nuzzled your head against his shoulder, "I don't think...this ghost...has learned her lesson....yet,"

Miguel just chuckled lowly, slowly sliding you down against his dick once more. Your soft moans causing him to groan in response. You wrapped your arms around his neck, whining as he slowly thrusted into you, pushing his cum back inside your womb.

"From now on, you're going to stay by my side. I don't want anyone to bully you again," Miguel kissed your head. You held onto him, moaning as you bounced against his dick,

"B-But we...ah~ l-live in separate d-dorms,"

"I live alone. Come stay with me. I'll make sure to take good care of the campus ghost."

"I-I won't be much o-of hah~ ah~ a g-ghost t-then~"

"Then they'll just have to know you as my girl," Miguel watched as you cam against him once more, "That you're my good girl," He stroked your hair before giving you another fill of him,

"B-But-"

"If not, then I think this campus can use two ghosts."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed this! Kinda just made this up on the spot ;)

[runnning-outof-time]

Congrats on your huge milestone, K! You deserve it as so much more.

Can I request Tommy with 11. “Isn’t it beautiful out here?"?

I can't wait to see what you come up with.

Congrats again 🎊🎉✨

Thanks so much, Ace!! I hope you like what I’ve done with this one — of course I couldn’t help but use a gif from this scene! Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

A Clear Mind On A Cool Day

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: none … maybe Tommy being ooc, but who cares, right?

Word Count: 790

Summary: Tommy is able to clear his mind as he spends some time outside with his family.

Tommy eased himself down onto the chair, tipped his head back and almost immediately closed his eyes. He could hear his children playing nearby. The sounds of their excited screams added to the relaxing atmosphere. For the first time in a while, Tommy was calm.

He was sitting this exact same way when (Y/N) approached him some time later. A smile formed on her face as she stopped beside him. “Hi, Tommy,” she said softly, wanting him to know she was there before she gently placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Hi,” he responded in a whisper, not opening his eyes because he knew who it was from touch and voice alone. Instead, he brought his hand up to rest it on hers.

“Isn’t it beautiful out here?” (Y/N) asked as she moved to sit in her own chair.

“It is,” Tommy responded, sucking in a deep breath, loving the crispness of the autumn air. It did wonders in helping him clear his mind.

“How long have the children been playing?” she asked another question, finding her two boys in the middle of grabbing piles of fallen leaves and throwing them up in the air.

“For some time,” he couldn’t give a definitive answer. For once, (Y/N) didn’t mind it. “James came out first. He sat with me until Jacob came out, and then they both went to play with the leaves.”

(Y/N) nodded her head even though she knew Tommy couldn’t see her. She continued watching her children, basking in the comfortable silence that had fallen around her and her husband. If only every day could be like this, she thought to herself. She yearned for calm, domestic family moments like this one. She savored them when they happened because they were few and far between due to her husband’s business endeavors.

“Thank you for taking the day off,” (Y/N) broke the silence as she looked over at her husband again.

Her words made him open his eyes and look at her. He noticed her soft smile. Seeing it made the corners of his lips turn upwards. God, he needed to take more days off.

A cool breeze blew through the trees then, shaking the remaining leaves and making some of them fall to the ground. This made the two, young boys shriek in excitement as they ran to catch them. It also made (Y/N) shiver involuntarily. She silently cursed herself for forgetting her sweater inside.

“Cold?” Tommy questioned after he noticed his wife’s reaction to the wind.

“I should’ve brought a sweater with me,” she indirectly answered his question, a sheepish smile on her face.

“C’mere,” he ignored her sheepishness, tilting his head to the side as he gestured for her to come over.

(Y/N) didn’t need to be told twice. She stood up with a smile and made her way over to the chair Tommy was sitting on. She sat herself down sideways on his lap and nestled her face into the crook of his neck. Warmth overcame her instantly. She was jealous of how Tommy radiated so much heat, but it gave her the excuse to always cuddle closer to him on the colder days and nights….so really she couldn’t complain too much.

“Better?” he asked once she was settled on his lap.

“Yes,” she nodded the best she could with her head on his chest. “Although the arm of the chair is digging into my back slightly,” she pointed out a small gripe, her lips curving into a smile as Tommy shook his head and chuckled.

“Try not to lean against it then, love,” he proposed a solution. (Y/N) wiggled slightly to get away from the chair’s metal arm, so much so that Tommy was able to bring one of his arms around her back while the other draped loosely over her legs.

“Better,” she affirmed once she was comfortable. “And much warmer too,” she added, lifting her head to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Good,” Tommy hummed, tipping his head back so that he could close his eyes again. He reveled in the comfortable silence and the cool air, his mind completely clear and now focused on the feeling of his lady sitting close to him.

The couple stayed in that spot until the sun started to set. James and Jacob came running over then, effectively distrubing the silence, but not completely taking away from the peaceful feeling that had encapsulated their parents.

The family decided to go inside then so that they could get ready for dinner. As Tommy walked hand in hand with (Y/N), he silently said a ‘thank you’ for the ability to have a clear mind on a cool day.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @dlmlufics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[koolades-world]

Can you please do headcanons on an MC who always find themselves in the craziest hiding spots

Some examples are somehow they can find themselves on a roof of a building when there’s literally no way to get up there or they somehow get on a chandelier that’s in the middle of the ceiling and also impossible to get to

You just find them somehow on a window edge that’s literally way up high on the wall and there’s no ladder, no magic that can be detected, and literally no one should have been able to help you get up there either

It’s literally impossible to get up there

But MC, in their (stupid) brilliance, found a way

MC doesn’t know how to get down though so their only solution is “jump and hope someone catches me”

MC never shares how they get to those impossible places and no one ever catches them getting to the spot no matter how hard they try

haha hi! yes of course :)

i think i did something kinda like this? honestly i'm not sure so if i did, we have two now!! i think what i did was just mc who likes hide and seek

edit: i literally did this before haha. tumblr has been doing this thing where it will duplicate an ask i already did and i've caught it a few times, but not today so oops! haha

enjoy <3

Mc who hides in crazy hide and seek spots

Lucifer

he's very concerned for your wellbeing

less worried about how you got there and more worried about how you plan to get down

after hearing that you don't really know how and are just hoping for the best he freaks out

he knows one of his brothers will always be around to catch you if you fall but that doesn't stop him from worrying

Mammon

equally as worried as lucifer, if not more

hide and seek kind of stresses him out a little because he knows he'll have to find and catch you

he always does and will but it's just the act that worries him

he even has a pillow he carries around with him if he needs to place it under you to soften your fall, but he's never needed it

Levi

he always wonders how you get up there

do you teleport or something??

he tries to catch you off guard to see if he can see you headed up but never can

he won't question you but that doesn't stop him from thinking of all the ways you might be able to get up there

Satan

he's very curious on how you get up there

to the point where he sets up secret cameras pointed at the places he knows you've been in before

mysterious though, something always goes wrong with them and he only ever see you on the ground, then in the spot, no inbetween

but, these cameras do let him get some great blackmail for his brothers haha

Asmo

he thinks when you hide up high, you could get some super cute pictures of him

y'know like a perspective thing. must be on .5 haha

he also takes pictures of you to match for his devilgram

he keeps every picture of you because you look cute in every single one of then!

Beel

by far the most chill about it

he's a little worried but he knows you're having fun

he doesn't want to stop you from enjoying yourself

but he does make you promise to never get yourself into a situation you could get hurt in, and hopes you're true to your word

Belphie

he's the insane one who hides with you

or, well, tries is the key word

it's become a friendly competition to see who can hide in a crazier spot

spoiler alert: he hasn't managed to beat you yet haha