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cerisereids · 2 days

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a/n: having a lot of thoughts about beefy dad bod hotch thanks very much to this post from @jaden-treesters and the reblog tags that came along with it (specifically from what @hotchfiles said about him gaining weight i took that and ran)

warnings: there’s some discussion of body insecurities so don’t read if that’s triggering for you!

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

during his time at the bureau, aaron hotchner has put on a few pounds, 'beefed up' as rossi and morgan like to tell him. he knows it's natural. he's a father, he's incredibly busy, bodies change. it happens. knowing that still doesn't stop the feeling of dread creeping through his stomach, all the way through to his chest, wrapping itself around his throat when he sees how tight his shirts have been fitting lately. he's never been a fashion guru, that much is for certain, but he notices the ways in which the cotton hugs certain parts of his body he'd rather kept hidden. the way his arms bulge in the fabric, the fullness of his tummy showing through the pudge that flows just slightly over the waist of his pants. natural or not, it makes him a little insecure, knowing that he shows signs of aging in such a way. he doesn't have much time to feel too bad, though, not with you around.

you meet him in the conference room one cozy morning. it's early, before the rest of your coworkers show up, one thing you and your workaholic boyfriend have in common. he sees the way your eyes light up when you see him, and he can't miss the way your eyes hungrily trail down his body. he grows self conscious for a moment, trying to hide that extra pudge by holding a case file in front of his tummy. you will be having none of that, though, and he should've known. it's not long until you've crossed the room entirely, hands flying over every inch of his softness. the warmth from your hands spreads through his body, coating his skin in a sugary sweet warmth he hadn't allowed himself to feel before he met you. the sweetness of your touch distracts him so much that it takes him a moment to register the feeling of your warm, wet lips following in the wake of your hands. you're kissing everywhere you can, his suit jacket long forgotten on the floor. his eyes close as your lips trail down his arms, focusing heavily on his biceps, your hands squeezing and rubbing over the fabric. you unbutton only the top button on his dress shirt, kissing his chest and neck there while your hands untuck the shirt, rubbing over his soft tummy with newfound stretch marks littering the skin there. he shudders, goosebumps awakening all over his skin, the hairs standing up. just as your hands began to drop tantalizingly low, you move them up to cup his jaw, forcing his eyes to bore into yours. "you're beautiful," you whisper, placing a sweet kiss on his lips, which he accepts greedily. "but i've-" "i don't want to hear it," you cut off what would have been a self deprecating comment on his weight, you both knew that, by placing a finger over his lips. "you are the most delicious..." you begin, placing a kiss behind his ear, "the most beautiful..." another one, along his neck, "the most handsome..." another one, this time to his cheek, "...sweetest guy i've ever met," you punctuate your thoughts with another kiss to his lips. aaron whimpers, and he can feel your prideful smile widen against him. you've always loved being the one to reduce the aaron hotchner to a puddle of mush. you pull away reluctantly, hands resting in his belt loops. "i think rossi just got here," you breathe against his lips, "fix yourself up." you wink at him, leaving him to clean up your mess with a swift slap on his butt. he chuckles breathlessly, watching your figure retreat and greet rossi as if you weren't seconds away from debauchery in the conference room.

#this was not proof read #bon appetit #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner criminal minds #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner smut #belle’s blurbs a.h.

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gglitch1dd · 2 days

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How would Dilf Izuku react if anything happened to reader when she is in labor? For example maybe she faints because she’s losing too much blood (sorry if this doesn’t make sense)

(Sorry for answering so late Anon)

Interesting thing about DILF Izuku is the fact that he is there for EVERY single birth. He is there. He gets the call from the hospital saying that you're in labour and he literally tells his PA that he's officially on leave and no one can say otherwise.

After the first two times, he's gotten the hang of what he's supposed to do and what his role is as your husband. He takes his job very seriously.

He's there to hold you whenever you want him to.

He's an errand boy and he picks up the articles of clothing that you end up throwing off yourself during labour.

He's the object to your verbal abuse while in labour. Yes, he knows it's his fault. Yes, he knows you want to kill him. Yes, he knows that this is another sprout you got to push out of your vajayjay. Yes, he still loves you. Yes, he's going to shut up now.

He supports you with loving words. He's right there by your side. He's scared shitless but he doesn't show it because he knows that you need him to be strong when you feel so helpless to the force of nature that his child birth.

Don't faint. Just sit there and look pretty.

Those are the jobs he has listed for himself among many others like make sure his mom is looking after the boys and have the baby bag ready and not to get a speeding ticket while doing so.

Your final pregnancy with Koda was a scary one. Mostly because you were high risk at the time and other than a small fainting scare, you were fine. Everything was fine. The labour was normal and you delivered the baby safe and sound.

A squealing and crying little baby boy that had deep forest green hair and a set of pipes to wake up the dead. He was beautiful and Izuku was so proud of you. He held you with gentle kiss to the top of your head, tears in his eyes at the sight of his new baby boy.

And for five minutes, everything was perfect. Your son was placed on your chest and the three of you were together. Father, mother and son.

Until suddenly, nothing was okay.

"Izuku..." Your voice was breathy as you raised your hand to hold his arm.

Izuku looked away from his son to you. "Yes?" It took less than a second and Izuku knew that nothing was okay. You weren't okay. You were fading, and you were fading fast. Your eyes were fluttering and suddenly your heart rate was declining. He stood up straight. "Y/N. Y/N! Y/N stay with me." He shouted as one of the nurses went running to check on your vitals.

One of the midwives took the baby out of your arms, the newborn's face twisting into a cry at the shouting.

You tried looking at your husband and you tried focusing on him but your breaths were too slow and far between and your eyes were too heavy to stay open. Izuku held your hand, frozen, trying to figure out what was happening. Why weren't you awake anymore?

Why were you still bleeding?

What did the doctor say? Why were you still here?

Why was he just standing there. Why did he let them position him away from you?

Why couldn't he hear a thing?

His wife was there! You were right there! Yet he was... helpless.

And that's when the sinking terror settled in. The reminder that as a father, Izuku could do nothing when it came to this process. He could do nothing. He wasn't a doctor, he wasn't a nurse, he wasn't God. He could do nothing but watch as his beautiful wife, his beautiful loving wife, mother to five of his children, lay there as they tried to stop the bleeding and wake you up.

Izuku moved to grab onto your hand again, and he prayed. He prayed so hard that his mother would probably be impressed right about now.

How a man who had everything, who had the money, got the fame, the influence, the wife, the kids, the family that he wanted, was reduced to nothing but tears and begging for you to not leave him.

Your eyes opened as you turned to look at your right hand. Holding your hand in a death grip was the hands of your husband. You could only see the head of his hair as he seemed to be kneeling at the side of your bed. You heard him muttering and saying something but you weren't exactly sure.

You raised an eyebrow. "Izuku?"

Your husband raised his head, and that's when you saw his beautiful green eyes were red with tears as they just fell from his eyes. He looked up at you as if you were a ghost for a moment before a sob came out of his mouth as he pulled your hand to his face. He cried and you didn't know why he was crying.

Didn't you just take a nap?

"Izu, are you okay?" You asked him gently. "Why are you crying? Where's the baby?" You asked looking around. Your body felt heavy but that was labour for you.

Izuku couldn't let go of you. "Oh thank God." He let out with a sigh. He kissed the back of your hand as he refused to look away from you.

-Glitch1d

#dilf midoriya #dilf deku #dilf izuku midoriya #dilf izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #mha x y/n #deku x reader #mha

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somewhereincairparavel · 1 day

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Literally where do people get the idea that Jason was full of himself and that he thought he was better than Percy? This is legit brought up in so many 'why-i-hate-jason-grace" arguments it just screams lack of reading comprehension and obvious Percy bias saltiness. Like just say you are bitter that Jason is written as percy's equal and that you want Percy to have nobody rival him 💀

Never once in his povs did he ever think about how much better he was, on the contrary it's just him not feeling good enough about himself. He and Percy NEVER said anything bad about eachother.

His and Percy's rival is just a joke between two powerful demigods who have rival dads, that's literally it. Even if Jason did indeed think he's better, so what about it? What's the big deal?

he has worked hard and accomplished great things, so he has like, every right to be confident in his power, stop acting like hes all weak and inferior when he canonically killed a titan with like his bare fucking hands till the point Krios swore vengeance on him. No he's not "weak" or morally inferior to Percy as a person. You are merely trying to cope. Not to mention the way people judge a character's worth SOLEY based on their abilities is a huge red flag in itself, but that's a discussion for another time.

he shouldve canonically had more achievments and power than he originally got in the books as a son of jupiter. but rick made Percy too OP and fumbled jason for the sake of keeping percy's spotlight intact. Has it ever dawned on people that Percy is shown to have cool abilities like bending tears but Jason is never shown to have abilities like controlling lungs? Yeah, that's authors privilege for ya.

Y'all put Percy in an obnoxiously high pedestal and that's not a good thing. It diminishes his flaws and makes him appear so saint like and Gary Stu even though he's not. the fact that ppl get so sensitive over their rivalry and try to belittle jason by making up scenarios (like claiming jason thinks he's superior and shit) and go around saying that to ppl to reduce his value DESPITE being well aware that he has like enough hate already, is so insanely petty. BOTH Jason and Percy deserve equal amounts of respect.

God forbid a teenage boy say he's better than the other as a joke, he's such a terrible, stuck up, and shitty person who deserved death for that, isn't he?

#Attack me all you want idc I said what I said.#Yall just dig up reasons at this point. It's giving an 8 year old roblox kid behaviour.#Fandom to a boy with a tragic story who literally did nothing but exist and be a good person: he's a villian who deserved death! 😡😠#I swear if Jason slander still exists a few years later then I have no hope in this fandom anymore.#I thought this fandom was peaceful 😔#“I hate Jason with passion bc he's boring and nobody should rival Percy because he's the best.How dare Jason be the son of the king of gods #“how dare someone be percy's equal. Nobody should be written as Percy's competitor 😤😡😠” like womp womp ig #Y'all are so salty lmfao. The fandom makes Percy into such a gary stu even when he's not.#pjo #pjo series #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #jason grace #pjo hoo #hoo

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angelbarelywrites · 3 days

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♡ good one | thomas hewitt x reader

♡ fandoms; Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003 + 2006)

♡ characters; Thomas Brown Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; references to extreme violence, stockholm syndrome i suppose?, kidnapping

♡ notes; this was literally supposed to be porn but instead here’s some weird sappy stuff lol

anyways hopefully more fics soon, writers block and rehearsals have been a bitch and a half

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

It was a wonder you were still alive. That’s what you thought about, sitting and fidgeting in the strange bedroom with your ankle shackled. Was shackled the right word if it was tied with rope? Whatever. It didn’t matter. You were fairly certain you’d fall prey to the crazy folks running around the place soon enough. The group you’d hitched a ride with was already long gone- one you’d watched get shot point blank by the bullshit sheriff. The others….well, you heard the chainsaw and the screaming. It was an easy conclusion to come to, especially after you saw the bloody smears on the hardwood downstairs.

You weren’t sure why you hadn’t been hacked into bits yet. You’d been indistinguishable from the others- just another wandering twenty-something with tight clothes and next to no money. The only thing you could think of was that gas station. Your companions had been such dicks to the lady at the counter- of course you apologized to her. She’d been just as kind in return, she even snuck a candy into your bag of sodas and snacks. She was the one who’d sent you that way, towards the farm house.

You stilled, train of thought lost as you heard footsteps. Heavy and slow- they were somehow more intimidating than any angry stomping could have been. You curled your legs up defensively, eyes trained on the door. The person stood there more than a second, silent and just as still as you were holding. If you hadn’t been listening so intently, you would have thought they turned and walked away. But then there was some quiet mumbling- a woman’s voice, maybe?- and the door creaked open.

“Go on Tommy dear- I found a good one for you.”

You’d never seen a man so tall- with shoulders so broad or arms and torso so solid. He was massive. He was terrifying. And he was attractive. Once your eyes unglued themselves from his figure you finally took in the rest. Dark, thick shoulder-length waves. A mask that seemed useless as any sort of medical device thanks to the open mouth. Eyes that were dark but not brown. Maybe blue, maybe gray..maybe just pure black. Like a shark’s. In other circumstances you'd be reduced to a puddle on floor over him. But the bloodstains on his shirt didn’t go unnoticed.

You watched him closely, and he watched you just as alertly, stalking forward like some jungle cat…No. Wait. That wasn’t right. He didn’t look scared, but he was cautious, keeping some distance. Maybe a better allegory would be he looked like he was trying to corner a feral kitten- not wanting you to swipe or dart away. As if doing either was possible. You were frozen with fear, though found the courage to lean back a bit as he stepped forward. He grunted softly and persisted, nearly trembling as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

Love at first sight was a stupid fucking concept. That you’d always believe. Maybe something in you just broke that same moment, maybe you were just too exhausted to think even close to straight. Maybe both. But when you and this massive man locked eyes, there was an instant understanding. He was already yours- and more importantly, you’d be his. He just had to stake his claim.

“…you’re Tommy?” You practically whispered. He nodded quickly. You got a sense he didn’t speak much, but you told him your name in return and tried to think of anything to talk about to stall the inevitable. “…you killed those people?” You blurted for some godforsaken reason. He tensed, still hovering over you. “It’s okay.” You added quickly “I didn’t actually know them. They were kinda mean.”

He furrowed his brow just a bit and searched your face, for any signs that you were lying. Before he came to a conclusion, you gave a soft sigh, instinctively leaning into the hand that had raised your face to him. Something immediately softened about him, and he rubbed your cheek in awe. The sleepy giggle it caused seemed almost to startle him. It was like no one had ever been that soft with him. Maybe they hadn’t. “….this is your room right? Can we sleep?”

Tommy still seemed in shock but carefully nodded, undoing his apron and seeming at a loss of what to do next. He frowned a bit as he noticed your bindings and quickly undid the knot that kept you stuck there. His guard was down- you could try to run. But you didn’t want to. Doing so would only be tiring. You wanted to let go. So instead you smiled softly and simply opened your arms, letting him cuddle up with you. It took him a minute to get settled, and all the while treating you so delicately… like you were made of glass. He looked up at you, again searching your face in near confusion. He grunted in surprise as you pecked his forehead. His mama really did find him a good one.

#slashers #slashers x reader #slashers x you #thomas hewitt #tcm #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas brown hewitt #tcm 2006 #tcm 2003 #texas chainsaw the beginning #texas chainsaw massacre #gender neutral reader #g/n reader

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albedov · 2 days

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sometimes he wondered, if he went back to that dreadful day when his world became reduced to nothing but agony and a fading darkness would things still play out the same? it didn't matter really. if he really could go back he'd like to go back just to feel your fingers laced with his that one last time. to feel your warmth against his equally warm skin for one last time, not his own cold bitterness.

he wanted to go back to a time where he could feel your skin on his own, where he could smother you in a hug and enjoy that human companionship he thought would last forever. now all he could do is ask you to hold him and hope that for a fleeting moment that he could feel his metal skin and so he could feel human again.

a/n: this is actually a small drabble based on a current fic im writing

#↳✮『drabbles』✮#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #hsr boothill #boothill x reader #boothill x you

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042502 · 2 days

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Enemies // M. Sturniolo x Reader.

SYNOPSIS: You and Matt are archenemies, he constantly harasses you at school. But one day something slips out of his hands.

WARNINGS: violence, enemies-lovers, insults, attacks, bullying, among others.

NOTES: My first language is not English, so if you find any grammatical errors you already know why :)

MASTERLIST!!

You found yourself pressing that pencil tightly against the table. You had so much anger inside, You needed him to shut his damn mouth once and for all.

All he does is be a stupid rich nerd. As if that were a big deal, He's just a son of a bitch.

"Hey" he shouts at you. "Don't they teach low-income people not to scratch school tables?"

He had this stupid arrogant expression on his face. You wanted so badly to kick him in the face until you disfigured his face and eliminated that damn expression.

"I guess they didn't teach you that, Because your parents had to share ten new pencils, true?"

The class ended and we were grateful that it was like this. You couldn't stand his presence more than necessary. You grab all your things and leave the room.

Why so much hate towards Matt Sturniolo?

In addition to the aforementioned, he was a fucking idiot. He thinks it's all about him, Never in history have you seen a fucking nerd be the popular kid who puts everyone down, Since when is this like this?

He harassed you, like bullying. But that's already in the past, you wouldn't let him abuse you anymore.

You were walking at a fast pace through the hallways, eager to leave damn school. But out of nowhere something hits you from your left and you stumble.

A door opens with the weight of your body and you are dragged inside, the door closes and you find yourself trapped with Sturniolo.

"Didn't you have enough? Does your lab rat girlfriend not have enough fun for you?"

Mention that standing up, You discover that are in reduced storage.

"From time to time you have to take care of pets."

"I'm not a pet."

"If he throws a branch at you... Would you go after her?" He just implied that you were a bitch.

"What did you say?"

"What you heard."

"I'm sorry, but I don't listen to Nerds" you push Matt's chest with your hands, causing his back to hit the door.

"Well, I want to clarify that I value your option as much as what a white pencil writes."

"Your parents will have all the money in the world, Matt..." I smile proudly. "But you have poor tastes."

Low blow for the new toy Matt had gotten in recent months, It was a new foreign girl, I was almost as stupid as Matt, a complete nerd who thinks she's big just for being the new one at sucking Matt's cock.

"Hey, I'm sorry sweet peach, It's not that you don't make me bigger, but if you were in a coma I would disconnect you to charge my third phone" stands firm. "You should worry less about me and more about your eyebrows being even."

"Fuck you Sturniolo!" you tear off the stupid glasses that adorned his damn blue eyes, the parts and you throw it to the ground to step on it.

"Oh no, you just destroyed my glasses 78" use a fake sad tone. "Come on, you still have to destroy 22, but don't worry" smile. "I can buy another 22 more."

"You're so stupid, What the fuck are you looking for?"

"I want to see you suffer like the bitch you are, that you kneel for me and beg."

"Tell your Spanish girlfriend to suck your cock well."

"You're not understanding me, not even if you are the last woman in the point I would let you suck my cock."

"It's not something that fascinates me, Now get out of the fucking door once and for all."

You pushed him and before you can open the door he catches you, His face was so close to yours, Their breaths mixed with each other.

"fuck you..."

"fuck me."

Matt's lips catch yours, it was so painful, His teeth spared your lower lip and you pushed him away from you with both hands.

"Fuck you, you idiot!"

You open the door and leave, bringing your hand to your lips, I was bleeding like shit.

"Shit."

What the hell was all that?

NOTES: I don't know what the fuck I just wrote, just ignore it.

Remember to hit the heart and share it with your friends! Thanks for reading^^ If you want to be part of the taglist leave a comment!

TAGLIST: @luverboychris @alexandernvr @prisciliin @sturncakez @imwetforyourmom @hotreaderliin @tillies33ssss @sturnioloxlver @jnkvivi @stvrniolowh0re @dirtylittleheartsworld

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qvnthesia · 1 day

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in action. (a tbb hunter one-shot)

a hunter/jedi!reader (afab) fic.

the pitch: seeing hunter in action inspired a different flame in you, one that you wanted everything to do with.

a/n: okay look — i know i know i was supposed to update my tvd fic but IT’S HUNTER COME ON this man has captivated my heart my soul my body my legs—*ahem* anyways, i hope you enjoy this fic! dedicated to @/xajnie on tbbtwt, thank you for fuelling the hunter admiration <33 i’ve had to change the plot 4 times — FOUR TIMES (fuck writer's block) — so, once again, i hope you enjoy this fic!

word count: 1, 426

theme/warning: fluff, and references to smut. implied enemies to lovers dynamic. reader is an adrenaline junkie <33 (yes i’m projecting yes i’ve become a whore for this man yes i’m not ashamed) — putting an 18+ warning just to be on the safe side 💗

You were staring.

Here’s the thing—Jedi weren't supposed to stare like that. They were supposed to observe, analyse their environments and maintain peace and harmony accordingly.

Granted, you had spectacularly failed at that mindful endeavour when you had stormed through the Zygerrian stronghold. You cut through hordes of clankers with a brazen and bold strut, freed civilians fleeing behind you for cover as you advanced forward. You supposed your lightsaber would have yielded some ‘yielding’ results from the enemy, but your master’s warning about your thrill-seeking tendencies rang in your brain, and you were too late. Now enslaved to the cruel species, you didn't have much of a leeway, much to your amused chagrin, with a shock collar saddled around your neck, sharp electric cords having forced you on your knees with your bound wrists lying between your legs.

Now, however, you weren't regretting being bound at all.

There was a reason the clones had more advantages than the Separatists. They were men, they were alive, they were people who had thoughts and dreams of their own. Every trooper you had been graced with the privilege of serving alongside with had their own quirks, distinguished by their own art, moral and valour.

The sargeant was more.

As the de-facto commanding officer of the Bad Batch, Hunter had had his initial doubts about you. He was a man who wasn't used to deferring his leadership, especially not to someone who had gone from Captain to Commander to General within a span of months. But you were a Jedi, and he never voiced his doubts even though you could still feel the bitter edges of his annoyance and his purposefully positioned distance reduced to nothing but professionalism and workplace discipline.

You thought that being a Jedi, you’d stick to the military civility and get the job done.

But the Sargeant made it hard to be a stickler for the rules.

You centered yourself in the Force, ignoring the deep tug from your pulsing womanhood as Hunter battled a horde of Zygerrian slavers, hand-to-hand.

This wasn't the first time you’d watched him fight. Sure, he fought for the good of the Republic, but you’d be lying if you said watching him kick ass wasn't a scrumptious treat for your sore eyes.

Aside from the clankers begging for mercy, he spared none as he sank his knife into the droids. His pauldrons strained against his biceps as he wrapped his arms around the commando ones until their circuitry sparked and fizzled into haphazard disassembly. There were moments where it was just comfortable silence, you working on your lightsaber again while he kept twirling his knife until he sheathed it under his forearms and got up to receive the latest mission briefing. Your veins always swam with his every move, your gaze drinking every smug tug of his chapped lips as he gave a two-fingered salute and decimated battalions, his fingers curling in the exact way you’d imagined him inside you.

It was as if the war suddenly ceased to matter, your Code rendered obsolete within a span of seconds as he brgan filling your thoughts. His breath mixing with yours, fingers tangled in his hair, all resistance forgotten, his skin on yours, bodies joined, his light inside you, rendering you delirious and needy with pleasure. His smoky voice filling your ears with the filthiest of murmurs as he claimed every inch of you, gazing down upon you with a dark, heavy-lidded stare that he’d directed at you whenever he disagreed with you and your near-suicidal yet successful strategies.

You’d committed his every move to your memory. It wasn't hard to forget, being sensitive to everything down to the molecules around.

It was then you sensed it, panic flooding your limbs as a yellow whip cracked the air.

“HUNTER—”

Your warning died, lips parting in sharp, rippling surprise as the whip curled around Hunter’s arm. The electricity travelled up his body, and you struggled against the bonds, being hit with electricity tailored to make you kneel.

That’s when you heard it. A low growl. The strangled primal voice ripping out of Hunter’s throat as he stood up on his two feet. Your mind practically exploded as you stared openly, mental shields frayed from something between pain and admiration, the kind inspired by a promise of the forever you’d sworn not to chase.

Gripping the blazing whip, Hunter yanked the Zygerrian man towards him, stopping an imminent collision as he bent the slaver’s wrists with a painful wrench and delivered a sharp kick to his chest, careening the scum across the dark bridge of the facility until his body collided with the console and fell to the floor with a useless crumple.

You let out an exhale, relieved. Your legs were trembling from the exertion employed from resisting being beaten into submission. But you stood up on your two feet, shaky.

“Right on time, huh?”

You met his helmet, stark, and sighed again.

“Okay, I know you're mad and yes, I should’ve take the offer for backup—”

You’re cut off as his helmet hits the ground with a thud and he makes straight for you. Before you can say anything, his fingers rip off the collar your neck and undo your restraints.

“Hunter—”

Your confusion muffles into shock as he pulls you towards him and brings your lips into his.

Your heart nearly explodes, its pace picking up as your eyelids instantly droop shut, your palms pressing his chest plate, arms snaking around his neck until your fingers threaded through his dark locks. His fingers grip under your thigh, feet shuffling until he pins you against a wall, his solid body trapping yours under his heat. His mouth slants over yours, and he groans into the kiss as your tongue meets the hot wet of his mouth. Your back digs against his hands as they roamed across the expanse of your robes.

He was so close to you, so unbearably far away with the layers between as you snaked one leg around his waist and his length pressed against you. You arched your back at the contact, flames igniting up your body as you grinded against him, the lines between need and want blurring so intensely between your desires to be one with him and have him stay just like this.

His hands cupped your face and he flinched. Your brows stitched together as he drew back, hurt tautly woven on your face.

Hunter probably sensed your emotions, he always did, always on the lookout for something different, something hopefully not life-threatening. He simply held out a hand now coated with your blood. His eyes roved over to the bleeding gash from the side of your face, and he let out a weary sigh.

“When will you start listening to me?”

“Now where’s the fun in that, Sarge?” you grinned.

“Tsk,” his other hand traced the edge of your jaw until his thumb pressed your lower lip. “Don’t tempt me.”

Your grin grew wider and you let out a breathy laugh, your tongue flicking out to give his thumb a lick. A thrilling shiver ran down your spine, your mind hazy with your victory, once his intense brown-grey eyes refocused on you.

“Call it a favour, Hunter.”

He hummed, “What if I don't see it as a favour, Mesh’la?”

Your smile melted, the fire in your blown-out eyes sparking brighter, your gaze flickering between wonder at the use of that endearing term.

A handful of seconds passed between the two of you, and a smirk tugged at his lips.

Your scent had been on him the entire campaign, driving him into absolute overdrive everytime he watched you cut down enemies with your saber and decimate battalions as if you were cutting through butter and not fighting an intergalactic war. But today, he’d had trouble fighting against those slavers with the thoughts that were running in your head and driving him wild. He’d felt the weight of your gaze on his soul, the curiosity turning into animosity masking your passionate frenzy. And he would be a fucking fool if he didn’t admit not a day went by where he hadn’t thought of doing things to you that turned your bratty self into a whimpering, moaning mess all over him.

He noted your evidently aroused state, the warm blood rushing beneath your skin, and the wetness pooling your trousers.

This was going to take a while, and Hunter wasn't going to waste a single second of finally getting to have some action with you.

thank you so so much for reading! please do point out any grammatical mistakes if there are any. this is the first time i'm writing for hunter so i hope you enjoyed this fic!

if you'd like to be added to the hunter tag list (since i do have a shit ton of fics planned—this man has a chokehold on me as bad as hayden does), drop a comment below! reviews are extremely appreciated 💗✨

this fic has NOT been cross-posted to my ao3. any/all forms of plagiarism will not be tolerated.

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herebegiants · 3 days

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𓍊𓋼 Character Introduction: Christopher Lynch 𓋼𓍊

Mostly going by Chris, he’s a 20’ tall Jotnar - which is about average height for his race. His main job is carpentry, and he makes plenty of little things just for the sake of having around the house. But when he has free time he helps around his father’s tavern, or otherwise goes foraging - identifying and collecting nearby plant life to use for herbal treatments like teas for sore throats, salves for sore muscles, etc. When he’s in the kitchen he’s a mean cook, making both healthy and tasty dishes. Too bad for his diet he likes mead and sweets more than he likes trying to be healthy, but that doesn’t mean he can’t put someone in a headlock if they’re acting up.

The oldest brother out of the two, he tries to be mostly responsible and is practically minded, and has a habit of looking out for others to an almost fussy extent. But he also has to tease - especially with the little folk. To be perfectly honest he finds them adorable, but he’s not about to admit it. Or let that on to a total stranger if he comes across one he doesn’t know yet. Not until they’re better acquainted, at least. In his mid 30s, Chris has already started to need glasses to see anything too close to his face, making it common for him to pull them out when he’s talking to fairies for longer than a few minutes. At his size the little folk are far too small to even see clearly half the time without. Or at least their faces certainly are.

Last but not least to note is his intrigue - and very nearly obsession - with magic. It’s said by some that the Jotunn had their ability to use magic taken away. Cursed to be unable to practice anything of their own, and limiting them to use what they could find around them in the form of plants and animals. To this day, Jotunn magic has been reduced to alchemy and potion brewing, and it has been for hundreds of years. There’s very little research on why or how, and the mystery has gnawed at the back of Chris’s mind ever since he first learned of it. Someday, he’ll find the answer. And when you know exactly what a problem is and why, you can work to reverse it.

#christopher lynch #giant #gentle giant #nick borealis #my ocs

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silverisfuzzy · 2 days

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Double Team

also havent reread this in a while, sorry for any mistakes teehee

the infamous spider sandwich (miguel o'hara x reader x peter b parker)

interact on ao3 too if ya wanna :)

tags: polyamory, cockwarming (kinda), double penetration, anal sex, anal fingering, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, belly bulge, coming in pants, voyeurism (kinda), creampie, squirting, no use of y/n

!! MINORS DNI !!

You had no idea how you three came about this arrangement, Peter and Miguel had a thing going on before you had even met them. Somehow they managed to rope you in and not a moment passed where you regretted it. The peaceful mornings and sweet kisses that you three would share were something that you didn't know you needed.

It felt good to be taken care of, especially right now with your body sandwiched between them in the middle of your bedroom. Your chest pressed tightly against Peter's and your back against Miguel's chest. Your breathing was heavy as Peter cupped your cheek and planted kisses into the crook of your neck, sucking and biting at the skin when you didn't expect it just to make you gasp. Peter’s other hand wandered to Miguel’s hips behind you, forcing them to push against your backside eliciting a groan from him. The feeling of Miguel’s clothed cock and his desperate hands on your body punches a loud moan from your throat as your hand scrambles to Peter’s on Miguel’s hip. He huffs a small laugh into your neck and continues his assault on your skin. Large hands begin to snake their way under your clothes, nails ghosting across your skin as one makes its way toward your chest and the other slips past your waistband. You gasp when you feel fingers press firmly against your wet heat and your head falls back against Miguel’s chest.

Peter kisses up the curve of your jaw and captures your mouth in a kiss. Miguel rolls a nipple between his fingers and his hand slips further between your legs to push aside your underwear. Your moan is swallowed by Peter, whose tongue makes its way past your lips and drowns out the noises being drawn out by Miguel shoving two fingers into you with no warning.

You break the kiss when Miguel curls his fingers, pressing harshly against your sweet spot, “Ah fuck-” You’re cut off by your own moan as he thrusts his hand repeatedly to hit it. The squelching sounds fill the room and your face burns from how quickly you're reduced to a mess. “Oh god, Miguel!” Your orgasm sneaks up on you, shooting through your body so quickly that you are barely able to register that it is happening. Your arms wrap around their necks as best as you can to keep yourself from collapsing with your shaking legs. Miguel works you through your orgasm before removing his fingers from you and into your open, panting mouth.

“You’re so beautiful,” Peter compliments as you suck your cum from Miguel’s fingers. He kisses your neck again and slowly begins lifting your shirt, eventually prompting the fingers to leave your mouth. You can’t feel your legs moving as you are guided to sit down on the edge of the bed. Your skin feels cooler now that you are not pressed between them. Peter and Miguel stand over you as they start to remove your pants, lifting your hips for you and slipping them off along with your soaked underwear. You’re sat bare on the bed as Peter turns to Miguel and pulls him down into a kiss.

Miguel sighs against his lips and holds Peter’s face in his hands. Peter slides his hands down Miguel's back until they rest on his ass, pulling him close and moaning into his mouth. You lean back on the bed propping yourself on your elbow and trail a hand between your legs. It wasn't out of the ordinary for you to watch them be intimate with each other, you've been given permission plenty of times to touch yourself and this was no different.

You kicked a leg up onto the bed and dragged your fingers through your folds, overwhelmingly slick from a few moments ago and sensitive to the touch. Your breath caught as you watched Miguel drive his hips forward starting a rhythm of grinding against Peter and moaning into his mouth. Their kiss grew sloppy, a mess of tongues and panting as Miguel scrambled to pull Peter’s shirt over his head and connected his lips to the base of his neck. Peter moaned as he bit down on a patch of skin and roughly guided Miguel’s hips to meet his. His hand moved to grab a fistful of Miguel's hair, pulling his face from his neck.

A finger dips into your heat when they start removing the rest of their clothing, kissing and gripping at the skin as it's being exposed. You bite your lip at the sight of their full erections, curling your finger to prod at the spot deep inside of you, a whine bubbles up your throat and catches the attention of the two men. They turn their heads to face you, eyes cast down to your hand that is slowly pumping into yourself as the slick trickles onto the bed sheets.

Peter moves first, kneeling next to you and locking his lips around your nipple. Miguel follows not a second later to capture the other between his teeth. You moan loudly as your hand falls from between your legs to hold yourself up. The way they each worked your chest was drastically different but the results were the same, they felt sore and swollen. One more so from the assault of Miguel’s teeth.

Your mind was foggy from arousal, not even noticing your body being flipped and hoisted up to hover over Miguel, who was now lying on the bed gripping your thighs. You planted your lips on his for the first time since that morning, his mouth opened for you instantly. The feeling of his hands tightened around your thighs as you felt the warm head of Miguel’s cock brush through your slick. Both of Miguel’s hands were on your body which meant that Peter had taken the liberty to guide the other man’s cock to your pussy. You hummed into Miguel’s mouth, feeling Peter’s hand on your lower back pushing you down onto the leaking cock. Your attempt to halt the movement to adjust was ignored as you were forced to take Miguel all at once. Pulling away from the kiss, you fall to your forearms and press your cheek to Miguel’s chest as a broken moan escapes your lips.

“God, you take me so well, baby,” Miguel groans out of breath, his cock pressed deep inside of you. Your breath is heavy and Peter’s hand holds you down firmly to keep you from moving. The sound of a cap popping barely registers through the fog in your brain before cold, wet fingers are pressed against your ass. You bite back a moan as his finger slowly breaches the ring. Peter pushes forward keeping an eye on your reactions, your face twisting before settling onto pleasure. The drag of his finger sent shocks throughout your body, quiet sobs fell from your lips at the combined sensation of being filled from both ends. The process continued slowly for two more fingers, Peter teasing you from the inside. Curling, scissoring, and pressing against the wall that separated his fingers from Miguel's cock. Miguel lifted your head from his chest, kissing the tear stains from your cheeks before finding your mouth again.

Peter thrusted his hand into you causing your hips to shift, Miguel's cock dragging along your walls. You groaned, feeling your core begin to tighten from the sudden movement. Peter removed his hand from your back, finally allowing you to fuck back onto the fingers and cock buried deep inside of you. The kiss slowly dissipated into you and Miguel panting and moaning into each other's mouths with his hands guiding your hips to meet his.

“I'm close,” you struggled to get the words out, the knot in the pit of your stomach was tightening quickly. Miguel’s hand moved to your clit, adding to the sensations that you were already feeling between your legs.

“Give it to me, cariño, así,” Miguel whispered into your mouth, it didn't take long afterward for the knot in your core to snap. You cried out as your orgasm shook through your body, clenching around Miguel’s still hard cock and Peter’s fingers until it was over. Peter’s fingers slipped out of you, leaving you feeling slightly empty. You lay slumped against Miguel, catching your breath from the second orgasm of the night.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Peter asked, running his dry hand along your spine.

You smiled and huffed a laugh, “Fantastic.” After a moment, you are able to get a hold of yourself before your body is lifted upright to press against Peter's chest, Miguel still buried in you. He turns your head to kiss you, humming against your lips as he positions himself behind you. He breaks the kiss to push your body back down against Miguel, and the slick head of his cock presses against your ass. Peter pushes forward slowly to insert himself into you, the stretch still burned despite the preparation. A sob bursts through your lips as he inched further into you causing him to stop.

“No! God, keep going! Please!” You groan into Miguel's chest, who runs his fingers through your hair to soothe you as you fist the bedsheets.

“You're doing so good, almost there,” Miguel whispers into your hair but the drag and the feeling of being filled to the brim was enough to drive you insane.

You whine as Peter bottoms out, “Oh my goddd,” you feel like you're going to burst. His lips press to your back before leaning down further to kiss Miguel over your shoulder, who hums into his mouth. You hiss at the movement, his cock somehow managing to drive even deeper.

Peter sits up, wrapping a hand around your wrists and pinning them behind your back. Your body was hovering over Miguel once again, feeling like you were being split in half in the best way possible. A long, drawn-out moan pours from your lips when Peter pulls his hips back and thrusts forward harshly a sharp gasp is punched out of you before you dissolve into a moaning mess. The air surrounding the three of you grows thick as Peter and Miguel start pumping themselves deep into you. You struggle against Peter’s grip, needing to sink your nails into the skin of one of their bodies but settle for your palms. The sound of slapping wet skin and moaning caused your head to fall forward with a whine. You hadn’t noticed your eyes closing but when you opened them, they immediately fell to your stomach. The flesh protruded beneath your navel as Miguel fucked up into you. He noticed your stare and moved his hand to press against the bump.

“Fuck, baby, taking us so deep,” he shifts his body to plant his feet on the bed to pick up his pace. You cry out as you take him impossibly deeper, slamming right into your sweet spot.

The change of angle forced your voice to rise in pitch as the palm on your stomach increased the pressure as Miguel drove into you. Peter grunted behind you and he finally released your hands to settle his on your waist, pulling your body down onto his cock. The tightness in your core was growing steadily, and you clenched your pussy around them earning a hiss before a hand landed on your ass. The burn sent shocks straight to the pit of your stomach, you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

You begged for them to fill you through broken sobs, leaning forward with your hands on Miguel’s chest. Peter and Miguel work together to coordinate their thrusts, filling you simultaneously. A few well-aimed thrusts finally send you over the edge. Feeling a gush between your legs, you scream as your orgasm wipes you out for the third time. Miguel’s lap and the bedsheets around his hips were soaked. They continue their rough pace until they grow sloppy one by one, falling out of rhythm with each other. You whimper from the overstimulation as your orgasm begins to waver. Peter finishes first, pressing his hips firmly against your ass as he twitches and his cum spills into you. Miguel follows not long after, the squelching of your pussy was deafening as he drove up into you, balls slapping against your cunt. You moan weakly at the feeling of being stuffed for a moment as you attempt to catch your breath.

Your legs shook as Peter and Miguel guided you to lie down on the bed, you felt the cum drip out of you as your body relaxed. The two hover over you for a moment as you take in how wrecked they appeared. Hair a mess and sticking to their forehead and their faces still slightly red. They laid on each side of you, planting soft kisses on your face and neck as their heartbeats began to slow.

You smiled at the feeling of their lips on your skin, it was quiet and peaceful, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

#atsv #miguel o'hara x reader #peter b parker x reader #miguel o'hara x reader x peter b parker #spiderdads x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #peter b parker fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #peter b parker smut #smut

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ssparksflyy · 9 hours

Note

Hey Hello! I would like to request some headcanons of Leo V. With a children of Hypnos or Dionysus, thank you!

ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.

leo valdez dating hcs "(っ- ‸ - ς)ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

pairing: leo valdez x child of hypnos!reader warning(s): swearing probably idk i just put it in case now an: honk mimimimimimimi

yall remember that scene in frozen where anna is like "the sky's awake, so im awake, so we have to playyyyyy" and shes trying to wake up elsa? yea. thats leo.

he CANNOT sleep. ever.

his hyperactive ass is always trying to gogogogogogogo!

nd ur js like lemme sleep ;(

you try your best to stay awake to be out and about with him

he greatly appreciates it nd downs like four melatonin gummies with a cup of coffee so he can finally knock out with you

( coffee reduces hyperactivity for ppl with adhd 👍👍 )

but ohmygod those days when he gets ideas early in the morning ugh

TURN THE SELENA OFF IT IS SIX IN THE MORNING YOU CAN CLEAN YOUR WORKBENCH LATER

has taken quite a few pillows to the head

but hes fineeeee hes still livingggggggg

mmmm he snores.

leo frickin snores

usually thats a normal human thing

but hes got that latino dad snore

house shaking, earth shattering, loud enough to make you deaf

( my friends and i call it the mexican dad snore bcs all our dads snore like that 😭)

as of right now its still developing

it still hasnt reached full dad snore

its like in lion king when simba cant roar

it comes with age okay

when his melatonin gummies kick in they kick IN okay

passed tf out no return

(god i need sleep like that)

im tellin u hes either bouncing off the walls or dead

he tries to fight the sleep so badly sometimes

nd hes GOOD at it

idk how some of yall be going days without sleep but hes one of those ppl

literally falling asleep as hes walking talkin about "im fine!!"

NO UR NOT GO TO SLEEP

but then like one hug from behind and a small kiss on his neck from you is enough to make him give in

sleeps without a shirt but then got some of the funkiest pajama pants ever

all different kinds of designs nd stuff

he REFUSES to be basic nd wear those christmas checkered red pants idk what they r called

but that entire genre of pants.. disowned. refuses to wear them

no hate btw im literally wearing those pants as i write this

has made sure u have the COMFIEST bed EVERRRR hes installed like heaters, a cooler, the mattress is flexible (like in those commercials), the pillows are super soft, everything! absolutely everything!

honestly he doesnt seem too much like a plushies guy but at the same time he does

he has like one and its matching with you but like he stays loyal to that plushie and that plushie only

best cuddler tho ♡

an two: id write more but i feel like death right now so go 2 sleep nd have a nice day/night !! also gonna stop making the text small.. idk why tbh, not proofread just yet

peace from manhattan,

percy jackson ♡

#percy jackson #heroes of olympus #pjo #pjo x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #percy jackson x reader #by bells ♡⋆ ࣪.

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dgrailwar · 5 hours

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Round 5, Day 3 - Team Avenger

"There's much to think about."

That was the first and only thing that the Avenger said when returning to the base. He paced in the prison cell, before sitting down on the metal bed, eyes focused elsewhere.

"..."

It seemed as if he was lost in thought.

Servant Skills:

Determination of Steel (EX Rank): If Avenger is about to take a fatal wound, if there's at least a 3% difference in their score and the victor above him, he may avoid damage. When facing a single-target (1-on-1), he will gain a +3% boost.

Monte Cristo Mythologie: The King of the Cavern (C Rank): When battling enemies, his flames are like a poison. He reduces demerits against him by 3%, and when he is victorious against another, he inflicts a -2% demerit for their next round. This demerit increases by 2% by every 10% difference in scores.

Wisdom of Predicament (A Rank): When engaged in a Free-for-All, gain a +3% boost. Additionally, if Avenger earns last place, both the victor and the 2nd place Servant gain a -2% demerit, rather than simply the 2nd place Servant.

NOBLE PHANTASM: Enfer Château d'If (A Rank)

A high-speed Noble Phantasm that inflicts 2 ‘wounds’ rather than 1. If this Noble Phantasm is triggered during a one-on-one battle, then he gains a +20% boost. If it is triggered in a Free-for-All, the boost increases to +30%. Demerits lose any and all effectiveness against him for the duration of the round.

Class-Traits:

AVENGER-CLASS Servants are vengeful by nature. The first time they are defeated by a Servant, they gain an automatic +2% bonus against that specific Servant, without needing to study them (but can in order to increase the bonus). They gain a permanent +3% bonus per wound they attain that will remain if the wound remains, but will disappear if the wound is healed.

#team avenger #preparation phase poll

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shuttershocky · 2 days

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dear gods, good luck with your work shift today! but also! are you excited for the new ak event? I wish you a very get all the operators you want to roll for! i don't suppose you have any suggestions for past events to reread and/or skim so that i'm not completely lost?

I'm pretty sure this event is a sequel to just Lingering Echoes, though Arturia herself is Executor's cousin so it wouldn't hurt to read up on Executor the FedEx Driver's event as well.

I'm excited for Arturia because do you know who's been much, MUCH better than the internet has given her credit for? Valarqvin.

The general consensus about Valarqvin has been she didn't do too much on her own since her Necrosis damage scaled off her ATK stat and her ATK stat wasn't very high. I even advised someone awhile back who struggled to use her to just wait until Ebenholz delta / Arturia arrived to back her up.

I will say that after using her and going S2M3, I was wrong about her not being very good on her own. She fucking rules actually, because bosses — who are normally immune to most status effects and come with high defensive stats— get absolutely fucked by Necrosis, since not one of them has any Elemental RES.

50% ATK down on top of an unreduced 12k damage is so fucking good. I beat Clip Cliff in EX-8 without using the heat vents (and then had to go do it again with the heat vents when i found out it had a medal attached) by alternating Croissant's S1 with Valarqvin's S2 + Mousse S1 to make Croissant survive Clip Cliff's revolver skill.

That thing was designed to kill even Nian and Hoshiguma with their skills down unless the Heat Vents reduce Cliff's damage, while Cliff's 2.5k DEF and 70 RES meant he was so tanky not even Mlynar was gonna kill him without help or the heat vents.

With Necrosis debuffing him when Croissant's skill was down though? I didn't even need a DPS. I just burned this guy down.

I've been bringing Valarqvin to all sorts of stages since, from the SSS towers to IS4 where her IS4 exclusive talent really makes her shine.

I got Ebenholz's level 3 delta module ASAP to take advantage of Valarqvin's Necrosis. Can't wait to get a 6 star Ritualist and really go crazy with my new favorite gimmick.

#arknights

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oxygenpdf · 12 hours

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Late night thoughts with Oxygenpdf no. 2

Topic of the night: Max Verstappen’s dominance in formula one

@flyingcakeee you’re being tagged because you deal with my yap seshes 24/7

Max hate got so bad across platforms, had to specify that I indeed support his dominance in this sport. And will not be participating in the; “praying on his downfall” day.

Thank you.

No but in all seriousness. I get WHY people say “it’s getting boring” and to some extent I do agree, being able to anticipate who’s gonna win takes away some fun. However, it only adds to the enjoyment of NOT knowing another outcome. When Max dominates, majority of you guys don’t think of other possibilities. “What if Charles gets the lead?” “What if this is Landos first win” Max’s dominance allows us as fans to not only enjoy his progression in the sport, but also the anticipation of not knowing what else can happen.

of course, never would I pray on a drivers downfall. Every driver has their ins and outs. Max has been a personal new grid favourite of mine for a while. As has Lando () however, when he wins I get excited. Not for Redbull, but for him [or checo] individually.

Claiming that the sport is getting boring purely BECAUSE he’s winning is so ridiculous, at least in my opinion it is. I won’t fight you on it, that’s not what these yap seshes are for. I can come to terms with different opinions and thoughts. Hell if you don’t like Max, that’s totally fine. No one can truly bash your ideal driver lineup. But purely placing the blame onto him, as if he has a choice, is funny. He’s given a damn good car, and he’s a damn good driver who can control said car. Of course he’s going to take it home every race. He’s talent, skill, and ability mashed into one. It’s not “the car” it’s him.

here’s what I say; if you give a driver a good and fast car, said driver needs to be able to control it.

Redbull has given Max a very good car, as they should, and he’s been able to control it. THATS what the sport is about, good driver = good car, good car = needs a driver that can control it. It’s not about him reducing his wins because fans think his dominance is wasted or repetitive.

Even if Redbull didn’t give him a worthy car, yall think Max wouldn’t haul its dusty ass to 1st still? He proved way back in his early years that even when the car is absolutely shit, that he’s able to control it well enough in the points.

Rounding back. I can see why the sports getting boring. I too find it a bit boring, but that’s not because of his dominance, but because everything is really happening off-track more than on-track. And unfortunately the times good shit happens, it spirals out of control and things happen [AHEM Daniel AHEM Lance AHEM] also because I’ve watched this sport for so long, sometimes the excitement doesn’t catch up to me in time. I’ve always found Indy more entertaining, but F1 comes a damn close second along with WEC.

Anyways this is my propaganda against Max hate.

#pro Max Verstappen #that better be a tag #because I am pro max all day everyday #late night thoughts with Oxygenpdf #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #max verstappen

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abrandnewshadow · 2 days

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I have been posting my opinion and deleting it multiple times because I get so passionately angry (bipolar doesn’t help)

I just need to get off of here and realize that online mcr is not the entirety of the fanbase. I cannot abide people reducing/talking shit about Frank . It’s not a contest but he’s just as important as Gerard Ray or Mikey not to mention a prolific songwriter/performer/musician outside of mcr. It just seems the other members are revered, while fans act like he’s got something to apologize for regarding the ai thing or whatever he says online. Some jokes (however innocent) made about frank would NEVER be made about the other members and if they were people would get offended. And I guess that perplexes me. He is MCR just as much as the other members. He’s just trying to play in bands his whole life and some mcr fans are hell bent on burying ls dunes- these people I straight up do not want to know. Those that try to paint him as problematic or call him dumb (not as a joke)

I can handle Frank jokes I still don’t get the people that want to hurt him but I’ve accepted it’s a kink thing (or just trying to be funny). I am aware when it’s satire but some instances it’s not. I just feel like he’s not taken seriously as the person he is and what he means to so many people. Idk I get so upset and scared ls dunes gets ruined for him. I just don’t like when fans think frank should do this or that. Like he owes them something?

#frank iero #my chemical romance #mcr #iero #gerard way #ray toro #mikey way #ls dunes

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valiantroeagleangel · 2 days

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Nosferatu I.

Vampire Ruffilo x female reader

Nosferatu! Ruffilo, Nicholas is not necessarily very mentally stable, a bit obsessive too, and a perv, masturbation, voyeurism.

I PUT MY SOUL IN THAT THING. I'm pretty sure I'm about to pass out. Seriously it took me days to proofread it because I'm weak and lazy and I thought I could just write gothic stuff like it was the XIXth century as if I was a native English speaker. Spoiler alert: turns out I cannot.

Anyway, there will be a second part but that second part is long as fuck and I didn't want to put everything in there because I'm not writing 10k words long chapters. So I'll have you waiting for the rest of the story. But here, take my fucked up stuff. It sucks, it's short, but it's here.

Where Noah is a young and arrogant vampire, Nicholas is more mature and full of remorse (and a total psycho).

Mama’s tag list: @philomenie @gipsonnikki @circle-with-me @somewhere-diamond @malice-ov-mercy @smokeynaomi @darkhallcorner @loeytuan98 @sthnog @cookiesupplier @cncohshit @lma1986 @skulliecadaver-blog @talialovesmiw @to-be-written @4rtificialfolio @arkiliastuff

He used to be so gorgeous, him who used to profane the bed of many people of the fair sex. The type of man any woman's mind would go blank just by the sight of it. He used to be so gorgeous, tall, and talented. But now all that was left of him was a name.

Nosferatu. What a pathetic sobriquet.

What was the worth of his life now? What deserved a soul like his, doomed to damnation? Nothing. He deserved nothing, only the pity he could experience for himself. Those crooked fingers didn't merit to be seen, nor this monstrous face.

He used to be so gorgeous but now, now all he was reduced to was awful looks and a stupid nickname. He had lost all his greatness, all his presence for the sake of an immortality he no longer even wanted. He had dreamt of eternity, a forever life that would grant him power, money, love.

Love.

No love was left for him. No one stayed by his side after all these centuries. His body was perishing like a bird hiding to die. He was ageing in the worst kind of way. In an inhuman kind of way.

Sometimes he tried to remember what he used to look like but even then he couldn't see it anymore. All he could see in the mirror was the time that had passed and the lack of blood that destroyed him without ever letting him die. Sometimes he also told himself that he deserved it, that it was his sentence for being so greedy during his young years, thinking that he would pass eternity in the arms of simple women, women who would have been ready to give him their life. Oh, he could kill to live that again, he would die to live that again, just one last time. To feel the heat and the adoration from another someone.

And when he thought about that, he thought about her.

The first time he saw her, he wondered for a second if it was people like her who inhabited the Garden of Eden. People like her deserved to live in the heavens and were cursed to live in that hell of human life. He wondered that for a second, to not regret his appearance. To not regret the fact that he couldn't dare to approach her even if he wanted to. He would kill for her, die for her, even live for her. Live that miserable life if it meant spending eternity by her side.

Nicholas was consumed by her presence, his mind haunted by her image incessantly, day and night. Other women held no allure for him now; his thoughts were fixated solely on her. Yet, how could he dare approach her, she who was so pure, so holy, while he remained steeped in sin? She was beyond his reach, an angelic figure in a realm far removed from his own. Accustomed to the company of prostitutes, he could only hope that one day, amidst her divine radiance and devout Christian devotion, she might cast her eyes upon him.

As time passed, his longing intensified, driving him ever closer to her. The first time he spoke to her, she seemed unaffected by his gaze, as though she perceived him differently from others, as though she saw the man he was beneath his sinful exterior. If such were the case, he thanked the heavens for this unexpected mercy.

It seemed a miracle from above, an answer to his relentless prayers. How could it be possible? He feared her seeing him, hearing him, uncovering the darkness within his soul. But in her presence, surrounded by her saintly aura, perhaps he was not as rotten as he believed. Just as animals flee from their predators and dragonflies shun the shadows, he felt compelled to flee from her, lest his darkness tarnish her innocence.

"Pray for me, pray for the salvation of our souls, and I shall pray for you."

Perhaps he was not irredeemable, after all. Perhaps his perception of himself was skewed by his past sins, by the atrocities he had committed. He saw himself through his own tainted lens, blind to the possibility that she saw him differently, saw the goodness that still lingered within him.

In her presence, he began to see himself anew, to crave her with a fervour that surpassed all else. He longed for her touch, her gaze, her salvation. With any other, he would have succumbed to his basest instincts, sating his desires without remorse. But with her, he found himself captivated, entranced by her naïveté, her chastity.

She became his guiding light, his salvation in a world corrupted with darkness. Though their encounters remained chaste, devoid of lust or romance, he found himself drawn to her with an intensity that bordered on obsession. He cherished every moment spent in her presence, every fleeting glance, every whispered word.

However, she was too kind, too pure for him to pollute. He dared not cross the line, to stain her innocence with his immorality.

Until one fateful night, as he wandered through the rectory garden, drawn once more to her window. It was a simple gesture, a fleeting glance to ensure her safety, but it would change everything. As he peered into her room, illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight, he perceived her, naked.

In that moment, he realized that she was unlike any other, her beauty transcending the physical realm. He already knew she was so much more but his desire for her, once suppressed, now burned with an insatiable fire. He longed to feel her skin beneath his fingertips, to taste her essence upon his lips.

In the shadowed embrace of the night, she stood, an ethereal vision of delicate beauty, unaware of the storm brewing within the depths of Nicholas's soul. His vow echoed in the caverns of his mind like a cursed refrain, a promise forged in the crucible of his darkest desires. He had sworn that he would never defile her virtue with the stain of his lust. But, as she moved unknowingly, marked by purity, madness clawed at the fragile confines of his sanity.

Nicholas had known many a depravity in his timeless existence. Nicholas had sinned so much before. Sins that festered like an eyesore upon his immortal soul, but sins he bore with the weight of indifference. What use was there for remorse in the heart of one condemned to an eternity of solitude?

But now, as he stood in the cloak of night, his gaze fixed upon her, he felt a stirring of something long dormant within him. A flicker of care, of forbidden longing burning like a phantom flame. It was a torment he had not known before, a torment born of the realization that he cared, cared too much, and yet not enough to resist the call of his baser instincts.

In the hush of that nocturnal sanctuary, she moved to put her nightgown on, unaware of the predator lurking in the shadows. And as she dressed herself, Nicholas succumbed to the darkness of his fantasy.

With trembling hands, he unfastened is belt, allowing it to fall to the ground like a silent plea for absolution. A hand slipped beneath the fabric of his attire, a profane offering to the insatiable hunger gnawing at the last strands of his sanity. The moment hung suspended in time, a symphony of temptation and remorse warring for dominance within his fractured soul.

And then, as if in defiance of the heavens themselves, he bit down his lower lip, a desperate attempt to stifle the sinful moan of ecstasy threatening to spill forth from his lips.

With haste, his fingers passed through the band of his underwear as he only caressed his tip before stroking himself a little. There was nothing in the world that this Nicholas treasured more than sex, except for blood maybe. But god that woman was all he desired and the fact that she was far from his touch was killing him.

Yet, even if he tried to struggle against his sinful urges, groanings escaped him the moment he pressed his palm against his member. He observed her with a hunger that defied reason, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of her form as she tended to her hair with tender care. It was a simple gesture, devoid of any overt carnality, but it was enough to kindle a fire within him.

Nicholas found himself trapped in her gaze, a glance that pierced through the room. It was as if she possessed an otherworldly awareness, a subtle acknowledgement of his presence that sent shivers down his spine. His breath caught in his throat, a stifled gasp escaping his lips as he struggled to maintain composure.

In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still, suspended in the fragile balance between desire and restraint. His hand continued its desperate rhythm, betraying the turmoil raging within him. Even as his body yearned for her, Nicholas wanted to look at her, to observe her like he never did, in the vulnerability of the night.

She remained oblivious to his presence, lost in the mundane tasks of dressing herself, unaware of the tempest brewing just beyond her window. But for Nicholas, her every movement was a symphony of temptation, a call beckoning him ever closer to the edge of reason.

With each passing second, the boundaries of propriety blurred, giving way to a primal hunger that consumed him whole. He was a man possessed, shackled by the chains of his own desire, unable to resist the pull of her allure.

And as he stood there, bathed in the pale glow of the moon, Nicholas knew that he had ventured too far into the darkness, surrendering himself to a passion that could only lead to ruin. But, even in the depths of his despair, he found solace in the knowledge that for one brief moment, he had allowed himself to want her as he damned the consequences.

The more he touched himself the more he frowned his brows, slowing the movements of his fingers. He tried to calm his tempestuous breathing, tried not to come in his garment like a young one but it was an undying torture.

In the hushed sanctuary of her chamber, she moved with a delicate grace, her form, a silhouette against the flickering candlelight. Her slender arms swayed gently as she reached out, fingertips brushing against the handle of the candleholder, guiding it to its rightful place on the nightstand. The candle, cradled within her grasp, cast dancing shadows across the room. There was nothing more than innocence within her every movement.

But as she performed this simple act, Nicholas found himself trapped in a web of his thoughts. Though her actions spoke only of purity and grace, his mind betrayed him, wandering down forbidden pathways fraught with desire and longing.

His hand pressed on himself, he groaned again, his forehead covered in sweat betraying him. He couldn't handle anything anymore. He touched himself like she touched the light. And he whispered her name as he finished between his fingers.

She continued her ethereal motions through the room. Each step echoed softly against the ancient floorboards, a melancholic melody that stirred the very air around her. With a gentle sigh, she departed, leaving behind the confines of her sanctuary.

As she vanished into the shadows beyond, the weight of her absence hung heavy in the air, leaving Nicholas to wrestle with his unruly desires amidst the solitude of the rectory garden. Alone with his sins, he was left to confront the horrors of longing that raged within his heart. He was left to face the monstrosity he just committed.

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