#Malice Domestic

[fangirlnationmag]

The 2022 Agatha Awards!

The Agatha Awards have been announced, honoring traditional mystery books published in 2022. I’ve already added to my audiobook library collection after going through the books nominated for this prestigious award, in its 35th year this year. In the words of Malice Domestic, which awards these honors, The Agatha Awards celebrate the TRADITIONAL MYSTERY, best typified by the works of AGATHA…

View On WordPress

#Audie Awards #Malice Domestic #Mayday #mystery #Mystery awards

[autisticaradiamegido]

day 339

sssssssso what if i..... made destiny a friend......... or.... like......... an enemy.............. who is a dog girl and a werewolf and also an evil warlock......................

LORE and a bonus doodle under the cut

OKAY SO I NEEDED SOMEBODY TO BOUNCE DESTINY OFF OF, IN A FUN AND SILLY WAY. a character who is in many ways her opposite but still hits that vein of being very silly and over the top and nostalgic.

and there is this whole genre of cringey 12 year old oc that i havent even really touched with her which is like. when you make a guy with THE MOST TRAGIC backstory who is WRETCHED and MISUNDERSTOOD and THE WORLDS SADDEST AND MOST MISTREATED ANTIHERO

so i returned to the Evil Name Generator and got:

MALICE WINTERFANG

-She was born to a pack of werewolves who ABANDONED HER to die in the cold of the winter because she was The Weakest and they couldn't spare the resources. also it was a LUNAR ECLIPSE or something and i bet werewolves hate that, probably.

-but she was saved by an EVIL ICE ELEMENTAL on the condition that she make an EVIL BLOOD PACT to carry out his EVIL DEEDS in exchange for EVIL ICE POWERS

-so she does that and the EVIL ICE ELEMENTAL raises her to be EVIL but she doesn't REALLY want to be evil.... BUT she doesnt know any other WAY...... her life is HARD and everyone HATES her because she is doing EVIL ICE MAGIC STUFF in the dang woods

-until one day she has ENOUGH and she KILLS her EVIL ICE ELEMENTAL DAD and it is VERY EMOTIONAL and her feelings are SO COMPLEX AND DARK AND MYSTERIOUS.......

-anyway she gets to keep his EVIL ICE POWERS after that but who would ever befriend her when she is so MISUNDERSTOOD AND SORTA EVIL.......

anyway i guess shes like. kinda feral and existing on the fringes of society when destiny Encounters Her and mal is sees destinys whole deal and is like "truly we are enemies on so many levels. are you here to duel me. all i know is COMBAT and LIVING IN THE WOODS and RANDOM PEOPLE TRYING TO KILL ME BECAUSE I AM AN EVIL WARLOCK." and destinys just like. "well not really. im just out here doing some kind of assignment for Magical Girl College. but i AM told that magical girls and evil warlocks are usually enemies sooooo like how evil are we talking?"

i like to think they have kind of a slow MORTAL ENEMIES to acquaintances who kind of dunk on each other to friends to ????????? sorta arc to their relationship

ANYWAY. they might kiss about it im not sure. i think ive said something about destiny being aromantic but im not sure how attached i am to that. it probably wouldnt be the first thing ive retconned about her if i do decide to change it but WE'LL SEE.

#day 339 #year 4 #destiny chainsaw #malice winterfang #my ocs #cw eye strain #destiny meeting a nasty butch in the woods: wow her vibe is rancid. im going to domesticate the hell out of her.

[clownprince]

"you can't just ignore massive narratively consequential chunks of a characters' story that you don't like or disagree with" actually i can. and i do. and it's very easy ^_^

#this is abt harley and joker's entire relationship/dynamic btw #i will never forgive dc for making him a domestic abuser #i'm not a violent person generally but unironically i would give my life savings to fistfight every writer/creator who's been complicit in #that dynamic ^_^ i'm so mad i'm so fuckcing mad #i can excuse child murder / terrorism / assorted mass murder but i draw the line at hitting your partner #(joking. it has nothing to do with my mortality it's literally just a cptsd trigger for me lmfao) #but also the entire thing (heavily queer-coded character acting like a misogynistic wifebeater) is genuinely wildly homophobic and that Also #makes me IMMENSELY uncomfortable #the concept in general is. questionable at best but the way dc writers handled it in particular. fucking gross #this post also applies to bruce being physically abusive to his kids #no i don't consider him a good father but He Would Not Fucking Do That #more importantly ALFRED would not LET him do that #i am so full of rage and malice and resentment #“noooo you can't do that you're removing important bits of their characterization” i do not fucking CARE. go cry harder about it #anyway this isn't in response to anything i'm just in a mood (off my meds)

[momotonescreaming]

STWG Daily Prompt: Date Night

“Does Thursday work?” Jeff asks, voice tinny and sort of muffled. Eddie can hear the sound of flipping pages, the creak of the plastic from the phone's speaker. 

“Shit, sorry dude.” Eddie says, looking at the loose pages of lined paper he's scribbled his schedule on. It works for him, and it's better than nothing. “That's date night.” 

A pause. For a moment, all Eddie can hear is the sound of Jeff breathing through the speaker. 

“Date night, huh?” Jeff eventually asks, and Eddie can hear the smarmy grin he's wearing. It's leaking into his voice, the absolute delight in it all. Just the right side of teasing, the bastard. He'd hate it, would snap and snarl and throw it all back if he wasn't also fucking delighted. 

He could say that now. He had a boyfriend, who holds his hands and kisses him and schedules date nights. He gets this. He gets to talk about it with his best friend. Can mention he has a date and doesn't have to hide the fact that it's with his boyfriend. He gets to share in the gentle ribbing for once. It's not just him on the outside looking in — as they tease Gareth for getting a date with a girl from his English class, or Jeff hitting his anniversary with his girlfriend. 

Eddie's been domesticated and he doesn't mind in the slightest. 

“Yes, it's date night,” Eddie retorts, trying to send as much faux malice down the phone as he can. He's smiling though, as he sits at the kitchen table, phone cord absently tangled through his fingers. “And Steve's been working hard planning it, so I will not be rescheduling.” 

“I didn't ask you to,” Jeff laughs, tone light. 

“Well good.” Eddie teases, wishing they were having this conversation in person so he could stick his tongue out. Really ham it up. 

Another pause, and Eddie uses the silence to flip through his papers, looking through all the events and dates and times he's scribbled out. Fuck, he really needs a calendar. 

“So?” Jeff prompts, drawing the word out. “Tell me about date night.” 

“You sound like your mother,” Eddie laughs, holding the phone in between his ear and his shoulder, pinning it there so he can free up his hands. So he can sort through his papers and fidget with the phone cord at the same time “Begging for gossip.” 

“You love my mother,” Jeff retorts — snappish — but it's obvious he's smiling. Laughing through it. “And you say that like you aren't gagging to talk about it. Come on.” 

“Okay fine,” Eddie relents. Sighing as he sinks into his chair, slouching, his socked feet skating across the floor. “You caught me.” 

“Not hard,” Jeff laughs. 

“Steve’s been talking a lot about wooing me lately,” Eddie starts, ignoring Jeff’s teasing. He finds himself smiling as he talks, creeping across his face uncontrollably. Fuck, the things Steve does to him. “As if he hasn’t wooed me already. So he’s planned this like, romantic dinner at home. Instead of going out to Enzo’s he wants to like, bring Enzo’s to us? Said he was going to treat me right. Have the fancy dinner I deserve, where we can play footsie under the table and hold hands without, y’know, worrying.”

By the end of his sentence Eddie’s feeling like he’s melting into his chair, insides melting into something soft and gooey. Pulling his hair across his face to hide his blush. Jeff can’t even see him, but he can’t help it. He wants to giggle and kick his feet. Jump and scream and flail around. It’s all building up inside him, this honey sweet affection. He doesn’t quite know what to do with it all. 

“He going to light candles? Have soft music playing in the background?” Jeff asks, teasing melting away into something softer. 

“Literally yes,” Eddie exclaims, dropping his hair and trying not to wiggle too much in his seat. “He’s so sweet, I’m going to throw up.”

“He’s good for you, man.” Jeff says simply, and it means a lot. That other people can see it — can know — just how happy Steve makes him. 

[Part Two]

#steve harrington #eddie munson #jeff stranger things #steddie #steddie ficlet #stwgdailyprompt #My Writing

[kandavers]

I usually don’t like watermarking my artwork (especially the comics) because I think it ruins the immersion a little… Imagine immersing yourself in domestic Welcome Home content and theres a massive “KANDAVERS, DO NOT REPOST” in the middle of it all ;( /lh

But due to the recent turn of events, I will embroider my Username onto each character I draw’s clothes so that I won’t have to worry about Art Theft anymore!!! I might actually TATTOO my Username onto Them even!!! /hj (Actually tho, because it lowkey looks banging asf Hehe) (I drew this out of Spite and Malice but it turned out Great and I’m proud of it so… 0u0)

#kanrambles #kandaversart #kandoodles #welcome home #wally darling #welcome home puppet show #welcome home fanart #welcome home arg #welcome home wally #wh wally #welcome home wally darling #wh wally darling #wally darling x yn #wally darling fanart #wally darling x y/n #yn #y/n #prty coffin #clown illustrations

[jinkicake]

~ ♡ Late Night Visits ♡ ~ 

(( Day #2 )) Aizawa, Dabi, Hawks, Shigaraki x Reader

A/N: i havent written for these losers in months and I haven’t even watched the new season yet but I've seen pics and that’s enough for me.... i had to write for the dilf, the arsonist, the double agent, and the stinky league fan one more time just for fun!-

NSFW // SEMI-SMUTTTTTY

WC - 2,238

~~~

. . .

Aizawa is tired. 

He all but stumbles into his apartment before he carelessly tosses his scarf onto the kitchen floor. With his strong fingers, he roughly pulls at the roots of his hair. 

Almost like thin air, you appear behind him. Had he not been so accustomed to your cold hands, he would have flinched at the feeling of them running underneath his shirt. 

“Are you alright, dear?” You press your cheek into his back as you flatten your hands across his muscular abdomen, it’s no secret that you’re feeling him up but, Aizawa doesn’t mind one bit. If he had any complaints about your (sometimes) odd habits then he would have never married you in the first place. “Did you have a tough night?” 

The gentle kisses you press along his spine, standing on the tips of your toes to reach the back of his neck, make the man sigh in contentment. 

“I’m just tired, that’s all,” He mumbles and it’s a miracle that his words don’t slur together. 

“Sleepy?” You egg on and Aizawa reaches for an empty coffee mug on the counter. 

“Just tired.” He narrows his eyes at the lack of substance in the container, he could have sworn that he filled it up earlier before his patrol. “I still need to finish those exams,”

“I already graded them for you, don’t worry about it,” You coo before you teasingly dig your nails into his sides, Aizawa grunts at the tug. 

It feels odd for the man to not drink coffee right now at almost four in the morning. Still unsure of your motives, he suspects that you don’t expect him to sleep right now.

“Come on, come on,” You push your weight against his back to get him to move but, your husband doesn’t budge a single inch. “let’s go to bed.”

“Let me take a shower first,” He snaps but there is no malice in his words, no threat or anger. It’s more like a gentle nip that makes you roll your eyes. 

“No, I said bed,” Again, you pinch his skin and this time lower your hands to the front of his baggy pants. 

Aizawa gets it now, why you want to drag him to bed instead of force him to go to sleep. In a way, it’s the same thing. You always fuck him to sleep and he falls for it every time with little complaint. 

He has never been able to turn you down.

It’s how he finds himself leaning over the counter, bending over your soft body as he rolls his hips against your ass. You’re much too tight for him to move but, he couldn’t be still even if he wanted to. Aizawa leans on one of his muscular forearms against the cool top of the counter while his hand palms at your breast. You keep squeezing your thighs together and the guttural groans that leave the man because of it are sinful. He’s loud, much louder than he usually is and maybe it’s because of his initial tiredness but you just feel too good for him to care. 

“Are you going to cum for me, Shouta?” Your voice almost sounds like a purr, calling out to him and beckoning him with a backward roll of your hips. The soft giggle that leaves your lips causes his hips to stutter. “Cum in me,”

. . .

When Dabi finds himself pulling out his key to open your apartment, he scoffs. He wants to roll his eyes at this ‘domestic shit’, it pricks him like an uncomfortable thorn in his side. How odd. His heart beats a little faster in his chest whenever he’s around you and whenever he’s not, he finds that the missing beat is replaced with a dull ache. The man will never understand his own bodily reactions and doesn’t want to. He ignores it, like most powerful emotions in his life. 

It’s nearing two in the morning when he finally pushes past the door to your bedroom. His clothes are long gone and now on your floor, phone discarded on your table. He stares at you, in nothing but his boxers, as you rest. 

“Cute,” Dabi hears himself say and again ignores it entirely. He can’t be blamed for it, you really are cute with your leg poking outside of the blanket. From this angle, he can almost see what’s hidden underneath the rise of your pajama shorts. His fingers start to burn as his soul demands to touch you, and like a moth drawn to a flame, Dabi can’t stay away. 

He runs his fingers along your bare thigh, gently stroking your skin higher and higher until he reaches the curve of your ass. It would be so easy for him to push the shorts aside and-

Dabi pulls his hand away.  

Something snaps inside of him as he moves to sit on your bed instead, ultimately laying over you as he stares up at the ceiling. He doesn’t think about his feelings, he doesn’t want to. Dabi continues to ignore the pull even as you squirm out of your slumber. 

“Get off, asshole,” You say this but still attempt to wrap your leg around his waist. When this doesn’t work, you finally sit up and wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

There’s a glint in your eyes that almost makes Dabi nervous. 

“Are you here to fuck now?” You grin and the smile is entirely knocked off of your lips when Dabi pushes you back against the mattress. He relishes in the sound of your laughter, filled with delight, and he tries to think of anything that can compare to it. 

Nothing can but, he doesn’t admit to that. 

He ignores it, like all things related to you, and kisses you instead. In an effort to soothe his racing heart, the man focuses on the push of his lips. He memorizes the way your lips mold into his own, pushing and pulling until your mouth parts open for him. The messy smacks of your lips captive him too well as he lowers himself onto his forearms. 

Dabi swears against your tongue as you spread your legs and wrap your thighs around his broad waist. The dig against his staples makes him bite back another curse but he can’t complain since he gets to feel your ankles pinch his lower back. 

He nearly cums altogether when you loop your arms around his neck and tug on the ends of his dark hair. That’s when his restraint breaks and that’s when he stops kissing you in favor of pinning you back against your mattress with a hand to your throat. 

“Stay still,” Dabi murmurs quietly as he runs his eyes over your exposed belly, the hoodie you were wearing is now pressed over your chest. He lowers his face without a second thought, “and I’ll make you feel good.”

. . .

“Oh, pretty bird,” 

At the sight of your sleeping form, Hawks can’t help but coo in adoration. He immediately sends his wings off in different directions to care for you. One pulls your blanket up higher to rest just under your chin while another brushes a strand of your hair out of your face. 

You’re too sweet, it does terrible things to his heart. 

After his initial greeting, the prohero continues with his nightly routine (the one when he is not on call) while his feathers continue to shower you in love. He removes his outerwear and shoes then heads for the bathroom. 

He isn’t sure when his feathers started to take a more ‘thoughtful’ approach at making sure that you’re comfortable but, all Hawks knows is that he can now hear your moans over the running water from the shower. 

“Keigo!” You curse out his name as you rip the blanket off of you, the vibrations between your own legs are starting to get the better of you. Hawks is now all too aware of the situation, he can practically feel your arousal leaking between your thighs and the little twitch of your clit against his vibrating feathers. 

This is why he never lets his feathers run on autopilot. 

He rinses off quickly, ignoring the soap still trailing down his legs before grabbing a towel and throwing it around his waist. 

“I’m so sorry, babe-” The rest of his apology dies on his lips as his throat runs dry. He thought you were angry and upset since you had every right to be but, this, this sight before him is at the forefront of every single one of his wet dreams. The almighty prohero nearly falls to his knees. 

You’re there, knees bent and spread wide by two of his feathers while another rests against your cunt, and you’re tugging and toying with your own nipples. Each pull of your fingertips makes you gasp out in pain but the ache is quickly soothed by another one of his feathers vibrating against your soft breast. 

Hawks didn’t even know he had that many of his feathers back but, he can’t even think about counting them when he starts to drool. 

“Baby,” He calls out almost pitifully, reaching for you as he crawls on the floor on his hands and knees. You throw him a pointed look before ignoring him to focus on chasing your own high. The slight arch in your back and convulse of your pretty cunt, Hawks knows the telltale signs too well. “please,” He whimpers now before kissing his way up your calf and thigh. 

At some point, he becomes too impatient and decides to trace the expanse of your leg with his tongue. The taste that decorates your skin makes him shiver. 

“Come on,” The hero can beg all that he wants but, his feathers are now in their own control. Hawks couldn’t stop moving them even if he wanted to (not that he ever would). 

In your own way of being generous, you straighten one of your legs and rest the pad of your foot against the thin towel covering his hips. The moan that leaves him is almost embarrassing but Hawks couldn’t care less, he desperately needs more from you. 

. . .

Shigaraki’s eyes burn as he stares at the bright computer screen. For once, it’s not his own screen that he is staring at. It’s three in the morning and you are still in your own little world. 

He’s watching you bitterly as you continue to happily play a shitty farm simulation. Somehow, he’s become so distracted that his C6 Yelan has died multiple times while fighting a pesky low-grade ruin guard. 

Why are you giggling over some pixel flirting with you? Why are you cooing at digital cows?

The need to pull at his light hair becomes stronger and Shigaraki thinks his eyes may fall out if he doesn’t blink in the next handful of seconds. When he manages to tear his eyes away from you, blink, and look back at his phone screen, his entire team is dead. Yelan is gone, Raiden is gone, Kokomi is gone, and Collei is gone. Not like he cared much about the last character. 

He doesn’t even fix his team, he simply closes the app out of frustration before stalking over to you. There’s no effort on his part to be quiet at all and you wordlessly glance over your shoulder when you hear the rough slams of his socks against the hard floor. 

“What?” You hum and barely give him another glance as you go back to brushing your sheep. Shigaraki nearly growls in irritation. 

“Get up,” He narrows his eyes and then instantly regrets his choice of words once you slowly pause your screen. Shigaraki’s legs nearly buckle under the intensity of your glare and he tries to wrack his mind for any possibility to go back on his words before you get the chance to scold him. 

He’s fought proheros before, survived a fucking experiment that took months in the process, and he still can’t face you when you’re angry.

“What?” You keep your face leveled despite the judgment in your eyes. Shigaraki clicks his jaw. 

“I meant, ” He disregards his pride entirely as he looks to a random corner of your room. “Can we sit together please?” It’s your pleasant hum that brings his attention back to you. 

And it’s now his own pitiful moans that serve as a reminder, his pride means nothing in the face of you. 

Shigaraki will gladly suffer blow after blow to his pride if it means that you will sit in his lap and circle your hips while continuing to play your game. Each tight squeeze of your cunt has him gasping for air, roughly gripping the edges of the chair while his hips relentlessly buck up into you. He can’t control the way his gut wrenches and thighs tense as you happily bounce up and down on his cock. Each time you slam your hips down, it nearly crushes his balls and he can’t think of a more blissful feeling. 

“Harder,” He grits his teeth, eyes squeezed shut, as he eagerly awaits the next painful slam. You place your controller down without a second thought before moving again, taking turns rocking your hips and bouncing up and down.

Shigaraki knows what happens when he interrupts your game, you don’t stop until you drain all the cum out of his balls. But, being the masochist that he is, he loves it entirely too much to stop. 

. . .

2023/02/03 ♡

#Aizawa x reader #dabi x reader #hawks x reader #Shigaraki x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #Aizawa smut #dabi smut #hawks smut #Shigaraki smut #mha smut #xiaos spicy almond tofu #this is soooo shitty but idc it reflects my sweet dabi

[crisiscutie]

dollhouse

One of my yandere musings inspired me to write this! I always found the idea of a yandere Sephiroth stealing the darling of Fluffy Sephiroth to be really interesting, so why not do it now? Fair warning though, these are pretty gloomy.

Pairing: AC Sephiroth/Domestic Darling.

Content Warning: NSFW. Noncon. Emotional Abuse. Milk/Nursing Kink. Corruption Kink. Pregnant Darling.

Your weak moans broke the defeaning silence as he languidly fucked your cunt, his hand on your left thigh and the other on your right hip.

Damn your body working against you. Your cunt had a mind of its own; a trembling, gushing, wet mess that relentlessly pleaded for more of him.

But this wicked mockery of the man you loved disgusted your hurt mind.

You wished you were strong enough to support Sephiroth in the fight against his dark mirror...

His slit blue eyes and his twisted smile bore into you and your swollen, pregnant belly. It was clear that in his wicked fantasy mind, he thought this moment between you two was intimate, as if it was natural. It couldn't have been further from the truth, your truth.

"You've never looked so lovely before, my darling," he whispered, his velvety, "sweet" voice tainted with malice. He often tried to mimic your sweet husband to break you, but you always saw right through him. You won't give in. You don't want to.

He increased the power of his thrusts, coaxing a louder moan from your sweet lips, but still keeping that tortuously slow pace.

Oh, how you wanted this to end. How you wanted your Sephiroth back and live the happy life you two had before.

As his hand moved from your hip to your pregnant belly, you clenched your teeth, your protective maternal instincts triggering. No. No. Not your baby. Not what you had left of him.

But as usual, you couldn't move very much. It's like something is keeping your arms down, pinned to the bed. As much as you tried to move against this force, you only arched your back.

Your inner walls tightened around his cock as he delivered a particularly brutal thrust when you failed to respond to him.

"Our child will grow up to be strong. I will be the one to guide her - forever!" He growled.

His vast, dark wing sprouted from his back, wrapping you in its embrace as he continued to stroke your belly.

"You don't need to worry, darling. He's intertwined with me... a part of my very essence," For a brief second, his eyes widened as he said those last words.

He leaned down towards your pregnant belly, his lips hovering close but not quite kissing it.

You didn't react to what he said about your baby. Your focus was on his unsettling words. It's impossible, he couldn't be him. Your Sephiroth is still out there somewhere!

The initially gentle hand on your pregnant belly became possessive and rough as it moved up one of your milk-filled tits.

Your body twitched, a mixture of pain and pleasure unraveling within as he coaxed milk from your engorged nipple, his dark grin slightly widening at your reaction.

"Don't worry, darling. I'll make sure every drop of this precious milk is put to good use."

He squeezed your abused tit harder, reveled in more milk seeping over his hands and your belly. The traces of JENOVA'S imprint within your milk sent him into a primal frenzy.

His luscious lips hungrily latched onto your nipple, his tongue swirled around the flesh as he was determined to make true on his last words.

The thick and creamy liquid danced on his tastebuds, making his chest rumble with a twisted delight.

His cock constantly kissed your cervix, while only ever so slightly increasing his agonizing tempo. Even in his primal frenzy, he's still such a calculating bastard.

He released your nipple with a "pop" when he finally cummed inside you.

You screamed, feeling every drop of his corrupted seed mixing with your cunt juices. It's overwriting your desires and twisting your thoughts to fixate on him.

And it's disgustingly lukewarm, moving within you and coating every part of your insides like it's another entity. Why do you want more of it?!

He had a rare, radiant smile on his face, just like your lost husband. He watched tears streaming down your cheeks, your resistance finally started to melt.

Your husband was weak, he never deserved you... The man with you now could always protect you and your daughter. He could give you everything you ever wanted... Right?

Sephiroth licked the tears from your left cheek, before nuzzling into it and whispering softly in your ear.

"With me, all of my dolls will know true joy."

Next I do Yandere 7R Sephiroth musings? 👀

#sephiroth #ff7 sephiroth #final fantasy 7 #crisis cutie #ff7 #sephiroth x reader #final fantasy x reader #yandere sephiroth #yandere #male yandere #doll darling #yandere male #yandere headcanons #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #pregnant reader #reader smut #x female reader #x reader #x reader smut #x you #x y/n #tw: abuse #tw: pregnancy #tw: yandere

[lilac-5ky]

The one where he refuses to shower (Toji xFem!Reader)

A/N: Decided to launch a series of domestic drabbles for Toji and his wife to practice writing smaller fics and fleshing out my headcanons. All parts can be read separately and in random order.

tags: Toji's naked, but it's fluff.

Series Masterlist

“Nononono, mister.” You quickly hog all four corners of the bed like a starfish stretching its limbs. “You’re not getting in bed in these clothes.”

Toji’s knee is balanced on the edge of the covers, his cream-colored pants looking muddier and bloodier than ever. His green eyes are remarkably harsh while he watches you dog-ear the page of your book and toss it on the nightstand, bracing yourself for the grand face-off between you; the man who makes a living out of dirty business and the woman who cleans after his dirty laundry free of charge.

“Why not?” He has the audacity to ask as if the Bigfoot-sized footprints leading to your bedroom’s door were left by a stranger.

“Because you stink.” Your voice sounds cartoonish as you exaggerate the smell by pinching your nose bridge between two fingers. “Go change or shower—even better.”

Seeing that glint of sheer stubbornness flaring in your eyes, Toji knows you won’t give up. He knows that, and he still finds a way to defy you as he sheds his clothes off and hurries in the opposite direction of the bathroom.

“Go away, Stinky-man!” You whine along with the bedsprings, finding yourself trapped underneath this smug boulder of a man. You flap your hands against his biceps to push him off, but it’s pointless. Toji has you right where he wants you, the scent of his 3-day absence rubbing on every cell of your body.

“Y’are the one who told me to get naked.” He argues, nuzzling his face into the dip of your neck. The light stubble on his chin prickles your skin while he peppers you with kisses that feel more like deep inhales.

“Told you to change and—ugh—shower!” Your legs arch only to fall back onto the bedsheets, unable to make a difference in your brawl.

“Can’t do either without getting naked first, dumbass.”

To your annoyance, he has a point there, and the smell, as bad as you claim it was, is mostly reassuring to you, who worries whether he’ll make it back alive every time the door closes.

You flail a bit longer for the sake of keeping up appearances, your smacks lacking the malice of your words, until Toji rolls off your body and pulls you onto his chest. This is much better. At least you can now breathe without feeling like your lungs are going to collapse inside your ribs.

“You also stink now.” He grins victoriously.

Your husband squeezes you tight in his arms, his body wide enough to use as a second bed. You are the one who nuzzles to him this time, comfortably fitting your head below his chin. His grip relaxes. You can leave whenever you want, but you don’t. You don’t want to.

“You’re the worst.” Your voice reflects your pout.

His fingers comb through your hair. “Must have done something good to be with the best.”

“Now undress.”

#toji x reader #jjk x reader #toji headcanons #toji drabbles #toji fluff #toji smut #toji angst #toji x yn #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: female reader, captivity, possessive behavior, non - consensual touching, hinted past stalking, hinted non - con, i keep making fairy tale references kfjhks My ko - fi <3

You actually feel calm now, almost at peace - although you can never be truly peaceful in the forest, you guess this is as close as it can get. You flip through the pages of the book, scanning the fireplace with the corner of your eye. It needs more wood, but it still keeps the cottage nice and warm. You tug at your big fluffy sweater - and think about just how domestic, how cozy this scene would be if you couldn't hear his footsteps creeping up behind you. You clear your throat and clutch the book closer to your stomach, trying to ignore him - hoping he'll go away if you pay him no mind. And just like the last few times, he sticks around like mud.

"Are you reading those fairytales again?" Raven calls out mockingly, the click of his tongue teasing your ear. He grasps your shoulders lightly, trying to take a peek at your book from behind the chair. You try to close it, but his hands quickly find your wrists, holding them in place. Now hyper - aware of his chest pressing against your back, you give in and let him look as his body heat spreads to your neck. "Such a pretty illustration, isn't it?" He hums to himself, a fox - like grin ruining his delicate features. When you don't respond, he just keeps going. "The knight kills the monster and rescues the princess." He reads the caption under the drawing, playing curious. "They live happily ever after." He flips the page. "The end." He mouths, averting his gaze.

You clench your fists and try to count to ten before you say something you will regret. You don't know why or how, but just one look at his face is enough to set you off nowadays. And anger is a losing battle - anger has you laying across his knees with your panties in your mouth, muffling your pained cries he likes to pretend are moans as he paints your butt red. So you shut up and bide your time.

"How sweet." The man chuckles with malice, quickly turning towards you just like a snake would curl around an unsuspecting little mouse. "I guess life really imitates art. Just like you and me." He observes with a self-satisfied smirk, reaching to light his cigarette. You hate when he smokes inside the house - the nicotine fume sticks to the walls for hours and you start choking and coughing, but he shows little concern for your heath; not that it's a huge surpirse to you.

"What do you mean?" You raise one eyebrow, hoping to at least take your mind off the nasty, overwhelming smell. If he sees your unease, he doesn't mention it, choosing to inhale even deeper, with his full chest. "You're the pretty damsel in distress." Raven explains calmly, charcoal eyes sinking into your vision like claws. It makes you feel naked, vulnerable - dissected to your very molecule. "And I am your knight." He lets his sharp teeth reflect in the dim light. "I saved you from those pesky insects who kept sulling you." You cringe at the way his tongue piercing drags against his canines. Track - track. "Aren't you glad I removed those obstactles for ya?" He gives you a crooked, sarcastic smile. "I think your hero deserves a little reward for all the trouble he went through just for you."

You blink away the tears as you are forced to remember it all in one breath. The police sirens - the investigation. The blood on your family's threshold. The used condoms hanging on your door for all neighbours to see, and the thousand messages calling you ugly names for months on end.

"You're no hero." You mumble under your breath, digging your nails deep into your palms - desperate to keep your tongue behind your teeth. But he hears you - he always does, and he just nods in agreement, coming close. Coming to take you.

Raven stands before you, hovering over you with one hand on the ashtray and the other tilting your chin up so you'd have no choice but to look at him and him alone. "Perhaps you're right." He admits, taking a puff off his long cigarette and blowing it in your face right after - simply in love with the way your eyes narrow in frustrated defiance as you wave away the thick smoke. "Perhaps I am not the hero, but the monster. The dragon." He laughs to himself, stubbing out the burning fag. You don't know what it is that he finds so funny, but you wish you knew so you could laugh along instead of crying.

He cages you in against the sofa, causing you to press even harder against the soft backrest. The message is clear - you'd let the house consume you before you let him as much as kiss you.

"It fits the story nicely, don't you think?" The man remarks, playing with a strand of your hair gleefuly just like a child would. You assume he derives some sick pleasure from touching you so casually - from caressing you, petting you, holding you. It's not even sexual, but it always shakes you to your core, and maybe for him that's the best part - where you can't go anywhere, but in his arms.

"Huh?" You break from your thoughts, growing confused. "Your analogy." He explains while still all over you. "It makes sense. I fought for you, and I won you fair and square." His eyes light up with the ferocity of a hunter. "I wanted you so I took you like the greedy bastard I am. I have no regrets - and if that makes me a villain, then so be it. I will burn the world down if it means you'd be all mine." His fist wraps around your loose locks, almost gentle, but not quite. There is something unnatural in his smile - you can't help, but imagine blood dripping from his chin. "But there is something your magic tales get wrong." Raven whispers diabolically, snapping his fingers. Everything goes dark - and his coat slips down on the floor.

"W-what?" You ask, shaking like a leaf - both afraid and deadly curious. You try to sharpen your senses, but you remain blind to his shadow - and the way it moves right between your legs, positioning them around his hips. You feel his manhood prod at your pubic bone, and you heart sinks to your stomach. "The ending." Your captor mutters, pushing you on your back, and you curse the electronic chair when it goes all the way down with little fight. "The moment when the cards are on the table..." He all but tears off the first button of your shirt. "And the princess is all alone with the monster. Face to face - with nowhere to go."

His tongue is hot on your neck - you try to push him off, but he pins down your wrists with feral force, growling like a wild beast. "And this time no one is coming to save her."

#yandere #male yandere #yancore #yandere smut #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere male x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader

[murdrdocs]

i want to imagine taunting/teasing coryo if u ever get to the position of being the person who he lets cut n trim his hair…… sitting on his lap or on the bathroom counter w/ him standing between ur legs…. seems like a good balance of snark/endearment 🫠

the slight domesticity of it all.

sitting on your bathroom counter, holding the scissors you used only for coriolanus' hair. you consider asking him once more why he doesn’t go to someone who’s better skilled with the shears, but reminders of his previous explanations fluster you enough to not bring it up again.

“i trust you more than someone only looking for my money.”

and each time he said it, it's been impossible for you to hear the deception in his sweet words.

besides, the advantage of cutting coriolanus' hair is that you end up like this, sitting in your favorite position to be in. coriolanus snow standing politely between your spread legs, hands at his sides, his shoulders and chest bare with excess blond curls soon to lightly shroud over his pale skin.

the banter flows easy like this. coriolanus usually telling some ridiculous story about his grandmother (“grandma’am”) or a sweet anecdote about his cousin that’s spoken with entirely too much malice for the nature.

you always end up chastising him for his attitude, and he ends up rolling his eyes at you, only getting even more of an attitude.

when you make your next snip your eyes widen and you gasp lightly. coryos eyes instantly display fear, his face starts to blanch. he gently moves you to the side, leaning over to cover the rest of the distance as he stares in the mirror.

“what? what? did you cut it too short?” he tilts his head this way and that, and all the while you’re poorly holding in a laugh. coriolanus doesn’t notice until he worryingly looks back at you. when you see his face, you can’t help but let the fit of giggles overtake you.

sensing the falsehood of your previous reaction, coriolanus sighs, seemingly holding off his own bout of laughter as he turns his head and looks at the wall of the bathroom. he doesn’t look at you until you tell him you’re sorry, albeit still through laughter.

“just …” coriolanus turns to face you, mainly amusement still on his face with just a hint of frustration in his eyes. “finish my hair.”

you stare up at him with big doe eyes and a matching smile, clearly expecting something else from him.

he sighs once more. “please.”

#celeste writes thg #coryosworld! #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus snow

[moonstruckme]

OK TALL!READER REQUEST W POLY!MARAUDERS SO MAYBE JUST SOME DOMESTIC FLUFF W READER TEASING THE BOYS ABOUT THEIR HEIGHTS AND STUFF? OR MAYBE LIKE SIRIUS AND READER BEING LIKE A CHAOTIC SHORT-TALL DUO?

Thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x tall!reader ♡ 555 words

“Sirius,” you whisper loudly, leaning across the table and schooling your expression into one of concern, “do you want me to ask the waitress for a high chair? Can you read the menu alright from that angle?” 

Dark brows lower as Sirius glares at you. “I’m fine, thanks,” he says, voice dripping with malice that’s probably at least half feigned. That’s what you tell yourself, at least. “Hey, how’s the weather up there? I didn’t realize mountains could walk.” 

“It’s quite nice,” you reply, smiling at him, but James frowns. 

“Oi,” he says warningly. “This here is the prettiest mountain I’ve ever seen.”

Remus laughs quietly behind his menu, and you sigh even as James gives your hand a squeeze of solidarity. You’d tried to make a joke at his expense on the way into the cafe, but it had slipped right by him. When you’d asked if he needed you to hold his hand to cross the street, James insecurity-is-a-foreign-concept Potter had only said “Yes, please” and intertwined your fingers, not faltering even when you’d called him Junior. He’s still holding onto it, but at least his fingers waggling between yours makes a fine consolation prize for your failure. 

“So she gets to make fun of me,” Sirius objects, “but I don’t get to make fun of her back?” 

“Yes.” James bobs his head. “That’s exactly how it works. Way to keep up.” 

Sirius curls his lip at the both of you. “Fine. You can keep each other, and I’ll keep Moony.” He wraps a possessive arm around Remus’ waist, and the other boy only gives him a cursory glance as he’s tugged further down the booth and up against Sirius’ side. 

You give Sirius a pitying look. “Think you can kiss him if he doesn’t decide to lean down and let you?” you ask him. “You should have chosen James, at least you can sort of reach him.” 

Sirius' mouth puckers with an indignance that borders upon violent. “I’ll climb.” 

“Mmm, but some of us don’t have to.” You lean over the table, using your height to drop a kiss on Remus’ head where it’s bent over the menu. He looks up in surprise, and beside you, James' face breaks into a grin as pink spreads across the high points of your boyfriend’s cheeks. 

“I didn’t ask to be dragged into your quarrel,” Remus says, as sternly as he can while his shoulders are pulling slowly towards his ears. 

“Sorry,” you say, and you half mean it, both guilted and endeared by the bashful look in his eyes. 

“Oh, don’t be,” James tells you. “Maybe you’ll remind him he’s alive. Can I have one, lovie?” He beams, closing his eyes and angling his face up towards yours. 

You laugh, pecking his lips. James’ hand whips up, and you can forget how fast he is sometimes, your chin in his grasp before you can get more than a whisper of air between you. He kisses you three more times in rapid succession, only letting go once he’s fully convinced he’s got you dizzy with affection. And you are, blinking dumbfoundedly at your menu as Sirius snickers across the table. 

“Got nothing more to say, have you?” he asks, smug. 

“Shut up,” you mutter. “Or I’ll tell the waitress you’ve asked for a kids menu.”

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x tall!reader #tall!reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x self insert #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders one shot #poly!marauders oneshot #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #the marauders #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[phoenixyfriend]

I think there's a really big difference between "I recognize and respect what the canon is trying to do, but I'll write this thing that goes against it anyway because that's what makes me happy" and "I do not recognize or respect what the canon is trying to do, and am going to do what I like because it makes me feel like I'm smarter than canon."

The former is Anidala writers who just want the sweet and fluffy domesticity in a no-66 AU, because we know it was meant to be toxic and tragic but DAMMIT let us have this. We know they're fucked up and a big part of the message and tragedy is that they're fucked up, but we want to live, if only for a few hours, in that dream Vader had in that one comic l, where Padmé was Supreme Chancellor and they had a son named after Qui-Gon who was also a Jedi. We know it's a dream and a fantasy but It Makes Us Happy.

The latter is people who write the New Mandalorians as enacting cultural genocide and lionize the True Mandalorians because why treat a complex political situation with nuance when you can use a Bad Animation Decision as an excuse to say that Actually the guys with guns are the morally correct party.

"I don't get why people write Anidala as this happy domestic--" delusion is fun and can make you feel better and that's fine if you aren't hurting anyone

"I don't get why people rewrite Satine to reject Mando'a when she speaks more of it than any other named character in TCW and all the signage and writing is in the Mandalorian alphabet--" malice and misogyny, probably

Sometimes, a girl's just gotta complain

#vent post #star wars #fandom #the clone wars #am I a hypocrite? maybe #satine kryze #pro new mandalorians #new mandalorians #true mandalorians #ftr I do like the Haat'ade just not at the expense of the New Mandos #Anidala #phoenix talks

[brujahinaskirt]

look i love john marston once and true i really do but listen if i were ms. abigail roberts

i would have shacked up with arthur so fucking fast after john ditched me his lil possum-man head would have been spinning on his neck way out in whatever hole he was hiding from the smoking ashes of my broken heart in. "stand by your man?" "give him space?" "take a chance that love exists?" no. i would not. i would have simply turned around and brought The Big Hoss to stable with EXTREME marston-negative malice. i know i know, arthur is sooo loyal he wouldn't leave dutch but yes he fucking would. we are not talking about some copypasta y/n buckle bunny here with no distinguishing features. this is ABIGAIL FUCKING ROBERTS. are you telling me if abigail "The Best Person Alive" (Arthur Morgan, "Abigail You're the Best" speech, 1899) roberts walked up to this babytalking Fatherhood And Other Dreams-addicted wifeless Wifeguy with a cooing toddler stuck under her arm and said "arthur you're jack's daddy now. arthur he's soooo small arthur. he's the size of a single grapefruit. arthur we have to protect your microscopic pea-sized incredibly tiny son" he would not have said Yes Maam and split that camp like the ass crack in a pair of Forever 21 jeans. i'm sorry to this woman but if i were Miss Thang the Van der Linde Princess Herself I would never have waited on a man (J*HN M*RSTON) to come crawling back to me. wait for what?????? i would have waltzed up to that sad sagging open concept tent, outstretched my gleaming ex girlfriend eagle talon and snatched mr I'm-a-Lonesome-Cowboy by his barely concealed raging domesticity stiffy and we would have blown that fucking outfit in two shakes and a holler. i would have ZOOMED onto that orhter-mahrrgahn-shaped gravy train at such fucking velocity you would not believe it. dump ME like a rusted can of peaches. oh no no no. could NOT be me. me and MY peaches would have been out of that whole marston sitchuation and making nice with big brother on a little homestead somewhere at mach 1 (one vindictive bitch) speed. leave me with a fucking baby sleeping on the grass. kiss my outlaw ass. not if I'M ABIGAIL FUCKING ROBERTS. john would have come stumbling back a year later dragging his jaw behind him like "huh??? wuut??? MY BABYCAKE IS WHERE??? WITH WHO" and the revelation that the bad bitch he tossed out with his toenail clippings was now eating bon bons or whatever on his brother's knee in callyfornya would car compact john's world into the size of a soup can. but i wouldn't bat one pretty eyelash about it because i would be spending my enormous devoted husband's train robbing funds on exotic fruits and fancy $15 token mugs and other dumb shit. john fucking god damned linguini legs marston. break my goddamn heart?? bet. arthur knows how abigail takes her coffee. jack would not even know who tf john marston is.

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #abigail roberts #THIS IS A JOKE RANT A SIMPLE FUNNY #I LOVE JOHN AND HIS SKINNY LEGS AND I KNOW THEY DID NOT HAVE 15 DOLLAR TOKEN MUGS OR CAR COMPACTORS IN 1899 #SHE COULD HAVE THO #JUST SAYING

[hellenhighwater]

Hey 1) love your cats, 2) love your cats’ names, and 3) do you happen to know what kind of cat Malice is? I adopted a stray from the shelter a few months ago and I’ve been trying to figure out wtf she is as she’s mostly black but got these tufts of slightly gray fur behind her ears that looks a bit like Malice’s ruff. Anyway, wishing you and your delightful army of sins well 💖

Malice, like the overwhelming majority of cats, is just your regular Domestic Cat. A Black Domestic Longhair, if you want to be picky. Most cats do not have an identifiable breed--and the DNA kits that claim to tell you what "breed" your cat is are mostly scams. The reason behind this is that cat breeds are, by and large, a new phenomenon. Dog breeds are much more distinct and well established. Cat breeds, with a few notable exceptions, are not.

So unless there's paperwork from a breeder that says otherwise, odds are you have a lovely DLH. If you want to look at pictures of pedigreed cats that may look similar, then you're looking at the Chantilly Tiffany, though they're considered a very rare breed these days.

[bonefall]

Better Bones: CW List

Can't believe I have to make this disclaimer, but here we are

Better Bones is not a project that aims to fix canon by making the Clans wholesome and unproblematic. Though there can be fun and kindness in it and my philosophy is an optimistic one, It's not an escapist fantasy. It is a story about semi-realistic cats of human intelligence in a violent, war-obsessed theocratic dictatorship, and how they attempt to change it over the years.

Clan Culture is flawed, that is on purpose. Addressing and changing this is what the story is about.

I am very disappointed I have to state this because it should be obvious from my main post where I explicitly say that my goal is to "Address (Canon's) Problematic Elements." Not remove.

If you cannot handle themes or depictions of;

Physical and emotional abuse; Domestic, authoritative, and familial

Child abuse and inter-generational trauma

Somewhat graphic medical discussion, such as abortion, wound infection, and the use of leeches and maggots

The killing and processing of small animals into food, including tanning and butchery

Semi-realistic cat behaviors, specifically marking things with urine

Ableism; both externalized and internalized, Clan culture treats disabled cats poorly and this is something several characters struggle with

Xenophobia; to a violent degree, including stochastic terrorism, hate crime, and discrimination

^^^ read that one again. Consider that on this list twice.

Politics; Authoritarianism, fascism, and liberalism as an enemy, discussion of dog whistles and ideology

"Redemption arcs" of people who did bad things

Cosmic horror and supernatural curses

Graphic violence, including against innocent bystanders, through assault, poisoning, drowning, falling, and even being eaten alive by large fish and demigods.

Animal abuse; Human beings harming cats on purpose and Clan cats generally being terrified of all humans, even kind and loving ones

Clan cats, both villainous and culturally mislead, glorifying these things in-universe, not immediately staring at the camera and breaking character to tell you "This Is A Bad Thing!"

Then Better Bones may not be for you. I would at minimum rate this project as PG-13, but PG-16 would be a more accurate bet.

I have sympathy for you if these are not topics you can handle. My project tackles very upsetting real-world issues and not everyone is looking for something challenging; that's understandable and there's no fault in that. I try to tag appropriately but can't promise to catch everything, so please keep yourself safe.

There are other, softer projects out there run by cool people if this is not for you, and you can add #Better Bones AU to your tag filters and this project will not show up!

But, I'm not responsible for your comfort with my art. If you followed me under the assumption that BB is "Warriors without any ableism/xenophobia/violence" you were mistaken. If you don't have the maturity to act responsibly when something upsets you, or DO have the malice to read a disabled person's work with the most bad faith interpretations you can muster, LEAVE.

#It's better bones not Brand New Bones #better bones au #cw list #masterpost #I'm dead serious get the fuck out. I don't want people like that here #I'm not writing this for the people who couldn't handle steven fucking universe #This is NOT a feelgood happy story with distant lackadaisical problems #A guy gets gutted on-screen and then they sing a song about how cathartic his gruesome death was #Because they all watched him equally gruesomely kill a bunch of innocent people including kids #Bumbs was going to get MURDERED before ThunderStorm bowled in #Really can't believe I'm saying this but guys there are some fucking People out there #Hi! I'm a random weirdo who doesn't follow you type shit #Clans are XENOPHOBIC. #THEY TREAT FOREIGNERS BAD #There is going to be a WHOLE THING about Berry the Evil Educator and how she uses 'proper grammar' to shame and demonize Heart's guardians #christ

[queenshelby]

The Client (Rewritten)

Part One: Starting Out

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (37) & Reader (35)

Note: In this fic Cillian is a lawyer, helping the reader after she becomes a victim of domestic abuse.

It was one of those days again where James was seething with anger. Exhausted from overwork, his mounting stress erupted in a torrent of fury directed at you.

"Didn't I fucking tell you to clean up this mess an hour ago?” he bellowed the moment he barged in at 6 o’clock, his eyes ablaze with disapproval. You knew that yet again, your efforts fell short of his demanding standards.

“James, I am sorry. I lost track of time. I was in the garden…” you faltered, justifying yourself, avoiding his piercing gaze as you spoke.

“When I talk to you, you look at me! Understood?” James hissed as he yanked your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his imposing glare.

"I-I'm sorry, i-it won't happen again, I promise," you whimpered in fear, the sting of his slap still fresh on your face as you crumpled to the floor.

Without warning, he had struck you once more, the scalding tears tracing a path down your cheeks.

"Look at the things you make me do Y/N! I don't want be the bad guy here," James muttered, hoisting you to your feet as you wiped away the evidence of your pain.

“I am…” you attempted to speak, but he cut you off abruptly.

"I am sorry. I overreacted,” remorse etched on his face, though you didn't want his apology, refusing to meet his gaze as he enveloped you in a suffocating embrace.

“Okay,” you choked on a sob, swallowing hard. Words failed you, a suffocating fear gripping your heart.

Nine weeks pregnant with your unborn child, the last thing you wanted was to draw his wrath further. It wasn’t the first time his fists struck you, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last. Amidst his tirades and vicious cycles of abuse, his apologies felt hollow, the promise of change a mere illusion.

"Come on now, Y/N. Some of the senior associates are coming over tomorrow, and I need this place spotless! You don’t want to embarrass me, do you?” James remarked as he released you, prompting you to nod meekly and reach for the vacuum cleaner.

Without wasting a single moment, you attacked the housework, vacuuming and scrubbing with a frenzied determination. Every inch of the furniture received your fierce dusting, and not even the windows escaped your meticulous cleaning. By around 9 o’clock, you had conquered the tasks, but the exhaustion had already settled in.

As you completed your chores, you ascended the stairs to the bathroom, yearning for a brief respite under the warm water. Wrapping a towel around your trembling frame, you hastened to your bedroom to change into something more comfortable, but your attire failed to appease your husband's dissatisfaction.

“For once, could you not make an effort for me? I am your husband, after all,” James seethed, his breath reeking of alcohol as he barged into the room, making his presence felt.

He must have faced a brutal day, likely losing a pivotal legal battle, a realization that spelled trouble for you.

“Please, James, not now,” you pleaded, your words trembling with fear as he advanced towards you menacingly.

"You are mine. You will obey. If I desire, you will submit. You are good for nothing else," James growled, his tone dripping with malice as he forcefully pushed you against the wall, his grip tightening.

"James, please, I'm pregnant. You know this," you cried out amidst tears, attempting to evade his suffocating presence.

"So what?" James spat venomously. "That doesn't exempt you from my needs. On your knees, now," he commanded, gripping your hair and throat mercilessly, his wrath escalating.

"Stop! Just stop!" you begged, your voice breaking as you struggled against his brutal advances, triggering his unchecked fury.

He suddenly kicked your stomach, first once and then twice and slapped you till your face was bleeding once again.  

He was full of rage, and you couldn't make it stop. You were just going to let him do this to you because you didn’t have any strength anymore to fight him. You started seeing dark everywhere and before you knew it you blacked out.

Hours later, you woke up at the local hospital, engulfed by searing pain and exhaustion. Despite the haunting memories of what had befallen you, you chose to keep silent about the truth.

“I fell down the stairs,” you feebly explained to the nurse, offering a feigned facade. Unfamiliar with your history, she dismissed it as a minor accident.

But beneath her seemingly indifferent exterior, a flicker of concern burned brightly. As she somberly delivered the news of your lost child, you found a peculiar solace in the revelation, casting shadows of doubt on your inner turmoil.

“You appear oddly composed despite your loss. Is there anything I can do for you? I can arrange for a psychologist or call your husband to be here with you,” the nurse endeavored to comfort you, sensing an unseen weight upon your shoulders.

“The pregnancy was not planned. I didn't really want another child, so I will be fine,” you mumbled uncertainly, concealing the painful truth that your husband had manipulated you into this plight.

As you pondered your bleak predicament, the specter of freedom beckoned. Yet, with nothing to your name, escape seemed as elusive as a wisp of smoke.

“But, actually…” you hesitated just as the nurse was about to depart.

“Can you please call my brother for me? I don't have my phone on me, and I don't have a wallet either,” you implored, hoping against hope that the nurse would grant you this one favor and that your brother would pick up your call after almost a decade of silence.

“Of course, use my phone,” the nurse offered kindly, extending the lifeline you sought. With Dermont's number etched into your memory, you dialed it, engulfed by a mix of trepidation and longing.

After about three rings , a rough, familiar voice answered, "Who is this?"

"It's me. Please don't hang up ," you blurted out hastily, anxious the nurse wouldn't witness the conversation unfold given how you had parted ways with Dermont many years ago.

A brief pause followed, and your breath hitched, amplifying the suspense.

"Y/N," he finally said, his tone laced with surprise and perhaps a sliver of compassion. The name he hadn't uttered in so long seemed to weigh upon him, dragging up dusty memories of a shared past.

"I'm at the hospital. Can you come? I need your help. I have nowhere else to turn," you murmured into the phone, your voice cracking with unshed tears.

The heaviness of those words hung in the air, enveloped by a thick silence. You could barely discern whether he was mulling over your request or simply wrestling with the fervent desire to hang up.

"Which hospital?" Dermont asked, his tone now a shade softer. It seemed there was always a piece of him, deep within his heart that wouldn't abandon you despite your troubled past.

"Mater Private. I'm on the fourth floor," you mumbled as you swallowed the lump in your throat, anticipating the decision that could change the trajectory of your life forever.

"All right. I'm on my way," Dermont reassured, trying to hide the unease lacing his voice.

The phone call terminated, leaving you on tenterhooks, the enormity of your actions mercilessly sinking in.

The nurse watched you with gentle eyes, a silent understanding passing between the two of you. A whirlpool of agonizing vulnerability consumed you, spreading barbed tendrils of panic but somehow you knew that, at least for now, you were safe. Dermont would be coming from you and you would not have to face James again. 

Hours later, at Cillian's House....

It was around midnight when Cillian’s phone rang, ripping him out of his sleep.

“Jesus, why is someone calling you so late?” Janette, Cillian's paralegal, yelped while laying next to him. She pulled the doona over her face to cover her ears, trying to block out the unexpected interruption. Cillian and her had been entangled in an on-and-off romance for a few months now. It wasn't anything serious, just innocent fun on restless occasions.

“It’s a friend. It’s probably urgent,” Cillian murmured to her before taking the call and, as Dermont's panicky voice flooded his ears, a sense of urgency gripped him.

Barely shaking off the dregs of sleep, he scrambled out of bed, his actions fueled by instinct.

"What's going on, Dermont?" Cillian asked hurriedly, his mind shifting gears as he mentally prepared to handle whatever crisis his friend was in. 

“I urgently need an AVO. It can't wait,” Dermont nervously admitted and Cillian could hear the strain in his voice. 

"What the fuck for?" he wanted to know, thinking that Dermont had gotten himself in trouble and what he heard next made him forget all about his restless night.

"It's for my sister, Y/N. I swear, she needs it urgently. She's at the hospital because her sick bastard of a husband did beat her up again," Dermont explained and the sudden mention of your name made Cillian bolt upright. 

"How bad are her injuries? Is she alright?"  Cillian queried urgently, concern etching lines onto his face. The strong defenses he had erected around his heart began to weaken, an unspoken history pulling him under. Despite having lost touch with you just over sixteen years ago, memories of you remained vivid.

Dermont sighed before replying, "The doctors and nurses managed to deal with the damage. She's alive but she her entire body is covered in bruises,"  Dermont's voice cracked, conveying his helplessness at the distance that had grown between them after all these years.

"Did she report him to the police?" Cillian asked through clenched teeth, his cool demeanor betraying an intense surge of anger.

"Not yet. She's scared, man. She is really scared," Dermont whispered, the weight of his words settling menacingly in the air. 

"Listen, there is nothing we can really do tonight. You need to take her to the shelter on York Street. She'll be safe there. They provide emergency accommodation in cases like this. Come to my office with her tomorrow morning, at 8 o’clock and we'll start the paperwork,” Cillian advised, his mind racing through scenarios to ensure everyone's safety.  "Oh, and Dermont, get her a prepaid phone. She shouldn't be using hers in case her husband is tracking her," Cillian added as an afterthought, knowing that dangerous men like James often went to great lengths to control and harm their victims.

"Thanks, man," Dermont responded appreciatively, the reality that his friend was offering a much-needed olive branch sinking in.

"Of course. I will see you both tomorrow," Cillian agreed as he terminated the call with a sense of purpose coursing through his veins. As he glanced at Janette, who had since emerged from beneath the covers, a spark of clarity illuminated his eyes.

"What happened?" she wanted to know as Cillian climbed back into bed beside her.

"My friend's sister needs an AVO. Her husband has been beating her for a while I think and she just ended up in hospital tonight," Cillian pensively uttered the words as he slipped back into bed, disrupting the tranquility of the room that suddenly seemed tainted by the overwhelming gravity of the situation.

Janette blinked, slowly awakening to this revelation and the evident distress on Cillian's face. 

"I don't get it," she said softly. "Why are you even getting involved in this? You no longer do this kind of work and should refer her to Legal Aid rather than taking this case pro-bono which I know is what you are going to do." 

Cillian let out a sigh before replying, "Because he is my best friend, and I knew her from when we were young. We basically grew up in the same neighborhood."  he clarified, while absentmindedly toying with a loose thread on the blanket.

"Okay sure," she replied, immediately lapsing into a trance-like silence. With furrowed eyebrows and a partly sealed mouth, Janette's disapproval lingered uncomfortably in the room. "But honestly, do you even think that she will accept your help? If her husband has been doing this to her for a while, then she might even go back to him after a you bring a lawsuit," Janette interjected, the skepticism evident in her voice. "She's obviously got mental issues. Women who allow men to do this kind of stuff for a prolonged period of time usually have other things going on with them Cillian and you may not be able to save her," Janette persisted, exposing her doubts about the situation at hand.

Cillian felt a pang of defensiveness on behalf of you which was something he hadn't seen in over a decade and a half. "She isn't that type of woman, trust me. I knew her quite well," he stated emphatically, as he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair before sighing deeply. "Let's just get back to sleep, alright?" he then murmured, draping an arm around Janette's waist. But his mind remained restless, preoccupied with thoughts of your predicament and, to make matters even worse, when had fallen back asleep, Cillian's thoughts drifted back to their shared past, resurrecting memories of a time when life seemed infinitely simpler.

One evening in particular entered his mind. It was a cold autumn night just over sixteen years ago. You had just turned 18 the month before and Cillian was visiting Cork during his Semester break.  It was Dermont's 20th Birthday and Cillian had traveled all the way from Dublin to join the celebration. 

Spotting you in the corner of the room that evening, Cillian's pulse quickened as usual. He had been feeling this irresistible pull towards you for years, but never had the courage to utter a word about it. 

"Hey," he finally said, approaching you timidly, holding a little parcel in his hand. 

"Oh hey. I didn't even know that you were coming," you responded excitedly as you spotted him.

Your smile was as dazzling as ever, bathing his heart in warmth.

"Well, I wouldn't miss your brother's birthday for the world," Cillian replied with a wink, handing over the present wrapped in shiny blue paper.  "And this is for you I suppose. I am sorry it is a bit late. So, happy belated18th birthday," he told you, his heart pounding in his chest like a wild drum.

"You shouldn't have gotten me anything," you smiled as you unwrapped the gift with your slender, small fingers revealing a bracelet featuring your favorite animal.

"Oh wow, Cillian. Thank you," you exclaimed, that warm smile lighting up your face once more, sending a flutter through Cillian's heart.

"I'm glad you like it," Cillian replied, his own mouth curving into a grin as he marveled at your unbridled delight. "I first thought getting you jewelry was weird, but I don't know, when I saw it, it seemed really fitting somehow,"  he confided, a certain vulnerability in his voice which you found both surprising and endearing.

Your fingers grazed the intricately designed silver badger, its keen little eyes gazing back at you, seeming almost fiercely protective. 

"It's perfect," you told him before leaning in to kiss his cheek.  The gesture was innocent, yet it ignited a lingering warmth between you two - a feeling that left Cillian both thrilled and lovesick.

The night wore on, and the party dwindled to a close, but that brief encounter remained etched in Cillian's memory. He sought you out a few times that evening and, eventually, he found you outside, enveloped by the chill of the night. The atmosphere was saturated with a heavy silence, the hushed rustling of leaves playing an eerie melody in the darkness. The soft glow emanating from the house cast shadows upon the garden as he hesitantly approached.

"Avoiding the drunken crowds?" Cillian asked as he sat down next to you on the big swinging bench which you always assumed to be from the seventies. In his hand, he held a pint of Guinness and you reached for it to take a sip.

Your fingers made contact with his, setting off a current that surprised both of you. "I almost forgot that you are old enough to drink now ," Cillian mentioned, trying to bring the electricity in the air back down to normal levels.

"It's not my first sip of beer, but don't tell alright?" you chuckled , before cautiously taking a mouthful of the bitter drink.

Cillian's lips spread into a warm smile, enjoying your carefree laughter. It was a sound he wished to hear more often, although he realized he knew very little about what made you truly happy. "Scout's honor," Cillian nodded, the corner of his lips twitching in a soft smile.

The frosty night descended around you, weaving in the shared quietness and the stirring breeze.

As you handed the beer glass back to Cillian, you brushed your fingertips gently against his, the little shock still radiating like a cozy secret between the two of you. Cillian studied your face, reading the emotions swimming at the surface of your eyes. Something so genuine and comely: it was invigorating, and he couldn't seem to glance away.

"I know I've never said this, but honestly, I always quite liked you, you know ," Cillian quietly admitted, baring his soul to you. Opening up to his best friend's younger sister—the girl he pined for relentlessly throughout adolescence—felt both breathtaking and slightly terrifying.

"Really?" you queried, attempting to keep your wavering voice steady. "Why didn't you say something?" you asked, the words barely audible, as a nervous flutter rose within you. Your fingers toyed with the hem of your sleeve, mirroring the tumultuous storm brewing within your heart.

Cillian let out a soft chuckle before answering, "I'm not sure, really. You were young, and I was neither mature nor brave enough to express my feelings. I don't know,"  Cillian said with a shake in his voice, bashfully lowering his gaze. The vulnerability emanating from his statement filled you with a deep warmth, especially when he raised his eyes to meet yours again.

As you stared at each other, a wave of intensity rippled between you. "I kinda liked you too , y'know," you confessed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You couldn't tear your gaze away from the depth of Cillian's ocean blue eyes.

"In fact, I always had the biggest crush on you but just when I was ready to tell you were dating Siobhan O'Connor and  I hated that. I thought you would never notice me," you admitted nervously.

Cillian looked taken aback, as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

"What? That can't be," Cillian countered. "Of course, I noticed you! You had always been the most beautiful girl at every party we went to," Cillian cheerfully insisted, causing a soft blush to grace your cheeks. 

"Do you still think so?" you asked, your voice barely audible as a shiver of anticipation coursed down your spine. You shuffled closer, your breath hitching when your thighs brushed tantalizingly against Cillian's. Suddenly, he felt like the only solid thing in a world of chaos.

Cillian's gaze dropped to your lips, and in that moment, he knew that you two had been dancing around each other for far too long. 

"Yes, I do. You are beautiful,"  Cillian whispered hoarsely, leaning in to cup your face gently. Your eyes fluttered shut, and his lips met yours in a searing kiss that turned the world upside down. Every fear, every moment of hesitation dissipated like smoke in the night, replaced by the thunderous wave of desire.

You hesitated at first, unsure of how to react to the sudden turn of events as you had never been touched with such tenderness, and it took a moment to adjust.

Yet, as Cillian deepened the kiss, you realized that something seemed to awaken within you—a heavy hunger you didn’t know existed.

With shaky hands, you reached for his face, tracing your fingers his jawline. Cillian reacted with a low groan, tightening his arms around your waist. You tugged at the bottom edge of his sweater, desperate to feel more of him pressed up against you.

"Do you want to go to my room?" you murmured, pulling away just enough to speak. Your voice was barely above a whisper, but Cillian heard you loud and clear as if it was the most reasonable thing anyone has ever asked him. Albeit sensing your nervousness, he nodded and, shortly after that you led him to your room while everything around you seemed to blur.

You locked the door behind you, taking a brief moment to survey the room that was once yours but now seemed foreign.

The single bed was pushed against the wall, and a vanity littered with makeup and hair supplies occupied the other corner. But all of that faded into the background as you turned to face Cillian.

"We probably shouldn't tell Dermont about this," you murmured with a hesitant smile and Cillian chuckled softly, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face.

"Probably not," he replied, caressing your cheek gently.

As he leaned in to kiss you once more, you could feel the heat rising between you two. Your breath hitched as his hands roamed your body, and you clung to him greedily, running your fingers through his hair.

Cillian's fingers found the hem of your shirt, slipping under it to touch the warm, smooth skin beneath.

You shivered nervously  , but didn't stop him. Instead, you pulled him closer, your fingers digging into his back.

Cillian kissed you harder, his tongue exploring your mouth. His hands moved up to cup your breasts, and you arched your back, moaning into his mouth.

You could feel his hardness pressing into your hip, and you reached down to touch him over his jeans.

Cillian hissed, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. "Fuck, Y/N," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.

You bit your lip, feeling reckless and wild. "I never, you know , did it before," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I want to, with you."

"Are you sure? We don't have to,"  Cillian said, searching your face for any signs of hesitation or uncertainty. But you only saw concern and care in his eyes - a stark contrast to the hunger and desire that had consumed you both just moments earlier.

"I'm sure," you whispered, reaching up to pull him down onto the bed with you for another kiss. Your bodies pressed together, and you could feel the heat radiating from him. Cillian's hands roamed your body, tracing the curves of your waist and hips before settling on the button of your jeans.

With trembling fingers, he undid the button and slid the zipper down, revealing the lacy red thong that lay beneath.

You watched him, your breath hitching as his gaze dropped to your lower half. Cillian swallowed hard, his throat dry as he saw the dampness seeping through the fabric of your underwear.

"Fuck, Y/N," he whispered, his voice ragged. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of your jeans and dragged them down your legs, leaving you laying there in just your thong and your snug fitting t-shirt.   The anticipation coiled tight in your belly while you watched him stand and remove his own clothes, letting them fall to the floor where his shoes already lay discarded.

His body was lean and covered in freckles. Your eyes were drawn to the firm muscles of his abs, your gaze tracing the lines and ridges formed by his body. Then they wandered lower, to the bulge pressing against the fabric of his briefs. 

You quickly sat up and pulled off your t-shirt , tossing it aside with eagerness, revealing your bare breasts for the first time to his gaze. 

You sat there nervously  , anticipation and excitement coiling in your belly. Your nipples hardened under his gaze and you couldn't help but feel self-conscious.

"You're so beautiful, Y/N," Cillian said, as he knelt on the bed and crawled towards you, trailing his fingers over your skin. You inhaled sharply and leaned back to allow him access. He gently caressed one breast and then the other, before leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth. You gasped as his hot mouth closed around it, and your body trembled under his touch.

The sensation of his tongue swirling around your nipple sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, pooling in your core.

You let out a low moan, arching your back as he teased you. Your hands roved over his back, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your fingertips. Cillian's hand traced a path from your breasts, down your stomach, until he reached the apex of your thighs.

He hooked his finger into the hem of your thong and slowly pulled it down your legs, leaving you bare and vulnerable beneath him.

You couldn't help but feel a shiver of anticipation run down your spine as he stared at your naked body, taking in every inch of you.

His gaze was intense, filled with desire and longing.

His eyes met yours, and he leaned in to kiss you deeply.

His tongue plunged into your mouth, dancing with yours in a sensual rhythm that mirrored the movements of his fingers.

Cillian gently explored the folds of your pussy, discovering your slick wetness and groaning into the kiss.

He slipped a finger inside you, and you gasped at the sensation, your hips bucking upwards to meet his touch. He added a second finger, stretching you open and preparing you for what was to come.

Cillian broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck and over your collarbone. He suckled at your breasts, teasing your hard nipples with his tongue before continuing his journey down your body.

He planted soft kisses along your stomach, inching lower and lower until he reached the apex of your thighs. You spread your legs wider, allowing him access to the most intimate part of your being, the scent of your arousal heavy in the air.

Cillian wasted no time in exploring you further, spreading your lips apart with his thumbs and diving his tongue into your wetness. You cried out, your fingers finding their way into his hair, holding him in place as you ground yourself against his face.

"Holy shit, I didn't expect that," you panted, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as his tongue flicked expertly against your clit.

Cillian groaned against your wetness, his hands spreading you wider open as he feasted upon you. The sensation of his tongue delving into your most intimate places was almost too much to bear, and you struggled to keep your sanity as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"Don't stop," you pleaded, your fingers tightening in his hair as a wave of pleasure washed over you.

"Cillian, please, don't stop." Your voice was a breathy whisper, urging him to continue his assault on your senses.

Cillian eagerly obliged, redoubling his efforts and bringing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. His tongue fluttered against your clit, and his fingers plunged deeper inside you, curling up to stroke the sensitive spot within.

The sensation was indescribable, and you felt your orgasm building, spiraling higher and higher until it threatened to consume you entirely.

"Cillian!" you shouted his name as your release crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your body shuddered, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.

Cillian didn't relent, his tongue continuing to circle and flick against your sensitive clit, drawing out your orgasm for what felt like an eternity. When you could finally take no more, you pushed his head away gently, panting and gasping for air. He looked up at you with satisfied eyes, crawling up your body to kiss you deeply, sharing the taste of your release with you.

It was the strangest but most satisfying experience , feeling his face slick with your desire, knowing that it was because he had pleasured you in the most earth-shattering way possible.

He brushed the hair away from your sweaty forehead, murmuring sweet words of love and adoration.

"You taste fucking delicious," Cillian whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine as his lips traced the shell of your ear.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close for another searing kiss.

As you were kissing, you reached into his briefs , wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft. Cillian hissed, his hips bucking forward as you began to stroke him firmly.

"Goddamn, Y/N," Cillian growled, his blue eyes dark with desire as he watched your every move. "You're going to make me come like this."

"That's the idea," you purred, rubbing your thumb over the head of his cock, spreading the bead of pre-come that had gathered there.

"No, really," Cillian tried to sound stern, but even he could hear the barely concealed desperation in his voice. You chuckled and continued your assault, your hand moving faster and faster along his length. "I wanted this for so long. I need to feel you. All of you,"  Cillian moaned, as you released his manhood from the confines of the briefs. His cock was thick and pulsating with need, and you couldn’t help but marvel at its size and girth. Cillian leaned back, resting himself on his knees, giving you the perfect view. His muscles rippled in the dim light, and the sweat glistening on his skin only added to his allure.

He pushed his briefs all the way off , tossing them to the side and leaving him completely bare.

You couldn't take your eyes off him, mesmerized by the sight of him fully naked before you. He was a work of art, and you couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the male form before you.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Cillian asked, his voice low and husky. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Y/N."

But you knew what you wanted.

"I want to, Cillian. I want all of you," you whispered and, with that, Cillian was on top of you, his lips crushing down on yours in a passionate kiss.

You could feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh, and you couldn't help but squirm underneath him, eager for him to enter you.

"Please, Cillian," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you inside me."

Cillian didn't need any further encouragement. He positioned himself at your entrance, his tip brushing against your slick folds. He hesitated for a moment, savoring the feeling of your wetness against him.

Then, with a slow and deliberate thrust, he entered you, filling you up completely. You gasped as he bottomed out inside you, your walls stretching to accommodate his size.

"Shit," you whispered, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Don't move yet," you begged, still adjusting to the sensation of him inside you.

Cillian obeyed, resting his forehead against yours, his chest heaving with the effort of holding back. You could feel the pulse of his cock inside you, and it sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body.

"How does it feel?" Cillian asked, his voice strained. You could see the strain in his eyes too, the effort it took for him to hold back.

"Strange. But in a good way," you replied quietly, your breath hitching as he shifted inside you, causing your walls to clench around him.

"Does it hurt? Do you want me to stop?" Cillian whispered, concern etched on his face.

"No, no, I want more," you reassured him, your hands roaming down his back and gripping his firm buttocks.

Cillian took your cue and began to move, slowly at first, allowing you both to adjust to the sensation. With each thrust, his cock hit a sensitive spot inside you, eliciting a gasp every time. The smell of sweat and sex filled the room, and your bodies slapped together, creating a primal symphony that echoed through the space.

"Oh god , don't stop," you panted, your legs tightening around Cillian's waist as he thrusted into you gently, but precisely.  Your bodies melded into one, slick with sweat and desire, every movement bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Cillian's thrusts became more insistent, and your moans grew louder as he hit that spot inside you that made your toes curl.

"I can feel how wet you are for me, Y/N," Cillian whispered, his voice husky with lust.

He kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring the corners of your mouth as he continued to thrust into you.

You moaned against his lips, your legs wrapped around his waist as you took every inch of him. The friction of his cock rubbing against your sensitive walls was driving you crazy, and it didn't take long before you felt another orgasm building inside you.

Cillian must have felt the same because he started to build his own rhythm, driving himself harder and faster into your writhing body.

"I am so close. Oh god fuck," you panted, your fingers digging into Cillian's back as your body tensed up and you released a loud moan . The intensity of the orgasm shook you to your core, making you dizzy and disoriented. Your walls clenched around Cillian's cock, the sensation sending him over the edge.

With a loud groan, Cillian came inside you, his cock pulsing as he filled you up with his warm seed. He collapsed on top of you, his body trembling as he caught his breath. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as your bodies slowly came down from the intense high.

Cillian's breathing was heavy, his heart pounding against your chest. You could feel his sweat mingling with yours, creating a sticky mixture that coated your skin.

"Fuck, Y/N," Cillian whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "That was intense," he gasped and you moaned loudly again as he slowly pulled out.

"Yes it was," you agreed, shivering as the cool air touched your wetness. You could feel Cillian's warmth seeping out of you, merging with the sticky fluid that dripped down to your thighs. The sensation was oddly comforting and erotic at the same time, causing you to lick your lips in anticipation.

Cillian leaned in to kiss you once more, but before you could reciprocate, there was a sudden knock on the door.

"Y/N, are you in there?" you heard your brother ask and you quickly covered Cillian's mouth with your hand before responding.  "Yes, Dermont, what do you want?" you said, trying to compose yourself. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you could still feel Cillian's warmth seeping out of you.

Cillian shot you a puzzled look, but you just shook your head slightly, indicating that he should stay quiet. He looked confused but thankfully didn't protest.

"I was looking for Cillian. Do you know where he went?" your brother asked and you were quick to respond.

"Nope , I haven't seen him," you lied, trying to hide the panic in your voice. Your heart was racing, and your body still hummed with pleasure from the intense lovemaking session you had just shared with Cillian. You could feel a blush creeping up your neck as you tried to remain calm.

"Alright," Dermont said, sounding disappointed. "Well, I'll catch up with him later then. If you see him, let him know that he left his  phone in the living room," Dermont said, his footsteps retreating down the hallway.

As soon as you heard the front door close, you let out a sigh of relief.

"That was close," you whispered to Cillian, who was still lying on top of you and  he chuckled, his breath hot against your ear.

"Too close," he agreed and then he kissed you once more before having to say his farewell for the evening. It was one and only time you had slept with each other before Cillian returned to Dublin for his studies and you went to Australia for your gap-year and whilst Cillian had promised to wait for you, life had other plans. 

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred

#cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy