astraljedi

[astraljedi]

Reblog if you're a fanfic writer and you wanna know what your followers' favorite story of yours is ❤

[astraljedi]

And, baby, that’s show business for you. New album The Life of a Showgirl. Out October 3  ❤️‍🔥

https://taylor.lnk.to/TSTheLifeofaShowgirl

Album Producers: Max Martin, Shellback and Taylor Swift 📸: Mert Alas & Marcus Piggott

[astraljedi]

happy salt air and the rust on your door month to those who celebrate

[astraljedi]

<3

[astraljedi]

Hi! Little reminder that I'm currently on a writing break

I still want to highlight some recent fics I’ve uploaded over the past couple of months. I’m still busy with work and haven’t had much time to sit down and write, but I’m around, still reblogging and yapping. Thank you for all the support!

Gods & Monsters (Tommy Miller) Summary: Your father has agreed to an arranged marriage—for you, his youngest daughter—to Tommy Miller, the Latino mafia boss who’s ruled the city for years. For protection, power, and business, he traded you to the man known as a god to those who stand with him, and a monster to those who don’t.

Long Story Short (Tommy Miller) Summary: After arriving in Jackson, you reunite with Tommy Miller—an old flame you haven't seen in over twenty years. And as you and your daughter try to settle into your new reality, old feelings, regrets and past scars resurface.

Baby Daddy (Jesse TLOU) Summary:Everyone in Jackson rooted for them—childhood best friends, first loves, and young parents. Now they’re just co-parents. But you don’t forget your first love. Especially when he’s your baby daddy, who still makes you laugh, nervous, and is the best father to your daughter.

Miss Americana AU Series (Joaquin Torres x President's Daughter Reader) Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 Papasito (Joaquin Torres) Summary: I saw him across the dance floor and knew—I needed him. And being with him? That's something I'll never recover from.

Dirty Roommate Series (Joaquin Torres) - Dirty Laundry Summary: You ask your roommate Joaquin for a favor—but when he finds your little secret friend, he decides to return the favor. Just you, him, and your favorite toy… turning a shitty night around. - Dirty Dining Summary: When Joaquin overhears you talking about a certain smut scene during your book club meeting, he makes it his mission to help you relive the fantasy.

[astraljedi]

Permanently stop writing. Not everyone should be a writer and that’s okay

???

[astraljedi]

cw// squirting, dumbification

somethings different, clark can feel it.

and he doesn't why.

he's pounding into you the same way he usually does, rubbing your clit the same direction, whispering the same praises as usual... but something is different.

in all honesty, no—not everything is the same. tonight, you both decided to try and push past your limit to see how far you could go during sex with clark.

your mind was foggy with pleasure and your eyes were rolled back into oblivion, the sensation of the veins running down his cock grinding against your slick walls had rendered you stupid. your speech wasn't even coherent anymore—every other word was slurred and your sentences bled through eachother.

he wasn't much better either—his cheeks were an interesting shade of pink and his curls were frizzy, canines biting down into his lips to stop himself from cumming too quick. his mind was a bit clearer than yours, and he could still form somewhat correct sentences like, "j-just like tha– oh my- fuck, it's so warm and— shit..." which only contributed to making you go even dumber.

but this, all of this, was the norm during sexual encounters like these. so why couldn't he shake off the feeling that something was different?

a suddenly clear sentence from your interrupted his thoughts, "holy shit– clark, I'm g'nna cum! gonna cum so fucking hard, i– shit, it feels—" and he knows to double down, intensifying every movement of his.

then, he heard things. truly unusual things.

he heard you heart beat at a pace he's never heard from you before, he heard your blood rushing around your veins faster than it ever did, and he heard... liquid?

though his hearing was disturbed by a loud cry from you, a sweet and desperate "m'cumming, m'cumming!" that had him moaning almost as loud as you did.

what took him by surprise, however, is that right when he was expecting the usual increase in wetness and contractions, he got something entirely new.

liquid. streams of your cum coming out in short squirts, seemingly following the rhythm of at which he was rubbing your clit. it was so messy and warm and sticky, and then he looked at your face, and saw an expression of utmost pleasure right before his body contracted and almost crumbled before you as he felt your pussy squeezing down on him like never before.

clark kent was surrounded by lust, by pleasure—blinding, intoxicating, and so fucking good.

so he succumbed.

he gave in.

he suddenly grabbed you and pulled you up from the bed, wrapping his arms around your head and holding you flush against him as his hips involuntarily kept bucking into you, his cock uncontrollably twitching inside your wet cunt before he spilled into you, moaning your name so loud you both were positive the entire neighborhood got a piece of the situation, filling you to the brim with his seed.

your ograsms lasted longer than normal, sending you into an ecstatic haze that had the both of you shaking and twitching.

when it ended, you both finally collapsed on the bed, sticking to eachother thanks to the liquid evidence of your pleasure.

"s-shit... I didn't.. I didn't know this would happen I'm sorry about the– about the sheets.." you apologized between pants, gulping down the saliva that had pooled inside your mouth.

he chuckles, caressing your shoulders lightly, "its okay... I didn't know you could.. squirt." and he looks at you with his kryptonian eyes, like a predator about to bounce on his prey.

"I know what you're thinking but you're gonna have to wait atleast two weeks for me to even think about attempting that again."

"oh, come on!"

[astraljedi]

I'm watching the Hot Ones Versus between Anthony and Danny for research purposes, and had to pause a second to write something down. But the screen paused at this moment and I just had to take a screenshot of this 😂

that man was going through it

[astraljedi]

No, because these two are the perfect example of my actual type. I swear, if I could upload a picture of my old situationships, you’d understand 😅😂

There’s even a photo of Danny where he looks exactly like an ex and every time I see it on Pinterest or Tumblr it reminds me of them

[astraljedi]

Credit to @buckyytorres for supplying me with drugs Danny pics 🫶

[astraljedi]

You listen to me, MARVEL. You better not touch a single hair on this precious, bubblegum golden retriever, three-apples-high MAN. Got it?

Thank you 🫶🏻

[astraljedi]

Hi guys! I’m going to be taking a little break from writing for a while. You might see some reblogs and yapping but I won’t post any fics. I really need to step back and focus on work + I’m going through a horrible writers block.

I really hate writers block and when I don’t feel like my writing is good enough. Hope to come back with better ideas and fics for you guys that I also love ❤️

[astraljedi]

Gods & Monsters (Tommy Miller AU)

Summary: Your father has agreed to an arranged marriage—for you, his youngest daughter—to Tommy Miller, the Latino mafia boss who’s ruled the city for years. For protection, power, and business, he traded you to the man known as a god to those who stand with him, and a monster to those who don’t. Warnings: arranged marriage, violence (guns, blood, physical fights), Implied threats, MDNI 18+ only. Word Count: 2K+ A/N: Oh, just a little idea I had randomly at midnight. Let me know what you guys think and if I should continue this into a series 🤪 -

There’s a sudden shift in air—from the warm, bright hallway to my father’s cold, dark office, is unsettling. The weight in the room is heavy, papá already pouring himself three fingers of whiskey into a glass at his desk. I barely enter this room, it’s not allowed unless he summons us. Today is the exception. He’s rounded up my older brothers to the office and me. Either he was sick, there’s a threat, or worse—he’s about to harass us with the talk of future heirs and the importance of our family’s lineage. 

Samuel, my oldest brother, offers the upholstered chair for me, placing me beside Geraldo, the third oldest. Javier, the second oldest, stands behind Geraldo with his hands resting on his shoulder, while Samuel stands behind me, arms crossed behind his back. No one dares to speak, not without permission. We don’t even dare to cough or move once we find our place. It’s always been this way: the youngest up front, the two oldest in the back. 

Papá sighs, downs the remaining whiskey, and slams the glass onto his mahogany desk. 

“Ustedes son importantes para mí y todo lo que he hecho es para ustedes.” He begins, massaging his temple. “Bueno, para lo que ustedes vinieron. We don’t have that many allies anymore. The Santiago, Rivera and Juarez family have cut ties with us and no longer want to do business.”

“Papá, since when has this been happening?” Samuel asks. He’s the smartest of us, raised to take over one day. I’m surprised Papá didn’t at least tell him.

“Since December, right after the Velez family incident.”

The Santiago, Rivera, Juarez, Velez families—and us, the Torres—have been allies for years. But when the Velez family turned against the Millers, it caused a war and a bloodbath within the Velez family. From what I’ve overheard, some of the Velez cousins made a deal with the Devil himself—Tommy Miller. They traded intel, sold out and betrayed their own blood to survive. 

“You’ve waited six months to fill us in?” Javier’s voice echoes. As the logistics one of the family, I can already see him running the numbers, calculating the chances of survival. 

“I’ve managed this household, this business, long before you four were born. I handled it, and now is the time for you to know.” Papá raises his voice. Javier stands down, breathing through his nose to steady himself. 

“And exactly how did you handle it?” Geraldo huffs. He’s always been the one to run his mouth.

Papá—who’s under eyes have sunken and darkened since the last time I saw him—takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Clearly, fighting the urge to lean across the desk and smack Gerald for his attitude. 

“I reached out to Tommy Miller, he proposed an exchange for protection from our old allies and for him to use at his disposal our aircraft charter company to expand his exports and imports.” 

I look around, watching Samuel’s eyes nearly pop out from his head. Geraldo lets out a disapproving sound, and Javier’s hands grip Geraldo's shoulders, keeping him from doing something stupid. 

I turn to face Papá, wondering why I was even summoned if I don’t even work for the family business. And it’s like he read my mind. His eyes shift to mine, his gaze softening and hazy. 

“What else did you do?” I ask, recognizing that look. It’s the same look he gave me when I was twelve and my bunny died. The same look he gave me when he scared off my senior prom date before he even got the chance to see me in my dress. And from the four of us, I’m the one who reads Papá the best—something my brothers lack, even if they’ve been working for the business since they turned eighteen. I was never allowed to, and I never had the curiosity for it.

“An arrangement has been reached. You are to marry Tommy Miller in four weeks. You’ll live in his house, accompany him to work events, and unite the two families as the final agreement for this deal.”

“Are you fucking crazy? You’re selling me off?” I shout, jumping to my feet. My heart thumps loudly in my ears. My face burns, but I don’t dare show any sign of crying, only anger. 

Geraldo stands angrily, shoving Javier’s hand off his shoulder. “Are you seriously using our little sister for leverage?” 

“Papá, there has to be another way.” Samuel shakes his head, standing beside me. 

“He’s a God in the industry,” Javier murmurs, his brain balancing the odds.

“He’s a monster!” Geraldo argues, his ears turning red with rage. 

At least someone has my back. 

“Enough!” Papá’s voice rumbles through the office. He slams his fist down on the desk and shoots up from his chair. “The deal is already done. The word is going out as we speak, and you are to meet your fiancé tomorrow. This is your duty to your family.”

“Gracias, Papá, for signing your only daughter away to her death.” I scoff, pushing through my brothers as I storm out of the office and slam the door behind me. 

When I reach the bottom of the stairs, Mama is already there, tears streaming down her face. I finally break, the tears spilling out as I reach for her.

There was no getting out of this. 

A deal with the devil—the one person the city fears and praises. 

Tragically, the sun rises the next day. 

I pace in the hallway, already annoyed and I haven’t even stepped into the room. The carpeted hallway cushions every step I take in my heels. I mess with the hem of my dress wondering why they are taking so long. The meeting is being hosted in a private conference room on our side, inside the aircraft charter headquarters at the private airport. 

My cousin Marcos sits in the hall with me, his unbothered self stretched out on the luxurious sofa with his feet on the small coffee table. 

“I don’t get why I have to sign the papers now. The ceremony isn’t until the end of the month.” I sigh, kicking his feet off the coffee table. Marcos huffs, but fixes his posture. 

“It’s because your father needs that protection desperately. And Tommy isn’t going to wait a second more to use those charter benefits. The faster you are bound together, the better for business.” Marcos doesn’t even bother looking up from his phone.

“Why are you even here?” I cross my arms over my chest, annoyed with him too. 

“To make sure the bride doesn’t run off before signing the papers,” he says, amused. Of course he finds this funny. He’s not the one being traded like a damn athlete. 

The conference room door opens. Javier steps out and extends a hand towards me. “We’re ready for you.”

“Here comes the bride,” Marcos sings off key, failing miserably to hold in his laugh. I throw him the middle finger before stepping in front of Javier. He blocks the door with his body.

“You ready?” He whispers, his eyes softening. I know if he could, he’d figure a way out of this. But even the logistic side of all of this makes sense. 

“Let’s just get this over with.” I roll my eyes and step into the room. 

The conference room is meant to hold up to twenty people—a long oak custom table surrounded by deep emerald green chairs. Javier closes the door behind me, and I stand beside him, chin held high.

Tommy Miller sits on the other end of the table like he already owns the place. And he is not what I imagined him to be like. The dark navy suit is tailored to perfection, his dark curls brushed back into a sleek style, and a gold signet ring sits on his pinky. 

Two men stand behind him—his most trusted, I assume. 

Papá stands from his seat, eyeing me and shaking his head slightly, disapproving of my choice of dress. 

The red dress is a challenge—a statement that I’m not easy to control or manipulate. I might've been dragged into an arranged marriage like it was the 1950s, to a man I don’t know or love, all for power and the illusion of control. 

“Tommy, this is my daughter,” Papá guides me closer to the man sitting far on the other side of the table. Like I’m his prize. 

Emotionless dark brown eyes stare into mine, his gaze scanning my entire body. 

Merchandise to your liking, Mr. Miller? I say in my mind. I hold back a snort and bite my cheek to maintain a straight face. 

Tommy stands and walks toward us. Papá steps back as Tommy grabs my left hand, gently raising my knuckles to brush with his lips. “I’ve been wondering what my fiancé looked like.”

I pull my hand away but keep it mid air, wiggling my ring finger. “Not yet a fiancé, Mr. Miller.” I dare to correct him, wearing a smug smile. 

“Let’s fix that,” He pulls a black velvet box from his pocket. 

Oh, I did not expect to get a ring today. 

He opens the box and pulls out a gorgeous diamond on a gold band. He grabs my hand again—this time with a tighter, firmer grip—and slides the ring on. He doesn't let go, his eyes linger on mine until a cough pulls us back to the room. 

I retrieve my hand. The weight of the diamond, and the reality of all this hits me. I really don’t have a choice. I can stand tall, be the bravest soldier in my father’s arm, and sacrifice my life for the sake of the family business I never asked to be born into. 

"Ready, fiancé?”

The ink on my signature hasn’t even dried, and the men are already talking business, strategies for upcoming shipments and exports. 

“Leave me the room.” Tommy’s assertive tone sends everyone scurrying, even my own brothers don’t look back. I sit beside him, my eyes still glued to the ring.

Not for its size, for its commitment.

I walk towards the huge window overlooking the empty runway outside, arms crossed over my chest. All of this just for the charter privileges? Is that really worth marrying someone’s daughter for?

I feel his presence behind me, hovering. He even smells expensive, something imported from Europe. The notes of leather and blackcurrant hits me, and I refuse to let it have an effect on me. 

“Access to an aircraft charter wasn’t enough?” I don’t turn around to face him, but I see his jaw clench in the reflection of the window.

“It’s business.” He says, coldly. 

“No, it’s leverage,” I turn to face him, and I don’t expect him to be this close. But I don’t move. My chest heaves in anger, my hands shake and he’s too close. I feel him every time my chest rises and brushes with his. My eyes burn into his, no sign of sympathy. Just a dark hole of dark brown eyes. 

“One mistake from my family, and I’m yours to torture and kill if anything goes sideways.”

He leans forward, his hand tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear. 

“You better hope they don’t fuck it up then.”

“You don’t buy loyalty, you earn it.” I snap back. 

“I don’t need people's loyalty,” He steps forward, my back meeting the cold glass. “I need people to fear me. That’s how I got your dear father to bend so easily, wife” 

He doesn’t raise his voice, he doesn’t need to. The words land with weight and authority, like he’d already won. 

And he did. 

My face burns with anger as he smirks. He steps away, leaving me by the window.  As he heads for the door, I grab the heavy stone aircraft statue from the table and hurl it at the wall beside him.

The statue crumbles to the floor in pieces, but he doesn’t flinch—like he expected it. “You need to work on that aim, wife,” he chuckles before walking out, leaving me furious in the room I’d just been gifted to him.

[astraljedi]

can you write a Danny Ramirez x singer!reader where he's casted in one of her music videos? Something like the Karol G music video

I usually don’t write for actors but I might change that rule for this one 🤪

[astraljedi]

is there going to be another part for the president's au?

Hi! There’s going to be a few more but currently focusing on other fics I have in my drafts

[astraljedi]

I have three fics ready for editing but somehow I can’t find the energy to sit and do it 😭

[astraljedi]

JESUS

i need this man

clark kent using his x-ray vision while he fucks you <3

clark kent x fem! reader

minors dni, 18+!!

you could feel it in the way clark gripped your waist as he pressed into you, hips rolling with a slow, steady force. the pads of his fingers dug into your skin deep, no doubt leaving marks after. his light moans perfectly in tune with his thrusts, eyes half lidded behind his fogged glasses that had slid down a little. but his gaze was locked on you regardless, like he couldn’t look anywhere else— he wasn’t allowing himself to. he was lost deep into your body beneath him.

oh god, and he felt deep, too. feeling him stretch you in such a way, like he was buried into your core. he snapped his hips into yours with a sudden movement, causing you to dig your fingers into his shoulders, dragging them down his toned back. “oh my..clark, it’s— you’re so deep..”

he pulled out just enough to make a noticeable difference for when he slid back into you. you whined at the sensation of being full again, causing his breath to hitch. you took him so well.

“you okay, baby?”

you nodded, faster than you would’ve liked, arching your back. “i.. yeah.. i can.. oh god i can feel you in my stomach,” you moaned out, words faltering in pleasure.

clark slowed his thrusts to almost a stop, heart racing at the thought. his voice was deeper than you’d heard before. it was rougher, laced with lust.

“i know. i can see it. i can see me in your stomach.”

your eyes fluttered at his words. you barely had time to process before his hand left your waist to grab the hand you still had piercing into his back. he put your hand onto your stomach and placed his own overtop. he pulled out, pressed your hand against your skin, then pushed back in, forcing you to feel it. your whole body tensed at the feeling.

“what?”

“x-ray,” he said, his tone simple but weak, like he didn’t want to admit it, “right now, i can see just how deep i am.”

he pressed your hand into your stomach more as his pace picked up, hips rolling harder into you, pulling a moan from deep within you.

“oh, clark, it’s so..”

“right there, sweetheart. you feel that?,” he breathed, looking down at your stomach, eyes faintly glowing, “you’re taking all of me... good girl.”

that damn near killed you, wrecking you completely. you needed him faster than before, needed to feel him hitting as deep as he can, as fast as he can. you wrapped your other hand around his neck, pulling him down until his forehead was pressed against yours. “f-faster please.”

“yes, ma’am,” and with that he obliged, hips snapping quicker as he buried himself to the hilt. both of your breathy, raw moans filled the room, echoing off the walls. he couldn’t hold back anymore, he didn’t want to. not with how wrecked he had his girl underneath him. his hand never let go of yours, holding you down to feel just how full he can make you feel.

“look at you, clenching around me like that. wish you could see it, too.”

oh fuck. you couldn’t hold back anymore. your normally sweet, gentle boyfriend using his superpowers against you in the bedroom was enough, but hearing such filth come from his mouth? it’s enough to send you over the edge.

he tilted his head, lips brushing over your ear, “i can see you coming around me from inside.”

the second he said “i can see you coming”, you were done in. you moaned his name, just short of a scream, legs locking around his waist as the walls of your core clenched tight around him. he gasped as his own release surged through him, hitting him just as hard as your own did, watching himself spill into you as your slick leaked out.

never once did his hand leave your stomach as you came, now locking his fingers with yours over the top of your hand. his breathing was heavy against your neck, voice quiet and softer as he pressed light kisses to your jaw and cheek. “that’s it.. that’s my girl.”

your legs were still wrapped around him, though the tension in your body began to ease. after a few minutes of catching your breath, he raised up and let go of your hand, placing both beside your head. “you okay? it wasn’t.. too much, was it?”

you were quick to shake your head no, a laugh leaving you, “no, never. though, you seeing me come through my stomach was.. a lot. but in a good way.”

he smiled, kissing you lightly. “it’s.. it’s something else, i’ll tell you that. and i meant it, i could see every single bit of it. it’s beautiful. you’re beautiful. how perfect you take me, how your body holds onto me when you come.. most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen.”