#as you could probably tell from the lack of posts that I did nothing the past few days

[endless-weightless]

Ford Pines x GN!reader headcanons!

I'm surprised it took me this long to get into Gravity Falls. Anyways this has both SFW and NSFW so beware. There's also a brief mention of being AFAB as a possibility but other than that it's completely gender neutral (I'm 99% sure, I didn't proofread too well lol).

SFW

Right off the bat, I’m saying he’s autistic because so am I and I said so.

If you’re someone who needs reassurance or is generally anxious/paranoid about anything he’ll go into long (often scientific) explanations to ease your mind and also throw in some fun facts.

Both a listener and a yapper. He loves nothing more than the sound of your voice but also loves being able to spout all sorts of things about his research and interests while you stare at him lovingly.

Can’t sleep unless you’re next to him. You don’t even need to be cuddling, your presence is just the one thing he needs to fall asleep.

That being said, he will NEVER pass up an opportunity to cuddle. Watching a movie? Cuddling. Working at his desk in the lab? Cuddling on his lap. Cooking something in the kitchen? He’s got his arms wrapped around you as he presses loving kisses into your temple.

He rarely swears, but when he does it always makes you do a double-take (and maybe giggle because it sounds so odd coming from him).

Probably tried weed once or twice in the '70s and was somewhat part of the psychedelic rock scene. Stan has some old photos of him during that time somewhere but Ford is absolutely mortified by the idea of you seeing him in bell-bottom jeans.

It doesn’t matter how long you two have been together, every time he sees you he feels the same as he did the day you two met. Ford will never stop becoming flustered at the sight of you.

Post-Weirdmaggedon he became very anxious at the thought of you being out alone or not being near him. He feels like he needs to be on guard at all times so that he can protect you. He eventually calms down after some reassurance from you and a fuck ton of therapy.

While he lacks some emotional intelligence he’s actually very attentive and knows exactly what you need when you’re upfront about your feelings. As long as you’re not vague and communicate, he knows what to do to help you.

Adding onto that, I think he briefly studied psychology in college so he’d have a pretty good understanding of any mental health issues you might have.

Said “No more Mr Nice Guy” one time and hasn’t heard the end of it from anyone.

NSFW

Has to stop himself from cumming too quickly when you tell him how good he’s making you feel. Stroking his ego (and other things) is the best way to get him horny.

Will always ask you for consent no matter what it is. You could be mid-fuck and he’d still ask if he could put his hands on your hips.

This is just my personal headcanon but I believe while he didn’t really have too much experience before he got stuck on the other side of the portal (probably hooked up with Fiddleford once or twice tho), I fully believe that after a few years of dimension-hopping, he would’ve had a few one-night stands (mans gotta blow off some steam). So when he gets the chance to fuck you, a real human from his dimension, he’s more than ecstatic, especially since he’s picked up more than a few tricks over the past thirty years.

Knows how to use all twelve of his fingers.

Since Ford was sucked into the portal in the early ’80s and spent thirty years in there, he’s super confused when you mention shaving down there or being embarrassed about your body hair (if you do either) since the last time he was around everyone preferred going all natural.

This one’s less sexy but I’m putting it here anyways. He avoided taking off his shirt for ages since he didn’t want you to see all the scars he’d gotten over the years or any of the tattoos related to the things he did in the portal, especially the ones related to Bill. Surprisingly not as insecure about his “Flirty Gal” tramp stamp.

Doesn’t understand that he’s ridiculously hot. 

You jokingly said “Yes sir” one time and he got hard so quickly.

Although he does rather enjoy you taking the lead.

Loves experimenting with cock warming and edging. Literally. He’ll time the both of you and have everything written down somewhere and draw a graph with extra info like if you’re someone with a menstrual cycle and how that affects the results.

[thedexcat]

VotV Speculation Megapost

(For posterity's sake, the latest major release is 0.8) (Also, buckle in. This post is a long one.) As we all know, Voices of the Void has a "story breadcrumbs" approach to its plot. Combine that with its alpha status, and we're left with a lack of hard answers. However, some pieces did seem to click into place. This is far from anything definitive, but here are some of the conclusions I've drawn. Let's start with everybody's favorite:

Part 1: The Arirals

god i want one to hold me like that

You know em. You love em. Like 90% of the fanart is about them. But the question is... what the hell are they doing here? Judging by the fact that they construct a campsite in the facility, they clearly expect to be here for a while. A common interpretation I hear from people is that the ones out in the facility are either political refugees, or just some sort of benign "tourist group". I've personally come to a different conclusion. Let's consider what they brought with them.

Exhibit A: The weapon (left)

The weapon they drop around Day 24 is no mere Star Trek phaser. If you drop it in the main building, pretty much EVERYTHING in the building is going to be sent flying from the resulting blast. Not only that, but the "human-wieldable" version that can be unlocked for the sandbox mode has one hell of a fire rate. Something tells me that there's no way in hell this thing is a civilian-grade weapon. And, as established in a previous post of mine, they're kitted out in full-body armored stealth suits.

Exhibit B: The stealth suit (Kerf dutifully remains there for scale)

These aren't tourists or runaways. They're goddamn Black Ops. But you're probably asking, "If that's what they are, then why do they have nothing better to do than to steal shrimp and prank you?" Don't worry, I'll get to that later. Eventually. Maybe.

For now, let's move on to a third thing of theirs: The letter to Kel.

Exhibit C: Esraniki's Letter (D-, see me after english class)

This is the letter left at the Ariral camp if you have maxxed reputation with them. There's one line in particular that's always stood out to me. "GET WE HOME YOU GET DEATH AVOID" So... why can't they go home? Let's review: A: They have perfectly functional spacecraft parked right behind you. Even if they were broken, surely some random Pre-FTL primitive wouldn't be able to help with a mechanical failure in their technology. Hell, they buzz you at the radio tower with one. So there seems to be nothing physically stopping them from leaving. B: They've come kitted out with some serious weapons and armor C: Something in the facility is drawing the attention of all manner of extraterrestrials (and ghosts and demons. are 'metaterrestrials' a good word for them?) So my take? They're monitoring something, waiting for an opportunity to act upon it. (In keeping with the Patch Note naming convention, I will be calling this unknown something "The Threat") Not only that, this 'opportunity' may only open up with the assistance of a human. But what could Dr. Kel possibly do that an Ariral couldn't? Well, I can think of one thing he can do better... Interface with human technology.

Exhibit D: Ariral Communique (quality: shit) Computer technology isn't some universal constant. You can't make a program and expect it to magically run on alien technology with an unknown architecture. This ain't Independence Day. The fact that the Arirals barely managed to send a heavily-garbled message to Kel's computer, quite frankly, speaks of an extreme amount of effort on their part. And it was all just to say the word "OUTSIDE".

If The Threat has some ties to human technology, then perhaps Kel actually could be more qualified to deal with it than the Ariral Black Ops. Hmm... An unknown threat with ties to human technology. Could it possibly involve...

Part 2: The Incredibly Suspicious Bunker

"I left a 'Do not enter' note on the floor. That'll stop people from investigating!" This damn thing is quite obviously, as TVtropes would put it, The Very Definitely Final Dungeon. It is my firm belief that this is what the Arirals were sent to monitor, and where The Threat can be found. But we can't really get much further in than a few doors. So... what's in there? An easy assumption to make is that it's some sort of fallout/storm shelter. But something nearby might tell a different story...

Exhibit E: *squints* ...Liberty Prime? If you take a metal detector over to the bunker entrance, you'll quickly discover a buried drive nearby. The image you just saw is its contents. It's clear that something is being depicted here. What exactly it is, well, that's hard to say. but if you look at that teeny tiny thing at the top, you'll see something that looks like the Alpha base and its radio tower

oh god we're getting into crusty duende video territory now

What this says to me is that there is a colossal something underneath the base. Some sort of mega-facility? Unnatural cave formations? Something else entirely? Or I could be looking at it entirely wrong. But the point is, it's very likely that something extremely expansive is down there.

What if we could just take a peek a liiiittle bit further in? Well, there is ONE way...

Exhibit F: The Least Cursed Elevator in Horror Fiction

Roughly around 3:33 each night, there is a chance that a camera inside the bunker will become active. It's monitoring what appears to be a heavy-duty elevator coated in blood. An elevator like this would also indicate something buried deep underneath the base. Say, this elevator seems familiar...

Exhibit G: Monique Santificer's Extremely Ominous Foreshadowing

...Huh. I'm sure that only means good things. So we have a Hellivator and evidence that there's some place that you'd need a Hellivator to get to. Are there any other clues around? Well, there's that handy instruction book on robotics. You can make your own little friend!

POV: You're 5'11 and she's 6'0 And... Oh! looking back at that camera, it looks like someone else made their... their own... friend...

Exhibit H: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA- ...I don't think they followed the instructions to the letter. So it seems the people in the bunker were working on combining robots and, er, 'biomass'. I don't think our meaty friend here is The Threat itself, but I do believe that it is some aspect of it, or at least a result of it. And whatever The Threat is, it seems to be "leaking" out of the bunker. After all, this toothy bot here seems to have little siblings burrowing out from underground!

Exhibit I: should start running Kerfus. Kerfur. Whatever name they have, they love you! Such a shame that the flesh inhabiting their chassis does not.

they seriously recalled the ++ models over a little thing like this, smh Something deep underground, cursed flesh, and occult sigils. Hmm. Things would tie together neatly if there were, say, some sort of demon around associated with flesh and dark depths.

Part 3: Furfur (and conclusions)

"I WATCH YOU SHIT AT NIGHT" The Great Earl of Hell and raw flesh afficianato, it's Furfur! Demonology refers to him as a liar, but also a teacher of secrets. And he seems to really really like flesh. Not bones, though. He's always leaving those behind.

They say that if you burn an offering of flesh at his altar, he'll give you a marketable Furfur plushie!

The children who survived loved them! Interestingly, there's a certain location connected to Furfur: The bottom of the well. If you pass out at the bottom of the well, you will end up in a (dream of a?) mysterious structure.

Exhibit J: all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well

A few things of note in this place: -More demonic sigils -The only 'exit' is a tunnel leading upward with a broken ladder. And even if you could reach up there, Furfur's giant skull-face is blocking the way. -A unique knife, which when examined in the inventory, says that it was found "deep underground".

How very interesting that this flesh-loving demon has his own little place down in the depths of the earth. And you say the bunker reaching downwards has been spawning horrific robot-flesh amalgamations? Robots that are specifically of human design?

Well then. So here's what I think is going down:

no i'm not crazy it's invisible alien catgirls versus demon cyborgs you weren't listening were you?

-Some scientists from before did a Very Bad Thing in the bunker depths. If I had to venture a guess, it's that they bargained with Furfur for secrets of the flesh, perhaps in the pursuit of cybernetics, biocomputers, or somesuch. This resulted in the Very Bad Thing happening, thus creating The Threat. -The Threat was contained to some extent, but is starting to noticeably leak out. It is also severe enough to have drawn extraterrestrial attention. -The Arirals have sent a squad to monitor the situation and act if necessary. Seeing as there's been no urgent need to act as of yet, they are bored out of their skulls and taking it out on you. -The fact that the bunker hasn't been blown up by catgirl black ops already says to me that the situation down there is delicate, and a 'guns-blazing' approach would be inadvisable. Not only that, but The Threat seems to be tied to technology they have little knowledge of. They would most likely need outside assistance if they want a 'clean' resolution to the problem. -And wouldn't you know it? Right there in the facility is some nerdy, crusty, half-crazed twink that seems to be very proficient in handling human technology. How very convenient.

"average person eats 3 roaches a year" factoid actually just statistical error. Dr. Kel, who-

That's how I think this ties together, personally. Of course, there's always unaccounted for 'loose ends' that may or may not be tied to the Bunker Conspiracy (the rozital pit in particular has been bugging me with its vagueness). Plus there's always the chance that I misinterpreted things like a dumbass. There were a few other smaller things I wanted to cover, but my fingers hurt from typing, and my ability to hyperfixate has its limits. And sorry if the screengrabs are a bit mismatched, I've already spent hours on this post without having to get screenshots from the game myself. If anyone actually read through this monstrosity of a post, congratulations! If you're as deeply brainrotted as I am, feel free to point out the reasons I'm dumb and wrong :)

[luderailing]

“Can you stop? I don’t sound like that”

“Really? Because that’s what you sound like right now”

Fanart for @kyuhu's lovely au that I have been thinking about for the past week

[moonstruckme]

I saw your post about wanting James to give you a hug so good it breaks your ribs could I request a lil post with that LMAO like the reader just wanting like pressure and weight and for James to hug her and everyone’s all like ??? No? Either poly marauders or just James either is fun

Thanks babe!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 676 words

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” James' words are smushed against your neck, funny little kisses. He’s rubbing between your shoulder blades, unwavering in his sympathy ever since you’d told him you were having an off day, even though you’ve got no good reason for it. Your day had been fine, no noteworthy episodes, yet you’d felt oddly downtrodden through all of it. You’d come home exhausted and unable to explain yourself; James is taking it in stride. “Anything I can do?” 

“Could you hug me?” you mumble, squeezing tightly where you’ve got your arms wound beneath his, hands touching at his mid-back. 

His hand doesn’t falter, but you can hear the question in his tone. “I am hugging you, lovebug.” 

“Hug me tight,” you clarify. “It’s hard to explain, but I just want…pressure, right now.”

He makes a soft, bemused sound of assent. You move more fully into his lap, thighs bracketing his hips to get as close as you can as James wraps his big arms around you more securely. He pulls you tightly against him, but you can feel the lack of strain in his biceps. 

“Tighter,” you plead, pushing your face into his shoulder. “Break a few ribs if you gotta.” 

A laugh rumbles through him, loosening his grip. “What?” he asks, voice lightened by amusement. “I’m not gonna crush you.” 

“But you can.” You lift your head from the juncture of his neck, pouting at him. “You’re so strong, Jamie, just like, give me a solid squeeze. Please? I know you can do it.” 

“Flattery’s not going to work,” he chides teasingly, palm pushing into your back with some pressure but not enough. “There’s gotta be a way for me to help make you feel better that doesn’t involve squishing the life out of you.” 

“If you’re not up to the task, I’ll go to the zoo and find an anaconda,” you mutter into the material of his shirt. 

“What did you say?” 

“Nothing. Can you just try and give me one good squeeze, Jamie, pretty please?” You look up at him beseechingly, completely abusing the Bambi look you know melts him like ice cream in the sun. “I promise not to complain if I have to go to A&E afterwards.” 

You see the look working, James’ eyebrows bunching for a second before his expression eases into acquiescence. “Fine,” he says quietly, kissing the top of your head. “Just one more, and then we do something else. And I refuse to cause any injuries, so you have to tell me if it hurts, okay?”

You agree readily, cozying up to his front. You can feel the squeeze of his biceps against your arms this time, pressing in on your ribs as you hug him back. The solidity of him is nice, aching in a pleasant way, and you imagine all the heaviness of your day being squished right out of you as you bury your face in his neck. 

It ends too soon, but you’re satisfied. “Thank you,” you say, leaning back to smile at your boyfriend as your hand moves to his brawny shoulder, giving it an appreciative squeeze. “I feel a lot better.”

“Well, I feel properly used,” he grumbles, but his faux rancor is inlaid with fondness. 

“Used for the greater good,” you try, and it takes him all of a second to capitulate to your grin, planting a kiss under your eye. 

“Sure, sure. Anything for my girl, huh?” He slides a big palm to your hip, kneading lovingly at the fat there. “I better not catch you sneaking into the anaconda enclosure anytime soon, though.” 

“What, and cheat on you with a snake?” You shoot him your most angelic look. “They’ve got nothing on you, baby.” 

He shrugs, mouth pulling to one side consideringly. “Probably right. Those pricks don’t spend nearly as much time at the gym, yeah? Gotta be getting rusty.” 

You give him a quick kiss, laughing when he uses the hand still on your back to hold you in place for more. “My thoughts exactly.”

[wttcsms]

you wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody, atsumu miya

pairing atsumu miya x reader word count 1.4k synopsis love for you is holding him; love for him is allowing himself to be held. content contains hurt/comfort, intimacy, atsumu-centric, insecurities, unconditional love, showering together but make it sfw

The stinging spray of scalding hot water from the showerhead should be enough to get him to leave, but he barely registers the pain, can’t seem to bring himself to feel the heat, can’t seem to bring himself to feel anything.

No — that’s not entirely true. He feels one thing.

Devastated. 

Everyone knows Atsumu Miya likes to talk shit on and off the court. It’s his thing, his trademark, his brand. Lots of athletes like to talk big about how they’re going to win; who the hell is going to support a guy who walks onto the court with a well, it’ll be alright if I lose. 

He’s staring down at the tiles of the shower, can somewhat register the persistent barrage of water spraying onto his back as he has one hand splayed on the wall, shoulders slumped, water dripping from his hair and running into his vision, making everything blurry. 

Don’t blink, he tries to demand of himself, but the issue is, we can’t always control our bodies. He has to shut his eyes, just for a brief second, and in that second, it all comes back to him.

The opposing team at set point. His team depending on him to serve. One point left. Only one chance. He can feel the stadium’s crowd holding their breath, can feel the lack of air in the atmosphere, can hear how loudly the blood is rushing to his head. Dizzy. Dazed. He doesn’t give into pressure, not anymore, not ever. Doesn’t feel performance anxiety, knows better than to try to attempt something flashy just for the glory of a good story to tell. 

Give ‘em a serve they don’t have a chance of receiving, he demands of himself. 

The final seconds of the match all come to him like stills from a movie, each frame another devastating blow to his ego, his self-worth, his very being. The ball is in the air, he’s bending his knees to prepare for the jump, his hand making contact with the ball. Something’s off, he can feel it upon first contact, but it’s too late to save, too late for him to change anything.

The ball lands.

On his side of the net.

He’s frozen in place as he stares ahead. He can tell the other team is cheering, slapping each other on their backs, and he can hear the blow of a whistle, the celebration from the crowd. But all he sees is the ball. All he sees is his failure.

Atsumu has spent a good portion of his volleyball career knowing that he plays the game better than most. It’s why he feels so comfortable talking about the lack of skills other players display. It’s why he always has something to say at practice, on the court, during a post-game interview. 

And he knows he makes mistakes. He knows that he’s only human. But a bad serve in the middle of a game isn’t as crushing as knowing that he is the sole reason as to why the Black Jackals’ season is going to be ending early. 

Where did he go wrong? He did everything perfectly, did everything the way he usually does. Why couldn’t he perform? Why did he let his team down? Why—

“Atsumu?” 

He doesn’t look up, and all you can see is the sad shape of his outline from the foggy glass door of the shower. You know that Atsumu probably wants nothing more than to be alone right now, but you can’t help but worry when fifteen minutes have gone by, and you could still hear the shower running. That’s your first sign that something is wrong.

Atsumu is a notoriously quick showerer, to an almost concerning degree. When you first started living together, you debated planning elaborate tricks to see whether or not he was even using soap. (Which, in hindsight, was just flatout silly; he walks out the shower smelling overwhelming of his Axe Men’s 3-in-1 and Old Spice deodorant.) 

No — the first sign that something is wrong would be his uncharacteristic silence on the trip back home. He hadn’t responded to your it’s okay, baby, you’ll get ‘em next season. Instead, he just looked out the window, the devastated expression on his face silencing you as well. Even when he lost to Kageyama, he had been disappointed, upset, but still talking big about how he was going to crush the Adlers next time around. He had then made a comment about Tobio’s stupid haircut, and that’s when you told him if he doesn’t have anything nice to say, he shouldn’t say anything at all.

Now, you’d give anything to have him say something. Something for you to work with.  

“Atsumu?” You call out for him again, worried when you don’t see his figure moving. 

Pathetic. Atsumu thinks that’s what he is. A loser, a fucking scrub, a failure. Even if his teammates won’t admit it, the media will. And what then? Will you think that about him too? It’d be the truth, wouldn’t it? Isn’t that why you’re in the bathroom now? To pity him? 

He’s too busy tearing himself down to react to the distinct sound of you sliding back the glass door of the shower so you can enter it. There’s a brief burst of the cool air of the bathroom hitting his exposed body, but it evaporates the moment you shut the door. 

“Oh, ‘Tsumu.” You whisper it, and he wants to tell you that he’s not fucking fragile. That he’s not going to shatter into a million pieces if you just raise your voice, if you tell him how you really feel about him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t turn around to face you. He doesn’t want to. He can’t.

His skin is red from the heat of the water, his back staring at you angrily, hurt. The skin’s going to need some time to heal, and you turn the faucet, lowering the temperature of the water. 

“Turn around, honey. Please?” You’ve never seen Atsumu so upset before, so quiet. You wait several minutes for him to actually do as you request, and you think it’s only because he wants a way to get rid of you sooner. 

You don’t say anything to him as you reach for his shampoo, letting it lather in your hands before you give him a pleading look, one that has him leaning down so you can reach his hair. It feels nice, he thinks, the way you’re shampooing his hair. You’re gentle with your movements, and it almost relaxes him. 

You use your body wash on him. Massage the suds into his skin, but you’re mindful of the amount of pressure you apply. You know which areas of his skin is more sensitive from its exposure to the hot water, and you are careful with the spots of his body that he had chosen to be negligent with. 

“Am I so fuckin’ worthless that you have to do somethin’ as simple as bathing me?” He’s not angry at you. He might spit out the words — words that come out sounding all raw and scratchy, like they had to personally claw themselves from his throat — but the anger is not directed at you. It’s at himself. 

“Look at me.” 

His eyes are glossy, wet, shiny, and you know it’s not because of the shower. You’ve never seen Atsumu cry before, and you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. So, you do what feels right. You whisper his name softly, tenderly, and it’s this tenderness, your unwavering softness, your unconditional love, that breaks him. That makes him feel safe enough to break. That makes him think of the possibility that you’ll take these jagged pieces of him and piece them back together for him, with him. 

He’s so much bigger than you. You tell him all the time that he’s larger than life, and he thinks about that comment as he lets himself sink into your open arms, as he lets himself be held. He has never felt smaller in his life, and in your embrace, he buries his face into your shoulder, letting his warm tears mix in with the water already on your body.

“I don’t know how you can still look at me.” He mutters, and every word is spoken onto your skin, tiny blades striking you. 

Atsumu isn’t sure what he wants to hear, isn’t even certain that there’s anything that could be said to ease his devastation, but melts into you even more so when you tell him,

“Atsumu, I thought you already knew that nothing can change the way I look at you.”

[httpsserene]

Gosh please please please can you write something daniel x reader maybe inspired by too sweet by hozier when he thinks(some internal turmoil cuz he can't stay away from her) she's too sweet/innocent for him or something like but it turns out to be further from the truth?? I love love love your writing, i think about please's and thank you's at least three times a day since i read it. You're so immensely talented!!!

I'd really really appreciate it.

(i don't mind age gap(like up to 10years), some kinky smut or even a bit of morally grey characters as long as there are no explicit mentions of past relationships or cheating and etc., happy ending plss, and I won't mind if you add a pinch of "who did this to you")

Ly ly ly

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞: 𝐓𝐒𝐀

Summary: She’s too pure for him. She hasn’t been damaged by life like he has and he hopes you never will be. So, that’s why Daniel can never allow himself to be with her. He knows she’s convinced herself that she can fix him, but he knows that the longer he sticks around, the more he’s ruining her. He finds it cynical: their relationship (or lack of a relationship) reads like one of the books she’s obsessed with: right person wrong time or forbidden love. Daniel learns that it might be a little darker of a trope—like one of her books that she never allows him to see a page of. Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. implied sexual content. mild!yandere!reader. stalking. sabotage. angst with a happy ending. lando and max are here. not edited at all. mentioned alcoholism. pov switch. fights? idk danny gets his ass beat. possessive!reader. can you find the hozier inspo in here? probably. Pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader (black-coded? but not mentioned in the fic, i think) Word Count: 2.7k words.

Author’s Notes: okay! this is past me (6/11) hoping that the tumblr queue doesn’t do me dirty! this should be posted on thursday, because i won’t be able to manually post it on my own as i’ll be hiking in san diego the whole day :p

this was formatted on mobile so please ignore how ugly it looks :( and also ignore the ugly writing i’ve never written dark/morally gray characters so i’m pretty sure i did your request like terribly LMAO. um also i couldn’t find a way to write smut into it? so again i apologize for that :/

anyways, please bare with me. i’ll make it pretty when i get back to my computer…on sunday 🥴

prev 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents next ↻

Daniel meets you in the elevator. At first, he thought you were a Formula One fan who snuck into the condo trying to get a glimpse of your favorite driver (himself, obviously) but, he learned that you’re his new next-door neighbor. It was awkward; he accused you of following him to his room and felt like the world’s worst person when you—dressed in the cutest pink dress and matching flowy bow tied in your hair—stared at him terrified, before you unlocked the door to your flat and slammed the door behind you quickly without a word.

He sent you a bouquet of pink orchids the next morning, along with a hand written card apologizing for his rude behavior and that he hoped the two of you could become good neighbors and friends. It seemed all was fixed, as the next time he ran into you, you greeted him softly, like nothing had happened. It was 5 A.M: you were starting your day and Daniel was ending his night.

Daniel was on his third drunken attempt of shoving his key vaguely in the direction of his lock on the door, when you exited your flat with a yoga mat over your shoulder and a water bottle that was comically large. With a hushed ‘good morning,’ you kindly helped Daniel into his apartment, telling him to drink a big glass of water and have pain killers ready when he wakes up; there was no judgment in your wide brown eyes, only tenderness, and a slight hint of worry. He woke up after twelve at the sound of a knock, his head pulsing with pressure and his sight slightly blurry from not quite sleeping all the drunk away.

He eventually made it to his front door and found that you ordered him lunch: a chicken wrap and sweet potato chips, from one of his favorite brunch cafés—Daniel figured you have good taste, as he doesn’t recall ever telling you about this meal in either of the two interactions you’ve had. So, he ate, drank plenty of water, freshened up, and debated if he should go over and express his gratitude, or whatever. He decided he will, and found himself putting on a nice watch and a few too many sprays of his expensive smelling cologne. Daniel didn’t let any thoughts of why he was prettying himself up cross his mind; he’s simply thanking you; a girl far too young, and probably far too sweet for his tastes.

You brushed off his thanks shyly, hidden behind your door with a blush strong enough Daniel saw it paint your dimpled cheeks and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away. Thinking quick enough to rival his reflexes, he offered to exchange phone numbers so the two of you could meet up and he could buy you a coffee. You entered your name in his phone with a yellow heart next to it.

The coffee meet-up had to wait due to Daniel’s hectic schedule, yet the texting flourished. He initiated the beginning of your text thread the next day, mindlessly texting you about how he overheard Emilio (another neighbor) arguing with his wife on the phone; Daniel said she’s probably going to mail him divorce papers within the next week. You replied that it was mean to eavesdrop and gossip. Daniel followed up saying it’s not eavesdropping if said person was screaming into his phone in the hallway, and he wasn’t gossiping, he’s merely keeping you informed.

Daniel laughed in the middle of his motorhome listening to the voice message you sent four days later, eagerly telling him about how you saw Emilio in the lobby with a couple boxes and without a wedding ring on his finger.

It was a warm morning, when you and Daniel finally managed to meet for coffee. You scrunched your nose in distaste when he ordered plain black coffee; Daniel did the same when you ordered a drink that was mainly milk and sugar. Daniel chuckled when you claimed the amount of coffee in your drink had you wired for the rest of the day. He decided to let you believe that, and not inform you that it was most likely the sugar content that had you crashing hours later.

Daniel invited you over for burgers one night and you comment that his home looks like a mix of a “mojo dojo casa house” and a “minimalistic hell.” You gifted him a throw blanket and a potted plant the next day, and continued to text him reminders about watering it.

Around 10 P.M. on another night, he’s yelling at Max for cheating at fifa. Max laughed around the lip of his beer bottle before the two of them paused at the sound of a knock. Daniel checked the door and opened it to see you: fuzzy slippers, eye-mask on your forehead, bonnet, matching pajama set, and pout on your lips with a sleepy tilt to your eyebrows. He apologized for the noise and promised to quiet down. Daniel threatened to kick the Dutchman out when he teased him for having a “crush.” He doesn’t get crushes, he’s a grown man.

Daniel spends less time in night clubs and more time with you. You took him to sip and paint nights, pottery classes, hiking, even bookstores. You order him to not open any of the books he’s holding for you; Daniel tries to take a peek when you scan through one and you slam the book shut, saying it’s too dark for your liking. He doesn’t comment when you end up getting it (Daniel paid).

He kissed you in your apartment, halfway through Howl’s Moving Castle. He proceeded to tell you it was a mistake. You teared up when he said you were too pure for him, arguing back that you weren’t a child. The tears fell when Daniel claimed he’s too old for you, that he’d only hurt you. He returned to his apartment, figurative tail tucked between his legs, and heard you crying through the wall. He fell asleep hating himself.

Daniel distanced himself from you; he misses your shared adventures and condo gossip, but he never forgets to water your potted plant, even without your texts. He fell back into the clubs, bringing home various women but never manages to get them in bed due to various things going wrong. He gets stuck in the elevator with Stephanie who happened to claustrophobic for hours, locked in the stairwell with Sofia who sprains her ankle in five-inch heels, the fire-alarm interrupts him and Kiana just as he unlocks the door, and his kitchen sink burst when he lifted Laura on the counter.

He tries to console Laura, who runs from his flat in drenched clothes, and sees you staring at her in confusion from your doorway as she rushes past. Daniel apologizes for waking you again, and you shrug, ignoring his words, murmuring that he should call maintenance before he floods the entire floor and shutting your door in his face.

Your potted plant starts to wilt, no matter if Daniel moves it in or out of direct sunlight, if he waters it less or more, or if he changes the soil, or adds fertilizer. The universe has it out for Daniel.

He finds himself in an ultra-private lounge, dim-lighting, sultry piano, and dark decor enhancing his dramatics as he reveals how he ruined his life to Max, Lando, and the bartender who will be tipped handsomely for pretending to care. The piano fades to the end of the piece just as Daniel wraps up his lament.

“It sounds like you deserve it, honestly,” Max stated bluntly, Lando nodding agreeably at his side.

Daniel groans into his hands, lifting his head to say that he’s already aware of that, but freezes when he sees you rise from the seat of the piano. Your figure is snug within a floor length, backless, black dress, complemented with gold jewelry, and makeup that opposes your angelic nature. You bow your head slightly in the direction of the tables clapping at your performance, stumbling briefly when your eyes meet Daniel’s. You smile softly and begin to make your way over to him.

“Oh, fuck,” Daniel shrinks into his seat, as the other two drivers stare at him in confusion.

“Hi, neighbor,” you start airily, before turning to smile at Lando and Max, “Hello.”

“You didn’t tell me you worked here,” Daniel mentions.

“You never asked,” you narrow your eyes at him, before relaxing, “I also don’t work here—this is my brother’s bar. The pianist suddenly fell sick and I offered to fill in.”

“Oh,” Daniel hums, “This doesn’t seem like your type of scene.”

You snort, rolling your eyes, “You should know better than to tell me where, what, or who I do or do not belong with.”

“Okay!” Lando claps, kicking Daniel’s shin under the table, everyone ignores his muffled groan of pain, “Sit with us for a minute, if you can take a break. Danny is seriously obsessed with you.”

You take the offered chair next to Max and sigh, “Really? I couldn’t tell,” all three men wince at your dig, but you continue, “Did he tell you that he almost flooded the entire floor last week?”

Daniel watches as you charm his friends, the three of you chattering happily over his demise, and ignoring him as you do so. He can’t find it in himself to be annoyed, only thankful, as this is the first time in weeks that you’ve been in his presence for more than five minutes. You smell so good. Is that weird of Daniel to think?

Unfortunately, the four of you are interrupted far too soon. Your brother calls you over from behind the bar; his expression is less than pleased, jaw tensed with irritation, and Daniel thinks the look in his eyes has a hint of crazy. He wonders if you told your brother about him. Hopefully not—the man looks like he could fold Daniel like a lawn chair without breaking a sweat. The three men watch as you argue with your brother; it doesn’t seem like it’s going in your favor.

Lando calls Daniel’s name, “Mate—she’s good for you.”

“Nah, mate. I’ll only ruin her.”

“Daniel,” Max scolds, “The few months you were ditching us for her were the happiest I’ve seen you. I wasn’t worried that you would be passed out in a random club or yacht after giving yourself alcohol poisoning.”

“She’s sweet, Danny. I think she’s exactly what you need,” Lando adds, “You've convinced yourself that you don’t deserve anything good. She’s trying to prove you wrong and you need to let her.”

He doesn’t answer verbally, he chooses to shake his head and remain silent. You make your way over to the table again and stand in front of them with a pout.

“It’s past my bedtime, apparently,” you huff, turning your head to glare at your brother, “Don’t worry about paying tonight, it’s on the house.” You exchange polite goodbyes with Lando and Max, Daniel gets a soft smile. He watches you leave the bar with a sad tilt to his lips, then orders a shot of whiskey.

You’re sat on your couch, freshly showered and ready for bed. It’s 1 A.M. and Daniel usually doesn’t end his nights out for another hour. So, it makes sense for you to be worried when you see his location nearing your shared condo building an hour early. Did you sneakily (his phone password is his birthday, it wasn’t that hard) use his phone and share his own location with you? Yes. But, you did it with good intentions. You worry about him when he’s not with you.

You decide to go down to the lobby and pretend to ask if you received any packages in hopes of intercepting Daniel when he walks in. You don’t manage to step out of the elevator when you suddenly have an armful of a bruised-up Australian. His lip is busted and you can see a bruise blooming high on his right cheekbone. You start to shake with anger.

Furiously pressing the button of your floor and slamming the ‘close door’ button, you frantically question Daniel, “What the hell? I left you not even two hours ago, and you look like a mess. Did you get into a fight, did you get mugged, did you—“

“Did your brother beat my ass for hurting you?” Daniel groans, not fighting your motions as you tug him out of the elevator and into your flat, “Yes, he did.”

You pause and grumble angrily, forcing Daniel to take a seat on your couch. You rush into your kitchen for ice, then to the bathroom for a first aid kit. He doesn’t fight when you order him to ice his cheek, and lets you hold his face to tilt his head at every angle possible, as if it’ll expose any more damage. Eventually, you end up looking into his eyes, pretending that you have the knowledge to know what a possible concussion looks like, even though you really just wanted an excuse to look at him.

Unconsciously, your thumb rubs soothingly along his temple, Daniel leans further into your hand. His tongue flicks out for a brief second, and he flinches when it disturbs the cut on his bottom lip. Blinking rapidly, you clear the haze from your eyes and frown as you turn to rifle through the first aid kit.

“I can’t believe he put his hands on you,” you bite out angrily, finding a disinfectant cloth to clean his lip, “I don’t know why I tell him anything anymore.”

Daniel winces at the sting of alcohol, remaining quiet as he watches the focus that covers your expression.

“I apologize for him,” you mumble, “He doesn’t think clearly when it comes to me, he thinks he’s like my guard dog or something,” you dispose of the wipe and grab an ointment, “I promise you I told him that the only thing you did was waste my time and hurt my feelings,” Daniel deflates under your hands, “It’s not like you physically hurt me…or anything. He’s just an idiot. I’ll kill him.”

At that, Daniel laughs quietly, dropping the ice from his cheek so you can clean that too, “Don’t say that. You’re such a sweetheart, you couldn’t hurt your own brother. Also—I’m not sure if he hoped this would make me stay away from you, because if you keep rubbing my face like that, I might fall in love.”

You hum, pleased you have him eating out of the palm of your hand, “Have some decorum, Daniel. You sound desperate. Also, he knows that I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”

“Oh? You’re possessive,” Daniel teases, “Is it bad if I kinda like that?”

Your heart flutters, he’s really the best for you. He doesn’t need to know about the lengths you went to ensure any of the girls he tried to bring home didn't make it into his bed. It's a shame Sofia sprained her ankle; that was not intentional on your part.

You shrug lightly, “No, it’s not bad. I think it makes you perfect for me. As long as you don’t mind a little crazy. And—don’t think you’re off the hook. You still have to apologize for making me cry.”

Daniel nods seriously, “I’ll fall to my knees and beg right now, if that’s what it takes.”

Sticking a plaster over his cheek, you stand and gesture for him to do so too, “Okay. Kneel.”

“Huh,” he chokes, eyes wide with disbelief, “You’re serious?”

“If you beg well enough, I’ll let you eat me out.”

The sound of his knees hitting the floor echoes.

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© httpsserene2024

[ladymacbeth-writes-sometimes]

You get pissed off with Daryl for putting himself in danger. He fixes it.

First time posting any writing so my apologies for the shit everything.

598 words of poorly written smut that isn’t proofread and was written in forty minutes.

I will regret posting this.

Daryl had done it again.

You were pissed -beyond pissed- when Rick let it slip that he and your boyfriend had come close to dying at the hands of the Saviours again because Daryl refused to stay safely behind the Hilltop’s walls. You didn’t give a shit how much Rick needed his help getting guns to pay that bitch with the shit haircut; Negan wouldn’t kill Rick. The psychotic bastard wanted to torture Alexandria’s leader and needed him alive to do so, but you couldn’t be sure that his twisted desires extended to Daryl.

“Jesus, girl,” Daryl says, holding his arms in front of his face as you throw a plethora of household objects at him. “Calm down, will ya?” When you throw one of Gregory’s hardcover books you stole at his head -a copy of War and Peace that probably could kill a man- he grabs your wrists. “You’ve ‘ad yer fun.”

You kick at him when he shoves you onto the couch, nicking his calf. Unsurprisingly, the handsome bastard didn’t even flinch, just crossing his arms while waiting for you to stop your temper tantrum. “Do you have a death wish?” you demand.

“‘M ‘live, ain’t I?”

“Barely.”

“We took care o’ them. Negan ain’t gettin’ no information from a bunch of dead men.”

“He’ll know it’s you, Dar.” He says nothing and, annoyed at his nonchalance, you stand up and punch him. Try to, at least. You fought well, but someone of his size had no goddamn right to be so fucking quick. Daryl flips you onto your stomach, pinning you to the couch.

“Ya know what’s wrong with ya?” he asks, pulling your pants down to your ankles. “S’that you ain’t had a good fuckin’ since I got back, hmm? Would some dick make ya feel better?”

You struggle against him, though you have no intention of getting away. “I’d feel better if you stopped trying to get yourself killed!”

He roughly spanks your ass, making you squeal and squirm more. “Wet, ain’t ya?” he teases, rubbing your soaked folds. “Poor little pussy’s so empty ya can’t even think straight.”

“Stop it,” you say. “I’m annoyed with you.”

“I know, baby. I’ma fix it.” The stretch is divine when he shoves in, bordering on painful due to his size and the lack of prep. “Say ‘thank ya’, girl,” he orders. “Tell me how grateful ya are tha’ I’m makin’ ya feel better.”

“Daryl,” you plead. He doesn’t move, torturing you until you give into his demands. “Thank you! Goddammit, Daryl!”

You can almost feel him smirking. He never smiled more than he did when he was giving you his cock. “Tha’ didn’t sound very grateful. Say it ‘gain.” For further encouragement, he angles his hips so that he hits your g-spot just right. The hand that isn’t pinning you down snakes under your body to toy with your clit..

“Okay! Okay! Thank you, Daryl. Thank you.”

“Tha’ll do.” He starts rutting into you, roughly sliding in and out of your slick pussy. “Good little pussy, takin’ me so well.”

It’s almost embarrassing how close you are to your peak already. In your defense, the man fucks like a god, and you get wet just looking at him.

Bastard.

He toys with your clit and you peak hard, hardly noticing him biting your shoulder as he climaxes with you. “Feelin’ better, girl?” he asks, fastening his pants back up.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you want a quickie every time you’re about to go on a run. I’m still mad at you.”

“I’ll live, sweetheart.”

[mono-dot-jpeg]

bad decisions - i. sae, b. meguru & m. reo

summary; let's make some bad decisions.

genre/extra tags; rambling post?/scenarios???, fluff but not really, diet fluff, and diet angst, late night thoughts combined with day light thoughts, might be ooc

a/n; im gonna go out on a limb here and say you dont want yandere obsessive tendencies in the relationship (i dont write yandere bc i hate that trope and i dont understand the appeal). i only did three bc this was all i can think of, im so sorry- hope you enjoy this either way. thank you for requesting and for your patience.

i think we all saw this coming when i say, sae probably gotta have some odd habits and thoughts when it comes to being a relationship. he's precise and serious in his soccer, and that bleeds into his relationships. it has nothing to you, no, not when he's so used to seeing into every detail and every possibility. he keeps trying to predict what you will do, and then you surprise him when it's not what he expected. most of the time, this happens when you're just doing something without much thought. he gets kind of weird about it though, he just blue-screens and had to take a moment before asking what is wrong with you because you didn't do the thing he expected. you have to tell him that this is just how you are, and he refuses to be outsmarted by his partner when he's usually the one with the brain cell between you two.

he feels the need to check on you a lot because he doesn't express it outright. he observes you like he's in a game match. it's cute at first but then you realize, "oh god he's really paying attention a little too well..."

he hates if you ever even try to interact with rin. he is one jealous little shit. if he's in a good mood [which is hard to tell with him], you have like a higher chance of talking to rin. but most days, he's keeping you away from him.

bachira is unpredictable and he's crazy. he loves you a lot. and i mean a lot. he's extremely clingy towards things he cherishes and that probably stems from the lack of friends he had back then and he's just scared to lose you. but sometimes he really impedes on the day-to-day routine. he needs reassurance when you're gone. he texts you a lot. very standard clingy person.

he feels the need to be a guard dog. he's possessive but not in the way sae would be with his jealously. no, bachira is possessive but he's confident that he will keep you protected from others. but also he loves to wreak havoc so he likes being loud about being clingy and protective. it can get overwhelming.

i'm gonna be real, this one is short because bachira's traits could probably be pretty amplified in a relationship and honestly, i would go as far as to think that most of his traits would just be either better or worse in a relationship.

overbearing. that should be enough to explain it.

he's got a weird complex with him. at least that is what i think. he really stuck with nagi a lot, and i think he would do the same in a romantic relationship. he's gotten too used to coddling nagi and he does the same to you. he spoils you. and it's great at first, but it can be a lot at once. and honestly i think he feels the need to compensate for something. what is the thing he's compensating for? i don't know, but he gives me those "compensating for something with money" vibes.

i think it's safe to say that all the boys have a pride to uphold and reo is no different. he hates being inactive. he wants to help you all the time. and i mean all the time. he wants to be useful but he goes at it terribly. he wants to be relied on.

is it crazy to say that i think reo is the worst out of the three here? probably but whatever.

[emssturniolo]

talk to me

pairing: matthew sturniolo x reader

summary: matt knows you too well, especially when you aren’t being yourself

a/n: this was a request but i kinda gave it a little more plot :)

you did’t know what happened, really. one moment you were sitting on the couch at the triplets’ watching tiktoks aimlessly on your phone, and the next you were uncontrollably crying and shaking - to a person from an outside perspective, it might have seemed as if you had just fallen into frozen cold water, but you hadn’t. it was just your mind playing foolish tricks on you.

see, you and matt have been dating for a while - and you trusted him, so much - but this was a rare occurrence where your mind was doubting what it believed so thoroughly.

amongst the many tiktoks you had scrolled passed that night, one of them seemed to blur the vision of whatever in your head kept you thinking straight - it was a tiktok of matt… obviously, with a girl who seemed so so much younger than you suggesting that matt and some random influencer had been secretly dating.

the video had intense details, and things not even a mastermind would have thought to put together - which is probably what made you believe it - it suggested that matt and this influencer had met at tara’s party a while back, and displayed evidence of matt and her started liking each other’s posts not too long after the date of party.

now you weren’t one to usually believe these things, but it was so unrealistically possible, that your mind decided to play tricks on you, and there’a a high probability that your lack of sleep the previous night did not help.

matt was currently out with his brothers, filming a late night car video, and the shitty thing was that even if he wasn’t out - you couldn’t never get yourself to talk to him about something like this. you loved him so much that the possibility of him taking it the wrong way was too much to risk.

so when matt came back home later that night, and your mind was still racing, you had ultimately decided to suck everything up - but he knew you, maybe even a little too well, and when he noticed you weren’t laughing to his jokes as hard as you usually do, and that you weren’t as excited for the mcdonald’s he brought you home that night, he just knew something was up.

so he laid beside you on the couch when both nick and chris had gone down to their rooms for the night and asked you a simple question… which may have just sent you downhill.

“hey, what’s up? something’s wrong, i can tell.”

and with that, you broke down. anxiety flooding through your body, causing you to shake and stutter trying to respond to his question. in attempt to act like you were just fine, you failed. miserably.

“no-nothing. i’m- why?”

and with that he let out a harmless chuckle, purely to the fact you thought that he would believe your stuttering mess of a sentence.

“c’mon, angel. something's wrong.”

“you can take your time, just talk to me. please, i don’t want to go to bed worrying about you.”

your mind was moving fast. very fast. but you knew he wouldn’t drop it unless you told him exactly what was bothering you and what he could do to help.

“i just- i may or may not have seen a tiktok- god this sound so stupid-“ he cut you off the second those words left your mouth.

“hey no, nothing you say is stupid, just tell me”

“to be clear, i am fully aware you aren’t cheating on me- but there was a tiktok and it suggested you and some influencer were dating and i’ve just been dying all night thinking how i would actually survive without you if that ever happened and- i don’t actually know, i just panicked.”

his eyes widened at the word ‘cheating’, and then softened when he realized you were just overthinking, and then turned into this type of frowny shape when he thought of you having to doubt his never-ending love for you.

he didn’t know where to start from, so he just didn’t think about anything and let his heart speak.

“oh angel, you don’t ever ever ever have to worry about anything like that. i am so so so lucky to have you in my life, let alone call you mine, why would i ever trade that for anything else?and you know i understand more than anything that your anxiety is speaking right now, but please don’t worry so much over a tiktok made by some girl who’s probably twelve years old. if you don’t mind, can i see the video please?”

and with that you showed him the tiktok, the look on his face as confused as yours the first time that you had seen the video.

“i have never seen that girl in my life, angel, you can go through my phone if you want to feel better, but i promise you i haven’t.”

but there was no need to go through anyone’s phone - you trusted matt with your whole being, and now you yourself are doubting why you didn’t just a few minutes ago.

“no, matt,” you let out a slight breathy laugh “i trust you. i’m sorry, i think I just panicked, i don’t even know what was going through my head.”

matt made a gesture with his head, silently asking if he could hug you. you just put your weight onto him and he caught you with his warm handstand reciprocated the hug.

“you’re good, sweetheart.” he kissed the top of your head, and picked you up swiftly in one motion moments after, carrying you to his room.

[weasleys-wizard-writes]

Return {O.G}

Synopsis: You and Ominis are finally reunited on the Hogwarts express after several weeks apart. The only problem is, you're running late, and Gaunts are not known for their patience...

Note: Here's a little (fairly unedited) Ominis fluff blurb for you all to help tide everyone over until the next big fic is ready for posting <3.

"He's been waiting for you"

Sebastian teased as you all but stormed toward him, that smarmy grin of his making you wish you could recall the spell you'd learned to temporarily move one's mouth elsewhere.

You scoffed, giving him your most unimpressed glare,

"Of course he has. Doesn't he always?"

Except both of you knew what the slytherin had meant when he said those words, and you could tell by the look in his eye that he was more than aware of your understanding.

His grin morphed into something far more akin to a smirk than anything else, and you briefly searched the depths of your mind once more for any recollection of that mouth relocation spell, though you came up with nothing after a few moments of contemplation.

You sighed. There were much more pressing matters to attend to anyhow, it seemed.

"Quite."

Sebastian all but purred in response to your previous remark, shooting a less than subtle wink your way before gallivanting off in the direction of a bickering Leander and Garreth, no doubt hoping to stoke the flames of their already less than friendly conversation.

Rolling your eyes, you pushed open the door to the compartment that you and your friends had sat in for every trip made to Hogwarts thus far.

It was an unspoken rule, after all, that this particular car was favored by the ever particular and oddly intimidating Ominis Gaunt.

And, as things went, Ominis tended to be granted that which he was selective enough to vocalize aloud, whether he ever truly recognized it or not.

"Omini-"

"You're late."

You flinched softly at the obvious displeasure in the young man's voice, not for fear of his doubtless nonexistent retribution, but out of discomfort at the mere thought of being the cause of such a tone.

You wondered if Sebastian ever had the sense to care about such a thing, but found you would rather not know after a moment or two of deliberation on the subject.

You did not need yet another reminder of the ways in which your friendship with the youngest Gaunt heir differed from the one he shared with the sole remaining male Sallow.

Sighing, you nodded, knowing full well after so many years together that the blond sitting before you would sense the gesture regardless of his lack of sight.

He had a way of knowing such things, after all, particularly when they pertained to you and your movements.

He always seemed to know exactly where you were, as if attuned to your every breath.

"I know, I apologi-"

"I had to call in two favors to keep this train from moving without you, you know."

Ominis bit out before you could finish, immediately all but stunning you into silence.

Cutting you off twice in one conversation? Perhaps you'd upset him more than you'd initially realized.

"I mean honestly, late for the train in your seventh year? Was I foolish to believe you might have learned better by now?"

He all but scoffed, continuing with his tangent whilst crossing his arms and fixing his face with a scowl so cold it very nearly had you shivering.

"Probably not,"

You began a few moments later, allowing the sliding door to rest against your shoulder as you stood in the opening, your carry bag of necessities slung haplessly over your shoulder.

"But you know timing was never my strong suit."

Ominis rolled his eyes, immediately causing a small smile to tug at the corners of your lips in spite of your best efforts to keep it at bay.

"Far from it, as you've so kindly shown."

He muttered beneath his breath before turning his head toward you wordlessly, expression a rather amusing mixture of exasperation, confusion, and dwindling frustration as he opened his mouth to speak up once more after a few seconds of silence.

"And just what in Salazar's name do you think you're achieving by standing in that doorway, hm? Have somewhere else to be that you've conveniently neglected to mention?"

In response to your friend's accusation, you found yourself having to bite back a bout of laughter.

He would never admit it aloud, but Ominis was immensely fond of your quiet train rides back to school with one another, regardless of where he was returning from, and clearly he was concerned that you'd made other plans for your afternoon journey back to Hogwarts.

And of course, you would never admit it aloud, but doing such a thing was so inconceivable to you that it nearly made you burst out laughing, as evidenced by your present struggles.

After all, why would you ever want to spend time with someone else when you had Ominis Gaunt so impatiently waiting for you in the train compartment furthest from the rest in the second car down?

The answer, of course, was that you wouldn't.

"Certainly not."

You replied casually, amusement coloring your tone as the blond sitting before you scoffed once more, his cheeks glowing with a pink so faint that you could scarcely make it out, even in the brightness of the afternoon sun that beamed through the windows from high above the valley you were passing through in that moment.

"Well then what in the hells are you waiting for, a written invitation? Sit down already, you're letting far too much racket in standing there with the door open."

He huffed, averting his unseeing gaze away from you and toward the wall that sat opposite him as you shook your head with a grin and did as you were told with an eagerness you were glad that Ominis couldn't make out.

Making yourself comfortable within your place beside him, you couldn't help but take in the sight of his familiar profile, illuminated ever so slightly by the light filtering in through the glass.

It was always like this on these long rides back, you quietly admiring your friend as he sat, none the wiser, in the spot beside that which he always saved for you.

And, as an easy silence filled the room for the first time since your delayed arrival, you watched as the blond finally relaxed a bit in his seat, massaging his temples in slow circles until you finally leaned forward slightly to place a gentle hand just above his knee, the fabric of his perfectly tailored and painstakingly pleated trousers somewhat rough against your soft palm, though you found that the warmth radiating off of the man wearing them more than made up for that fact.

"I really am sorry for being late, you know."

You assured quietly, watching as the boy sitting beside you sighed and nodded almost imperceptibly, his cheeks now pink enough that you could make the color of them out with ease.

You tried not to think too hard about how happy the sight of that color upon his flushed skin made you, nor of just how much the fact that you had caused such a reaction was driving said happiness.

"I know."

Ominis replied gently, his hand finding yours, warm flesh upon warm flesh, the feel of his palm much softer than the fabric that was presently pressed against your own.

"I was simply worried that something had happened to you. It isn't typical to miss the train entirely, even for someone as truant as yourself."

His voice had a teasing lilt to it now, but you could still hear the strain hidden just beneath it as he spoke, poorly concealed even as you squeezed just above his knee encouragingly, reminding him of where you sat, perfectly safe at his side.

He seemed to deflate slightly at the gesture.

"Well, no need to concern yourself with my whereabouts anymore, Gaunt. I'm here, aren't I?"

Ominis chuckled under his breath, rolling his eyes with an exaggerated exasperation that you could tell he wanted to convey far more than he actually felt.

"Yes, I suppose you are."

And with that, you smiled, leaning your head familiarly upon the shoulder of the young man sitting just to the right of you before closing your eyes fondly when you felt the weight of his own atop it.

The two of you stayed like that, shoulder to shoulder, head against head, until eventually, the train began to slow, and the door burst open to reveal Sebastian, who grinned rather obnoxiously as he took in the sight before him.

"Well well well, not waiting anymore now are we, Ominis?"

"Oh sod off, Sebastian."

[laylaplease]

anakin breeding kink anakin breeding kink anakin breeding kink I want TWINS with this man. please… elaborate on this kink with him… please…

Anakin x afab!reader | Smut | Minors DNI

Warnings — BREEDING (obv, duh), soft dom Anakin, bit ordering you around, DADDY KINK, praise, pet names, explicit mentions of body fluids (goes without saying), brief nipple play, brief biting, clit play...

Word count — 2813

Notes — It's almost 4AM as I am finishing this. I'm pretty sure I'm lacking some warnings, and my editing is probably off, but I really wanted to post today. Thanks to my lovely mutual for requesting this; I loved writing it, and I hope it will be a nice read, XO.

There were a thousand thoughts in your head, running in circles and screaming what a miserable human you are for not being able to fight your primal urges, and they were all replaced by imagines of Anakin’s hands gripping your hips and stuffing you full of his cum. You could almost feel it in you; you could feel it setting into your ovum and dripping down your thighs, taking over every last piece of your identity and self-awareness. Your body wanted it. It was demanding it.

"What's the stare, love?" Anakin raised his head from a book, catching your eyes from across the room. His raspy voice and intense stare instantly snapped you out of your trance.

"N-nothing." You managed to stutter while trying to find a spot in your bedroom to focus on instead of his face or exposed forearm peeking from his rolled-up sleeve. Fuck.

He's got you.

Anakin let out a soft sigh, followed by a laugh. He slowly put the book aside and uncrossed his legs, staring at you. "Come here." He gestured with a swift movement of his hand.

If it was any other moon phase, you would have put on a show. You would have thrown a snarky comment at him, mocked his authority over you, or just ignored his commands, but since your clothes were almost evaporating from his gaze, you did not refuse.

"You're listening." A bit surprised, he smiled widely after seeing you slide out of the sheets and walk towards him. "Good."

He leaned forward, grabbing your hips as you stood before him and looked up at you with a little hint of amusement in his eyes. "I can smell it on you." He nudged his nose into your abdomen and took a deep breath.

You were about to protest when he turned you around and seated you on his lap, making your back rest against his chest. He leanedand kissed your neck softly. "You're wet."

He forced your legs open by making them rest on his outer thighs and spreading himself, dragging your limbs together in the process.

"I'm- " He was right, and you hated it, but you couldn't disagree when you felt his hand slip under the waistline of your pants and slide over your panties, rubbing the very core with his middle and index fingers.

Anakin let out a deep chuckle. "Oh, sweetheart, you're not wet... You're soaking."

With his free hand, he brushed your hair off your shoulder, softly scratching you with his metal fingers. He pressed his lips onto your now exposed skin.

"I could just slide right into your little pussy and you wouldn't feel a stretch..." Anakin whispered against your back, sending shivers down your spine.

His fingers continued softly rubbing over your panties and you could feel your core pulsing with anticipation. You make an unfortunate attempt to shut your legs close when he brushes over a sensitive spot, which makes Anakin chuckle.

"I know, baby, it's aching, isn't it? It's aching for me." Anakin gave your clothed core a gentle slap, making you gasp softly. "Tell Daddy what you need."

"I n-need you to..." You keep stuttering when his palm keeps fondling your wet folds slowly. "...Fill me up..."

You blurt out like a dog in heat, unable to contain its urges. Before you could say something else, Anakin froze. His hand stopped moving, his lips parted with your skin, and the only active sensation you could feel is his warm breath on the back of your neck. "You...What?"

"I-I..." Your face flushed deep pink when you sober up from the fantasy of your womb swelling with his seed. The shame you feel after making such a lewd request is almost unbearable.

Anakin grabbed your hips and, with a sharp movement, turned you around to face him. "Say that again."

His hands gripped your sides harshly, pressing your cunt onto his growing dick, which only made you stumble over your words more. He grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the eyes. "I said, repeat yourself."

You stared into his orbs; his gaze is intense, demanding in silence and forcing words out of your mouth. "Fill me...up..."

That was all Anakin needed to hear. His lips pressed onto yours, wasting no time and pushing his tongue inside your mouth like a starved man. His spit smeared over your lips from how messily he was devouring you. You could feel a pair of hands roaming all over your body, gripping your thighs and butt, pulling you closer by the waist to grind his hardening cock onto your pussy.

"Is that what you desire?" He whispered in between kissing you. "Want me to breed you? Fill your pretty hole with my cum until you're leaking?"

"Yes, Ani..." You manage to breathe out. His tongue was good at so many things, his filthy mouth and your fantasies coming together was a bliss. Especially when his greedy hands gripped your curves so eagerly, ready to grant you all of your wishes.

Anakin lifted you up, carrying you back into the soft sheets. "My love, my beautiful girl..." He kept whispering into your ear while planting kisses all over your neck. As soon as your back pressed into the mattress, his hips bucked into yours, grinding his proud cock and earning an erotic moan from you.

His hands left your curves only to tear your pants down your legs, taking the messed panties together and throwing the mess of clothing across the room. "I'm going to breed that tight little cunt." He grunted while pushing his pants down and freeing his throbbing cock, which he instantly pressed onto your twitching clit.

"Look at that..." He slapped his length over your folds a few times, smearing your lewd wetness on himself. "I'll fucking ruin you..."

"A-Ani..."

Anakin wasn't going to take your shit today, not when he knew your womb was ready to host his seed. He leaned back on top of you and pressed his hand against your mouth.

"You are going to be a good girl and let daddy fuck a baby in you, is that clear?"

Did you want to be a brat about it? Yes. Could you? Well, with his body on top of you and with his dick an inch away from your slippery hole, promising to fulfill your fantasy... Not really. So you nod.

"That's my girl." Anakin pressed a tender kiss on your forehead. His hand moved from your mouth to your cheek, caressing it softly. "My perfect girl." Then he kissed you. Softly, not forcing himself onto you, allowing it to linger. An action completely opposite of his demeanor.

It wasn’t long before your blouse was being sent across the room, his pants following right after. You gripped onto Anakin’s robes, pulling onto them and exposing his chest. He pulls out his arms from the sleeves and snakes them around you once again, firmly caressing your hips and stomach, obviously thinking about how perfect your body is to bear his children.

You wrap your arms around his back, digging your fingers into toned flesh as he teases your entrance with his slick tip. There is a visible grin on his face. To ease your suffering at least a bit, you go for a kiss. Another messy wet kiss with teeth clashing against each other and tongues moving in a messy sync, that only made sense to him and you. When Anakin pulls his lips away, you can’t help but pant after realizing how much oxygen he’s stolen from you.

“Come on, baby, spread your legs more. Let Daddy in.” Anakin is panting too. His hands are trembling in anticipation after finally being this close to ravishing your body raw.

And when he asks like that, how can you deny him? Your legs wrapped around his hips, which brought you even closer to him. His presence made your head spin; you are holding onto him as if he were the anchor to your physical body, as if your soul would cease to exist if your fingers weren’t touching him so so feverishly. You were kerosene, and his touch — a flame.

Your eagerness only made Anakin more famished for your body. He kept grinding himself onto you while his teeth repeatedly grazed into your neck, making sure to mark you as his outside your body before imprinting himself in your insides. You hated the fact that he was still attempting to tease you, which, despite how annoyed you were, still made you overflow with wetness.

“Fuck, baby, need to be inside you…” Anakin groaned, and with that, you felt his length splitting your opening apart.

He entered you slowly, purposely delaying the full pleasure of feeling him at the deepest parts of you. His forehead slightly furrowed, eyes closed in delight from feeling your soft walls hugging him. He wasn’t just going to fuck you; he was going to feel every part of your tight bare cunt against his length for the first time and memorize it. His mind is clouded with thoughts about finally being able to raw you whenever he desires to, because after tonight you will surely be bearing his child.

“Ana-kin!” You let out a choked moan of a word you know the best, clinging to him, your starved body making it hard for him not to cum within seconds of hitting your cervix. If it were any other day, you’d probably be begging for him to ease it up.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He settled still deep inside you, kissing your neck and collarbones while caressing your skin tenderly, as if thanking you for letting him ruin the last bit of innocence you had left. Anakin remained in place for a few moments until he felt your walls greedily clench around him, asking to be bruised. Today, he wasn’t going to deny you.

It took all of his self-control to set a nice and firm pace instead of instantly pounding you to oblivion; he wanted to savor the special moment as long as possible. Once he set a satisfying speed, endless grunts started spilling from his mouth, which you answered with incoherent words. The intense ecstasy he was giving you stripped you of your ability to form logical sentences.

And it wasn’t just his thick cock that made your muscles spasm; it was also the way your name rolled off his parted lips, the way his firm hands groped your shivering body, and skin glistened with sweat. It was his whole presence, his entire existence, that made you break for him.

He slammed into you repeatedly, sending electricity all over your body. The room echoed with sounds of pleasure, which only made Anakin steadily increase his pace, making lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin more frequent. You have never felt so drenched in fluids; the mess between your bodies was smearing all over your lower abdomen, sticking his flesh to yours like vile viscous glue.

“That’s it.” Anakin grunted when he filled you to the brim once more. “You’re. Taking. Me. So. Well.” Each word was separated by him pounding into you harder and harder. This was a point of no return.

Your quivering body was now answering all of his actions on its own. Your back kept arching, hardened nipples brushed against his chest with each flex of your spine. Anakin watched your breasts bounce in awe before grabbing your sensitive bud between his prosthetic fingers and pinching it softly.

“You are made to bear my children.” He started kneading your soft flesh; thoughts of your body adjusting to nurture his babies scrambled his brain, making it more difficult not to fill your cunt. “You’ll swell and stretch for my seed; you’ll bless me with many sons and daughters, and I will worship every square inch of your exhausted body.”

If you had any doubts about making Anakin a father, they were gone the second his words of desire reached your ears. You nodded your head frantically, unable to verbally answer him, unable to tell him how much your womb craved to carry his child.

“I’ll plant it in you. Or maybe two; do you think you can give me two at once, my love?” He whispered through his ragged breaths. “It’s okay if you can't; I’ll just fuck another one into you again.”

“P-please…!” You weren’t even sure what exactly you were pleading for. In fact, you couldn’t just beg for one thing. You wanted to come. You wanted him to go faster, to thrust harder, you wanted him to kiss you, and most importantly, you wanted his cum deep inside of you. You wanted him to coat your insides in white, make it spill out of you, you needed him in a primal and animalistic way. The same way he needed you.

In different circumstances, Anakin would have pulled out and made you beg for him to continue, beg for him to let you release, but this was a special night and he was going to fulfill your wishes. His hips moved rhythmically, digging into your sore body, hands grasped any parts of you he could reach. The more he was giving you, the more your legs trembled. Your cunt was tightening around his cock, signaling him about the upcoming wave.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” You nodded eagerly at his words, attempting to mumble more pleas but failing miserably. “Good girl, baby, cum all over daddy’s cock. That’s it.”

He reached down between your bodies, pressing two fingers over your swollen clit. He looked you in the eyes proudly, knowing this position allowed you to see how your dripping pussy swallowed his dick fully with each sharp thrust. His fingers rubbed you slowly, making sure to apply just enough amount of pressure to send you to cloud nine.

So close, you were so close. Seeing Anakin like that, trying to hold himself over you with one arm as his whole body was focusing only on your pleasure, it made you crave impossibly more of him. “Cum, baby girl, cum for me now.” He leaned and whispered while pressing his lips all over your face tenderly, making sure that, in between the storm of lust and passion, you knew that he loved you more than anything else in the galaxy.

And that was all it took. His pleading permission for you to let yourself go, affection and desire for you, his body abusing itself to please you... You couldn’t hold it anymore. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smashing your lips against his. The kiss was full of moans and whimpers, and he ate it all up like his last diner. Your walls spasmed tightly around him, vision darkened as your eyes rolled at the back of your skull. He kept pounding himself into you until the ultimate pleasure was sent across your body like thunder, making you quiver with a moan of his name.

“My love, my beautiful love..." Anakin whimpered after your juices of passion covered his entire cock. It was nearly impossible for him not to follow right away.

And there was no point in holding himself back anymore; he moved his hand off your clit, wrapping his arms around your body, and with a last sharp roll of his hips, you were filled with his warm seed. Your whole body was shaking from the feeling of hot cream settling inside of you, marking you as Anakin’s, devouring your whole body. He kept cumming as if he'd been holding himself for months, and you made an effort to clench your muscles to milk him as much as you could. Anakin’s body collapsed on top of you, his cock still entirely inside, basking in a sloppy mess of your love-making.

“I love you. I love you more than life itself.” He clinged on top of you, mixing your bodies entirely, skin to skin, sweat to sweat, heart to heart. He was entirely yours, and you were entirely his.

Anakin raised his head slightly, and in fear of his absence, your limp body found strength to hold onto him. “Stay. Right here, stay.” You pleaded with your eyes and voice, still gasping for air.

He carefully reached to stroke your cheek, making sure to not separate from your body. His fingers started tracing the supple skin lovingly. For a moment, he just stared into your eyes, trying to regain his strength to speak. “The gift you’ll give me, I’ll forever be grateful for.” His hand left your cheek and found a place on your hip, rubbing it with his thumb softly as if expecting a crumble of joy that will soon start growing inside of your womb to know about his presence before it even exists.

[softxsuki]

FOR YOUR EVENT !!

it’s meee, your number one fan :))

congrats on hitting 1.5k! you already know what’s up ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

may i have the trope drabble one, with trope #13: “who did this to you?” and the fandom is for obey me! shall we date? with fem!reader pleaseee !!

THANK YOUUUU :D

1.5k Follower Event Trope #13 Obey Me

Trope 13: "who did this to you"

Check out my event here! Event requests are CLOSED

Pairing: Lucifer x Fem!MC

Warnings: mentions of cuts and bruises

Genre: uhhh slight fluff, and comfort???

Post-Type: Drabble

Word Count: 500

Note: I think this trope fits with a few of the obey me characters like Solomon (he's mysterious but imagine him seeing you hurt and he just snaps, his usual cool exterior crumbling away AHHHHH). But ultimately I picked Lucifer. He's probably the most protective and possessive of everyone combined so it was a no brainer to pick him. THANK YOU SO MUCH LOVIE, ILY and I hope you enjoy! <33333

“Who did this to you?” Lucifer grits, staring at the cuts that weren’t there this afternoon when he saw you off after class. He had to stay behind for an urgent student council meeting, leaving you to walk back to the House of Lamentation alone, much to his hesitance.

“It’s just a few scrapes, there’s no reason to get so upset,” you mumble, not really wanting to think of the group of demons who decided to surround you and pick on you due to your lack of security. One of the brothers usually walked home with you, knowing how some of the residents of the Devildom felt about you, a human, living in their world, attending their school, but they happened to all be busy today.

It was already late as Lucifer stood in your room, his brows furrowed and a scowl on his face at your not-so-pleasant appearance. He knew he should have just walked you home and then returned for this meeting after. 

“Which lowly scum decided it was okay to place their filthy hands on you while I wasn’t around?” He seethes, “Even if you don’t tell me, I’ll find out. And once I do, just know that they’ll pay.”

He was beyond furious. As your lover, he felt responsible for you, especially in a world like the Devildom that was dangerous for a human like you, yet he was too selfish to send you back to the human world. He loved you and needed you beside him.

“Luc, it’s really not a big de-”

“Enough! Come with me,” he shouts, grabbing your wrist, surprisingly gently despite his clear anger at whoever harmed you. Though he was powerful and easy to anger, Lucifer would never harm you.

The halls were empty and dimly lit, the other brothers already tucked away in their own rooms for the night, aside from Beelzebub who was likely scouring the kitchen for more food; Lucifer led you through the halls all the way to his room.Closing the door behind him, he placed you on his bed before leaving for a first aid kit, something he kept around, specifically for your sake since he and his brothers never got hurt.

“Let me see,” he says softly, now a little calmer since he knew you were safe and with him. You raise your face to him, and once again a small frown appears across his lips, unsatisfied with what had happened. 

His long fingers trace over the small cuts and bruises on your face, mostly upset at himself for letting you walk home alone–he should have known better.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, gently cleaning up your injuries with the utmost love and care, wishing he could magically heal you in moments like these. “They’ll pay, I swear they’ll pay.”

There was nothing you could say or do to convince him otherwise. Those lowly demons had chosen to place their hands on you, his woman, so they were bound to face the wrath of your man.

EVENT REQUESTS ARE CLOSED :D

REGULAR REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 9/11/2023

[physalian]

When To Keep Your Writing Stiff (pt 7)

Part 6

Part 1

Gonna shoutout a specific fanfic, “Salvage” (ATLA) for writing that is even leaner than mine is, and mine has zero fat whatsoever. This was really good. I particularly like how some scenes were only 2 or 3 lines long as an example of what I’m going for here.

When I say “stiff” in the following examples I’m specifically talking about a lot of the same syntax, few similes and metaphors, few ‘said’ synonyms, very little, well, “life” in the prose. And this can be good in a few situations.

1. Your narrator is in shock

Shock doesn’t all look the same, but the kind of shock I mean is the one where the person is really quiet and un-emotive, they’re probably not speaking or reacting much to whatever catastrophe just happened and probably not responding to their name or anything spoken to them. Their body is pretty much going “uhhhhhhhhh factory reset!” when whatever it is, is too much to process.

A asks them a question. Once. Twice. B stares ahead. There’s a brown stain on the wall that looks like a thumb.

So if they’re narrating, they’re probably going to be giving the absolute bare minimum, need-to-know information and won’t be thinking about the best adjectives and adverbs. Especially if you normally write with fluffier prose, a jarring shift like this can really help sell the shock and dissociating of the character, something so traumatizing that it effects how the story is told.

2. Your narrator is depressed

Somewhere between New Moon’s 4 pages of just Months to show Bella did absolutely nothing in a depression rot and normal prose (though it was effective, particularly in the movie when they could draw out the words on the screen for longer and did the whole spin-around-her-depression-chair montage).

January came. It rained a lot.

They’ll probably either narrate very thinly, or listlessly. They might focus on a random detail and start going on a long ramble about that one detail that isn’t at all important, but it’s either all they can think about or all that can move them to feel anything in this moment, like:

On the bedside table, that coffee mug still sat there in a thin sheet of dust. What had been liquid now long since dry and gluey. It still sits there, collecting cat fur.

This might be the best place for sentences that all sound and flow exactly the same, but use it sparingly.

3. Your narrator is having a panic attack or trapped in a traumatic situation

Different from shock in that while they are physically capable of moving and interacting, they can’t let themselves describe what they’re seeing and feeling in grand detail. Maybe they’re moving through the horrific aftermath of a battle and all they can describe is the mud under their feet and how it squelches. Or they simply say that “there’s bodies everywhere” because looking too long or too hard at who those bodies belonged to is too much.

4. You’re writing something that has incredibly fast pacing

This post was inspired by a fic I just wrote that spanned about 5 months in about 18k words. Narrative was skipping days ahead between paragraphs at some point as my character was processing the end of an abusive relationship. It sped up and slowed down where necessary, but compared to its sequel that I also just finished (22k words across 7 days), I’d covered a whole month in about 2 sentences in the first one.

See nearly any part of Salvage (or my fics if you feel like it)

What happened in that month didn’t matter, only what was before and what’s different now and how this character realizes how their life is slowly changing, some things they never noticed that are suddenly right in their face or things that quietly slipped away.

—

TLDR; sometimes the lack of emotion and sensory details and frenetic, dynamic syntax is the point, that can sell the reader on the narrator’s mental state far better than picking the juiciest adverbs. If it’s so impactful to them that the physical telling of the story is changed, you’ve done your job.

[im-ovulating]

(A/n: Why did nobody tell me Rami Malek's back is this delicious?)

(First Ahk post go brr!!)

Word Count: 1,198

Summary- The morning after your first night as Ahkmenrah's wife

Warnings: Masturbation, Blowjob, Overall, just a soft yet horny morning

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Morning After: First Life! Ahkmenrah x Fem! Reader

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

Sunlight filters through the thin fabric of the curtains, illuminating the room and with it, the dark of your closed eyes. It feels far too early to be this bright, though you know that's probably due to the lack of sleep you got during the night. The thought brings a smile to your face; remembering that just to your side is the love of your life. Your lover… Your soulmate… Your husband… Your Pharaoh.

The steady weight of him next to you paired with the heat radiating off of him and the memory of the night before has a different warmth curling in your core like a snake rearing its head back waiting for the right time to strike. It's believed that the Pharaohs of Egypt are living gods, half man, half god- direct connections to the Gods of the lands and skies. You already regarded Pharaohs as such, but last night only strengthened your belief in the ideology. There was no way a mere man should be able to move his hips in the way that the man next to you can.

The serpent coils hopelessly tighter as your mind wanders to how he coaxed you through orgasm after orgasm as though it were nothing. His hips, his fingers, even his tongue drawing you over the edge time after time until you could take it no more. Making you hold on just long enough for him to finish as well; his hot seed swarming your insides as if it didn't belong anywhere but deep inside of you. You clench at the memory of the possessiveness of his growl as he had stilled inside of you.

Your thighs tense and your breath hitches as your hand trails it's way to your heated core, lightly rubbing at the swollen bundle of nerves. The lingering sensitivity from the abuse it took just hours prior steers you closer to release quicker than normal. Your labored breaths are the only sound in the quiet of your bed chamber. Tighter and tighter the asp coils, in time with the meek whimpers that have started to escape you.

"Ra above... You are absolutely divine, my Queen." The serpent strikes, lashing out with such intensity your vision goes white and you have to slap your hand over your mouth as you cry out in pleasure. "Ahk~"

In your lust-induced state, you had failed to take note of your husband waking up just in time to watch you cream all over your hand. His voice pushing you into the euphoric arms of Hathor. Your release drips onto the pristine, white bedsheets as you catch your breath.

Ahkmenrah slides an arm under you to pull you to his chest. "What did I do to deserve waking up to such a spectacle?"

You finally open your eyes, unable to help the heat that spreads across your cheeks at his question. Mind still muddy with fading orgasmic haze, all you can muster is a hum as you wiggle deeper into his hold, your own arms wrapping around his waist. You can feel his arousal pressing against your naval, but he doesn't seem bothered enough to do anything about it. Instead, Ahkmen starts tracing seemingly random designs along your exposed skin, content to just lay with you; it takes you a second to realize that he's tracing the marks he left on your skin. Surely, beautiful shades of red and purple by now.

"Are you hurting?" His voice stays soft as he doubles around what you can only assume is a fairly sized mark.

The thought makes you proud; proud that he chose you to be the one to carry his marks, to rule by his side, to love, but also proud that you now have physical representation that you belong to him; no matter how temporary -they can always be replaced. You don't bother to try to hide how warm and fuzzy the notion of belonging to Ahkmenrah makes you as you place gentle kisses along his collarbone.

"I'm a little sore," you admit, nuzzling his neck, "but it's a welcomed ache, I assure you."

He physically deflates a little, his relief showing in the form of a reassured sigh.

"I'm glad," Ahkmen murmurs into your hair as he pulls you in tighter.

He shifts and you're made all too aware of his hard length resting against your stomach once more. He may be able to stifle his needs but you are not so patient. Wordlessly, you shift down, sliding between the silk sheets until you're face to face with his excitement.

"Love?" Ahkmenrah lifts the covers only to groan at the sight of you already looking up at him with big doe eyes.

He took such good care of you last night -this morning as well considering just the thought of him was enough to get yourself off to- so it's only fair that you take care of him now. Without breaking eye contact, you open your mouth to let your tongue slide against his already dripping slit. The noise that falls from his lips is absolutely sinful; shifting closer you take the dark tip of his member into your mouth, gently suckling on the head.

He sucks in a sharp breath as you start to take more and more of him into your mouth with each bob of your head. The corners of your lips turn up at the sight of your husband falling apart from just your mouth. His hands are fisting the sheets beneath him as ragged breaths puff from his slack jaw. His intense gaze is still locked on you.

Taking his still open eyes as a challenge, you double down on your efforts; hands bracing on his thighs, you take a deep breath and swallow down as much of his cock as you can before he hits the back of your throat.

All at once, his hand comes up to grip your hair as his head slams against his pillow. A guttural groan rips its way through his chest, deep and rough, that sends a shock of arousal through your core and has you slicking yet again. The sight of him has your eyes rolling back as you moan around his length.

The hand in your hair tries to pull you off as he warns you of his pending release but you push deeper, hollowing your cheeks and running your tongue along the underside of his phallus. There's a slight buck of his hips before his salty spend is filling your mouth and spilling out the corners. You pull off with a pop, opening your mouth to show him the fluid on your tongue before swallowing with a smirk.

"Gods, you're going to be the death of me, my love." Ahk pulls you up to press a searing kiss to your swollen lips.

"A death worthy for a Pharaoh," you tease when you separate for air, voice slightly hoarse.

His hearty laugh fills the silence of the room before he kisses you again. This time softer, taking his time to coax your mouth open as your bodies mold together, two puzzle pieces united at last.

"There's no other death I would prefer~"

[edges-of-night]

hi! I've just discovered your blog and I love it - from the url, profile pic, everything 😍 and most importantly your writing, it's so cute and you're able to write so many characters 🥰 as a fellow fic writer - I'm impressed 💜 can I request how they would first realize they love you, and how they would say it for the first time? No pressure, and thank you so much if you end up doing it. 🥰

- @wordbunch (sadly can't send asks from my Tolkien sideblog, so I'm on anon lol)

Thank you so so much for your kind words!! ♡ I’ve actually had this scenario in my “to do notes” already, so I’m very happy you requested it haha! Sorry again for posting so late, I hope you enjoy the read!

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

Aragorn is not someone to make the first step in romance, even if he is the one falling in love first. He’d probably realise it during the ranger job you do together, like looking for herbs or reading traces – where his hand brushed against yours! But Aragorn is very much the person to respond to a love confession of yours, after which he tells you that he reciprocates your feelings in a very romantic manner: “Me too. I am bound to you by honour and affection alike. If you would have me…”

･ﾟ✧ Arwen.

Arwen would fall in love with you after dancing together. It could be on a ball her father’s giving, or just the two of you under the moonlight, where she’d laugh of bliss. You’d notice a slight change in her behaviour afterwards, more smiles, stolen glances – but you could only be sure after she finally told you, “It is because I have fallen for you, melethel. And there is nothing you can do about it!”

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir takes a casual approach to love and romantic relationships. This is why his love confession to you would be rather nonchalant, maybe over a lunch you’re preparing together over the fire. “I love you, you know that?” he’d say, all cool – as if he didn’t fall for you when he saw you fearlessly wielding a sword and shield during combat training…

･ﾟ✧ Elrond.

Elrond would fall in love with you so gradually he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint an exact moment of realisation. Maybe it would be over a book you’re reading together, or when he told you about all the ancient stories he witnessed himself – or a grand love story. And then he’d turn to you and say, “Are you aware that this is how I feel about you as well?” He’d be very tender and playful about it, but earnest at the same time. He is very considerate toward you.

･ﾟ✧ Éomer.

Éomer doesn’t fall in love easily. Maybe due to this lack of experience, he has trouble expressing his feelings after that one horseback ride you did through the rain, where he helped you out of your dirty clothes afterward. His love confession would be a tedious process, with lots of phrases like, “Don’t make me say it. I lack the words to tell you…” – before he eventually leans in for a kiss and quietly adds, “Forgive me. I hope this tells you all the same.”

･ﾟ✧ Éowyn.

Éowyn is always brash and joyous around you, so her love confession would take you quite by surprise. She’d pick “an old Rohirrim tradition” to show you, maybe a special exchange of gifts, a traditional dance routine etc. “This is how the people of Rohan express their love,” she’d tell you with a soft smile and hopeful eyes. If asked, she would tell you when she realised she loved you: during sword lessons, of course!

･ﾟ✧ Faramir.

Faramir falls in love with you as soon as he meets you. He’s always been like that, heart racing with as little as a soft look or touch of a hand. For this same reason, and Gondor’s marriage policy, he swallows down any confessions because he has little hope in his own feelings. But after months, maybe years of courting and mutual affection, he’d finally tell you, in some grand romantic spot he chose – on his knees – because he’d connect it to a marriage proposal!

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

Frodo would realise he loved you on a warm summer morning, as you’re walking barefoot in the grass – and then not tell you. He’d keep his secret to himself (haha), just smile to himself and subtly check the way you’re feeling before confessing to you – probably while holding both your hands, because that’s how sincere he is! “It gives me hope to hear you say that, because I, too, hold you very dear and love you very much!”

･ﾟ✧ Galadriel.

Thanks to her powerful telepathy skills, Galadriel probably knows you love her before you yourself do. She knows all about your feelings – but nothing of her own. I like to imagine her as blissfully oblivious, right up until the moment you confess to her. Then something would click inside her, and with a blank stare ahead, she’d whisper, “I love you, too. I haven’t realised it until now – but I do.”

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Gandalf would realise he loved you after you’ve said or done something incredibly smart, like maybe found the solution to a problem that he was unable to solve. It’d make his heart skip a beat, he even looks away with a blush! And then he’d despair trying to find a “suitable moment for courtship”, as the old ways suggested, full of ceremony – and probably end up telling you his feelings very casually over a cup of tea he invited you to.

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

Your usually hard-shelled Dwarf gets very flustered when he says the three words to you – followed by some nervous babbling, like, “There! I said it first. And I mean it very earnestly.” The moment he fell for you was probably connected to seeing you in a new light: Working in the mines all day leaves little room for elegance, but after seeing you in your beautiful banquet outfit, Gimli was walking into walls for the next three days!

･ﾟ✧ Haldir.

Haldir has always dreaded falling in love. But when you smiling at him makes his heart skip about three beats, he cannot lie to himself any longer. He can lie to you and everyone else though, needless to say. Not that anyone actually believes his denials… But Haldir would only confess his love in a life-or-death situation, when he thinks he’d never get the chance again. Then, of course, he’d be as elegant and romantic as all Elves are.

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

If you are near Legolas the moment he realises he loves you – on a scouting trip, for example, or during preparations for a ball in Mirkwood – he’d tell you right away. He’d give you an analysing look, with a smile dancing around his lips, and say something like, “How I love you right now! I love you very much, my dear.” Thanks to his royal training, of course, he’d respectfully draw back until you’ve made your own feelings clear.

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

While he’s usually rather easy-going, Merry would plan out his love confession (meaning: a speech!) step by step, including an outfit plan and meal schedule designed specifically for you. He is the thinking type, and when it comes to this, he tends to overthink. He’d include a line like, “From the moment I first saw you…” when in reality, he probably fell for you when you joined one of his shenanigans without any reservations, proving just how similar you two are at heart.

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Pippin strikes me as a very “love at first sight” kind of person. At the same time, he’s really casual and playful about it. He’d only talk about it in return of your confession to him, like, “I never thought about that! I fell in love with you the first time we met!” – and probably shower you in a million compliments in the process!

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

Sam would realise he’s in love with you while thinking of new poetry to write – because all he thinks about is you! Somewhen along the line, he’d lean back in his chair, starting at the dozens of pages he wrote about you – and then have the overwhelming urge to go up and meet you to tell you right away, in his adorably sincere and gentle manner ♡

[look-at-the-soul]

The way to a man’s heart

Tommy Shelby x reader (dark) -minor smut mentioned

Wrote this for my dear Lee @zablife 1.8 k celebration 🎉 congratulations my dear Lee! I wanted to write this for you remembering how much you made me enjoy dark stories and it’s a great excuse to wish you a thousand more followers, thank you for being so kind always, for always having something nice to offer and the absolutely brilliant ideas you share! ✨👏🏻

My first (and probably only) attemp to write a little “corrupt” story, this idea came to me naturally and I hope I was able to deliver the main point since it’s so far away from my usual fluff 🥰

They say food it’s the way to man’s heart. But to a man like Tommy Shelby who rarely eats and has a whiskey and cigarette for breakfast, that doesn’t make a huge difference.

Those methods wouldn’t work with a man like Tommy, he needed other kinds of resources.

Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Y/N fixed her hair and reapplied her lipstick. Stepping back into the bedroom, she found him in the same spot he was when she got up; lying on his back against the headboard and his eyes lost in some point at the ceiling, one of his hands touching the hem of the sheets covering his lower body.

She definitely took his breath away, it was easy to tell judging by his post-sex drunk state. Who was she trying to fool? Y/N knew the kind of power she held over him.

His blue eyes covered by his specs followed her every move as she walked towards the bed wearing only the bottom part of her silky underwear, her hips swaying to a tune that him weak, not only physically, but emotionally.

“You’re so quiet darling.” She purred in his ear, after climbing back into the bed.

“I missed you.” He admitted bluntly. “I don’t want you to leave ever again, you understand?”

Y/N started running her fingers over his chest hair. “You know why I did it, your family hates me.”

Tommy turned his head towards her.

“I’m so sad you believed them, over me.” She pouted. “I’d never betray you.”

“Nothing they do or say matters anymore, I know you didn’t… I trust you.”

“But they will try to tear us apart.” She complained, looking at her hands.

Tommy changed his position on the bed, leaning on his forearm, he used his other hand to make Y/N look at him. “I’ll protect you, from now on you’re my only priority.”

“How could they even imagine I was the one who got them arrested? You never mentioned anything to me.” Y/N batted her eyelashes, one of her fingers removing an invisible tear.

“I shouldn’t have listen to them, I made a mistake but I’m trying to make it up to you for that.” Tommy’s fingers caressed her chin gently. The last thing he wanted was to upset her more than he already had. “I’m taking over this, I will demand every single one of my family to apologize to you.”

“No, Tommy that’ll cause a confrontation, specially with your aunt… I’m just so glad they got released on time, it was so close.” With a loud sigh, Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder, her soft hand running up and down his arm.

“You never told me how you were able to get the letters, those must be some pretty important contacts.” He recalled the really late night when she knocked on his door with a copy of each letter to release his family from the death sentence, Y/N saved them from getting hanged last minute. He would be forever grateful with her.

That’s when Tommy realized how much she loved him, how she was willing to do anything for him.

Y/N noticed his piercing eyes on her. “What?”

“Something is bothering you.” Tommy stated.

She shook her head. “It’s just… it’s not fair for you Tommy, look at everything you have gave your family, power, money, their lifestyle, everything they have it’s because of you… it wasn’t your fault the police took them.” She looked at him, batting her eyelashes. “And look at how they treat you? The lack of respect makes me feel annoyed, they won’t even talk to you although you somehow managed to save them from getting hanged.”

“They are all angry because of what happened. It must’ve been a shock to be so close to death.”

“Don’t try to justify their attitude towards you darling, you’re too good for them, you’re always cleaning up their mess, helping them with everything… they don’t deserve you.”

Tommy sighed, defeated, thinking of her words… she was right, his family couldn’t even thank him for getting them out of jail in one piece.

“Look at this place, just the two of us, this is all we need. Just cut a little their privileges and you’ll see how they’ll come on their knees.”

“I understand they’re angry, but over time, they will come around.” He tried to reason.

“And then what? They will create more drama around me and try to make you turn your back at me, just like they already had, I’m worried because they almost succeeded.”

“I’m so glad you showed up in my office to explain me what happened with Pol.”

“She can’t stand that you’re better than her, I’m sure she wants her son to take over your place, you should be careful with your cousin I’m sure he’s after you.”

Tommy shook his head. “Michael isn’t like that, he’s just a lost kid, wants to blend in with the family.”

Y/N moved her hand lower, to a dangerous zone, over his hip bone. His member started to grow involuntary at the sensation of her warm palm close to his manhood.

“Arthur never listens to you and look at Finn, he’s always doing as he pleases.” Tommy hissed as her hand wrapped around his shaft and started dancing up and down. “You need to tighten the reins around your family or they will ruin your plans.”

But Tommy was already focusing on the feeling of her legs straddling him and the movements of her hand, taking him to a better place where he didn’t have to argue or yell or demand anything, she knew how to please him, she listened to him and his loud mind. In no time, he found himself inside of her, the only place where he could forget about every worry and doubt, her velvety walls fluttering around his hard member, her nails on his chest scratching him.

Demanding only pleasure from him.

And he delivered returning the pleasure she provoked in him.

Later the doorbell made her open her eyes, heavy from their love-making, Y/N looked down at the man sleeping in her arms. Careful to not wake Tommy up, she slid from under his body, covering her naked frame with the jacket of his suit.

Pretending to be surprised by the woman in front of her -because she called his aunt on behalf of Tommy-, she made evident the mark on her neck that Tommy left.

“Sorry for not inviting you in, but your nephew is sleeping.”

Polly shot her a shocked look mixed with all the contempt in her heart after realizing how she had fooled Tommy and turned everything around in her favor.

“Who’s it?” He asked from the top of the stairs.

Quickly, Y/N pulled Polly for a short hug to whisper in her ear:

“Next time the letter won’t arrive on time to save you from getting hanged. I want you and every fucking member of the family out of Tommy’s life.”

“You can’t do that.” Polly looked at her with terror in her eyes, why was she back with Tommy? After finding out all the lies she had him wrapped in, Polly tried to make Tommy open his eyes, but everything turned out wrong and they were back together.

“I’ve him by the balls, that’s stronger than any blood ties. It’s up to you if you want me to turn him against all of you.” Y/N gave Polly one smile that assured her victory before turning around to face Tommy. “Your aunt said she wants to talk to you, just be quick darling, I’ll be waiting in the bedroom.”

Standing on her tiptoes, Y/N pulled Tommy by the neck for a passionate kiss, she devoured his mouth completely, demanding the same response from him. Just one kiss and he was put into some kind of spell.

Tommy made sure Y/N was out of sight before grabbing Polly by the arm to make her stand closer to the door.

“Y/N explained me everything, I want you to apologize to her tomorrow and after that I want you out of the Shelby Company Ltd. I won’t be tolerating one more intrigues from you, she didn’t lie to me.”

“She’s manipulating you!” Polly hissed, shocked to see her nephew completely blinded by that woman.

“Pol stop! You thought you succeed but nothing you can do will take her away from me, she loves me and she forgave me for doubting her words.”

“How can you be so fool? She’s using sex to-”

“That’s what you came for? Ey?” Tommy raised his voice. “That’s all, I want your resignation letter tomorrow morning.” He placed his hand on Polly’s back to guide her out of his house.

“She lied!”

“Stop this bullshit Polly, Y/N didn’t know you shot Campbell because I never told her.”

Hiding in the dark, but close enough to hear, Y/N smiled pleased, Tommy didn’t know how much he could talk after several strong drinks and mixing it with the mind blowing sex and he could turn into the most talkative person.

But her smile grew bigger as she heard him yelling at his aunt, saying things Polly would never forgive him for, breaking their business partnership finally, just like she had planned all along.

“I knew she would try to tell you more lies about me.” She crossed her arms against her chest and slowed down her pace, hiding her grin with her hair.

Tommy’s arms found their way around her waist, in a comforting motion.

“I know you’re not lying to me,” he stated firmly. “We’re going to start over, away from this shit, ey?”

“Is that a promise?” She gave him her best puppy eyes.

“I swear to you, no one is coming between us.”

She felt Tommy kissing the top of her hair.

Now, she only needed to get rid of his brothers and convince him to put the company under her name.

****

Master List

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