#grantchester smut

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Hi I’d like to request Abraham with a breeding kink. They’ve already got twin boys and another boy but Abraham wants a girl like her mother, so he puts reader in a mating press and fucks her stupid till his cums taken root

Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Semi-arranged marriage. Ideals that might seem sexist but are quite typical for Romani communities, especially in a 1950s setting. Mention of loss of virginity. Breeding kink. Smut. Word count: ~2k

Author's note: I did a lot of research into Romani culture to ensure I got this right, but if there's anything that is incorrect or handled insensitively, please let me know. Abraham doesn't have a surname, a he's such a minor character, for the purpose of this fic I've given him one - it's Lee - quite a common Romani surname in the UK. I don't have a tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She has spent her whole life dreaming of her wedding day, her thoughts filled with what her husband will be like and how many children they’ll have. 

She idolises her mother. Growing up, she helps her to care for her siblings and to keep a clean home. She learns how to cook, how to sew, all of the skills that will shape her into the perfect Romani wife. 

She hopes for a union that will strengthen her and her future husband’s familial ties and contribute towards their small community of travellers. 

It’s with excitement when she turns eighteen that she learns that a man within their community wishes to marry her, but she is nervous when she finally gets to meet him. 

Abraham; she knows of him, though they have never properly spoken. She finds him intimidating. He’s tall, has sharply chiseled features, slicked back hair and piercing blue eyes, tattoos litter his forearms. He is undeniably handsome, but there’s something about his smirk that suggests an element of danger. She’s uncertain of whether it frightens or excites her, the feeling that flutters in her lower belly when she looks at him is unfamiliar to her.

Her fate is sealed when Abraham gifts one of his prized thoroughbreds to her parents as his bride price. It’s a massive horse, with a shiny chestnut coat that he has clearly cared well for. He could sell it into racing and earn thousands, so the fact that he is prepared to part ways with it in exchange for her hand in marriage is more than enough to convince her mother and father. She cannot deny the way her heart flutters at the gesture either, it’s exciting to know that a man of his reputation is so eager to be wed to her.

Their wedding day feels like a dream come true, with both their families coming together to celebrate the happy couple. Yet despite the jubilant atmosphere and effort everyone has gone to to ensure the day is perfect, nerves swirl like butterflies within her. Their courtship has never allowed them any real time alone together and she is anxious for what will happen on their wedding night when it’s finally just the two of them.

As they join hands, Abraham’s blue eyes gazing deeply into hers with a tenderness she didn’t know he was capable of, her stomach does flips, but this time anxiety is not the cause.

When his lips press against hers for their first kiss, she is taken aback by their remarkable softness. He treats her with such reverence and care, as though he is handling something precious and fragile.

She trembles like a leaf as his steady hands help her out of her wedding dress to lay her down upon their marital bed. His calloused palms stroke across her skin, soothing her and she is once more surprised at his gentleness, a stark juxtaposition to his rugged appearance.

He takes his time with her, his kisses and caresses are unhurried, causing her to melt with pleasure, so that when he does push inside of her for the first time she feels only the faintest of stings.

As soon as she relaxes, her breathing growing heavier, her hips chasing the movement of his, it’s as though a switch is flipped inside of him.

He slings one of her legs over his shoulder, his thrusts becoming harder and faster, his forehead pressed against hers against as his eyes stare into hers.

“Been fuckin’ obsessed wi’ ya since I first laid eyes on ya,” he rasps, “Knew I had to have ya. You’re gonna look so pretty when I knock you up.”

She gasps at his words, tightening involuntarily around him, and it’s not long before he’s spilling inside of her as her own climax sends her sensitive inner walls into spasms.

Abraham’s appetite for her is insatiable and he has her on every available surface of their shared caravan, at every opportunity. She grows to love him. He has a mean streak, though it is never directed towards her; he treats her with utter adoration and is fiercely protective of her. It is only when they are intimate that his temperament towards her darkens, becoming possessive, spilling forth confessions of his desires for her to fall pregnant. She doesn't mind this, however; on the contrary, it excites her. When they aren’t together, he works hard with the horses, while she takes care of their home, and their married life is a happy one.

When she learns she’s expecting, he’s ecstatic, his large hand cradling her abdomen as he smiles down at her. She gives birth to healthy twin boys, Noah and Elijah, and six months later she discovers she’s pregnant again.

She is overjoyed when her third baby boy, Logan, is placed into her arms, though there is a small part of her that feels disappointment that he’s not a girl.

Over the next five years, their home is filled with love and laughter as the boys grow and Abraham dotes on all of them. The male energy within their home can feel stifling at times for her, and when their sons excitedly accompany Abraham to the stables each day, she feels lonely, missing the connection she had with her mother.

She longs for a daughter, someone she can teach to cook and look after a home, much like her mother did for her. But with three noisy boys keeping them occupied, there is rarely time for them to try again.

Wistfully, she thinks back on the days of when Abraham thrust into her on every surface, a memory that now seems unrealistic when they’re battling against endless shouts of “I’m hungry!” and “he’s hitting me!”

The sun has barely begun to rise as she slips out of bed, unable to sleep. Her hands cup around the steaming mug of tea as she stares out of the caravan window at the horizon, a sense of longing settling into her as she thinks about how soon her husband and the boys would be awake, leaving her alone again for the day.

She is startled out of her thoughts when she feels Abraham’s sturdy arms wrap around her waist, his chest against her back as he leans over her shoulder. The cleft of his nose presses into her hair, inhaling deeply before dragging lightly across her cheekbone.

“You’re up early, Mrs. Lee,” he whispers.

She hums in acknowledgement, leaning back against him. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“You alright, love?” Concern tinges his voice, his hand raising to cup her jaw, tilting her face to look at him.

“It’s stupid, don’t worry,” she says, moving away to place her mug in the washing up bowl on the kitchenette side.

“Oi,” he chides, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to him. “Less of that. Tell me.”

She sighs, pressing her palms flat against the solid expanse of his chest, before sliding them upwards to rest on his shoulders. “I just…I get lonely with you and the boys gone all day. I’ve just always wanted–”

“A girl?” Abraham cuts her off with a smirk.

“Yeah…” She says, lowering her gaze, feeling her skin heat up with embarrassment.

“What’s to stop us trying?” He asks, rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Fat chance of that when we’ve got a caravan full of screaming kids already.”

He nods his head, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “Well, how about we send the boys to Cora’s for a bit tonight? Once I’m finished with the horses today, it’ll be just you and me for the evening.”

Her eyes light up and she grins excitedly, the thought of some alone time with her husband for the first time in five years making her feel giddy. “Oh, I’d love that!”

When Abraham and the boys are ready to leave for the stables later that morning, he leans in to whisper to her as he kisses her cheek. “Hope you’re ready for all the things I’m gonna do to you later.”

A shiver of excitement shoots up her spine and she spends the rest of the day filled with nervous energy, unable to concentrate properly on anything.

In spite of her restless excitement, she ensures the caravan is spotless and bakes Abraham his favourite steak and kidney pie for dinner.

When he steps through the door later that evening, he’s unaccompanied by their sons, and is holding a bunch of wildflowers, which she recognises from the fields that surround his walk to and from the stables. She smiles at the thought that he’d gone to the effort to pick them for her, taking them from him with a peck on the lips as thanks.

“Made your favourite for dinner,” she tells him, as he backs her up towards the bedroom with a predatory glint in his eye.

“Smells good,” he tells her, hands moving to encircle her waist, “but maybe we can start with pudding?”

He dips his head, capturing her lips with his own and kisses her slowly, yet the hand that moves to cradle the back of her head serves as a quiet reminder that he’s in control.

“Clothes off, Mrs. Lee”, he instructs quietly, pushing her gently back on to the bed.

Her breathing comes in quick, shallow pants of eagerness, as she works to unbutton her blouse with shaky fingers. 

Abraham watches her intently, his hands slowly unbuckling his belt as she bares herself to him. He makes quick work of the rest of his clothes once she’s completely undressed, and covers her body with his own, all lithe, lean muscle and tattoos.

“You gonna let me taste you?” He murmurs against the shell of her ear.

She shivers, her voice coming out in a whine. “Please, I’ve waited for you all day, I don’t need that, just want you.”

“So desperate,” he chuckles, dipping a hand between her legs.

She gasps as he swipes his fingers through her folds, collecting the arousal that’s gathered there.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re soaked.”

She lets out a quiet mewl in response, her body arching against his.

He smirks, gripping the base of his cock and sliding the head through her wetness, causing her to emit a needy sigh.

“Abe, please…”

He answers by sheathing himself fully inside of her in one fluid thrust, causing her to cry out.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he commands quietly, “wanna make sure I’m nice and deep.”

She does as she’s told, tipping her head back at the sensation of how far inside the change in angle pulls him.

Abraham grunts, pulling his hips back before slamming them forward once more. The pace he sets is relentless, fucking her into the mattress with urgency.

“Gonna fill you up,” he murmurs to her, “you look so fuckin’ good when you’re pregnant, love, can’t wait to see it again.”

She moans, walls fluttering around him at his filthy words, every drag of him inside of her pushes and pulls against a spot that has her toes curling and her voice raising an octave.

His brow furrows with exertion, full lips parted as he pants for breath, his grip on her thighs near bruising. He releases one of them, pressing his palm flat against her lower belly.

“Wanna make sure it goes all the way in here, love” he grits out, pace never faltering.

The combination of what he’s telling her and the way he uses her so forcefully nudges her closer to the edge and she tenses, feeling her peak begin to build inside of her.

Abraham’s gaze darkens as he senses this. “Nearly there, aren’t ya? Come on, give it to me.”

He slides the hand on her belly downwards, stopping when he reaches her pearl and circles pressured strokes against it with his thumb.

The added stimulus causes the already near unbearable pressure to build, until finally it reaches its boiling point, and she falls apart as waves of white hot pleasure roll through her body.

Abraham stills with a grunt, pushing himself as deep as he can possibly go, pulsating as he spills inside of her.

He collapses against her, breathless and sweaty, and she wraps her arms around him, breathing in the comforting scent of him.

“When’s Cora dropping the boys back off?” She asks quietly, after a few moments of satisfied silence.

“Not until tomorrow morning,” he says with a grin, “we’ve got all night.”

Nine months later, when little Esme is placed into her arms, she’s glad that they did.

[fan-goddess]

Chapter Four: A new kind of promise

Catch up on the fic here!

Authors Note: After weeks of heavy research into Romani weddings traditions, I decided to use a mix of traditional events and my own versions. The questions I’ve been trying to find answers for have come up with little to nothing, so I’m mixing it all up into my own thing. I am sorry if that’s offended people, but I genuinely can’t do much about it. I have tried asking for help, but nothing came through. I’ve used mainly Christian traditions, but am making it my own with as much limited information that I found online weaved in.

Chapter Summary: The wedding day is coming up quickly, and your little conversation with your hopefully soon to be husband has made you think of things more clearly than you before

Taglist: @valeskafics, @omgbrcat @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity @anjelicawrites @lexwolfhale @helaenaluvr @scarletbedlam @tssf-imagines @vhagar-balerion-meraxes @arcielee @targaryenbarbie @ilikechocolatemilkh @tumblin-theworldaway

Warnings: Talks of arranged marriage, literal marriage, most likely incorrect portrayal of a Romani wedding, she/her pronouns mentioned, (if I miss any let me know!)

The wedding is in two days, and the memory of Abrahams body against yours is still unrelenting and clear in your mind as ever. Sticking with you with the same ferocity as a stick of Ivy that’s grown on the side of a house.

Though it were his words that clung to you most adamantly. ‘Because while she may not even be here yet, I already somehow finding myself caring for her. Just as much as I find myself already loving you.’

“What’s got you in such a state my darling?” Your mother says, making you suddenly jump in pure fright as in your thoughts you’d forgotten she was even there in the first place.

You sigh. “Nothing mum. I was just… just thinking of the wedding.”

You’d hate to say anything to inflate her ego, but your mum has been nothing short of a saint, even with her small snide comments every so often. As while you’ve been so caught up on Abraham, she’s been caught up in the making of your wedding. Making sure everything is being set up rightly for the day, and making sure your dress will be made in good time. It seems her bossiness and her attitude is good for something other than nagging you.

She scoffs in disbelief at your answer, but to your relief she seems to let the comment slide. Focusing on making herself a cup of tea, reminding you of your own that whilst you were caught up in your thoughts, turned cold in your hands. Still, you sip at it diligently anyway. Attempting to use it as a very useless distraction that of course does little to help.

The stables are now a place you can’t go to anymore. Too fearful to be put face to face with your soon-to-be husband to go anywhere near that now haunted place. From what you’ve heard from the recent girl talk you’ve been listening too with pricked up ears whenever Abrahams been mentioned, he hasn’t been going there too much recently anyway. Choosing to go either there or mainly out in the woods. He still drops off the wood and the animal carcasses, only with the recent development of the two of yours’ relationship, he only places them at the step of the door, before knocking and leaving soon as he comes. As if he was never there in the first place.

You don’t blame him for acting like this. Especially with how you acted to him after he practically told you he loved you.

You hate yourself for it. As when he uttered those words, you froze. You mumbled incoherent words even to yourself, and ran away like an absolute fucking coward. You left him standing there in that stable, leaning against the wall after he said those personal things to you, and you feel absolutely awful for it.

Your parents had asked what had you in such a rush when you all but sprinted through the door, but you couldn’t dare tell them the reason. Instead, you yelled you needed the loo, and hid in the toilets for a few minutes and cried into your hands like an idiot.

The days that went by after that had all been eerily and dreadfully similar. His words had revealed something within you that made you so fearful of it all that you now cannot do anything but hate yourself, and pray to whatever man or thing that was in the sky that Abraham would still love you, even after what you had done.

To your surprise though, praying to whoever you could seemingly worked, as each night that passed resulted in another day until your wedding. When you’d become his wife and he’d become your husband. It would have been so exhilarating if the days before hadn’t been so awful and hateful.

The anxiety has been killing you, but putting that aside, the dress itself was absolutely beautiful.

It was white, a colour insisted by your mother even though there was a very high chance it’d be dyed a mixture of green and brown by the end of night, and reached around your mid calf. There was even delicate lace hand sewn by your mother. An act you could not dare to deny brought small tears to your eyes that were quickly dried away claiming hay fever, in fear it would somehow spoil the minimal makeup that had been insisted by the other ladies who’d helped you get ready.

Yet as you found yourself walking down the laid out path towards where your fiancé stands, you cannot deny that for once, you felt truly beautiful. That it felt thrilling almost to feel actually wanted and desired by a man who you would soon share your bed with.

Abraham doesn’t turn to look at you until you’re a few steps away. Yet when he does, your heart does somersaults as you see his mouth open slightly, and his eyes quickly move to look over you fully. His eyes widening slightly as he takes you all in, though you feel the need to almost snicker when you see they linger at times specially around your cleavage. An act he stops doing so quickly you could easily blink and miss it.

His reaction calms you though. As it shows he still cares for you in his own way. It shows that he still wants to be wish you. In his own way…

When you get to him, he nods his head in his own way of a greeting, and you nervously nod your own. Your lips already sore and swollen from how much you’ve been biting them in your anxiety the last couple days. Yet when Abrahams eyes trail to look at your lips, a whole new type of ache travels through you.

“May all who are here today sit now!” Pal shouts, his voice loud and asserting as everyone quickly moves to follow his orders. You and Abraham as well moving to face him as he looks at the both of you with a kind smile you cannot help but reciprocate.

“Abraham Lee, is here today to marry this fine woman from our own clan. Her parents are here today to witness the change of her transitioning from their daughter, to Abrahams wife. I understand that Abraham, instead of using typical money, has gifted one of his prized horse to the brides parents as payment. Does the brides parents feel this is a good payment for their daughter?”

You can’t turn back at the moment to look, but you can hear your father’s grunt as he lifts himself onto his feet, and how your mother fusses at him for him to be careful.

“Yes, me and my wife believe the horse that Abraham has provided our family with was a sufficient price to pay for our daughter. We are grateful to welcome him into our home, and are grateful he has taken such a shine to our only child.” Your father chokes, almost sounding on the verge of tears at the end of his words, before another round of grunts begins, signifying he’s finished and has sat back down on his chair again with a sigh.

Pal nods his head in a silent thanks to your parents, and turns to your right to look at Abraham eye to eye.

“Okay then. Now, Abraham Lee. Do you promise to take this romni under your protection? Do you vow to look after her, and be a good husband for her? To allow herself to be shielded by you forever, until the day you die?”

He doesn’t answer straight away, you yourself only hearing him let out a single deep breath, and you quite honestly feel yourself almost die on the spot fearing the worst has happened. That he has realised his mistake and that he’d put the wedding off there and then, shaming you for your actions.

Only whilst you’re worrying, he grunts and begins speaking, and you have to slowly let out the breath you were holding previously in thanks. “Yes, I vow to do all that and more for her.”

Then Pal turns to you, and suddenly you find yourself unable to breath once more. Who knew the whole ordeal would be so friggin stressful?

“Do you, a daughter of this clan and of the Roma, take Abraham Lee as your husband? Do you understand you will be under his protection, living in his home with him and being with him until his or your last breath? Do you vow to be a good wife to him, looking after him and caring for him back to full health whenever needed? Do you vow to guide him, when it is needed too? Do you vow to do all that and more for him, in exchange for his protection?”

Your breath is shaky as you hold it, and whilst it would be improper to do so, you want so badly to hold Abrahams hand firmly in your own and use his strength for some stability. Still, it is improper, and Abraham still has every right to shove you to the dirt and shame you.

“Yes, clan leader, I vow to do all that and more for him, as he is my husband now and forever more.” The extra words aren’t necessary, but it feels nice to do and makes you feel sort of giddy to see the small smile on Abrahams face in the corner of your eye. His body shifting from side to side as the next part of the ceremony begins.

“May the husband and wife hold each others hands.”

The two of you turn to each other, and you’re pleasantly surprised to see Abraham’s cheeks are an unfamiliar shade of pink. He almost appears bashful, but that would no doubt be an unfamiliar feeling of his.

Still, his hands move to clasp your own, and your thumb begins to rub small shapes on the back of his veiny hand. His own hands though clench slightly round yours, possibly as a warning. It probably wouldn’t be a good look for him or you if he was to begin glaring at you already, not even ten minutes into the ceremony.

“Do the two do you vow to look after each other, stay true to each other, and be good to each other for the rest of yours and theirs’ lives?”

This time, there is no real hesitation from either of you, as both you and Abraham almost manage to say ‘I will’, at the same time as each other.

Though after that, Pal smiles at the two of you, and motions for the bread to be brought out. Which when it gets handed to the two of them, it’s odd, as it’s almost like the both of you don’t want to release each others hands just yet, content in providing the other with a comforting warmth. Still, the both of you split hands anyways, and move to hold your own hands and kneel before Pal who continues to stand, to allow the rest of the ceremony to continue to take place.

“I bless the both of you with this bread, in the hopes it will symbolise the fruitful future the two of you will bring to each other.” You can feel the bread being placed on your knees, and for a slight second, your body recognises that familiar feeling of warmth and comfort as you feel Abraham’s hand on your leg for a quick moment grabbing one of the two chunks of bread. Pal hands him the salt, and he adds an almost amusing amount onto it, you yourself doing the exact same, only with much less.

Abraham brings the bread to your lips, and with a surprising amount of grace you manage to take the break into your mouth, eyes widening as the sudden taste of salt hits you. Your hand moving to cover your mouth as it takes a few seconds for you to be able to swallow. But after that small moment, which you could see brought a smile to Abraham’s face, you place your own piece of bread by his lips, and with much less care for his manners he fully leans forward and places his lips over your fingers, leaving spit to cover your fingertips as you let go of the bread and it falls directly on his waiting tongue.

Pal gives the two of you a minute to swallow, but neither you nor Abraham needs it. And instead, the two of you take the time to admire each other in your respective wedding outfits. Your own eyes focused on the way his body somehow manages to look so good in the clean yet somehow still Abraham looking suit, while his almost can’t seem to focus on one thing. His eyes constantly roaming your body as if he can’t get enough of you.

“Now that that’s been done, the bride and groom, if you can continue to face each other please! It’s time for the last bit of the vows part before we can move onto dancing, which I can say for all is what we’re definitely looking forward too! Or in my case, the booze!”

A small wave of laughter is heard from the guests, and even a small giggle from yourself is heard. A doing which brings a small, barely noticeable smile from the man in front of you.

“Finally, the newly vowed couple of the rom and romni needs to do one final thing. Abraham, my friend, it’s time for you to kiss your new bride!”

Your breath feels like it’s swept away from you as Abraham steps closer to you and takes your head in his hands, before pulling you closer. Your eyes close in delight and you feel yourself so close to letting out some sort of noise of pure happiness when his lips firmly press against your own.

Your heart feels like it’s about to beat from your chest as your hands grasp around Abrahams vest and somehow try to pull him closer to you. You can feel his body heat overwhelming you, and you almost let out something akin to a sad sound when he eventually pulls away from you. Yet that quickly gets forgotten when you see Abrahams red swollen lips up close. And when you find yourself able to tear your eyes away to look properly at him, you can see his own eyes and doing just the same. Unable to look away from your lips.

The both of you are so smitten that you almost don’t hear Pal announcing how it’s time for the celebration dance. Only broken from the trance when Pal places a hand gently against the both of yours’ shoulders and murmurs the instructions to the both of you, choosing to ignore the knowing smirk on his lips as the both of you are lead to where the rest of the nights festivities are being held.

It’s beautiful, for there are various lights that are hung up all around that brighten up the space wonderfully, and many other things that are dotted around that bring a deep sense of fondness deep in your heart. Soon though, music floods the air as you giggle amusingly at the sight of your mother and father dancing wildly as if there was no one else there. As if his injury was never there in the first place.

You look at Abraham, but to your delight you find he is already looking at you with a content smile on his face. It’s strange, to see the once hard working and duty driven man that is Abraham look so soft in your presence. But you must say, it certainly begins to grow on you almost annoyingly quickly.

“Do you, do you want to dance?” You stutter, scared he’d say no to your question. Only to your surprise, he doesn’t. Abraham murmurs his own version of an agreement, and takes your hand in his own, bringing a deep flush to your surprised face.

To your delight, he brings you to the very centre of the makeshift dancing area, and he holds you close to him as he begins to move you in time with his body. His hands clasped firmly against your waist and your hand, his face tucked next to yours.

“I didn’t get the chance to tell you earlier, but you look gorgeous…” Abraham murmurs, his breath tickling your ear sending shivers down your spine. “Made me forget about everything except the fact that you’re mine now. That you belong to me, and the fact that now…” He takes such a deep breath as he pauses that he almost causes the hair tucked behind your ear to fall loose. “That now I’m yours too.”

You can’t help yourself from grinning at his confession, nor can you dare think to stop yourself from kissing his cheek lightly. Showing your own silent appreciation for his words.

The two of you dance for a while. Content in each other arms. Dancing till you’re forced to confess how much your feet are aching in your shoes. Yet even when the two of you sit down, Abraham still keeps his firm hold on you, refusing to let go of your hand from his. The only time he actually let go being when he insisted on getting you some food to eat after the long day, glaring and seemingly harsh when he practically forbade you from standing and getting it for yourself. But as little as you really know your husband, you know he means the best in his words and his actions. As he had said earlier, he protects fiercely what he loves.

You’re so wrapped up in thoughts with a smile that you can’t help but flinch slightly when you feel a hand place itself on your shoulder, yet a brighter smile when you see you father looking down on you with his own tearful smile.

“The two of you looked happy together when you were dancing. I don’t think the poor boy wanted to let go of you!” He grins, sitting down next to you in an empty chair.

“I didn’t either!” You giggle, smiling so fondly you swear you can feel your cheeks begin to hurt.

“I’m glad. I’m so happy for you darling that you’re happy. You know, I just remembered the talking too I gave that boy before this...”

“Oh dad you didn’t!” You gasp with your hands over your mouth, a horrified look on your face as you think of all the worst things as possible that couldn’t happened between them.

“Oh you bet I did! I refused to allow this man one moment of thought that he could get away with hurting my little girl! I told him clearly and firmly, that if he hurt you in any way shape or form, that he’d have me and all the lads making sure he paid for it dearly!”

“Dad!” You groan, embarrassed and horrified as you laid you head in your hands, your cheeks no doubt a bright red right now from the shame.

“It’s true! I may have weak bones, but that doesn’t mean I can’t give him one for sure!” Your father insists, much to your utter horror. It gets even worse when another voice joins in the conversation…

“I agree sir!” Abraham speaks, two plates in his hands as he places one in front of you and one in front of himself as he sits in another empty chair to your left. When you look down to see what he’s gotten you, you’re quite delighted to see a lot of your favourite foods there waiting for you to eat them.

“Thank you.” You say to him, genuinely surprised and grateful for what he’s done for you just now.

“Don’t be,” He grunts, tucking into a sausage roll on his place. “I got your mother to help me. Didn’t want to get you anything you hated or were allergic too or something…”

You don’t respond, choosing what’s best to respond with is a small hum of agreement and nod, before placing your hand on his which lays on the table. You have to try and not let out an audible noise when Abraham seems to instinctively clench his fingers around yours and firmly hold you. Ever the possessive man it seems your husband will be.

Your father looks at the both of you fondly, and he gives you a small smile and a nod of his own before he leaves to most likely go to talk to your mother or some other person.

“Did you enjoy it. Today, I mean.” Abraham grunts again, pausing his movements to look at you so intently you feel your whole body flush.

“Yeah, I really did. Think it’s the best day of my life.” You smile, genuinely feeling almost euphoric seeing his bashful face that he tries to hide with his now free hand. Though to save his embarrassment you move to eat your own food with a smile, staring at the dance floor where Pal has somehow convinced your mother to dance with him, much to your amusement as you begin to giggle at the sight.

Soon though, the night comes to an end as the parents take the little kids home, and the adults who have no children have other adults take them home after getting absolutely shit faced drunk, much to Abrahams amusement who huffs a laugh at them.

Your parents come to the both of you and wish you well, as your belonging have apparently already been moved into Abrahams caravan so you could stay there tonight. And due to them knowing of Abrahams family situation, they wish him the best of luck too. Even giving him a hug which you swear leaves him looking brighter than earlier.

The two of you are the last people to leave the party, but a couple other members of the clan offer to help bring the presents people have given the both of you, which Abraham and you accept gratefully when you see the sheer size of a few of them. Though when you see some familiar wrapping you remember seeing in your mother’s wrapping box you can’t help but laugh slightly in reminiscence of it all.

Abraham and yourself make it to his caravan relatively quickly whilst being followed by those who’d offered to help. They came in and left rather quickly, putting the gifts on a countertop before leaving, saying their own little congratulations while they do. Leaving you and Abraham alone in the room to look at each other.

A strange sort of silence overwhelms you, and it’s with a small gasp you suddenly feel Abrahams hand on your cheek caressing your skin carefully and softly.

“I think, if it’s alright with you little, we continue what you left me with at the stables…”

[troublesomesnitch]

Abraham (Grantchester) x Reader

Inspired by Ewanmitchellcrumb's amazing Abraham fics, in particular this one.

Contents: smut. first kiss, making out, dry humping, handjob. Porn without plot (and porn without penetration).

Warnings: arranged marriage, oldfashioned gender roles and attitudes towards sex and marriage. Abraham being dickish (but he's trying to be nicer)

Words: 3600

Purity culture and dry humping, name a more iconic duo, i'll wait.

-

The rain is beating hard against the tin roof.

You are huddled up against the wall, your arms wrapped tightly around your legs to keep warm. You had gone out for an afternoon walk to find some peace and quiet, and maybe pick some of the first little spring flowers, when you were suddenly caught in a torrential downpour. Not too keen on the idea of sprinting all the way home, you scrambled to take shelter in the first place you could think of: a dilapidated shed at the edge of a muddy field. The old farmer used to store tools and machinery there, but now it stands abandoned and in disrepair, full of cobwebs and mouse droppings.

If one was alone it might be quite an unnerving place, located as it is right on the border of the woods.

But you are not alone.

Abraham is sitting right across from you, dressed in his usual plaid jacket and red neckerchief, his long legs stretched out on the floor. When you stumbled inside he was already there, having sought shelter from the rain himself.

You only narrowly managed to convince him to stay.

As a young, unmarried girl, you are not supposed to be alone with men. Not even with Abraham - especially not with Abraham. The two of you will be getting married in just over a month, but the rules of courtship are strict, and every minute you spend with him must be chaperoned. Something that he has, surprisingly, taken very seriously. Maybe because his first attempt at an engagement didn't exactly work out as planned.

Still, your parents are satisfied with the match, and for the most part, you are too. Abraham is quite handsome, you think, with those splendid blue eyes, and he's just a few years older than you. A little rough around the edges, but he doesn't mind hard work, and he is good with children and animals, and those are fine qualities in a man.

Sometimes, he lets you sit and watch while he cares for his horses; cleans their stalls and their hooves, brushes their coats, takes them out to the pasture for excercise. He speaks so calmly to them, firm voice when they disobey him and soft when they are skittish or scared, and there is something so endearing about it. You wonder if he will speak to you in the same way once you're married. Harsh when you disappoint him, but gentle when he lies on top of you at night. You'd like that, you think.

Right now, Abraham doesn't speak to you at all. It is not too out the ordinary, as he isn't particularly talkative in the first place, but you had hoped that being alone with you might loosen him up a little. Instead, it seems to have had the opposite effect, and for the past twenty minutes or so, he has occupied himself with throwing pebbles and broken bits of plaster at a glass jar on the floor.

Not the most riveting pastime - but it does give you an idea.

"How about we make a game of it" you suggest, when the silence has become so deafening you can hardly bear it. "Best of five. If you win, I'll bring you lunch tomorrow - anything you want."

"Yea?" Abraham hums, looking up and right at you, clearly intrigued.

"And If I win - " you pause, a deep scarlet blush creeping up your neck. "If I win, I want a kiss".

"No" he says, right away and with a stern expression, his mouth forming a thin line.

"Just one -"

"No" he repeats, but it's a little softer this time, and he gives you a cocky half-smile. "You'll get one soon enough, don't you worry about that".

"But I won't win" you try. "You know I won't. Or" - you eye him teasingly- "do you really think you might loose to a girl?"

It's the same argument you would use against your little brother, and when Abraham's face settles into something very offended, you can hardly believe it actually worked. But all boys are the same apparently, even when they're grown men. Always have something to prove to the world and themselves and each other.

"I win - " he grumbles, "you bring lunch every day, rest of the week. And your mum's cider."

It's Wednesday today. Four days isn't a lot, you can manage that. There's not much cider left, but Mum will understand, she'll be happy to know that you're taking good care of your soon-to-be husband.

"Alright then" you nod. "You go first."

The odds are against you, because Abraham has had plenty of time to practice already, something you forgot to consider when you issued the challenge. But you are determined put up a good fight, not only because you ache to know what kissing is like, but also because you want to know what Abraham is like. If he's rough or gentle. If he's a passionate lover, or someone who just wants you to lie still and be quiet when he performs his marital duties.

As expected, his first stone goes straight into the glass; yours unfortunately bounces off the side of it. But then Abraham narrowly misses his second one, while yours actually hits the intended target. It gives you at least a glimmer of hope.

And then, something happens. Something very strange.

Abraham picks a rather large stone, but he overshoots by just a little and it lands on the dusty floor.

And the next one does too. And the one after that.

It must be on purpose, it must be. But his face betrays nothing at all, only the same disgruntled expression he always wears, and soon there's only one pebble left. Your very last one, and it lands in the glass with a loud plink.

"I won" you state, in complete disbelief, and the corners of Abraham's mouth twitch up a little.

"Looks like it, yea"

You eye him with suspicion. "But you hit - you got four in a row just before we started -".

"Beginner's luck" he shrugs, rising to his feet and brushing his hands on his trousers. When you hesitate, he cocks his head. "C'mere".

You do not need to be told twice, instantly flitting to his side and tilting up your face like you've seen ladies do in the movies. Abraham breathes deeply, and he places his hands on your waist to pull you closer. He smells nice, like fresh rain and firewood and a little bit like damp wool. You close your eyes.

"You ever kissed a man before?" he murmurs, so close that you can feel his warm breath fanning over your face.

You shake your head - of course you haven't.

There's no response to that, only calloused hands touching your face, Abraham's nose brushing your temple. He bends his head, and when he presses his lips to yours, you are not prepared for how soft they are, and how warm, and how gentle. His mouth opens slightly, his tongue slipping just past your lips, and then he releases your face and pulls back.

"There" he mutters, but you are not ready to part from him yet. Your hands cling to his jacket and your eyes are heavy and hooded when they flutter open.

"Again" you breathe.

He shouldn't, he really shouldn't, you are absolutely not allowed to do such things before the wedding. But Abraham is a young man, and since your engagement was officially agreed upon, he has surprisingly managed to stay out of trouble - mostly, at least - and away from neglected young housewives and the reverend's shapely daughters. It has been... a while since he last touched a girl, and you are the prettiest little thing, with your wet, parted lips and your hair frizzed from the rain. How could he possibly resist when you're looking up at him like that, begging for more?

Your first kiss was sweet and demure, but this time, Abraham wraps both arms around your waist and runs his hands up your back. He nibbles at your lower lip before he slides his tongue into your mouth, deeper this time, so he can brush it against your own. When you mewl it goes straight to his crotch, and he deepens the kiss, tilting your head to the side with a finger under your chin.

You mustn't, you shouldn't, you can't, but your body is burning with want, and you think Abraham's must be too. He's holding you closer, letting his hands wander over your body, your hips, your waist, the small of your back. They move to squeeze your bottom, and when he pushes his hips forward, there's something hard poking at your stomach.

It sends a jolt of excitement down your spine.

In theory, you know what a man looks like under his clothes. The men work outside in the summer, and many take off their shirts and roll up the legs of their trousers in the heat. But you have never seen a man fully naked, and you have never felt a man's body pressed up against you like this. Abraham's chest is hard, and his shoulders are broad, and his arms feel so strong when they're wrapped around you. He moves to kiss just below your ear, and you take the opportunity to let your hands roam tentatively over his chest and his stomach, even reaching under his jacket to feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt.

It's nice, but it isn't enough to satisfy your curiosity. You want to touch him there.

Abraham breaks the kiss when he feels your hand inching towards his crotch, but he doesn't stop you. Just looks at you stunned, with darkened eyes and a slight flush across his handsome nose. His... his - cock is straining in his pants, and you brush your fingers over the bulge, feeling how he hardens even more at your touch. It is clumsy and inexperienced, but Abraham still closes his eyes, and his hand comes down to cover yours and press it harder against him.

It feels good for him, despite your lack of practice; you can tell. You cup his crotch, and he lets out a sharp breath and bucks right into your palm. You tilt your face up again to kiss along his jaw as you rub him through his trousers, feeling how he swells and throbs from your touch, until he suddenly swats your hand away.

You worry that you have overstepped, or done something that hurt him, but he leans over you, and tugs at your hips - to pull you down with him, you realise. Right down to the floor, although he is at least gallant enough to shrug of his jacket and lay you on that, rather than directly on the ground.

Immediately, he starts on the buttons of your coat, almost ripping the garment open to part it from your chest. His hands greedily palm your breasts, covered only by your dress and the brassiere underneath, and he squeezes your flesh; pinches your nipples through the fabric and rolls them under his thumbs. They stiffen from his touch and he leans over you and brushes his mouth against your chest, even latching onto one pert nipple, sucking and biting until your dress is wet from his spit.

It makes you whine with both pleasure and pain, and surprise too. You have never been touched like this before, never felt wanted like this before. Abraham's eyes are dark with lust, and it is almost frightening how determined he looks when he hooks a hand under each of your knees to push them apart.

You gasp when he lays over you. His body is warm, and heavy, and it feels so right to lie like this underneath him, caged in by his arms and with your thighs spread wide around his hips. His cock is big and hard and he presses the thick bulge between your legs, and grunts softly at the feeling. You can't help but wonder how many girls have been underneath him before, because he's so unabashed in the way he pushes his hips against yours, so eager when he starts rocking back and forth, clearly mimicking... other things.

Your hands cling to his shirt and you arch up to kiss him again, sighing when catches your lip between his teeth. They don't kiss like this in the movies. At least not in the ones you have seen. Your mouth is wide open, and Abraham is absolutely devouring it, licking your lips, shoving his tongue all the way to the back of your throat. It is rough and needy, and there's a trail of spit between you when he pulls back to catch his breath.

If someone found out, you'd be in so much trouble. Abraham is on you, and his cock is stiff, and he is moving so intimately against you, but you can't bring yourself to stop him. It feels wonderful, having his weight on top of you, having his hard cock pressed against your center. His bulge is big and hard and heavy between your thighs, and he's groaning as he rubs it against you, rolling his hips steadily, rhythmically. As though he was really inside you, and you are not sure if it's on purpose or pure instinct, or maybe a bit of both.

It has you swooning, just thinking about it. How badly he must want you, how needy he must feel, his cock all hard and swollen and his balls so full of his - his come. The thought of it makes you sigh, makes you feel soaking wet, makes that tingling warmth spread even faster in your loins. There are so many things are happening in your body; the kissing, the rubbing, the pressure between your legs - God you've never felt anything like it. You squirm underneath him and spread your thighs wider.

it makes Abraham groan, your hands on his chest and the way your hips are bucking and circling against his cock, and fuck he'll go crazy if you keep making those noises, those soft little whimpers. His cock is pulsing and his balls are pulled tight, and seeing your face all twisted with pleasure has him leaking already.

Truthfully, it was Pal's idea that he should pursue you, just like it was Pal who first spoke to your father on his behalf - but as you are a sweet and pretty girl, Abraham could see no reason why he shouldn't go along with it. He is a grown man, and a grown man needs a wife, and he likes looking at your legs when you help your mother with the laundry. Especially when you wear that grey dress that is a little too tight around your hips. Once you're married he will buy you a brand new one, and a nice pair of shoes with a little heel, and you'll be such a pretty little wife, cooking his meals and washing his clothes and giving him kisses when he comes home.

He moves faster, pressing his hard bulge even tighter against you, and you can feel something building in your body, though you are only barely aware of what it is. Your muscles are tightening and tensing up, desperate for a release that you instinctively know how to find, and you arch your hips up and rub frantically against Abraham's cock. You need more, more friction, more pressure just there, and you hook a leg over his back so you can push up better. Abraham lets you chase your peak, even helps you along by sliding his hand underneath your bottom to press you tighter against him. He is utterly mesmerised by the sight, your blissful expression as you shamelessly use his body for your own pleasure, sighing and whimpering and grinding your little cunt so desperately against him.

When he kisses you again, all the tension breaks.

You gasp, and Abraham watches you intently as a series of tiny little shivers run through your body. A very gentle climax - your first, by the looks of it. You writhe and moan beneath him, and when the waves of your orgasm settle, you are all blushed and looking up at him with glazed, love-struck eyes.

He could probably coax you into sleeping with him right now if he wanted to, but in a - frankly rare - moment of chivalry, he decides against it. You're a sweet girl, saving yourself for marriage and all. Your first time should be somewhere nicer than in this cold, filthy shed.

One way or another though, he will make you finish him off properly, and he sits back on his heels and quickly unbuckles his belt. Abraham's cock is impressive in size, and he is very proud of it; always enjoys the look of amazement on a girl's face when he frees it from his trousers.

You look equal parts intrigued and horrified. It is much bigger than you had anticipated, long, pink and bulbous at the tip, and he boldly gives it a few quick tugs as you watch. Even in his hand it looks massive, and you wonder how on earth it'll ever fit inside you, but that is an issue for another day, because Abraham mutters here and reaches for your hand. Your fingers wrap cautiously around his shaft, and it is hard, stiff, and yet so soft at the same time. You have no idea what to do, but Abraham's hand closes over yours, guiding the strength of your grip and the pace of your strokes.

It turns out that pleasing a man is not difficult at all. All you have to do is move your hand up and down, dragging the skin over the tip of his cock and back down again in a quick and firm rhythm. Abraham dips his head into the crook of your neck, and his hands come up to fondle your breasts, his teeth gritted and his eyes squeezed shut. You quickly grow more comfortable with the motion, and you slip your other hand between his legs to fondle his balls too - carefully, as you know that is a very delicate area for a man. They feel big, and hairy, and heavy in your hand, and he moans when you squeeze them lightly, trying your best to massage them in a way that gives him pleasure.

It would seem that you succeed, because it isn't long before Abraham's body tenses and his balls tighten right in your grip.

" - gonna come" he grunts, and you can't help but hold your breath in anticipation.

Abraham groans, and his cock pulses in your hand, and then his semen starts spurting from the tip. There's so much of it, spilling all over your fingers in thick, sticky ropes, and you keep stroking him through his peak, taking in his ragged breaths, the shallow jerks of his hips, the deep furrow of his brow. It is the loveliest thing you've ever laid eyes on, and when he stills your hand and collapses next to you on the floor, your chest swells with pride. You made him do that.

"Fuck" he pants. There's a lock of hair sticking to his forehead, and you are dying to reach over and gently brush it back, but you are too shy to be so familiar.

"Was it good?" you ask instead, hoping for praise or maybe a nice compliment, but Abraham just gives a hoarse laugh as he tucks his cock back into his trousers. You look away. Despite what you did just a moment ago, looking at it now feels terribly indecent.

Outside, the rain has stopped, the wind has died down, and it is high time for you to return home. You wipe your hand clean with a handkerchief - you can rinse it in the stream on the way back - and turn away from him as you smooth out your skirt and button your coat.

"What do you want" Abraham asks suddenly. "For your wedding gift. What do you want?"

Immediately, you start going through all the lists in your head - there are a hundred things to consider when setting up a new household, clothes and dishware and furnishing, and the little hope chest under your bed is already filled to the brim.

"Well-" you begin, "I'll get linens from my mother, and you already have the stove sorted, and Cora said we could have her old cast iron skillet, but we should probably start saving for a -"

"No" he interrupts, impatiently. "Forget all that, what do you want from me"

He looks sheepish and uncomfortable and it takes you a moment to realise that he is trying to be attentive - maybe even romantic.

It makes you want to throw your arms around his neck.

"I don't know" you mutter, blushing all over again. "I haven't thought about it - you don't have to give me anything"

"I'll get you something. Something pretty, yea?" he grins, wide enough that his cheeks crease and dimple - God, he's awfully charming sometimes, when he wants to be.

You blush even deeper, picking at your nails and responding with an awkward yes, yeah alright.

Abraham doesn't say anything after that, already back to his usual sullen demeanor - but right before the door closes behind you, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you back to kiss you right on the mouth.

You make your way back home, warm all over from the kiss and the excitement and the lingering heat in your core. And maybe a little bit just from the very thought of Abraham himself.

I have never posted fics to tumblr before, please let me know if there's anything wrong with it!

[witchofthevale]

↷ september '23 fave fic recs!⋆☂｡☽˚.

Okay, okay here we go! This nearly killed me to make, so you better read them.

I'm kidding... I think.

Gentle reminder that what I consider 'fave' is by my own personal tastes and preferences, and you might not agree with them and that's okay! These are very lovely authors you can peruse on your own to find the right fic for you, and there are always the tags + algo. Just because your favourite fic isn't here doesn't mean it's not good; it could be potentially for a variety of reasons (I haven't read it yet, I have just not this month, I don't vibe with that character, etc).

That's what I love about the individuality in fandom and writers— there will always be that right fic from that right author that just hits all your good spots.

This is mine. For the month of September. If you find your next favourite fix here— I'm glad! If not, that's still swell! Hope you find it!

To the writers— thank you for writing such brilliant fics! I struggled setting this up because of how many I enjoyed 💝.

Anyways...

More quick reminders!

This is set chronologically; both by character name and by fic title.

If you are familiar with my blog, you will mainly see HOTD, some TLK, then random characters.

There may be smut! There may be dark fiction! I support and consume both! Please read trigger warnings actively! You are responsible for your own person! Community Labels ruin fandom ecosystems, stop snitching! Ignore or block at bloody will!

There are no series parts here. That is in a different display post that is still being processed lol.

If you see repeated author names, it can be numerous things— mostly, they're just that good, okay? Okay.

These are only for September 2023. I've read about 500+ on this account alone, and would die if I tried to go back before then, sorry. You can still check them out through tag navigation here!

I've also added some of my works that I enjoyed writing for the month, because why not.

Now that's fucking over, I hope you enjoy!

ABRAHAM (Grantchester)

*Untitled Piece by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

AEGON TARGARYEN II

Ceilings by @sapphire-writes

Lemon Cake To My Tea by @darlingofvalyria

Merciless or Ruthless? by @lovelykhaleesiii

Moan for Me by @st-eve-barnes

AEMOND TARGARYEN

A Mutual Feeling of Hate by @fan-goddess

Gelato by @oneeyedvisenya

Hell Hath No Fury @fromforeigntofamiliarity

His Love by @valeskafics

I'm A Fire, And I'll Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm by @randomdragonfires

Revolution by @valeskafics

The Black Stag by @darlingofvalyria

Til Death Do Us Part by @asumofwords

Unnerved by @dulcewrites

*Untitled by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

*Untitled by @missglaskin

Vulnerability by @valeskafics

ALDHELM

My Heart by @silens-oro

BILLY TAYLOR

The Perfect Send Off by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

BILLY WASHINGTON

Lonely This Christmas by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

DAEMON TARGARYEN

Ask, and You Shall Receive by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

A Thousand Words by @arabellasleopardcoat

Capital by @arabellasleopardcoat

Curse of Womanhood by @just-some-random-blogger

*Untitled by @barbiedragon

Valyrian Bride by @cryingforlife

HARALD SIGURDSSON

A Political Arrangement by @valeskafics

JACAERYS VELARYON

In Bastards of Blue, Wager in War by @darlingofvalyria

MAEGOR TARGARYEN

Little Lights by @dreamsofoldvalyria

OSFERTH

Lacnunga, Or, Remedy by @assortedseaglass

SIGTRYGGR IVARSSON

Little Warrior by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

SIHTRIC KJARTANSSON

Hours by @valeskafics

It's Urgent Darling by @sihtricfedaraaahvicius

Take No Wife by @valeskafics

TOM BENNETT

A Good Wife by @valeskafics

Rest by @fidelias

VISERYS TARGARYEN III

*Untitled by @barbiedragon

MULTIPLE CHARACTERS

Conquerors Reborn by @undertheorangetree | Helaena, Aemond x Reader

El Tango De Roxanne by @valeskafics | Jace, Aemond x Reader

Royalty Fucked by @oorhaellaoo | Baelon, Alyssa x Reader

[thought--bubble]

Abraham (Grantchester)

Headers & Dividers by: @arcielee

All the things You Promised (Abraham X Best Friend Reader)

Guide:

Smut-💫

Dark-☠️

Fluff-💞

Angst- 😈

To be added to taglist click HERE

[writingwife-83]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag @bg-sparrow this looks like fun! ☺️

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

260 (and rapidly going up, because there’s a bunch more one shots that are currently still in a multi-chapter and I’m working on posting them individually)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,528,192 😵‍💫

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly BBC Sherlock and Star Wars. But I’ve also written a fic for The Hunger Games, Loki show, Grantchester, Miss Scarlet and the Duke, and Wonder Woman.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

(I’m not gonna include the fic that technically comes in 4th place because that’s the multi-chapter of one shots which will eventually be deleted completely from AO3 once all the one shots have their own post)

I Told You So (sherlolly)

Alliance (reylo)

Half Agony, Half Hope (sherlolly)

Zephyr (sherlolly)

For Science (sherlolly)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely! There was only one time in my life that I said I couldn’t routinely do that, and that was at the height of popularity for I Told You So. I was posting it on AO3 and ffnet, and also posting the links on here, and I was getting feedback on all three platforms. Which was amazing! But it meant it was a bit much to keep up with. Other than that, I feel commenters deserve a response since they’re giving us writers the thing we want most. ❤️

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

For reylo probably I’m Ready to be Heartbroken and for sherlolly I think it’s a tie between You’re Dying and Congratulations, By The Way.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I truly couldn’t say because I’ve written sooo many with happy endings that Idk what would be happiest 😆

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I’ve gotten the very occasional slightly rude comment over the years, but not what I’d consider hate.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I never have and I don’t plan to. It’s just not something I want to do. And besides I think there’s always more than enough of that for those who want it. If anything, what tends to be lacking is a large selection of fics without that type of content.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Only think I’ve ever done is a Star Wars AU one shot for sherlolly called Balance.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, and I don’t know if I’d even want to know because that would be such a huge amount of stress and I’d probably be very limited in what I could do about it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I’m honored to say that I have! There might be one for I Told You So on ffnet… I can’t remember. But definitely on AO3 there’s a Russian translation of Zephyr and a Chinese translation of For Science

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, indeed! I’ve co-written two fics with @thisisartbylexie. Alliance for reylo, and Half Agony, Half Hope for sherlolly. Coincidence that those are also in my top 5 kudos? I think not.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

That’s super hard but if for no other reason than the duration of my creating, I guess I’d have to say sherlolly.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I don’t think I have an answer for this because the 2 WIP I have at the moment are ones I am definitely in the process of finishing.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think dialogue and internal descriptions for the character. And I guess describing things in a way that help the reader easily hear/see the scene in their mind, since that’s a comment I’ve gotten many times over the years.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action and mystery. Ironic, given my fandoms lol. I am always so uncomfortable describing action scenes or situations where there’s a lot going on and it’s fast paced. And I absolutely would struggle if I had to come up with a mystery plot line!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

What an interesting question! I’m trying to think if I’ve ever even done this in a fic. 🤔 But I think it’s a great thing to include if the plot calls for it! If I did I’d ideally want to check with someone who is fluent in that language just to make sure I’m not being inaccurate.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

BBC Sherlock (for sherlolly) going on 10 years ago 🥹

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

I genuinely don’t think I can choose. Sometimes I try to when I get this question, but it really is a toss up between a few fics. There’s not one particular one that stands out from the others so much that I’d call it my favorite. But some of my faves are definitely in that list of my top kudos fics that I listed in question 4.

I’ll tag @musicprincess1990 @englandsgray @love-yellow-door @strawberrypatty and whoever else sees this post and feels like participating!

[the-toad-in-your-piano]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged in this by the darling @once-in-a-blue-moon-rising. What a perfect break from my desperate scrambling to finish NaNoWriMo (haha).

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

61!

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

400,820. Blue included an average per work, so I'm going to shamelessly steal that idea--- comes out to a little over 6,500 per work.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Sherlock, principally. I have written a touch of Grantchester (more unpublished than published, solely because I keep forgetting to finish them), one Hotel Portofino fic, and a Downton Abbey/Sherlock crossover. I keep meaning to write more for Downton, but I can never find the time!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

All five of my tops are Mystrade, of course!

Our Love Keeps the Things It Finds - I will shamelessly admit that I am very proud of this one. It's 25k words of soulmate-tattoo fic featuring a heavily tattooed Mycroft, which I always found a rather interesting (and enchanting) idea.

Crimson Blaze - My longest fic by far at 123k words. It has a little of everything--- some Mycroft whump, disguises, awkward friends with benefits, and badass Anthea.

Flowers - On a silly little whim, I wrote a funny thing about Greg's teenage daughter meeting Mycroft for the first time. It ended up being surprisingly well-liked and I've since written a few other pieces featuring her. It's about 5k words.

Of Blue Suits and Brollies - I find it hilarious that this is in my top 5. My very first PWP I ever wrote. It's only about 4k words.

No Fear of Shadows - I am still surprised that this one was so popular. I wrote it while in a rather soppy mood because I thought it would be funny. It's 6k words about Mycroft introducing Greg to some of his colleagues at a fancy work function.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do! Not quickly, though. I try my very, very hardest to get to all of them, but it doesn't always happen in a timely manner.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I've got two from my Febuwhump series that I think tie for it. Stay Awake, Beautiful wins angstiest just in terms of stress-- the actual ending is ambiguous, but I find it stressful just to read. All Lives End, of course, begins with a death and deals with the fallout. That one's pretty rough.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Right after finishing Flufftober is an awkward time for this question, because I now have twenty-something separate fics with stupidly happy endings. But I think the title goes to Forevermore.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I'm very lucky to say I don't!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, though it's not the majority of my work. I have only a couple of PWPs and two or three longer works with smutty elements. And my current NaNoWriMo project is turning out FAR smuttier than I had originally intended. Oops.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Just one! The only one I've done is the Downton Abbey/Johnlock crossover (Love and the Hunter) for Fandom Trumps Hate. It was loads of fun.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so! I've done a bit of detective-ing to trace others' stolen works, so I occasionally check up on mine just in case. Thankfully, I'm in a niche enough corner of the fandom that no one seems to want to bother me :)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I beta for one! It's a fabulous OCxCanon work for My Hero Academia that I will shamelessly plug at all times. The Stray.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Mystrade <3

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I've not posted it, but I've got a few thousand words of a Mystrade Hollywood Golden Age AU that I don't think I'll ever complete. I'm okay with that; some things are meant to remain daydreams.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I can be funny, sometimes. I think I'm alright at building moods for whatever I'm trying to achieve.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Oh, I'm very chatty. I can unnecessarily wax on and on for thousands and thousands of words. I find dialogue a bit of struggle too, sometimes, since my instinct is always to spell out every detail when there's often lots that can go unsaid.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't really do it; I'm not confident enough in another language to trust it. I have done it, though, but just once. I think. It was a line from La Bohème for Our Love Keeps the Things It Finds and I think it was only said in the original Italian once.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter, at the tender age of ten or so. Written by flashlight in the backs of my notebooks.

20. Favourite fic you've written?

Oh, gosh, this question is so hard!! I've written quite a lot that I just adore. The title is shared, I think, between That Breathless Charm and Look After You for being things I reread for my own comfort, haha.

This was such fun to fill out! Open tag here-- if you fill it out, please tag me! I'd love to read it :)

[kivrin]

AO3 Tag Game

Tagged by @jomiddlemarch  and @oldshrewsburyian

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

73

2. What is your total Ao3 word count?

155286, but that includes an 18K co-written (unfinished) series and several shorter co-written works.

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Buffy the Vampire Slayer & spinoff is the biggest with 41 stories (though a lot of those are 100-word drabbles.) Next, Foyle’s War with about 20, Grantchester with 7 (many co-written) and then a few one-offs from Good Omens (co-written), Firefly, and The Bletchley Circle.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

- Clerical Work (The Bletchley Circle) the runaway winner with 216, followed by Burn Brighter Through the Cold (Foyle’s War) with 100, A Good Style (Good Omens, cowritten with @crowgirl42) with 91, Therapy (Buffyverse) with 72, and Home, Rejoicing (Foyle’s War) with 68.

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes, because I loooove getting them and want to encourage it!

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Probably Close Your Eyes and I’ll Keep You Safe (Buffyverse) for non-canonical character death.

7. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written?

Occasionally. I’ve brainstormed several that haven’t made it to pixels. This question did make me dig out a Buffy/West Wing fragment I wrote in an LJ comment back in the proverbial day and post it on Tumblr so that’s fun.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nope. Mildly scolded on Fanfiction.net for... I guess... labeling Burn Brighter as romance despite including Andrew’s canonical infidelity.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

From time to time. Mostly I prefer fade-to-black.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

11. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! Most recently with @feministlibrarian and @crowgirl42 in Grantchester

12. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Statistically, Rupert Giles/Wesley Wyndham Price (Buffyverse).

13. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Based on my meticulously-kept baby book, a synoptic gospels/Neighborhood of Make Believe/ Disney’s Snow White crossover oral saga.

14. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

My top 5:  Burn Brighter and Clerical Work (which are on the top-5 kudos list), The Wild Iris (Buffyverse), When They Take You In (Buffyverse), and Home, Rejoicing (Foyle’s War).

[desperatelyseekingroleplay]

Hi there! I have been RPing with the same person for about 12 years but unfortunately, our schedules have recently changed. The transition has not been an easy one…. I am in search of a new partner. Here are some things that I am into (bear with me, I have never really thought about this before…. ^_^)

OCs: modern hospital setting, Victorian hospital setting, one night stands, friends that turn into more (modern setting or historical), medieval, 1950s, Westerns, Gothic horror, war (Revolutionary War - WWII), celebrities, bands/musicians

Some fandoms: Sherlock (BBC), Chicago Fire, Chicago Med, Disney (Beauty and the Beast, Tangled, Frozen, etc), Criminal Minds, Grantchester, Marvel/DC (mostly cinematic universe - Avengers, Spiderman, Batman), POTC, Harry Potter (usually with an OC), Walking Dead, and more…

About me: Female, 30 yrs old. My occupation is nursing. I am in -6:00 US Central Time and I’m usually on at night between 9:30 pm and 2:00 am. RP is a fun release for me and allows me to geek out! I do not care if my partner is male or female. I have no problem playing males. I would prefer my partner to be around my age though. I usually play in third person.

Likes: hurt/comfort, romance, fluff, smut, cheating, first times/defloration, pregnancy, impregnation, damsels in distress, het, and more. OOC chat would be fun too!

Dislikes: age gaps (older female x younger male), M/M, F/F, punishment, mpreg, video games, anime, RP over e-mail, 1000+ word posts (I range from 200-400, 2-3 paragraphs. I want to actively post back and forth. I don’t want to wait 20 minutes for a post, sorry! ^^)

Platforms: I grew up playing on AOL, AIM, and Yahoo IM. Since Yahoo crapped out, I have been using Skype… please e-mail me first though. penguinguitar4@gmail.com…..Thanks! *Fingers crossed* x.x

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Here’s a request for Abraham as I only just found out who he is and I already would let him spit on me. He’s in the pub where he sees a girl with big boobs and a cheeky grin, he follows her out. Maybe she leads him to the stables? And he fucks her good and hard against the hay. However, just as he’s about to pull his pants up. He falls on the ground due to reader and she rides him like a pony. Maybe some dirty talk and against the hay he chokes her but while she’s riding him she chokes him. You decide how to interpret this and where it goes from there. Hope you have fun writing!

Hello! First off I'd like to thank you for your patience - I'm sorry it's taken me over two months to fulfil this request, I am slow and I have a lot to work through. Secondly, this request is absolutely bonkers, but I've done my best to fulfil it in my own style. I hope that you enjoy it.

Warnings: Infidelity, choking, fingering, smut. Word count: ~2.6k

It’s a bright and sunny July afternoon on Grantchester Village Green. The sounds of a brass band playing and children’s laughter float on the breeze, yet she is bored. It’s the Village’s annual church fête and every Grantchester resident has turned up to take part and lend a hand. Mr. Ruskin has lent a donkey from his farm to give rides to the children, there’s a tombola offering up various prizes of assorted chocolates and cuddly toys, and games of boules and cornholing have been laid out across the Green, under reams of brightly coloured bunting. She feels like she could scream from the civility of it all.

“Fetch you some more squash?” Robbie asks with a soft smile, gesturing towards her with his empty paper cup.

“No. I’m alright, thanks, love.” She replies, stiffening uncomfortably as he places a chaste kiss to her cheek before heading off in the direction of the refreshment stand.

It’s all so bland. She can’t stomach another cup of tea, another orange squash, another egg and cress sandwich. Worst of all, she’s not sure how much more of Robbie she can stand. They have been courting for almost a year - the perfect match in every sense - he is the Vicar’s son, polite, gentle, and inoffensive. She is the daughter of the head of the Village committee; pretty, well mannered and kind.

Truthfully, she finds Robbie painfully dull. He isn’t bad looking and doesn’t treat her unkindly, he is just unambitious and set in his ways. She had agreed to go steady with him because it was what was expected of her. He’d taken her by surprise when he’d expressed the desire to sleep with her three months into their relationship, and for the first time in all the years they’d known each other she’d actually found herself excited by him. That was until they did the deed and he’d rutted atop her with all the enthusiasm of a captain going down with his ship.

She’s heard the murmurs around the Village, the rumours that he plans to propose. Robbie hasn’t exactly been subtle about it either, the way he gawks in the window of the jewellers makes dread sink in her stomach like a stone, not just at the idea of him asking her to marry him, but the fact that she knows she’ll say yes. It’s what her father wants for her, and living somewhere so small, where everyone knows everyone and all their business, she doesn’t want the reputation of the girl that broke a good Christian boy’s heart.

A future as Mrs. Robert Chambers, wife of the vicar’s son, Village postmistress, daughter of the head of the Village committee. Boring, boring, boring.

Life in Grantchester had suddenly become more interesting when he had rolled into the village; part of the Romani settlement that had taken refuge in one of Mr. Ruskin’s fields. The locals had treated them with suspicion and hostility, such was the attitude to newcomers, especially travellers. However, something about him intrigued her; his slicked back hair, dazzling blue eyes and cocky smirk made her heart race, worsened by the fact that whenever she’d seen him around he always managed to catch her eye and send her reeling with a wink. 

She’d never dared to speak to him, yet she feels her breath hitch as she notices him and five of the other Romani men approaching the Green.

“Here comes trouble.” She hears her father sigh as he steps forward to approach them.

She gently grabs his arm. “Dad, leave it,” She pleads. “They haven’t done anything.”

“Not yet anyway.” Robbie says as he returns from the refreshment stand with a refilled drink.

“They’ve as much right to be here as anyone else.” She fires back, watching as the group sit themselves on nearby picnic benches.

“I’d like to see what sort of contribution they’ve made to the Church or Village.” Her father mutters darkly.

As if on cue, the eldest of the group stands from the picnic bench and walks over to Mr. Chambers, depositing a handful of coins into the money box he holds. 

“There’s fifty pence from each of us there.” He tells the Vicar.

“Very generous of you, thank you.” Mr. Chambers responds with a bow of his head.

“See?” She says to her father. “Just leave them.”

As the afternoon progresses, the group is rowdier than anyone else at the fête. The sounds of their jeering and raucous laughing drowns out the tuba and trumpets of the band, earning them glares from everyone else in attendance. However, they keep to themselves, doing nothing more scandalous than using the picnic benches to arm wrestle one another.

She’s taking a walk around by herself, watching a group of children toss bean bags at each other with squeals and shrieks when she spots him, leaning against an outbuilding and swigging from a labeless brown glass bottle.

He winks at her when he sees her and she feels her cheeks heat up.

“Having fun?” He asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Not really.” She says with a soft laugh.

“Tea and sarnies not your thing then?” He smirks at her and it sets off a fluttering in her lower belly.

“I can’t imagine it’s yours either.” She says with a shrug. “What’s your lot doing here?”

He sniffs, taking another swig from his bottle and offering it to her. Tentatively she takes it from him, a shiver running through her as their fingers brush for the briefest of moments.

“We’re moving on tomorrow. Figured we’d come pay our respects before we push off.”

She is unable to mask her disappointment at this revelation, her eyes widening as her heart sinks. “Tomorrow?! You’re leaving..?”

He leans in, his blue eyes locking with hers. “You gonna miss us?”

She takes a long drink from the bottle in order to avoid having to answer the question, spluttering around the acrid burn of the liquid in her throat.

He chuckles, taking it back from her as she coughs and wipes her mouth. “Pal’s home brew. Put hairs on your chest, that will.”

She whips around when she hears Robbie calling out for her.

“Go on then, run back to your little boyfriend.” She has to suppress a gasp as she feels the hotness of his breath against the shell of her ear, how closely he’s moved behind her in order to lean down and whisper to her.

She swallows thickly, walking away before turning back to him. “I didn’t catch your name…”

“Abraham.” He tells her, with a mock two fingered salute.

“Nice to meet you, Abraham. I’m-”

“-oh I know who you are. Seen you around.” He interrupts, eyes roving over her form appreciatively.

She bites her lip, feeling the heat return to her cheeks and turns back to rejoin Robbie and her father.

The next hour passes uneventfully, until she hears raised voices coming from the area where the donkey rides are being given. Curious, she moves closer to see what’s happening. She’s surprised when she sees Abraham squaring up to Mr. Ruskin.

“It’s my animal, I think I know best how to look after it.” The farmer says angrily.

“And all I’m saying is that if you’re gonna have the poor fucker carting kids back and forth all day, the least you can do is give it a drink!” Abraham spits back.

The two men stare each other down, until eventually Abraham turns around and walks away. She thinks he has left and is bitterly dismayed that she hasn’t had the opportunity to speak to him more, when fifteen minutes later he turns with a bucket of water, setting it down near the donkey’s hay bales.

Mr. Ruskin grumbles at this, telling Abraham to clear off, but makes no moves to take the water away. She smiles at this, she knows nothing about this mysterious man, yet it’s endearing to see how he cares for animals.

She doesn’t see him again for the rest of the day and it’s only as things start to get packed down for the evening that she realises his group has left. The bucket remains where Abraham left it and she decides she’ll return it to him, emptying the water out onto the grass before turning to let her father and Robbie know what she intends to do.

She thinks better of it as she sees the two of them grappling with the hinges of a long folding table, struggling to collapse it. Probably for the best that they don’t know where she’s going. She takes the bucket, heading off in the direction of the farm.

Abraham isn’t hard to find. He stands in a stall of the stable, running a brush along the back of a chestnut coloured thoroughbred. He is bathed in the orange glow of early summer evening, the dying sunlight plays upon the sharpness of his features, making him appear ethereal.

“He’s beautiful.” She says, making sure it’s the horse she nods towards as she approaches.

Abraham grins when he sees her, continuing to brush out the horse’s coat. “He’s alright. Still needs a bit of work, but he’s fast. Should be fit for racing soon.”

“Mr. Ruskin doesn’t mind you keeping your horses in his stables?” 

He laughs drily, tossing the brush to one side and stepping out of the stall. “He told us to. Pitched a fit when he saw the state they were making of his field.”

She nods in understanding, watching as he brushes his hands off on his trousers.

“So what brings you to me?” He asks, leaning against the door of an empty stall and eyeing her closely.

“Oh,” She steps forward, holding out the bucket. “You left this. Thought you might want it back.”

He takes it from her with a smirk. “Right, because Ruskin couldn’t have brought this with him when he brought the donkey back…”

She feels herself grow hot again, opening and closing her mouth as she struggles to formulate a response.

“Why are you really here?” He closes the gap between them, a predatory glint in his eye.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She whispers, feeling arousal seep between her legs, warm and sticky, as he grips her lightly by the tops of her arms, turning her and backing her into the empty stall.

“I think you do.” He says lowly, fingertips tracing her jawline, the pad of his thumb passes slowly across her bottom lip, pulling slightly. “See, I think that little boyfriend of yours isn’t fucking you the way you’d like him to, so you thought you’d come see if I could do a better job.”

“N-no!” She stammers, fighting to keep her composure, as her stomach feels as though it’s doing somersaults.

“Oh?” He cocks his head, the hand not cupping her jaw moves, pushing the skirt of her dress up her thighs. “You a good girl then? Tell me to stop.”

She knows she should, but what she should do and what she wants to do are at direct odds with each other, so she says nothing, her chest rising and falling quickly with the rapidity of her breathing.

“That’s what I thought,” He utters, inhaling sharply as his fingers come to stroke over her clothed centre, feeling the dampness there. “Good girls don’t soak through their knickers like this for boys like me.”

It’s then that he finally presses forward to capture her lips with his own. It’s like no other kiss she’s ever experienced before, as his mouth moves with firmness against her own, parting to slip his tongue alongside hers, it feels like he is staking claim to her. She clings desperately to his shoulders, whimpering as she feels him push her underwear to the side and slowly sink a long finger inside of her.

“So tight…” He mumbles between kisses, moving his mouth to neck to suckle at her pulse point as his digit curls and pumps within her heat.

She allows her head to fall back with a soft thump against the wood of the stall’s wall as he adds a second, the repetitive strokes across a particular spot deep within her cause her muscles to tense as she bucks against his hand, feeling her belly tighten.

“Gonna come for me?” He asks cockily, sounding pleased with himself. His thumb begins to stroke at her pearl in tandem with the push and pull of his middle and forefingers.

The motion causes the tautness in her to finally give way, a wave of warmth rushes over her body from head to toe, and she lets out a strangled cry as she tightens and spasms around him.

She whines, her knees buckling as Abraham slowly retracts his fingers, but he’s quick to hold her in place by her waist. “S’alright, I’ve got you.” He reassures, keeping her steady until her breathing returns to normal.

The haze from her climax lifts slightly when she hears the metallic sound of his belt buckle unfastening, anticipation causing her breath to come in shallow puffs when it has only just recovered.

“You gonna let me inside, pretty girl?” He questions.

It almost makes her want to laugh, after what he’s just done to her, now he’s asking for permission. She nods feebly, her eyes heavy lidded as they take in the sight of his length as he fists it, long and thick. For a brief moment she wonders how he’ll fit.

“Use your words,” He urges. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” She whispers shakily, “Want you inside of me.”

He smirks, pressing into her with a satisfied groan and she mewls pathetically as he stretches her open, his grip on her thigh as he holds her open to him is sure to leave bruises.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He grits out, once he’s finally sheathed within her.

He smells faintly of sweat, musky and intoxicating as she holds him close to her. She has never felt so full before, and the roughness of the wood against her back through the thin cotton of her dress, combined with the press of Abraham against her is almost overwhelming. 

Her head lolls to the side and she gasps once he finally starts to snap his hips against hers. He places a hand around her throat, giving the sides a gentle squeeze. “Look at me,” He orders. “Look at me when I fuck you.”

She finds that once she meets his eyes, she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. There’s a hunger that burns within those baby blues, commanding and insatiable, that keeps her trapped like an animal beneath the intensity of his gaze.

His pace is relentless. The slap of skin against skin mixed with the cadence of the wanton sounds that fall from her lips is lewd, utterly obscene, yet she is too far gone to care or feel embarrassed.

She knows that Abraham is close when his pace falters. He pulls out with a grunt, stroking himself furiously until ropes of his pearlescent spend coat her thighs and lower belly.

He falls forward, keeping a hand pressed to the wall beside her head to stop himself putting too much of his weight onto her, and rests his forehead against hers.

“Fuck,” He breathes. “We should do that more often.”

“You’re leaving tomorrow.” She says quietly, hoping her voice doesn’t betray the sadness she feels.

“So? Come with me.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, brushing the tip of his nose softly against her cheek.

“I can’t do that!” She huffs incredulously.

“Why?” He asks, stepping away, looking for something to help clean them both up. “What’s stopping you?”

She pauses, her brow furrowing as she struggles to think of an answer. Really, what is stopping her? She grins, her future suddenly seeming much less dull.

[fan-goddess]

Chapter Five: Loving your husband

Catch up on the fic here!

Chapter Summary: You’ve arrived at your new home, and Abraham it seems has already decided on how he wants the night to go. But will your anxieties stray him away from his original plan?

Authors Note: Thank you to everyone who’s been on this Abraham journey with me! If not for your support I wouldn’t have had the motivation to finish this! So thank you again my loves ♥️♥️♥️♥️

Taglist: @valeskafics, @omgbrcat @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity @anjelicawrites @lexwolfhale @helaenaluvr @scarletbedlam @tssf-imagines @vhagar-balerion-meraxes @arcielee @targaryenbarbie @ilikechocolatemilkh @tumblin-theworldaway @skintoskinsstuff

Warnings: Nicknames, dirty talk, p in v sex, teasing, kissing, soft at fuck, teeth rotting, angst, f oral, consent checks, praise kink, breeding kink, probably an incorrect description of a virgin losing there virginity, (if I miss any let me know!)

“I think, if it’s alright with you little, we continue what you left me with at the stables…”

You lean into his touch eagerly, and yet you cannot deny the familiar mix of anxiety and sadness that wallows in your stomach at his words alone. Guilt rising steadily up your throat and bubbling within your whole body.

It’s so obvious though that Abraham can clearly see it in your eyes alone. To him, they appear glaze over in thought so deep that it’s only when his thumb softly grazes your bottom lip, do you snap out of your trance.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, an unfamiliar look of sincerity on his face.

“It’s nothing…” You murmur, but still, Abraham appears unconvinced. Especially with how he grips your chin firmly to force you to look at him whilst your mouth opens in a silent gasp.

“No no no, none of that little one. Tell me what’s wrong, or I’ll have to make sure I punish it out of you. And I don’t think I want to be doing that to you on our wedding night.” His whole body practically oozes with confidence as his words are purred with such dominance, that at that moment, you can’t help but deny the feelings his words seem to have ignited within you. You can’t help but think about how his words haven’t made you want to withhold your answer for just a little while longer, just so you can witness what this so called punishment would exactly entail. Still though, the underlying guilt that had clawed its way from your throat earlier wins your minds inner tennis match, so even if you didn’t want to say it, the words still can’t seem to stop themselves from spilling out of you quickly like water from a broken pipe.

“I’m a coward…” You mumble, eyes looking as far down they can while your hands clasp onto Abrahams wedding jacket that you’re surprised he hasn’t taken off yet, given the fact you’d assume he’d get uncomfortable being in such fancy clothes for such a long time. “I couldn’t admit to my feelings to you in the stables, and I ran from you when I shouldn’t have. I’m so sorry Abraham…”

An uncomfortable silence rings through the air, only broken by the deep breathes coming from yours and Abrahams chests. Yet you can’t help but lightly gasp at the sudden feeling of Abraham’s hand tightly clasping your body and his lips leaving a firm kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t you dare be sorry little one,” He whispers deep into your skin, and you can feel the emotional undertones underneath his words as they effectively manage to pour themselves over you. “I understood. I was… inconsiderate when I told you about how I felt about you. I didn’t think about your own feelings. How my words would affect that pretty little head of yours like it did. I’m sorry for being a massive fucking idiot who only thought about themself.”

Abrahams silent as he allows you to continue to hold him and think. That is however, before you pull him down into a deep kiss, and somehow in his moment of shock, manage to push him against the nearest wall and hold him there without a single murmur of a fuss.

“We’re both stupid…” You murmur against his lips, his own mouth though eager and embarrassingly enough really fucking desperate for a taste you, as he tries to reclaim his earlier dominance. Even though he can’t deny how much your uncharacteristic act of confidence has affected him. Especially with how he finds himself unable to ignore the harsh ache radiating from his cock that you gave him.

He tries to ignore it though to the best of his ability by making sure he kisses you back fiercely. His tongue sneaking itself into your mouth to caress your own in a wet and hot kiss, so that by the end of it, the two of you are red cheeked and breathless. Practically panting into each other’s mouths as you admire each other’s broken down selves.

“So fucking beautiful…” He murmurs, giving you one last but deep kiss on your lips, before he all of a sudden grabs you while you shriek in surprise. You cannot see where the two of you are heading, but you can’t deny the fact thatyou very much hope he’s leading you to where lies his -no, the both of yours’- bedroom.

You give the room a once over as Abraham places you surprisingly gently on the bed, and you can’t help but feel genuinely surprised by what you see. For one, it’s actually clean. The bed you could tell looked pre-made before he’d put you down, and there were no dirty clothes flung about the room like most other boys rooms seemed to have. If you could you’d have observed longer, but Abraham makes sure to quickly drag you from your thoughts once more as he dots wet kisses along the curve of your neck, most likely leaving marks with how fiercely he’s currently claiming you.

He doesn’t even stop his assault on you though as he murmurs another a question to you, but that doesn’t mean you don’t hear it. If anything, you can’t help but think it’s the clearest thing he’s said to you all night, and it leaves your lower half tingling in anticipation. “Can I undress you?” He’d murmured, stopping only to look at you with those intense blue eyes of his that leave you utterly desperate for more.

You nod, too worried that you’d let something unsavoury slip if you dared opened your mouth. But Abraham it appears is less than pleased at your lack of an answer, as in retaliation he lightly bites at your collarbone, drawing a sound from your lips you didn’t even realise at first you’d made.

“I won’t accept that answer little one. Answer me. Speak.”

“Y-yes you can undress me husband…” You say, and from his reaction, it was exactly what he wanted to hear. He pulls you up slightly so he could reach the back of your dress where all the complicated buttons for your dress lay to be conquered, and by the way Abrahams face was slowly turning red and his brows were furrowing, he was definitely not having a very successful time conquering. You can’t help but giggle at how the situation has turned, but his fierce stare turns to you suddenly, and the laughter quickly dies on your tongue.

“Oh you think this is funny do you?” He growls. His fingers once softly touching your back now gripping the delicate fabric with no thought to your possibly discomfort, which to be honest was anything but that. “I’m trying to be good… so don’t you go about tempting me to just rip this thing off and take you where you lay. You don’t deserve that treatment… not this early at least…”

You whimper at his words, and yet the imagery of what he could do to you hits you hard and fast. While you were innocent in body, you were certainly not exactly innocent in mind. Flashbacks of a younger you gasping and giggling with a hand over your mouth at the lewd tales of what men and women do, hidden within the back shelf books of the adult section.

“Are you listening to me doll?” Abraham murmurs, biting slightly on the reachable skin of your chest to draw you from your thoughts once more. It seemed your brain was all over the place and unable to stay in the moment you most wanted to be, much to your own annoyance. “I can’t be good for you if you can’t even bloody listen to me.”

“I’m sorry…” You whisper, eyes closed as you relish in his almost sinful feeling touches. “I’ll be good, I swear!” You shuffle yourself away from him slightly and carefully manage to unbutton the mass of buttons on your back, trying hard not to giggle at Abraham face while he looks at you in disbelief when you manage to take the white dress off your body and place it carefully on a random chair within a few minutes. “See!”

You move your hands in a mock sort of demonstration, and yet Abrahams eyes are not on them. They’re very clearly on your breasts, that are currently naked and clear for him to see and ogle at to his hearts content.

“You say you’re a good girl, but here you are, braless. I don’t think good girls do that sort of thing darling. Only naughty little girls who let any kind of fella fuck them do that. But you aren’t one of those sorts of girls, are you little sweetling?” His words drip with sweet nectar, and like an innocent bee you’re lead straight to it all too easily and naively. His touch alone on your now bare skin feeling practically electric and addictive. Even his words practically make you dizzy. It’s all so overwhelming you almost forget what’s expected of you tonight. You almost somehow manage to forget that tonight, you’ll be losing your virginity to him.

You can feel Abrahams hands and lips giving pure devotion to your uncovered breasts. The whole act leaving small gasps leaving your lips when he bites down slightly at random intervals, leaving you completely on the tip of your toes. It’s a completely intoxicating feeling you never want to stop.

Only you’re so caught up in the feeling of pleasure Abraham provides you, mixed with the anxiety of the night, you don’t feel his lips beginning to kiss down your body, leaving small marks in his wake as he makes his way to your underwear. That is where he stops though and looks back up at you with hooded, almost predatory eyes. So dark it was if you were looking at the night sky, all the possibly constellations old and new included.

“Look at me.” He commands, your anxieties and previous thoughts stripping away the moment you make eye contact with him. “Now tell me. Clearly. Can I take these off you?”

“Yes…” You say almost instinctively. Like you didn’t even need to think about it at all. Though as Abraham is about to take your underwear in his hands, you can’t help yourself but ask Abraham your own small question.

“Can’t I see you though?” You whisper, looking up at him with such innocent eyes that it leaves Abraham seemingly speechless as he practically gapes at you from bellow. You almost believe he didn’t hear you the first time, and are about to repeat it for a second, when he responds with a very enthusiastic, “Of course!” before moving to undress himself. Every item of clothing that he strips himself off leaving your mouth wider and wider open.

By the end of it, when he’s left in front of you in only his off-white boxers and his golden chain that hangs around his neck, and you’re practically breathless and shaking as you lay there half naked yourself. Your eyes unable to look themselves away from him as you make sure to admire every single part of him with your eyes. You can’t help but notice how the chain contrasts almost sinfully against his skin, though what really takes your interest, is the tattoo on his back you see when he turns around. The tattoo that had brought your such invigorated attention to him barely even two months ago.

“What’s the meaning?” You find yourself asking. Watching as a pauses and tried to peer at his back to see where it was you were looking while his back was to you.

Like you had thought to yourself earlier, compared to the other tattoos it was definitely softer. Especially since how now you could really look at it and admire it. Abraham sat half naked in front of you back to your chest, and your hand seems to almost move to touch it instinctively. Too curious in your nature to think about asking permission to touch him. Though you definitely noticed the way his body seemed to shiver at the feel of your skin on his.

It’s a lily, you eventually realise looking at it more closely. A Lilly of the valley flower.

“I got it when my mother left.” Abraham explained. The warmth of his back rumbling under his words. “I never resented her for what she did. I understood it. But I just thought, if she can’t be here with me, then at least she could be here someway or another...”

Unlike the unnerving and uncomfortable silence from before, this time it’s layered with a deep underlying sense of trust and devotion. Yet even still, too worried about a hidden meaning for it and what could be going on in your pretty little head, Abraham is all too prepared to turn around and look you in the eye. That is however, before every thought in his head manages to pause, once he feels your soft warm lips kissing the inked flower so softly, that he could barely feel it. Your hands, being the delicate things they are, rub up and down the right side of his body so tenderly he almost thinks clouds have fallen into his and your bedroom.

Yet still, as this is all happening so quickly, he cannot deny how it’s made him feel. How with a slight wave of emotion coming over him, he realises how your actions have made him feel so loved so quickly.

“Well it’s beautiful…” You murmur, laying the side of your head on his back as you move to wrap your arms around his torso. Even smiling against his skin as you feel Abrahams arms tightly hold onto yours with a possessiveness only he could provide you with. “You’re beautiful…”

This time, Abraham is able to sense the comfort in this bout of silence that the two of you bask in, and how the sound of his and yours breath, as well as the feeling of the both of yours’ hearts beating in your chests, is easily the most relaxing feeling in the world.

The two of you have no idea how long you were basking in each others holds, but the only thing you do know, is that Abraham very nearly scares you to death when he turns around suddenly and kisses you so deeply you almost let out a noise of shock. He kisses you so deeply in fact though that he pushes you easily so you fall with your back to the bed, and his frame is hovering over you, trapping you against him, not that you minded of course.

His tongue swipes at the entrance of your mouth and you open it cautiously, though you definitely can say you’re surprised with how much you find yourself enjoying the feeling of his tongue caressing yours. Unlike earlier when the two of your were focused on the action, you realise now that you’re able to bask in him whole, you can taste the whisky that he drank earlier on your lips and tongue. But it’s mixed with a smell that’s just so Abraham, that you can’t really define it as anything else. You’re not lying when you tell yourself that your husband seems to be addictive in every aspects of himself.

His hands appear to rediscover your body with a new sense of passion, as there’s not a single patch of skin that isn’t soon touched by Abrahams fingertips. His lips leaving small pools of spit with how long he makes sure to kiss and worship the skin, small murmurs of affirmation following after each time. By the end, your skin felt as if it was on fire with it all. So warm and sensitive with each word from his charm cursed lips. You had no idea Abraham was such a sweet talker, but like all other aspects you’ve discovered of his, he’s mastered it flawlessly.

Though when Abraham eventually gets to your underwear once again, he looks back up at you with if possible, even more lustful eyes than before, and repeats the very same question he’d asked earlier. “Can I take these off you?” To which you eagerly nod and verbalise your agreement, sending Abraham into what you could only describe as being a frenzy.

His hands eagerly rip off the underwear off, throwing them somewhere in the room blind as his eyes widen looking only at your lower half. You try to lean up to see him, but one of his hands quickly moves to push you back down onto your back so your eyes can only stare at the ceiling above you.

Yet even so, your eyes find themselves quickly shutting as you suddenly find yourself absolutely immersed in pleasure. Abrahams fingers you can feel to your surprise, tracing against your leaking pussy eagerly, and with obvious experience, as he seems to already know where to stroke and where to give special focus too. The feelings he provides only heightening when a single finger of his is pushed slowly inside of you, prodding something of yours deep within you that leaves your hips somehow already wriggling to get closer to him, to the addictive pleasure he provides you with. The books you had looked at when you were a teenager certainly hadn’t ever talked about this…

Yet when you feel something else down there, you quickly realise it to be Abraham’s tongue on you, and that’s when you feel like you’ve gone absolutely mad. You can’t hear yourself, but later on that night, Abraham will tell you how your voice went so loud, so wanton even, that he almost needed to place a hand over your mouth in fear that your parents, who mind you lived on the other side of the caravan sight, would hear you. He’d say it with such a smug face you couldn’t help but smack him with a pillow, drawing a chuckle from the poor man who mocked an injury.

“Fucking delicious…” You hear him grunt, mixed with the embarrassing sounds of your own wetness, and you feel your face turn a whole new shade of red from it all.

It’s a different feeling you have bubbling in your belly from the one you felt when you rarely would pleasure yourself in your bed. Yet this is a hotter feeling somehow, and a thousand times more intense. So intense even, that you feel your hips judder and jerk away from Abraham’s hold, to which he merely tightens his hands to lock onto your skin and makes his movements faster within you.

You feel your eyes beginning to roll into the back of your head and as it all begins to go quiet, you can feel your thighs begin shaking, cramping even from the way you try to clench them harder around Abrahams head to keep him where he was, in fear for some unknown reason to you he’d move away. Though when you try to tell him what it is you’re feeling, it’s almost as if he already knows. Only chuckling with a mocking amusement when he hears your pitiful attempt at words and going back to what he was doing. Making you feel utterly complete and meaningful.

When you feel what must be an orgasm shatter through you, it’s like a blinding hot pleasure is travelling throughout your whole entire being. Your lungs feel as if they’re about to collapse with how hard you try to bring the air you’d lost back into your body, and your legs begin to make you wince as they start to ache slightly. Though when you make eyes with Abraham after you somehow manage recover, you feel your air go right back out of you when you see him looking at with such hunger, such desire, that for once in your life, you felt wanted more than anything.

But with the way Abraham finally pulls down his underwear and reveals himself in all his glory too you, you’re very much fiercely brought back to the thoughts of your earlier anxieties.

Oh my god how big is that thing!? You think, your mouth no doubt hung wide in shock at the size of his… thing.

“I take it by your reaction that your pleased with what you see?” He teased. His smirk dripping in smugness and carelessness, as if he’s had the same reaction before. Has he had the same reaction before?

“Well, there isn’t exactly a lot for me to compare it with…” You tease back, smiling slightly at the way he shrugs and laughs in a halfhearted agreement to your words.

Yet he quickly gets over it, and a familiar look of seriousness spreads on his face which to your surprise, manages to send a wave of arousal through your body so strong you feel the need to shut your legs and hide from him. Yet when you try, strong rough hands clench almost dutifully around them and forcibly pries them open.

His eyes burn holes in you as he makes sure to take his time admiring you, and the way he can visibly see your juices and your cum dripping out of you. It almost makes him loose it and go insane there and then.

“P-please Abraham.” You beg, flushing red from the shame of it all, and the way he brings you so out of character, it’s almost amusing. You never would have thought back when you were thirteen that you’d be married to Abraham and laying in his bed, eagerly awaiting for him to fuck you. “Please…”

You’re obviously a bit hesitant on saying the exact words, but there aren’t exactly any nicer ways of begging him to have sex with you. Though it seems to your relief that Abraham is all too delighted in helping you through your worries.

“Say it…” He murmurs, his lips practically scorching as he leans down and kisses random patches of your skin. “Say how much you want me… I won’t fuck you until you say you want me too. So say it little one, and I might spare you some undeserving mercy.”

You gasp, and you can’t deny the way your breath hitches in your throat, and the way your fingers itch to bury themselves in Abrahams hair. The same way your lower half seems to ache in need for your husband. The man you can’t help but seem to have found a deep sort of affection for.

“Please Abraham…” You murmur, unable to stop the words from spilling from your lips. “Please… fuck me.”

Soon as you utter those words, it’s as if Abraham becomes a man possessed. His lips turn harsh as they suck deep marks once more into your skin, and his fingers turn equally brutal when they dig tightly to hold you in place as he grabs his cock with one hand and cautiously moves it closer to your entrance. Which by now, you’d be surprised if he didn’t find you dripping with physical arousal.

His eyes stare into your own as he pauses himself, and they make you feel small as he practically towers over you like a predator to a defenceless prey. Yet somehow, there is still that rare softness within him that you find yourself loving, as his eyes manage to ask you a thousand questions.

Did you still want this? With a nod and a small reassuring smile, you manage to convey your answer of yes to him. “This’ll hurt. I’m sorry.” Is all he says before with a deep grunt, he slowly pushes his erection deep inside you, while you yourself hiss at the stinging pain that begins to harshly throb within you.

"Feels so good," He grunts, making sure he stops to let you adjust to his size as he rubs his hands up and down your sides as a sort of comfort. A thing you’ll realise is almost an exact mirror to what you did to comfort him earlier that night. "You feel amazing darling… you're doing so fucking well little one, that's it..." With every presumable inch he pushes deeper, he murmurs new words against your ears that make you feel as if you were floating above the heavens as pleasure envelopes you whole. That pain you were feeling earlier practically nothing compared to what you were feeling now.

You can't even find it within you the words you want to say to say to him at that moment. The only thing you find yourself able to do is moan and whine and plead wordlessly for more, as the familiar delicious feeling of pleasure bubbles slowly in your belly again.

"Please Abraham!" You manage to say, your eyes clenched shut as your legs wrap around his waist whilst his hips try so hard not to begin thrusting in you as fast as they can. "Please go faster!"

He groans a deep feral noise, and his hips begin to slowly thrust against yours. Slowly building up a pressure that begins to brew in your stomach the longer Abraham moves in you.

“So good!” You whine, addicting to the feeling he provides you as his own noises of pleasure do nothing but fuel your inner fire. “Please husband please faster!” You feel so uncharacteristically greedy begging for more, and yet Abraham seems all too happy to provide with whatever it is you ask for, little or small, as his hands turn harsh as they grip roughly at your hips, and he thrusts his cock into you so hard you can practically feel him in your stomach. It’s so much, and yet it’s so little compared to how much you know you could actually feel. For once those darn books helping.

“So good for me…” Abraham groans, his eyes screwed shut as he indulges himself in your warmth that consumes him. If he could, he’d live in this moment with you. The feeling of him just merging with you being the best thing he’s ever felt in his entire miserable fucking life. “Best little wife of mine I could ever fucking ask for. Maybe I should give you a baby… get you pregnant so I can see you round and full all because of me… would you like that little one?”

You let out a gasp, and can’t help yourself from clenching around Abraham tightly as the imagery slips through your head. The idea of months passing and your stomach being swollen and round with his child, driving you somehow past the point of known insanity. It makes your head spin and your thoughts loud with want.

“Yes Abraham I want it! Please do that please please please!” You whine, scream even, while your eyes screw shut once again like earlier, imagining the scene while he continues fucking you with a new found passion as the imagery also passes through his head as-well. It seems the both of you are all too eager for what the future could hold for the two of you.

Your nails scrape along the bare canvas of your husbands back, and you can feel his sharp intake of breath against your ear as he groans deeply and loudly at the feeling. His thick thighs smacking against your own with an audible sound as he thrusts deeper and deeper into you. You can even feel the slightly cold chain that hangs around his neck scrape delicately against your skin. Everything he does for you, purposefully or not, driving you absolutely mad, if you weren’t somehow already.

Your eyes feel as if they roll into the back of your head with how good Abraham makes you feel, and you swear your voice somehow manages to get louder as you feel the knot in your stomach tightening again like earlier, and your toes curling at the end of the bed. “I-Im so close Abe!” You let out, the nickname sounding so strange on your tongue yet also so right.

His face becomes somehow more furrowed than it already was as he hears your sighs, and his face becomes focused as he thinks of only making your words a reality.

“Gonna have you cum on my cock,” He groans, gasps of pleasure leaving your lips as he somehow manages to thrust his hips against you faster, practically pounding into you now. “Gonna fuck my cum deep inside of you, and leave you absolutely full and dripping of me. Would you like that little wife of mine?”

You can’t handle it as your face turns a whole new colour at the shame of it all, but still with a sick grin making its way on your face you find you like the shame of it all, and the way it feels as your husband pleasures you. The only thing you can really say at that moment, is that it’s absolutely fucking addictive, no doubt about it. “Yes yes yes husband I want your cum deep inside me! Please fuck me please fuck me harder I want it all!”

Your face burns, yet it’s nothing compared to the feeling of your whole body shutting down as your walls clench hard around Abrahams cock, while for the second time that night, you orgasm from your husbands efforts alone. And by the way Abraham himself groans loud and proud in your ear and thrusts himself as deep as he can inside of you, you can guess you’ve made him cum too.

Whilst the two of you are slowly regaining your breaths and allowing your hearts to slow, you can’t help but let a distinctive feeling of pride come over you as you realise you’ve managed to make a man cum.

In the most non-strange way possible, you can’t help but think how your mother would be proud of you right now.

“Are you alright?” You hear Abraham murmur in your ear, and when you turn your head to look at him, your mouth curves into an involuntary way when you see he’s already looking at you with such soft eyes, and an equally soft smile on his own lips. Fuck, he look so fucking pretty in your arms…

“Yeah…” You murmur back, a smile you don’t even realise you’re making clear as day on your face as you bask in your happiness. “Perfect…” You close your eyes, and all seems right as you listen to your husband’s breathing, and feel his warmth slowly consuming you. Absolutely everything in that moment feeling more perfect than perfect. Better than better. Greater than great.

“I love you…” You whisper, not even aware if he heard it or not as you find yourself falling deeply asleep in his arms that somehow had moved you to lay on his chest while he laid on his back. But if you had managed to stay awake, even for just a minute, you’d have seen the way Abrahams eyes watered with a single happy tear than ran down his cheek, and heard his own small murmur back.

“I love you too little one… so fucking much.”

[find-your-rp-partner]

Just for fun....

Hi there!  I have been RPing with the same person for about 12 years but unfortunately, our schedules have recently changed.   The transition has not been an easy one.... I am in search of a new partner.   

Here are some things that I am into (bear with me, I have never really thought about this before.... ^_^) 

OCs: modern hospital setting, Victorian hospital setting, one night stands, friends that turn into more (modern setting or historical), medieval, Westerns, Gothic horror, war (Revolutionary War - WWII), celebrities

Some fandoms: Sherlock (BBC), Chicago Fire, Chicago Med, Disney (Beauty and the Beast, Tangled, Frozen, etc), Criminal Minds, Grantchester, Marvel (Avengers, Spiderman, F4), Batman, POTC, Harry Potter (usually with an OC), Walking Dead, and more...

About me:  female, 30 yrs old.  My occupation is nursing.  I am in -6:00 US Central Time and I'm usually on at night between 9:30 pm and 2:00 am. RP is a fun release for me and allows me to geek out!  I do not care if my partner is male or female.  I have no problem playing males. I would prefer my partner to be around my age though. 

Likes: hurt/comfort, romance, fluff, smut, pregnancy, damsels in distress

Dislikes: age play (older female x younger male), video games, anime, RP over e-mail, snobs, 1000+ word posts  (I range from 100-200.  I want to actively post back and forth.  I don't want to wait 20 minutes for a post, sorry).

Platforms:  I grew up playing on AOL, AIM, and Yahoo IM.   Since Yahoo crapped out, I have been using Skype... please e-mail me first though.  penguinguitar4@gmail.com.....Thanks! *Fingers crossed*  x.x 

[lxprincipessx-blog]

MUN STUFF. remember to repost, not reblog.

tagged by: wonderful, amazing and kind @livingforamun

tagging:  @ordinaryxgentleman @aroseofyork @daniellecountessofderby @unh0lyson @simply-milady @apurekindness @sentiment-or-profit @ashes-of-elysian @whitexprincess @dobroserdechnyy @diexeinzige @lentelente and basically anyone who is bored and looking for something to do 

NAME: I will tell you my real name if you tell me yours, but I´m fine if you refer to me as V.  GENDER: Female. EYE COLOR: - HAIR COLOR: - RELATIONSHIP STATUS: none of your business  ZODIAC: Libra FAVORITE COLOR: purple, bordeaux, black, green FAVORITE SEASON: autumn (indian summer)  FAVORITE PLACE:  The Library FAVORITE HOLIDAY: - FAVORITE VIDEO GAME: I don´t play video games :/  LAST SHOW YOU WATCHED: Grantchester WHAT’S YOUR HONEST OPINION ABOUT YOUR MUSE?:  I obviously like her, however, I´m not gonna lie that some of her opinions are cringy. She was a typical aristocrat, high on her pedestal, cut out from the reality of life.  WOULD YOU DATE YOUR MUSE?:  No. WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE KINDS OF THREADS?: I always like to establish a plot twist or a core of a story. I mean roleplaying just happy casual days is fine but I´m really bad with it and I get bored and not motivated. I like to make it a bit emotional and dramatic, wooo.  ARE YOU A SELECTIVE ROLEPLAYER?:  Hopefully not, since I am always so open to criticism picky roleplayers. I refuse to roleplay smut, follow blogs that post porn pictures. If someone wants to rp with me and they are open to bending their muse just as I´m, I´m more than happy to roleplay tons of threads with them and I don´t care about historical periods etc.etc.  DO YOU HAVE A FAVORITE MUSE?: Probably Warwick, Richard Neville.  WHAT MADE YOU DECIDE TO JOIN THE FANDOM?:  FRENCH HISTORY 

DO YOU SEE YOURSELF STAYING WITH THE FANDOM FOR A LONG TIME?: Hmm, the fandom of Versailles? I´m already probably more or less out, anyway. Roleplaying history? Yes, as I think that no matter what it is my cup of tea. I tend to follow the same people with new blogs etc. etc. 

[fandomtrumpshate2017offerings]

SilverInk - FTH Contributor Page

See SilverInk’s works here!

To contact the seller before bidding, please send an ask to queeniegoldsteinns.tumblr.com

If you have a very specific prompt and are not flexible, it’s best to contact the seller before bidding, even if it fits within their listed parameters. If you are asking for a specific kink, always ask first.

Charities these auctions benefit: Bidder's choice of any of the listed groups

(See full list at our FAQ)

SilverInk’s offerings:

SilverInk Auction #1

Type of fanwork: fic Subtype(s): n/a Fandom(s): Endeavour, Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries, Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them, Grantchester, Merlin Rating(s): G, Teen, Mature Length/size: 5-10k words Especially interested in: Will not: No Gradence/Gravebone for FBAWTFT, preferably no smut Notes:

Auctions run from 12 January 2017 (Midnight, EST) to 19 January 2017 (Midnight, EST). Bids before or after this period are invalid and will not be counted.If you would like to bid on this auction:

Step 1: Check the bidding spreadsheet to find out what the current high bid is. (Note: It may take up to five minutes for a bid to appear.)

Step 2: Fill out the seller’s bidding form with a bid that is higher than the current high bid. If you want to make it harder for someone to outbid you, bid higher! You will NOT be notified if someone outbids you, so please bookmark this page and check frequently. You will only be notified if you are the high bidder after the auctions end.

Thanks for participating in Fandom Trumps Hate!

[slow-burn-sally]

:D :D

B, C and N?

Thank you friend!

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

Some of them yes! I'm a massage therapist and I've written Crowley as giving Aziraphale massages in two fics. Recently, I wrote a Crozier/Jopson fic where Jopson excels at taking care of little children and takes them on fantastical imaginary journeys in his back garden. My aunt did this for me and my brother when I was little.

I'm sure there are other things here and there, but those are the two that stand out.

C: What character do you identify with most?

So many! I think Crowley is a top contender. I grew up under very dysfunctional circumstances (involving lots of drugs and theft and lies), I had to develop a set of boundaries and morals beyond the shaky ones given to me by the demons that raised me. I wear a lot of black. I’m in love with Aziraphale. We have a lot in common. So yeah. 

But also, I identify a lot with very uptight characters. Hermann Gottlieb from Pacific Rim. Mrs. Sylvia Maguire/Chapman from Grantchester. Characters with anxiety, because I have anxiety. It’s sometimes hard to separate out characters I identify with, from characters I’m just all around in love with. There is some crossover. Maybe this means... I love myself? 

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

I want long, romantic slow burn Crozier/Jopson fics! Not many in The Terror fandom, which tends to concentrate on either 1. short, one shot smut or 2. Long but very angsty, multi-ship/dark dynamic stuff for that pairing. I just want them falling in love and being soft together over the course of 25 chapters. The other styles of Cropson fic are wonderful and fantastic, and I’m so grateful to those authors. I just may be one of a very few authors who writes long ass, super romance oriented Cropson fics? If anyone has any recs, throw them my way!!

This was fun! Thank you!!

[ao3feed-cherik]

(Don't)Stay away from jazz and liqour

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/38BkI0C

by DalekLetoEndeavour

It was 1964 and a nightingale sang in Berkeley square Well actually it was Ealing Broadway nd the nightingale was in reality a gypsy boy with the madest picks in town. Sidney Chambers fell head over heels for him but knowing his luck in matters of the heart trouble would soon follow.

********* Staring Erik Lehnsherr as the troubles aka the most (annoying) amazing brother an OC can wish for and defenitly did not deserve any of this

Blame my cherik partner in crime @OncerPotter_2016 for giving me ideas ♡♡

Words: 4442, Chapters: 1/6, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Leto's Morseverse RPG OC having a merry time in his own stories bc Alice isn't in those fandom ;_;

Fandoms: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types, Grantchester (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Erik Lehnsherr, Sidney Chambers, Charles Xavier, Geordie Keating, Leonard Finch, Sylvia Maguire, Jack Almashy

Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Sidney Chambers/Original Male Character(s), Sidney Chambers/Jack Almashy

Additional Tags: Canon Jewish Character, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), Jewish Identity, Secret Relationship, Religious Conflict, Murder Mystery, Jazz Age, Jazz - Freeform, Possible Character Death, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Non-Graphic Smut, Protective Siblings, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Protective Erik Lehnsherr, Bi Sidney Chambers is cannon y'all, Erik Lehnsherr is the best brother, Happy Ending we don't do that here

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/38BkI0C