#if you are reading this far in the tags I love you!

[mayullla]

Title: His Dream Wife

Character(s): Richard (Original character / Original work)

Synopsis: He always wanted a perfect family, but life never gave him what he wanted. Instead, he was blackmailed into marrying a gold digger. But after seeing you for the first time the wife of his friend all he could think of was you. So don't mind him when he was given the option to swap his wife's consciousness with yours he took that chance immediately.

Warnings/tags: Yandere Dilf x meek reader, yandere pov, general yandere themes, body swap between reader and Yandere's wife, cheating (not done by reader), arranged, baby trapping, Yandere wants that traditional wife and lifestyle. Word count: 4.2k (Please tell me if I miss anything!)

Note: I just finished reading the webtoon "Marry My Husband," so you can probably see many small ideas taken from it in this story!

Ever since he was young, Richard had fantasies and dreams of a perfect family. He always loved the idea of someone relying on him just as much as he would on them, and someone who would love him exclusively and trust him completely. Maybe that was why he liked wolves, having been told back then that those animals would mate for life. He liked that. He wanted that. Friends were nice there is nothing wrong with that. But there is something about a family that he wanted. Maybe it was because he was jealous back then of how affectionate his grandparents were between each other, while his parents were far from that.

That was what he wanted and well maybe he started to want a little more the older he got. He wanted what his grandparents had, he wanted what the movies had… he wanted what his fantasies had. He loved the idea of a family, coming back from work to an affectionate housewife with her tummy big inside a second or third child while holding the first. The idea of kisses between each other, while his lover irrupts in giggles, playfully pushing him back telling him that he should not let the food turn cold or let the kids see them.

Someone he could spoil and give everything to while she relied on him and his money. He would work hard every day just for her and the kids, to give them the home they deserve. She would give back by cooking and cleaning the house, anybody knows that those things are hard work and everything takes time. But she would do it for the both of them, for him. 

Yet he wasn't able to attain that dream. He wasn't allowed to have it. He attracted the attention of a viel woman, who had used any and every blackmail to tie him down to her. He was a manager at a big company already quickly climbing up but also came from a rich family, he unwantedly got the attention of a woman who was greedy for money and something handsome. 

And her own manager was ripe for the picking.

She did many things but somehow he was able to avoid many of them however that could only go on for so long. She was cunning, too smart for her own good. He didn't know how she did it, it made him furious at what she did waking up in a hotel with her right beside him. He had no memories of the night yet she did when she told everyone that she had his baby a month later.

Everyone was frantic, his parents especially who cared so much about their appearance and reputation than anything else. While he hated them for the lack of love or care only forcing him to their whims to get a word above their acquaintances and rivals. The idea of him their own son mudding their name with the fact that he got someone pregnant without marriage made them furious. They wanted him to marry her immediately and he had no choice not when they held his job, reputation, and life above him not when that woman too did the same with her connections and people behind the scenes. It was idiotic that he fell into her hands like this, no matter what he did she did not let go and sank her claws deep into his skin.

Richard wanted to know if this child was his, but there was no time when everybody demanded his and that woman didn't give him a chance to check. Only to cry after the marriage that the child from miscarriage due to stress from his selfishness. Many blamed him even though he knew that she was lying this whole time but no matter what he said her crocodile tears worked far better than any explanation.

He was furious, angered by everything that happened but he wasn't allowed to do anything he wasn't allowed to break up with her. His life, everything that he worked for had turned to nothing by this woman. She could care less about love or something genuine and only cared about his money, demanding that he give her money to go shopping to buy expensive brand items and clothing while also going to parties and bars with her friends coming back home late leaving only a mess with how drunk she was.

Some days she would not come home at all and he assumed that she was with another man, as he didn't give in to her sexual demands even if they were husband and wife. At this point, the idea of touching her body even her hand disgusted him.

He thought he lost everything, he felt hopeless when he could not break up with that woman who made sure that he could not have a divorce without destroying his reputation and paying her a huge amount of cash. She was insane.

Rather than be with her he would rather drown in his work in his office. The house smelled like her strong perfume that could only make his head hurt the moment he took one whiff of it even though that woman wasn't even in the house having already left to head to the next new bar that opened up in the city.

That was his life, he genuinely thought that this was his ending, a story that didn't end so well, yet unable to change anything with knives around his neck daring him to move. But in the end, nothing is concrete, sometimes all it takes is helping an old lady who just so happens to be a fortune teller. 

Typing away at his computer late at night in his office as he looked at the time, his thoughts could not help but let his thoughts drift for a moment. Richard closed his eyes slightly burning from looking at the laptop for too long. Leaning his chair, he pulled his tie down a little as he thought about this afternoon when he helped out a poor fortune teller the old woman after picking some stuff up at the market, who looked to be in her 80s stuck outside homeless and struggling to open her shop. As she had dropped something that had rolled towards him he picked it up and gave it to the old lady. He didn't know what moved him to help her. But as a present, he had gotten a small viel.

"Thank you for your help. You are quite the hard worker." The old woman said, sitting on the chair when everything was finally set up. She looked at him with a sly smile on her face. The old woman he later realized had a way of speaking, that wasn't normal. Weird yet at the same time sharp... too sharp. “Too bad you are stuck with such a mean spirit woman. How you handle such a woman for so long now… I am impressed.” Sharp as in she knew too much than he would have liked for a stranger to know.

"Buahahaha, don't worry boy this would be the last you would ever hear from me after this." The old woman laughed at his stiff glare. He didn't know how she did it but she seemed to know a lot about his relationship with his wife and the trouble that he was in yet at the same time she had a knack for poking at his sore spots. 

Before Richard could think about calling the police she suddenly pulled out a vial inside containing a blue liquid, "You help me with my little trouble so I want to give you a little something, that could help you with your own little trouble. Besides, I couldn't resist helping someone in need.” 

“A little swap potion, let your wife and your sweetheart drink it and they will swap at the start of the next day. The lil spell would wear off in a month but if there is nothing to return to… well then that means nothing could even happen. Dont yah think so boy? Haha!” He took the vial from the lady, thinking about throwing it when she was nowhere in sight. The creepy grin didn't match her so-called kind action, but she was not finished with talking.

“You better move fast my boy, that woman will make sure you will be dead before a year. It is very easy to hide evidence with a car crash.”

After that, it was difficult to throw the thin vial. Part of him could not drop the liquid into the bin, so he stored it on his office desk, locked but with a key, along with other important documents and such.

"Richard!! Why did you not show up at the dinner party?! Do you know how much embarrassment you have caused me?" his wife screamed. He couldn't help but groan in annoyance the moment he walked through the entrance. It was too early in the morning for such screaming, but she just continued on and on: "And why are you here now?!! It is the next day!? Explain yourself!"

"I don't need to explain myself to you at all." Walking past his wife who was glaring daggers at him. The more he learned about his wife the more he realized that she was similar to his parents, cared only about reputation, and was selfish putting themselves first before anything else. Hypocrites. "I had to finish up some work so I stayed at my office. I needed to finish all the file work before the meeting." Unlike a certain someone who would come home the next day afternoon after being in someone else's arms. 

Walking into his own home, he could not recognize it... everything was thrown about and trashed everywhere. Expensive decorations on the floor and shattered. Sofa and pillows ripped letting cotton spill from them. Walls wet and dirty with glass cups, and pots of plants shattered on the floor. Looking at everything he kept his anger internally holding everything in as he continued to walk towards his office and bedroom locked with a key.

This wasn't the first time this happened, he had found out that there was no use to teaching someone who saw no reason to change her ways. He just needs to call in some cleaners, replace the things that broke and that was it.

Heading to his home office to place his bag on the table he suddenly received a text on his phone. Pulling out the device to check who it was while the woman continued to scream at him.

"That doesn't explain why you didn't tell me you couldn't join the dinner!" It was because she wouldn't listen, no matter what. If he had told her, she would have either demanded that he come or screamed at him—first on the phone, then again when he got home. "Answer your phone when I call! Are you even listening to me?!"

He knew of the calls and messages. She had been calling non-stop and texting for an hour since he didn't come to her friends' dinner. He just didn't care to answer and left it on mute to let him focus on his work. Looking at the sender he couldn't help but sigh.

"Hey, I am talking to you!" Her shrill screaming was mind-numbing as he got his clothes unable to stand her voice and would rather change elsewhere. "RICHARD!!!"

He quickly left the house and got into his car, ignoring the high-heeled shoe that was thrown at him—missing as it landed. Starting the engine, he drove off, tuning out her shouts.

It was past midnight, and he was alone on the road. No one else was in sight. As he waited at a red light, he pulled out his phone to check a message. It was from a "friend" he had made at university, inviting him to dinner the next day. The guy had always been friendly—or at least tried to be. He had the personality of a know-it-all, and while he didn’t care for him much, it seemed the guy had once considered them friends. That was until money and popularity got to his head.

The guy knew a lot and had multiple connections and friends, he was the one who helped him find a cleaner will to keep silent about everything that happened in the house after the housemaid quit due to his wife assuming that he and the maid had done something sexual in the bedroom. The woman was crying as her hair had been pulled and her face slapped by his wife.

He also had seen the lust in that friend's eyes whenever he looked at her. Even after the guy was married for over a year he still looked at another wife with lust, it was disgusting to Richard that his friend would do such a thing but as the guy had helped him with a few of his troubles he didn't just cut him away.

The message was an invite for a double date. Having just left his house and his furious wife behind (not that he would ever take her anywhere unless absolutely forced), he tried to decline, saying that his wife was a bit "busy."

[Dude, dont worry about it and just come then.]

[Won't it be awkward for your wife?]

[It doesn't matter she would just say that it is fine either way.]

[Don't leave me here with her. You have already talked with her either way it is not a problem anymore. ]

From what he remembered it seemed that it was an arranged marriage between the two. Something that was decided by their parents for the benefit of their companies. The guy absolutely hated the fact that he was pushed into this marriage and had nothing good to say about his wife but that was a goody two shoes and boring. "She lacks the wildness that I am looking for." The guy said he was drinking in a bar one time having called him to express his frustrations after an official meeting with her. "She probably doesn't know anything except how to clean dishes.”

"I would not leave the house with a babe like yours. How do you keep everything in your pants?" The guy asked too drunk from all the alcohol to be careful with his words. "You might like my fiance a lot with your uptight attitude and lack of fun. Maybe we should switch wives later. Hey, wanna wife swap one time? It would be fun~~."

He had ignored the very obvious lust in the guy’s eyes, choosing not to address it and instead steer the conversation elsewhere. In the end, between hiccups, the guy told him he’d introduce him to his future wife and insisted that he should come to the wedding.

A few days later, with the invitation in hand, he attended the wedding. There, he saw the guy’s wife—and he was absolutely floored.

It was just a moment. A fleeting glimpse. He caught sight of her for only a second, walking toward his friend across the hall. Through the open door of the bride's room, he saw her, and he froze.

She was stunning.

He could not believe that a woman like you would become the wife of the guy. He wanted to take a step back to see you again, yet when his wife called him he was forced to start walking again not wanting to cause a scene due to her fickle pride. 

After all, he could see you again on the walkway when the wedding starts.

But he didn't want to leave either way.

Seated on the husband's side as the music stopped hinting to the guest that it was about to start soon. He watched as his friend walked the aisle, knowing but not commenting on the dirty slutish look his wife was giving to the guy looking at him up and down and waiting for you to show up.

You arrived soon after, dressed elegantly and sophisticated holding bouquets of flowers. He noticed how pretty you were, your walk and movements were elegant and soft, a far cry to his wife who walked to call the men's attention dressed a little too revealing for the formal occasion.

Would he have married a woman like you if this wench hadn’t come to destroy his life? Would he have married you if your parents and your friend’s family hadn’t forced the two of you into it? If this wasn’t some kind of mask, and this really was you, he wouldn’t have any complaints about being stuck with you. In fact, he would have demanded it—forced it, if he could. But that wasn’t how life turned out... You were not his.

The wedding soon came to an end and that was it. Legally you were tied to his friend while he was already stuck with his own problems. It wasn't fair. He just couldn't let it go as he stayed in his seat even after the end of the wedding speech as everybody started to leave to eat and dance. While his wife went to meet up with the groom he stayed where he was just thinking.

How surprised he was that he ended up meeting you so soon.

The guy had invited him to dinner a few times and he quickly understood that it was to have someone else in the group after the guy was forced by his parents to take you out a few times. But that didn't matter to him when he was finally able to talk to you, to chat with you.

When he reached the restaurant, the guy stood up after a small conversation, stating that he needed to run to the bathroom, take a call, or use some other excuse he had up his sleeve. He left the table for as long as possible only to come back near the end with maybe a lipstick on his shirt or something. And if Richard’s wife was there, the guy would start subtlety flirting with his wife, uncaring if he or his own wife was there, not that the woman herself cared.

He pitied you, as you kept on your smile even when your eyes swirled with an understanding of your place, yet at the same time, you were still so hurt. You were silent for the most part keeping to yourself.

You and he become rather close but not really, it was a kind of comradery of your situations or that was what he would like to think. Whenever you and him were left alone, rather than keep the awkward air around he would start to talk to you.

You were a little flustered at first but slowly you started to get used to talking with him. Chatting amicably as if enjoying the conversation between you and him. He also did enjoy conversing with you. No heavy topics, it wasn't business or anything to do with work but stuff like traveling, hobbies, and favorite food. The things that you would like to do if you only had the time or chance to do them. 

You weren't loud but you were delicate, gentle, and easy to fluster too. You were polite and careful with your words but also curious asking him many questions when he talks about his own stories. You would keep all your attention on him, even if he noticed you didn't seem maybe that interested in a topic or two.

There was one time he went to your apartment, an invitation from your husband who invited him and his wife. Your place was in a high-end apartment probably paid by the family, with decorations that were chic and modern but there was also a homely feeling to the place, cleaned and cared for with love, unlike his messed up house. The smell of the house was similar to that of a fragrant laundry detergent instead of strong perfume. Just for a moment, he realized that you were the one who did all this when he saw you coming out from the kitchen unwrapping the apron you were wearing.

Just for a moment you gave him an actual vision of a home, a vision of what he wanted so much and could have had yet was taken away from him. You gave him a vision of what it would be like to have a wife who cares so much. 

He could not help but crumble and fall.

He started to crave for you, the more he chatted with you the more he fell every night he fantasized about you in his arms. He wished... he craved for you so much that he thought he started having delusions that you were his. At night, he couldn’t close his eyes without seeing you clearly in the darkness.

But you just had to break everything, you just had to slam a hammer to his dreams and fantasies just like everyone else.

"I'm sorry," you said, a sorrowful smile on your lips. "I know my husband is using you to get out of our date. I apologize for taking up your time when you're so busy. Please, I’ll make sure this doesn't happen again. You don’t have to come every time he asks you to. I’m sure you’re busy too."

Why...? Why did you say that? He thought you knew that he already understood. He thought you knew that it didn’t bother him at all—especially when you both always had such enjoyable conversations. Why did you apologize? Why would you tell him to stop coming? Why were you pushing him away?

Your eyes looked at him in sorry and guilt and it clicked you were scared you were so scared that something wrong might happen. Because in the end, you were loyal, loyal to a man who didn't even love you.

It made him livid. 

Even if you thought you knew more than he did, he was the one who knew more. He knew well what your husband does on nights that he isn't home, where he goes, and what he does there. In Richard’s own house, he could hear the sounds of two people with familiar voices thinking they were alone. 

His wife and your husband.

You didn't know that, while you probably knew that he partied every day you seemed to have hope that he didn't have the audacity to lay in bed with another married woman much less the wife of his own friend. He didn't care who that guy lay with, but it made him irritated that a guy like him had you.

That appointment ended up awkward. Too awkward as both of you waited for your husband to arrive. The guy knew something was up the moment he arrived but seemed to choose not to say anything having enough tack not to right at that moment when he usually didn't.

Looking at the message again he sighed declining the invite again even when the guy tried to put up a fuss. It was just that he could not face you right now, not when you made it clear that all you felt towards him was guilt.

If only it was you... if only he had found you first if that woman didn't chain herself to him using blackmail and connections.

If he could just swap his wife with you he would have been happier... he would have the life he wished he had and he would spoil you with all his love and time. While you would wait oh so lovingly for him while cooking and cleaning while he worked to bring the money to keep you happy materially. He would be a better husband than your own and he already knew that you would be a far more better wife than his own.

But you just had to draw that line. That line of law and morality.

Watching the road as he drove, he could not help but let annoyance fester him at this whole situation till he saw a poster pass by him. Purple with a familiar design that he saw just this morning. Something to do with a certain fortune teller who knew a little too much and who gave him a small vial.

Truthfully he didn't believe in such things, but part of him had become so desperate that he just could not think straight. He was desperate and he knew that the old woman knew that and was laughing at him for it.

"Here yah go. This is a little something that would have cost a shit ton but I am gonna give it to you for free." The old woman cackled, she was having way too much fun knowing his situation. "If you plan to add this to a drink don't worry about the colour at all."

He didn't believe in such things. But there was a whisper in his mind a little spell in his brain that told him that this would work. That there was something different about that mad woman who probably lived only in entertainment.

His hand moved before he could even think about it, accepting the dinner invitation as he finally reached his office. It was supposed to be closed, but a few employees were pulling an all-nighter, so the building wasn't locked. In his mind, all he could think about was the life he once dreamed of—the life that had been taken away from him. All he wanted was a life with you, and that thing—that vial—would be the answer to all his problems.

[grimmsbride]

LOVERS ROCK [ daisuke / reader ]

keeping your relationship a secret from your coworkers was no doubt; thrilling. and also, very, very challenging. it didn’t help the two of you just loved to push your limits

tags / ooc characters | semi-public sex (everyone is asleep but still) | reader & daisuke are slightly inexperienced | soft-top daisuke | mentions of marks | cowgirl | dry humping | porn with little plot | they fuck with earbuds in | mentions of the other crew members | fluffy at the beginning | pre-established relationship | sex under the stars.. | pre-crash | chubby & poc coded reader (but anyone is free to read) | i don’t know the exact time period but modern music is mentioned | you guys love holding hands | etc.

notes / #bringbackdryhumping | reader is the same janitor reader in my previous fic (obviously). i got this idea randomly, daisuke seems like the type to take his partner to scenic places for dates. and well.. the nighttime screen is about as scenic as it gets on the tulpar. i hope you enjoy and as usual please excuse any grammar mistakes or typos 🫶🏾. i feel i made him very ooc, i’m used to see daisuke smut being quite submissive to the reader so i wanted to go a different approach.. i think in situations like this he may be a little more confident, especially if his partner is reciprocating to the feeling. if you have any thoughts on the manner let me know <3

The Tulpar was filled with mundane tasks. Wake up, clean, eat, shower, and go back to sleep— a routine that’s been ingrained into your body. A continuous cycle that would have bored you to death without your beloved music. You were grateful for your position, no matter how minuscule, yet you couldn’t deny the wish for something more.

And luckily it came true; in the form of a young man nonetheless.

You weren’t one to mix business and pleasure, it just seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. Coming across Tulpar and the demographic you expected to be on the ship — older people that certainly weren’t your type — you were quite confident you wouldn’t go against your usual code. But alas, you surprised yourself while falling for a certain intern.

As bright eyed and slightly clueless he was, Daisuke was a pocket of sunshine you’ve come to truly adore. Always there when he can be, even if it means a quick kiss when you’re cleaning or a gentle pinch when passing by to remind you of who was in your corner.

Keeping your growing relationship a secret from your coworkers was troublesome but extremely necessary. You couldn’t imagine the expressions the others would display, especially Jimmy who just seemed to be far too eager to stomp on just about anyone's happiness; no matter the size.

Still, you couldn’t deny how thrilling it was at times. Pulling your partner into a quiet dark corner for a few extra kisses, or the secret looks the two of you gave each when in a public setting. The line was thinning longer and longer, close calls increasing as time passed.

And yet here you were, seated upon the living room couch; waiting for your beloved Daisuke.

Usually if the two of you wanted alone time when everyone was asleep you alternated between your bedrooms. At least there, there was a door and bed. But for some reason, Daisuke was adamant on spending some time out here; underneath the pretty nighttime screen.

Your eyes stared up at the blues and whites, head leaning back against the shoulder of the couch as music poured into your ears. Your thumb traced the little device, perfectly at ease.

That was until something delicately traced the back of your neck.

You swallowed a yelp, quickly turning with a jump to glare at the one responsible— who only grinned back at you.

“Daisuke! What if I had yelled?”

You stood up from the couch, watching the man walk around the before waltzing down the little steps. Within two strides he was standing in front of you, glancing down at you with the sweetest smile.

“But you didn't!” Daisuke chuckled the moment you lightly shoved his chest, catching your wrist in time before you could move it away. In doing so, he locked your fingers whilst his free hand went for the earbud occupying one of your ears. Pulling it out, the man then lifted it to his own, bringing himself closer to your form.

You met him, unoccupied hand sliding up to wrap your arm around his waist, laying your head against his chest. Between the melody of his heart beat and Tv Girl running through your ears, you were at complete bliss. As if you could fall asleep right then and there.

The two of you swayed, allowing yourselves to get caught up in each other rather than your surroundings. You felt his free hand sneak underneath your arm, pulling it higher until your hand was on top of his shoulder. After which, Daisuke’s hand found your waist, tugging you even closer and actually adding moves to your swaying.

You snorted softly, mumbling softly about him being corny to which the man only laughed. Silence continued after as the two of you danced slowly, carefully, as to hopefully not alert the others of your rather embarrassing nightly activities.

A step, another, and then a graceful stride. You wondered if Daisuke danced a lot back home. The thought caused you to laugh once again, just in time for your lover to twirl you.

Slithering his arm tighter around your waist, he pulled your back to his front, face being shoved into your neck.

Your eyes peeled open, staring up at the nighttime screen that stared back at you. “Dancing under the stars, huh?..”

“A perfect date.”

You smiled at his words, hand rose to reach back and lightly fuss with his hair. “Yeah, all girls love dancing at work while watching a blown up image of a fake sky.”

Daisuke laughed into your ear, the pitch perfectly going along with the music you shared.

“I told my dad I knew what the ladies wanted.”

You groaned softly, teetering between amusement and playful annoyance. You turned around in his hold, hands rising to hold his warm cheeks.

“You’re corny..”

Daisuke smiled, thumb tracing the small of your back, messing with the fabric of the top you wore. “And lucky for me, you’re into it.” You didn’t need to agree nor deny, given the sweet kiss you pressed to his lips was answer enough. He kneeled to meet you fully, tugging you so close as if wishing to melt into you. Your noses brushed against each other, cold tips warming as you consumed one another. You loved kissing Daisuke, not just because he was your boyfriend but more-so cause he was a damned good kisser.

His lips always moved so slow at first, before slowly picking up the longer you continued. A hand rose from your back to instead cup the back of your head, a shiver running down your spine the moment his fingers traced up your scalp; messing in your hair.

So desperate.. you two always were. The thought of any interruptions spurred you on to always savor each and every moment with as much as passion as possible.

And it seemed the both of you intended to do just that, as — ever so carefully — Daisuke walked backwards, leading you with him. Once close enough he was descending to the couch, taking you with him by the waist and pulling you onto his lap.

The two of you broke apart for a moment, gulping up the air around you greedily before smashing your lips together with even more vigor. Your hands were clutching his shoulders at this point, suddenly being reminded Daisuke wasn’t just some clueless man.

You shivered as you felt his hand glide, intruding your top to lay his fingers upon your warm skin. With each interlock of your tongues his fingers were digging into your flesh, a soft whine being pushed from his throat into your mouth. The sound alone caused your thighs to clench, moving carefully in his lap.

Which of course, was met with a hiss and a quick squeeze. You questioned this for a moment, before quickly realizing why it happened in the first place.

This only caused you to smile against him, lowering your hips fully before dragging them against him slowly.

Daisuke was off your lips in minutes, hands falling to your waist as a hushed groan escaped his bruised lips.

“Here?..” The man spoke gently, eyes flicking from between your bodies before back to your face. His eyebrows furrowed as you continued your languid drags, biting the inside of his cheek nervously.

You nodded slowly, leaning closer to press your lips to his ear. “Mhm.. here.”

“Then.. I want to feel— more. Please.” His words were sweet, allowing them to settle in the air for a moment before his fingers were curling to tug at your pants, allowing you to get the message. You stood up rather quickly, pushing your pants down and off, the bottoms pooling at your ankles.

You watched as Daisuke did the same, now only in plain boxers, a funny contrast to the gaudy everyday shirt he usually wore.

Stepping out of your pants, you caught his hands as you made your way back to his lap, brushing your clothed cunt right against his growing bulge as you sat down. It was your time to whine as you felt him through your thin fabrics, Daisuke capturing your lips rather quickly afterwards.

Slowly, you began that same languid pace, gripping his shoulders for stability as you dragged your hips back and forth.. back and forth. His nails were digging into your thighs, meeting your movement with a small, desperate thrust. Moans passed between the two of you, warmth, and music mixing into a sensation that you could only describe as euphoria.

Dramatic sure, but what else could you call it, exactly?

“Could come.. ju—just from this.” Daisuke mumbled the moment the two of you broke apart for air, his face falling to your neck to stamp wet kisses to your skin. He was gentle not to focus too much on a single area, worrying about leaving behind a mark. Though, it seemed rather contradictory given the location the two of you chose for your.. fun.

You were aching, panties surely soaked with arousal as that itch grew. You could only pant in his ear, unsure how exactly this felt so good. Maybe it was pent up, a mixture of stress and the misfortune of lack of alone time. Regardless, it wasn’t your job to figure it out at the moment.

The only job you had right now was to continue to chase this feeling, for as long as you could.

Daisuke pulled you closer if humanly possible, hips rising up from the couch as he ground up into you. He wasn’t lying early, despite zero actual contact he could feel himself twitching— begging for release. The effect you had on him was far too great, after all.

Desperate breaths escaped you, thighs shaky yet yearning for more. His touch, everything, you wanted to feel it all. Your fingers rose to curl into his hair, leaning into his ear as the softest more, dropped from your tongue.

Your words spurred him, fingers squeezing your flesh, nails tracing against those pretty marks that lined your hips.

“You want more?.. Of course, whatever you want.”

Daisuke could never deny you, no matter how small the request was. In minutes he was tugging his boxers down to his thighs, hand lazily dragging across his length. It was a pretty color, lighter than him, with a mole on the under side of his shaft.

The man then reached with his other hand to curl his finger on your panty, tugging it to the side and exposing your soft cunt to his hand. For a moment his finger gently circled your hardened bud, enjoy the pleasant noises you struggled to keep down.

But soon enough he was becoming as desperate as you, helping you position carefully, rubbing his weeping tip against your clit. Daisuke hissed, continuing to coat his dick in your arousal before finding your entrance, lining up, and raising his hips to push himself inside.

The both of you groaned, your eyes pinched closed as you sunk down. Your walls wrapped around his length perfectly, swallowing him up and keeping him deep inside. With each breath you released you clenched, causing the young man under you to struggle to keep his mind straight. Daisuke couldn’t help being so inexperienced, and well.. neither could you, given you felt a single movement would be enough to push you over the edge.

Your eyes slowly opened, gaze falling to his face, taking the time to map out his expression. Would it be corny to call him beautiful? Was it corny to find your lover beautiful in a such state? Under your mercy, as close as biologically possible? Maybe.. but you didn’t dwell on it long, instead deciding to graze your palms across his cheeks, thumbs coming to trace the moles on either side.

“I love you.”

Your words were earnest, laced with the sweetest honey. You smiled, watching his own signature smile cross his face, perfectly. Like any other time.

Daisuke pulled you even closer, a grip to your thigh as he leaned to just a breath’s away.

“See. Now you’re the corny one.”

Your lover swallowed the pretty laughter threatening to leave your chest, all smiles as his arms wrapped around your waist. Once tucked close and snug, his hips, the small thrust enough for the both of you to sigh into the other’s mouth.

Soon enough your knees were pressing against the cushions, hips rising and falling into his lap. With each drop, wet skin smacked against each other, certainly a worrying sound but the two of you seemed to no longer care.

You were too caught up in each other anyway.

Your fingers curled into his silky locks, crying out into his mouth as he stirred you up deeply. His length hit each spot perfectly, a mold made specifically for you. And what’s more, the moment a hand snaked under your skirt to drag his thumb across your nipple— you began to see stars.

Daisuke groaned into you, meeting each drop of your hips with desperate thrusts. You felt so good, way too good. He tried to keep his voice down as to avoid alerting the others, and hear you. You just sounded far too good to ignore.

Your shaky breaths, the way your voice pitched whenever his tip brushed against that special spot — don’t even get him started on the gasps you made when Daisuke went, just a little too deep. Alas he couldn’t focus on the growing list of reasons for his obsession you; bringing you complete pleasure was the main objective.

“You’re clenching me.. you’re going to come, aren’t you?” Daisuke drawled against your lips, pressing a kiss to them before dragging his own over to your ear. Each pant and groan hit it directly, the man at this point helping you rise and fall upon his cock.

“I want you to finish.. all over me.”

“Daisuke—!”

“Not so loud..” The intern spoke in a soft rasp, squeezing you close as his end grew closer. “I don’t need the others to hear you like this. It’s on—only for me, yeah?”

You shook your head rapidly, lip nearly bleeding from how hard you were biting down, your fingers digging into his shoulders— sure to leaves marks despite the shirt he wore.

Within moments you were seeing white, clutching him as you fulfilled his wish. Your arousal coated his dick and thighs, making a sticky mess that was surely on the couch by now.

Daisuke swore under his breath, bringing you onto his lap in one final thrust before filling you up. Luckily he remembered you took the pill as to regulate your period.

The two of you panted, in sync with each other and the music that seemed to still be blasting in your ears. How exactly your earbuds sustained that erratic movement, you will never know nor question.

You pulled back to glance at Daisuke, spotting the man already looking at you, smiling brightly.

You rolled your eyes, glancing down at the space between your two bodies.

“This is going to be so annoying to clean.”

Daisuke stifled his laughter, pulling you into a tight hug, eyes shining whilst he stared up at the screen;

“Maybe… I love you too, [Name].”

[supernotnatural2005]

'Ride em' Cowgirl'

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY, swearing, fluff.

AN: Here it is, the requested part 2 of my 'Giddy up Cowboy' Drabble. I'm blown away by all of the love and support on my work lately and had to give you something tasteful in return for all your lovely appreciation. I hope you enjoy ☺️

Tagging: @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog and @rizlowwritessortof

Main Masterlist

The ride back to the motel feels like an eternity. The engine of the Impala hums beneath you, a comforting sound you’ve grown used to over the past few months of hunting with the Winchesters. But tonight, that familiar hum does little to calm the storm that’s building in the air between you and Dean.

Sam sits in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of the electricity crackling in the space between you and his older brother. His head is turned slightly, eyes focused on his phone as he scrolls through something, probably researching the next hunt. He’s completely oblivious, lost in his world, but you and Dean? You're both caught up in something far more dangerous.

You shift in your seat, the leather of the Impala's interior squeaking slightly beneath you, but it’s nothing compared to the way your body is reacting to the proximity of Dean, to the memory of the words you said back at the bar. "I think I can ride him better." The double meaning of the comment, the tease that you’d laid on him, was still hanging heavily in the air.

You glance at him, his profile visible from the corner of your eye. His jaw is tight, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little too hard, and you can’t help but notice the way his bicep flexes with the tension. The urge to reach over and touch him, to bridge that last bit of space between you, is almost overwhelming.

Sam’s voice pulls you from your thoughts as he glances over his shoulder, a slight grin on his face. “You two are awfully quiet. You sure everything’s alright?”

Dean clears his throat, his voice low, a little too steady. “Yeah, we’re fine, Sammy. Just tired.”

Sam nods, not catching the edge in his brother’s voice, and goes back to whatever he’s reading on his phone. You, however, catch the way Dean’s eyes flicker to you—a brief glance, but enough to make your pulse quicken. You feel that familiar heat rise between you both, the kind that only the two of you understand.

Every mile feels like it stretches on forever. You catch Dean’s gaze again, and this time, his eyes linger a little longer, something raw and unspoken in them. You know he’s struggling to keep his composure, just as you are.

Finally, the motel comes into view. The neon lights of the sign flicker, the soft hum of the parking lot filling the quiet car. Sam lets out a loud yawn and stretches, oblivious to the way the tension between you and Dean has reached its breaking point.

“Man, I’m pretty beat.” Sam says, giving you both a tired smile as he climbs out of the car. You and Dean follow suit, both of you stepping out with a quiet but unmistakable urgency.

Dean’s hand brushes against yours as he walks you to your room—just a few doors before his and Sam’s, and it’s enough to send a shiver down your spine. You both stand there for a moment, looking at your motel room door in front of you, the unspoken weight of everything you've both been avoiding for so long finally sinking in. 

Sam walks on ahead, muttering something about needing to “hit the hay,” and you both watch as he disappears into the room before Dean turns to you, his voice low and controlled. 

"You weren’t kidding earlier, huh?”

"No," you say, your voice just above a whisper, because you can’t take it anymore, and it’s enough to send the heat between you two spiralling. "I wasn’t.”

Dean doesn’t need any more encouragement. He moves first, closing the distance between you two with a single, decisive step. His lips crash against yours, hard and desperate—like he’s been holding back everything he’s been feeling for far too long. 

His mouth is warm and insistent, and you open up to him instinctively, your hands finding their way to the open fabric of his flannel, pulling him even closer. 

You moan into the kiss, clinging to him as if he were your last source of oxygen. Consuming what he was willing to give as long as he was willing to give it. Dean’s hands slide down to your hips, gripping hard enough to leave small fingerprint indents when your tongue slides past his lips. His responding groan is low, bordering on a growl, and he walks you back against your door, his hands unable to stay in one place for too long. 

His touch, his scent, and his delectable mouth were quickly descending you into a state of ecstasy. You were already hooked and desperate for more. 

“Inside.” You mumble against his lips, and he offers you a curt nod before he breaks the kiss, allowing you a moment to breathe as you turn to unlock your door. He’s already pressing himself against you from behind, his hands wandering from your hips to boldly cupping your breasts over your thin t-shirt, beneath your jacket.

It takes you until your third try before you finally stumble inside. Dean quick to kick the door shut with his foot as he ravishes your neck with wet kisses and thumbs at your pebbled nipples poking through your lace bra, risen from both his ministrations and the cool air.

You push back against him and gasp at the feel of his obvious arousal through his jeans. His reaction to you sent a thrill of excitement through you as well as a feeling of pride swelling in your chest. 

"Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. Wanted you.” Dean pants into your neck as you roll your hips against him. He presses into you with each roll, making his eyes roll back and his hands move to find purchase on your hips again. 

“I think I have some notion.” You quip with one last push back against him before turning in his arms. You offer him a sly smile and look up at him through your lashes as you trail and hand down his firm chest and over his toned stomach before cupping him through his jeans. His hips instinctively thrust into your palm, and you grant him some relief by adding pressure and rubbing your hand along his length. 

His gaze is stormy as he looks down at you, watching you watch your own hand grope him in wonder. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. Suddenly, he pulls your hand from him, the feeling both incredible yet frustratingly not enough, and you look up at him in question, but he’s quick to reclaim your lips again. 

The urgency from before is back with a vengeance as you claw at each other’s clothes, peeling away layers upon layers between heated kisses, until finally, you’re left in nothing but your panties, and Dean in his boxers. 

His gaze roams over you unapologetically, taking in every curve and scar; your heaving breasts on display with a hunger you’d never seen in another man's eyes before. But there was more behind his desire. There was a look of longing, of wanting this for so long and finally having it, simmering within those pools of green. And you understood. Because you felt the exact same. 

As if in sync, you reached for one another again. Dean’s hands framed your face as he dipped down to kiss you again. This time softer, more tender, making you all but melt into his arms. He walked you backwards, never parting his lips from yours, until the backs of your thighs met the edge of the mattress. 

You pulled away from him then and climbed up onto the bed, with him quickly following, crawling up and over you like a predator stalking his prey. Your head fell back onto the pillows as his firm body covered yours, his mouth quickly attaching itself to your neck, kissing, sucking, and nibbling at the tender flesh until you were bucking your hips up against him. 

He smirks into your neck, loving the fact you were so reactive to him, even by the simplest of touches. He decides to give you some relief and trails his mouth down your body, stopping at your chest. He waited for you to look at him, his warm breath fanning over your perked nipple, and only when you finally meet his gaze does he wrap his lips around your pebbled nub. 

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, watching his eyes fall shut as he sucked and nibbled at your nipple. The sensation was almost overwhelming, and your hips ground for any kind of friction to relieve the building ache between your legs. Your hand slid into his hair, pulling harshly at the soft spikes atop his head, making him groan, and the vibration sent tiny shocks of pleasure throughout your nerve endings. 

He moves onto your other breast, the wetness of your abandoned nipple cooling against the air conditioning unit, softly buzzing in the background, the feeling only adding to the incredible pleasure his mouth was giving your other breast. 

“Fuck, Dean.” You gasp, just as his left hand trailed down your side and sneakily slipped into your panties. Two of his thick digits were quick to find your clit and you shuddered from the contact. He begins to circle your bundle of nerves slowly, much like the motion of his tongue against your nipple. 

You fist his hair again, moaning loudly as he dips an experimental finger into your soaked hole, gathering your wetness and resuming his attention back on your clit. 

“You’re so wet, baby.” He grunts against your chest, frowning in concentration as he picks up his pace. “That all for me?” All you could do was nod and then cry out as his fingers rubbed you faster, sending jolts of pleasure down to the tips of your toes, which soon curled as your body began to tense. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You repeated it like a mantra, the coil in your belly wound tight and ready to spring. 

“That’s it, baby. Cum all over my fingers.” He husks in your ear, and you look down your body, watching the muscles in his forearm dance with effort from the maddening pace of the hand buried deep in your underwear. The sight was your undoing, and your whole body stiffened. Mouth dropping open in a silent scream, the sound trapped in your throat as your body convulsed and shuddered against him. 

Dean’s hand began to slow with your descent into bliss, coming to a complete stop once you deflated back onto the mattress, completely boneless. 

“Holy shit.” You huffed with an incredulous chuckle because, holy shit. You’re not even sure you’d ever come so hard with your own hand. And if just his fingers could bring you so much pleasure, it left you wondering what else you were in store for. Although you didn’t have to wonder for much longer when Dean shifted beside you and you felt the straining press of his cock against your thigh. 

You turned to him and cupped his cheek with your right hand, pulling him into a slow and sensuous, grateful kiss. He hummed happily against your lips as you rolled him onto his back. His arms coming up to wrap around you, to keep you close as you took his breath away. 

With him distracted, you grasped his tented length, massaging him as best you could through the fabric of his boxers. He broke the kiss and dropped his head back against the pillows, eyes shut tight as you relieved some of the pressure. 

You smiled devilishly at him and rose to your knees beside him. He watched you in wonder as you peeled the last item of clothing from him, helping you by lifting his hips. Your eyes widened in both shock and amazement at the sight of him. Your mouth watered and pussy throbbed, desperate for a taste, for the feel of him inside you. 

You gathered him in your hand, relishing in the warm weight of his impressive cock. Dean released a deep sigh at the feel of your delicate hand slowly, teasingly pumping him. He was as hard as granite, throbbing in your hand, and you marvelled at the way your simple movements had him panting, wanting and desperate beneath you. 

Laying comfortably between his parted thighs, You ran your tongue along the length of him. The deep, responsive moan from him giving you the encouragement to do it again and again until he was slick with your saliva and fisting the sheets beneath him tight. 

“Holy.. shit.” Dean gasped as you took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his silky head before sinking your mouth onto him. The action brought with it a salty tang and a variety of praises and profanities. Between your legs, a new wave of wetness coated your already ruined underwear as you worked him over in your mouth and with your hand. 

Looking up at him, he was a sight to behold. His skin glistening, chest heaving, sinful lips parted, and eyes squeezed shut. He was beautiful in every scenario it seemed. 

“Oh God.” Dean’s eyes snapped open then, his body tensing, and he quickly sat up, pulling you from him. You looked at him alarmed, wiping at the spit collected at the corners of your mouth. 

“What? What’’s wrong?” You lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, waiting for him to take a few deep breaths before he released a breathless chuckle.

“You were about to make me cum.” He told you honestly, and you blushed a little, but wondered why he’d stopped you? 

“And?” You giggled softly, though squeaked, when he suddenly manhandled you into his lap. You had to bite back a groan at the feel of his hard length bumping against you through your panites. 

“And? I was promised a ride.” His voice is low and sultry, but his face is filled with his usual boyish, giddy excitement. You giggled and shook your head, realising you’d somehow fallen for a complete dork. 

You cup his scruffy cheeks in your palms and plant a warm kiss against his lips, the smiles on your faces quickly fading as your tongue swept against his, reigniting the ache between your legs and the need for more. 

You reluctantly pull away and slide off of him, removing and kicking away your underwear before climbing back onto him. He welcomes you eagerly, claiming your mouth once again with a kiss filled with passion and ignition. 

You slowly guide him onto his back and pull away breathless. His hands slide from your back to your hips as you sit up, grinning down at him. His green eyes look up at you, dark and entranced, roaming over every inch of you in amazement. 

You bite down on your lip as you settle against him, the wet seam of your pussy covering his length, making you both groan at the contact. You roll your hips experimentally, your head falling back as you steadied yourself against his firm stomach, picking up your pace until you were slick and ready. 

“Fuck sweetheart. You’re a dream.” Dean says breathlessly and with an honest gaze. You smirk down at him, slowing your roll, and he watches you. 

“I think it’s time I make do on that promise.” You tell him. “Think I can last the full 90 minutes?” You tease, and Dean chuckles, rubbing lovingly at your thighs, hips, and up your sides. 

“I have no doubts, baby.” 

In one swift movement, you rise up on your knees and grasp his length, angling him just right before you sink down onto him. Both of your mouths drop open in respective pleasure. You’re slick enough to take him most of the way, only rocking gently a few times until he’s fully sheathed. 

“Fuuck.” He moans, and it’s long and drawn out because Dean can’t quite fathom the feeling of you wrapped tightly around him. He’s been to heaven, hell, and everything in between, but this was something else entirely. The best pie he’d ever tasted, the feeling he got behind the wheel of baby—all things paling in comparison to this moment.

Once the initial stretch of him blurred from pain into pleasure, did you then rise up and slowly slide back down, gasping in almost disbelief at the incredible feel of him inside you. You repeated the movement again and again until you built up a steady rhythm, rocking, rolling, and grinding your hips to find the most intense spots of pleasure. 

All the while Dean let you ride him, watching in awe as you did in fact “ride him better." However, to give you a challenge, he bucked his hips up into you, meeting you thrust for thrust. You held on tightly, eyes rolling back at the much harsher thrusts hitting you just right, but you weren’t about to let him win. 

With one hand firmly planted on his chest, you leaned back, reaching your arm around to fondle his balls. Dean jolted in surprise but moaned deep and loud as you gently caressed them in your palm. You smiled in triumph as he relinquished his thrusts, and you sped up your movements, feeling his balls draw tight. 

“Oh, fuck, oh shit.” His words were breathless and strained as his body tensed, brow furrowing, hands gripping tight onto your hips as he came. Hard. You felt his warm seed coat your walls along with a long, deep groan as you circled your hips, milking every last drop. 

You grinned down at him as he collapsed back onto the bed, panting hard and weightless. You could feel him still twitching inside you, and you involuntary clenched at the sensation, making his head pop back up to look at you. 

His eyes were wild, his chest flushed red, and wordlessly he slid a hand over to your lower stomach, his thumb pressing against your sensitive clit, making you gasp. Dean’s eyes closed at the feeling of you clenching around him but began circling your clit with the digit, watching on in admiration as you slowly rocked your hips into his hand, chasing your own sweet release. 

Dean was a generous lover, but you’d given him a run for his money in that department tonight. It was only common curtesy he had you come again. Even if your pussy was all but strangling his sensitive cock, it felt incredible—a sensation he’d never felt before. He could feel himself hardening again at just the sight and feel of you, surprising you as much as himself. 

“Oh God.” You cried out, your walls fluttering around him as you ground into his hand, his thumb flicking against your clit, harder and faster until you were shaking above him. Then he thrust his hips up, once, twice, three times, and you were falling apart. Your body tensed and twitched above him, your mouth falling open in a silent cry as the white hot pleasure of your orgasm rippled through you.  

“Shit.” Your eyes popped open when you felt it. Warmth spread inside you for a second time as Dean cried out in painful pleasure. Holy shit was all that you could comprehend as he tensed beneath you. 

Shocked silence filled the room as you both stared at one another, catching your breaths, until a chuckle of disbelief slipped from his lips, triggering your own laughter.  

You fell onto his chest, letting his soft cock slip from you with a slight hiss from him. You soothed a hand a long his chest, planting a sweet kiss there before leaning up and coming face to face with him. 

"So, was I…Better?” You wondered curiously, whilst absently playing with his mused, sweat slicked hair. Dean grinned in response and cupped your jaw tenderly. 

"Oh, you so were." He replied before pulling your lips to his. 

AN: Okay so this one was just pure smut! 😂 but let me know what you think? Was this a good tie up for these two 👀

[motherismotheringggg]

Omg pleasure dom Nicky. His whining above you as his thrust get sloppier but god he just wants to please you. Won’t cum until you do 😫

completely unraveled 🖤

summary: see the request above, anon you ATE with this one!!

type: pleasure dom! nicholas x sub! female reader

tags/warnings: 18+, hella smutty, cock worship, ice play, oral (f! receiving), orgasm restraint, cream pie, slight blood drawn, cream pie, cock warning, aftercare

author’s note: i need a cold cigarette after this is 😮‍💨

word count: 2771

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

For Nicholas, your pleasure was everything—it consumed him, drove him, defined every touch, every kiss, and every movement of his body against yours. It wasn’t just about the act itself; it was about the journey he took you on every time you were together. He reveled in discovering the things that made you gasp, made your breath hitch, and sent shivers cascading down your spine.

Nicholas had an uncanny ability to read you, to anticipate your needs as if your body spoke a language only he understood. He could sense the smallest shifts in your reactions—the way your fingers gripped the sheets or the way your voice wavered when you whispered his name. He knew when to push, when to slow, and when to draw you to the brink and hold you there, teetering on the edge of ecstasy until you were begging for release.

For him, the ultimate reward wasn’t just your climax—it was the way your body melted into his afterward, utterly spent, and the glazed, euphoric fucked look in your eyes that made his heart swell with pride. His mission wasn’t just to make you cum; it was to take you to places you’d never dreamed of, over and over again, until every nerve in your body sang with satisfaction. When he was with you, his sole purpose was clear: to utterly and completely worship you, leaving you breathless, trembling, and blissfully undone in his arms.

————

Now, here you were back in your shared loft apartment with your boyfriend, sitting on the edge of the bed, your skin still humming from the aftershocks of the last round. The soft glow of the city lights filtered through the window, casting shadows across the room as you caught your breath. Nicholas came back from the kitchen, he had something in his hand but you couldn’t quite see it.

He stood in front of you, completely exposed. His cock, still red and throbbing, you went to fill your mouth with him. You loved the way he felt in your mouth, the perfectly rounded tip, and the perfect vainness of his shaft, you loved to worship his body.

To kiss down his body, planting soft kisses on each of his abs before taking him in your mouth. To kiss and bite on his thighs, tracing small circles on them until he slowly guided you to his member.

But he stopped you, he wanted to look at you. He took a moment to appreciate you, his eyes tracing the curve of your neck and the way your breath hitched in between each exhale. His gaze softened, the lust in his eyes replaced by something deeper, more intimate. You felt it too—the unspoken connection that tethered you both.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, his voice low and tender, just the slightest hint of concern mixed with the satisfied edge of a man who knew exactly what he’d just done to you. He wasn’t asking for reassurance; he wanted to know how deep he’d taken you, how far he could push you the next time.

You nodded, turning slightly to face him, your lips curving into a satisfied smile. "Thank you, Nicholas," you whispered, the words thick with affection and desire. He liked when you thanked him; when you made him feel as special as he made you. He reached down to cup your face, letting his thumb grace your bottom lip. “You’re so beautiful when you look at me like this…like need me”, he said as he glared at you, his eyes were dark with lust.

He leaned down to kiss you, grabbing your face in his hand as he had full control. The kiss started slow but grew into something deeper. Your tongues wrestled each other, before his slipped of your mouth and licked you. Licked your lips, licked your cheek, licked wherever he pleased. You were wrapped up in the euphoria of the kiss that you hadn’t see what he had in his hand from before.

It wasn’t until you felt the cold burn of an ice cube on your back, still covered in sweat and radiating heat from before. You let out a deep long hiss, falling into Nicholas as he continued to kiss on you. You were breathless, barely able to call out his name but still needing to let him know how good he felt,

“mmm Nicholas, that feels so good…”

“Is that right baby?”

“Yes Nicholas, I need you so bad”

“Tell me where you want me baby”

“Nicholas I --” you were cut short by Nicholas dropping to his knees, taking that same ice cube from your back, which had melted down some, and putting it in his mouth.

“Don't stop baby, tell me what you want”, he said, muffled with the ice cube slightly muffling him.

Nicholas leaned in, his cool lips with the ice cube brushing your clit, your back arched with sheer pleasure. Your pelvis instinctively shot backward, but Nicholas quickly wrapped his hands around you pulling you closer, as he continued.

The coolness was intoxicating, heightening every sensation, every nerve ending sparking to life under his touch. Your body trembled, shivers of pleasure wracking you as you grasped at his shoulders for stability.

You tried to pull away, but Nicholas wasn’t having it. His strong hands were on you, pulling you closer, keeping you in place as his lips continued to work you, the ice teasing and torturing you in the most delicious way.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he muttered, his breath warm against your skin as he kept you pressed against him, determined to make you beg for more.

The weight of his presence, the passion in his touch, was almost too much to bear. The ice and his lips worked in perfect harmony, sending you spiraling towards something that felt dangerously close to madness.

You couldn’t hold back any longer. "I want you, Nicholas," you gasped, barely able to form coherent words through the waves of pleasure flooding you. "I need your dick baby”, you whined and pouted, letting him know bad you craved him.

He kept going, he could tell you were close, the way your core squirmed under him, the way you thrashed about, the whimpering you tried to contain but failed miserably at. He knew you were right on the edge ready to to unravel and he wanted you to cum right there on his face.

“Nicholas … Nicholas please baby, please fuck me”, you whined out more, thighs clenched as your hips rode in rhythm with him. He didn’t let up once, when the ice cube completely melted, he worked at you with his tongue. The way he lapped at your wetness drove you crazy, every flick of his tongue had an individual hand in undoing you. When he sucked on your bud, you shuttered as your eyes rolled back into your head.

You knew Nicholas wanted you to hold out as long as possible. He reveled in it—how you could push yourself to the very edge, fighting the overwhelming wave of pleasure just to stay in control, just to tease him. He loved it. The way your body trembled, the way your breath hitched in anticipation, it drove him wild. He knew exactly when you were on the brink, when you couldn’t take it anymore, but you fought to keep from falling apart. The anticipation in your eyes, the way your muscles clenched—he lived for that moment.

And when you finally did let go, when you couldn’t hold it in any longer, when you surrendered completely to the pleasure, that’s when he felt it. The pride, the triumph of having taken you to that place, completely fucking you to your limit turned him on. The way you clung to him, your nails digging into his skin as you came undone, made him feel like the king of your world.

Your body quivered with the first wave of release, but Nicholas wasn’t done. He was relentless, his lips, his hands, his body all pushing you further, coaxing out every drop of pleasure, bringing you right back to the edge again and again. He wasn’t just content with one, not when he knew you could handle more.

You tried to hold on, but with each touch, each movement of his hands, it became impossible. The way he worked you, with such precision and care, the way he knew your body better than you did—it was overwhelming.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured, his voice low, as if he knew you were on the brink of breaking. And he was right. He always knew. “Don’t fight it.”

The heat between you two was undeniable, and as the second orgasm hit, more intense than the first, your body gave in completely, trembling uncontrollably against him. Nicholas held you close, steadying you as you went through the motions, his hands gentle but firm, the pride in his eyes showing just how much he loved every second of it.

As you came down from the high, his lips brushed over your thighs, soft and tender, contrasting the intensity of what had just happened. "You’re perfect," he whispered looking up at you with a dark lusty look. His eyes were huge and dilated., He moved up to you to hold you as you caught your breath. You had shifted up on the bed while he lay next to you, rubbing you and making sure you were okay. You had caught your breath enough to pull him in for a kiss, another deep and passionate one. You moaned into each other’s mouths as the kiss grew deeper.

Your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles beneath your fingertips. Nicholas, sensing the shift in the air, took the initiative. His hands moved to your sides, pulling you beneath him as he gently but firmly positioned himself on top of you.

He paused for a brief moment, pulling away slightly, his eyes dark with desire but also a hint of concern. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low, rough with barely-contained lust, his hand sliding down to massage your clit. He knew you wanted him, he just wanted to hear you whimper to say it.

You met his gaze, your chest rising and falling with deep breaths, your brows furrowing as you nodded. "Yes," you breathed out. "I need you so bad."

Nicholas didn’t need any more encouragement. He sat up, positioning himself above you as he adjusted to your entrance. With a slow, deliberate movement, he slipped inside, the feeling of your wetness guiding him in with ease.

The moment he entered you, you couldn’t contain the moan that escaped your lips. It was like an instinctual reaction to the depth and warmth of him filling you, your body instinctively arching toward him as your nails dug into his back.

Nicholas’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the feeling of being buried inside you. It wasn’t just about the act for him—it was about the way you responded, how you opened up to him in ways that made his heart race with a mixture of lust and tenderness. Your pleasure was his fuel, his every move driven by the need to make you feel as good as possible.

"God, you feel so good," he whispered, his voice rough and low. “So fucking wet and tight for me”, he continued, staying still for a moment, letting you adjust to the fullness of him inside you, his hands resting on either side of your body, holding himself up. The connection between you two was electric, both of you feeling the intensity of the moment, but Nicholas was waiting for you. He wanted to feel you tremble, wanted to see the pleasure flood your face.

He gave you a moment, but it wasn’t long before he couldn’t hold back any longer. Slowly, he started to grind, pulling back just enough before thrusting forward, the rhythm building as he sought out that perfect angle, the one that made your back arch and your breath hitch, knowing he was touching your cervix from how big he was.

His eyes locked with yours, watching every shift of your body, the way you reacted to each stroke. Every thrust of his hips was calculated to bring you closer to that peak, and with each movement, your moans grew louder, more desperate. The tension between you both was almost unbearable as he pushed you closer to the edge, but you were holding out for him—just like you always did.

Knowing what he wanted, you were holding out for him. Your body belonged to Nicholas, for him to play with and orchestrate an orgasm from you that almost brought you to tears.

Nicholas could see it in your eyes. You were so close, so close to breaking, but you held on. Your body quivered beneath him, straining against the delicious pressure building inside you. He knew you well enough to understand that you enjoyed the struggle—the way it felt to be pushed to your absolute limit, to be on the edge of complete surrender, all for him.

Your lip was swollen from how hard you were biting it, the ache in your chest growing with each thrust. Your nails had drawn blood from Nicholas’s back as you dug into him, the sting of your pleasure matching the heat coursing through your veins.

"Let me know when you're ready to cum, baby," Nicholas whispered hoarsely, his voice strained with his own restraint. His hair was floppy and slightly saturated with sweat, hanging messily over his face as he held himself above you, never once breaking the rhythm of his thrusts. The sight of him—wild and consumed by you—was almost too much to handle.

You tried to hold on a little longer, wanting to make him wait, but his relentless pace was beginning to unravel you, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge. You could feel yourself tightening around him, the warmth pooling in your stomach as you fought to stay just a little longer.

Nicholas’s hands gripped your hips tighter, his breaths growing shallow, each one a little more ragged as he became more desperate. He could tell you were close—he always could—but the need to hear you fall apart before he did had him on the edge of his own control.

"Baby, please..." His voice was softer now, almost whiny, as his hips faltered for a split second. "Let go for me... I need to see you cum. Please." The desperation in his words only spurred you on, pushing you to the brink.

His thrusts started to get sloppier, less controlled, as if he was teetering on the edge himself. The wet sound of his cock slamming in and out of your wetness grew louder, the intensity in his eyes matching the frenzy in his movements. "I can’t... I can't wait, baby," he muttered, voice broken as he pulled you closer, pressing into you deeper, harder. His cock slid into you with an urgency that matched the mounting tension, his pace erratic but still aimed at pushing you toward your climax.

You couldn’t hold back any longer. With a sharp gasp, your body finally surrendered, the pleasure bursting through you in waves. Your back arched off the bed, your nails dragging down his back even more as the orgasm hit you, intense and overwhelming.

Nicholas's eyes locked on you, his jaw tightening as he felt you clench around him, riding out your release. He gave one last desperate thrust, whining as the pressure finally broke inside him. "Fuck," he groaned, his movements sloppy and erratic as he spilled into you, his body shuddering with his own orgasm.

He collapsed on top of you, his body trembling as he held you close, both of you still panting for air. His head rested on your chest as he tried to catch his breath, and you could feel the thumping of his heart against your skin, while he was still throbbing inside of you.

"You’re so perfect for me baby” he murmured between breaths, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone. "You were made for me"

You ran your fingers through his damp hair, gently soothing him as he slowly regained his composure. The bond between you two, unspoken but felt, lingered in the air, heavy and undeniable. Nicholas had given everything to make sure you were satisfied, and in that moment, as you both lay tangled in each other’s arms, you knew he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[dylsluvrs]

ryomen sukuna x reader | college au [18+]

touchdown ch.1 ryomen sukuna wants to send you a message!

ᡣ𐭩 pairing. football player! sukuna x journalism major! reader

ᡣ𐭩 summary. ryomen sukuna. your best friend’s frat brother. he’s tall, hot, suave, not to mention the best thing to happen to college football since…well, ever. he’s in a world completely different to your own. while he spends his nights partying and racking up his body count, you spend your nights reading and racking up your word count. but when the two of you decide to come to a mutually beneficial agreement, you realise you aren’t so different after all.

ᡣ𐭩 warnings/tags. 18+. fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, alcohol consumption, weed consumption, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, fake dating, opposites attract, acquaintances to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, sukuna being an asshole, best friend gojo.

ᡣ𐭩 chapter. 1/?

ᡣ𐭩 word count.

ᡣ𐭩 a/n. hello readers! welcome to the first chapter of touchdown!! i hope you’re all having a great week so far! fake dating has forever been one of my favourite tropes ugh the angst opportunities make me feral. this will be a sort of slow chapter as we introduce everything, but i hope you enjoy it!!

nav. masterlist

|| 3:24AM Ryomen Sukuna wants to send you a message

You flinch as your phone buzzes beside you, interrupting your disassociated reading of ‘the fundamentals of journalism’. You opted to ignore the buzz, focusing back in on the page you’d been trying to read for the past fifteen minutes. Your eyes would finally reach the bottom of the page, only to flit back up to the top because you simply couldn’t grasp what you’d been doing wrong. Your research had come to a halt, the football team flat out refusing to be interviewed by you. You knew how you were, how invasive your questions could be, but these were boys who bragged about their conquests to anyone who would listen, embarrassment should not be in their vocabulary.

Another buzz sounded. Then another. And another. You sighed, dog-earring the page and picking your phone up. A request for an instagram dm, and four texts from satoru.

|| Toru🤍: y/n, baby. please kindly look at your instagram dms.

|| Toru🤍: i know you’re not sleeping, check them right now.

|| Toru🤍: sukuna’s trying to dm you can you just answer him pls??

|| Toru🤍: he’s punching me PLEASE read the dm before he damages the money maker too much

You groaned. Ryomen Sukuna. Quite possibly the biggest slut on campus. You’d heard all the stories from Satoru about how Sukuna was making it his mission to fuck every sorority girl from your university. Eugh. You were so thankful that you chose to opt out of the sorority life. But, you loved Satoru, and he loved his face being intact, so over to instagram it was.

|| Ryomen Sukuna: Need a favour, princess.

You’d known Satoru since birth, practically being forced into an arranged friendship by your parents and you kinda happened to like his company. You met the rest of the football team when he inevitably joined a frat. Consisting of only the football team. You were friendly with most of them, probably Suguru most of all. The only one who never really warmed to you was Sukuna. You knew him well enough to know he accepted the extra meal preps you left for the rest of the boys whenever you cooked for Satoru, and that his room directly faced Satoru’s. But that was it.

|| Ryomen Sukuna: I’ll make it worth your while.

You groaned again, eyes rolling into the back of your head. This was the same man who grunted when you greeted him with a smile whenever you were at the frat house. The guy who told Satoru that he can’t always use his plus one invite to the parties on you, mostly because you never turn up.

|| You: you’re coming to me for a favour? you must be really outta options, dude.

It was a strange feeling. Being needed. You knew Satoru needed you. You were the only one who kept him sane when he’s balancing football and physics. But this was a different kind of need. This was practically a stranger needing your help. Huh.

|| Ryomen Sukuna: Fuck you. I need a girlfriend. You wanna do it?

Confused didn’t even begin to cover what you were feeling right now. A girlfriend? Sukuna? Nope. Never gonna happen. And you of all people? Definitely not. You had a feeling Satoru didn’t know, because if he did, Sukuna’s phone would be broken and maybe his nose too.

|| You: the fuck? no, go ask one of your sorority fuck buddies if you’re that desperate. i’m sure their frothing at the mouth for the opportunity.

You went to put your phone down, choosing to ignore the pink-haired quarterback, but he was already typing. Like he was waiting for an answer.

|| Ryomen Sukuna: Real cute, princess. Obviously I don’t want a fuckin real one. Need a fake girlfriend so I can focus on football without thinking about pussy.

Confused again. The Ryomen Sukuna, self-proclaimed football god, needed help to be able to actually play? The situation was laughable actually. You furrowed your brows, the thought crossing your mind for just a second.

|| You: Pass.

You let out a sigh of relief when ten minutes passed and you were still left on read, choosing to turn your phone over, pressing your face into the pillow, and getting your final three hours of sleep you so desperately craved.

taglist: @kyo-kyo1 @kenmacantakemeaway @coldluminarykoala @sukubusss @clp-84 @ieathairs @toratsue @mocha-the-muse

[simp-ly-writes]

Hate the Love That Drives Ambition

─────── · · An Arcane FanFic

Pairing: Father!Silco x Mother!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You thought Silco had tried to kill you, running away to topside you find yourself to be pregnant but what happens when one day Silco appears back at your doorstep?

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, reader called 'mom/mother,' angst, fluff? maybe? just a little bit..., one mention of pregnancy, no happily ever after, very bad miscommunication, not beta read.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,208

─ · · A/N: I'm sorry but i'm obsessed with writing Silco angst rn.

─────── · ·

18 years. It had been eighteen years since you had last seen Silco... since he wanted you dead. You thought that your decades long relationship was something concrete but the man obviously thought otherwise when he began tearing the Undercity apart to rebuild anew in his vision.

You always admired his drive, his charisma, his outstanding confidence. He always knew how to make something happen and just the right words to either piss you off and smile at your rage or pick you up by your pieces.

Silco always had some witty and snarky comment for you- coated in a tender compliment that made your cheeks heat up. You remember sitting with him in bed during the few quiet mornings you both shared and fondly looked back upon.

Those moments when his chest was to your back. An arm dangling in your lap as you played with the fingers of his hand and the light jewellery he worse. A cigar would be lit in his other, tapping it outside the window that your bed was positioned alongside.

You hated that part of you that missed those tender and quiet moments when you remember that barrel being pointed between your eyes and the various cuts upon your skin.

You remember that night as if reliving the moment entirely. The cold breeze drifting down the alleyway, catching and rattling your bones like your rapidly beating heart. Your eyes were full of tears, your head cloudy with a distant ache.

Silcos henchmen chased after you for what felt like miles before you were being cornered above a sewer grate, the steam rising above it blurring all the actions that held you overwhelmed with pain before gunshots ran through your ears and you finally felt numb.

Arms picked you up, you remember that distantly brilliant blue you did everything to escape yet when those strong arms wrapped around your torso- another supporting your head... you were disgusted to admit that you were thankful for their presence that day in the Undercity... and that would be the last you saw of it.

─────── · ·

You got a job, some cleaning job in the Academy. It was a nice gig, dusting the bookshelves and mopping the marble floors until they glimmered under the sun- the sun that now warmed your skin like Silco used to- no. I musn't think of him, you reminder yourself.

You loved seeing all these young individuals running around the campus with their brilliant inventions and minds. You hated how many times you thought to see that young Silco you had grown up within them all... but as it turned out, you wouldn't be far from seeing him on the daily.

You were pregnant and the only person you had been remotely romantic with was Silco... you couldn't find it in yourself to be with anyone else just yet as his voice still haunted your dreams, the thought of his presence making your heart equally yearn and hurt.

You had a son, Rhyker, and he looked exactly like his father yet held your eyes and smile. He helped you to heal that part of you that was missing from the Undercity and as you both aged, he made Piltover feel like a new home, a new future you were finally accepting.

Rhyker was equally as brilliant as well, loving the scrap items you collected and brought home that he tinkered with inside his room. And every time he was finished, he would run out to show you his latest invention.

At the start like any good parent you smiled at his drawings and listened to his ideas and acted amazed at his creations. But going forwards into his teenage years, Rhy was truly showing a knack for tinkering as his blueprints became more complex and his creations helping you around the home.

Your son adored you, watched you work yourself to the bone that he studied hard in school with a hope of making it into the Academy- of creating something that would change the world and make it a better one for you and him. Yet couldn't help but wonder about his father.

Rhy knew he was from the Undercity, a comment you let slip when half asleep one night while cooking dinner. Yet anytime he would ever bring a even a mention of him up, you would tense, gripping whatever was in your hand until your knuckles turned white before smiling calmly. It was at these times your son was ever scared of you... of what his father must have done to someone as kind as you to illicit such a reaction but he couldn't help but dig when he gained the opportunity to.

─────── · ·

Rhyker made it into the Academy and you couldn't have been prouder while reading the acceptance letter over and over again before crying into his shoulder.

That first week he was in the library looking up all articles and databases related to the Undercity- determined to discover who his father was but unknowing that someone was already looking back at him as well.

A thousand faces passed through his eyes as he numbered down with what little evidence you gave him to about fifty people. Tall, slender, brown hair, and holding just enough power to remove someone like they did to you...

He printed out these faces and basic documentation, pasting them into his journal alongside his blueprints. He failed to realize just how late at night it was inside the library as he was the only one left in the building... or he thought so.

The flicker of a lighter, the soft glow of an amber light out of the corner of his eye had his chair screeching against the tiles as he felt for his pair of scissors and gripped them tightly in his hand.

A cold breeze drifted through the large hall echoed the sigh, carrying it through the room. "Any faces appear remarkably similar?" a deep voice says, their face still unseen. Rhykers breath hitched in their throat, hand beginning to shake as their head swung side to side, trying to identify where this voice was coming from through the shadows of night.

"Who are you?" Rhyker asked, a small part of his brain nudging with an answer. "I think you already know that, you just don't want to admit it to yourself. And here I was thinking that my son would live up to his name... or am I mislead?" the voice asks. He can hear his footsteps moving around in the shadows, the outline of a leather boot shining in the moonlight.

"You are not my father. You couldn't be- I mean. Mom would never be with some... some-thing, some monster like you are in the first place!" Rhyker yells to only hear a ghostly chuckle before Silco steps into the moonlight, head tilted high, chin raised to cover his shifting expression once seeing your eyes looking back into his own.

Silco can't help but pick up every feature of his son that looks like you starring daggers through him. "You really do look a lot like her, how is your mother doing?" Silco asks calmly, taking another drag of his cigar.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Rhyker responds childishly before picking up his items from the desk. "I ask with honesty for the answer," Silco replies, head lowering as he observes the various drawings and gear-sets with intrigue.

"Well, if you could already know I'm here whats stoping you from seeing my mother?" Rhy poses back, failing to look up and catch the furrowed brow on Silco's features.

"I know that she would not want to see me... even if I do want to see her-"

"After everything you did!" Rhyker slams his books atop the table before pointing the blades at his fathers chest, "You say you still want to see her? To what? Try and kill her again- like fuck am I allowing you to do that, father or not!"

"I never tried to kill your mother, a mere... misunderstanding..." Silco tries to find his most comforting tone yet it appears cold and distant in the ears of Rhyker who's eyes scream murder.

"A 'mere-misunderstanding' that almost cost her, her life! I regret trying to find who you were, I understand that my mother was only trying to protect me from the monster that you are. Selling all of those drugs to the needy to what? Make yourself rich? Have another woman wet your-"

"ENOUGH!" Silco raises his tone, a chill running down Rhykers spine as his father walks up to him, blade pressing into his vest, pointing at his heart yet showing no discomfort but only a cold anger. "I loved. love your mother. I wouldn't have done all the things I've done without her. Things would have been different if I caught on minutes faster before I thought her gone for good..." Silco explains before taking a step back to take a drag from his cigar, looking out at a sleepy Piltover.

"So if you magically saved her, you would have been a better man? Like I believe that you would abandon your ambition for love," Rhyker retorts, arms now crossed as he watches his fathers back rise and fall with the deep breaths he calms himself with.

"You and I are not so different in that aspect. We drive our ambition from love... it only takes the right pair of lenses to see it. I tried to build a combined city but to many that don't understand the darkness- I look to be the devil and they wouldn't be far off..."

─────── · ·

You were worried sick back at the apartment. Not a single message or knock on the door from one of Rhykers friends to tell you he would not be home tonight. You paced rapidly around the kitchen, wondering to take to the streets yourself or to call a patrol out to find your son.

But the sudden rattling of keys and a soft swear as they fell to the floor had you rushing to open the door, arms flinging around to home him as you cried in thankfulness for his safe return. Yet the returning hug was slow to come by and the hands that gripped your waist tight felt distant but familiar.

Opening your eyes in shock to see your son looking at you back in the eyes. You tense in the mans arms that currently enveloped you- smelling whiskey, smoke, and the faintest scent of citrus aftershave. Their vest hiding a muscled back that your hand fall from- frozen.

You try and wiggle yourself free from their touch, tears finding your eyes once more as your struggle out with a cry but Silco only holds you. You can feel his hands shaking as he rests his head above your own. But with one last shove to his chest, you release yourself, stumbling backwards and back into your apartment.

You swiftly regain your footing, walking backwards, hands shaking as you do your best to yells threats while holding up a letter opener. "I now remember where you get the obsession with blades from, son," Silco comments with a chuckle that has your heart pounding in your chest.

"Back the fuck away from my son!" you yell, other hand ushering for Rhyker to stand behind you. You scream when he does not move, instead closing and locking the front door before walking over to you both.

"Well it would seem our son found me first," Silco explains, hands now tucked behind his back as he blinks slowly, taking in your appearance with the softest eyes he can muster, the yellow one glaring into the deepest parts of your soul.

You mouth opens and closes, failing to find the words before Silco has disarmed you and walked you over to the couch with a hand on your back, "grab your mother a glass of water, please," he asks Rhyker before kneeling in front of you.

You refuse to look at him, instead are focused just past his head, watching the wood in the fireplace burn behind him. The glass of water is presented to you yet you make no move to take it, Silco puts in on the side table before pulling your chin gently to have your eyes meet again.

"No," you softly say, shaking your head in his gentle grasp. "No?" Silco questions.

"No, you're not coming back into my life, into his life. We have made roots here. Rhyker has the opportunity of a lifetime and I. Will. NOT. have you ruin it!" you exclaim.

Silco sighs yet is internally content that you have yet to push away from his touch again. "Mom- I-" Rhyker begins to speak.

"No, Rhyker. I don't care whatever lies this man has placed into your head but they are just that- lies. Just like when he said that he loved me, would protect me, you disgust me, Silco," you spit out, watching as Silco stands in front of you, looking down, calculating something.

"Hate me all you want, darling. Just know that before hate there was love and that is something I have never departed from."

─────── · ·

[fear-o-phobia]

nicole i hope you do not mind my reblogging with your tags included because you far more eloquently said what i was trying to hit on last night and flailing and failing to find the words for!! he says himself that every door has been sealed on him but he’s decided to build a whole new door to step through instead of working to jimmy and ease open the closed ones! i think it’s a clear cut decision to him but it’s not a good call for him OR for chris, he just sees no other way out!

[ image id: tags reading “#agreed! #but also. #I don't think it's about misassigning bucks core identity of 118 firefighter to eddie #it's about the fact that eddie's core conceit as a character was his making the decision raise chris himself. and doing so by moving to LA #choosing to raise chris instead of letting his parents do it and choosing to come to LA #I'm not comparing his parents to domestic abusers but in terms of like collapsing back a characters core conceit #this is the equivalent of maddie deciding she couldn't make it on her own and to go back to doug after all #also i dont think it's entirely true to say this is a rationale thought-out decision #a rationale thought out decision might be to go stay in el paso for a while. or just go pick up his kid bc he has every right to #selling his house and moving back to LA and letting chris continue to be raised by his parents? that's ALL about walking back his agency #and he's only doing it bc he feels like his being in his own kids life is being held hostage #and he has no option left but to give into their demands #it's not healthy. it's not a rational conclusion. it's a man who loves his son who feels backed into a corner #911 abc #911 spoilers” end image id ]

talk of eddie “blowing up his life” to move to texas is umm. well i don’t think that’s very fair. because his thinking is linear and logical and supported with the repeated evidence that he has been given! he cannot connect with his son through this distance despite threesix/sixthree months of trying. he is actively being blocked from doing so. his son is his greatest joy in life. he is missing out on christopher growing up and he doesn’t want to miss any more. he isn’t spinning out, he isn’t blowing up his life, he thought about what he wanted and what he needed and he drew a conclusion based on the information and options available to him and decided that he needed to move to texas to be near chris. because THAT is what is going to bring him joy. i think people (general, broad, etc) misassign buck’s core identity of “firefighter for station 118” to eddie, when eddie likes his job and is good at his job but his son will always be his number one priority. like does it feel drastic? yes! but it is a decision made with care, clarity, and consideration, not impulsivity or a lack of understanding himself

[rafesfavouritegirl]

I don 't know why people are in a frenzy now over what's speculated to be Drew and Odessa under that umbrella in Aaron's photo dump; if you all read the room, it was apparent they were more than platonic from the jump, especially if they were seen exiting the same hotel in Paris back in January . Many people wanna insinuate that O is a lesbian who has a girlfriend . I guess them thinking it's Quen Blackwell or maybe Billie Eilish, but Quen said 2 years ago that Odessa had a boyfriend on a podcast . She mentionedhow her and O would go on double dates ,and how she was in love. During those times , O was seen with Drew a lot . Ifshe was in a relationship with someone else , why would that believed - to - be partner let Odessa share clothes with Drew , fly internationally just to see him ,and have no other friends involved , and be okay with that ? Wouldn't Drew deny the British Vogue article or Daily Mail one mentioning how him and O were in a relationship ? His own cousin was commenting on a TikTok video , claiming he had a girlfriend . This was the same cousin that was with him in Charleston at the obx4 premiere . Some little girl who was at the Tribeca Film Festival during O's premiere of Fresh Kills that O even follows claimed that O referred to Drew as her boyfriend . O doesn't treat Drew just like one of the guys . Although she may emasculate him and embarrass him ,they're emotionally attached to eachother and at the hip . It worked for them this long to never confirm them being together , otherwise they get more hate ,even worse than the backlash they received from Aaron's photo dump.Because Drew fans would crash out worse than Rudison fans when it comes to Rudy and Elaine . There were already fans threatening to unstan because of the umbrella photo . Drew deleted all traces of O off his page and turned off tags at a point because there were hate pages doxxing his family , sending him death threats , and going too far . Thosepeople make it unbearable for him to feel confident going through fully coming out and admitting what O is to him . He is hypersensitive and doesn 't know how to stand up for himself . O is pathetic to be okay with not having a title , and being allover him, or vice versa . It 's been going on for 4 years now . He 's living in Odessa's old apartment with Jesse . Shedrives his car . They share a Pomeranian dog , and all her friends have become his, and his have become hers . Drew isn't coming off Odessa no matter how bad she plays in his face , embarrassing him ,showing up to his . Premiere looking like a hobo and thenhaving to sneak into restaurants through the back door , or not be visible in public. Zero PDA . They are a shit show . Sheis still pursuing other women like Billie and Manon , and flirty with Quen . He isstill on Raya and following sex workers .These people are flawed and have faults the public may not see . People are so disillusioned with this fantasy . He 's Prince Charming when he's going out like a cuckold.

yall just read this because honestly it left me speachless. applaud this anon because they said it ALL. anon ily you explain lowk everything perfectly

[imorynn]

༊*·˚ ━━━ ¡ AVIS AMBERG • FEM!READER HEADCANONS !

༊*·˚ warnings : fluff & SMUT ( MDNI 18+ )

༊*·˚ tags : @thoroughly--confused @weemswife @urdaddddd69 @mrsines @confuseuniverse @kenzie-floops @evilregal2002 @alicemaximoff @angeliccss @multixfan @spicyredbitch @ofgoldandbraid @nutritionat @bigbaddoctorwolfe @mgruiz @cultiest @aggieharkness @amethyst-bitch @im-a-carnivorous-plant @likealayka @emilynissangtr @gilmoresliarss @jessicaslittlelovesickmess @gayestswiftie @delusionaforolderwomen @greek-freak101 @justasmallfellow @hotmilfyfrap @thegoddamnfeels @lalchimiedecupid @liliastriangle @czl4t @vii-v @asimpforwomen @daddyriovidal ( those who liked / wanted to be tagged !)

༊*·˚ author’s note : this was so enjoyable to do 😭😭 the list is quite lengthy — and there was so much more to bring together, lol. I hope this is enjoyable to read and that I somewhat did Patti LuPone’s character, Avis Amberg justice with these headcanons ! Lemme know your thoughts ! Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate ! 🍂 Mwuah !! <33

SFW :

༊*·˚ AVIS AMBERG is incredibly careful about your rendezvous, choosing discreet locations like upscale hotels or isolated spots far from prying eyes.

༊*·˚ Her visits to the Golden Tip Gasoline are calculated, never too frequent or predictable, to avoid raising suspicion — especially when it comes to being seen with a young gal such as yourself.

༊*·˚ Important, fleeting note : you’re the first female to work in the Golden Tip Gasoline.

༊*·˚ When Ernie sends a note your way that a favored and certain customer of his was willing to pay double of what was usual to maintain discretion and to steal a moment with you, you knew by that smirk and glint in his eyes that you couldn’t say no.

༊*·˚ Avis is a woman who knows the power of her allure, no matter her age.

༊*·˚ Flustered — you’re indeed very fucking flustered the first time especially given her STRAIGHTFORWARDNESS, yet it’s endearing to her.

༊*·˚ You do love how blunt she is though and eventually get used to it.

༊*·˚ She wants to do it again, and you would be lying ( and fucking stupid ) if you said you didn’t want to — 3 to 4 ‘acts of services’ of exhilaration and fun escalated to a full-on affair.

༊*·˚ She flirts effortlessly with you, her smoky voice dropping to a whisper whenever she addresses you, her lips always curving into a faint, knowing smile while basking in the way you flush at her words.

༊*·˚ ESPECIALLY WITH THE NICKNAMES SHE CALLS YOU —

༊*·˚ “ Darling girl,” “mama’s girl,” “doll,” “sweetheart,” “kitten,” “you little minx” “darling”

༊*·˚ Or when the faint yet pigmented traces of her red lips taint your cheeks, your jawline, your temple, or trail along your neck and collarbone — SHE BEAMS WITH PRIDE AND SATISFACTION WHILE ALL YOU CAN DO IS JUST STARE AT HER WITH A STUPID LOVESICK SMILE. ( this is fucking headcanon for Lilia Calderu as well — DISAGREE WITH ME IF YOU DARE. )

༊*·˚ Avis loves teasing you. CANNOT resist gently poking fun at you, whether it’s the way you blush under her gaze or stumble over your words when she leans in too close. Her teasing is always playful, her tone laced with affection.

༊*·˚ She brings touches of her opulent life into your world. Perfume lingering on the clothes she’s discarded, the soft leather of her handbag brushing against your arm, or the way she lights a cigarette with a gold lighter — it’s a stark contrast to your simpler life and a reminder of the gap between you.

༊*·˚ 100 % a good and attentive listener !!!

༊*·˚ Despite the differences in your worlds, Avis genuinely wants to know about your thoughts, dreams, and past. When you speak, she watches you closely, her brown gaze unwavering, her attention making you feel more seen than you’ve ever been.

༊*·˚ From the way your fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt when you’re nervous to the way your voice becomes faint when you’re tired, she’s attuned to all your quirks. She has a sharp eye for detail, and while she doesn’t always mention these observations, her actions show she’s paying attention.

༊*·˚ You remind her she’s more than her reputation. Avis is used to being seen as a symbol of wealth, power, or beauty, but she loves when you make her feel like a person. A woman. Someone who’s flawed, complex, and deeply loved for who she is—not what she represents.

༊*·˚ Show her that she’s cherished, even in small ways.

༊*·˚ Avis adores the little things you do to show your devotion — like carrying something for her, warming her hands with yours, or whispering her name in a way that’s just for her. Or even small love-written notes you may sneak into her purse or leave behind.

༊*·˚ It’s in these gestures that she feels truly adored.

༊*·˚ You make her smile. Like, truly, REALLY smile, cheekbones slightly accentuated — there’s this smoldering depth in her eyes when she looks at you as you speak or does something, and when you catch her looking at you like that, your brain just cuts circuits and you feel yourself melting into a puddle because what the fuck —

༊*·˚ In her world of facades and half-truths, your openness is refreshing. Even when you hesitate or stumble over your words, she appreciates the sincerity in everything you say.

༊*·˚ Admires how you respect her boundaries!! Avis values your understanding of her limits. She loves that you don’t push her to share more than she’s comfortable with or question the life she’s built outside of your relationship. Your respect for her choices deepens her trust in you.

༊*·˚ Expect to hear her talk shit about people, even those she loves ( Ellen included, sorry pooks —), in the industry — and expect her to be RIGHT because her words are not spoken without blunt TRUTH. You never disagree with her, although you do shed slight light depending on who it is ( except Ace. Fuck Ace. )

༊*·˚ Though she’d never admit it, Avis is sentimental about your affair. A small book you’d been reading in the passenger seat of her car, the handkerchief you left at her hotel once—all these small things find their way into her collection of keepsakes.

༊*·˚ Avis isn’t outwardly possessive, but there’s an edge to her when she perceives competition. If she catches a whiff of you being overly friendly with someone else, her smiles get tighter, and her touches that night are more deliberate, as if reasserting her claim.

༊*·˚ She pays Ernie fucking extra for your attention to only be provided for her.

༊*·˚ You have to make it clear on more than one occasion that she does not have to pay for your attention, when she’s already captured it entirely —

༊*·˚ You seek her approval and praise. When she throws a compliment or words of advice your way, you greedily and most eagerly consume that into your brain and heart.

༊*·˚ While Avis does here and there tease and dangle the age card on you, you trust and deeply value her judgment, her choice of words, her opinions, and thoughts, and not just because she is someone you adore and become a literal hole for, but because she IS Avis Amberg, a regal and intelligent woman who’s walked the earth longer than you have.

༊*·˚ She more than anyone understands the things one must do and sacrifices one must make to survive in this world. She understands why you do what you do — such as work at the Golden Tip Gas.

༊*·˚ “You’re smarter than this place, doll. Don’t let it keep you boxed in.”

༊*·˚ It’s her way of lifting you up while reminding you that she sees your potential beyond that place.

༊*·˚ Definitely encourages you to pursue your dreams, and depending on what your ideal career is, she will push and pull at strings so her girl can get one step ahead to where she wants to be.

༊*·˚ Avis definitely fusses over you sometimes. If she notices you’ve been overworking or looking too tired, she might hand you a flask of expensive whiskey or tuck a crisp bill into your shirt pocket with a teasing comment about taking care of yourself.

༊*·˚ Avis is NOT afraid to show you tough love. Does not like to sugarcoat things. Her maternal streak doesn’t mean she’ll coddle or indulge weakness. She’ll tell you the truth, even if it’s hard to hear, but her words are always laced with an undercurrent of care.

༊*·˚ Not only supports but pushes you, and it’s because she believes in your potential and wants you to succeed. “You’re strong, don’t let the world treat you like a little bitch, darling.”

༊*·˚ You smother her with affection, SHE SMOTHERS YOU WITH GIFTS.

༊*·˚ The first time she gives you something, you’re hesitant to accept it. Her brow arched, a soft laugh escaping her as she leaned closer to murmur, “It’s for me as much as it is for you, kitten. Humor me, won’t you?”

༊*·˚ Avis knows you might hesitate to accept her generosity, given your position and hers. She always reassures you with a soft smile and a murmured, “It’s nothing, darling. Let me take care of you.” Or , “Don’t argue with me. Mama likes to spoil her girl.”

༊*·˚ A novel by an author you may have mentioned in passing, or a scarf in your favorite color, or a bracelet with a charm that carries a secret significance between the two of you, she’ll get it for you.

༊*·˚ When you proudly wear or use something she’s gifted with gleam, those brown pools of hers shimmer with unmistakable pride. She may trail her fingers along the edge of the fabric she bought for you or comment softly, “You make it look better than I imagined.”

༊*·˚ She sometimes indulges in a more extravagant gift — a pair of earrings, a silk dress, or something that feels out of reach for your world. When she does, her tone is casual, as though it’s no trouble for her to provide such luxuries, but her eyes gleam with satisfaction when she sees your stunned expression.

༊*·˚ Avis is a proud woman, and though she’s not one for grand declarations, she doesn’t like it when you question her affections. “Must I always remind you how much you mean to me?” she’ll say with a soft sigh, cupping your chin to force you to look her in the eye.

༊*·˚ There’s a touch of insecurity on your part. Being with someone as poised and powerful as Avis can feel overwhelming. Sometimes you wonder why she’s with you, a nobody compared to her glamorous life. But she has a way of dispelling your doubts with a single look or a soft-spoken reassurance.

༊*·˚ While Avis trusts your independence, she doesn’t take kindly to anyone mistreating you. If she senses someone’s being disrespectful, her words turn sharp, her demeanor icy, as she swiftly puts them in their place.

༊*·˚ She HATES leaving you after stolen hours with one another. Parting way is always the hardest for Avis. Though she masks it well, there’s a flicker of hesitation in her eyes every time she has to walk away, as if she’s silently wishing she could stay longer. ( those brown eyes of her soft and warm and SAD while her red-tinted lips frown as she stares at you, touches lingering, pecks to your cheek frequent, longer than the last before the departs — UGH. )

༊*·˚ You despise Ace. Period. It physically pains you that she has to go back to the man called her husband — the man with far more power than you could ever have. A MAN for Christ’s sake. Your jealousy — and despise — is both endearing but somewhat common to Avis.

༊*·˚ You bring out a softness in her. With you, Avis lets herself relax in ways she doesn’t elsewhere. She enjoys quiet moments together—sharing a cigarette, lying side by side in silence, or just watching the way you look at her like she’s the only, most precious person in the world. She tends to forget what it feels like, being looked at in that way, feeling that way. ( poor baby —)

༊*·˚ She ADORES how you notice the small things. Whether it’s a new piece of jewelry she’s wearing, the way her hair is slightly styled differently, or even just a minor change in her tone, Avis is deeply flattered when you pick up on the details. She loves being seen by you.

༊*·˚ She knows when you’re upset. You can’t hide your emotions from Avis. If you’re feeling down or anxious, she has a way of coaxing it out of you with a quiet patience that makes you feel safe.

NSFW !!!

༊*·˚ AVIS AMBERG THRIVES in control — a tantalizing balance of tender and firm.

༊*·˚ In the bedroom, this translates into her taking the lead with a firm but sensual dominance. She delights in directing your actions, telling you how to touch her, how to undress, or how to position yourself for her pleasure. She enjoys you being obedient, and your eagerness to please only enhances her desire.

༊*·˚ She might instruct you to undress in front of her slowly, letting her take in every inch of your body, her gaze deliberate and appreciative.

༊*·˚ “Good girl,” she’d breathe out, her voice a velvet-like mix of approval and arousal, as you follow her instructions without hesitation.

༊*·˚ She relishes in control though tempers it with a warmth that makes you feel safe, adored, and completely hers.

༊*·˚ She’s a MASTER of seduction.

༊*·˚ Avis takes her time with foreplay, savoring the build-up as much as the act itself. Her lips, her hands, and her voice are all tools in her arsenal, and she knows exactly how to wield them to leave you breathless.

༊*·˚ Avis would be drawn to your reverence for her. Your willingness to treat her like a goddess would resonate deeply, feeding her need to feel adored and desired in ways she doesn’t receive in her conventional life.

༊*·˚ Babygirl isn’t one to rush, if you’re eager to get to it, she manages to get you to slow down with those eyes and red lipped smirk of hers. Whether it’s the slow drag of her lips down your neck or the way your fingers explore every inch of her skin, she likes for one to take their time, as though committing the feel of one another to memory.

༊*·˚ Quiet isn’t her issue! Avis isn’t afraid to let you know how much she’s enjoying herself — very vocal. Her moans are soft yet commanding, her whispered praises intoxicating. She’s also insistent on hearing you, encouraging every gasp and groan with murmured affirmations.

༊*·˚ She DEMANDS your focus. When you’re with Avis, she expects your UNDIVIDED attention. She’ll gently guide your hands to where she wants them or softly command you to look at her, ensuring every moment is intentional and shared.

༊*·˚ She enjoys hearing how beautiful, powerful, and sensual she is, and she’d savor how eagerly you want to please her.

༊*·˚ You kiss every inch of her body, whispering how divine she is, how much you want to please her, and how lucky you feel to have her.

༊*·˚ “That’s it, darling,” she’d exhale, fingers threading into your hair when you’d kneel before her. “Show Mama how much you adore her.”

༊*·˚ While Avis exudes control and dominance, she would also crave moments where she can let her guard down.

༊*·˚ With you, someone younger and fresh with possibility, she’d explore the thrill of trusting someone to take care of her—even if only briefly.

༊*·˚ On rare occasions, she’d allow herself to lean into your arms, guiding your hand to undress her or worship her body as she sits / lays back, watching you with a mix of amusement and surrender.

༊*·˚ Avis lives for the thrill of secrecy.

༊*·˚ The illicit nature of your rendezvous adds an irresistible tension that heightens her arousal.

༊*·˚ She delights in taking risks — stolen touches in public spaces, breathy moans silenced into the palm of her hand, and the ever-present danger of discovery.

༊*·˚ During galas or social events, she’d brush her fingers against your waist, whispering heated promises in your ear about what she’ll do to you later.

༊*·˚ QUICKIES OCCUR WITH AVIS. I JUST KNOW IT IN MY BONES. Sometimes, when time is short, she’ll pull you into her car and park in the nearest empty parking lot— DOES NOT GIVE TWO FLYING FUCKS IF IT IS DAY OR NIGHT, SHE WILL HAVE YOU.

༊*·˚ The urgency of these moments—your hands fumbling, your breath hot against her skin—it’s all just so delicious to her and you —

༊*·˚ The forbidden nature of your relationship feeds her desire, making every encounter all the more electrifying.

༊*·˚ Definitely has a thing for marking you — hidden of course, though sometimes she isn’t afraid to let them peak out —

༊*·˚ Avis is deliberate about leaving traces of your passion, but always where only you or she will see them. Love bites along your inner thighs or scratches down your back are her signature, a private reminder of her.

༊*·˚ Avis, ever meticulous and refined, would likely have a deep appreciation for oral pleasure — both giving and receiving.

༊*·˚ She’s precise, taking her time to tease and savor, drawing out your pleasure until you’re trembling under her touch.

༊*·˚ She’d enjoy teasing you, her lips and tongue exploring every sensitive spot, her movements sensual and deliberate, building you up only to pause and make you beg for release.

༊*·˚ “Patience, my sweet girl,” she’d whisper, her voice rich with amusement. “I decide when you come.”

༊*·˚ Conversely, she’d REVEL in your attention to her, loving the way you worship her body, how you kiss and taste her like she’s the only thing that matters.

༊*·˚ She encourages you to be VOCAL. Avis LOVES hearing you — whether it’s a soft moan, a whispered plea, or her name spilling from your lips. She’ll tease — very subtly degrade you if you try to stifle yourself. “Let me hear those pretty sounds, darling. I want to know how good you feel at being a dirty little whore, hmm?”

༊*·˚ As a woman used to getting what she wants, Avis would enjoy exerting her control through teasing and denial.

༊*·˚ She, and proud she would be to declare this, is highly aware of the power she holds over you and takes immense pleasure in making you wait for her touch, her approval, her satisfaction.

༊*·˚ She might kiss you deeply, her hands roaming your body, only to stop abruptly and smile. “Not yet, darling,” she’d say, commanding while those brown eyes shimmer in mirth. “I want to savor you.”

༊*·˚ Your frustration only fuels her satisfaction, and when she finally allows you to have her, the release is all the sweeter.

༊*·˚ Avis would revel in the age gap between you.

༊*·˚ She enjoys being the experienced, worldly woman guiding you into new realms of pleasure and desire.

༊*·˚ She loves how youthful and vibrant you are, how your innocence (or at least the appearance of it) contrasts with her own sophistication.

༊*·˚ She might call you “Mama’s girl” during moments of intimacy, or when promising you something filthy and exhilarating in the secrecy of stolen moments.

༊*·˚“You’re so eager, you minx ,” she’d croon affectionately. “It’s adorable how desperate you are for me.”

༊*·˚ Avis is a woman of taste, and she’d incorporate luxury into her intimate encounters with you.

༊*·˚ Silk sheets, champagne, and candlelit settings would be her preference, creating an atmosphere of opulence that matches her persona.

༊*·˚ She’d surprise you with a private rendezvous in a lavish hotel room, the bed adorned with rose petals, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume.

༊*·˚ “Only the best for mama’s girl,” she’d whisper against the nape of your neck as you marveled at the setting she’d arranged just for you.

༊*·˚ praise, praise praise !!!! If it was not clear, Avis thrives for praising you!!!! Avis is generous with her compliments, but they’re always laced with her unique brand of authority.

༊*·˚ She LOVES hearing you call her Mrs. Amberg when you’re intimate, but she’s also partial to ma’am or even mama. It feeds her ego and the dynamic between you two.

༊*·˚ Definitely tests your limits. Avis enjoys pushing boundaries, always careful but curious to see how far you’re willing to go for her. A blindfold, a soft scarf tying your wrists, or simply asking you to trust her completely—she knows how to toe the line between thrilling and overwhelming !

༊*·˚ VERY SENSUAL. For Avis, intimacy is about more than just physical pleasure. She takes every opportunity to touch you—tracing patterns on your skin, pressing kisses to your pulse, and savoring the way you respond to her in every way.

༊*·˚ She takes her time with aftercare, as do you. Despite her intensity, Avis is gentle and attentive once the heat of the moment has passed. She’ll brush back your hair, press soft kisses to your temple, and whisper words of reassurance as she holds you close.

[msflora-lynn]

Rating the fanbase of every Primarch & their legions.

This is my opinion, I love all of you ㅤ♡ྀི ₊

Lion'El Johnson & Dark Angels fans (8/10): I like the fanarts they make, also 100 points for portraying Lion like a rouge kitty cat sometimes. Oh I also like how the Lion fans are embracing the 'our primarch is obviously neurodivergent and we love him for it'

Fulgrim & E.Children fans (10/10): This part of the group always produce the best fanart?? Or at least a lot of artworks for E.Children in general. Though browsing his fanart must be done with caution cause 20% chance I might see schlongous or booty.

Perturabo & I.W fans (8/10): I'm sorry about your favorite character. Not many of them are around though :( But so far their fanart production have been solid. I like how they kinda just chill and embrace the 'neurodivergent manchild' persona for Bo and makes no attempt to refute it.

Jaghatai Khan & W.Scars fans (8/10): Surprisingly not many of them. I'm kinda bummed out about it since I like this character. Though his fanarts are mostly adorable! They're always chill, I'm happy to see them on my feed -`♡´-

Leman Russ & S.W fans (7/10): I would rate it 8/10 but I hate stimky wolf grrrr so -1 point (msflora found dead in fenris more at news 6). Anyways fanart-wise, they're so good!! I like how they always draw Leman like a scrunkly lil guy. I also love to read their fanfictions.

Rogal Dorn & I.Fists fans (6/10): WHERE ARE YOU PEOPLE?! I CAN'T FIND YOU!! I RATE IT LOW BECAUSE I'M SCRAPING THE GROUND FOR ROGAL DORN CONTENT! But in all seriousness, loving how they embrace the 'fortify' meme. I don't like the weird Black Templar larpers from twitter, but that's just a 1% of the fanbase

Konrad Curze & Night Lord fans (8/10): Your fanfictions scares me, most of the hashtags are nowhere written in the bible, but I read them all so who am I to judge. I love how this side of the fandom just embrace the 'we are bad and disturbing and creepy' schtick and go ball. I blame this side of the fandom for making me love Jago Sevatar tho.

Sanguinius & Blood Angels fans (10/10): Insane artworks from this side of the fandom, always impress me. A lot of vampire and angelic stuff, I love you guys. Sorry about your primarch tho.

Ferrus Manus & I.H fans (all six of them) (7/10): I'm sorry about your primarch, I'm sorry he get crumbs in the lore. I rate it low because I'm scraping for any IH/Ferrus content here....

Angron & World Eaters fans (8/10): Loving the contents you guys made here! A lot of red, so many red, oh god. I'm sorry about the sinking ship of Argel Tal x Kharn though.

Roboute Guilliman & Ultramarine fans (9/10): Spoiled, well-fed, their favorite guys have insane plot armor and I'm jealous >:(. Keep the bulky half-naked Rob fanarts coming tho I have them all liked & downloaded.

Mortarion & D.Guards fans (6/10): I do not like Nurgle stuff so I rarely go there... But my god most fanfictions yall made for Mortarion x reader is heartbreaking. Rating it low because I get scared of some fanarts they make, but pre-heresy Mortarion is kinda baddddddd👅

Magnus the Red & Thousand Sons fans (100 Tzaangors/10): We are so cool and awesome, not a biased rating. In all seriousness we Tsons fans r eating GOOODDD this year (thx SM2). Though we suffer from a disease called 'inconsistent writing of our favorite primarch's power levels' and it's not getting better.

Horus & L.Wolves fans (9/10): Guys I understand, Horus is big daddy, a father, he's an icon, you guys made it clear with the abundant of breeding tags in your fanfics. Sorry that the way he's corrupted into chaos is kinda bootycheeks tho :( Wishing they explore more into his corruption.

Lorgar & WB fans (Where Are You Guys/10): While being small, they make the best artworks for Lorgar. Questionable fanfic tags, but I love yall regardless. They kinda eats with all the Word Bearer fanarts tho I've seen. Sadly, Erebus is from here and everyone hates him.

Vulkan & Salamander fans (8/10): I would like to pet them. In all seriousness I'm happy to see the majority of Vulkan fanarts are created with African features in mind ♥︎!! Everyone from this fanbase are cute and sweet!!

Corvus Corax & RG fans (Birds/10): I love all the raven aesthetics often seen in their fanworks. Corvus having wings is so cool, and often I see amazing OCs spawning from this legion.

Alpharius Omegon & A.L fans (What are you guys doing/10): I can't find much about them but I fw with the entire 'we dont know what our primarch is doing so we just ball it'. BUT HEY CONGRATS ON YOUR PRIMARCH COMING BACK!!!

:3 And I love all of you... Thank you for reading this nonsense of a post.

[moonheavens]

moonheavens' (wolfstar) fic recs, Nov 24

hello! since my last list of fic recs is now over a year old (Aug 23), I figured it's about time for a new one, especially on the back of the recent discourse about shouting about work you love, which I'm always happy to do.

so without further ado, here are some fics I have "recently" read and loved and whose praises I'd like to sing, very loudly. please do note this only includes wolfstar or multi-ship Marauders fics.

authors, if you want to be untagged, have your fic removed or have the one line summary changed, just message me.

all recs with ao3 links below the break <3

WIPs

All's Fair in Love and Trivia, by @cancerravenclaw ~75k, Explicit, Muggle. exes to lovers years after a huge, painful break-up. I've been eating this up with a spoon and re-read multiple times so far, it's soooo good. really hot ex-sex, yet also handles the complex emotions beautifully, and I love the group dynamics.

The Labyrinth, by QuillNib ~45k, Explicit (check tags), AU. Sirius is forced to sign a contract with an A/B/O breeding facility. really interesting take on omegaverse dynamics, very handmaid's tale vibes. great writing and plot, and keeps you on your toes constantly.

How To Jeopardise Your Friendship With Remus Lupin, by @amberlink ~200k, Teen, Hogwarts. everything you could ever want from a Hogwarts-era best friends to lovers fic. beautifully written, amazing characterisations and also just super funny and sweet. I love this Remus dearly, and this is one of those fics where you drop everything else when the update email comes in.

A Song for the End of the World, by @wannabelilybriscoe ~200k, Mature (check tags), AU. zombie apocalypse wolfstar!! amazing plot so far that really keeps you guessing, with great links to canon yet entirely fresh and inventive. wonderful friendship dynamics and writing, and I would die for this Sirius (but also lowkey steal his man).

Shorter finished works (<30k)

back to the old house, by @saintlupin 20k, Explicit, First War. Sirius, Regulus and Remus get stuck in grimmauld place and have to deal with the tension between them. absolutely beautiful, and painful in all the best ways like only saintlupin can achieve.

Sirius Black and the "mystery girl", by Anonymous 30k, Teen, Hogwarts. the marauders try to guess who Sirius is mysteriously dating. this one is so much fun, really light-hearted and joyful and a great twist with the Lily POV.

What I Heard, by fishcommuter / @fishpilgrim 28k, Explicit, Hogwarts. definition of idiots to lovers; wolfstar acting like a couple and having to be told they're basically dating. light-hearted, sweet, and a lot of fun.

The Barista, the Burglar, and the Sofa, by orphan_account 21k, Explicit, Muggle. summary reads "the story of how Sirius tries to seduce a man by slowly furnishing his flat" and.. that totally checks out. absolutely hilarious and very sweet, and I too would fold if Sirius Black bought me a bookshelf.

Wishes on Stars, by Quietlemonhush and @theresthesnitch 19k, Explicit, AU. Remus makes a wish upon a star and gains a friend. without spoiling too much, this one is a wonderful journey - so sweet, so beautiful, so poetic, so heart-warming.

A Good League Hence, by @eyra 15k, Teen, Muggle. a country hotel in the wintertime. I could put eyra's entire bibliography here as they're incredible, but this is one of my favs. sweet christmas fluff with animals and eyra's ever-incredible writing, just perfect.

June: or how Sirius finally figured himself out, by MarigoldWritesThings / @marigold-hills 15k, Explicit, Hogwarts. does what the title suggests, and wonderfully so. I adore this version of pining yet oblivious Sirius, and the writing here is stunning. tender and heart-warming.

Just a Little Bit of Magic, by @cancerravenclaw 25k, Explicit, Muggle. music journalist Remus falls in love at first sight with model Sirius at a club. flirting ensues. one of my favourites ever - sensual, delicious, beautifully written. the kind of fic I'm grateful exists, and secretly wish I could write.

Tear My Chest Open, by @puuvillaa 22k, Explicit (check tags), Post-Hogwarts. Remus never goes to Hogwarts and meets Sirius, who is taken, in a writing class. complicated feelings ensue. this one was painful, but beautiful. a beautiful expression of care and tenderness.

nothing sweeter than my baby, by damagecontrol 7k, Explicit, Muggle. wolfstar dads on a date night at a Hozier concert, except it's mostly sex. ridiculously hot and sexy, yet sweet and fun. one of my favs if I want something nsfw.

Match Point, by @billspaid 14k, General, Muggle. wolfstar as husbands who are both tennis players, inspired by Challengers. exactly what you want from it; ridiculously fun. competitive yet sweet as they go head-to-head. a blast.

lunch poems, by aeridi0nis / @steelycunt 5k, General, Muggle. tourist Sirius bothers bookstore employee Remus into adoration. aeridi0nis and their gorgeous gorgeous writing never disappoints and this was so much fun. swotty Remus my beloved.

Three Card Monte, by @enjambament 14k, Teen, Muggle. I love heist AU's and this is one of the best ones out there. tensive and exciting the whole way through, and this wolfstar... I want what those bitches have.

The Right Reason, by softsilkentofu 11k, Explicit, Post-Hogwarts. wolfstar get married (as friends) to evade anti-werewolf laws. incredibly funny and heart-warming, with great writing, and a fun twist on fake dating.

Longer finished works (30k+)

Dunes and Waters, by MarigoldWritesThings / @marigold-hills 36k, Explicit, AU. curse breaker/convict Sirius is forced to work with ancient Egypt researcher Remus on a riddle. I loved the mythology aspects of this and the twist on canon, and it was beautifully written.

The Road to Sweetwater, by Anonymous 57k, Explicit, AU. Wild West AU, with outlaw Sirius and bounty hunter Remus. I've been yelling about this one a lot recently - one of my all time favs, beautifully written and so brilliant. I'll be coming back to it for a long time.

The Spy Who Loved Him, by OptimisticDinosaur / @mostlyoptimisticdinosaur 35k, Explicit, AU. James Bond AU, with spy Sirius and 'man in the chair' Remus. intensely exciting and tensive, and so much fun. I really had a great time with this one.

an endless sky of honey, by @colgatebluemintygel 35k, Mature, AU. Greek mythology inspired; Sirius is a God, Remus is a mortal. that's all I'll say, you gotta go into this pretty blind, but it's just. incredible. toothpaste never misses and this one is really special.

through the gaps of sunlight, by grumposaur / @pancakehouse 48k, Explicit, AU. victorian era exes to lovers wolfstar with aristocrat Sirius... this one was so much fun, the yearning! the pining! the longing glances! I ate that shit up with a spoon.

The Waste Land, by afieryfox / @a-fiery-fox 51k, Mature, AU. Remus is a resistance fighter for the Order; Sirius joins the fight. brilliant wartime-wolfstar characterisation and a really tense and engaging plot, plus amazing writing. one of my favs of 2024.

love finds a way, by @littleoldrachel 60k, Mature, AU. Jurassic Park exes to lovers... who doesn't love dinos? Rachel always delivers with her writing and characterisations, and I'm obsessed with these nerdy, mopey versions of R & S.

Lie to Me (Another Secret), by Whoops_e 151k, Explicit, Hogwarts. Sirius is expelled from Beauxbatons and joins Hogwarts late. beautiful fic with a focus on mental health, with amazing dialogue and super tender wolfstar (one of my favs). the bathroom scene in ch40 is everything to me.

back when we were dinosaurs, by epicblueblanket / @kaaaaaaarf 37k, Explicit, Muggle. Remus and Sirius meet at their workplace, a museum in Toronto. paleontology!!! nerd Remus!!! sexy Sirius!! this has everything you want, just a perfect fic in every way.

Bonus recs that you've probably already read, and if you haven't you absolutely 100% should

Harry Potter and the Dog and the Wolf (series), by thewholeofthemoon ~605k overall, Mature. a retelling of canon (starting from POA) but with Peter captured and Wolfstar taking care of Harry, aka how we all wish canon had been. beautifully written and super original take on the story. it's long, but it's worth it for the wolfstar alone.

Hey, Sharpshooter, by @tortoisebore 200k, Explicit, Muggle. college, basketball player Remus meets figure skater Sirius. recently finished, and I couldn't not include it as this is in my top 5 most re-read and loved fics ever. it makes me want to pull out my teeth one by one (affectionately). they're engraved in my memory at this point.

on another ocean, by @colgatebluemintygel (WIP) ~133k, Explicit, Muggle. recently dumped Sirius drags Remus on a holiday across through Europe. if you haven't read this, please, please do. it's literally my favourite thing in the entire world. like, no competition. I would sacrifice my firstborn for this fic, and like, raze the city of Troy for this fic (my Helen).

Chimaera & The Wolf (series), by lostmy_keys / @lostmykeysie 337k, Mature, First War. Regulus and Remus work together to find the horcruxes. this one is popular, and for good reason; I devoured this, one of my favourite things I've ever read in my life. so exciting and tense, and the wolfstar is everything to me.

that's all, folks. this is just a small selection, I have read dozens more so if you want more you know where to find me. love always, Ames <3

[mullermilkshake]

Heeey, I few days ago i found your blog and I'm absolutely obsessed with your Yakuza!AU, and I was wondering if we can get more of Yakuza Suguru <3

Love your posts btw💞

Thanks so much!!! That's so kind of you to say, I'm literally so obsessed with the AU and there will be TONS of content to come over the next year.

I love Yakuza!Suguru so much it hurts XD

Enjoy some fluffy stuff <3

A gold band

Yakuza!Suguru x Wife!reader Tags: Yakuza AU, Wife reader, Fem reader, twin children, daughters, fluff, guilt, established relationship.

Suguru fiddled with the gold wedding band on his ring finger as the car pulled up to the house outside of Shinkuju. He was running far more than late than he anticipated, by now he was sure the girls were tucked into bed and you were waiting up for him fuming for missing dinner.

How on earth was he going to make up for this?

"Anything else you need before I go, sir?"

"No, that'll be all for tonight Miguel. Be sure to pick me up in the morning to visit the Nanami office though, you know how he likes punctuality."

Suguru opened the car door by himself and slipped out, eyeing the dingy night sky behind a torrent of dark stormed clouds just waiting to unleash its pressure over Tokyo.

Miguel leaned over and wound the window down. "Of course, should I bring breakfast?"

"No, I think I'll have breakfast with my girls in the morning, so just get what you want and head over after. Thanks for everything tonight."

"Sure thing, goodnight."

As the car drove away, Suguru drew in an anxious breath and adjusted the cuffs of his suit. By the time on his watch he had neglected to read on purpose as it would only make things worse, the time read way past the appropriate time to eat.

The depressive point being that by now, Suguru wasn't even hungry any more.

She's going to kill me for this, isn't she? Maybe. But that wouldn't be all that bad, because then he wouldn't have to deal with all this drama currently within the Ryomen clan to his name.

It couldn't be so bad to have his neck squeezed he supposed.

When he approached the front door, it was already unlocked. That wasn't ever a good sign. The lights were off besides the low table lamp in the living area, amber in the corner with warmth, and there you were sitting on the sofa with Mimiko and Nanako resting their sleeping heads on your lap.

"They wanted to wait for you to get back. Nanako threw an absolute fit because you weren't there to read them a story, so I compromised that they could wait."

"I'm sorry, dear. I never intended to be this late."

He knelt down in front of you and took your hand, feeling the same gold band on the same finger. Your body warmed it through, practically burning away at his guilt for leaving you sitting there in an empty room for dinner.

"It's alright, Miguel is quite the charmer when he wants to be," your smile was devious, more likely enough to show that Suguru wasn't in the dog house.

Thank goodness.

"I bet he can, I told him as much to tell you in person that I would be late. I'm counting on that he got his fill of dinner while he was here?"

You nodded slowly, watching the girls sleep. "He spent a little time with he girls before he was called away to the club."

The club was something he didn't need reminding of. The break in, the calculated theft and all round fuckery with Ryomen Sukuna's expectations.

Not tonight.

"So he was fooling around when he should have been working? I'll have him reprimanded immediately."

You stifled your laughter at his sarcasm, pressing your finger to his lips. "Leave the poor man alone."

The fact was Miguel loved the girls. Mimiko and Nanako adored him just as much and by this point in Suguru's life, Miguel was far more than just a fellow Yakuza.

He was true family.

"Daddy?" Nanako rubbed her little eyes and yawed, shifting her head from your lap to sit up and dangle her legs over the edge of the sofa.

"Hello Princess," He opened out his arms and pulled her into an embrace as she leant forward into him. "I heard you gave Mama a hard time when you had to sleep."

Her sleepy little head drooped suddenly as she fought to stay awake. "You were far away... and you promised to read us our book."

"I did, didn't I? I'm sorry I couldn't be there."

"So I ate your cake."

"My cake?"

Scooping Mimiko up who was long since passed out in her heavy dreamed sleep, you watched Suguru stand with such a nurturing smile. "I made cheesecake. The girls demolished it and almost nipped Miguels fingers off. He was lucky to even get a slice."

"I missed cheesecake?"

He missed your matcha cheesecake for that travesty at the club? Your special cheesecake that was his absolute favourite?

Nanako stretched sleepily and clung to his neck. "Uh huh..."

Maybe it was time for Suguru to leave his Yakuza life behind and just beg you to open up a sweet shop so he could taste your baking every day. It was a hell of a lot safer. Though one shop wouldn't pay for this house or the best of everything for his girls.

A pipe dream was better than nothing.

Suguru led the way to the stairs and took each step with you following close behind him. "How about this then? I'll make sure I'm home really early tomorrow and we'll go to the children's park."

"I love the park..." Mimiko's eyes rolled open, she clutched her little doll and snuggled into the crook of your neck.

"I know you do sweetheart, if you two sleep well then maybe you can do that with Daddy tomorrow. But only if you both go back to sleep and be good," you nuzzled back into her and brought your lips to her hair for sweet consecutive pecks.

"We are good... Mama," Nanako's words began to slur.

And by the time you and Suguru reached the girls bedroom, they were out in dreamland once more. They clung to their blankets and toys sprawled across their covers and balled up close with delicate snores and breaths.

Suguru could have watched them all night snoozing away innocently, totally unaware of the horrors and disgusting shit out in the Shinjuku district.

All the unspeakable things their own Father had done.

"Don't do that."

"Hmm?" Suguru turned to see you leaving the bedroom.

"That thing you do when you feel guilty about what you do for a living. Whenever the time comes and they find out, they'll still love you. Just like I do."

"I know you do, just like you always have. I just can't help but wonder what we'll be like in fifteen years."

Will the Yakuza still be the height it had been for the last decade, or would it shift completely? Suguru had two twin girls to think about.

That wasn't to say he didn't enjoy his lifestyle. He did. He grew up alongside his sworn brother and became a man in a way that was respectful. He evolved with you right there next to him.

Still, this wasn't the life he wanted for his girls.

And it was obvious to him that you knew that too. "We'll still be a family, Suguru. That's all that matters, right?"

He only nodded and closed the gap between you to hold you close to him. "I'm sorry I was late, Dear. You and the girls are what matter most to me."

"I know, and there's still some of the night left," you pulled away just a fraction to look up at him. "I managed to sneak a slice of cheesecake away from the girls when they weren't looking."

"You know the way to my heart, don't you?"

"That's one way to your heart for sure. I just so happen to know to you like the back of my hand."

Suguru leant in and pressed his lips to yours, so short and sweet it would have melted the very foundations of the house. "I can't deny that. You're best at reading me like a book when no one else can."

"Besides Satoru I suppose."

You often joked that Satoru was a third member in this marriage. Just the thought made Suguru hide his chuckle into your shoulder as he leant down.

"Yeah, Besides Satoru."

On a night like this, Suguru knew that whatever happened, things would be alright.

Because he had his family.

[the-golden-comet]

✨Your Wish Is My Command: Available Now on AO3 and Amazon Books! 🧞‍♂️✨

Don’t mind me…just gonna casually drop YWIMC during my the Friday Kiss Tag slot 👀💋✨

✨🌈That’s right!🌈✨You read that correctly: Your Wish Is My Command is available now FOR FREE on Archive Of Our Own! Just one of the many ways I share thanks to the reading, writing and art communities~! ✍️💛

✨ For additional and optional support, a digital version is available on Amazon Kindle eBooks for $5.00 ✨

To give thanks for this Thanksgiving season, I buckled down for “Novelember” and finished all my editing, drafting, and publishing of the long-awaited Your Wish Is My Command! Figured I’d keep in line with the tradition of publishing the day after thanksgiving 😂✨

Thank you all for your support of my project, your tag games, you interactions, fanarts, fanfiction, kudos, and love!! Creating stories gives me so much joy, and sharing them with a wider audience is all the merrier. Between all of my projects, I have received so many kind comments and fanmail that have really touched my heart; To hear how much my stories have inspired creativity within the community is humbling to the point of tears. I cannot overstate my gratitude to everyone here enough: Thank you, from the bottom of my heart 💛✨

Now, sappiness aside: Enjoy the MANY kisses of Noah and Ali for yourself, and be sure to leave me kudos and a comment on AO3 and Tumblr telling me how you liked it! I’ll be on my mandatory 2 week writing break (to avoid burnout), but I’ll be around to answer asks and get your reactions 💛💫✨

As always, I will make all of my stories available for free on AO3, but if you want to support me further you can buy a digital copy of my books! ✨

Reblog this post to spread the word of YWIMC’s Release, and Happy Reading! 💫

✨👇Tag list for writing snippets below. DM me if you’d like to be added 👇✨

Tag List for writing tidbits (lmk if you want + or -) 🧞‍♂️✨

@autism-purgatory , @jev-urisk , @talesofsorrowandofruin , @castiels-favorite-hunter , @wyked-ao3 ,

@glasshouses-and-stones , @alinacapellabooks , @gioiaalbanoart , @tragedycoded , @deanwax ,

@dyrewrites , @honeybewrites , @drchenquill , @paeliae-occasionally , @lychhiker-writes ,

@thatuselesshuman , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @phynewrites , @zackprincebooks , @fantasy-things-and-such ,

@finickyfelix , @billybatsonmylove , @madi-konrad , @houseplantblank , @far-cry-from-finality ,

@froggy-pposto , @fractured-shield , @avaseofpeonies , @topazadine , @thecoolerlucky ,

@theaistired , @somethingclevermahogony , @noxxytocin , @the-inkwell-variable , @seastarblue ,

@leahnardo-da-veggie , @addicted2coke-theothercoke , @illarian-rambling , @mysticstarlightduck , @the-letterbox-archives ,

@ominous-feychild , @saturnine-saturneight , @words-after-midnight , @hemlocks-grove , @cowboybrunch ,

@yourpenpaldee , @moltenwrites , @pixies-love-envy , @davycoquette , @writeahurricane ,

@nczaversnick , @greenfinchwriter , @oliolioxenfreewrites , @lavender-gloom , @smellyrottentrees ,

@aintgonnatakethis , @thecomfywriter , @pluppsauthor , @michellekarnold , @flurrysahin ,

@authorcoledipalo , @jadeglas , @spookyceph , @astramachina , @48lexr ,

@inseasofgreen , @agirlandherquill , @saebasanart , @leatafandom , @justabigoldnerd ,

@pippinoftheshire , @just-emis-blog, @aalinaaaaa , @badscientist , @dearunreliablenarrator ,

@worlds-tallest-fairy , @rhikasa , @eccaiia , @theink-stainedfolk , @theverumproject ,

@theprissythumbelina , @riveriafalll , @revenancy , @inadequatecowboy , @amielbjacobs ,

@patternwelded-quill , @sugarchains , @garthcelyn , @prettytothink-so , @leahpardo-pa-potato ,

@winvyre , @speaknowbuckley , @lamuradex , @wintherlywords , @sharkblizzardblogs ,

@dragoninatrenchcoat , @darekasama , @recklessgirl56 , @kokoass , @ziote ,

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@irolynn , @petitprincess1 , @macinchiz , @owlsandwich , @stephtuckerauthor,

@sarandipitywrites , @mauvecatfic , @finchwrites , @aurumni-writes , @uiraya ,

@justanotherchangeling , @ahopelessnecromantic , @ryns-ramblings , @oleanderbailey , @365runesofthesystem ,

@vesanal ,

[skullvgirl]

tag games my favorite, ty for the tag lovey 🫂

heylo party people, my name is skullvgirl, v, or vena !! ^.^

how do you spend your free time? mostly writing ( but never publishing or finishing my own work ) or reading and doomscrolling ( ᴖ̈ ) . lately i've been watching alot of netflix shows.

what are your hobbies and how did you get into them? i obviously like writing alot, i also draw and play bass. I started writing because well, wattpad found me a a young age and since then i havent stopped lol. my sister got me into drawing when i was young and it's always been kind of a side thing untill recent im getting more serious abt it :3. i play the bass from time to time, my dad taught me, but I havent played in a while now.

what book or movie left a lasting impression on you? okay so book? theres quite a few but currently, as of now I have to say A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara ( and if you've read it you know exactly why ) no spoilers but it's really, emotional and it kind of opened my eyes to certian things ( in an adulthood perspective!! ) as far as movie? none, i don't really watch movies that often BUT i do watch alot of shows and Arcane Act ii and iii just came out recently and yeah, also no spoilers but that shit was absolute HEAT. That or Interveiw With The Vampire, love a well written gay couple story

what kind of music do you enjoy? i know this is basic to say but any genre is fine, ( yes, even country ). My favorite genre's however are indie, anything alternative and super kawaii bass ( things like snails house and the sort ) , i have a couple hundred favorite artists so ill spare you all for. kw but thats the gist of what i listen too.

who is your favorite character ( atm or all time) and why? okay atm, probably jinx from arcane bc somehow i feel like i can relate to her, plus shes a crashout and thats always fun, of all time? definitely the one and only isagi yoichi guys theres no argument here, hes just a perfect mix of 'humble and generally sweet mc' and 'd1 hater/crashout' i love it i love him, my fav UGH. animale character to real life machine when??

np tags !! ( @miffue, @aleixis, @thebestsetter, @tulippanes ) + anyone who wants to join !! 💕

tag + q&a game ₊˚ෆ

hello! i thought it would be cute and exciting to do a tag game with all my mutuals to not only talk about themselves, but have fun! so here is my short little game:

alongside this picrew, share 5 things about yourself!

• how do you spend your free time? • what are your hobbies and how did you get into them? • what book or movie left a lasting impression on you? • what kind of music do you enjoy? • who is your favorite character (atm or all time) and why?

i will start first!

my name is rurumi and i enjoy spending my free time writing!

some of my hobbies (outside of writing) includes: drawing, building gundams and keyboards, and fashion! i got into most of them on a whim and became instantly hooked. aside from self-expression, being into fashion also helps with making friends in college because you always have something to talk about!

a book that left a lasting impression on me would have to be either kafka on the shore by haruki murakami or before the coffee gets cold by toshikazu kawaguchi. both stories have kept me up at night thinking a lot about the 'what ifs' in life.

i enjoy soul/r&b alongside anything of jrock influence, but i will basically listen to anything that sounds good. i am currently listening to 'so what' by lucy!

my favorite character at the moment is rin itoshi from blue lock because hes so ridiculously edgy, but at the same time i sympathize with him a lot. on the other hand, my favorite character of all time is suletta mecury from the witch from mercury series, she's an absolute ball of sunshine that i aspire to be.

tagging (+ no pressure) ₊˚ෆ

@kaiser1ns @naenaex0xx @shomatoriashi @choccorin @ryescapades

@rindreamery @soleillunne @kissxcore @rainswept @mitsvriii

[lemotmo]

Sometimes I can't believe they're real

Q. I don't understand how Oliver can say Buck's bisexuality isn't tied to Tommy. He didn't know he was bisexual before Tommy. There was zero need for Oliver to say his bisexuality isn't tied to Eddie because Eddie has nothing to do with Buck's bisexuality but Tommy literally gave Buck his realization. His bisexuality is absolutely tied to Tommy.

A. So we are rapidly approaching the final ask I will answer on the subject of Tommy or Lou because they are no longer a part of the show. Tommy may be mentioned from time to time from a narrative perspective, though I personally believe it might be one more time at best, but Lou is long gone, thank god, so continuing to talk about either one of them is unnecessary. But I am going to respond to this because this level of absurdity is mind boggling. Your sexuality isn't tied to a specific person or relationship. A person's sexuality belongs to that person and only that person. Buck was bisexual before he realized he was bisexual. Buck is still bisexual even though his relationship with Tommy is over. If the fling he is going to have in 8b, and stop trying to talk yourselves into believing it will be some other kind of vice it won't be, he will have a fling (although hopefully it will be with the person who ends up abducting him), is with a woman he will still be bisexual. He will be bisexual when he's with Eddie. He will always be bisexual. Tommy gave him his first bisexual experience, but that doesn't entitle Tommy to Buck's bisexuality. Abby gave him his first adult relationship and Tommy gave him his first bisexual relationship. Both of those people will always be significant for Buck because of those two things, but neither one of them is owed any kind of ownership over Buck or his identity in any way. They were his firsts. That's the only title either one of them will ever have. Buck was a bisexual man before, during, and after both relationships. Buck not being aware of his bisexuality prior to Tommy doesn't mean it didn't exist before him. And it certainly still exists after him. So Oliver was correct in making sure people understood that no matter who Buck ends up with in his life he will always be a bisexual man. The fact that you don't seem to understand how this works is why Oliver needed to say what he did. You're part of the group of people he was talking too, anon. Hope this helps.

Thank you Nonny!

Yep, yep and yep! I overall agree with Ali.

The only thing I don't fully agree with is that Buck will have another fling in the beginning of 8b. To be honest? Personally, I don't think he will and that he'll try to distract himself with something else. This isn't me trying to fool myself by the way. 😋

Tim did talk about Buck getting into 'something', not 'someone'. Yes, I am aware that Tim is a lying liar that lies, so I could be wrong. 😂 But I have a hunch that they won't take the same old tired path for Buck this time and instead they'll have him involved in something unexpected. What? I haven't the faintest idea. 🤷‍♀️

We'll just have to wait and see.

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[moonstrider9904]

feuilles d'automne

Steb x fem!Reader (Enforcer)

Summary: Amid your assignment to guard a fancy old folks' home in Piltover, you find yourself speechless when you stumble upon a pair of ocean eyes.

Word count: 3.9k

Tags/warnings: Mature and SFW, flirting, kissing, mild suggestivenes if you squint. Enforcer!Reader. Fluff in general, pre-relationship, first meetings, awkward situations, and I accidently created a side original character who I adore. Enjoy!

Sequel: après la bataille | My Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Thank you to everyone who's read, reblogged, and commented on après la bataille. I did not expect it to be met with so much love and support. Our precious fishman husband would be happy to know such a lovely bunch of people are his fans. You have all made writing these stories all the more fun and enjoyable 💙

The scene before you looked like it could have been taken from an Ionian painting. Rays of golden sunlight peered through the spaces between orange, red, and yellow leaves of many trees around the courtyard of the Verona old folks’ home, a peaceful place that lay in the northern outskirts of Piltover, far away from Zaun and the heart of the city where the shops and the smog could cloud the horizon.

Your assignment was simple: make sure the elderly folks who lived their days out in that home didn’t get into trouble. You couldn’t think of anything less challenging to an enforcer hungry to serve, not that you’d complain. It was work, and it was quite the lovely setting. Standing on the porch of the main building, a large mansion built in white stone with a dark blue stone tile roof, its architectural style being some fusion of classic Piltovan and mild Ionian influences in the details and finishings, you breathed in the clean, fresh air. Your eyes would continue to scan the celestial beams of light bleeding through the trees and eventually finding rest either in the grass, cobblestone paths, or even the small glistening pond at the very center of the courtyard.

On the bridge that went over the pond was an old couple who, according to what you’d heard so far, had known each other since they were children—how beautiful to spend a lifetime next to someone, and to face one’s own twilight in a place as peaceful and beautiful as that, holding the hand of the person who’d been through it all with you. It was a bittersweet thought, but such a place evoked those emotions in you, and suddenly, you felt lonely, longing and yearning for a companion. Regardless, you remained the only enforcer manning your post, forcing yourself to tear your attention away from romanticizing the peace of the scenery you beheld to keep watch of the elderly in your charge, only to be met by—surprise—no signs of trouble.

And then you heard the whistle. You weren’t particularly fond of the high-pitched sound of your own whistle, a part of your gear as an enforcer to use as a first means to dissipate any trouble you encountered, or simply to call attention to anything of note. You weren’t exactly happy by the fact that the whistle you heard at that peaceful moment, now broken, hadn’t been your own. Your knowledge up until that moment had been that you were the only enforcer on duty at the courtyard, and you sooner would have contemplated the possibility of one particularly mischievous elderly woman sneaking it away from you and blowing it to cause her equivalent of a riot in an old folks’ home, than to face the possibility of a counterpart entering the scene to aid in your assignment. When the whistle faded from your ears, you looked over your shoulder.

Only half looking forward to the encounter and with little hopes of it being transcendent, when your eyes caught even a glimpse of the whistle’s perpetrator, you lost the ability to move. Any notion of how to blink or breathe seemed to leave you, and if you were turning your neck to allow your gaze to follow his figure, you were sure it was his doing, drawing your eyes to him like a magnet, rather than your own will. You had just started to feel the air and the sunlight sting at your unblinking eyes, and then you saw that his own were now looking at you. The golden leaves and grass of autumn faded for a moment into an endless oceanic hue that could make you feel immersed in the deepest seas far off the other side of Runeterra. And for the amount of detail you picked up on during that single glance, you could have sworn you’d been staring for ages already—the way his blue-green skin contrasted with the rich blue of his uniform and even more so with the golden landscape, the way his resting face appeared so unamused that it made you fear yourself unworthy of speaking to him, the subtle lines near his jawline that you found out to be gills, and possibly the most stunning of all, the delicate frills crowning his eyes that could nearly be mistaken for the rest of the markings decorating his skin.

And for all the distance in this Vastayan enforcer, his eyes seemed to become more round as he too looked at you, with his gaze visibly softening for a moment while the frills around his eyes moved in a delicate wave before coming to a halt. Your mind replayed that scene for you countless times, and for the way you felt your chest swelling, you figured it was a miracle you weren’t yet flat on the ground.

“Hark,” you squawked, failing miserably in your first attempt to greet him.

He raised a brow and didn’t do much more for gestures, making you wish you could blend into the nearest tree trunk and stay there.

“It is time for them to return inside, is it not?” He finally spoke in a thick, elegant accent, and the rich sound of his voice dissipated your embarrassment. His voice was baritone, deep and far smoother than you could have expected—for a moment you couldn’t believe it could really be coming from him. His striking physique alone was already too much to contend with.

“Y-Yeah,” you brought yourself back to stability, fidgeting among the pouches of your belt to pull out your pocket watch and glanced at the time. 4:01 exactly—yes, it was time for them to go inside, and the telltale hand of the pocket watch tilted slightly off the 12 mark let you know you had been in awe of this man for a solid minute, and you were already done for. The pocket watch may as well have been laughing at you. But you closed it up and put it back into your pouch, exhaling with as much confidence as you could muster. “Yes, 4:00 is the cutoff, and they’re expected to be coming back in to prepare for dinner.”

“Then why aren’t they coming?” He asked, glancing out at the old folks who continued to enjoy their time in the chilly fresh air and sunlight.

“Oh, I usually opt for a different signal,” you answered, taking a step forward and inhaled all the way to your belly. “TIME’S UP, COME IN FOR DINNER!”

Your six words caught the attention of all the elderly scattered in the courtyard and, slowly but surely, they all began making their way towards the porch where you stood, chatting pleasantly amongst themselves and their aides. It was hard for you not to giggle when you looked over at your new acquaintance and saw his round eyes gazing at you, his frills standing upright at the shock of such a loud voice emerging from you.

“I’ve been doing this for a week,” you flaunted.

“I can…” he trailed off for a moment as he flinched his gaze over to the courtyard again. “Tell… though even with your lungs, you missed one.”

You looked in the direction he was gazing, and you weren’t surprised when you saw the youngest soul in the entire old folks’ home getting ready to rebel against your command. The dowager Mrs. Evelyn McCawley, or Granny Evelyn as you’d come to call her, was a short little old woman who made one think of hugs and freshly baked cookies. That day, she was wearing a bright red sweater and her hair was packed into a neat low bun, and she was looking over at you and your new companion from the other side of the pond as though wanting to get your attention. You knew her well already, but you once again wanted to giggle at how your new partner must have been puzzled by her, unaware of the sheer amount of stunts you’d already witnessed from that woman.

“You won’t take me!” Granny Evelyn shouted and turned her back on you, charging as fast as she could (and that wasn’t very a fast walk, mind you) for a tree nearby.

“Is she well?” He asked you.

You chuckled. “Yeah, she does this. The high point of Granny Evelyn’s day is the courtyard, and that’s saying something, as you can probably tell from her charming demeanor. You’ll never meet anyone who has more fun with life than her.”

There was no need to watch over the rest of the elderly walking onto the porch, as any of them who needed help were already being guided by their nurses. You and your companion kept your gaze fixed on a whooping and giggling Granny Evelyn as she took quick, small little steps toward the tree until reaching the trunk, clutching her hands onto it, and lowering herself to the ground where she lay face down on the grass, her little frame illuminated by the rays of sun that escaped through the leaves.

“Can she get up from there on her own?” Your new companion asked, his eyes widening in concern.

“Nope,” you chuckled, unbothered. “Someone better check on her.”

“I’ve got this,” he said, starting his way in Granny Evelyn’s direction.

“Oh, she’ll be fine,” you replied as you picked up on the concern in his deep, luscious voice. “She just needs help getting off the ground.”

You walked after him through the dreamy courtyard and crossed the bridge over the pond—in other circumstances, your curiosity would get the better of you, and you’d make more of a play to spend some time with him in that romantic bridge, maybe finally ask him what his name was, but flirting while Granny Evelyn lay on the grass would raise more than a few red lights in upper command. Eventually, you both reached Granny Evelyn, splattered face down on the grass in a star-like position, and her back suddenly fluttered with a giggle.

“You’ve done this four times this week,” you said to her.

“And every time, I succeed in staying out here longer!” Granny Evelyn teased, her voice muffled in the grass.

“Well, unlucky for you, now I have help,” you tilted your head, and your companion took your words as his cue to get down on his knees to aid Granny Evelyn.

“Ma’am, I’m going to help you up now, if that’s alright,” he said politely, and authority swam in his voice. Granny Evelyn picked up on the unique timbre and rich qualities that floated to her ears, and yours as well, and she jerked her head to the side in his direction to get a glimpse of him.

“Oh?” Granny Evelyn giggled. “Oh, my! Yes, of course you can help me, mister… could you be so kind as to let an old lady know your name?”

He directed a smile at Granny Evelyn, one so discreet and smooth you had to tighten your whole body to keep from sighing dreamily at the sight, or whimpering at how ridiculously gorgeous he was. It was then that you were also able to notice his ears tilted slowly downward, though this was mostly concealed by his uniform hat, and when he gave a slow blink, you picked up on the third eyelid subtly appearing in the movement.

“You may call me Steb,” he said.

“Oh, please help me up, Mr. Steb,” Granny Evelyn’s eyes sparkled at him, and as Steb helped her back up to standing, her gaze shifted between you and him. “Look at you both, so young and bright and loyal to your city.” As she continued glancing at you both, you were able to look away from Steb for long enough to notice the childlike mischief that flashed through her eyes before she fixed her gaze on him again.

“Oh, you are indeed a looker, stunning in your own right!” Granny Evelyn then called you by your name. “Isn’t Steb handsome, dearie?”

You pulled to a halt, and your wide eyes inevitably drifted over to Steb, feeling heat rushing to your cheeks with no signs of stopping or hope of discretion. His ocean blue eyes met yours, and he was also visibly caught off guard by the question, and just as Steb was opening his mouth to speak, possibly to have swiftly dismissed the whole matter and returned things to normal, you just had to open yours.

“Yeah,” the syllable left you quickly, nearly in a whimper, and immediately you felt incapable of meeting his gaze, wishing a chasm would suddenly open in the ground beneath you so that you could use it to be transported far away from there.

“I think so too!” Granny Evelyn’s chirpy cheer diffused some of the tension, and she then turned to Steb. “She’s quite lovely too, is she not?”

Though you were trying not to look at him, you noticed Steb’s calm exterior faltered for a fraction of a second before regaining his composure, and his beautiful eyes were no longer on you.

“I guess,” he answered.

Instantly, you turned your head back in his direction, and against your will, your gaze narrowed at his claim.

“You guess?” Heat rushed to your cheeks again while your brows knit together.

“Woops!” Granny Evelyn said. “Dinner time, folks! I need to be inside!”

With a sigh, you forced your frustrations away and linked your arm in Granny Evelyn’s, leading her across the courtyard and back to the porch while Steb lingered behind the two of you, carefully following your pace in silence. At the top of the porch’s stairs, a nurse waited for Evelyn, and you handed her off with a polite smile, watching as the cheeky granny disappeared into the building. In a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the embarrassment, knowing Steb was still nearby, you pondered on how much of a menace Granny Evelyn must have been as a kid if her old age kept up that amount of spunk.

Now that the elderly were inside preparing for the rest of their evening, you were off duty. You ran out of thoughts and excuses to keep your back turned on him, and as if to emphasize that, you soon heard Steb pacing up the stairs, stopping just a couple of steps below you. You turned around and looked at him, no longer enraged like before, but with your guard up and nowhere near the same amount of dewey-eyed desire you had when you first lay your gaze on him. Steb’s eyes held concern in them, and you knew he was aware of how he made you feel. He then removed his hat, and much to your dismay, he was far more attractive without it.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “Would you forgive me?”

You crossed your arms and frowned, angling your body away from him. “I guess,” you spat, quoting him.

A sigh left him, though his lips seemed to curve in the hint of a smile. “I really am sorry. I know you’d rather have heard another response, and… I would rather have said something else.”

Some part of you wanted to admit you’d hoped he’d also, in some way, audibly confirmed he found you attractive. Mundane as it seemed, you felt something like that could make your day. You angled yourself toward him again, your gaze softening as you looked at him—confound how beautiful he looked even when he apologized. Holding his hat at his side, Steb’s gaze softened too, and his round eyes held a tender gleam that somehow made him seem like he was pouting. You thought of how different this look on his face was from the one with which he first walked on the porch, blowing the whistle. At the same time, you noticed his ears slowly tilting up, expecting your answer. But an instinct within you overruled whatever it was you wanted to confess to him, and intrusive thoughts of how everything could become complicated and how embarrassed you felt came pouring in, and you quickly turned around.

“My shift is over,” was the last thing you said, and you ran away from the porch.

You didn’t even want to think of the disappointment Steb felt watching you run away, and you wouldn’t let yourself ponder on how you’d blown it with him in a second. The week that followed that incident wasn’t any easier for you. Steb made attempts to talk to you and make things right, but you wouldn’t budge, and you kept your distance. Naturally quiet as he was, it seemed he wasn’t making much of your situation anymore, and nearly one week after the unfortunate event, you were convinced nothing more of note would happen in regard to the two of you.

One day, you found yourself carrying out your courtyard duty standing alone on the bridge over the pond. Things were as lovely and peaceful in the courtyard as they always were, and you were finally able to focus on the chilly autumn air that you loved so much, as opposed to recent events. Your shift was almost over, and you were looking forward to it being calm and uneventful, but when you heard steps coming onto the bridge—steps that were far too quick and well-placed to belong to an elder—you began to suspect something else was in store.

“Will you really not talk to me again?”

When Steb’s deep, smooth voice filled your senses, you could no longer deny how much you missed him. You turned around and faced him as he cautiously walked up to you at the top of the bridge, stopping a couple paces away from you.

“It’s not like you need much talking anyway,” you replied. “I’ve seen how quiet you are. Besides, you have your whistle.”

He gave a shy chuckle, and you noticed him exhale some tension away.

“It’s a start,” he said, mostly to himself. When you didn’t utter a response, he inched closer to you and tilted his head down slightly to one side, his bright eyes catching yours. “Hey…”

The softness of his voice paired with the beauty of his eyes were a lot for you to handle, and suddenly you didn’t trust yourself to resist him anymore. Your gaze softened at him, looking up at him with a tender gleam of hope not unlike what you felt when you first met him.

“Can I start over?” Steb asked you.

The chilly air began to blow stronger, ruffling the trees around the courtyard. You replied in a soft chuckle and playfully rolled your eyes, gazing out at the courtyard filled with elderly folks enjoying the day.

“We’re supposed to be on duty,” you said.

“Yes, but I’ve seen enough of this place to know the only person we should worry about getting in trouble is sitting up on the porch having a cup of tea,” he said as his eyes looked over at Granny Evelyn, who sat on a rocking chair smiling far away from you both. “I think it’ll be fine.”

With a soft laugh, you tore your gaze from the courtyard and looked at Steb, raised a brow at him, and shook your head smiling.

“I can’t believe you,” your eyes sparkled at him. “Fine, you may start over.”

Steb smiled at you, looking more handsome than you ever thought possible, and slowly he moved closer to you, meeting your gaze with flirtatious eyes.

“Hi,” was all he needed to say for you to know you were done for.

You laughed, bewildered at the power this Vastaya held over you, and at the fact that you had tried to push him away when it was clear that what was happening at that moment was all you’d wanted.

“Hi,” you giggled in return, feeling your cheeks getting hot.

A strong gust of wind powered through your silhouettes, blowing your uniform hat right off your head for it to land on the wooden floor of the bridge. You and Steb both let out small exclamations of surprise, and he bent over to grab your hat for you. When he stood up straight and held it out for you to take, you noticed that the gust of wind had blown a single, dry, golden leaf onto Steb’s shoulder. You looked up at him, loving how he still stood out incredibly in that autumn landscape, and you both smiled softly at each other. Before you took your hat, you reached your hand up to Steb’s shoulder and you gently took the leaf that had landed on him, casting it aside as delicately as it had fallen. But after the leaf was gone, your hand lingered on his shoulder, and tension built between you as you both remained there. Your smile had faded into the nerves that came with being so close to him in such a lovely setting, but it returned to your lips when Steb smiled back at you and his gaze softened in adoration.

You stopped thinking and let your hands guide you through the moment. You pressed your palm onto his shoulder and let it travel to the crook of his neck, and you pulled Steb down closer to you, perking on your toes, and you shyly kissed his lips. You basked in how smooth his skin was under your fingertips and how warm he was, and before you exploded into nerves, you heard your hat dropping onto the bridge floor, feeling both of Steb’s hands cupping your face, gently yet firmly, as he kissed you back. The shyness fled from you, and you kissed Steb more securely when you felt him reciprocate, sliding your arms around his shoulders and pressing your body to him—you didn’t give a Yordle’s mitten if anyone was watching or muttering about you, or if you were on duty. All that mattered was that, as you kissed him, you felt Steb smiling into your lips and his hands traveling down around your waist.

Your mind exploded in fireworks the longer you two kissed, and your thoughts jumped from possibility to possibility; all the firsts you could have with him, all the places you could hold his hand and all the ways you could explore his body and all the markings on his skin, but you knew that would come later, and at the moment you could delight fully in the feeling of him kissing you. Yes, you were absolutely smitten, and you were looking forward to much, much more of that.

From the porch, you and Steb were being watched with a warm smile. Evelyn McCawley had seen a lot in her lifetime, and each experience had taught her to view life with the wonder a child would have. Her eyes could no longer spot a butterfly from afar, but she could see you and Steb finally getting along all too well, and a smile lit her features in hope and subtle heartbreak. Seeing the two of you in uniform sharing a loving moment reminded her of when she was a young nurse charmed by a handsome soldier—she saw her and her beloved in the two of you. And with that same smile, Granny Evelyn pulled a wrinkled picture from the pocket of her purple knit sweater, gazing at the eyes that looked upon her from beyond.

“Young love, eh, Rafe?” She chuckled. “I hope those two have what you and I had, and I sure hope they have the chance to see each other through to the end. I do miss you, dearie.”

Granny Evelyn then put the picture back in the pocket over her heart, and she stood up from her chair, setting her tea on the little table beside it, pondering on what mischief she could possibly do now to bring you and Steb ever closer.

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Read part II here >