#so if there’s something else i should tag those dynamics please let me know

[sapphosclown]

uh oh! cynthia angst in my brain!! watch out!!

[elflutter]

— i'll love you forever (a momma, you'll be)

kinktober 03 → ruts & breeding kink

in a rut!logan x f!reader

synopsis

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been waiting for this day: Logan at his most fertile; you at yours. Even though you’ve talked about it, stopped your birth control for it, an an unspoken question still lingers in his gaze. You’re sure about this? You really want a baby with an old man like me?

wordcount: 2.7k

tags/warnings below the cut!

tags/warnings: explicit (18+ mdni), worst wolverine, light a/b/o dynamics (ruts), breeding kink, daddy kink, light dom/sub, age gap (reader is 25+), logan calls himself old man, pet names (incl. sweetheart, baby, momma), unprotected p i v, creampie, fingering, mention of a safeword (not used), reader is ovulating, mentions of pregnancy, pussy pronouns (she/her), logan can pick up reader (but he can lift up to 800 lbs so), logan calls reader's pussy his, no use of y/n. i'm sure i've forgotten something, please let me know if i have!

a/n: idk what came over me with this one omfg. some of this filth was definitely influenced by some other amazing fics i've read this kinktober. the way you want to by @eupheme and baby fever by @silverskyeline come to mind specifically! please go give them some love if you enjoy this one, hehe. and thank you @sceletaflores for hyping up all my depraved ideas, ily

Your boyfriend’s mutation provides certain… perks to your relationship. Firstly, he’s strong enough to pick you up like you weigh less than nothing. And with the healing factor, his refractory period is practically non-existent. But, you think your favorite part of his mutation might be the one on display right now.

Logan’s pupils are blown wide the moment he walks through the door to your shared apartment. The front of his flannel is dark with sweat, a common sight after another long day at the construction job Wade helped secure for him a couple years back. But, from the bulge is already visible through worn jeans, you think all that sweat might be from something else, too. Something that sends electricity shooting down your spine, because you’ve been waiting for this.

Logan clicks the door shut, twisting the lock behind him without looking away from you, his stare heavy and heated. He pulls off his work boots like he cant rid himself of them fast enough, and you’re surprised the well broken-in leather doesn’t rip under his ironclad grip. The thought of that grip on your body, those fingers pressed into the plush of your thighs, has warmth pooling in your core— thick and sweet, like honey in your veins. Heavy and intoxicating, like the whiskey on his breath when you first met.

His biceps bulge beneath rolled-up sleeves as he reaches down to adjust his hard-on, and he prowls to where you sit on the couch, body twisted so you can keep your eyes on him. When Logan finally reaches you in the living room, you’re certain you’ve soaked through the lace of your panties. You straighten out your torso to face forward as he kneels in front of you, spreading your legs to accommodate his broad form.

His voice is as rough and dark as the denim of his work jeans when he finally speaks. His grip hard on your ass, just how you like it. Fingers dig into the thin fabric of your leggings as he pulls your body to the edge of the couch.

“Rut’s here, sugar.” He buries his nose against your hair, breathing in deep— the warm vanilla of your shampoo mixing with the heady scent of your arousal. He speaks into your hair, like he wants to bury himself there. “And I could fuckin’ smell you from the hallway. Drippin’ for me, huh?” He nuzzles in even deeper then, indulging.

You wait for his nose to pick it up— that you’re fertile. You should be, if you’re tracking correctly. You pray that you are. You think you must be ovulating, from the throbbing ache you’ve felt all day. Aching for Logan, for his thick girth to split you open, to be full of him. For that moment, as he empties within you, of soul-deep connection.

When Logan groans against you, the sound a broken thing, your racing heart kicks up a beat. He’s scented it; you’re certain. Logan pulls back, his large hands moving to cradle your face with a gentleness that sends a pang through your chest.

“Baby, are you—” He searches your eyes for an answer, as if he can peer into them and see your desires.

Even during these ruts, when his body burns with an ache only for you, to fuck and to fill, to claim, you call the shots. You tell him to stop, that it’s too much, and he will. He’s still Logan, always in control of himself. It’s not unlike how your sex drive changes, during your own cycle. And, shit, you’re weak for it. Always have been.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been waiting for this day: Logan at his most fertile; you at yours. Even though you’ve talked about it, stopped your birth control for it, an an unspoken question still lingers in his gaze.

You’re sure about this? You really want a baby with an old man like me?

You nod; the sting in your chest drowning out the ache in your core for a moment. One day, you hope, he’ll see that you want everything he could possibly give you.

“Yeah, baby. It’s time, I’m ovulating.” Leaning forward, you press your forehead against his, fingers moving to rub gentle circles in his hair. “Please, Lo. Want your baby.”

His lips crash into yours, then, before he’s scooping you up. You hook your feet behind his back as he carries you to the bed, peppering you with kisses and breathy murmurs in your ear.

“Alright, sweetheart, want me to fuck a baby into that sweet little cunt?” His teeth are on your earlobe, hot breath grazing each of his love-bites. You’ve melted into putty in his hands when he finally sets you down on the plush surface of the bed, mind a haze of lust and longing. “Gonna look so good with my baby in you, my little momma.”

Your cheeks grow hot, his words nestling through your mind and finding a home in the dull throbbing between your legs. His name escapes your lips in a needy whine. Before you can say anything else, he flips you onto your stomach. His grip finds your hips, pulling up until your ass is in the air right at the edge of the bed; face buried in the covers.

Logan’s hands move to cup the swell of your bottom as he stands behind you, humming in satisfaction.

“Such a pretty little present, comin’ home to her every day.” Your face heats as you realize he’s not talking to you, but your pussy. “She’s fucking drippin’ for me, isn’t that right?”

All you can manage is a nod and a pathetic whimper, words lost somewhere in the haze of desire.

His palms brush up your back, until he reaches out to grab one of your breasts, his other hand supporting his upper body as he leans over you until you feel his hot breath against your ear.

“Already cock drunk, Momma? Haven’t even touched you yet.”

“L- Logan, please—” you keen. You don’t even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed about your desperation. You feel so achingly empty— just need his cock in your pussy; his come deep and warm inside your womb. The pet-name plays in your mind on repeat. Momma. Momma. Momma.

The image of walking around in a few months, full with his child, and everyone will know who you belong to. Who did this to you. He’ll make you face the mirror above the dresser while he stuffs you full of his come, night after night, whispering how good you look now that he put a baby in you.

He doesn’t move his lips from where they brush against your ear. “Gonna unwrap my present now. Wanna see that pretty pussy. Know she needs some attention, doesn’t she?”

You nod desperately. Suddenly, he stands up straight again, and before you can even protest at the loss of his body heat pressed up against yours, you hear his claws unsheathe with a snikt.

The claws— another favorite aspect of your boyfriend’s mutation in bed. You never knew ruined clothes would get you so damn wet. But it triggers a primal satisfaction deep within you whenever Logan rips through your leggings, your panties, anything keeping the two of you apart. You’ve invested in owning several pairs of the same cheap leggings at any given time, so Logan doesn’t have to worry about replacing the garments he destroys.

He tugs his claws through your leggings and underwear until they lie in pieces beneath you on the bed, and you whine as the cold air of the room grazes where you throb for him. Logan would usually tease you until you were a sobbing mess beneath him, making you drip through the gusset of ruined panties, grinding against your clothed slit. Then, he would make you fall apart on his mouth, then on his fingers, then make you beg, before he’d finally sheathe himself within you.

You thank whatever higher power exists in the multiverse— you think you remember Wade mention someone called Marvel Jesus?— that Logan could only taunt you with one or two lewd comments before he is ripping at your clothes and stepping out of his jeans, shirt tossed aside, to line himself up at your weeping entrance.

Logan is still standing on the floor behind the bed while your ass is swaying in the air where he’s positioned you at the edge, begging for attention. When the fat head of his cock brushes against your puffy folds, heat blooms beneath each place he teases. You can’t help how your neglected cunt clenches around nothing; desperate for something— anything to ease the throbbing ache. Logan grinds his hardness against you— the tip rubbing at your clit has you keening before he slips two fingers into your slick heat.

Every sense is overwhelmed as you feel him enveloping you in his body— his cock teasing at your clit. His breath hot in your ear. One arm between your bodies, fingers curling deep inside. The other, resting on the bed beside your head. All you can feel is Logan, Logan, Logan, all over.

“Gotta get my pussy ready,” his words brush against the shell of your ear. “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

Your eyes scrunch shut, the image of how you’d look with Logan’s cock buried within you playing in the darkness of your vision— hips slamming into your ass. Balls making soft plap plap plaps as they slap against your swollen nub. Thinking of Logan, his body on fire with his need to claim you— to breed you. Filling you with his come until your womb is flooded with it. Imagining how you’ll grow plump with his child. You can’t be blamed for the lewd response slips out of you in response to his question.

“Yes, Daddy—” the last word is whined out before you can stop yourself. Cheeks heat, as you realize what you’ve called him. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of it before. His fingers speed within you, curling against the little textured spot inside that Logan knows so well it’s like he owns it.

“Fuck, baby,” Logan pants, his hips grinding to match the pace of his hand. “You’re gonna make me a daddy. You want that, baby?”

His words are rough against your ear— letting out a little hum as you sink even deeper in the haze of pleasure, tension winding tight in your gut.

“Say it.”

The command in his voice sends a shiver down your spine.

Your own voice wobbles, sounding small and pathetic, as you eek out a response that is little more than a whine, “W-wanna make you a daddy!”

“Attagirl.”

A feral smile against your ear, as his possessive praise alights sparks within you. Somehow, Logan plunges his fingers even deeper, then. His hips never slow where they grind against your folds, cockhead notching against your clit just right, and suddenly that coiling tension releases with a snap.

Your climax hits you, legs quaking as warmth spreads out from your core, until you can feel it wash through your limbs. The fingers in your cunt work you through the pleasure, slowing as you pant against the bedsheets.

Standing tall behind you again, you don’t have time to mourn the loss of Logan’s fingers before he positions himself at your slit.

His voice, gentle, when he speaks before slipping inside. “Remember your word, darlin’?”

Your cheeks heat. He always asks that, when he’s about to fuck you into the mattress until you can’t remember your own name. He’s especially careful to remind you of it when he’s in a rut. You nod, telling him the word you can always say if it gets too much. Apple, and he’ll stop.

His palms cup your ass possessively, splaying his fingers wide to hold as much as he can. “You ready to be a momma?”

You nod your assent.

Logan clicks his tongue, and you can hear the smug smile in his voice. “Use your words for Daddy.”

His words are firm, smug, and for a moment you think he might be making fun of you. But you can tell he’s desperate in the way he pushes the tip of his cock inside you before you can respond. You never thought you’d hear Logan call himself daddy, and it turns you on way more than it should.

“Ready to be a momma, Lo, fuck,” you swear as his weeping head pushes past your puffy folds and into your swollen cunt.

It seems that your words snapped the last of his restraint, finally allowing his base urges to take over. For him to claim you how you’ve both ached for since he crossed the threshold into your shared apartment.

He pushes the rest of the way into you, hissing through his teeth as his hips finally meet the plush of your ass. When he starts thrusting, it’s a rough, feral thing. His fingers dig into your hips, pulling you back to meet him with every thrust. You’re a rag doll in his arms, ass up and on display, face buried as you moan into the sheets.

Logan looks down at you from where he stands, watching his thick length disappear into your tight little hole. When he speaks, his voice comes out in a growl. He can’t help it, with the image of you— fucked out and ruined beneath him. He plans to keep you in this bed, putting his sweet little pussy to use until he can be certain it took.

“Look so fuckin’ good like this, sugar. Lettin’ your old man fill your tight little hole. Gonna keep you full all night, gonna feel my come leakin’ out for days.”

All you can do is whine into the sheets, growing damp with drool as his hips pound against you in hungry thrusts.

“Y’want that, sweetpea? Want daddy’s come?”

Your answer is torn from your throat in a desperate sob.

“Yes!”

Logan’s grip shifts until he’s got one fist full of your tits and one palm flattened against your belly, pulling your body upright against his while he drives his cock up into your weeping cunt. He palms at your breasts, fingers ghosting across your nipples until both are hard and stinging. His grip pinches and soothes, and soon the palm against your stomach moves downward. Then he’s circling your clit, his cock finding that perfect spot inside your walls before plunging deeper until you can feel it brush against your cervix.

Each sensation washes over you, waves lapping against your toes at first. But the water rises higher, higher, higher until you’re drowning in pleasure, your orgasm pulling you under as you come on his cock. You can feel Logan’s words brush against your ear, as you come undone.

“Good fuckin’ girl, coming on your old man’s cock. Lettin’ me do what I need t’ya.” His words are a low snarl when he continues, thrusting harder and harder. “Daddy’s gonna fill you up real good now, gonna put a baby in this tight little pussy.”

You feel your lips form the word yes, over and over, and you think you must be chanting it like a prayer, as his hips snap into you. Logan’s pace grows frenzied as your walls flutter around him in the aftershock of your climax. Reckless, as he pounds into your puffy cunt, your slick leaking down his shaft onto his balls until he finally falls over the edge with a growl. You feel his cock pulse, impossibly deep, filling you with thick ropes of spend. His thrusts slow, but don’t stop, as he fucks his seed further into you.

Logan gingerly lowers the both of you to the bed. You sigh contentedly, finally laying flat on your stomach. Logan cants himself on his elbows above you, still plugged full of his cock.

You can’t help but giggle— he might be into the whole daddy thing even more than you. And that is saying a lot, because you are super into it.

“Lo, that was so fucking hot.”

He chuckles darkly, pulling out before he gathers up the come leaking out of your used cunt and pushes it back inside with his fingers.

“Hope ya don’t think I’m done with you for the night.” Your cheeks heat as you realize he’s growing hard again, his length resting against your ass cheek. “Not even close, bub.”

thank you so much for reading this! id you liked it, please leave a comment or an rb! i would love to hear what you thought!

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

[teamatsumu]

primal. (miya osamu x reader)

word count: 2586

warnings: a/b/o dynamics, fem!omega reader, porn with minimal plot, swearing, typical omegaverse jargon (scent, heat, rut, slick, knot)

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead @priv-rose

This was getting ridiculous.

Three whole days Osamu had not spoken to you. And for what? Because of a stupid argument you had about his new menu? In your mind, if he didn't want constructive criticism, he really should not have asked you for your opinion.

(You tried to ignore the gnawing guilt you felt that maybe you had been too harsh.)

But still, was it worth being this upset about? He hadn't replied to any of your messages. His phone was going straight to voicemail, and to top it off, even Atsumu hadn't heard from him. The blond twin had told you to just give him some space, and that he was ‘going through it’. But you scoffed. What exactly was he going through? All this over a controversial menu item? You didn't know Osamu could be so unreasonable over something so stupid.

Which is why you were standing at his door now, knocking for the last ten fucking minutes, while he didn't even bother to respond or open up. Your knocking had now progressed to vicious pounding, and you didn't give a shit if the neighbours heard. You were pissed. Osamu was being a baby and not communicating with you and you would make him talk if it was the last thing you did.

“Open this fucking door, Osamu!” You shouted for the tenth time.

“Go away!” Finally. Now that Osamu had gotten tired of your incessant pounding, he had finally responded. Triumph coarsed through you.

“I knew you were in there!” One more smack on the wood. “Open up. Now!”

“I'm tellin’ ya to go away.” His voice sounded strained. Your eyebrows furrowed a bit.

“What's up with you?”

There was some shuffling, and then a pained groan. Your muscles stiffened in alarm.

“Samu?” You could feel your anger drain away, replaced by worry. “Are you okay? Open the door!”

“Just go away. Everythin’ is fine. I'm not mad at ya. I just need ya to…. get away.”

You couldn't ignore the pain in his voice anymore. You tried the doorknob again to no avail. “Please let me in. I'm getting worried.”

Silence again. You leaned against the door, your panic only building. “Samu, please.”

Your anger was non-existent now. It didn't matter to you whatever stupid fight you two had gotten into. Your paranoid mind was racing and all you could think about was a million different ways that Osamu might be hurt. If anything happened to him…

Your heart imperceptibly broke.

You had known Osamu since high school, when him and his brother would melt your brain with their unnecessary fighting and competition. He was young and naive then, with that godawful gray hair that he thankfully abandoned after high school, and an attitude so fiery it left most other people in the dust. You couldn't understand why you were so attracted to him at first glance, but then he presented as an Alpha mere months after you first met, and your attraction to him became quite clear.

More than anything else, Osamu was your close friend. He understood you in a way his twin didn't, and you liked to think you were a good friend to him too. You kept your feelings for him pretty tightly wrapped up in your heart, afraid that an Alpha like him wouldn't want you. He was desired widely by many, many omegas. And he had always turned them down. If all those prime omegas weren't good enough for him, you didn't stand a chance.

So you lived with him as your friend, because you would rather have that than nothing at all.

You knocked on the door again, more softly this time, knowing he was right on the other side. “Samu, please let me in. Let me see.”

There was a thunk. You assumed Osamu had leaned his forehead against the door. “Omega…”

It clicked in you, like gears fitting into place. Your heart raced. You shuffled closer to the door until there was no more space left. You sniffed carefully.

There was his scent, heady and musky, sandalwood and something you had come to associate only with Osamu. A scent you had loved for so long it made you want to buckle to your knees. It was strong, heavier than any time you had smelled it before. It made your eyes cross, your breath pause. Something in your core stirred.

“Your rut?” You mumbled. You knew he heard you.

Osamu groaned low in response. Your thighs clenched.

Over the years, you observed that Osamu's ruts were rare. Maybe once every three months. He would always disappear a few days beforehand, and didn't reappear until it was well over and done. Atsumu said that since his ruts were so spaced out, they would always hit really hard. So you tended to leave him alone until he reached out first, talking normally and as if nothing had happened, picking up where he left off.

In your anger and with your fight fresh in your mind, you didn't realize that Osamu had likely gone off the grid because of his rut, and not because he was ignoring you. Now you were standing here, mere inches from an Alpha in full rut, with your own core tightening and something wet slowly dripping down the crease of your thigh. Your inhibition was slowly dissipating the more you frantically tried to breathe his faint scent. Your omega purred and whined.

“I could help.” You dared say. “I could help you, Alpha.”

Another groan, low and desperate, and you felt like it was rattling through your very soul. You bit your lip hard, hand twitching to move between your thighs, but you remained frozen. Osamu didn't move away from the door. His pants grew louder, and then he whined.

“Are you sure?” His muffled voice came, almost broken with desire. He wanted- needed- you to say yes. You nodded vigorously even if he couldn't see you.

“Yes!”

Some thudding, clicking, and then he pulled open the door. Your breath caught at the sight of him.

He was gloriously shirtless, and his loose sweatpants were doing nothing to hide his problem either. His erection was obvious, straining and standing against the struggling material of his pants. It would look almost comical if you weren't horny out of your fucking mind right now. His bare torso shone with a thin layer of sweat. You bit your lip so hard you were sure you drew blood.

“Holy fuck, you smell good.” Osamu's nose, more sensitive with his rut, twitched. His eyelids fluttered, and he took in a deep breath. You stared at him some more, wondering if you were dreaming.

“What are ya standin’ there for? C’mere, Omega.”

He tugged on your arm, until your body was making contact with his. Your hands rested on his chest, and you could feel how rapidly his heart was beating. He leaned down until his face was mere inches from yours. His breath hit your lips, made them tingle. Your core clenched painfully. His scent got stronger.

“Ya sure ya want this?”

You didn’t even have the strength to nod, feeling lightheaded. You only tilted your face up until your lips brushed his. “Please.”

A breathy curse, and then he was kissing you. His arms wrapped tight around your back, like he was scared you would disappear, one hand gripping possessively over your hip. You suspected it would leave a bruise.

You wanted it to leave a bruise.

He left you breathless when your lips parted. He tugged you in further and shut the door with a loud bang, before pushing you back against it. The manhandling turned you on to no end, the thought that you were someone Osamu was about to use to satisfy himself. Your already aroused mind went wild at the notion and you arched into him when he crowded you against the door, lips meeting in a frenzy. He bit and licked your mouth raw, invading your mouth like he couldn’t bear to be apart from you. You dug your nails into his biceps, reveling in the feeling of him, of finally having him the way you wanted. Your panties were soaked through by now. Your inner thighs held the signs of your desire.

His lips traveled down your neck next, licking and biting, inhaling and exhaling as he scented you. His cock pressed into your hip and you let him satisfy his need to leave his mark on you, basking in his scent that mixed with yours and how he laid his claim on you, albeit temporarily. His hands gripped hard at your sides, pushing your shirt up to run over bare skin.

“Wanted this so bad.” He rasped, biting dangerously close to your scent gland, you leaned into the sting. “Every rut. Ya know how many times I’ve jerked off to ya?”

His accent was thick, his words slurred. You were sure he was completely gone by this point. You gripped his hair hard.

“Wanted you too, Alpha.” You whimpered back. “Touch me, god, please.”

Osamu lifted you up then, two strong hands grabbing your asscheeks and carrying you across the room to where his couch was located. You wrapped your arms around his neck, taking the opportunity to lap and nip at his neck, scenting him back. Your drenched walls fluttered around nothing, crying and weeping for a nice, thick knot to fill you up.

You had a suspicion you wouldn’t have to wait long.

When Osamu dropped you on the couch, his hands immediately tugged on your clothes, pulling off your jeans and panties in one go. The fabric clung to you with how wet it was, and the air was cool on your burning skin. You used the moment to pull off your top until you were bare before him. Osamu kissed your calf, traveling up quickly with a few kisses laid on your skin. Your thigh, your stomach, the valley of your breasts, your jaw. He had tugged his sweats down already, and you felt something hard poke at your dripping entrance.

“Can’t wait, baby.” His voice trembled. “Need ya now. Need to knot ya so bad I’m gonna explode.”

And then he was sliding into your slicked up but unprepped pussy, carving his way through your spasming walls until a sharp pain went through you. You gasped at the glorious stretch, at your walls recognising an Alpha cock and opening up to accommodate him. Your wetness ran down your ass, likely soiling Osamu’s couch but you doubted he cared. He was cursing and whining in your ear, spine bending forward at the relief of finally sinking into a wet, ready cunt. His face was flushed a deep red, sweat building on his forehead. He sank into you to the base, your toes tingling with the sensation of being so full.

“Hold on, omega.” His last words. They almost sounded like a threat. Your breath caught.

Then he was gripping your hips and holding you down, before fucking into you hard and fast. You gasped at the sudden pace, legs pushed even further open as his cock repeatedly bullied itself into you. Your jaw went slack at the sensation, how he hit you so deep, sloppy noises filling the air along with your cries and his moans. His skin slapped hard against yours, leaving the inside of your thighs red and tender. His cock hit every spot just right. You felt your toes curl.

Osamu watched your reactions, nearly delirious himself, barely holding on by a thread.

“Feel good?”

You nodded frantically, fingernails scratching over his shoulders and arms. Osamu leaned down on his elbows, tongue poking out to lick at your lips every now and then.

“Tell me how good it feels. Tell me.”

“I-” You gasped and jolted with the force of his thrusts. Tears built up in your eyes and spilled down the sides of your face. “Can’t- can’t talk.”

“Yes you can.” His hand wound into the hair at the back of your head, tugging hard until you arched into him. “Say it. Say ya love my cock.”

“Love your cock.” You managed to wail, clamping down hard on him. He cursed and leaned down further, pace not even faltering in the slightest. His lips sealed themselves against the skin of your neck and he sucked hard.

“Tell me how bad ya want my knot.”

“Want it so bad.” You parroted, losing every coherent thought and just going along with what he was saying. Osamu continued to pound into you like he wasn’t even talking, like he wasn’t rearranging your guts or turning your legs to jelly. Like the base of his cock wasn’t rapidly swelling and catching on the rim of your hole.

Osamu pushed himself deep into you before stilling completely, and you nearly weeped in frustration.

“Tell me why ya deserve my knot.” He gritted, eyes meeting yours. Little golden flecks shown in his irises, and his incisors elongated below his bottom lip. He was deep, deep in the clutches of his rut. Combined with his messed up hair and flushed cheeks, he looked wild. Uninhibited. Dangerous. Your pleasure hit its very peak, teetering just over the edge, begging for that last push. You sobbed.

“Wanted you for so long.” You gasped and cried, tears pouring from your cheeks. “Wanted you to fuck me and knot me and give me your cum. Please, Alpha, please. I’ll be so good for you.”

Osamu groaned. Something in his eyes softened. He hooked a hand under your left knee and tugged it up, folding it against your torso. His cock pulled out before pushing back in, slowly picking up his pace again. You moaned loud, feeling your pit tighten up again.

“Why don’t ya cum fer me nice and hard, baby? Get me wet with your juice and then I’ll fill you up. Promise. I’ll shove this fat knot into your tiny little cunt. Just cum fer me, little omega.”

And you did. You arched into him, eyes rolling and arms seizing as you came harder than you ever had in your life. Electricity zipped through you and all air was punched out of your lungs until you felt that your very soul was leaving your body. You didn’t even register when Osamu groaned and stuttered in his pace, or when his knot swelled until it was bullied into your thoroughly fucked out and sore pussy. White hot cum filled your insides as he locked into you, hips flush against your own.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist as Osamu’s comforting weight settled on you. He licked and lapped at your neck softly, breathing into you until you were nothing but his scent, his touches, his marks. You panted and tried to catch your breath, legs trembling with aftershocks of the event. You could barely lift your arms to run over his bare back, but you managed. Osamu hummed at your soft touch.

All was silent beneath you two as the fog of his rut lifted. You could feel him slowly cool down, get pliant against you. You could almost sense his apprehension.

“Do ya regret it?”

You smiled slightly, staring up at the ceiling. “I meant it, Samu. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You could feel his own smile against your neck, his embrace around you tightening. “Me too.”

Your skin buzzed with warmth. While Osamu breathed softly against your neck, you let yourself drift into a quiet sleep.

[steviewashere]

Let's have a quick little conversation, Stranger Things fandom. This is a conversation for everybody, including those who create the amazing things we pass around our table of stories like bowls of mashed potatoes.

A lot of you guys are fucking mean. And I'm not talking regular mean. I'm talking a rotting, moldy, dilapidating, squelching sort of mean. I should know, I've given way too many speeches about this kind of shit. So, you're gonna listen good.

The new trend I'm seeing is bullying the bodacious babes within our community, and I won't fucking stand for it. I've had my fair share of bullying, both as the victim and as a bystander, and it's exhausting to have it spread into such a tight-knit space like this.

Let me reintroduce you to some wonderful technology on here, you hateful pieces of shit (no, I'm not talking about the people who are actually nice, but please continue to read this). (And, I'm not gonna be nice to people who are blowing up babe's Tumblr inboxes and anon messages and Twitter replies and AO3 comments. Or people sending death threats and threats of sexual violence. Because you don't deserve kindness. Not anymore.)

There's a "close tab" button located conveniently below your address bar. There's also a little bar on the side of your screen that lets you scroll all willy-nilly away from things you don't like. AND there's a "block" button! Oh, let's not forget the "mute tag" button! (Explosion sound effects here.) Isn't that crazy?! You can block anybody you want. You can scroll away. You can close out of a fic you're reading or a fanart you're viewing.

Isn't that wonderful? Because then, you don't ever have to see it again.

Fandom is a space for everybody, no matter what someone enjoys. Even if it's dead dove fics or unconventional kinks or relationship dynamics that may come off as "abusive" or "toxic".

If topics that are considered unsightly to you really bother the fuck outta your soul, then just ignore 'em. Ignore them. Leave them alone. Art, no matter the form, has always been made to make a statement; art is meant to be uncomfortable sometimes; art comforts those who may have gone through the same or similar experience.

Not everything is for you. That's what's so wonderful about tag filtering and muting tags and blocking users and content. That's what's so wonderful about the internet. You can get away from things that would otherwise be triggering for you.

You don't have to read everything. Or view everything. Or like everything.

Somebody else will like that piece of art, guaranteed.

And to artists, whether you're a writer or a painter or a scrapbooker or whatever you do that pleases your senses, continue to create. Continue to create because you do enjoy it, even if sometimes it seems that nobody does. Take breaks as needed. Walk away if you have to. That's alright. Taking care of yourself is so important and nobody is allowed to tell you otherwise. But at the end of the day, you are the poet and the artist and the muser. You are the creator.

The first person you should create for, because all fan work is self-indulgent on some level, is yourself. Always create for you. Create because it's something primal. Because it's an instinct.

Not everything is beautiful. But art can be beautiful. You make it beautiful. Your minds are beautiful. Everybody is gorgeous.

Fandom is like a museum, babes. Sometimes, the creator is going to be walking the same room as you, viewing their paintings sidelong. Keep your voices down, move on if you don't like the painting they made, and find something you do like. You're allowed to do that.

But by the gods, be thoughtful, be kind, and remember that the creator is always standing behind you in the art hall. And they're sharing their craft with you. And they don't have to. And sometimes they don't want to. But they do it anyway. Because it's important to create and tell their story and reflect on what is otherwise something shitty.

Telling stories is part of human nature. We've been doing it for centuries. It's in our blood. Don't be the reason somebody's blood turns cold or their pens fall dried or their mouths clink shut. Art is an objectively subjective form of culture, it changes from where you're going to where you've been and it's always changing and not every aspect is for you.

You do it for you, though. At the end of the day, your art should matter because it's an appendage of you. You're wonderful, you're beautiful, you're talented, and you're worthy of what you do. Because you're doing it. At the end of the day, you're doing it. That's something that matters.

But what matters most?

You do. You're the heart of everything you do. You're part of the thousands of arteries in the community we've built, you are the vessel carrying life in this community. And damnit, what a good job you do. You matter. At the end of the day, you will always matter.

Always. You will always matter.

[crisiscutie]

I hope I don’t make you uncomfortable when I ask this, and thank you for taking your time to read it, but do you plan on writing any incest relationships with Sephiroth and the darling, Father/Daughter or Brother/Sister, and I’m not really talking about Dissidia Sephiroth or Brother complex, but an AU where the darling and Sephiroth are closesly related, I took interest in those topics and I imagine Sephiroth manipulating the darling to think it was okay to do fall inlove with him, or create or more romantic and intimate relationship with eachother, I have been interested in those subjects, having someone you really trust use your vulnerability to manipulate you to thinking something is okay, and the effects it will have on the victim after realizing they were wrongly exploited by those they trusted most, I’m sorry if it’s super weird.

Hi anon, you are absolutely fine to ask this and thank you for being so thoughtful! No need to feel weird, as this blog is foremost, an 18+ Dead Dove: Do Not Eat blog. As everyone who follows this blog should know, dark and disturbing content (that doesn't go against my rules and site rules ofc) will be discussed and posted when the opportunity shows. I will try my absolute best to tag everything, but even then, I'm only human and will be bound to make mistakes. If I mistagged or something lacks a tag, let me know!

I know there are followers of mine who may be triggered by certain topics, yet continue to follow me, their support is equally valued alongside my other followers. This is one of the other big reasons why I want to tag so much. If you guys hadn't already, please go into your account settings and make use of the site tag filters! There are 3rd party extensions you can use too, like tumblr savior.

Now, let's get into an analysis (and my opinion) of this matter.

Content Warning: NSFW, Discussions of Incest, Daddy/Mommy Issues. Psychological Abuse.

I also find those dynamics to be interesting as well. I think Post Nibelheim Sephiroth would probably use manipulative tactics to stay close and maintain control over her. His darling, whether she be his wife, sister, daughter, or someone else, will always be his possession. Anyone who could threaten their closeness and his control, be they a friend or a romantic rival, will be dealt with.

My opinion comes from what I've seen of Sephiroth's behavior as he spiraled into darkness. Throughout the Nibelheim Incident and in the FF7 series, Sephiroth was clearly lovestruck by Jenova, consistently using and showcasing language that one would typically reserve for a romantic partner, even if she was a monster whom he considered to be his true mother. His behavior indicated a deep need for physical closeness and intimacy, as he was highly affectionate and touch-starved, always seeking to be near her and hold her. Like, I think the fact that he cut off HER HEAD doesn't get enough attention. This blonde kid practically cuts you in half, you're pissed off and want revenge but you still want to be with your mother? Cut off your mommy's head and then go stab that fucker, easy solution! This is peak Yandere vibes, I'm telling you.

While Sephiroth doesn't conform to typical human judgment, the Nibelheim Incident illustrated just how unorthodox his thinking truly is... Just that, that time was where his downfall started...

Anyway, judging from his interactions with Jenova, I don't see why he wouldn't be the same way with a darling who is blood to him. Oh, and at the start of FF7, I believe Sephiroth knows Jenova is not his biological mother, but he consciously insists on this belief because it brings comfort to his hurt soul. He even said this about Jenova in 7R Rebirth:

"They say she’s a monster. That she can peer inside you, into the very depths of your soul. That she can become those you hate. Those you fear. Those you love."

And I believe he is in control of her. So if Sephiroth wants Jenova to be his mother, she will be. Pretending that Jenova is his mother is his valid coping mechanism for the traumas of his childhood and early adulthood under Shinra. He is even so needy for Jenova's validation that he wants to merge with her and continue her goals of destroying and conquering worlds...

So again, I think he will be the same with a darling. He would bring such instability to her life, driving her to become completely absorbed with him and convinced that he (and Jenova) can provide for all of her needs and desires. Her desperate need for love and validation from him is exactly what Sephiroth wants. A twisted, addicting love between them all. He is a firm believer that families should always stick together after all... I think the person who could be of great help to the darling in terms of showing her the wrong and finding a way out is Cloud. Whether he becomes a love interest or simply a friend, he can make a difference. Problem is, uh, well. Cloud. He's got his own baggage to deal with and probably isn't in a position to support someone else.

I know you said you weren't talking about the Dissidia AU, but Sephiroth's manipulation of the darling's vulnerabilities, particularly her unresolved issues with her father, is extremely important in the Dissidia AU's storyline. Even through they are from different FF universes and are not related, Sephiroth manipulates the Darling's memories of her real father to create a sense of neediness and longing for him as you will see more in the Dissidia NSFW headcanons. He intentionally keeps the darling from unlocking the rest of her memories and going back to her world. I hope to make the complexity of it all understandable and enjoyable for you guys to read. And again, another person who could be the darling's savior is her own childhood friend, who searches for her constantly, as you will also see later in the NSFW headcanons.

Now concerning the question of if I have plans writing actual incest...

I have been contemplating writing an AU which centers on 7R Sephiroth (and maybe C.C. Sephiroth to create a twin Sephiroth show, but I haven't decided yet). It revolves around his conquests as he achieves domination over Gaia with his darling, only to lose her in the final battle. He (by using Jenova) tries to salvage much of her as he can. So by using a combination of his DNA and his lost darling, he can make clones of women that are essentially his and his darling's daughters. Although the clones provided him with companionship and comfort, and he loved them equally, there was always a deep sense of longing for the original darling to be with him as he continued to conquer the cosmos. But there was one clone he met that caught his eyes. He noticed a few traces of the original darling's spirit within her, he became increasingly fixated on her as the story progresses, and the clone is becoming more and more like the original darling... That's what I have now, but that's pretty much the premise... And it's also starring a favorite kink of mine as a theme, if you guess it!

Thank you for this ask!

[wordsonamission]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks so much for tagging me in this, @acetonitril! Sorry for the delay, but I wanted to really think out my answers.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

12 currently! This is my first year actually posting fics and I'm happy with my progress.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

118,159! There's a chance I'll get another fic finished soon, too . . . And maybe I'll be able to sneak in something short and smutty before the end of the year.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

All I've published is Top Gun. I'm not going to be surprised if I end up writing soapghost for the COD games. Y'all have some superb writers and artists that keep drawing me in. Historically, I started some small 00Q and Destiel stuff back in ye olde golden days. There's a dramione fic from on my old computer from years back that was like 30k before I stopped.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Kissed By The Sun

Falling Into Place

A Safe Place to Land

Running on Empty

Spare

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

Yes! If someone was kind enough to make the effort to leave a comment, I want to make sure that they know I saw it and that I appreciate them for letting me know what they think. I don't generally reply the same day, but I try to reply within a couple of days. I love hearing what readers think and I hope that me engaging back only encourages more comments

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

Hmmm I have a couple. Mission Report is a whole pile of angst just as a concept. It's short and sad all the way through imo. Spare ends on a really big cliffhanger which can be read as sad; a character is left in a really fragile medical state. Snow Day is so sweet but then the end is just a gut-punch. You could say that I like to temper fluff and steamy stuff with sadness and angst.

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

If the ending isn't sad, it's usually pretty happy. Or at least hopeful. I think I'll give happiest ending award to A Cookie Conundrum. It's so silly and light, no angst.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

None that I've ever seen. But I'm still new and I write safe fics as far as subject and pairings.

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

Yeah lol. I'm still getting used to writing it. What kind? Pretty standard MLM fic smut. I'd like to write harder edged stuff in the future, but right now it tends to be really loving stuff.

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

I haven't. That's not something I'm super into as a reader or as a writer. Never say never - it'll only take the right combo to get me going I'm sure, but it hasn't happened yet.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I've seen. That is a worry of mine.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. I'm still new and I don't see that Top Gun has a lot of fics that get translated (I could be very wrong and missing out)

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

No I haven't.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

All time ever favorite? Yeesh. Uhhhhh I'll cop out and say that I enjoy a similar dynamic to my favorites - they're highly competent in their field but often less confidant about romance, there's a degree of imbalance in the relationship (rank, age gap, experience, etc), and I'm an absolute sucker for a character that doesn't let anyone else emotionally close who lets That Guy in.

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

I don't think I'm going to finish any of the old fic I mentioned, like from years ago. If I pick up those fandoms and pairings again, I'll start over.

16. What are your writing strengths?

God I don't know. I consider myself someone with a good grasp on grammar and how things Should be written as far as that goes (please go ahead and point out all of my mistakes, I know they're everywhere) which helps with readability. Comments repeatedly point out that even my smut is very tender and emotional. I tend to write characters affirming each other and being very giving lovers. I'm sure that says nothing about me as a person. I really like to dig into missing scenes to expand the emotional complexity of the canon story.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Knowing when and how to end a story. One of those writing posts that go around here mentioned going back a couple of paragraphs when you get stuck, which has been so true for me. But endings are still so hard. Writing sex is still weird, too, and I can get stuck on a single scene for days. Coming up with titles is also so, so hard. Occasionally one will appear and I'll run with it, but usually it's one of the last things done before I post. I'm really not happy with the titles for my Ace Week fics.

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

Do you mean including characters speaking a different language and writing their dialogue in that language? A block of text in another language is rough on a reader and there's not really a good work around. Asterisks to the bottom of the page don't work on A03.

If I want a reader to know what a character is saying, I'd make note of the language change and use italics in dialogue but otherwise write normally. If the characters are in a situation where I DON'T want them or the reader to understand, then I'd type the language in italics.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I've written what I would now call fanfic off and on my whole life. When I was seven, I wrote a horribly indulgent self-insert fic of me joining the characters of one of my favorite book series (Pony Pals) for an adventure. In middle school, before the publication of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, I wrote my own version. I think I filled like two notebooks. I wonder if it's still around somewhere - I had some good ideas, some that were better than canon ended up imo

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Running on Empty! I loved it as one chapter but I really enjoy the whole story as it turned out in three. The only big thing I might change is tweaking the emotions Maverick feels after he and Ice finally get together. But that story flowed so well while writing and I really loved the world that I created with their families and especially Lisa and Jason for Slider. Plus I feel like that fic really addresses some of the trauma that Maverick went through and how he wasn't getting the support he needed in the OG movie.

That went long! Thanks again to @acetonitril for tagging me in this. I'm sure everyone else has already chimed in, but feel free to jump in if not. These are some great questions!

[boypussydilf]

17 and 18 they're less about hatred and more about what you find enjoyable and want more of!!!!! For any media you feel like talking about :)

HEEHEE *completely blanks on any thoughts iveever had ever* Fuck. normally id gravitate towards New and Current stuff but keroro fandom is 6 ppl and ive read no fic & i JUST got introduced to mop pinecone fandom so i simply do not have exposure there but that’s ok there are LOTS of things ilike and have many thoughts about. I just need to think of what those thoughts are

17 - there should be more of this type of fic/art

Ok you know what? I’m digging into the past here (said as if this isn’t an All Time Highly Beloved Interest That I Still Think And Talk About A Lot) and talking abt p5 bc p5 is something ive read the most fic of and had the strongest fic opinions on. And art exists. as well. Anyway I have always been desperate for good royal trio content that caters to me specifically. Like ok. I understand why that does not exist in very high quantities. Because the “royal trio” are not really actually a trio in canon and have very few interactions and very little dynamic, AND my thoughts on them are very niche and specific. But especially a year ago when I was desperately rampaging thru p5 ao3 tags to find stuff to read it was always just. Very few people Got It in a way i really liked. I reaaaallly want to see stuff that actually MAKES USE OF the interesting parallels & room for relating to each other w akechi and sumi that the game itself badly failed to deliver on, they’re in some ways very similar and their interactions could be soooo so interesting if people would just. um. Do the work that the writers of the actual game didn’t </3 Also i just think royal trio should be funny in a way that caters to me specifically. Sigh. I have to write p5 fanfic someday to inflict my righteous and superior thoughts on the world. Basically: there should be more p5 fanfic and fanart about akechi & sumi or about akira akechi and sumi, but like, it should also be made for me specifically and agree with everything i think.

18 - it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

i just made a post about this a little while ago but literally from what i can tell ritsu kageyama </3 he needs. to be appreciated. was he such a well done character for nothing. was he so great and well written just to have brief appearances in silly comics and little else. please. Umm lets see is there anything else……… Surely, somewhere, in the history of my life, there have been many occasions where I have gone, “Why does this fandom never seem to talk about [X great thing from the piece of media]!!!!” That has to have happened millions of times. I can remember saying it, as if a dream, “people need to appreciate [subject undefined]”. But I don’t seem to be able to remember anything so. Peace and love on planet earth I guess!

[myalchod]

Ship Tag Game

Tagged by @vera-dauriac over messages, which totally counts. Multifandom because I am indecisive AF and also possibly lazy?

OTP: That's one per fandom, right? 🤣 For sheer persistence over years and multiple incarnations, Milathos. Currently eating my brain? Rhaenys x Corlys, Silrah. (Clearly the fault of a certain actress. *shakes tiny fist*)

Ship that you love but your friends don't (and that's ok): of those I'm closest to, there's a lot of "I don't get your fandomship but it's very shiny", and tbh as long as they let me flail around and don't actually judge my ships it's all good.

Wholesome ship: Dragon Mom and Pirate Dad are the most wholesome. Fight me. (Don't fight me, I'll feed you to Meleys. She agrees.)

Comfort ship: I don't know if I have once, since I have this depressing habit of picking ones with a heavy dose of DOOM. (Sooner or later, doom. /Ivanova voice) My idea of a comfort ship is fic for anything that canon doomed where they get to be happy, so I guess I'm for patching the boat up until it can get back out to sea and sail off into a lovely sunset.

Crack ship: Um. Goodness. I don't know that I have anything I actively ship that qualifies. (Hey Vera, does wanting Pearl Fishers to get resolved in that threesome count? I'm sure opera purists would have something to say about that, if only "what the actual fuck?".)

Ship that should be popular but isn't: Most of my ships tend to be less popular in the fandoms they're in because I do like me some older/less generally popular characters, so probably most of them. And I judge the fandom at large for not recognising their awesomeness. So much judgement.

Opposites attract ship: Banged my head against this more than I expected because I couldn't get past either "but I don't like sunshine characters!" or "but they're all opposites if you look from the right angle, just like they're all too similar if you look from another one". So, in the absence of a satisfactory answer and to get something else in here that amuses me: Victoria and Ivan from RED, which is just a ridiculous delight for so many reasons.

Canon ship: Canon ship that doesn't get blown up, you mean? See Mom and Dad, above.

First ship: I think this might have been junior-high-school-aged Charis watching ST:TNG, because Picard/Crusher is genuinely the first one I remember. (I guess even wee Charis kind of proves out certain aspects of my type, lol.)

Cursed ship: Did I mention I regularly pick DOOM DOOM DOOM with a side of "canon said fuck you this is never going to happen because we've wrecked it forever?" (Honestly, how Musketeers fucked up a perfectly good Milathos dynamic will leave me forever salty, so I'm pretty sure that qualifies. Death is easier to solve!)

Tag (if you have the time and inclination using one or many fandoms, your choice): anyone who wants to do it, but please tag me so I can see your response!

[the-haunted-office]

Here we go! I have updated the Shipping portion of the Full Version of my rules. I don't know if anyone has read the full version, but I'm putting it here anyway, since it's been updated. I didn't feel I had explained very well how the whole "shipping with chemistry" thing works when it comes to my muses. I hope I've explained it a little better now!

If anything is ambiguous or you have questions, let me know! :)

⭐ Shipping

I am all here for it! I love shipping and I want to ship our muses together in all manner of shipping - romantic, platonic, hateship, familial, you name it. If we start roleplaying our muses together and they catch some kind of feels for one another, then by all means, let’s let the ship sail.

However, I do want it to be said that shipping is not the primary purpose of my muses. I prefer not to instant ship or ship through sending ask memes - i.e. sending something to the tune of “My muse kisses your muse” when they haven’t even met yet or barely know each other, and feelings immediately blossom from there. I prefer to roleplay some threads with our muses together first to establish what kind of chemistry they might have, and from there we can send those kinds of ask memes to each other.

My blog is multiship. That means that all of my muses may be shipped with more than one character and from different verses, AUs, or even in the same verse.

Mun chemistry is also important to me. Before discussing ships, I’d like for us to have at least roleplayed together a few times to get a feel for not only how our muses mesh, but also how we mesh together as writing partners.

I also prefer to let things develop naturally through rp threads, but I am always open to hearing your thoughts and ideas if you have a ship in mind. I'm perfectly willing to work towards a ship via plotting if the chemistry is there, as some of my muses may require a bit of a nudge. I will always be 100% honest about whether or not I think the ship dynamic would work.

My muses want to get to know your muse and form bonds with them, but more often than not this takes time. Ships with my muses tend to be slow burn and don't happen within a thread or two. If you are looking for expedient ships, then ships with my muses aren't for you. If you're willing to take the time and patience to get to know my muses, then let's ship!

Also, please don’t ship with my muses just to collect ships or if you don’t intend on ever developing the ship with my muses. Additionally, if shipping, writing shippy things, and focusing on writing with your shipping partners over everything else is what makes you happiest in roleplaying, while there is nothing wrong with this, I prefer to roleplay a wide variety of subjects and shipping stuff is not always at the top of my focus, so please consider whether we are on the same wavelength as writing partners.

But don’t take any of this as meaning that I’m not interested in shipping at all - because I am! - it’s just that I don’t want to jump right in without any natural interactions between our muses first. I’d like to get a feel for how our muses interact before we talk about shipping.

Please note: When flirting with my muses, they don’t always pick up on it, not only due to how some of them are dense in that area, but because I am dense in that area. This is unfortunate and means that in some cases, my muse should be able to pick up on it, but they don’t because of my own shortcomings when it comes to detecting flirting. I apologize for this! I ask that if your muse is truly flirting with mine, please make sure it is clearly indicated in text or by making a comment in the tags of your reply, or shooting me a DM to let me know! I promise that I am not intentionally overlooking this, and neither are my muses (not in all cases!).

[hyperfixingfr]

Can you put your content warnings in the tags, please? It makes it easier for people to blacklist a post if something in it upsets them. Thank you.

I do this already.

I may forget the tags sometimes (rarely) which in that case let me know, and also sometimes (VERY RARELY) I intentionally lose the tags and keep it as a content warning in the front of the post only if it's really something that shouldn't be avoided like a harmful fandom portrayal that's way too widely accepted. I did this with the thing about 2/3's family - which is what I assume you're talking about due to recentness - because it's an uncomfortable truth that needs to be said. Yes, it's a touchy topic. I feature the warning in the front of the post still for this very reason because if someone *really* cannot see this content without suffering from problems like a breakdown, they should have the maturity and self accountability to skip it after seeing it. But blacklisted tags are one of the reasons why this is still such a massive issue within the fandom and honestly the lack of attention to the detail causes extremely insensitive posts glorifying bad families which end up triggering people anyways. And they don't get a warning for those, because of the wide acceptance. I will not be putting warning tags on that specific post. I apologize if this offends you, but I happen to be speaking out of my own offense and am tired of not being listened to because everyone has the tags blacklisted so they never even get the chance to ASSESS whether or not they can handle it in the moment. I get extremely offended seeing posts that try to glorify or pass off these two sets of families as "good" or "well meaning" because it invalidates abuse victims. And blacklisted tags are an easy way for people this info NEEDS to reach to completely miss it and not even realize.

Blacklisted tags are completely fine, obviously. I tag everything else (and will add specific tags if needed). But this is a completely different issue and we - as human beings - need to accept that uncomfortable conversations have GOT TO BE HAD AND VIEWED. Especially if people who blacklist it are the ones who hurt others with their lack of information. I can't blacklist posts that put these harmful family dynamics into a positive light, can I? The only way to ensure people stop with the harmful portrayals is by having the unfortunately uncomfortable conversation without the ability to automatically blacklist it. If someone cannot read it without feeling something more severe than some discomfort, they can 100%, at any time, stop reading. Especially with the post featuring a warning on the front. They'd have to see the warning. It's the responsibility of the reader to understand their own reactions from that point and decide what's best for them. And I don't expect them to need to do that every time for every post! But in this one situation, please. Use self control.

If this happens to be about another post that I just forgot tags on, I apologize. I feel strongly about this topic so just let me know on the post itself if I'm missing tags because the only point I can draw it to right now is the fact I didn't put the tag warnings on that one specific post.

[godraet]

غُدْرَت

ɢod̪ˈɾæt̪ʰ — ( n. ) power.

padishah ganondorf dragmire of the legend of zelda franchise.

a study of [ . . . ] divinity and kingship in its purest form, endless lifetimes, forging your own soul, breaking the cycle.

by percival (30+, he/him). mutuals only!

affiliated with [ . . . ] @salesduo ╱ @perditos ╱ tba

⎛ ₁ legend. ₂ verses. ₃ dynamics. ⎠

rules under readmore!

𝐨𝐧𝐞. #GODRAET is an independent, private, highly selective and mutuals exclusive writing blog for ganondorf dragmire of the legend of zelda franchise. its my sacred duty now to rewrite TotK and also cherrypick from every other iteration so i am doing just that!

this blog is 18+. please do not follow me if you are under 18!

on this note, this blog will feature dark and triggering themes. gan's entire story is a whole mess and he chooses violence very often! i will make sure to tag these things with the format of #trigger so that they can be filtered out!

𝐭𝐰𝐨. shipping is not the priority here- but for reference, gan likes women or fem-leaning individuals; in general what he likes is femme because he associates femme with familiarity and also strength, for real what else would anyone expect.

if shipping happens, it will require a LOT of plotting and will not be with any mun or muse under the age of 21.

i am very open to other sorts of bonds, though! because it isn't just romance when people talk about ships- i am open to seeing how things go nonetheless!

i should also note that i will accept mains and exclusives!

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞. please DO tag #trypophobia for me, it makes my brain do big bad.

𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫. i am known for writing metas across the blogs i have. in the wise words of a friend:

with this in mind, the metas i write are portrayal specific to this blog, so please give them a read! i know i can be rather wordy- anyone who has followed me elsewhere may know this, but for my first time followers, worldbuilding is one of my favorite things to do. i am particularly fond of analysis of character psychology.

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞. to the point above, i do have other blogs! and i have no organizational skill so im all over the place ... and i have a job that steals my energy

and by this, i mean i work 32-40 hours as a registered nurse in an inpatient psychiatric unit. i am busy, i am tired, and i can't keep letting my focus go all over the place. inevitably, it still may do that because i have a tendency to be scattered, so if i don't get to something immediately, it isn't you, it's me!

also related to that, i do love communication! i struggle with reading the room (it's the Autism tm) and so if something's up or if you're bothered, please be direct with me! i will not take offense, i quite appreciate feedback so that i can be better as a person! in return, i will communicate back! i am learning to curate my space (after 10+ years of being on tumblr).

𝐬𝐢𝐱. there are people i won't interact with due to various reasons- my dni list is on the carrd of my other blogs. i won't interact with genderbent versions of characters, people who are Real Life Individuals (not counting fictional depictions like in the typemoon franchise or whatnot because those really have nothing to do with the actual individual they're supposedly based on?).

please stay far away from me if you fall under the following categories (i'm censoring things because god knows tumblr just picks shit up idk): proshipping, writing inc*st, p*dophilia, r*pe/n*ncon, are transphobic/homophobic- the usual gross behavior! use your moral compass!

on top of that, i am a firm believer that we learn from the media around us. full censorship is just as dangerous as the aforementioned things- the world isn't all sunshine and rainbows! please refer to this post which essentially summarizes the gist of what i'm trying to explain.

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧. anyway, hello, i'm percival. i am 30+ and use he/him pronouns exclusively! i am a hobby artist (it's my side-gig from nursing) and sometimes i post my art, tagged #whats my art tag considering i constantly forget my art tag if it's fancy. please do not repost my art without my permission.

mutuals, feel free to ask me for my discord, since i am much easier to reach there!

i look forward to writing with you!

[moomoostims]

BYF/DNI

Hey! I'm Moo and this is my stimblog! Before we get into the DNI...

If you're here to say I've 1. violated your DNI in any way or 2. have used a gif/reblogged an original post or directly from someone in poor standing with the stim community or that goes against my own DNI; please leave me a nice DM about it and I'll deal with the situation ASAP.

Please note that I don't read full DNIs of people who I don't follow unless I use a gif in an original stimboard, and even then I'm only human and may have skimmed over something, or I may not have full knowledge of a subject or term (i.e. I don't tend to have an opinion on things I'm not well educated on). I also do not comb blogs for drama and bad takes even if I use a gif of theirs, I go by their DNI, especially if I don't intend to follow. If I have reblogged or otherwise used gifs from a user that has known issues, again, lemme know! I've not been on tumblr in a couple years, so I certainly haven't kept up on who and who not to follow, and I don't want to expose myself or others to unsavory or unsafe people.

That said, lets get right to it- (DNI and other info under the cut)

DNI Criteria

Unfortunately, I feel like this is necessary. I know most people who actually fit into these guidelines will more than likely choose not to listen, and it serves more as peace of mind for followers and other creators. So for those people, or for those respectful few who fit this criteria, here you go!

It's pretty basic criteria here. If you're: LGBTQ+ phobic of any kind, ace-exclusionist, racist, antisemetic, ableist, a tr/nsmed, a M/A/P, just a generally bigoted person and/or someone who fits into any adjacent category to the aforementioned criteria? You'll be blocked if I catch you here. Kink blogs, especially sexual CG/L blogs, will be blocked on sight. I really don't care what you’re into or what you do on your own time, but this is not the place for it nor do I personally wanna know about it (Also CG/L squicks me out).

I do intend to do some ship boards here as well, so I'd like to add this: I don't respect people who ship minor characters and adults, ship inc/est or blatantly abusive relationships. If you have interest in media that tactfully explores these themes and shows them as the atrocities they are: this is not directed at you! However please know that if you enjoy these themes for what they are, or if you ship pairings with these dynamics (especially if you are very public and vocal about it) - you are all but inherently glorifying them, and I don't really wanna interact with you.

Mod and Blog

My name's Moo, I'm Genderfluid, and I'm 24. I'll be the only mod on the blog, ever! That's all you need to know really. While I am neurodivergent, I don't talk about personal information like mental diagnoses and such publicly for my own privacy and comfort. So I'll keep mostly to myself, and this blog should be pretty chill and discourse free.

Rules

- I do my best to respect other creators DNIs and I expect people who reblog from me to do so as well. If I'm informed of/catch you not doing just that, I will block you.

-Credit the original makers of a gif. I rarely have the time to make my own and I mostly just enjoy compiling things into a board and reblogging things that make my brain go brr so don't credit me for someone elses work. I will always credit the gif maker by linking to the gif in question in my post. If the link is broken, I'll try to do my best to fix it if possible so long as that's brought to my attention.

- I do take requests but I treat them more like suggestions, which means I reserve the right not to do one if I don't want to. Please do not be upset if this happens! I do this as a fun little passtime on occassion. Feel free to send your ask a couple times if you think tumblr ate it, but try to cap it off at 3, maximum, or one DM.

- Be kind! To me, in my replies and tags, to askers and OPs, and in general on this blog. This is not the place for you to be hateful.

- Understand that none of my rules, my DNI, or aspects of myself and how I run this blog are up for debate. While I will answer clarifying questions assuming they aren’t prying, I don't really care to get into arguments about my own boundaries.

- More rules will be added if necessary, but seeing as this is a stimblog I really shouldn't need to add more. Know if you break those rules or ignore my DNI and I catch you or am told, I will be blocking you.

What I Will Do:

- Ship Boards!

- Anything from my primary interests (My Hero Academia, Pokemon, Cookie Run, Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons, Animal Crossing, Don't Starve- just to name a handful)

- Animals, themes, items and concepts

- Honestly most things, just ask if you're curious!

What I Won't Do:

- Real people (celebrities, youtubers, historical figures, etc.)

- Bands/Albums/Music (I'm just not very good at it!)

- Media and Characters that are highly problematic*/I personally dislike (As an example: Ghetsis from pokemon is both of those things.)

- Things that just don't interest me (Voltron, for example, isn't something I dislike or thats inherently problematic, but I just don't care/know enough to put a board together)

*Problematic is a word that's thrown around from everything from outright evil behavior to minor character flaws, so I wanna throw out here that I understand media and characters are complex! Highly problematic in this case means that it glorifies unsavory themes like bigotry and genuinely harmful, predatory behavior. If you don't know, it doesn't hurt to ask.

Some specific things I won't do:

-Kingdom Hearts

-Mogeko Castle or related media

-Made in Abyss

-Hetalia

-Harry Potter

-Homestuck (Note: I am an ex homestuck and I do actually still hold certain characters dear, albeit detached from the source media. These characters may show up on this blog (but probably not), and if so then this will be my only interaction with this source)

Tag list

I'll add a link to this if/when I decide to make one (I probably won't to be honest)

[mrskurono]

title: Baby Fever a/n: ok you know what I’ll admit it, all I’ve been thinking about lately is Geto. He’s on my mind constantly. Should I be working on something else, yes. Is Geto the first jjk character I really had a crush on, maybe. I just....fucking Geto ok this has taken me four times to right jfc word count: 1.7k tags: no sub/dom dynamics, romantic sex, established relationship, manga spoilers, fingering, multiple female orgasms (not overstim though) breeding kink, needy Geto, creampie, unprotected sex, pregnancy mention, body worship, really just soft sex ok, unedited character(s): Geto Suguru (jjk)

They had grown. 

Both girls that was. 

Into wonderful adolescences that brought a set of different challenges. Geto was ready for that be it blindly. And he loved every part of it times two. Each time he looked at either of the kids though he could vividly remembered rounder cheeks, rosier faces and goofier smiles. It left him reminiscing over that more and more now.

You noticed it in the most subtle ways. Geto wanting more. More of those days even though he wouldn’t outright ask.

A trace of his fingers along your collar bone drew you away from what was in your lap. For the most part you’d ignored him once he came to bed but it grew almost impossible when the sorcerer had his lips pressed to the conjunction of your head and neck while a light touch traced down your chest. Not irritated in the slightly, you still give a playful sigh as you put your book down.

“Can I help you?” You can’t even turn your head to see him. Geto’s face is pressed to you with a trail of peppered kisses following suit.

With a firm grip he slipped his fingers against your thigh to give it a playful squeeze. Geto pulled out of the crook of your neck enough to finally look at you with that off brand smirk of his, “Mayhaps.”

You grin just to lean down and catch his lips on yours. Instead though you pull away just as he was going to lean into you. Earning your own smirk to play on your lips, “Mayhaps if you ask nicely Mr. Suguru.”

The hand on your thigh tightened. Pulling you towards him in a meager attempt but for the most part you stayed rooted where you were. Only slightly letting your legs fall open as your smirk grew into a full blown smile. He was awfully soft for a man on the run orchestrating a death cult. 

Geto slipped his fingers up along the crotch of your bottoms. Nudging his forehead against yours like he’d done every night this week. An eye roll that held no merit you grab his face and kiss him deeply. There isn’t a second in hesitation as you lean into him. Geto’s fingers moving up to help you wiggle out of your bottoms. A similar scene playing out just like the previous nights but you didn’t mind in the slightest with his attention fully on you.

“You’re so wet.” He commented against your lips the second his index finger dipped between your folds.

“And you’re already hard.” You toss back to him when your palm presses up against the stark hardness hidden under his robes, “Why don’t we help each other out?”

A nod and he didn’t stop to push back into the kiss. Geto hovering above you but it was your teeth nipping playfully at his bottom lip. Leaving the man to groan as his fingertips danced on either side of your clit. Your hips coming up to join in the motion of his fingers rubbing against you. Only for a few moments though because once they were soaked enough Geto couldn’t keep them from slipping inside you.

“Fuck...you’re so needy,” You moan against Geto’s lips as he curls his fingers in on you. He wouldn’t hesitate to make you cum like this before the main event even started.

Lips back to your neck, Geto hummed something but then nodded and mumbled against the softness of your ear, “I need you.”

Reaching down to grip his forearm as Geto’s fingering picked up in it’s urgency. You regretted the moan when his fingertips brushed over your g-spot. Within seconds he was back at it. Not leaving your sensitive spot alone as your cunt twitched and tightened around him with the impending orgasm. He was gonna get one from you with not much more than a snide remark on your part.

“F-Fuck...” Lip taut with tension as you bit down, fighting it wasn’t in your best interest, “S-Suguru- I- I’m gonna-”

“Cum-” His voice almost desperate, hot breath against your neck, fingers not letting up on their assault, “Please cum- Please I need you to cum- Please-”

The want in his voice too much. Just the way he wouldn’t stop after your orgasm tipped itself over. Fingers pulling a toe curling orgasm out of you as you clutched onto his robes and felt every fiber in your body tingle with hopelessness for him.

Fingers slowing, Geto simply wiggling them around in you and feeling the slickness covering his knuckles. It was when you snagged him for a long drawn out lazy kiss. Just to follow it by an order that he get undressed already, meant the man had no choice but to listen.

Rid of his clothes and between your legs before you knew it. You look down to see him swiping his cock up through the drool of your cunt. What wasn’t on his fingers previously now coated his cock with a beautiful glisten. Geto more than enthralled seeing his cock slip between your cunt lips. Each movement of his length grinding into your sensitive nub sent a shiver up your spine. Either he was too into watching or he was teasing you. A few more swipes and you demand he get on with the main course already.

One push and Geto’s cock slipped down to the hilt with ease. Stretched thoroughly from the nightly fucking all week. Today was no different. Juices squelching around his cock Geto pushed himself down to his base. Feeling his cock bottom out in you no problem. Leaving the man to hover over you. Caged in by both his arms on either side of you. And his hair tickling your face when you looked up at him.

“You’re beautiful.”

“You’re handsome.”

Geto stalled a moment. Savoring the way his hips felt snug in yours. The residual feeling of your walls twitching around him. Not a day would go by where he didn’t swear you were made for him. 

“I love you.” His words clear and concise. You looked up at Geto once more.

What smirk you had early softened into a smile. Bringing his face down to yours for a kiss, “I love you t- fuck-” Before he let you finish Geto grinned against your lips and thrusted into you without warning. Just to watch you convulse and loose yourself on his cock. Just as beautiful as ever. He felt himself unable to control himself all over again.

Each snap of his hips into your core left you breathless. He wasn’t rough. Never was he rough. Geto’s cock curved in the right way that left you rolling your hips up to meet his thrusts. Even if it felt like he was going to split you in half, you still wanted more.

Orgasm or not Geto was bringing you right back to the edge. He always did. As you showered his face in breathless kisses. Some of those met with his own lips. Others spared on his neck and collar bone as you watched with a dazed look at where your bodies met. Geto buried inside you with each thrust. His hands hooked into your hips with your legs slightly elevated so he could defile your deepest parts. Every night this week he’d fuck you like this. In the drunken pleasurer of it all you might have thought he was trying to breed you.

“Please-” Geto’s voice peeled you away, “Please cum-”

Thinking he wanted you to cum on him again you half ass nod, “Yes- Fuck yes I’ll-”

“No-” He groaned more of a gasp. Geto putting his forehead against yours even with the dew accumulating on it, “Please- Please can I cum- Cum in you- I just-”

More than surprised. Of course he’d done so more than once before. Now he was asking you? 

“Love why ask just-”

“I want another baby-” Geto broke your question up, his hips still a mind of their own. His breath ragged against your lips and sweat making his hair cling to him, “With you- Another one- Just one- Let me fill you up- Let me fuck a baby in you- Please- I- I love you so much and-”

“Yes.”

Geto’s turn to be surprised.

“Yes please, god fuck yes- Fuck a baby inside me-” You grab Geto’s face. Caring less if you cum at this point and more for the warmth of his release. Lips smashing onto his you don’t hesitate to moan into the fevered kiss.

Geto pulling you down on him with each thrust. Driving his cock in you as deep as he could. Quicker than before like he was desperate for it. Even while your legs twitched and curled, knowing he was breeding in you, something snapped in you.

The way you can on him. Scream only muffled by the fact Geto wouldn’t move his lips from yours. Each rippling twitch of your cunt around him was maddening. Hearing and feeling you craving him sent him into a tizzy until it was simply too late. With the way he snapped his hips into. A rumbling moan emanating up from his chest. It was far too obvious when the first gush of warmth overwhelmed you.

Full well past just what oozed out of you. The mixture of cum and juices soaked the two of you as Geto’s arms waivered a little. A moment of uncertainty if he was going to pull out and waste the gift he just gave you. Instead you yank him down on you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders and loosely with your legs around his hips. Making it very obvious he was to stay in place on and in you.

Hand drawn down his back you ignore the sweat between his shoulder blades. Instead engrossed in the feeling of Geto’s cock still inside you and the heat of his chest against yours. Sighing softly to lay a kiss against his cheek you hug him a little tighter, “...you could have just said something you know.”

Exhausted and without a real witty reply. Geto had been saving this all week and now he was a little spent. Mumbling something but you didn’t hear.

The idea of being pregnant, with his child, making you smile more and more with each passing second. Even as cum dripped out of you. It was right away that you kissed the side of his head, “Looks like we gotta keep trying until you succeed huh.”

No question to it there was a twitch of excitement in all of his body. You knew neither of you would be happy now until Geto got what he asked for.

[randomfandomimagine]

Character: Eggsy Unwin

Fandom: Kingsman

Tags: Bodyguard dynamics, emotional hurt / comfort

Word Count: 614 words

Title: Knight In Shining Armor

A/N: I just rewatched Kingsman and I felt inspired to write this little Eggsy drabble because I almost forgot how much I love the movie(s) and Eggsy as well.

Want to send a request? Read my rules first, please!

You had no idea what was happening. All you knew was that you were taking a walk and next thing you knew, you were pulled into a building. Bullets rained down on you, and before you could even wrap your head around the insane scenario you had suddenly found yourself in, something else happened.

An arm had wrapped around your waist and pulled you out of harm’s way. You squirmed at first, worried that the person would further endanger you, but all concerns were pushed aside when you saw him use his own body as a shield to protect you.

You stared at your knight in shining armor. At first, you had thought that he was a random but brave passer-by that had jumped to your aid. Then, you took notice of the fancy looking suit he was wearing and of his professional posture and discarded the possibility.

“You alright?” The young man asked you, gritting his teeth as he took the impact of the bullets, which were furiosuly hitting the umbrella he was wielding like a shield to shelter you both.

“What is happening?!”

“They’re targeting you!”

“Why?!”

“No time to explain!”

He closed the umbrella and started moving, frantically dragging you with him. You ran, wincing at the urgency with which he held your arm, and tried to keep up with him. The only reason why you were following him was because your dazed brain knew that mysterious stranger was keeping you alive.

When you finally stopped running and hid behind a corner, the two of you pressed yourselves against the wall, catching your breath. He hadn’t let go of your arm yet, still using a lot of strength to hold it.

“You’re hurting me...” You told him, realizing how much your voice was shaking.

“Oh!” He immediately let go of you, patting your arm to make up for it. “Sorry, luv”

“What is going on?!” You exclaimed, earning an urgent shush from him, who nervously glanced around. Throwing any caution off the window in your frenzy, you continued. “Who are you, who are those people? Why were they shooting at me?!”

Reacting to your panic, he completely faced you and planted both his hands on your shoulders, shaking you slightly and forcinfg you to peer into his eyes.

“Look, I know you’re scared, and that you have no idea of what’s going on, but I can’t tell you right now” For some reason, his genuine expression, full of empathy, as well as his tender eyes, comforted you. “All you have to know is that I’m here to help you. I promise you, I’m gonna protect you, I won’t let anything happen to you, ‘right?”

“Okay...”

“You just need to do what I say and everything will be fine”

“Why are you helping me?”

“Because you’re innocent, Y/N, and because you’re a good person”

“You know my name...” Your breathing was becoming erratic, even if your instinct told him not to be afraid of him. “You seem to know a lot about me, but I know nothing about you, so why should I trust you?” 

“Name’s Eggsy, luv” He adjusted his glasses and grinned at you. “And I promise to tell you everything as soon as you’re safe”

“Okay...” You mumbled, begrudingly accepting to wait.

“Now... how ‘bout we get outta here and take you somewhere safe?”

He held his hand out for you to take, still smiling at you in a surprisingly reassuring way. Staring at him, you found yourself trusting that young man. Eggsy seemed intent on helping you, no matter the reason. You must be crazy for trusting a stranger with your life, but you took his hand nonetheless.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated!! // Masterlist

Tag list: @call-me-harley-quinn​ / @wonderlandfandomkingdom / @fandomxreaders​ /  @lookinsidemyhead​ / @danietoww04​ / @24-stilinski​ // Send an ask if you want to be added to the tag list for this fandom!

[ambrossart]

Any tips for new writers?

I love your writing style and I really need some…

Keep up with the good work!

😄😄

Well, I'm certainly no pro, but I can give you some tips that really helped me while I was starting out. I'm not sure how many of these apply to/will benefit you, but here we go!

Read as much as you can. Read your favorite authors. Read new authors. Read good books. Read bad books. And as you read, pay attention to how they use language, how they structure their sentences, etc. You'll learn a lot of new tricks to add to your toolkit.

Write as much as you can. This is obvious, but the only way to improve is to keep at it every day. 

Break the rules of grammar. You wanna start your sentence with a conjunction? Go ahead. You wanna write an incomplete sentence? Do it! But remember: before you start breaking the rules, you first need to know the rules; otherwise, it’ll look like a mistake. 

Use your thesaurus mindfully. Don’t be so quick to go searching for big, fancy words if a simpler word will accomplish the same thing. Expand your vocabulary naturally through reading because, more often than not, if you go hunting for words in a thesaurus, you’re gonna end up grabbing a word that clashes with the context and tone of your sentence. You don’t want this super-cool word you just discovered to stick out like a sore thumb, trust me. You will be exposed as a fraud 😂 

Physical descriptions are wonderful, but don’t let them drag down the pace of your story. Don’t pause the story to talk about your character’s head-to-toe outfit or describe what their bedroom looks like. First, ask yourself, is all this necessary? Is it revealing something interesting or important? If not, make it important or just get rid of it because the reader will probably forget it, anyway. Also, make it fun and dynamic! Incorporate those details into the action as much as possible. 

Show, don’t tell. Another obvious one. Don’t tell me what’s happening. Show me what’s happening. I don’t want a play-by-play; I wanna be on the field where all the action is. Don’t tell me what your main character is feeling. Don’t tell me these two characters don’t get along or that they’re madly in love with each other. Show it through dialogue and action. Now, there will be times when telling is perfectly acceptable (and often preferable), but when it’s important, show it. 

If you are going to tell, back it up with evidence. For example, if you say your character is a massive bookworm, have them reading every free chance they get, have their room be filled with so many books there’s no room for anything else, have them constantly making references to what they’re currently reading. Don’t just plop a book in their hands once and call it good. 

Trust your reader’s imagination. You don’t need to paint the whole picture. You just need to paint enough to guide the reader through your fictional world. They’ll fill in the gaps themselves. This applies to both physical descriptions and plot details. Don’t over-explain. Don’t spoon-feed the plot to your readers. They’ll figure it out on their own. Or they won’t and they’ll be very confused. 

Don’t treat your supporting characters like set pieces. This is a pet peeve of mine. Don’t just have them standing around waiting for your main characters to interact with them. Don’t introduce the character’s best friend and then have them disappear as soon as the romance starts... unless, of course, it’s part of the plot. Supporting characters are so important! When used properly, they add so much life and color and reveal so much about the main characters. Treat them kindly. 

Please, please, please, just use “said.” This is something that really irks me. Any dialogue tags beside “said” and “asked” should be used sparingly. Why? Because you want people to focus on the dialogue, not the dialogue tag. That word should be invisible. Readers should just skip over it. That’s why “said” and “asked” should be your go-tos. Always.

For more “natural” dialogue, eavesdrop on people’s conversations. If you don’t like the idea of that, you can also watch movies and TV shows and focus on the dialogue. It’ll accomplish the same thing. 

Also, when you’re writing dialogue, say it out loud. Hell, act it out like you’re in a play. I do this all the time, and it helps immensely. It looks really weird, but it works. Trust me, if your dialogue sounds wooden when you say it, I guarantee it’ll sound that way when people read it, too. 

Read your writing out loud! Seriously, do it. You’ll catch so many mistakes that way, and it really helps to make your writing flow better. 

Give that masterpiece some time to breathe. Before you post that final draft, step away from it for at least a day or two, then go back to it with fresh eyes. This is a crucial step in the editing process, and I cannot stress its importance enough. 

Write in your own authentic voice. Don’t force yourself to adopt a more poetic prose or use words that don’t feel natural to you. Don’t force yourself to write lots of physical descriptions if that’s not something you care about. Some of the greatest writers have a very minimalistic approach to writing. There’s no right or wrong way to do it. Do what feels right to you. 

At the same time, be open to experimenting, especially as you're still developing your own style. You won’t know if you’re good at something until you try it. 😊 

[yesimwriting]

Hello! Your Nikolai fic tranquility is so beautiful! Can you write more for Nikolai? Maybe the opposite with reader having a nightmare? Or whatever you want just please give me more! If you have a tagging list I'd love to be included btw :)

A/n hii!! first off,, thank you! i was a little nervous about writing him for the first time,, but i love him so much (even though i love a good villain/morally grey character in love i think nikolai would probably make the least toxic bf in the grishaverse lol)

you gave me a little too much freedom here lol bc i have so many ideas for him!! lowkey might need to give him a longer fic/series soon when i catch up with requests!! WOW THIS FIC IS SO LONG AND FOR WHAT

Summary: Reader is a handmaid who has grown up assisting Nikolai. Through the years, the two have developed a special relationship that most definitely breaks royal protocol--they’re best friends and rivals on a good day, and dangerously close to being something more the second either of them is remotely upset or extremely happy. Learning about the fact that Nikolai was almost engaged to Alina (a good friend of yours) and being reminded of the fact that as royalty Nikolai has many prospects (both serious women worthy of his title and women only suitable for trysts meant to relieve tension) has you both realizing something you should have years ago.

Word count: 31210

Warnings: disclaimer--may not be the most cannon thing ever,, but i wanted the ‘child of the help competes and falls in love with the child of royalty’ energy okay?? Lol

I could do a whole blurb series with this dynamic nikolai x reader,, like just stories of them growing up together and randomly realizing they might like each other romantically?? I probably shouldn’t rn but i ADORE this trope.

--

The perfection of the room is disappointing. Idle hands, idle thoughts--so I work to smooth out a perfect duvet. Still, the thoughts come--aggressive and unavoidable. It’s silly, maybe even sad, to feel possessive over something that’s never been yours, something that could never be yours, but the harder I fight off the feeling the stronger it grows. Jealousy is a weed growing quickly in my chest, vile roots planted firmly in my heart.

Normally my favorite part of the day would be waiting for Nikolai to return to his room in the palace after dinner and his evening duties. He’s always a bit softer in the evenings, during my last check-in of the day. I’m normally thrilled to be done organizing his room early because that means the second he arrives there will be no distraction. Most evenings, he’ll find me perched in the seat by his bed, reading. He’ll mock-scold me for daring to defy his orders and reading ahead from the book we both take turns reading aloud from each night. He then warns me that I better react exactly the way I did when I first read it or else. That threat is always followed by a gentle laugh.

Tonight I’m in no mood for our nightly banter or even our nightly reading. My mother had warned me of the dangers of getting too comfortable with the royal family. I should have heeded that warning when she first gave it to me, the morning she found Nikolai and I fast asleep on a couch in the library as children. The palace likes to bring up the children of the staff by training them to attend to the next generation of royals. It makes the staff more efficient, a lifetime of knowing what someone wants makes you better for them. It also creates some level of connection, making betrayal a little less likely. Nikolai and I might have taken it farther than most. But now I want a reminder of the way we’re supposed to be--maybe if I detach now the bleeding of my heart won’t kill me. That has to remain secret, because if I explain it to Nikolai something in me will break. The one line between us will be crossed.

This will be the sixth secret I’ve kept from Nikolai in my entire life.

--

The secrets:

I don’t know why I was picked for Nikolai. I wasn’t particularly skilled, but still, the day came when my mother was told that I now worked directly for the Lantsov boy. It’s an honor, a true one, but my mother had been a little nervous. To whom much is given, much is expected--and I detested Nikolai. Not for being a prince, but for being a prince who thought girls couldn’t race or fight.

The day my mother came looking for me because I never showed up for dinner and she found Nikolai and I attempting to fight in the way only a ten-year-old girl and eleven-year-old boy would, she had looked truly mortified. Nikolai had only laughed, either oblivious to my mother’s embarrassment or uncaring about it. He had then hugged me--an expression of care that had left me reeling. I saw him more as a rival than someone to tend to, but in that moment I saw him as a friend. Even more so when he told me he didn’t want me to go yet and that he was upset that so much of the day had been wasted by studies that kept him with boring people and away from me. And then he invited me to his lessons--my mother was quick to attempt to decline politely, but the desires of a prince at any age outweigh that of a mother.

After that, everyone kind of just stopped trying to remind us of our propriety. The tutor at first was concerned about my presence, but Nikolai remained stubborn. I wasn’t a big enough deal to cause an argument, so I began to attend lessons with him almost every day, only staying away when my mother needed aid with laundry or cleaning. His parents must have been somewhat aware of our friendship, but they must have been oblivious to our closeness because it was never mentioned.

My mother’s worry began to ease, she’d even started to take some pride when I’d come to our room proudly proclaiming that I scored two marks higher than Nikolai. She did, however, warn that it might be more tactful to let him score higher.

The comment was casual, just a suggestion, but it left me feeling wrong. It was the first time since we met that I had thought about our different statuses. I didn’t tell him--and that was the first secret I ever kept from him.

As we grew, we traded physical competition for academic rivalry, trying to best each other in both lessons and games of strategy like chess and cards. But with growing comes responsibility. Nikolai started to have obligations that were meant to be private. I couldn’t follow him at all times. But he’d always come back from locked door meetings grinning like he carried schoolyard gossip instead of government secrets. He shared everything with me, even when I playfully warned against it.

He’d always step closer when I teased that perhaps he shouldn’t tell me everything. And then he’d say, “If I can’t trust you, then I can’t trust anyone--and I don’t want to live in a world like that.” Often, he’d give my hand a light squeeze before moving on like he had not said anything intimate.

On a day in which Nikolai was in one of those meetings, I became a woman. When I first saw the blood, I had been horrified--but my mother was quick to explain that it was natural. She said that I was now a woman, a wonderful thing, really--but a thing that came with obligations. She told me that I could no longer have the impromptu ‘sleepovers’ with Nikolai unless he ordered it. I told her he’s never ordered me to do anything for him.

She didn’t ease, something in her had started to become nervous again. My mother had recently started to act the way she did when Nikolai and I first became friends. I didn’t want to fall asleep in Nikolai’s bed while I was bleeding, but I didn’t want to never have another sleepover with him again. Especially not when she refused to explain why being a woman changed so much.

I had decided to avoid Nikolai as much as possible until the sting of my mother’s new rule faded. Unfortunately, that night Nikolai was extra talkative--excited as he insisted I stay for a little longer. Soon, I found his familiar good naturedness melting away my nerves and before I knew it I was laughing in the middle of the night. When my eyelids started to feel heavy, I had moved from the chair, ready to head back to my room.

Nikolai had looked at me oddly before he asked why would I leave so late when it would be easier for me to just sleepover? It was an innocent question, he did not know about my change and I had wanted to keep it that way.

I tried playing coy, but Nikolai has always had a talent for getting around my better judgement. I don’t recall exactly how it happened, but I remember him standing in front of me. It was the first time I noticed how much had actually changed over the years--he was now taller than me for the first time in his life. His hair had started to grow a little longer, golden and soft-looking--and his face seemed much more angular. But he had not lost his boyish charm.

“Y/n?” My name fell softly from his lips, and that was the first time I had ever noted the fullness of them. I didn’t understand why I considered that something worth noting. “Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

Perhaps I had been a little curt--nerves and hormones had left me not feeling like myself. I didn’t tell him about the bleeding, I couldn’t. That became the second secret I kept from him--but I did tell him that my mother had told me I was a woman now, and that women can’t have sleepovers. Not with those of the opposite gender. I made no effort to hide my confusion because I expected him to be as perplexed as I was. But he was not confused--in fact, he had the audacity to laugh. My face flushed, but I did not know why.

“Why is that funny?” Maybe he thought I was still too much of a child to be considered a woman. I assumed it a fair assumption, I had not grown the way he had--my shoulders had not become sturdier and I had not become particularly broader. Still, I would rather melt into the floor than tell him about the reason my mother now considered me a woman. “My mother did say that, and I don’t know what being a ‘woman’ has to do with staying in your room at night.” Something strange had crossed over his features then, something much more brooding than I was used to.

I had blinked at him as unexplained nerves pooled in my stomach. Perhaps that look would have been enough to keep me silent if he had managed to not grin. That self-assured grin that had always challenged me. “Well since you know everything about my mother now, maybe you can tell me why she’s been acting strange. She’s starting to act the way she did when we first became friends.” I expected him to at least pretend to be worried. Perhaps his parents had spoken to her and had mentioned wanting our friendship to end. But his grin had only grown. Pride left me angry. “She did say that I could stay if you ordered it--but I’m glad you’ve never ordered me to do anything, so I can leave right now because you’re acting as odd as her. I don’t understand what you could find funny about our friendship ending.”

He had stopped me from storming out of his room by placing one hand on the wall between me and the door. “Y/n, don’t be cross--I’ll explain it all, I promise.” Angry pride made me want to storm away from him, but curiosity and something unknown and warm kept me in place. “Do you remember when we read the play about the rival families, how the two main characters had kissed?”

I remembered that part of the play especially well. The concept of kissing so casually, outside of marriage, had been jarring to me. “Yes.”

“Now that we’re older, your mother must be worried that we might do that.” He paused before leaning against the arm he placed on the wall to keep me from leaving a little more. “Kiss.”

The clarification was not needed--in that brief pause, I had allowed myself to imagine no distance between our lips. Something in me burned with embarrassment when I realized that some part of me found the thought appealing. The only thing I wanted in that moment was assurance that Nikolai would never know I felt that. That was my third secret, and the weight of it was heavy against my chest.

Still, though, all of my confusion had not yet left. “Is there much harm in a kiss?”

The question had left an odd smile on his lips. “There’s potential harm in what it could lead to for the woman, but not so much for the man.” He exhaled slowly as my face tensed. He could always read me too well because he was quick to add, “What it could lead to isn’t a bad thing, it’s meant to be pleasurable, but it’s serious.” I did not understand, but a part of me was starting to grow okay with that. Nikolai’s voice had started to become lower than ever, and his gaze remained tense. Perhaps if I accepted the confusion for now, things could go back to normal. If the conversation ended, I could stop thinking of his lips and his hands and what it would mean for them to touch me. “It’s considered a vice, like drinking or gambling.” The additional comment helped more than it should have. A vice--not scary and not painful, but not something to indulge in. That’s enough explanation for now. “If you want to know, I won’t deny you.”

I appreciated the offer tremendously. The vice that comes after kissing is clearly something that’s been intentionally kept from me. It’s something he was privy to that I was not, and he offered it to me like so much else. But if knowledge that my mother feared us kissing made me think of his lips, then I doubted I could handle knowing what comes after kissing.

“I’ll let you know when I want to know, but I appreciate the offer.” It felt like a fair response. His snarky grin came back immediately. Irritation rooted itself in my stomach. I hated not knowing more than him for once, but I still had one question I could not relinquish. “But what does that vice have to do with orders?”

At that, his smugness faltered. “It’s not unheard of, for princes and handmaids--for a prince to obligate a handmaid in order to fulfill his vice. Though many handmaids fill the vice of their own will for benefits.

The explanation left him like a confession. I didn’t understand his hesitance--it’s not like he’d ever make me do anything I didn’t want to do. Even when I worked, he was hesitant to ask me to go out of my way to bring him a glass of water. And I couldn’t imagine gaining anything from offering Nikolai something I didn’t really understand. I wasn’t naive to the fact that my life had more privileges than many palace servants. “Oh.”

His eyes hardened. “You know I’d never--”

“I know.” It was finally easy to smile again. “I never thought otherwise.” Something in him seemed to ease at that, his eyes went from hard to warm in less than a second.

I had no more questions for him and I was also no longer a flight risk, but Nikolai did not move. He did not step back to create a more appropriate distance and he did not drop his arm. His gaze, however, did move--dropping downwards, and slightly away from my eyes. I did the same, my eyes falling to his lips.

The silence between us began to make me feel like something in me was in danger of overflowing. “Then I guess my mother is once again worrying for no reason.” Strangely, I did not feel the need to feel embarrassed about staring at his lips. “Because I would never particularly want to kiss you, Nikolai Lantsov.”

The comment was meant to be teasing, a joke to clear away unknown tension. I should have known better than to challenge his pride because he instinctually moved his hand off the wall and beneath my chin. I did not flinch when he tilted my head upwards slightly with his fingers. “I could get you to want to kiss me if I wanted to.”

Three secrets in one night. I did not think I could bear a fourth one. “Hm…” The ground we treaded on felt unstable, but something in me trusted Nikolai to not let me falter. “I should--I should go before I give my mother anymore cause to worry.”

His fingers had brushed down my chin easily as he dropped his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

And that he did. The days passed without mention of the last time he asked me to sleepover. It was as if nothing had changed except now I found myself noting things I most definitely did not want to note. These didn’t feel like individual secrets because it felt easy to group each admirational thought into one secret. Soon, that became my new normal--easy banter, easy touches of hands, and easy yet silent admirations of his beauty.

I never wandered too hard about what the vice that kissing can lead to entailed. I didn't particularly want to know, but knowing that I could ask Nikolai at any time brought a sense of security to me. But besides that, I never thought of that conversation until the day I was asked to look for Nikolai because he was late for dinner.

That in itself was odd, most of the time when Nikolai was late it was because he was with you. I checked his room, two other rooms he was known to frequent, and then finally the library. First, I noticed a handmaid two years older than me. I was finally at an age when one begins to compare their beauty to those around them, and I recognized the girl as gorgeous. She was better endowed than me, physically, and she always seemed fun. And then I noticed Nikolai, standing closer to her than I’ve ever seen him stand to anyone. His expression was serious as the girl giggled.

Nikolai’s expression shifted from tense to shocked when he saw me. “Y/n.”

It took me a moment longer than it should have to realize what I had interrupted. Guilt and jealousy were quick to twist in my stomach. “Dinner--your parents sent me to look for you.”

He was quick to walk around the girl, who was quick to glare at me. I attempted to disappear down the hall after mumbling a quick apology, but Nikolai was faster than me.

“Y/n,” he did not hesitate to grab my wrist.

It shouldn’t have irked me the way it did, after all, neither of us had ever really hesitated to touch each other. I had always reached for him when I wanted him, and he had done the same. But the thought of the same hands that touched the most beautiful girl I had ever seen on me left me bitter in a way I didn’t understand.

Still, I pushed through all of that. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, your mother asked me to look for you because she assumed you’d be with me when you were late to dinner. I didn’t think that there’d be--”

“You didn’t interrupt anything.” The words came out flat as his eyes took on the same quality they did the night he explained my mother’s concern to me. “Valaria wishes there was something to interrupt, but there wasn’t.”

Oh. I refused to let the correction inflate me. “Would you like me to not come to your room tonight?”

The offer felt awkward to make. “No,” the answer came quickly, “In fact, go there now--I want to see you right after dinner. I’ve missed you today.” The instruction left my face feeling warm. “We could read an extra chapter of our book if you’d like.”

Despite myself, I grinned. “Yes.”

“Looking forward to it.”

True to his word, Nikolai was quick to return to his room. He had come back to me eagerly, going out of his way to squeeze my shoulder as he entered the room.

I opened the book to the chapter we had left off on, but before I could start reading, Nikolai stopped me. “Sit next to me?”

The question came softly. It had been some time since we sat next to each other on his bed. Still, I moved off of the chair and to his bed. Something in me longed for the familiar closeness of childhood. I allowed him to play with my fingers as I read.

“You know you could take one night off from me if you wanted to.” The admission left me softly, part of unsure if he was still paying attention to my words. “She was pretty, it wouldn’t have hurt my feelings if you told me you wanted me to not come tonight.”

Nikolai exhaled easily, squeezing my fingers once. “I said I wanted to see you and I meant it.”

It took all of my energy to push past the way his words made my stomach leap. “In general, if you ever--”

Nikolai cut me off by laying his head on my lap the way he used to. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” It was the first time in years that he spoke to me in a way that acknowledged his authority. “Keep reading please.”

And that was the last time we had ever mentioned other handmaids in that context. The fifth secret I ever kept from him was the way I worried that one day that would change.

--

The door creaks open while I’m in the middle of fluffing an already pristine pillow. Nikolai steps into the room, but I continue to work.

“Darling,” he breathes too easily, “Today has been painful.” I straighten, looking at him as casually as I can manage. “And now I have to deal with you being mad at me.”

Damn him and his ability to read me with one look. “I’m not mad.”

“You know you can’t lie to me,” he sighs, stepping forward, “We’ve known each other too long for that.”

I press my lips together, irrational anger pushing itself into me at an odd angle. “We’ve also known each other too long to keep secrets.”

His eyebrows draw together, a look so quizzical I’m reminded of our schooling days. “What secrets have I kept from you?”

Mentioning that had been a mistake. I exhale as flatly as possible. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” My dismissal only has Nikolai’s expression hardening. I drop my gaze. “Unless you need something, I’m retiring my services for the evening.”

I take a reluctant step towards the door, eyes attached to the floor. “Y/n,” his voice is gentle. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just tired.” Please let that be at least somewhat believable. “I’m sure I’ll feel more like myself in the morning.” I take another step, a little more assured. Nikolai’s hand is on my shoulder before I can escape. “Nikolai--”

“Y/n,” his voice is that of velvet, “I can’t have you be mad at me. Not now.”

Sighing, I meet his gaze. The tiredness I see behind his eyes is almost enough to chase away my nerve. What I’d give to be able to melt into our familiar routine. “Then you should have told me you were almost engaged to a literal Saint--the same literal Saint who’s one of my closest friends.”

Nikolai’s expression shifts as his hand drops from my shoulder slowly, fingers brushing down my arm before he finally intertwines our fingers. I bite my tongue to avoid squeezing his hand, but I don’t move to separate us either. He studies me silently, eyebrows drawn together. The longer he stares, the more whatever turmoil he’s experiencing seems to dissipate. After a minute of silence, I can read his expression perfectly. His lips are pressed together in that coy way--the way he only looks when he’s suppressing a smile.

I loathe him for it. “Nikolai Lantsov, don’t you dare laugh--not after what you did. Do you have any idea what it felt like to have Alina casually mention the fact that you almost married her casually? Like that was common knowledge to everyone but me?”

My words break away the last of his self control. He grins, flashing his annoyingly perfect teeth. “Do you have any idea what it feels like for me to want nothing more than to see you and then you let me believe something may actually be wrong when the only issue is your jealousy?”

The amusement in his tone is like poison to me. I find the strength to jerk my hand away from him. “I am not jealous.” He laughs; I am further enraged. “I am not.” The genuineness of my anger must finally register on some level, because he tries to suppress his smile. “I have every right to be mad at my best friend for not telling me that he was almost married.”

“We didn’t exactly come close,” he manages, expression still much too light for my taste. “I’m glad for Alina’s sake, I’m not sure being a Saint would be enough to protect her.”

He is infuriating. “I’m not sure anything you have will be enough to protect you.”

Something in his gaze shifts, softening the tilt of his mouth. “I don’t doubt that.”

I don’t know what I expected from him--but not this. I thought he’d be at least somewhat apologetic. “You should have told me.”

“I would have if I felt it was significant.”

“I’m your best friend--your marriage is significant to me. And even though it’s not like you’re engaged to her right now, you should have told me. You know I talk to Alina all the time.”

He sighs once, a hint of apology threatening to ghost over his eyes. “If I knew not knowing would have upset you so much I would have told you. I was--I was just so excited to be around you again I didn’t see much relevance in anything that didn’t involve you.”

The intensity that Nikolai regards me with is enough to wither all of my fury. But without my anger, I am left spiraling in emotion that I’ve been pushing against for years. My mother’s warning about relationships with those above us rings in my ears--sharp and headache inducing. I am still when he reaches for my hand again, but I do no allow myself to return the gentle squeeze of his fingers.

“I’m not sure much outside of you has significance.” He’s giving me a look I am familiar with. A look he often uses to chase away my anger.

Without my anger, I have nothing to keep me from melting into him, indulging in his presence fully. It’s so easy with him and I blinded myself to the danger of that. He may not be marrying Alina, but one day he will marry someone. A person worthy of his status--and what would I be left doing? Washing their laundry? Tearing up when I dusted the library and came across a book we had read together? Enough damage has already been done--I need to cut myself with this blade now in hopes of making sure I can one day recover.

He will get married one day, and nothing will be the same. And that’s a good thing--he deserves the love of a princess or queen. I want his happiness, even if it’s not with me. But some vindictive part of me hopes that some part of him will miss me. That some part of him will be dulled without me.

I’m a fool--he will remember me as the handmaid from his youth. The girl who made him laugh once or twice before he grew up. I force my hand out of his grasp. “You can’t win me over with words every time.” I need to get out of here before he says something that makes me lose all resolve. “Tomorrow morning I’ll be here to prepare you for breakfast.”

“Y/n.”

I step forward, refusing to look at him. “Goodnight.”

He sighs, his hand quick to grab my arm. Before I can question him I feel myself pulled back. I expect him to pull me just close enough so that I have to meet his gaze. He continues, pulling me sharply before placing a quick hand on my shoulder, forcing me down. My back hits his bed.

I sit up as soon as the reality of what just happened seeps into my mind. “Nikolai, what in the Saints--”

“If you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like one.”

I scoff, thoughts of escaping him put on hold by the principle of pride. Fine. I’ll beat him one last time, and then I’ll let us separate. I shove him. He laughs--of course this is funny to him. He got to keep fighting past the age of about eleven. His laughter adds to my anger, I move to shove him again, but he catches my wrist easily. I struggle against his hold, shoving him a third time with my still free hand. He pushes me slightly. That’s all it takes to unleash familiar habits.

Our small fight is hardly fair. He has all the advantage--more training, and he’s standing above me. When I finally make a move that might give me some success, Nikolai leans forward. He practically tackles me, his weight forcing me flat against the bed.

I move an arm, ready to push him off of me. Nikolai snags my wrists, holding them above my head. “This means I win.” I roll my eyes, anger returning.

“Let me go.”

He sighs tiredly, but the smugness radiating off of him is suffocating. “Admit that you were jealous.”

There are a lot of things I am willing to do for him--but never that. I cannot give him the one separation I still have. “I wasn’t.”

“Then why are you mad?”

I press my lips together. “I told you--”

“Do you really think you could lie to me?”

“You don’t know me that well.”

Nikolai moves his freehand, touching my chin as a way to ask me to look at him. I meet his gaze hesitantly. “Yes, I do, and that’s never bothered you before but it does now.”

Maybe this is a conversation better had bluntly. “It bothers me now because you’re too old to hold onto the daughter of a palace handmaid and I’m too old to pretend that our different statuses don’t matter.”

“Y/n,” he breathes, “Nothing’s changed. Status didn’t matter to me when we were children, and it doesn’t matter to me now.”

“You can afford to say things like that.”

“What good is my title if it means I can’t,” he pauses, eyes hesitant, “If I can’t keep things the same between us?”

I smile, the sadness of the look weighs on me and I can’t even see it. “Nikolai, you always knew things would change.”

“No, I--”

“You can’t tell me you think your future wife would like you having such a close relationship with a handmaid.” I press my lips together. “One day you’ll fall in love and get married and you’ll want me to leave your bedchamber as soon as dinner is over because you’ll be eager to spend time with your wife.” His gaze hardens. “And that’s not a bad thing. It’s actually a really good thi--”

The last syllable of my sentence dies in my throat. Nikolai, who must be possessed by something, leans down and presses his lips against mine. I beg myself to resist, but his gentleness is everything I’ve ever wanted. He releases my hands in favor of holding my face. That’s all it takes--my hands move without my permission, into his hair--pulling him closer to me. What am I doing? I’m insane. Placing my hands on his chest cautiously, I push just slightly. He’s quick to obey, pulling away while allowing his teeth to brush against my bottom lip.

I gape at him--taking in his now slightly swollen lips. “Nikolai.” He can’t do this to me. We’re friends. Despite the fact that I’ve loved him more than I should--we’re friends. “You’re being extremely unfair.”

He draws his eyebrows together, sitting up quickly and moving off of me. “I’m being unfair? I have spent my entire life loving y--”

I sit up, furious in a new way. “You have not!” This is the dumbest I have ever been. I move to stand, still feeling the softness of his lips against mine.

“Your tooth fell out.” The sharpness of his words forces me to still.

“What?”

I can’t bring myself to turn and look at him, but I’ve always been able to feel any heaviness he bears. The weight of it leaves little room for air in my lungs. “You were ten. I told you ‘girls couldn’t fight’ so you punched me in the face. That was the first time we ever fought--I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, but you moved. You moved and I hit you in the mouth and your last baby tooth fell out. I expected you to cry or get angry, but you just blinked at me and laughed. You were happy to lose your last baby tooth because it meant you were grown up. And then you smiled and asked me if you looked older. If anything, the gap in your smile made you look younger but I told you that you looked like a grown-up because I wanted you to keep smiling. Because your smile made me feel like I won something.” I turn on my heels, but I cannot meet his gaze. “That was the moment I fell in love with you--so don’t tell me I haven’t spent my entire life loving you.”

The weight of his words is harder to survive against than the heaviness of his feelings. “Nikolai, you know we can’t ever be together--”

“Why not?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” I manage, voice low, “You almost married the Sun Summoner--”

“That was political--”

“Exactly, your marriage is meant to be political, and if it happens to be out of love--which is what I hope you get, because it is what you deserve--it will be to someone of status.”

Nikolai stands, the movement is that of a king, not the boy I know. “I do not want status or to love someone else--I want you.”

“I can’t take that from you--”

“You can’t take anything from me because I’ve already given it all to you.”

I press my lips together, heart tearing for him. “I love you too much to ruin you.”

My words seem to snap something in him because his eyes darken, the way he watches me adjusting accordingly. “You can’t ruin something that’s always been yours.”

I let myself smile. At him. At his words. At the foolish hope the child in me has clung to after all of these years. I reach for him thoughtlessly, because I have the right to. Because I’ve always had the right to. He’s quick to respond, kissing me with much more security than before.

This time, he pulls away of his own regard. “You still haven’t admitted that you were jealous.”

His teasing smugness isn’t as sour to me anymore. “I wasn’t.”

Nikolai pulls me towards him easily, lips threatening to brush against me, warm breath against my face. “Are you sure, darling? You were awfully quick to claim what’s yours.”

I roll my eyes, grinning so widely I’m surprised my face doesn’t yet hurt. “You’re the one that fell for a ten-year-old girl with a bloody mouth.”

When he smiles back at me, he places a hand on my hip, pulling me forward slightly. “That I did.” He pulls me forward slightly. "Does this mean you can sleep in here again?"

"If anything, this is more reason for me to sleep in another room." He rolls his eyes, pulling me even closer. "But I won't tell if you don't."

Nikolai leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Deal."

tags: @deardiarystuff @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33