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red-riding-wood · 3 months

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I Want You to Want Me

Pairing: Neil Lewis x F!Reader

Fandom: Watching the Detectives

Summary: Neil receives a frantic call and finds you outside of Gumshoe after a date night gone wrong. Secretly habouring feelings for you ever since the two of you met, he finds you oddly irresistable in your tears and torn fishnets.

Warnings: SMUT, mutual pining, dub-con touching, dryhumping, riding, foreplay, teasing, begging (m), masturbation (m), clothed sex (semi), Neil being a wet paper towel, so just Neil being Neil, pervy Neil, switch!Neil, slight dom but mostly sub!Neil because c'mon guys it's NEIL, slight dom!reader, body worship, public sex (technically?), premature ejaculation (sort of?), angst, some fluff? by my standards anyway lol so take that with a grain of salt -- this ended up being more wholesome than I thought it would be

Inspired by this cover of I Want You To Want Me (the reader's song) and Creep (Neil's song) by Radiohead.

Huge thanks to @your-nanas-house for getting me started with a prompt for this and cheering me on!

Totally nicked the "jock boyfriend" inspo from @cillianmesoftlyyy's fic here; go check that out if you want more spicy Neil content, because it was fantastic!

And thank you and also fuck you to @rysko for dramatically beta reading this in my ear WHILE I WAS TRYING TO MAKE THE HEADER

And now that I'm done thanking every fic writer on tumblr, my parents, the Royal Society for the Prevention of Birds, and Saturn and all of its rings, enjoy your filth!

WC: 4239

He found you outside the back door of Gumshoe, huddled against the concrete step, the cool air of the spring night nipping at the wet tears that streaked your cheeks, the slight breeze stirring a shiver from one fretful limb to the next. The whites of your eyes burned red beneath the faint glow of the lanterns atop the neighbour’s picket fence. It wasn’t exactly the most incognito place to cry your eyes out, but you didn’t have a key to Neil’s store, and it was nearly three in the morning.

“Hey, I got your call. What’s going on?” A familiar voice broke the pitiful sounds of your sobbing, and the tension of your shoulders eased if only slightly at the mere sound.

You tried to answer past your sobs, but found that your words came only in hiccups, in broken fragments of your splintered heart, and it didn’t take long for him to sweep an arm around your shoulders, lowering himself to sit beside you on the cold step. Instinctively, you found yourself leaning into his touch, trembling against the warmth of his body.

Neil was never really great at these sorts of things to begin with, but it certainly didn’t help that his attention was drawn to the low-cut top where a tear streaked down the groove of your breasts, to the fishnets that you’d torn on your way out the door of your boyfriend’s, to the short skirt that rode up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the lace hem of your panties.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, and he tried to keep his eyes on the face you so desperately tried to hide with your trembling fingers, for you were ashamed of your unkempt appearance. You must’ve looked like a cheap whore – a mess of one, no less. You couldn’t tell what was more embarrassing: the way you were dressed, like you were begging for attention, or the way your emotions seized you so cruelly that you could scarcely breathe.

“Hey.” His warm, careful touch landed on your wrist, and as you pulled your fingers from your lashes, they came away black with smudged mascara. “I’m here,” your friend said. “Tell me what happened.”

You could still only speak in hiccups and broken vowels.

“Shhh,” Neil soothed you, fingers running up and down your spine, sending tiny shivers through each nerve as the fabric of your shirt bunched and his skin brushed yours. “Shhh. I’m here.”

Resting your head on his shoulder, your hair spilled in sticky threads over the jacket that, judging by the slight musty scent that lingered in the weave of the corduroy, had probably missed one too many washes. But you didn’t care. You’d come to appreciate the little imperfections about him, the details of his scent that made Neil Neil. Like the waxy tinge that seemed to always cling to his fingers after a long shift of rolling back tapes. Like the silk cream and smoke of the vanilla candle you’d gifted him last week. Like the artificial scent of cheap shaving cream and the slightest hint of blood where he’d nicked himself with the razor. The musk of his sweat and skin, buried beneath all these little things that you’d come to know almost as intimately as your own.

But there was something else, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. And its unfamiliarity unnerved you.

His other hand came to rest on your knee, hot as fire in the cold of night. He thumbed at the tear in your fishnets and looked at you with bright, concerned eyes, but he used this as an excuse to touch you.

“Did he hurt you?” Neil asked. His hand stayed on your knee. In a way, it felt comforting; it grounded you enough so that, finally, after lulled by the rise and fall of his shoulder and the unique blend of his scent, you could speak.

“Is that cologne?” You wrinkled your nose and drew back to look him in the eye, your tangled hair peeling reluctantly from his corduroy jacket.

A rose blush came upon Neil’s cheeks, and he smiled nervously. He’d been sure to spritz himself with a good helping of it before he left, despite his hurried state. He needed to impress you; ever since you’d started dating that jock from across the street, he’d been trying to find more ways to steal your attention back.

“Yeah, it’s new,” he said, a little flustered, in a way that made your stomach flutter. “I wanted to ask for your opinion on what I should get, but you – well…” His voice cracked a bit as a hint of sadness crept into his tone. “… you’ve been pretty busy lately.”

“It’s awful,” you told him, laughing slightly, and your words seemed to cheer him up; his lips tugged into that playful grin of his again, and a deep chuckle rumbled from his throat.

And then you both fell into silence, and he looked back to your knee, still thumbing the skin where the fabric had torn.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Neil said.

You swallowed, another lump forming in your throat, and when you looked at him, bottom lip in your teeth, reddened eyes pouting, rimmed by your messed mascara, his heart sped in his chest in both fear and arousal. The thought of James even touching you boiled his blood, made his skin crawl and tightened a noose round his neck, but seeing you like this, baring your soul to him with those tear-brimmed eyes and mournfully upturned brows, it made him want you even more.

If he’d been the one to take you out tonight, he would’ve brought you home to his bed, worshipped each inch of your hallowed skin and made love to you like you were the only woman in the world, splayed his fingers across your thighs and parted them like a sea, dropped to his knees and prayed with the hungered strokes of his tongue and lapped at your holy waters.

He’d started reading poetry lately. It had felt right; it was the only thing that seemed to express just how he felt about you. Echoed the words in private like they were gospel; chanted your name from desperate lips as he palmed himself each night – and morning – to your photographs, to the vanilla of the candle that reminded him so much of you, to the fantasy of your sweat-slicked thighs wrapped around his waist, your walls clenched around him as he bucked his hips against your weight and finally let himself go, spilling himself inside you and hearing you moan so sweetly for him from those heavenly lips, feeling his own cum dampen his stomach as you collapsed over him. He always knew you’d be so tight, that you’d fit so perfect around him.

But sitting here, staring at your shivering, impotent form in your torn fishnets and your skimpy attire, he could barely contain the urge to tear open your knees and fuck you against the concrete. It had been so long since he’d even been this close to you; James took up all of your time nowadays, and gone were the late movie nights and stolen games of basketball on the breaks he took so liberally.

He missed you. So much.

And you knew it. You knew it, deep in your chest where the remnants of your heart twisted, still hearing the words, “You’ve been pretty busy lately.”

You shook your head, choking out another sob as shame crept along your skin, and you shivered at its grotesque touch. “No, he didn’t hurt me… not – not in that way.”

You couldn’t look at him; his pearlescent blue eyes and his sun-kissed freckles and his boyish brown locks all fading into memory as you buried your face in his chest, inhaling once more the faint scent of his laundry detergent and the musk of him beneath the shirt that was flipped inside-out but still outlined the blatant logo of Back to the Future. Whether he hadn’t realised he’d put it on backwards or he’d been shy about it, you couldn’t be sure, but it lightened your heart all the same, your sobs turning to giggles.

Neil pulled you closer, his chin resting along the nape of your neck and his hand running up your thigh; you barely noticed how near his hand was to your panties as you tugged at his shirt, nails sinking past the fabric as if to keep him and never let him go.

You regretted all that time you’d spent with James, when you should have been spending it with him instead. Everything felt so much easier with him; your smiles were broader, your laughter more carefree.

But you wanted more – selfish and lovesick, you wanted more than what he already gave you. You needed more than his attention and his friendship.

You needed him to want you.

“I thought that…” You sniffled. “… I thought that James wanted me. I dressed up all… nice… fucking whorish… and I thought tonight was finally the night and that he would’ve… that he would’ve…”

The words twisted in your throat, and you squeezed your eyes shut. Two hours ago, when you did up your makeup and clothes for your date with James, you’d felt sexy. Powerful, even.

Now, you just felt worthless.

Neil nestled his nose in the crook of your neck, brushed the silk strands of your hair aside, breathed your scent in so deeply that for a moment, the butterflies came back to the pit of your stomach.

“I just want to be wanted,” you admitted, losing it, sobbing uncontrollably into the now-damp shirt that clung to his thin frame. “I just want to be desired. That was the only reason I was with him, Neil. The way he looked at me that day when he came into the store, I…”

With a bitter pang in his chest, Neil remembered that day. The way James had looked at you like you were a piece of meat. The way he’d asked you if had any recommendations on which sports film he should rent and Neil had practically wedged himself between the two of you and started chattering to James about every little piece of trivia he knew about Chariots of Fire and Rocky. How, despite his efforts, James had still gone home with your number as well as the tapes. How you’d come in the next morning with a hickey on your neck and Neil had just known that where James had paused one of the tapes was when your movie night was likely cut short by… things he’d rather not think about ever again.

It should’ve been his couch you’d been curled up on, should’ve been him watching the movie with you. His mark on your neck.

And he would’ve picked something a little more fitting for the mood, too. Something more like Casablanca or Sin City. It was as if James didn’t even have to try to get you drooling over him. What was so special about him, anyway?

I wish I was special, Neil thought.

Neil’s grip on you tightened at the memory, nails digging in to the flesh of your thigh in a way that stirred a little gasp from your lungs, huffing against his collarbone as you tilted your head up to look at him.

“Y/N.” His breath caught in his throat, and he reluctantly pulled from your neck to look you in the eye, locks of messy hair falling across his forehead and his eyes half-lidded. His fingers ghosted up your thigh, and you blinked past the sharp mint of his mouthwash – it burned your eyes slightly, but you didn’t care. You were so close to him, your breaths became one, a few threads of his hair tickling your cheeks and his nose brushing yours.

“Neil,” you breathed, the slightest of smiles tugging at your lip as your heart thudded between your legs, dangerously close to his fingers. Warmth spread across each fevered limb, taking you somewhere past the cold concrete and bitter chill of the wind, somewhere away from the graffiti-painted alley and the reek of broken booze bottles. Somewhere safe, and warm, and thrilling all at once.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Neil’s voice cracked around the words, a nervous laugh huffing against your fluttering lashes as his freckled cheeks darkened another shade of red. The hand that wasn’t between your legs played with a lock of your hair, twirling it in his finger but still supporting you beneath a quivering arm.

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t believe this was real.

He had to have been playing some sick joke, right?

But the whimper that fell from his lips was very real, as his nails dug into your flesh again and he tugged you closer, his hips arching upward against your outer thigh.

“You look more than nice. You’re so fucking hot in this skirt, in anything you wear. That asshole is fucking blind,” he breathed, fingers grazing your panties and landing over your hipbone, testing the waters more and more as he tried not to rock his growing arousal too obviously against you.

But you noticed. You noticed the way his cock hardened and twitched beneath your weight; you noticed how even despite his body trembling from his attempts to resist his primal urges, his hips still gave little bucks upward, seeking friction. Seeking the heat that flared between your thighs, that ached for him so desperately that it was all you could do not to return the favour.

He couldn’t take it anymore. Staring into those gorgeous, bright eyes. Looking up at him with anything but innocence. So he scooped both hands around your ass, squeezing the flesh and lace and tugging you properly onto his lap with an alluring squeal tearing from your full lips.

“I want you, Y/N.” His hot breath pooled at your collarbone as he trailed wet, sloppy kisses along your jaw, your neck, and your lips parted in another gasp, back arching and thighs clenching around his waist as you ground wet panties against the bulge in his trousers.

“I fucking need you,” he whined, nipping like a needy puppy at the delicate skin of your neck. “Always have.” Another kiss. “Ever since I first saw you. Long before James.” A possessive growl stirred from his throat at that, the flare of dominance sending a jolt through your core.

“Neil, I – oh my God.” A moan broke your words as his fingers moved up your spine and his teeth grazed your collarbone, hovering over your pulse point.

“Fuck, baby. Say that again. Just like that.” His fingers began rolling your shirt up over the lip of your breasts, the sight enough to make him whine again in need. He couldn’t help himself from groping you, squeezing your breasts and rolling one nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Bending his neck to trail more sloppy kisses down your torso, they were his next destination.

“Oh my – Neil. Neil, I – “ You had so much to tell him, so much you needed off your chest, but his hips bucked sharply against you at the sound of his name moaned so beautifully, a low groan in his throat and his cock digging slightly inside your heat, the fabric of your panties scraping almost painfully against your walls.

“Please, Y/N, please don’t make me stop. Please let me keep touching you like this. I wanna worship you.” His hot breath shattered against a pert nipple. “Wanna fucking prove to you how much I want you.”

For a few moments, you were rendered speechless, mind whirring like the wheels on a VHS. Everything was happening so fast, and the warmth of his touch was seeping into you like honey, inundating you in a sort of comforting flame.

He could almost smell the vanilla of the candle wick burning.

You left nail marks down his chest where you clawed at the collar of his shirt, but he didn’t care. He sucked a nipple past his teeth and moaned around the taste of you, the sound so filthy that your eyes nearly rolled back in your skull as your parted lips tipped to the heavens. His name outlined by their perfect shape.

Reality came crashing down around you as you jumped, another squeal leaving your tongue as his teeth bit at your nipple and pain shot along your nerve endings.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, chest heaving, looking up at you with reverent eyes. “I didn’t mean to, I – “

You cupped his chin in your palm and shook your head. “No, Neil. I’m sorry.” A tear streaked down your cheek, beaded on your jawline. “I’m so, so sorry.” You were beginning to sob again, and his brow furrowed in concern, thumb beginning to trace small circles along your spine. “I’m sorry I abandoned you for James, I didn’t… I shouldn’t have. I didn’t know you felt this way, I – I’m so sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he told you, his words sinking into your skin like a warm tide. With one hand, he brushed the tear from your jaw and wove his fingers into your hair, pulling you closer. “Just let me keep touching you. Please.”

When you didn’t respond for a moment, caught up in the way his blue eyes seemed to hollow with a certain hunger, the way his chest rose and fell beneath the bare flesh of your stomach, he uttered that word again:

“Please.”

You smiled, elated and giddy with joy, blood pounding with arousal, and kissed him, threading your own fingers into the fluffy locks of his hair.

Another tear streaked across your lips as they met his, and you tasted like salt and vanilla, slightly waxy from your chap-stick but the sweetest thing he’d tasted nonetheless. At first, he was embarrassed by the noises he made, the way he’d accidentally called you “baby” because he’d always wanted to do so, but he melted beneath you like butter. Nothing mattered anymore except the fact that you were finally his, that you were in his arms and grinding against his cock.

Neil broke the kiss to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside somewhere on the concrete – he would buy you a new one. His hands flattened against your back and pulled you flush to his chest, taking any excuse he could to hear that little squeal you made each time.

“Please, baby, please let me be inside you,” he whined, biting his lip as he stared up at you with those powder-blue eyes. Nails dug into your skin. Hips bucked against yours.

Your heart soared with his words, his worship, his want; you’d never been this ecstatic in your whole life. Part of you wanted to keep teasing him, make him beg, while another part of you ached to feel him buried to the hilt inside you.

“Patience, Neil,” you giggled, as you undid his trousers. You worked them down to his knees and your eyes widened as your hand brushed his cock, bare and springing flush against his stomach. You hadn’t expected him to not wear boxers.

Neil smiled sheepishly up at you, eyes still lidded, mouth still panting out a fevered breath. “I was in a rush getting dressed. I…” His cheeks reddened, and there was something so cute about how pathetic he looked in that moment. “You wanna know how much I want you, Y/N? I was touching myself thinking of you when you called.”

Creep, some voice in the back of his head hissed.

You bit your lip to suppress a moan, trying to ward off thoughts of Neil stroking himself to you, finishing to the thought of you. Oh, how you wished you could have witnessed the sight.

“Did you come?” you asked, a devious grin pulling at your lips as you took him in your hand, massaging a bead of pre-cum into his sensitive flesh.

His eyes fluttered, and he shook his head, his words coming out as a breathy whine,

“No, I promise. I didn’t come. Not yet.”

“Will you?” You dipped your head to let your words tickle his neck, your grip on him tightening.

“Yes,” he moaned. “Yes, yes, oh God, I will. Fuck, baby. Fuck, gonna come if you don’t stop that, need to come inside you, please, please…”

His mutterings trailed off into a low hiss of a whine, and your movements stilled, dragging him to his peak and letting him teeter at the edge as you both caught your breaths, chest heaving and a cold chill racing down your sweat-slicked back, thighs trembling around him.

“You sure you can handle this?” you purred against his ear before pulling back once more to witness the shivering mess you’d made him, priding yourself in your accomplishment. Lining his cock up with your entrance, the fabric of your panties scraped his tip teasingly as you slotted them to the side.

Neil looked up at you like you were some kind of goddess, his breathing coming laboured, his throat stripped of words. The dazed, blissful look he gave you was all the answer you needed. But you wanted to reap him of every last praise he had.

“Use your words, Neil,” you giggled, smirking.

“Ah…” His lips parted, near soundless. You watched intently as they formed the word “Please”.

You almost felt bad for him.

But it wasn’t pity that brought your hips down around him, slowly, teasingly, savouring the stretch of him against your walls and the fullness in your belly, but rather, your own need.

Neil’s head rolled back against the brick wall, blood welling at his lip where he bit it to keep himself from toppling over his peak; he nearly did it to himself when he bucked his hips upward, burying himself inside you, making you whimper at the pain that blended so sordidly with the pleasure. Your fingers tugged at his hair, and your nails grazed his scalp, and every little sensation sent him into overdrive. He used these little things to ground himself, as you had his tangled scents; he focused on how smooth your stomach felt against his own, his shirt hiking up so that you were skin to skin; he focused on the noises you made, huffing and whimpering, as you began to ride him; he focused on the softness of the breast that he cupped in his hand. Tried not to think about how you felt better than he’d imagined, how you clenched so tightly around his cock that he was almost pushed out each time you elevated your hips, but were so wet for him that he slid back inside so seamlessly each time.

“Neil,” you moaned as you fucked yourself on his cock, breast bouncing beneath his thumb, skirt fluttering around the bareness of his thighs. “Neil, fuck. Fuck.”

“Baby, I’m s—sorry. I’m gonna…”

You yelped again as pain shot deep inside your core, his hips bucking against yours with a violence you hadn’t known sweet Neil from the VHS store to possess, bottoming out inside you as his nails dug into the now-abused skin of your back and pulling you close, so close you were panting over his shoulder and his breath shattered against your ear. The hand that had been cupping your breast shot up to cradle your head, petting your hair.

He held you to him so tight, you didn’t think he’d ever let go. And you couldn’t have been happier.

Warmth spilled around his cock, sticky against your thighs, painting your insides white. You shuddered around him, balling his hair into a fist and digging your own, sharper nails, against his back.

“I didn’t mean it to be over so fast,” he mumbled into your neck. “I just… you’re so… fuck, I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

“So have I,” you breathed. You practically hugged each other, shivering in the night air but content in each other’s warmth. “Don’t worry.” Pulling away slightly, you smiled down at him, cheeks flushing bright red. “If anything, it… it’s endearing.”

“Really?” he chuffed out a laugh.

“It…” you looked down, unable to meet that crystalline gaze. “It makes me feel wanted.” You pecked a quick kiss to his jaw, and could’ve sworn you saw love in his eyes when you pulled away.

“God, you’re perfect.” His voice broke again as his lips sought yours, and his breath hitched in his chest when the action caused you to rock your hips forward, a new sensation he’d never felt before buzzing along his skin. His mouth hung open and you laid kisses to his lips, his jaw, the Adam’s apple that bobbed along his throat. He felt his cock stiffen again inside you, already eager for Round Two.

“I should take you home,” he murmured, hands running up and down your sides. “You must be so cold.” As if just realising that he still had his jacket on, Neil shrugged it off in haste and wrapped the heavy material around your shoulders. A chill ran down your spine, as the material was damp with sweat – you smiled at how predictably forgettable he was when he had a woman on his lap, just as you’d imagined –, but his scent soothed you.

Though you were cold, it was a small sacrifice to make to stay here, with him buried so deep inside you that you felt dizzy in the head. Depleted of your energy and sinking into his warmth, you smirked, and rested your chin on his shoulder.

“I was thinking of just staying like this a while,” you admitted.

“Whatever makes you happy,” he breathed, hugging you even tighter. “Whatever you want.”

A.N. Sorry if this was a bit rough, guys. I smashed this one out the other day because I was tired of my writer's block.

I actually laid into some themes that I was planning on using for a Dark!Neil fic based on the song "Creep" which I don't know when I'll get around to writing, but let me know if you guys would like to hear more about the idea for the series or are interested.

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shootingmorningstar · 1 month

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[slides on in] well hello there fellow lucifer fanatic

could i request some hcs with luci and an indecisive reader? gn and established relationship!! ex: he asks what they want for dinner and they panic trying to pick something because they feel like they need to decide right then and there or they’ll annoy him.

please and thank you! 🫶

anon, you're just like me fr. i also can never make up my mind and love lucifer. i'd be happy to write this for you .ᐟ

thank you for my first request, by the way ~ .ᐟ now to get to the good part.

LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X GN! INDECISIVE READER

Look at this man. This is the man who has piles upon piles of rubber ducks in his workshop. You cannot tell me Lucifer isn't also indecisive, at least when it comes to less serious things.

Seriously. You expect me to believe he hasn't looked at his own work and went 'nope, looks bad. starting over.' .ᐣ

With that being said, I think he would find it an incredibly endearing trait in you. The concentrated face you make when you're stuck between two options .ᐣ Absolutely adorable.

That is, until the unsure and conflicted look on your face morphs into one telling of your anxiety and worry.

Now, I hope you'll excuse the bird pun, but he is absolutely a mother hen type.

The second he sees even a hint of panic on your face .ᐣ He's immediately shifting all of his focus on you -- if it hadn't been already.

He's rushing over to you without you having to so much as ask -- his beloved partner, distressed .ᐣ No matter the reason, that won't do. He won't rest until he sees you smiling again.

Wrapping his arms around you in a hug, likely even his wings, too. He's suffered so many panic attacks before, he knows just how miserable they are.

He wishes you had come into his life earlier so you could of comforted him through the worst of his.

Even if your panic hasn't dissolved into a full blown attack, he is there. His touch is grounding, it helps you calm down and come back to reality.

When your heart's stopped racing and you look as if you're able to talk about it, he'll ask you just what has you so distressed.

Don't even bother trying to lie to him. He can tell when someone's hiding their feelings.

He won't force you to tell him, though. He just wants to know what went wrong so he can help prevent it from happening again.

If you decide to share your worries with him, he wouldn't belittle you in the slightest. Is it time you need .ᐣ You two have all the time in the world.

Would you rather he choose .ᐣ Because he wouldn't mind.

Or if it's something more serious, he offers to sit down with you and discuss the pros and cons of each -- maybe you two can come up with a decision together .ᐣ

His face sort of falls if you decide to tell him part of the reasoning behind your anxiety is a fear that you'll end up annoying him. Did he do something to make you think he'd judge you .ᐣ

Or maybe he got short with you .ᐣ He's so apologetic. He wants you to feel like you can share anything and everything with him.

He won't let himself start feeling overwhelmed with guilt, though. This moment is about you and the reassurance you need, not his guilt issues.

Explain to him that you know he'd never do such a thing and that it's just an irrational thought coming from worry and he's taking your face into his hands, telling you that he would never, ever think less of you, much less get upset over something as silly as struggling to make a choice.

Like he said earlier, let him help you choose. You two are stronger together and this is no exception.

He's always soft to you, but count on him being even more so than usual for the rest of the night. You two can watch your favorite show or movie -- or whatever you'd like to do to destress. ♡

first request finished ~ .ᐟ how'd I do .ᐣ i'd love to hear your thoughts. feedback fuels my writing muse more than anything else .ᐟ

i'm really hoping this formats correctly, i'm used to using the tumblr app && currently stuck on laptop </3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #admin kitty #lucifer morningstar

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gowns · 2 years

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which brings me to my next theory, which is that we've seen an increase in screentime with kids along with 1) obviously, an increase in screentime with adults. people w/o kids love to say "parents shouldn't give their kids screens just to pacify them!" when they are constantly in the act of pacifying themselves with netflix, youtube, spotify, instagram, tumblr, whatever. but also, 2) an increase in the surveillance of parents and children. right? like, yes, screens pacify children. but there is also a value placed on "pacified children" in public spaces. i don't use that many screens with my kids (we keep the television in the closet lmao) and they tend to be goblins / gremlins / feral creatures / sobbing limp noodles -- at all times, but also in public. and yes, i have seen the glares and stares. reactions to their normal child behavior. people in general do not dig kids, man. and that's due to the separation of social spheres in this society... teenagers are over there, elderly people over there, parents with young kids over there, etc, and they are purposefully all kept separated, and people don't know what the fuck to do when the spheres intersect. if there was less social judgment of children and more of a cohesive helpful social structure things would be a lot easier for parents, and then parents wouldn't feel like they had to pacify their children with screens just to get through sitting in a waiting room. you know what i'm saying? i'm saying that your same impulse to judge the parent with the kid and the phone is the same watchful eye that makes the parent anxious and feel they have to use the phone with the kid.

#and this state of constant judgement and surveillance is also adding to YOUR SOCIAL ANXIETY #THAT MAKES YOU FEEL THAT YOU HAVE TO BE ON YOUR PHONE IN PUBLIC #DO YOU KNOW WHAT I'M SAYING?

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byoldervine · 16 days

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How To Identify Active vs Passive Voice In Your Sentences

To clarify, active voice is when the subject is performing the action, experiencing the emotion, etc. and passive voice is when the subject undergoes the action, emotion, etc. These basically come up in sentence structure as a way to make a character feel like they have more or less agency

The way to identify the difference, or at least the way I’ve used for years, is to put ‘by zombies’ after the verb. If it’s coherent, it’s passive voice, and if it isn’t, it’s active. Let’s use some examples:

“She was killed (by zombies)” -> coherent, passive

“Zombies killed (by zombies) her” -> incoherent, active

And the effect of these techniques in your writing is to make the subject read as though they have more or less agency depending on the situation, even without changing what’s going on in the scene. Neither is necessarily better than the other, it’s all about utilisation in the correct circumstances

Now some longer, Tumblr friendly examples, and you can try and practice identifying active and passive voice if that can help you:

“You kneel before my throne unaware that it was built on lies”

“It may not be that deep, but the ground is soft and I’m ready to dig”

“I hope I make it a little softer here for someone”

“If they won’t match your effort, they don’t want to be in your life”

“God may judge you but his sins outweigh your own”

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alistairsmonstercafe · 2 months

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Hi! Just incase you do requests, could we please have some wraith-ghost x werewolf!reader? I saw the fanart and couldn’t stop thinking about Ghost being absolutely dwarfed by their partner especially in their shift.

(And in case of nsfw, imagine ghost helping his partner through rut and getting absolutely railed by his bf half-shifted. The size difference is going crazy!)

NSFW Guiding A Shadow

NOTICE Male Werewolf TOP/DOM reader

CHARACTER BOTTOM/SUB Wraith Ghost

CW Scent Kink, monster fucking, size kink, werewolf rut, slight blood (just mentions of you scratching him accidentally with claws), mentions of poly relationship with 141 (so no cheating they all bang each other like horny rabbits)

ADDITIONAL I don't mind Fem/Fem aligned readers reading but don't feel insulted/complain that I strictly don't do Fem reader, not my cuppa tea mate.

INSPIRATION @/Bluegiragi Monster AU on Twt and Tumblr

NOTE Sorry for my sudden absence a while ago... Cough.. I think in my little adhd brain I had a fit of hyperfixation and just burnt out as easy as I came.

When you had first arrived in the helicopter, the moment Ghost had caught even a whiff of a tail, he groaned. Another werewolf? Albeit larger. But after Soap was just as recent? He prayed you weren't like him.

Well. Hoped.

He looked at you what could only be assumed from under his balaclava was a scowl. Eyes looking you up and down with a harsh crease in his eyebrows. Furrowed and judging as you walked off the plane.

Training would never be fun with a werewolf, that was for sure with their size, and with you? Many dwarfed in comparison. You were not as bulky as Soap, persay, but damn, you were built. Decently thick legs and a height that towered over many, even Ghost. Fur upon different parts of your body and decently groomed might one say.

And after hitting it off with Soap (as he wished wasn't expected,) he was yet then assigned with the task of watching over you. The likes of you, of which, while quiet, seemed to be influenced by Soap that he, Ghost, was not as scary as he turned to be. No matter how many growls or warnings of what he could do to you, you never seemed to be phased. And just as Soap had wiggled into Ghost's heart, who said it could only hold one?

You had seemed to wedge your way into that dark depth he called a heart. (As how he always described it, but nobody ever believed him.) And he seemed to accept you more. React less to your energy and simply nod. The best you could ever get you supposed. But who could complain? Not you, thats for sure.

The real kicker had been training day. It was you, Gaz, Ghost, Soap, and Price gearing up for what was meant to be a casual spar. Soap seemed ecstatic at a new man who could keep up to his size, and even challenge him. Price and Gaz could only agree to see how this would play out.

But Ghost? His eyes never left you. Narrowed and watching. What would your werewolf form look like? Were you smaller, or bigger then Johnny? Did you go just as wild as Johnny did on a full moon, more or less?

There were many unexplained questions, many both answered and many forgotten in a series of minutes as he saw your form.

That shouldn't have explained the sudden tent in his pants when he saw your wolf ish form panting over Johnny's, teeth playfully bared and a paw like hand keeping Johnny firmly planted into the floor as he surrendered.

That shouldn't have explained the sudden burning arousal in his core.

That shouldn't-

But it did.

And all Ghost could do was excuse himself for the restroom. Undoing his belt with whisps of smoke practically fighting to not let lose on his forearms. Muttered curses of mild frustration as he groaned and let out his cock, freeing it from his boxers as he bit his glove hard and stroked it. He couldn't let anyone know how much this affected him.

His mind foggy and desperate in both a want of release and mild curiosity, Ghost wondered how you'd feel. Hell, he was aware he'd only been interested a few times in his life, few one night stands, few casualties here in there in the squad.. But there was something about giving the control to someone who didn't always have a human form for the night made him curious.

Apparently curious enough to cum on his hand, breathing heavily as he was pulled from his high with a knock on the bathroom door.

"Hurry it up Lt, lads eh waitin' for ye." Soap grumbled, the sound of him walking in and turning on the tap was quiet.

"Out in a minute." Ghost could only reply, pulling up his boxers and zipping up his pants. He wiped down everything and pushed the stall door open to see Soap leaning against the sink with a raised brow, looking a little bruised.

"Look a little bruised there, Johnny."

Soap scoffs and shrugs.

"Tha' lad did aye number on me. Accidently broke the lads phone, but for a wolf of tha' size, I'd guess his family wasn't small either."

Size. Back to the size, practically forgetting about the fact your phone broke and Ghost was reminded when his mind briefly drifted back to your size, large and imposing an-

"Ghost to earth. Ye there or did ye ascend to high heaven to meet the queen?"

"I'm here, I'm here. Just had a thought."

"About a certain little wolf?"

"Shut your trap." Ghost had looked away as he was snapped from his thoughts once more, brushing past Soap as he reached for the door.

"You can do that a later day." Soap hummed. Watching Ghost leave with a cheeky grin.

Later that day, in the mess hall you were seen chatting idly with the squad, complaining on the cafeterias shitty meat options as everyone could only ever agree.

"I'm tellin' you guys, how can you even eat this shit? Tastes worse then a dog's ass." You groan, poking at the slice of supposed ham.

"An' how do you know what a dog's ass tastes like mate?" Gaz teases quietly, before getting a firm smack on the head by Soap.

"Look at us mate. We ain' exactly the people you wanna ask when knowing that of all things."

Gaz shrugs and gives a laugh. But you seem to pay no mind to their conversation, your eyes scanning around for Ghost. It had been a while since he was supposed to meet with the rest of you for dinner.

"I think I'm full, I'm gonna go look for Ghost, alright?" You mention quietly, and the rest nod, but Price seems to have an idea and shrugs, looking to the side.

Walking through the halls you pass by a calander, January 24. January 24? Why did that seem so familiar? It wasn't a birthday or a meeting, so you shrugged it off. A broken phone wouldn't serve you any good either. And you didn't feel too off aside from a few aches from today's spar.

But when you knocked on Ghost's door, a scent hit your nose like a truck. And a few soft groans was enough to let you know what was happening.

"Ghost?" You called out quietly, unsure to knock again.

"Can I come in?" You ask, even while fully aware of what's happening, leaving your tail wagging and your mouth almost salvating, you hold respect as you grip the door knob.

But when a strained voice of "come in", is spoken, you almost quickly push open the door. Seeing as Ghost lays on his back, two fingers stuffed into his hole as he looks up at you with a dazed expression.

"Interested in helpin' your superior out?" He groans, head falling back a little as his fingers press near a spot inside him.

And you can easily feel the strings of your restraint tear, the scent of him so aroused, so wet, so perfectly presented for you makes your instincts practical drool. A perfect position for a mate, and a perfect way to start the spring season.

You quickly find yourself on top of him, face buried in his neck as you lap at the scent, tongue licking where it can while your hand finds its way to his mouth. Shoving it in whilst he gives a muffled whine on them. But you know it's hard to restrict yourself in the confindes of a more human then wolf body. And it's almost like a silent plead to be allowed to switch as you look up at Ghost and whine, rutting your cock against his thigh.

"Fuckin' hell.. You have my permission. Go wild." Ghost whispers as he tugs you in close by the collar. And that enough is able to grow you around 4x in size. Clothes easily removes and teared off as your cock lays heavy against his thigh, as you continue to rut, and your fingers have long replaced his in his hole as you pump in and out, stretching him on your thick fingers as your long tongue finds its way up and down his body.

"F-fuck that tongue..!" Ghost moans out, back arching into your touch as the thickness of your fingers, your tongue, and heavy cock all feel like so much on him, and he loves it. Craves it even. And it's when you remove your fingers, in that brief moment he knows he's going to not be able to move for quite a bit after that.

And the stretch is even better. The thickness of your cock at the tip pushes in and burns delightfully, filling him up as you drag it down until it reaches near the base. But not entirely to leave room for the knot soon later. A slow paced easily turned into Jackhammering as you snapped your hips quickly into place after bottoming out in him, your claws digging into his thighs and hips causing mild drips of blood that Ghost couldn't care more about and flipping him over onto his stomach to reach deeper positions, and seeing a small tummy buldge hidden beneath as you place your free hand under it, making his whispy shadows go rampant on his body, his shadows shakily wrapping around the fluff of your neck to pull you in, mumbling praises. "G-good fuckin' boy- Oh fuck! So-.. So good fuckin' your lieutenant like a good pup-!"

It makes your tail wag faster and your mind run rampant on breeding the man below you, as you feel your knot built up.

All the sensations make Ghost jolt, moan, squirm, and whine. But the size and stretch is so worth it, and he wouldn't have werewolf cock any other way.

#cod #cod mw2 #male reader #alistair writes ☕️#monster au #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x male reader #bottom ghost simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #bottom ghost #ghost x male reader #ghost cod

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s1m0nth3swag · 13 days

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Hello, Simon! I enjoyed reading some of your recent works for Francis Mosses 🥺 is it okay to request for period comfort? keep it SFW please! I'm just in a emotional rollercoaster right now because of it and I don't see much sfw works of Francis here on Tumblr. Thank you so much in advance! 🤎

Tysm for the ask anon, so sorry it took this long!

I've been working on some personal projects recently and have had less time to write (especially since I now have to actually take care of some of my grades because some aren't looking too good.... whatever, though I'm balling through, it'll be fine)

Also, I'm so so sorry this is short because, uhm, how do I write about period comfort when all I usually do is ball through and act like the tough man I totally am (not)

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; GN!Reader but mentioned to be afab due to having Periods, established relationship but not having been together for that long, Francis is a little silly and unsure at first because that man wouldn't know what to do and I stand by that statement.

When you had woken up this morning, you had immediately known. Just that feeling of being uncomfortable, as if your body needed to make extra sure to signal you that you weren't pregnant. You groaned in annoyance, wanting to sleep for a little longer, but if you did that, you'd probably end up having to change your bedsheets, and that's the last thing you wanted to do right now. So, instead, you trotted to the bathroom.

Meanwhile, your boyfriend Francis was absolutely confused. You weren't the type to get up early, especially not when he was staying over. Usually, you'd snuggle up to him, wrap your arms around his waist to keep him in bed with you. He figured you maybe just needed to go to the toilet, though something seemed a little off. He didn't pay it much mind, though, simply drifting off into a state of being half asleep again. At least until you practically fell into bed, making the mattress creak. "Francis." You grumbled, moving to press your face against his neck like you'd always do when he stayed over and was still with you in the morning. "Mm?" He hummed, his hand coming up to carefully run through your hair. "Got my period." You huff, your face scrunching in annoyance. Francis is caught off guard for a moment. "At least you aren't pregnant?" He mutters, trying to lighten your mood, though that only results in having you hit his chest softly. He really doesn't know what to do. He never had to deal with this before. "What usually.. I don't know.. helps? Makes it better?" He asks. Francis has heard of buying chocolate or making a hot water bottle, though he really wants to make sure not to just assume what might be good for you. "Just stay for now, okay?" You ask, snuggling further against him.

The two of you stay cuddled up in bed for a while, with you getting into some, for Francis, very weird positions just to relieve some of the pain. He starts massaging your lower belly at some point, which makes you comfortably rest against him so he can keep going. He figures that this helped your cramps, though you aren't really a big talker right now. He's just glad you aren't getting sappy on him or worse. Francis reminds himself to stop thinking in stereotypes. You fall asleep at some point, and he has half a mind to get a blanket over the two of you while he tries not to fall asleep as well - he feels like he should be awake once you wake up. He wouldn't want to have you have to do something alone when he could be helping you.

The next few hours are mostly you being asleep and Francis drifting off just to jolt awake again. Once you wake up, Francis gets you water and, because you now specifically asked for it, made you a hot water bottle to help the cramps. You put on a movie while he was gone, some romantic one that he knew you had watched at least twice before already. Not like he minded, though. Wasn't his place to judge. He settled beside you again, making sure to carefully place the bottle on you, letting you adjust it yourself. "You alright?" He hums, resting his head against yours. "Obviously not. I'm actively bleeding, Francis." You huff, rolling your eyes playfully as you shift closer to him. "Honestly, though, as good as I could be right now." You then answer, sighing as you close your eyes to bask in your boyfriends presence.

You stay cuddled up like that, watching the movie together. Francis gets up at some point to make both of you a tea, making sure yours is a Green tea after searching for what tea helps with cramps. He's generally just very mindful of you, even offering to run to the store to get you anything you want - which in all honesty almost makes you tear up because he's just too sweet - but you just want him with you, and that's all that counts.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x you #thats not my neighbor #x reader #francis mosses headcanons #francis mosses x reader #milkman that's not my neighbor #milkman x reader

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ooostarwarsfandom501st · 17 days

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Reunion

Hunter x Fem! Jedi reader

Summary: you reunite with your old squad after Order 66...

Warnings: Mild descriptions of injuries, a bit of angst, fluff, happy ending, kissing, Order 66 mentions, I think Hunter deserves his own warning as well ;-)

Hey! This is my first small one-shot on Tumblr. I have been writing a few stories and other things in my life, but it is not something I've done in a while, so it's probably not my best. But please, feel free to leave a comment with some ideas for other one-shots etc. Enjoy!

Kallar.

Worst kriffing planet in your life! Not so much the planet itself, but more the traumatic events that happened there.

Before the war, you were a young Jedi Knight. Your old master, Plo Koon, had supervised most of your training, and you were thriving. At least, until the war came and you were thrown into a big pile of galactic bantha shit.

At first, you served with the 104th battalion along with your old master. You and Commander Wolffe worked well together and things were always a little bit easier, when you did it together.

But after a bit you grew more and more restless, not really having a feeling of being useful - at least, as much as you used to have. You tried pushing those ridiculous thoughts away, but that proved a lot harder than you thought.

Although you loved the Wolfpack who had all become your friends, despite the Jedi Code, you knew it was probably time to move on.

That's when Clone Force 99 came into the picture.

Those boys were everything you loved and longed to be. Diving headfirst into battle with a more or less reckless plan, but somehow always pulling it off. Sometimes, it honestly surprised you how well they worked, considering there were only 4 of them.

Crosshair was the most difficult one to connect with. He didn't really understand the need for a Jedi General, when him and his brothers had always worked alone. You did understand his point of view, but you weren't going anywhere. You loved this squad. It took many rotations, but after a rather difficult mission where you saved his life in a daring manner, he slowly began warming up to you.

Then came Tech. After you got over his ridiculously huge brain, you started paying more attention to his, as his brothers call them, 'info-dumping's' and it turned out that they were actually quite interesting. And when Tech realized that you were paying attention and sometimes even asking him questions, he always found you whenever he had something new to share about the planet you visited, or when you discovered an animal.

Wrecker was the easiest one to connect with. He was a giant with a heart of gold, always making you laugh until you couldn't breathe, always showing some new work out, and always having a blast with you, whenever you blew something up together. Being friends with Wrecker came as naturally as breathing.

And then Hunter.

The dark, mysterious, smoky and broody Sergeant of Clone Force 99. The first time you ever laid eyes one you, you were afraid your heart was giving out. Everything about him was captivating. His eyes telling but a million secrets, his voice sending shivers down your spine despite saying the most regular things, his majestic hair that you one time were allowed to braid because the temperature on Tatooine was unbearable Maker even his scent drove you crazy. When you learned about his enhanced abilities, you instantly knew that he must have heard your raping heart, but by the little smirk he send your way, he seemed to like it.

Although you cared deeply for all the boys, Echo as well when he joined the squad, Hunter was different. Your relationship wasn't labeled or anything. But it definitely wasn't platonic either. Not judging by the looks you always sent each other, or the way you always looked out for each other, touching each other in some small way like fingers brushing against each other, a hand on your back or on his arm. It was something much deeper. And you both knew it was so wrong. If you were caught, it would mean the end. But that didn't exactly stop you.

Not until Kallar.

When the troopers turned on you and Master Billaba, and you were the only one who got away, albeit with a nasty blaster shot to your shoulder, you turned and ran and you didn't look back once.

You heard the news. The Clones killed all the Jedi.

Your world was turned upside down. You thought about your old Master, about your old battalion, but mostly about Clone Force 99. If you faced them, you knew, you wouldn't be able to kill them.

So instead, you ran.

And for a while you hopped from planet to planet, earning credits by doing small jobs here and there. You hid everything. Your lightsaber was safely tucked away on you small ship, and instead you carried a blaster. You changed hair color, clothes and everything else you could, to change your appearance. You were constantly checking over your shoulder, afraid that the Empire would show up. Or worse, Hunter.

And then you met Phee. Completely random on the street, when you were running a job for some wealthy family. You were weary of her first, but then she showed you Pabu and now you owe her your life.

Life on Pabu was something else. Calm, warm, and everyone was so nice. And the best part of it, no one knew how you were. It was perfect.

As you were on your usual morning stroll, you got a comm from Phee, telling you to come to the square and meet her new friends. This wasn't the first time this had happened, and you were excited to see who Phee had met this time.

"Alright Phee, I'm here. Now who are..." you trailed off, freezing in your spot, when your eyes came in contact with the ship that had been your home many rotations ago.

Your brain was working overtime to find the best possible escape route, but it was too late. Four heads turned and starred at you, their eyes wide and mouths open.

"Y/N..." Wrecker was the first to open up, a smile spreading on his lips. But when he took a step forward, you took a step back on instinct and you saw the hurt flashing in his eyes.

"We... we thought, you were dead... is it really you?" He tried again, but you still said nothing.

"Uhh Y/N do you know them?" Phee was obviously confused

"Well obviously she must be rather cautios of us, given the circumstances in which we saw her last. But I believe she looks to be in good health" Albeit a surprised tone, Tech spoke up, adjusting his goggles.

It was too much for you. You were scarred, you couldn't look any of them in the eyes, especially not Hunter. So you turned and ran. Just like you did on Kallar.

Ignoring the calls from behind you.

______________________________________________________________

They couldn't believe their eyes, when they saw you. Hunter had been heartbroken that day on Kallar, and he never thought, he'd ever feel better. Then Omega showed up, and he suddenly had a new purpose in life. But when he saw her standing there on the square... he felt his world turn upside down again.

"Who was that?" Omega asked carefully, making Hunter look at her with soft eyes.

"An old friend who we thought had passed away" Hunter explained, not wanting to go into too much detail right away.

"You should talk to her" Echo nudged him, "We'll go with Omega"

Hunter shot his brother a grateful look and rushed after his cyare.

When he found you on the beach, his heart did a flip. You looked just a beautiful as the last time he saw you. You had changed, yes, but you were still you.

"Y/N please don't run away again" he begged, and when you turned around and finally met his eyes, you had tears in them.

"I- Hunter" was all you said. All you could manage to say. You still kept a small distance.

"I thought, I had lost you. When the regs starting shooting at you and Master Billaba... we are not with the Empire, cyare. I promise" his words were firm, but his voice were shaking.

Carefully, he took a step forward, and you stayed.

"Why did it happen?" You asked, having about a million questions.

"It's a long story, why don't you come back and I'll tell you everything?" he moved closer and closer until finally, he stood right in front of you.

You felt yourself breaking again, tears streaming down your face as you let Hunter embrace you.

"Oh Hunter..." you choked.

"Cyare... I missed you" he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

"I- I missed you too" you spoke, wiping your tears away after calming down.

For the first time you looked at him with love again, smiling softly at him. So much had happened. So much was lost. But now you had finally gained something again.

You didn't waist another second as your lips crashed against Hunter's, who let out a surprised groan, but quickly kissed you back, sneaking his arms around you as your lips moved in sync.

It was everything you and dreamed of for so long. It was perfect.

If possible, you pulled each other even closer and only pulled away to catch your breath, Hunter's forehead leaning against your own.

"Let's go back, I still have a million questions for you and the boys" you whispered, a pleasant smile on your face.

"On one condition" Hunter said, making you raise a brow at him. "No more hiding this. I love you, cyare. Will all my heart"

You didn't think it was possible, but your smile grew and you pecked his lips again.

"I love you too, Hunter. Now let's go back before Wrecker eats all the dinner"

And as you both laughed and bathed in the morning sun, you took his hand and for the first time since forever...

You were truly home.

______________________________________________________________

Okay, this is not my best work, but I still quite like it. Hope you all enjoyed as well <3 Again, feel very free to comment ideas for other one-shots etc. also, which characters you want to see. It can also be other clones or other Star Wars characters<3

Also - I probably wont be writing crazy smut, maybe spicy stuff but not full on crazy haha.

Bye <3

#star wars #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb omega #the bad batch #tbb s3 spoilers #tbb season 3 #tbb tech #clone force 99 #tbb batcher #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x you

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