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alwaysshallow · 2 days

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single mom x price; PART 4

you try to stay away from john. and, surprisingly so, it turns out that it's not an easy job.

AO3 VERSION

part 1 || part 2 || part 3

You know that you usually keep your promises.

When Janice had to leave for a week and asked you to water her flowers religiously three times a day, you didn’t skip any watering. You stood there, cursed multiple times under your breath with a more or less excited kid on your hip, but you did it. Even if your son was a pain in the ass and tried to destroy every little plant that Janice had because watering three times a day was stupid for him.

When Cassie’s mom came to you, telling you she’s pregnant, scared of having kids in her forties, you were the one that drove her to the abortion clinic and promised not to tell anyone. Because she was terrified of doing this alone, not to mention asking someone else.

Information like this in a small town spreads like weeds in the garden, no matter how hard you try, and you knew it too well. So, as her best pick, you tried to take it like a hero.

And you didn’t even flinch when you heard that they thought you were the one that got rid of the baby, not her. You just stared blankly, acting as calm as ever, even if their stares were too much to bear when you shopped, talked with others. Easy enough, they watched you like hawks.

Eventually, it all calmed down, like the weather after the storm. Everyone started living their own lives again, got invested into another drama, forgetting the situation with abortion clinic. And, Cassie’s mom was eternally grateful for that. Probably still is.

You’re known for keeping your promises and getting the job done, so you really can’t be surprised when the neighbors choose you to be responsible for this year’s neighbors BBQ, something that this town is obsessed with, when it gets warmer. Can’t really blame them, as the town is dead during the winter months.

What is surprising in this situation is the fact that you have to break a promise—but the promise that you made to yourself.

Just because you’re in a committee with John Price. John Price that you wanted to desperately avoid for some time, but right now, he’s looking down at you with a smile, patting your back with encouragement.

“We’re gonna have so much fun with this,” he murmurs, right to your ear. It’s nothing naughty, but it’s enough to make your whole body feel hot, like your body is full of lava. He knows you can’t say no to organizing this BBQ, and if you would, he’d find a way to get you back on board.

And, he for sure noticed that you spoke to him less lately. As you learned, he’s not really a fan of that behavior, so when you go home, you have only one thought in your mind: you’re terrible at keeping distance from John Price. It’s either a terrible coincidence, or he has the help of God to make you run into him every time.

Ironically, the second option sounds more real than the first one, even if it should be the other way.

Planning with him feels easy, though. He’s quick to make a whole concept of the party with you, where exactly the BBQ needs to take place, what can be brought so it will be better than the years before. He’s ambitious enough that he makes small jabs towards the neighbors that hosted years before, saying something about not having a sense of style and stuff that shouldn’t make you laugh, but they do.

When it comes to the practical stuff of the job, it’s a bit different; John doesn’t let you touch anything or lift something by yourself, god forbid you try to say that you’re going to help him with moving things. The irritation because of it is enough for you to try to confront him, but he just shushes you. He says something about having “the boys” for that, and you’re not invited to the physical part of the job.

However, you asking him for help? He seems to love the fact that you need him.

When you are trying out the recipes, he’s magically around you. Appears in the most random moments, just to annoy you a little, whisper some encouraging words, like “you got it, love”. He’s more than eager to try out the food, always licking the spoon clean with such focus, like it was a military job, not his neighbor asking him for his opinion on BBQ food. Not only it makes you satisfied, but flustered as well.

Whatever you want to say to him about it, you forget it right away. You’re far too gone in his praises, slight suggestions, and so much more that has you wondering if this man is just nice, or he really means it. Because you truly believe that he does; no one could fake the glimmer in their eyes, lips twitching in a playful manner and this damn look of approval, when you do the right thing. When you think about it, you could easily get used to it if it would mean he’d be around more.

Hell, you never liked cooking that much. It was mostly something to do, so you won’t starve. With John? With John it feels like you want him to admire your food, so you try as thrice as you did in the past.

What is also satisfying in this whole “planning” thing, you’re the commander if it comes down to decorations—you tell him if something needs to go to the left side, if it’s in the right place, or maybe it doesn’t fit the vibe at all. It's good fun for you, a lot of bickering with John, a lot of him actually respecting what you have to say. Sheer contrast to the contact that you normally had with other men, and the dad of your son. Constant problems, give me this, give me that, nothing really came from them. And if it did, you had to ask for it.

And John? John is just the epitome of a perfect man. The kind one that you like seeing on the street because he’s helpful and considerate. Always willing to help you, no matter what the hour is, or what the problem is, like—

Like a real husband, you think, trying to push that thought away the second you see that you’re losing yourself a little too much in it. Just because someone is nice to you, it doesn’t mean that they have a romantic interest in you.

John isn’t helpful with making your thoughts go away; he’s so close to you, like he doesn’t know the meaning of personal space. At some point, you think that he has to do this on purpose. It’s not possible that he’s like this with everyone—so touchy, manhandling every time someone stands in his way, whispering little “I need you to move,” before moving the person somewhere else. It’s unnecessary, you would move if he’d only ask you to do it, but…

But you’d lie if you’d say that you do not like this. Because you do, with all of your heart, even if normally you’d be irritated by behavior like this. But, this is John Price that you talk about. He’s so delicate in this, joking around so much that you don’t even pay attention to the amount of times that he does that.

The closeness doesn’t bother you; not until you realize that a bunch of people are observing you with sharp precision; they’re talking about something too, but it’s clear for you that they are watching the two of you. It’s even more obvious when they gasp right in the moment when John kisses you in the temple, squeezing your hip, silently thanking you for the help. Like you were doing it out of simple kindness, not because you two are responsible for it anyway.

“I’m gonna go,” you murmur under your breath, almost jogging to your house, just so no one will notice the flustered look on your face.

You’re not free of John here either; after an hour, he asks you over the text if you have a minute because he has a sudden epiphany. So, like a good neighbor you are, you stay on the phone with him for another hour, when he tells you how a “kids friendly” zone is needed. Because some parents don’t have a nanny or anyone to leave their kid with; and it seems reasonable.

He makes a monologue about inflatable castles, houses, everything that excites kids.

“I already have a guy to buy it from. I just need your word,” he says. You can almost hear how he smiles on the other side from his tone. “So, what do you say?”

So, even if it seems a bit fancy for your town, you agree, thinking it would be his way of saying a proper “hello” to the neighbors. You even regret that your kid is currently at his grandma's place, as you dropped him a few days before the preparations, because he’d love this idea. More than anything.

Yet, you bet that with John being here, in your neighborhood, he’ll have multiple occasions to do fun things.

The day you have to host BBQ, Price is here for you from the early morning. Making final touches, speaking like a motivational coach because he sees how big of a mess you are; he even helps you to do your hair before you two go outside and start everything properly.

You’re the equivalent of a stress ball, when he’s literally the calmest person alive in the same moment. Water to your fire, easing your nerves in the moments that you’d consider as trivial, extinguishing the heat when you need it. Making you actually feel seen with your feelings, with how he acknowledges them and treats you the best he can in the moment. You feel less dumb for being so nervous, and automatically you feel better as well.

Hours feel like minutes by his side. You greet your neighbors, make small talks about food or their families, asking how they are; you can easily leave any negative thoughts behind you, without caring about your emotions before the BBQ. All you care about is right now, and how John is literally around you at every moment possible—because this man does not leave your side, even if you’re talking with someone that he doesn’t know personally.

“Oh, she’s responsible for all of it,” he says, grinning like a devil, when you talk with the Smiths about the preparations. It’s so easy for him to sneak an arm around you, and you can’t even find in yourself the want to push him away. “I was just Santa’s little helper, ‘s all.”

“Stop that.” You laugh, shaking your head. “He was very helpful, actually. I wouldn’t know what to do without his help.”

“Only on her command.” John shrugs, looking down at you. For some reason, you feel your stomach tightening on the size difference that you two have. “Without her, it probably would look like a brothel. Maybe worse, so she is the real brain of the operation.”

He’s like that all night. Praising you, even if he’s not directly speaking next to you; him pointing a finger in your direction, sending a wink, it all makes you feel like you suddenly have your wings again. Like you can actually do anything with him by your side. He charges your batteries, and you’re thankful for that.

What also charges your batteries is alcohol—normally you wouldn’t be a drinker because of your son, but when you know he’s in your mother’s house, it’s a different situation. Drink goes after a drink when you have lots of food, shots come down your throat way easier with your favorite neighbors. It’s easy to lose yourself in the atmosphere of freedom, when you haven’t had that in a while, too busy, too focused on your son.

Just like you thought, you have your wings again.

You don’t even feel like you’ve gone too far. Not when John accompanies you in the experience, asking if you need another beer, so casually, nudging you with his elbow. Taunting, like he wants to say that you won’t do it anyway. Maybe you wouldn’t, if you weren’t so drunk, but now, when there’s not a single coherent thought in your mind…

Things start to get fuzzy after that beer. You don’t even know when you put the alcohol away in order to dance with Price; you don’t know when his casual touches become something entirely different. It feels like he’s trying to help you, support you, as your legs start to feel more wobbly, but when his hand lands lower, fingers play with the material of your dress—a dress that right now seems like something you’d rather get rid of in the heat of the moment—you feel that something else is in the air.

The “don’t do anything stupid” side is flooded by waves of excitement, by the thought that you feel like you deserve a bit of fun after so many times you told yourself “no”. Maybe that’s why you agree to him walking you to your house, maybe that’s why you invite him over for a little “drink”, to end the success of the neighborhood BBQ that you two “hosted”.

Even if you have enough drinks for a few months, if you’re being honest with yourself.

You really had everything innocent in mind about this. You even came up with the speech about how late it is in your head, but the brakes fail you just in the moment when you stand right in front of him. It’s all happening in slow motion, like a catastrophe that was supposed to happen and everyone knew it from the beginning—but that catastrophe is you kissing him.

He doesn’t say anything, at first. The potential consequences of your actions dawn at you, making you sober up almost immediately, when you see his face. Darkening with every second, making you doubt what you did. Because if it was good, why is he like this?

“I’m so—”

“—Don’t even try.”

And that’s all what he says before kissing you. Kissing you so deep that you forget to breathe for a second, and you just stand still, letting him pick you up like a doll and go upstairs because what can you do about this?

He doesn’t let you do anything by yourself. His lips are everywhere, just like his hands, when he finds the bedroom—you’re already out of your dress and lingerie, but he is fully dressed. You almost want to complain, have a protest that it’s not right, as you waited maybe even more than him for this exact moment, but any word that wants to come out from your mouth is gone when he sinks his finger into you.

It’s slow, at first. Deliberate, making you feel like he’s trying to know you before he does anything more, before he loses himself in you—because that, oh, that happens fast. Faster than you’d thought it would take, but you do not mind that; not in the moment when his two fingers pump into you, while his thumb is taking care of your clit.

The moment his tongue replaces his thumb though, this is the moment when you see stars and all the restraints you had, completely break under the influence of his movement. He knows what he does, how to make you scream, and how to make you beg—because that’s what you want to do, when he suddenly stops.

"John—”

He chuckles, amused. His eyes are glimmering, when he meets yours. "Patience, honey. Patience."

And when you finally come with his name on your lips, you know you have it.

He gives you maybe a fifteen second break—it’s enough for him to strip out of his clothes and pounce at you again; it makes you realize that is the main course you needed from him.

It’s far from casual sex, far from the scenario that you’ve created in your mind. It’s something deeper, as he intertwines fingers with you, insisting that’s the only way you’re gonna do it; and he doesn’t want to hear anything about it. Before you can ask any question, he shushes you with a heated kiss, his hips moving, but at a much slower pace than you expected, like he’s trying to devour the moment. Enjoy it until it lasts, maybe show you something so you’ll miss him in the future.

It’s almost like he wants to prove something here and you let him do it. Because for the first time, it’s nice having someone to take the initiative. Lead you, lure you into the mindset that you need him for that piece of heaven he’s busy to give you. Fixated on that, you plant bloody crescents on his back, not caring about the outcome.

It’s just you and him, at this point. You and him, no one else really matters.

Afterwards, you pay no attention to the fact that he insists on staying. He, in fact, doesn’t say anything; he just states a fact when he puts his big arm around you, squeezing you tight and you just know he won’t leave. You think it’s only right—he’s drunk, after all. It wouldn’t be very neighborly to you to ask him to leave in that state, even if he lives right across the street. And, it wouldn’t be very neighborly to ask him that, considering that he fucked the shit out of you.

Because he'll probably leave in the morning anyway. Everyone leaves before the sunlight, it’s just the way the world is. It was nothing… serious, right?

But, he doesn’t. Oh, of course he doesn’t.

He brings you coffee in the morning, right to your bed, sandwiches on the plate. You can’t quite put it when he had the time to make it, or when he got up—because you’d normally sense someone walking around your house, you’re used to being on high alert. Yet, there is John Price, smiling from ear to ear.

“Your mother called,” John says, which causes your heart to drop immediately. “Said that she’ll drop your son later.”

“...and what did you say?”

“That I’ll tell you this, as soon as you’ll wake up,” he informs you, kissing the top of your head. Like it’s nothing, he sits next to you, pulling out his phone and typing something; as you peek, you can see the news website popping up.

Great. Now even your mother knows about him. It’s not like he is that important right now, but you know your mom a little too well, so it’s easy for you to assume that she’ll make a big thing about him and you’ll have to tell her something to blow her off. And, for now, you’re out of ideas of what exactly you should tell her.

Something other than “it was just casual sex because he’s my hot neighbor”, something other than “I actually don’t know him that well”. Words are spinning in your head; a massive hangover doesn’t help to form anything, so you just nod in acknowledgement, watching him for a moment, bewildered. He acts like he owns this bed, and doesn’t even think of leaving. It’s a potential threat, when you think about it.

You’re not even surprised when you see text from your mother on your phone.

You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.

You decide it’s best not to reply to that, so you just grab the cup of coffee that John made you.

#john price call of duty #john price x reader #john price x you #captain john price x you #captain john price #john price cod #cod x reader #captain price #captain price fanfic #john price #price cod #price x reader #single mom reader #john price smut

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lesbianphan · 1 day

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I know this is gonna be mushy and overly emotional and I'm sorry for oversharing a bit, but I feel like it's necessary to put into words what rewatching We're All Doomed means to me personally. I watched the kiswe premiere event live and it was one of the most fun nights I've had in a while, even though my life felt extremely hopeless at the time.

And, look, here's the thing: when the WAD premiere dropped, I had completely given up on improving things. In fact, I was very much in the 'doomed' mentality. I had long accepted that there was no way my life would get better. So Dan's message really resonated with me: it's easy to settle for being at rock bottom and thinking that's all there is for me. I was happy to see Dan doing better, but deep down I didn't truly believe his words either, not really. I did want to, but I wasn't quite there. And I don't believe them all the time, as he himself said he doesn't, and doing the show many times hammers the point home into his head.

After experiencing it, I thought maybe, just maybe, I could stop only embracing the void, but start having the courage to exist as well. Putting myself out there more, trying to make a world for myself in which I'm not the :/ emoji all the time. So I applied for the jobs, I wrote what I wanted, I unapologetically embraced the nerdy things and the fandoms I enjoyed. I decided I can choose happiness in the smallest of ways, even when it sounds silly and unimportant. Because it isn't unimportant really if it means something to me.

Rewatching the show last night showed me how much it changed my life and the big leaps it helped me take in life. I have so much more to learn, but I keep telling myself to be brave (lmao sorry had to sneak the Phil reference) and have the courage to exist. Really truly exist out in the world, not hidden inside my room. And sure, some days are harder than the others, some days I really don't like myself at all. Even in those days, though, I tell myself: all I have to do is have the courage to exist.

I went in to watch WAD with no expectations, and I feel like the message of appreciating the little moments was so monumental, it truly absolutely had a huge impact in my own life. I have a job now, and some financial stability. To be honest, I never thought I'd get this job, I might not even have applied if I wasn't in this mindset. In so many ways, Dan and Phil have profoundly changed my life, and I think WAD is just one of those big examples.

I doubt the real humans Dan and Phil will ever understand the impact they've had on this world, but I'll forever wish them the best. I'll always support them, because their creations have irrevocably changed me as a person, and as much as I like joking around and stuff, I'm just thankful that we share this existence, and we get to have fun and be forever changed by it.

Thanks @danielhowell, you'll never know how huge the impact of this show was, but I am truly crying writing this and I hope one day I get to tell you in person how much you inspired me to keep going when no one else would.

#obligatory come to Brazil comment so I can meet you Dan #daniel howell #danisnotonfire #(lmao soz)#Dan Howell #We're all doomed #WAD #amazingphil #Phil Lester #Dan and Phil #phan #dnp #sheesh I'm crying now help ahaha #amanda yaps #personal

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volpe-kitsune-red · 2 days

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May I ask your thoughts on a mermaid!yandere?

Hmm, I could have some fun with this! Of course!

Sinking obsession

mermaid!yandere x reader

TW. general yandere behavior, obsessive thoughts, manipulation, reader being hypnotized, drowning, blood

mermaid!yandere would have first noticed you during one of your frequent visits to her beach. At first, she was enthralled by your beauty, the way your hair moved when hit with the sea's breeze, your walk, your smile. She had silently observed many other attractive humans, so you didn't stick out as anything special...at first.

When mermaid!yandere heard your voice for the first time, it was as if you had put a chain around her neck, forcing her to dare float closer to better taste those pleasant sounds, only to strengthen the spell you had put on her. She was enamored, every word you spoke was a divine blessing, better than anything Poseidon could offer. The moment you walked too far and the sound stopped, she felt robbed, empty. From that moment forward every sound felt bland, boring, even her own voice she had once deemed her most renowned quality, was nothing compared to what you had shown her.

mermaid!yandere waited and craved for your next visit. Fortunately, it wasn't long before you were back. As soon as you were alone, she took that opportunity to approach you. You couldn't see her as she was hidden behind a cliff, she said you had caught her eye and wanted to approach you but she felt too embarrassed to show herself. You believed her and your conversation felt as if it lasted hours, she was easy to talk to, matter of fact, she always insisted that you kept speaking to her, to not stop even when the conversation started feeling one-sided.

Before you could leave, mermaid!yandere made sure to use her own voice to charm you into coming back to her every day, she considered it as returning the favor. The only difference was that her voice had actual power, with a song she could easily convince a man to drown himself. But she would never do that to you, after all, human voices become defective when under water.

You started to meet with the mysterious woman once per day. Then every morning and every night. Eventually, you felt compelled to go every time you had a spare moment in your life. You began falling asleep on the beach, next to her cliff, leaving only for work so you could afford to buy food and eat next to her. Nothing else mattered, only her.

When mermaid!yandere finally showed herself to you it was too late, even if you still had enough free will to snap out of her encantation and run away, you couldn't. She had you trapped in her arms, slowly dragging you away further into the vast sea.

"Calm yourself, darling, don't move a muscle, I'll have you taken care of. We'll never, ever need to be apart again. I'll have you sing for me for the rest of your life, there won't be a moment where the wind won't be carrying your sweet melodies for all of the sea to hear."

Fortunately for you, you won't have enough will left to complain or care when your vocal cords start bleeding after the first month.

#yandere blog #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere female #yandere mermaid #mermaid #female yandere x you #female yandere x reader #female yandere #anon ask #anon request #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere thoughts #tw yandere

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cinewhore · 2 days

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The Duchess of London (2)

Pairing: Thomas “Tommy” Shelby x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: angst, mentions of drinking, drugs, blood, gore, fighting, guns, fluff.

A/N: Wrote the first part damn near a year ago! Wanted to finally finish it off. Please know that another part is highly unlikely! No beta. Enjoy! Credits to the gif artist.

Thomas Shelby ends up on your doorstep three months later.

Technically, it was the door of the Gentlemen’s Club, Adonis, where you helped to manage the talent and had a few stocks invested in.

If you hadn’t been paying attention, you would’ve missed him entirely. Tommy remained seated in the back of the room near the door, one leg crossed over the other, fingers delicately grasping the rim of a glass. It was a talent of his, being able to blend into a room seamlessly while still maintaining a sense of distinctiveness. You couldn’t lie, the thought of seeing him again taunted you day after day. Thinking about his plump lips on yours, hands pressing against your neck-

A throat clears. “I believe it’s your turn, Duchess.”

You blink a few times, returning to the present. Sir Donald Chesnut fixes you with a stare, pool stick tapping the floor impatiently.

Giving him your best innocent smile, you nod and saunter around the table. There were two of his stripes left compared to your four solids. The men who gathered to “watch” all gawked as you bent over the velvet lined table, dress straining against your backside. You’re sure to milk their attention for all its worth, a teeny frown sprawling across your face as you stand back up.

“Must I repeat the rules of the game for you, miss? See those colored balls? You have to hit them into the holes. Do you understand?” Donald taunts, voice barely masking his mockery.

You smile and shrug. “Gee, I just can’t seem to decide which one to hit, they’re all so pretty!”

A few in the audience chuckle at the perceived naivete. Thomas takes a swig of his drink, watching your hands carefully.

“Let me assist you then.”

Donald pushes up against you, hands helping to position yours correctly. Upon steading them, you attempt to hit one of your balls but fail to do so. You jerk back into him as you laugh, hands fanning at your cleavage.

“I’m not even sure how I got the other balls in, must be a lady’s luck.” you comment.

“Sure.” Donald nods, already gearing up for his next shot. He sinks his two remaining balls with ease but misses the eight ball by a hair.

“Oh! You almost had it. Maybe I can catch up.”

“Good luck.” Donald tuts, hands grazing your ass as he passes behind you.

The act drops immediately and you get to work cleaning up the table. The balls clinking against each other before they sink into the pockets fills you with such pleasure you fight hard to maintain your poker face.

The eight ball lays just a few inches away from the right corner pocket, albeit at an odd angle. If you weren’t careful, it was an easy shot to miss and you didn’t want to give this fucker a chance to win. That didn’t mean you couldn’t have a little fun with your prey.

“Are you gonna call it?” Donald asks.

“Eight ball, middle right pocket.

Donald huffs out something that sounded like a mix between a snort and a sigh. “No fuckin’ way. You can’t make that!”

You don’t take your eyes off of him as you station yourself off center to the ball, cocking the pool stick until the weight of the wood feels comfortable in your hands. Sucking in a small breath, you let the stick slip through your fingers as you exhale. You could feel everyone else in the room hold their own collective breath as the ball pings around the table, making haphazard patterns until it slowly nears the pocket.

The eight ball all but comes to a complete stop before it finally drops into the pocket, the white ball close behind. You refuse to move, afraid that any sudden shift could cause the other ball to fall in behind it.

The ball edges you as it nears the pocket but you release a sigh of relief as it comes to a halt. You don't dare celebrate openly, just smile and wink at Donald, who was turning more red by the minute. Murmurs fly and papers shuffle as the men protest about their lost money.

Thomas finally approaches you as the others file out of the room, for sure in search of ways to better their bruised egos.

You don’t pay him any mind as you rack the balls up.

“You look like a professional.”

“You can too. Would you like to learn how to play?”

Tommy shakes his head. “No, I don’t think I can keep steady hands.”

You hum in response, eyes shifting up to meet his. “That’s unfortunate.”

He is quiet as he comes to stand in front of you, hands reaching up to brush against your cheek. “Is there someplace we can talk?”

You pour Tommy another glass of whiskey before settling on the plush cushions next to him. The office space you acquired wasn’t as glamorous as you’d hoped it’d be but it provided a sense of solace where you could conduct business without hosting unwanted people in your home.

“So, is this a visit for pleasure or business? Perhaps both?”

Tommy knocks back his drink, throat bobbing as the cool liquor coats his mouth. “Marry me.”

You sputter out a laugh, shaking your head. “Pardon me?”

“I need you to marry me.”

“No,” you hold out a hand to stop him as you notice that he’s reaching into his coat pocket. “Have you gone fucking mad?”

“I need to form an alliance with the Elephants and this is the best way in.”

He fixes you with that stare and for a moment you’re sucked into his abyss, thinking about the possibility of becoming Mrs. Thomas Shelby but as quickly as the thought comes, it fades. This wasn’t your fight and you found it hardly fair that you were being used as some sort of pawn. You were familiar with his antics and knew that anyone being used by the Shelby clan typically resulted in death. As it so happens, you were pretty fond of your life at the moment.

You stand up from your seat abruptly, pacing back and forth. “I can’t marry you, Tommy.”

“I know it’s not an ideal proposal but you’ll have full control over the wedding details-”

Stopping mid pace, you turn to face your childhood friend. “What, did the war fuck with your hearing? I said I won’t marry you.”

Tommy drops his head, reaching back inside his pockets in search of a cigarette. He gets up to lurk near you, admiring the sour look on your face. “Is this how Marcus turned you down, eh?”

You swallow thickly, resisting to meet his gaze. Of course he knew about Marcus, he knew about everything and then some. The all knowing Shelby’s with their endless amount of dirt, ready to throw it on anyone who stood in their way.

“I don’t know to whom you are referring.” you lie, terribly so. Tommy could hear the pained yearning in your voice.

“Marcus Toussaint, old money from the Toussaints of France. Made their fortune from coal. He’s the youngest of four brothers, the only eligible bachelor left. You two met in Egypt, he was financing an archeological dig and you were there on holiday. Nights spent filled with mutual lust and passion, I assume. He buys you an estate in the Mediterranean, where you spend the majority of the summer.”

Your eyes slip close at the mention of Egypt, a time where you felt you could truly be yourself and not be on guard all the time. Marcus was delicate, thoughtful. He never questioned you about your past and was very encouraging about you wanting to pursue artistic hobbies. He was the one who taught you how to play pool.

“Unfortunately, your summer was cut short when he was forced to return home and he decided to take you with him. He wanted to make you a part of the family but they knew all about you and decided that a two dollar whore from the slums of Brimingham who made her living spending long nights in the beds of men she did not know was not good enough for Marcus. You try so hard to fit in with that crowd, prancing around in your fancy gowns with your nose held up so high that you still can’t smell the shit on your shoe you’re tracking into their houses.”

A rage you had learned to smother was bubbling beneath the brim of your being, a feeling you had never thought would be directed toward Tommy. You knew what he was doing, plunging a knife so deep into your heart and twisting until he got what he wanted out of you. It was all a mistake. You have been used over and over all your life. You were not going to be used by him, even if it cost you your life.

You lick your lips which have since gone dry, forcing your face to return to stone. “It’s always a delight to see you, Mr. Shelby. Travel safely.”

With that, you turn on your heels and exit the room in silent fury. A pair of observant eyes watch you from the stairs above, then switch to regard the back of Tommy as he leaves a few minutes after you.

You normally spent most nights at the club but decided it’s worth it to leave and blow steam off at home, your head a jumbled mess. Everything Tommy said was true but what he didn’t know is that Marcus had told you his family made prior preparations for him to marry the daughter of a tycoon and that he had no say in the matter. You were silly enough to believe him.

You were so caught up in what had just occurred that you hadn’t noticed you were being followed until a hand clamps over your mouth, a black hood shoved over your head.

Tommy watches absent-mindedly as the young woman slips back into her dress, dancing leisurely to the music coming out of the bar a few blocks down. The window was cracked and she was thankful, having put up with enough of Tommy’s smoking. He was on his third cigarette since they finished fucking and she was sure by the time she actually left, he would have finished half the pack.

There’s a knock at the door and the woman stops to look at Thomas expectantly. He doesn’t move an inch but jerks his head near the sound. The woman is cautious as she opens it but cracks the door wider when it’s revealed to be a bellhop.

“Delivery for 317.”

The woman grabs the silver covered platter and thanks the boy. She smiles as she brings it over to Thomas.

“Did you order me something special?”

“No.”

His bluntness doesn’t deter her, she simply shrugs and searches the vanity for her earrings. Tommy takes the lid off to uncover a note folded in half.

The Royale. 8pm.

The hood is snatched off unceremoniously and suddenly you’re in the storage room of a butcher shop, in a chair with your hands tied behind your back. Some of the girls you used to run with when you were younger surround you, with Bobbi aka Big Red at the center.

You give your best smile. “Ladies, are we starting a sewing circle? Book club? I hear Agatha’s new mystery is to die for.”

The first punch comes from Janie on your left. You rock your jaw, hands straining against the rope. “I take it that you didn’t like the novel.”

The second one is from Georgiana. The bitch. To think you were there for her when she found out her husband was screwing her sister.

After the fourth punch, this one to your gut, you were beginning to get fed up.

“Alright, does someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“You’ve gotten too big for your britches, that’s what.” Big Red finally speaks up. She took over operations when the leader you knew, Mary, got locked up. Operations almost went to shit but you had to hand it to her, Bobbi knew how to run a tight ship. She wasn’t as popular with the women and laid down stricter rules. Several of which you had broken.

“I don’t have time for riddles, Bobbi.” you chide.

Bobbi snaps her finger and Georgiana brings a chair over so that Bobbi could sit in front of you. “I’ve been watching you for a while now, missy. When Mary put me in charge, I swore I’d keep her seat warm until she got out.”

You tsk. “Last I checked, you squeezed your fat ass in her chair.”

That earned you a hard punch. You needed to dial it back if you wanted to keep your face intact.

“You’ve been fucking one of the Shelby’s.” Janie purrs, popping her gum obnoxiously.

“Not just any Shelby, Thomas Shelby.” Georgiana tacks on.

Big Red makes a motion with her fingers and the clucking chickens get quiet, always obedient for their mother hen. “You know fraternizing with a family like theirs is off limits. Do you know what could happen to us if you were caught with him? We struck a decent deal with Sabini and the last thing I need is for you to jeopardize everything we’ve worked for because you wanted to get your cunt licked.”

You knew that a few girls were messing around with some men who worked for Sabini but you didn’t realize it had gotten so deep. Outside of Thomas and his boys in Birmingham, Sabini had the next biggest family in the area with a huge control over land. It wasn’t like anyone was stealing from them but nothing hurt men more than a broken heart and bruised ego.

“Well, since you like spreading your legs for dirty men like Thomas, poppet, you’re gonna do us a huge favor and use that pretty little face of yours to sway him into staying another night in London. Get him to this location,” Bobbi stuffs a slip of paper down your bra. “We’ll handle the rest.”

Big Red puts your cheek tenderly before snapping her fingers. Georgiana and Janie descend on you like vultures and the only sound echoing through the room is muffled grunts of you getting your ass kicked.

Thomas flips out his pocket watch once more.

8:22pm.

It was unlike you to be late but he figured it was for good reasons. Women and their unnecessary grooming. Growing up around Ada and practically being raised by Polly got him used to being late for certain functions. The waiter enters again and Tommy is ready to refuse another offer on refilling his glass but stops once he sees that you’re being escorted in.

You were mesmerizing. Your body was wrapped in red silk, the material caressing your figure in all the right places. White gloves covered your arms up to your elbows and the front of your dress drapes downward in a cowl design, showing a sufficient amount of cleavage to leave the wandering eye wanting more. To complete your ensemble, you wore a tilted hat with a veil to cover the majority of your face.

Thomas is a gentleman as he stands while you enter, only returning to his seat once you sit on your own.

“You’re late.”

You cock an eyebrow. “And yet, you’re still here.”

As if the waiter was eagerly awaiting for you to take your seat, you barely have time to set down your purse before the first course is brought out. It looked decadent but your stomach was still rolling from earlier. You weren’t sure when your appetite would return.

Thomas doesn’t touch his food either. “So, I take it you’ve changed your mind.”

You take a long sip of wine, swishing the red liquid around the glass before knocking the rest of it back. “Something like that.”

The cigarette makes an appearance. He lights it, waiting for you to continue.

“Look at us. Both came from nothing and here we are. Eating at the finest restaurants, wearing the finest clothes, sitting at tables that otherwise we would’ve been shooed from. And for what? Money?”

Thommy nods, almost as if you’d ask a rhetorical question. “Yes. Money, power, control. I’m taking care of my family just like you would take care of yours.”

“I have no family.” you state, voice a whisper.

“That’s why I’m asking you to be a part of mine.”

The door to the private room swings open and the waiter appears, yet again.

“For fucks sake!” Tommy yells at the poor fellow.

“My apologies, Mr. Shelby but your other guests have arrived.”

Tommy steals a quick glance at you. “I don’t have any other guests.”

You don’t dare turn around in your seat as the echo of numerous footsteps sound off, trailing from the hallway until they reach the dining area.

“Well, well. Looks like the gang's all here.”

The voice sends a chill down your spine. Amelio Sabini. He wasn’t head honcho but far enough up on the food chain for it to mean something.

Tommy clears his throat and puts out his cigarette. He doesn’t stand.

“What? No warm greeting for me or my brothers? Alright then.”

The vultures descend on the table, squeezing in where they could and kicking their feet up. You recognize some of the women on their arms from the club.

“Amelio. You’re interrupting my dinner.”

“Really? Cause if I remember correctly, we were invited. I know you didn’t start eating without me, Tommy. That’s bad business.”

“What’s bad business is discussing it in front of the women. You lot,” he points to the scantily clad girls. “Out.”

The girls all cling to their men, throwing each other nervous glances. You envied them just a little. To be pretty and clueless. It wouldn’t get them very far though.

Amelio gives a signal and they suck their teeth, sulking back out into the main part of the restaurant. You attempt to walk out with them but a goon keeps you firmly in your chair.

“Where are you heading off to, puddin’? You’re the main dish.”

“I take it you’re acquainted?” Tommy asks but you hear the condescending tone laced in the question.

“She’s the one that invited us. Knows the Royale is my favorite. Have you tried the raspberry and chocolate souffle?” Amelio gives a chef's kiss. “Eccellente!”

The men squabble as you mildly disassociate, understanding that this was going to end in one of two ways: you live or you die. And if you did die, Big Red was gonna get what’s coming to her, that’s for damn sure.

Your small break from reality is abruptly ended when the cold metal of a pistol is shoved into your hands.

Your hands graze the gun, a once familiar object now feeling foreign.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Amelio coos. “Let’s not draw this out any longer, eh? We all know how this ends. I don’t want to draw this out any further. Va bene?”

You nod your head slowly, steadying your grip on the weapon. You aim the gun directly at Tommy, unblinking. “Sorry it had to happen this way.”

Tommy gives a half shrug. “Likewise.”

You’re quick to pull the trigger and watch as the bullet whizzes by Tommy’s head and glides straight into the neck of the waiter. The platter in his hands falls, the Beretta masked as the “souffle” tumbling to the ground.

And just like that, the room cascades into a full out battle. Tommy wastes no time in grabbing his own gun and you throw yourself into the heat of action, taking out two more of Amelio’s men before you get clipped in the left arm. You throw yourself down on the ground in search of cover.

Arthur and the other Blinders crowd in from the kitchen, helping Tommy to clear out the room. Finn is careful as he drags you towards the back door, where a car is waiting.

“We can’t just leave them there!” you scream through the searing pain.

“They’ll be fine, trust me!”

Before you could argue your point further, the doors to the car get slammed shut and you’re whisked away from the scene.

Making it back to a small office Tommy owned was nothing short of a miracle. You had never seen or been a part of such a gunfight. However, it wasn’t the shooting that pissed you off.

“I know this was your idea.” you murmur, wincing as Tommy pours more alcohol in your wound.

“I told Big Red to persuade you, didn’t know that meant leaving you with a bruised eye.” Tommy says, double checking to make sure he cleaned the graze thoroughly.

You shake your head. “She’s got it out for me, apparently. You could’ve just asked-”

“I did ask you. This was reassurance.”

You pull away from his touch, a disapproving look etched into your face. “It’s like you don’t even trust me! We’re cut from the same cloth, remember?”

Tommy puts away the whiskey, reaching around you to grab at the gauze. He wraps it around your arm tenderly. Satisfied with his work, he takes a pack of smokes out of his pocket, tucking one between his lips.

He saddles up to where you’re perched on his desk, spreading your legs to stand between them.

“I never doubted you once. There were things that needed to be in place and I wanted to make sure it happened.”

The deep pools of his eyes drag you under and once again, you find yourself pulled into his orbit. No matter how hard your gut alerts you to the dangers of falling in love with Thomas Shelby, you ignore the blaring alarms and steel yourself. He wasn’t like the others, happy to parade you around on their arm like some sort of trophy. You had a mind, a working spirit that was hard to break and a reputation to uphold. You didn’t want to be the dainty, seen but not heard wife.

You wanted to be his equal.

Plucking the cigarette from his lips, you take a quick puff from it, exhaling slowly. “I should go.”

“I’ve arranged for John to take you to the hotel. We didn’t have much time to grab clothing from your place but I can have Pol take you shopping tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“You got me a room?”

Tommy chuckles slightly at the question, demeanor unwavering as he takes a small metal item from his pocket, flipping it in-between his fingers like you’ve seen him do many times before with a coin.

“I got us a suite.”

You stare at the key, understanding that it signified much more than a cozy night in. Accepting this key and going to see him meant that you were tethering yourself to a man you swore was just casual. You weren’t sure if you were ready for that level of commitment.

He pries your hand open, setting the room key in it before closing it gently. Nearly forgetting how to breathe, your eyes flutter close as Tommy seals the deal with a kiss.

He runs a lone finger down your cheek, his own lips plump with the sheen of your affections.

“My proposal still stands.”

Tommy says nothing else as he exits the office, doors groaning in protest at his departure. You open up your hand again. Would you still remain the Duchess or become a Queen?

#thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x fem!reader #Thomas Shelby x female reader #fic: the Duchess of london #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x fem!reader #Thomas Shelby x you #peaky blinders fanfiction

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sturn3 · 3 days

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Hey could you write a Matt smut of the song: I like the way you kiss me?

you and matt had broken up 2 years ago. you were so sick of his playboy and nonchalant attitude. if he couldn't give you what you were asking for ,then you didn't wanna beg for it. you couldn't help but miss him, though. whenever he did act right, you had so much fun. too much fun, you couldn't find anyone else to match up your energy like he did. so, that's what brought you here, to his favorite place to hang out, it was a chill jazz bar in downtown LA. the low lights and the relaxing sound of jazz putting you at ease, you were also on your second glass of red wine. your red lipstick kinda smudged, your hair touching your lower back covering what the dress didn't, your slightly muscular back and the tattoo that occupied your spine.

you hadn't noticed him yet, but he was standing behind you. looking at you from afar. admiring you. you looked so mature now, more experienced. you had grown your hair out, you had gotten more tattoos, tan, gold jewelry adorned your skin and your style had changed. he thought he didn't have to lose anything, so he approached you. coming down to whisper in your ear "miss me?" ,without turning your back, you knew who that was. the same cologne, that haunted you since you met him. bringing you back to a time where you had to scrub yourself aggressively to get rid of his scent on your body, cause it was too overwhelming, too dangerous. you couldn't bear to find yourself sniffing it. finally, you turned around, taking all of him in. he had changed too. he wasn't the 19 year old teenage boy you knew him to be ,anymore. he had also grown. (and hopefully changed)

"as if!" you scoffed and brought your drink to your lips to take a sip again, his eyes immediately taking in your lips. taking him back to a time where he knew exactly how they felt. he couldn't help but grin, putting his big hand dangerously low on your back, you couldn't help but feel giddy inside. "hands off, matthew." his hand slid off immediately. both hands up in surrender as he flashed you a smirk. god, you hated his stupid smirk. you hated how good he looked. yeah, you most certainly didn't hate him.

he kept the conversation going. asking about your little sister. how things were at work. "so, how are your brothers? i miss them everyday." you laughed, "oh, does that mean you've missed me too?" you shook your head laughing, and slapped his chest "never that." you missed how easy it was with him. conversation flew so well. especially now that you were both tipsy. "well, that looks bad for me. cause i did miss you." and of course as the words left his mouth you couldn't help but giggle, you also couldn't help but feel the burning desire to kiss him. so ,you did that. catching him completely off guard. one hand falling to sit on your neck and the other one pressed on your hip, he finally pulled off and brought his lips close to your ear, "i like the way you kiss me. i can tell you miss me."

the night brought you back to your apartment, desperately making out against the door while trying to also open it. finally, you stumbled inside, never separating from the kiss. at this point, you had had so much to drink, you couldn't find yourself to care about anything other than the feeling of his lips. you guys quickly find your way to your bedroom, beginning to undress one another with so much need. you go to lay on your bed, him getting on top of you, kissing your shoulders, your neck and then going to kiss your lips once again. you obviously kiss back, biting it as he lets out a moan at the slight pain. getting more and more aroused by your actions. his hands finding their way to your core, starting by assaulting your clit before his fingers found their way inside you. knowing exactly how to work them to get you going. it was always easy for him to make you fall apart for him.

one thing he always did was deny you of your orgasm. making you beg for it, which was worthy it. but that's not what he was doing today. you felt him grab you by your waist and turn you around "not trynna be romantic, i'll hit it from the back just so you don't get attached." he said letting out a moan as he slid inside of you. your knees almost giving out every time he pushed in and out of you. it was all too much. "you take the heat with such grace ,baby." he said as he tugged on your hair that was wrapped around his fist. "you wanna make me proud? yeah? cause i'm so proud of you baby" your moans and your screaming grew louder. his words grew filthier. and your orgasm grew to it's peak. both of your juices dripping down your thighs and onto your white sheets. he couldn't help but be mesmerized by it.

"we're done" you say but you're still there. "i'm scared you'll let me down."

"just stick around and you'll find out."

nothing was guaranteed with him.

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader

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artificialbreezy · 2 days

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Can you imagine not being touched by a man for a long time, then being on tour with the band and somehow falling in bed with Matt, being si reactive to his touch, not lastong for long? He would be so cocky about that😮‍💨

i got a lil carried away with this one so sorry🤷🏻‍♀️

CW: rambling really, poorly written ending

ya know, i feel like Matt is super cocky anyways. so like maybe when Noah brings you to a get together before tour so you can meet everyone, Matt’s instantly smitten and he’s telling anyone who listens that he will have you by the end of the tour. word does get back to you and you’re like no. absolutely not. so you kinda end up avoiding him because yeah you may think he’s gorgeous and yeah sometimes you think about him when youre alone in your bunk and yeah maybe you do wanna know if he’s all talk but he will never know that, you don’t want him to think you’re easy. he’s gotta work for it if he REALLY wants you. you’re not about the fuck buddy life.

maybe it starts to build up after a show one night, you guys have the next day off so why not stay up and drink and hang out. what you absolutely don’t expect is some of the questions to be so personal. it was never in the plan to share how you haven’t had a good lay in months. and you sure as hell didn’t expect to be in Matt’s bed by the end of the night with him “showing you what a good lay really is”. Matt catches everything, he notices the little things. so he notices the way your breath hitches when his hand runs up your thigh and the way your body erupts with goosebumps when his mouth is on your neck. but his favorite? is the way you whine when he’s teasing you.

it starts with a soft whine when he runs his finger between your folds. it turns into a needy whine when he teases your entrance, not enough that he’s inside but just enough you feel him. remember when i said he’s cocky? he’d smirk at you and just say “baby you gotta be patient, gotta get you stretched out first. don’t think you can handle my cock yet.” he really just wants you needy, whining for him to do something. he needs you to crave him, he wants you to think about him a month from now and how good he made you feel.

but oh my god, when he finally does push his cock into you? he thinks he could blow just from the sound you made. he’s gonna start slow, wants to give you a little at a time. just to adjust. what he didn’t expect was for your eyes to be filling with tears and you to say, “please Matt, just wanna feel you. don’t care if it hurts. want it to hurt please just please.” it’d take everything in him not to explode right then and there but i think hed start to pull himself out just to hear you whine again. he’d chuckle and then thrust back in.

the next day when you walk into the common area where the rest of the crew and band are, everyone immediately notices your limp and Matt’s smirk when he watches you move. no one says anything at first, until Bryan speaks up, “i’m so glad you two had fun but now i need to cut my ears off.”

#matt dierkes headcannon #matt dierkes smut #matt dierkes x reader #matt dierkes #matt dierkes blurb #bad omens smut #bad omens blurb #bad omens headcanons

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twothpaste · 2 days

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m3 laugh headcanons 🤣🤸‍♂️

Duster laughs quietly, and tends to cover his mouth when he does it. It's a gravelly rattly sorta sound. If somethin truly tickles his funnybone, he'll slap his knee and have a hearty chortle about it - but will probably apologize after the fact. :') :'(

Kumatora has a big harsh raucous cackle that always sounds a little mean, even when it's in harmless good fun. She likes to bang tables, sock shoulders, maybe grab a nearby friend and jostle 'em around a little while she's at it. She also snorts between laughs. (Lucas unwittingly starts doing this too, after hangin around her long enough.)

Lucas hums friendly gently amused little laughs often in conversation. Since he's so goshdarn earnest, and never laughs at anyone else's expense, his slight chuckles tend to lighten moods and ease tensions. It's actually rare for him to really crack up, but on those special occasions, he'll clutch his sides and laugh himself to tears.

Claus has two laughs. One of em's a smirkish little "heheh" snicker (which he thinks is very cool and collected). The other's an embarrassingly genuine guffaw, it's tacky and kiddish and oafish, it bursts out of him whenever he finds something truly hilarious. (Claus' goofus dumbass laugh is Lucas' favorite sound in the world.)

Flint only laughs in the very rare case he thinks something's Especially Funny. In such cases he explodes like a bomb and smacks his knees and spends the next 60 seconds wheezing and wiping the tears from his eyes. This doesn't happen often nowadays, but Hinawa could get his goat practically on command.

Hinawa had a silly goofy bright bubbly giggle that invoked PBS kids cartoon characters, and drawings of the sun with a big smiley face on it. It was very easy to crack her up, and once she started laughing, it was very hard to get her to stop.

#2thtalks #mother 3

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neet-elite · 2 days

Text

↳ EVENT 05. Sebastian (Yandere)

Pairing: Sebastian / F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 2,241 Warnings: yandere, blood play, knife play, pet name (bunny), implied self harm (not depicted!!!), blood drinking, dacryphilia Prompt(s): 18 — yandere Wanna take part in the event?: CLICK HERE!!

A/N: the bread and butter sebastian... tbh i think the yandere trope fits him so well. loner in the mountains? always fun to write sebastian being a bastard tysm for sending this prompt in !! mwah!!

All you had to do was follow some simple instructions. They're not even that hard to follow, made intentionally dumb for his pretty baby to understand. And only thee of them too! Isn't he kind? He doesn't expect much from you, because you're already perfect in his heart eyes. Three rules, that's all. Just keep quiet. Stay put. Don't try and open the door. And deep down, Sebastian knows that you're good. Such a good girl, aren't you? The idea that you'd be intentionally trying to disobey and attempting to leave him isn't even worth entertaining— because there's a much more understandable reason behind your mistrust, isn't there?

Plainly put, he imagines that you're trying to provoke him only to see if he's being serious about his love for you. Metaphorically poking the bear just to feel the sharp sting of its teeth on your neck, a sure reminder of his affections for you. And in that respect, he can understand why the locked basement door handle was jiggling around in spite of his clear cut rules, frantic in how even the wood shook against itself. In your quest for seeking his attention, you've in turn reminded him to buy more locks. See, you really are such a good girl, aren't you?

Walking down each step one at a time, he listens to the way the door slowly starts to stop squeaking. Every step down the sound of the handle grows quieter, softer, as if his presence alone was enough to whip you back into shape. Which is preferable, in all honesty. And so he finds himself smiling from ear to ear in pride as he gets to the door, pressing the side of his face to it to listen to you scurry around, waiting until you've eventually settled on some place to sit before digging the room key out of his back pocket to unlock the door.

"Bunny?" He affectionately calls out to you once he enters, quickly scanning the room before easily finding your fearful gaze. And oh how you wear fear well, how those big wide eyes look like pleading to him, especially as he takes a few steps forward only to close the door behind him, turning his back to you briefly to lock it again. Something he hates doing, y'know? Taking his eyes off of you for even a second— if he had it his way, you'd be glued to his hip. But he understands how impractical that would be, and so settles for captivity. "Did you need something?" He questions, tone sickeningly sweet in how fake he's being right now.

One step forward, and he watches as you cower from him on the bed. Another few steps forward, and he's privy to the sight of you huddling under his bed sheets, panic stricken expression going straight to his perverted cock from how cute you look when trying to hide from him. And then; how he hears you audibly gasp when he next speaks. Are you a little scared, bunny? It's okay, he won't be as savage as the bear. Because despite needing to punish you for misbehaving, he's doing so under the impression that you're asking for it. Going against his rather easy to follow rules in hopes of having him enact penalisation.

"Because, I seem to remember telling you not to leave this room, right?" He smiles when he reaches the edge of the bed, taking the opportunity to sit beside you as you remain stuck in place. Frozen in fear, which his cock likes very much so. Burning with greed right in the pit of his stomach, how it rises to tighten around his lungs when all you do is stare back at him. Cute, he thinks. So fucking cute when you're so scared, his fingers straining with want to pet your pretty little head.

For he's not stupid. He can read between the lines, see through your little victim act. Because he only ever wants what's best for you, remember? Which is why there are rules in the first place— it's all just to help you be as happy and as comfortable as possible, meaning he has to always keep an eye on you. Ah, just you wait till he tells you about the hidden camera surrounding his room, too! Allowing him to watch your every move even when he has to unfortunately leave the house, or even just to the kitchen. You need protection, and given your stunt over trying to knock the locked door down, he's convinced that you're just testing his limits. Wanting him to prove to you that he'll be at your beck and call— from anywhere. Even from within your own new four walls. Home.

A tut soon escapes him, but it's half hearted at best. It's difficult to be upset at your lack of verbal communication when you look so sweet when silent, and he considers himself an expert at understanding you regardless of whether you talk or not. Your silence, in his mind, is proof of such fact, and he takes a moment to consider your wants and needs. Head cocked to the side in thought, not attempting to get any closer to you in favour of simply thinking. Like watching an animal at the zoo, wondering what it must be thinking about.

"Ah, I know." He states apathetically, suddenly standing from his seated position and smiling warmly down at you when you jump back in fright. He's studied you for a while now, y'know. Creeping behind bushes, stalking late at night outside your bedroom window— your sleeping face is so pretty, God, the amount of times he's stroked himself silly to the sight, fogged up your thin windows like a bitch in heat. But now that he's finally got you in his room, tucked away under his bed sheets, locked safe and sound, he thinks you've never been prettier. In part because you suit the look of absolute despair as he walks towards his computer desk, digging through one of the old drawers to bring out a shiny item for you. A gift, if you will. A promise of his obsessive love, and how he'll never stop, even if you keep trying to escape. He'll happily prove himself to you over and over again if that's what it takes!

Lust pools in his tummy at the look you give him upon shining the knife in the dim light of his basement room. Barely held in his hand, spinning the item around a few times to inspect the sharpness. Could it be cleaned? Probably, but his cock twitches at the thought of sharing blood with you, even just a minimal amount. He always washes it after use, and accidentally making you sick by way of an unclean blade only gets him more excited. Instinctive cravings rolling down his spine at the thought of having you rely on him even more than you've already been forced to, shaking in his steps as he once again returns to the bed; only this time he follows your movements as you shuffle away from him and onto the corner of the sheets, prompting him to reach out to tightly grab at your arm so you can escape no further.

Maybe he's holding you a bit too tightly, but the tears that well in your eyes as your gaze flicks between his wide smile and the knife only serve to turn him on some more, tent in his pants just for you, oh you pretty thing, he's so hard because of how cute you are! Isn't this what you wanted? Isn't that what love is? A little pain for a lot of gain. Knife in hand, inching his body closer to your own and adjusting his grip until he's right before you, leaking precum all over himself to the way your eyes drop to his needy cock more than once.

He was right, you are after him, aren't you?

Lifting the knife to right in front of your face, unable to stop his smile from growing at the way you shield your view from it, he tells you a little secret. Letting you know exactly how he plans on showing his love for you, because you deserve some warning for letting him indulge like this. That, and his cock practically begs to scare you some more, to watch those tears roll over and stain your red cheeks in selfish satisfaction. Perverted gratification, would that he could start petting at his fat bulge before you, but you still need to be taught some bedside manners. Such as;

"Stay still." He says calmly, flipping your arm around with ease so as to have access to the inner side, locking his fist around your snappable wrist without much care.

"Wait— Sebastian, I'm sorry, just don't—"

Just looking at you is enough to shut you up, cold stare gawking as if he hadn't a single care about you; a stark contrast to his still yet trembling cock in his pants, repositioning his body and "accidentally" thrusting his cock more in your direction. Fuck, you shouldn't hand him such power over so easily, the sight of your eyes squeezed tightly shut, forcing a few tears to drip drop onto your cheeks, and eventually his bed, has his body positively thrumming with sadistic enjoyment.

Part of him wishes you'd continue begging, let him see just how desperate you can get when faced with your new toy. But more than that, he wants to remind you of his cruel love. It's what he came down here to do, isn't it? What you slammed the door for, right?

"Please be good for me and sit still," He repeats himself, adopting a softer look in the face of your clear fear. As cute as it is, he loves you, his heart pleading to comfort your frightened state. "It'll be over soon, promise. Don't wanna hurt you, kay?"

And before he has a chance to register your response, his knife comes into contact with your pretty wrist and the squeak the metal brings out of you is enough to leave him yearning. Eyes rolled back briefly in hedonistic pleasure, from a single fucking yelp. God, you're so perfect. So pretty and perfect that he can't wait to defile you with his dirty knife, to bare witness to your extreme vulnerability, stand up to the challenge of tending to your self imposed wounds. All in the name of love— it's his life purpose at this point.

It makes sense in his lust fuelled mind, anyway. Overflowing with love for you, brimming over and out into his trembling fist wrapped securely around the knife, all it'd take is a little more pressure. Just a small amount downwards, breach the first layer of your skin and—

Fuck, he's panting. Literally heaving over your quivering frame like some sort of twisted deviant. You know he's doing this out of love, right? That he just adores you way too much to let your actions go unpunished, taking a single shaky inhale before digging the tip of the knife into your soft, supple, skin.

Not too deep! No, this is more of a warning rather than anything more substantial, but it's enough. Enough to leave him drooling over your arm at the mere sight of bright red trickling down it, staining the metal dark for him to lick at later. A measly surface level scratch in his eyes, staring at the mark intensely as he drags the knife across the width of your arm, cock jumping in his pants with every grunt and sigh that escapes your pretty kissable lips with his violent movements.

Lovers meet eyes once he's done, the knife clumsily falling from his hand and onto the bed below, the way you flinch away from the offending item is what finally convinces him to give him cock a little more attention now that you've been properly punished. Pawing away at his jeans with heaving lungs, unable to decide whether to watch the blood trickle from your new cut, or to stare at the horrified expression you now wear as he effectively jerks off right in front of you.

He steals the illusion of choice away from you in one swift move anyway, grabbing at your arm and tugging it with a bruising grip to his lips. Immediately flattening his dirty tongue over the fresh wound, openly moaning against your skin at the taste of your sweet blood. Violence does not always take physical form, and he knows it to be true when he drips saliva along the cut, hoping to dribble parts of himself into you just as much as he's attempting to clean you all better. Or, perhaps more honestly, selfishly using your taste to get off to.

But there is so much love to be had in violence too, isn't there? The tender way his grip softens, now that he's drunk off your blood. How he's rushing to undress himself with one hand because he simply can't stand the thought of not showing you exactly what you do to him just by existing, by crying so prettily like that as he debases you in the secluded privacy of his basement room. With teeth and tongue, lapping with the intent of sucking you dry, huffing in your scent, mumbling over your taste— there is love, here.

Perhaps a little too much so.

#500 event!#sdv smut #sdv sebastian smut #sebastian smut #stardew valley smut #stardew valley sebastian smut

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postazkabansiriussupremacy · 1 day

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would be so funny if after sirius and reader fuck for the first time, the next time he sees remus hes debriefing like they used to when they were younger and remus is like “you never change do you” but sirius goes “she’s different!” because she is 🤭 and then glimpses of how sirius and reader act together that make remus realise that his friend is indeed whipped, head over heels, long gone

my first ask 🙇🏻‍♀️‼️ thank u. i’m not super confident in writing dialog but i gave it my best effort lmao

from the moment Remus gets back to grimmauld place… he knows something’s up.

The air feels different, and Sirius is all but skipping around the house.

Remus quickly puts two and two together as it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s been going on. Sirius wears his emotions on his sleeve, and it’s been obvious from the very beginning that he has an interest in you.

After a meeting, Remus pulls Sirius to the side and sighs. “Really, Sirius?”

Sirius can’t help the smug little smile on his face. He knows exactly what Remus is referring to, but he likes to play coy, and the back-and-forth between them is always a bit of fun. “Something on your mind, Remus?”

Remus wants to roll his eyes. He speaks in a quiet but firm tone. “Must I spell it out for you? Do you think what you’re doing is appropriate?”

Sirius responds with a simple glance of his eyes. He locks eyes with Remus, slowly looks over to Tonks, and then meets eyes with Remus again. As if saying ‘You’re not one to talk’ without having to say it

Of course Sirius would know about that. Remus thinks bitterly. It’s sometimes easy to forget that Sirius is smarter and more perceptive than he lets on.

Not bothering to try and save face, Remus defends quietly, “That isn’t the same.”

“How so?” Sirius asks, knowing he’s already won the confrontation without even having to say much.

Remus could create a list of reasons as to why Sirius Black of all people shouldn’t be sleeping with one of the new order members. No matter the reasons why, Sirius was never known for committed relationships or monogamy.

But right now isn’t the time for this discussion. The meeting’s just ended and everyone’s rounding up for dinner. Remus sighs. “You’ll never change, will you?”

Remus thinks the conversation is done, but Sirius replies after a short pause. Remus is mildly surprised by how genuine Sirius sounds when he says “This time is different, old friend.”

Remus knows Sirius. He knows him better than anyone else. And he knows that Sirius won’t take this so-called ‘relationship’ seriously.

In Remus’s mind, he thinks that Sirius is just bored. He knows it’s hard for Sirius to be trapped in his childhood home, and having a pretty girl around is a good distraction.

Throughout dinner, Remus can’t help but steal glances at the two of you. He watches the way Sirius listens to you when you speak, his eyes never straying from yours.

After dinner, Remus watches Sirius as he makes you a cup of tea. Sirius adds a generous amount of milk and a small pinch of sugar as if he’s already memorized your preferences.

Then in the middle of the night, Remus rises out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom. Whilst passing by Sirius’s room, Remus can hear bits and pieces of your late-night conversations. It’s difficult to make out your quiet mumblings, but it’s got something to do with life after the war and possible children.

Remus decides to stop pestering Sirius. Perhaps this could be a good thing in the long run

#i wanted to make it longer and REALLY show some fluff #but it felt like it was going on too long #idk why maybe it was just insecurity talking #sirius black #sirius black x reader #post azkaban sirius #post azkaban sirius black x reader #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fanfiction #ask

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brainworms-all-night-long · 1 day

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Based on this post and another one (that I cant find for the life of me but I'm sure exists!!) about Sonic also doing graffiti because he vibes with it as a form of self expression, Aka Sonic and Nine banter fluff with a grain of plot somewhere in between

[2,358 words]

---

"Still find it so pleasantly surprising it was so easy to convince you." Sonic said after he vaulted over the railing while keeping his hold on it with one hand, his words now slightly muffled through his respirator.

"Says you! I didn't know you were up for vandalism."

"It's not vandalism, It's art." The hedgehog replied in a sassy tone, accentuating the 't' at the end and then shaking his spray can. "Without it, all this would be just a sad gray slab of concrete."

"Tch, sure."

Nine scoffed but the smile in his tone was evident while he rummaged through the bag of sprays and paints and finally settling on a few eye-bleeding colors on the yellow-blue spectrum he wanted to use.

"That one's almost empty." The hedgehog pointed towards the turquoise can that Nine flipped in his hand. He deadpanned as he must've felt it was unusually light.

"No wayyy, I couldn't tell."

"And wear the mask."

"My lungs are destroyed already, what's a few more whiffs of spray paint. No need to pester me."

Oh, Sonic will have exactly none of that backtalk, nor will he rely on the fox's habit of saying no but doing what he was told anyway, because this is not putting away the salt after a lunch, but genuine health concern.

"Nine." he added just a bit more insistence into his tone.

The mentioned fox was now staring at him unimpressed through the railing, a silent challenge as neither of them dared to blink for a good minute.

Nine eventually gave in when his eyes started to dry out and sighed, pulling out the respirator from his pocket and tying it behind his head.

"Thank you." Sonic finally shook the spray can and gave a couple short splashes of it into the open air before putting down the first lines of his soon-to-be masterpiece.

"Didn't do it for you."

"Ah but didn't you "don't" need to wear it?" Detecting the immediate loophole in the other's baseless complaints Sonic continued to focus on his outline, not lifting his head to look at the fox.

Whatever he grumbled under his nose was inconsequential as both of them finally let the conversation drop and Nine then flung himself over the railing as well.

Albeit Nine had just a bit more advantage than one poor hedgehog hanging on with one hand that will surely fall asleep sooner or later, since he could not only fly, but use his mechanical tails to hold onto the road overpass in case he got tired of that.

For a while the only sounds accompanying them were that of late night traffic and spray painting.

Sonic just couldn't let it go though, it wasn't fair,

"Heh, cheater."

His arm was still doing strong but what was a little salty banter, he was itchinf for a conversation.

"Nah, I just didn't pick a spot where I'm at a risk of falling into a highway."

A fair point, he probably should've done more pre-planning just this once, but come on, how often do you see exquisite graffiti made on the _middle_ of a road overpass? He has to have the bragging rights to it!

"Not like you can just fly."

"Eh, it's more of a hindrance really." The fox waved him off and grabbed onto the concrete base of the road, then anchoring himself onto it with his mechanical tails "Can't get the lines straight."

"Bet those don't get tired either." Sonic's point still stands.

"Done complaining?"

Nine looked at him with seemingly all of the annoyance and indifference he could with just half his face. And Sonic couldn't help but snicker.

"Hey I'm just poking fun! No need to take it so personally!"

Nine sat, stood? something in between, in silence for a second. A silence Sonic recognized as a very bad, not good kind of silence. As in, he's contemplating to either do something stupid he knows he shouldn't do, dangerous, or a mix of both.

And thank Gaia for his light speed reflexes, when he barely managed to dodge a green splotch of paint landing on his shoe.

"Oh it's on."

Sonic reached as far as he could and even if he gave a warning, Nine didn't get to dodge the attacking mist of turquoise that landed on the side of his shorts and an edge of his mechanical tail.

"He-hey! This won't get washed off!" Nine cried, but didn't let the new design bother him for long as Sonic saw a malicious glimmer in his eyes.

Nine reached towards his left-hand glove which Sonic almost moved out of the way, if he didn't remember that was the only difference between him being here or careening bellow onto a highway. Not that he couldn't get back up here in a second but instinct still betrayed him as the glove was no longer white.

"You're lucky you don't wear more clothes." The grin in Nine's voice was heard as he threw the can away "and that it's almost empty."

"What can I say, luck is always in my cards."

Drat, he should really restock his supplies. Ah but when he always forgets and remembers already when it's too late.

He looked at his new paint job and figured it wasn't that bad, good gloves are much easier to come by and buy in bulk than shoes that could withstand his daily running. Not that he would mind a change in color per se, but green just wasn't his.

On his clothes he means, well- ah whatever, he should focus on the task at hand.

Only after getting a last metaphorical word in by sending a tiny cloud of paint Nine's way, who promptly hissed at him.

Speaking of hands though, it was slowly beginning to fall asleep, but he chose to persist, this is gotta be a quick one then.

As he planned to turn his full attention to his own piece of art however, his eyes were dragged by what Nine was painting.

"Woa you can do it lineless?"

"Yea, pretty cool right." The smugness radiated off of him as he leaned back to either admire it or show it off better "Doesn't help that I might have to line it anyway cuz so far it looks like shit."

"Hey don't say that, trust the process!"

"If the process makes it look like a jumbled paint stain what is there to trust."

"Well for one, someone will find it pretty, beautiful even. And second!" Nine raised his spray can, as if to threaten Sonic with a mouthful of neon green spray if he continued. Sonic was not deterred in the slightest though, "It's by a road. No one will have the time or chance to look for every minor mistake you see up close."

And Nine promptly lowered his hand at that and sighed, resuming his work.

"I hate how you make sense."

Nine sighed, almost fondly? Though Sonic ignored that in favor of observing his style, which for some reason rang familiar.

"Hm, were any of the graffiti in New Yoke made by you?"

"Just one."

One question satisfied, yet another popped up, but he could finally turn away and catch up in progress to where Nine was at. Quickly setting down the outline for the idea sitting in his head for weeks.

"And it stayed unfinished because I almost got busted by eggforcers. Didn't have the courage to return to it since."

"Maybe we could someday go back there and finish it." He gave a quick look towards the fox and while he can't say he expected a positive reaction, the other almost recoiled even at the mere mention of going back to New Yoke.

"The city is bound to have changed since the council was dethroned and left to float endlessly in the void I'm sure!" Sonic tried his best to make the proposal sound more appealing despite that. Mostly cuz he wasn't too much against the idea himself, if anything he'd love to go back to check on everyone.

Chaos he missed them all so much actually, there surely has to be a way to get in and out of the Shatterverse. And he knows someone in particular to pick their brains about this.

"Doubt the people have."

"Who knows, maybe they're in a better mood now that they get to see the sun every once in a while. It sure worked on you."

Nine glared at the graffiti before him as if it just called him the most offensive insult, but really sonic found out that was his defensive thinking face.

"Still a no."

"Sure thing bud, won't pressure you. Although..." Sonic started, unsure of just how much more he can push this before it gets too uncomfortable. "I wouldn't be against going there myself."

"Doubt Shadow will let you near the Prism or that you'd want a repeat of the first adventure"

That was, a surprisingly calm and straightforward answer, huh. "Yea but I mean it like, there's gotta be a different way right? Since you're here and all."

Yea he was definitely pushing it, Nine turned away from him and fully concentrating on his artwork in favor of answering.

And the subject dropped after a while of tense silence. It mellowed out back into the more plesant one they had at the beginning, with Sonic continuously reminding himself he can't rush it too much or it will end up looking not up to his standard.

Somewhere along the way he exchanged hands as his left one was threatening to fall asleep and he really didn't want to deal with the aftermath of that. But he could do with a few wonky lines instead, so it was a fair trade-off.

They both stayed without a word, up until Sonic felt confident enough to sign his signature and Nine's voice suddenly perked up

"Nicky?" He questioned while it turned out he was actually observing him for a while.

"Gotta have a pseudonym, my name on itself is pretty famous as is." Sonic could finally release the strain on his arm and leg as he hopped up and sat down on the railing. Then finally put down his respirator and took in a deep breath.

"Sounds weirdly adorable for a street artist."

"Oh come on what's yours then?" Sonic asked with more of a genuine curiosity. 'Nine' was already a pretty cool name in his humble ever-correct opinion, and he could imagine the fox coming up with a myriad of cool variations of it.

But Nine's ears only pinned back slightly.

"I don't really have one." He admitted and Sonic could swear he sounded embarrassed.

"I, well most of what I draw is just for myself," he started slowly, "I never needed a complicated signature or a pseudonym since no one besides me would see it anyway."

"Hehe, understandable" Sonic couldn't help but find that both charming and sad, in a way. A fond memory of Tails trying and in his words failing to draw him a picture or two years back resurfaced. The little kit suppressing tears because he could "never get the lines just right" and later lighting up like a candle when Sonic complimented it up and down, because may the lines not be perfect, it was draw for him, and no amount of technical mistakes Tails decided to point out didn't stop his heart from doing backflips.

"Wouldn't mind seeing some of your hidden masterpieces if that's the case."

Aaand Nine froze again, sucking in a deep breath.

"They're all... in New Yoke. Or the Grim. But since both of my labs were destroyed due to one reason or another I don't think most of it survived." The fox resumed his work, and when Sonic leaned over he could see him most likely adding the finishing touches to what was most definitely a self-portrait with a few artistic liberties. Either Sonic was reminiscing for way longer than he registered or Nine managed to speedrun it.

"Oh well," the hedgehog took a second to mince his words as he properly leaned back a bit, a couple of cars breezed past him as he contemplated whether to try again or leave it be. "I mean, there would be no harm in taking a quick look. I-if not then you could always just make more stuff here! It's just, a shame I think?" He regretted his choice halfway once he heard the fox sigh.

"We both know you wouldn't just go and dip, Sonic." Nine threw the white spray over him into the bag and sat back into his mechanical tails, finally putting down his mask.

"But there's also no convincing you otherwise. So fine." He crossed his arms "But we're dragging Tails along."

Sonic's heart swiveled at that. He kicked up his legs and flipped back off the railing.

"That was the plan!"

And he couldn't help the grin that made its way across his face as he outstretched a hand towards Nine to take it.

The fox only pulled out his phone from the pocket of his pants and let go of the concrete wall, suspending himself in there further away.

"Don't you want a photo?"

"Ohoho, you betcha!" Sonic almost feared he would have to let his hand fall in shame, but he gripped the metal in front of him with excitement instead.

"Do you want my shoes on there or not?"

"Sure, if you want to incriminate yourself."

With a smirk that slowly turned to a genuine smile, Nine took at least five separate pictures.

Afterward, they packed the bags and slowly took off back to the nearby field with a not-so-subtly parked biplane.

#sonic prime #theyre silly your honor #artist nine be beloved <333 #if you see a mention of sonic seeing nine's facial expressions no you didnt #i had to keep reminding myself that Im trying to write this from Sonic's perspective and not Nine's #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #miles nine prower #nine the fox #me when I finish writing #the same but different

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slutforslytherinx · 14 hours

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hi i am new at asks but I was wondering if you could do a FLUFF Mattheo Riddle x reader were they go camping and decide to go on a hike bit get lost or separated from each other and they somehow get reunited? And can you plz tag me on it? Thank you for reading and considering this!

muggle activities gone wrong

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

pairing: mattheo x muggleborn!fem!reader

warnings: panicky mattheo, tiny injuries, tad bit of angst, and i think that’s it?? :)

a/n: thank you so much for being my first ask!! this was such a cute request and i hope it meets your expectations🤍

convincing your boyfriend, mattheo, to go on a muggle camping trip with you wasn’t easy. he, being raised around magic, was wary of the idea of cutting ties with the thing he was reliant on for the entire weekend.

over the course of the week, you chipped away at his worries bit by bit until he finally relented. you were majorly regretting that decision right now. he would never go on a camping trip again after this.

it started out amazingly. the two of you borrowed your parents car and drove down to the sight, (mostly you because he doesn’t have a license), and attempted to put the tent together to the best of your abilities.

you showed him how to roast a marshmallow and taught him your favorite board games before you both retired to your sleeping bags, cuddling together for warmth. it started going south earlier this morning, when you both decided that a hiking trail sounded like a good idea.

how wrong you were. it started out fun, taking polaroids of each other at pretty landmarks and seeing nature from a new perspective. however, it all went wrong when you saw the prettiest tree in the distance with budding purple and pink flowers for leaves.

you started heading towards it while mattheo was at a nearby water fountain on the edge of the trail, thinking he would figure you went to go see it. you were wrong. you waited by the tree in excitement, wanting to take a picture together, but after a couple minutes, you started to get worried.

you headed back to your previous spot, your boyfriend nowhere to be found. that was an hour ago, and he was still nowhere to be found. did he go off the trail? did he think you went a different way and started going backwards? is he okay?

worries filled your mind as you pushed your way through bushes, searching all over for the curly haired boy. tiny scratches littered your arms from sharp thorns, a small amount of dry blood surrounding them.

the sun was high in the sky, the heat scorching your skin to the point you were certain you’d have a nasty sunburn despite the sunscreen you applied earlier.

how far away could he be? it wasn’t a necessarily dangerous trail, unless he went off the path. he wouldn’t do that though, right? your voice was sore from yelling his name in hopes he might hear and your mouth was dry from dehydration.

you made the decision that you would keep searching for another thirty minutes, and if you couldn’t find him you’d go get people for help. “mattheo!” you yelled into the otherwise quiet atmosphere, praying by any chance he was nearby and heard.

a distant call made you immediately alert, eyes widening in relief that you might’ve finally found him. “mattheo!” you shouted again, louder this time as you hastily made your way to the direction of the voice.

you pushed through more bushes to make your way to him, ignoring the sting of thorns against your bare arms. the calls got louder and clearer the closer you got, confirming the fact that it was definitely your boyfriend.

“oh my god!” you shrieked, stumbling into his arms when you reunited. “do you know how worried i was? i was about to go get help!” you clung to him, a sigh of relief escaping your mouth.

“do you know how worried i was? i came back and you were gone, where the hell did you go?” he retaliated, stepping back and examining you with concerned eyes. “why are you bleeding?”

“i went to go see the tree up ahead! i thought we could get a picture there but after a few minutes i went back to get you and you weren’t there. and i just got pricked by some thorns, i’m fine.” mattheos jaw clenched, the worry in his eyes dimming the slightest bit.

“i take it you won’t go camping ever again after this?” you teased, attempting to brighten to mood. he rolled his eyes, but the quirk of his lip gave away his amusement.

“never again.” he repeated, trying to look serious but failing. you could read him like a book, even if it took quite awhile to reach this point. “let’s go.” he took your hand in his, starting forward with you trying to match his pace. “where are we going?”

“back to the tent to disinfect your arms.” you wisely decided to not fight him on it, allowing him to lead you back to the tent. if you guys got a tad lost on the way, it wasn’t your fault! you made it back safely, anyways.

as he now sat in front of you with a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a concentrated look, his brow furrowed as worked, you didn’t care about the failed camping trip. all you cared about was him.

#slytherin boys #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #oneshot #mattheo riddle blurb #fanfic #harry potter #blurb

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writingroom21 · 15 hours

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Husband?

Pairing: bf Rafe x fem reader

Summary: Seeing a new TikTok trend you try it out on you boyfriend Rafe

Warnings: None, fluff, established relationship

Wc: 660

Scrolling on TikTok you lay in the hammock in your backyard. It was a nice day out, not being too hot, enough to keep you comfortable as you lay still. Rafe is supposed to be coming over, his text stating the two of you need to go on a date. It was sweet how he tries to make time with you.

He was never good with relationships, usually just sticking to hooking up or having a short lived romance. There was no need to for him to have a girlfriend when he had plenty girls throwing themselves at him. That all changed once you came into the picture, kicking his world off its axis.

Once he saw you yelling at a boy that was hitting on you at his party he was hooked. He wanted to get to know you, needing to get a taste of the fire behind your eyes. You didn't make things easy for him, stringing him along for weeks before giving him the time of day. What was supposed to be a fun hookup for him turned into something deeper. He was obsessed never wanting to let you go, good thing you felt the same.

As you keep scrolling a TikTok of a couple catches your attention. They are sitting on a couch, the boyfriend watching tv as the girlfriend records them. "So I was just out with my husband and" "YOUR HUSBAND?" his outburst making you laugh as he blushes before kissing the girl. It was a cute video, it made you curious on how Rafe would react to you calling him your husband.

A text pings on your phone, covering the top of the video. Baby boy: I'm here pretty girl. The nickname heats your cheeks, still having the same effect on you as if it was the first time hearing it. You shoot back a text telling him you were coming.

Rafe's standing by the passenger door waiting for you, smiling once he sees you come around the corner, closing the backyard gate. You jog over to him, jumping into his arms as you wrap yours around his neck, placing a sweet his to his lips. "Well hello to you too gorgeous."

"Hi." you giggle, getting into the open door he held, buckling up as he closes it. He rounds the corner getting in, his hand finding its rightful place on your thigh. Your sundress giving his access to the exposed flesh, giving it a squeeze before pulling out the driveway.

"Where are we going." You ask looking out the window to feel the breeze on your face. "Thought we could go to that field we found and have a picnic." His head tilting to the back to show the basket and blanket in the backseat. "Sounds perfect." Conversation stalling as you both enjoy just being in the same space. Only breaking the silence to talk about your days.

Reaching the field you both exist the truck, grabbing the materials and finding a spot to set up. The food spread out along the blanket, wine being poured into the glassed he brought along. This was the perfect time to execute your plan.

You take your phone and open up TikTok, cuing the video, please the phone in front of you two. You start the video grabbing the glass Rafe is handing over to you. "Alright guys my husband decided to take me on this cute picnic date. Look at all of the things he brought." You look over at Rafe seeing the smile gracing his face

"Fuck yeah I am. About time you noticed." He responded, taking his family ring off, grabbing you hand to slide it on your thumb. It's the only finger that it will fit on. "Now everyone will know lifting your hand he places a kiss on your ring finger. A promise that one day there'll be a ring there.

Yeah you would say that the trend was a success.

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron blurb

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allsadnshit · 2 days

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It's so wild telling someone I'm agoraphobic and hearing them be like "oh dude you will be fine! Let's hang out!"

Like oh damn why didn't I think of that?!?!?!

SIKE!!!!!! Are you fucking fr? You think I am afraid to leave my house and didn't piece together it's not logical or that I enjoy it?!?! Like hell yeah I wanna have friends - fuck no wanting that doesn't change the OCD or make me feel safe just because something sounds fun?!?!?

Am I a joke to you like please.... respectfully if it was that easy they wouldn't make a diagnosis for the affliction

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penvisions · 3 days

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🐎 small talking about …worst weather they’ve each been in, or best/favourite weather they each have. Everybody can talk about the weather, even grumpy Joel Miller…

@jessthebaker ooooh yes i LOVE this idea, even the grumpiest of grumpy joel miller can dad talk about the weather

word count: 1k (got a little carried away bc i love these two so much, oops)

warnings: horses be tricky, reader has phonophobia, thunder, storms, summer storms

a/n: this was so fun! i decided to write about their experiences with bad weather, but i made him not grumpy since well, i was feelin' like this would be a bit further along in their patrol partnership

series masterlist || main masterlist

“This pressure in the air is…” You trailed off as you gazed up at the darkened sky. The deep, moody gray having crawled across the sky to blanket the sun. Lightning burst to life on the horizon, making you freeze atop Lowry. The sweet horse so attuned to you that she paused in her slow, meandering steps.

Thunder boomed, echoing across the open plains, startling you even as you waited for the sound with a held breath.

“We should head back, storm’s comin’ in fast.” Joel regarded you atop his own horse, Kiana. She whinnied, not liking the direction he was turning her toward with gentle motions of the reigns. The hush of rain on the horizon was loud as it moved toward you both. Wetting the plains with fat droplets that did nothing to quell the humidity that had made the air dense and hard to breath. Intensifying the heat of the mid-summer day and almost instantly flooding the ground into a muddy mess.

“Yeah, good call.” Following his lead, you steered Lowry to turn around. It had been too slow a realization on both your parts, clothing soaked and sticking to your skin and weighing down your hair as you closed the distance back toward the settlement. With a piercing whistle just as you crested a slippery hill, Joel let the guards on duty know that you were back.

Laughter bubbled up from them underneath their makeshift protection against the rain atop the tall, foreboding wall that protected your town. You couldn’t help but share in their good moods despite the sudden shift in weather when you and Joel finally found yourselves underneath the eaves of the stables.

His graying curls were soaked, one of them so affected it looked like a ringlet as it fell over his forehead and flopped with his every move. Heat bloomed in your chest when he tossed you a mild glare, but the sparkle in his dark eyes told you he didn’t mind it so much.

“Alright, I get it, I look like a drowned rat.” He shoved at you lightly as you dismounted and began to tend to Lowery. She knickered before she shook out the water from her fur without warning. Kiana imitated her, pelting you both.

“Alright, enough.” His quiet command had the two horses baring their teeth in a true flehmen response.

“That the worst weather you been caught in?” You removed your wide brimmed hat, grateful for the little shield it had made over your hair and face. Until the horses had decided to mess around, picking up on the easy-going mood despite the rain.

“Nah, worst would be a snowstorm back in Boston. QZ hadn’t been prepared for it, we lost what little power we had for nearly two weeks.” He easily spoke as he began to tend to his own horse, rich velvet voice soothing with the backdrop of the hard rain. “Before that it had been…fix or six years ago when I was out on a run. Nearly got picked up by a tornado as I sought out shelter where I could.”

“Oh geez, that’s intense.” You hung up the saddle just outside of Lowrey’s nook, closing the tall door behind you and ensuring the lock latched shut.

“What about you?” You turned from where you had offered the appaloosa a handful of hay. The tickle of her soft, velvety muzzle bringing a smile to your face. Joel was hanging up his own saddle, detaching the supplies he had fastened to it. His shot gun still secured across his broad shoulders.

“Hands down the ice storm that hit my city before the year before the Outbreak. Entire thing shut down because ice was built up about three inches thick on every roadway and street. Then it hailed and snowed for a week straight. Took forever for it to thaw out with the temps below freezing for so long. It was a bad winter, that’s for sure. But we never lost power, thankfully.” Walking side by side, you stoon just inside the stables with the man. Both of you staring out at the sheet of steady rain coming down from the even darker sky. It looked like dusk, even though the day had been new and the sun had just risen a few hours ago.

“Chicago?” He looked over at you, eyes roving over your profile. He noticed how your long lashes stuck together, the way your clothing stuck to your skin. Stepping away he rummaged around the collection of items stored around the doorway. With a grunt of appreciation at his stroke of good luck, he presented you with a worn umbrella.

“Yeah, born and raised.” Your eyes held long felt emotions as you shook your head at his offering. With a tug, you secured your leather hat back atop your head. Fingers tipping the brim, you dismissed him. “Got my hat, you need it more.”

“Why don’t we share, sweetheart?”

“Joel Miller’s gonna walk me home in the rain.” The teasing tone of your voice may have been lost in the way your voice lilted but he didn’t seem to show if he noticed.

“Someone’s gotta protect you from the thunder.” A raised eyebrow, a challenge from the handsome man had you feeling weak in the knees. He was teasing you, he was actually being friendly with you and your stomach flipped. It had been so long since anyone outside of your extremely small circle had felt comfortable enough around you to do so.

“Y-yeah, I’m not the biggest fa-fan of loud noises.” One of your hands rubbed at the back of your neck, heat filling your cheeks as you realized he had noticed your twitch of every boom as you made your way back to the settlement.

“Don’t worry, I gotcha. But once the ice forms, you’re on your own.” His lips quirked up in a grin as he opened the umbrella and sidled back up beside you. With a small brush of your shoulders against his in silent retaliation, you both stepped out from under the safety of the stables and into the rain.

come celebrate the last chapter with dev!

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#submission #dev answers #dev celebrates #fic: by the grit of sandpaper #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #final chapter celebration #oh look dev has a queue

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beautification-tales · 20 hours

Text

The Betrayal

A late Bloomer tale

Marsha, Stacey, and Ruby were sitting at the cafeteria of their university. They laughed and smiled at each other as they enjoyed the glances from the men. “They really want us don’t they?” Ruby giggled. “It’s so easy these days… it’s practically just routine. I mean, I just eat now but it’s not as fun as it used to be.” Stacey sighed crossing her arms. She slumped in her chair as if she was bored. Marsha rubbed Stacey’s shoulder and said. “Well my maker said we need to find a 4th. I think that should give you the excitement you crave.”

Stacey sat up as her expression shifted to happiness. “Yeah, I’m sure Peter bullied another girl at this school. I…. I could ask him..” she trailed off, her eyes wandered thinking of torturing Peter for information. “Eww, no Stacey leave that fucktard in the rear view. You got your revenge now let’s help our new recruit get theirs.” Stacey moped as Marsha gave her friend a directive. Ruby coughed to cut the tension.

“Well we can always recruit Becky.” Ruby suggested. “Who the fuck is Becky?” Stacey asked with a scoff. “She’s my old roommate. She got betrayed by her best friend.” Marsha’s eyes lit up and quickly glowed. “That sounds delicious Ruby. You think you can turn her for us?” Ruby smiled mischievously, excited to bring a new member into the fold.

“You think I’m ready?” Ruby asked Marsha. Marsha nodded as she gave Stacey a look of disappointment. “ Absolutely girl! You’re ready and you definitely have self control. Unlike others in this group.” “Not fair Marsha! You give me power to get what I want and now it’s all ‘leave Peter alone.’” Stacey raised her voice as onlookers paid even more attention to them. “Lower your voice. Ugh, anyway Ruby. Turn her tonight. Remember to eat well as it will take a lot to make her ‘bloom”

“Oh yeah. I’m hungry anyway. See you girls later!” Ruby got up from the table. She pulled her pencil skirt down and began walking toward the door. A male student tripped and fell distracted by Ruby’s strut. The cafeteria erupted in laughter as the student began picking up his mess. Ruby turned around and approached the embarrassed guy. She bent at the waist effortlessly to pick up a plate and handed it to him. The room became almost silent as Ruby said something to the guy and he began to smile. He placed his tray and plates on one of the tables as Ruby put her arm through his as they walked out.

Marsha smiled with pride as she watched the scene unfold. “Hmmm good girl. You see that? That’s how you feed!” Stacey leaned forward and grabbed onto Marsha’s hand. “Please Marsha! I’m sorry! Can I please see Peter? Just once?” Marsha sighed and removed her hand from Stacey's grip. She knew Stacey wasn’t sorry at all. “You play with your food too much! So you are on a Peter free diet indefinitely!” Marsha’s eyes glowed as she commanded Stacey. “Augh!” Stacey screamed as she got up and grabbed a guy by the arm as she left the building. “Umm hey!” A guy said to Marsha feeling a bit more confident to approach as her gorgeous friends had just left. “Soak your jeans fuckboi.” Marsha purred and her eyes glowed. The guy’s face grimaced as he orgasmed in his pants. A wet stain began to form at his crotch. “Well I’m full!” Marsha smiled as she left the cafeteria.

One year ago

In the same cafeteria

“Hey cow! Why are you eating in here? Shouldn’t you be grazing on the fields?” Peter chuckled, as Mark and Paul laughed with him. “Just leave me alone please. Please, Peter?” Stacey looked up from her table. Peter looked down at Stacey and grinned. “I will if you say it. C’mon do it and we’ll go.” Stacey looked down as her eyes began to water. “Mmmoooo” Stacey bellowed still looking down at her food. “Ha ! I can’t believe she did that! What a loser!” Peter said to his crew as they walked off. Stacey was left alone once again and returned to eating her meal.

A few tables down Marsha was sitting with Tom. “How do you know she likes you Tom?” Marsha asked her best friend with a smile. “Well she smiled at me and put her hand on my shoulder.” Marsha gave a skeptical look to her friend’s answer. “You’re just jealous. You want all this Tom to yourself.” Tom flexed his thin arms as Marsha laughed out loud. She pushed her glasses up her nose. “I love how you always make me laugh.” She giggled. “I love you too.” Tom replied with a serious face and tone. Marsha blushed then smiled again. “Shut up limp dick.” She pushed her friend’s shoulder. “Marsha, Marsha! Language!” They laughed together.

On the other side of the cafeteria Ruby was sitting with Becky. Peter and his crew just sat down still laughing not too far away. “He’s so cute, Becky. He has the bluest eyes you ever did see. It’s like Zack Morris in real life.” Ruby had stars in her eyes as she looked at Mark talking with Peter and Paul. “Ruby, you can’t be serious. They are stupid frat boys who only fuck blonde sorority bitches. They bully girls like us. I mean Peter loves bullying Stacey.” Becky gestured in Stacey’s direction as Stacey sat eating her salad. “Trust me Becky. Mark will fall for me and we will get married and I’ll have his babies!” Ruby blushed as she imagined it. Becky rolled her eyes. “Anyway I’ll see you at the dorm later to study kay?” Ruby nodded as Becky got up from the table with her tray in hand. “Tell Bill I said hi.” Ruby smiled as Becky walked off. Ruby looked back at Mark and felt her heart skip a beat.

Becky walked across campus to her boyfriend’s dorm room. She was hoping to surprise him with a quick make out session before class. As she arrived at his door, she could hear laughter coming from within. Frowning, she knocked on the door. Becky could hear the room grow quiet. “Who’s there?” Bill asked. “Babe it’s me open up!” Becky could hear the whispering in the room as Becky banged on the door. “Bill open this fucking door!” Suddenly, the door swung open revealing Bill with a red face. “Look babe it’s not what it looks like.” Becky pushed past him and saw the blond woman buttoning her shirt. “What the Fuck! ….Traci?” Becky shouted as Traci looked down in shame. Becky looked back at Bill and began slapping his shoulder. “My best friend?! Behind my back? You’re a fucking monster!”

The shame had now caused Traci to cry as tears ran down her face. “Why Traci? When I came to you thinking he was cheating …. Y.. you said nothing when all this time it was you?” Becky felt like she may pass out as all she could see was red. “Look it’s all my fault. I wanted Traci since day one but she wanted you to ‘win’ one for once. I’m sorry Becky but…. We’re in love.” Traci looked at Bill with love and tears in her eyes. Becky felt her head spinning. “I think I’m going to be sick.” Becky pushed past Bill. Becky ran out of the building with tears and rage.

Present day

Rubi knocked on her former dorm room and opened the door. “Becky? Hey are you in here.” The room was dark and was dirty. Becky was doing homework while eating chips. “Yeah… what do you want?” Becky answered, hardly looking up from her desk. Becky’s lips were littered with chip crumbs as she wiped the grease on her hoodie. Ruby grimaced as she saw how badly her friend let herself go. “Hey Becky… it’s me Ruby!” Becky ‘s eyes lit up as she swallowed another handful of chips. She wiped her hands and rubbed on the shirt.

“Ruby? Is that really you?” Becky asked, her voice filled with disbelief and excitement. Ruby nodded, smiling at her old friend. She took in the sight of Becky's unkempt hair, the dark circles under her eyes, and the extra weight she had gained since they last saw each other. It was obvious that Becky had been going through a rough patch, but Ruby was determined to help her.

“Wow! You look great! Did you have work done? You look like a film star!” Becky gushed, her eyes examining Ruby from head to toe. Ruby laughed, as she twirled showing her tight dress, pantyhose and heels. “You like? It sure beats my plaid shirts and jeans that I used to wear.” She looked around the room, taking in the mess.

Becky realized her former roommate noticed the empty pizza boxes and dirty clothes on the floor. She grinned sheepishly, trying to play it off. “Yeah! You look great. You have to recommend your surgeon to me. Sorry about the mess. It’s been a busy semester.” Becky tried to play off her current situation. Ruby walked further into the room, glancing around.

“Becky, you don’t have to lie to me. I was too stupid and obsessed with Mark to see it then. You needed a friend and I let you push me away. I’m so sorry.” Ruby took a step closer, her voice cracking with emotion. Becky looked up at her, surprised by the intensity of Ruby's words. She bit her lip, trying to hold back tears. Becky smiled trying to change the subject. “How is that jerkoff anyway?” she asked, motioning up and down. Ruby laughed softly.

“Let’s just say the new me has him wrapped around my little finger.” Ruby laughed, spinning her index finger. She glanced around the room again, taking in the dust and the dirty clothes. "Look, I'm here to help you, Becky. What Traci and Bill did to you… It wasn’t right. I mean look at you! You were the one who told me to live life and here you are in the dark in filth. They stole your fire and I’m here to give it back.”

Becky looked at her old friend, her eyes full of hope. "Ruby, I don't know if I can go back to who I was. I've let myself go so far..." She trailed off, staring at her hands. Ruby walked over and took Becky's hands in her own. “I’m talking about being even better! I have new friends Becky… powerful friends. We were all wronged or ignored and now no one hurts us. We do the hurting… we’re going to run this School.” Ruby looked at her friend with a stern face.

Becky scoffed “So you want me in your new gang? Sure I’d join but isn’t a pathetic girl like me going to bring y….mmmph.” Becky was interrupted as Ruby lept forward and kissed her friend. Becky’s eyes opened wide as she felt Ruby’s tongue enter her mouth. Becky was about to push away but Ruby lips felt so soft and she smelled so good. Becky closed her eyes and began to enjoy the moment.

Ruby backed off as a line of saliva connected their lips. Ruby smiled with satisfaction. “Mmmm welcome to the team. I just needed you to say yes.” Ruby wiped her lips with her thumb. Becky looked at her friend with a mixture of shock and lust. She couldn't believe she just kissed her. Ruby pulled out her phone and showed Becky a photo of her and Ruby with two other girls . All of them were gorgeous like out of a Victoria’s Secret magazine.

“We’re all sisters now.” Ruby said.

Becky fell to her knees and grabbed her stomach. She opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out. “Yea this part hurts but it’s worth it” Ruby said as she watched her friend transform. Becky’s skin got hotter and hotter until it all became burnt as if she was set on fire. The black ash fell off her body as her skin became perfect with no blemishes. Becky still grasped her stomach as she felt her muffin top decrease in size. The new strong core felt good as Becky quickly felt her new abdominal muscles.

Ruby felt her lips puff up as they swelled as if stung by bees. The lips turned dark red as her lips opened to let out a moan. Ruby’s eyes rolled back as she felt the sexual energy growing in her friend. Ruby’s eyes glowed as she licked her lips as she heard the moans of Becky’s pleasure. Becky’s hips widened as her sweatpants stretched and lowered down her body. Becky whipped her head back giving into the change as her breasts firmed up and grew. Becky instinctively grabbed one breast and squeezed. She screamed in delight as her ass lifted better than any BBL could provide. She felt her thighs get thicker as her body screamed for sex. Her messy black hair got brighter and more alluring.

Becky began to gyrate as if pleasing a man underneath her. She continued to moan as Ruby felt juices flow down her thigh. The last of the changes happened as Becky’s stature grew a bit gaining height and length as her arms and legs grew. They remained slender and feminine but also toned and strengthened. Becky looked up and met the eyes of her maker. She grinned as she saw her changes were turning Ruby on. Becky’s eyes glowed as the floodgates of her inhibitions were opened. Becky felt no anxiety and shame. The heavy cloud of depression left her mind as thoughts of revenge filled in. Becky stood up as purple flame covered her grease covered shirt changing into a black crop top. The gray sweatpants morphed into black yoga pants that hugged her curves.

“Becky you look…mmmmph” It was Becky’s turn to interrupt Ruby as she kissed her friend. She began to feel her body as their passion ignited. The sexual nature of the two succubi could not be extinguished. After 30 minutes of intense sex the two women collapsed on Becky’s bed naked. “Wow that was the best sex I ever had…and with a woman too!” Becky exclaimed. Ruby grinned as she caressed her friends body. “Mmm it’s how we eat and your urges now are much more inclusive let’s say.” Ruby replied looking at her good friend.

“So when you said Mark is wrapped around your finger?” Becky asked with a wicked grin. Ruby nodded and said “he’s my sex slave.” Becky giggled, thinking of how she could use her power. “Hmmm sounds like a plan.” Becky said before kissing Ruby once again

3 days later

Traci was walking to Bill’s dorm when she could hear the distinct sound of Jim’s groans. It seemed to be coming from his room. She pushed open his door and gasped. The groans got louder. Traci found Bill on his bed, sweating profusely. His hands were tied to the bed posts and a blindfold covered his eyes. A strange but unbelievably beautiful woman was sitting on his stomach, riding him vigorously. Traci shouted to announce her presence. The woman turned her head toward Traci and smiled seductively. “Oh hey Traci! Bill said so much about you. Too bad his love for you couldn’t keep his dick soft when he met me.”

Traci felt tears building in her eyes as she saw the woman still riding her boyfriend. “Bill! What the fuck!” Traci yelled as she felt the betrayal and anger well up inside her. The woman on top of Bill looked up at Traci and smirked. Bill kept groaning as if he didn’t hear Traci. “Awww poor Traci! Looks like your man is mine now and he doesn’t want to stop. I am too… sexy… to mmph Resist!” The Raven haired woman trembled as she came on Bill’s cock. Bill moaned in pure ecstasy as he came. “I think I’m going to be sick.” Traci said, feeling nauseous. The woman slid off of Bill and rubbed his member as it squirted more seed.

“Karma’s a bitch ain’t it?” The strange woman asked, her voice dripping with venom. Traci felt a cold chill run down her spine as she glared at the stranger. She couldn't believe this was happening. Traci sobbing ran out of the room and slammed the door. “Uh oh Bill. Looks like Traci will never forgive you for this.” Becky removed the blindfold from Jim’s face revealing his red tear filled eyes. Bill finally was able to speak again. “Becky… please. I love her … don’t do this.” He begged.

“No, I’m actually finally doing what I want and it feels … so … fucking good. Hmmm seeing Traci like that makes me need another round… or two. Get hard for me big boy and no talking until you make me cum again.” Bill felt his body obey her words as he was unable to talk again and his cock sprang to attention.

Meanwhile at the cafeteria

Marsha, Ruby and Stacey sat at their usual table. Marsha’s eyes glowed. “Ladies, our sisterhood is complete now. It’s time to meet my… our maker.”

#beautification #transformation #f2f transformation #breast expansion #bimboification #origin stories #ass expansion #beauty is power #succubi #mind corruption

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