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luveline · 2 days

Note

would you ever write about hotch pining after r because he thinks she’s interested in someone else but then she confesses to him that she’s only ever had eyes for him 🥹

You’re shocked Hotch will let them look at him, honestly. When was the last time you saw Hotch receive medical attention? He doesn’t seem happy about it, suit jacket folded in his lap, his shirt cut in three places, most noticeably the left sleeve.

“His arm is definitely broken,” Spencer tells you.

“Do you think he’ll let me give him some comfort?” you ask, the two of you with your arms crossed against the side of the second ambulance, where Morgan undergoes a similarly reluctant checkup for his bloody temple.

“No. You can always try, though. He’ll appreciate the effort.”

You ready yourself with a deep breath and begin the short walk. It feels long then suddenly over at the same time. The only thing between you and Hotch now is a shoe’s width and the EMT securing his temporary sling.

“They’re making me an emergency appointment,” he tells you.

You fight the urge to rub the toe of your shoe into the ground. “Are you in pain?”

“No. They gave me tramadol.”

Hotch pushed you hard out of the way of a brawl and took blows meant for you in turn. He never lets you get hurt in the field. At first you’d assumed him to be the overprotective boss, and careful of women in the team, but you’ve caught on now that his motivation wells from somewhere deeper.

Hotch loves you. He won’t tell you. You have no idea why.

The EMT says she’ll return and takes her leave. You nod to the patch of metal flooring beside him, legs too tired to keep standing, and Hotch moves over to leave a gap between you suitable for turning into. You sit down with a sigh. Face to face, this close, you can see the different colours of his iris and the scar under his eyebrow clear as day.

“You okay?”

“Are you?” he asks with nothing more than a single short nod.

“I’m worried about you,” you confess. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. I can take care of myself, okay? I don’t like you getting hurt in my place.”

“I’m your Unit Chief.”

“If it were Morgan, you wouldn’t have pushed him out of the way. If it were Emily. And we both know I can hold my own.”

He doesn’t look away from your face. “I know.”

You’re finding it hard to want to scold him. You love him, too. You appreciate what it takes for him to take a fight that was meant for you, and the sentiment behind it. You’d quite like for him to protect you, just not at work. He could glare down potential suitors or argue with people who are rude to you at the grocery store. He doesn’t need to do your job for you.

You raise your hand tentatively to his face, ignoring his confusion as you rake the hair that falls against his forehead back up. “It’s getting a little long for you.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Me too. I keep meaning to do so much stuff but we get home and I get to my apartment and I just sleep for days.”

“I wish I did something that sensible.”

You curl your fingers over his shoulder. Without his suit jacket, you can feel the solidness of his muscle and soft tissue clearly. You rub your thumb in a half circle.

“Why don’t you sleep much? I wish you would.”

His eyes flare momentarily. His only tell, a flicker of movement you can’t miss. He’s surprised by something, your question, maybe your tone. “I do sleep.”

“Not enough.”

“No, I guess not.”

You press your cheek to his arm. Can’t help yourself. He’s this strong, stern guy, so used to trying to save everyone that he barely looks after himself, and it makes you sad to think he’d love you and not want to tell you, because why wouldn’t he? Something in him must stop him from acting on it, but that something isn’t in you, not anymore. “Can’t believe you got your arm broken for me,” you murmur, lips to his shirt. You let out a breath, feel the warmth of it pass onto his skin and his following shudder.

“It wasn’t purposeful.”

“No? That’s good.”

“I would do it again,” he says. “I thought you’d be with Morgan.”

“Morgan’s a big boy.”

“As opposed to me.”

“I want to be here with you. I’m worried about you.” You press your face further into his arm, scared to say it even though you know it’s returned. “I care about you so much, ‘n’ you never let me show it.”

“That’s not true,” —his voice climbs higher— “I thought… You and Derek are close.”

“He’s my friend, Hotch. It’s not like that.”

Hesitant, tender all the same, Hotch’s uninjured arm slinks around your side to hold you, to bring you closer to his side where you’re hiding. You’re much too old for this, and still you have to confess.

“I don’t like him,” you say.

“As opposed to me.”

You laugh at his repetition. Too embarrassed to say anything more on the subject but wanting to cement it in his head, you raise your head and your hand at the same time, knuckle to his jawline, nudging him to one side. You lean up and kiss his cheek.

“Please don’t push me out of the way again,” you say.

Hotch smiles at you, a proper, soft-eyed smile. “I won’t.”

It’s an obvious lie.

“Maybe when we go home we can nap together,” you suggest, heart slamming considering the innocence of what you’ve suggested.

His fingers cradle your side. “You want to?” he asks carefully.

“You can finally get some rest.”

He closes his eyes, resting his face against yours.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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reallyromealone · 3 days

Note

Okay. So I know you said I can request more Hazbin Hotel content, but I have multiple ideas! Like maybe Angel Dusts little brother comes to visit, and everyone sees how protective Angel is of him. Especially since he appears to be on the more innocent side. But the reason for his visit is because he's recently engaged to oue favorite duck man maybe? (Cue to literally everyone freaking out over the announcement. Especially Charlie and Angel)

Title: weddings

Fandom: Hazbin hotel

Characters: hazbin hotel ensemble

Fic type: story

Pairings: Lucifer x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, fluff

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Angel was confused when he saw his brother walk in, dressed in soft and cute clothes "dusty?" (Name) Called out as the tall spider demon practically rushed towards (name) "what're you doing here?" He fretted over his brother, he always worried over him as he was a little ditzy "you haven't been hanging around shady people have you?"

The others looked confused as angel checked over his brother who smiled at him sweetly "no! I'm actually here to invite you to my wedding!" (Name) Beamed as angel looked startled "who?!" Who tricked his sweet brother who didn't even deserve to be in hell! (Name) Swooned slightly at the thought of his fiance "oh he's really nice! We have lots in common!" (Name) Said dreamily "he's also super strong! He's gonna be here soon! He Knows someone here!"

What?

Now he was real confused.

"Baby!" (Name) Squealed as... Holy shit.

"Dad?!" Charlie was incredulous as she saw her father get hugged by Angel dusts brother, the taller spider demon cuddling the king of hell "dusty! This is him! Luci this is my brother!" (Name) Introduced happily as Lucifer connected the dots, Charlie met (name) a few times and was happy her dad found love again but how she didn't connect the spider demon to be angels brother.

Charlie and angel were shocked to say the least as they were both technically related now as (name) and Lucifer sat on the couch, Lucifer letting (name) cuddle him "we met when I was singing at the club! He gave me the cutest little duck! And we hit it off ever since!" He gushed as everyone processed that Angel was now technically royalty by association.

"I'm glad you're happy, bro" angel said softly as (name) beamed, the white spider thankful (name) could be kept as safe as possible.

When the two left Charlie and angel looked at each other and just processed the ordeal.

"Huh, never thought I would see the day they both were quiet" husk said teasingly as he poured them each a glass of whiskey.

#male reader #x male reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel x male reader #lucifer x reader

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discotitsposts · 14 hours

Text

strawberry lipgloss🍓

spencer reid x reader (this one’s for my strawberry lovers)

spencer can’t keep his senses off reader when she wears a lipgloss that drives him insane (wrote this since i got a new strawberry lipgloss today)

-🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—

It’s 8:04 am when she walks into the BAU.

Spencer’s working on some files when he notices you are 4 minutes later than your usual time of arrival. He furrows his brow at this strange abnormality but shrugs it off quickly. Maybe you just had woken up late. Your alarm didn’t go off perhaps. Or maybe there was traffic. No, that couldn’t be it. Not from the route you go or at that time. That area doesn’t get congested at all, if ever.

In any case it wasn’t Spencer’s business. Hotch’s yes. Not Spencer’s. You had no need to explain yourself to him. He wasn’t your boyfriend no matter how much he wished and hoped he could be.

He hadn’t been one to believe in wishes but his last birthday it was what he’d wished on the candles while you’d smiled at him sweetly. You were doing that now. You smiled when you saw him every morning. He adored it.

As you approach his desk you chime, “Good morning Spencer!” in a sing-songy voice per usual.

You get closer and drop a small bag on his desk. That’s when he notices. You smell like a fresh baked strawberry pie. He knew you normally wore a sweet vanilla perfume. You were wearing it today, he could smell it. Something was different though, there was a hint of strawberry.

Unfortunately for him, you walk away and sit down at your own desk. You scent disappears with you. Spencer frowns and opens the bag you’d given him. The smell of the contents immediately hits his nostrils.

A chocolate strawberry donut!

You notice him pick up the donut. A smile forms on his face.

“Thanks!” He takes a bite.

“Delicious!”

“I knew you’d like it. It’s both of our favorite flavors!”

Spencer smiles at you. You were always doing kind gestures like this for him. You did kind favors for a lot of people, but for Spencer it felt so special when you did things for him. It’s why he was so in love with you. He goes back to his files happily eating.

Minutes later, you’re staring at him debating whether or not you should ask him a question. You decide to ask. You stand up and walk over to him. He smells the sweet strawberry scent radiating off of you and looks up.

“Yes?” He’s happily staring at you with those big brown eyes. Getting lost in the sight of you.

“Could you please do something for me, Spencer?”

“You can do whatever you want to me…” He says without thinking. He quickly corrects himself with, “I mean what do you need me to do? For you.” He clears his throat. “Anything.”

You reach into your purse and pull out a small red tube. “Could you put this on for me please?” You open the tube. “I lost my mirror.”

“Of course.” He takes the tube and his hand shakes a little. He squeezes the tube a little so the product comes up and presses the applicator onto your lips. He spreads the product over your mouth being careful to not get it anywhere but your lips.

The scent was just like strawberry jam.

When he’s done, he can’t stop staring at your shiny lips. He can see his reflection in them.

Oh, how he’d like to press his own to yours and never let go. The strong scent of strawberries, now dominating his nostrils, wasn’t helping.

Unconsciously, he leans in ever so slightly. You notice and start to lean in too. Following his movements. You’re just centimeters away from touching each other.

You would have too, if JJ hadn’t walked in and announced a new case.

When you meet in the conference room, Spencer sits next to you. He keeps inhaling your scent.

When you’re on the jet you’re reapplying your perfume, you spritz it behind your ears, on your wrists, and your ankles.

Spencer watches in awe. You put the perfume bottle back in the bag and pick up the strawberry lip balm again. He’s awaiting you to ask him to reapply it for you since you’d told him you’d lost your mirror. You reach for something else inside your purse. You pull something out.

A small pink mirror.

You hadn’t lost it. Spencer smiles to himself.

“Just me or does she smell extra good today?” Morgan observes and motions his head towards you. Spencer nods in agreement.

“Yeah…”

You’re curled up reading a book when Spencer sits next to you. You look up at him and give him a warm smile.

“Nice mirror you got there.” He smirks. Confidence was spewing off him all of a sudden.

“So why did you tell me you lost it?” He asked, he knew the answer but wanted to hear you admit it. He suddenly had the urge to make you squirm.

“Um, you’re a profiler shouldn’t you know?” You retort.

Spencer stares at you for a second, unsure how to respond. The corners of his mouth curl into a smile when he thinks of something.

“Well then, I’ll tell you why, you wanted me to notice that wonderful scent of strawberries. You wanted me to look at your lips and want you so badly my bones hurt. Anyone who knows you, knows, you never leave home without your mirror.” Spencer innocently smiles.

“Why did you play along if you knew?”

He leans in closer and whispers in your ear, “I can’t resist you. Or your lipgloss.” He smiles and goes back to where he was sitting before. You stare at him in shock.

Morgan pats his arm and says, “My man!”

Then Spencer does the unthinkable and pulls out his cell phone, a very rare occasion. You feel a twinge of jealously at the thought he might be texting someone else, when your phone dings with a text.

Spencer: Would you like to have dinner at Tony’s with me this weekend? Like as a date?

You: I’d love to, but why didn’t you just ask when you were over here?

Spencer: Look up.

You look up and see Morgan teasing Spencer about whispering in your ear. He’s pretending to hump a pillow while Hotch is holding his face in his hands in disbelief.

“Ask her out kid! Strike while the iron is hot!” Morgan then motions spanking. Hotch looks like he is on the verge of tears.

You laugh and go back to your text thread.

You: I am so sorry.

You look over again and see Spencer smiling at his phone.

Spencer: Can’t wait for our date! Make sure to wear that strawberry lip gloss.

You: Of course, xoxo💋

the end, for now

i might do a part two about the date not sure yet

tags 🍓-

if you’d like to be tagged u can comment a 🍓

@whoisspence

@starshinegarcia

@fictionalobssed

@exoticisles

@in-another-april

@gallifreyan-idiocracy

#criminal minds #spencer reid #mgg #matthewgraygubler #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer x reader #strawberry girl #strawberries #strawberry #strawberry lipgloss

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dixons-sunshine · 2 days

Note

Hiii! First of all i love love love your writing i get so excited every time i see you’ve posted ❤️ i was wondering if i could request a daryl x fem!reader where they’re just chilling out watching a silly cartoon and he’s finally relaxing and happy to be with his girl, maybe it could be young daryl it’s up to you. Thank you for producing such good work for us all to read!!! 🫶

Selfish | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: When you woke up and walked into the kitchen, you didn't expect to find your mom sitting there with a man you didn't know. And you certainly didn't expect the man to go off on your boyfriend when you didn't even know who he was.

Genre: Fluff, teeny bit of angst.

Era: Pre outbreak.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive themes.

Word count: 2.7k.

A/n: I hope you don't mind, but I already had an idea for my next installment to this universe, and thought this idea would work well with an idea I already had. To be honest, this isn't my best work and I feel like the plot is all over the place, but I hope you like this nonetheless!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

The moon was shining brightly in the night sky, surrounded by the twinkling of millions of beautiful stars. Crickets were chirping outside in the grassy areas and owls were hooting from their spots in the trees. All the inhabitants of the trailer park were in their homes, tucked in and ready for a good night's rest.

Everyone except you and Daryl.

“M'tellin' ya, this cartoon ain't all tha'. S's'posed to be 'bout a talkin' dog helpin' reveal the culprits tha' ain't actual ghosts, yet him and tha' green shirt guy still believe in ghosts. Even after all the mysteries they solved, they still believe in 'em. S'fuckin' ridiculous.”

You rolled your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest and letting out a huff, albeit a playful one. “So you're telling me, real or not, that if a guy who looked like a ghost was threatening to kill you, you wouldn't run?”

“Nah, I'd run fer the fuckin' hills, I ain't denyin' tha',” Daryl stated, lazily picking at the dead skin on his thumb. “But c'mon, these guys are s'posed to be professionals. They unveil criminals tha' dress up as monsters fer a livin'. Ya can't be a fuckin' pussy durin' somethin' tha's yer job.”

“Okay, then, smartass,” you replied playfully, lightly shoving his shoulder. You giggled when Daryl wrapped his arm around you and pulled you tightly against his side, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “How about we watch that roadrunner cartoon you like?”

Daryl's eyes lit up. “Yer serious?” he asked, excitement lacing his tone.

You nodded and nuzzled your head into his chest, flicking through the channels with the remote until you found the aforementioned cartoon. Daryl pressed a kiss to the top of your head, before wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on top of your head. The two of you sat there, cuddled up under the blankets, simply enjoying the serene moment.

Daryl couldn't believe how lucky he got with you. After nearly a year together, the two of you were still going strong. The so-called "honeymoon phase" that people said wore off after a few months into the relationship didn't falter between the two of you. What you and Daryl shared ran much deeper than just a phase. The two of you worked hard at your relationship, making compromises and being open with one another. Daryl wasn't the most open person, but for you, he tried. Likewise, there were things you didn't normally do that you did for Daryl—you weren't the most keen person on catching fish, but you did it for him, just because he liked it. Your love for one another ran deep, so it was unlikely for the happy, giddy feeling to wear off. That spark between the two of you would never burn out.

Your laugh suddenly echoed through the trailer, soon followed by Daryl's own chuckles at a particularly funny scene in the cartoon. Daryl looked down at you in awe, marveling at how beautiful you looked. Your eyes sparkled in the light that the television emitted and your smile was more radiant than anything he's ever seen before.

Yeah, Daryl Dixon knew he was the luckiest guy on the planet.

Before he could fully register what he was doing, Daryl cupped your cheek and turned your head to him, pressing his lips against yours in a firm, passionate kiss. You were surprised at first but ultimately sunk into the feeling of his lips on yours. The kiss soon escalated from loving and sensual to heated and lustful. Daryl picked you up and helped you onto his lap, quietly groaning when you lightly grinded your hips against his, putting a pleasurable amount of pressure against his growing erection.

You pulled away slightly, resting your forehead against his. “Do you want to take this to my room?” you asked in a whisper.

You giggled when he stood up while holding you firmly against him, not saying anything. You wrapped your legs around him, and he walked the short distance to your room, kicking the door shut behind him when he reached it.

The cartoon playing on the television was forgotten of for the rest of the night.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Soft, feathery light kisses all over his face, shoulder blade and arm was what Daryl Dixon awoke to the next morning. Blinking away the last remnants of sleep from his mind, he turned over in the bed and locked eyes with you. You looked like a goddess to him at that moment, the sun gleaming through the window giving you a golden-like aura. You were wearing your shorts from the prior night, but you were wearing his shirt instead of your own. However, he didn't complain.

“Good morning, handsome,” you greeted him, giving him a cheerful smile.

Daryl gave you a lopsided smile in return, adjusting his head on the pillow. “Would be a better mornin' if I got a kiss,” he spoke in his raspy morning voice, sending shivers down your spine at the sound.

Complying with his not-so-subtle request, you leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to his lips. You pulled away after a few seconds, bringing your hand up to brush through his hair.

“I'm gonna make us some breakfast. Throw on a pair of pants and come meet me, okay?” you told him, your hand lingering on his cheek for a moment before withdrawing.

Daryl nodded as he watched you stand up, adjusting the sheets around him as he became painfully aware that he was as naked as the day he was born under them. “Alrigh',” he started, his eyes slowly trailing over your form, appreciating the way you looked in his shirt. “Ya look good, sunshine.”

“Thank you,” you replied, sending him a smile, before finally making your way out of your room.

You closed the door behind you and made your way to the kitchen, but stopped in your tracks when you saw your mom sitting at the table with a man you've never seen before in your life. The two were engaged in a heated argument, not even noticing your presence.

“For the love of god, Henry! You can't just come here and demand to see her after seventeen years of nothing! We've been doing just fine without you or your money, so you can leave, just like you did all those fucking years ago!”

“She's my daughter too, Cecilia! I have every right to see her.”

“Mom?” you questioned confusedly, finally making your presence known.

Your mom turned her head to you, her eyes widening in horror. However, before she could say anything, the man called Henry stood up, sending you a strained smile.

“Princess?” he questioned you, taking a step towards you.

You took a step back, unexpectedly making contact with someone behind you. You stumbled but a familiar pair of arms encircled you, steadying you. You turned your head and locked eyes with your boyfriend's beautiful blue ones.

“Wha's goin' on?” he asked you, slightly standing behind you to hide his bare upper body from your mom's and the unknown man's view. He was suddenly painfully aware that his scars were on display to a person who he did not know, and that made him want to shrink into himself and disappear.

Instantly picking up on what he was feeling, you moved to stand in front of him. You eyed the man standing in front of you warily, sending questioning glances to your mom.

“Mom? What's going on?” you asked her, feeling extremely uncomfortable under the man's intense stare. It wasn't uncommon for your mom to see you and Daryl walking out of your room in the morning—she was well aware of why he stayed over most of the time—but it certainly was the first time that she had an unknown man with her in the morning.

“Who's this?” the man asked, a slight bit of anger lacing his tone. “What the fuck are you doing sniffing around my daughter, boy?”

“What?!” you exclaimed in surprise, your eyes widening. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?”

“Sweetheart, please calm down. I can expl—”

“Shut up!” the man cut her off, turning towards you. “I come over to meet my daughter and this is what I walk in on? A fucking orgy? You couldn't even find someone better than some redneck?”

Daryl visibly stiffened. He ducked his head to avoid the man's harsh glare, uncomfortable with the way he dissected him with his eyes. The man had taken one look at Daryl and decided that his worth was nonexistent.

“Leave him out of this,” you warned him, snapping out of your confusion. Nobody had the right to target Daryl, especially not some man who, if he was your father, ran away seventeen years ago. “You don't get a say in who I date or not. And if you really are my father, what the hell makes you think that you can come in here after seventeen years and expect me to welcome you with open arms? What makes you think that you get to come into our home and play the man of the house? I don't know who you are, and after the last few minutes with your behaviour, I have no interest in getting to know you. You can go to hell.”

“Henry,” your mom jumped in, lightly shoving him back. “Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops.”

The man glared at you and your mom, before shifting his attention to Daryl again. “Well,” he started, scoffing and turning around to leave. “Like mother, like daughter. Seems like trying to get knocked up in high school is a hereditary gene.” He paused before turning back to you. “If you're smart, you can come find me at that motel near the bar. I'll be staying there.”

“Get the fuck out!” your mom yelled angrily, pushing him out.

Shutting the door once the bitter man was gone, your mom turned to you and Daryl. She looked at you sheepishly, a deep frown on her face.

“Guys, I'm so sorry,” she apologized sincerely.

“Mom, what was that?” you asked, allowing Daryl to pull you into his side, your boyfriend instantly recognizing your anxiousness. “Was that really—?”

“Your father?” she finished for you. “He is, but I really wish he wasn't.”

Your breath got caught in your throat. Unwillingly, you felt a lump form in your throat, the recent play of events turning your whole world upside down. For years, it had just been you and your mom. Your father was practically a ghost story, only being regarded as your "sperm donor". Yet there he had been mere minutes ago, standing in front of you. You felt overwhelmed, and you could feel your throat constricting.

You had to get out of there.

“I have to go,” you weakly mumbled out, withdrawing from Daryl's hold and pushing past your mom and heading out the door, walking in a familiar direction.

“Sweetheart, wait!” your mom called after you, but to no avail—you were already gone.

Daryl placed a hesitant hand on your mom's shoulder, bringing her attention to him. “I'll get her. I know where she's goin'.”

Your mom offered him a weak smile. “Thank you, Daryl,” she thanked him, vaguely motioning over to the laundry hamper at the other end of the room. “You left one of your shirts here the other day. It's in there.”

Nodding, Daryl walked over and grabbed the shirt, slipping it over his head—he was glad that his scars were once again hidden from plain view. Sparing your mom one last glance, Daryl ran out of the trailer and in the direction where you had disappeared.

A few minutes later, Daryl ended up by the river. There, just as he had predicted, you sat, your knees brought up to your chest, your bare feet resting in the cool water. You were staring straight ahead, clearly deep in thought.

“Figured I'd find ya here,” Daryl spoke softly as he sat down next to you, successfully gaining your attention.

You turned your head to him, tears falling from your eyes. The sight broke Daryl's heart. It was extremely rare to see you crying; you were always so happy and never let anything get you down, so the whole ordeal must've been too much for you.

“I'm sorry,” you brokenly whispered out, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“Fer wha'?”

“For leaving so abruptly,” you explained, tracing mindless shapes and figures into the sand beneath you with your finger. “You were probably so uncomfortable. I know how you feel about people seeing your scars and I just left. I'm really sorry, Daryl.”

It amazed Daryl how, even when it was something that didn't directly affect him and quite obviously took a huge toll on you, you still worried about him more than yourself. You were selfless and hated making just about anything about you, and even though Daryl loved that about you, in that particular moment, he wanted you to be selfish. He wanted you to make this about yourself. He wanted you to cry, to scream, to throw things. He wanted you to be mad at what happened. He didn't want you to worry about him in a moment like that.

Daryl wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his side. “Dun' worry 'bout me,” Daryl whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple. “How are ya feelin'? And dun' try and pull tha' "m'alright" shit with me. I know ya better than tha'.”

You inhaled deeply and sniffled. “I just... Never expected to meet my father like that. I've always dreamt of meeting him, y'know? And now that I have, I don't know how to feel. On one hand, he's my father and I wanna get to know him, but on the other hand, he's clearly a fucking dick and he needs to fuck off. And my mom... Oh, god. I left my mom. She probably thinks—”

“S'okay,” Daryl reassured you, wiping away the tears that had fallen from your eyes again. “She ain't mad. She's jus' worried 'bout ya.”

“I'm overreacting,” you mumbled, shaking your head in disappointment at yourself. “A few harsh words with that man and I bolt. It's ridiculous.”

“Listen to me,” Daryl began, pulling back and cupping your face in his hands, gently forcing you to look at him. “Yer not overreacting. Everythin' tha' happened was unexpected fer ya. Ya jus' met yer dad in the worst way possible and ya were overwhelmed. Nobody blames ya fer needin' a moment to process everythin', alrigh'? Ya deserve to take a moment fer yerself, a moment to be selfish. Ya hear me?”

You nodded, allowing the tears to fall freely now. Daryl pulled you into a proper hug, allowing you to sob into his shirt. He didn't care that your tears were soaking his shirt—his only concern was you. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, rocking you from side to side until you calmed down.

“Thank you,” you whispered after a while, sniffling softly.

“Ya dun' have to thank me,” he told you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “M'always here fer ya, jus' like ya are fer me.”

“I love you, Dar.”

A beat of silence passed, until Daryl whispered into your ear. “I love ya too, sunshine. I love ya so fuckin' much.”

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beatopia-films · 3 days

Text

FARMERS DAUGHTER part i !

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings : strong language and just cuteness!!

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━

“chris!” nick yelled at his brother. “stop using snapchat filters on the goats.” he continued, watching as chris kept taking photos.

“look how cute they look.” chris laughed, showing his brothers the result.

matt listened to his brothers bicker as he took over filming the vlog. “do you think if i asked nicely, they’d let us feed them?” he asked.

“they fucking better. i mean, look at their little faces.” chris responded, pointing at the goats.

“okay, i’ll be back in a sec.” matt told them, walking off and looking for someone who worked there.

he walked around the farm for a while but there was no luck in finding anyone. “guys i think i’m lost.” he spoke unsurely to the camera.

the sun was shining in his eyes, causing him to squint as he walked through the grass. he couldn’t see where he was going when all of a sudden he knocked into something…or someone.

“shit, i’m so sorry.” he immediately apologized to whoever it was. “no, it’s okay!” the voice of a girl caught his attention.

he looked over at her and his heart raced. she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in his entire life.

“did you need help with anything?” she politely asked with a smile on her face, putting down the bucket of water she was holding.

matt was completely speechless. he couldn’t even form words. “oh…uh…yeah. i just wanted to know if it would be okay to feed the goats?”

“absolutely!” she replied. “come with me and i can set you up with some bags of food.” the girl gestured for him to follow. “i’m y/n, by the way.” she introduced herself.

“i’m matt.” he copied her actions and followed behind her.

the two entered a small cabin like building and he watched as she picked out the correct bags before handing them over.

“you can feed all the goats except for ronald, he’s the blonde one. he will definitely try to steal the food but it upsets his stomach so we tend to give him a different diet.” y/n explained to the brunette who nodded attentively.

“okay. no feeding ronald. got it.” he let out a small laugh. “so, do you live here or is it just work?” matt questioned, lowering the camera slightly.

she was caught off guard by the sudden question as nobody usually would ask her about herself. “my dad owns this place, so i grew up here.” y/n told him.

“that’s really cool.” matt responded. “i’d love to work with animals, it seems therapeutic.”

“it is very peaceful here. whenever i feel stressed, i just go to the animals. my horse, cowboy is always there for me when things get tough.” she found herself opening up to him.

matt was taken back by this but thought it was nice to meet someone who could talk about their feelings with no shame or embarrassment.

“your horse is called cowboy?” he asked y/n, finding it quite humorous.

“yeah, it’s kinda strange but i named him when i was 13 so i guess it’s getaway-able.” she nodded with a smile.

“no, i think it’s interesting.” matt reassured her.

“would you like to meet him?” y/n offered, nervously pulling at the hem of her white dress. “he’s just over in the stables.”

“i’d love to, that’d be great.” he immediately agreed, ready to walk with her already.

the two made their way to the stables where all the horses were staying. it was surprisingly quiet as the farm was quite busy during the summer holidays.

y/n walked over to a dark haired horse and stroked it softly. “this is cowboy, he’s getting old but he’s still cute.” she grinned, feeding him some hay from her bucket.

“you’re right, he’s cute.” matt agreed, standing next to her. “you can stroke him, he likes the attention.” y/n told him, watching as he stroked the horse slowly.

matt was really starting to like this girl and hoped to see her again some time. he finally grew the confidence to ask her out.

“i was wondering if maybe you-“ his moment of confidence was broken when a familiar voice called out. “there you are!” chris yelled. “we’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

the truth is, matt had completely forgotten about coming with his brothers. “sorry, i got caught up.” he quickly apologized to them.

“why does that horse have better hair than me?” nick suddenly asked out of nowhere, causing everyone to laugh.

“you can borrow a bottle if you’d like.” y/n joked. “he wouldn’t mind sharing, would you cowboy?” she looked up at the horse.

“i’ve actually been meaning to find a new brand.” nick continued to speak. “did you ask about the goats?” he looked over at matt.

“yeah, i did. we can feed them all but not ronald.” matt explained, memorizing y/n’s words from earlier.

“who the fuck is ronald?” chris asked, giggling to himself at the name. “dude sounds like he was born in the shakespeare era.”

“he’s the blonde one.” matt told them. “we can’t feed him because of his stomach. the food doesn’t sit right with him.”

y/n smiled as he spoke. he actually remembered her exact words. she hoped that maybe she’d see him again.

a few minutes passed by and the brothers were feeding the goats with smiles on their faces. she watched from afar as she started to clean up the stables a little before closing time.

“chris, you’re not supposed to feed ronald!” matt yelled at his brother as the goat munched on the food happily.

“i forgot, sorry.”

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#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #youtube #matt x reader #x reader #fem reader #fanfiction #fanfic

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bigfatbimbo · 13 hours

Note

Human assistant reader is working at her desk while her boss is hiding underneath, tucked between her legs 🤤

Oh how I love my human!Vox x assistant reader au (more, more, & more)

But imagine like you’re working in your office, and Vox is under your desk eating you out. He’d rather not do something so demeaning as be on his knees for his secretary, but here he was. He was feeling particularly needy, and he was still in control, right? I mean, he was technically getting what he wanted.

The scandal that would come out of anyone seeing him like this, lapping you up eagerly, so it’s better he hide under your desk.

See, the ‘submissive’ position was practically required. It didn’t mean he, a very strong competent man, was at all submissive. Not even when he was moaning and grinding slightly on your foot, as his tongue explores your folds.

Or when your hand slipped away from your paperwork, and tangled itself in his hair, breathing out the words “Good boy, Vox.”

So maybe he was a little less in control than he wanted. He found, however, as he humped your leg like a dog and groaned into your pussy, fingers tightly gripping your thighs, he forgot to care.

#hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel smut #dom reader #hazbin hotel x you #inbox open

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toxophilitis · 1 day

Text

Spread, Auntie, Spread

CHAPTER TWO

All through the remainder of the afternoon Lori felt this attraction toward her niece. She became aware that Janice was a little tease, something she had not noticed before. Janice had lovely dark eyes and dark hair, and her eyes flashed impishly, flirtingly. She used her young body in such a way that caused Lori to find it difficult to keep her eyes off the pretty girl.

At six that evening, she took them to a fast food diner, and allowed them to order whatever junk food they wanted. She sat with them in a corner booth, chatting with them about school, their summer vacation, everything that came to their minds. She could still feel, or sense, the sexual radiation coming from Janice, and she turned her attention to her nephew.

She found that Stevie glanced at her frequently, looking at her in a way that was much different than six months ago. His eyes, similar to his sister's, showed a knowledge beyond his tender years. Lori sensed that her nephew was sexually attracted to her.

She couldn't understand it because Karen was so strict in her moral teachings of the children. Perhaps they were rebelling. Maybe they were feeling things between their legs that overruled what their mother tried to teach them. Maybe Stevie had discovered his cock, the fun he could have with his prick. Maybe he was jacking off, coming in wild pleasure. Perhaps her niece, Janice, had found that her little cunt was something she could use besides to pee with. Maybe Janice, too, played with her sugary cunt.

The thoughts gave Lori a warm tingling sensation between her thighs. She wondered what Stevie's cock would look like, if he had hair on his balls. He even wondered if it was possible for his little prick to come like a man. She tried to visualize his strong young body naked, his cock sweetly hard, with his young balls dangling below.

She imagined what Janice would look like naked, her burgeoning tits succulently shaped and so pretty, with pink little nipples that begged to be licked and sucked. She tried to imagine what Janice's little pussy would look like, if she had hair, and the sweet swell of her young, shapely ass.

Lori knew she had been the black sheep between her and Karen. When she had been as young as her niece, she had slipped into her sister's bed and tried to feel her up. It had not been desire to play with another girl; it had been a childish curiosity. But the fact had become known to their parents, and Karen from then on, had little to do with her.

Then her wild, wanton sexual desire became more pronounced and she had been caught many times with boys in the garage, in their cars, everywhere. Karen had gotten married and quickly had Stevie and Janice. Then five years ago their parents were killed in an automobile crash and Karen and Lori were the only surviving members of the family.

At that time Karen finally began seeing and talking to Lori again. She began allowing her to babysit with Stevie and Janice. Her husband, Bob, had always been friendly with Lori, and Lori felt that Karen hated that.

"I want some more ice cream, Aunt Lori," Stevie said, breaking into Lori's thoughts.

"Sure, honey." Lori smiled at him. "You get whatever you want. Janice, you want any more?"

"No." Janice shook her head, her curls fanning the air. "I'm full."

After Stevie finished his second ice cream, they walked the short distance back to her house. She walked between them, holding their hands, listening to their chatter.

"I think I need a shower," Lori said once they were in the house. "You two watch television for, a while, okay?"

They sprawled on the floor side by side, and Lori gazed for a moment at them. Janice's dress was up almost to her ass, and again Lori felt that deep throbbing of pleasure inside her cunt.

She was stepping from the shower when she saw Janice in the bathroom. "What are you in here for, Janice?" she asked, stepping back behind the curtain and peering out at her niece. "Why don't you use the hall bathroom?"

Janice stood near the sink, looking at her aunt with huge innocent eyes. But those eyes sparkled with innocent wickedness. Lori waited for an answer, but what she got instead was something of a shock.

Janice lifted her dress to her waist and Lori gasped.

Janice had taken her panties off.

Lori stared at the girl, seeing her slim thighs and hips. There was dark fuzz on Janice's cunt, not very thick but dark and inviting. She looked with hot eyes at the pink lips of her niece's cunt when Janice parted her legs and arched her cunt forward.

"Do you think I'm pretty, Aunt Lori?" Janice asked in a low, strange voice.

Lori moaned low in her throat as she looked at her niece. Janice was so desirable, standing there with her dress up to her waist, her sweet, honeyed cunt revealed.

"I wanna see you, Aunt Lori," Janice said in that unusually sensuous voice. "Let me see what you look like."

Feeling a compulsion come over her, Lori stepped from the shower curtain and onto the carpeted floor of the bathroom. Janice gazed at her nakedness, seeing her shapely, pointed tits. Then she dropped her gaze downward, fixing her eyes on the thick curls of Lori's pussy.

Without further words, Lori found herself dropping to her knees before her niece. Her hands reached out and she ran her fingers lightly over the smooth thighs of Janice. Her eyes burned hotly as she gazed at the sugary lips of Janice's cunt, seeing the tip of her cunt peeking from those succulent, moist fields. Lori ran her hands behind the girl and felt her swelling little ass, then caressed up the insides of Janice's thighs. She made a soft gurgling sound as her hand cupped the tender young cunt, feeling the moist heat of her pussy against her palm.

"Oooo, that's nice, Aunt Lori," Janice crooned. "I like to be felt up this way."

Lori ran her hand back and forth, rubbing the slightly quivering cunt of her niece. She could feel moisture smearing her palm, and then she stroked the tiny clit gently.

"Wanna kiss it, Aunt Lori?" Janice mewled softly. "Do you wanna kiss my pussy?"

"Oh, baby!" Lori groaned. "I'd love to kiss your pussy!"

With lewd giggles, Janice propped herself up on the sink, spreading her slim legs wide, the cheeks of her ass barely hanging over the rim of the sink. She looked down with hot, excited eyes at her aunt.

Lori gazed at the cunt of her niece, licking her lips hungrily. Hers was such a sweet-looking little cunt, with cunt hair along each lip, thicker just above her cunt. She could, see Janice's clit pulsating, see the moisture glistening there. Lori leaned forward and kissed the inner thigh of her niece, feeling the heat and sweetness of her flesh. Janice giggled, squirming on the sink as she gazed with excited eyes down at her kneeling aunt.

Lori began to lick along the creamy thigh, working her way slowly into that steamy crotch of Janice. The desire to taste that pretty cunt was overwhelming, and her own pussy was throbbing as if on fire. She cupped Janice's small asscheeks in both her hands, and pressed her lips to her hot cunt. Lori kissed Janice's cunt moistly, her open lips pursed. She tasted the moisture of the girl's cute pussy and found the taste sweet to her tongue.

"Oooo, baby!" Lori whimpered in a thick voice. "Oh, you're so sweet! So sweet!"

"Lick me, Aunt Lori!" Janice urged in a thick whisper. "Lick me between the legs! I love it when I get licked!"

"I'll lick it, honey!" Lori hissed. "I'll lick you good! Ohhh, I can't help it, Janice! I've got to lick your little pussy!"

She ran her tongue up and down the fine slit, wiggling it over Janice's tiny, hard clit, bringing mewls of delight from Janice. Lori held her small asscheeks tightly as she opened her mouth and ran her tongue from the bottom of Janice's cunt to her throbbing clit. Then, unable to hold back any longer, Lori stabbed her tongue into Janice's tight, hot pussy, fucking it back and forth like a hard cock.

Janice squealed and giggled with pleasure, twisting her crotch into Lori's face. Lori closed her eyes as she tongue-fucked Janice. It was the first time she had actually tasted a cunt, and she found Janice's pussy delicious. Her tongue, very long, fucked deep into the clinging heat of Janice's cunt, fucking back and forth as her chin pressed against that pretty ass, her upper lip smashing the hardness of her niece's clit.

She withdrew her tongue and licked up and down each cunt lip, thrilling Janice until she was gurgling with ecstasy. The more Lori licked, the more moisture that seeped from Janice's cunt. Lori found her face becoming smeared, coated, and she had to swallow often as her mouth filled. The scent of her niece's cunt was fresh and sweet.

Her tongue fucked in and out. Lori was thrilled at they way the young girl's cunt, clung to her tongue, tight and hot and slippery. Lori's fingers dug into the girl's firm, shapely little asscheeks as she buried her face into Janice's sugary cunt. She lapped and licked and sucked and tongue-fucked the girl's steaming cunt furiously, her own pussy boiling like never before.

The bathroom was still filled with steam, and she felt her niece's slippery thighs as they closed about her face tightly. Janice was squealing in delight now, her sounds becoming louder, and Lori became afraid that Stevie might hear and find them. But at the moment she couldn't have cared less. The taste of Janice's sweet young cunt was all that mattered to her, and the sensations that were flowing through her naked body, the way her own cunt was throbbing, dripping until the insides of her thighs were slippery.

Lori's tongue probed deep, and she felt the squeezing on it by Janice's slippery, almost hairless cunt. She flicked her tongue back and forth, knowing her niece was very close to coming. She began to fuck her tongue in and out furiously now, whimpering softly as her own pleasure seemed to swell between her thighs.

"Oooo, Aunt Lori!" Janice squealed. "You're gonna make me come! Ooooo, golly, I love it! Lick my pussy faster, Aunt Lori! Oohhh, I'm gonna come!"

Lori's tongue flicked in a frenzy, as deep as she could make it go. She felt the tightening of Janice's young cunt around her tongue, the flexing waves of heat.

When Lori felt Janice's cunt convulse about her tongue and heard her long, drawn-out wail of ecstasy, her own pussy exploded. Her naked ass clenched up as she experienced a powerful orgasm. Her tongue fucked in and out wildly as Janice came, and the girl, was grinding her cunt into Lori's face, holding the back of her head tightly, her thighs scissoring about Lori's face.

When Lori felt her niece relax, she withdrew her tongue and licked almost daintily at her still-throbbing cunt lips.

After a few moments, Janice slipped from the sink and, as Lori stood up, wrapped her arms about her aunt's waist, hugging her tightly. As she hugged Lori, her mouth closed over one of Lori's long, hard nipples. Lori ran her hands up and down her niece's back. Janice slipped a small hand between the two of them, ran her fingers through Lori's cunt hair, and began to rub her aunt's clit.

"I loved that, Aunt Lori," Janice whispered around the nipple. "I loved it so very much. You kissed and sucked my pussy good. You'll lick me again, won't you?"

For a moment Lori felt a shudder go through her. Then she heard herself reply, "Oh, yes! God, baby, that was good! I've never kissed a girl that way before, either... and I loved kissing your pussy!"

Janice giggled as she pulled away. She pulled her hand from between Lori's thighs, lifted it to her face, and began to lick at her fingers. Lori looked at her niece, the top of Janice's head coming only to her chin. Her eyes widened as she saw Janice lick her fingers, then she smiled. "Why, you little... you're a little hot-ass, aren't you?"

"I guess so," Janice giggled. "I know I love being kissed on my pussy. If that makes me a hot-ass, then I guess I am."

Lori hugged her niece tightly against her naked body. "You're sweet!" she said.

Janice squirmed in her aunt's arms, her lips again sucking at her nipple. "We're gonna be here a whole week, Aunt Lori," she said. "That means you can lick my pussy every day."

"Oh?" Lori shoved her niece away gently. "And what am I supposed to do? God, it made me so hot, licking you!" Janice giggled.

Then she walked from the bathroom.

Janice entered the bedroom naked, going to the dresser and brushing her hair. Somehow, she was not surprised by what had happened. She had sensed the sexuality of her niece from that afternoon when she had seen her on her hands and knees. She smiled at herself in the mirror.

She turned and started for the bed and almost walked into her nephew.

"Stevie!" she gasped, trying to cover her tits with one arm and cupping her cunt with the other.

Her nephew grinned at her, but he was looking over her shoulder. Lori looked behind her and saw he was looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her naked ass was exposed to his eyes.

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appleblueberry-pie · 15 hours

Note

Lately I was thinking about what a story would be like where a yandere Satoru believes he is in control of the relationship, but the reader ends up destroying him both mentally and physically when she finds out about his plans.

Maybe he was a little more stronger than you. No matter how much you trained or practiced to become stronger. Stronger, more resilient, less caring of the damage you done to the people you fought, even if you stopped holding back, he'd always be stronger. You might've created a humongous gap between the people you used to be on the same level as, but even with how far you came, Satoru Gojo would always be at least 5 steps ahead of you. In every way.

But for some reason, it feels like he's just letting you do this to him. You can't tell if he's acting like he can't get out of those special cursed-energy infused binds you tightly tied him with, or if he's really stuck. He wouldn't just....let you have him that easily, right? He can't be that dumb.

Either way, it's his fault he's like this now. You don't know why he decided it would be good to do something as stupid as 'wiping out all possible competition' behind your back. Especially with the competition being your friends, loved ones, people you used to know that you know don't deserve that treatment, and etcetera. It's unacceptable.

"This is ridiculous." You mutter to yourself. Satoru grumbles underneath his gag and stares up at you tiredly. He looked like shit. Which is what you wanted. Bounded, damn near naked, extremely sweaty, useless, and under your control.

"Why can't you just...be normal?" It was funny to say out loud, but then you really started getting upset. "I just wanted a regular shmegular boyfriend. Someone who can take care of me when I want him to, someone who's unpredictable and fun, who likes to talk, someone strong and handsome, someone who can fuck me well, you know? But when I said unpredictable, I didn't mean a fucking killer."

You walked up to him and smoothed his wet strands of hair that stuck to his hot and sweaty forehead back. He rested his head on your leg, dampening your dress. You wanted to go out tonight, but you saw him coming up to the steps of your shared house with blood splatter on him. And here he is now.

"Ugh, now I have to find someone else." You joked. That made him sit up and begin raising his voice, still muffled. You scoffed and yanked down the gag. "You wouldn't fucking dare leave-" Hot white pain overtook his left cheek as his head snapped to the side. You had backhanded him, effortlessly taking the words out of his mouth. Before he could even recover, you grabbed his hair by the scalp, pulling his head up with anger seeping into your fingertips, making him scrunch his eyebrows in pain. "Say it." ".........."

"Why aren't you saying anything? Didn't you have something important to tell me?? No?? Don't ever fucking raise your voice at me, boy. Do you hear me?" You shove him off of you and cursed under your breath as you made your way to the basement door. "You better be right there when I come back. No dinner tonight. You already pissed me off enough." And with that, you slam the door and left him in the dark and cold basement floor. Tied and alone with his own thoughts.

When you opened the door, he was laying pathetically on the ground. No longer sweating, but you could see the ropes digging into his skin in the prettiest way possible. He looked so good when he was in pain. Those red marks surrounding his skin, the irritation seeming to please your eyes. He was asleep when you came in. And when you suddenly cut the ropes off, he woke up painfully. His joints were stiff, the dull pain and sharp burn from the ropes along with the overall relief of the tension had him groaning. He slowly moved his limbs freely for the first time in about 12 hours.

He looked up at you, who was comfortably in pajamas and watched you smile down at him. "Good morning." Satoru didn't know whether to answer or not, but still grumbled one back, which turned into him coughing due to dehydration. You turned back around and left him sitting there once more, but left the door open this time. "Go shower. And brush your teeth. I don't know if I want to give you breakfast or not, but that entirely depends on your behavior. So if you are good, I might give you what I made. If you keep it up, we could probably do something fun afterwards...?" You shrug and try to ignore the sounds of scrambling behind you. "You ruined my night yesterday, so I was just frustrated the whole time was out. But I don't think you're patient enough to be able to have a normal breakfast with normal conversation."

More croaking from attempts of speaking come from him behind you and you roll your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, just go do what I told you." And for the first time ever, he thoughtlessly did what you said, in hopes of meeting up to your expectations.

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level-up-12 · 3 days

Text

Gold Rush, Red Flush

720 word count Regulus tells James what he thought about him during their school years. [Post war AU/established relationship]

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“Do you think,” James busies himself, worrying the blue fabric of Regulus’ sweater. They’re sprawled out on the living room couch, it’s late afternoon. They had nowhere else to be. “Do you think in another universe, we could’ve realized this earlier?” “What, like when we were kids?” Regulus frowns. He’s looking down at James’ fingers, like they’re something worth staring at. “Well, yeah, I suppose.” “I-uhm, well.” Regulus turns his head away towards the window. The light catches the crown of his hair - unruly waves grown too long. “What, is it that difficult to imagine?” “No. Quite the opposite.”

That makes James pause. “Reg, did you- is this something you thought about before?” He stays silent. James is subsequently intrigued. He laughs. “You have! You have! Don’t tell me - on the quidditch pitch?” James is entertained by that little scenario for a little bit more than what is appropriate. Regulus glances back at him. The intensity of his stare. This wasn’t- it was real. “Oh.” James simply says. “Yeah.” Regulus replies, soft. He’s close. So close. Did James know how fragile this was? “What, since…the beginning?” “No, I’m not that pathetic.” Regulus almost smirks, but no, his expression was still twisted. “When, then?” James swallows. His heart in his throat. “Probably when I was fifteen.” His face is resting on his right hand. His eyes search James’ face - what was he looking for? “God, I despised you for the longest time. I thought you were the driving force behind everything wrong in my life.” “Strong start,” He laughs lightly. James is afraid of this conversation. This is - it’s heavy. He could feel it settling on his chest. Drowning him. “Yeah, well, you weren’t. I wish it was that simple.” Regulus whispered. He was floating again. “All that hate fizzled into something that pestered me every day till I got myself to look at it.” “So, what did you find?” he finds himself whispering too. “You.” They both pause, startled brown meeting grey. James thinks could live in this moment. Burrow himself deeper and deeper till the stale air of a lazy Saturday is what sustains him. Fragile. “I-it’s- I think I-um,“ “Oh god, I’ve broken you.” “No, no. It’s just. I never thought about you like th- I mean, you were my best friend’s-“ “James, it’s fine. I know I was being delusional,” “Hey, I didn’t say that.” He paused, he needed to get this right. “Did I notice you? Of course I did, you were gorgeous- are, I mean. I just, you always looked like you were two seconds away from killing me,” He groaned. This was a disaster. “I was, for the longest time,” Regulus’ voice has dropped down to a whisper again. His hands touch James’ hair. Barely there. “Then I realized I just wanted to touch you,” He does, lowering his hand and eyes to his lips. His fingers just grazing them. James’ breath hitches. This was impossible. “So, where do we meet?” “What?” “In that universe. I bet you’ve given this some thought,” he can’t help doing this, he slips into this role so easily- as easy as breathing. “I am not entertaining this, James.” He’s smiling, a small little thing. “Okay, then I will. I think, we meet every Sunday after Quidditch practice.” He looks into Regulus’ face. He really could see it, disheveled and sweaty and frustrated after practice. Crashing into James in ways neither of them understood. “The locker rooms are usually abandoned. Everyone would assume we were each doing individual drills, or something. Maybe fifth year - Merlin, I was so frustrated at you. For so many things, the least of which had to with Gryffindor lagging behind.” He’s saying too much, this was too much. “I- that year, I thought so many times about walking up to you. I always wondered.” Regulus says. It rests between them, uneasy. The what if-s. The space between love and hate. The emotion that spills out of him catches him off guard. Regulus is still close. His eyes look more alive than ever. Alight with all that could’ve been. “And then what?” James whispers. “And then we wreck it all to pieces.” Regulus whispers back. James almost gasps. “Is that what we’re always meant to do?” “Maybe.” “How about this universe?” “I’m still deciding.”

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originally published on Ao3. Part of a larger work but I thought it worked quite well on its own!

#james potter #regulus black #jegulus #sunseeker #starchaser #james x regulus #regulus x james #jegulus microfic #marauders microfic #jegulus fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards

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aeonknight · 1 day

Text

People keep talking about Fantasy High Senior Year and what it might be. Here's my hot take. I don't think we need or should have a Senior Year. The bad kids are at the ends of their arcs, they don't have anywhere to go, really. Everything that's been set up has payed off. There's nothing to do in Senior Year.

Fabian is living up to his father's legacy and is an amazing sword fighter and is living up to his mother's by being a bard, plus he's accepted Gilear as his step dad. Whats his arc for season four? Having younger siblings? That's not a strong enough foundation for a season arc.

What about Fig? She's found love, she's found something she REALLY enjoys doing in life and a fulfilling existence, to the point where she doesn't even want to go to Agueforth anymore and Emily has expressed a ton of interest in retiring the character.

Riz's arc is all about learning to let go and to let himself drift away from the rest of the party, and he's done that by now. He's realized that always trying to be the best is not good for him via seeing himself in Kipperlilly. He needs a break, not another season of hard adventuring.

Kristen is all about recruiting people to the church fo Cassandra. When they inevitably defeat Ankarna and she's restored, the two religions are very likely to merge. At that point she'll have converted Fig and she's well on her way to recruiting Bucky and maybe even Buddy by the end of the season, and she knows now that a church with only a few dedicated members is possible, and she's seen in Wolfsong that expanding it is not always for the best.

Adaine's arc was about breaking away and living independently from her parents, learning to be an adult. She's fully done that. She's employed as the Elven Oracle full time, she's reconnected with her sister, and she's found a new family to love. Forcing her to go through another season when she's already grown up makes no sense.

Finally, Gorgug. Gorgug's arc has been about learning how to handle his rage since the very beginning, season one episode one. He's done that. He is the first person in history to be able to concentrate on spells while raging. He's learned to harness his rage and turn it towards protection instead of harm, and he's recently made the connection with his parents even stronger.

None of the Bad Kids have anywhere to go. Even though they have futures, stories to tell, those stories aren't going to happen in high school, and they're probably not going to happen together. There is no world in which the Bad Kids need a senior year, and I suspect that the ending of Junior Year will see them all either quitting school, graduating early, or graduating normally and going to college in an epilogue. They'll stay friends for life, maybe. Or they'll grow apart because who you are in high school doesn't define you. But they'll all live fulfilling and joyous and happy lives, finally free and self actualized.

#fantasy high junior year #dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high spoilers #fantasy high junior year spoilers #fantasy high senior year #i guess

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outromoony · 3 days

Text

"Let it once be me"

Wolfstar microfic | Word count: 984 | ttpdmicrofic

@my-castles-crumbling

Sirius was crying in his bed.

Remus could hear him quietly sobbing beneath the covers. He usually couldn't, not when the other boy was always so careful to cast silence charms when he was having a bad night, but he could hear him now, and the sound of it was threatening to tear him apart.

Remus had never seen Sirius cry, at least not openly. Sirius never let him see him in that state; he always tried to run away from him to James or even Peter to comfort him when something happened. It was usually family matters, or at least that's what Remus thought, since Sirius would never open up to him. It hurt him, knowing that Sirius was in any type of pain, knowing that anyone had the power to make him look so vulnerable, and it hurt him that Sirius never trusted him with his secrets the way Remus trusted Sirius with his; he trusted him blindly with his secrets, with every single thought that made him who he was. Yet Sirius seemed to be breaking apart too often lately, and he couldn't even stand to look at Remus right in the eyes when it happened.

He got out of his own bed and followed the sound of Sirius's tears. They stopped instantly, and Remus knew Sirius must have heard him.

"Sirius?" Remus whispered close to the curtains. A noise close to a choke came out of them, and then Sirius emerged from behind, not meeting Remus's gaze.

"Sorry I woke you up," Sirius sniffed. Remus knew that the reason he was trying to look in the opposite direction was because Remus could see perfectly in the dark, and he didn't want him to see his red eyes and swollen face. "I was just—"

"What's wrong?" Remus asked before Sirius could finish, trying to be as gentle as possible. What if the reason Sirius never talked to him was because he was bad with words? Because he was too cold? "Sirius, please talk to me."

"It's nothing, just..." Sirius swallowed, closing his eyes. "I will just talk to James in the morning."

That was like a punch in the stomach to hear, because Remus was right there, yet Sirius preferred to wait hours to speak with James about it, and if he couldn't, Remus knew he would prefer not to talk about it at all.

"I—am I too harsh? Do you think I wouldn't understand? That I would judge you?" Remus couldn't wrap his mind around what Sirius might think of him, and maybe that was his own fault for trying so hard to keep a facade for everyone else. "I know you don't trust me, and that's fine; you don't have to, but just please—"

"Fuck, Remus, I trust you with my life," Sirius finally looked at him, and the only thing Remus could see in his beautiful blue eyes was pure sadness. "I trust you with everything I am; this has nothing to do with trust."

"Then what?" Remus almost shouted, almost forgetting it was three in the morning and the rest of his friends were sleeping peacefully. "Why do you always push me away when you're feeling down? Why would you never talk to me? Why is it always James, Peter, or even sometimes the girls? Sirius, please, just... let it be me; let it once be me."

Sirius was looking at him with wide eyes, and when he finally spoke, his voice sounded so small it almost made Remus cry.

"It has always been you," He said those words as if they were the secret of the creation of the universe, as if that was the answer Remus had been waiting for. "It has always been you; everyone knows it but you."

"What are you—"

"You're the reason I try to be strong, the reason I try to stop the tears from falling and the heart from aching, because you once told me I was the bravest boy you've ever met, but I am not, Remus, not anymore, and I cannot stand to look at you when I am a bloody tangle of sadness for something so fucking stupid."

"Siriu—"

"And you're so... you, and in everything I do, in every decision I take, there's always your name in the back of my mind, and I want you to love me so fucking bad, but how could you ever do that when I'm just a pile of disaster and sadness?"

"I love you," Remus responded almost immediately without even thinking about it, meaning every word. "I love you—the brave you, the sad you, the disaster you. That's not changing, Sirius, ever; there's nothing you could do or say that would make me feel different about you; you dont need to pretend with me, to hide. I thought we stopped hiding from each other a long time ago."

"You just—you don't understend, Remus; you would not be saying this if you knew how I feel about you. You don't love me the way I love you; you don't—"

"I do," Remus whispered softly. He bent down slightly to remove Sirius's hand from his face and took it between his own, kissing his knuckles. "I really fucking do."

Sirius held his breath the moment Remus spoke those words, his hand almost shaking when Remus lifted it to touch his lips. His eyes were mostly full of something like surprise and disbelief; but behind all of that, Remus could see love—oh, so much love.

"So..." Remus spoke when Sirius didn't. "Can it be me? Please? Just this one time."

And then Sirius finally smiled, a tender expression crossing his face. “Maybe it’s time we let it be us.”

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star-sim · 14 hours

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california dreamin' ☆ jay park

☆ non-idol! jay x fem! reader ☆ summary: in the final months of your relationship, jay reminisces the taste of beach waves, southern california, and you. ☆ genre: fluff, angst (ish), 80's au + timeskip, this is set in southern california, classic rich boy x alt girl ☆ warning(s)? brief mentions of poor parenting ☆ word count: 1.6k words ☆ this is my entry for @flwrstqr and @cupidhoons polaroid love event! based off of "california dreamin" by the mamas and papas, love the retro cali aesthetic

"Do you want to run away with me?"

Jay pulled the salted caramel apple lollipop away from his lips, the sour taste lingering on his tongue as its crystalline texture rolled against his tastebuds. His brows crashed together.

"What?" he eyed you quizzically, but you kept your eyes trained on the deep blue water that swayed against the coast.

"It's obvious that we're not wanted here," you said plainly.

Jay sucked in a sharp breath, his hand jerking out to clutch your shoulder. "That's not—"

"There's no point in denying it," you shot him a look. Your next words came out wry and bored, almost like you're annoyed, but Jay could tell that you were feeling the exact opposite. "You know damn well that your parents couldn't care less about you, and my old man's always too busy to remember whether or not I left the house."

The corner of your lips quirk up, a dry grin spreading across your face as you reached across to smack Jay's arm playfully. "No one will notice if we're gone."

Words bled onto his tongue, threatening to spill out, but Jay held them in.

After all, you were correct.

Jay met you in the summer of 1987. You were both sixteen, and Jay recognized you from his sophomore chemistry class— how could he miss your smudged eyeliner and black nail polish? The difference this time was that you were the cashier at the surf shop next to his dad's private beach.

Maybe it was the way you chewed pink bubblegum boredom, giving him a deadpan expression as he spluttered out your name, or maybe it was the fact that even in ninety degree Southern California weather, you still managed to wear a black bikini top with skulls and rhinestones on it, but Jay found himself frequenting that surf shop a little too much that summer.

Yes, it was his fourth time coming into this surf shop in one afternoon.

Yes, he didn't need to take his time looking at each and every shell necklace on the display next to the cash register.

Yes, he knew all about surfboards and most definitely did not need to ask for your assistance.

Yes, he knew that you were staring at the water droplets rolling down his chest as he ran his hand through his wet hair, his sun-kissed skin glistening under the golden sunlight.

Yes, he knew was staring at your bikini top, but any man in his position would do the same.

And yes, he knew that you knew that he knew this.

That didn't stop Jay, though.

If there was something that his absent father was able to do for him, it was to teach him to never have shame. That's why Jay shamelessly walked into that surf shop every day, just to see you.

It took a few (multiple) tries before you agreed to go on a date with him. He brought you flowers, necklaces, rings, handbags, all kinds of luxury items, but you ignored him each time.

It wasn't until Jay noticed the bracelet on your wrist— it had a frayed tassel and seashells of different sizes, some of them chipped and others burned by the sun— that he realized what he should bring you instead of expensive gifts.

Alas, a clumsily-made bracelet composed of mismatched seashells that was just a little too big for your wrist. When Jay presented it to you, a proud grin on his face, it must have been the first time that he'd ever seen you smile.

Since the summer of 1987, you and Jay agreed to keep your relationship secret, because people always had stuff to say. You were going strong, and what made summer the best was that you could freely love your boyfriend without the pondering eyes of your peers.

Two years later, it was the summer of 1989, and you and Jay were now sitting on the ledge before the beach. In a few weeks, summer would end, and you and Jay would be apart. But this time, apart for longer than you'd ever been. You were staying in California for university, but Jay's parents were sending him out of state.

Soon, it would be autumn, and you would have to say goodbye to not just Jay crawling through your bedroom window, sneaking out to the local beachside diner, slipping love notes into each other's lockers, and making out behind the bleachers, but also running your fingers through his chlorine-bleached hair and feeling the warmth of Jay's body as the two of you napped in the sun.

Jay looked at your face. Under the orangey sunset, he could see the light reflecting off your eyes. With the scent of peach in the air, and the glow of your skin, Jay's chest felt heavy.

How could he possibly leave you? How could he leave you when you tasted like California?

Yeah, it would be hard to say goodbye to you.

It would be hard to say goodbye to you, and nobody else.

Jay's eyes fell to the bandaid on your palm.

He knew you'd think the same about him.

There was a reason that you and Jay got on so well.

For one, it seemed like Jay was the last thing on his parent's to-do list. His only purpose was to carry on the family name and live out their legacy. But if neglecting their son and being absent in his life was their legacy, he didn't want any part in it. There was a reason that Jay spent every day of summer at the beach, not at home.

As for you, Jay hated your dad. He'd never forget all the times you ran to him, tears and smudged eyeliner running down your cheeks. You insisted that you were okay, but Jay had to bite his tongue so hard that he bled to keep his mouth shut.

In a few weeks, Jay will be the Park family's heir studying out-of-state, and you'll be you from California.

But for now, it was just Jay and you, sharing a lollipop at the beach, basking in the humid night air and listening to the waves.

You gave him another sly grin. You repeated your question. "Do you want to run away with me?"

You always liked to smile like that when you were upset about something; it was your way of concealing your feelings, but Jay knew you better than anyone.

Jay's thought about running away before. Many times, actually. And he's thought about running away hand-in-hand with you more times than he could remember.

Jay slid his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. He pressed his lips to your forehead.

"You know we can't," he said against your forehead, though the way that he held you close said otherwise.

"Says who?" you hummed, resting your head on his strong shoulders, taking in the scent of seaweed, sea salt, and Jay's faint cologne.

Jay stayed silent. He knew that answer to that question.

Says no one.

"Seeeee?" you dragged your syllable, a cute lilt in your voice. You slithered your arm around Jay's torso, poking his side. "Nothing— no one— is stopping us."

Jay chuckled, squeezing your waist twice. "Where would we go if we ran away?"

With you gently clutching his jaw, pressing wet kisses along his skin, you breathed, "Anywhere we want."

You cupped his cheek. In the winter, his skin was paler, but in the summer he was a golden honey tan. His cheeks, as a result of being in the sun nearly every day for the past three months, were littered with blotches of brown, red, and pink. With a gentle finger, you slowly dragged it against his skin, connecting each blemish to each other with invisible lines.

"What about Houston?" Jay rasped, leaning into your touch. "I know you've always wanted to go there."

"Well, where do you want to go?"

Jay thought for a moment. "Either up north to Seattle— or maybe London— What about NYC?."

You stared at him quizzically, your eyes narrowing and your lips turned downward; you always did that when you were hiding something.

"What?" Jay nudged you.

"I dunno," you shrugged. "I feel like those places are just so uncharacteristic for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

You shrugged again, your bottom lip jutting out. "I thought you were a sunshine typa guy." Your eyes flickered up to him. "All those places are so gloomy."

"I mean," your boyfriend sucked in a sharp breath. "I guess. Maybe I just want some change. California is beautiful, but...."

He trailed off.

"But?"

"I want to explore more, yanno? Get to know places outside of California."

You didn't press any further.

The rest of the night was quiet, only the taste of disappointment, longing, and the salted caramel apple lollipop lingering on your tongues.

This was all but a memory to Jay.

He gazed outside the window, tuning out the voice of yet another woman in his living room.

Jay ended up studying in Seattle, just as his parents had wanted. It's been years since he left California. Him and you ended up breaking up on good terms for the sake of distance, and he eventually lost contact with you. He met a few other women, tried out dating them, but it never ended up working out.

There was no place else like California.

It seemed like everywhere else, all the leaves were brown, and the sky was gray. Dreary, gloomy, and full of clouds, so unlike the sunny and golden California.

It took Jay a long time to realize that the reason he longed for California again was not because of the constant smell of sunscreen or sound of synth music pervading the streets. It wasn't the laughter that seemed to bounce off the walls or the vibrant color-grade over every memory in his mind.

He longed for California because he longed for you.

You were California.

And for a while, he'd be dreaming of California.

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #park jay x reader #park jay #park jongseong #jay fluff #jay fic #jay angst #park jay fic #park jongseong x reader #park jongseong fluff #star-sim #vanya-writes

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eva-stator · 17 hours

Note

I think I can try to answer anons questions about the characterizations. Apologies in advance because this is LOOOOOONG.

First things first, to be in the SAS means more than just being a soldier. The British SAS are the literal top of the top, cream of the crop of their special forces. They are compared a lot with DEVGRU (seals) and Delta Force. Less than 1% of armed forces members can pass selection and complete their training. They are all, in their own ways, very hardened individuals. They’re all extremely intelligent in several skills, and equally competent. (This isn’t to stroke off the special forces. They are not superhuman and are never immune to dying from their own mistakes or pure bad luck. It’s extremely dangerous to be in counter terrorism or do raids like they do, and a not insignificant amount die of dumb mistakes or unavoidable circumstances. But they’re not to be fucked with either)

Soap is sniper, demolitions expert. These require math skills and chemical knowledge. He’s intelligent, stoic sometimes but more spirited. He wants to help. He gets angry when bad things happen, and he seems to really care about civilians. He’s got a strong sense of right and wrong, and voices his opinions always. He pushes buttons and boundaries, but he’s no braggart. Equally, he is intense. His humour is actually kinda dry and teasing, banter style humour. He’s not actually very silly.

Ghost is more ambiguous. He’s more rugged and detached. More introverted. He only starts joking with soap in alone, more than halfway through the game, so his trust is gained through time and effort. His humour is dry, sometimes dad jokes and sometimes fucked up jokes. Overall, he’s emotionally detached and goal oriented. He’s got a bit of the sillies though, just a taste.

Gaz is an extremely important main character. He was vital in all games, including the first mw reboot game in 2019, his character was made before soap and ghosts were. (Which is why his deliberate exclusion is a goddamn travesty). He’s spirited and strong, his skills of resistance to interrogation, escape and evasion, as well as VIP protection means he’s an intelligent independent mind. While injustices anger him, he’s got a level head and can cede to reason and keep that anger supressed, as well as be an important voice of reason. He can also be sympathetic and guiding, as seen in the mission where he guides a civilian through an extremely dangerous situation to safety.

Captain price is a staple character for the series. He’s confident but also slightly unhinged. He’s experienced, maybe a bit detached, he doesn’t give a god damn about consequences unless he gets what he wants or completes his goal. He will throw every law out the window. He will abandon basic morals and principles. He’s extremely dangerous and not to be fucked with or questioned. Hes called John “war crimes” price by the fandom for a reason. He has his more gentle side, but it’s rare and he will only show it to people he seems worthy of it, like Farah Karim or Kate laswell. He saves people but he does it roughly, he never seems to handle civilians with kid gloves, and he’s kinda rough and detached from them. He’ll save your life, but he’ll probably break your arm in the process and definitely won’t apologize for it. It’s important to note he knows what he does is fucked up. He knows people don’t like it. He gives people a way out, lets them choose if they really want to fully jump in the mud with him. He also smokes cigars with car windows rolled up. Absolutely evil action. He’s also my favourite and I love him in a way that you love a grizzly bear.

Obligatory Kate mention. Kate is a cia agent who is basically the leash that keeps John from acting out too hard. She reins them in, keeps them informed. She’s level headed and a quick thinker. She knows how the game of war is played, when and how to play by and within the rules and keeps everyone from breaking them in ways that could spiral out of control. She also knows when to let them do shady shit, and how to get them out of the messes they get themselves into. She is a very strong character, mainly in mind but also in body, and will get her hands dirty if she has to.

TLDR these are deceptively complicated characters, as in, it’s easy to mistake them as pretty surface level. They’re also easy to mistake with their fanon characterizations, which while fun, are often headcanons that the fandom has taken and run with. They’re also, not always very accurate depictions of the characters. If you wanna write them right, you gotta watch and listen to their mission dialogue.

These are generally simplified introductions based on what I observed playing the games.

Tip and trick, if you’re writing a dialogue line, imagine the characters voice saying it out loud. Say it out loud yourself. If you can fully hear the character saying the line, it’s probably a great line. If you can’t picture them saying it, tweak it until you can. This helps me a lot.

Thank you :)

Also love the kate mention

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circusofthelastdays · 23 hours

Text

mage hand & graded papers

warnings: MDNI, NSFW, post epilogue, afab fem reader, inappropriate use of mage hand, gale uses mage hand to get you off while grading papers.

You traipse into Gale's study, a thin robe adorning your body, loosely tied. Hair falls over your shoulders, the strong scent of your lavender soap wafting through the house. A bath would help, was the assumption in your mind. Maybe some relaxation would quell the ravenous need for your husbands touch, you thought.

Yet here you stand, the aching feeling of arousal pulsing in your core as you lean against the doorway to his study. You eye him from behind, debating on whether or not you would bother him. It's clear that he's busy- he's been working for hours. You stand there watching him, hunched over his desk, reading glasses on and quill in hand. Papers are scattered across his desk, ones you can only assume are his students.

Even the sight of him like this has your current arousal ever growing, and your face heating up. "Gale, are you almost done?" you ask him, knowing that if he turns around to face you it'll be clear why you want to know.

"No where near, I still have about twenty papers to grade." He answers you, not even bothering to look away from the paper he is marking up with red ink.

Your lips curl into a frown, "oh, that's fine- I'll just uhm... I'll go cook dinner or something I suppose."

You step back from the doorway, not wanting to disturb his work any further. Still, you can't help but stand there and observe him a bit longer with a yearning look.

Gale turns from his desk when he hears the defeat in your voice, pulling his reading glasses down the bridge of his nose to get a good look at you. He sees the flush on your face, your half tied robe, and the way you try to subtly squeeze your thighs together while standing there.

"Come here, my love." He says, directing you with a pointed finger to come to his side.

Without hesitation, you go to his side, expecting that you'll be getting what you so desperately crave. Gale, however, has other ideas. He gently grasps your arm, and pulls you down onto his lap.

"Sit here with me, for just a bit?" he says, placing a chaste kiss on the back of your neck after. He picks up his quill again, dipping it in red ink, and looks back down at the papers he is grading, paying no mind to you fidgeting on his lap.

So you do as he asks, despite how much you desire to do more, to have him touch you in anyway. And oh, what you would give to have him take you against his desk... you can't help but squirm in his lap at the thought of it. You sit there silently for awhile, watching him grade papers and listening to nothing but his breathing and the scratching of his quill against paper. He places more chaste kisses on your neck and shoulder every so often, effectively worsening your arousal, and you know damn well he's doing this on purpose.

At least twenty minutes have passed before you hear him utter anything, but you can't quite catch what is was. "Hmm? What was that?" you ask, trying to get Gale to repeat what he said.

"Oh nothing, dear," he says, with a cheeky smirk on his face that you cannot see. "just mumbling about these papers."

A moment passes, and then you feel a light brush against your leg. However, you think you must be imagining things. Both of Gale's hands are hard at work above the desk. You feel it again, more apparent this time as it trails up your thigh, and pulls at your robe.

You quickly look down, and realize what's happening. A shimmering, blue, and sheer hand is the culprit. The incantation for mage hand, that must've been what Gale uttered.

"Gale?" you speak his name in a questioning tone, facing heating up at the implications of this situation, "what are you doing?"

"Isn't this what you wanted, my love?" He says, controlling the hand to pull open your robe so your body is on display for him, proceeding to trail the sheer hand over your breasts, and down to your hips.

The hand ghosts over your wet cunt, collecting some slick- a shiver runs down your spine, and your head falls back onto Gale's shoulder. "You're a fucking tease."

"Am I?" he replies, this time making the hand touch you with more purpose. It glides over your folds, before hooking two fingers inside whilst simultaneously circling your clit with its translucent thumb. "I'm just giving you what you crave."

"You know damn well this isn't what I had in mind..." you start to complain, but the hand speeds up, expertly touching you exactly how you like it. Your lips part, a slew of needy whimpers and whining spilling out of you, as your poised nature comes crumbling down.

"Hush, now. I'm still working." Gale chides, in a tone that is clearly meant to taunt you further. However, he himself makes no move to touch you, he only adjusts the reading glasses on his face and goes back to grading the papers on his desk. Yet, the translucent hand continues its ministrations, so his concentration is not entirely on his work, no matter how much he pretends it is.

You try to be quiet, really, you do. Though the situation at hand makes it incapable to do so, especially since the mage hand seems to double down on it's efforts the more you squirm and choke down moans in attempt to be quiet. He's messing with you, threatening your resolve and challenging your ability to follow instructions.

Gale's left hand strays away from his work, and wraps around your waist to keep you from moving around, "Stop squirming, dear. You're distracting me."

It cannot be helped though, you're too far gone. Pleasure is building in your core as the mage hand doesn't seem to let up, merely moments away from tumbling over the edge. You're practically panting with need, the occasional moan of your lover's name included in the lewd sounds that fill the room. You can't tell what's more sinful, the sound of your wetness or the muffled sounds of ecstasy that slip off your tongue.

Gale chuckles quietly at your muted whimpers and feeble attempts to stay quiet for him- he dares to hush you for a second time. "Shh, you're okay..." He says, but there's something about the way he says it, his tone sensual, and with a sloppy kiss placed against your neck. It has you positively reeling.

The cord tightening within your stomach finally snaps, and the pleasure becomes overwhelming. Gale's name falls off your lips like a chant, like it's the only word you can remember. The translucent hand continues its onslaught, working you through the waves of your orgasm, Gale holding you still on his lap until your body is spent. He groans at the sight of you, unable to ignore his own arousal now.

The mage hand finally dissipates out of existence, and you think you're done, as you lean back onto your husband's chest.

"ah, ah-" he chastises you, before hastily pushing the papers to the side of his desk, as well as the ink that spills across them. The spilled ink is a problem for later, he could not care less. "I'm not done with you just yet..."

He hoists you onto his desk, and spreads your legs, trailing gentle kisses up your thighs. A needy growl escapes him as he licks a stripe across your soaked cunt, before his lips continue the path up your body to their rightful destination.

"Work can wait," Gale's lips connect with yours, with desperation and heat, passion coursing through him. As he pulls away, he grabs hold of your chin, and gently coaxes you to make eye contact, "I need you more."

check out my masterlist for more like this!

#bg3 smut #gale x reader #Baldur's Gate 3 #gale dekarios smut #gale dekarios x reader #bg3 x reader #gale dekarios

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beatopia-films · 2 days

Text

FARMERS DAUGHTER PART II

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings : strong language and just cuteness!!!

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━

INSTAGRAM POST !

❤️ 💬 ➤

liked by y/bff_ and 420 others

y/n.19 life recently 🧺🪴💌

view all comments

user20 WHO’S HERE FROM THE STURNIOLO VIDEO ????

user8 yo matt we found ur girl

user73 y’all are FASTTTTT

y/bff_ gorgeous 🩷🩷

➜ y/n.19 that’s all you

user16 matt is mine xxx

user1 who even are you 💀

➜ user who are you to talk…?

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━

matthew.sturniolo has sent you a message !

decline or accept

———————————————————

matthew : hey idk if you remember me but we spoke a few days ago at the farm

you : omg hi!! yes of course i remember you

matthew : that’s a relief lmao

matthew : i just wanted to say i enjoyed talking to you

you : that’s so sweet, i liked talking to you too :)

matthew : also i’m sorry abt the comments

you : it’s okay lol are you like famous?

matthew : i wouldn’t rlly say famous but me and my brothers are on youtube

you : that’s cool! what type of videos do u film?

matthew : it depends tbh sometimes we film vlogs or just yap in my car

you : so im guessing you vlogged the farm trip? i hope you had fun and there was a lot of good content!

matthew : it was amazing, thanks for letting us film. some places are a bit more difficult

you : well im glad it was a good experience :))

matthew : how’s ronald doing?? i’m sorry about my brother feeding him 😭

you : he’s okay don’t worry!! just a little sick but tell him that ronald forgives him

matthew : will do

matthew : poor guy has been stressing ever since

you : ronald does this all the time! he literally begs people for food, gets sick and then wonders why??

you : he’s the silliest goat EVER

matthew : stop me if im too forward but would you maybe wanna hang out sometime?

you : i’d love to hang out!

matthew : great

matthew : cool

matthew : let me know when ur free and we can arrange it

you : i’m free over the weekend! is that okay?

matthew : that’s perfect, i’ll pick you up saturday??

matthew : how’s 1pm?

you : great! i’ll see you then :)

matthew : can’t wait

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━

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@jnkvivi

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deepestnightcolor · 3 days

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PLEASE MORE OF SAM FLUFF PLS PLS PLS

ᴀ/ɴ: Thou ask and thou shall receive!~ Thank you so much for your request, love!

I hope this is okay, I've become quite rusty when it comes to fluff. I hope you enjoy! Also, to everyone suffering of pollen allergies - much strength to you. Blondie is suffering with you.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x GN!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 1373 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None, just fluff!

☾ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ꜱᴘʀɪɴɢ ☽

The warming rays of the spring's sun tickled your nose the moment you stepped out of your farm house. Spring was about halfway over, but still in its complete beauty.

You looked at your fields with a content look in your eyes. The seeds you had spread over the tilled ground had stretched out their green leaves, some of them would soon be ready to harvest, would need nothing more but a bit more of the tender sun and the water that was coating their complex beauty from the sprinkler already running this morning.

Butterflies were dancing through the air that was drenched in the sweet aroma of nature coming to life and blooming in its bright, cheerful colors, breezes of gentle wind wafting the scent towards you coaxing you to step forward.

A glance to your right made you see that your cows and chickens had found their ways outside by now, hungry mouths and beaks tugging at stems of grass that carried a lush green colour. The bursts of rain that had fallen on the Valley the last few days had done nature a favor, you thought, a smile on your lips.

You picked up the bucket you had brought outside with you, making your way over to their pasture.

"Good morning, ladies," you called out, chuckling as a chorus of moos greeting you in return. Betty and Moonalisa looked great today, and it filled you with a sense of pride to know it was your care that made the bond between you so strong. Scratching the cows' heads, you chatted quietly to them. Told them what had happened to you yesterday. You had seen Sam, you told them. He had taken you out on a date, and you still felt the giddiness of the last night rush through your veins.

Even as you were milking them you chattered about the blond, the twitch of spotted ears giving you the feeling of being listened to by your friends. When the bucket was full, you gave each cow a small treat as you thanked them, bringing the bucket to the shed to fill it in the machine that would make it become cheese in a matter of hours.

It didn't take long for you to enter the coop, greeting Julie and Lana with the same excitement you had done with the cows. You ran your fingers through the soft feathers, listening to the cluckering as the two hens picked at the ground. "You are very pretty today," you told them with a nod, "did you do something with your feathers?"

Cluckering sounds answering you made you chuckle.

Once you had allowed Sam to follow your morning routine because he had woken up as early as you had, and your boyfriend had watched you with an amused smirk on his face. When you had asked him why he looked at you like that, all he gave you was the shrug of his shoulders.

"It's cute how you treat your animals. Makes me appreciate you more, y'know? Shows you care."

He had kissed your head and crouched down to tell one of your hens that her eyes were gorgeous, and the other that she walked with great grace. The compliments seemed so genuine, so warm, they didn't leave you a choice but to kiss Sam right then and there, because you knew you could trust him. Even with silly little things like talking to your animals in front of him.

"I'll check on you again tonight!" You called towards them, your hands filled with the two large eggs you had found in the coop. After putting them in their respective machines, you decided to make your way to town. You had some ggeodes you wanted Clint to break open, and maybe you could visit Sam with a pizza for lunch.

However, the sound of someone sneezing made you raise your brow. That had been a loud sneeze.

You pushed your hands in the pockets of your overall, holding onto the fabric as you tilted your head. Waited. Maybe it was one of your animals? You had heard Moonalisa sneeze once, it had been louder than you would have ever guessed. Or you had just-

ACHOO.

Okay, you had definitely not imagined that, but it hadn't come from behind you, either. With your face still scrunched up in confusion, you walked towards town, perhaps you would find the sneezer there?

But you didn't even have to go so far, because looking to your right, you saw a mess of blond hair and a familiar blue jacket.

Your boyfriend stood hunched over in the field of lowers near the bus stop. A small bouquet was already in his right hand, the other traced through the tender sea of pedals and leaves. "S-"

ACHOO.

The sneeze shook the man's whole body, making him groan out loud. "Fuckin' allergies," his voice grumbled, but it sounded strained. Probably from all the sneezing he had been suffering through.

"I like you, you flowery pieces of death, why can't you fuckin' like me back?"

"Maybe they don't like you plucking them?" You joked, making the blond twirl around to look at you.

His eyes were teary and red, his nose was red, and he seemed defeated. However, a smile spread on his face just a few seconds later.

"Can't be it, they try to kill me even if I don't pluck them," he laughed, leaning down and picking up another flower, tenderly adding it to the bouquet. You watched him, biting down on your lower lip. "Just out of curiosity, why are you in a field of things that kick off your allergy?"

Sam gave you a sheepish grin, mouth open to answer your very valid question, though the sneeze that tore through him was faster. A groan left his mouth as he grimaced, rubbing his eyes and then his nose, only to realize what he had just done. The pollen on his hand led to another sneezing fit. You reached out your hand and slowly pulled him away from the flowers, pulling out some tissues to dab at his teary eyes carefully.

"Because of the tradition," he answered when his breathing seemingly had steadied. "Tradition? What tradition?"

Again, your boyfriend carried this sheepish look on his face.

"That when you wanna date someone, you give them a bouquet."

You looked up at him, your eyebrow lifting in a slight arch. "But...we are dating, aren't we? 3rd of winter. That's when we got together."

Sam nodded and gave you another grin, this time, it was almost shy.

"But I didn't give you a bouquet." It wasn't an explanation. It was a matter of fact, at least that's how it sounded when he said it.

You couldn't help yourself, you never really could around Sam. Around him, your reactions were real. Raw. You laughed and gripped his face carefully, kissing the swollen nose just as gently as you did it affectionately.

"But Pierre sells them, Sam! You didn't have to trigger such a big allergic reaction for me," you whispered, and now it was Sam that rose his brow.

"Those are ugly ass flowers in that bouquet," he began, puffing out his chest, "and who the hell knows how long our dude Pierre has kept those flowers in a random ass drawer, keeping them alive with whatever witchery he has up that ugly sweater sleeve? Nope, no chance, my babe only gets the best- ACHOO."

Sam let out another groan, slowly holding the flowers towards you. "But..I'd be thankful if you took them off my hands...you know. I think you look prettier with them than I ever could, anyway."

You cooed as you looked at your beaten by allergies boyfriend, taking the bouquet and kissing his lips gently. "Yes, Sam," you whispered against them after a moment.

Sam, distracted by the affection inflicted on his lips, looked at you in confusion. "Yes what?"

You grinned, intertwined your fingers. "Yes, I accept the bouquet. Can't let my boyfriend die and then not accept the bouquet now, can I?"

Your boyfriend, now back on track, smiled, pressing a large hand to his chest. "That would have been more cruel than the pollen in spring."

#sdv #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley farmer #sdv fanfic #sdv sam #fanfic #sdv sam x reader #sdv fluff #fluff #stardew valley fluff #sam fluff

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