Im working on requests rn so stay tuned guyss

Origami Around
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
$LAYYYTER
Misplaced Lens Cap
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Jules of Nature

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Love Begins

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@juliennevalery
Im working on requests rn so stay tuned guyss

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Thinking bout Simon's truck being so big he has to lift you up by the waist to get you inside every time. The thing is, you can't even reach the fucking handle, so you don't bother trying to get in anymore after failing miserably a couple of times. His Ford's just impossible to get into gracefully.
So, you simply wait by the door, standing there pretty and patient until he's towering behind you, and you feel the warmth of his tattooed arms effortlessly scooping you up to sit your ass on the seat.
It's actually funny because you're perfectly capable of getting in yourself, but over time you started doing it on purpose. He'd never tell you that, but he knows it too. The way your face lights up every damn time you wait for him gives you away immediately. Still, he'd never dare ruin your little game.
"Si, come pick me up, please?"
You stood in front of the monster he drove until you heard the door to your house click shut and his heavy boots against the driveway.
You didn't even bother to turn around. The low, amused huff that left Simon told you everything you needed to know.
The car unlocked with a click.
"Y'know," he drawled, coming to a stop behind you, "for someone who runs their mouth as much as you do, you're awful helpless, love."
A grin tugged at your lips as you felt his hands settle on your hips, giving them a light squeeze.
"Mhm."
He snorted.
"Such a fuckin' brat."
One second your feet were planted firmly on the ground; the next, they were kicking in the air as he hauled you up against his warm chest. A squeal escaped you before you could stop it.
"Simon!" You grabbed onto his forearms.
"What?" His voice was full of that stupid satisfaction he got whenever he managed to get a reaction out of you. "Thought you wanted me to help." He murmured close to your ear, sending shivers through your body.
You loved how easy he made it look and hated how your stomach flipped every time.
But fuck, what you loved most was being manhandled by him.
By the time he set you down on the passenger seat, your face was red and warm.
His hand lingered on your thigh for a second longer before he stepped back.
You narrowed your eyes. Simon looked entirely too pleased with himself.
"Creep."
"Got in the truck, didn't ya?"
You pouted.
"Buckle your seatbelt!" Simon barked out a laugh and shut the door.
"You fuckin' buckle my ass," you huffed under your breath.
The driver's side door opened.
"Did ya say something?"
"Love you, Si!"
â mdni 18+
Also, shoutout to @wooceanic becuase she requested, and i got inspired ;P
The first time you realized Simon was actually making love to you was after your first big fight, when you had given him the silent treatment for almost two days.
âYou didn't live with him then, so you tried to ingore his texts and calls, simply choosing to rot at work until the dead of night just to keep your brain from obsessing over him.
âOh, but how naive you were to think you could escape him, or that he could last a day without seeing you.
He still had a key to your place just in case, a fact you totally forgot about until you walked in and found him waiting on your couch like a lovesick puppy, with an order from your favorite Chinese restaurant.
âYou really had him completely wrapped around your finger, you realized, smiling to yourself.
âBy the time he actually started begging for forgiveness, you were too far gone to remember why you were even pissed.
âHe had you down bad, too. So dumb of you to think otherwise.
âYour bodies moved in sync and with the way his hips rolled with every drive, sinking deeper with every movement he gave you, you simply forgot your own name.
âHe had your legs spread wide, bent almost to your shoulders, creating that sharp, sweet tingle in your belly every time he slammed into your sweet spot. And oh god, that fucker knew exactly how to hit it perfectly.
âEvery. Damn. Time.
âHe did that thing where he would curve his hips up and hold there for a moment, whispering into your ear, "It's right there, huh? I found it again." His head was buried in your neck, and the pathetic, desperate whimpers he let out after he felt how wet and warm you were, filled with his cum, made you clench your pussy around him even more, turning him into an animal obsessed with dragging every last orgasm out of you.
âThen it hit you. That this time was different.
âUsually, sex with him was hard and rushed. It wasn't bad, but this? Yeah, it was something else.
âHe never whimpered like that. He was taking his time, watching every twitch of your body, caressing you slowly until you fell apart again and again, and it was so fucking hot seeing him like that.
âHe practically begged for your forgiveness by fucking you slow and deep into the mattress.
â"Si, look at me," you managed to gasp between moans, yanking at his messy blonde hair until his eyes met yours.
â"You feel so good, love," he whimpered while looking into your half opened, glazed eyes, his pace growing slower. His hand was on your breast, squeezing and rubbing your nipple between his fingers. "Will you forgive me, and let me cum inside again?"
"If you keep fucking me like this I might."
âHis hips stilled, but his cock remained buried deep inside while he started grinding slowly, so you could feel every inch, every vein, and that delicious curve of his cock pulsing inside you. Almost as if he wanted to prove how good he was for you.
â"Please, love, forgive me." He hooked your thigh around his shoulder, fingers digging into your skin and already leaving red marks.
"Fuck, let me just fill you up, pretty girl," he groaned into your ear while gently nibbling your lobe.
âYou gasped, eyes rolling back, but you could not care less because you felt so incredible. You dug your nails into his bare back, tracing lines along his muscles and scars. They moved along with him, and you smiled, feeling the goosebumps erupt on his skin.
â"God, you're going to make me cum if you don't stop, Si." You bit into his swollen from kissing lips drawing a little bit of blood, the pleasure forced its way down your body. You tugged harder seeing how he wanted to hide in your neck already, his eyes were completely lost, and it made you clench around him. Usually, you were the one who struggled with eye contact.
â"Yeah? - thrust - You're gonna cum again? - another thrust, this time he reached for your puffy clit. You felt his thumb rubbing delicate circles, not to overstimulate you - You can cum - thrust that pulled the filthiest and loudest moan out of you - as much as you need, baby. I've got you."
â"Oh god, Simon, I'm..."
â"I know. Fuck yeah, cum on my cock, sweet thing. Please, cum on me, I'm begging you." He whimpered.
Since then, everything changed. He would make love to you on every occasion, simply because being that close and intimate with you became addictive in a way. Fuck it, he just loved it. After all, he felt like your relationship was turning into something serious, so it was only fair to care for your needs in every possible way. God, he loved giving it to you. Just looking at you in the bathroom brushing your teeth wearing nothing but his shirt made his cock go rock hard, and hearing your pretty moans and sighs was a different story entirely.
âYeah, he was obsessed with making love with you.
Well, and shame on you it took such a small effort for him to bribe you...
If you want to request something for Simon Riley my inbox is open donât be shyyyy
Mamma's back to writing better buckle up

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âSimon was such a heavy sleeper, which honestly made no sense. With the kind of work he did, you would have thought he had developed insomnia years ago. It was something you secretly envied. The way he could fall asleep so effortlessly felt almost unfair. The second his head touched the pillow, he was gone.
âActually, he could sleep pretty much anywhere, and waking him up was another story. It usually took a few gentle nudges and a couple of soft kisses pressed against his jaw before those pretty, sleepy eyes finally blinked open. And he snored, too. Not loudly, just a low, rhythmic rumble against your ear. It secretly became your own little lullaby, a sound that meant you were safe, he was home, and the rest of the world could not reach you here.
âWhen he slept, he was basically a human weighted blanket. He was so big you often felt like you disappeared between the sheets and his massive frame, but you did not mind. You loved the way his hands always knew exactly where to find you. An arm draped heavy across your waist, his face in your tits or tucked into the crook of your neck, his chest a solid wall of warmth against your back or legs tangled up with yours.
âHe had this subconscious reflex: even in his deepest sleep, if you shifted or shivered, his arm would instinctively tighten, pulling you flush against him as if his body was wired to protect you from the very air around you. Seeing the man who could stare down a threat without flinching melt into a puddle of softness just because you were near? That was a sight that never failed to make your belly swim.
âYou used to be a notoriously light sleeper, tossing and turning for hours. Nothing helped. You tried everything. Different pillows, white noise, herbal teas, sleep schedules. It always ended the same way: staring at the ceiling at some ungodly hour while everyone else seemed to be asleep.
âThat was until you started sleeping next to Simon.
âThe moment you curled up against his warmth, your eyes would begin to drift shut on their own. It felt like your body had finally found something it trusted enough to let its guard down around. There was a profound, quiet magic in his steady breathing, and the way his raspy voice would whisper "g'night, luvie" or "c'mere, sweetheart, it's time to sleep" right before he drifted off.
âAnd the mornings? Those were the best. He would wake up slow, his eyes heavy and hazy, and before he even fully registered the daylight, he would seek out your hand, lacing his thick fingers through yours. He would pull you back down for lazy, lingering morning kisses that tasted so sweet you could melt right there on the spot.
âSomehow, between his snoring, his death grip on your waist, and the way he would steal almost all your blanket which you hated the most, Simon had become the only thing in the world that could keep you grounded. He was your home, your warmth, and the best part of every single day.
â
Terms and conditions
Pairing: Dean Di Laurentis x exchange student!reader
⥠Main Index | ⥠Archive for Earth-66
a/n: Let me know if you want more of this! Requests are open and Iâm also totally down to make a masterlist for him bc this might be the only acceptable place to be head over heels for a blonde man
Summary: Back home, no one ever looked at you twice. So when you arrived at Briar as an inexperienced exchange student, you decided to seize the opportunity and let the campus playboy teach you everything about casual sex. What could possibly go wrong?
Classification: Smut +18 | Nipple play, bathtub sex, use of a vibrator, orgasm control/denial, casual sex / FWB conversation
Word count: 2k
Divider by me ;)
Hey I saw you were looking for ideas for off campus fics
How about, sitting on the off campus boyâs backs while they do pushups for totally valid reasons Iâm sure đ
As a Dean girlie since day 1, expect more of him from me. There's fun boys content in this one! Keep the requests coming
The Frozen Four was coming up, so the boys were doubling up on the training. More skating, more lifting, more cardioâŚand more proteins.Â
ââCome on, Tuck!ââ you yelled, standing near the patio steps as the goalie started slowing down on his push-ups. ââTen more, you can do it!ââÂ
Tucker glared at you from the grass, his hair damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead. ââYouâre enjoying this way too much.ââ
You grinned as he lowered himself for another push-up. The boys had turned todayâs backyard training into a stupid competition: the one to do the most push-ups will get a paid massage by the losers.Â
On Tuckerâs left, Dean and Garrett were showing no signs of difficulty, which didnât surprise you. Garrett trained hard to outrun the nepo baby label attached to his last name. He didnât want people thinking heâd been recruited by the Bruins because he was Phil Grahamâs son. He wanted to be known for his skill â for himself.
when you told simon you wanted to go on holiday, you werenât expecting a cold coastal town in the north of england in may. the sun kept trying to come out, and failing, leaving you tucking yourself into simonâs side for warmth. grey skies, rolling waves, the scent of salt in the air.Â
youâve been at the pub, day drinking despite the shit weather, tucked in a conner table in the heated beer garden with a view of the sea, sipping on cocktails like youâre in palma and not scarborough. simonâs been nursing a pint - his second all day - whilst his arm rests around your shoulder, heavy and warm whilst you people watch over the pub wall.Â
youâre tipsy, giggly; leaning into his side like you need him to keep you propped vaguely upright, making up ridiculous stories about locals and tourists that are wandering past.
âsee that one?â you point with your straw at a innocent enough looking man in a yellow raincoat, âdefinitely cheating on his wife with the woman who owns the souvenir shop. iâm getting⌠guilty vibes.â
simon huffs a quiet laugh before pressing a kiss against your temple. âyer a fuckinâ menace when yer pissed, yâknow that right love?â
youâre mid laugh when a family walks past - smiling, happy, holding hands, pushing a pram with a teeny, tiny baby in it.
a teeny, tiny baby in a bear suit.Â
your breath catches, your eyes burn slightly as tears fill your eyes.
âoh my god simon.â you whisper, voice wobbling as hard as your lower lip. âlook. look at the baby. the baby bear. the baby dressed as a bear. i canât⌠thatâs so⌠oh iâm going to die. i can't stand it. itâs so cute.â
a tiny, tipsy little sob slips out of you - half laugh and half tears. youâre drunk and emotional and completely undone by a baby bundled up warm against the breeze. simon goes completely still beside you, arm tightening around your shoulder. when you peek up at him, his usual guarded expression has melted. brown eyes soft, lips curved upwards, jaw relaxed. his hand slides up to cradle the back of your neck, thumb brushing gently along your jaw.
âthink itâs time?â he asks, voice low, but sure. like the question has been sitting heavy in his chest for months and finally found its way out into the open between you.
you blink up at him, surprised enough that the tears pause. â...what?â
âyou âeard me.â his voice doesnât waver. âwant to start trying. want to put a baby in you.â
the words hit you like a spark. you make a soft, overwhelmed noise and throw yourself at him, arms wrapping tight around his shoulders as you kiss every inch of his face you can reach - his scarred cheek, the corner of his mouth, the bridge of his nose, his temple. he lets out a rough protest, one hand settling on your waist even as his ears go pink.
âlove - weâre in public - â
âdonât care,â you mumble between kisses, half laughing, half crying happy tears. âsay it again.â
âgonna get you pregnant. knock you up. put a fuckinâ baby in you. âappy?â
you kiss him properly then, slow and deep and tasting like the citrus in your cocktails, until he gently eases you back before you climb into his lap right then and there.
the hotel room door barely clicks shut before simonâs hands are on you, guiding you backwards towards the bed, hands sliding under your jumper to run his fingers over your goosepimpled skin. youâre giggly, loose, tugging clumsily at both of your clothes before he intervenes and strips you both with careful hands, pressing kisses on each new patch of your skin he uncovers until heâs laying you down on the sheets.Â
he settles between your thighs, cock hard and heavy against you, one had braced beside your head, the other gripping the base of his cock, running the swollen head over your slit, lubing himself in your slick. the sensation of his bare skin on yours is enough to make you gasp, none of the usual latex separating you.
his pupils are blown when his eyes meet yours, forehead resting on yours as he presses forward, stretching your cunt open in one slow, steady thrust. he shifts as he bottoms out, hands sliding down your waist, your hips, landing on the back of your thighs to push your knees to your chest. you gasp again, back arching off the mattressâ he feels so deep like this, like you can feel him in your stomach.Â
âgonna fill you up tânight love.â he murmurs against your throat, starting a slow, rolling rhythm that grinds your clit against the blonde hairs on his pelvis with every thrust. he presses down with one hand on your stomach, feeling the shape of himself inside you, making the head of his cock drag against your g-spot with every snap of his hips. âgonna cum so deep in your sweet little cunt thereâs no choice but for it to take.â
âsimon - â your voice breaks into a moan as pleasure coils tight and hot in your pelvis. he fucks you deep, steady, whispering rough praise between kisses.
âgonna look so fuckinâ good carryinâ my kid,â he mutters. âwant to see yer belly all round. tits full. want everyone to know yer mine.â
you shatter around him with a gasped cry of his name, walls fluttering and squeezing him tight. simon curses as he follows, hips stuttering as he fills you full of thick, hot cum, pressed right up against the entrance to your womb. he stays buried deep, rolling you both so youâre draped over his chest with his cock still plugging every drop inside you.
you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, humming contentedly as his hand strokes slowly up and down your back. after a long, quiet moment, simonâs voice breaks through, chest rumbling under your cheek.
ââŚdonât know if Iâll be any good at it. beinâ a dad.â the admission is quiet, soft. âdidnât exactly âave the best example.â
you lift your head, cupping his scarred cheek so he has to meet your eyes.
âyouâll be a good dad, simon,â you say softly, firmly. âyouâre loyal. protective. and when you love itâs⌠with all of you. youâre gonna be great.â you lean in and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. âand iâm gonna be right here. weâre doing it together.â
he exhales shakily, arms tightening around you. the tension in his shoulders eases as he presses a kiss to your forehead, then your lips, hips giving one lazy roll that makes you feel the warm mess of his cum shift inside you.
âyeah,â he murmurs, voice impossibly tender. âalright. letâs do this. new mission parameters: donât fuck the kid up.â
you smile against his skin, already dreaming of tiny booties and skull-patterned baby grows.
Me trying to find a good fanfic that isnt smut

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reading a fic then slowly realizing its generated by ai genuinely fucking gets me like this
things i hate when i read fanfic on tumblr
as someone who's been an active fanfic reader for this long, it blows my mind that formatting is still a work in progress for some. and no, this is no insult to anyone whose first language is not english, that's not what i'm saying whatsoever.
1) when dialogue is color coded.
"i can read," partycatty said. "i know how to use context clues for who's speaking."
"it adds definition to the character," you defend.
"no, it doesn't," partycatty frowns. "it makes me feel like i'm reading a children's book."
2) when dialogue doesn't have a paragraph break.
"it's not like it ruins the quality of the conversation, necessarily," partycatty said. "it just... ruins the flow of the reader's inner voice?" you replied, finishing my sentence.
Older Leon this, younger reader that.
NOW HEAR ME OUT...
Rookie Leon this, older reader that...
(just think about it... because dude I want to write it so bad.)
there wonât ever be a fictional character like Leon Scott Kennedy again. No one comes close to that mans popularity and thatâs a fact.
(But thatâs just me.)
#amen to that
i donât think the people making the shirtless leon mods for re9 understand leon has CHEST hair.

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even blurry he still looks so good
paddy pimblett the man that you are.