#be warned because i WILL be self-indulgent for these 31 days | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

your-lovely-rose · 1 year

Text

❧ Basic information in short:

➻ Everything (status/words count/tags/warnings) will change over time.

➻ If the fanfic is less than 1.5K words I will publish two (does not apply to requests).

❥ Day of publishing fanfics/requests: Friday

← [Navigation] | [Why does it take so long?] →

❥ Number of requests to do: 21

Mr. Compress: 1

“Blossoms” (+6.1k)

You've known Sako for a long time - for so long, you can't even remember how it started. It's like you've known each other forever. Atsuhiro was attentive, kind and always ready to help for you. You didn't know if it was because of his gentlemanly manners, his self-confidence or his playful attitude and treating the world like a big stage, but at some point... You fell in love with a villain... AU: Hanahaki Disease

Rating: T | Genre: Romance | ⚠ Warnings: Near death of Reader, Mutual Pining, Age gap,

Shin Nemoto: 1

Relationship Alphabet

Gang Orca: 2

SFW Alphabet

“–––” (---)

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

Rating: — | Genre: — | ⚠ Warnings: —

Request 01: Geten, Denki Kaminari, Momo Yaoyorozu, Katsuki Bakugo

Request 02: Neito Monoma, Tamaki Amajiki

Aki Hayakawa: 2

“Halloween Night” (---)

Halloween - a time when, hidden behind masks, we can indulge our deepest desires, and the cover of mystery and anonymity adds to our confidence.

Rating: E/M | Genre: Smut | ⚠ Warnings: —

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

“Comfort of being in your arms” (+4.8)

Summary: Life as a Devil Hunter was not easy, pleasant or long. Taking this job, you all knew the risks, but still.... You want him to live as long as possible.

Rating: T | Genre: Hurt/Comfort | ⚠ Warnings: Suggested character death and minor death (mentioned), Spoilers for Season 1: episode 5 (chapters 12-15), episode 11 (chapters 31-35).

Denji: 1

“Bittersweet feeling” (---)

Rating: T | Genre: Hurt/No Comfort | ⚠ Warnings: Minor death, Blood, Forbidden/Unrequited love,

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

All For One: 4

“Compensation” (+2.8k)

All For One was fighting with All Might when another group of pro heroes came to you. Somehow you managed to convince them that you're not an enemy, but a hostage and they decided to help you, but something went wrong at some point. And now you're here again, condemned to his mercy and disfavor. All and only his.

Rating: E | Genre: Smut (Lemon), Angst | ⚠ Warnings: Yandere!AFO (obsessive/possessive behaviour), Minor death (suggested), Kidnapping, Dub-con, Blowjob, Chocking,

“Our little dirty secret” (±2.1k)

Yoichi asks his brother to talk to their younger sister about her infatuation with him, but the latter seems to have other plans.

Rating: M | Genre: Smut (Lemon) | ⚠ Warnings: Incest

“Behind the mirror” (+3.7k)

Yoichi wanted to protect [Your Name] from their older brother, but he was too weak...

Rating: E | Genre: Smut (Lemon) | ⚠ Warnings: Incest, Dirty talk, Praising, Masturbation, Creampie, Voyeurism, Gags, Bondage, Blood,

“–––” (---)

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

Rating: E | Genre: Smut (Lemon) | ⚠ Warnings: Incest,

Request 03: Angel Devil, Galgali, Beam

Himeno: 1

“Our shared moments and sunrises” (+3.5k)

There are many things that people would do for a better life, but those shared moments with you Himeno will never give up for anything.

Rating: G | Genre: — | ⚠ Warnings: —

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

Kobeni Higashiyama: 1

“One very stressful day and a moment of relief” (---)

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

Rating: E/M | Genre: Smut (Lemon) | ⚠ Warnings: —

Request 04: Galgali, Beam

Mummy: 1

“–––” (---)

Rating: G | Genre: Fluff | ⚠ Warnings: None

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

Hikage Shinomori: 1

“Your silent guardian, your hero, your...” (+10.5k)

For a long time you feel watched - nothing new in a world where All For One is at the height of his power, but it takes too long to look like a simple robbery...

Rating: T | Genre: — | ⚠ Warnings: Stalking, Kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome,

Emnu: 1

“–––” (---)

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

Rating: — | Genre: — | ⚠ Warnings: —

Request: Daki (+9k), Mukago (+7.6k), Nakime (+7.4k)

- “They’re cute”

What else can I say? They are cute.

Rating: T | Genre: Fluff // H/C // | ⚠ General Warnings: Minor death (suggested & mentioned), Eating people (mentioned)/dead bodies, Threats, Blood, Severe injuries on the body (not Reader), Misogyny, Muzan's goal (Spoiler for: Episode 34/Chapter 67), Presented the character's past (from "Kimetsu no Yaiba Official Fanbook: Kisatsutai Kenbunroku 2"), Forbidden Love/Mutual Pining || NOT EDITED

❥ Number of fanfics to write: 15

Dabi: 2

“Prisoner in a lonely tower” (---)

Rating: — | Genre: — | ⚠ Warnings: —

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

“What goes around, comes around” (chapter 2)

You were neither a great hero nor a known villain. All you ever wanted was a quiet life, but it’s seldom the plans go our way, right? One day after work, you pick on the wrong person and now you have to deal wit it.

Rating: T | Genre: Angst | ⚠ Warnings: Yandere!Dabi (obsessive/possessive behaviour behaviour in future), Blackmail,

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

Tomura Shigaraki (LoV): 4

“Curse” (---)

You were just a servant at the castle. A slave from the lands conquered by All For One many years ago. You don’t remember what it was like before - when you were free or even your parents’ faces. You were no one special, yet you attracted the attention of the heir to the throne. AU: Royal

Rating: — | Genre: — | ⚠ Warnings: —

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

“It comes at night” (---)

It comes at night. It’s ugly and weird. You don’t know what he wants, but he comes back every night. AU: Fantasy

Rating: — | Genre: — | ⚠ Warnings: —

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

“Train” (---)

You've always come home from work by train, but because of some creep you had to find another means of transportation home.

Rating: E | Genre: Smut | ⚠ Warnings: —

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

“Copycat” (---)

Aoi worked as a prostitute, and thanks to her quirk she was more popular and sought after than her other female colleagues. Everything was going great until Dabi introduced her to his acquaintance - a thin man looking at her menacingly with red, bloodshot eyes from behind a curtain of greasy gray hair. At first it was supposed to be just sex, but the man began to demand more and more strange requests. And who was the [Hair Color] girl after all?

Rating: E | Genre: Smut | ⚠ Warnings: —

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

Kurogiri: 1

“Who are you? Do I know you?” (---)

You work at U.A. High School and you were present during the League of Villains’ first assault on freshmen. Although you resisted them (and defeated some of the intruders), things weren’t going well… or at least until All Might shows up. The Symbol of Peace defeated the muscular Nomu, the bandit leader, Shigaraki Tomura, was shot and retreated, but his right hand didn’t seem willing to leave empty-handed.

Rating: T | Genre: — | ⚠ Warnings: Kidnapping,

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

Himiko Toga: 1

“Blood like chocolate” (---)

She is dangerous - she is sick and obsessed. Obsessed with you and she is sick with love, however, there is one thing she loves even more… blood.

Rating: T/M | Genre: — | ⚠ Warnings: Yandere!Toga (obsessive/possessive), Injured Reader, Gore

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

Mr. Compress: 1

“Thief of the Night” (---)

Rating: T | Genre: Romance | ⚠ Warnings: —

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

Hawks: 1

“Nanny” (chapter 1)

In nature, when the female hawks dies, the male is unable to take care of the young and they die - that’s why you come here, but you didn’t expect to discover the dark side of the winged hero and his corpses in the closet.

Rating: — | Genre: Dark fic | ⚠ Warnings: Yandere!Hawks (obsessive/possessive behaviour in future), Kidnapping,

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

All For One: 1

“The worst thing about wishes is that sometimes they come true” (chapter 1)

The detective must solve the murders and disappearance of two teenagers - all the clues lead to one person, but [Last Name] [Frist Name] is missing. Will he be able to solve this seemingly simple case?

Rating: M | Genre: Dark fic, Heavy Angst, Case fic | ⚠ Warnings: Yandere!AFO (obsessive/possessive behaviour), Injuries Reader, Characters Death (mentioned),

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

Power: 1

“Roommates From Hell” (chapter 1)

Aki is in the hospital and the two recalcitrant devils (majin and hybrid being accurate) cannot be left unattended. Therefore, Ms. Makima decides to choose you as their new caretaker. Good luck, you will need it…

Rating: T | Genre: — | ⚠ Warnings: None

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

Control Devil: 1

“What happened in Hamelin…” (chapter 1)

Rating: — | Genre: — | ⚠ Warnings: —

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

Akaza: 1

“You’re weak” (chapter 1)

You used to be a hunter, but a certain accident during a fight with a demon made you have to abandon your profession for the rest of your life. The worst part, however, is that for some reason one of the stronger demons in the world has attached itself to you.

Rating: — | Genre: — | ⚠ Warnings: —

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

Muzan Kibutsuji: 1

“His property” (---)

You couldn't stand living with him anymore, so you left. You didn't have a really bad relationship, but his eternal absence and insensitivity drove you crazy - you had your needs too, but you felt like it only worked one way, so you decided to break up with him. When he came back from one of his business trips, you were already waiting for him in the living room to talk to him about it. You didn't expect that the demon king is very possessive and jealous of his toys.

Rating: T | Genre: Dark fic | ⚠ Warnings: Yandere!Muzan (obsessive/possessive behaviour),

Working on it (any information will be added/changed when I finished)

← [Navigation] | [Why does it take so long?] →

#status update #status #request #fanfic #request status #fanfic stats

12 notes · View notes

peach-and-bugs · 1 year

Text

I posted 188 times in 2022

114 posts created (61%)

74 posts reblogged (39%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@peach-and-bugs

@novelist-becca

@agnessharknes

@wynonasrider

@fangirlovestuff

I tagged 135 of my posts in 2022

Only 28% of my posts had no tags

#masterlist navigation - 31 posts

#fanfiction requests - 27 posts

#fic request - 25 posts

#requests open - 23 posts

#requested - 22 posts

#◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ kay's at it again♡ - 18 posts

#fanfic masterlist - 18 posts

#masterlist - 17 posts

#agatha harkness x reader - 15 posts

#self promo - 15 posts

Longest Tag: 61 characters

#and currently i'm working on writing the requests in my inbox

My Top Posts in 2022:

💚Do You Have Any Hobbies? - Olivia Octavious x Fem!Reader💚

Summary: Olivia was picked to assist in a new study happening behind the scenes at the New York Smithsonian, but what she doesn't expect is to meet a curious exhibition designer for an affinity for wildlife that happens to catch her eye

Warnings: none, just meet-cute fluff

Word Count: 1,988

-💚-

Olivia Octavius was never the type to indulge in what most considered to be simple pleasantries, such as morning walks or reading a book with a cup of tea. She was a woman who preferred to take her coffee over blueprints and spend her time either at home or in her lab (more commonly the latter, these days). However, she now found herself in a rather bizarre situation, considering her work-centric lifestyle. She was visiting the New York Smithsonian for the first time in years...

105 notes - Posted January 12, 2022

💚Martha My Love, Martha My Dear - Abby Anderson x Gen!Reader (they/them pronouns)💚

Summary: Abby's always liked animals, dogs especially. But this love turns into something similar to worry around smaller creatures, especially the newborn puppies that y/n works with every day. She loves visiting y/n during her off time, but that worried feeling always sets in. it must be because of the puppies, right?

Warnings: minor mention of blood (dog just gave birth to puppies, but other than a little bit of blood nothing graphic)

Word Count: 2, 898

-💚-

Abby walked with her team, her hand firmly wrapped ‘round a dog leash connected to the german shepherd mute that had come along for their patrol. She watched as her group began to disperse through the base, disappearing to wash up. Owen stayed beside her and nudged the blond with his elbow.

“Want me to take Pyro back?” he asked, gesturing to the slobbering dog at Abby’s hip. She glanced down at the dog, with his wide grin and panting tongue, and smiled, shaking her head.

“I’ve got him,” Owen arched a brow and smirked knowingly...

105 notes - Posted August 8, 2022

💜Bubble - Agatha Harkness x fem!Reader💜

Summary: your wife finds a gentle way to ease the tensions left behind from a long day away from her...

Warnings: mostly just fluff, but it does contain nudity and some suggestive(?) themes (nothing graphic or smutty)

Word Count: 1,358

Keys jingled in the dark, fumbling to unlock the front door to your home. You walked in slowly, dropping your bag in the entryway as you stood still, eyes grazing over the seemingly empty first floor, which sat vacantly lit by a few scattered lamps, which were likely left on for your anticipated return. You took a long, shallow breath as you leaned down, unclasping your heels and tossing them roughly next to your bag as you made your way farther into your home...

119 notes - Posted May 19, 2022

💙Wave - Valkyrie x Gen!Reader💙

Summary: y/n takes an evening dip in the absence of their partner

Warnings: none, just fluff ( slightly suggestive though, but how can you not be when it's Valkyrie?)

Word Count: 875

-💙-

Valkyrie had told you she’d be late tonight and not to wait for her. She’d groaned about meetings and ignorant people always begging for her attention before she walked out the door. Since becoming the new King of Asgard, this had been a regular thing. Often, you’d have dinner by yourself and if her meeting or paperwork kept her, you'd turn into bed by yourself once again...

120 notes - Posted July 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

❤️You Shouldn't Hide In The Dark - Villanelle x fem!Reader❤️

Summary: y/n, Villanelle's unsuspecting target, finds herself in an unprecedented situation when she's attacked in the parking lot outside her flat, only to be saved by said hired assassin instead of killed...

Warnings: Dark themes, such as being followed at night, knives, biting, attempted murder and actual murder, graphic stabbing, mention of stalking, assassins (obviously), tending to and cleaning injuries, blood, and generally canon-typical violence

Word Count: 4,338

-❤️-

On most occasions, you would have refused to walk home alone, especially in the middle of the night like this. If you’d checked your watch before leaving, you’d know that the clock was creeping toward two in the morning. Yet here you were, walking with long strides away from the pub, where you’d left your friends as they sang the night away at karaoke. You were reminded now of the benefits that came with driving alone rather than carpooling. Paying for your gas would have been better than this, you thought, blowing a puff of visible breath out of your lips. You wrapped your coat tighter around your shoulders as a midnight chill caught up to your brisk pace...

129 notes - Posted May 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

2 notes · View notes

gatekeeperwatchman · 1 year

Text

Daily Devotional for December 21, 2022 Proverbs: God's Wisdom for Daily Living Devotional Scripture: Proverbs 31:8-9 (KJV):8 Open thy mouth for the dumb in the cause of all such as are appointed to destruction. 9 Open thy mouth, judge righteously and plead the cause of the poor and needy.Proverbs 31:8-9 (AMP): 8 Open your mouth for the dumb (those unable to speak for themselves), for the rights of all who are left desolate and defenseless;9 Open your mouth, judge righteously, and administer justice for the poor and needy. Thought for the DayVerses 8-9 - Having warned Lemuel of the habits a king must avoid, Bathsheba instructed him on the actions a king must take in judging his people righteously. He must speak for those unable to speak for themselves, defend the helpless, judge both the poor and the rich without prejudice, and carry out justice for the poor and needy. It was his responsibility to investigate both sides of a matter brought to him and to speak for those unable to present their side, judging without partiality. "Ye shall do no unrighteousness in judgment: thou shalt not respect the person of the poor, nor honor the person of the mighty: but in righteousness shalt thou judge thy neighbor" (Leviticus 19:15). We have seen that God's concern and love for the poor are expressed throughout Scripture. Psalm 140:12 states that God maintains their cause by raising people to help them. Old and New Testaments instruct us to help the poor and to deal fairly with all people; poor or rich. Doing so honors God. Failing to do this was part of the iniquity of Sodom and Gomorrah, whose people spent their wealth and free time on self-indulgence. "Behold, this was the iniquity of thy sister Sodom, pride, fullness of bread, and abundance of idleness was in her and her daughters, neither did she strengthen the hand of the poor and needy. And they were haughty, and committed abomination before me: therefore I took them away as I saw good" (Ezekiel 16:49-50). This verse gives us a description of their iniquity which fits most wealthy countries, particularly America: pride; being full because of an abundance of food; being idle; failing to help the poor; haughtiness; and committing abominations. When a nation exercises oppression and robbery as a way of life and mistreats or ignores the poor and outsiders who need help, it will pay the penalty by reaping what it has sown."The people of the land have used oppression, exercised robbery, and have vexed the poor and needy: yea, they have oppressed the stranger wrongfully. And I sought for a man among them, that should make up the hedge, and stand in the gap before me for the land, that I should not destroy it: but I found none. Therefore have I poured out my indignation upon them; I have consumed them with the fire of my wrath: their way have I recompensed upon their heads, saith the LORD GOD" (Ezekiel 22:29-31). If those in authority do what is right and defend the poor and speak out for those unable to speak for themselves, such as unborn children whose lives are being ended in abortion, they will help their people turn from wickedness so that they might be blessed instead of cursed. Prayer for the Day Dear heavenly Father, we are thankful that You are a compassionate God and a defender of the poor and needy. Lord, may we also be concerned about the struggles of the poor and reach out and help them. Thank You for blessing us with material blessings and may we reach out and bless those less fortunate than ourselves with my goods. Lord, we also want to share Jesus with those who are needy and poor, because when they know You, they will always have someone to call upon who will never fail them. They can find peace, love, and joy amid their circumstances and rise above their poverty and need because You will never forsake them. I pray in the name of Jesus. Amen.

From: Steven P. Miller @ParkermillerQ CEO/ Founder of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Groups Jacksonville, Florida., Duval County, USA. Instagram: steven_parker_miller_1956, Twitter: @GatekeeperWatchman1, @ParkermillerQ, Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gatekeeperwatchman URL: linkedin.com/in/steven-miller-b1ab21259 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ElderStevenMiller

GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO, #Ephraim1, #IAM, #Sparkermiller,#Eldermiller1981, facebook.com/ElderStevenMiller

0 notes

honorary-knight-of-favonius · 3 years

Text

One-liner #31 [Scaramouche]

Warnings: Bratty!Scaramouche, Milf!Reader, Dom!Reader, Sub!Scaramouche, Mentions of drugs, Self degradation, stripping, Mommy kink, orgam denial

I groaned as the light coming into the window shined right in my face. I tried getting away from it to go back asleep but I couldn’t turn around so I opened my eyes a bit and saw arms around my waist; just then I felt a nuzzle. I looked back and saw the bare harbinger in my bed and he was cuddling me. Wait, why was he cuddling me? Scaramouche hates me more than anyone yet here he was comfy as can be and cuddling me. Even going as far as nuzzling into my back for comfort. I got his arms loose and turned around which only had him bury his face into my chest.

“I never wanna leave this bed,” He hummed as he nuzzled my chest again, I moved my hand to his head keeping him in his place between my breasts, “Best morning ever. . . Archons thank you.” Throughout the morning a made small movements and all the while Scaramouche was fully indulging in every single touch practically melting into it. I decided to try something and I moved my hand on his ass.

“H-hey, my ass is off limits! You bruised it last night.” He scolded, I opened my eyes and met with a flustered Scaramouche, he instantly backed away and covered his face with his arm, “Why do you wake up when I say that.” He mumbled.

I acted drowsy which led Scaramouche to believe I had no idea what he was talking about. He quickly grabbed his clothes and got dressed. When he finished he turned to me with a glare.

“You have to stop thinking I'm one of your kids when you're drunk! I swear you get drunk as a sailor.” He groaned and left the room. Throughout that day I continuously teased Scaramouche however my attention was drawn away from Scaramouche and when I turned back I saw him putting something in my drink. Is that thing that has me blacking out whenever I wake up with Scaramouche in my bed? I went over as he was still putting the thing in my drink and when he looked to where I previously was and saw no one he panicked and I grabbed the bottle.

“Hey! Give that back you bimbo!” He barked,

“Hmm, Memory Elixir? Makes the consumer forget events during certain time frames? Scaramouche, what are you trying to forget? I mean you used a lot of this in that drink.” Scaramouche looked at me dumbfounded and tried giving me the drink. I honestly couldn’t believe Scaramouche handed me the drink even after I saw him put something in it. I drank. I was about to drink it but stopped. I leaned into Scaramouche, trapping him on one side.

“I shouldn’t drink, I have to watch my babies tonight.” I say putting the drink down. Scaramouche was dumbfounded, I guess it was because I never refuse a good drink. He followed me as I walked out of the meeting hall.

“Y-you have to watch your kids? I-I thought Childe will take care of them today.”

“He’s happy to, but it’s been so long since I’ve seen my cuties.” I heard a small growl from Scaramouche. I raised an eyebrow. “ Did we plan to do something together? If we do, I can pick them up later.” I say

“Y-yeah! We did.” He smiled

“We did? Ugh, what was it again?” I ask

“Well, we talked about it last night. You asked if I wanted to eat dinner at your place tonight.” I hummed,

“Really?! I can’t believe I forgot that. Well shall we go?” He nodded and we walked to my house. I’m guessing he’s gonna try to drug me again.

When we got to my house I instantly took his wrists in one hand and watched as his face flooded with red. I leaned in real close.

“S-stop. . .” He mumbled

“Stop?” I say

“W-why are you like this? I-I didn’t give you an aphrodisiac on you this time. Are you pent up?! I-is that why you pinned me? Because you’ve been pent up?” He was stuttering, obviously flustered by my actions.

“You give me what?” I ask

“N-nothing! H-hey, listen I’m right here to service you. O-okay? Yours to use until you're satisfied!” He gave a goofy smile and I removed myself from him stumbling and holding my head. I looked at Scaramouche and Tilted my head.

“Scara? W-what happened? Why are you red?” I ask, Scaramouche groaned and said I had gotten drunk but he was acting like a complete brat. So I obviously got enraged and pinned him to the wall once more.

“W-what the hell let me go!” I glared

“So I’m not worth servicing when I’m not drugged? Is that it?” I asked and Scaramouche instantly knew he fucked up. I ripped his hat off and dragged him to the bedroom where I tossed him onto the bed.

“Stop! Stop it! I don’t want this!” He cried.

“You didn’t want this? But if I remember you asked if I was pent up and that you were mine to use.” Scaramouche failed and shook his head.

“Please, I didn’t want this! Let me go!” I pinned his arms and looked at his face.

“Your eyes are already saying yes, now I just need your mouth to tell me the same.” I say, Scaramouche flushed red and tears spilled.

“P-please. . .”

“Use your words good boy, otherwise I won’t do a damn thing.” I said

“W-wanna be you fuck toy, please.” I hummed and yanked him off the bed. I turned us around and held him.

“Strip for me, Give one hell of a show.” He nodded and I sat down while he began stripping, letting me see everything. He was obviously shy about it but nonetheless I enjoyed it. When he finished I held out my hand and he took it. I pulled him to my body.

“That’s my good boy,” He straddled my lap, I led him close to my lips and he instantly latched his lips on mine and just moaned into the kiss. I used one hand to cup his erection and the other stayed on his ass.

“W-wait, m-mommy I’m supposed to serve you.” I smiled when Scara realized he covered his mouth.

“F-forget that.”

“It’s been a while since I've been called mommy, Be a good baby and keep with that title.” He whined and held me in a hug.

“M-mommy, I’m gonna cum.” He states and whines, I take my hand away and he drops his head on my shoulder.

“I was so close, You’re a big meanie mommy.” He said, I flipped us over and undressed my lower half. I straddled Scaramouche’s lap and slowly sank down. He tried to stop me but eventually went limp. I began riding him and Scaramouche’s cute little whines. He clawed at my thighs as I was riding so I laid on him.

“Something wrong Scara?” I ask

“W-what?” He asked

“Your hands.” He looked at my thighs and suddenly bucked into my hips which made me roll my eyes back, when I felt the warmth I knew that Scaramouche came in me!

“Scaramouche! You came inside me! Are you trying to make me a mom again?!” I scolded, He giggled and pulled me down to kiss me.

“Please have my baby, I wanna stay with you.” He sighed, falling asleep. I sighed and wiped him off and tucked him in before going to shower and rid myself of his cum before going and having Scara wrap his arms around me.

#genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #sub!genshin #genshin impact #Sub!Scaramouche #Favonian Archive

158 notes · View notes

some-kindofgnome · 4 years

Text

Kinktober 2020- Masterlist

What better way to debut my writing blog than a month of pure smut and debauchery? I’ve had a lot of fun putting these fics together, and I hope you enjoy reading them as the month goes on!

This year, I’m using jbbuckybarnes’ Kinktober 2020 prompt list. My entries will be mostly My Hero Academia, with a little MCU thrown in for flavour.

I will also be posting all of these on my AO3, so if you’d prefer to read them over there, feel free!

One personal note: My birthday is on the 13th, so I decided to make that day a self-indulgent ‘birthday sex’ fic that I think you’ll enjoy, too! I replaced the prompt on day 9 with the kink that was originally on day 13 because I vibed a little better with it :)

DISCLAIMER: All characters will be depicted as adults (18+) in adult situations. Any fics that take place in an academic setting are in college/university, NOT high school.

Additionally, the reader in all of these will present as female. I am female-presenting myself and I like to project, so they will all appear as such. I will definitely be exploring the idea of male/gender neutral readers in the future, so stay tuned!

If you’d rather not see Kinktober on your dash, all my fics will be tagged with #jbbKinktober2020 (as requested by jbbuckybarnes!) as well as #kinktober so you can feel free to block those tags.

Warnings specific to each fic will be included as each link is filled out.

All 31 entries will be listed under the cut:

Handjob (Kirishima) (w: handjob, studying/midterms, strong language, aged up characters)

Eating Out (Mirio) (w: oral sex (f-receiving), strong language, aged up characters)

Thigh Riding (Mirio) (w: nightclubs, drinking, tipsy dry humping, aged up characters, strong language)

Choking/Spanking (Bucky) (w: dom!Bucky/bratty sub!reader, discipline, spanking, choking, emotions, mentions of anxiety, aftercare)

Daddy Kink (Hawks) (w: daddy kink, dom!Hawks, vaginal sex, begging)

Blindfolded (Bakugou) (w: sensory deprivation, ice cubes, mentions of bondage, aged-up characters, strong language)

Blowjob (Mirio) (w: oral sex (m-receiving, mentions of f-receiving), fluff (FLUFF), aged up characters, public showers, strong language)

Voyeurism (Stucky) (w: VOYEURISM of the truest, you-don’t-know-you’re-being-watched kind. Vaginal sex. Male masturbation. Pining/angst.)

In Public (Hawks) (w: vaginal sex, up-against-the-wall-sex, partially-dressed, semi-public, uncaffienated sex, stranded/stalled elevator)

Knife Kink (Bucky) (w: knifeplay (no cutting), rough sex, definite dom!bucky vibes, angst)

Restraints (Kirishima) (w: smut (18+ please!), bondage, aged up characters, oral sex (m and f-receiving), vaginal sex, dom!reader and soft sub!Kirishima, aftercare)

Fingering (Bucky) (w: smut (18+ please!), public sex acts, opera, fingering, bucky’s metal hand)

Birthday Sex (Mirio) (w: quirkless Mirio, aged up characters, fluffy smut, fluffy fluff, this is tooth-achingly syrupy i mean it)

Sixty-Nine (Kirishima) (w: aged-up characters, face-sitting, oral sex (m&f receiving), sixty-nine)

Size Difference (Mirio) (w: Pro Hero Mirio, aged up characters, size kink, smaller reader, tummy bulge, vaginal sex, cock riding, police scanners)

Toys (Bucky) (w: toys, female masturbation, vaginal sex, Bucky finds you masturbating, then somehow it turns angsty.)

Begging (Hawks) (w: begging, needy sub!hawks, soft dom!reader, bondage, edging, teasing, vaginal sex, angst, a little bit of aftercare.)

In the kitchen (Bucky) (w: late-night kitchen sex, fluff, ice cream)

Threesome (Kirishima/Bakugou) (w: smut (18+ please!), aged up characters, fingering, awkward threesome, the softest bullshit you’ve ever seen)

Edging (Mirio) (w: aged up characters, fingering, teasing, edging, tears)

Phone Sex (Bucky) (w: phone sex, masturbation, shitty motel rooms, mentions of oral sex (f-receiving))

In the shower/tub (Mirio) (w: aged up characters, winter weather, bubble baths, reverse cowgirl (sort of?) vaginal fingering, fluff)

First time (Mirio) (w: Quirkless AU, first-time sex, car sex, pre-college angst, lots and lots and lOTS of fumbling and fluff)

BDSM/ Rough sex (Bakugou) (w: aged-up characters, jealous!bakugou, rough sex, rough oral sex (both m and f-receiving), cum swallowing, marathon fucking, spanking, choking if you squint, a little aftercare)

Caught masturbating (Mirio) (w: aged-up characters, college au, masturbation, being caught masturbating, implications of sex. Mentions of studying/midterms/headaches/related tension.)

Overstimulation (Bakugou) (w: aged-up characters, bratty sub!Bakugou, soft domme!reader, bondage, overstimulation, begging, cum play, dry orgasms)

Orgy (1-A) (w: aged-up characters, pro-hero Kiri, Bakugou, Denki, Jirou, Mina and Sero, group sex, polyamory, brief mentions of drinking, not a whole lot of attention paid to protection)

Praise Kink (Bucky) (w: mentions of violence/blood/death, trauma, trauma-induced stress/emotion, self-loathing/guilt, praise kink, sad and tender sex/oral sex, bucky cries afterward)

Dirty Talk (Bakugou) (w: aged-up characters, overworked pro hero Bakugou, movie theatre (public) sex, lots of dirty talk, Bakugou’s sailor mouth)

Mutual Masturbation (Kirishima) (w: aged-up characters, pro hero Kirishima, distant mentions of violence. masturbation (both m and f), fluff)

Dressed Up (Mirio) (w: aged-up characters, vampire Mirio, drinking, mentions of smoking, blood, vampirism, deception, a little bit of mindfuckery and manipulation.)

#my hero academia #marvel #kinktober #jbbKinktober2020 #kirishima x reader #mirio x reader #bucky x reader #hawks x reader #bakugou x reader #stucky x reader #kiribaku x reader #gnomewrites #fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

dreamingofaizawa · 4 years

Text

Guys My Age

Title and concept inspo: Guys My Age by Hey Violet

Soft Dom! Aizawa Shouta x Medium-sized Fem! Reader

Quirkless AU

***18+ Fic***

You must be at least 18 years old to participate in this reading. If you are under the age of 18 please step out of line and find another fic. Thank you and have a good day.

Warnings: Age gap, praise kink, DD/LG dynamic and terms, use of the words daddy and sir, light bondage, overstimulation, smut.

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note: I KNOW, I know, I write a lot of Aizawa fics, and they’re all DD/LG stuff. I know, okay? It’s an obsession, I’m in love with this man. Anyway, another soft dom Aizawa, but reader isn’t very well-versed in intimacy. Also, reader is what some would call medium-sized. Not necessarily big, but definitely not small. This is for all my medium-sized girls, including myself. I was very self-indulgent with this one.

Part 2

Enjoy~

You’d always been told you were mature for your age. It wasn’t until recently you realized how true that statement might be. You’re currently 21. And very, very single. You’ve had a total of six different relationships, and all of them fell through for one very simple reason. The boys you dated were just that. Boys. They were extremely immature. Only ever wanting to ‘hang with the boys’ or stay at home. No effort was put into the relationship on their part after the first few weeks. You didn’t understand why these vastly different boys were all so adamant on staying inside.

You’d tried desperately to get them to go out on dates with you. You offered to pay, and drive, and literally anything else. But no, they were too busy playing video games or getting higher than the damn sky. Don’t even start thinking about sex. You hadn’t got any of that shit since your first ‘boyfriend’ at 17, who used you like a sex doll and broke it off once he found someone hotter and sexier and altogether better in his eyes. You were sick of it. So you did the last thing you’d ever want to do. You went on a blind date.

You’d stumbled on a website last week that allowed you to set up a blind date with a stranger. It seemed legit, and had background checks on all participants. It also allowed you to put in any preferences you had, and matched you with someone that had similar preferences and hobbies. The age range you put in? 30-35 years old. Because guys your age just didn’t cut it. You needed someone more mature, someone who could treat you like a woman, not some girl.

Today, almost a week after matching with someone, you were standing outside an italian restaurant. You didn’t know his face, just his name and age, and that he was a teacher. Aizawa Shouta, 31 years old. And he’d sent a single message when you matched.

Meet me at this location on Saturday. When you enter, I’ll be at the back corner table. Semi-formal. 8 pm, please don’t be late.

It was blunt and straightforward. You liked it. You just hoped he wasn’t quite this blunt in person. You’d put on a black knee-length cocktail dress with a halter top and a partially open back that fell to the small of your back. It accentuated your shoulders and the top half of your torso before fanning out at your waist, the silky material falling and swaying around you.

You slipped on simple white heels and silver jewelry, with a white clutch purse. You’d decided to pull your hair into a loose half-up half-down, a silver comb pinning your hair in place, minimal makeup and clear lip gloss. For the first time in a while you felt pretty. You knew you weren’t exactly small, but the way you were dressed gave you confidence.

You looked at your watch. 7:55 pm. You took a deep breath, straightened out your dress, and stepped into the restaurant. The host asked if you had a reservation, and you told him you were meeting someone who already arrived. He let you pass, and you walked back to the table Aizawa told you to meet at. He had his back to you as you approached, but you could see his broad shoulders and muscular frame easily.

He wore a white long-sleeve button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a black vest fitted to his form. His slacks were also fitted, showing off his muscular thighs. His long raven hair was pulled in a half-up half-down similar to yours. You hadn’t even seen his face yet and he looked delicious.

Your heels clacked on the wood flooring, and as you neared the booth he turned to look at you. You stopped next to the table and got a good look at the stranger. He was beautiful. His dark bloodshot eyes looked tired, the bags underneath giving him away and only adding to his appeal, and a scar curved under his right eye. A sharp jawline, with a tamed scruff, and thin lips in a neutral expression. You were about to introduce yourself, but he stood from the booth and held his hand out, palm up. “You must be (y/l/n) (y/n).” You smiled at the gesture, and placed your hand in his. “That’s me. And you are Aizawa Shouta. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He pulled your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles, before leading you to your seat.

As he sat down, you noticed a bottle of wine sitting in the center of the table in a bucket of ice, and two glasses of wine halfway full. One sat in front of you, and the other in front of Aizawa. He began the conversation with a rather specific question. “So, (y/l/n), why are you on a dating website looking for men that are so much older than you?” Normally you’d take offense to a question like that, but the way he said it was pure curiosity. So, you answered. “If I’m being honest, it’s actually pretty simple. Guys my age just don’t know how to treat me.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, a barely noticeable smirk tugging at his lips. “And how do you want to be treated?” You smiled a little at the implications behind the question, and answered. “I don’t want to be stuck in my room while my ‘boyfriend’ plays video games and smokes weed. I don’t want to be ‘one of the boys’, and I don’t want to have to plead and beg to go on a date or spend time with him. I want to be treated like a woman, not a girl. And I want to spend my time with a man, not waste it on a boy.”

At that, Aizawa smirked and sipped at his wine. You both took a quick look at the menu and ordered when the waiter came. As you ate, you talked about random subjects and hit it off quite well. The date went by quickly, and at the end of the night you’d exchanged numbers. “I look forward to another date with you, Ms. (y/l/n).” “The feeling is mutual, Mr. Aizawa.”

When you got back home, you undressed and cleaned your face and got into bed. As you lay there, your mind drifted back to the date, and how undeniably handsome Aizawa is. The way he spoke to you like you were his equal, and looking at you like an ancient treasure. He was everything you wanted, without even considering anything sexual. Little did you know he felt much the same way.

____

When the date ended he texted Hizashi to let him know he was free. Hizashi, of course, called him immediately, and began drilling him about the date. “How’d it go Sho? Was it a rando with a thing for older guys? Did she want a sugar daddy?” Shouta rolled his eyes. “No, Zashi, she wasn’t looking for a sugar daddy. She was...actually really mature for a 21 year old. She knows what she wants. I admire that a little. And I won’t lie, she’s quite beautiful. Not the generic, model, beauty-pageant, barbie doll pretty. It’s a natural glow she has. It’s...quite mesmerizing...”

Hizashi exploded on the other side, laughing at the new infatuation his friend had for a blind date. “I hope she’s your type, Sho. I mean physically. I know how much you like them with a little meat on their bones.” Aizawa groaned at his comment. He knew he was just teasing, but that his blonde friend was 100% right. He knew he had a type, and he’d be lying to himself if he hadn’t looked at your full figure quite frequently.

He’d taken in your dress, how it showed off your shoulders and back. As you climbed into your car and took off your heels, he trailed his eyes up your legs, getting a small glimpse at your thick thighs. When you sat up behind the wheel, he revelled in the small rolls showing through your dress, wanting nothing more than to squeeze them and kiss them and bite them...

He shook away the thoughts that were threatening to take over his mind. “Shut it Hizashi. Her body is none of my concern, and is most definitely none of yours. I enjoyed the date and that’s what matters.” The loud blonde gasped dramatically, “Oh my god she totally is! Damn you go get some Sho!” Aizawa just ended the call.

The next date was planned once again by Aizawa, and it was only a week after the first. It was a simple coffee date at a small cafe. You talked casually about the things you enjoyed doing. You convinced him to let you take care of the next date, which you decided would be a relaxed ramen date. You’d gotten comfortable around each other, and after about six more dates, he invited you over to his place for dinner. Of course, you accepted.

He’d sent you the address and apartment number, and you stood outside his door in dark jeans, black flats, and a beige sweater with a white tank top underneath. You knocked on the door, and when it opened he greeted you with a peck on the cheek. It had become a normal greeting, since you’d gotten so close, though the gesture always made you a little shy. He told you to get comfortable as he finished up dinner, and you sat at the kitchen table and admired him as he worked in the kitchen. He wore fitted blue denim jeans, and a black cotton t-shirt, his hair pulled up in a bun.

No matter how many times you looked at him, he was always just as shockingly handsome as the first time you saw him. His t-shirt left his toned arms exposed, and it was fitted to his torso, showing off his muscular frame. Your eyes traced the outline of his muscles from his shoulder, down his arm, drifting to his hips and up his back. You didn’t notice him glance back and smirk at you. “Like what you see kitty cat?” Heat rushed to your face at the realization that you’d been staring, and the fact that he’d noticed. And that name… “K-kitty?” you barely whispered, before quickly apologizing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

You didn’t think he heard the first part. You were wrong. “It’s alright. And yes, kitty. Don’t like the pet name?” Your face burned at the tone of his voice. “N-no, the name’s fine, you just...caught me off guard.” He chuckled. “I should do it more often. You’re cute when you’re flustered.” You didn’t think your face could get any hotter, but it did. You tilted your head down and away from him and bit your lip, letting your hair fall to hide your face. You’d never gotten this kind of attention before, and you had no idea how to handle it.

You were too busy trying to calm your breathing to hear him approach you. The proximity and demanding tone of his voice made you jump a little. “Look at me, kitten.” You swallowed and took a breath before turning your head to him, and he hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head so you were forced to sit up taller. He moved even closer, your shoulder brushing against his abdomen, and you nearly had to look straight up to look in his eyes.

Your eyes began to drift away from his, and he jerked your chin up higher, silently commanding you not to look away. You brought your eyes back to his and held his gaze, and after a few moments he smirked. The hand under your chin moved to stroke your cheek with his knuckles. “Good girl.”

He quickly dropped his hand and went back to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. It took you a few seconds to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You panted a little, trying to calm yourself from what just happened, and clasped your shaking hands together. But they weren’t shaking from fear. In fact, you couldn’t quite tell why you were so shaky and out of breath. And the praise from him sent a shiver down your spine.

He managed to distract you while you ate, and you had completely recovered from whatever that was earlier. After dinner you moved into the living room and relaxed on the couch while you talked some more. Soon he’d leaned his head back and closed his eyes, still talking and listening, but clearly relaxed. Once again you found yourself distracted by his body, following the muscles in his neck down to his toned chest and abdomen. And again, he noticed. “I can feel your eyes on me, kitten.” His voice was low, a rumble of smooth baritone. You found yourself turning away to hide your face again, and the command in his voice controlled you with ease.

“Don’t look away from me, kitten.” You turned back to him, and when your eyes met his, you looked away, and he let out a low growl and your eyes snapped back to him. He adjusted and sat up, your eyes still fixed on each other. He pat his leg, “Come here kitty.” You blinked at him, not quite prepared for such a demand. His eyes darkened a little and his voice dropped to a growl, “I won’t ask twice.”

At that you got up and went to sit on one of his legs, but he pulled his knees together and shook his head. So you climbed over and straddled his legs on your knees. He grabbed your hips and pulled you so you were fully sitting on his lap, your core dangerously close to his growing bulge.

Your eyes were still locked on his as he leaned close to you, his hands rubbing circles into your hips. He leaned past your face and whispered into your ear. “Can I touch you kitty?” You took a shaky breath and nodded. He laid a light spank on your ass and you jumped. “Use your words kitty cat.” “Y-yes, you can t-touch me.” He laid a kiss on your neck and whispered ‘good girl’ before moving his hands under your sweater and tank top. He ran his hands up and down your back, and he gripped the fatty flesh of your stomach and hips, kneading it in his palms gently as he worked his way up your body, leaving feather light kisses along your neck and jaw.

The intimacy had you quivering, and the way he nearly worshipped your body had your breaths coming out shaky and heavy. Shouta caught on quickly. “Is it safe for me to assume you haven’t done anything in a while?” he said in your ear. You started to nod, but quickly caught yourself, “Y-yes.” He stilled his movements and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Tell me what you did before this.” You took a breath and explained the situation as simply and quickly as possible.

His arms tensed, clearly upset that you’d been used like that. But he didn’t pry into that right now. “So you haven’t explored anything? Like any preferences you might have?” You shook your head quickly, “N-no...why?” He chuckled. “Well, kitty, you’re quite submissive. If you’d let me, I can help you explore this side of you.” You swallowed and nodded. “Y-yeah, I think I’d like that.” He hummed into your neck, “We can start tonight, but only if you’re comfortable and you want to.” You took a few moments to think about your answer. This man had been nothing but good to you. He treated you with more respect than all the boys you dated had combined. And you trusted him. “I...I’m comfortable starting tonight.”

“Alright kitty. Now, listen to me closely, because this is important, okay?” “Okay, I’m listening.” “Good. Since this is new to you, we need to establish a safeword. Is ‘roses’ alright?” You nod. “Okay. Now if anything ever gets too much for you, if you feel uncomfortable for any reason, if you need to stop for any reason, or if there’s a medical emergency, you need to use it. And that goes for me too. If I don’t like where things are going, I’ll use it. Once we use the safeword, everything will stop right there, no questions asked. Understand?”

“I understand.” “Okay. Can I trust you to use it if you feel the need to?” You nod, “Yes. I’ll use it if I need to.” He kisses your neck, “Good girl.” The praise makes you shudder, and you feel him smile into your neck. “Now, kitty, I want you to address me as either ‘Daddy’, ‘Sir’, or ‘Master’ when we’re like this, do you understand?” “Yes.” He spanks you a little harder. “Yes what?” You jump at the contact “Y-yes Sir.” Another kiss on your neck, “Good girl.” He leans back and taps your arms, “Up.” You lift your arms and he pulls off your sweater and tank top at the same time.

His hands come back down on your shoulders, and he runs his hands down your chest and stomach, taking the time to remove your bra and knead your breasts. He wraps his arms around you and stands up, and you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom. He puts you down on the bed on your back and takes a rope out of the bedside table. You let him take your hands and tie your wrists to the bar at the headboard. It’s not uncomfortably tight, but a few experimental tugs tell you it’s solid and you won’t be getting out of it unless he unties you.

He trails kisses down your body, unbuttoning your jeans and removing them as he goes. Once your jeans are off, he loops his fingers in the band of your panties and pulls them off. After that, he leans back and just rakes his eyes up and down your body, eating up every inch of your skin. “You’re such a pretty kitty.” His words have you shuddering and blushing. You’d never been called pretty before, and you knew why. You were a little bigger than other girls. You weren’t necessarily insecure about it. You didn’t care all that much about how people saw you with just your looks alone. But you knew Shouta was admiring your body after knowing who you are as a person, and it made you a little giddy.

His mouth and hands were all over you, squeezing and groping, sucking bruises onto your skin. His touches were sending waves of heat through your body, and pooling between your legs. You desperately wanted him to touch you there, and you whined and rolled your hips up into the air. “Such a needy kitty. Be patient. I’m not done here yet.” He rolled a nipple in between his index and thumb, pulling the other into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. You mewled at the sensation, and he switched his mouth over to the other side.

Your legs were rubbing together, begging for friction, and he finally moved down to your dripping core. He took a finger and slipped it over your folds. He groaned as his finger collected your slick, “You’re so wet kitty. Are you this wet for me?” You nodded your head frantically, and he laid a light smack on your pussy. You let out a soft whimper, “Yes Sir, it’s for you,” you answered quickly. He hummed, “Good girl. I didn’t even need to remind you to use your words.” He kissed the inside of your thigh, and moved to lick a stripe up your folds. You gasped at the new feeling, never having anyone’s mouth down there before.

He slipped the pink muscle into you easily, groaning when he tasted you. The sound sent vibrations through your dripping cunt, making you squirm at the pleasure. He looped his arms around your legs, dipping his fingers into your core and using the slick to rub tight circles onto your clit. An unfamiliar sensation built in the pit of your stomach, your muscles tightening in your abdomen as it got stronger. You knit your eyebrows together, and in between heavy breaths you gasped out, “S-sir...it feels strange.” He raised his eyebrows at the statement, and increased his pace until that coil inside you snapped, which didn’t take very long.

Your back arched off the bed as you let out a loud, sharp moan, your legs shaking from the intensity of your first orgasm. Aizawa kept lapping at your pussy, letting you ride out your high, and once you were relaxed and panting on the bed, he lifted his head and wiped his chin. “Kitty, have you never cum before?” He asked, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You shake your head, “No S-sir...Is that what just happened?” He chuckled, but didn’t answer the question, “You’re going to have fun tonight kitty.” You didn’t have time to question what he meant, though, because he slipped a thick finger into your core, and you mewled as your walls clenched down on him.

The game he played went on for what felt like hours, and you lost count of how many times he’s made you cum. He’d fucked you and cum multiple times himself. You’d already squirted several times, and tears were streaming down your face from the overstimulation. It felt so good, but it was starting to melt your brain and the title of ‘Sir’ drifted to ‘Daddy’ as it went on. All the muscles in your body were burning from flexing so hard, and your wrists were feeling raw from how hard you’d been tugging at your restraints. It felt so, so good...but it was too much. He leaned down close to your face and kissed at the tears, “You’re doing so well babygirl. You got one more for me?”

You giggled lightly at the praise, your mind fuzzy, unable to form coherent thoughts as he thrust his hips into you. He stilled his movements and caressed your jaw. “How are you feeling, kitten?” Your eyes looked up into his, struggling to stay open. You giggled a little as you answered. “It’s… I f-feel…” You knit your eyebrows together in concentration, searching your brain. “R-roses?”

Everything stopped, and he instantly reached up and tugged off your restraints, and pulled your exhausted body close to his chest. Your breathing got heavier, and your chest got tight, and fresh tears fell down your cheeks. He held you tight, kissing your tears and petting your hair as your cries died down. He held you like that until your breathing was normal again. You slowly opened your eyes, weakly calling out to him, “Daddy?” He kissed your forehead, “I’m right here kitten. Tell me what you need.” You nuzzled your head into his neck and mumbled, “Water. Can I have water?” He wrapped you in a soft blanket and stood up, carrying you with him. “Anything for my kitten.”

He set you on the counter and made a glass of iced water, holding it up to your lips. As you sipped, he rubbed your back and kissed your forehead and neck, and he didn’t stop or move until you had drained the cup. He left it in the sink and picked you up again, taking you to the bathroom and filling the tub with warm water. He turned off the tap, took off your blanket, and carried you into the tub. He washed the both of you, massaging your scalp, and you let out a sound like a pur, which he smiled at.

When he was done, he stood you up and wrapped you in a fluffy towel, dried himself with one, and carried you back to bed. You curled into him, and he wrapped his arms around you. “Are you okay (y/n)?” You nodded into his chest, “Yeah, I’m okay. It was just intense.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, “Thank you for using the safeword. You did so well for me kitten, trusting me like that.” You nuzzled into his chest some more, relishing in the heat his body gave.

You loved the praise he gave you. It made you feel warm and fuzzy in your belly, and it felt so good. Soon you were drifting into a deep sleep, comfortable in Shouta’s arms. This was nice. You’d be happy to let him guide you, let him take care of you like this. One thought drifted through your head as you drifted.

‘Guys my age could never.’

#aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #aizawa #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta x fem reader #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x fem reader #aizawa shouta smut #shouta aizawa smut #aizawa shouta bnha #aizawa shouta mha #shouta aizawa bnha #shouta aizawa mha #dom aizawa

967 notes · View notes

lifeiszestyy · 2 years

Photo

*my writing from 2021 from January 1st to December 31st!

*i wrote 800,009 words instead of going to therapy and i did not have the TIME to reread all of it, but i feel as though each of these represent the core of each of my major stories that i wrote this year. i definitely feel accomplished since one of my major hang-ups from the past decade was that i was always too tired from depression and anemia to sit down and write. the downside of writing a lot is, bro, writing for 5+hours a day is not recommended, i don’t recommend it, please take breaks and stretch unlike me. i Have Not exercised since april

*’2021 Drabbles’ and ‘A Thousand Masks’ are part of a Super Mario fanfic project i have with my sister @juliettelime . ‘hmm expl gam’ was a short story where i wanted to explore a scenario i would never put my ocs through in canon. the characters are from the novel i’m planning. ‘lost souls’ is my 670,000+ word self therapy. absolutely self-indulgent and it helped me rediscover my inner hopeless romantic whomst i buried long ago. and ‘love’ is a poem that i wrote as a result of healing from my past relationship trauma

*the first piece of writing is from 1/1/2021 and the last was written today, 12/31/2021 a few hours ago. it’s still a few hours until midnight where i live

*thanks much if you read 🥺💕 onto 2022~!

*transcript under the cut!

2021 Drabbles – 01/01 Brighton January 01

He paced back and forth, a smile on his face. This time, for sure, he’ll get the upper hand on Twila. No more played out draws, no more incidental ties. It had been, what, three thousand or so years since their rivalry started? His chosen players were sure to be the Superstar. Sure, Mario doesn’t always win, but the chances of him winning are pretty high, right? And even if none of his players win (which certainly can’t happen), at least they’ll make the game exciting. They always do! The drama! The pizzazz! The last second bonus star wins! Getting ahead early in the game only to lose it all! Nothing’s better than a party tournament.

Hmm Expl Gam February 25

“Woah, who ordered shrimp?” says Chester from the front seat. He turns around and smirks. “Just kidding. Name’s Chester.” “Oh, so you’re the asshole Jez warned me about.” “I can neither confirm nor deny.” “I can confirm,” says Frey. “So can I,” says Mike as he gets into the car. “Me, too,” says Sven as he also gets in. “Why did James have to ditch me in these trying times?” Chester says with a fake pout.

Lost Souls [1] – 1.06.02.01 5th Dream May 11

“I don’t want you to forget what it feels like to be unloved, to be used, and to be alone.” She suddenly grabs his head with both hands. “Because I’m still there in these memories, and it hurts! I’m so lonely! No one loves me! No one cares!” He shuts his eyes, but the tears fall freely as his heart feels like it’s about to burst. The pain of being used, the pain of being unwanted, and her voice repeating over and over in his mind.

Lost Souls [2] – 1.06.30.04 Entelecheia June 29

Because analyzing your own behavior is a difficult matter. We can only see so much of ourselves. And we tend to be biased towards certain ideas. You thought that I was going to show you a flashback, a memory. No, I do not deal in memories. I deal in reality, in the present. I can only show you how things are rather than how things could be. Entelechy is the realization of potential and a manifestation of the soul. You must do the work in order to manifest your potential, and you do so by understanding your soul. Who are you, Kade? Do you know? Do you want to know the truth?

love August 22

a kiss on your cheek to remind you where you are a kiss on your lips to remind you who you are

a hand on your back to keep you steady a hand on your heart from a lover who sees you

a kiss on the ear from a lover who hears you fingers intertwined with a lover who loves you

Lost Souls [3] – 1.09.24.01 Chirality August 22

I’m tired, tired, tired, tired. “I know. Me, too. But we can’t rest. We have stories to write and new, better people to meet. It’s not time to end things, not yet.” You do not want me. I am a distraction, a roadblock. You always seek to get rid of me as quickly as possible. “But… I need you to remind me of what’s important. There’s no such thing as a life without pain. Come on. We can rest.”

A Thousand Masks – Chapter 44 September 27

“Eh? Laws are just guidelines. They don’t prevent disorder or chaos, and they aren’t morally correct. They were made by flawed beings. I thought you adults knew everything?” “Little one, I also thought adults knew everything. They seem so confident in how they talk about what they know.” “Aren’t you an adult now, Blumi?” Blumiere chuckled softly. “As it turns out, you don’t just magically gain wisdom once you turn a certain age. I still feel like a child sometimes.” “Like right now?” “Yes.” He sighed again and looked at the child. “Sometimes, you sound like an old man.” The child smiled sweetly. “Even though I’m a brat?”

A Thousand Masks – Chapter 46 September 27

The person I was, the person I used to be, he was buried under so many layers of pain, memories upon memories of death and birth and love and hate and vengeance and brief moments of respite under the stars and the moon and the sun. The memory of a boy sitting under a palm tree by the river, crying, having just lost his parents in an accident that he had no control over. The memory of a boy meeting the daughter of the man he was apprenticed to, her, revealing the trajectory of his life through cards. The memory of a boy with a heart full of love and hope for the future he thought was within his grasp. A perfect world full of magic with her by his side, their fingers locked together.

Lost Souls [4] – 1.12.31.01 New Year’s Eve November 28

“Yes, well, that’s the creative process, isn’t it? Your original concepts may not survive the transition to newer, edited versions. Things change, people, concepts, even the great spirits and the deities themselves. It’s what you make of those changes that’s important. Once you find something that makes sense, you can create a more solid foundation. Your earlier versions of your creative realms and the characters that inhabited them were half formed. But that’s not a bad thing. Those are the steps that were necessary to get better, to improve. But you figured out what worked and have built on it little by little. And I’m proud of you. Beyond what you’ve accomplished here in this realm, I’m proud that you found something to hold onto. This year you began a new journey of self-discovery, and now, here at the end, you’ve blossomed into a wonderfully creative person. I’m excited to see where you go from here.”

#zest writing #zest bloggin #sparkle star galaxy

16 notes · View notes

marvelslut16 · 4 years

Text

I trust you

Prompt number: 31 “I trust you”

Fandom: Marvel

Paring: Bucky Barnes x reader

Part two to Trust me for once.

Rating: T

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Swearing. Mentions blood, violence, and death. A lil angst.

A/N: I just want to write for Bucky for the rest of fictober, someone stop me please. I don’t know why I love this fic so much, but I do. Maybe it’s my lack of sleep messing with me lmao. I passed 500 followers and I can’t possibly begin to explain how much that means to me and how much I love each and every one of you! When I started my Tumblr last year to write some shitty self indulgent fanfics I never thought anyone would ever read them. I never imagined having 500 people following my shitty blog.

In the week and a half since Hydra had captured you, Bucky has been spiraling. When he got to the quinjet and turned to look for you, his heart fell into the pit of his stomach when he couldn’t find you. Everything you had said to him in the warehouse started to make more sense, you phrashed things a specific way; ‘so long as it gets you out of here safely.’ He knew you weren’t coming, but he still made Steve keep the quinjet there and wait until it was almost too late and the team was under attack again.

Back at the compound Bucky spends all of his time in his room or down in the gym punching- and breaking- one of the many punching bags, throwing his knives at targets, and working on his shooting. He isn’t sleeping and he isn’t eating, he won’t even talk to Steve when the super soldier tries to get him to talk- whether it be about what happened in the warehouse or anything in general.

Steve, Sam, and Tony are exhausting every resource they have to find you, Hydra had moved you to another location as soon as the quinjet was out of sight of the base. On the rare occasion Bucky isn’t in the gym or his room, he's hovering over the shoulders of the three men hoping he’ll see something they missed. He doesn’t, and only succeeds in annoying aforementioned men with his brooding stares and silence.

Bucky has nightmares on a daily basis again, something that his time in Wakanda with Shuri and T’Challa had gotten rid of. The only difference this time is he doesn’t see himself. He sees everything he went through, all the tourture he endured and the innocent bloodshed, but instead of him you’re in his shoes. He watches you get your brain turned into mush in the damn chair. He watches you forgetting everyone- forgetting him- and then going after the Avengers because you don’t know any better. He can never wake up from the nightmares, he’s stuck in them until he watches you die or you kill him.

Twelve days after you’re taken, Bucky's down in the gym, sitting on a chair because the memories of you in the warehouse are consuming him. You saying that he hates you and to just trust you for once are playing on repeat. How could you think he doesn't trust you?

“I trust you!” he screams into the empty gym, wishing he’d told you so in the warehouse, hurling the knife that was resting in his hand into the wall across from him. He goes to run his hands through his long strands of hair, forgetting he had cut most of it off, something you would refer to as pulling a Britney. He has no idea what that even means, but you say it everytime you or Nat impulsively cut your hair super short. Instead he pushes the palms of his hands into his eyes, trying to push the memories away. “I could never hate you.”

Steve enters the gym quietly, observing his best friend for a few minutes. He’s never seen him this bad before, not even when he was consumed by guilt when he realized all of the innocent lives that were lost by his hands. Steve was aware that Bucky has had feelings for you since he saw you, immediately becoming infatuated with your beauty. His feelings continued to grow when he learned your humor, sarcasm, intelligence, and saw your skill in battle. Steve knew Bucky was intimidated and nervous, not as skilled with the women like he was seventy years ago and that’s why he didn’t talk to you, but Steve never realized that Bucky cared this much.

“Hey Buck,” Steve finally speaks, causing Bucky to stand up and pretend he wasn’t just having a breakdown. “We’ve got something.”

Bucky doesn’t verbally respond, instead he brushes past Steve and walks out of the gym. Steve quickly leads the way to the lab, filling Bucky in on the new development. Hydra is streaming a live feed of you chained to a chair right to every computer and television screen in the compound. When the two get to the lab, packed with the rest of the Avengers huddling around the same screen, Bucky see’s you for the first time in twelve days. The first time you aren’t a figment of his imagination. You’re bruised and bloody: split lip with dried blood on your chin; dried blood on your forehead from where you must have wiped the blood from the cut on your eyebrow so it didn’t drip into your eyes before you were chained to the chair; you’re left eye black, blue, and bruised; your skin has a yellow hue and your cheeks are hollow from malnutrition.

Bucky wants to scream, he wants to put a fist through a wall, and he wants to kill whoever laid a hand on you. The Avengers watch quietly as he squeezes through the gaps in the group's huddle so he can be by the screen. By you. You aren’t staring at the camera, instead staring straight in front of you, where he imagines Hydra agents are standing.

“You don’t want another Winter Soldier,” your voice is the exact opposite of your appearance, it’s still so strong and determined. “You want the Winter Soldier. You wanted us to intercept the messages and show up at the base, it was an ambush.”

“Very good, Ms. (Y/L/N),” a man speaks off screen, he has a thick Russian accent, but Bucky doesn’t recognize it. “The only problem was that you seemed to figure it out that day, and ruined our plans.”

“Oops?” your sarcasm garners another slap, the ring on the man's hand causing a gash on your cheekbone. “It’s been what, over a week? How long are you gonna keep me?”

“Until Soldat switches places with you,” you let out a loud bark of a laugh that echoes off the walls in the small room.

“Bucky, your Soldat, he won’t sacrifice himself for me,” you laugh at the man interrogating you.

“We learned of his affections for you-” you cut him off with another laugh.

“You need to fire whoever told you that,” you can’t stop laughing at the absurdity that came out of the Hydra agents mouth. And you don’t care if he becomes angry and annoyed with you, you’re gonna get killed no matter what. Your eyes quickly flick to the camera set up on your left, the one the Hydra agents thought you hadn’t seen, before continuing knowing the Avengers had to be seeing all of this. “The only affection Bucky has for me is hatred. He hates me, there’s no way he’d switch places for little old me. You should have captured literally anyone else if you wanted him to be upset. He can’t stand me! We can’t even hold a simple conversation, and he always leaves the room when I’m in it. We were only paired up on this mission because of a fluke accident. Face it, you fucked up. I’m worthless to your Soldat.”

“That’s not true!” Bucky feels like he’s yelling it at the screen, but his protest is only a whisper. The rest of the team watches him with sad eyes, he’s looking at you so longingly. Trying to will you to understand how he feels about you through the screen. As if on cue, you glance at the camera again, giving it a sd smile, accepting your fate. A loud ping comes from one of the computers in the lab, but Bucky keeps eye contact with you, even though he knows you can’t see. He doesn’t realize he’s doing it until his flesh hand is pressed against the television.

“We’ve got a location!” Tony yells, already calling for his suit.

“Then you’re worthless to me!” the hydra agent growls, stopping the team in their tracks who were on their way to change.

“No,” Bucky pleads, when he hears the safety of a gun clicking off.

“Any last words for your precious Avengers?” the man asks you, gesturing to the camera, he hadn’t noticed you’d already seen it.

“I’d say tell my family I love them,” you’re openly talking to the camera now. “But I don’t have any. So thank you for being the family I never had, and the family I always wanted. I love every single one of you.”

A tear slips from your non swollen eye, a matching one rolling down Bucky’s cheek. The screen goes black, a gun goes off, and then the feed cuts completely. “No!” he screams, going to punch a hole in the television, but his fist goes right through due to it being Stark technology.

“Where are you going?” Steve calls as Bucky heads to exit to the lab, no one else moving, too shocked to register everything that just happened.

“Let’s go kill those bastards,” is his gruff response, heading towards the hanger with the Quinjet since he’s already dressed in his tactical gear from his time in the gym.

Steve and Tony are the first ones dressed and ready to go, but the latter hangs back so Steve can talk to his best friend privately. Steve doesn’t say anything when he sits beside the brunette, he doesn’t know where to begin.

“(Y/N) died thinking I hated her Stevie,” Bucky’s voice breaks. “I kept my distance cause I didn’t want to hurt her. And then I saw her with Sam and I was jealous so I started to ignore her more. I pushed her away because I was scared and jealous. And now she’ll never know that I love her.”

A shot rings through the small room you’re stuck in, the bullet lodging into the wall beside your head. You glance at the camera, finding the red light off. Your team, your family thinks you're dead. That was his damn plan, he knows they’ll come to avenge you.

“Sit tight,” he smirks, the barrel of his gun coming into contact with your skull, effectively knocking you out.

Your head is heavy and pounding in pain when you finally come to. Outside the door you can hear screams and guns going off at rapid speed. You cringe away from the sound when someone uses their body to break open the door to your room. The sound of familiar footsteps clomping towards you causes you to perk up, it’s Bucky. You can’t open your eyes or even move your head towards the sound to alert him that you’re okay, but you hear a whispered “thank god,” when he hears your steady heartbeat. From the crunching sound you can tell Bucky used his vibranium hand to crush the handcuffs keeping you attached to the chair.

He picks you up bridal style, holding you close to his warm chest. You involuntarily cuddle into the warmth, causing Bucky to smile lovingly down at you. “I’ve got you now,” he whispers, hand caressing your cheek, careful not to put pressure on your many cuts.

When you wake up again, you're in the familiar sterile medbay at the compound. A heavy weight is on your hand, looking over you notice it’s Bucky's hands clutching yours, his head tipped back on the seat he’s in.

“He hasn’t left your side,” Sam smirks at the scene from the doorway, holding a falcon stuffed animal. You playfully roll your eyes at the gift, but reach for it with your free hand. Bucky starts to stir, so Sam gives you a kiss on the forehead and heads for the door again. “Tinman’s whipped.”

The first thing you notice when you glance at Bucky again is his hair. He cut it all off when you were gone. As much as you loved his luscious locks and thought he was hot with them, he’s undeniably sexy with the short hairstyle. “You cut your hair,” Bucky immediately wakes up the rest of the way at your voice, ocean blue eyes staring into yours. “It looks good on you.”

“You could have died,” his voice exasperated. “And the first thing you mention is my hair. I’ve been worried sick, (Y/N)!”

“I was fine,” you roll your eyes, trying not to think of just how close to death you came. “I’m fine now.”

“Next mission I get to call the shots,” he grumbles. “I’m not having the woman I love almost die for me again.”

“I love you too Buck,” you ignore the fact that he didn’t mean for you to hear his confession. “Why else would I be willing to die for you?”

He shoots out of his seat, eyes wide as he stares down at you. You push up to a sitting position, moving to the side of the bed, motioning for Bucky to lay beside you. He seems to debate with himself about whether he should or not, before finally laying down and gently pulling you into his arms. You crane your neck up to look into his eyes, he leans down and your lips meet timidly at first. It quickly turns into a slow loving kiss, the two of you wanting to prolong for as long as you can. You reach a hand up, caressing his face before slipping it through his now short locks.

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny @mrs-malfoy-always

#bucky barnes x reader #fictober20 #day 13 of fictober #bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction

429 notes · View notes

katytheinspiredworkaholic · 3 years

Text

Correspondence, Chapter 03

Pairing: HotchReid

Summary: An AU where Reid never joined the FBI, but got roped into consulting for the LA field office while working and teaching at Caltech. Hotch gets his email referred from a fellow agent, and they start to work on cases together -- until they start talking on a regular basis. Regular becomes frequent, frequent becomes constant. They know nothing about each other, but they don't really mind.

Rating: Mature/Explicit (eventually)

Chapter CW/notes: Mentions of alcohol, a very long conversation happens where Hotch is a little buzzed. Big, BIG focus on their age difference, and unintentional misinformation. Spencer has no idea Hotch thinks he’s older, or at least not OLD older, and gets a little panicky/clams up -- and yes I realize Hotch could just background check him and find it out but he respects the man enough to not do that. The chapter is linear, it just encompasses a lot of time passing so hopefully that’s not too confusing. Set in season 6, self beta’d.

Word Count: 5025

Masterpost Link

Ao3 Link

Chapter 03

Early September 2010

And so, it begins.

The dynamic shift, the vast change in how Hotch and Dr. Reid had been corresponding for the past few months. Evolving from something so professional and academic to something… looser. More freeing. More room for error, of course, but the risk turns out to be more than worth it for what they gain.

The texts are sporadic, at first. Short interactions, here and there, all stemming from that first, longer conversation about Jack. Hotch follows up the very next day, after he gets to talk to his son in the morning over pancakes. Jessica hovering nearby the whole time. She had apologized for her harsh words, and commended him after the fact how he’d approached Jack on the subject and led the little boy into a conversation rather than a lecture like his teachers had done. Because, as Spencer had mentioned -- there was no need for one. Jack already had the situation handled.

[]6/4, 12:39[] You were right.

[]6/4, 12:39[] He invited the kid that was bullying him over for a playdate. Trying to win him over by killing him with kindness.

[]6/4, 12:43[] My kind of kid.

[]6/4, 12:44[] You’ve taught him well, Hotch.

And that was it. That was all it took to kick off what turns into a frequent occurrence. Slowly, as time passes, their quick texts turn to conversations that naturally revert to work. It’s where they spend most of their time, after all, and what they had bonded over in the first place. But unlike in their emails, it isn’t just about the cases or profiles or statistics required to crack them. It’s much more opinionated than that, erratic in it’s content and frequency. Commentary on Hotch’s team, ideas on the cases they work, case studies and research projects and sometimes even just office gossip that somehow always makes its way to Hotch’s attention despite everyone trying to keep it from doing so.

Or just Dr. Reid observing their antics. This is the beginning of the tonal shift, and Hotch can’t help but think… it just might be a welcome one.

[]6/12, 10:03[] Your tech analyst always sends me rainbow font emails.

[]6/12, 10:07[] Yes, she’s doing that with everyone on the team. It’s Pride month and she’s being supportive.

[]6/12, 10:11[] She considers me a part of the team? How sweet of her.

[]6/12, 10:12[] You are, and as far as the bureau goes you might as well be.

[]6/12, 10:13[] I doubt I could sneak you into payroll, though.

[]6/12, 10:21[] I bet Ms. Garcia could.

[]6/12, 10:28[] Don’t. Say. Anything.

[]6/12, 10:29[] But yes, she could.

It turns into a small reprieve, for Hotch, in the constant deluge of bureaucracy and violence that fills his work day. The single moment he allows a sliver of himself to appear through the cracks of his armor he has to wear to guard himself from it all. To be the stoic leader the team needs, the unmovable tree in the storm.

Only in his quick, typed under the table conversations he has with Spencer does he allow himself the slips of humor. Barely there traces of a smile. Finding the smallest spots of light in his dark days, in his work that can surround and consume to the point of suffocation. Hotch thrives in it, he always has -- while others have drowned. But he doesn’t mind finding this small self-indulgence. Making the decision for himself that he can joke and poke fun at his work and not feel guilty about it. That, for once, he can allow himself this.

Until one day, Spencer returns the favor -- and starts talking about his own work.

[]7/21, 16:17[] If I leave all of my Ph.D. applicants in a ditch in the desert, is that still murder?

[]7/21, 16:30[] Technically or hypothetically?

[]7/21, 16:34[] Different question, would you be my legal council if I snap and it happens anyway?

[]7/21, 16:37[] Of course.

[]7/21, 16:38[] But as your attorney, I have to advise you that we never had this conversation, and murder is wrong.

[]7/21, 16:40[] Hypothetically.

Spencer takes a little longer to open up, but when he does it is through this window into an academic world Hotch had never planned or thought he would ever be privy to. He begins to reveal pieces of it, bit by bit, until Hotch starts to form a picture in his mind of what shape this professor’s life really takes. Making deductions based on his speech patterns, what goes on throughout his day, his word choices, and profiling the man through text message without even meaning to.

He tries to put a stop to it as soon as he realizes this. Dr. Reid isn’t just a consultant anymore, he is his friend -- and Hotch will always do his utmost to not profile his friends. But it’s a little too late for some aspects that can’t help but stand out as time goes on. Such as the inkling that the other man probably isn’t senile with a cane and a stooped back, like Hotch had first thought. Certain parts of his day allude to someone who is a bit fresher to the academic scene -- instead of spending decades on a college campus.

But Hotch sets that aside, to be scrutinized at a later date, and instead turns his focus into enjoying what Spencer has to offer him. As his friend. The stories he shares freely, now that they’ve spent all this time breaking down the barriers. He regales Hotch with his own daily problems, grievances, as well as the little bright spots that he just wants to share with Hotch so that it can lighten up his own days. Which were much more bleak, and crowded with danger and horrid things.

Hotch lives for those messages.

[]7/28, 20:42[] So I have a godson.

[]7/28, 20:44[] He’s four, and he just came to visit last week with his mother. Have you and Jack ever done science experiments at home?

[]7/28, 20:46[] Because I have some that are definite crowd pleasers. Do them right, you can call them ‘physics magic’. I can send you the instructions, it’s well worth it.

[]7/28, 20:47[] I’m not sure how helpful I would be in a scientific area, but I’m always willing to try.

[]7/28, 20:49[] I’d require video evidence of it, then.

[]7/28, 20:50[] But they are so fun, I’d forgotten how much.

[]7/28, 20:51[] No children of your own?

[]7/28, 20:54[] Never found the right person, but I always spent so much time on my degrees that I hadn’t really thought about being a parent.

[]7/28, 20:55[] My Godson really brought it to light, though. I love having him here.

[]7/28, 20:56[] I bet he loves when you come around, or when they get to visit you, too.

[]7/28, 20:59[] I work in a science lab, with lasers and telescopes bigger than my first apartment. My approval rating is pretty high when it comes to my godson.

Although Hotch finds that he doesn’t always start these interactions, the ones that lead to topics outside of work, he also isn’t against them in the slightest. They begin to start messaging at all hours, because of this; first thing in the morning, during their lunch break, whenever something pops up -- what used to be jokes that would just be kept to themselves, turn to conversation starters. And that development shifts the dynamic even more.

[]8/11, 10:31[] Coffee shops always make me feel old, and like I’m a grad student all over again.

[]8/11, 10:38[] You don’t have a T.A. to run and get you coffee?

[]8/11, 10:41[] Of course you would send out for coffee.

[]8/11, 10:42[] Well my order is two steps, not sixteen.

[]8/11, 10:43[] Tyrant.

[]8/11, 10:43[] Pretentious.

They start to tease, banter, and poke fun at each other. Comradery, friendship, and the more it goes on the more it seems to spiral towards something else. Something new.

But it’s these small moments, messages, conversations that can last a minute or an hour, that make Hotch’s chest feel so much lighter as the weeks go by. Hints of a smile easing onto his face, smoothing out and softening the edges in a way they haven’t in a long time. Garnering some attention from the rest of the team, or whoever is in the vicinity that felt brave enough to mention it.

“Who are you talking to?”

“Who’s the lucky lady?”

“No one,” Hotch would answer, schooling himself and pocketing his phone. “Just a consultant on a case.”

This is how it goes… for months.

They never speak on the phone. Never even hint at video calls. Never send pictures. (Although Spencer does make a mention once or twice about that promised video when Hotch finally gets around to attempting the ‘physics magic’ experiment he’d emailed him. Hotch secretly hopes that maybe, one day, Spencer will just get to show them in person. Instead of Hotch having to record it for anyone to witness.)

But they talk like clockwork. Play chess on the regular, allowing them to talk more fluently with a laptop to aid the flow of conversation. It starts with once a week, then twice a week, standing dates after hours that meld so seamlessly with their messages every workday. They keep it to the weekdays, at first, since Hotch is busy with Jack on the weekends. But that doesn’t last long. Suddenly, without warning -- it becomes every night as well. That shift is such an organic, natural progression, that it slips in without either of them making comment on it. A silent agreement, because mentioning it would mean admitting why they were pushing this in such a new direction.

They just… missed talking to each other. Two days was too long.

Now, it’s every day.

They text for hours; check in on each other at random throughout the day even when Hotch is on cases or Spencer is busy with his duties as the leading doctoral expert of Caltech. Times when they should be swamped, unavailable to anything other than their primary focus and work load, still littered with short messages. Before and after each flight, when Hotch gets back to his hotel at night, when Spencer has to lecture out of town and they just so happen to be passing each other during travel -- mere states away. So close, yet so far. It’s all the time, it’s constant, and it’s wonderful.

Spencer still helps with cases. Often, even more often than he ever helped the L.A. field office. But it’s not always through email, anymore. Sometimes it’s just easier for Hotch to shoot him a quick text. A detailed message in the middle of their everyday banter and dribble but no less out of place, knowing the good Doctor will answer him quickly. Time is of the essence when they are on a case, but they are always on retainer for each other. Waiting in the wings, ready to jump in with quick, snappy wit and bitten-back smiles, and Hotch feels so good. So light. Better than he has in years.

Happy.

Hotch is happy, finding a friend in Dr. Spencer Reid, even if sometimes that friendship seems to transcend layers he didn’t know were there. Developing into something else, something he hadn’t touched in a long, long time.

Months pass. Months. Like a blur. Like they’ve only just started this thing that’s anticipatory and comfortable and flexible in its medium and that is so easy -- everything Hotch needs in his life -- that he can barely imagine what his days and nights were like before this. Before Spencer.

But it’s months into this correspondence, this charged and bright thing, that he’s home late one night with a Scotch in one hand and a losing game of online chess long forgotten on his laptop screen. Lost in messaging Spencer, back to his phone instead of the chat feature of the chess game. Because texting is their comfort zone, now. He never thought it would be, had seen teenagers and adults attached to their phones like a lifeline and used to scoff about it, but he finally has begun to understand.

Because here he is -- not even looking up when he takes a drink -- lost in his conversation with Spencer. Making each other laugh, in a way he hasn’t in so long. Loud and high and afraid he might wake Jack down the hall so he stifles it with another sip of his Scotch.

[]9/8, 21:12[] If Jack wakes up, you know that’s it for us. He’ll never go back to sleep.

[]9/8, 21:13[] Then stop laughing so loud. I honestly can’t imagine you laughing enough to wake him.

[]9/8, 21:14[] Usually I don’t. I never laugh like this, but I used to.

[]9/8, 21:16[] Mr. FBI isn’t allowed to laugh, I thought. Didn’t they beat that out of you at the academy?

[]9/8, 21:19[] I was able to retain a smidgen of humor, it’s well hidden. You just seem to bring it out more than others.

[]9/8, 21:20[] I’m flattered.

[]9/8, 21:20[] You should be.

[]9/8, 21:21[] If my team saw me crack a smile I’d probably be forced to get a CAT scan.

[]9/8, 21:23[] Do you need one? I have an M.A. in Cognitive Sciences, I’ll be your second opinion.

[]9/8, 21:24[] Probably, but I’ll live.

[]9/8, 21:25[] Very stiff upper lip of you. They teach you that at the academy, too?

[]9/8, 21:26[] No, that would be Scotland Yard. I liaised there for a while.

[]9/8, 21:28[] Wow, you get around. Have you been anywhere else on your global exploration?

[]9/8, 21:31[] Hardly that, I just go where the bureau tells me. I’ve already been bounced all over the country before landing at the BAU. All you can do is keep the ‘stiff upper lip’ and adapt.

[]9/8, 21:31[] “Keep Calm & Carry On”?

[]9/8, 21:33[] Garcia gave me that on a mug last Christmas. I still don’t know what it’s from.

[]9/8, 21:34[] Your age is showing. Get with the times, old man.

[]9/8, 21:35[] You’re one to talk.

[]9/8, 21:35[] What?

Hotch bites back a smile, thinking about how for months he had been so sure Spencer was this elderly professor in his 60’s or 70’s that just happened to find their conversations interesting. That was… very apparently wrong, Hotch can see that now, but he hadn’t had any evidence to the contrary for the entire time they corresponded those first few months.

He could have done a background check on the professor at any time, is sure Garcia already has one saved in a file ready to send him at his first request, but it’s more fun this way. The not knowing, the learning about each other piece by careful piece. Even the smallest bits of information, such as age.

He bet Spencer would get a kick out of his first impression of the man, though.

[]9/8, 21:37[] Oh come on, you know.

[]9/8, 21:39[] No, I actually don’t. Congratulations, you’ve stumped the super genius.

[]9/8, 21:39[] But really, what do you mean?

[]9/8, 21:42[] I always just assumed you are at least ten years my senior, maybe even fifteen. How are you more with the times than I am?

[]9/8, 21:43[] I work at a University. I am surrounded by hormones and the dribble of youth.

There’s a slightly lengthy pause after that exchange, enough Hotch starts to pay closer attention through the buzz of liquor settled over his skin pleasantly.

[]9/8, 21:49[] How old do you think I am?

[]9/8, 21:50[] I don’t know, is it rude if I answer?

Hotch is not laughing to himself, he promises.

[]9/8, 21:52[] Why do you think I’m older?

[]9/8, 21:53[] This feels like a trap.

[]9/8, 21:53[] It’s not.

[]9/8, 21:56[] Well, honestly just from your academic achievements. Not everyone has that kind of time. And all your departments you run, you have to have a pretty level head and knack for maturity to keep that all in order. Especially doctorate students.

[]9/8, 21:58[] Thank you, I think.

[]9/8, 22:00[] I bet you’re the coolest old man on campus, though, don’t get me wrong.

Hotch does outright laugh after he sends that, manages to keep it a little bit quieter, and commends himself on having the upperhand in the conversation for once as he stares at his phone for a few minutes, awaiting an answer.

If he had to guess, Hotch supposes he’s held on to that stubborn image of Spencer being a stooped old professor out of habit. But the more the two have talked, after he'd gotten to know the man and his written verbal expressions and just the way his life runs day to day, it’s pretty easy to see that that is not correct. Spencer could be someone around Dave or Jason’s age, but more likely even younger than that -- closer to his own.

And that… is an intriguing thought that sparks something in his chest. He smothers it with another sip of Scotch and realizes that it has been a solid five minutes of silence. With Spencer not even typing out a response.

[]9/8, 22:06[] Was it something I said?

[]9/8, 22:07[] No, I’m just… contemplating my answer.

[]9/8, 22:07[] Answer to what?

Hotch hasn’t drank that much, but he doesn’t believe he asked a question at all. He scrolls back through their conversation and doesn’t see one. Spencer has asked a good handful, though, all about Hotch’s perception of his age.

Interesting.

[]9/8, 22:09[] Respond, not answer.

[]9/8, 22:10[] I’m all turned around now.

[]9/8, 22:12[] Flustered in your old age? Now I’m flattered.

This is almost like flirting. Skirts the edges of it, and Hotch feels more emboldened to try the more Spencer tap-dances around what is obviously Hotch’s incorrect assumption of his age. He had had no idea Hotch thought he was older, that is apparent, and it’s throwing the other man for a loop for some reason Hotch can’t ascertain.

[]9/8, 22:15[] I’m not old.

[]9/8, 22:15[] I’m not even older than you.

[]9/8, 22:16[] And how do you know that?

[]9/8, 22:17[] Just trust me on this.

[]9/8, 22:17[] Well, how old are you?

Another long, lengthy pause that Hotch waits for with baited breath. He knows that Spencer is there, that he’s staring at his phone and trying to decide the best way to answer without really answering anything. It’s only a matter of minutes, but that is a long time for them. When they are deep in a conversation like this.

Hotch isn’t laughing to himself anymore, but he’s more pleasantly confused than worried. He really has no idea what is making Spencer so hesitant.

[]9/8, 22:22[] Spencer?

[]9/8, 22:25[] I’m not going to tell you.

[]9/8, 22:26[] What, you want me to guess?

[]9/8, 22:28[] You’ll never guess.

[]9/8, 22:29[] That sounds like a challenge. How many guesses do I have?

[]9/8, 22:31[] None. Listen, I don’t want you to know. I shouldn’t have said anything.

[]9/8, 22:33[] I’m afraid it’s going to change your perception of me, and we’ll stop talking like this.

[]9/8, 22:34[] Just keep imagining me with wrinkles and a cane, I’m okay with that.

That drops the small smile right off his face.

Hotch is… surprised by this turn of events. What could be so shocking about this that Spencer thinks they would stop talking to each other? They’re corresponding every night. How could he possibly stop on a dime like that?

It doesn’t make any sense. And that’s not the alcohol talking.

[]9/8, 22:37[] I honestly don’t see how that would be possible.

[]9/8, 22:39[] I’m not going to stop talking to you just because you aren’t the senior professor I imagined running Caltech with an Iron Fist.

[]9/8, 22:40[] Now you’re projecting.

[]9/8, 22:40[] You saying I’m too strict?

[]9/8, 22:41[] Tyrant, I think was the term I chose.

[]9/8, 22:42[] Pretentious.

[]9/8, 22:44[] But Spencer, unless you are somehow underage with five Ph.D.’s, there’s no reason for us to stop talking.

[]9/8, 22:47[] You would not believe how many people treat me like I'm underage, to this day. So that doesn’t inspire confidence.

Hotch pauses with his glass halfway back to his lips, only a few sips left in the glass. Staring at his phone and struggling to make sense of what Spencer is saying. Hotch had been trying to joke and tease with him, but now the word ‘underage’ feels like a glaring beacon of a word on his screen.

He’s very suddenly more than a little nervous, even through the haze of alcohol. He is 45 years old, no matter what he keeps telling Spencer -- there is a limit to this being appropriate or not. What that limit is, he’d have to consider when he’s more sober, and it makes him feel like he should be reigning in the flirtatious notes that keep worming their way into the conversation.

But it’s not actually possible for him to be that young, and everything he’s learned about the man indicates he’s closer to his own age. Was he in his 30’s? Even that felt too young for what Hotch had (subconsciously) profiled -- no, it has to be something else.

No matter what, he didn’t want to keep getting Spencer worked up like this about it. His age hadn’t bothered Hotch before that night, so maybe if he drops it they can revert back to how they’d been spending their late evening hours before this turn in the conversation.

[]9/8, 22:50[] But I’m NOT underage.

[]9/8, 22:51[] If that needed to be said.

[]9/8, 22:53[] Can you buy alcohol by yourself?

[]9/8, 22:54[] Yes.

[]9/8, 22:54[] See this is what I was afraid of.

[]9/8, 22:55[] Relax, I was trying to tease you.

[]9/8, 22:57[] You don’t have to tell me, Spencer. I’ll just keep picturing Sean Connery, or John Steinbeck in the later years.

[]9/8, 22:59[] I see you have a type.

[]9/8, 23:00[] Well, who do you picture when you think of me?

[]9/8, 23:01[] Hugo Weaving, Matrix era. Or Richard Feynman.

[]9/8, 23:02[] Well now I feel typecasted. Who’s Feynman?

[]9/8, 23:02[] An American Theoretical Physicist from the 40’s-60’s.

[]9/8, 23:03[] Ouch. How old do you think *I* am?

[]9/8, 23:04[] I’m afraid to answer that.

[]9/8, 23:04[] O.u.c.h.

[]9/8, 23:06[] You’ve been borderline flirting with me, and you just said you thought I was in my 60’s! What was I supposed to think?

[]9/8, 23:07[] If you’re looking in that age bracket, I’m sure I can get you the Biology Department Head’s number.

[]9/8, 23:07[] He’s 72 with rheumatoid arthritis.

[]9/8, 23:08[] You are hysterical. So funny.

Hotch is smiling wide down at his phone again, feeling lighter and glad he got them back on track.

But…

He can’t help but think back to what he just tried to drop entirely. Blame the Scotch, or whatever drive to know that makes him dig down and root out information in cold cases in his spare time, Hotch doesn’t think he can let it go. Not when it was something Spencer hadn’t meant to be a secret in the first place. Not when, knowing that it has created misinformation between them unintentionally, results in Spencer shying away and hesitant to tell Hotch anything more about himself.

Not when he’d said ‘flirting’, because that had been what Hotch was doing, and he can’t even describe how disappointing it would be to quit while he was ahead. When the build up has been so gradual and easy and everything he’d been looking for and could never seem to find.

Now, this slight disruption is sticking in his mind, sharp like a thorn in his side. Always there, making itself known, and he wonders if he is lucid enough to try and draw the information out of Spencer via interview tactics -- or if the brilliant man would see right through any of his attempts.

Probably. Who was he kidding? Spencer had more degrees and college hours under his belt than Hotch could manage in a lifetime. Best to do this the old fashioned way, then.

[]9/8, 23:10[] 38.

[]9/8, 23:11[] Oh. Really? That’s kind of young to be Unit Chief, congratulations.

[]9/8, 23:11[] No, not me. You. I’m guessing 38.

[]9/8, 23:12[] Oh.

[]9/8, 23:12[] Incorrect.

[]9/8, 23:13[] I don’t even get a hint?

[]9/8, 23:13[] Nope.

[]9/8, 23:15[] We’re not playing a game. I’m not telling you.

[]9/8, 23:15[] So you won’t guess my age, either?

[]9/18, 23:17[] Chicken.

[]9/8, 23:17[] 45.

Hotch near throws his phone across the room. Almost makes a quip about how reading his file is cheating -- but he knows Spencer just made a stupidly accurate ‘educated guess’ because he knows fucking everything.

They really should just put him on the payroll. Hotch is being selfish keeping the man all to himself.

But God, is he enjoying it, too.

[]9/8, 23:19[] There’s no way you profiled that with that kind of accuracy.

[]9/8, 23:20[] How do you do that?

[]9/8, 23:21[] Black magic.

[]9/8, 23:22[] I’ll get it out of you one day, I swear.

[]9/8, 23:23[] And as a man of your word, I believe that you truly believe that.

[]9/8, 23:23[] Full of jokes tonight, aren’t you?

[]9/8, 23:25[] I live to amuse.

[]9/8, 23:25[] And make you smile.

[]9/8, 23:27[] You are one of the few that do.

With a careful pause, nothing left in his glass, a thought perched on the edges of his mind that is already watery with cognitive dissonance, Hotch starts typing before he’s even fully made the decision.

[]9/8, 23:30[] You really think my flirting is borderline? I was going for subtlety, but I must be rusty.

[]9/8, 23:32[] Actually, I just thought I was projecting.

[]9/8, 23:23[] You were married, I didn’t want to presume.

Oh.

The consideration is touching, and sobering even in the dimness of his home office, but it draws the softest of smiles back to Hotch’s face when he begins to type out his answer.

[]9/8, 23:35[] Thank you, for thinking of me first.

[]9/8, 23:37[] But Haley and I separated a long time before she died. We were actually divorced before she went into WICSEC. I miss her every day. But I did try to date for a while, before that.

[]9/8, 23:39[] No luck? I would have thought the FBI badge would at least garner some interest.

[]9/8, 23:40[] I’ve been told I’m intimidating.

[]9/8, 23:41[] I don’t think you are.

[]9/8, 23:42[] You will if you ever meet me. I’ve made underlings cry before without speaking a word.

[]9/8, 23:44[] The Hotchner stare. Have you coined that?

[]9/8, 23:45[] I should. It’s got a ring to it.

They banter and causally slip a few more… flirtatious comments in, and Hotch realizes it really isn’t that much different than before. That he had indeed been flirting with the man long before he knew his age. Which was odd, he didn’t typically go for older men and women. But now that he’s aware Spencer is younger than he thought, possibly even his own age (he swears he is, would put money on it if he could), somehow there’s more of a charge in their correspondence, a warmth and buzzing elation that has nothing to do with his Scotch. Especially now that it’s long gone.

It’s all Spencer, and how they compliment each other, and Hotch finds himself near giddy with that information.

He tries, towards the end of the night where it tips over into the early hours of the morning, to imagine an image of Spencer again -- and finds that he doesn’t even care to. He’s enamored with the man and his wit and the way he makes Hotch laugh without trying. How he looks, his age, it doesn’t matter. Not really. Not to Hotch.

But he is still curious why Spencer won’t reveal it. He can’t be that young.

[]9/9, 00:43[] You really won’t tell me?

[]9/9, 00:45[] Maybe one day. When I’m feeling brave.

[]9/9, 00:46[] Well, I’ll be there. Waiting.

[]9/9, 00:46[] 32.

[]9/9, 00:47[] You’ll never guess.

[]9/9, 00:48[] There’s only so many numbers.

[]9/9, 00:50[] Goodnight, Hotch.

[9/9, 00:51] Goodnight, Spencer.

(tbc...)

Tagged List: @spencehotchner @ssa-sarahsunshine @gothamapologist @reidology @marsjareau @dragon-snaps-fandom @emmyraebird @just-an-emo-rat @aaron-hotchner187 @dk18077 @more-heid-pls @fakin-it-til-i-make-it @merpancake

#I've read and rewritten this chapter so many times I'm starting to hate it #but it's super important so I hope it lives up to expectations #we get to all the good stuff after this #but the development here is something I've spent WEEKS trying to make realistic so #I hope you all enjoy it <3 #Chapter updates are Saturdays at 5pm EST #if you want in on the tag list just message me <3 #HotchReid #Heid #katyswriting

54 notes · View notes

cozy-the-overlord · 2 years

Text

I posted 3,646 times in 2021

1338 posts created (37%)

2308 posts reblogged (63%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 1.7 posts.

I added 4,832 tags in 2021

#cozy reblog - 1891 posts

#thanks for the ask :) - 791 posts

#friends - 414 posts

#ask me things pls i'm bored - 351 posts

#writing things - 283 posts

#loki marvel - 263 posts

#anonymous - 253 posts

#taylor swift - 217 posts

#loki fanfic - 192 posts

#cozy writes - 177 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#and people who go on about how it’s anti-feminist because it references loss of virginity as a big deal are just absolutely missing the poin

My Top Posts in 2021

I must stop thinking about Real Things

124 notes • Posted 2021-09-08 01:52:51 GMT

Cozy’s Masterlist

Here are all the stories I’ve posted to Tumblr as of 10/31/21.

Thanks so much for reading! :)

130 notes • Posted 2021-02-16 21:28:35 GMT

Kiss the Girl

Summary: A night of roller-coastering has left you without a voice, Little Mermaid-style. If only you had a dark haired prince of your own to kiss it better ...

Word Count: 1,181

Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: I know what you're thinking. What is Cozy doing writing self indulgent plotless fluff from a second person perspective in the present tense when she had repeatedly stated that she hates writing all of those things? Because peer pressure, that's why. This is all Discord's fault. Also I may or may not have lost my voice screaming on roller coasters two days ago and have been fantasizing about a certain dark-haired prince swooping in to kiss it better but that's besides the point.

Anyways. I usually don't write stuff like this, so please don't judge me too harshly. Thanks for reading!

Warnings: None

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @the-emo-asgardian @imnotrevealingmyname @electroma89 @lokislittlesigyn @moumouton4

190 notes • Posted 2021-08-01 19:03:10 GMT

Watching the Cruella trailer this was all I was thinking of:

Gif credit (x)

330 notes • Posted 2021-02-17 17:33:52 GMT

I swear this will be the last thing I post about the Cruella trailer, but I was just thinking about this obsession with giving every villain a sympathetic backstory. I love tragic backstories-- they're one of my favorite tropes-- but there are some characters that are better left just being evil. I feel like Disney just looked at Cruella de Vil and how popular of a villain she is and was like "popularity=>movie=>money" without understanding that the reason that she's a popular villain is because she's so despicable. Her motivation is to murder and skin a bunch of puppies to make a coat. She has absolutely no redeemable qualities. The fun comes from how much you love to hate her. This isn't the character you turn into a sympathetic anti-hero, because there is absolutely nothing you can do to make her sympathetic.

395 notes • Posted 2021-02-17 18:10:34 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #of course the fucking cruella posts are one and two #they will be my legacy and i hate that that's accurate #also of course the only story to make it on here is the one i hate more than anything else lol #numbers 1-3 are just a massive eye roll #and number 5 was just me having a mental breakdown that got turned into a loki post but that's alright #i get a kick out of that one #i'm really happy my masterlist is up there though!#i didn't realize that got as much traffic

2 notes · View notes

maxineswritingcenter · 2 years

Text

I posted 254 times in 2021

79 posts created (31%)

175 posts reblogged (69%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 2.2 posts.

I added 205 tags in 2021

#derek hale x reader - 35 posts

#teen wolf fic - 31 posts

#teen wolf x reader - 28 posts

#derek hale fic - 24 posts

#maxineswritingcenter - 19 posts

#supernatural fic - 17 posts

#dean winchester x reader - 15 posts

#dean winchester - 13 posts

#supernatural fanfiction - 12 posts

#dean x reader - 11 posts

Longest Tag: 117 characters

#and i feel like if the writers had balls they would have called john out when he got brought back for abandoning adam

My Top Posts in 2021

Maybe in Another Life - Dean x fem!reader

In this universe, Chuck had won, Dean, Sam, and (Y/N) were the only ones left. They must find another reality to live so they can find a way to bring back their own. But After getting separate, (Y/N) must find her Dean with working with this universe’s hunters.

------------

47 notes • Posted 2021-08-31 16:42:24 GMT

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 2

So the first part did decently well, so I figure I could add a second part.

---------

48 notes • Posted 2021-05-21 02:33:06 GMT

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader

So, back in the day I wrote this story on Quotev. And it was one of my first stories that got into the popular section and I am really proud of it. The only problem is.... It was written in 2013, uber cringe-ville. If you wanna try to find it, be my guest but be warned: the main character is an OC, she has “I’m NoT lIkE oThEr GiRlS” syndrome and there are some weird ass love lines added in. So, I am reviving and rebranding that story so it may live a better life, like witness protection. Anyway, hope you enjoy

* I wrote it in first person just because I thought it would be easier to read

(Y/N)’s family is killed in a fire that seems to plague Beacon Hills, moving in with the Stilinski’s was bound to cause hijinks, but what happens when she gets involved with the the illusive Derek Hale?

TW: Kidnapping, some violence

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

70 notes • Posted 2021-05-18 04:29:42 GMT

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader Masterlist

172 notes • Posted 2021-05-30 21:39:47 GMT

Short Stack - Stiles Stilinski x fem!reader

nyotamalfoy : So, I was thinking, could you write a Stiles Stilinski x reader? Like the reader is short and the pack just loves to make fun of her (all in good sense) and could it include Derek too?

-----------

218 notes • Posted 2021-08-22 23:09:28 GMT

Thank you all so much for making my year! This blog wouldn't be anywhere without your support. I have a lot of things planned for this month and next year. I can't wait for you to be a part of it!

A special thank you to my general taglist for sticking around, even through my self-indulgence fics 😳

@happy-little-winchester

@hobby27

@tranzfred

@vicmc624

@ria132love

@lilulo-12

@lewispool

@tloveswriting

@mikrokosmicjoon

@calaofnoldor

@supernatural3002

@cevans-winchester

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

1 note · View note

blueboxesandtrafficcones · 3 years

Text

An Accidental Discovery

Day 15 of 2020′s 31 Days of Ficmas. Thanks to @doctorroseprompts for the list!

Prompt: Ring

Rating: General, with a minor sexual(ish) situation implied at the end

Pairing: TenTooxRose; a mini-sequel to Barcelona is for Lovers (in my mind), but not explicitly so. Can easily be read independently of that fic.

Summary: While putting laundry away, Rose makes a discovering in TenToo’s sock drawer that sends her into a tailspin.

2019 31 Days of Ficmas masterlist

AO3

---

If Rose had to pick one single thing she missed most about the TARDIS (besides the travel), it would probably be the laundry facilities. Specifically, the fact that clothes dropped in a hamper at night would, typically, be back in her closet clean and pressed by the time she woke up the next morning. The only exceptions would be the week or so before they had a visit planned to visit her Mum, as Jackie always made a big fuss over doing it for her, and Rose indulged her. On the occasions when items were truly filthy, if she’d fallen headfirst into a mud pit or was sprayed by exploding alien (neither of which had happened with any frequency, but more than once was excessive by her definition) she would feel guilty letting the timeship deal with it, preferring to take it directly to the laundry room that would magically appear as an offshoot of her room.

(In the beginning, she’d just accepted the ship’s abilities, and after Bad Wolf, refused to give any thought as to why the TARDIS would be so much more accommodating to her than to the Doctor’s previous companions.)

She’d had to adjust to normal laundry facilities upon getting stuck here in Pete’s World, as they still called it, and had willingly accepted that the price she’d pay for a domestic life with the Doctor, or as domestic as either could stand, was doing all of the household’s laundry. Why that was his Rubicon she didn’t know, but if that was what it took, so be it. Besides, better to keep him away from the appliances, as his “improvements” tended to make things unusable, at least for their intended purpose.

Didn’t make her tolerate it any better.

Humming along to the radio, she emptied the basket of clothes on the bed, folding socks and underthings, grooving to the music. An armful’s worth of socks were the Doctor’s, all in funny or eyewatering patterns, and when she pulled open the drawer groaned at the chaos that greeted her. Dumping her load on top of the dresser while she organized what was already in there, she sang along to the new song, a jaunty tale by an artist who’d come to fame after she’d started travelling.

“I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper- what the fuck?” Hand closing around a pair of dark dress socks she’d never seen him wear, she was startled to find them firmer than expected, as if something were hidden inside. “This better not be that mobile he lost…” Pulling the pair out, she unfolded them- and gasped, as a small box dropped onto the socks piled below.

Her heart knew what it was even as her brain scrambled to catch up, and it was a trembling hand that reached for it. Picking it up, she held it close to her heart, trying to breath and think, damn it. They’d never talked about marriage, other than a few vague jokes, but she didn’t expect that of him, wouldn’t ask for more than what he was capable of. She knew who he was, and what he was, TARDIS-less or not. It could be earrings, she tried to convince herself. Christmas is next week, don’t get ahead of yourself. Maybe a necklace?

Could just open it and see, she considered. Or ask him about it. Or just wait until Christmas.

Taking a deep breath, certain she couldn’t live not knowing, she cracked the box open – and immediately shut it without seeing, re-folding it into the socks before she could change her mind again. Everything went into the drawer haphazardly, reorganization abandoned with the urge to run, to leave, but not wanting to do so with clothes everywhere; no need to worry the Doctor should he come home and find the laundry half-abandoned and her nowhere to be found.

Because she suddenly had somewhere to be, urgently.

Rose burst into the kitchen with more momentum than intended, throwing the door open and startling her mother enough to make her yelp, tea sloshing over the edge of the fancy teacup she held as she chatted on the phone.

“Rose!”

She just stared, eyes wide, and Jackie’s motherly intuition must have dinged, as she muttered into the mobile, “I’ll call you back,” and hung up. “What’s wrong?”

In a daze Rose came towards where she was seated at the island, pulling herself up onto a stool next to her and leaning over to rest her head on her mother’s shoulder; it wasn’t exactly comfortable, but the warm arm Jackie wrapped around her was exactly what she needed.

“Sweetheart, you’re scaring me,” Jackie murmured after a minute’s silence. “This isn’t like you- not anymore. Did something happen?”

“I…” After running on autopilot for a good forty-five minutes now, Rose’s brain was finally coming back online, and she was starting to question the wisdom of running to her mother. It had been instinct, but in hindsight, she knew how Jackie felt about the Doctor, and wasn’t sure she would be happy about this potential development. “I…”

Jackie nudged her upright, waiting until she was straight to stand and fetch another teacup. “Take your time.”

Rose waited, watching as she poured her a cup, fixing it up just to Rose’s taste, if a little sweet, wrestling with herself, deciding that she wouldn’t tell her, or risk betraying the Doctor’s confidence, such as it was, until Jackie sat back down and she blurted, “I found a ring.”

“What, on the ground?”

“Mum!” She rolled her eyes, groaning. “No, in the Doctor’s sock drawer!”

Jackie was quiet for a moment. “Least it wasn’t wrapped in a pair of his pants,” she shrugged. “Was it in a box, or loose?”

Rose stared blankly at her. “You’re awfully casual. I tell you the Doctor, my nine-hundred something alien boyfriend, seems to have a ring, and you’re talking about his pants?”

“And you seem awfully bothered,” she countered, sipping at her tea. “Rose, he literally moved universes for you- and don’t start on that the other Doctor wouldn’t have let him stay malarky; he’s here for you. To be with you. Why wouldn’t he want to make it official?”

“Because! Because he scoffs at marriage, and domestics, and commitment. Some days, he can’t commit to a pair of bloody socks!”

Jackie snickered, quickly restraining herself at Rose’s glare. “Sweetheart, he loves you. He wants to spend the rest of his life with you – I heard it as well as you did, on that beach. Don’t let his fashion choices be the judge of what he wants with you. He chose you. And you him.”

Her heart stopped. “Oh, God, you don’t think he’s planning on proposing because I- I-”

“Sort of rejected him for the other Doctor?” Jackie asked helpfully. “No, love. He’s just thinking about the future- his future- and spending it with you. I think you both could use a bit of solid evidence that you’re both in it for the long haul, because you want to be. That neither of you- and more specifically, the other- isn’t settling.”

Rose stared down into her cuppa, thoughts swirling, before one floated to the top. “Hang on, did you know about this?” It was the only possibility that made sense; her casual attitude, her confidence in the Doctor’s meaning behind it.

She had to giver her mother credit; she was a good liar. But the calm and even “No” gave her away. Quite literally in no universe would Jackie be so accepting the first time she heard about this. Not possible.

“You did!” Rose gasped. “And you didn’t tell me? How do you know?”

Jackie grimaced. “I shouldn’t say. He asked my permission?”

“He did?” Rose tried to picture it in her mind: the Doctor’s nerves as he asked, her mother’s likely over-the-top reaction. “When?” She tried to remember his schedule the last few weeks, but he’d been with her most of the time he wasn’t in his lab at Torchwood, and they hadn’t seen her parents except for the night they dropped Tony off for Rose and the Doctor to babysit while they attended an event. “Why?”

“You’ll have to ask him.”

“Oh, come on!”

Despite her best whining and pleading, she couldn’t get any more information out of her mother, eventually slinking home with more questions than answers.

When she walked into the house they shared, it was to find the Doctor in the kitchen, minding something on the stove as he sang along to Elvis, using a whisk as a microphone, complete with pelvic thrusts. Leaning against the doorframe, she just watched him goof around, her anxiety melting as love and happiness filled her. She loved this man with everything she was, had moved heaven and earth (and time and space) to find him. The future was bright with him at her side, whether they were traveling the universe or reporting to Torchwood every day.

The shock had mostly faded on the drive home, and as she examined her reaction, she was ashamed and annoyed to realize it stemmed, ultimately, from self-doubt. That the same voice that had once warned her she’d never do better than Jimmy or Mickey, that had made her turn the Doctor down the first time he asked her to travel with him, was whispering in her ear that she wasn’t enough, couldn’t keep him happy, that he’d eventually grow tired of her.

That’s not true, she thought fiercely. He chooses me, every day. And he did; every day that he came home to their little cottage with her, babbling happily about his day. Every night when he proved his love to her, first with words, then their bodies. Every time he’d come back from the shops with something not on the list, casually noting We were running low, figured I might as well buy it now rather than two days from now.

He’d come a long way from the bitter Northerner who complained every time they had to stop on Earth for milk, who in their early days traveling together refused to purchase more than a gallon at a time, remarking that odds were she wouldn’t still be with him long enough to use it, despite having the same argument week after week.

And even then he’d loved her, she knew now, could see it with the benefit of hindsight. All the little ways his hearts bled through jumpers and leather jackets. I’m so glad I met you. Or I could save the world but lose you.

“Oi, Earth to Rose.” Fingers snapping in her face pulled her out of her daze, and she blinked, looking into the Doctor’s brown eyes, warm and wide with concern. “All right, love? Something wrong?”

She smiled widely, tears pricking at her eyes. “I love you.” Fisting his tie she pulled him down to her, kissing him like it was their last kiss – but it wasn’t, it was the first, the first of their marriage, even if he hadn’t asked and she hadn’t answered. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he mumbled against her mouth. His tone was confused, but he seemed content in his bewilderment, not questioning it further as their lips met again and again, reveling in the luxury of being together.

Rose thought about telling him, about confessing to her inadvertent snooping, or at least saying something to reassure him that her answer would yes, a thousand times yes, but her heart was too full, and the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, she asked if whatever was on the stove would keep – and when he said it would, turned off the burner and led him by the hand to their bedroom, pushing him onto the bed and enjoying his delighted befuddlement.

“How long are you going to stay with me?” she asked, settling astride his waist.

It took him a moment to recognize the question, his expression softening to daft love. “Forever,” he vowed, just as she had done so many years before.

“Good.”

And it was.

#bbatcfic #doctorroseprompts #31 Days of Ficmas #31 Days of Ficmas 2020 #ficandchips #Doctor Who #TenTooxRose #TenToo #Rose Tyler #semi-sequel to #Barcelona is for Lovers #Rated: General #An Accidental Discovery

17 notes · View notes

kpopfanfictrash · 5 years

Text

Unwind (M)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / (female) Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: twisted panties, oil, light butt play, fingering, oral (male), spanking, dirty talk, slight degradation, thigh-fucking (?), throat-fucking, non-explained birth control (established relationship)

Genre: Boyfriend!AU

Synopsis: After a terribly crappy birthday, your boyfriend (a highly sought-after massage therapist) decides to turn the night around.

A/N: Basically 5+K of pwp. This is horribly self-indulgent LOL sorry!

Word Count: 5,476

“Jimin,” you laugh, shaking your head. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Have to?” He arches a brow. “I want to.”

“You work all day,” you protest. “The last thing you should have to do when you get home is give another massage.”

“Again,” Jimin says, grin widening. “Who said anything about have to? I want to make you feel good, babe.”

Hiding a smile, you uncross your arms from your chest. Your purse dangles from your wrist, heavy with the weight of both laptop and coffee. Today was what could only be described as a royal clusterfuck. The morning train was late, you stepped in a puddle while crossing the street, missed a large deadline and forgot your lunch at home. Oh, and it was your birthday.

When you texted Jimin all this around 2:30 PM from one of the stalls in the bathroom, he was instantly apologetic.

Jimin: I’m so sorry baby ☹ I saw your lunchbox in the fridge when I left – I should’ve texted you! [2:31 PM]

You laughed a little at this, leaning your head to the stall.

Y/N: In what universe could that ever have been your fault, babe? [2:31 PM]

Jimin: In your birthday universe! Nothing is ever your fault on your birthday [2:31 PM]

Y/N: ha. Tell that to my boss [2:31 PM]

Jimin: ☹ [2:31 PM]

Jimin: Just hang in there, ok? I have a surprise for you when you get home [2:31 PM]

Y/N: no, no, no. You don’t have to do that! I’m just venting [2:32 PM]

Jimin: gotta go, my next appointment is here. Just remember I love you, okay? See you soon, birthday girl [2:32 PM]

He did not respond after that, which was not surprising given his schedule. Jimin was many things, but in a professional capacity he was the most sought-after physical therapist masseuse in the city, specializing in sports medicine. Each day, his office was booked solid with appointments. Everyone on Yelp claimed he was doing God’s work and Jimin loved his job, but the popularity meant he worked long, often odd hours.

Which is why you drew the line at him practicing outside of work. Even on you – even for fun.

“No,” you insist, shaking your head. “Jimin, you massage people all day. I’d feel guilty if I made you do that when you got home.”

Lower lip protruding, Jimin begins to walk closer. He has already set up his massage table in the middle of the apartment, blinds drawn over the windows and lights dimmed like his workspace. Soothing music plays from the corner and he has even gone so far as to diffuse essential oils – orange and lemon waft under your nose. Orange, to decrease anxiety and lemon, to improve mood. Despite yourself, you smile. Jimin is always so thoughtful.

Coming to a stop before you, he stares. Jimin is dressed in a clean, white button-down and slacks – work clothes. “Are you really not going to let me help you relax?” he teases. “And on your birthday?”

Exhaling slow, you glance at the table. Despite all better judgement, you feel a slight pang of longing. It has been such a horrible day and you know Jimin is good at what he does. Due to your purse, your back is aching; your feet are sore from walking around all day – all you really want is for your boyfriend to massage the shit out of you.

“It’s only,” you say, gaze returning to his. “I feel bad.”

Jimin arches a brow. “Why?”

“Because.” You wave a hand at the table. “It’d be like if for your birthday, you asked me to do taxes.”

“But you do our taxes every year. And that’s not even on my birthday.”

“You get what I mean,” you respond, trying hard not to laugh. “I love spreadsheets and data, but that’s not what I want to do when I get home.”

“Okay, first off,” Jimin interrupts. “That’s a lie. You frequently make spreadsheets before our vacations and even went so far as to make a household chores list.”

“Well, that’s just good sense!”

“And second,” he continues, as though you have not spoken. “It’s not quite the same, is it?”

“What do you mean?” you say, watching him take a step closer. Jimin’s expression is decidedly less innocent than before.

“What I mean,” he exhales, taking your purse. “Is that I doubt spreadsheets spark the same interest for you as the idea of my girlfriend, naked on my massage table.”

“Jimin.” Dazedly, you watch him lower your purse to the floor. His hand intertwines with yours, pulling you forward. “That’s… you’re…”

He chuckles, stopping at the clean, white surface. “I just want you to relax, babe,” he says, dropping a kiss to your forehead. Jimin lingers for a moment before pulling away. “It’s been a crappy day, right? Let me make you feel better.”

Finally, you nod and shrug free from your coat. “Okay,” you agree, letting this fall. “Leave, then, and let me get undressed.”

Jimin arches a brow. “You do know I’ve seen you naked before, right?” he asks. “You do know I’m the one who had his mouth between your legs literally two nights ago?”

“Jimin!” you chide, face heating up. “This isn’t about that – this is strictly professional! How am I supposed to relax if I’m constantly thinking about your… you… well, that?”

Jimin chuckles, shaking his head as he walks down the hall. “Fine,” he says, disappearing into your bedroom. “Undress as much as you’re comfortable with and get under the sheets. I’ll be out in a minute, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, beginning to strip from your clothes. The lie on the floor for a moment before, changing your mind, you begin to fold them in half.

“Are you folding your clothes?”

You freeze, mid-fold to glance at the bedroom. “Don’t peek!” you call out, squinting down the length of the hall.

“I’m not,” Jimin laughs. “I just know you.”

“Do not!” you yell back, grinning as you place your clothes on top of the counter.

Returning to the massage table, you cock your head to one side. It is massage protocol to strip down as much as you prefer. It means you could be naked under the sheet but honestly, you do not trust yourself, nor Jimin to remain professional if you do. So, leaving your black panties on, you shimmy beneath the covers.

At the last moment, you unhook your bra to fling across the room. There is a thin line between propriety and missing the entire point of the massage, after all.

A few minutes later, Jimin calls out, “Can I come back now?”

“Yes,” you respond, head buried in the hole of the table.

Footsteps reach your ears, padding down the length of the hall. Jimin’s bare feet stop before you, wriggling his toes and making you giggle. You listen to the sound of him moisturizing his hands and inhale, eyelids fluttering when you smell eucalyptus.

“Are you ready?” he asks, voice dropping an octave.

You nod, stilling when Jimin pulls your hair to one side. Delicately, he tugs the sheet from your shoulders, lowering this until it pools around your waist. Shutting your eyes at the chill, you fight back a shiver when Jimin’s hands touch your back.

“Inhale,” he demands, quiet.

You do.

“Now, exhale.”

Obeying, you try not to move.

“Good,” Jimin says, sounding pleased.

There is a smirk to his voice, and you would tell him off, but his hands are already moving. He starts off gently, applying light pressure to each part of your back. Jimin makes his way down your body, giving each muscle group attention before returning to your head.

There is another pump of something, and his hands return to your body, now slick with oil. You inhale sharply, but Jimin does not respond. Thumbs finding the grooves in your back, he slowly traces up and back down. Palms seeking your skin, he gently rubs oil into your body. Each time he nears your lower back, he remains strictly professional. It is as though there are giant, red lines marking the no-go spots on your skin. Very Fifty Shades of him.

The moment you think this, you stifle a laugh. Jimin would think this funny but before you can tell him, his hands return to your shoulders. Increasing the pressure, he begins to knead the sore muscle.

“Is the pressure good?” he asks, business-like.

Nodding into the terrycloth, you realize he cannot see. “Yes,” you say, exhaling. “It’s perfect.”

Jimin laughs quietly. “Harder?”

His voice is teasing and you stiffen. “Jimin…” you mutter, a warning.

He truly laughs now, somewhat abashed. “Okay, okay. I promise that, from now on, I’ll be on my best behavior. This is just about you – fuck,” Jimin huffs, lowering his forearm to your back. “Do you sit hunched at your computer every day, Y/N?”

“I work in an office!” you complain, whining into the table.

Making a noise of dismissal, Jimin steadily works on the muscle. You wince, feeling him find several knots. “You should do exercises,” he says, grumbling to himself. “Every few hours, look up at the ceiling and then down at the floor. Roll your shoulders a bit. It will do wonders, I promise.”

“Noted,” you say, exhaling deeply.

Jimin chuckles. “Sorry, baby.” Leaning down, he presses a kiss to your neck. His hands continue their work. “I just want you to be healthy. To feel good.”

“Mm, I feel pretty good right now,” you say, closing your eyes.

Jimin laughs, falling silent when he begins to ease over your shoulders. His fingers expertly knead muscle, wiping the tension bit by bit from your body. God – now, you understand why Jimin is so in demand as a masseuse. He knows just what to do which has you melting into the table.

Gently, Jimin takes your arm to stretch the ligaments. His hands smooths down your bicep, easing the stress of that one workout this week. When he flips your hand in his, you audibly sigh. Jimin’s touch stays gentle, stretching your fingertips back one by one. With the pads of his thumbs, he begins to massage your palm.

A groan escapes.

Jimin pauses. “Baby,” he murmurs. “You can’t make those noises on my table.”

“Why not?” you mumble into the sheets.

“Because you make the same noises with my cock down your throat.”

“Jimin!”

He laughs, easing his hands up your shoulders. “Shh.” Jimin presses another kiss to your neck. “See – that’s why you can’t make those noises. I’m trying to be a professional.”

“Do you kiss all your patients’ necks?”

Kissing you again, Jimin pulls back. “No. Now, stay quiet and let me make you less tense.”

You snort, nearly missing the sound of oil hitting the table. When Jimin’s hands return to your back, he glides smoothly down the panes of your body. Inhaling slowly, you exhale and try to focus on the sensation. This is not Jimin, you tell yourself. This is just a nice massage by a stranger; not by your devastatingly handsome boyfriend who is good with his hands.

This helps for a bit, until Jimin’s hands find your lower back. “Can I remove the sheet?” he asks, softer than before.

After a brief pause, you nod. “Y-yeah.”

Ignoring your stammer, Jimin simply removes the sheet and drapes this over a chair. “Is the temperature alright?” Jimin asks. The massage oil bottle is lifted again.

“It’s good.”

“Good,” Jimin responds, hands finding your legs. He goes lower, traveling from your upper thighs to calves and oiling your skin. Eyes closed, you savor the feeling of his well-practiced fingers.

Jimin huffs, breaking the silence. “Baby. Are you doing those stretches I taught you after you run?”

Your eyes snap open. “Jimin,” you half-laugh. When you try to turn and face him, he presses a hand on your back. “I thought this was supposed to relax me?”

“It is!” he insists, although you can hear the grin in his voice. “Your calves are just tight – that has to be painful!”

“Huh.” You snuggle lower on the table. “Maybe if you massaged them every night, they’d feel better.”

Chuckling, Jimin’s thumbs slide up the back of your legs. “Someone’s greedy.”

“You’re just… really good at this.”

“You think?” Jimin’s breath hitches when he reaches your thighs. He hesitates for a moment, fingers close to your panties. “Would you like me to continue?” he asks, almost pleasant. “To the gluteus region?”

“... you want to massage my butt.”

“The gluteus region,” Jimin repeats, dragging both hands down your thighs. “I want to help you relax and right now, your gluteus region is tense.”

“Probably because you’re staring at it.”

“I mean, it’s a nice butt.”

“Professionalism!” you scold, grinning into the sheet.

Jimin’s hands hover at your panties. “Well?”

You consider for a moment. “Do your worst.”

Jimin chuckles, hands sliding to either side of your ass. “Breathe in deeply,” he instructs, waiting until you obey. “Now, exhale.”

You follow.

Jimin begins in a professional manner, working mainly the outer muscles. Using elbow and forearm, he massages until you begin to relax. Sinking further into the table, you begin to forget this is Jimin at all. It has been such a long day and his hands feel so good, wiping pain from your body.

Except.

As Jimin begins to knead lower, his thumbs slip briefly beneath the lace of your panties. You still on the table, eyes opening to stare at the floor. Jimin pauses, unmoving before he does it again. Both his thumbs trace the groove where your ass meets your thigh and you stiffen a moment, before pushing your ass into his hands.

Jimin swears under his breath.

This is all the warning you have before he grips the sides of your underwear. Tugging roughly upwards, he exposes your ass on the table. You gasp, panties twisting in the wetness of your folds. You should say something. You should scold Jimin about the professional nature of this massage but instead, you decide – fuck it.

Arching a little, you press your legs tightly together.

Jimin inhales, hands still on your ass. His thumb traces your panties, teasing the skin just beneath the material. Each time he does this, he trails closer and closer to your sex. His fingers do not falter, though; not once does he move to give you what you crave.

The fabric of your underwear is tight on your sex, rubbing in a way which feels wholly indecent. Your panties are sticky, damp with arousal and it is not just the oil which has you dripping. Each tantalizing trace of his fingers makes you whimper but still, Jimin does nothing.

As soon as you think this, he grasps your ass firmly to spread your cheeks apart on the table.

“Fuck,” you hiss, arching against him.

Unable to take anymore, you lift your head to see him. Jimin stares back, neediness in his gaze. “Can I?” he pleads, hands still on your ass. “Please, baby… let me make you feel good. Like this.”

Unable to think of a coherent response, you nod.

Determination enters his gaze and, before you can move, he cups your heat with one hand. Still looking at you, Jimin’s middle finger drags up the length of your sex. He strokes over you slowly, pushing your underwear aside and into the mess of your slick. Shuddering, you cross both arms on the table to bury your head in your hands.

Arching upwards, you hear Jimin chuckle. “These,” he murmurs, gripping your panties. “They need to go.”

You do not protest, lifting your hips to aid him in slipping them off your legs. When you are finally naked on the table, Jimin walks to your front. Lifting your head, you meet his gaze once again.

“What do you want, baby?” he asks, soft.

“Take off your shirt,” you demand.

He nods. Grasping the hem, Jimin lifts this overhead to drop on the floor. Once he is shirtless, Jimin reaches out for a different bottle of oil.

Seeing the label, your jaw drops. “Hey!” you cry, reading erotic massage on the label. “You lied! You said this was strictly professional!”

Jimin smirks. “It is,” he agrees, repositioning himself at your ass. “Or, it was. Until you started making those noises.”

“You had that bottle on the table.”

“Preparing myself,” he explains, drizzling oil over your body, “for the inevitable.”

When his hands begin to slip up your ass, you groan. “I – oh, fine. Whatever.”

Jimin chuckles, cupping your cheeks with both hands. “Whatever?” he teases, finger slipping lower. “Is that you saying you want more?”

Giving in, you nod against the table. Already, you feel so on edge – the oil between your legs is driving you crazy. Leaning forward, Jimin brushes a kiss to your spine while his hand slips further forward. Cupping your pussy, the tips of his fingers brush over your clit. When he feels your body tense at the motion, Jimin inhales and repeats.

Rubbing slow circles, he slides his thumb into your cunt. You gasp, jerking forwards and Jimin squeezes your ass. “Bad,” he teases, breathless. “Stay still. It’ll feel deeper that way.”

Though you whimper, you nod and press your thighs tighter together. Jimin continues to stroke your sex, getting you swollen and messy against the sheet. His thumb rests inside you, unmoving despite the way your walls squeeze around him. Gently kissing your spine, Jimin’s chest finds your thigh while you squirm on the table.

“More?” he whispers.

Fervently, you nod. “Feels so good, Jimin. Please.”

His smile widens against your skin. If there is one thing your boyfriend loves, it is praise. As he withdraws, you whimper and push your ass backwards. You must seem needy, naked and rutting against him, but you know Jimin likes it. He likes watching you fuck yourself for his attention.

Spreading your thighs slowly, Jimin drizzles more oil between your legs. He stares at you for a moment, watching the beads drip down to your sex. Whimpering, your hands clench around nothing because you do not dare move, yet the feeling is torture. The oil mixes into your slick, pooling beneath you on the sheet of the table – you groan.

Jimin’s fingers scissor your folds, sliding up and down the length of your sex. His thumb slips over your asshole, wet with oil and arousal. “Is this what you want?” he teases, pushing against the hole.

You whimper, stretching to accommodate the little he moves. Jimin rests for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling. His thumb is slick – so is your body and, after a few seconds, a raw sort of pleasure begins to spread through your limbs.

“Oh,” you groan, going limp on the table. “Jimin.”

Withdrawing, Jimin wipes his hand on the sheet. “Not yet,” he says, sliding a different finger into your cunt.

“Shit,” you swear, buckling. “Yes. There!”

Chuckling lightly, Jimin adds a second finger. “There?” he teases, spreading the digits.

You groan, feeling him slowly scissor your walls. Jimin starts to slide in and out, fucking you with his fingers. “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs. “You’re doing so well. Can you take more?”

“Mhm,” you agree, turning your head on the sheet. “Harder, Jimin.”

Gaze darkening, Jimin nods and roughly, he shoves a third finger inside you. You groan, feeling stuffed from the motion until he snaps his wrist forward, fucking you hard. Loud, wet squelches fill the apartment as you are thrust crudely forward, nipples brushing the sheet.

Still, Jimin does not relent. Grasping your ass with one hand, he begins to move harder. You cannot help but wish his fingers were his cock, spreading you wider. When you glance over, you see Jimin has a raging hard-on beneath his slacks and know this will not be the end of tonight.

Not with how he bites down on his lip, staring at your pussy like a man on the brink. When he snaps his wrist forward, a fresh wave of arousal soaks the sheet beneath you. Moaning his name, your toes curl on the table. Tantalizingly slow, Jimin slides his thumb into your ass.

Hands twisting in the sheet, your orgasm slams into you with a gasp. For a moment you see stars, clenching around him as you choke on his name. Everything feels fuzzy, muted as you come back to reality.

Gently, Jimin presses a kiss to the your spine. His thumb slips from your ass, fingers withdrawing as you relax on the table. Exhaling deeply, you struggle to open your eyes. Every part of you tingles, aflame and you cannot help but want more.

Jimin slides a hand up your folds. “What’s this?” he murmurs, seeing how wet you still are. Although you shudder at the sensitivity, you do not push him away. “Do you want more, baby?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

Walking to the front of the table, Jimin comes to a stop. His cock rests at eye-level, making your mouth water.

Gently, he grasps your chin in one hand. “Are you sure?”

Turning your head, you lick the side of his finger. Jimin’s lips part, watching you lap at your arousal.

“Oh,” he murmurs, lowering himself to eye-level. “You are greedy, aren’t you? That’s good.” Lightly, he kisses your lips. “Whatever you want, tonight.”

You whimper when he pulls away, your chin still held firm in his grasp. Jimin stills and holds your mouth before his zipper. His bulge is now obvious, straining the seams of his pants.

“Wanna suck your cock,” you pout, glancing from beneath your lashes.

Without further ado, Jimin undoes his belt. Pulling this from his pants, he drops this on the floor and yanks down his zipper. His black boxer-briefs are barely able to hide the hard cock underneath. Still grasping your chin, Jimin lewdly grabs his package.

“Are you sure you can handle it?” he demands, not looking away. “Sure you want me to fuck your throat?”

“Want it, Jimin. I want you.”

Inhaling softly, the tip of his tongue touches the corner of his mouth. Without further ado, Jimin tugs his briefs below his ass. You cannot help but moan when his cock springs free from the fabric. He’s just so pretty and hard – thick, needy and wanting to get sucked.

Obediently, you open your mouth. Jimin fails to waste time, shuffling forward to place his tip between your lips. Lowering his cock to your tongue, he watches you lick the head. Moving forward, you seek more – until finally, Jimin releases your chin and grasps your hair.

He thrusts forward, pushing his cock past your lips. As you swirl your tongue, you taste his whole member. Acting on instinct, JImin wraps your hair tighter and you fight back a moan. As he withdraws, Jimin allows you to see his cock wet with saliva.

After another long pause, Jimin thrusts inside. Your mouth takes him easily, sucking hard on whatever he puts past your lips. Teasing, you hollow your cheeks and stare at him from the table. Jimin’s gaze hardens, hair falling forward to begin fucking your mouth. His hips move slow at first, increasing in speed when you moan around his cock.

“So good, baby,” he pants. “So fucking good like that. You look so damn good when you gag on my dick.”

As though to prove his point, Jimin thrusts even deeper. You choke when he hits the back of your throat, eyes watering sharply as Jimin smiles. Gently, he reaches down to wipe your eyes.

“So pretty,” he murmurs as he withdraws. “Think I wanna fuck you for real now, though.”

You nod, overeager and Jimin chuckles. He walks to the side of the table, gently helping you turn over.

“Can you walk?” Jimin looks at you critically. His thumb traces a gentle path up your throat. “Or do you need me to carry you?”

As tempting as the offer sounds, you shake your head. Every part of you feels beautifully pliant; ready and willing to let Jimin have his way with you. You can make it as far as the bed.

“Yeah?” he asks, careful.

When you nod a second time, Jimin gives in and helps you down from the table.

Grasping his arms, you sway for a moment. “Oh!” you gasp, core clenching around nothing.

The inside of your thighs are slippery from coming and seeing him like this, cock red and aching, makes your core throb.

“Careful.” Jimin hides a smile. “Can’t have you falling apart on me yet, Y/N.”

Turning around, his fingers intertwine with yours to tug you down the hall. As soon as you enter the bedroom, Jimin turns around to seize your mouth in a kiss.

“Mm,” he exhales, mouth opening yours.

Hands skimming your body, he moves even lower to cup your ass. Pulling you against him, Jimin’s bare cock pushes between your thighs. Slowly rutting forward, his tongue moves past your lips in a similar similar motion. Reaching even lower, Jimin grabs himself in one hand.

Breaking apart, he glances down to move his tip to your clit. This makes you whimper, still overly sensitive, but Jimin lingers only a moment. Pushing past your clit, he slides between your legs. Your thighs are still slippery with oil and cum, allowing Jimin’s cock to glide smoothly forward.

“Oh,” you exhale, eyes wide.

Gaze darkening, Jimin does this again. His cock slips between your folds, rubbing each inch of your sex before he withdraws. Feeling him this way feels oddly intimate – even more so when he re-grips your ass with both hands.

“Tell me when to stop,” Jimin grunts.

Without further warning, he plunges between you. Grasping his arms, your head spins a little when he starts to move faster. Holding tight to your ass, Jimin fucks between your legs. His length is dripping each time he pulls back, soaked thoroughly in your needy arousal.

“God.” Jimin pulls out. “Now,” he begs, gaze snapping to yours. “I have to fuck you now, Y/N. I need it.”

“I,” you exhale. “Yes. Where?”

“This is your day, baby,” he murmurs, bending to kiss your neck. “How do you want me to fuck you?”

“Against the wall,” you groan, head lolling back. “There.”

Pulling away, Jimin grasps your hand and tugs forward. When you reach the aforementioned wall, he turns you around and presses your palms to the wallpaper. Stopping behind you, Jimin’s hand slips between your legs.

“Ah,” he inhales, as his lips find your neck. Two of his fingers stretch your now-dripping walls. “Such a tight, wet pussy for me. How badly do you want my cock, baby?”

“Bad,” you gasp. “So bad. I need you inside me.”

Grasping his cock, Jimin teases his length up and down your wet folds. “Do you think you deserve it?”

“Jimin,” you pant, pushing your hips backwards. “Please.”

“Look who’s needy,” he says, sounding smug. Jimin places his tip at your opening. “But since you said please.”

Before you can respond, he thrusts inside you. Moaning out loud, your knees buckle at the suddenly too-full feeling. Jimin is there in an instant, one arm wrapped around your waist while the other interlaces with your hand on the wall. Hips pressed snug to your ass, he keeps you hostage against him.

Chuckling softly, Jimin kisses your cheek. “That’s it, baby,” he says, withdrawing slowly to thrust back in.

You gasp, breasts hitting the wall as his length jars you forward. His hips do not falter. Already, you have come once from his teasing – Jimin knows that for a second orgasm, you need his cock hard and rough. The deeper, the better.

“Fuck,” Jimin grunts, pulling you back on his length. “You’re squeezing me so tight, babe. How did I get so lucky? Such a tight, wet cunt – all for me.”

“I’m. The. Lucky. One,” you gasp, in time with his thrusts.

You are barely hanging on while he continues to fuck you. Jimin’s hips are relentless, hammering into you as you begin to see stars. Legs shaking, you fight to stay upright through the pleasure he gives you.

“That’s it,” Jimin breathes, tightly gripping your waist. “Stay with me, baby.”

Reaching backwards, you manage to grab hold of his ass. “Harder, Jimin,” you beg. “Tear me open – I want it, God, I want it.”

“Yeah?” he grunts, pushing you against the wall.

Playing with your nipple in one hand, his cock somehow gets even deeper. Now, you are whimpering, begging him to keep going because you are so fucking close. Luckily, he knows exactly what you need.

“Is that what you want?” Raising a palm, he roughly slaps your ass. “Want to be sore tomorrow, is that it? Want to feel my dick deep inside you? Wince every time you sit down? I want everyone in your office to see you walking around and know I fucked you so good. That I came so deep inside you, your panties are still wet.”

“Yes!” Reaching between your legs, you rub over yourself. “Fuck, Jimin,” you moan. “Keep going.”

Spanking you harder, he makes you cry out in pleasure.

“That’s it, baby,” Jimin croons. “Touch yourself like that. I’ve got you – I’ll make you come, don’t worry. That’s my good girl,” he breathes, hips slamming against your ass. “That’s my sweet, little princess. My filthy cock-slut. Sound so sweet when you come on my cock.”

With a final thrust, he pushes you over the edge. As you cry out his name, you slump on the wall as your right hand goes limp. Jimin continues to hold on, fucking you harder through the most intense orgasm of your life. A few thrusts later, he comes inside you. Hot ropes of cum coat your walls, making you moan and lower your head to the wall.

Jimin stays there for a moment, cock softening inside you. At last, he exhales and gently kisses your neck. “Shit,” he chuckles, withdrawing. One of his hands cups your center. “I probably should’ve made sure there was a tissue in reach before I started fucking you, yeah?”

“Jimin,” you groan, still smushed between him and the wall. “I can’t stand for much longer.”

“Oh, right,” Jimin says. “Hold that,” he demands, letting your hand replace his. “I’ll be right back with a towel.”

“Hurry!” you whine.

Jimin disappears into the bathroom, lights flicking on before, a few seconds later, he reemerges with a damp towel. “Here,” he chuckles, cleaning you off. Once finished, he raises a brow. “Now, do you need that lift to the bed?”

Silently, you hold out your arms. Jimin laughs, tossing the cloth on the ground.

“Jimin!” you protest. Before you can say more, he bends and lifts you over his shoulder. “Jimin!” you squeal, laughing when he starts to carry you.

Spanking your ass again, he immediately rubs the sore spot. “Sorry,” Jimin grins, setting you down on the bed. “I probably left a mark.”

“I don’t care.” Sighing happily, you stretch out like a cat. “That was the best gift ever.”

Smiling, Jimin jogs to grab the towel and toss this into a hamper. When he returns, Jimin takes a running start to land on the bed. He collapses beside you, rolling over to cage you within his arms.

“Sorry we didn’t finish the massage,” Jimin whispers, blinking adorably.

You smile, carding both hands through his hair. “It’s okay,” you say, thumbs rubbing his cheeks. Jimin’s naked body is warm, flushed against yours. “I definitely feel less tense now.”

“Oh, yeah?” he murmurs, pressing his lips to yours.

“Mhm,” you agree, smiling into his kiss. “Ten out of ten, in terms of effectiveness.”

“Ten out of ten, you said?” Jimin’s smile widens. “I hope you intend to prove that theory.”

“Of course,” you nod, lowering your head to his chest. “As soon as I take a quick nap.”

Jimin chuckles, smoothing hair back from your face. “I love you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Love you, too.”

cross-posted to Wattpad here

#btsbookclub #smutcentralnet #bangtanarmynet #jimin smut #bts smut #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin au #bts au #jimin writing #bts writing #jimin masseuse #bts masseuse

2K notes · View notes