Chasing Cars | Masterpost (jjk)
☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆status: on-going (teaser out soon!)
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female reader, Namjoon x OC, Jin x OC, Jimin x OC, Taehyung x OC and others.
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆total word count: 182.2k (lmao my fingers slipped)
☆a/n: I got the idea for this fic just a little over a year ago, following a power outage that lasted for a few days where I live and Jungkook's live where he kept coming back with different outfits (the white dress shirt hit me right in the gut). It took me a long time to write, as I was working on multiple other projects at the same time, but I am so so happy to be ready to share this baby with you guys <3
☆Thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing this monster <3 (and for all your encouragement and support)
☆And a special thank you to @wintaerbaer and @btsborahaee for encouraging me and supporting me whenever I screamed to you about this fic
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
➳Teaser (Jungkook pov): the day he met you (1.1k)
You fucking touch her, you're dead.
➳Chapter one: when the Incident happens (11.8k)
Jungkook is Tae's best friend.
➳Chapter two: when Jungkook teases you (10.2k)
You know I hate that nickname.
➳Chapter three: when Valentine's Day happens (13.1k)
You know, Taehyung doesn’t have to know everything.
➳Chapter four: when you and Jeon Jungkook clash (9.5k)
I was just going to say that we should keep this between us.
➳Chapter five: when you have to go back to reality (12.1k)
We just pretend nothing happened, no?
➳Chapter six: when Jungkook hosts his friends over (9.6k)
I really want to kiss you right now.
➳Chapter seven: when doubt makes you question everything
Why do you want to believe the worst of me so bad?
➳Chapter eight: when secrets are unveiled in New York (13.5k)
I want you.
➳Chapter nine: when a party makes Jungkook jealous (11.2k)
You make me insane.
➳Chapter ten: when time slips through your fingers (10.1k)
I don’t want to lose you, peach.
➳Chapter eleven: when Jungkook visits Taehyung in Paris (8.4k)
Can’t wait for you to be back.
➳Chapter twelve: when it breaks (7.3k)
I can’t be with you.
➳Chapter thirteen: when it's too late (8.9k)
I have to talk to him.
➳Chapter fourteen: when the truth comes out (12.2k)
We never told each other how we felt.
➳Chapter fifteen: when you find your way back to Jungkook (7.4k)
You came?
➳Chapter sixteen: when Jungkook takes you out on a date (8.5k)
I think I was waiting for you my whole life.
➳Chapter seventeen: when forever awaits you (9k)
Getting to love you is the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to me.
Drabbles in Jungkook's pov (might add more as the story goes on)
➳Drabble 1: the engagement party (453)
Have fun while it lasts.
➳Drabble 2: after a call in Paris (596)
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
➳Drabble 3: a conversation with his mother (644)
Nothing strengthens a man more than heartbreak.
➳Drabble 4: a conversation with Taehyung (1.1k)
It’s never been like that with her.
☆☆☆☆☆
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
753 notes
·
View notes
pieces
they fight. brownstone era. for @dreamsinthewitchouse. ~1k.
It starts out so small that Henry hardly realizes what it’s become until it’s too late. He doesn’t mean to sigh when Alex gets home and sets his things down at the table, next to the dinner Henry’s spent hours making only to then watch grow cold. But then Alex’s apology—which Henry is certain he means but rather wishes hadn’t been needed to start with—feels just sharp enough that Henry is hurt by it, and the hurt comes out all wrong.
It comes out angry, and maybe a little bit selfish, and Alex is stretched thin as it is, Henry knows this, yet once he’s made it about himself it’s like a disease and he can’t seem to stop it from spreading.
And then he hears Alex say that he can take the couch, and Henry goes so still it’s as if Alex just dealt him a physical blow. They’re fighting, he realizes. It’s one dinner, which Alex hadn’t even known he was missing, and now it’s come to them sleeping apart because Henry’s little feelings got wounded?
“No,” says Henry. “Absolutely not.”
Alex rubs tiredly at his eyes. “Are we really going to fight about this, too?”
“No,” says Henry hotly, “because this part is not up for discussion. You’re the one with exams tomorrow, so I’ll be taking the couch tonight, thanks.”
“Hen,” Alex starts, but Henry walks past him into the kitchen. He’s hanging on by a death grip to his very last shred of dignity when all he wants to do is let go.
.
His cloudy mood dissipates halfway through doing the dishes. Still, it takes with it more than just anger, draining him totally, leaving him not so much clear-headed as feeling like he’s all hollowed out.
Henry knows he’ll get no sleep tonight.
It’s not the couch itself, of course; it’s that even after all this time, sleep still doesn’t come easily without Alex there beside him. It’s David worrying at Henry’s feet, making distressed little snuffling sounds. It’s that no matter how small the fight, or how infrequently they do it, each time it never fails to awaken in Henry all the old fears that Alex will leave him. That Alex will finally decide he’s had enough of—well, all of this. All of Henry.
He tries not to think it too often. It’s not fair to Alex, and to the beautiful life that they’ve built together, but when 3AM comes and the semi-delirium of no sleep sets in, those fears are harder to write off as not real.
He wants nothing more than to go to Alex. To hold him and tell him how sorry he is, that he’s asked for more than he has any right to. That loving someone like Henry is neither simple nor easy, he knows, and he wants to be better, he will be better, for Alex. But that would be letting his fears speak for him, saying he’s less than, that the broken things in him are simply not meant to be loved.
Henry can do better than that. Alex would never stand for such talk, and perhaps more importantly, Henry will not stand for it either.
He tosses and turns, and lets the fears have their moment, looming large there in the dark. And then he gathers a blanket around his shoulders and heads up the stairs.
.
The light is still on in their bedroom. Henry can hear the flip of a page, the faint scratch of a pen from behind the door. He closes his eyes and pictures Alex at their desk, a hand through his hair, his forehead creased in concentration. Henry’s soothed by the routine of it, the familiar touches of a life with a person he knows so well and loves more than it should be possible to love another person but isn’t.
And he owes it to Alex, to let Alex love him back the same way.
Henry tucks himself in right there in the hallway, content just to know that Alex is there, and to not demand anything more of him than that. The fears retreat to their shadows once more, back to a smaller haunting—always there, a part of Henry, but a part that he knows Alex loves, just as fiercely as the rest of him, always.
.
He’s not certain how long he’s dozed for, but the next thing he knows is the feel of Alex’s lips on his brow. The soft way he murmurs, “Baby. Scoot over. David, you too. How long have you been here? Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
“Mm.” Henry cracks a bleary eye open as Alex drapes something heavy around them. His arms encircle Henry next, and it’s hard to think of a reason to move now that it feels like they’re both where they should be. David noses his way beneath the covers, shifting down to curl at their feet. “Love, are these our bed linens?”
“Yeah,” says Alex, nuzzling into Henry’s neck. That one simple touch is enough to make Henry’s entire chest ache with relief. “Was going to sneak onto the couch next to you. This works too though. Fuck, I missed you.”
“We shouldn’t stay on the floor,” Henry tells him, burrowing closer, breathing him in. His words are half-muffled against Alex’s chest. “You need rest, in an actual bed. You’ve worked hard and you deserve the world to show for it.”
“Don’t need any of that,” says Alex. “Just you. I will fight you on that part,” he adds when Henry opens his mouth. “I’m so pissed at myself that you thought for even a second any of those things could matter to me more than this.”
“No, I’ve been selfish,” frowns Henry. “I’ve been too focused on what I want, and what makes me happy, and—”
“Good,” says Alex. “It’s about fucking time.”
And then he leans in and kisses Henry like it’s everything Alex wants too, Henry defending himself, Henry fighting for what he wants and deserves. Henry, knowing he’s loved, and loved, for all that he is and never for a single thing less than that.
173 notes
·
View notes
Slow Dancing in Circles
Ascended Astarion || Astarion x f!Tav || ao3 || Masterlist
Rating: M , +18 Word Count: +1.4k Warnings: Ascended Astarion, abuse, mentions of sex (dub-con?, no description of sex act), mentions of death, adult themes.
And so it’s just you and him going through the same old motions, following a routine of his design—you always do, these days. Or decades. Centuries? Who knows? Not that it matters, no. You’ve been doing this for a very long time. Agreeing. Smiling. Fighting. Fucking. Dancing. Crying. Blood. So much blood. Even when this ballroom is long dead, the Gate is still bleeding red—for you, he says. Always for you.
a/n: said I wouldn't do AA content but I talk a lot, apparently. Written in a frenzy. Another not so edited work, because I'm playing around with my writing lately and also try to chill a little. And it's 3am, make of that information what you will.
The Vampire Lord’s hand is clasping yours tightly as you dance around his empty ballroom. There’s no music accompanying you tonight—there was once, but not anymore. You can’t say when it crept in exactly, the heavy silence in this grand room. You only know that the music faded gradually, once upon a time, so slowly that you only noticed its absence when it had long fallen silent. Not that it matters, now.
The Lord of the house and you—his consort, his bride, his little love—are the only guests this room has seen in years, but you still know the steps of this dance by your cold, undead heart. You’ve gone through these same motions thousands of times before, and still, the Vampire Lord insists on guiding you through them. It’s not that he fears you’ll forget your place in time—you can’t, because he seldom wastes an opportunity reminding you.
Follow my lead, little love, he purrs into your ear. It’s not like you could do otherwise.
And so it’s just you and him dancing through a withering ballroom, old grandeur slowly crumbling under years of silence and moonlit dust. One step forward, two steps back. Left. Right. Left. Left. Spin. Back. Back. Forward, please? Back. Left. No, pet, start again. There’s no end to this dance, unless the Vampire Lord wishes so, and he never does.
And so it’s just you and him going through the same old motions, following a routine of his design—you always do, these days. Or decades. Centuries? Who knows? Not that it matters, no. You’ve been doing this for a very long time. Agreeing. Smiling. Fighting. Fucking. Dancing. Crying. Blood. So much blood. Even when this ballroom is long dead, the Gate is still bleeding red—for you, he says. Always for you.
You’re hungry, little love.
Are you? You must be, because he is. The Vampire Lord is insatiable. And so you must be, too. It’s just another step of this dance. Drinking. Sucking. Waiting. Killing. Damning. Fucking. Blood. So much blood. Love…? Once, maybe. You can’t be sure. Not anymore. Not since your fangs have grown dull. Not since you’re dancing in empty rooms.
There is no need for you to hunt, let alone starve—not when the Vampire Lord is providing for your every need. Has he ever not done that? No, you haven’t known a night of hunger in his house. How very kind. What would you do without him?
You should be grateful, little love.
He’s right. There’s no need for you to prowl dark alleys. No drunks, no whores, no rats to taint your pretty mouth with. Only the very best for you, pet. So the Vampire Lord brings you a handsome virgin when you’ve been good, and you always are for him. Gifts you an elf that has seen so many centuries, they’re carved into their beautiful leathery skin. Lies down a girl before you whose belly is so swollen with child that you can’t tell one heartbeat from the other. Their blood is calling to your instincts. You urge to pierce their skin with your fangs, but—
We ask before we bite, little love.
Yes. May you have some blood, please? Of course, pet, of course! A feast just for you! Who else would it be for? Who else would matter as much as you do?
Come, eat right up, little love!
The moment your food arrives in your chambers it’s pale-faced and stupid with mortal agony. You don’t particularly like that. Their blood has an odd taste to it when the servants had to wash piss and shit off their fear-paralysed bodies right before serving them to you. They’re still alive but stink of death; it’s distasteful. Pitiful. You hate the way they look at you. But you don’t tell the Vampire Lord that. It would be ungrateful, wouldn’t it?
I said eat, little love.
And doesn’t he feed you so lovingly, even when you reject his generosity at first? You don’t even need to use your own fangs to rip out their throats, he’s angry enough to do it for you. All you need to do is drink. Consume. Live. Please, even if you don’t want to. Listen to skin ripping and bone breaking. Screams fading into music fading into silence in the once-grand ballroom. Life fading to dust.
The Vampire Lord knows you prefer the ones that are already half-drained of life when they’re brought to you—he knows everything about you. You like them better because they don’t move. They don’t scream. They don’t go through the same motions over and over and over again. All they need to do is die. They’re as good as gone when the Vampire Lord takes the last of their blood in his mouth, pulls you into a heady kiss. They don’t know that their essence drains from his mouth into yours, down your throat, and all you need to see are glassy eyes when the hunger you haven’t even felt has finally been sated.
Good girl, little love, you’re so very good for me.
You wish you had been more like them, once upon a time, already gone instead of being consumed by fear. Stupid with love. Giving what wasn’t yours to give. Back then—when was it; does it even matter?—when your hands hadn’t yet been drenched in the blood of countless souls. Back then, when all you wanted was to protect the man you…No, it doesn’t matter. Not anymore. Even thinking like that is very bad of you. And yet, the Vampire Lord already knows of your wish. He knows it so well that you’ll never find the words to tell him of it yourself. He doesn’t want to hear of your wish, so silence remains. And it doesn’t matter. Not anymore.
I need you, little love.
The Vampire Lord fucks you the same way he dances with you—slow, but firmly. Holding you as close as your bodies allow, lest you vanish into one of the many empty rooms in this grand eroding house. That’s when you love him most. This body inside you is the only thing that still feels like him—the man you loved, once upon a time. Always. What was his name again? He had a silly laugh, you remember, and he was so very sad. Scared. He loved you so much.
Nothing feels as good as you do, little love.
The Vampire Lord plunging into you isn’t scared, nor is he very sad. He’s long over such mortal whims. He’s frantic, though, most of the time. He thinks he’s hiding it, but you went through the steps of this dance so many times that you can glimpse past the mask. He loves you still—his consort, his little love, his prisoner.
Not that it matters, because it’s just him and a shadow of yourself dancing in a crowded ballroom at all times. Seven thousand damned souls are tugging at your skirts, you can feel their grasp as much as you can feel the Vampire Lord clasping your wrist, his nails digging into your skin. They’re one and the same, death and him.
Follow my lead, little love. Follow my lead.
The Vampire Lord drags you over ash and bones and blood, so much blood that it makes your head spin. He’s a puppet master pulling the strings of all that’s dead and he won’t ever let go of you—you can tell by the smile on his face that doesn’t reach his all-seeing eyes. It never does.
You want to hurt him. He knows.
What is it, little love?
You hate him. That man who stole your lover, once upon a time. No, you have to admit that’s not quite right. You were there, too, after all. You’d given him the dagger and then held down your lover as the Vampire Lord stripped himself of the man he was before. You two killed him so very thoroughly, except for his body there is nothing left, now.
“I love you,” is all you can say. They’re not your words, not anymore.
I know, little love, you always will.
Sunlight is breaking through dusty old curtains. The Vampire Lord spins you dangerously close to the soaring heat reaching for you. Why doesn’t he just let this house go up in flames? It would be no trouble. You always burned so bright, once upon a time. It would take but a moment.
But burning isn’t part of this dance. Left. Death. Back. Hatred. Back. Eternity. Spin. Tears. Right. His name started with an A. Right. Aeterna amantes. Forward, please? Lovers forever. No, pet, start again. There is little love left, but, as you’re slow dancing in circles through this tomb, you know that eternity has only just begun.
104 notes
·
View notes
some early fluffy msr featuring once again a very tired scully and a worried mulder. if i end up writing more vignettes like these i might start posting them on ao3. this is set a few days after the first pfaster incident.
—
Mulder should really wake her up.
Not only is sleeping on the desk incredibly uncomfortable—speaking from a lot of experience—but he also knows that her first reaction to realising she fell asleep at work will be shame. She is slumped over in her usual chair, angled towards him and with her back to the door; every now and then she makes a little noise and buries her face deeper into the cradle of her arms.
Her blazer has ridden up her back and her blouse with it, revealing not soft skin but a deep-blue, slowly healing bruise. There are several more littering her entire body, and Mulder has caught her wincing or hissing in pain more times than he can count, swallowing the needle of guilt that comes with it. The memory of her sobbing into his chest is at the forefront of his mind, impermeable and achingly bright, and he regrets not shooting Pfaster dead right where he stood.
Scully had insisted on going back to work and shrugged off any and all attempts at getting her medical attention, eventually telling him to 'leave her alone or so help me god'. Not wanting to push, he had, and yet, seeing the shadows under her eyes match her bruises more and more, he wishes he had said something—anything—if just to make sure she is not hurting more than can be avoided.
It is not difficult to guess what exactly is keeping her up at night, and this is not the first or the last time a harrowing experience haunted them all the way home. Nightmares are as much part of the job as paperwork, and he would carry it all for her if he could.
Mulder watches her lips part for a sigh, a week's worth of fatigue finally catching up with her, and his indecision disappears entirely. He quietly pushes back his chair and tiptoes around their office, first taking the phones off the hook, then switching off their cellphones too. If anyone wanted something from them (and 'anyone' was almost exclusively Skinner), they were going to have to wait.
After locking the door, he turns off the ceiling light, picks up his coat, and gently drapes it over her shoulders; the heavy fabric wraps around her like a cocoon, making her appear even smaller than she already was. Shifting for a few seconds, Scully seems to adjust to the new weight and influx of warmth, but she quickly settles again with sleep softening her features. Hesitantly, Mulder reaches out and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, disproportionately endeared by the content noise he gets in response.
In the late afternoon twilight, her red hair is littered with specks of gold, and he cannot resist the urge to run a palm over the back of her head to smooth it down further. Leaning in, he presses a tender kiss on her temple, murmuring "_sweet dreams"_ before he can second-guess himself.
Mulder knows he cannot change what happened or the lingering trauma she is inevitably struggling with, but he can allow her to get the rest she needs, if just for a little while, his gaze never straying far from her. No uninvited visitors disturb her peace, and he busies himself with expense reports and filing while she naps.
The sun sets, the moon rises, and a handful of hours later, he catches her lashes fluttering and fingers twitching as she finds her way back to consciousness.
Contrary to his initial assumption, Scully doesn't seem to feel embarrassed or uncomfortable, but rather leans back and pulls his coat tighter around herself. Her eyes are clear, and he can spot the beginning of a smile tugging on her lips. He breathes against the sudden wave of anxiety washing over him, worried that he somehow overstepped.
"Better?"
Scully nods, letting out a puff of air and looking away as a blush rises to her cheeks.
"Thank you," she whispers, extending her arm to take his hand, which was starting to make a mess of the files without him noticing. Mulder squeezes it in return, his thumb unconsciously drawing circles along her knuckles. Unsure of how to deal with the emotions surging between them, he bites back the joke on his tongue and settles for honesty instead.
"If you ever—you can call. Anytime. Odds are I'm probably up anyway, and if-" he stumbles, mentally preparing himself to see her walls slot back into place, but she is meeting his gaze with steady, familiar affection.
"If that's something I can do, please. Let me."
Scully squeezes his hand one more time before pulling back, carefully pushing herself upright. His coat is swallowing her, merging her with the creeping shadows on the wall, and her hair is a flame, drawing him in like a moth to the light. His light.
"Dinner? Your choice."
Mulder smiles, recognising the offer for what it is: gratitude and affirmation wrapped in one.
"Let's go."
(When Scully calls him later in the early morning hours, they end up falling asleep together, and seeing her lively and infinitely less tired at work is worth the phone bills he continues to amass over the next few weeks.)
73 notes
·
View notes
Southern & Slow
Joel Miller x Reader
Shorter Drabble based on Luke Bryan’s song Southern and Slow
Warnings - reader described as female, soft smut, piv, sex, talk of sex, mentions of pregnancy and having a baby, age gap, reader late twenties 28 Joel around 48, feelings, talk of love, no outbreak au, quoting of The Notebook, my terrible writing. No use of y/n in this one.
Word count 1.6K
This song just reminded me soo much of older Joel with his loyal sweet girl.
When you love me slow and southern like a Sunday
Like muddy water rollin' by a riverbank
Like some sleepy little town, down with the moon
Livin' like honey drippin' off a spoon
Like the sun that takes an hour to get behind the water tower
'Bout the speed of watchin' wildflowers grow
Ain't but two ways this old boy's gonna go
Slow and southern, southern and slow, southern and slow
Waking up in the warm Texas sun with your gorgeous cowboy pressed up against you ………. that will never grow old. You're both still naked from last nights activities, and the feeling of his skin against yours is heavenly. You roll over so you can see his face, smiling at the sight, his hair is stuck up in every direction and curls sticking to his forehead in the sweaty Texan heat. His face looks so relaxed, frown lines almost invisible, the weight of the world off his shoulders for a little while. You loved Sunday mornings, they were always lazy, slow and intimate. They usually lead to slow, calm and lazy days, walks by the river, soft kisses, slow dancing in the kitchen, and watching the sunsets from the porch while Joel plays his guitar.
The small town you’d moved too was sleepy on Sundays, no one ever had anywhere to rush too. After you both were married Joel built you both a home, one you’d both spend the rest of your days in. You’d designed it together, you’d said you ‘want a white house with blue shutters and a room overlooking the river so I can paint’ quoting your favourite story. But Joel bless him he took it very seriously, so that’s what you got a beautiful little White House, with gorgeous pale blue shutters and a small room facing the river, where you had space to paint, draw and write.
Life was good, Joel had taken a extra day a week off work, giving more of the reigns to Tommy. Therefore giving himself a longer weekend to rest and spend time with you. You worked for a writing and editing company so you mainly worked from home, only having to go to Austen sometimes. You are also working on writing your own book, slowly but surely.
Looking at your sleeping cowboy once more you gently move a curl from his forehead, stroking down his cheek, watching as his face twitches and his eyebrows furrow. My goodness you loved him, sometimes you worry you love him a little too much, but he loves you equally so you guess it’s ok. How could you not love a man like Joel, a man who loves you so completely, who protects you, makes you laugh, sings songs for you and builds a home for you both.
When you’d first told your parents about Joel, they weren’t too sure, there was an obvious age gap and they felt you had a whole life to live. But the second they met him that all changed, they got it, understood wholeheartedly why you loved this man. Now he’s part of the family, as you are his, Sarah warmed to the idea instantly, surprising you both as you feared she would be the one to object, you were only eight years older than her. But it was Tommy and Maria who took a bit longer to warm up to you, but seeing how happy you made Joel everyone eventually accepted your relationship, five years in now and you both couldn’t be happier.
Joel stirs awake mumbling “Good mornin’ darlin’” nuzzling his face into your neck, “Morning baby” you hum. Bringing your hand to run through his curls, slowly scratching his scalp. He lets out a contented groan, causing you to smirk to yourself. Joel begins tentatively kissing your neck, finding your sweet spot and gently sucking. You moan arching into him, the sheet barely covering you both slipping down around your thighs now, Joel took that as enough of a reason to slowly slide on top of you, his hands stroking and grabbing at any skin he could find.
“I can never get over how soft you feel under me sweetheart” Joel begins, his hand now sliding between your thighs “soo soft and smooth and wet for me huh” he continues bringing his mouth back up to yours, licking slowly into your mouth, his tongue caressing yours. His fingers glide through your slick, bringing it up to rub slow circles around your clit, causing you to gasp into his mouth.
No matter how much time goes by, every time with Joel is like the first, every time makes you erupt with butterflies and quiver under his expert touch. You arch even closer to him, moulding your body to his as you begin rocking your hips into his hand. “Needy this mornin’ aren’t we darlin’ don’t worry I’ve got you” he hums, inserting two fingers into your heat, and using his palm against your clit. He finds your toe curing spot instantly and precisely, using the come hither motion while simultaneously rubbing your bud “Joel fuck! I’m gonna cum” you moan, “That’s it baby let go for me” Joel instructs, and you do you cum hard around his fingers, gasping into his ears.
You’re still coming down when you feel the blunt end of his cock pushing into your core, as he slowly nestles his way home. Grabbing your hand he laces his fingers with yours, kissing your palm before rolling his hips into yours. Your spare arm grabs his back for purchase, fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck. “God Joel you feel so good” you pant, “Yeah?” He asks “You’re made for me sweetheart, made for me and no one else, this pussy is mine! Only my cock can make you feel this good right baby?” He trails off while punctuating everything with deep hard thrusts. “Yes Joel all yours, I am all yours!” You mumble back then like a mantra you repeat ‘Joel Joel Joel’.
There’s no rush on these lazy mornings, he never speeds up his thrusts, just keeps the steady rhythm as he makes love to you deep and slow. “Fuck Joel I’m close, come with me” you moan, now meeting his movements with your own. “Ok baby girl shit! Almost there hang on a bit longer for me” he rasps. He kisses you passionately, his kiss matching his thrusts slow and steady, as he pulls you impossibly closer.
“Now baby! Let go for me” he pleads, hand moving between your legs once more to roll over your sensitive pearl, “Joel!!!” You whine as you come undone, pussy clamping down on his cock, Joel reaching his end simultaneously and emptying himself inside you with a low moan.
You run your hands up and down his back, while placing sweet kisses to his shoulder, pulling his head up he looks at you with such a soft and loving expression, “I love you darlin’” “I love you too” giving you a quick peck he pulls out, walking on wobbly legs to the bathroom where he turns on the shower, “Come on sweetheart, let’s clean up” he insists, pulling you up with him and carrying you to the shower.
The morning carried on lazily, your shower was spent carefully washing each other with dopey smiles, all while having long snuggles under the steaming water. You made coffee together and enjoyed drinking it on your porch, watching the river flow, and the wildflowers blow in the breeze. Before an impromptu call to Tommy, inviting him, Maria and their beautiful baby girl, over for lunch.
You stood leaning on the doorframe lovingly watching Tommy and Joel play with the baby, while Maria sat close by engaging in casual conversation with the men. You couldn’t remember when you’d last felt so content, and watching Joel play with the baby did something to you. A new sensation of butterflies coursing through your stomach. Joel looks up at you then, smiling to himself as he stands and makes his way over to you.
Wrapping his arms around you he pulls you in close, stroking a hand down your cheek. Warm pools of chocolate searching your eyes, “What do you think darlin’?” Joel hinted, nudging you and looking over at the new parents, “Huh?” You reply confused. “Should we have one? Been thinking about it a lot recently, you all round carrying my baby” Joel smirks as you gasp “Really” you stutter, shocked he’s really suggesting it. “Yeah really, I think you’d make a wonderful mother, and I’m getting on now. So if we were going to have one it would need to be now, well at least soon” he replies, obviously being completely honest.
You grin so wide your mouth ached, you’d love to have a baby with this man, but with Sarah being all grown up you didn’t think it would be in the cards for Joel, and you had accepted that, Joel would always be enough. “Your sure? Because I mean we don’t have too if you don’t really want an….” Joel cuts you off with a soft kiss “I’m sure darlin’ in fact nothing would make me happier” you grin again “Ok, yeah let’s have one” you reply, “Yeah?” He asks once more, “Yeah I’d love to have your baby Joel” you affirm. He smiles and pulls you in close again, arm over your shoulder, while watching his brother and niece.
Yeah, you loved these slow southern Sundays with your cowboy.
28 notes
·
View notes
I have a request!!! This is a story i will write someday, but I trust an amazing writer like yourself for this! Vegeta is in situationship with the reader, and realizes one day that he actually cares about her and loves her. In my head, this is an no powers au, and the reader is younger than him and she already is in love with him. I know this is not very specific 😅 but you can work around it however you want and you can ignore the details i gave if they bother you as well! But thank you so much for reading all my vague idea 💗
Pairing: Vegeta x Reader ( implied afab )
Content: M/18. MINORS DNI. au: modern au / no powers. wealthy!Vegeta. age difference; (40-45!Vegeta x 24-30!Reader). established fuck buddies. pining.
A/N: A perfect concept! ♥ This one was a challenge only because I am never good at modernizing Vegeta or focusing on age difference, but I enjoyed this a lot! I’d love to take a crack at this concept again in the future with a better grasp of it.
Too open…Too small…Too thin…A cropped jacket? Really? He seemed to have a look of disgust at them all, impatiently watching your hand ghost over the wares on the wall and immediately feeling his jaw clench from each inappropriate one you dared to show a little interest in. Your smaller hand kept getting swallowed up in his coat sleeves as you moved down the aisle, it was starting to bother him to watch you fidget and constantly adjust in it. He can’t help but notice how you did your best to hold it over your frame while browsing and making this longer than it should have been.
You turn to him when another catches your eye in your favorite color, gauging his favor at the choice, and then moving on to the next when the squint in his eyes says “no”.
His gaze skims a little further ahead of you as if to speed up this process by handling it himself. One of these coats had to be suitable for you, one that sits well on your shoulders, and the zipper won't bulge or fight to get over your chest. But your neck should still peek, he muses, and be able to breathe without a restricting collar. Your curves shouldn't be hidden under the material…Maybe a scarf to go with-
“—What the hell am I even doing here? You don't need me to buy a simple coat.” Vegeta caught himself and finally spoke up. He turned his nose up at this scenario, a hint of a growl in his tone. “I told you a long time ago to get a better one.”
He couldn’t wait to throw that in your face. You’re actually impressed he held his tongue for so long and you give him an innocent shrug in response. It was beginning to get hard to read his outburst as anything more than his bark now as he donned that predictable scowl you loved so much. “Sorry. If you want your coat back you can take it now.” The large sleeves easily slide down your smaller arms.
“Just hurry this up already. It's getting late.” He grimaced, speaking up quickly and stopping you from taking it off so soon. He's annoyed, even though it was his idea to bring you here for a better coat. You figured he was more annoyed with beating the idea in your ear almost every time you met and you continued to show up in your favorite old jacket regardless. You'd argue your old coat was handy! It did keep you warm getting from your front door to your car and vice versa. But then you were reckless and came to his front door without even that, the trek back to your car to get it feeling pointless when you were about to go inside anyway. Vegeta didn’t even say anything to you when the door opened, he just felt the rush of cold air pass the threshold before you and leered at you.
Then his thicker, slightly heavier coat hit your back and shoulders after he left you in the doorway and you understood that you had been lying to yourself for too long. The material was too cozy to not immediately get taken into its soothing warmth, snuggling it and shoving your hands into the deep pockets. Having only a moment to soak it all in, you were then promptly dragged away by the fuming man as he led you to his car. And now you’re here, scanning the coat section of a store you’d never think to set foot in. Still, you’re excited to be here.
Out in public with him, wearing something that belongs to him, needlessly—in your opinion—shopping for a replacement coat with him. You felt deeply acknowledged. Accepted. Your heart is restless in your chest while you try to contain yourself moving up and down the coat aisle. It's not like you had much in common outside of your attraction, so to share more than a few hours sweaty and naked with him was a nice change of pace. It left you wondering if he finally started to see the extent of your feelings for him or if you were just embellishing his generosity to be something more meaningful. He certainly doesn't seem to treat you differently than others aside from what you give each other in private, but there are instances like this that make you feel cared for like no other.
That same scowl watched over you now as you continued to gloss over the selection of coats and took note of the way you shifted your search from fashionable to functional by how you carefully looked over the price tags. Once you’re sure you’ve settled on one after a few meticulous moments, you turn back to him only to see he has moved from where he planted his feet to observe you. You let go of the hanger and move out of the aisle looking around and still fixing his jacket on you. That’s when you found his familiar silhouette at the register already, stuffing something in his pocket. His hand raises to the sales rep stopping them from bagging up the item on the counter and takes it in his hands. He sees you coming out of the aisle and walks up to you.
“Let’s go, we’re done here.”
“But I didn’t find-” Your favorite color fills your sights as he places a coat in your hand. A shade and taper at the waist that blends in with your wardrobe, and material that matched the heavy jacket hanging on your shoulders.
“Put it on.” It sounded like an order, but it’s just his impatience rearing itself again. Regardless, you don’t hesitate to switch the coats.
The smell, the texture, and a fit that doesn’t bind your shoulders and arms. You rush to a mirror to see it on yourself and gush at your reflection. He found this for you. He bought it for you and was sure to remove the price tag so you wouldn’t gawk at it. There was an emotional twinkle in your eyes when you turned back to him. Of all the things you wanted to say, all rushing to your tongue, “Thank you, Vegeta” is all you were able to get out and clutched the cozy new fabric to yourself. Your heart was pounding and his scowl softened.
Without a word, he gestures his head toward the door with his returned coat under his arm began to head for the exit. You rushed to his side, clinging to his other arm with your face on his shoulder and the biggest smile on your face. Vegeta stiffened at your firm grip but didn’t flinch away, holding the door open for you to exit first, your smaller hands shifting to hold his as he tailed you out the door.
Once you were back in the car and on the way back to his home, all the words you sat with piled up on the tip of your tongue again and caused you to fidget with his coat in your lap. You tried to distract yourself by scrolling through your phone and giving your feelings a chance to settle, but you couldn’t help stopping to admire the fabric of your new coat and the adorable opalescent fastens at your wrist keeping the sleeves from sliding up and down your arm. It’s too fancy for words. Suddenly inspired, you lift your phone and angle it up at yourself for a selfie in it. A thought crossed your mind, and you leaned over toward the driver’s side intending to capture both of you. You see his eyes flick from the road for a moment and his resting glare becomes more prominent.
“Who is that for?” He asked with his usual condescending tone.
“Me. You don’t mind?” He shrugs in response, uncaring on the matter by your answer and your eyes light up. “Really? You’re okay taking pictures with me?”
“...Do I need to make a face or something?”
You giggle, “No. Just smile with me.” That seemed to be the grueling part by the way his frown stretched skeptically. But he rolled his eyes and complied with a half-hearted smirk for your picture.
You have teased that his scowl makes him look older, but no one would know by simply looking at him that there is an evident gap between your generations. A man like him had no business giving you the attention he did and that’s probably why the approach to your relationship is so ambiguous. Moreover, unlike you, he comes from old money and most likely has “old money expectations”. There is a sense of entitlement to what he has and what he wants that proves that prestigious background. You could consider yourself as recreational to him as a round of golf or sipping cocktails in an infinity pool but you would just hurt your own feelings thinking like that.
A girl like you had to just be for a bit of fun for him though, right? Young and naive and swearing your independence is solid. But your feelings for him are real. It is his reliable presence and fantastic cock that keep you in contact with him, but also his mysterious allure. You wish you could figure out where you stood between what he has or wants, or if you truly are just a dalliance. Sometimes he treats you like he already has you and expects certain things about you that show his adoration beyond your body, but he's never directly said he wanted you for more than company for a night or two. To buy you something as permanent as a coat felt like a claim over you. He wants you comfortable against the cold even when he’s not around, and he doesn’t hesitate to fix that when you keep putting it off. But the fact of the matter is you’re just going back to his house so you could fuck.
“...Do I-...” Your tone broke and you cleared your throat, hesitating again. You don’t want to ambush him over the matter but you really want to get this off your chest. You glance up from your phone and his head is tilted towards you with his eyes still on the road.
“Speak up.”
“I-It’s nothing.” You quickly answer, shrug, and sit quietly for an endless minute. Then, you swallow your nerves. “...I just didn’t think I meant that much to you to do this.” Your hands slide down the collar of your cozy coat as you grip it and keep your eyes in your lap.
“Tch, It’s just a coat.” Vegeta brushed off the gesture.
“An expensive coat…” You corrected. “You picked this out and made them remove the tag so I can’t see how much to pay you back for it. So… unless I’m just… like your little baby doll now-”
“It’s a coat.” He firmly insisted, then scoffs. “You know how annoying it is to tell you to do something and you don’t do it? You freeze your ass off every time you show up on the entrance camera. What if I was on the other side of the house when you showed up?”
Waiting in the cold would feel like an eternity, you admitted to yourself. His house isn’t small, further proof of his prestige. “But I know you’re gonna let me in and warm me up. You don’t have to buy me a new coat.”
“And then you’re back out in the cold..” He huffs out a laugh as he shakes his head. “...Freezing in your car waiting for it to warm up again with that thin thing you call a jacket. No.” His driving posture relaxes, the older man's head and spine sinking back against his seat. “...I wanted to. Okay?”
“...Okay.” Your prepared rebuttal of your self-sufficiency falters in response to his suddenly softer tone. The dull pink in your cheeks and the rise of butterflies in response gave him your submission. You stare at him quietly for a moment watching the way his eyes flicked in thought and he finally sighed.
“I don’t know what I’m doing with you anymore…” Vegeta concedes and he freed a hand from the wheel to rub his forehead. There's an instance where his expression relaxes into one you've never seen, but as he begins to air his grievances his brows furrowed in their familiar way. “I don’t know what you want, you don’t ask me for anything. You only show up when I call, and gone before the sun is up. Is it the house? Do I scare you when we’re not just getting off?”
“No. No. I just thought…” Your breath trembles as you inhale and then you can't stop the words falling out once you let it go. “I don’t know, I just don’t wanna bother you or get in the way of your lifestyle. That’s why we just meet and fuck, right?”
“I want you in the way, damn it! I’m not just tolerating you for an easy fuck.” He suddenly bursts out and speaks in an accusatory tone. “You just don't act like you want more than that.”
It wasn’t as affectionate or romantic as you let your imagination curate it, but without a doubt that was the validation your lovesick heart sought. That's when the car stopped. You were back at his house. Something about his eyes fully on you now makes your thoughts spill like a broken pipe.
“I couldn't tell if you wanted more than that. We’ve only been doing it since we met. I thought It was much too soon to…fall for you like this..” You confessed, the uncertainty no longer in your voice.
“Believe it or not, it is more than your body that interests me. If you want to take things slower..”
The corners of your mouth twitch as you try to contain your smile, tightening your lips shut. You suddenly feel shy with this man who makes your eyes well up with tears trying to hold his entire cock in your mouth. Taking it slower means more time out together and you can’t help thinking about the dates you could go on that aren’t just a wine and dine for foreplay. Though you love that.
You lift your eyes to him and let your smile spread. “It doesn’t have to start tonight…” You suggest, your eyes reflecting the deep attraction you had for him right now. You get a smile in return, not that prideful or crooked smirk but a genuine smile and it makes you bite your lip enticingly. He did buy you a beautiful and comfy coat, after all. You should show your gratitude as you unbuckle your seatbelt and climb over your seat into his waiting arms.
19 notes
·
View notes
i personally don’t agree with your statement what you’re expected to reblog. i thought i could just use this app for fun and to read about my fav artists without being expected to do anything, and never really planned on being active and making reblogging a routine parr of my reading experience
then i guess you're not really aware with how this app works. tumblr is a reblogging site. that's the only way posts, or in this case fics, can get around and reach new audiences. the algorithm doesn't care aboit likes. tumblr doesn't care about comments (but i appreciate those as well!!)
if you enjoy and have fun reading the works of authors who spend hours of their days making content for you to consume, don't you think the bare minimum you can do is click that tiny button at the bottom of the post to show your appreciation, no?
102 notes
·
View notes
WAIT WHERES MIM?!?! PLEASE TELL ME YOU’LL RELEASE THAT ONE AGAIN PLEASE
I need you guys to understand that the reason I took down my stuff was for my own peace of mind because they're my stories and i started feeling unsafe having them out because of how they - and I - were being treated.
absolutely nothing is wrong with mim and I love that fic and I care so much about it which is why - for my peace of mind - i want it to belong to only me rn. I know the fic was only out a month after i finished it and that really upsets me about taking it down. i want to reupload it because i know people like the fic and i love sharing my stuff but also there's that level of how much the fic matters to me and how much more devastating it makes it when people are cruel. and how much it hurts when I, as the creator of something, am treated like I don't matter at all and that my stuff can so easily be stolen or copied. like, it's an extension of me, yknow? You can't separate content and creator in such a small and intimate sphere as fandom. like, you guys all use my first name when referring to me, yknow?? there's that sense of connection. and since it's such an intimate space, having that trust be betrayed or disrespected is so much more potent than if we were in a large fandom with a lot of creators.
the fear of having MiM copied is really immense and real for me rn and i know that's potentially me being overly paranoid but considering the Amount of times this has started to happen - and how blatantly rude and nasty and entitled readers have been getting with me and other creators over the last year - it's definitely not out of the realm of possibility.
MiM wasn't written for readers, it was written for me. and i shared it because i wanted to and that was wonderful. but to have any of my stuff stepped on so much just doesn't make me feel very safe in this fandom space rn and makes it hard to let people have access to something that matters so much to me.
I'm not saying MiM has been deleted forever, I'm just saying i want some more time for it to be mine.
9 notes
·
View notes
well folks its been a good two months of denial but i am finally ready to admit that the reason everything sucks is because of major depression relapse. if i werent so depressed id make this everyone elses problem by projecting it on to blorbo but alas
4 notes
·
View notes
A Dottore for @zhonglis-empty-wallet !
Ive been following em for a while, but I love Juni’s writing and how they do descriptions and building up the setting. Always a delight to read. 10/10 would recommend
25 notes
·
View notes
So i'm not going to do a follower celebration until I finish the halloween pieces for the month (I go on vacation tomorrow, planning to get the bulk of it done on vacation and then I'll post them all a handful of days apart) but gkdkdksk jesus 😭
I didn't even have time to do anything for 600 because 700 snuck up so quick GJDHFKS
I appreciate it sm though 😭 I can't promise anything on a big scale bc I thought I'd have more time for a cyoa type thing before 1k, but I'll try to keep doing polls at least as thanks and so you all get more input on what I work on next
7 notes
·
View notes
good morning my internet friends and enemies. Crunch from Crash Bandicoot is hot. now, other than that, you can hit my ask box and suggest post ideas, if you want to see any sort of ranking or title card analysis, and i hope you have a nice weekend
5 notes
·
View notes
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ 4:08 AM — GOJO SATORU.
contents. fluff, established relationships, sleepy n cuddly toru :(, just needed to write this to cope with the 236 manga leaks i guess. i just love him tons sobs i need him happy and loved and peaceful
“hey,” you poke satoru’s chest, hearing a low groan rumble under your cheek, “toru?”
“hmm?” oh. he sounds a little tired—maybe you should let him sleep.
“you awake?” you ask anyway.
“am now,” he mumbles—well, he’s already awake, so you might as well indulge in it now. “need somethin’, sweetheart?”
“jus’ missed you is all,” you pout—that makes him grin despite the way he yawns, all wide and smooth even as he fights the sleep in his eyes. you feel just a bit guilty, reaching to cup his cheek and running a thumb over his eyelid carefully.
“yeah?” he chuckles quietly, “‘m right here. you still miss me?”
“yeah,” you whisper, “always miss you. even when you’re right here.”
satoru’s grinning into your cheek as he leans down and presses a wet kiss to the skin—he can’t possibly be mad that you’ve woken him so late. he can’t be mad when it’s you, and it’s him, and it’s each other.
sleep can wait, there’s always time for that later. but there’s never a moment where he wants to risk counting on later when it comes to you.
“what’d you miss about me?” he hums, nibbling on your earlobe as his head buries into your neck. you shift, letting his body tuck against yours as your arms wrap around him—he feels safe like this, somehow. infinity doesn’t make him feel nearly as secure as the way your arms do, tight and warm and made just for holding him.
“dunno,” you murmur, “everything.”
“love me that much?” he asks cheekily, “me sleeping right beside you isn’t enough?”
“no,” you huff, “you can’t pay attention to me in your sleep.”
“my needy baby,” he snickers, rubbing circles into the small of your back with his large palm. he’s warm against you—you can feel the rhythm of his heart as it beats against your body. he’s pressed so close to you, that not even air can slip through the cracks.
truthfully, you don’t know why you wake satoru. you don’t know why you can’t sleep—you just know that you need him. here. now. always. forever. more and more and more and even more.
“toru?” you ask quietly, making him hum as his eyes droop back shut slowly—he must really be tired.
you stare at him fondly, stroking his hair as he sighs happily at the feeling. and then you press a kiss to his forehead, to his cheek, to the corner of his eyes where they crinkle when he smiles, and to those lips of his that always find yours no matter how long it takes.
he always comes back to you. always. he never won’t—that much you trust.
“got somethin’ on your mind, baby?” he asks slowly, voice thick with sleep. you giggle, scratching at his scalp as he smiles lightly.
he dozing off—you watch him, hopelessly endeared.
“i love you,” you whisper, “need you to know that. love you so, so much. kay?”
he cracks an eye open—stares at you like you’re the reason his heart ever started beating, like you’re the only one that could ever command it to stop. every inch of his face is laced with love so gentle, you can see the way it makes his skin glow.
you love him. you’re sure he loves you. that’s all you need to know it’ll be fine. everything else is an afterthought—just as long as you have satoru.
“woke me just to confess your love for me?” he gasps, “you’re down bad. real, real bad. i must be a super handsome, totally awesome boyfriend. i do try,” he says cheekily.
you giggle, rolling your eyes as you pinch his cheek.
“be humble, you jerk,” you say exasperatedly.
it sounds more like you’re in love. too much fondness slipping into your voice that it might make your teeth hurt from how sweet. satoru’s always had a sweet tooth, though—he accepts your love graciously, like it’s never too much.
if fact, it might just not be enough. he needs more, more, more.
“can’t,” he says slowly, yawning again, “you waking me up just to love me is a bit ego boosting.”
“this was a mistake,” you scoff—its playful, it’s fond. it sounds like deeply falling headfirst.
“aw c’mon,” he pouts—and then he’s brushing his lips against your neck a he clings closer to you, curling into your body with his six-foot-something stature as you pull the blanket tighter around him, “love you too. what was it you said again? oh, right—so, so much.”
“good,” you hum, nodding in satisfaction. “you better.”
“i do,” he chuckles, “can i sleep now? or are we gonna start talking about all the things we love about each other? cause i can stay up to listen to that, of course.”
“go to sleep, you idiot,” you scoff.
he grins. you press one last kiss to his forehead as you count the soft breaths he takes while he falls back asleep.
you love him—it’s all you ever want to do.
i cried while writing this and i cried thinking about the leaks and i cried while reading the leaks and i cried and cried and i’m tired of crying. gege when i catch you gege 🔫
12K notes
·
View notes
OH MY FUCKING GOD I AM. very happy. my speech i had to give that i crammed on bcs i was really anxious about even just thinking it and i had to deliver it memorized and in front of the whole class for the first time in years? i only got. minus 1.25
1 note
·
View note
Taking Calls
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: Whenever a man who makes you feel uncomfortable asks for your number, you give him your boyfriend’s number instead. Whenever he texts him all day and finally decides to call, Spencer plans on taking care of it.
Content/Warnings: Minor case details (nothing explicit), creep officer, loving boyfriend Spencer, intimidation mention, kissing, unprotected sex, Spencer answers a phone call in the middle of sex (I didn’t know how to word that so it works lmao.)
Word Count: 1.2K
Anon Request: I had a spicy idea where a creepy cop tries to get readers number for “work purposes” and instead she gives him Spencer’s number and the cop happens to call Spencer and reader while he’s in the middle of fucking reader or the reader is in the middle of giving him a blowjob and the cop sort of hears her in the background? I just thought you’d be the perfect person to write this 😍
Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request
🏷️ @kr-1-sta @iluvreid @nervousmoongiver @multifandom-on-the-side @ferrjulie @lov1ngreid @sobbingcryingattsizzles @doriantomybasil @thegluesong @rosiehale23
Spencer had his number given out before due to a prank on Derek’s end that had so many people blowing up his phone. It was something he vowed that he would get the man back for and specifically state that it could never happen again.
The team was on a case in Manhattan, a standard killer who had an awakened blood lust was terrorizing the city. After six victims, the NYPD felt it was best to invite the BAU onto the case, which seemed to be too little too late due to the man going dormant.
Every lead was buried so deep that you’d need an excavator to dig them up, still the team persisted. You were currently on day three, staying back at the police precinct along with Dave to interview the families of the deceased, hoping to dig up any leads.
You had currently stepped out for a brief break, standing by the coffee machine as you were getting one of the disposable cups, filling it to the brim with a healthy mixture of coffee and sugar. “Hey, Y/L/N, correct?” A voice came from behind you, making you turn to look over the person addressing you. Officer Laslow. “Hi, yes. That’s me. How can I help you?” You asked, eyebrows raising.
You didn’t like to judge people, however you had a very uneasy feeling around him. The way he was looking at you was a good enough reason to be uncomfortable, the man seeming to mentally undress you as he stared into your soul. “I was just wondering if your team had any leads? I mean, I’m sure the families know something,” He spoke, making you sigh as your shoulders slumped. “Nothing, unfortunately.” You spoke while sipping from the coffee cup in your hands.
“Nothing? What a shame. I was actually wondering if you and I could exchange numbers? No funny business, I’m just wanting to make sure we can stay in communication throughout this case. You know, share intel.”
He could’ve just asked Aaron for updates. However, in the moment of being uncomfortable and not knowing what to say, you were clearing your throat. “Well. Okay.. Just for intel though.” You murmured, slowly taking the device from his hands to put in Spencer’s number instead of your own. You’d explain things to your boyfriend later. Until then, you were doing the next best option. Spencer could handle this. You were sure of it.
As another day passed and there was no leads, the team was retreating to the hotel for the night to try and get some rest, even if they were overly focused on trying to catch the murderer running around freely. “Honey, I have a question.” Spencer began as he was walking from the bathroom, a pair of flannel pyjama pants and a white t-shirt clinging to his lanky frame. “I’ve just had a lot of texts today. The person is addressing you by name. Wanna talk about who you gave my number to?” He asked softly. He knew it had to be a big deal if you wouldn’t give someone your number.
“Some creep on the NYPD team. You should’ve seen the way he looked at me, Spencer. It made me so uncomfortable.” You shivered while looking over at your boyfriend. “I’m sorry that I gave him your number. I didn’t know what else to do.” The feeling of his hand rubbing your shoulder caused your body to relax, a soft sigh leaving his lips.
“I’m not upset with you by any means. I just wanted to ask. He didn’t try and touch you or force himself on you, right?” He asked, slowly letting his arm wrap around your shoulders as you shook your head. “No. Nothing like that. He was just twice my size and intimidating. I mean, he could’ve hurt me if I rejected him.” In this job, Spencer saw cases like that far too much, so he believed it.
“Come here.” He spoke while slowly pressing a few kisses against your cheek. “It’ll be okay. I’ll speak with Hotch about it tomorrow. It’ll get taken care of.” He smiled, the back of his knuckle gently caressing your cheek. “How did I get so lucky to be with you?” You asked softly, offering a smile as you leaned against his touch. “I’m the lucky one.” He mused, now moving to press a sweet kiss against your lips.
However, the kiss was only cut short whenever he could hear the ringtone on his phone designated for texts. “This guy is a real piece of work.” Your boyfriend muttered against your lips, opting to ignore the incessant sounds coming from his phone as he carried on your shared kiss. As the kids deepened, his hands were working to push your shirt over your head before his hands were working on your work pants. You hadn’t changed just yet, so he felt like he was definitely helping you out in the grand scheme of things.
Once you were undressed to his liking, it wasn’t long until your own hands were pushing at his clothes to bring him to the same level of unclothed as you were. “Lay down.” Spencer breathed as he broke the kiss, watching you push yourself back in bed before he was crawling on top of you to attach your lips once more. You were both eager, a lot of stress from this case as well as your own yearning for pleasure making things go just a little faster than usual. He used one hand to bring one of your legs around his waist, which prompted you to mirror your actions with your other leg.
Pushing your panties to the side, your boyfriend wasted no time pushing his cock inside of your eager cunt, a low groan leaving his lips as the hand propping him up was gripping the sheets. “Fuck. I love you.” He whispered, pressing a few sweet kisses to your lips. For once today, you felt like you could forget the officer from earlier, to enjoy the moment. Until Spencer was getting a call. “Are you kidding?” He huffed out of frustration, hips still thrusting at a slow pace as he was reaching over to take his cellphone from the bedside table.
“W-we should stop.” You breathed, knowing he had to take the call judging by the look on his face. “No. No, just lay there and take it, pretty girl. I’m gonna settle this once and for all.” He murmured. Before you could object, he was swiping to answer the call. “I don’t appreciate being ignored.” The male on the other end of the phone huffed. Just hearing his slimy voice had Spencer cringing. Using his shoulder to hold the phone up to his ear, he let out a soft breath. His hips thrusted into you at a faster speed, your lip tucked between your teeth as you really did try to keep quiet.
“She’s busy but I can take a message.” Spencer answered as if he wasn’t jackhammering you into the mattress right now, whines and moans slipping from your lips as you couldn’t hold them back anymore. “Who is this?” The officer asked, now his annoyance being clear as day. “Spencer!” You gasped out, answering his question without even being aware of it.
“You heard her. Tell the nice man on the phone who has the pleasure of fucking you.” Spencer grunted, making you red in the face as you gripped his upper arms. “You!”
“My name, baby. Tell him who gets to take you home every night.”
“Spencer!” You panted, head tossed back as he was pounding into your sweet spot.
“Now. If you’ll excuse me, I have important matters to attend to. I hope you get the hint.” He murmured.
3K notes
·
View notes
LOTUS FLOWER. pt one.
— featuring ┊ genshin men (neuvillette, wriothesley, lyney, kaveh, alhaitham) x f!pregnant reader
— warnings / content warnings ┊nsfw. not proofread. all consensual! mentions of breeding k!nk, t!tplay (neuvillette), vaginal fingering (lyney?), implied semi-public s3x (wriothesley), s!ze kink if u squint (alhaitham), dirty talk obvi, them being absolute sweethearts, reader implied 2 be physically smaller than them, cunnilingus (kaveh), nicknames used, overall suggestive content. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
— a/n ┊ this is part one guys!! part two will come soon! since i’m a little late for kinktober (oops) i’ve decided to try n do this thingy of my own </3 genshin men w a pregnant partner n maybe i’ll do separate oneshots too throughout the month if im not busy enough, i’ll try my best! i also took time 2 try n improve my writing style n i think it paid off.. anyways reblogs + feedback appreciated ! (guys i wroye this when i’m half asleep #help)
𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄, 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄
— "love, you're too cute when you pout like that," neuvillette chuckled, lightly pecking your cheeks with soft chaste kisses
NEUVILLETTE has always been your caretaker during your hard months of pregnancy, he was always there to aid you even if he had such a tight schedule! trust me, he’s always there to aid you no matter where he is.. oh you’re craving something? he already had it made and prepared downstairs for you to eat, oh you’re in pain? he’s already massaging your body to calm your nerves, oh you want him to get something for you? he’s already making his way downstairs to get it! let’s all be honest, this dragon is one of the sweetest darlings ever.. he’s just so thrilled that you’re carrying his little dragonlings, he couldn’t be happier! neuvillette’s so gentle with you.. even during intimate moments. neuvillette always has you laying down on a soft surface, his lips dancing across your flesh as his hair tickled your sensitive skin, he knows how to make sure you feel good.. sometimes he gets too lost in the moment he doesn’t even notice the littlest things! trust me, he knows how to make you feel good, he knows how to calm your hormones.. he knows how to pleasure you. neuvillette knows it all.
here you were, laid down comfortably on the mattress.. the sheets beneath you warming you up as you tugged on your husband’s white locks, emitting a soft grunt from him. neuvillette had been too caught up in the moment to notice only a little milk dripping from your other breast. instead, he kissed and sucked at your other one passionately, his hands caressing your waist in between bouts of fondling your tits. the sight of your exposed body sent a deep and primal wave of lust through him, it was enough to send him into pure euphoria as the feeling of your body against him was a kiss from the heavens above and the archons themselves. “my sweet angel," neuvillette whispered gently, his voice soft yet full of passion. "i want to love you from head to toe, i want every part of you to scream my name in delight.. i want you to experience pleasure beyond your wildest imagination. please, let me give you more litters of dragonlings inside this irresistible body of yours..”
𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘, 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄
— “you’re positive, right? you sure you’re alright?” he mumbled, nuzzling his nose against your neck
WRIOTHESLEY honestly never thought of having kids himself, but that all changed when you announced your pregnancy to him a few months prior.. he was thrilled! a little shocked and nervous to say the least, since he was nervous he wouldn’t be a good husband and father to your future kids but it went by smoothly, wriothesley had a major soft spot for you and only you. his face always fills with love and joy as he took note of your swollen and pregnant belly, sometimes he lets you wander around the fortress but sometimes he knows you’re sensitive to many smells and all that so he just keeps you in the house. but yet sometimes.. he has too much on his hands that he never has time to come home. visiting him at work became a frequent thing but he grew more protective of you, telling w few workers down at the fortress to scram if they bother you too much. wriothesley loves having you around his office, but yet, huh.. who knew visiting him here could also have it’s benefits.
wriothesley held your knees, his large hands engulfing your flesh as he grunted at the mere pulse of your pussy around his cock. he knew he shouldn’t be doing this, someone could walk in any moment but who was he to deny his own wife? he can’t deny you when you’re all shy and embarrassed like that.. asking him to fuck you and breed you just like he did those few months before, who was he to deny a request like that? the larger male had kept a slow and steady rhythm with you, he promised himself he wouldn’t listen to your begging.. begging for him to go faster. but i guess it’s fine to break promises every now and then, right? wriothesley picked up the pace as he rubbed his thumb against your clit, the feeling of his cock pounding deep inside your cunt was enough to send you to the moon. “fuck.. taking me so well, princess.. ‘gonna make me cum quicker than normal.” he whispered against your ear, caressing your belly ever so gently.. his gentleness corresponding with his harsh thrusts. “what, hm? you want someone to see you in this state? ‘want someone to catch me breeding my pretty pregnant wife in my office?— mm.. seems like y’do.. look at how much you’re sucking me in.”
𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐄𝐘, 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄
— “oh? someone’s moody today.. did i do something wrong, sweetheart? you know i didn’t mean it, c’mon! talk to me.”
LYNEY was one of the main reasons for your constant smiles and giggles throughout the day, your baby isn’t even born yet and he’s already an excellent father! the magician always sits down and chats with you, chatting about all sorts of things. what you both can name your baby(s), what magic tricks he can teach to them, how adorable they’ll look in clothes he bought for them.. he’s excited to be a father and he makes that clear! he spreads the news to lynette and freminet, and sometimes he might accidentally spread the news throughout public eyes. i mean, in a positive way! lyney takes great pride in being the father of your kids, he wants you to stay healthy and happy so your pregnancy goes smoothly, that’s all he wants. lyney’s touch is always so gentle.. caressing you like you were a mere piece of glass he had to protect.. there was something about his touch that just never fails to make you squirm, he’s good with his hands, of course you know that.. he’s just so gentle with you in many ways possible, it drives you absolutely insane sometimes.
“yeah? you like that? hmm.. how about you show me where else you would like me to touch you, go on.” his voice was just as hypnotic as his gaze.. lyney’s lips pressed against your neck as he waited for you to show him. “c’mon, you can do this.” he urged you on, you could feel your hands moving on their own as your hands made their way to your breasts, pinching your sensitive nipples in between your fingers with your mouth hung open in pure ecstasy, sending nothing but deep electric vibrations throughout your body. “l—lyney.. here. i want you to touch me here.” your voice was laced with honey, the magician could’ve sworn he could taste and sense the need and want in your tone, it only made him desire you more. “mm.. we both know that’s not all, sweetheart. show me another, and show me how you want me to touch you there.” your other hand came down slowly, lazily playing with your clit as your body shook at the even the softest touch. lyney hummed against your ear as he pressed his finger gently against your lips, trying to silence you as he gazed down at your swollen belly the blonde magician held you close, pumping two fingers inside your hole, smirking against your skin. “there, there.. good girl. such a good girl for me, are you?”
𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇, 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓
— “alright.. i have this, this and this for you. do you need anything else? still hungry?”
KAVEH is a a good and caring husband.. though sometimes he’s a little too busy, which often frustrates you since he isn’t there to support and be by your side half of the time. honestly, you can’t blame him sometimes, he always comes home late with a shit ton of papers and piles and piles of sketches and drawings he made that day, kaveh’s always busy, you can’t stop or deny that. most of the time, he makes up to you by providing you with the things you like.. like food you’ve been craving! kaveh adores talking to his baby within your belly, always talking about how ‘papa is always there for them’ and how much he loves them. to put it in a more easier way, the young architect considers your pregnancy an absolute blessing, you were sure he kissed the floor and thanked every star in the universe when he found out you were expecting his little one, he was overjoyed! despite his busy tasks, kaveh will be willing to provide you with anything you want. especially pleasure.
“you want me to please you here?” his voice rung in your ears, nodding slowly as you bit your lip. you missed this, you missed him. kaveh had too many rough and difficult schedules already, you missed him and his touch.. you missed everything, but tonight he was gonna give it all. your lashes slowly fluttered open as your hands tightened your grip on his shoulder, kaveh smiled softly, his eyes looking deep into yours with affection. "i’m giving you what you want now, sweet angel.” the architect caressed your thighs as he slowly lifted your dress up and started to caress your stomach. "you’ve certainly become quite attractive with your pregnancy bumps," he whispered softly, smiling warmly before he allowed his urges take over, closing his eyes as his tongue mingled with your folds, giving small kitty licks before pushing himself further into you, savouring your juices. he was slow, yes.. but he wanted to get used to your taste again, flicking his muscle against your sensitive bundles of nerves as he allowed himself to get lost in your taste, palming the bulge through his pants. “let go, lovely. let me claim you once more.”
𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌, 𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐄
— “tell me, go on. what do you need? i’m in all ears.”
AL-HAITHAM is a hard individual to read, that’s for sure. sometimes you couldn’t really tell if he was happy about some story you decided to share with him and whatnot, but one thing you do know is that he’s absolutely thrilled about your pregnancy. alhaitham would be lying to himself if he said that the sight of your expanded belly didn’t awaken something in him. he’s always there, helping you around despite how busy he gets sometimes.. he’s calm and collected, sometimes you’d catch him talking to your baby when you’re asleep, talking about how pretty their mama is, and how excited he is to teach them about his own knowledge about this world they’re about to enter, he’s excited for his baby to be born and you know it. well.. maybe a little too exited.
he tried to be gentle, he really did. but you know he can’t resist you when you’re whining and whimpering like this, especially with that beautiful round belly of yours. alhaitham can’t help himself, really. he was needy, needy for you. he needed you and he needed you now. the scribe bit his lip as his large hands grabbed at your hips, lifting you further against him as his cock slid into your cunt so perfectly. alhaitham’s thoughts went blank at the sound of you calling his name in that way, as if you were speaking words of pure music. “mmh.. look at you. look at how good you’re taking me, even when you’re pregnant you’re still a slut for my cock now, aren’t you?” his hair fell onto his shoulders in wet clumps, “so fuckin’ full, so damn soft. you’re all round and smooth, the perfect body to bear our children." his dick buried myself into your walls, your juices coating it with white, “just like all my other possessions, this body is mine. maybe i should even put my name on it.. so damn perfect, yeah?”
6K notes
·
View notes