#i have nothing against blurb writers at all

[astrophileous]

HI! i love your works and writing so much!! 🩷can i make a request for spencer x fem!reader, where spencer sees reader play with children (whether it be henry or a different child) and gets turned on? later, smut with a breeding kink?🩷 FEEL FREE TO IGNORE IF YOU DONT WANT TO DO IT🫶

OKAY BUT A DISCLAIMER FIRST: smut is so fucking hard to write ISTG!!!! It took me far too long a time to finish this and now I might have just acquired a newfound level of respect for any fic writers out there who regularly whip out smut in every fic. With that said, I hope you bear with me bcs I'm new and generally inexperienced in writing smut, so I hope this is to your liking 😭😭😭 ty for the request and waiting so patiently!! ❤️

Warning(s): fem!reader, 18+ smut content minors dni, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), breeding kink, praise kink (?), talks of impregnation, profanities, this is just porn without plot tbh

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"What's going on with you?" you asked as soon as the front door was shut behind your back.

Spencer turned around at your question. "What? Nothing's going on with me."

"Don't lie, Spencer. You've been awfully quiet since we left JJ's house." Your statement drove Spencer to tear his gaze away, but before he could take another step, you had seemingly transported right in front of him. "Talk to me. What's going on? Did something happen?"

"Nothing happened, sweetheart. Just forget it, okay?"

"No, I wanna know. Tell me."

Spencer's jaw clenched at your display of persistence. You didn't miss the way his eyes turned a few shades darker as he pinned you with his relentless stare.

"You really wanna know?" Spencer murmured.

Before you could give him a verbal answer, your fiancé suddenly pushed himself forward, trapping your body with his as your back collided against the wall. You gasped at his proximity. The atmosphere quickly shifted as you felt Spencer trailing his nose against the length of your neck.

"You wanna know what's going on? The truth is, I've been going insane," Spencer admitted against your ear. "You're driving me insane."

"Spencer, what are you talking about?"

Against what you thought was possible, Spencer propelled himself further into you, to the point where the air you breathed out became the same one he inhaled. Spencer's knee shoved itself between the apex of your thighs, making you gasp from the unexpected friction that his movement caused.

"I watched you back at JJ's. The way you acted around Henry? I can't stop thinking about it, sweetheart. It's driving me crazy."

"What?" An involuntary gasp slipped past your lips when Spencer's teeth lightly grazed your pulse point. "What are you—"

"I want us to have a baby."

The shock you felt was undoubtedly written all over your face. Spencer pulled back just the tiniest bit so he could stare right into your eyes. The gentleness in his pupils contradicted the desperation found in all of the ministrastions he pulled so far.

"I know when we talked about it in the past, it always seemed like such a distant thing. But after seeing you today—how you doted on Henry? I can't help it, sweetheart." Spencer's fingers strayed towards your cheek, tracing an invisible line until his touch met your jaw. "I want to have a family with you, and I want it to happen sooner rather than later. You own my forever, angel. There's no doubt in my mind that you'll become as amazing a mother just as you are a person."

The admission rendered you speechless. Time arrived into a screeching halt where it stayed there for seemingly thousands of years. Spencer was assessing you with worry in the consequent silence, trying to solve the cipher in your countenance that could give him a clue to what you were thinking.

Just as he was about to call out your name, you lunged forward out of the blue, claiming his lips in an earth-shattering kiss.

The two of you molded into one another like a pair of fitted puzzle pieces. Fire was raging inside your chest when you pulled away, first telltale signs of arousal stirring in the pit of your stomach.

"I wanna have a baby with you, Spencer. Please, I love you so much."

Spencer groaned wholeheartedly at the confession before diving back to kiss you even more fervently than before. Amidst the roaming hands and pleasurable gasps, the two of you somehow managed to stumble into the bedroom you had shared together for the past couple of years. Shed clothes littered the entire path you trudged, and in the blink of an eye, you found yourself naked on the bed with Spencer hovering above you clad in only his boxers.

"You're so beautiful," Spencer mused before taking one of your nipples in his explorative mouth. You writhed in pleasure while his fingers toyed with your other breast, making sure that no inch of your beauty escaped his attention. "Can't wait to see these full of milk, sweetheart. You'd look so beautiful pregnant with my baby."

You could only mewl when Spencer's lips trailed further southward, peppering kisses beneath your navel, just a sliver to where you needed him the most.

"Spencer, please. Ah. Don't tease."

Your fiancé chuckled at the desperation he heard in your voice. If it were any other day, he would have taken the time to edge you even further for the next few hours. But Spencer could feel his boxers getting tighter by the minute, and not wanting to prolong it any further, he slid downward until he was met with the view of your glistening folds.

"Fuck. So wet and gorgeous. Wish you could see how pretty you look, angel."

The moment Spencer's mouth touched your most sensitive part, you were gone for. His tongue lapped your juices like he was a man lost in a dessert while you were his oasis. The moans fled your throat when his lips wrapped around your taut clit, sucking and circling it with his tongue until you thrashed around uncontrollably. He then used his left forearm to pin your torso down, while his other hand started prodding the entrance to your heat.

"Oh my god, Spencer—mmphh," you whined when two of Spencer's fingers were snugly sheathed inside of you, going in and out until the whole room was overpowered by the obscene sound of your squelching wetness.

"You're so wet, angel. Holy shit," Spencer marveled as he fixated onto the movements of his fingers inside of you, the digits shining from your arousal that coated them. "So warm and tight, too. This all for me?"

"For you, Spencer, only for—oh, only for you. Feels so, mmhh, so good."

Spencer knew you were getting close from how tightly your walls were gripping his fingers, along with the way you were grinding your hips against his hand as if trying to amplify the pleasure you were reeling from. But right before the coil in your belly snapped, Spencer promptly removed his hand from your heat, making you whimpered in protest from the loss of contact.

"Patience, angel," Spencer said, leaning down to give you a quick kiss. "I want to be inside you and feel you around me as you cum."

He made quick work in removing his boxers, revealing his erection that was already red and leaking pre-cum on the tip. Spencer hissed when he gave himself a few lazy tugs, aware of your burning stare as you watched him with a raging want.

"Ready, sweetheart?" Spencer asked, waiting for your nod before sliding his tip in. You moaned into his neck until the entire length of his cock was snugged inside, clutching Spencer for dear life as the man cursed against your cheek. "You feel so good around me. Fuck. You alright, angel?"

You could only nod meekly in response. "Need you to move, Spence. Please, move."

Spencer didn't need to be told twice. He drew his hips back until the only thing engulfed by your pulsating walls was his tip, before ramming back into you with enough force to knock the breath out of your lungs.

In no time at all, your fiancé was moving in and out of you vigorously. The lewd sound of skin against skin echoed within the four walls of your bedroom, fueling your desire until your whole being was consumed by everything Spencer. You swore you could almost feel every ridge and vein of Spencer's cock as it slid in and out of your weeping hole, but your hazy brain would argue that it was plainly your lust talking.

"Spencer." His name came out as a gasp as you felt the imminent climax rising higher and higher. "I'm so—ah, s-so close. Please, please, please, I need to—"

"I know, sweetheart. I know you are. Can feel you squeezing around me. Shit. Milking me so good, hm? Gonna milk me, angel? Gonna milk my cock dry?"

You couldn't think of any other reply to Spencer's crude words except to moan even louder.

"I'm close, too, sweetheart. Fuck. I love being inside you like this. 'M gonna cum so much, gonna have my seed so deep inside you until your womb is filled to the brim."

Your walls fluttered at the thought of being full of Spencer's cum, and this little knowledge didn't evade your fiancé's notice as he picked up the pace of his thrusts.

"You like that, huh? Like the thought of my cum in your womb? Can't wait until you're all big and round, sweetheart. You're gonna make such a beautiful mommy."

"Wanna be a mommy, Spencer, I wanna have your baby!"

"Yeah? You want that? Wanna be pregnant with my baby and make me a daddy? Have a part of me inside of you, huh? Shit. Can picture it now, sweetheart. You'll look so gorgeous pregnant. Most beautiful mommy in the world."

Spencer's hips stuttered slightly. The mental image of you pregnant and barefoot, walking around your shared home carrying his child was doing abominable things to every neuron in his brain. That thought alone, along with the way your pussy was getting tighter around him by the second, was inevitably going to push him over the edge.

Without ever abating his pace, Spencer's fingers reached down towards your clit and started rubbing as if there was no tomorrow. You let out a scream at the added sense of pleasure that Spencer's fingers sent to your belly.

"That's it, angel. Just let it go for me. Let go and I'll give you every drop of my cum."

Another powerful thrust, coupled with a delicious stimulation to your bundle of nerves, had you cumming around Spencer's cock like you had never been before. It was one of the most intense orgasms of your life, and you couldn't do anything but wail and moan as Spencer continued to move inside you through it all.

Mere seconds later, Spencer's own undoing crashed into him like a truck. You felt his cock throb before warmth flooded in, spurts of cum painting every inch of your walls until Spencer was sure there was nothing else to empty. He collapsed on top of you as soon as he was done pulling out, panting breaths and a satiated smile as he buried his face in the column of your neck.

"So—" you began once your breathing had evened out, "—we're doing this, huh?"

Spencer looked up at your face. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"No. Definitely not. There's no one I'd rather do this with more than you, Spencer." You smiled, tucking a strand of your fiancé's overgrown curly hair behind his ear. "Although, I do have to say, I didn't expect you to be that type of guy."

"What type of guy?"

"The kind who gets territorial and borderline obsessed with the thought of impregnating their woman."

Your statement caused Spencer to laugh, crinkling eyes and head thrown back in a way that made your heart fall a little deeper for the man. You closed your eyes and sighed when his hand rose to cup your cheek.

"Can't help it, sweetheart. Any guy would be driven wild to have you as the mother of their child. I'm the luckiest guy in the world."

Spencer's proclamation was sealed with a kiss to your lips. It started out innocent enough before escalating in desperation with every minute that ticked by. Spencer swallowed all of your whimpers even when his hand started to meander downward, all the way past your abdomen, and right under your navel where your arousal was beginning to awaken once again.

At the first swipe of thumb on your clit, you gasped against his lips.

"Spence, what are you—"

"Sshh, we're far from finished, sweetheart. Didn't think I'd be done with you so quickly, did you?" Spencer smirked. "I'm gonna keep fucking you through the night, however long it takes, and fill you with loads after loads of my cum to make sure you are pregnant once this is all over. Now, you just lie back, angel. 'M gonna make you feel so fucking good."

[loveshotzz]

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap ten/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs -

Baby, I’m Yours

summary: A sleepless night brings you back to where it all began.

wc: 8k

warnings: 18+ for the softest of smut.

author’s note: I know we still have the epilogue but I can’t believe we’re actually here at the end of their story. Thank you to all of you that spent your summer reading about Steve and his Tough Girl, this has been such a journey for me as a writer with a lot of challenges but I’m so thankful I did it. Truly writing about these two and talking about it with you guys was the highlight of my summer. From the bottom of my heart, thank you 🧡

🌇 <- chapter nine

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

Beginning of August

Steve had been gone for a week and a half and it felt more like a lifetime to you, but it wasn’t for the lack of communication. If Steve wasn’t calling you he was texting you, sending you pictures of his lunch no matter how lame you told him it was. By day three you were sending him a picture of your own with a loud sigh and a roll of your eyes. His enthusiastic response of ‘That looks good baby!!’  had made you squirm in your seat with hot cheeks huffing the word “pathetic” to yourself, but that didn’t stop you from doing it again the next day. 

It was FaceTime calls of Peach telling Steve to turn the camera around, always too busy looking at you and telling you how pretty you are to notice his was pointed towards a wall. Or the one time it was pointed at Eddie who sat in front of him making a suggestive ‘cumming’ face to tease him, the camera flipped immediately when he heard you giggle. Steve scolded his cackling friend with an ‘honestly, I hate you’ before taking you to another room, apologizing profusely with blush visible on his cheeks.

It was the small bits of time in between text messages and phone calls that made it drag. The quiet evenings without Bandit’s excited bark from the front yard, the low simmer that’s always in your gut from the possibility of running into him any time you come and go, is gone with the man and his dog. It’s just enough time for seeds of doubt to creep in. The newness, the anxiety of it all.

The bright red numbers on the clock above your stove read 2:13am - three days until Steve gets home and tonight you can’t sleep. Quietly thanking whatever gods there are for your day off tomorrow, well - today. 

Your apartment smells like Clorox, lavender, and lemon. The wood floors sparkling just like your kitchen countertops. Cleaning everything you could touch has kept you busy, but it doesn’t make you any more tired than when you’d started. Your intrusive thoughts and daydreams are going a mile a minute:you didn’t get your usual good night call from him. The rational side of you knows that one missed phone call doesn’t mean anything, but the irrational side decided you don’t  need to rest.

The full trash bag next to your front door taunts you, just like the promise you made Steve about taking it out late at night months ago. The fact that it’s the last thing left to do makes it that much harder to walk away from. Gnawing at the side of your cheek you decide not to, he’s not even home to catch you.

The moon’s blue glow illuminates your path while the skyline of the city sparkles below it. The tall buildings shimmer in a way that takes attention from the stars in the cloudless night sky. You can feel how the humidity hangs less thick in the air the more August rolls in. The thin material of your tank top does nothing against the light breeze that makes the bottom of your sleep shorts tickle the tops of your thighs. There’s a chill that didn’t exist before and it makes goosebumps dot across your skin.

Your slides scrape along the gravel from your refusal to fully pick your feet up, and it fights with the sounds of the late Friday night in the distance. You hum a made up tune as the streetlight buzzes above, lifting the lid you jump when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. 

“I thought I told you not to take your trash out in the middle of the night, especially alone, tough girl.” Steve’s voice erupts everything that’s laid dormant inside of you for the past week. Butterflies start to flutter until they’re fighting against your rib cage to get out and your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling before you’ve even turned around.

“Well,” You sigh, dropping your bag in the trash can, “the guy I was supposed to call if I needed anything ditched me for his out of state boyfriend.” Shrugging when you finally let yourself look at him, the view rivals the one that shines bright behind him.

His hair is messy in a way that isn’t purposeful this time, but he looks just as handsome as any other day. The stubble on his jaw is thicker, but not quite like the night he waited at your doorstep, and god, do you want to feel it against your skin. His big arms sit crossed over a broad chest that’s only covered in a gray tank top. The thick patch of hair always half way on display threatens to touch the base of his neck, the bottom of his silver chain disappearing inside of it. 

His freckles are darker now, easier to find from all the sun he got while he was gone and you’re jealous of the hands that got to rub sunscreen on them, even if they were his own. The black basketball shorts on his legs stop in the middle of his thighs, it makes you bite at your lip.The greens and golds in his eyes light a match under your skin with the way he stares at you  — like he couldn’t possibly look away even if he tried.

“My out of state boyfriend huh?” He grins, tightening his hold on his own bag before his Nike slide covered feet crunch against the gravel towards you. His eyes catch the dainty silver still hanging around your neck, the stone shining in the moonlight, and it makes his heart swell. Tossing his trash in after yours, he meets your gaze down the slope of his nose, arching a brow. “What does that make you then?”

He smells like bergamot and cedar, a lingering hint of the cigar he probably smoked in New York still clinging to his hair. The heat coming off his body makes your fingertips buzz, twitching with the need to reach out and just touch him. 

“I dunno, what does that make me, Steve?” It comes out shy, a little above a whisper, a question just for him.

He hums, a low sound that vibrates from deep in his chest while his fingers come up to toy with the stone that dangles just above the dip of your breasts. The tips of them tickling rough against your soft skin. 

“What do you want?” His confident demeanor falters when he asks just as quiet, all the miles and days without seeing each other are affecting him too. He doesn’t tell you that’s part of the reason he booked an early flight home on your day off. 

“I want you.” You don’t hesitate when you say it, no pauses for even a second to think of what you want to say. Your hand comes up to wrap around his wrist, the muscles under your palm dance from your simple touch. He wonders if you can feel his pulse.

“You already have me.” He almost wants to laugh until he still sees the same shared doubt  in your eyes. “Haven’t I made that obvious?”

He tugs at your necklace as a reminder, a smile breaking across your face because of it and all he wants to do is kiss you now. Especially when he drops the stone to grab your hand, and after taking just a few steps, you reach up to touch it again — a silent, constant reminder of his confession as you walk towards the wooden gates.

“Wait, why didn’t you tell me you were coming back early?” You pout a little, looking up at him when he stops you both at your backyard. 

“I landed a few hours ago,” He chuckles, his hands finding your hips to pull you to his chest, in love with the way you stand on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck like it’s natural, like it’s second nature to want him close. “I was actually going to surprise you in the morning with breakfast after I picked up Bandit from Nance’s.” 

“Oh yeah?” You grin at the thought of Steve showing up at your front door, that messy head of hair shoved into a baseball cap.

He nudges his nose against yours, the spearmint of his toothpaste fanning cool across your cheeks while your fingers curl into the soft hair at the base of his neck. Tilting your chin so your lips just barely touch, you silently beg him to close the gap. 

“Yeah,” He breathes, hazel eyes clocking the way your lashes flutter against the top of your cheeks. He almost feels bad for teasing, especially when you give his hair a gentle, coaxing tug. “But someone wanted to risk their lives for the sake of taking out the trash. So, surprise, pretty girl, I’m home.” 

His words make your breath catch, and you want to tell him he feels like home more than your real one ever did. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest when his top lip whispers against your still slightly pouted bottom one. You tug at his roots a little harder this time, needier, and you swear a whine tightens at the back of your throat threatening to come out if he doesn’t give you what you want. Please, kiss me.

“Well, good thing you were here to save me.” You giggle against his mouth, and it makes his hands squeeze at your sides a little tighter, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. The tip of your nose pushes against the rough stubble on his cheek, “Besides, I missed you, I wouldn’t have wanted to wait ‘til the morning.”

“God, honey. You have no idea how much I missed you.” His face crumples a little at the thought, almost like he forgot for a second you were right in front of him, but when you somehow pull yourself closer, he doesn’t waste anymore time.

The wood is rough when your back hits the gate at the same time his lips finally crash into yours. A week of longing comes out with a sigh. The metal hinges and lock clank loudly together while he steals the breath from your lungs. He coaxes your mouth open with a swipe from his impatient tongue, groaning when you grant him access. You taste just as sweet as he remembers, and he promises himself he’ll never go a day without it again — not if he can help it.  

Your hands get greedy in his hair, bigger handfuls, harsher tugs while your body stays flush against his as he keeps you pinned to the door. It’s all tongue and teeth for a minute, both of you losing yourselves in it for longer than you should. It’s not until a car honks, signaling to any bikers around that it’s popping out of the alley, breaking you two apart. 

Chest heaving and lips swollen, all you want is more.

He laughs to himself pressing his forehead against yours with the kind of smile that makes your knees weak. The tip of his nose touches yours; he’s all wild hair and love sick eyes. You don’t want to be without him tonight. Or ever.

“Come sleepover?”

The question comes out before you can stop it, before you can really register what that invitation might mean for both of you. His eyes widen before they search your face for any kind of regret, his tongue wetting his lips when he doesn’t find it. You twist strands of his honey hair between your fingers, nervously waiting for his response. 

“We - we don’t have to do anything. I just wanna be with you.” You finally whisper, your nerves getting the best of you. He can’t believe you think he’d actually say no.

“Let me shower and get the airport off of me, and then I’d love nothing more than to spend the rest of the night with you baby.” He steals another kiss from your smiling lips, letting you take another one for yourself, groaning at the nip of your teeth on his bottom lip before he finally lets you go. 

Opening the gate for you, he grabs your wrist pulling you back for one more, relishing in the giggle it earns him before he whispers that he’ll be back in fifteen minutes.

It feels like your heart is trying to escape through your chest as you try not to check the time on your phone. Strategically placed candles are the only light in your living room and kitchen, while a dimmed bedside lamp in your room gleams a dark orange with your wax melter. It feels like your apartment is glowing, but it does nothing to relax the nerves that course through your veins as you pace the small space of your room trying to shake them before his inevitable arrival.

Knock, knock, knock

They are quieter than his normal ones, but they make you jump just the same. You shake your hands out, taking a deep breath before you pad barefoot to your front door. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth to try and contain the smile that always grows the first time you lay your eyes on him and his lopsided grin.

“Hey baby.” He greets you in the kind of voice that makes the dough of your thighs press.

His damp hair is pushed back, from what looks like a few quick hands in the mirror. A simple white shirt replaces the tank top from before, fitting loosely across his shoulders, and a soft looking pair of gray cotton shorts cover the tops of his thighs this time. He’s wearing a tan pair of moccasin slippers on his feet that you’ve never seen, and for some reason his exposed ankles make the heat rise to your cheeks while the fresh scent of his pine body wash threatens to take over your senses.

“Hi handsome.” It’s dripping in sugar the way you say it, sweet off your tongue just for him as you open the door wider.

He thinks your apartment smells like peaches and the ocean when you close it behind him. It smells just like you and he feels surrounded by it, intoxicated with it, the way he always wants to be. You watch him take in your apartment like he missed it too, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth when he notices you just cleaned it. He bites back his remark when his eyes meet yours, he can’t bring himself to say it when you’re staring at him from under your lashes with your back pressed to the door all shy like that.

“Don’t be shy, honey,” he extends a big hand out for you to take with soft eyes, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” copying your line from outside, he wiggles his fingers a little with a smile warmer than the glow of the candles that dance shadows across his sharp jaw and cheek bones, “I just wanna lay with you.”

You don’t hesitate to slip your palm into his, your heart racing when you watch his fingers wrap around you with ease. He pulls you into him, colliding in a mix of  forest and the beach. He keeps a hold of your hand, cupping your cheek with his other one. The pad of his thumb traces over the heated skin, paying extra attention to the soft bag under your eye. You needed sleep.

“Just me and you, that’s all I want, okay?” He reassures you in a voice lower than a whisper. His heart swells when you nod with big glassy eyes, your hand coming to rest on the top of his so you can lean deeper into his touch.Steve’s hazel eyes look to yours, he tilts his head a little bit closer in a silent ask for permission, you push up on your tiptoes to meet him halfway.

He kisses you differently than how he did in the alley, differently than the Fourth of July and the baseball game. He’s gentle, like he’s taking his time with you because he actually has it now, like he’s sure of it. He doesn’t try to deepen it even when they move together like this is what they were always meant to be doing, not even when your top lip catches a little dirty with his bottom. He wants to remember this moment, commit it to memory so that he never forgets what this feels like with you. He kisses you like this until the need for oxygen becomes too much and your feet start to hurt from standing in place for too long.

“Let’s go lay down.” You whisper between bated breaths that mingle with his, your chests heave as he gives you the kind of toothy grin that makes the butterflies wake up again, nodding with a squeeze of your hand.

The hum of A/C and the sounds of your breathing are the only things that can be heard in the low light of your room. Steve’s body lays pressed on top of yours, making himself comfortable between your legs. His head rests on your sternum with a cheek against the soft curve of your tummy. His big hands hold tight to your sides, caging you in – it feels like he’s everywhere and you wouldn’t have it any other way. The weight of him relaxes you into the feathers of your pillows.

Your fingers keep themselves busy buried deep in the thickness of his hair. Still a little damp at the roots, you massage the part of his scalp you know was resting on the hard cushion of the airplane seat, earning you a deep groan that vibrates between your legs. He feels the way they try to close because of it, the sharp intake of breath that you try to hide.

He’d be lying if he said his own body wasn’t reacting being this close to you, especially when the pads of his thumbs caress under the swell of your breasts and there’s no wire of a bra to be found. His eyes roll back as the blunt ends of your nails start to scratch lightly near the nape of his neck, making his fingers squeeze you at the sensation. His face nuzzles deeper into the softness of your stomach, inhaling. You feel the prickle of his stubble through the thin material of your tank top and it makes you giggle. 

Steve doesn’t know how he lasted as long as he did this past week without you. 

He pushes the bottom of your tank top up and tries not to stare at the supple skin exposed to him before blowing a raspberry. It earns an even louder giggle, making your legs bend at the knees, trapping him in between your thighs.

“Steve!” You sound annoyed but the smile on your face gives you away when you go to cover your eyes with the back of your hand. 

“What baby?” He smirks against your skin and feels the way it makes you squirm with a subtle roll of your hips, he’s not even sure you noticed that you did it.

“No…”Your voice trails off when he pushes your shirt up a little higher, his lips getting bolder, addicted to the way you heat up for him with every soft kiss, “No raspberries.” You finally manage, making him chuckle. But that doesn’t stop him continuing on his path.

“I promise I’ll be nice, m’sorry” He mumbles an apology against your skin, basking in the goosebumps it earns him.

He sits back on his knees, thumbs hooking into the bottom of your tank. His eyes meet yours from underneath his lashes and he wishes he could take a picture of the way you look right now.

“Is this okay?” He asks just to make sure, and the nod of your head with heavy lids is enough for him to press a wet kiss on your sternum before pulling the rest of the offending fabric off, throwing it somewhere on your floor. 

Steve forgets how to breathe the moment his eyes land on you, soft curves just begging for his touch. He can’t help himself when he runs his palms up your sides making your nipples pebble when the pads of his thumbs meet the bottom swell of your breasts. You wonder if he can feel the wings under your rib cage.

“God - honey,” Steve’s words get lost on his tongue when you stare up at him with eyes blown out like his, it makes him run a hand down his face like he can’t believe you’re real. “I’m lucky to just be lookin’ at you.”

His praise makes a shy smile push up your cheeks, his own teeth shining in a grin because of it.

“I wanna look at you too.” You whine a little, reaching down between your legs to tug at the cotton of his shirt with a pout.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, bending back down to hover over you. His nose nudges against your cheek before his lips brush yours, smirking when you nod a little desperate against his mouth.

The kiss he gives you lingers, lighting a fire inside of you, the kind that burns at your fingertips, consuming you like it’s wild and it makes you realize it’s never going to be enough. You’re never going to get enough of the man who looks at you like you hung the stars in his sky, like you were the sun that broke through the rain clouds that followed him around. 

His fingers curl at the hem of his shirt, and it feels like he’s moving in slow motion when he pulls it over his head, adding it to the already growing pile on the floor. His muscles twitch under your gaze, his own nerves finally catching up to him when he realizes just how long it’s been since he’s been with someone like this. Pink dusts his cheeks but he doesn’t look away, not when he sees the way your eyes glaze over at the sight. The dark thatch of hair in the middle of his chest looks soft to the touch from his late night shower and it makes your fingers twitch to touch him. 

The silver of his chain gleams like yours in the moonlight that leaks through your curtains and it makes his skin look like it glows. You give in, running your fingertips through the thick happy trail that’s surrounded by another collection of freckles and moles that you feel the need to kiss and you catch the shudder that runs through him because of it.

“You’re so handsome, Steve.” It comes out a little breathless, and it makes the tips of his ears turn pink.

“Thank you, angel.” He tries to hide his bashfulness in a grin and a hand through his hair, bending back down to press a kiss to your collarbone so you don’t see his smile.

He starts a path up your neck, nipping at sensitive skin along the way to your lips, his own butterflies being spurred on by the whimper it earns him. He hovers over you searching your face for any indication to stop but he’s only met with the kind of look in your eyes that almost has him say it.

 ‘I love you’.

He tries to show you by slotting his lips against yours in a hot breath, like a key to its lock. The bed dips on either side of your head when he goes from his palms to his forearms, chest to chest he wonders if you can feel his heart beating just for you tonight.

The feeling of his skin against yours makes every inch of you feel like a livewire, both of you moaning into the kiss like you’ve waited too long for this. Tongues collide messily when he rolls his hips with a purpose. The pointed pressure on your bundle of nerves, has you keening into him. Your hands slide up his chest through the patch of hair you’d been dreaming about for months, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him even closer. Addicted to the way his hard muscles flex against your soft skin.

Box springs squeak when he lets go of all of his weight, it feels like he’s everywhere and it makes your head spin. Your fingers find their way back into the soft hair at the nape of his neck as you fight for dominance with his lips, trying to convey everything you’re feeling right now because words just won’t work.

Pushing your hips up to meet his in a slow grind, the thin material of his shorts does nothing to hide just how big he really is and it makes everything turn sloppy, teeth scraping together with silk between your fingers tugging at his roots a little mean. He smiles when he pulls away to catch his breath, keeping his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes are as black as the night outside that threatens to give away to the sun in just a few hours, they look at you like he can’t believe you’re real, memorizing every detail of your face like you might disappear if he blinks.

“So pretty.” He murmurs before littering kisses down your body, some sweet and some with a nip of his teeth. 

His eyes meet yours in a silent question of ‘is this okay?’, long fingers curling around the elastic band. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth to hide your shy smile. You nod with a little too much excitement making him smirk before pressing a sweet kiss on the top of your hip, running his nose along the soft your tummy doing it again to the other side.

You hold your breath when he pulls them down your thighs, the tips of his fingers gliding down the sides of your legs as he goes, lips tugging up when you squirm a little because of it. A low groan vibrates from his chest when he realizes you aren’t wearing underwear, glistening with your arousal in the dim light. You’re so wet and all he’s done is kiss you. 

“Baby, baby, baby.” He mutters awestruck by the sight.

A little embarrassed at your body’s reaction, his praise makes your legs try to snap shut but he stops you with a gentle hand on the inside of your knee, spreading them again.

“You’re beautiful, please don’t hide from me.” He begs, taking all of you in again. “So, so, so beautiful, honey.”

His fingers wrap around your ankle, pulling your leg up enough for his lips to kiss the soft skin right above the round bone, his nose skims up your calf to press another one, relishing in the giggle he gets as he keeps on his path to what he really wants. You squeal when he nips at the inside of your knee and you can feel his smirk against your goosebumps. 

Once his kisses get to your thigh, he settles between your legs with his chest to the mattress. It’s hard to remember your own name when he looks up at you through his lashes like that. He hooks your knee over his broad shoulder, his lips dragging a little dirty across your heated skin. He can taste the watermelon that still lingers from his favorite lotion. You were going to be the death of him.

He meets your eyes when he gets high enough for your thigh and hip to connect. Close enough to smell how sweet you are worked up just for him. 

“Can I taste you?” He skims his nose up the plush inside of your thigh when he asks, his eyelids growing heavy just basking in being close to you like this. You could say no, and this would be enough for him but the way you’re already dripping on your sheets makes him insatiable. “You want that?”

You want that?

He watches how your eyes glaze over at his question, the intensity of his gaze makes you want to hide, he was so handsome looking up at you like this. Too bashful to actually say yes, you nod again.

“Can you say it for me?” He squeezes your hip, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles to soothe your nerves like his own weren’t boiling under the surface of his confident demeanor like a volcano ready to explode. 

What if he wasn’t good at this anymore?

“Y- yes, I want you to taste me, handsome you can do whatever you want to me.” The breathy giggle that bubbles passed your lips makes him grin lopsided just how you like, a smugness that wasn’t there before smoldering like a fire in his eyes.

“Yeah? Fuck - Honey, I dream about this.” He groans when he pulls himself closer, the tip of his nose running up your slick folds making you shudder, fingers already tangling in your sheets. “You want me to show you how much I missed you?”

He doesn’t tell you that he’s started to always miss you when you aren’t around.

He accepts your nod this time, your teeth threatening to make your bottom lip bleed when he settles your other leg over his shoulder too, nothing holding him back from you anymore. He takes all of you in with a greedy eyes, his pink tongue darling out to lick his lips when he sees just how much you want this too.

Nothing can prepare you for the first swipe of his flattened tongue between your slick folds, the tip of it catching your clit with just enough pressure for the grip on your sheets to tighten. The butterflies in your rib cage feel like they make their escape in the gasp you let out, his low hum of approval making your toes curl when he does it again. 

“So fucking sweet baby, god of course you are.” 

He doesn’t waste anymore time testing the waters, his self doubt gone with his self control when your hips roll up asking for more. Steve knows now he’ll never say no to you and he’s not shy with the way he buries his face in your pussy. His tongue laps up everything you give him, like he’s hungry with his nose pressed to your bundle of nerves with enough pressure to make your back arch. 

“Ohmygod - Steve.” The moan you let out makes his cock twitch, your fingers reaching down to tangle themselves in his hair, shamelessly pulling him closer. You were better than his dreams.

Your thighs snap closed around his ears after he stops the greedy strokes of his tongue in the tightness of your entrance for his lips to wrap your clit. He sucks with the kind of force that makes your eyes hit the back of your head. His eyebrows marry together when he closes his eyes like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. One of hands leaves the dough of your thighs for his thick index finger to take his tongue's place, collecting the slick from between your folds before pushing one knuckle in. 

It makes you gasp a little breathy as your hips push up for more, and he gives it to you, pushing two more knuckles in and you already feel so full. Your walls constrict, fluttering around his single digit like it’s a stretch and he wonders how you’re going to be able to take him. His own hips rut into the mattress in search of some kind of relief while he sets a steady pace between his mouth and his wrist that has you clenching like you’re about to unravel. 

“You close baby? Wanna show me how good it feels?” His question comes out sloppy against your mound, all the color in his eyes is gone meeting yours from between your legs blown wide. When he adds a second finger, it slides in with ease making your eyes hit the back of your head, a low moan bubbling past your lips. Your toes curl with his fingers, jaw going slack with his name in your mouth like a prayer and he’s scared you’re going to make him cum in his pants again. 

“Just like that, fuck - right there - Steve, Steve, Steeeeeve!” The fingers that are tangled in his hair tug rough, your thighs clamping down hard around his head while your body tries to squirm away to run from the intensity of it all, the stubble on his jaw rubbing you raw when he moves his head from side to side drinking in everything you give him.

His hand on your hip locks you in place while you come undone on his tongue and he swears you taste just like sugar when he buries his face in deeper till you whine, pushing on his forehead to stop, overstimulation winning. Heat floods your cheeks when you see the shine from your slick covering the bottom of his lopsided grin when he finally looks up at you.

“So pretty like this,” He mumbles, pressing a kiss to the inside of your shaking thigh. 

You cover your face with your hands, the intensity of your first orgasm and the intimacy of it all overwhelms you, the tightness in your chest threatens to become unbearable. The three words sitting at the tip of your tongue beg to come out from between your lips. 

Not yet.

He trails sticky kisses up your stomach, making sure to pay special attention to the swell of your breasts, pulling them both together in his big hands to give them equal treatment. Shining lips wrap around your sensitive nipples and it's enough for a new wave of arousal to blossom deep inside your belly, a subtle rock of your hips meeting his when he rolls one between his teeth. Insatiable, just like him.

“Steve,” His name comes out around a sigh, your fingers running up his freckled back before tangling themselves in his hair again, addicted to the softness of it.

“Mmm, tell me what you want.” He looks up at you from under thick lashes, lids heavy, and eyes glossy. He’s wrecked.

“You.” The answer is just as simple as it was outside, it's all you’ve ever wanted. You realize that now. The universe bringing you here to this moment with him. This was it.

“Baby,” he looks at you like he means it, like his whole heart is in your hands now and it has been since the day you moved in he just didn’t know it yet, “I’m yours.”

He moves back up your body, leaving wet kisses across sweat slicked skin making sure to suck at the sensitive spot he found just above your collarbone, smiling when you gasp. He’s not expecting to feel your lips against his jaw, bold and sure of themselves by the time they get to the corner of his mouth, dainty fingers pulling his chin down to collect your kiss.

Your lips move like you can finally relax, like you’re home now and he can feel your heartbeat against his chest. This didn’t feel like just sex.

Your hands run down his sides, grinning into his mouth when he chuckles as the tips of your fingers brush against his ribs, you keep that information locked away another time as you hook them in the elastic band of his shorts. His tongue licks a little dirty into your mouth when you start to pull them down his hips, helping you get them to his knees before kicking them off entirely. The length of him feels heavy against your stomach, and it makes you break away from the kiss but his lips stay attached to you.

Your cheek, your jaw, your neck, anywhere he can reach. 

The view makes your breath hitch and get stuck in the back of your throat, walls fluttering around nothing when you see just how big he really is. He’s too busy trying to find new places to make you gasp and all you wanna do is look at him.

“Steve” his name comes out around the gasp he was trying so hard to get by sucking a little bruise behind your ear.

He hums against your skin with his eyes closed, drowning in you. Love drunk off of it. The slow sleepiness from the day creeping in as his body molds to the warmth of you.

“I wanna look at you, too.” Your request is quiet against the rough stubble that fades into his neck, and you feel his Adam’s apple bob against your lips.

“Yeah?”  His voice is hoarse, nose nudging against your jaw when he brings his gaze back to yours, a smile pulls up the apples of his cheeks, crinkling small lines under his eyes.

“Yeah.” You don’t nod this time.

He holds your eyes in his, needing you to know there’s a double meaning in his words when he brings his palm to your cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing the high bone. 

“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

The mattress bounces when Steve flops next to you on his back, the two of you barely fitting on your queen size with his broad shoulders and long legs. He catches the way your eyes grow big when you sit up on your knees and finally get to see all of him. He reaches out for you, sensing your hesitation at his size

“C’mere, baby, we’ll go slow.”

Heat blooms between your legs when you take his hand, your knees finding a home on either side of his hips. He’s thicker than you’d imagined all those nights with your fingers between your thighs. The big vein running up the length of him protrudes like it’s working overtime, while beads of pearly white smear against the rough patch of hair just below his belly button from his light pink tip. Wrapping his hand around the base, he gives himself a pump to relieve some of the ache from seeing you sitting on top of him like this. Soft curves on display in the moonlight, he can’t wait to see them when it breaks daylight.

“Fuck,” He sighs when you settle above him, “you look gorgeous.”

His words make your confidence peak, your hands finding themselves flat against his chest, the blunt ends of your nails drag through the hair there and you spot another cluster of freckles you hadn’t seen before, you wonder if he’ll let you find them all.

“Look who’s talkin’” You tease, making him laugh as you lean up to steal a kiss. The motion has the length of him slide easily between your slick folds, his tip catching your clit before popping out.

“Jesus Christ.” He sighs against your mouth that’s formed in a silent ‘o’,  rolling his back up in search for more.

“Steve - you’re so - “ The last of your sentence is stolen by a gasp when you grind down to meet his thrust, the tip of him prodding your entrance before gliding up with just the right amount of pressure to make you both moan. 

“I’m so what?” He asks a little smug, arms circling the curve of your waist to pull you closer, dragging you over the length of him again, it makes you shudder in his grasp. 

He catches against where you beg for more of him, fluttering around the tip, your walls try to suck him in. A low growl rumbles from his chest when he tries to fit a little more. It’s your hips that roll, and it's just enough for him to push all the way in with a little resistance.

“Goddd,” You whine, feeling the fullest you’ve ever been, your walls stinging, desperately trying to accommodate his size. A low huff exhales through your nose when you sit up straight, letting your nails drag over the beauty marks that litter his stomach before finishing your sentence, “so big.” 

“Yeah, but look at you takin’ it.” He groans with pinched brows, eyes transfixed on where he disappears inside of you. Arousal coating the thick thatch of hair that frames him, wetting his lips as he watches the way you grind your clit against it letting him fill you to the hilt. “So good for me baby, so beautiful, - fuck! - so gorgeous.”

His praise has you clenching around him, your mouth falling open when you feel him twitch because of it. His big hands find the tops of your thighs, the pads of his fingers leaving fires in their wake while making their way to your hips. He squeezes softly when he gets there, guiding your lazy thrusts before searching for your hands. 

You watch him intertwine your fingers with curious eyes, his gaze transfixed on yours as he holds them at your sides, rolling his hips up to push even deeper.

“Oh god,” He does it again only this time if feels like there’s nowhere else for him to fit and it makes your eyes screw shut, “ohmyfuckinggod - Steeeve!” 

“Right there? Yeah? Is that it?” He grunts trying to repeat it and your hands squeeze his in an iron grip. “Come on baby, I need to see you.”

It’s hard to open your eyes, the slow drag of his cock against your slick walls is almost overwhelming. Connected to him in a way that is going to change you forever. The pad of his thumb rubs soft on the top of your hand, bringing you back to him. 

“You’re eyes are too pretty to be keepin’ them from me.” He smiles when you finally meet his gaze and it’s enough to punch the air out of your lungs. 

“I love you.” The three words slip past your kiss bitten lips before you can even think long enough to stop them and it makes everything come to a standstill. 

“What’d you just say?” Steve’s voice is quiet, something unrecognizable in his tone that makes all your nerves come back like they never left.

“I - I -“ the harsh sting of rejection is written all over your face and the feeling of you trying to untangle your hands snaps him back to reality. To you.

“Hey, hey, hey, no honey.” He doesn’t let you go, squeezing till his knuckles turn white “I just wanted to make sure I heard you right, because I’ve been wanting to say that to you since the fourth of July.”

You light up for him in a way he’s never seen before and he thinks this is the most beautiful you’ve ever been. 

“Really?” You whisper a little shy, your own smile becoming uncontainable. 

He lets your hands go to wrap his arms back around your waist, sitting up as he pulls you with him on his lap. Chest to chest with his back against your headboard, you’re even closer to him like this. The new position has him impossibly deep, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix making you keen pretty. 

“Yeah, really.” He sighs, wishing he had gotten  to say it first. 

One arm keeps you close while the other wraps around your back, the warmth of his palm spreading wide across it. The stray hair that you missed more than you realized falls over his forehead and there’s nothing stopping you from pushing it back. Fingernails dragging through his soft hair, making his eyes close until he feels the slow drag of your hips spurring him on. 

He doesn’t hesitate to pick up the pace, especially when your arms wrap around his neck and he feels your hardened nipples against chest. The new angle has his thrusts hitting the spot inside of you no one else has ever been able to find, the one you almost didn’t think existed. The tip of him catches it again and again.

The sound of your slick fills the quiet of your room, growing louder with every roll of your hips that connect with his. The light sheen of sweat that coats both of you has you sliding against his thighs, the cool air from the A/C doing nothing as the two of you get lost like this. 

Your second orgasm builds at the same time your body starts to slump against his, your muscles screaming at you for a break. 

“Getting close, huh?” He asks, with a forehead pressed to yours, lips teasing but never touching with each thrust.

All you can do is nod, your eyes not daring to leave his again. He wouldn’t let you even if you tried, a hazel forest turned night, you never wanted to leave the depths of them. 

“So good for me, let go pretty baby, I got you. Let me do all the work.” He picks up his pace, pushing deeper in with every roll of his hips, feeling the way you squeeze around him while your body starts to shake, the high you’d been chasing threatening to take you. 

Holding your gaze, the hand on your back slides up the dip of your spine, curling around the back of your neck. He closes the last bit of space, pulling you to his lips. It’s sloppy and sweet, neither one of you trying to deepen it, just enjoying the way you move together like it was supposed to be like this forever. 

“Fuck- I love you so much it scares me.” Steve admits when he pulls away, his confession is the last straw that sends you over the edge. Tears stinging the corners of your eyes when you cum hard around him for the second time.

Your fingers tangle his hair, crashing your lips into his with tear stained cheeks and he can feel everything you put inside of it just for him. It’s enough to finally let himself unravel for the first time in years with a loud moan and his face buried in your neck. 

It warms deep in your gut when he spills inside of you, his body trembling with the intensity of it all. Your thighs shake clinging to him, both of you too scared to let go in the irrational fear that you’ll just wake up from a really good dream. You can feel the wetness of his tears against your skin, your nails finding their way to his scalp. He hums against you when you kiss his temple, nuzzling deeper until you feel his lips against the underside of your jaw.

The two of you sit there like this in a mess of tangled limbs. Sweet kisses and even sweeter words all spoken just barely above a whisper until he’s soft enough to slide out on his own. He takes his time cleaning you up after with giant hands that treat you like glass. 

It’s like muscle memory the way he pulls you to his chest under the covers, like this isn’t your first sleepover. The tip of his nose runs along the length of yours with shining eyes and an even brighter smile, kissing you softly with another whispered “you’re so beautiful”.

Streams of sunshine break through your blinds when the two of you finally settle in, buried deep in his arms surrounded by the lingering scent of pine and him, the sounds of his even breathing are enough for you to give into your heavy lids. 

It’s only when you’re on the verge of dreams you’re sure will be filled with him that you hear it:

“I love you, tough girl.”

🌇 -> epilogue

beta’d by @chechelia & dividers by @chechelia

(thank you for everything cece ♥️ and a special thank you to @superblysubpar for betaing the first half of this series, i love you both dearly. & also @carolmunson for always talking to me about our boys, and helping me make this world a little bigger ♥️ ily)

[strangespinapple]

BW ~ My Love

Bruce Wayne x Fem Reader

blurb: you and bruce are childhood sweethearts. you love him and he loves you. there is nothing you guys wouldn’t do for each other. but between you being 7 months pregnant with his baby and bruce’s late night activities, you’ve been missing him a lot. so tonight instead of falling asleep and seeing him later on, you decided to stay awake and give your husband a relaxing bubble bath. 

warnings: SMUTTT 18++ MDNI - fluff - pregnancy - soft!bruce - sarcasm? - cursing - bullying - marriage - love - childhood trauma - mentions of death - mentions of virginity - bad/mean boy but soft only for reader troupe 🥹

word count: 2.3k

a/n: the way i've been in my bruce wayne and billy loomis era is CRAAZYYY, definitely more coming soon!

honorable mention: @devilfic. she is one of my favorite writers and i love her Bruce Wayne fics. she is also one of many writers who have inspired me to write. pls check her out if you haven't already! enjoy :)

You and Bruce are childhood sweethearts. Going to the same middle school as the soon-to-be mayor’s son, you saw first hand how cruel people can be. You always made sure to show kindness to him. To let him know that not everyone in this world is heartless. After the death of his parents, the bullying only amplified, and Alfred decided it was best to homeschool him. You were sad that your best friend would no longer be going to the same school as you. But that didn’t stop you from being there for him and seeing him everyday. Never would you have imagined that your childhood best friend would fall for you and make you his wife 12 years later. 

You are currently two months away from giving birth to his son. Bruce has been working extra hard in his day and night job. He promised that he will take a few months off to care for you and the baby. You love Bruce so much and he loves you. That’s why you are filling a soothing bubble bath for him to sit in. It’s 5:30am and the sun is starting to rise in Gotham city. While waiting for the bubble water to fill the tub, you pour a glass of wine and a glass of sparkling cider. Normally Alfred or Lucy (Bruce’s maid) would do this for you but with acts of service being your love language, this time you wanted to make it extra special for him. 

You make your way upstairs as quickly and quietly as your legs can carry you, trying your best to not ruin the surprise. You put the two glasses on the counter in the bathroom so you can scatter rose petals around the tub. Lucy has helped you pick them from the garden, a new hobby you had picked up to fill all your free time. You start to light all the candles you had placed around the bathroom to add to the romance. Turning the water off as now the tub was completely filled, you took one last glance around to make sure everything looked perfect. And it sure as hell did. 

The sound of the bedroom door opening and closing made you feel excited. 

“Honey?” Bruce called out for you. 

“In the bathroom!” 

His heavy footsteps against the hardwood floors can be heard coming towards you. As he walks through the threshold it’s as if time stopped for the both of you. Bruce has always been a very fit, tall and undeniably attractive man. It’s one of the many things that made you fall in love with him. But with him standing there shirtless, still dripping with water from his shower, it made your mouth water. And these pregnancy hormones were not helping either. 

Ever since he found out you were pregnant, he built a shower and changing station inside of the batcave to limit the amount of noise and movement he’d bring to the bedroom. He didn’t want to disturb you and the baby with his mental boots and foul smells after being trapped in leather all night.

Bruce was just as turned on as you were. Seeing you standing there round and swollen with his baby in a purple lacy lingerie nightgown makes his pants feel tight. Beautiful long brown shiny legs and arms that he would bet his last dollar would feel so soft against his skin. Big boobs filled with milk about to pop out of the silk fabric. Your box braids in a high braided ponytail that laid flat against your left shoulder, framed your beautiful chocolate face to look more natural and ethereal than you already look. He could eat you up right here right now and not give a single fuck. 

Taking a look around the bathroom and seeing how stunning it looks, he wonders how he got so lucky to have such a beautiful caring wife. Bruce looks you in the eye with such devotion it makes your heart swell. 

“What do we have here?” He says with a smirk on his face as he walks towards you. 

When he gets in front of you his hands gravitate to your waist, as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Well, I wanted to do something special for you. Something that you wouldn’t see coming.” 

Your smile is art in its purest form for Bruce. He leans down and plants a soft but passionate kiss on your lips. You kiss him back with so much love. The kiss begins to get hot and heavy. You can feel his prominent bulge against your upper thigh, making you more wet than you already are. Placing your hands on his chest to push him away, Bruce looks at you like a starved man with a pout on his lips. 

“I’m supposed to be pampering you, not being seduced by you.” While smiling at him Bruce takes one of his hands and slaps your butt. He takes a deep breath through his nose to calm his hormones down. 

“Okay, whatever you want mamas. Where do you want me?” 

“I need you to take your pants off and get in the tub.”

“Can you take me to dinner first before you try to get in my pants?” He side eyes you while smiling. One thing many people didn’t know about Bruce is that he has a funny sense of humor. Something only you have been privileged to witness. 

You put your hands on your hips and a giggle leaves your lips. (A/N: didn’t mean to rhyme here but just call me DR  Seuss heheh) 

“Get in the tub Mr Wayne” Smiling at him you move one hand to your belly.

“Well of course Mrs Wayne”

Bruce pulls down his sweatpants along with his boxers allowing them to fall to his ankles. His muscular body looks like it was sculpted by God himself. You simply couldn’t help but to stare in awe of him. He steps out of them and makes his way to the bubble bath. Getting in the tub one leg at a time he sits straight up in the bath with the bubble water hitting his mid-waist due to how tall he is. 

Forcing yourself out of your trance, you grab a loofah and lather it with his favorite body wash. Slowly getting down on your hands and knees right beside Bruce, you glide the loofah against his broad strong shoulders and upper back. Cuts and bruises litter across his entire body but you make sure to give a little extra love and care to each and every one of them. 

“Baby you don’t have to do this. I should be taking care of you in your condition.”

“But you always take such good care of me. I want to make you feel as special as you make me feel. Baby or no baby, I can do this for you.” You kiss the side of his face lovingly. Moving to the right side of Bruce to start washing up and down his right arm, Bruce puts his left hand on top of yours. 

“Join me.” His eyes are dark with emotion. You couldn’t tell if it was lust or love or maybe a little of both. 

“Bruce. This is supposed to b-“

“I know I know but trust me, feeling your body sitting perfectly on top of mine IS taking care of me.”

He puts his pointer and middle finger in the shape of legs and walks them seductively along your lower arm. His normally blue eyes, now a gray stormy color, stare deeply into your brown eyes making you incredibly wet. 

“And more importantly it will make me very, very happy.” How could you possibly deny this man anything?

Pushing up on your hands and knees you stand up straight. You throw the soapy loofah into the sink and immediately start stripping. Bruce stares intensely up at you as your hand pulls the straps of your nightgown off and it instantly drops to the floor. 

“Oh you’re trying to kill me.”

With your growing bump in the way it makes it uncomfortable for you to wear sleeping pants and especially underwear. Anyone else would’ve made you feel like a piece of meat, with the way Bruce was eyeing your naked body up and down. But instead, he made you feel so loved and appreciated. Many women would kill for their husbands to look at them the way yours is doing now, let alone wanting to touch them.

“Come here. I need you baby.”

Getting inside the tub, you straddle Bruce. His hand immediately goes over your ass and back up to your hips, moving you back and forth to get you all hot and bothered. A soft moan leaves your lips. Moving the bubbles out of the way, you grab his penis and begin to stroke him back and forth. Bruce’s head falls back hitting the rim of the tub with an audible whine. Thick veins run up and down all 9 inches of him standing hard, with an angry red tint to it. 

You are Bruce’s first and he was yours. When you guys were graduating from high school, he decided to stay home and take over Wayne Enterprises as well as begin his journey as Gotham’s vigilante. While you on the other hand went off to college in Central City. Bruce thought that he wouldn’t be able to have relations with a person, given all that his life entails. So he asked you if you’d be comfortable taking his virginity as it is the one thing he didn’t want to miss out on. Being the best friend you are, you could never say no to Bruce. Also because you were secretly in love with him. How could you not be? Bruce is intelligent, tall, funny, muscular, has ocean blue eyes you can get lost in, and a deep and mysterious voice. He’s always been so attractive. Still to this day women throw themselves at his feet, willing to do anything and everything to be with him. You were more than happy to give Bruce an amazing first time, and that’s exactly what it was. It was so good that he was constantly on your mind at school. He absolutely ruined any chance of you being with another man. And when you tried to sleep with other men nothing came close. Bruce felt the same way about you. Every time you are intimate with Bruce it reminds you of your first time with him. 

Bruce lifts his head up and his hazy eyes meet yours. Not being able to wait any longer, you lift yourself up onto his throbbing cock. Sliding downwards, Bruce’s hands on your hips help guide you as your back arches. Both of you let out pornographic moans into each other’s faces. 

“Fucking hell.” Feeling you squeeze the life out of him, Bruce buckles his hips up into yours. 

“OHH Bruce” 

You rock back and forth on his cock while he pounds up into you. With arms around him, you tug on the hairs on the nape of his neck. Pulling his hair has always been Bruce’s weakness during sex. Bruce wraps his arms around your waist and holds you down as he jackhammers up into you.

“MOMMY I CAN’T—“

“FUUCKKKK”

With him hitting that perfect spot inside of you, you lose all restraint and moan while coming hard on his cock. Due to overly sensitive pregnancy nerves, you end up squirting. Your legs shake and your pussy clenches the life out of him. Your moans are music to his ears and it pushes him over the edge. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he grunts. His cock swells and spurts of his cum fly into the deepest parts of your uterus. Knowing that if you weren’t already pregnant, you’d definitely be after this. 

Breathing heavily against one another, you and Bruce feel a rush of love and content in your hearts. You pull away from Bruce and stare into each other’s eyes. 

“I-”

Taking the words right out of your mouth “I love you so much”

You smile at him. 

“That’s what I was gonna say” You lean down and kiss him as if it is the last time you’re going to see him.

He moans softly into the kiss and then breaks it. You turn around in the tub to sit back against Bruce’s chest. He wraps his arms around you and rubs your belly lovingly. You lay your head back against his strong shoulder. You look up at him through your lashes and study his beautiful face.

“Have you thought about a baby name yet?”  He says looking back down at you.

“No, have you?”

“Nope. But I have faith in you to pick a good name for our baby. You're going to be an amazing mama.”

“Awe honey, you’re so sweet.” He smiles from ear to ear and kisses you sweetly. 

He has always loved it when you called him sweet pet names. It helps heal his mommy issues, one name at a time. 

“What do you think about Dick?” You pull away and hand his glass of wine to him while holding yours in the other hand.

“Mhmm I don’t know.” He takes a sip of wine.

“I guess when we meet him we’ll know.”

Another smile slowly creeps up on Bruce’s face. Seems like ever since you came back into his life, he’s been smiling a lot more. He cups your face with his other hand and moves his thumb back and forth. He stares into your eyes wondering what he do to get so damn lucky. You are the light at the end of the tunnel. The sun that shines after a harsh thunderstorm.

An amazing dream he never wants to wake up from.

[seatnights]

Who are some of your favorite fan fiction writers?

i spent hours to collect usernames of authors i enjoyed reading from, and i’m sure i missed some, but i tried.

are u ready for this?

authors you SHOULD support:

oneforthemunny / icallhimjoey / jamdoughnutmagician / rosebudsgarden / willowsgri / joequinnisgod / eddiemunsons80sbaby / chrrymunson / eddiemunsonswhxre / lonelysatellites / loveshotzz / usedtobecooler / carolmunson / upsidedownwithsteve / sherifftillman / spicysix / emsgoodthinkin / retrobutterflies / tiannasfanfic / athena-writes-i-guess / shesinchargeareyoukidding / cooliestghouliest / singularattitudeofasafetypin / babybluebex / quinnyfairy / moonchildquinn / i-me-mine / luveline / myosotisa / silent-stories / blueywrites / steviesbicrisis / munson-blurbs / ficsbypix / lovejosephquinn / eddieschains / prettyboyeddiemunson / eddieandbird /pleasantlycrazyworld / corroded-hellfire / trashmouth-richie / justmeinadaze / mopeymopeymouse / munsonslilbunnie / keeponquinning / gatorstillman / allthingsjoeq / jadeylovesmarvelxo / mysticmunson / sugarsblurbs / taintedcigs / gag-me-munson / gravedigginbbydoll / ratskcoreddie / andvys / manicpixiedreamcurl / thruheavenandhighwater / joejoequinnquinn / munsonsreputation / upsidedownmvnson / hellfiresmaster / elightysixbaby / eddiessluttywaist / littledemondani / choke-me-eddie / eddiemunsonsmum / eddiemunsonfuxks / pinkrelish / hllfireclb / indulgence-be-thy-name / wheels-of-despair / hellfiremunsonn / filthyjoetini / ghost-proofbaby / havecourage-darling / forever-rogue / queenimmadolla / josephfakingquinn / roanniom / bimbobaggins69 / songforeddiemunson / munsons-hellfire / honey-flustered / eddie-van-munson / storiesbyrhi / lovebugism / neonghostlights / harrywavycurly / chestylarouxx / courtingchaos / galaxy-siren / harringtons-cupid / hard-candy-writing / wroteclassicaly / raccoonboywrites / dr-aculaaa / palomahasenteredthechat / palomahasenteredthechat / forevermoreharrington / corrodedcorpses / strangerquinns / sunnythevampireslayer / lesservillain / stevenose / eddiesxangel / stveharringtn / spookysteddie / keeksandgigz / darlingsfandom / her-power / idkidknemore / francisquinn / inkluvs / ashwhowrites / hellfire--cult / succubusmunson / v8mpstamp / stevieswhore / munsons-maiden / rustboxstarr / corrodedseraphine / reidsbtch / lexlec / katiemcrae / the-unforgivenn / keerysfolklore / appocalipse / familyvideowithsteve / tiannamortis / joekeeryswife / bettyfrommars / cinemamunson / munson-mjstan / teddyeyeseddie / lofaewrites / mediocredreams / leasstories

OK SO

here we have 137 authors, i didn’t tag anyone cuz i would probably have disturbed half of the fandom, sorry if it’s more difficult this way, but i hope i could help you a bit.

obviously, there’s no order of preference of any kind, and i tried to put as many authors as i could but i know i’ve missed someone. if i did, i’m deeply sorry, it wasn’t on purpose and i have nothing against you! if you wish you can message me or slide in my ask and ill add you immediately!

now, i’m a bit tired after all of this, and my hand hurts but:

DON’T FORGET TO SUPPORT THE AUTHORS!!!

they put their works for free!!! everyone can enjoy media and content for free thanks to them! and it cost you nothing to reblog and share their work.

thank you for every creators / writers/ artist out there to make every single works of yours and sharing them with the world. all of you deserve so much, and thanks to you for so many people the day gets better, it’s like having a sweet little treat, like taking care of yourself, like finding a place where you are understood. so, thank you infinitely. keep it up cause you’re doing amazing!

-🤍🌻🌱

[eddies-puppet]

You Gave Me Our World

(Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: Just a little Valentines blurb to try and get myself writing again 💜

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Fluff with a decent serving of angst. No REAL smut but allusions to it. Mentions of Eddie’s mom, Eddie being insecure.

Notes: Sorry if this sucks, just trying to get rid of my writers block!

———————————————————

Heaven. That’s where I am right now.

Wrapped in my boyfriend’s arms, bodies tangled between the bedsheets as the rain pattered lightly on the roof of the trailer where Eddie and I live together. My head lay on his chest, his heart beating hard against my ear as he came back down to earth after the throes of ecstacy we’d both been in a few moments ago. The arm that wasn’t around me was bent up beneath his head.

“You still with me baby?” Eddie asked softly, his fingertips dragging lightly against the soft skin of my back.

“Mmm, still here,” I breathed, my voice barely more than a whisper as I trailed my nails gently across his tummy, smiling as I felt his muscles react involuntarily. It was his most ticklish spot.

Sighing deeply, I pressed a soft kiss to his tattooed chest. “Can we stay here forever?”

“That sounds really good,” he chuckled.

I closed my eyes, the sound of his heart beating steadily soothing me, sleep trying (unsuccessfully) to overwhelm me.

Life had gotten real busy lately, meaning that I valued these moments so much more. The moments of quiet, when it’s just the two if us, the noise of the outside world just fading away.

Just us. Me and him. All I needed in life.

When Eddie and I had first got together, everyone told me to run. That trouble followed him, that he wasn’t the ‘type of boy’ I should be with.

But I knew the other side of Eddie Munson. Kind, goofy, made me laugh until I cried. That was my Eddie.

His hand had worked its way up my back, now gently running his fingers through my hair. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. I’m sure there were probably hearts in my eyes if you looked hard enough!

He was miles away though, deep in thought.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked him. His eyes dropped to mine, the sadness in his eyes evident despite the darkness of the room. “Eds, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing baby, I’m good,” he smiled unconvincingly.

“Don’t try and bullshit me Munson, I know you better than that.” He sighed heavily, his eyes going back to the ceiling.

“I don’t know, I just…” he hesitated. “You deserve better.”

“Better than what?” I asked him, my voice unable to hide the concern.

“This,” he said frustratedly, the hand that had been behind his head now gesturing wildly around the room. “It’s Valentine’s Day for fuck sake! You should be at that new expensive hotel in the city, or Enzos at the very least. Instead you’re eating takeout pizza under two blankets ‘cos we can’t afford extra on the utilities!”

“Hey, the sex warmed me up at least,” I giggled, regretting it instantly when his sad eyes met mine once again. “I’m sorry, I’m kidding,” I whispered, my hand moving to his face. “Eddie, I don’t give a shit about expensive dinners, or how many blankets we have to use,” I promised him, his breath shaking as he exhaled, my thumb gently stroked his cheek.

“Baby, this isn’t the life you were born in to. You should be living in a big house, with a white picket fence and a swing on the porch.”

“You’re right, it’s not the life I was born in to. But it’s the life I chose,” I assured him. “Eds, I know you sometimes find it hard to believe, but I love you. The rest of it doesn’t matter. It’s all just background noise.”

I propped myself up on my elbow, looking down at him, his dark eyes sparkling, his dark curls fanning out across the pillow. “Look at you,” I whispered. “Beautiful.”

In spite of himself, he smiled back at me.

I leant down, my fingers burying themselves in his hair as our lips met. I kissed him gently, his breath tickling my cheek as he slowly exhaled through his nose.

“I love you. So much,” I told him again, resting my forehead against his.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “I just wish I could give you the world.”

“You’ve given me our world, that’s all I need,” I smiled before laying back down.

As I snuggled back in to his chest, I reached for his hand, which was laying on his stomach. As my fingers traced the veins on his hand, the cold metal of his ring caught me off guard.

You would think with them being worn all the time they would warm up. Perhaps it was just the stark contrast from his hot skin.

Eddie Munson was always warm, even in the middle of a snowstorm. He was great to be around in the winter, stifling in the heat of the Indiana summer.

My fingers played absentmindedly with the cold metal, the large black stone smooth to touch as I lost myself in his warmth, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the gentleness of his other hand soothing up and down my back.

He rolled over to face me, his arms encircling me, pulling me flush against him.

“There is one thing that I can give you,” he said softly. “That I want to give you.”

I could feel his hands fidgeting behind my back, not unusual for Eddie, but when he bought his hand between us and opened his hand, he held his ring. The same one I had been playing with a few moments ago. The one that had belonged to his mother before she died.

I shook my head as he held it out to me.

“I can’t take that,” I whispered.

“I want you to have it,” he said insistently.

I hesitated, freezing in place, my head empty. I obviously paused for too long.

“She’d have loved you, you know,” he smiled, his eyes glistening suddenly with unshed tears.

“Baby, I cannot take this. It means too much to you.”

“So do you,” he smiled. “Look, are you planning on running out on me?” He beamed, the deep dimples appearing on his cheeks making you smile again.

“No, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me,” I grinned, biting at the inside of my cheek.

“Then you’re not taking it. Look at it as a loaner until Corroded Coffin hit the big time and I can afford to replace it with a diamond the size of Hawkins,” he laughed as he took my hand and gently slid the ring on to my finger.

“See?” He grinned as he looked at my hand. “Fits you better than me anyway.” He lifted my hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss where his ring now sat.

“I guess you’re right, it is a perfect fit.”

“I have something else that fits you perfectly,” he grinned cheekily, rolling his hips against me.

“Really?” I laughed. “Already?” He nodded eagerly, raising his eyebrows suggestively before burying his face in my neck.

“Not for fun obviously, I’m just getting cold,” he said between kisses, his lips dragging against my skin. “Unless you want me to just go get an extra blanket?” He added quietly, just before his teeth nipped at the spot below my ear that he knew always drove me crazy.

“Don’t you fucking dare go anywhere,” I giggled, throwing my leg over his hip and pulling him on top of me. No way was I letting him go tonight.

[promenadewithme]

Happy Sappy Hormones

a/n: I know, I know. I've been away for a while. but I have my last final next week and after that I'm turning off med head and turning on writer mode! I've been watching criminal minds and I'm only on s2, but I already have this MASSIVE crush on Spencer Reid. So here's a little blurb I wrote recently. It's not proofread, so forgive me for any mistakes. Pairing: Spencer Read x profiler! you (no use of y/n) Warnings: slightly smutty, but nothing graphic. next chapter is going to be graphic af. um.. let me think... one bed trope, overnight stay at an in, pre-sex, all that tension (at least I aimed for it lol) and pining. Word Count: I have no idea

Am I sweating? I think I’m sweating. How the hell am I supposed to sleep next to this man? Fuck this stupid inn for having only one room with one bed. How cliche of them.

I peek at him and he’s looking up, head against the wall. Spencer swallows, throat bobbing up and down. He has such a nice profile, sharp nose and jawline, the most pronounced cheekbones you will ever see in real life, brows that always seem to be furrowed in thought, pillowy lips that I can’t help but picture against my own. And that hair… Those fluffy chocolate waves that beg for my fingers to mess up.

He’s soft but manly. Angelic heart with a dark mind. 

I rake my eyes across his face once more and notice that a bit of a stubble has grown since this morning. What would that feel like brushing against my neck? Better yet, what would they feel like between my thighs while he-

Nope, too far. I have gone too far.

A blush creeps up my neck to my cheeks. Sleep is the last thing on my mind right now.

“Did you know that sharing a bed is actually good for your health?” he blurbs out, still looking at the ceiling. 

So he’s uncomfortable too. Great.

“How so?” I ask, playing with the hem of my shirt.

“It releases serotonin, dopamine and oxytocin.” he states matter of factly.

“The golden trio of happy sappy hormones.” I quip.

“Something like that” he smirks, giving me a quick look before continuing. “Our pituitary glands transform serotonin into melatonin, which is the hormone that controls our sleep. That’s why cuddling in general makes you sleepy. Serotonin is also known as the ‘happy hormone’ because it’s a mood stabiliser, but it’s more than that. It regulates body temperature, improves memory and aids learning.”

I feel Spencer’s body slowly relax into the mattress as he speaks, so I spur him on.

“Is that so?” I say, trying to hide how much his intelligence affects me.

This man could open a book on gut microbiota, read it to me outloud and it would still be like dirty talk to me. 

“Yes.” he smiles timidly and scooches closer, turning his body in my direction.

 “What about dopamine?” I ask before I let my mind wander again.

“Dopamine is the reward chemical, it’s the rush you feel when you get a good grade or when you eat or sleep.And it’s um…” he pauses and starts playing with the sheets between us “It’s also released when you’re sexually attracted to someone.”

“Oh.” I say in almost a whisper. I must be releasing a lot of that lately.

“Yeah.” he says, taking the hem of my shirt from my grasp and toying with it himself. “It also causes our body's physiological reaction to attraction.”

His finger brushes against my stomach, leaving goosebumps in its wake and making my pulse skyrocket. 

“Which reactions?” I ask but the air seems too shallow, there’s not enough oxygen in my lungs.

He finally looks at me and my breathing stops. His hazel eyes bore into mine like they can see my soul. I’m afraid he knows how much I want him, I’m afraid he’ll see how much I wish he would drift his hand further down until he reaches the part of me that wants him the most.

He lifts his hand to my face and trails a shaky finger down my cheek and neck before saying “Like blushing,” his hand trails softly down my arm and my skin pebbles up where he touched “Goosebumps,” he makes it to my wrist and presses down on my artery “quickened heartbeat,” he bows his head and kisses my hand softly, never taking his eyes from mine “the effect of dopamine is obsessive and almost drug-like, you can’t stay away from the person you love and you don’t want to either.”

I can’t breathe. I feel myself shifting closer to him and my attention is fully on his lips. Those lips that never stop moving and I never want them to. Except, right now, I want them moving against mine. 

“What about oxytocin?” I whisper, forcing myself to look at his eyes, his gorgeous hazel eyes. 

“The love hormone.” he mumbles, bringing his hand to my neck while his thumb strokes my cheek. “It’s released in mothers during labour and when in contact with their newborn, but also during sex.”

We are so close that I can see the faint freckles that dust his nose, I’d never noticed them before.

“Any benefits?” I ask, spreading my hands on his chest. He’s so warm.

His voice is low and husky when he answers. 

“Lowers your blood pressure and cortisol levels,” his nose brushes against mine and I look at his lips again “reduces stress.”

“That’s um…” What was I saying again? His lips brush against mine once. Twice. “That’s nice.”

He dips down once more and captures my lips in a slow kiss, like he’s testing the waters. I sigh and my arms make their way around his neck. Spencer darts his tongue out and takes a quick swipe at my bottom lip, I let him in. When his tongue brushes against mine tentatively, his chest rumbles with his low groan and I sink into his arms. 

He grabs my left leg and throws it over his hips so I’m straddling him. I feel his erection between my legs and moan into the kiss. My hands go up to his hair and his locks are even softer than I thought they would be. 

I pull back only slightly “I think we’ve been very stressed lately.”

He nods and kisses me again before saying “Only benefits can come from this.” 

“Yeah, we’re just taking care of our health, right?” 

We stare at each other, panting in unison.

I shouldn’t do this, this will only complicate things. But how can I think of that when he’s looking at me like I’m the hottest woman on earth? How can I think this is wrong when I’ve wanted this for so long? When his soft hair is disheveled by my touch, his mouth swollen from my kiss, his pupils dilated with lust for me, making his hazel eyes dark. 

Just once, I get the chance to do something for me, something that will make me feel good with someone that makes me feel good and seen and beautiful. 

Fuck it. 

I lick my lips and bring his face towards mine in the hottest kiss I have ever had. 

--------

PROLOGUE HAD BEEN POSTED!

[corgiplays]

Watched?

Chloe felt like she's being watched. Her heightened senses both new and familiar to her.

It's like eyes are on her, alone, with her family, with Red. It makes her hackles rise and a growl bubble in her chest, even Red's gentle touch on her cheek can't make her stop.

"I feel like someone is watching us." Chloe mumbles when the two are alone in Red's room.

"Amore, you've said that everyday since we woke up. Talk to me about this." Red's voice just toes the life of pleading as she cups Chloe's cheeks.

Chloe sighs, "It feels like there are eyes on me. All the time, it feels unnatural, maybe magical? It makes me uneasy." Her voice sounds tired as she gently knocks her forehead against Red's, eyes closed. Red frowns as she rubs circles into Chloe's cheeks, soothing the worry lines.

"Maybe my mom can do some magic to check?" Red mumbles, the proposition easing the tension in Chloe's body. "Do you think it has to do with whatever the dream world showed us?" Red asks, the question makes Chloe open her eyes.

"If we really did change the past and make your mom good it could have caused another villain to appear to balance out our timeline now." Chloe theories pulling away from Red and laughing softly at the whine that Red makes when she does. Chloe grabs a notebook and flips to an empty page where she starts writing down everything that the dream world had and their world, Red chimes in with what she remembers as well as the two try to figure out who this balancing villain could be.

---

"Pain, Panic, I do hope you have some useful information for me?" The woman's voice is cold and detached as she sits in a surprisingly normal chair.

"Of- of course mistress. Chloe and Red have seem to have woken up from whatever slumped they were in, but- we think that the mutt has caught onto us-"

"Has she caught you or are you trying to aggravate me." The woman's voice cut Panic off as the demon shrunk into himself.

"Of- course no your highness-"

"Good, so tell me something worthwhile." The woman cut off Pain as she rolls her eyes at the two demons.

"The mutt when feral when Red passed out, almost killing a few people who got too close and since you want to wage war..." Pain says squinting as he half expects the enchantress to yell again.

"Interesting, maybe we could use their puppy to our advantage. Wagging war and taking out one of Charmingsburg's top assets. Good boy Pain." The enchantress purrs, petting the demon. "Now let go and plant the seeds of war in my husband's brain." She says as her figure changes into a woman just shorter, brown hair cascades down her back as her sickly white gown turns into a sunny yellow one, her heels clicking as she walks.

"I didn't marry the King of Auradon for nothing." The enchantress laughs as a woman in tattered rags weakly looks up from her shackles, seeing this monster turn into her makes her feel sick as she cringes.

---

Enjoy this little build up. This will probably stay as a Tumbler exclusive fic which will mainly be little blurbs like this because college is starting soon and I'm having a little bit of writers block for One Day You Will Soar and also limited free time as I have to pack.

But enjoy this as I will hope to have the next chapter out by the end of the week.

[thepaintedlady00]

Is this what I should be writing? No. Is it what my brain has become obsessed with? Yes. 😅😂 SO, my friend and I have been playing Baldur's Gate 3 and last week she just sent me a piece of fanart for Enver Gortash and a The Dark Urge Tav. She wrote me an essay about how a story about these two and their tragic pasts and sexy chemistry and eventual love affair and angst was just so perfect and blah blah blah. No big deal, right? WRONG! WRONG! Because now it's stuck in my head and I've been writing long ass blurbs for a fic that I did not have planned whilst I'm supposed to be writing like 2 other things right now! 🤣 Well, anyway, here this is because *looks at script my friend wrote out for me* "I'm the boss (writer) and I can do (write) whatever I want" 🧍‍♀️. Let me know if y'all enjoy this because boy oh boy do I have more (it's literally turning into ANOTHER 20 plus chapter series). Thanks for the brain rot you bitch (said lovingly), I hope you enjoy the tiny peek into the fic you want so badly!

The glinting steel reflected the vision of pale skin - skin I wanted nothing more than to slice open. The man made a slight, quiet noise. It wasn’t one I usually heard when about to take a life. Everyone else was always babbling, clearly terrified to die, but he seemed to be bored… annoyed. I admired the way the chilled, freshly sharpened blade kissed his neck so nicely before his hands finally stopped their intricate movements, and he slowly settled back against his chair. "We have to stop meeting like this."

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't slit your throat."

"It'd be such a waste of a pretty neck," he joked. I pulled the blade back more, nearly cutting the tender flesh he seemed so fond of. He made some noise of protest and quickly added, "As well as a waste of a powerful ally."

The laugh that bubbled out of my throat was unexpected. It'd been so long since I'd laughed. Surely he was joking. I kept the knife steady as I stepped out from behind the chair and truly examined him. He was fit enough, with strong arms and a well-toned physique with a power that surrounded him as well, but it was but a simmer... A meager fountain in some garden compared to the power I'd witnessed. He grinned beneath my gaze. "See something you like, assassin?"

"If you're so powerful, then why is it me that holds your life in my hands?" I asked, with an arched brow.

"It would be rude of me to interrupt. You are doing such a lovely job with all these vague threats."

"You'd risk your life on some self-imposed manners?"

He rolled his eyes. "You aren't going to kill me."

I grinned at his boldness. "No?" Pressing the dagger down I made sure to draw blood this time. The sight of it made my mouth go dry, anticipation humming through me. "You would make a pretty corpse."

"I've no doubts about that," he agreed with barely a flinch. "But, if you'd intended for me to die, I suspect I would have been dead weeks ago when you first paid me a visit."

His words - those cursed words he'd uttered the first time my blade touched his throat rang in my ears. "You're beautiful."

A chill, a fragment of a feeling, crawled up my spine, and the dark urge to bleed him dry went quiet. Slowly I withdrew my blade, leaning back to sit on his table, not caring if his papers smudged. "What do you want, slaver?"

The man's lips curled up into a snarl at the term, but he quickly tempered himself. "An alliance."

"And what exactly are we allying against?" I questioned with a hum. "We don't exactly run in the same circles."

"We are far more similar than you think, Bhaalspawn."

My blade twisted in between my fingers as I shoved forward and dug it into the back of the chair, just an inch shy of his face. Baring my teeth I let out a low growl. "Who told you what I am?"

The man smiled, not at all deterred by my blade nor my voice. "No one. I knew what you were the moment I saw you." He leaned forward, so close our noses nearly touched. "You'll want to keep that secret close though."

"Bold of you to threaten me,” I complimented with a slight raise of my brow.

"Oh, it's not a threat," he corrected. "Simply some advice from one worshiper to another."

"You worship Bhaal?"

"Gods no," he scoffed. "Murder doesn't exactly fit my particular skill set. Besides, these silks are far too fine a fabric to stain with all that blood. No, I prefer power... Status... Tyranny."

I rolled my eyes with a quiet scoff of my own. "A disciple of Bane then. How fitting for a cocksure man."

His head tilted slightly, eyes dragging down the length of me as I leaned back into the table. "I'm certain we'll have plenty of time to explore how cocksure I am whilst we work together."

"I haven't agreed to work with you yet."

"Yes you have," he replied, confident and unwavering. "You see the potential in such an alliance. Two dark gods are more powerful together than one alone. United we could do so much more."

With a quiet hum I regarded his words carefully. He held some semblance of truth in his statement. Bhaal was not as strong as he once was, his worship and power long declined. Uniting, even if just for a short time, with another Chosen could prove to be useful in achieving both our goals. There was something in me that stirred beneath the man's steady, unflinching gaze... Something warm and foreign. Once again his first words to me filled my mind. "You're beautiful."

Reaching forward I pulled my blade from the wood and pointed it at his neck again. "Get rid of the flyers or the next time we meet my blade will bury itself in your throat."

"Does that mean you accept?" He questioned with almost a giddy smirk.

"It means I'll consider it." 

I wearily watched him rise to his feet, towering over me. "How shall I summon you again?"

My jaw clenched. "You do not summon me. If the Temple of Bhaal agrees to participate in this plot of yours I shall find you."

"And if not?"

"Then I will still find you, and I will kill you."

"Splendid," he mocked with a clever bow. "I, Enver Gortash, shall eagerly await your return."

"The flyers," I reminded, stepping around him to move back toward the window.

His boots scuffed against the floor, the boards creaking beneath his weight. "What shall I call you? Assassin? Or your moniker perhaps? What was it... The Dark Urge." The man, Gortash, made a displeased noise. "I'd much prefer your name if it's all the same to you."

I should have left - I had every intention just to leave, and yet my steps halted. The chilled breeze from the cracked window brought goosebumps to my arms, every hair rising on end from the cold or perhaps from the sudden and odd anticipation that filled me. I turned my head to the side, eyes slyly glancing at him as the soft whisper of the name... My name rolled off my tongue. "Remora."

Gortash smiled. It was different from the others... Softer... Genuine. The sight of it sent a sharp sensation through my chest before it vanished, and he teasingly bowed again. "I await your swift return, Remora."

Shaking off the weight of those unknown feelings I climbed through the window and leapt into the dark night. Loose shingles shifted beneath my light steps as I hurried across the rooftop. The wind stung my cheeks and threatened to pull my hood from my head as I slowed and looked back at the window. I could barely make out the shape of him standing there, looking out into the night as if he could still see me. A frustrated bubble of annoyance finally burst within me and made me want to groan as I quickly realized he was right.

I had already decided to join him.

[word-wytch]

tldr: extremely sappy and vulnerable post ahead

My baby, Don't Stand So Close To Me, turns one year old today.

After a lifelong history of abandoning creative projects, my love for the story I wanted to tell and my newly found passion for the art of writing finally surpassed my fear of rejection, and so I stepped out of the Shire and onto this very long road.

Listen, I know I'm talking about a fanfiction and being very dramatic, but in my opinion every creative endeavor holds the same amount of weight no matter if you're writing books for money, or writing songs for the radio, or songs played only in your bedroom. It all requires you to dig deep and face yourself.

This is the longest and hardest I have ever worked on a creative project in my life.

Over the course of the past year I have come to know myself in a way that I think only writing a novel chapter by chapter for an online community could accomplish. There have been some very dark times, but facing your shadow is always illuminating. Through it, I have grown exponentially both as a writer and as a person.

If I could offer one piece of writing (and life) advice it would be this: Let yourself be where you are. Love yourself here, now. You have been good enough, are good enough, and will be good enough, always. You have nothing to prove to anyone. Your only responsibility is to keep the flame of your joy for creating alive. And that's it. The rest will take care of itself.

I know this is easier said than done. I know this from the painful experience of having believed the opposite about myself at one point.

All artists want to be seen on some level, we need to be. But ultimately, no amount of external validation can supplement the intrinsic love you have for creating. It's even better shared with others, but it comes first from within. I would argue that even if all you had was an idea that made you so giddy that you had to run laps around the room, then you have it all. Your only job is to keep that love alive. It's what I'm chasing every day. More than followers, or notes, or any superficial measure of success. That feeling is everything. The love that I have for my art and this character is everything. The love that I have for myself is, ultimately, everything.

It is a natural part of the journey for all creatives to encounter blocks and adversities, so when it feels like you've lost that joy or you're dragging your forehead against your keyboard in the thick of it, please do not fret. The real secret is that you can never really lose the spark, because you are the spark. You'll feel it again. You're not broken. You haven't failed. Just love yourself anyway and let yourself be where you are, even if that's crying into your ice cream.

Because the gap between how you feel and how you want to feel is not something that once closed, will stay closed forever. It's something you love yourself back to again, and again, and again, and again. And maybe, after your muscles build and your blisters heal, you'll come to enjoy the journey.

For the first time in my creative life I truly feel seen. Thank you all for seeing me, for coming on this journey with me. Thank you to every reader who's left a kind word, every friend that I've made as a result of pursuing this. There are too many to name. I have never been a part of a fan community in this capacity and I feel so unspeakably lucky to have found such a home in this one.

I want to thank, most especially, the people who have both figuratively and literally held my hand throughout the last year behind the scenes. Thank you for sending me coffee, letting me bounce ideas, send massive emails, text feverish voice messages back and forth, keysmash spoilers at you, cry on your shoulder, and fangirl over our boy (and his teacher) @toxicjayhoo @storiesbyrhi @the-unforgivenn @munson-blurbs @jo-harrington @rip-quizilla

I love you.

[somesecretpie]

I've been receiving a lot of asks in my inbox that I don't want to answer because they are essentially the same and I don't wanna flood my tumble with repeat messages. So this is kind of going to be a "general answering my asks."

1.) To all the folks that told me that they liked my OCD comic and that it helped them in some way, thank you so much. I read your message and it made me very happy. I love all of you, stay strong and good luck!

2.) To all the folks asking me whether or not they have OCD and giving me a detailed list of their symptoms, I am not a mental health professional. I cannot diagnose you with any mental health condition over the internet from a little blurb of information. I would be essentially responding the same thing to each one: visit the IOCDF website for information about OCD. Try checking out this page in particular for a list of mental health conditions commonly mistaken for OCD/that share symptoms with OCD. And if you are struggling, seek professional help or talk to a counselor if you are able to. And generally, be careful with self-diagnosis. I am not against well researched self-diagnosis on principal and I think it can be very useful (especially to people that don't have a lot of money) but fear can definitely cause you to jump to conclusions (usually the worst conclusions.) I've self-diagnosed myself with brain tumors, stomach cancer, and a whole lot of other things with little evidence but my own fear. When you read these informational pages, try to do it with a clear mind. And refrain from reading them over and over. Just once or twice. Alright? Alright.

I did answer one of these asks because it seemed a bit severe and I actually did think I could say something useful that wasn't on the IOCDF website but I am not going to answer the other ones. I hope you understand.

3.) To all the folks asking me if their fictional character they have made with OCD is accurate and/or problematic and giving me detailed descriptions of them or asking permission to write a character with OCD: Lol. Lmao.

Okay but really: I appreciate your questions and want to give you a nice pat on the head for trying to write accurately about a condition that is so widely misunderstood. Sincerely, thank you. But once again, I'm gonna just refer you to the IOCDF website for more information on OCD. Because I don't want to fill up my tumblr with a bunch of these. Hope you understand.

Generally though…all of your characters seem …just fine? Yeah they all seem fine. If you feel like need permission to write a character with OCD, you have my permission. Here you go. I am handing you a pass.

The bar for writing OCD characters is so low. It’s underground. If you know what OCD even is, you’re already doing better than most writers. I guess if I can give you one peice of advice: don’t write the OCD as some kind of superpower. It doesn’t give people super detective skills or make people good at math. There is literally nothing positive about it. Characters with OCD can be badass and awesome of course, but not because of their OCD.

If you really want my specific opinion about your blorbo, you can always message me rather than sending me an anon ask. I promise I will not think you are cringe and I might even answer if I am bored.

Have a nice day!

[blue-aconite]

the night is calling || part one

Summary: A slight chill runs up her spine as she reaches the part of the lot where the lights have gone out. The entire area is bathed in darkness and as she steps out of the halo of safety the light provides, it feels that the temperatures drop about 20 degrees. She peers into the darker parts of the trees, eyes straining to see.

Warnings: supernatural!au, spooky themes, mentions of character death, no use of y/n, f!reader

Word Count: 1k

Pairings: hinted at jake seresin x f!reader 

Authors Note: Based on this from the “send me a made-up fanfic title”. Thank you @a-reader-and-a-writer​ for the title! And the best beta, who made this lil blurb so much better, thank you @writercole​! 

"Shh!" Ghost slaps a hand over Rooster's mouth, eyes wide. "Did you hear that?"

Bradley's brows furrow, his hand reaching up to remove her palm from his face. "Hear what? It's dead quiet out here." The parking lot is mostly empty, save for a few cars left behind.

"No no, I heard something. Over there." Ghost whispers, nodding towards the far end of the lot, where the street lamp flickers continuously.

Bradley snorts loudly, making Ghost shush him again. "Ghost, you're being paranoid. There's nothing out here. It's dead, quite literally. C'mon, let's go back inside."

He tugs on her arm, trying to get her to budge. But she doesn't move, eyes trained on something that he can't see. He tries again, but Ghost doesn't take notice of his actions.

"Fine. Stay out here and stare at the dark. I'm going." She makes an agreeing sound but doesn’t protest him leaving. 

Ghost should go back inside with Rooster, she knows that. But she stays, listening carefully to the whispers coming from the dark. Bradley might not have heard them but she does. It's her name, over and over, coming softly from the trees.

Ghost wouldn't call herself impulsive but it might be the proper word to describe her next actions as she moves towards the shadows where she can hear her name being whispered, calling to her like a beacon in the dark.

A slight chill runs up her spine as she reaches the part of the lot where the lights have gone out. The entire area is bathed in darkness and as she steps out of the halo of safety the light provides, it feels that the temperatures drop about 20 degrees. She peers into the darker parts of the trees, eyes straining to see.

"You should have listened to your friend, little one. If only you had gone back inside." The voice that comes from the shadows has her pulling back, scrambling to get back into the light.

The voice tuts as the shadows move. Ghost can now make out the silhouette of a person, standing hidden in the darkness. Broad shoulders and muscular arms crossed over the chest of a man that she vividly remembers.

"I truly wish you'd gone with Rooster. You're the last person I want to hurt. I've missed you, Ghostie. It's been too long."

The nickname makes the hair on her neck stand, hands trembling as she takes another step back. There's only one person that calls her Ghostie.

The only problem is that he's been dead for 7 months and they never recovered his body.

She must be drunker than she thought. Maybe someone slipped something in her drink. Wiping a hand across her face, she rubs at her eyes to adjust to the darkness engulfing them. The man is still there, eyes roaming over her figure. He doesn’t move from his spot against the tree, nor does he speak again. He just stares. Maybe this is a dream, she thinks. Maybe she went home and this is all some drunken dream after a wild night out. 

“It’s not a dream, Ghostie. And you’re not that drunk. I’ve been watching you. Nobody slipped you anything. I wouldn’t let that happen.”

Ghost hadn’t realised she’d been speaking out loud. He smiles again, pearly white teeth quite the contrast to the dark. 

Hallucination then. This can’t be real. He can’t be real. 

“Sweetheart, I am quite real. I wanted to come look for you earlier but adjusting has been.. Hm, difficult to say the least. It’s a whole new world.” 

“You’re dead,” she whispers, while desperately wishing Rooster would come back. The man chuckles, straightening up and taking a step towards her. 

Her instincts tell her to run but her body won’t listen. She’s frozen on the spot, helpless to do anything as he comes closer. 

“I guess you’re right. I am dead, in a way.” He stops on the edge of the parking lot, where the light touches the ground. He doesn’t take another step but she can see him clearly now. 

Gathering her wits, she holds up a hand, hoping it will stop him from advancing. “Don’t come any closer. I’ll scream.” He doesn’t seem bothered by the threat, leaning against the lamp post now, hands shoved in the pockets of his tan peacoat. 

Tsk’ing, he shakes his head. “Please don’t. It will only attract unwanted attention.” He leans closer without actually moving his feet and he’s too close now, enough that she can feel his breath on her face. 

She flinches when his hand comes up to cup her face but her body is frozen still. His touch is nothing like she remembers it being. It used to be scorching hot but now it’s cold. 

When he leans in closer, Ghost closes her eyes, heart beating erratically as he inhales. One hand is still cupping her face, the other one gripping her wrist. 

“Hmmm, you smell even better than I remember. I do wonder if you still taste the same?” Ghost shudders as his fingers trace her pulse point. She keeps her eyes closed, wondering if it’s all going to be gone when she opens them. He said he wasn’t a hallucination but there was no other explanation. 

Seven months ago she watched as his aircraft exploded right in front of her eyes. He was dead. Search and rescue hadn’t found a body and the wreck of the jet was so badly burnt that they assumed his remains had been turned to ash. 

“Sweetheart, I’m right here. Open your eyes, I promise things will be alright. Don’t you trust me?” 

Taking a shuddering breath, Ghost opens her eyes. He’s so close now, eyes gleaming under the street light. His green irises are nothing like she remembers them. He’s still smiling, but something menacing and dark hiding under the plumpness of his lips. She shivers when she realises what’s wrong as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. His teeth are too pointed. His lips are too red. His eyes are ringed in black. And his skin - 

“There she is. Now, try not to fight, it will be over before you know it. I know I should wait but I can’t. It’s been too long.”

The hand on her throat squeezes and Ghost gasps, hands coming up to claw at his arm. His grip never falters, despite her desperate attempts to get free. 

Ghost gasps his name, desperate for air. His smile widening is the last thing she remembers before darkness claims her. 

“Jake.”

Tag list: @wildbornsiren​ @therebeccaw @imjess-themess @antiquitea @fuckyeahhangman @writercole @hederasgarden @yanna-banana @wkndwlff @bobfloydsbabe @hollandorks @anniesocsandgeneralstore @ereardon @luminousnotmatter @roosterscock @thedroneranger @fandomxpreferences @top-hhun @princessmisery666 @princessphilly @a-reader-and-a-writer @green-socks @angstybluejay @seresinhangmanjake @ayorooster​@notroosterbradshaw​ @indynerdgirl @gigisimsonmars @girl-in-the-chairs-void @bradshawbabes @unhinged-btch @horseshoegirl @sadpetalsstuff @bradshawbaby @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @ummjustfics​ @septemberrie​ @somenamewithepineapple​ @seresinsweetie​​ @crescentwolf​ @seresinhangmanjake​ @sylviebell​ @waklman​ @roosterforme​ @rosiahills22​ @dempy​ @i0veless​ @ilovewriting06​ @genius2050​ please let me know if you want to be added/removed

[pedroschka]

your one of my fave joe writers so here’s some prompts I’d love to see you work your ✨magic✨ on, ignore / do whatever just some ideas👀🙈

[ ] joe and reader going on a date to the aquarium? ✨✨✨

- [ ] I’m sure we’ve all seen that post from spain(?!) where joe brought everyone a round of shots and set a timer… but what about a blurb / imagine of that, but reader doesn’t drink OR OR there’s only one slice of lime/lemon left and two shots 👀👀

- [ ] Single mum reader x joe, in the middle of a date and the sitter calls as there’s an emergency👀👀👀

Dating app dilemma

Joseph Quinn x single!mum reader

A/n: ahh sorry it took me a while but I chose the third one, hope you like it! <3

Swiping left, left, left, hm not so bad...right, left again. Passing weird selfie poses, pictures with their pets...Where you would rather pick the pet, group pictures, pictures without their face on it, or the last category, simply not your type. Dating app dilemma.

Honestly, you didn't even know what you were looking for, after the first few minutes of swiping you knew that a Henry Cavill doppelganger was out of discussion. You just knew that after five years of being single and a growing collection inside your bedside table that it just wasn't enough anymore to soothe the aching feeling, you needed to get laid. You needed skin-to-skin. you needed intimacy with another person and not just five minutes alone with yourself and then rushing to pick up your daughter from school. So dating app it is.

After a little debate with yourself, while creating your profile and the question popping up if you're having children already you decided against it, it shouldn't matter if you were a single mum, it was just sex right? one night and never seeing each other again so why bother. this wasn't about her and you weren't interested in answering questions about her to total strangers. This was all about you.

It's easy to forget about yourself and your own needs when you're busy looking after another tiny human who is fully depending on you and your love and care. But now she's six and just started school, making friends, and rather wants to hang out with them after school and do sleepovers instead of spending her time with her mum. And that's okay. But you forgot how lonely it can get when coming home to an empty house and spending the night alone in your bed without a body to cuddle with.

After another few left swipes, your thump stills over the next profile. Joseph / 28 / actor. You scrolled through his pictures, him casually sitting with friends, drinking. A beany on his head, brown curls peaking out under it, smiling cheekily into the camera. the second with him, on the beach, shirtless, with sunglasses perched on his head and squinting into the camera. A good mixture between ordinary-looking but also hot and sweet British guy. The best one so far. His interests are nothing special though, reading, music, meeting friends, and going to theaters. But good enough to give it a try.

Taking the chance you decided to write him right away, luckily it was Friday so your daughter is gonna be with her friend until Saturday night, which means a nearly full day for you.

" hi, fancy a coffee tomorrow, see how it goes?"

Now it's on him to answer.

Luckily for both of you, you received a match half an hour later and his answer with suggestions for whereabouts and time. Perfect.

---

After getting off the phone with your daughter, just checking in on how it's going you started to make yourself ready for your date, could you even call it a date?

Joe and you agreed on meeting in a cafe luckily just a few walking minutes away from your home and you would lie to yourself if you would say you were not nervous, you couldn't remember when the last time was when you rummaged through your closet, changing your outfit over five times, angry with yourself for not owning anything near sexy, wardrobe full of comfy clothes. Burning yourself on your curling iron because in your head you already were ten steps ahead, rethinking your conversation topics because sadly, you can't have a one-night stand with a total stranger without having to talk to him first. Cleaning your flat, hiding everything that screams "here lives a child", and even making your bed even though you know you have to do it again after (hopefully) having sex in it. You were a mess to put it lightly.

As you arrived you quickly searched over the few guests hoping to still recognize him. A man is sitting in the right corner, sunglasses perched on his head full of tousled brown curls, a brown shirt with the last button ignored, and a necklace around his neck. Yep, that's him.

Walking straight up to him, he eventually lifted his head and after a few seconds he recognised you, a shy smile spreading across his lips as he stood up to greet you with a hug

A bit taken by surprise by this but also relieved that he made the decision for you on how to greet each other. Just the small touch seems to decrease your nerves on a more pleasant level where you don't feel like throwing up any second anymore.

You both sat down across from each other and you felt like you had been thrown back into your last job interview. His big brown eyes meet yours and create the most intense eye contact you only knew from when your daughter was still a newborn and kept staring at you with her big owlish eyes full of curiosity. But instead of melting into a puddle out of pure love you now stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights, trying to think of anything to sell yourself just right but your mind is clouded with anxiety and your fight-or-flight response is kicking in and you're ready to flee.

" So are we ready to order?"

His question is simple but still manage to overwhelm you

"Oh…yeah yeah sure "

Your whole appearance has to come off as very uncomfortable and just miserable because his next words made you look at him horrified

"Oh man, this is not how you imagined this, is it? Am I looking worse in real life?"

"Wha…no of course not! I'm so sorry! I'm not been on a date for a long time, to be honest between the guy with the picture of him and his dog with matching sunglasses and the other guy who asked me if I was more of a cheese or a ham kinda girl you are a jackpot already!" You panic, do you seriously fucked this all up in under five minutes because of your own body language betraying you?

Before you can spiral even more in self-pity you hear a deep cackle, oh he's laughing. it was a joke.

" I feel flattered, that's some serious competition I got here! I'm so glad you chose me!" he touched his chest in fake surprise

You giggled at his silliness, thankful that he was trying to lose up this whole situation and creating a comfortable atmosphere for both of you.

"But really, cheese or ham?" He raised one comical eyebrow, tilting his head a little, and looked at you expectantly making you giggle again

"I'm vegan so neither"

"Oh good to know! What do you usually order instead of normal coffee? Maybe I could give it a try " his entire demeanor changes instantly again, and he looks genuinely interested with his arms on the table, leaning forward.

Surprised by his unbiased reaction, not being used to not having to explain yourself or start a discussion over your chosen lifestyle you give him a grateful smile

" You usually can just ask for any non-dairy milk for your coffee but when I'm feeling extra fancy I like to order a vegan whipped coffee, that's basically just coffee and coconut sugar whisked together until it's super fluffy on top of any non-dairy milk, so it kinda looks like a caramel turd floating around" instantly cringing at your description for it you hide your face behind your hands " I...I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to compare food with poop I'm sorry "

"No, it sounds delicious! I think I'm gonna order the caramel turd " he starts laughing with you, still not taking his eyes off you. Giving you his full undivided attention like you are the only person that matters right now.

You can't remember the last time you laughed so much, Joe surprised you with one silly question or bad joke after another, at one point even imitating accents while reading the dishes on the menu, making you choke on your coffee which ended with him tapping you on the back and handing you a napkin to dry your teary eyes all while still giggling.

Right in the middle of him telling you the random story of how he got the little scar on his forehead you got interrupted by your phone ringing, seeing your friend's name on the display where your daughter is staying right now, You grimaced, signaling him that you're sorry but have to take it.

" What's going on?" You already have a bad feeling about this ,why else would she call

" I'm so sorry to bother but she has thrown up and is feeling a bit sick, I think It would be better if you could pick her up?"

" Yes yes of course" you looked at Joseph, who pretends to not listen to your call and inspected the menu with great interest " give me 20 minutes " at this he locks eyes with you and you could see his disappointment, guilt creeping up inside of you " thank you, bye!" You ended the call, closed your eyes frustrated, and taking a deep breath before looking at Joe again

"I'm so sorry but something really important came up and I really have to go" you're already standing up and collecting your bag, unbelievably uncomfortable and feeling like the rudest person having to cut it all off like this with no explanation for him.

"Oh uhm…yeah ok" he stood up too, looking bummed and equally unsure of how to act now "bye… I guess?"

"But it was really nice meeting you…bye" quickly turning towards the door, leaving Joe standing in front of two unfinished cups of coffee with hanging shoulders and multiple questions swimming around his head, asking himself if he did something wrong, maybe was too intrusive. Did you used one of those fake calls to get away from him? He really thought you both had a great time until now.

—

After taking care of your daughter and putting her in her bed you slumped yourself into the sofa grabbed a pillow beside you and pushed your face into it, muffling your frustrated groan. One date. The first date after five years and you fucked it up.

Deep inside you knew that this wasn't over the missed opportunity of getting laid, maybe it never was and you hoped for a deeper connection again.

Grabbing your phone from the table you searched for Joe's profile, it was just fair to explain yourself to him and apologize again right?! You still could see the hurt and disappointment in his eyes and you just can't handle the guilt.

You open the chat, and after writing, deleting, and writing again you just clicked on send

" Hey again. I feel really bad about how it ended today I had a really great time with you and thought I owe you an explanation at least. I have a six-year-old daughter and she was with her friend but she got sick and threw up so I had to pick her up. sorry for wasting your time ."

There was still a tiny spark of hope that maybe he was still interested and wanted to give this a second chance and even if not, to be mature enough to communicate this with you and not choose the easy way and just ghost you.

You watch in disappointment as the 'online' switched off and you were left on read.

the tiny spark goes out as quickly as a candle in the wind and it hurts, but you refuse to even shed a single tear about him

His lost.

Your disappointment morphed into anger at him and at yourself. What a silly idea to start trusting men again, you saw the last five years that you're fine without them. You should just focus on your daughter again. Why even waste your time going on dates with some arseholes who have the maturity level of your six-year-old, hell even she has more because she wouldn't ghost someone because they have a kid. Fuck him. fuck men.

The notification for a new message instantly forces you out of your empowering "stay single"- motivation speech and enlightens the spark right back as you gawk at his answer, neglecting everything you told yourself just seconds ago.

" So tomorrow, same place, same time? :)"

(reblogs and comments are very appreciated additional to your likes)

[celticcrossanon]

Hi Celta, I hope you don't mind me asking, but I'm very interested to hear your thoughts on the book that Omid ( ably assisted by the Harkles, IMO,). I can't believe it was allowed to be published, honestly. Is there more to it than we realise?

Hope you're feeling better x

Hi NZCarol,

I was feeling a lot better and planning to come back and start blogging again this weekend.

Then I got covid (thank you family members) and now I am a miserable mess.

With respect to the book:-

I believe the writing and structure is dreadful, which explains why his first book had a co-writer.

It is very clearly Meghan and Harry speaking through the author, Meghan moreso than Harry imo (although Harry is by no means blameless).

it is also very clearly an outpouring of spite and hatred against the BRF, specifically the King and the Prince and Princess of Wales. The contents are apparently a repeat of all the gossip from social media, so old news and stale news.

I think the three people involved in writing the book (Harry, Meghan and their mouthpiece) wrote it to vent their spite and hatred, and that it was designed to cause as much trouble for the BRF as possible.

I also think that those three people grossly underestimated the ability of the general public to see through their bullshit and to understand exactly what they are doing.

The only real point of interest that has been picked up by the media is the naming of the so-called royal racists as King Charles and The Princess of Wales, which is a) unbelievable given the named people's past history of behaviour b) clearly an attempt to boost sales and c) not to be believed as that story has changed its details every time it was repeated, right from the start with two version being given in the Oprah interview. With both the author and Meghan being proven liars in court, it is difficult to take anything they say with any degree of veracity.

@emmashouldbewriting has explained that the agents handled the English version rights, but the author themself handled the foreign language rights, which means that the version with the names that was translated was supplied by the author

I think the author saying the names was a mistranslation is a lie. That is not how translation works. I think including the names of the royal racists was deliberate, to boost sales and to cause problems for the BRF. I also think that by blaming the translators the author has done a lot of harm to two innocent people.

I think the book is a targeted and deliberate attack on Charles, William and Catherine, and it is designed to make Charles look like a bad king. I have no idea why someone would write this apart from spite and malice. From the title and the blurbs, the author clearly thought that this book would take down the monarchy and finish it for good, but to do that the book needed several things it is sorely lacking, such as coherence, an organised structure, and truly shocking information about corruption backed up by proof instead of stale gossip that has done the rounds many times before appearing in the book.

I think the book was a definite attempt to undermine and discredit the British Monarchy, I think it has failed, and I think that Harry and Meghan will now scramble to disassociate themselves from the book with more lies, if they have not already done so.

The question now is how will King Charles respond to this collection of obvious hatred. Any reaction will be twisted by the author and Harry and Meghan into more publicity, so there is a case for ignoring it (continuing the grey rocking), but there are also the questions of how far is too far and when do you have to take steps to protect yourself and your family.

By itself, I believe the book is nothing more than an incoherent jumble of opinion mixed with old and tired gossip, seasoned with a liberal does of spite and malice, but it is part of a bigger pattern, one of continual malicious attacks on the BRF by Harry and Meghan. Is it time to shut the couple down for good, and if so, how would you do it so it is both decisive and effective? I think those are the questions facing King Charles and his response with either fix the situation for good or male it much worse.

[deepspacedukat]

Distracted

The writer’s block has been rough the last couple of days. The most I’ve been able to write has been a couple of sentences, so I consider this little diversion a win. I didn’t plan on writing this. It just happened. I used gender neutral pronouns since this is just a quickie fluff drabble. This is not related to my Senator Letant of Romulus series. It’s just a quickie little standalone blurb drabble ficlet thing. Because brain said I was only allowed to write this today. So uh...yep. Enjoy!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Letant (ST:DS9) x Reader

[A/N: This is fluff, and I have nothing constructive to say so...enjoy!]

Warnings: Interspecies kissing, fluff, cuteness.

~*~

Letant was listening to his mate talk about the logistics of growing flowers from all over the galaxy in their garden. The amount of water each needed, the nutrient requirements for the soil, the light requirements, the depth of soil needed for the roots to grow - the Senator’s mate was analyzing the variables thoroughly.

Yet all he could focus on was the way that the light of Romulus’s sun caressed their face and the shape of their lips as they spoke. As the two of them sat at the kitchen table looking through plans, he mused over how this was an inevitable outcome. He cared about what they were saying, truly he did. He wished for the garden to be a private little paradise for them, especially since horticulture was a hobby of theirs. But his mate’s lips entranced him every single time they spoke to him in that beautiful voice of theirs.

Letant knew why, of course. Humans used their mouths for intimacy - something that had amazed him and quickly set his passions alight when they’d kissed him for the first time. Letant had spent many long hours reveling in the simple sensation of mingled lips and shared breath. His lover’s soft sighs and hums against his mouth never failed to make him crave more.

Could he really be blamed for falling under his Human’s spell so completely when they were doing nothing more complex than talking? Surely not.

“It might be best if we swap the Betazed lilies and the Vulcan orchids, especially with their different water requireme–”

Letant wasn’t even conscious of his movements until he found himself leaning across the side of the kitchen table kissing his mate. He’d interrupted their train of thought, but it was worth it for this moment alone. Thoroughly stealing his lover’s breath, he didn’t pull back until he felt the edge of his hunger stirring deep within him.

Smoothing his tunic and resuming his seat, Letant leaned his chin on his palm as he had been before.

“My apologies, e’lev. Do go on. You have my full attention,” he said with a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, but his lover just blinked at him with wide eyes.

“I...uh,” they stammered and struggled to regain their previous composure, but it was in vain. When they tossed their plans aside and tugged him into another kiss, he knew there would be no more talk of the gardens for at least another few hours.

[killuwumi]

a blazing past - diluc (small angst blurb)

a/n: suddenly im a writer of blurbs...queen of blurbville...idk what has come over me. anyway more prompts from pinterest...

warnings: angsty, curse word, mentions of diluc’s past, (beating up fatui so maybe violence but only if you really, really squint. nothing graphic.) not proof read, all lowercase (lazy)

"we all fucking burn in the end."

his brow furrowed as you watched him, looking from a distance as he walked to the dragonspine camp of fatui..is this what he always did when he was angry? isn't that, a bit much? 

his figure got smaller and smaller as you waited by the campfire he had lit for you, right on the outskirts of the sheer cold. you have to wonder what made the man that you see ravaging a camp of strong fatui agents, screams and grunts can be heard even where you are sitting. 

bright red and orange streaks in the sky, a bright contrast to the otherwise hazy and white blanket that covers dragonspine. one last dawn breaks forth before everything stops. the noise, the colors, the thoughts in your head all come to a stand still. 

diluc is walking back, claymore dragging as he wipes it off in the snow, red follows in his path as he pushes his claymore into the soft dirt next to where you sit before sitting down and leaning against it. 

"who taught you that, diluc?" your voice is soft, a calm soothing sound, strangely unafraid of the man who sits next to you. 

"i learned how to fight in my youth, if that is what you are asking." he brushed some of his hair out of his face, as he pulls down his hair and it sits like red waves on his back. the hair tie in his mouth as he re adjusts his ponytail.

you watch him, your hands holding a stick and poking at the fire, it feels a lot like what you're doing right now..poking at a fire. "no, diluc. i mean who taught you to think like that?" 

his hands rested at his sides as he raised his eyebrow, a small look of shock on his face. he can't recall the last person that asked him such a bold question aside from kaeya. 

"i'm not sure, i must've picked it up along the way somewhere. perhaps coping with my past in the only way i know how." his voice is dull, no longer holding the anger from before, but he isn't sad either. he speaks like he is telling you about the weather, and it almost hurts you. to hear a man so revered in mondstadt talk about his past in a monotone, unwavering voice.

a silence falls between you, diluc only looking down at his hand as it rests on the ground beside him, near to yours.

"i apologize for speaking so boldly earlier." your voice waivers as you speak, giving away the guilt you are feeling. as diluc looks up from his hands and to your face, his deep red eyes meeting yours. "it should be me who apologizes, it appears i have worried you and put on quite an animalistic display today. i am deeply sorry." 

diluc watches your actions carefully as he apologizes, you grasp the dirt beneath your fingertips and your brows furrow, it looks almost like you're holding back tears. "please do not worry. i am fine." diluc tries to reassure you, softening his voice. 

you feel so stupid, you shouldn't be crying, why are you the one getting emotional. you weren't even supposed to come on this commission. 

"it is okay to worry people diluc.." is all you can muster to say before curling up into your knees, burying your face. diluc just watches and reassuringly hums an "i know." 

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 1/5

Book Blurb:

An enemies to lovers romance with a spooky twist where two feuding writers end up on a writers retreat together at a haunted castle in Scotland It's been months since horror author Penelope Skinner threw a book at Neil Storm. But he was so infuriating, with his sparkling green eyes and his bestselling horror novels that claimed to break Native stereotypes. And now she’s a publishing pariah and hasn’t been able to write a word since. So when her friend invites her on a too-good-to-be-true writers retreat in a supposedly haunted Scottish castle, she seizes the opportunity. Of course, some things really are too good to be true.

Neil wants nothing less than to be trapped in a castle with the frustratingly adorable woman who threw a book at him. She drew blood! Worse still, she unleashed a serious case of self-doubt! Neil is terrified to write another bestselling “book without a soul,” as Pen called it. All Neil wants is to find inspiration, while completely avoiding her.

But as the retreat begins, Pen and Neil are stunned to find themselves trapped in a real-life ghost story. Even more horrifying, they’re stuck together and a truly shocking (extremely hot) almost-kiss has left them rethinking their feelings, and… maybe they shouldn’t have been enemies at all? But if they can’t stop the ghosts pursuing them, they may never have the chance to find out.

Review:

Two rival authors, one haunted castle retreat, and the unlikely romance between them as they face off against ghosts. Penelope Skinner is an indigenous writer who just hasn't made it yet and she absolutely hates Neil Storm, another indigenous writer who has become a bestseller. She hates that he's as handsome as he is successful, and she absolutely hates that he is a successful indigenous writer while she isn't. Pen hates him so much that she threw a tantrum at his speech and threw a book at his face that left a scar. Neil begins to doubt himself after Pen's argument with him and the book incident... and now months later they both end up at the same writing retreat at a haunted castle in Scotland. As supernatural things begin to happen and Pen and Neil finally face each other, they'll have to find a way to work together if they want to make it out. This book was not for me, I honestly could not stand Pen at all.Pen is manipulative and narcissistic, her jealously toward's Neil was a little unhinged and the fact that she physically assaulted him to the point where she left a scar?? The fact that she, a grown woman, threw a huge tantrum and then threw a book at a guy because he was successful?? Girl be for real. Her relationship with Neil does not feel romantic at all, she's constantly criticizing him and he's constantly apologizing. Honestly if I were him and she did all the things she did to him to me, I would be pressing charges. Pen never really takes accountability for everything she does and I just don't see this being a romance at all. This just didn't work as a romance book for me and I just didn't feel myself caring or loving these characters and their story by the end of it.

Release Date: October 15,2024

Publication/Blog: Ash and Books (ash-and-books.tumblr.com)

*Thanks Netgalley and St. Martin's Press | St. Martin's Griffin for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*