#but if you knew how much research and pattern spotting this takes

[explode-this]

If you struggle with substance use/misuse, please know that there are more options available to you than Alcoholics Anonymous or other 12 step programs. I am not saying this to cast aspersions on AA or other groups of that nature, but to let people know that they are not limited to this one way of thinking. I don’t much care to rely on numbers and statistics to prove or disprove efficacy; I know that for some people AA really gels with them, and that’s fine—if that mode of thinking works for them, it’s what works. What doesn’t work is when struggling, often traumatized people are made to feel like they are broken or “constitutionally incapable” of “working a program.”

I know there’s a kind of taboo about talking about this. Any frank discussion of the 12 step program and movement often results in accusations of “you don’t understand because you’re not a drunk like us” or “you’re not a real alcoholic then” or “your doubt in the program will lead people to die.” First of all, no. We are all human beings, and a lot of us struggle with problems related to the spectrum of dependence and habitual behaviors. A bulimic and a compulsive spender and a gambler and an alcoholic have several key things in common, and it’s not “a disease.” It can be unresolved trauma, or an inability to articulate one’s vulnerabilities, or self-medication. There is no special “alcoholic gene,” though I was often told as a child that when I was an adult, I’d have to “watch myself carefully” because my father had a drinking problem. It is not fair to saddle a child with the expectation that a temporary problem is destined to be a lifelong struggle, or that they will “inherit” their parent’s “disease.” Watching my father struggle with alcohol, and experiencing the way he took his own hurt out on me and my mother, I do not think he was diseased and I do not think that I was destined to become like him. Looking back at him, I see the first child of immigrants who had a lot of pain and anger from a difficult, abusive household and the pressure to fit in with white people while having a distinctly ethnic name. I see a child who grew into a young man who didn’t know how to examine his feelings and took them out on anyone younger and more vulnerable than him—his brother, his daughters. I see a man who never got to know his adult daughter because he never got the help he needed to heal his wounds, because he thought that counseling was weak and resisted any kind of spiritual life beyond listening to the occasional Cliff Richard record. If there was a “disease,” it was because the world he grew up in refused to let men have feelings, refused to let men be small and hurt and vulnerable, that refused to acknowledge that our differences are far outweighed by our similarities.

Second of all, if the commonly suggested solution to ‘addiction’ is a program so fragile that those in it cannot bear to hear criticism, how can it claim to help? You must be able to hear opposition. You must be able to articulate why you are in this place and why it does help you, and you must be able to accept that it is not the only way. I understand the sensitivity of people who are sorting out their lives in a time of crisis, but there seems to be no confidence at all that those people can handle conflicting views. They must split off from people who aren’t “in program” because it might hurt their chances of recovery, even if those people don’t drink; meanwhile, “in program” they are told that if they quit the program or find fault with it, then the alternative is “jail, institutions or death,” still, in this the year of someone else’s lord 2023, from a program whipped up by a guy whose “spiritual awakening” was belladonna, for god’s sake, in the 1930s, before there was television. With a book considered ordained by god, that has only been edited four times in about 90 years, and none of that editing was to take out the chapter “to wives,” which was written by Bill W in the voice of women, with no actual contribution from actual wives of alcoholic men (including his own, who wanted to write the chapter). These are not things that are known necessarily to people who adhere to the program, because looking into it analytically is not encouraged lest it throw the alcoholic all the way to rock bottom. Except that “rock bottom” is the thing that qualifies someone for help. If the disease metaphor actually held true—as it is often held up against cancer as an example of a the kind of illness it is—then this is the equivalent of waiting until stage four cancer to bother getting chemo. And calling oneself an alcoholic for the rest of one’s life, regardless of whether they are drinking or not, is like going back for chemo every week after you’re in remission. It never allows the ability to heal. It doesn’t allow the person with a problem to ever be free of it—they must cage themselves in with it, and the fear of relapse, and stay in a very tight mental space so they never have to learn to intuit things for themselves or trust that they can be upright in the world on their own power, because those first three steps are all about divesting the individual of their power. Sometimes this manifests as not taking responsibility for what the “disease” made them do—and sometimes it’s a lifelong shroud of guilt and a permanent sense of fallibility. There is no interest in moving past the “solution”; it becomes a different kind of mire than that of alcoholism or gambling or sex or whatever you struggle with. This comes with thought stopping cliches like “better addicted to this than the alternative” or “maybe my brain needed washing.” This is, frankly, madness.

The TL;DR here is that if you don’t want to relegate yourself to this life but still get help, you can. Please consider:

- SMART Recovery

- The Freedom Model

- The Satanic Temple Sober Faction

- the works of Dr. Lance Dodes and Dr. Gabor Mate

- opening up to people who don’t struggle like you do; their perspective is also valuable

Yes, AA is free. Yes, it has been around “forever.” But it is also unregulated, run by a board that remains politically neutral (because the problem by their definition is an individual one, not one where systemic injustice and other issues contribute), and has no kind of reportage for individual chapters nor the sponsors who can do and say whatever they like, because there is no training, no discussion of how to handle trauma, no way to vet the person who has decided to take you under their wing. Seek out voices who oppose AA, even if you do think it’s the way for you—those who were in it for years and can talk at length about the traumatic experiences are worthwhile sources for deciding what is right for you. I really like Tara Grace at UnRecovering with Tara Grace—she speaks frankly about her life and why AA was harmful for her.

You are not “constitutionally incapable of being honest with yourself” if AA doesn’t work for you. It just may not work for you. The phrase “it works if you work it” is an empty tautology that puts the onus on you to do things that may not make any sense to you based on other variables like neuroatypicality (ask an AuDHD person if Al-Anon made sense. That’s me, and no, it didn’t) and then blames you for it if you can’t “get it.” Consider this: a light switch works if you work it. Working it in this case involves flipping the switch. You can flip that switch all day long and it’s “working” the light. But if the lightbulb burns out and you have no idea where the other lightbulbs are, or don’t have a ladder to reach and replace it, then no amount of flipping the switch will make it work.

To end: if it does work for you, that’s fine. But it does not work for all, and if you can’t respect that—or you continue to proselytize as the 12th step implores you to do—then you are pushing a limited scope on people who actually need human connection without condition, not a “one-size fits all” structure that falls apart upon the least amount of scrutiny.

[urlovebot]

cw: perv!sunghoon. sunghoon does your laundry so: panty sniffing.. and licking, possessiveness, exhibitionism, praise, overstim, hands free orgasm again (?), dry humping but solo (???), sunghoon creams his pants twice lmfaoooo what a loser.

a/n: nastiest thing i've ever written so if it isn't for you, i get it 😭

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sunghoon knows its wrong. he knows its gross, a little fucked up but he can't help it. especially not when you ask him to wash your laundry with his to save on some money.

he couldnt help but dig through your pile, searching desperately for it and- oh! he's found it.

a worn pair of your panties. they're different than he imagined. he's spent hours thinking about it before. he thought they'd be plain, no lace, no pattern. multiple pairs but not alot of difference in color. mainly ones that match your skin tone. you wear alot of light clothing and he sees nothing when his eyes scan your body, spending more time on your ass than anything else. he knows that you dont wear low rise anything so they must be high cut? maybe hipsters? he's sure its nothing out of vanilla for you.

so why would you own a pair of white, bikini shaped, lace trim panties? this soils the picture he had of you in his head. all of his research- all of this knowledge he had of you.

he inspects the garment in his hand. this can't be yours right? sunghoon brings the thin, thin piece of clothing to his nose. it's definitely yours. he can smell the faint scent of your body wash on them.

now he's upset; nearly distraught. why would you own a pair of panties like this? who would you need to impress-

were you fucking other men? were you- sunghoons stomach drops- were you letting them taint you? a different, even more devastating thought springs forward and sunghoon is nauseous. are you not a virgin?

the sadness fades and is replaced by wild, unadulterated anger. his fist closes around the flimsy cloth. god hes upset, frustrated nearly to tears but never at you. never at you. you could never do wrong, his perfect angel. his pretty princess would never do wrong. he knows this, but he's got to take action. do something to solve this issue, make you clean again.

sunghoon brings the panties up to his nose and lets out a whimper at the scent, its tangy but theres a hint of sweetness. fuck, he's hard now. he palms the outline of his cock through his sweats; you smell so good. he knew it, knew that you'd smell good. he tracks what you eat, when you eat it, how you eat it. he makes sure to prepare good, balanced meals for you. he buys you all of your multi-vitamins, tracks the amount of water you drink to make sure you're never dehydrated. he knew you'd smell good, he made it that way.

he feels his cock leak into his underwear. he knows its wrong, knows its fucked up and dirty, but he does it anyway. his tongue pokes out to lick the center of your panties- oh. oh. his eyes roll to the back of his head. it tastes- no, no. you taste good. he feels precum dribble out of his cock and now he feels his underwear get a little damp.

he presses his palm harder against his crotch and takes another, more confident lick at the spot where your pretty pussy would've laid and now he's whining and humping into his hand like a fucking dog. he stumbles at the sensation and catches himself on a washer and he's reminded that this is a public laundromat on campus. a more secluded one, but public nonetheless. the thought of someone catching him makes his head spin.

everyone knew you were roommates. you were so, so popular amongst your peers. so sweet and kind, a smile that lights up a room, an infectious, contagious giggle. and sunghoon, who was so, so handsome but as much as he was handsome, he was shy. didn't talk much to anyone. except for you. he'd stroll with you as you bounced next to him, talking about your day as you both walked back to your dorm.

what better way to claim you than for someone to walk in and see him fucking himself and holding your panties up to his face. the thought turns him on so much that he squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a strangled moan.

god he needs it. he needs to fuck you in front of the whole campus. all of those men that violated your princess parts- he needs them to watch as he stuffs his girthy length into your pussy. he wants them to watch as he stretches you out. he's sure you'd struggle against him as what he had in girth he also had in length, but he knows you'd like it. he knows you'd love being filled up by him. by him.

he's so fucking mad. how could they? he slams the fist holding your panties on the washer as he continues to fuck and grind into his hand.

fuck those men that defiled you. fuck them for touching you that way, putting their filthy hands on your precious body. he'd fix that. cleanse you. cum all over your pretty frame, cover you in it. your face, your tits, cum on and in your tight little cunt. he prays you'd let him fuck your ass too so he could fill that up as well- shit.

he feels it coming. he feels the onslaught of pleasure start to pour into his body. he wants to hold off- wants to hold his cum until he can spill it inside of you but he cant. he's gonna cream his pants like hes a teenager again.

he laps at your panties again and he cant wait to taste your pussy. he can't wait until he can eat you out for hours, have you cum on his tongue over and over and- oh-

his eyes squeeze shut again and he bites his lip to try and conceal his moans. he can't tell if its working though, his ears are ringing and the only thing he can think of is roughly humping his hand to get off.

he whines and whines and whines as he feels himself let go, ropes of cum seeping through his underwear. its spurt after spurt and now his hand is wet and its starting to stain his sweats but he cant stop. his cock has a mind of its own, twitching and jumping and fuck- he's so sensitive.

he stops cumming, stops shooting his load into his underwear. he whimpers and removes his hand from his pants but his hips are still stuttering against nothing.

god he wants to feel it. he wants to know how it'll feel when he slides his cock into your warm, tight, wet cunt. he wants to feel his balls slap against your ass from how hard he's fucking you. he wants to feel your pussy gush around him, cover his cock and balls in your juices. he hopes he can make you squirt so you can drench him in you and- no. no no no-

sunghoons knees knock together as he feels himself cum in his pants again and he might actually pass out this time. its dry, nothings coming out but he feels euphoric. his hips fuck into the air and its so fucking gross, he feels so gross and so dirty but its only for you. only for his pretty princess.

[mydearzero]

Prey | Professor!Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

PART 2

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You were determined to stay collected and have your professor make the first move. To make him believe he's the one desperate for you. He's onto you though. He knows what you want, what you need. And he's going to give it to you.

Warnings: Professor!Spencer, fem!Reader, Teacher/student relationship, age gap, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), NO Y/N, fingering, praise kink, degradation, dacryphilia, humiliation, semi-public sex, rough sex, creampie, choking, aftercare. If I missed any warnings please tell me!

3.9K words

Criminology wasn't the first class you'd voluntarily take. It was interesting enough, really. But not at all necessary for your degree. 

You loved true crime as much as the next college-aged girl. That's what your excuse would be, at least, when people would inevitably ask why the hell you signed up for the class. But the real reason? 

You'd seen him on campus a couple times, only a semester ago. His jagged yet put-together exterior intrigued you. His eyes met yours, if only for a split second. He was perceptive. Very perceptive.

The third time you saw him meeting with the dean, you knew you were hooked. You felt yourself mouth the syllables of his name. Heard the sound falling off your lips in a whispered tone as you overheard him introduce himself to the Criminal Law professor. 

Doctor Spencer Reid. 

You'd done your research, as any self-respecting student would. He was an FBI agent working for the Behavioral Analysis Unit. He was a proper genius with several degrees under his belt, even when he was your age. 

He wasn't anymore, your age.

A notice got posted on the college's website a few days after your last sighting. Doctor Spencer Reid of the FBI would teach several seminars this semester, with voluntary attendance and limited availability. 

You signed up in a heartbeat. You told yourself it was because he was an enigma, a puzzle for you to solve. His posture, eyes and even how he spoke screamed 'Solve me!' You, someone notorious for your ability to read people, couldn't figure him out. It frustrated you. Everything about him invited you to try and peel back the layers to let you see inside. 

Were you maybe a tad too obsessed with the man without ever having spoken to him? Obviously, but you couldn't help yourself. You loved a good mystery. And this was one gorgeous mystery. 

You tried to be deliberate about everything when you entered the first seminar. Don't spare the professor a second glance, but be genuinely interested. Don't hang off every word falling from his lips but raise your hand often enough to appear engaged. You wanted him to be the one to notice you first, even if it was anything but the truth. 

But Professor Reid was a professor in his field for a good reason. He caught your calculated gaze a few times. Watched as you schooled your expression to perfection. Spencer had to admit, you were good. But he was better. He noticed how your stare dropped to his hands as he moved them while speaking. Noticed how the pattern of your breathing was unnatural. If his hearing was superhuman, he would've heard your heart beat irregularly. 

You could seek control of the situation as much as you wanted, but your body would betray you time and time again. Spencer thrived in this little cat-and-mouse game you'd tried to set him up for. He knew you'd convinced yourself you were the cat, calculated, ready to pounce. He smiled to himself at the comparison. If only you knew you were the mouse in this situation, insignificant and small under his watchful eye. Something for him to feast on.

He'd seen you that day; the first time he was on campus. Captured your observant eye with amusement simmering in his mind. He knew who you were, and why you were here, the second you walked into the classroom. You'd tried to appear confident, sure of yourself, by walking to a spot near the front without sparing anybody around you a second glance. But Spencer saw it for what it was. A nervous but powerful stride of a girl begging for a grain of validation. 

It had been brought to his attention that several girls in the class were only auditing, but not you. You were here for the real deal. You were committed to figuring him out. He could see it in the way your eyes raked over his body, reading his body language with every syllable spoken. You were genuinely interested in the subject matter, even if it was only to listen to him explain it.

He was flattered, really. Although your interest in the professor might've started as superficial as the other girls', he could see himself in the way you lost yourself in the infatuation. It wasn't just his looks that pulled you into his orbit. You were intrinsically aware of the grief, trauma and heartache he'd built up over the years. You were dying to be a part of the gravity that shaped him. 

He could see how you had the power to mould people when you had your claws in them. Though, he wasn't sure it was a conscious ability you possessed. Maybe it was just who you were. You had a need for control in every sense of the word. And God, did he want to take it away from you. 

If he didn't know any better, he'd be afraid you'd commit a string of murders if only it meant he would have to read into it. Consider every detail of the crime scene so he'd have to figure you out. It was admirable; your passion for complete dominance. But you couldn't fool Spencer. 

He saw the way you crossed your arms, bit the skin on your lips until they bled, and picked at the skin around your nails, not quite bringing them up to your mouth to bite them, knowing it would convey insecurity. You were an insecure little girl, convincing yourself of the opposite. 

Your need to understand him and domineer every situation was likely a defence mechanism, but he couldn't judge. Not when your little game got him right where you wanted him. Spencer had to applaud your dedication. The anticipation kept him on his toes every time he set foot on campus. He knew you wanted him to break, to make the first move, and he just might have to if he wanted to rid himself of the everlasting tension that seemed to have taken over his body. 

Fine. Spencer would play your little game if that's what you wanted. 

He saw you getting more confident, convinced he was falling into your trap the second he gave in. How the corners of your lips curled up ever so slightly when his gaze lingered on them. You were so caught up in your success that you failed to notice every action was premeditated on his part. It was only inevitable your eyes would light up with glee and triumph when he requested you to meet him in his office after class. 

You knocked on his door tentatively, trying to slow your racing heart. 

"Come in." Spencer's voice carried through the door. You turned the handle and stepped inside the dimly lit office. 

"You wanted to see me, Professor Reid?" You spoke as your hand lingered on the door, a calculated move to come across as unsure. It was a complete 180 of your usual behaviour in class, but it was a surefire way to let him let you in. You were no threat. 

If only you knew how true that was. 

"Yes, close the door and have a seat, please." Spencer motioned to the chair across from him. You nodded and closed the door quietly before pulling the chair out and sitting down. 

"I would like to discuss your paper with you if you don't mind." Spencer held up the printed copy he insisted everybody hand in. You scoffed when you read the specifications of the assignment. Figures he'd be old school. 

"That's fine. Is there something wrong, Professor?" You batted your eyelashes the way you knew no man could resist. The act of the meek, helpless deer. 

"There's nothing wrong with it, necessarily. I would simply like to discuss the subject matter with you. You sure picked an interesting topic." Spencer leaned against the back of his chair and interlocked his fingers as he saw you smile. 

"What can I say? Your job intrigued me. Though, as I'm sure you could tell from my essay, I can't say I completely agree with the logic behind it." You gave him a small smile to let him know you weren't antagonising but stood behind your choices. 

"Some critiques definitely can be taken into account. But it's been proven time and time again, with every case we solve through behavioural analysis, that the science and logic behind it work. Sure, we can be wrong, even way off. But it's a rare occasion." His eyebrows raised in challenge as he spoke. A small smile threatened to appear on his face as he awaited your answer.

You squinted at his apparent amusement. He wasn't taking you seriously. He knew he'd cracked you when your facade dropped. You looked genuinely offended at his lack of interest in your opinion. He almost wanted to laugh at how easy it turned out to be, to get you to drop the act. 

"Don't look so smug, Professor. It's not a good look on you." You jabbed. You cursed at yourself. That wasn't an argument. You crossed your arms as you leaned back in the chair, never breaking eye contact. 

"I must say, I'm kind of disappointed in you. You seemed to have a great grasp on the subject matter while in class, yet you failed one of the biggest requirements of the assignment." 

You frowned at his words, genuinely confused. You egged him to continue talking. 

"You see, the main requirement was to stay objective. This essay was anything but. I guess I misjudged you. I assumed you were above letting your personal opinions and vendettas get in the way of your academics. Apparently not." Spencer tsked. He was taunting you. 

"How was my essay subjective?" You asked. The more you thought back to it, the more you realized how tainted the words on the pages in his hands were by your disdain for your attraction to him. 

You hated him for making you feel the way you did, and you hadn't even realized it until now. 

"I expected factual work. The only fact I can get from this essay is that you're driving yourself crazy with how much you want me to fuck you." 

You gaped at his vulgar words. 

Hook.

"Don't look so scandalized. You knew what you were getting into when you signed up for my class. You made your bed. Now lie in it." Spencer leaned forward and placed his elbows on his desk, crossing his fingers once again. 

"I think you're full of shit, Spencer Reid." You sneered. 

Line.

"I'm sure you do, sweetheart. And it's Doctor or Professor. I'm not picky." He had the gall to laugh. 

"Profile me then, professor. If you're so damn sure of yourself." You rolled your eyes but looked at him expectantly. 

Sinker. 

"Stand up, lock the door." He instructed. You did as he asked with no rebuttal. He raised from his chair and walked around the desk. You followed him closely with your eyes, unable to predict his next steps. 

He placed a singular finger under your chin and lifted it to make you look up at him. "Good girl." He whispered with intent. You tried to give no outward reaction to the words, but as Spencer had come to predict, your body betrayed you. Goosebumps raced down your crossed arms, and your breathing hitched, even if only slightly. 

You didn't break eye contact, to Spencer's amusement. You really should've known better. 

"You want me to profile you? Sure. In your essay, you kept mentioning speculation. But, you see, it's not speculation. It's deduction. You would've known and been able to differentiate the two if you weren't so busy rubbing your thighs and biting your lips in my class." His words were accompanied by his thumb coming up to your mouth, running it over the chewed-up skin of your bottom lip. 

"You want to know what else I deduced just now?" He didn't wait for your reply as he brought his face closer to yours, leaning in to whisper in your ear. 

"I think you like being called a good girl. But not because of the validation... No... It's the implication that turns you on." His breath scalded the delicate skin of your neck as he spoke. 

You urged him to continue with your silence, breath stuck in your throat. 

"You see, most girls like you like being called a good girl because they lack external male validation. They're desperate to hear those words from anyone. Not you, though... No..." Spencer laughed before continuing. 

"You like it because it implies a level of authority. You love hearing it, especially from me, because it implies that I have the authority to decide for you what you are. And you wanna know what I think?" He leaned back a little to be able to look you in your wide eyes. He traced his finger over your jaw. 

"I think you're a little whore. You don't want someone to validate you. You need someone to completely dominate you." He grabbed your chin forcefully. A soft whimper left your lips before you could stop it. 

"Your pupils are dilated, your skin is flushed, and you're barely breathing. That's how I know I'm right. And I'm not speculating, darling." The alarmed look you gave him did nothing to deter him. 

"Get on your knees." He demanded as he let go of your chin. You did so without question. You looked up at him expectantly, heart beating in your throat. 

"Looks like I finally found a way to shut you up. Though, I can think of other ways. You're going to address me as 'Sir' from now on. You won't speak unless spoken to. Am I clear?" 

You nodded quickly, spreading your legs to alleviate the pressure quickly building. Spencer raised an eyebrow before putting his shoe between your thighs, putting even more pressure than before. 

"I asked. Am. I. Clear?" 

"Yes!" You yelped. A smile that could only be described as devilish made itself apparent on your professor's face. 

"Yes, what?" He asked as he pushed the point of his shoe further between your thighs. 

"Yes, Sir." You all but moaned as you tried to hold yourself up, keeping your back as straight as it would allow you. 

"Good girl." He said the riveting words. 

You expected him to pull his pants down and force your mouth on him, but he did no such thing. 

"You're gonna make yourself cum on my shoe. You better not make any noise." He instructed. 

"Yes, Sir." You mumbled as you slowly started grinding against him. You felt your cheeks get redder and redder in embarrassment. You were mortified at the realization that the humiliated feeling only added to the ease of your grinding, getting wetter and wetter. Your underwear was no longer doing much to keep his shoe clean. 

You looked up at Spencer, who looked unaffected. He put his hands in his pockets and sighed as if the current situation was nothing but an inconvenience to him. You slowly put your arms around his leg as you moved closer to him. 

Soft whines left your mouth as you felt yourself getting closer. You'd never felt as conflicted before. So incredibly turned on, yet so embarrassed to be basically humping his leg. 

Suddenly, Spencer ripped his leg away. You lost your support and fell flat on the floor in front of his feet. "That's enough." 

"I thought you said I had to make myself cum, Sir?" You could hear you sounded as desperate as you probably looked. 

"And I decided I'm not going to let you. Now, who said you could speak?" You quickly closed your mouth. "That's what I thought." 

He gripped your upper arm harshly and hoisted you off the floor. You dared to peek at the shoe that had just now been your seat and were embarrassed to find it reflecting the light, unlike its matte counterpart. 

Your legs wobbled as Spencer guided you to his desk. It was only now you realized the shutters weren't completely shut, light from the hallway shining down on your face as he pushed it down against the mahogany when he bent you over at the waist. Spencer followed your gaze. 

"I guess you'll really have to be quiet, baby. My office hours start in less than an hour." You met his eyes with your own panicked ones. Anybody who did as much as try and look inside past the shutters would see you bent over his desk. He brushed your hair out of your face before flipping your skirt up and examining the sight before him. 

"You soaked right through those panties of yours. Better take 'em off." He said as he hooked his fingers under them and pulled them down. You stepped out of them to the best of your ability.

Spencer picked them up, and gave them a short whiff, before walking around his desk. You didn't dare move but followed him with your eyes, confused. He looked at you as he unlocked a drawer, put them inside, and locked it again. You weren't getting those back. 

He walked back around and admired the sight for a little before he unexpectantly gave your ass a harsh smack. You closed your eyes tightly as you felt yourself get wetter at the stinging sensation it left behind. 

You jumped as he pushed two fingers inside without preparation. He placed his other hand on your back to push you back down against the desk. His eyes were warning you to stay still as he moved his finger expertly inside you. He brought his thumb to your clit, and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from making any noise. The circumstances from before had ensured you were nearing the edge concerningly fast. 

When Spencer sped up, you brought a hand to your mouth to muffle any noise. You felt your eyes tear up at the intensity of the sensation, so you squeezed them closed. Just as you were about to fall over the edge, Spencer stepped away. His weight against you was what was keeping you up. You felt your knees buckle as a desperate cry left your lips. 

"Please, Spencer. Please." 

He looked furious as he grabbed your shoulders, turning you around and pushing you back on the desk. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. He pushed your shirt up, exposing more skin to him. He tugged your bra down, not bothering to unclasp it. He tugged roughly at your nipples, making you keen, and the tears finally spill from your eyes. 

"Not so tough now, huh?" He mumbled as he undid his belt with one hand. The other was still pawing at your crudely exposed breasts. He didn't bother properly pulling his pants down, only taking his cock out of its confines. You imagined you looked downright filthy compared to how composed the man in front of you still managed to appear. There was a stain on his pants from where your crotch had met his, but other than that, he was pristine. 

He gave his cock a few tugs before lining himself up, grabbing your thighs and pushing inside. You couldn't contain the guttural groan that escaped you as the strength of his thrust forced your head off the desk, hanging over the edge. He didn't care as he started pounding away, using his grip on your thighs as leverage. 

You could barely breathe, the angle of your neck not allowing much air to flow. Your ears started to ring as blood pooled in your head, making you dizzy as Spencer kept his brutal pace. You tried gripping his arms to pull yourself back up before you passed out, but hardly to any avail. Spencer noticed your struggle and pulled your head back on the desk. The blood rushing back down, along with a particularly harsh thrust, had you moaning his name. 

You heard his haggard breath as he continued filling you again and again. The sensation of him inside you drove you crazy, the tears from earlier still fresh on your cheeks. Low groans fell from Spencer's lips when one of his hands moved to your clit, rubbing rough circles. 

Just as you'd recovered from your little upside-down stint, Spencer brought the hand still resting on your thigh up to your throat, reclaiming your ability to breathe freely. He squeezed in the exact right spot. Your hands moved to his wrist, not to get him to stop, but as leverage. 

"You look so good like this, like a slut for your Professor. Crying on my cock while I decide if you get to breathe." You moaned as your nails dug harshly into his wrist. You were slowly getting lightheaded again. 

"You're gonna cum on my cock when I tell you to." He spoke through the sound of skin hitting skin. His voice was strained, low moans reaching your ears.

"Yes, Sir." You struggled to get the words out. 

"Good girl," Spencer said once more, giving a few more intentional thrusts deep inside you. A noise that could only be classified as a scream bubbles straight out of your chest when he hit the right spot over and over and over again. He finally released the hold on your neck. 

"Cum." The demand had barely reached your ears as your vision went white. You felt his hips stutter against your own, shooting his load in tandem with your own orgasm. 

He slowly pulled out and admired the sight of you still trying to recover, legs wide open, dripping with his cum on his desk. 

You were on the edge of hyperventilating, all the sensations overwhelming you. Spencer slowly helped you sit up, careful to not let your privates touch the harsh wood of the desk. You let yourself fall against his chest as he held you up.

"Hey, hey. You're okay. Come on, look at me." He spoke softly, in complete contrast to just mere minutes ago. You met his eyes, which had softened tremendously. 

"I'm sorry if I was too harsh on you." He quietly apologized, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks. 

You shook your head. "No, no... You were right. That was exactly what I needed, I suppose. Good profiler." You chuckled emptily. 

Spencer stifled a laugh as he wrapped his arms around you. "Next time, you can just ask for what you want, okay? No more of this little game." 

"It was fun, though. Guess I underestimated you, Sir." 

Spencer groaned at the title. 

"Too soon, baby girl. Maybe clean yourself up before going there again." 

You winced as you felt a trickle of his cum down your leg. 

"Yeah, maybe." You grimaced. You were going to be sore for the next week.

He lifted your face to his, the action feeling a lot less domineering. His eyes were gentle as he slowly leaned in, placing a delicate kiss on your lips. 

"You'll still need to rewrite that essay." He muttered as he pulled away. 

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, hitting his shoulder lightly before giving him a peck. "Sure thing, Professor." 

PART 2

[helpimhyperfixating]

Wedding - Jotaro x Reader

This was a commission requested by @worldsetfree !

Thank you so so much, love, for your patience with me and for commissioning me in the first place ^^ I had a lot of fun with this!

CW: none

This is a post p6, happy ending au. Because dadtaro yes :3

Word Count: 3855

“What’s going on, love?” You ask softly as you reach up, straightening Jotaro’s tie. He’d just earlier come home from a long day at the office, writing on his newest research paper. Right now though, he was fresh out of the shower and getting dressed in fancy wear.

“I have a gut feeling.” The man mumbled, looking down at you. His hair was still a little damp, one stubborn curl draped across his brow while his hat was laying to the side on the dresser – the usual purple one replaced with a black one to match his suit, decorated with silver emblems for some more subtlety.

“About what? Jolyne asked us out to dinner. You were saying recently how you barely see her anymore, I thought you’d like this?” You questioned and Jotaro sighed softly, taking your hands away from his tie as he instead brought them down, squeezing a little as he instead looked over your head, seemingly trying to find the right words.

“It feels too sudden. Forced.”

Smiling a little sympathetically, you turned your hand around in his hold, squeezing his hand back to get his attention back on you. “Jolyne asked us to come. So we come. It’s dinner with her and some of her friends. Don’t you think that after everything she’s been through, she deserves a night out to a fancy place?”

“She does, but-“

“-No buts.” You interrupted him, making him frown a bit. “Jotaro, it’ll be fine. If anything, having us two there puts her in a safer position than when she’s alone.”

“Good grief, you’re insistent.” He sighed, though you saw the small quirk of his lip and smiled back.

“Good. That’s what you have me for. Now come on, let’s blow-dry your hair and go. We don’t want to be late.”

“Fine. So long as Anasui isn’t there.”

- - - -

Sitting at the restaurant, Jotaro had his arms firmly crossed over his chest, his hat casting his eyes into shadows as he scowled, almost brooding as he sat next to Anasui.

The pink-haired man – to his credit – kept his composure, holding a face of indifference as best as he could as he looked anywhere but the annoyed man right beside him at the table.

Sitting next to your husband, you couldn’t help but struggle to keep your smile down.

Jotaro looked downright pissy.

Sitting at the table, Jolyne sat to your left at the head, Ermes next to her (and opposite to you) and followed by Emporio and Foo Fighters, with Weather Report finishing up the crew, sitting at the head of the table opposite of Jolyne.

It was a positively merry band.

A little while ago, the drinks and entrees had been ordered, Jotaro already halfway through his beer.

“Dad, how’s the paper going?”

Pulled out of his brooding, Jotaro lifted his head, glancing to his daughter. “It’s going well.” He responded and you smiled to yourself, seeing the man’s sour expression soften the moment he laid his eyes on the green-haired girl. Or- woman, now. She wasn’t your little girl anymore. A thought that stung, though you kept it to yourself.

“What was it about again?”

“Blue whale migratory patterns.” Jotaro cleared his throat, always a little embarrassed to speak about his work.

“Oh, I hear they’re rare to be sighted!” Emporio spoke up, ever curious.

Jotaro nodded, crossing his ankles under the table. “Indeed, due to whaling in the last century their numbers drastically decreased. It’s been banned since 1966 but they’re still an endangered species.”

“So how’d you find them?” The now thirteen year old boy asked.

Jotaro’s lip quirked up before he answered while angling his hat’s brim down. “By knowing where to look.”

You knew your husband had a soft spot for the kid. In fact, the two of you had offered to take him in, but Jolyne had declined, saying she and Ermes could do that since they lived together. And neither of you protested, given Emporio and Jolyne in particular had a bond that could not be shattered.

“How’s the job, Jolyne?” You asked instead, lifting your glass to take a sip of your drink.

At that, Jolyne smiled. “It’s going well! I got some designs approved finally and have started making them.”

“You should see some of them, they’re incredible!” Ermes butted in, placing her hand on Jolyne’s thigh, making the girl blush as she glanced off to the side – a trait she got from you.

To his right, Jotaro saw Anasui glare daggers at Ermes, making the raven shift forward in his seat, blocking Anasui’s stare with his frame while giving a scrutinizing look of his own to the man in pink.

Seeing it, Anasui swallowed bitterly, crossing his arms and just letting it go. He knew he couldn’t beat Jotaro, no matter what happened.

“Oh! Do you have some pictures, Jolyne?!” Foo Fighters piped up excitedly, leaning on the table with both her forearms.

At that, both Jolyne and Ermes shared a look. Tilting your head in intrigue, you studied the two young women. There was excitement in their eyes, as well as slight nervousness in Jolyne.

“Sure.” Jolyne then hummed to her friend, nudging Ermes, who picked her bag up off of the floor, digging through until she pulled out a camera.

Before she could show anything however, waiters came up with the entrees, putting them down one by one in front of the right people.

Again, you saw the two women to your left touch, their hands intertwining under the table.

Perceptive as ever, Jotaro noticed too – the two of you sharing an inquisitive glance. There was something going on with them.

“So, show me what you’ve been up to, miss fashion designer.” You smiled, reaching over and gently squeezing Jolyne’s elbow.

“Okay, mom.” The girl smiled, taking the camera from Ermes, turning it on and flicking through a few pictures before handing it over to you.

Taking it happily, you shifted a little closer to Jotaro, pushing the camera’s strap to the side as you saw a picture of a slim fitting coral patterned dress sit on a mannequin. Jotaro leaned into your space, the two of you looking over at the small screen together, as you tilted it so that he could view it as well. “Oh wow, that looks so detailed!” You complimented.

“There’s some more pictures if you press the arrows right.” Jolyne instructed and you followed her word, moving your thumb to click the arrow.

The screen shifted to a new picture and your eyes widened as you felt Jotaro grip your hip tight, his breath faltering a bit.

Right there on the screen was a photo of Jolyne and Ermes on the beach, Ermes down on one knee, a small but ever so prominent box in her hands.

Snapping your head up to your daughter, you saw her with a wide grin on her face, her eyes a little misty as she lifted her hand, showing a beautiful yet simple ring sitting on her ring finger.

“You’re engaged?” You asked, in disbelief though quickly, a warmth filled your heart as you saw both women nod.

“No way!” Foo yelled out, almost throwing herself onto the table to look closer at the ring, Jolyne easily obliging. Emporio had the widest smile on his face, having already known and Weather Report held an unusual but calm smile on his face.

To your right however, you suddenly heard a chair screech, followed by a loud clang.

Anasui had abruptly risen to his feet, rage in his eyes as he stabbed his knife into the wooden table next to his plate.

Before he could say or do anything however, Jotaro had snapped his hand around the man’s elbow, tightly squeezing as he yanked Anasui back down into his seat.

“You shut up and smile.” He spoke, voice low as he glared at Anasui, a silent rage emanating from him that you hadn’t seen in quite some time.

“I won’t sit here and-“

“Then you won’t sit here!” Jotaro interrupted, yanking his arm before abruptly getting up himself, dragging Anasui with him to his feet.

Angry, a shimmering aura of a stand began to grow around Anasui, but Jotaro retaliated instantly, a familiar purple beginning to emanate around it.

“Think very carefully about what you’re going to do.” He spoke threateningly. Yet when Anasui just grit his teeth, glaring daggers at Ermes, the raven tightened his grip on his elbow and began to drag the pink-haired man out of the restaurant.

“I’ll make sure he makes it out alive.” Weather Report sighed as he got up. “Congratulations Ermes, Jolyne.” He said, giving another little smile before following the marine biologist and his impromptu charge.

Now you knew why Jolyne had made Jotaro sit next to Anasui.

Sighing softly, you then turned to your daughter, reaching out to grab her hand, reaching over to grab Ermes’ a second later. “I’m so happy for you two.” You whispered, tears in your eyes, which in turn caused Jolyne’s to fill as well. “I speak for both your father and myself when I say that I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. You’ve been through so much. The both of you have. And I’m so happy to see you find solace in each other.”

At that, the two glanced at each other, Ermes reaching out and linking her free hand with Jolyne’s.

“Ermes?” You said her name and she turned, looking at you. “I couldn’t be happier to have you join our family. And you will always have a family in us.” You whispered. At that, you almost physically saw the lump form in her throat as she then nodded with a shy smile.

Smiling wide, you had to keep back your emotions as you then got up, starting to drag both out of their seats. Dragging Jolyne into a hug, she happily joined, Ermes stepping up a second later, joining in on your insistence as you hugged both women tight.

“Congratulations.”

Pulling back, Jolyne smiled at you, blinking away tears. “Thank you, mom.” She whispered and you reached up, thumbing away the beginning tear in the corner of her eye, saving her makeup.

“I’m so excited!” Foo suddenly exclaimed, pulling Emporio close into a hug, the boy tensing up and frowning a bit, his growing age making him more averse to affection – like most teenage boys – making you chuckle a bit.

Just then, Jotaro and Weather Report came walking back in, Jotaro shaking his hand out a bit while Weather walked a bit more casual.

Yet as the raven walked up, seeing you all on your feet, he softened. Especially when Jolyne broke away from you and rushed up to him.

Without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms, burying his face into her shoulder as he hugged her tight. You watched as he spoke a few words – too quiet to hear – but it resulted in Jolyne holding him tighter.

The two embraced for a few seconds longer while Weather Report took his place at the table again. Then, they pulled apart, Jotaro taking off his hat for a brief second to press a short kiss to his daughter’s forehead, just like he used to when she was a little kid.

Walking over a moment later, he walked up to Ermes, tightly shaking her hand. “Treat her well.” He muttered and Ermes hummed, a bit of a cocky smile on her face.

“Wouldn’t do anything else. Pink baby give you much trouble?”

“He asked to pass on his congratulations.” Jotaro said coolly, letting go of Ermes’ hand as he then walked back over to his seat beside you. “He unfortunately had to go home.”

Rolling your eyes good-naturedly, you took your seat at the table again as well.

Once everyone was seated, conversation flowed naturally, food being eaten before the main course was served. And by the time that dessert rolled around, Foo Fighters was firmly drunk after having stolen Weather’s glass of wine, and Jolyne’s ring had been thoroughly inspected at least a hundred times.

- - - -

Walking into the bedroom, Jotaro’s face fell into a deadpan as he saw you sitting upright in bed with your laptop on your lap. “Are you still on it?”

“It has to be perfect.” You mumbled, typing away as you continued to search for different venues.

It had taken about six months since the engagement, but Ermes and Jolyne had finally began planning the wedding, having asked you and Jotaro for your input – both thanks to the fact that you were funding it for a big part, as well as the fact that you already had experience when it came to planning a wedding.

“Darling, leave some planning to them. A bit of wedding stress is good for them.” He sighed, taking off his shirt as he walked to his side of the bed, lifting his pillow and rummaging under it to find the pyjama pants he keeps there.

“But there’s so much to do, I just want to help.” You frowned, glancing to the side to see your husband switch out his pants for the pyjama ones.

“Your helping is causing you to stress like it’s your own wedding. They’re smart girls, they can handle it.” Jotaro said, climbing into bed beside you.

“But-“

He grabbed your cheek and turned your head to face him, shutting you up. “No buts. Sleep, Y/N.”

“I’m not overbearing, am I?” You whisper, worried now and Jotaro huffed in amusement, rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

“No, you’re not. Jolyne asked me to get you to take a break because she’s worried about you. She assured me she appreciates you taking the work load from them, but as I said; let them have their own wedding stress. It’s healthy.”

“You sure?”

Reaching over, Jotaro closed your laptop and placed it on his nightstand, shuffling down under the blankets a bit while pulling you down with him. “Certain.” He assured, looking at you with gentle eyes. Age had truly mellowed this man out.

“Okay.” You whispered, allowing him to pull you in as he took a deep breath, his arms tight around you as he cuddled you close, your own body melding with his.

“Goodnight.”

“Sleep well, love.” He muttered.

- - - -

Reaching up, you straightened Jotaro’s bow tie a bit.

“I can’t believe she still invited him.” The raven grumbled and you sighed softly.

“Like it or not, she views Anasui as a friend. He saved our lives, remember?” You asked, dusting his suit of imaginary dust as you spoke and Jotaro huffed.

“I’ve saved his life dozens of times by not caving his skull in.”

Letting out a little ‘tssk’ you softly hit his arm. “It’s your daughter’s wedding day! Stop with the negative talk.” You scolded, crossing your arms. “He won’t be a problem. Weather Report is there to keep an eye on him.”

“He’s going to object.” Jotaro spoke matter of fact, clearly displeased.

“Didn’t you threaten him so severely he stayed out of Jolyne and Ermes’ way the entire wedding planning?” You countered, raising an eyebrow and Jotaro sighed.

“Yes, but even his malleability has an end. He’s obsessed with Jolyne. It’s dangerous.” He frowned and you nodded, not wanting to wave his concerns away, as well as knowing he was right.

“This is true, but Jolyne only allowed him to be here if he promised to behave. And we’ll step in if we have to.”

“I don’t like it.” Jotaro just said and you gave him a sad little smile before leaning up, pressing a small kiss to his lips.

“I think you don’t have to worry.” You said. “I heard Ermes talking to Jolyne earlier, said she had it handled.”

At that, Jotaro seemed pleasantly surprised. “She okay?”

“Weather went with her.”

“Good man.”

Chuckling a bit, you nodded, patting his chest for a moment until music started up in the chapel. “Oh, that’s my cue.” You hummed, standing up straight. “I’ll see you at the front row. Love you.”

With that, you walked through he double doors, leaving Jotaro alone in the forechamber. “Love you too.” He mumbled, looking down and straightening the small flowers in his suit jacket pocket.

And then, a door opened behind him and Jotaro turned, the crease in his brow vanishing as slowly, Jolyne stepped out of her dressing room.

She was dressed in a beautiful wedding gown, white as snow and fanning out from her hips, giving a simple yet elegant shape, accentuated by jewelry embroidered into the boddice. Her hair was up into a perfectly sculpted bun, wreathed in braids.

“Look at you.” Jotaro muttered, holding out his hand and Jolyne walked over, positively shining as she took his hand, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Can you help me, dad?” She whispered, holding up her veil.

Looking down at it, he huffed a little in amusement and nodded, gently taking the piece of fabric from her.

Stepping closer, he raised his arms, carefully inspecting her hair, testing where it would be best to push the prongs of the veil’s comb into to keep it in place. With a gentle move, he slid the prongs into her hair.

“This reminds me of when you used to do my hair.” Jolyne whispered and a fond smile spread on her father’s face.

“Only fitting I do it one last time before giving you away.” He muttered, fixing the veil in front of her face so that it hung proper. “You planned it, didn’t you?” He asked and Jolyne smiled from behind the white silk, nodding.

“I love you, dad.” She whispered, her voice breaking a bit and Jotaro had to take in a heavy breath, cradling her cheeks through the veil as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I love you too, my little seastar.” He murmured back before pulling away, giving her a proud look before he shifted to stand beside her, holding out his arm. “Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Jolyne said back, her nerves flaring and Jotaro hummed.

“Then you’re doing better than I was.”

“Really?” She murmured, looking up at her dad and the raven nodded.

“I was sure I was going to throw up, waiting at the alter for your mother. Let’s hope Ermes is doing better than me.”

“So, I finally have something I’m better at than you?” Jolyne teased and at that, Jotaro turned his head to look at her, right as from inside the chapel, the organ began to play, the ceremony starting.

“You’ve always been better than me, Jolyne.” He spoke, his eyes soft. “You’re my little girl.”

Taking in a shaky breath, Jolyne was just forced to bite her lip and hold in her tears as right at that moment, the doors were opened, showing her to the gathered people.

Inside, everyone was waiting on chairs, even though there weren’t that many family or friends gathered. Ahead, Foo Fighters was spreading flowers across the carpet, fit to burst with excitement before she quickly veered off to the right and sat down in one of the few chairs set up in the room, not many attendees present.

Still, as the two Kujo’s started walking down the aisle, Jolyne felt her heart fit to burst, seeing Ermes stand at the altar, a proud smile on her face.

Almost perfectly, the sun shone in through the stained glass windows of the church and Jotaro glanced left, seeing the head of Weather Report’s Stand peeking out behind the man, even as he sat next to a pissed off Anasui.

Finally, the two reached the end of the aisle and Jotaro turned to Jolyne one last time, looking down at her, his hands dropping down to hold onto hers.

“Go start your life, Jolyne. Properly this time.” He quietly spoke, glancing up to Ermes who was still beaming with pride in her white suit, in awe of Jolyne in her wedding dress.

With a small squeeze to his daughter’s hands, he then helped her up the shallow stairs onto the altar, his hand feeling strangely empty the moment Jolyne’s left his to instead grab Ermes’.

Letting out a little breath, he turned and moved to sit down on the empty chair next to you, feeling your hand grabbing hold of his. And god did he not realise he needed that.

Together, you watched as the officiant began to read his lines, Ermes and Jolyne only having eyes for each other at this point.

They looked gorgeous and so so happy together and Jotaro was once again reminded of the Joestar family saying. Joestars only fell in love once in their life. And Jolyne had found her single love.

As the ceremony progressed, the entire church was dead silent, solely focused on the couple while the sun continued to shine perfectly down through the windows, bathing them in a multitude of colours.

And then, it came time for that dreaded part of the ceremony as the officiant called out. “Is there anyone who objects to this union?”

Turning around, Jotaro glared at the man sitting two rows back from him, but before either could do anything, a snap came from behind the raven, followed quickly by a kiss sound coming from around Anasui. He opened his mouth to protest and both you and Jotaro watched how there were two tongues in his mouth, only to snap together as Ermes’ signature Stand sticker disappeared.

Immediately, Weather Report shoved a handkerchief towards the man so he could hide his grunt of pain, as well as the blood.

For, with his tongue shredded, Anasui couldn’t speak a single word.

“Very well. The rings, if you’d please.” The officiant asked and carefully, Emporio stood up from his seat beside you, walking over to the two where he presented the rings.

With a smile, Jolyne took one first, slowly sliding it onto Ermes’ hand while repeating the phrase the officiant read aloud. Shortly after, Ermes did the same, Emporio walking back over to his seat.

Watching it together, Jotaro held your hand tighter and tighter, watching as Ermes now reached up, lifting Jolyne’s veil.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Reaching out, Jolyne grabbed Ermes by the hips before twisting her into a dip and kissing her deep as instantly, applause and cheering roared out through the church.

Your smile was as wide as the Chesire cat’s as you stood up like many as you watched the scene.

And as you looked over at Jotaro, his eyes were misty as he watched, clapping as he stood beside you, seeing Jolyne pull Ermes back to her feet, the two of them smiling sweetly at each other before sharing another, more tender kiss.

With that, the two of them began to ran down the aisle together, rushing out the doors and as you watched, Jotaro’s arm slid around your waist as he pulled you in tight, not having his hat to be able to hide his emotions.

-

If you wanna commission me

[yeontaescumslut]

Happy Anniversary ◯ ♱ ۫ 🪽𝄞 ❀ 𓂂 ࣪ ა ₊

Pairing Jay x (Fem) Reader

Genre non- idol au, smut

Synopsis: You’ve never been the dominant type in you and Jays relationship, but tonight that would change when you want to surprise him for your anniversary…

Warnings: Oral, Fingering, name calling (good girl, slut, daddy, etc), face sitting, squirting, car sex, public sex

Word count: 2,781K

Authors note: For all my Jay Stans 👹 I’m making my way through all of enha so if you have anyone in particular you want me to do next lmk!! Thank you so much for reading my stuff it makes me so happy 🖤🥲

Today started out as any normal day at your job and Jay was working in the office per usual. As you’re researching something for a project at work when your phone suddenly chimes, you look over to see that its a message form your Boyfriend, Jay. The message read…

Jay: Be ready by 6:15, we’ve got dinner plans beautiful girl.

You smile at your phone cheeks getting red at the message. He did this often knowing it was your love language. You continue your work now excited for your work day to end so you could get all dressed up for your boyfriend. Today was your 4 year anniversary, so you knew he had something really nice planned. Typical of him to do so, he has always been the romantic type knowing just the way to get your heart racing with a look from his soft smoldering eyes.

Luckily for you your work day wrapped up rather quickly especially considering how for the rest of your shift you were daydreaming about how your evening with jay was gonna go, and boy had you mustered up something special for him in the meantime. You quickly rushed home trying your best to beat the 5 o’clock traffic so you could have as much time as possible to get ready.

you shower, and doll yourself all up for jay curling your hair and smudging your eyeliner just the way he loved. Your hand shakes slightly as you put on your deep red lipstick too entranced in your thoughts about what you had planned to stay still. You do your best to shake the feeling as you go to get dressed into the little black dress that you had bought about a week prior for this occasion specifically. Zipping it up you get goosebumps at the thought of how jay has once traced this pattern on your back to discard of a little dress like this.

Before you know it, time flies and its time, you hear a honk coming from outside you and jays shared apartment complex, knowing it was him 6:15 on the dot not a minute early or late. Your skin textured with bumps thinking about how to execute this plan successfully and not be awkward about it. You rush out of the apartment grabbing your purse on the way out. As you walk out of the complex doors you see Jay standing in front of your passenger seat door hands placed in his pockets. When he spots you exiting the complex doors he stands up straight from leaning on the car door. His eyes wide, a smile slowly stretches across his face.

Fuck. He is wearing that silk black button up that highlights his body line like no body’s business. This has your knees slightly wanting to buckle as you approach him. Jay takes you by the hand using it to spin you around for a 360. His free hand giving your bottom an encouraging tap as he playfully whistles at you. “You never fail to amaze me beautiful��� he pulls you into his chest, a waft of his familiar woodsy scent filling your nose as he kisses your forehead.

On the road jay rests his hand on your upper thigh without fail of course, its his favorite thing about your body. This would come into great play to know for later.. his veiny tan skin is a contrast to pale elegance of yours. It almost felt sinful to look at sometimes. The cool metal of his silver rings leaving indents in your flesh as he gripped your thigh at each light you caught, him glancing over to send you a little smirk or bring your hand up to his lips to kiss it. This had your core gripping around nothing, he surely knows what he’s doing to you right?

You glance over at your stunning boyfriend analyzing his little details, his gelled hair, his dangly silver earrings, the subtle five o clock shadow peaking in, the little bit of skin is showing from the first 2 buttons he has undone, the Gucci belt locked around his hips it was all too much to handle. Jay was a simple sexy man. He was your man.

You arrive at the restaurant, you’re staring at Jays veiny tan hands as he grips the gear shift, shifting the car into park. You’re pussy dripping at the thought of his hands tracing your body like that. Jay calls to you snapping you out of your daze. In his deep raspy voice he asks if you’re ready to go inside. You shake your head as though shaking off the thoughts and reply with a confident yes.

Jay exits his side of the car coming over to yours to open your door for you, extending his hand out to grab yours, helping you out of the passenger seat. You take his arm, wrapping your hand around his thick bicep, he walks you both into the restaurant, keeping you on his arm the entire time. When you enter the host takes you to the most romantic table you have ever seen in your life. Rose petals strone across the table, a bottle of your favorite wine placed in the center and chairs placed right next to eachother instead of across. Jay knew you loved sitting next to him instead of in front of him.

Jay walks over to the table pulling your chair out for you, his hand gestures for you to take a seat, once you’re sat in your chair he places a white napkin across your lap, then pushing your chair in, following suit he sits in his chair. As soon as he slides his chair closer to the table his hand is immediately back on your thigh. It was at this moment you new your boyfriend was on the same wavelength as you tonight.

you order an appetizer and that gives you and jay some privacy from the waiter for a while, his attention is immediately on you. He’s leaned back in his chair, not in an ill mannered way but rather just comfortably resting but god does he look incredibly sexy doing it. He brushes a hand through his dark locks as he gazes over at you, simultaneously raises his place on your thigh but not higher, more inner. His pinky grazing your clothed core shamelessly. A sultry smile appearing on his lips when he realizes just how wet you are already.

however he doesn’t address it up front,he doesn’t have to because you can read the look right off his sexy ass face. “ you look so beautiful..as always.” He coos tucking some hair out of your face with his free hand. “ I’m so lucky to have such a stunning woman inside and out love me.You are my entire world sweet girl, happy anniversary.” He closes the space between your faces using that same hand to cup the back of your neck to kiss your lips quickly. The only reason he doesn’t linger this kiss being the fact that he’s reaching into his pocket to bring out a cute little box wrapped in a red ribbon.

The shock on your face is apparent as he pulls out the little box. Your mouth falling open as a reaction. You reach out to take the box with both hands, tears welling in the corners of your eyes. You untie the ribbon softly, pulling the longer string allowing the bow to fall into your lap softly. Jay is leaning back in his chair his face riddled with anticipation as he watches you open the box. You lock your fingers under the lid of the box prying it open softly, anticipating what’s inside. As the lid slowly reveals what’s inside your heart rate rises higher and higher as you see more of the pendant peeking from behind the box’s lid. Once the lid is fully off your eyes widen as your eyes are graced with the most beautiful necklace you had ever seen in your life.

“Jay, this is Beautiful, you really didn’t have to” You say to him tears peaking out of the corners of your eyes. Jay reaches his hand over to caress your face softly. “Of course i did my love, you deserve this and more” a smile painted across your face as you hold the pendant in your hand admiring the beauty of it. “Would you put it on for me?” You hand Jay the necklace and begin to lift your hair so his hands can snake around your neck easier. The cold metal of the chain giving you slight goosebumps that is until jays hands graze your neck, he is so gentle his fingers tickle your neck as he claps the necklace. When he sees the beautiful pendant draped around your neck he runs his hands down your back resting them at your waist, “It looks stunning on you darling” his mouth right next to your ear as the words hit your ear drum, you feel his plump pillowy lips make contact with the back of your neck, making you clasp your hands together tightly in your lap. He knew exactly what he was doing and knew exactly what it was doing to you. Just as your breathing steadies the waiter arrives at the table to ask for your orders.

As you’re waiting on your meals, Jay pours wine in your glass, your favorite that he specifically requested to be had at the table. “Here you are princess” pouring the wine with two hands, you look at him admiring his sharp beautiful features. Your top teeth catch your bottom lip as you stare at Jays hands, thinking sinful thoughts just wanting to eat and get him alone but you push through. You’re snapped back into reality when Jay asks you if you’re going to drink your wine or just stare at it.” He lets out a little giggle swirling his wine in his glass taking a sip. You giggle back at him raising your glass to your lips letting the tart red wine stain your lips.

The meal has finally arrived to you and Jay, you both enjoy your meal and chit chat through it. Once you’ve finished the waiter brings over the bill and Jay pays. As you get ready to get up to leave Jay pulls your seat out for you making it easier for you to get up. He has always been a gentleman, even 4 years later. He reaches his elbow out for you to take. You grab ahold of his bicep giving it a little squeeze. Preparing yourself for what is about to take place.

You and Jay make it back to the car safely, like the gentleman he is, he opens your door for you waiting until you’re fully in and settled before he closes the door. You twiddle your thumbs waiting for him to get in the drivers seat. Once he gets settled he lets out a happy sigh patting his stomach. “Did you enjoy dinner sweetie?” He asks patting the back of your head sweetly. Your brain is fogged at this point, you’re distracted by him and he’s right here. The thoughts of how you’re going to pull this off clouds your brain, you’re never the type to be dominate and initiate things between you and Jay but you had always wanted to and thought tonight would be perfect. He tits his head looking at you “baby?” He questions softly. You snap you’re head up coming back to reality once again, “sorry baby, yes dinner was delicious thank you so much for dinner, and this” you grab the pendant around your neck smiling softly. Jay smiles at you, “so where do you wanna go now?” You respond very confidently having had this in mind “how about we go to d the park where we had out first date? Maybe watch the stars?” You were absolutely bullshitting, you know that the park has the darkest parking spots near you and no one is ever there. He agrees with you thinking it was also a great idea not having a clue what’s coming.

You and Jay pull up to the park, you direct him to the darkest spot in the lot, he definitely has a clue what’s going down now, from how nervous you’ve been all night to the way you had been distracting yourself. He rests his arm on the steering wheel turning his body to face you, “mmm so this is what you’ve been wanting all night” he thinks you want him to fuck you but that’s not necessarily what you had in mind you’ve had enough and decided to just go for it, no more stalling. You look up at him, your eyes look different than usual they’re lust filled tonight. “Shut up and lean your chair all the way back” you sit on your knees in your chair pushing his chest down as he obeys what you say. He leans the chair all the way back to where it’s basically flat on the backseat. You make your way over, straddling his lap in the driver seat, your dress hiking up your thighs making the bottom of your ass hang out, jays hands find their way to the tender skin ,giving it a squeeze. Your lips find his, his lips as soft as cotton, your tongue fights with his for a taste of eachother, his hands roaming your body, yours entangled in his chocolate brown hair. You pull away from the kiss sitting up from your position, you grab jay by the jaw telling him to open, he follows suit opening his mouth, your saliva leaving your mouth as you spit in his. Leaving him no time to think you shimmy your way up to where your pussy is directly on his mouth, his hands find your hips steadying you and holding you in place, his tongue immediately finds your clothed clit sucking on it gently, his hands pushing your dress further up your body, his hand finds the seam of your panties pulling them to the side, his tongue making contact with your now bare folds, your hands gripping the back headrest for stability, your body jolting at the feeling, your core so sensitive in this position. Jays lips wrap around your bud as he pointer and middle find your entrance, pushing them into you curling them in just the right way to where it hits your g spot, a cry ripping from your throat, your hand placed on the window leaving traces of pleasure. Jay grunts into your pussy, his free hand reaches down, his tan slender fingers finding the buckle of his belt, flipping it open, the button sliding through the fabric the sound of his zipper makes you realize what he’s doing, his zipper slides down, pulling his cock out of the confinement of his pants. His hand gripping the base of his cock tight as his tongue navigates your folds.

Your eyes shut tight as the knot in your stomach burns with greediness. Hes giving you all he can yet you want more, Your voice echoing through the car as you beg for more “Jay more, please daddy” youre on the verge of tears, Jay does not hesitate as his lips wrap around your bud sucking pulling the sensation to one spot, his finger tips prodding at your cervix at this point, curled hitting just the right spot. Hes now bucking his hips into his own hands, the feeling leaving his grunts vibrating against your pussy. The heat from outside mixed with the air from the car leaves the windows foggy the only thing visible is your handprint on the window. The sinful sounds leaving your throat being covered by the music filling your ears. The pit in your stomach burns hotter as Jay speeds up, his fingers pounding into your cunt leaving his fingers soaking wet, his suction on your clit not letting up pulling you to the end. His fingers scrape your cervix one last time before youre squirting all over his fingers and face, he follows suit shooting his seed all up his stomach mixing with your fluids. His tongue lapping up every drop you release as he strokes out every drop of his own.

You plop down on the back seat not having any strength left in your legs, his car seat soaking wet, your breaths heavy, shaky. Jay looks over at you as he licks his lips and wipes the mess you made from his face “Good Girl” you look back at him with a heavy smirk. “Happy Anniversary”

[sallowtheories]

What does Sebastian’s name mean, and what does it say about his character?

In this post I will take a look at Sebastian Sallow’s name, and see what information we can obtain from it. We will first take a look at his first name, and see what the name Sebastian can tell us about his character. We will then look at his surname, and see where that can lead us, followed by a name pattern and character traits that I’ve spotted within Sebastian and other Harry Potter characters.

I decided to look up some of the names from Hogwarts Legacy, because from a storytelling perspective, there’s usually always a reason for characters to be named a certain way. And in the Harry Potter universe, people are certainly named for a reason. It has been proven again and again with Harry Potter characters, 

Being that Sebastian Sallow is my favorite Hogwarts Legacy character, I firmly believe that his character has so much more to offer in the overall Hogwarts Legacy story, along with the possible upcoming second game. And with his character being added til Quidditch, he is most definitely made to be remembered and make an impact.

The name Sebastian is of Greek origin from the word sebastos meaning ”venerable” or ”revered”. And me, having English as my second language, I decided to check up on what these words meant.

I must admit, that when I first read “respected”, I had a small chuckle. Not because I don’t believe Sebastain is respected, because trust me, he is - it was because of how fitting it was. Sebastian’s character has just been added to another Harry Potter game (Quidditch Champions) not too long ago, and it is pretty much impossible to Google Hogwarts Legacy, without his face and name popping up everywhere. But it also speaks to how he is viewed, within the world of Hogwarts Legacy.

When I first played Hogwarts Legacy, I didn’t choose to go to Hogsmeade with Sebastian. I am a true Gryffindor, and therefore decided to go with Natty, as that just made more sense to me. But during my second gameplay as a Ravenclaw, I decided to go with Sebastian, and that was when I noticed how the teachers spoke of him - with much revere. Many of the teachers express in some sort of way that they are impressed with Sebastain and his abilities. Now, this could also be because many of the teachers at Hogwarts most likely knew his parents, and have noticed qualities in him that they used to have as well. But they all also express some sort of sadness, as it seems like many have noticed a shift within Sebastian after Anne got cursed. They use expressions such as; “I fear his mind is elsewhere”. Now, I have a whole idea of what the teachers may be sensing within Sebastian, but that’s a theory for another day. What is important to focus on is that the teachers consider Sebastian a bright and gifted student, and whatever he is going through, is not “normal” for him.

It is not only the teachers that consider Sebastian gifted or have respect for him. Lucan even tells the MC, that if Sebastian told them about Cross Wands, they must really be good. Now, as many of you may have noticed, people talk about you and Sebastain when you wander around Hogwarts, and so in Feldcroft. These comments either show admiration for Sebastian’s abilities, or maybe even a tiny bit of jealousy. Now, these traits make me think of a few other specific characters, but I’m getting ahead of myself. For now, let us look at Sebastian’s last name.

First we need to figure out what the word “sallow” means, and I found some quick answers.

When I first read “grayish greenish yellow color”, I must admit, I didn’t find it very flattering. All though, I have to say it’s a fitting name for what we see of the Sallows in the game. It perfectly describes the color of Anne’s skin after she has been cursed, and does give this vibe of sickness and disease. During my research, I also found that people pointed to how the name was fitting when it comes to Sebastian’s goal to find a cure for his sister, which slowly turns into a slow and sickening descent into dark magic.

However, as many may already have noticed, there’s another meaning to the name Sallow. Sallow is a form of three - a type of willow tree. I’ve already seen many people theorise that Sebastian’s wand wood may be willow, which would make a lot of sense. According to Pottermore, this is what Ollivander had to say about willow wands:

It is fitting that Sebastian, who tries to find a cure for his sister, would have a wand of wood with healing powers. However, the fact that this is a wand wood that often matches up with an owner with some sort of insecurity, is overly fascinating to me. Sebastian comes across as very charming and very confident, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he was hiding some sort of (unwarranted) insecurity. His home life was far from the best with his strained relationship with his uncle, and how knows how Sebastian might have viewed himself. However, the part of Ollivander’s description that fascinated me the most, is this: “(...) my willow wands have consistently selected those of greatest potential (...). It has always been a proverb in my family that he who has furthest to travel will go fastest with willow”. This speaks volumes to Sebastian’s character, along with my firm belief that he will continue to play an interesting part in the Hogwarts Legacy universe, and maybe even the Harry Potter universe itself. With a wand of willow (known to be rare), I decided to take a look at other known characters with willow wood wands, and I was honestly quite surprised. Known owners of willow wands are characters such as Lily J. Potter, Ron Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy - all very important characters for the Harry Potter universe or the stories in which they’re mentioned.

Returning to Sebastian Sallow’s name, I noticed a name pattern seen in a few other Harry Potter characters. Sebastian is one of only four own characters in the Harry Potter universe, who has the initials S.S. The other four being Stan Shunpike, Severus Snape and of course Salazar Slytherin. It is unknown what house Stan Shunpike was sorted into, but it wouldn’t be too strange if he too was a Slytherin. With that being said, all four have more than just their house in common. All four have had run-ins or dived into Dark Magic. Stan Shunpike was sent to Azkaban, after he claimed he had inside information on the Death Eaters, and would at one point join/help the Death Eaters, though it was suspected to be under the Imperius Curse. We all know the story of Severus Snape, and there’s no need to explain Salazar Slytherin. All four of these characters have an important impact on the story that they are a part of, and are continuously returning, and I have a feeling that Sebastian Sallow will do so as well.

With all these things combined, just from looking at Sebastian Sallow’s, I fully firmly believe that we will see more of him in the upcoming second edition of Hogwarts Legacy, in which he once again will play an important part to the story. And as many of you may already have noticed, I believe that Sebastian is more than just a main B character in a Harry Potter game. I believe that he has an important role to play in the upcoming story, and I have a sneaking suspicion that he may be tied to Tom Riddle in more ways than just being a Slytherin and friends with one of Voldemort’s blood relatives. But that’s a theory for another time.

[literary-motif]

Secretary (NSFW)

Isaac Rhoades x Reader

Giving Isaac head under the desk while he’s on the phone. 

“I’ve got some interesting things you might want to take a look at,” you said, handing Isaac a stack of papers. 

He took it absentmindedly, muttering a small ‘thank you’ as he continued furiously scribbling something down on the margin of the document he was pouring over.

Isaac had been preoccupied with a different case for the past few days. Originally, it had been a favor he agreed to do for Asirel — look into the business of some of his more volatile acquaintances and gather as much discrediting data on them as possible — but this side case had led him to do some research that unearthed intriguing connections neither of you had thought of before. 

For as much as you were both invested in your work, Isaac had started to look like a man possessed by the need to know. 

Sometimes when you were sitting down to eat, an idea would strike him and he would spring up suddenly, rushing to his study to follow up on it, leaving you sitting alone at the table. He would jolt awake in the middle of the night and jot down new thoughts, half delirious, only to be annoyed in the morning at being unable to read his own handwriting and not understanding a word of what he’d written down.

The situation had gone out of hand. Isaac was thinking so much about Asirel’s colleagues and their dubious connections, that he had begun to neglect his other cases, mainly the one you were working on together. 

It did not bother you, taking on more of his workload and spending extra hours invested in your research, but you knew that part of the case was time-sensitive and you needed Isaac — concentrated and at his best — to prevent the worst from happening.

He massaged his shoulder with his free hand, kneading the base of his neck absentmindedly. An expression of discomfort and pain flashed across Isaac’s face briefly, and he retreated his hand from his tense shoulders. 

You knew that he was stressed, and as you looked at him now, you could see just how rigidly stiff his posture was. Isaac needed to relax and release some of the tension he carried from working himself into the ground. 

“This case you’ve been working on is more complex than we previously thought and, in cross-referencing it to past ones, I was able to pick out some patterns that point to the same group of people we already have under observation,” you explained, causing Isaac to look up at you briefly.

“Well done,” he said, and by the way his eyes returned to the words in front of him immediately, you knew that he had not understood a single word you said.

Sighing you moved around his desk to stand beside him, leaning over his shoulder to look at the document he was annotating. “Found anything interesting, my knight?” you asked, making sure that Isaac felt your breath on his skin from how close you were.

He hummed in reply, not elaborating further as he continued reading, ignoring or unbothered by your proximity. You suppressed the need to sigh in annoyance and hooked a finger under his chin instead, tilting Isaac’s head to the side to give you better access to his neck. “What are you doing?” he asked in confusion, still keeping his eyes fixed on the page and head tilted to the side, just as you had guided him to. 

As you began kissing his neck, sucking lightly at the sensitive spot right under his jaw, you could feel his heartbeat sped up under the touch of your lips. “Do I have your attention now?” you whispered, sending a shiver down his spine, “or do I have to resort to more drastic measures?”

Isaac swallowed, turning his head to glance at you. “You wouldn’t believe the trail I’m currently following,” he said breathlessly, “Whatever you think you have uncovered can wait. This here” — he pointed at the paper in front of him — “is monumental.”

“That might very well be,” you said sweetly, raking your hand through his hair and making Isaac sigh in contentment immediately, “but we have cases to work on other than Asirel’s petty security schemes.” Your hand trailed lower until you were playing with the hair at the base of his neck. 

Isaac breathed shakily, his eyes drifting shut of their own accord at how good your touch felt. You knew him too well. You knew exactly which buttons to push to get him riled up, you knew what to do to make him swoon, and you knew where to touch him to undo him in an instant. 

“I don’t think you’re playing fair,” Isaac observed as the fingers of your free hand slipped down his collar and pressed down on his spine, beginning to loosen the tension he held there with a few expert touches. He could not suppress the soft moan of bliss that escaped him. 

You smirked, tilting his head up again with a light pull at his hair. “I don’t think I know what you mean,” you purred, kissing his lips. “I’d just like you to pay attention to me when I tell you important things.”

“Everything you say is important to me,” he replied in a whisper, his eyes lighting up in delight as he saw you avert your gaze briefly. “Did I make you flustered, Pickle?” He chuckled fondly, kissing you again. “Why, that wasn’t my intention in the slightest, but I’ll admit, you look cute all bashful.”

You rolled your eyes, reaching across the desk to place the stack of paper with the case files connected to your primary case in front of him. “I’d really like you to take a look at these—”

The phone on his desk rang and Isaac tensed immediately, moving away from you and answering it with a professional, if not to say cold, statement of his name. Gone was the husky breathiness of only a moment ago, and his facade of stoic professionalism was back in place with no cracks visible. 

“Oh, Asirel, yes,” Isaac said, barely suppressing his excitement to let his friend — pardon, colleague — know what he had found out. “The people you requested are horrible. There is so much potentially fatal to their careers if you know where to look— They are done for, I’m sure.”

It was safe to say you were more than a little annoyed now. Asirel and his painful need for gossip — because that’s what got to his rivals, in the end. It was the rumors and thinly veiled jabs at their reputation and past mistakes that did them in — were interfering with your work, and it was not like you could just ignore Isaac’s sudden dive into a completely superfluous rabbit hole because you needed him and his knowledge of past cases that much predated your involvement in the PI-business to make sense of all the evidence you had accumulated. You knew there was something there, you just did not know what it was, but Isaac would. That was, if he cared to look.

You placed a hand on his shoulder, turning his chair around so he would face you and behold your disapproving stare. “And, well, do you remember the elitist hunting organization? Yes, that one. Turns out your treasurer has relations in it,” Isaac said, raising an eyebrow at you. 

‘This is important’ you mouthed to him and pointed towards the papers you had placed on his desk. He nodded dismissively and held up a finger, signaling that Asirel would only take a minute. You both knew he was lying and you groaned quietly in frustration.

You were suddenly struck with an idea that was guaranteed to get Isaac off the phone and you smirked, hesitating only a moment to consider it properly before dropping to your knees on the carpeted floor. In truth, you were thrilled to punish Isaac a little for ignoring you and being so absentminded without even putting in any effort to listen to what you had to say. It was childish, you knew, but that did not make the idea any less appealing. 

Isaac had not noticed you on the ground yet, but as you placed your hands on his thighs and slowly began moving them up, his head whirled towards you. The beautiful frown of confusion on his face made you smile mischievously as your hands brushed over his groin, reaching his belt as you looked up at him with burning intensity.

His eyes widened in sudden realization and he gasped quietly, mouth falling open to exhale shakily. You tilted your head, waiting for an answer before continuing. As Isaac’s cheeks turned a flaming pink, he gave a curt nod and cleared his throat, returning to his conversation with Asirel. 

The belt was quickly removed and as you freed his already half-hard cock, running a finger from the base to the tip, Isaac could not suppress a shudder. His eyes were fixed on you, waiting for what you would do next. “No, yes, I’m here,” he said, sighing, “now, it’s like I told you with the senator—”

You gave him a peck on the tip of his cock. It was enough to cut him off, making him grip the armrest of his chair in a white-knuckled grip as it twitched under your lips. Isaac was so unused to this, it was almost laughable how a few expert touches from you could make his iron resolve crumble. “The— the Senator, yes," he breathed as you wrapped one of your hands around the base of his cock and began stroking him leisurely.

“I— yes, the uh, the assistant knows that, too,” Isaac stuttered when you pushed his legs further apart to scoot even closer. His wide eyes and the blush spreading across his cheek made you want to tear him apart in the best way possible. He looked so out of his depth like this, with you kneeling in front of him and gazing up at him so sweetly.

The desire churning within him was impossible to ignore and he wanted to sigh in pleasure when he felt you placing sloppy kisses around his cock. You felt so good, and he longed to tell you, praise you for how good you made him feel, for how much pleasure you gave him.

He wanted to lean his head back and let you take charge, sink into the hazy feeling slowly pulling him under and relinquish all control to you. He knew he could trust you. He knew he could be vulnerable with you, and he wanted to show you just how much control you had over him when you made him moan your name.

"Yes, Asirel," Isaac gasped, "I'm listening, go on."

His cock was painfully hard now and you made sure he was looking into your eyes as you took the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue along the underside of it. Isaac choked.

“No, no. I’m fine, it’s nothing,” he rushed out, holding onto the armrest for dear life to distract him from the overwhelming need to buck his hips into your mouth. “It’s nothing. What else do you want to know?” 

Slowly, you took more of his cock and began sucking, bobbing your head. Isaac’s breathing was shaky as he hummed in agreement to whatever Asirel was saying. You could feel his entire body trembling, his hips stuttering in minuscule jerks.

With his eyes closed, he only felt your hand stop caressing his chest a moment before you reached into his slacks and fondled his balls. The new sensation made his decorum melt like ice.

He thrust his cock into your mouth with a sudden snap of his hips, making you gag. Tears sprang to your eyes immediately and you pushed yourself off of his cock for a moment to breathe, caught off guard by the sudden movement.

Isaac pressed the phone against his chest hard to muffle his moan. The feeling of you choking on him was so good, you were so good. There was nothing he wanted to do more than slam the phone down and lose himself to the feeling of you around him, hear you gag on his cock until he ravished you in return, bending you over the desk and fucking you for as long as it took for you to forget the papers you were being railed on.

“What was that, Asirel?” Isaac asked, voice hoarse, “I didn’t quite catch that.” His hand reached out to caress your cheek softly, brushing away the tears that had naturally escaped your eyes. You tilted your head to place an open-mouthed kiss against his palm, causing Isaac to bite his lip.

His fingers moved up to thread through your hair as you took him into your mouth again, guiding your head to bob in a gentle rhythm. Isaac opened his eyes to look down at you, his cheeks red and pupils blown wide in bliss. 

He looked beautiful like this, nearly undone as you made him feel good. It was almost painfully easy to break his resolve now that he had let you into his heart, and you cherished every second of him allowing you to see him vulnerable, happy, or as sinful as he was now. 

You hummed around his cock and his eyes fluttered shut again, mouth falling open in a silent moan as his hand tightened in your hair. It made you grunt, the vibrations of it going straight to Isaac’s cock. The pleasure was building rapidly inside him, and he could feel himself getting close.

“Mhm, I see," Isaac rasped hastily, "Listen, I’ll send you the files and my notes, alright? Good. I’ve got to go now. Goodbye Asirel.” He slammed the phone down before he got a reply, releasing a strangled moan and throwing his head back.

“God, you’re so good,” he whimpered, loosening his tie with shaky fingers, “So good yes. Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” he asked, running his hand through your hair gently as you continued sucking him off. "I didn't mean to pull your— I—"

You gripped his hand, meeting his gaze to let him know you were fine. You could tell Isaac was close. His breathing uneven and legs trembling, hips rocking to thrust into your mouth. You squeezed his hand, encouraging him to let go. 

“I—” he gasped, cut off by a moan, “I think I— I’m gonna— yes, yes, please.” He came hard down your throat with a jerk of his hips, clutching your hand as if it was the only thing keeping him together.

When he calmed down from his high, he slumped back in his chair exhausted, sweat coating his forehead. “That was— you were amazing,” he said, speech slightly slurred. “Would you like me to—?”

“Take a look at the papers I gave you, yes,” you rasped, clearing your throat and wiping some of his spent from the corner of your mouth.

Isaac glared at you playfully, offering you a hand to get up from the floor. You took it, smirking at him in return.

"I'm gonna make you forget about those fucking documents, I swear."

Part II

[sleepingdeath-sapphic]

reunion ; cookie run smut

for an ao3 commenter <3

blueberry pie cookie x gender neutral!reader <3

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked <3

includes vaginal fingering, blueberry pie cookie being called ‘blue’, and praise kink <3

you can also read this on ao3 <3

918 words long <3

please note that this piece was originally written back in early july of this year and thus isn’t the best representation of my current writing style <3

Your visits with Blue were few and far between, with her constantly cooped up researching magic and it's history in her study and you out travelling the world on your own. Though, it was once said that distance makes the heart grow stronger, and in your case you knew it to be true — as you never failed to make the most of your brief stints together.

One particularly effective time killer was a favourite of you both (though, of course, Blue would never admit to such a thing) as it provided you the opportunity to spend some much needed quality time with your wife — and, for her, it offered a brief reprieve from her self-imposed dry spell. In fact, it was this such activity that you now found yourself partaking in — barely having the time to close the door before she was upon you like a butter tiger in heat, all her normal senses of formality and propriety thrown out of the window.

And who were you to deny your love after such a wanton display?

So here you found yourself: your usually composed and formal wife straddling your lap with her legs spread as far as she could manage, her blue and white skirts hiked up to her waist and her underwear discarded off somewhere you couldn't bother recalling; her braid fraying and coming undone, wispy strands of light brown hair flying in front of your face as she tossed and turned in your grip, positively writhing with pleasure; her glasses fogged up and her lips parted into a perfectly kissable 'o' as a string of breathy whimpers and moans escaped from her under your skilled touch. Making a complete mess of your love and her study as you allowed her sweet slick to pour out over your wrist and onto the plush rug below you — with Blue much too lost in the moment to realise or care.

You, meanwhile, were trying your best to not follow suit, focusing all of your attention on her pleasure as you worked her using an all too familiar pattern. Rough and fast but not so much that it would have her screaming. Light touches and squeezes of her clothed breasts that would have her back arching but not cause her pain. It was a delicate balancing act, but one you'd yet to fail.

Her moans and trembles and bucks your guide as you kept on pleasuring her, adjusting her her needs without instruction or complaint and revelling in how responsive she was to your touch. Always at her service: thrusting your fingers faster into her dripping hole when she started to buck into your hand; adding pressure to her clit with the pad of your thumb when the lightest brush of the neglected bud against the heel of your palm coaxed a whorish moan from her lips; alternating between scissoring and crooking your fingers inside of her fluttering pussy as you searched for that one spongy spot that would have her toes curling — and, finally, once you'd found it starting to aggressively target it to push her over the edge of her climax. Positively abusing her sweet spot as you continued to gently play with her breasts and kiss the sensitive skin behind her ear.

Contrasting the rough treatment of her gushing cunt with gentle words and touches elsewhere in a way you knew she loved — smiling to yourself when you were finally able to give her that last shove over the edge.

'That's it, beautiful, I've got you,'

'You're taking this so well, I'm impressed,'

'That's my girl, always so receptive,'

'If I knew that this was waiting for me, I'd have come home sooner,'

'Let go, my love, I'm here,'

And let go she did. Climaxing with a thunderous cry of your name as she choked on her desperate sobs and moans, mind running a mile a minute whilst her body was lost to the torrent of pleasure you'd released upon her. Push clenching tightly around your fingers as you continued to fuck her through her release, unbothered by the slick that was coating your wrist and the floor beneath her — focused only on making her feel good. On going what you were asked, like the attentive spouse you were.

Taking care of her by keeping her in that high with your three aching digits in her cunt and your thumb circling her clit. Taking care of her by stroking her hair gently out of her face and adjusting the position of her glasses on her face from where they'd been left askew in the midst of her overstimulated arching and trembling. Taking care of her by peppering her throat and temple with kisses as you whispered gentle reassurances and praise to her that she was only able to respond to in whimpers — her own hands busy clutching at your shirt or bunching up her thick blue skirts.

'You're doing so well,'

'Think you can give me one more? I think you can,'

'You're so beautiful like this, Blue,'

'I love you,'

And it was that last sentence, that declaration, that echoed clearly through her mind as you guided her to the peak for a second time. Eyes brimming with tears, lips damp with spit, slick coating her sex and thighs and dress — but still feeling that spread of warmth in her core alongside the threatening wave of climax that crashed over her like a storm at sea.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

[boltvolta]

The War Rectangle.

It's completely troubling to me that people talk about how phones and the rest of the small, handheld, general-purpose computers we have now are such damaging acids to society's fabric. "They're raising a generation of iPad kids." "Liveleak damaged my innocence as a kid." "We don't know the full extent of the societal damage on-" It goes on and on and all the complaints are valid and need to be discussed, but they miss another, much more pertinant issue that these devices have in them; Your Phone is a dual-use technology, a weapon in every aspect in your life.

What does that term even mean? It's Military Jargon-ese for: 'This item, or thing, is used for civilian purposes, but can also easily be used in, for, or as a weapon of war at the drop of a hat.' Your phone can do this, it can do it so easily you don't even think about the dilemma that way. It's absurd and the absurdity crawled into your life while you were enthralled with being able to take the internet on the go.

You can kill a man with your phone and an FPV drone. Your choice in how he dies, from a dropped grenade or an RPG warhead duct taped to the front, or a million other ways to plant a payload into his body. You can even record a video of his death as your own little trophy to display. You can spot for artillery, interface with GPS-based navigation software and push out corrections to your entire teams tactical map, turn manhunts into trivial pursuits, upload intellegence of almost any kind to wherever it needs to go. They don't even need special phones to do this, they've been using 'Commercial-Off-The-Shelf' hardware since the early 2010's. You already knew that, though.

You can drain a persons life savings from their bank account, all from the park bench they passed you by. There's a million little holes in the systems that let you "manage" the money under your name that isn't even yours, and it only takes serendipity for someone fidding around to find a lucrative crack in the armor. Contactless payment, NFC and payment processors are just as big a vunerability as they are a convience. They don't even have to inconvience you to steal from you. But, You already knew that.

You can track people from their phones, with yours. It's not even hard, you probably haven't even thought about searching for the software to do it. Current Wifi and cellular chipsets can be used to sniff networks and track other end-user devices on them. You can war drive with a flagship smartphone if you need to, and modern laptops are more than capable of doing it now. You can hand off your entire life, digitally recorded, to a stranger without even knowing it, just likeyour money. Apple had to add additional software safeguards to Airtags because people used them to stalk other people by putting them in cars or other objects that people take with them. It's a service that uses regular peoples iPhones to make a gigantic network to ping that Airtags location to a central server somewhere in the bowels of Apple, and them beams it to you, keeping all that data in the meanwhile. You didn't pause to think about it, but you already knew that.

The algorithms people are concerned about, that they're still letting raise their kids, are more than just the content reccomendation they do. You can pattern an entire persons IQ quotient, disposition, disabilites, mental faculties, and politics just off their engagement with a service. Researchers could predict when people with BPD and gambling disorder would relapse or go on a gambling spree with a near 99% efficiency. Facebook openly admitted to experimenting on people to boost engagement with the site, negative content greatly encouraging extended interaction. Countless other sites with countless other controversies and manipulations and yet it still became normal under tired, doomscrolling eyes. Any government with enough arm-twisting, money, or subterfuge can buy, obtain, steal, and then scrutinize your digital identity, and then nudge you in the ways governments want to. It's still basic, baby steps now. Imagine how it'll be in a decades time when you can spool up an AI and feed it information about the algorithms your children use, in real time, feed the information it predicts about them back into those algorithms, all the time, to give them the right ideas, at the right moment, in the right tone, and they'll feel like those positions were just something they developed themselves, even if it was their clone who nudged them into an artificial headspace at the behest of a meeting in a government building somewhere. Again, you already knew that, it was just the quiet bit no one wanted to spit out lest they get odd looks.

We'll still use them though. Our progeny will still use them. In a sea of endless information, you have to stay plugged in, lest everything and everyone else pass you in the blink of an eye, like an F1 driver making a bad move, and getting thrown to back of the pack. No time to think. There's a weapon raised against you by leviathan hands in your pocket. You bought it and paid for it, your tax payed for the rest of it as well, and its aimed at your loved ones too. And you're running out of time in the epoch before its indispensable in your world, and your kids.

[lillipad72]

The Annotated Anne of Green Gables ~~ a special rereading

a little intro on how i will be doing things for this: generally I will not be commenting much on the story itself but more on the notes in the book i find most interesting and expanding/analyzing them :)

CHAPTER I ~~ Mrs. Rachel Lynde is Surprised + the epigraph

"The good stars met in your horoscope,/Made you of spirit and fire and dew." -Browning

This line is the first bit of text given by Montgomery, as seen in the epigraph. It comes from the poem "Evelyn Hope," by Robert Browning. This poem is about an old man lamenting the death of sixteen-year-old Evelyn and his love for her, which she never experienced. While the context makes this poem more morbid, the lines themselves are beautiful and lyrical. I am trying to figure out why Montgomery chose these lines to introduce Anne. Was it some deeper meaning she found in the poem? Was it the image of Evelyn that these lines describe? Did it match her image of Anne? Or something else entirely? Let me know what you think! (A watercolor of Evelyn from 1908 is above, and here is the poem)

"Mrs. Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed with alders and ladies' eardrops and traversed by a brook that had its source away back in the woods of the old Cuthbert place; it was reputed to be an intricate, headlong brook in its earlier course through the woods, with dark secrets of pool and cascade."

The first line of the actual story (more like a complex sentence)! I just wanted to take a second to appreciate our scenery here and specifically talk about the "ladies' eardrops." When first reading, I knew this must be a plant, for it followed alders, but I knew nothing about it. The more common names include jewelweed and spotted touch-me-not. This plant is native to North America and is mostly found near creeks. It spreads very rapidly and does not need cross-pollination! Actually, in the State of Washington, it is considered a weed due to its fast reproduction. I think that including this plant with specifically that uncommon name for it is used to draw us into the almost fantastical world full of wonder that is Anne's soon-to-be home, Prince Edward Island. Because even if you do not know which plant the name refers to, the name shouts beauty and delicacy. I have even more thoughts about the symbolism of this plant but fear that I might be looking too much into something that might just be a passing reference. Oh and above is a photo of ladies' eardrops!

"Mrs. Rachel found abundant time to sit for hours at her kitchen window, knitting "cotton warp" quilts -- she had knitted sixteen of them, as Avonlea housekeepers were wont to tell in awed voices."

While Rachel Lynde must have 'abundant time,' she also must be extremely fast at knitting. "Cotton warp" refers to a kind of yarn used for weaving, and she was actually making a bedspread. With this type of yarn, knit squares were not a thing; instead, she would have used elaborate lacy patterns. After researching, I found a post in which a woman described how long her mother took to crochet a similar type of quilt. It took her mother approximately 300 to 400 hours to complete. And Rachel knit sixteen of them and is on her seventeenth at this point. No wonder the Avonlea housekeepers were in awe. But that is not the end of her quilts. She gives Anne six quilts while in college (five are just lent, though), Diana gets one for her wedding, and another two for Anne upon her own wedding (also not clear if any of these are newly knitted for the occasion or ones she already has). Also, our favorite person, Lucy Maud Montgomery, knit three of her own 'cotton warp' quilts in her lifetime. One of which is known as the 'Crazy Quilt,' and a photo is above!

This chapter didn't have too many notes that I found super interesting, for most of them had to do with geography, and it is a shorter chapter, so I hope you enjoyed my findings on these three topics!

next chapter

[triedpklove]

Screenshots of the boy? I'd love to see how bad CF screwed the pooch.

So one of the main things in regards to how Roy has been written since day 1 is how he has always valued his work over himself and others -- ESPECIALLY its impact on the world. This has been fact since Calamity Trigger as shown in his side story, The Diary:

"Why do they not understand, why doesn't [Kokonoe, who is referred to as 'that woman' throughout] understand? As I've already said, this is a discovery that was lurking in the blind spot of our research. When it's the genius talking, and because a lot was said that today I feel it deeply. I definitely feel it. Firstly, only taking a light glance at it, then rejecting it as if some kind of dirt had touched it. Have you seriously stopped to think about it? It's possible. So why deny that possibility exists? If you have an answer within you then prove it to me. Something has to be done about that strange person. I've always felt that that woman is a strange one. Even if due to the deparment's spike in ability she may be a genius but that is different. In spite of being called a god that woman is useless. That woman is useless."

"Today I composed my thoughts once more. Today I had a little doubt about the design of the patterns so I omitted several vital parts in the previous entries. Right now humanity is flowing like blood, I'll explain now. It's become like this. Firstly about anti-seithr, it's the same phenomenon as the phenomenon of the Ars Magus phenomenon. To compensate for this ___ definitely the dangerous Azure which no one has noticed I'd do it once, eventually I want to skillfully, skillfully, do it. I'll have to discreetly do _______ thing ____ and that ______ was unexpected. Different from Ars Magus. Different from those Library vermin's Ars Magus. The huge Azure and azure's ______ bursts open, and the relief that forms quickly grows big, definitely rarely big so you cannot not notice it. Drawing near is dangerous, so first I have to extract that from the rear. It's directly close to the spine.If I rush there I'll die, that's for certain. After I extract the Azure ______ I'd really like to do that. I'll certainly have finally reached. I explained it with all my heart and soul, but no one is listening? to me it seems. So then I should just gently delete everyone. Gentlygentlygently_______"

Day 35 and 51 respectively.

The fact that he's so desperate to prove himself to others, ESPECIALLY KOKONOE, is the whole reason he injected himself with seithr in the first place. He wanted to prove to Kokonoe his work was worth something, even if that meant causing harm in the process.

As much as I dislike what Collisions did to Roy's backstory (as I find the idea of him being physically infected by seithr and melting into Arakune rather than him just simply. falling into the boundary and becoming Arakune more compelling and more terrifying) it did give us more insight on his character and his intentions past the little we knew from his diary and the occasional flashback we see as we play through Litchi's POV as well as her POV in Borderline and Kokonoe's POVs in That Which is Inherited.

Continued under the cut so my mega autism doesn't clog up people's dashes.

(lol, foreshadowing)

(All screenshots above are from Collisions.)

...I think that's more than enough to prove Roy's true mission and what he envisioned his work to become. And with both ways he was written, he both becomes victim to his own hubris -- whether it be him injecting himself with seithr or infusing himself with seithr via smelting. He has thrown all ethics out the window for his own research and has ruined relationships as he did so. (Although his relationship with Litchi is better detailed in Borderline.)

And then we get to Centralfiction.

Before you read this, you may think to yourself, "Oh, CF is simply a different scenario brought about by the Embryo! It makes sense that the writing would be different!" And yeah, you may be write, but in no way does it excuse it from ruining the character arcs we just saw build up throughout the past 3 games. It's pure salt in the wound and considering Centralfiction is the most fresh in a lot of BB story fans' minds it's frustrating to see a character/characters who have already been mistreated by interesting writing choices have their entire arcs ruined by some stupid AU plotline.

Honestly, I could go on forever about my opinion on this scene in it's entirety (and I have, here are some fun links) but all I really have to send is this picture:

For good measure, let's read that bottom line again:

Does that not... entirely go against literally everything I have just established previously? In this context, he's essentially telling Litchi to kill Arakune as he's okay with staying in the Boundary because the self satisfaction of studying the Boundary from the inside is more important to him than others seeing the fruits of his labor. Which entirely goes against his entire character that he has built up from Calamity Trigger until now. If you would like to watch the full scene, here is a link.

Roy is a very well written character, especially when in conjunction to Arakune, Litchi, and Kokonoe/Tager. I could very much go on more about how Centralfiction and it's decisions also destroyed the dynamic/friendship between Kokonoe but that would be another mile long post. So, I will instead share these two win quotes from Kokonoe -- one from Chronophantasma, and one from Centralfiction respectively:

"You've been infused with an Artificial Causality Weapon? Roy…"

vs.

"Kokonoe here. I've captured Lotte Carmine. Get him to my lab. Stat."

She doesn't even call him Roy.

Maybe I'll do another post detailing his relationship with Kokonoe but for now I have Japanese homework due in 30 minutes I need to get done. Hopefully this is a sufficient explanation on my opinions regarding Roy's writing in Centralfiction and how they dropped the ball on it horribly.

[melestiasworld]

enneagram > MBTI ?? (am I really saying that !?)

I was researching my enneagram type lately and I have a lot to unwrap

Amidst my attempt to organize the endless tabs on my phone, I stumbled upon an old Enneagram test result. It was surprisingly spot-on, articulating behaviors I've long recognized but struggled to articulate.

I'm a 9w1, and I've been watching Dr. Tom LaHue's videos about my type.

He was saying that 9s can, if not careful, mistake the taste, goal of other's for their own- something I know I tended to do a lot when I was younger Back then, I craved uniqueness so intensely I wanted to dress up differently, listen to different music -being like everyone else was disgusting to me. Looking back, I might have resembled a type 4 during that phase

but I'm glad I had this phase, it helped me cultivate my confidence and identity

I've also noticed a pattern where I struggle to voice my opinions naturally. It's something I've had to learn the hard way.

it takes effort for me to really put myself in thinking mode to connect with my true self and figure out what I truly desire Yet, when a topic strikes a chord, I don't hesitate to speak up. Tom was also saying how my default response to a question or a request is always “yes” when it should actually be “no”, so that I accept only what I truly desire

“you can find your real “yes” only by saying “no””

I mean, I already knew that of me, and what really helps me is seeing other people being assertive in their opinions

I love people-watching and seeing people stand their ground inspires me

I've recognized that I sometimes fear expressing my voice because I don't want to burden others. I'm capable of understanding multiple perspectives, making every option seem acceptable—but what do I truly want?

Combining assertiveness with kindness has been a struggle. I've been aware of this aspect of myself for some time, and I'm committed to improving.

We all have patterns that emerge when we're not in a healthy place. and the enneagram helps you see more clearly on this. In the vid, mr tom was going through the levels of health of 9s going from the worst to the best, I've stopped to the first because it resonated too much with me : My brain will do anything to keep me away from feeling any type of negative emotion, this actually has been really detrimental at one point in my life

I will get lost in my priorities and the things I need to get done so I’m doing fucking useless tasks like cleaning my shoes, cutting my bangs, or sorting the tabs on my phone when I have more pressing matters

I became aware of this problem a while ago when speaking to a therapist, did I buy a book to help me regulate my emotions? yes

did I read it? no

when will i read it ? who knows

dr. really putted the finger where it hurts, i think i really got to work on that

that was also said in some of the videos, 9w1’s are scared to be a burden or to be a burden because our biggest inner fear is being rejected by the ones we love

deep down I know that it is very true -nothing can keep people from leaving me

but what’s interesting would be to discover why do I harbor this fear of abandonment? Why do I crave safety so desperately? nobody really abandoned me, nor left me, I never had problems making friends, so where does it come from? I’m going to look into that during the several hours of reflections I have during my nightly reflections

I thought I had myself all figured out, that I’ve spent too much time pondering my identity, my values, and desires Yet life just keeps impressing me and putting me in situations where I have to work on myself again and evolve

its like rediscovering myself, or building a new version of me

I do not want to die knowing I haven’t achieved the final version of me; I want to reach my full potential

but I'm so thrown between the melissa who strives for greatness and has all of those crazy goals and the melissa who wants to rot in bed and do absolutely nothing - a topic for another rant

[advnterccs-archive]

@countlessrealities sent; The perk of having so many people in the house was that no one noticed if you sneaked off for a little while. And, since they weren't allowed to hide away without their Moms coming to force them back, Morty jumped on the first moment when everybody was looking elsewhere to grab his counterpart by the hand and pull him out of the living room and up the stairs.

Going that far wasn't strictly necessary, but he wanted to make sure that no one would walk on them. Not because they would be doing something they shouldn't, but considering what had happened during their Halloween date...He wanted to have the privacy. He wasn't expecting more of it to happen that day, but...just in case.

"Uh, he-hey, I...I just wanted to give you...y-you know. Your present," he spoke up once they were in the corridor, hidden away from whoever might have stepped in the hall. "I-I know how much you like plants, s-so I did some researches an-and I got these for you during my trips w-with Rick. An-And I might have sneaked on the Citadel to buy a few more."

The package he handed over was small, but neatly wrapped. He wasn't usually the best at wrapping presents, but he had put in an extra effort for this one. The paper he had picked was yellow with a snowflake pattern and it came with a dark blue ribbon. Inside there was a box, carefully partitioned in little cells, each other them holding seeds of different forms and colours. On the back there was a table holding the names of the flower that would grow from each seed, all not native of Earth.

"I-I made sure that they can be grow here an-and there's a, uh, little chip with instructions. S-So you can see what each plant needs an-and when to water them and...all that."

His cheeks flushed pink as he bowed his head a little, peering at his counterpart. "I-I hope you like it."

[[ My Morty for your Morty || He's still thinking about that kiss X3 So shy, look at him xD Looking forward to New Year's >:) ]]

Being whisked away from everyone was both nerve wrecking and a relieve, Morty could feel his palms start to sweat as he made his way up the stairs, being pulled along by his counterpart. His heart beat fast. Just being alone, especially with how things happened during Halloween, it sent all of his nerves into to spark.

For a moment, he couldn't help to just gaze into those hazel eyes in front of him. He could feel himself freeze on the spot. So mesmerized. It reminded him of that date. How they were so close and closer and closer. Until...

When the gift was handed over, he snapped out of his thoughts. He smiled as he took it, taking in the prettily decorated paper. He didn't want to ruin how neat it looked or destroy the paper.

Carefully, he began to search for the edges of the tape. His fingernails scratching up to lift it off the paper. Slowly he would peel it away until each piece of tape was undone -- with some minor damage, but that's it. Unfolding the paper and letting it fall to the floor, it revealed the box.

Soft brown eyes bounced between the divided sections of the seeds. The gift was so thoughtful and he knew exactly where to plant them (and perhaps he could use this as an excuse to invite his counterpart over a lot more.)

"Th-This is -- I --," He felt his throat constrict, unable to say any words. Too nervous, too stunned to say anything.

Instead, he lifted his head. His heart raced a lot faster as he took a few steps closer. Eyes widened when he realized what his own mind and body decided on doing.

Before he could second guess himself, or even stop himself, he reached his hand out to cup the other's cheek. His eyes closed as lips were pressed against the ones before him. In a lingering, short kiss. If it were up to him, he would've allowed it for a lot longer. Yet, he wasn't sure. Everything was still confusing and he didn't know if this would even be reciprocated.

When he pulled away from the kiss, he blinked his eyes open. Pink hues appearing on his cheeks. "We, uh, w-we should go back downstairs," He let out a small laugh, trying to ease the tension. "Uh, th-thanks for this, I-I like it a lot."

[kiemiu]

batman!matt having a crush on civilian!reader | ( gender neutral!reader ) fluff + lowkey yandere/obsessive!matt + soft hours + light angst. established romantic feelings headcanons. w/ scenarios wc 1.4k (library) + (request)

batman!matt who first spots you at a charity event. you were simply there to host other patrons, one hand holding plates of shrimp martini's and another hand holding a tray lined with glasses of champagne. you stood as still as a statue, afraid of possibly making the wrong move and causing complete chaos. he noticed. he noticed the way your arms slightly trembled from all of the weight of the glasses, he also noticed how your co-worker who was supposed to be helping you carry the trays around had gotten pulled away by a much richer and older woman into a private area.

batman!matt who dodges conversation with other attendees with short quipped answers as he makes his way to you, easily lifting the weight of the tray off of one of your hands and holding it himself. "you look like you could use some help." was the first thing he ever said to you, and the rest was history.

batman!matt who had to be sure of you. a part of him felt creepy, but another part was telling him that it was for his own safety. he was a billionaire as well as thee most notable superhero in gotham. all it takes is one slip-up for him to get exposed or killed and he just couldn't take that risk. his intrigue led him to researching you. any and all information he could dig up about you, he did. going from basic things to what college you were currently attending to more personal things like what hospital you were born in, and your job history. he had to make sure you had no connections to anyone dirty, you or your close-friends and family members. it took him almost a month to pursue you any further since that night. having to deal with his own emotional turmoil before he finally gave you the benefit of the doubt.

batman!matt who has grown obsessed with you. that night he first saw you, he thought you were a pretty little thing but nothing more. he knew if he had gotten himself involved with you he wouldn't be able to pull himself out, and as much as he wanted to stay away, and mentally scolded himself for even thinking about you, he just couldn't fight the urges that grew in him day-by-day. all he wanted was to see you. what were you up to? were you safe? are you taking care of yourself? these weren't questions that had ever crossed his mind about anyone else until you came into his life. now all he can think about is you. you. you. and the next time he'll get to see you.

batman!matt who runs into you at your favorite bookstore. he coincidentally seems to bump into you at your favorite book store after he's noticed a pattern on your debit cards spending history. you come around this specific bookstore every other saturday to buy a book or two, it's usually always after you get your paycheck. it's nothing notable, just a cramped bookstore on the edge of town. it has its charms, he can admit. the books are in great shape, the smell of coffee invades the bookstore almost overwhelmingly, but not in a bad way, and the pillars splayed across the store for foundation are covered in warm toned fairy lights. he can see why you like it here so much, it's nothing like the dark, gloomy, wrath of gotham, it's quite the opposite. and it reminds him of you. he spots you at the library a few times before he finally decides to approach you. a timidness to him as he makes his way over, but before he can say his rehearsed introduction, you speak first. "finally decided to stop watching me from the shadows?"

batman!matt who's complicated. he expresses interest in you and your personal life but never goes past the surface with his. the only time you two ever see each other is at the book store when he's dressed incognito and even then, his visits are sporadic. you expect that he's a busy man considering he has his own business to run but a part of you starts to feel played. you don't understand him, and whenever you bring it up, he brushes you off. he never talks about what he does outside of work, nor does he ever answer the question of where his scratches and bruises come from and after awhile it starts to irritate you. you make it clear to him as he's getting ready to abruptly leave in the middle of one of your meet ups that you no-longer want to see him because of how secretive he's been. he hesitates, and there's a visible hurt in his eyes before he ultimately runs out of the store and down the street, leaving you defeated and confused.

batman!matt who misses you. he can't stand the way things ended between the two of you. the most he's ever done for you was buy your books for you the few times you did meet up together and talk, that was when you'd let him. yet, he still felt this deep pressure residing in his chest right where his heart is. he missed you. bouquets of red roses started to show up on your doorstep, piles of books you've been wanting to read had already been bought and set aside, waiting to be taken home by you, your coffee at your frequently visited cafe had been paid for in advance for the rest of the year, and suddenly the sundress you had been dying to get, arrived on your doorstep, freshly wrapped in red ribbon with a note attached 'no mannequin can enhance the beauty of this dress like you can. m.s ♡' you missed him.

batman!matt who can no longer stay away from you. he never fully stayed away, he still visited your most frequented place every other saturday, he just stayed hidden in the confines of his car. watching you through the glass of his car window and the shops for a few minutes before driving off so you couldn't spot him. it was torture being able to see you but not be in your presence, he was driving himself crazy, as well as his butler. alfred, wasn't blind. he was quick to notice the downward shift in his mood, not that matt usually wasn't stoic but the way he carried himself with uncertainty showed he was dealing with a lot more than villains and charity banks. it takes alfred planting the seed into his master's mind that 'you never know with certainty until you try.' until he takes full action and goes after you.

batman!matt who invites you on a date. he's surprisingly nervous as he waits patiently at the table for two. he sent you another bouquet of roses, this time the note attached asked for you to meet him at a restaurant and wear the dress he had bought you. he was worried. what if you don't show up? what if the word gets out and there's reporters waiting outside? oh god, what if there's reporters outside waiting and they know he's been stood up? his mind is racing constantly and he can't seem to get it to stop. each thought worse than the last and becoming more self-deprecating. a few more minutes pass from the original meet up time that he had set, 14 minutes to be exact and he starts to lose all hope. just as he stands from his current place and looks up from his finished wine glass, there you are. clad in a deep red floor length dress while holding a small black clutch. you feel like you stick out like a sore thumb in this 5-star restaurant but matt thinks the complete opposite. "you came." he quietly muttered. "why wouldn't i?" you ask with soft retaliation.

batman!matt who stops fighting his feelings for you. that night he knew he was a goner. you had shown up even though you had no real reason to. you sat with him, listened to him talk about his worries about pursuing a relationship with you, and you didn't judge him. you told him about your own boundaries and insecurities with starting a relationship with someone like him and he listened with intent, realizing you both had your own problems on the line. but in that moment nothing felt rushed, nothing felt fabricated. it all felt real, and genuine. the both of you agreed on starting things off slow, and he couldn't have been happier. he's no longer fighting his feelings for you and is embracing them instead.

' 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ' 🥡: @emely9274 @ginswife @madifilipowiczsworld @chrisstvrns @conspiracy-ash @sturnina @lovetaylorrussellgrr @nervoussagittarius @sacaydia @chrissturnsss @hearts4werka @chrisprincesss @koilaniazul

[pahtoosh]

cozy corner

[image ID: a photocollage with pink borders. the collage has two photos of assorted stuffed animals and one photo of stuffed animals in a pink tent with fairy lights. /.end ID]

18+

masterlist

wc: ~950 words

warnings: extreme fluff. almost a thousand words of saying how much Bucky loves you. the word "daddy" is only used twice at the end. Bucky carries reader.

a/n: thank you so much for the love on "puffles, Daddy"! it inspired me to write this little piece based on the phrase "their separate bedroom that was more often used as a playroom than their sleeping quarters". I have four other drafts with the same pairing but I'm holding them hostage until more of you angels start commenting or reblogging😈

pairing: mafia!daddy!bucky x gn!little!reader

summary: Bucky makes a cozy little spot for his baby

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Bucky didn’t know you were a little at the start of your relationship. He’d heard the term caregiver before, but he didn’t know how much he’d enjoy being one until he met your little self. The first time he was with you as you went into the headspace, he fell in love with the added dynamic in your relationship. You took some time to feel comfortable with slipping around him, but he let you take your time and assured you that he loved you in both headspaces along the way. 

He dove into researching caregiver/little relationships, only wanting the best for you. He did ask you what you needed from him and learned to read your nonverbal cues to fill in the blanks, but the research was helpful for things that you yourself weren’t aware of. He’d also turn to his notes when you were little and needed something, but were too far into the headspace to advocate for yourself. The accounts from other littles and more experienced caregivers helped him feel more confident in caring for you. 

One of the ideas expressed in these relationships was to have separate bedrooms. At first, Bucky wrote off this idea because he liked being close to you, especially at night and when you first woke up. But then he read about how much the separate space helped other littles, and he knew he had to at least try. 

He started by completely redecorating the bedroom right next to the master. The walls were painted in your favorite color, the hard floor now had soft rugs, and he built a coffee table for your tea parties(or business meetings as you called them). 

At first, the new room confused you. Your little brain feared that Bucky didn’t wanna sleep next to you anymore and that you had become an annoyance. He quickly took in your crestfallen face and told you the purpose of the room, assuring you that you could still sleep with him if you wanted and that this was just another option. 

Now feeling much better, you took in your surroundings. You absolutely loved the decorations Bucky had chosen and began to daydream about spending your time in this room that was perfectly catered towards you. The bedspread was just as soft as the one in the master, but it had a fun pattern. And all your coloring supplies and toys were placed in organized, easily accessible drawers along the wall. Even in your state of mind, you could see that Bucky put a lot of time and effort into this room. 

Your eyes began to water and you tackled Bucky with a hug. He rubbed your back and pressed a kiss to your head. “Do you like it, bubba?” You nodded into his shirt, too shy to say anything.  

Throughout the following weeks, you spent more and more time in your room. You mostly slept in the master bedroom with Bucky, but now you liked playing and coloring in your room instead of in the living room or on the dining table. Even though this room was fully your space, Bucky still maintained that you had to put your toys and markers away when you weren’t using them. He’d help you if you asked of course, but he wanted to teach you to take care of your space and your belongings. 

After helping you clean so many times, Bucky noticed that you really liked taking out all of your stuffed animals and laying in a pile of them. At first he thought there was an issue with your bed, but you took naps in it just fine. When he asked you about it, you just said it was cozy and began picking at a loose thread on your shirt, a little embarrassed. 

Bucky had a feeling that this pile did more for you than you could express at the moment, so he decided to make it a permanent fixture in your room. The next day, you took a nap on your shared bed while he got to work. He rearranged the furniture in your room and collected extra blankets and pillows around the house to make what you would later call your “cozy corner”. 

When you woke up from your nap, he had you close your eyes as he carried you towards the next room to reveal the surprise. When you finally got to see what Bucky had been up to, you were delighted by the new addition. You wiggled a bit and pointed towards the corner while still in his arms, prompting him to carry you closer to get a better look. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you admired the display. He felt so grateful that you trusted him with this vulnerable part of yourself, letting him see every emotion on your face. Right now, you were displaying pure joy. 

“You wanna try it out? See if it’s as cozy as how you usually make it?” he asked. 

You nodded excitedly, prompting Bucky to joke about your head falling off your shoulders. He gently set you down on the center of the pile. A happy sigh escaped your lips as you melted into the assortment of soft materials. Bucky felt so fulfilled from seeing his baby enjoy his work. 

You had never felt so comfortable, but there was one thing that could make this better. You reached your arms out towards Bucky. “Join me, Daddy! Please?” 

He dove right into the pile, hugging you to his chest and kissing all over your face. You spent the next few hours in your cozy corner cuddled up to your daddy as you watched one of your favorite cartoons.

[zoobiefish]

Yooo, why was I not informed about what Auctober is??? We’re about halfway through the month and I’ve only just recently heard of it! I got some catching up to do, so without further ado, here we go!

Day 01: Stims

I am a biiiiig time stimmer! I mostly use my fidget toys to stim, but another common stim I have is shaking my feet. I tend to shake my feet when I’m idle and have a bit too much energy or I’m excited. I kind of think of it like a dog wagging its tail when it’s excited lol I do a lot of vocal stims too like humming, repeating dialogue from media, singing or just saying words I like out loud.

Day 02: Infodumping

Omg, I am horrible with infodumping 😅 I will infodump at any given opportunity unless someone clearly tells me to shut up haha. I sometimes annoy people with how much I infodump and people have repeatedly told me “no offense Zoob, but I really don’t care,” and like I get it but also wow, rude. I often infodump about space, biology, history (especially art history), The Legend of Zelda, languages, pschology and cosmic horror. I have a pretty wide range of special interests and hyperfixations and it means a lot when someone actually allows me to infodump about them. Infodumping about my own interests may come across as selfish, but it’s not my intention. Infodumping is actually what helps me connect with people and is how I show that I do want to connect!

Day 03: Collections

The biggest collection I have is my fidget toy collection! I have an entire big bin full of them and I may or may not impulse buy them sometimes 😅 I also collect Legend of Zelda games and merchandise. I’m thinking when I eventually have a place of my own, my bedroom will be completely Zelda themed 😝

Day 04: Animal Friends

My favourite animal is cats! I particularly like maine coons because of how big and fluffy they are and they have such a sweet temperament 🥰 I have a maine coon with a tabby coat pattern named Curry. He is such a sweetie and he comforts me when I’m overwhelmed or I’m having a meltdown. When he notices I’m upset, he’ll climb up on my lap or my stomach depending on whether I’m sitting or lying down and he’ll start purring and nuzzling me until I calm down. He always wants to be around me and follows me from room to room throughout the day. He even sleeps on top of my head on my pillow at night, or sometimes he’ll sleep at the foot of my bed. According to the research I’ve done online, cats will typically sleep by your feet because it’s easier to look out for you and alert you when there’s danger. They can be quite protective of their beloved humans! One time I remember waking up in the early hours of the morning with a horrible headache on the left side of my head above my eye. As if he knew, Curry came into my bedroom, laid down in his usual spot above my head and gently placed his paw on the spot where my head hurt. He is such a sweetheart and I have no idea what I’d do without him 💖

Day 05: Music

Music is one of my favourite ways to stim! I listen to music to either get pumped, relax or help me focus. I have comorbid ADHD along with my autism, and so whenever I’m studying or reading a book I have to put on instrumental music in order to focus. I do the same when I’m writing my own book! Typically when I play instrumental music, it’s usually lo-fi, classical, videogame OSTs or ancient Celtic music. When I play music just for funsies or so I can stim-dance to it, I play a wide range of stuff! I like some pop music (my guilty pleasure), jazz, electroswing, rock and again, videogame OSTs. Music is honestly my therapy haha

Day 06: Stim Toys

Like I mentioned before, I have a huuuuge stim toy collection! My favourites are my fidget cube, my fidget pads (they look like mini Super Nintendo controllers!), my click track and this mini keyboard thingy I bought off Etsy. I take fidget toys everywhere I go! They help a lot with my focus and I often use them when I’m trying to talk or pay attention in a conversation. I know some people might see it as rude, so I explain ahead of time that these are not just toys, but tools I use to aid in my disability.

Day 07: Hyperfocus

I tend to hyperfocus a lot when I’m doing crafts, artwork, when I’m writing or playing videogames. I don’t think I hyperfocus quite as much as other autistic people do but it can sometimes get out of hand. Sometimes it feels almost as though I’m in a trance and even if I can hear someone talking to me or my phone going off it won’t register for me to answer while I’m in that trance. I often lose track of time easily when I’m hyperfocused as well. It’s like the rest of the world sort of doesn’t exist anymore—it’s just me and whatever task I’m focused on that makes up the universe. Whenever I snap out of my hyperfocus, it almost feels like waking up from an intense dream. I almost feel like a character in a sci-fi that wakes up from being cryogenically frozen for several hundred years: “where am I?? What year is it???”

Day 08: Diverse

I have a wide range of friends of different genders and backgrounds that are autistic or at least neurodivergent in some way! Most of us are also queer in some way as well. Myself, I’m nonbinary, biromantic and asexual. I think I may or may not be arospec in some way too but I’m not sure 🤔 My partner is agender, demiromantic (he isn’t sure about which genders he’s attracted to, he essentially says he’s “Zoobromantic” because he’s attracted to me haha!) and also asexual! And both of us are autistic!

Day 09: Comfort Food

My comfort food is very odd. So, I’m Canadian, and for those who don’t know about it, we have a popular restaurant chain called “Tim Horton’s.” It’s a coffee and donut shop. I dunno, I think the US counterpart is like Dunkin’ Donuts or something…? 🤔 Anyway, they make these things called “iced cappucinos,” or “iced capps” as they’re affectionately called. They’re kinda like iced coffee but sweeter I guess and they have more of a Slushy consistency. I think it’s a combo of the taste and texture that I like about iced capps…and also the caffeine 😂😂😂 They just give me so much dopamine and make my little autistic-ADHD brain happy. Other comfort foods include coffee and tea because ~ w a r m t h ~

Day 10: Self-Care

Self-care is something I take part in every day, whether I need it or not. My favourite things to do as self-care particularly when I’m sad or overwhelmed or overstimulated etc. is to make myself a hot cup of tea, curl up in my favourite moon chair in my studio, dim or shut off the lights, wrap my heavy blanket around myself, put on my headphones on with my iPad and watch my comfort shows. (Currently my comfort show is Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 🐢). Other self-care activities include playing my favourite videogames to unwind from stress, take warm baths with bubble bath and/or bath bombs, working out and taking naps.

Day 11: Neurodivergent Community

As I previously said, I have several friends that are autistic and/or neurodivergent in some way! In fact, I’m uncertain whether I have any that *aren’t* ND! 🤷 They’re the ones that make up most of my ND community and then I also got all you folks on Tumblr! I’m hoping to find an in person support group though. I think it would really help me out to talk with other people about my struggles as an autistic/ADHD person in a more therapeutic setting.

Day 12: Sensory Euphoria

One of the weirdest sensory euphoria moments for me is having my feet submerged in water. Not my whole body, but just my feet. I don’t know what it is!! But it feels so soothing! Especially in the water is running or it’s in a river or something. But my absolute favourite sensory euphoria moment is sitting in a sensory swing!! I really wish I had one!! 😭😭😭 I’ve tried them at stores and my cousin’s house and they’re sensory *heaven!!* When I move out I’m hoping I can afford to get my own. Swings in general are just *chef kiss* 👌

And finally, Day 13: Alternative Communication

I don’t really use alternative communication tbh as I am quite verbal. I did have Selective Mutism for over a year when I was a child and almost had to learn ASL but I started speaking again. (Now I just teach myself ASL for fun!) I guess the closest thing I do to alternative communication is that I will text or PM people instead of talking to them in person if I am too overwhelmed with emotion to physicallt speak. Huh, maybe I’m not completely verbal after all…? I’m still figuring that out tbh 🧐

And with that, I am caught up and now I am tired! I am going to do my best to keep up with the prompts now that I’m aware what Auctober is 😂😂😂😂 I might even do some drawings with some of the prompts, who knows! We’ll see 😜