#but it's also way more difficult and time consuming and frustrating

[blackynsupremacy]

HIS LITTLE

BOOKWORM

pairing: nicholas a. chavez x black!fem!reader

summary: it’s the year 1991. top man on campus and college senior, nicholas chavez, is finding it difficult to stay on task to study for midterms. how else could he concentrate when his growing infatuation of the newest librarian keeps getting worse?

guest starring: michael evans behling as calvin and rudy pankow as chad.

a/n: my first official smut fic, so please be kind! reblogs are highly appreciated. if you like it, should i do a part two?

contains: 18+ content mdni, lots of words, 90s au, 15 year age gap (nicholas is 22 and reader is 37) reader is divorced, swearing, mention of cheating, alcohol consumption, partying, wet dreams, sensual fantasy, sexual tension, flirting, making out, groping, fingering, oral (f! receiving), squirting, public sex (but no one can see it), masturbation, morally gray nicholas, nicholas is obsessed with reader, nicholas is a pervert, but also respects reader.

taglist: @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @thabiddie23 @hoffmansgirl @austeenbootler @greengoblinswifey @hnch33rios @supaprettyg @xoxoglittergossip @ellethespaceunicorn @rosiestalez @sabrinasopposite @camiesully @tryingtograspctrl @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @sheydnni

nicholas chavez was used to strutting the emerald pathways of the university he attended with such an air of confidence, but this time was different. this time was fucked. it was now an air of utter frustration and instead of strutting, he was trudging down the sidewalk hard enough that creases could be forming on his new, pristine adidas sneakers. he didn’t really give a fuck though. he just needed to get to this library, meet his friend, calvin, and cram the best way he could for a good hour or two. after three years of working his ass off to maintain his full-ride, he thought it was a great idea for him to let loose more often and kick back with his friends this time around. one could diagnose nicholas with the classic case of “senioritis”, but he’d call it giving a guy a break. when it came to the topic of college parties, his parents would advise him not to overdo it, but nichloas was a grown ass man now, so he can make his grown ass decisions with some grown ass control. that’s if answering every single page from calvin that signaled an event containing available booze, joints, and pussy within a few miles was control—or, perhaps consuming so much alcohol the night before a lecture where nicholas would be rushing out of his apartment with a piercing headache that grew stronger due to the burning light of the sun as he tries to make it on time was control. it was all catching up to him now as midterms were looming in and no matter how much the cares of the world lifted off his shoulders while doing body shots off the spray tanned abdomen of a pam anderson wannabe, he knew couldn’t fuck those up.

a deep sigh of relief escapes from his chest after he finally approaches the classic, colossal structure of the academic building. nicholas steps forward and pulls the handle of the door for him to be granted access. the interior had a hardwood floor as the walls were plastered with various portraits of the college’s most notable along with some inspirational quotes from authors and historical figures. the bookshelves were arranged against the walls that held endless rows of texts that varied in every researchable area that could fit the need of each student. it wasn’t swamped, but there was a good twenty-five people who also had the same idea as nicholas. his brown eyes dart from table to table until they land on the familiar face of calvin and another mutual friend they’ve occasionally partied with named, chad. making haste, nicholas approached the table.

“it’s about time your ass showed, chavez.” calvin quipped, leaning back in the wooden chair as he twiddled a pencil between his fingers. he then leaned forward to catch nick’s hand in a casual dap, with chad following suit. nicholas sat his black jansport backpack in the empty chair beside him and proceeded to take the necessary books out after sitting down.

“cal, don’t be a dick. i’m here aren’t i?” nicholas retorts with a roll of his eyes, opening the textbook to the correct page. chad picked up on the tone of annoyance.

“woah, who pissed on your parade? sounds like someone didn’t get any sleep last night. haha—ow!” chad’s snickers were cut off with nick’s foot thrashing against his shin.

“the fuck was that for!” chad whispered as he hissed while rubbing the painful area of his leg. calvin placed a hand over his mouth to muffle his hysterical laughter while nicholas was too busy reviewing material and jotting down important notes to even care,

“just for being you, chad.” nicholas dryly replied not taking his eyes off the page. exhausted from laughter, calvin took a breath and tried to ease the tension.

“in his defense, you did go overboard with those shots last night, man. there was also the keg, and the beer pong tournament—”

“say another word or i’ll kick your balls right under this goddamn table, calvin.” nicholas calmly fired, still not looking up from the page. calvin knew nick was pissed at the use of his full name. he chuckled one last time waving the white flag to resume to his book and their table was filled with silence again. nicholas was really paying for his sins now. his hand was starting to cramp at all of the notes he was writing, he felt the fatigue was about to set in when his lids start to droop down. shit, he can’t crash now. nicholas peered at the clock ticking on the wall, even that sound at such a low volume was making this hangover worse. he groaned and plopped his head down on the table, massaging his temple in agony when he heard a voice that didn’t belong to calvin nor chad. it was of a female, but not like the typical ones that they’d mess around with. the voice was soft, but carried a weight of genuine sincerity.

“i hate to be a bother, but are you boys alright over here?”

who the hell could it be to pester him now? when nicholas lifted his head from the table to give this broad a piece of his mind for her impromptu disturbance, his hardened brown gaze immediately softened to one of captivation when he saw—you. you stood at the head of the table holding a bottle of water in your hand. you were wearing a pristine long-sleeved white button up blouse that was slightly unbuttoned by the top to at least expose the brown skin of your neck. a black velvet pencil skirt hugged around your hips perfectly as it fell right above your knees and your dark natural hair was put up in a french roll bun with a couple of loose curls falling in front of your face. there was no doubt in nicholas’ mind that you were definitely older, but damn. you looked stunning for whatever age you may be. speaking of your face, nicholas found himself to be transfixed by your smooth brown skin. you had warm coffee eyes, your lashes fluttered beneath your black rectangular glasses, and your lined full lips were painted with clear gloss. he was so deep in his observation of your—everything, nicholas didn’t notice how tongue tied he was and that calvin had to be the one to speak on his behalf,

“uh-um, yeah! he’s just a little y’know—” he stammered.

“hungover?” you whisper, finishing his sentence as you leaned in closer to nicholas to further inspect his condition. while reading at your desk, you caught a glimpse of the three young men at the table a few feet from you. they did the usual banter of ripping into each other before resuming their studies until you noticed that the brunette suddenly plopped his face down to the table. you knew it all too well and you had the proper solution, so you made your way over to check in and possibly be of assistance.

“uh, yeah. i guess you could say that.” calvin responded surprised by your straightforwardness.

“mm-hm. i understand! i actually got a table filled with water, coffee, and snacks in that room over there in the corner for midterms week.” you pause and point in the direction of the room in which he and chad peer over. “i get how stressful this time could be, so please help yourselves to whatever you’d like. maybe your friend could use some water.”

calvin and chad’s eyes glimmered at the mention of free food while nicholas still sat there looking like a hypnotized fool that hasn’t uttered a word since your arrival. he’s never frozen like this in the presence of any woman before and here you were, chatting it up with his sleazy ass friends. chad sung his praises as he was already starving,

“gee, thanks! that’s really dope of you ms.—”

“just y/n is fine. i’m actually the new head librarian for the university! i’ve started about two weeks ago.” you mentioned gesturing to the general area that was filled with roaming students. “and you’re very welcome, hun! this is all just a way to make sure students have what they need to be successful.”

“well, can i just say that it was definitely a pleasure to meet you? maybe i need to come here more often.” calvin flashed his signature charming grin, his eyes briefly raking your figure. a tad awkward under his gaze, you knew it was time to get back to work. you give a court nod towards the trio,

“well—it was great to meet you! enjoy the snacks and good luck on your exams.”

the temperature of nicholas’ face rises as his cheeks glow with the shade of a faded rose when he sees your lips form into a smile at calvin’s compliment. this strange emotion he was feeling grew more intense when you gently placed your palm on nicholas’ shoulder. the water bottle that was in your other hand was now placed beside of his textbook. he could’ve sworn that the closer you leaned into him, he could surely peek down into your shirt to see your breasts. a smile of reassurance graces your face and you considerably speak in a low volume,

“if you ever need anything, don’t be afraid to ask, dear. i hope this helps. god knows, it’s helped me!” you joke, sending him a wink and bade the group to continue with their work before going off to do some organizing of inventory. the trio’s eyes are pulled into the subtle sway of your hips, heads were tilted to get a proper view of the outline of your ass when you saunter in the opposite direction, your sleek black heels accentuate the calf muscles of your smooth, brown legs. as soon as you disappear from their view, chad and calvin let out a low whistle, giving each other some daps.

“man, let me tell you something. it’s like living in a porno, she’s the hottest librarian i’ve ever seen!” calvin commented, his fingers stroking his groomed facial hair as he bit his lip at the thought of you. chad leaned back in his chair with his hands ruffling in his dirty blonde hair to stop them from going down in his jeans.

“you said it, dude. i don’t give a fuck how old she is, i’d knock the absolute dust off that pu—”

“would you guys stop?”

at their words, nicholas had finally came back to reality. they were absolutely right. you were fine as fuck. utterly fuckable by any means necessary, but there was something else about you that was more than making nicholas’ dick twitch. you didn’t know him from a can of paint and here you were like an angel, providing him with a solution after seeing him on the brink of passing out while his “friends” just sat there and shrugged it off as another hangover. it was, but nicholas wasn’t usually at the top of his game and it would only get worse if he didn’t get his shit together. it was just a simple gesture, but your concerned gaze paired with an understanding smile made him feel—warm. yet, he’d still want to bend you over one of these tables and hike up that skirt to see what you were working with of course. he’d never tell those goons at his table that though. it didn’t help that nicholas was getting pissed that they were talking about you like were one of those skanks at the parties they attended on campus. you just gave them a warm welcome and this is how they repay you? he had to put a stop to this.

“god, you guys are pigs. that’s probably somebody’s wife—or mom.” nicholas aggressively chided, his harsh gaze had returned. the guys send nicholas an appalled stare of confusion. their brows quirk at this new defensive attitude, nicholas was usually a bit cranky during a hangover, but now it looked like as if they were going to get their asses kicked because of casual dirty talk that they always engaged in.

“the hell is your problem, man? i got a good look at her and i sure as shit didn’t see a ring. plus, we were just complimenting the broad. don’t get so pissy.” chad protested leaning forward to his original position.

“yeah, she’s hot. weren’t you checking her out too? you were like a deer in headlights. you couldn’t even fucking talk to her, man.” calvin stated and gestured to the water that still sat untouched in front of nicholas, “don’t forget to sober up when you actually talk to your new girlfriend.” nicholas silently responded with his middle finger to the air. with a peeved chuckle, calvin tapped chad on the shoulder for them to take a break from the conversation and get a snack from the table in the room you’ve mentioned earlier.

when finally alone, nicholas’ eyes darted around the building in an attempt to seek you out, just to thank you for the water obviously. it was the least he could do after demonstrating such an embarrassing first impression. he couldn’t find you while sitting, so he took a few gulps of water and stood from his chair with a new wave of energy surging through his body. he wasn’t a hundred percent himself, but he was definitely better than he was ten minutes earlier. you could be anywhere in here, but nicholas was willing to take a chance to see you again when he conducted his search. it takes a few minutes as he travels shelf by shelf until he pauses to find you between two bookshelves, you were a couple feet away from him as you were squatting down sorting through the titles. nicholas stealthily leaned against the shelf, his eyes catching the skirt hike further up your closed knees the more you moved. god, how he wanted to see what was underneath. you had a concentrated furrowed gaze as you meticulously read the print, your finger pushed your glasses up on the bridge of your nose whenever you felt them slide down.

it amazed nicholas that you were still oblivious to his presence for the past three minutes. he could tell that you were into the literature you were organizing, his mind wandered to what type of books you’ve read. would you be into non-fiction, like history and science? classic literature? perhaps, greek tragedy? romance? he’d figure chicks of any age liked that kind of mushy shit. he inspected your hands, notably the left that had a bare ring finger. chad was correct, you weren’t tied down at all. before his internal interrogation of you could continue, it was all broken when he heard your voice.

“oh, hello there, again!” you enthusiastically greet, your voice soft and inviting. “is there anything i can help you with?” you inquired, halting your task. you dust your hands and stand up right to smooth down your skirt. he stopped leaning when you stepped closer. he didn’t want to seem so informal. with his hands buried in his pockets, he managed to get a word out without trying to sound like a bumbling idiot,

“uh, no, ma’am. i just—wanted to thank you for the water. it actually really helped ‘cause i wasn’t feeling too hot back there. it was cool for you to do that, so thanks.” nicholas spoke with a nervous, yet amicable tone. he tries not to blush under your benevolent gaze before he continues,

“i know i was zoned out, but you said your name was y/n, right? well, i’m nicholas. nicholas chavez. it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he held out his hand for yours to grasp, it was a tad smaller compared to his. as your earth toned fingers wrapped around his palm, his mind began to wander how they would look sunken deep within your—

“ah, yes, nicholas! i believe i’ve heard of you at my first staff meeting not too long ago. you hold an outstanding record here at the college. from what i’ve heard, you’re an exemplary student that’s on his way to a bright future. that’s surely impressive.”

holy shit, it was like every interaction with you caused a switch between his dick and his heart. it was terrifyingly exhilarating. you’d just saw him in the most embarrassing moment and yet, you didn’t scold nor judge him like any other uppity professor. you were impressed. with a humble demeanor, he thanked you for your praises even though a rush of arousal was bubbling from the inside. alas, nicholas needed to focus on getting these midterms out of the way before he starts to loose that grown-ass control he claimed he had. he couldn’t fuck up knowing that he was held to such a high standard, even higher now that you were in the know. he didn’t want to, but he had to go back to work.

“i appreciate it! um, i apologize if i put you off by not saying anything earlier. it’s so embarrassing—”

you shook your head, putting a hand up to wave it, indicating to him that it was the least of your worries.

“i’ve been there, done that. college isn’t easy and you want to make the most of it before it’s over. you’re a senior, right?” you pause, awaiting an answer, in which he nods. “then you’re okay! as long as you’re properly balancing between work and play, i think you’ll be fine.”

“all work and no play makes nick a dull boy.” he quotes, with a smirk spreading across his face. you can’t help, but to chuckle in agreement at his charm. this definitely wasn’t the groggy young man you encountered at that table. it was refreshing to see him get a sense of his spirit back.

“quoting howell. i see you don’t play about hitting those books.” you pause and look back at the unfinished task behind you before shifting your attention back to nicholas, who never took his eyes off you for a second, “speaking of, i suggest i’d better get back to work. i don’t want to keep you from studying and your friends. as i said, if you need anything, you know where to find me!”

with a nod and a wave of goodbye, you go your separate ways, but with each passing day, you’d find each other in every corner of your lives. after class, nicholas would find himself in the library more often not only for a quieter place to study, but to see what you were up to. you were obviously working, but he loved to see you in your element. nicholas doesn’t know why he came in to study for another midterm after class because he was bound to get distracted by you again. while you were reading on your break, you indulged in a cherry lollipop. nicholas attentively watched from his table as you let the sugared delicacy swirl around in your mouth, humming a whitney houston tune before you pop it out and twirl it between your fingers. it made nicholas go crazy seeing the subtle shine from your saliva on the candy. he could only imagine what your lips would feel like on any part of his skin, specifically on his own lips or where he would want you the most. when he didn’t come in to study, he’d ease his way in under the guise of volunteering to help you around the place. when he offered, you were overjoyed because let’s face it, this job was a lot to handle, so there was no harm in having someone as strapping as him do the heavy lifting. he did more than that. almost everyday, he’d come in to help you organize inventory, tidy up shelves, and help students find books. while doing so, he’d make small talk in effort to get to know you. he’d inquire about where you were from, what college you went to, your interests, and your pet peeves. then his questions would start to get personal. you two sorting were through books late one night when it began,

“y/n, i have a question for you. please, don’t think me rude, though.” he asked, breaking the silence.

“go for it, nicholas.” you shrug, looking over a title.

“um, okay. how do i ask this—you don’t have to answer, but how old are you?”

you stop and peer over your glasses at nicholas, giving him a pointed look. he stood casually with his arms crossed.

“y’know it’s impolite to ask a woman her age, right?” at that response, he threw his hands up in surrender.

“i know. m’sorry it’s just— you don’t seem so stuck up like the other staff here. you’re so chill and welcoming compared to them.” he stopped to see you still had the same neutral expression. “y’know what forget it. i shouldn’t have—” he rambles before you cut him off.

“i’m thirty-seven.” you state loud enough for only both of you to hear, fully turning your body to his.

“really?” he questioned tilting his head.

“yes, i am. you seemed surprised.”

“respectfully, you could’ve fooled me—i never would’ve guessed that.”

“i appreciate the flattery, nicholas, but in the past, i would’ve been old enough to be your babysitter.” you chuckle and turn away from him again. you didn’t see his eyes move down to your ass then back up at your head, but his response had you internally floored,

“heh, yeah. my hot babysitter.”

your felt the familiar heat rush through your body. from that point on, nicholas had only gotten bolder. he was even kind enough to go on a coffee run for you when he noticed you were running on empty one day.

“oh, nicholas, you’re a godsend! thank you so much. for this, i should give you the rest of the day off.” you say taking the cup with a smile of gratitude. nicholas felt that same rush as your fingers brushed against his while passing the cup.

“of course! anything for you.” he replied, meaning every single word. “i always found it polite to help women in need.” he paused, not taking his intense gaze away from you murmuring, “especially the beautiful ones.” before you could respond to that comment, he was already off helping a couple of freshman find what they need. maybe nicholas was just being polite, so you didn’t dwell on it that much. just like you didn’t dwell on when you were trying to reach for a book and his tall figure suddenly loomed over yours. he was so close that if you’d step back one centimeter, your back would collide with his chest. your eyes spectated as his muscular arm reached for the exact title you were grabbing for and he deliberately brought it down in front of you to take.

“is this what you’re looking for?” he whispered, your heart raced as a pool of arousal started to form between your legs. you swallow, getting your thoughts together,

“yes, that’s the one. thank you, nicholas.”

“your pleasure’s all mine.”

“excuse me?” you inquired, making sure you weren’t hearing things.

“i said the pleasure’s all mine.” he left again with a smirk playing on his face as you stood there flabbergasted and flustered as all get out.

nicholas wouldn’t just see you around in the library though, on the week after midterms, he was walking with calvin to the campus gym for a workout, but then stopped when he heard what sounded like your voice. nicholas could hear your laughter in the distance.

who the fuck could that be making you laugh so hard?

“hey, i’ll catch up with you in a bit, cal, ‘needa check on something.” nicholas tapped a confused calvin’s arm, indicating to go on before he jogged into that direction. he found you at the college’s main café, sitting at an outside table conversing with who seemed to be one of nicholas’ professors, dr. bradley emerson. nicholas respected him as an educator because he saw him as a mentor who pushed him to his full potential, but now that respect turned to disgust as he watched the man gaze at you with such enthrallment and scooted in closer proximity as if he didn’t have a wife with twins at home. what a fucking bastard. oh, but who could blame him? it didn’t help that you looked breathtakingly beautiful today. nicholas thought you always did, but you looked different. your body was adorned with a long sleeved, chartreuse green collared polo paired with a dark brown pencil skirt and matching platform heels. instead of your usual french roll bun, your natural hair flowed down in the bounciest of curls. he was a goner when you flashed your award winning smile then proceeded to remove your glasses to reveal your heavenly aged face. that’s it. nicholas had to make the decision of approaching you the best way he could before staking his claim on you. he had to get you alone. he needed you all to himself. no fucking wandering eyes from his stupid ass friends nor his perving professors, just him.

this burning desire he had for you was starting to get the best of him at home. after his workout with calvin, nicholas sped back to his apartment to shower. you were back on his mind again, so he needed privacy. he wastes no time to enter into his abode and discard of his sweaty clothes before escaping into the steamy mist of his shower. as the water cascaded down his body, he closed his eyes. nothing, but your face invaded his thoughts. he wandered back to how you always read in your free time, he could imagine you reading a filthy erotica. with each word you read, you’d grow more needy as you let your thighs spread. nicholas grabbed ahold of his hardened dick, his palm stroking back and forth with the vision of your hand sliding down your nude body. he groaned at the thought of your fingers fondling and squeezing the smooth, melanated mounds of your breasts. your fingers would be pinching at your sensitive hershey kiss nipples. the strokes of his hand gain in speed while envisioning your hand finally going down to where he always wanted to be: the sweet, slick tunnel of your pussy. nicholas’ thumb circles around his swollen, pink tip as you’d start by caressing your clit in deliberation with light pressure the more you read. one finger would easily slip in, moving in and out effortlessly causing you to whimper. his hand grips harder on the shaft, hoping it would be his name. nicholas knew that one of your fingers wouldn’t be enough. hell, not even two nor three. you needed more. you deserved more. you deserved him.

right when you would become undone, nicholas convulsed and placed his free hand against the wall as he came within his palm. he could vividly see you ride out your high, the book would fall straight out of your hand with a hard thud to the floor as you try to regain consciousness from the overwhelming pleasure. nicholas caught his steady pattern of breathing and quickly, but thoroughly washed himself clean. he couldn’t wait anymore. he needed to feel you. he had to see that vision come to fruition. tonight.

it was now nine p.m., two hours before your shift came to an end. within the last couple of hours, nicholas had devised the perfect plan to sweep in and seduce you. after a clean shower, he brushed his teeth and spritzed his skin with the calvin klein obsession cologne he’d been saving up for. he wore a tight fitted white tank under a navy blue flannel with light washed blue jeans, and his new adidas. he didn’t forget top it off with his golden cross chain. he managed for his brown hair to naturally fall against his head, but he wasn’t worried about it too much because he wanted you to mess it up tonight. with one last glance at the clock, he retrieved his keys and made his way the place where he could always find you.

when nicholas entered the library, it was basically empty. the silence was filled with the familiar click of your heels and his feet didn’t fail into leading him exactly to where you were. he saw you as his little bookworm. there you sat reading in the hidden corner against a bookshelf, your heels off of your feet with your bare legs straight out crossed over the floor. yet again, he found your obliviousness endearing as you didn’t hear him approach and sit next to you until the intoxicating smell of obsession filled your nostrils. you looked over to see nicholas sitting at your side with his legs up to his chest, his elbows rested on top of his knees with his hands hanging loose. you jolted a bit and a sigh of relief escaped your lips at the sight of him,

“oh! nicholas, it’s just you. i’m surprised you’re here on a friday night.” you comment, removing your glasses to rub any sleep out of your eye. “so what brings you by? i know it’s definitely not academics.” you tiredly giggle. it’s been a long day for you and you just wanted some alone time reading your new favorite romance novel. this book in particular had a bit of—spice to it. just as you were getting to the part of the female lead receiving oral from her lover, that rush ran down between your legs.

you couldn’t say that you weren’t in a period of longing since your divorce. one thing you didn’t miss about your ex was his inability to go down south when you wanted him to. the erotic passage was getting good until nicholas popped in. you weren’t exactly mad at his arrival, but the thought of him finding out that you, a woman of your age, was reading this at her job would be humiliating to say the least.

“i guess you could say that i’m full of surprises.” nicholas replied. he paused, taking a hand through his hair before fixing his eyes onto your face, then to the novel in your hand. “i just wanted to see how my favorite bookworm was doing—whatcha’ got there?” his finger pointed to the book. you hastily placed your bookmark in the page before closing it and setting it atop your lap.

“oh, it’s just a silly little romance novel. it’s cheesy, really.” you respond dismissively, not missing the smirk play upon nicholas’ lips.

“cheesy, eh? when i came in, it looked to me that you couldn’t take your eyes off the page. you were so—invested. was i interrupting something?” he inquired, scooting in a little closer to get a proper glimpse of the cover. god, his cologne was damn near intoxicating.

“n-no, no! of course not. i’m always glad to have you around, nicholas.” you reassured to ease the tension.

“oh, really? thanks. the feeling’s mutual.” he nonchalantly confessed, his voice soft as he placed his hand on the novel which was the only barrier between him and your skin.

you couldn’t help, but to feel that tingle rise at the mention of the nickname he gave you. his favorite bookworm. so many lines had been crossed with nicholas and you had to resist the temptation before you could lose this job, but there was something about him that made you feel a youthful thrill. it was something new, something fresh. you weren’t a dummy: nicholas chavez was obviously attracted to you. the signs were all there. the flirtatious comments, the close proximity, his lingering gaze on areas such as your lips, chest, and ass. this young man could have any other girl his age wrapped around his finger, but he’s intentionally pursuing you, someone fifteen years his senior. you’d be a liar if you denied your attraction for him. he was tall, muscular, polite, intelligent, witty, and boyishly handsome. sigh, if it only nicholas were like this in ‘seventy-six, you’d bag him instead of your shitty excuse of an ex–husband. what’s also ironic, was that he cheated on you with someone a decade younger. thinking about his infidelity had you hotter than a firecracker, but then again, with the way that nicholas was looking at you like a predator about to pounce, maybe this was fate’s way of finally getting your payback.

fuck it.

whatever game nicholas intended to play with you tonight, —you were all for it.

“mind if i take a look at what was so important?” nicholas asked, his hand still on the book in your lap. now, it was your turn to smirk.

“from one avid reader to another, be my guest.” you slyly retort, sliding the book into his large hands. he deeply chuckles when he turns to the page you’ve marked, right at the beginning of the passionate exchange between the main characters. you watch his dark brow arch as his brown eyes skim through each paragraph by the second. you notice the bob of his adam’s apple and the hum vibrating in his chest momentarily before he closes the book and sets it down by his side. he huffs out a breath with a whistle.

“i guess i was interrupting something.” he quips, turning his intense gaze back to your heated profile, scooting closer than before. “i never pinned you for reading something so—raunchy.”

“mm-hm. that’s my secret, and you also got to read it before i did.” you pause. your eyes maintaining contact, trapping your pouty lip between your teeth. “it’s a shame i couldn’t experience that chapter privately.”

nicholas leaned in to the point that your noses were almost touching.

“i’m sorry i spoiled it for you.” his gaze shifts between your eyes and awaiting lips. “how about i make it up by giving you that experience?”

you didn’t say another word, your fingers delicately caress the tanned skin of his sculpted jaw before you finally close the gap between your lips. nicholas wastes no time in fervently returning the kiss. one large hand slides up to your grasp onto your neck to pull you closer. you whimpered out at the contact, resulting in nicholas to slide his tongue against yours. as they engaged in a dance, your hands found themselves messing through his chocolate tresses as his hands took a grip of your waist to effortlessly place you on his lap. he bucked his hips up towards your own, so that you could get a feel of his own arousal. you both groaned out due to the burning sensation before he pulled away from your lips to attack your neck as his hands descend to reward your ass with a tight squeeze.

“mmph, nicholas. please, i—i need you!”

your wish was his command. still with a firm grip on your ass, he gingerly places you down on your spine. nicholas’ eyes observed as your curls were sprawled on the floor with your bare half-lidded eyes glued to his face in desire. your now swollen, glossed lips were agape as you laid there with your legs spread wide awaiting for his next move. he could just cum at the sight alone. as much as he wanted to go all the way with you, he acknowledged that for the first of hopefully many times, you deserved better than being fucked on a floor, but he was going to fulfill his promise after spoiling your reading.

“as much as i want to, i won’t fuck you because that’s not what was in the book, baby.” nicholas halted his speech and slid his hands to hike up your skirt to reveal your baby blue lace underwear that had a damp spot right in the middle. he was drunk with the scent of your arousal. “god, you’re soaked—i promise m’gonna make you feel good.” his palms caressed circles on your inner thighs. you whined, the pulsing ache within your pussy grew stronger the longer you didn’t feel his touch.

“i know, baby, i know, but whining won’t get you what you want. you gotta use your words. you want this?”

such a goddamn tease this man was, but it was so exhilarating seeing him in control like this.

“yes! yes, nicholas. fuck, i don’t want this. i need this. i need you—ngh!” before you knew it, your panties had been ripped away. nicholas’ middle and index fingers work in tandem, curling at your tight, cushiony walls while his thumb made circles around your clit. nicholas was giving you the business like no other. you were a moaning mess and you were so glad no one came in at this time because it would’ve been a disaster, but that was the least of your worries when his fingers conducted a scissoring motion.

“you’re so tight. how’s that, baby? am i doing it just like the book or do i really need to make it up to you?” he questions over the soft sounds of squelching in the background, you struggle to speak as your hips start to buck up against his fingers.

“n-need y-your tongue. p-please, nicholas!”

he slowly slid his fingers out of you, his free hand holds your head in place to watch him suck your arousal clean off. he hummed in satisfaction once he popped them from his mouth.

“fuck, you’re so right. i need to taste you. right fucking now.” he lowered his head between your legs, propping each one over his shoulders. you throw your head back as his tongue laid flat against your clit in a long lick to savor the taste of your slick before his tongue moves like clockwork. your heels dig deeper within his broad shoulder blades while his tongue practically fucks you into an oblivion. if only your ex could see you now: getting it on with someone who was younger, hotter, and more appreciative of your presence. a wide toothy smile of satisfaction is etched on your face while your fingers grip onto his hair.

“mm, nick, baby. just like that…hah. such a good boy.”

that praise alone made him more relentless. nicholas’ hands pressed onto your thighs to spread them wider as he began to enclose his lips around the sensitive nub before his skilled tongue dragged around the area. he was giving it extra attention, so you could achieve the best fucking orgasm of your life. he was going to guarantee you weren’t going to runaway from it either, so he pressed your hips flat to the ground. with every suck, lick, and nibble he was giving, the hot ball of fiery pleasure within your abdomen began to expand. it was starting to be too much to handle because you can’t remember having it this good. your eyes peer down to see the dark, mischievous glint of nicholas’ eyes staring straight into yours.

“nicholas, hah. m’gonna cum…” you murmur, gently pushing his hair back.

with a quirk of his brow he raised his mouth briefly from your pussy,

“give me all you got, sweetheart.”

nicholas rasped, he then achieves the goal by digging his tongue inside while his thumb made rapid movements on your swollen clit. within seconds, that lethal combination is what forces your legs to tremble as you finally erupt into your high, which literally gushes right onto nicholas’ face. you speech is slurred, mixed with swears, praises, and his name. his movements never slow down as he’s trying to catch every single drop of you. the experience was so intense, that you dazed out while catching your breath. as if it were like c.p.r., he comes out from between your legs, holds you from the small of your back, and raises you upright to bring your lips together for another passionate kiss. his tongue brushes against yours, so that you could have what he’s been tasting. it was—sweet. sweet like the victory of getting your payback. he pulls away and your moment of internal gloating ceased when you heard nicholas’ voice.

“fuck, babe. look.”

“hm?” you questioned.

you match his gaze down to the hardwood floor to see a small puddle of what was obviously from your arousal. nicholas let out a chuckle of satisfaction.

“my little bookworm’s a squirter—hot.”

the heat of embarrassment rose on your face. you knew you felt the sensation of squirting, but damn it. now you had a mess to clean before continuing your weekend. still, you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

you got your groove back.

[bixels]

do you make some kind of script before drawing comics? your work's visual composition is so good

No formal script. I find it limiting to work with a script doc because I always go back and change/reorder things around. It's much easier for me to work on dialogue and visual content in tandem with figuring out panels.

I generally do a structure of beginning/set-up, middle content block, and end/punchline and layer them on a page.

It makes writing and reading a very short one-page story very easy and fun, while giving it a distinct compositional style. You see this structure used a lot in bigger C&H strips (but Watterson often takes it a step further by including a cold open joke in the beginning block). He'll often dedicate the entire first row of panels to set-up and negative space.

[pineapplething]

🧮

[oraclemoontarot]

a letter from your future spouse 𓂃⊹ pac tarot reading

from left to right, top to bottom -> pile 1, pile 2, pile 3, pile 4

paid readings

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

pile 1 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

cards pulled: ace of cups, seven of cups, ace of pentacles, sun + queen of cups

Hi, my darling,

There are many things I'd want to say to you, to write to you. My heart fills even by the thought of you alone, and a warmth like that of bathing under the sun rushes to me when I look to the day we'd meet. There is something enamouring about you, your energy, your kindness, your sensitivity. You could never judge, hurt, belittle, or shun others, and that is what I truly, and genuinely, love about you.

You coming into my life was the greatest gift I could have ever received and sometimes I wonder if I am worthy of such an amazing person to have the privilege in being able to call mine. You have brought so much love and light into my life, that at first was overwhelming, it was like nothing I'd ever experienced, you give me so much joy and I want to be able to give you the world in return, and I laugh to myself at that thought as even the world would not be enough to express my gratitude.

When I think about the future, about us crossing paths, I can't help but think about the present too. About the many paths that intertwine before me - dreams, hopes, and fantasies - yet the feeling that consumes me, is that no matter what I pick, I know it will eventually lead to you. And each one of those paths would promise us a stable, comfortable, and abundant life.

But, my darling, if there is one thing I could tell you right now, it is not to worry. Please, take care of yourself, just like the love you have and will give me, let yourself feel it too. You are someone rare in this world, someone anyone would wish to come across at least once in their lives, and I hope by the time we meet, you will be the happiest you can be.

With love,

Your future spouse

pile 2 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

cards pulled: four of swords, knight of pentacles, moon, queen of pentacles + king of cups

My dear sweetheart,

Whenever the world grows quiet around me, when things get difficult and I retreat back into my shell, I think of you. I think about the calmness you provide for me, the support and the reassurance. I also think about the stability you provide and the walls that surround me, our home.

I know I move slow, my approach is one of caution, and sometimes that may lead to frustration and even impatience, but I want you to know that no matter what happens, I will forever be dedicated to you, our marriage, and our family. Just as you have brought me warmth and safety, I wish to be your pillar, to be by your side and give you that security, to remove all the burdens that rest on your shoulders.

There may be moments when we may misunderstand one another, I may retreat sometimes into my shell, but I know that together, we will be able to achieve a lot; to strengthen our relationship.

You are someone so beautiful, your heart is strong yet just as loving. I am intrigued by the way in which you see the world, and how you face any problem with a smile. My respect and love for you cannot be put into words alone, but you are someone I want to change for, you are someone I want to be better for.

For you, I will mature and grow, I will pour my heart into our marriage, and I will fight for us if there ever comes a time. My heart yearns for you, and yet somehow, I feel the words just can't come out. You are someone I truly respect and adore and I will fight my stubbornness to make all those uncertainties disappear, just as you have given me the world, your heart, and your support. I will return those and more and I cannot wait for the day we meet, my dearest.

With love,

Your future spouse

pile 3 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

cards pulled: world, nine of wands, page of pentacles, magician + king of pentacles

My dearest,

You are my world. My everything. As cheesy as this may be, like a puzzle piece, you complete me. It is like I have finally found true happiness, and I can't help but to smile at the thought of you coming into my life, at my world filling up perfectly with your space. My heart yearns for you in a way that is excited and pleasant.

Within our marriage, any difficulty or challenge that presents itself on our path would be easily faced. Together, we can accomplish anything, we can get over any hurdle, and we come out stronger and having learnt a whole lot. Such challenges I could never face on my own, I am suddenly able to face with you.

You have taught me so much, you are someone who embodies knowledge, you are my inspiration and my ever-growing motivation. Our future holds so many possibilities and I can't wait to experience them with you together. The both of us will grow into the best versions of ourselves within this marriage. We will create our home, our life, our business, but we will also manifest our dreams into reality, together. What most would have deemed impossible, is possible with you.

For you, my dearest, I will be stable, humble, and a strong partner in our marriage. I would not want you to face any burden alone, I would not want you to suffer, to hurt, to experience anything that may trouble your heart or your mind. Together, we will flourish, we will create a stable home and an abundant career and lifestyle.

I look forward to the day we meet,

Your future spouse

pile 4 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

cards pulled: five of cups, three of cups, six of pentacles, ten of cups + judgement

My sweetheart,

I have faced a lot of hurt in my life, at least up until I met you, I have lost and failed, but you helped me to see the good that surrounds me. To appreciate the hurt, the heartbreaks, and the loss, for teaching me and making me into the person that I am now. With you, you allow me the opportunity to experience fun, to make meaningful connections, and to open my heart.

I am so, so incredibly grateful to you, for your generosity, and for the time you put into our relationship. You have such a kind and giving heart, it inspires me. It warms me and teaches me how to love again.

Within our marriage, we are equal, we both provide for one another and make our house our home, together. There is so much love and light when you are around, so much energy and emotion.

With you, you make me feel... content. Like this is what life is really about. This is what a true, healthy and loving relationship is meant to be, and you have given me that. To me, you are my destiny, it is as though we are soulmates and that we were meant to find one another.

I have learnt so much from you, you have taught me many things about life and my self. You are my true happiness. You are what keeps me going and I long for the day we meet.

With all my heart, I love you,

Your future spouse

[mistakenot4892]

Disclaimer that this is a post mostly motivated by frustration at a cultural trend, not at any individual people/posters. Vagueing to avoid it seeming like a callout but I know how Tumblr is so we'll see I guess. Putting it after a read-more because I think it's going to spiral out of control.

Recent discourse around obnoxious Linux shills chiming in on posts about how difficult it can be to pick up computer literacy these days has made me feel old and tired. I get that people just want computers to Work and they don't want to have to put any extra effort into getting it to Do The Thing, that's not unreasonable, I want the same!

(I also want obnoxious Linux shills to not chip in on my posts (unless I am posting because my Linux has exploded and I need help) so I sympathise with that angle too, 'just use Linux' is not the catch-all solution you think it is my friend.)

But I keep seeing this broad sense of learned helplessness around having to learn about what the computer is actually doing without having your hand held by a massive faceless corporation, and I just feel like it isn't a healthy relationship to have with your tech.

The industry is getting worse and worse in their lack of respect to the consumer every quarter. Microsoft is comfortable pivoting their entire business to push AI on every part of their infrastructure and in every service, in part because their customers aren't going anywhere and won't push back in the numbers that might make a difference. Windows 11 has hidden even more functionality behind layers of streamlining and obfuscation and integrated even more spyware and telemetry that won't tell you shit about what it's doing and that you can't turn off without violating the EULA. They're going to keep pursuing this kind of shit in more and more obvious ways because that's all they can do in the quest for endless year on year growth.

Unfortunately, switching to Linux will force you to learn how to use it. That sucks when it's being pushed as an immediate solution to a specific problem you're having! Not going to deny that. FOSS folks need to realise that 'just pivot your entire day to day workflow to a new suite of tools designed by hobby engineers with really specific chips on their shoulders' does not work as a method of evangelism. But if you approach it more like learning to understand and control your tech, I think maybe it could be a bit more palatable? It's more like a set of techniques and strategies than learning a specific workflow. Once you pick up the basic patterns, you can apply them to the novel problems that inevitably crop up. It's still painful, particularly if you're messing around with audio or graphics drivers, but importantly, you are always the one in control. You might not know how to drive, and the engine might be on fire, but you're not locked in a burning Tesla.

Now that I write this it sounds more like a set of coping mechanisms, but to be honest I do not have a healthy relationship with xorg.conf and probably should seek therapy.

It's a bit of a stretch but I almost feel like a bit of friction with tech is necessary to develop a good relationship with it? Growing up on MS-DOS and earlier versions of Windows has given me a healthy suspicion of any time my computer does something without me telling it to, and if I can't then see what it did, something's very off. If I can't get at the setting and properties panel for something, my immediate inclination is to uninstall it and do without.

And like yeah as a final note, I too find it frustrating when Linux decides to shit itself and the latest relevant thread I can find on the matter is from 2006 and every participant has been Raptured since, but at least threads exist. At least they're not Microsoft Community hellscapes where every second response is a sales rep telling them to open a support ticket. At least there's some transparency and openness around how the operating system is made and how it works. At least you have alternatives if one doesn't do the job for you.

This is long and meandering and probably misses the point of the discourse I'm dragging but I felt obligated to make it. Ubuntu Noble Numbat is pretty good and I haven't had any issues with it out of the box (compared to EndeavourOS becoming a hellscape whenever I wanted my computer to make a sound or render a graphic) so I recommend it. Yay FOSS.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

what if engel is a virgin but insanely boy crazy 👁👄👁 and she will/can never not be

Hoooo boy!

NSFW below the cut

So, um. Reader never told König if she's experienced or not (if she was a virgin then my thoughts and prayers are with her.) Part of König's hostility in the crazy mating scene comes from his belief that Engel is not a virgin. He is extremely jealous of everyone reader might've had before him, so he guides his frustration to heated, possessive sex, stripping her with a knife, and so on.

But if we imagine you told him it's your first time, then things would go slightly differently. König would be much more delicate with you!

And good God… He would be even more enamored. You're kind, you're sweet, you're innocent and you're a virgin too?

König can’t believe his luck. You're just perfect. He can’t stand the thought of you with other men so finding out you're in fact untouched is only a blessing. König wants to be the only one who makes you scream and sigh. And what an ultimate fantasy: he gets to corrupt a pure, pristine virgin (of course König would never put it this way. He's simply introducing you to pleasure. Nothing wrong with that, right? He has good intentions! He's the best choice if you wish to feel good, ja ❤️)

So, König tries to keep his cool as he asks if this is what you truly want (yes? please say yes) and if this is the right time (this is as good a time as any, you just need to trust him!), is he truly the man you want to give yourself to? (tell him he’s the one, you will not regret it.)

He tries to be a gentleman and at the same time can't keep his hands off you. Hands steal their way under your clothes as he tries to persuade you by whispering things like: "I will be good to you, there’s no need to be afraid. I will be gentle, I promise…" But it’s difficult to believe anything he says because his hands are trembling, the whole man is trembling and throbbing and panting already.

If and when you're willing to have sex, König will take you in a classic missionary. No pounding from behind, no crazy unhinged mating press. And he prepares you first! With his tongue, perhaps pulls out an orgasm or two so that you will be relaxed and ready for him. It’s very likely that König pumps himself through an orgasm too while pleasing you with his mouth because he’s waited so long for this moment. Your taste and the sounds you make as he licks you to ruin are far too much. He will erupt in mere minutes and then be hard again in no time for the main event.

König tries so, so hard to control the urge to just plow you until your eyes roll in your head. He tries his best not to simply pound himself straight into oblivion. He wanted you before, sure, but now his want is doubled. Tripled. He fears he will hurt you and basically shakes from the effort to restrain himself as he finally enters you.

He goes a little over the top with the praise, too... You feel so good, nothing has ever felt better, you're such a good girl when you said yes, Lieber Gott you look cute like this, he knew you were made for him, etc. And he wants to know that you feel good. Not just to check if you're ok, but to hear how he makes you feel. Does he give you pleasure? Do you like it when he does it slowly? He can be more rough if you want. How does it feel to have a man inside you for the first time?

He's sweating from love and frustration, the hunger becomes all-consuming as he approaches his peak, and you get to see a sliver of who this man truly is underneath all that fake composure. As sad as it sounds, there's a chance he is so lost in you that he cums before you. He just can't help it. But he will make sure you get all the pleasure you need before the night is through and be extra attentive with the aftercare ❤️ (Also he would definitely be one of those guys who check if there's blood after you did it because he thinks it's a given that there is)

[tealvenetianmask]

More about Blitz and anger . . .

Anger is a super stigmatized emotion. That's for a reason- it's powerful. When we see it from other people it's usually externalized- it's ugly, aggressive, shows up in abusive situations- it sometimes leads to violence. But when we talk about righteous anger, or the anger of marginalized people, we sometimes praise it. That's because anger can be empowering too.

I want to talk about how Blitz's anger, while it's also destructive at times, has empowered him.

Personal note: when I was a kid, I was yelled at frequently by my mother. The house I grew up in was a 60's rancher with a long hallway in the center, and she would chase me down the hallway yelling. As I grew older, I learned to yell back. Feeling anger and externalizing it didn't make the hurt go away, and it didn't solve our problems- it turned us into two people yelling at each other- but it did make me feel less helpless.

So let's look at Blitz as a kid. In addition to guilt tripping him, his father tells him that "there are scarier things," than stealing from a wealthy and (literally) powerful family, and he doesn't disagree. I think this screenshot captures their relationship pretty well.

We see moments of defiance from Blitz though, even as he's very much under Cash's control. Georgia Dow pointed this out in her video about how Blitz learned resilience in his childhood. Here, have some defiant expressions:

Notice Blitz's eyebrows here, mirroring his father. I suspect that as he grew older, Blitz learned to push back harder, to argue, maybe even to yell. He learned to channel his anger- at being used, diminished, devalued (very likely yelled at and probably physically hurt too) into expression, into fight (I don't picture him physically fighting Cash, but the guy has fight in him- of all kinds).

He learned to feel angry at the world and express that too- for treating imps as lower than other demons, for limiting his options in life, for filling the road to success with exploitation (as we see in the Mammon flashbacks with Fizz).

Speaking of that flashback, he's very ready, as a teenager, to express anger exactly when he needs to for the purpose of protecting a loved one.

Fast forward to the present.

Blitz's anger helps him stand up for the people he cares about- see Fizz in the present at Mammon's show but also Moxxie in Spring Broken.

It helps make him good at his job too. When we see him fight, he doesn't tend to seem all out enraged, but he's super determined and all in. He's at home in a conflict. When he's doing his best fighting, we see a mix of the "angry" facial expressions and pure confidence.

Anger also helps him manage a lot of difficult emotions. Disclaimer (and idea I'll get back to soon)- I said manage, not deal with.

When he interacts with Verosika and with Robo Fizz early in season 1, there's genuine underlying pain from how the relationships with Verosika and the real Fizz ended, but he channels that into anger. The anger makes him take action (Good action? Eh. But still action- he's not crying on his couch.) rather than get consumed by more painful emotions. He's able to keep going.

It also gets in his way, even as he uses it as a coping mechanism. Is his anger at Muffy and the Karen in the doctor's office understandable as he's dealing with his frustration about the inaccessibility of healthcare for Loona and his worries about losing Stolas? Yes. Is it helpful? No, probably not.

It isn't useful with Stolas either. Stolas is this person who's kind and beautiful and quirky and able to match his wit, and who Blitz has grown genuine feelings for, but who is also deeply entwined in the unfairness in Hell's society that Blitz has grown to resent throughout his life- AND Stolas unknowingly participates in some very familiar microaggressions himself.

Blitz channels a whole range of complicated emotions- love, fear, despair at the thought that he isn't loved back- all into anger because he HAS been wronged and his world IS unfair, and anger is COMFORTABLE because anger is ACTIVE, and with it he doesn't have to just let things happen to him!

So we end up back here.

[citrustan]

for what it's worth [3/4] (jjk)

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff, light smut, college student!reader x crush!jungkook

summary: you make an awful revelation about your crush of two years.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: some bitchiness (or like justice? idk it's up to you really)

note: yes. there is a chapter 4 because i'm not ready to let go of this just yet. and a thank you.

1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Two weeks passed by and you and Jia pretended as if absolutely nothing happened. It was simply the quiet before the storm.

Your days seemed to blend into nights, you felt yourself slipping into a bad place mentally. Always feeling distant and fatigued.

The emotional turmoil of having your trust broken and your privacy invaded caused you to miss out on much needed sleep.

While on the outside, everything seemed pretty much the usual except for a few painfully obvious differences.

You had stopped (publicly) obsessing over Jungkook, and it initially invited a lot of concern from Yoongi and Namjoon. But they didn’t push you too much when you blatantly ignored their questions about him. You also avoided Jia as much as you could. She didn’t seem to have noticed.

Despite your crush on Jungkook, you had come to accept the boundaries of your non-friendship with him and the fact that he was deeply committed to Jia.

You had no intention of causing any harm to their relationship, as you had already shared your support with Jungkook for their secret.

It was difficult to not think of them. It often made you break into tears of anger and frustration. You had to mourn your loss.

Every night, thoughts of Jungkook would continue to consume you. You’d still imagine him to be yours. Images of him smiling at you and his voice calling you cute would linger in your mind.

It’s just pretend. There’s no harm in it.

You knew that Jia had described you as a ‘creep’ to Jungkook, but the label bothered you. You were not a creep, and you wanted to understand why Jia had portrayed you that way. No matter what you came up with in your head, nothing was a good enough reason to call you such a gross name. Sure, she hadn’t revealed to Jungkook your identity but that baffled you more.

Also, had Jungkook never wondered about this ‘creep’?

Too many things kept you up at night and you couldn’t stand being on the other side of the truth. You could no longer afford to let these things bother you. You were too fucking old for this shit.

With the final week before your course evaluations being right around the corner, you had subconsciously come to some harsh unanimous decisions. They weren’t impulsive or unreasonable. You really had thought this through. These decisions may be a risky, or bitchy, or just as sneaky as Jia was, but they’d still be within reason.

He needed to know the truth about you, Jia, and what she told him.

You wanted to tell Jia that you knew about them. It probably wasn’t going to come out of Jungkook, so it had to be you.

Why must you continue to suffer?

You didn’t want to wait around and anticipate Jia’s next move.

You’re not the type of person who sits around and ignores things like these. You had held it in for a while now.

You understood that your actions would have consequences and you were more than ready to face them. You hoped.

While you pretended nothing ever happened, Jia and you saw way less of each other.

You could count the times you interacted, or even passed by, or saw each other over the weeks on one hand.

Still, every time you’d think about your interaction with Jungkook, you were reminded of Jia too. Him and Jia. You couldn't help but notice his annoyingly deep feelings for Jia. He was so… considerate of her. It probably is just the bare minimum but it doesn’t matter. You could tell he was a great boyfriend to her. No wonder she kept him hidden.

Sometimes, it felt so wrong and scandalous to fantasize about the man. Maybe it even is so. But you weren’t just infatuated with Jungkook. You really liked him. Emotions like these don’t disappear overnight.

You longed to be loved and held by him too.

The campus shuttle came to an abrupt halt, indicating that it was the last stop. You had missed yours.

*

As the semester continued, Jungkook found himself missing the moments he had shared with you before everything became so complicated. Jia completely stopped mentioning you. Whenever he’d ask, she’d pout and demand his attention to be back on her. While he’d give into her, you still remained in the back of his mind.

It was late in the evening, and Jungkook had decided to take a break from his hectic study schedule, opting to go for a walk around his dorm on campus.

As he neared the drop-off point for the shuttle, he couldn't help but think about you, remembering the first time you had met at a bus stand.

He stood there, lost in thought, when he suddenly saw a figure leaning against the street light.

An involuntary smile crossed his face as he couldn't believe the coincidence.

"_____, is that you?" Jungkook called out, waving to get your attention. He jogs to where you now stood upright.

You turned towards him, your eyes widening in surprise as you recognized him. "Jungkook? What are you doing here?"

He chuckled and motioned to the bus station. "Well, it seems like the bus stands are our special spot. I thought I'd take a break and enjoy the nostalgia."

You let out a mix of a sigh and an awkward laugh, feeling a mixture of nostalgia and uncertainty. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Jungkook nodded, and he noticed the hesitation in your eyes. "Would you like to grab some dinner? We can catch up?"

You were caught off-guard.

"Right now? It's not late enough for dinner." You attempt to find an excuse.

"Sure it is. There's a new Chinese fusion restaurant right off the road outside." Jungkook urged.

"Fusion? What is it fused with?" You wondered.

Jungkook paused. "I... Actually don't know. Want to find out?" He smiled, invitingly.

Not used to the attention he was giving you just now, you found it difficult to tell him 'no'.

Especially when you really wanted to 'catch up' with him.

So, you reluctantly agreed, and the two of you were headed to the nearby restaurant.

Jungkook smiled back at you as he led the way, "Do you want me to hold your hand? It looks heavy."

WHAT?

Your mouth slightly parted open.

Oh, my god? What was his deal?

You're malfunctioning.

"No. I'd rather not..." You hesitantly refuse. Jungkook slows down to let to catch up to him. "Are you sure? You look like you've been carrying that around for a while. And, I really wouldn't mind it."

More confused than ever, "Well, it is attached to me. I'm okay."

"Well, un-attach it! I'll hold it for you." Jungkook's hands graze your shoulder.

Your brows furrow. Finally, you just ask him. "What?"

"Let me hold your bag. Unbuckle, un-attach, relax." Jungkook blabbered as he switched positions to walk behind you, gently taking your backpack off your shoulders.

Oh.

Oh, no. Did you really think he was asking to hold your hand? Really now?

You big dummy with a capital 'D'.

You sigh. "Okay. Thanks, but let me just-" You cut yourself off by unzipping your backpack and pulling out a white sweater with pearls for buttons.

The two of you pause mid-way so you can comfortably wear your sweater. The temperature was dropping my the hour.

Although you don't have your matching mittens and earmuffs, it should be fine.

"That's pretty, _____." Jungkook complimented you.

"Where'd you get that?" He asked, thinking about how much Jia would like this kind of clothing.

You shyly blush and look down at your glossy, red pointed toe heels, "Thanks. I made it myself with the yarn my mother spun for me."

Jungkook looked genuinely impressed. "No way. That's got to be worth a lot then."

You stared up at him with big eyes. Nobody had ever said such sweet things to you.

(That's a lie. Your other friends have always praised your clothes and outfits. But this is different, so it's ok!)

You wordlessly, softly smile at him. Jungkook stares back at you.

Suddenly, his expression changes. His eyes grow big and his mouth forms a smile, "Ah! Could I commission you to make something just like that for Jia? She loves stuff like that!"

And just like that, your heart shattered. Again.

Your kind smile turned into a forced one. "Maybe if I have time."

You noted that he didn't demand or suggest you to make a sweater for Jia, but rather requested it and offered to compensate for it. That just tells you more about how considerate and present he is.

Every time you've talked to people about your handmade clothes, they'd beg you to make them one or jokingly ask about it so that if you do end up making something for them, they wouldn't have to pay you for your efforts. This doesn't include your friends, obviously. And, even if your friends were to act this way, you'd gladly gift them your handiwork.

Well, even though he's somewhat of a stranger to you, if Jungkook ever asked you for something, you'd probably just do it for him too. No questions asked.

Jungkook asked you about your day and your classes. And, you him.

As you were walking on the snow covered sidewalk, you mentally cuss yourself out for picking these shoes. Not only were your feet partially frozen and numb, but also you were ruining very expensive shoes.

"Oh! Puddle, watch out." Jungkook swiftly skipped over a puddle of water that horizontally covered a significant portion of the walkway from one end to the other.

You watched him regain his footing and turn back to you.

Does he expect you to leap like that? Your legs aren't as long as his! But, you don't gave a choice.

You can't step in it, it could very well be a hole of icy water. That'd be risking a potential amputation.

You can't walk around it because there's nowhere to go. And, you can't switch to walking on the road because, well it's dangerous, and there's a metal partition placed specifically to avoid mixing people on wheels and people on foot.

Jungkook puts his hand out for you to grab.

"Just put one foot out to this side and I'll pull you up. Don't worry! I've always done this with Jia." He mentions Jia, hoping to reassure you that he wouldn't let you slip.

All it does is make you more uneasy. Just the thought of Jia. It has an odd effect on you. Your body feels colder. You shudder briefly.

Your only goal now is to get past this stupid puddle without humiliating yourself. You realize that delaying this makes you look more cowardly, hence humiliating you.

So, you grab hold of Jungkook's surprisingly warm hand. Not going to lie, you faked some uncertainty just so you could keep holding his hand.

Someone has got to get you in check.

Jungkook urged you to trust him yet again. His stance showed he was prepared to pull you through.

You lift your left foot and somehow land it on the other side of the puddle. Not even a second after, Jungkook roughly pulls you to him with all his strength.

Not expecting this amount of force, you clumsily collide into his chest, immediately wrapping your arms around his torso to avoid falling back into the very puddle you were trying to get across from.

Jungkook reciprocates by circling his arms around your shoulders and head.

How you wished he held you elsewhere, but he was so respectful.

Everything happened so quickly.

Embarrassed, your breath hitched and you suddenly pushed him to the side.

"Sorry." You whisper. You don't know if he could even hear you.

You fix your sweater and continue staring at your feet, eyeing the little droplets of water on your pants.

Your tummy and nether regions were blazing fire and you felt your nipples slowly hardening. You clench your hands into fists, desperately praying nothing is visible. I mean, you were wearing white.

You wanted so badly for Jungkook to reach out, just stick his hand up your top and soothe your pretty, sensitive nips. Your breathing has become unstable for a few seconds.

You should be beaten up for having these thoughts about a taken man.

Jungkook suddenly places his hand on your arm, making you jolt. "We're close. Look, it's there." He smiles and points to the establishment.

"Great. I'm so cold." You try to play it off, just in case he noticed something.

You then cover your chest by flipping your hair back over it.

This time, he let you walk ahead of him.

On reaching the restaurant, Jungkook skipped ahead of you and pulled the door open for you. "After you." He smiled, goofily.

You blush and instantly shake it off, "Why, thank you. My fragile hands could never."

Jungkook and you were immediately hit by the warmth and coziness of the home style, Chinese fusion restaurant.

"Huh. This is not at all what I expected." Jungkook looked around, pleased with himself.

You replicated that action.

The restaurant was designed to replicate someone's home, or garage. It had unique tables and chairs. No two items were the same. Even most of cutlery was different.

You appreciated the dedication to this concept.

"Good evening! Table for two?" A very familiar voice interrupted you.

Your head abruptly turned towards the direction of the voice.

"Joon!" You exclaimed, rushing over to throwing yourself into his personal space.

Surprised by your sudden enthusiasm, Jungkook raised a brow. This was the most chipper he'd ever seen you.

Jungkook and Namjoon knew each other.

Other than from your constant yapping, Namjoon knew of Jungkook because Jungkook was actively trying to pursue Namjoon, pleading for him to be Jungkook's musical mentor. However, Namjoon wouldn't budge.

Namjoon instantaneously engulfs your whole body with his arms, rubbing your back.

When Namjoon clearly looked at the man stood behind you, his eyes widened.

No way.

Is this why you went off-grid? Had you finally managed to bag Jeon Jungkook? Namjoon was too stunned to move.

Namjoon was just about to ask you about it when Jungkook speaks instead. "Table for two is right. Thanks."

You let go off Namjoon, confirming Jungkook's words.

Whatever. Namjoon will be blowing your phone up later either way. So, he decided to let you off the hook for the rest of the evening.

Namjoon cheekily smiles at the two of you as he leads you into an isolated booth.

It was a space behind some beaded curtains, giving the illusion of the space being more private.

The table was relatively smaller and surrounding it were three chairs; two regular wooden ones with soft cushions, and one loveseat.

Then, Namjoon abruptly left.

You didn't realize what Namjoon was doing until he returned with two menus and something that looked like a candle and a lighter.

Oh, no.

No. This was NOT happening.

You frown and awkwardly wait for him to set the table up and leave.

What? There's nothing you can do or say without overreacting! It's not like you WANT to wine and dine your friend's boyfriend.

(You totally do, but you would not pull something like that purposely.)

Jungkook seemed to just go with the flow, unbothered.

You promptly sat yourself on one of the wooden chairs and Jungkook opted to sit on the comfortable loveseat.

"So, how do you know Namjoon?" Jungkook wasted no time.

"We've been friends for a while." You continue, "Jia too. She knows him."

At that, Jungkook raises a brow. Jia knows Namjoon? Jungkook has mentioned Namjoon many times before. Jia never indicated that she knew him.

Still, he brushed it off.

"How do you know him?" You ask.

"Oh, he's like rhythm and poetry royalty. I've been sending this man emails for months begging him to mentor me... I can't believe Jia- It's so weird, finally seeing the guy who kept rejecting me." He cut himself off towards the end.

He can't believe Jia WHAT? Tell me. PLEASE.

You painstakingly push your annoyance away.

Instead you laugh, "I had no idea he was being pursued by students, wow."

"Yeah..." Jungkook giggled, somewhat embarrassed.

As the evening went on, you talked quite a bit. If he noticed, he didn't mind your awkwardness.

As if you were suddenly remembering something, you hummed. "I take it you didn't tell Jia about the... thing?" You struggled to find the right words to describe it.

Jungkook slowly nodded and repeated, "The... Thing."

"Yeah. You know, about you guys? Dating?" You press your legs together, a little anxious.

"Oh! Right!" He smiled in realization, "I actually did end up telling her about it that same night." He nodded, this time, positively.

You froze and your face dropped.

Had you been drinking something at that moment, you'd have spat that out. If you were eating at that moment, you'd have dropped your utensils on the floor.

"And then we talked about you for a while. I told her you gave me your word. I mean, I'm sure she already told you..." He continued.

Jia. She knows you know.

"Because she panicked..." Jungkook kept talking but at that point you had tuned him out.

Your mouth involuntarily formed a sad pout. Your eyes which were drying out from tiredness, slowly began to fill up with tears of... frustration, and anger, and confusion.

She knew.

She didn't even try to talk to you.

You assumed she was just busy.

But, she was actually just avoiding you. Just as you her.

Your eyes were glazed over.

The humiliation, guilt, anger and paranoia set in all at once.

Does this mean... Jungkook knows? Is he toying with you?

No. That's far-fetched. Way off. He'd never do that. He was so nice to you all night.

But, he IS a nice guy. Why wouldn't he be nice?

You're starting to make less sense now.

You don't even blink because if you do, your tears won't hold themselves back.

Jia fucking knew and avoided you on purpose. She couldn't face you. She fucking betray you, and she couldn't handle it. She didn't want to face it.

Jungkook sensed that there was something on your mind. "_____, is something wrong? Should I not have told her? What's going on?" He asked, his curiosity piqued.

You hesitated for a moment. You weren't used to being impulsive. That was never you. But, lately, that streak was becoming increasingly steady.

So, you decided to open up. Like an idiot.

"It's me."

Jungkook nervously smiled, "It's you?"

"The 'creep' with the schoolgirl crush." You added.

Jungkook's eyes widened in surprise, and he leaned in, his expression a mix of shock and curiosity. "You? But... I don't understand."

He shook his head and stared at you, expecting you to keep going.

Great job, idiot.

You didn't have a choice now.

You took a deep breath and began to explain, "I had a crush on you, Jungkook. I have a crush on you. I've never been silent about it." You winced.

The tears. They're coming.

"I mean, I've never been silent about it with my friends. Including Jia."

The knot forming in your throat felt tighter.

Jungkook listened carefully, trying to make sense of this... revelation. "So, it was all a misunderstanding? There was never a 'creep'?" He reasoned.

You kept your eyes trained down at your lap, more embarrassed than ever. "I... No? I don't know." Your eyes were heavy with tears. Your nose began to sting.

You pressed your lips together to hold all the ugly sobs in, and squeezed your eyes shut.

"_____?" Jungkook questioned worriedly.

You furrowed your brows and frantically shook your head, "Jia. Everyone, my friends, everyone knew about it- that I liked you. From the day we met. The- it was like a mixer?" You slouch and let your arms fall to your sides, "I can't remember. I've liked you for so long..." You trail off silently shedding tears.

You inhale before letting out a little squeaky apology.

Jungkook only looks at you. He doesn't understand, or register anything.

"_____..." Jungkook begins.

"I didn't know Jia was your girlfriend. I'd always talk to her about you, and how good you looked on whatever, whenever- and how you, and then she..." Your shoulders begin to shake towards the end of your sentence. You fully began to cry.

Thank goodness you were separated from the rest of the restaurant-goers.

You were clearly unable to hold a conversation.

You wanted to bang your head on the table. Repeatedly.

Jungkook's brows almost touched his hairline.

"I'M the 'creep' she told you about. I'm the reason for... But I didn't know. I SWEAR. Until you told me. I knew then." You sniffle every two seconds. "I was going to tell you how I felt but then you- I'm sorry!" You finally broke down, sobbing into your hands.

"Hey. Just... breathe, okay?" You felt Jungkook shimmy out of his seat and back away from the table. He then walks over to you.

You already knew tomorrow's _____ was going to kill herself.

Jungkook pours you a glass of water.

He has no idea what to tell you.

He can't find the words to even begin to describe what he's feeling right now.

Jungkook's brain had stopped generating new thoughts. All he's thinking about is the crying girl in front of him, half-heartedly confessing her feelings for him.

Frustrated, he ran his hands through his hair. Then he looked down at you.

You are whom his girlfriend was worried about?

The same girl whom he hadn't stopped thinking about the past weeks.

The same girl who's his girlfriend's friend. His girlfriend.

His girlfriend who lied- hid things from him.

Had you planned this? Was Jia right to hide him away?

Jungkook really doesn't know what to think.

Jungkook needed to leave. He felt suffocated.

"_____, I'm sorry for the way things turned out. I... wish I had known the truth earlier." Jungkook solemnly spoke.

He hoped you believed him. He can't tell if you're in the right frame of mind to talk. He knows he sure isn't.

You sniffle harder, still appreciating his understanding. "I honestly just wanted to clear the air and be honestly honest with you...." You sigh deeply, speaking shakily. "I just thought... Maybe Jia would talk to me herself. And when she didn't--- I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable."

Jungkook just stood by you, unmovingly. It was as if he himself was trying to figure out what to say.

After what felt like forever, you hesitantly lift your head up to look at Jungkook, "I understand if you'd want to leave now."

And you meant it. You couldn't force him to watch you cry like an idiot. So, you understandingly told him he had a free will, that he could walk away.

And he really did.

Jungkook stared down at your tear-stained face for a few seconds.

Then without uttering a single word, he slowly blinked at you and walked away.

Now, you stare at the back of his head, wide-eyed.

You didn't expect him to actually leave this instance.

I mean, he didn't owe you anything, but you still felt uneasy.

The rational part of you truly understood his choice. But the emotional part of you was destroyed.

Even though you have no right to feel this way, you're so disappointed. In him. In yourself. In Jia. You think that's well deserved though; your disappointment in Jia.

Did she hate you?

Nothing else mattered.

You don’t know it yet but the biggest burden had just been lifted off your shoulders.

(Until you face Jia. But, more on that later.)

And, as for Jia; Jia had enough time to come clean. This was not on you. It was all her.

[thatfrailsoul]

– It's okay to let it go now

tarot pick a pile reading ( → 1, 2, 3 )

It is so difficult, so simply frustrating, to feel once again that ending coming near. To be aware of the fact that, once again, everything you did was not closely enough to make it work... But while you do feel the anger and anxiety creeping in... You also feel deep down the pure relief, because perhaps you might have finally the possibility to stop sacrificing yourself, your energy, so much... It makes you confused, about what you truly want and especially what is the right thing to do, if it is really okay to give up and let it go...

So here you can find a little message for you. For you who did so much. And that needs to remind your own self a truth that you, so overwhelmed, are risking now to forget.♡

Slow down for a moment. Breathe. Listen to your heart, to its rhythm. Allow it to speak to you. And choose the image that seems so familiar, calling so strongly your heart.

Remembering that, whatever the message might be, you are free to listen to it or to let go. Without the need to make it fit. Because your true answer will always find you, the moment you will be really ready and will have the need.

_

_

– Pile One,

the six of wands, the tower, the two of wands

The Awakening, Eugene De Blaas

You just arrived here. Here where for so long you wanted to be. It is only the beginning, it is all really starting just now, but... It already feels like an eternity. All the obstacles you overcame, all the challenges you faced to be here. All the times you pushed yourself further even when you didn't have anymore any strength. It's only the beginning of this journey, but you feel already drained, already tired. You feel already frustrated at the idea of needing to keep on doing it tomorrow, perhaps even more, and who knows for how long.

But you can't really think about giving up... can you? Can you really have the dearness to take this decision back, returning to where you were before? Can you really have the courage to say it out loud, that this prologue, this preparation for the journey you chose, already consumed you so much?

You are frenetically buying time. Lingering here, not really doing that step that will sign this beginning, the one that you earned and worked for so much. All because you can't help but feel and wander about what's behind you, in the space and time that is before this choice that you are forcing yourself to do. Where there are no limits, no struggles, no fears. The space where all the challenges of this journey won't arrive to you, because you will comeback to the start again. Where you can choose differently, try other things, go in a different direction. That liberty that is so close, just a one decision away... But at the same time so distant because of all the things that you already endured for this journey instead.

You can't decide. No matter how you look at it. You can't understand what will be worse: continuing on this path that, even before starting, already showed you how the rest will be, how you will constantly feel and what you will struggle with; or to face the challenge of searching for something else and having nothing again, combined with all the judgment, delusion that you will feel from those around you and just within your own self...

But going back, being honest with yourself and accepting that it is not for you... Will it really make useless all your dedication and work? Will it really be a missing opportunity, you letting this chance slip through your fingers? Or will perhaps this be you really using it, using it to find something new, something even better because it will be just so right for you?

You are human, you change and you grow. You still have so much to learn about this world. And it is normal to imagine something to be in one way, try it, and discover it to be different, to not be right for you. It is normal and okay to change decisions, change your convictions, opinions and your mind. No matter how much you did in their name or for how much time.

Not everything needs to be done up to their designated completion. Not everything needs to be believed in or worked for until its very end. You can realise that something is simply not for you. You can accept that you made a wrong assumption. You can allow this journey to end for you in this moment, different from others or from what you planned it to be. And you can do it while still being proud of what you did and learned for it.

Simply because this, realising that something is not right for you, can still be exactly what you needed to do all this time. What this was all for. To learn more about this journey that made you wander, and to get to know more your own self and who you really want to be. For sure different from what you imagined... But still a purpose, still fulfilled, still right, still enough and worth it. And the one that still and always allows you to end it and let it be.

P.s. If you would like to receive a more personal message and guidance about your situation - find out all about it here!♡

– Pile Two,

the magician, temperance, three of swords

The Siren Lorelei, August Schmidt

You were so patient with yourself. So kind at every step, at every doubt and fear. You reassured yourself, convinced gently that it is okay, that you can do it, even if it feels so strange. Even if it makes you be and feel so different from what you used to, from who you thought you were and how you imagined you would want your life to be. You were so loving, to yourself and to this situation and people involved... that you stayed right here, and tried, again and again.

Just to be sure, for your own self, that you indeed did your best, that you are not betraying anyone and messing things up. You pushed yourself constantly out of your comfort zone, listening to others and their opinions or advices, wandering when that moment of feeling confident and into it will arrive. When this pressure on your heart will pass.

But what you convinced yourself to be just inexperience, just some sort of fear for change or not being used to these ways... Perhaps was your inner voice telling you that it is just not right for you.

It is right the idea that until we try something, until we experience it, we can't really know what it's like. If it is really something that we can't enjoy in any way, or get used to it, seeing positive things even in those parts of it that we assumed we would've hate...

But it is also true that you did try, you did put yourself out there, you did push yourself further, continuing to give yourself time to adapt. You did ignore that uncomfortable feeling that was creeping on you since the very first day and try.

And this... This simply gives you the right to let it go and stop. Knowing, within yourself, that you did everything you needed and everything you could. That you have nothing to be sorry for, nothing to be ashamed of...

But only everything - your every decision, every step and every time you had that incredible strength and courage to not give up - to be deeply proud of. Proud of being who you are and the way you are. No matter how the journey itself is, no matter if you will be the one to let it go, or if it will be this journey that will decide that it gave you all it could. And that it is enough.

P.s. If you would like to receive a more personal message and guidance about your situation - find out all about it here!♡

– Pile Three,

the death, the queen of swords, the nine of cups

Evening by the Lake, Max Nonnenbruch

You didn't start this journey with the thought that it will end so soon. You didn't dedicate so much of yourself and your time, just for this to go so poorly right at the start... And even if it wasn't for this, it's just so irritating, the fact that it seems that you can't never win. You can't have your idea or your plan working out from the start to end.

And this, this sort of frustrating realisation that you are having, is torturing you even more now that you don't really have a choice. Now that this journey will either way end.

It is simply draining, tiring, to need to make all these big plans, strategies, choosing a goal and dedicate so much of yourself to it... Just for being forced to restart again.

And you just feel it deep down, that you can't ask yourself to do it once more. Not after everything you did to just have this chance, this glimpse of possibility that was indeed too good to be true.

But if we need to tell the truth, if we need to talk about what hides deep down in you... Then we also need to admit the fact that you didn't really give all of you to this, or to those others journeys. You did give a lot of you, but not everything. Hiding still that hope and desire that you can do things differently from what all these options wanted you to do, different from what others, people or just circumstances, try to choose for you.

You still and always hoped and waited, for a real chance to make things the way you want, the way you feel that it will be right for you... And if you, for a moment, remember it, admit it, allow it to come to the surface... Seeing this and other situations from this perspective... You are not really missing or ruining opportunities, you are not really failing. Because you, deep down, never intended to be successful and go further this way.

You are aware of it, you knew it always even when you tried so hard to hide it. And the universe, this world, knew it too. Others felt it. No matter what you said, promised or what you did so well. Everything around you knows your end goal, your little but so promising and strong desire, creating all these situations and journeys that you've seen a fraction of... Just to help you. Not to succeed in them, to walk these paths right up to a goal you never really wanted. But rather to allow you to find little bits of knowledge and experience that are so needed for that plan, that vision, that you have in your heart.

You didn't lose, you actually won all the way. Finding and accumulating exactly what you need to have a clear picture of the world around you, of the sources that you can use, the ways in which you can try to do it, the people that can and will support the calling of your heart. You found it.

You found everything that you might need. You just need to take a moment to unpack it. To look at them truly, for the first time from the perspective of your own journey and goal, from the perspective of your own desire.

Don't hold onto what is already ending either way. Don't hold onto what could've been, what you could've achieved, or what you already prepared yourself to do... But rather allow yourself to feel the liberty of movement, of thought, of creation that you now have without these limits or responsibilities that you never really wanted either way.

It is an ending. Once again. But this time it is a good one. The one that is setting you free, giving you the real and only opportunity you need: to be honest with yourself and to for once follow your vision and dream.

P.s. If you would like to receive a more personal message and guidance about your situation - find out all about it here!♡

_

[starhotchgf]

Boss Bitch

Where Y/N has gone more than a year without making fun of the guys she dated, but Aaron finds a way around his employee's situation.

warnings: overstimulation, squirting, period mentions, rough sex, pet names, mature content.

English is not my first language, so forgive me for any mistakes.

Working at the BAU was something she had dreamed of since she was just a child and at the same time something that had come true before she could have imagined, making her a young agent, just like Spencer was, even though you were still older than the genius with more PHDs than a normal human being could imagine. She had been there for a little over two years, working with something she liked and making friends she could never have imagined before.

Emily, JJ and Penelope were her best friends, whether it was to comfort her when she had a bad day or got scolded by Hotch or also to have girls' nights and get a little drunk while talking unfiltered in Garcia's office. That wasn't the case at the moment, since they weren't in the living room of any of the girls there, but in the unit's break room. The last case had been solved in two days and with all the reports finished there was no harm in taking a few minutes to gossip and update each other on the group's latest encounters with some guys.

“He was extremely attractive and for a few minutes I thought he might be different from the other guys I’ve dated and would be able to give me at least a little pleasure, which clearly didn’t happen and so I ended up frustrated in my bed for another night. I think the lack of orgasms has been making me more stressed than my period.” You sighed, taking a sip from your cup of coffee. “Why is it that the men I date are so bad in bed?”

“Are you telling me that in the last few weeks you haven’t had an orgasm?” Garcia asked, looking shocked by that revelation that none of her friends expected. “It’s only been weeks, right?”

“Actually I don’t think I’ve cum in a year and a few days, it’s like I never get out of that pre-cum haze and the men I’ve dated definitely didn’t even help me get there.” You confessed, laughing weakly when you saw the shocked looks on the women’s faces. “I’m a difficult person in these aspects.”

“I don’t know how you’re putting up with this. I swear that if I went more than two days without cumming, I’d go completely crazy and pull my own hair out.” JJ said, gesturing exaggeratedly with her hands. “Not even by yourself?”

Your shake of the head made the blonde’s eyes widen, taking another big sip from the cup of coffee she had in her hands. You could be sure that they had consumed more coffee in those few minutes of conversation than they would have consumed during the entire work week at the agency.

The conversation continued for the next few minutes, being bathed in tips that they would never have heard anywhere else and without any filter as it was spoken in that small room. What no one expected was that Aaron was listening to the obscene story that you told with frustration. Something grew inside him and the man knew exactly what he should do. Something that had been kept for much longer than could be put into words.

…

“Hey Y/N, wait a minute, I need to talk to you.” Your boss’s voice made you stop in your tracks. You didn’t need to look at your friends to know what they looked like at that moment. You just felt someone patting you on the shoulder before the women walked away completely, leaving the office along with Derek, Spencer, Luke, and Rossi. “Do you have something to do? I don’t want to keep you here if you have a more important commitment.”

“I have nothing to do, Hotch. I can stay as long as you need me to.” You looked into the older man’s eyes, ignoring the shock that ran down your spine in an electrifying way, almost causing a small spasm in your limbs. “Is it something about the case?”

“Just call me Aaron, honey. We don’t need formalities when it’s just the two of us.” The man laughed, leaning against his desk in a relaxed manner. You never imagined that the older man could become even more attractive with a small gesture and a mere affectionate nickname. You had never heard that masculine and soft tone in his voice. “I want to invite you, Y/N. Would you like to have some wine with me at my place? Jack went to a school camp, just you, me, wine and a probably bad movie that might be playing at this time.”

Her gaze rose until she met her boss again, feeling the same shiver as before, but in a different way, because looking into his eyes, she found desire, not just any desire, the perversion of that invitation that the man made with such a calm and soft tone of voice was palpable. If she wasn’t a profiler, she wouldn’t notice the lust hidden behind those good intentions.

“That would be great, Aaron.” She smiled, with that same perverse desire behind the innocent look she directed at the taller man. Maybe this was the chance to get out of that exhausting and frustrating fog she was in.

“It will be great to have you at my house, dear.”

…

The wine glasses were on the coffee table, the bottle in the middle of both, already half full at that point in the night. Small laughs came from their lips as they listened to yet another story about the older man's youth; they barely paid attention to the movie playing on television, too entertained with each other. Aaron already had a few buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, the same piece that was unbuttoned from his pants, lifted in a way that showed only a small part of the 'V' line of his abdomen. There was no denying how attractive that man was, the years between you and him were what made your chest race and your breath pant the most.

Your own jacket was already off your body, the tight, long-sleeved blouse you were wearing highlighted your curves, just as that low-cut top made your breasts even more beautiful and appetizing in the eyes of your boss. The tight pants you were wearing that night left your thighs tight and spread across the sofa upholstery. Your long hair fell to your shoulders, covering part of your breasts visible through the tight neckline you were wearing.

“Is everything okay, honey? You suddenly went silent,” the man said, her gaze rising to meet his. She was sure her face was red at that point, and the provocative tone in the man’s voice didn’t help with the embarrassment. “Don’t worry, I can’t take my eyes off you either. Ever since you arrived at the BAU, with that curious and scared look, you looked like a lost little puppy.” He spoke softly, using one of his hands to brush her hair away from her cleavage. “But hearing you talk about how sexually frustrated you’ve been in the last few months gave me the courage to bring you here. I want to show you what should be done to a girl like you, honey. You deserve so much more than inexperienced brats who don’t know how to take care of that needy little thing that you are.”

“A-Aron,” she stammered, feeling her face heat up even more, her lips parting in a sigh as she felt his large hand wrap around her neck, only creating an attractive pressure in the place. “Did you hear that?”

“I heard everything, baby, every detail of how bad they’ve been, not getting you out of this horrible fog you’re stuck in, but in a way I thank them, if it weren’t for their terrible performance, I wouldn’t have the chance to be here. Now be a good girl and come to my lap,” Hotchner whispered, taking his hand off your neck so he could slap one of his thighs, indicating where you should sit. “But first take off your pants, just keep that pretty blouse and panties on, honey, I want to see how pretty my girl is.” It was almost humiliating how quickly you obeyed him, getting up from the couch, taking off your boots and socks to finally remove your tight jeans, revealing the light lace panties you were wearing to cover your already wet intimacy. You didn’t need to move, the man was quick to pull you to straddle one of his thighs, the surprise friction made you moan softly at the contact, that was music to the older man’s ears. “I’m not just going to take you once tonight, darling, I’m going to make up for all those frustrating months you’ve been through. I’m going to make you cum until you pass out in my arms from exhaustion, until you’re left speechless from screaming my name every single time. Do you hear me?” You nodded, shaking your head frantically as you felt your juices getting even wetter on his dress pants, further increasing the dark stain that was appearing on the fabric. “So fuck yourself on my thigh, I want to see your pretty face as you feel pleasure, like the needy, delicious little thing that you are, does that sound good to you? Answer me with words, I want to hear your voice.”

“O-Okay.”

The man smiled at her tone of voice, holding her hips to make her move against his thigh, making her moan loudly and grab his shoulders, squeezing his skin over the button-down shirt he was still wearing. The friction of the fabric of her panties and his pants against her pussy was making her eyes not stay open for long, the pleasure of just doing that was devastating for her little body, which had been so long without feeling anything like that.

“You look so fucked up just riding my thigh, baby, moving that wet pussy and making a mess in daddy’s pants, don’t you?” Aaron smirked, holding her jaw with one hand, the other kept moving her hips, increasing the friction of her pussy on his leg. “I’m going to fuck you until you forget all the times you went out with a man, you’re going to cum until I decide I’ve had enough.”

“Daddy.” Another moan escaped your lips, your mouth remaining open long enough for a trickle of saliva to run down your chin and drip onto the same spot where your juices were, increasing the wet mess on the man’s pants. “I-I want to cum, please.”

“But I’m not stopping you, darling. Why are you begging?” The man looked at you with a smile on his face, surprised to realize that all you needed was a command. Aaron enjoyed listening to you moaning, trembling on his lap as if you were going to faint at any moment. “Do you need me to tell you? That’s what you want, isn’t it?” He brought one of his hands to your hair, pulling it roughly so that you could look into his eyes. The darkness of desire was much clearer than any light. “You can come, pretty girl. Come for me.”

It only took those words for you to come on his lap, cumming until your eyes rolled back and your body spasmed constantly. Your cum came out in an impressive amount from your pussy, wetting the man's pants even more. Aaron held your body against his chest, running his hand through your hair until you stopped shaking.

“Fuck,” you gasped, looking up to meet the man's eyes, still dark with desire. Aaron smiled sideways, pushing your still weak body so that you lay down on the couch. The man was taller than you, considerable and attractive inches, he hovered over you, moving his hands until they found the soaked fabric of your panties. “Aaron, please,” you whimpered, closing your legs until the man's hand was trapped between them.

“Be a good girl and spread your legs wide for me, okay?” he said, his lips so close to yours that you could feel his hot breath hitting your face. It didn't take much for you to open your legs for him, moaning sensitively as you felt the fabric being pushed aside and the man's fingers moving against your lips, the wet noise seemed to echo through the silent room. "So wet, my love," you whispered, bringing your sticky fingers to your own lips, licking your cum until your digits were clean.

You couldn't hold back when you grabbed the back of the man's neck and pulled him until your lips were glued to each other, delighting in your own cum that was in his mouth. Aaron held your waist, pressing your body into the soft upholstery of the sofa, one of his hands returned to between your legs, two fingers were enough to make you almost scream against the older man's lips. He thrust them in roughly, your eyes rolling back as you felt each movement of his long, thick fingers fucking your pussy as if they were his cock. The wet noise was the only thing to be heard besides your moans during the kiss.

“You squeeze my fingers so well, darling, showing how much you want to cum again, even though you can barely keep those fucking legs straight.” He laughed sensually, breaking the kiss with his hand on her neck, squeezing until her mind was spinning a little, the amount of oxygen reduced until she was panting between moans and small screams, which increased as her second orgasm arrived.

“AARON” Your scream reverberated through those walls, when once again you reached your peak, cumming hard on the man’s fingers, until your vision went white and thick tears ran down your eyes, further increasing the wet mess that was already dripping on the couch.

Your mind was blank at that moment, but your pussy still contracted in anxiety when the man removed his fingers, hearing the soggy noise that echoed through the room, that caused a sideways smile on your lips. Aaron caressed your neck, running his other hand over your bust, taking advantage of the moment to take off the blouse you were wearing, revealing the lacy bra that held your full breasts. You looked at him with teary eyes, your face red from the tears and the effort of the orgasms that took over your body in a few minutes of rest between them.

“Even after cumming twice, are you still eager for more, dear? You are a needy little thing who deserves to be taken care of properly, to cum until your brain stops working properly and you can't say a single word completely." He said smiling, squeezing one of your breasts with the hand that ran over your abdomen. Your body was sitting on the couch, the man on his knees between your legs, using both hands to slide your panties down your legs, leaving a trail of his cum on your skin, the underwear made a wet sound as it was thrown to the floor, your bra followed suit seconds later. You were completely naked in front of the older man. "I'm going to taste you and take you in my mouth, then I'm going to fuck you with my cock until you have no more voice from screaming so much." Your cry of surprise was clear and loud when the man connected his lips with your sensitive and soaked pussy, your hands automatically flew to his dark hair, pulling and moving in a confused way. Your eyes rolled back, your head falling against the back of the furniture, everything seemed to spin around you. She felt her intimacy tightening against the older man's tongue, which went in and out, licking bundles between her lips, taking everything that was left of her previous orgasms, while a new one formed at the base of her belly.

Her thighs opened and closed, until his large hands held her open, squeezing the flesh until the red marks of his fingers were there. New tears were already running down her eyes, wetting her red and hot cheeks, her hand clenched in the strands of the man's hair, the other digging her nails into the upholstery of the sofa, her brain not working properly, her vision with white spots as another wave of cum burned in her pussy. Aaron smiled against her lips, using his fingers to press her clitoris when her orgasm finally hit her body for the third time, sobs leaving her lips as she felt the man's mouth continue sucking her intimacy, enjoying every new drop of her liquid. Confused and pleasurable screams came from his lips, repeating the older man's name constantly, his legs trembling when the fourth orgasm came a few seconds later, his eyes rolled back and saliva dripped from his open mouth, dripping onto his neck and running down to his breasts.

"You taste perfect, honey." The taller man smiled, his lips dirty from his cum as he stood up. He ran two fingers over his lips, cleaning them and bringing them to his mouth, which automatically opened to receive the man's long digits. He closed his eyes as he felt his own taste. He sucked his boss's fingers until they were completely clean, running his tongue over them as if he were sucking his cock. "I'm going to fuck you until you forget your own name, Y/N."

A confused smile appeared on her lips, but her legs opened again, as if they were an invitation to the man, who laughed and landed a weak slap on his face, making she open her eyes and moan from the small fright. Aaron was amused by her expression of pleasure and exhaustion, all that frustration and knot in her eyebrows had fallen with each of her orgasms.

“Let’s go to my bed.”

Your body was carried to the man's room, your legs entwined around his waist and your head resting gently on his shoulder. Your eyes opened when you felt the soft mattress hit your back, you sighed and looked around, too confused to care about anything other than the older man. Aaron unbuttoned his shirt, throwing it on the floor, his pants and underwear followed suit soon after, you smiled sideways, admiring your boss's body, your gaze falling on the large, thick, erect cock that rested on his defined abdomen.

The older man walked to the bed, kneeling on the mattress as he stood between your legs, which automatically wrapped around his waist. His erection rubbed against your pussy, which was once again wet, leaving a small stain on the light sheet. Your eyes met, your hands holding his broad shoulders, your nails weakly biting the light skin.

"Fuck me, Daddy," you begged, your lips parting in a low moan as you felt the thick phallus forcing against your wet hole. Aaron entered slowly, enjoying the anxious and tearful expression that his face took on, her eyes closing and opening until he finally took the older man's entire cock, his nails scratching the skin of his shoulder harder. The man moaned hoarsely, bringing one of his hands until it was pressed against the base of his belly, the burning was pleasurable, forming tears in her eyes. "O-Oh yes, please, that feels so good."

"Please what, honey?" He asked, still not moving, his hand pressing harder on her belly, causing a loud moan and a new scratch, this time on his back. "Use your words."

"Move, please, I need you." She cried, biting her lips at the extreme pleasure that returned to her body again.

Aaron began to thrust inside her, hitting spots that made her crying increase, sobs mixing with the moans and prayers that took over her lips. The older man's hand was squeezing your abdomen, moans that also came out of your lips every time you pressed his cock inside you.

He moved his hand down to play with your clitoris, pressing two fingers against your mound of nerves, causing confused screams and saliva to run down your open lips, increasing the wet mess on your cheeks. The man smiled with a moan, moving his hand down to your pussy that received his cock so well, your eyes opened in surprise when you felt two fingers forcing their way in along with the man's penis.

Your body writhed on the sheet, your nails scratching more red lines on your back, your crying increasing with that strange sensation that formed at the bottom of your belly. The man's fingers curled inside you, at the same time that his cock entered and left you forcefully, making you even wetter than you already were. Your eyes closed, your lips remained open in frequent moans, your hands flying to the sheet, squeezing the fabric and pulling it tightly.

“AARON” She screamed, feeling her vision go white with that hot sensation in his belly. It only took one thrust for her to be spurting on his cock, a squirt of cum staining the man’s abdomen and increasing the mess on the sheets. She felt the older man cumming inside her, increasing the wet mess that her pussy had become. She closed her eyes tightly, breathing heavily and the tears that continued to fall from his eyes.

Aaron left you with a soaked sound, watching his cum drip from inside your pussy. You were a mess on the sheets, your eyes closed, your face wet with sweat, saliva and tears, your hair sticking to your forehead, your breathing labored and your chest rising and falling.

The man left the bed seconds later looking for clean sheets and a wet towel, which he used to clean your body and his own abdomen. Your eyes were still closed, your breathing calmer and no more tears running from your eyes. Aaron was careful when changing the bed cover, not making it lift at any point, he threw the dirty fabric on the floor and left the room, getting a glass of water from the kitchen before returning to bed.

“Honey, I need you to drink this, you need to hydrate.” He spoke softly, stroking her hair affectionately, her eyes opened tiredly, an exhausted groan leaving her lips “Come on, drink a little and then go to the bathroom, then we can sleep”

“I’m tired” She murmured, her voice hoarse and low. Aaron held the glass until she finished drinking, smiling proudly when he saw the empty glass. The man left a kiss on her forehead, leaving the glass on top of the dresser next to the bed. “Can you carry me?”

“Of course I can, my pretty girl” He laughed weakly, running his hands over your body until you were in his lap, on the way to the bathroom.

They went back to bed after a few minutes, you fell into a deep sleep the moment you laid your head on the man’s chest, with his large hands roaming your hair and waist.

“You’re adorable, Y/N”

[queenshelby]

Daughter Dearest (Part Three)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Step! Daughter (21)

Warning: Infidelity, Smut, Dysfunctional Family

The next day, Cillian went to see his counsellor, the same woman he had been seeing every fortnight for the past two years, which is also when he had started marriage counselling with your mother. 

Enduring three years of loveless marriage had, of course, taken its toll on him, but now he had a different problem all together as, within a span of just seven days, he became somewhat  infatuated with you.

"Cillian," greeted the counsellor, opening the door to her office, and gesturing him inside.

"Niamh," Cillian greeted, as he walked past her and into the room, taking a seat on the worn brown leather couch, facing the armchair where the counsellor sat.

Niamh was a small, bird-like woman, with blonde hair perpetually pulled back into a messy bun and wire-framed glasses perched precariously on the edge of her nose. She was in her sixties and had a kind, open face that put people at ease, and Cillian had always found her to be a source of support and guidance, especially during difficult times in his life.

"How are you doing today, Cillian?" Niamh asked, setting down her pen and notebook.

He sighed heavily, rubbing his hands over his tired eyes.

"Okay, I think," he began, before diving straight in. "But, to be honest, Niamh, I'm just... confused and I need some fucking guidance," Cillian  said, his voice heavy with frustration and uncertainty.

"I see," Niamh said, nodding sympathetically. "Is it about what we discussed in our last session? Because, as I said before, at your age, not wanting to be intimate can be quite normal," Niamh said gently, referring to the fact that Cillian had lost his interest intimacy about three years ago when his marriage had become more than just slightly troubled.

He sighed deeply, rubbing his hands over his tired face. "No, actually, it's not about that," he admitted, meeting Niamh's eyes. "It's about something else.”

Niamh raised an eyebrow, but remained silent, signaling for him to continue.

"It's my stepdaughter," he confessed, "I have some sort of feelings for her. Strong ones, Niamh. I didn't see it coming. It happened suddenly, and now, I don't know what to do about it," he explained and Niamh leaned forward in her chair, her gentle eyes meeting his.

"Go on," she asked quietly, her tone supporting and understanding.

"I am attracted to her, not just platonically or paternally. I want her sexually and I feel guilty about it. I have never felt this way about anyone while I have been married, you know, but now, every time I see her, I am overwhelmed by a need to -" Cillian broke off, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

"It's okay, take your time," Niamh said gently, her words an invitation for him to continue when he was ready.

"Thank you," Cillian murmured, taking a deep breath. "It's just that, she's my stepdaughter and I know it's fucking wrong,"  he said, rubbing his hand over his face again.

"I assume that she is, uhm, your adult stepdaughter? Cliona? The one that has been living with you for a while?" Niamh asked after running through her notes, seeing that you had never been mentioned in these sessions before. 

"Cliona?" Cillian gasped. "No, it's her twin sister, Y/N. She moved in with us a few days ago," he replied, his voice filled with a sense of urgency.

"I see, and you are finding yourself attracted to her?" Niamh inquired, jotting down his response.

"Yes and it's making things really complicated. I haven't made a move. But when I am around her, I can't help but feel...enticed, and it's consuming me," Cillian admitted, his eyes lost in thought.

A moment of silence passed between them before Niamh spoke, "It's important to remember that feeling attraction to another person is not a crime, but acting on them in this situation can be problematic and harmful," she said gently.

Cillian nodded, taking that in. "I know, and I don't want to hurt her or my wife for that matter," he said, sighing deeply.

"Good. That's a healthy perspective," Niamh replied, nodding encouragingly.  "Now, let's explore this attraction you feel. What is it exactly about her that draws you in?"

Cillian sat up straighter, his gaze lost in thought as he tried to simply her feelings into words. "It's her intelligence and creativity I suppose. Her curiosity about the world is so captivating to watch," he explained, carefully choosing his words. "She's bold and there's a spark in her eyes - an unapologetic, fierce beauty - that I find incredibly attractive," Cillian confessed, his voice softening.

Niamh nodded, understanding the depth of his feelings. "It's understandable that you would be drawn to someone with those qualities. But as you already acknowldged, your feelings are complicated and can have serious consequences."

Cillian nodded solemnly, knowing that his feelings could potentially ruin his marriage and hurt his stepdaughter. "What should I do, Niamh? How do I move past this?" he asked desperately.

He was at a loss of what to do, and the guilt was consuming him.

"Firstly, Cillian, I want you to understand that it is completely normal to feel attracted to others, even if they are close to us." Niamh's voice was calm and reassuring, and Cillian felt a small sense of relief wash over him.  "So, it is important to take a step back and examine your feelings. Acknowledge them, process them, but above all, do not act on them until you have had a chance to carefully consider the consequences."

"I understand," Cillian said, nodding his head solemnly. "But how do I move past these feelings? Because I just want them to stop."  He sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

"I am afraid that you may not be able to ever truly move past these feelings," Niamh said gently. "And the only way forward, Cillian, is to address them, acknowledge them, accept them, and manage them."

Cillian took a deep breath, his voice filled with exhaustion. "Manage them, but how?" he asked, unsure of where to start.

"By making a conscious decision to distance yourself from her," Niamh replied, her voice firm but gentle. "Even in your own house, do not engage with her  unless absolutely necessary. Refrain from spending any unnecessary time with her. Focus on nurturing your relationship with your wife and your daughter Sadie."

Cillian nodded slowly, taking in her words. "Alright, I will try and do that ," he said, committing to the plan.

Niamh then leaned back in her chair, her gaze steady on him. "It's important to note that these feelings won't disappear overnight, Cillian. It will take time and hard work to manage them, but it's imperative that you do, for your own wellbeing and the wellbeing of your loved ones."

Cillian took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers. "I know," he said quietly, feeling more resolved than ever to take control of the situation and do what was best for everyone involved.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[authorred]

Li Shen/Zayne (N)SFW Headcanons bc I'm horny for this man | Love and Deepspace | gn!Reader

Preface: As enigmatic Doctor Zayne tries to be, it's not difficult for you to figure him out. In fact, it unnerves him a little as to how easily you can pick him apart (not that he'd ever admit it and blow your ego up)

I LOVE THIS MAN MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF OKAY--XAVIER MIGHT BE NEXT SO KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR THAT POOKIE X

This will definitely be NSFW (18+) so minors DNI (do not interact). Unless you do, which in that case I refuse to be held responsible for the content you consume.

Warning(s): NSFW content sprinkled in

Established lightweight--one glass of wine would make him a bit tipsy, but 4+ would make him borderline drunk

Gets more affectionate when drunk but is super pouty during??? Like he's not the one who touched you first??? Acts like he doesn't want to even though his hands are literally mapping your body like a constellation???? Tsundere even when drunk and obvious smh

When the jig is up he accepts defeat and just hugs you--doesn't care about sex or whatever, but wants to keep you close in whatever form that may be

Calls you 'my dear' a lot, and sometimes when he's feeling real romantical he'll call you 'darling, my love, sweetheart'

Doesn't like calling you 'baby'--it feels infantilizing to him. Same thing with 'baby girl' (to my fem!readers) but might do it on occasion if you really like it

Doesn't care if you call him petnames or not, but if you do he really enjoys 'my love' or if you have a nickname in another language (e.g: mi amor, 親愛なる, mon cœur, etc)

If you can speak more than one language fluently he is extremely impressed--he probably never bothered to learn another language that thoroughly, but he's super eager to be taught by you

Domestic, husband material as the fandom has agreed upon

Learn to cook together, or teach each other recipes

Is not dominant in the bedroom--or at the very least, a switch

Because you're telling me THIS MAN WHO WORKS HIS ASS OFF SAVING PEOPLE'S LIVES AND HAS THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE COUNTING ON HIM AND HIS RESEARCH AND WORK IS GOING TO GO HOME AND CONTINUE MAKING DECISIONS?

No

Not how that works psychologically

He is for your pleasure 100% but it's from a submissive stance

Will know what you want/how you want it/where you want it, and will give it to you without being asked if you're tired or are also mentally fatigued

Probably would not ask to be pleasured back, that's something you have to ease him into bc he doesn't feel he needs/deserves it?

Suck him off

Sometimes he'll come home frustrated from a bad work day, and then he might get a bit pushy/dominant

But overall he is submissive

Definitely is a top when it comes to penetration--wouldn't mind trying to get ate out/fucked from behind but I genuinely doubt he'd enjoy it that much

Might do it occasionally if you want it that badly

Does not get jealous, but gets territorial in a very condescending way

Is scared to love you at first

But he can't help it

I don't think he'd mind having kids, but I also don't think he'd mind not having kids--it'd be up to you, really

He would make a great father though--especially to a girl

Would die for you--genuinely, no exaggeration, would lay down his life for you if it meant you lived

Jokes on him bc you'd die for him too

His neck is sensitive to the touch

Always cold, please warm him up thanks

I feel like he likes iced tea but hates Arizona Tea

Likes teasing you a lot, nonsexually

He'd do well with someone contrasting to his personality

Wouldn't mind owning a cat or two, he'd just feel bad since he would have little time to spend with it

Is a sound sleeper but wakes easily

[turtlesandfrogs]

Started the day by reading this article from the NY times, and I'm frankly, disturbed.

Some highlights:

"For decades, farmers across America have been encouraged by the federal government to spread municipal sewage on millions of acres of farmland as fertilizer. It was rich in nutrients, and it helped keep the sludge out of landfills."

Which I knew, and I knew that there were concerns about contaminants from like, the medications people were on. But human waste is part of the nutrient cycle, and it always made sense to me that it should be throughly composted and returned to agricultural lands, and I assumed that people in general were taking the steps necessary to make it safe.

But here's what I didn't know:

"The 1972 Clean Water Act had required industrial plants to start sending their wastewater to treatment plants instead of releasing it into rivers and streams, which was a win for the environment but also produced vast new quantities of sludge that had to go somewhere."

Which, yay, no longer polluting bodies of water, but now that means we're applying industrial waste water to agricultural lands. And have been since 1972. Which leads to this situation, among many others, I'm sure:

"The sludge that allegedly contaminated the Colemans’ farm came from the City of Fort Worth water district, which treats sewage from more than 1.2 million people, city records show. Its facility also accepts effluent from industries including aerospace, defense, oil and gas, and auto manufacturing. Synagro takes the sludge and treats it (though not for PFAS, as it’s not required by law) then distributes it as fertilizer."

So here's what some states are doing:

"In Michigan, among the first states to investigate the chemicals in sludge fertilizer, officials shut down one farm where tests found particularly high concentrations in the soil and in cattle that grazed on the land. This year, the state prohibited the property from ever again being used for agriculture. Michigan hasn’t conducted widespread testing at other farms, partly out of concern for the economic effects on its agriculture industry.

In 2022, Maine banned the use of sewage sludge on agricultural fields. It was the first state to do so and is the only state to systematically test farms for the chemicals. Investigators have found contamination on at least 68 of the more than 100 farms checked so far, with some 1,000 sites still to be tested.

“Investigating PFAS is like opening Pandora’s box,” said Nancy McBrady, deputy commissioner of Maine’s Department of Agriculture."

This is fun:

"The E.P.A. is currently studying the risks posed by PFAS in sludge fertilizer (which the industry calls biosolids) to determine if new rules are necessary.

The agency continues to promote its use on cropland, though elsewhere it has started to take action. In April, it ordered utilities to slash PFAS levels in drinking water to near zero and designated two types of the chemical as hazardous substances that must be cleaned up by polluters. The agency now says there is no safe level of PFAS for humans...

It’s difficult to know how much fertilizer sludge is used nationwide, and E.P.A. data is incomplete. The fertilizer industry says more than 2 million dry tons were used on 4.6 million acres of farmland in 2018. And it estimates that farmers have obtained permits to use sewage sludge on nearly 70 million acres, or about a fifth of all U.S. agricultural land."

There's more, but I wanted to condense it at least a little bit. I am glad we're raising awareness, and I'm glad we're starting to regular the amount in our drinking water, and I hope that we'll find a way to actually deal with PFAS. I am so frustrated that people are exposed in the first place, and in nigh inescapable ways.

Also, to all those people who were like, oh, organic isn't at all healthier for consumers? Guess what the organic standards don't allow to be applied?

[godsfavdarling]

friends with benefits

list of chapters, also available on wattpad and Ao3, my masterlist previous chapter --- next chapter pairing: Spencer Reid x Elle Greenaway summary: There's some tension between Spencer and Elle which might get resolved. warnings: smut (blowjob, fingering) words: 4,6k a/n: we are soooo back! If yall like it I'll keep writing! I have more free time now! As always comments are very much appreciated! Thank you for reading!

Elle sat at her desk, absently flipping through case files. The steady hum of the bullpen provided a backdrop to her thoughts, which were consumed by memories of that night with Spencer. She found it increasingly difficult to focus, her mind wandering back to the feel of his lips on hers, the warmth of his hands on her waist.

She glanced up, catching sight of Spencer as he entered the room. Her heart gave a little leap at the sight of him, but it was quickly followed by a pang of disappointment. He avoided her gaze, his eyes firmly fixed on the stack of papers in his hands.

"Morning, Reid," she called out, trying to keep her tone casual.

"Morning," he replied, his voice barely above a mumble as he hurried past her desk.

Elle watched him go, a mix of frustration and sadness welling up inside her. She knew he was avoiding her, and it hurt more than she cared to admit.

Taking a deep breath, she decided she couldn't let this go on without at least trying to address it.

Later that day, when the bullpen was quieter and most of the team had left, she found her chance. Spencer was at the coffee machine, his back to her. She approached him, determined to at least start a conversation.

"Hey, Spencer," she said softly, hoping not to startle him.

He turned, a look of surprise flashing across his face. "Oh, hi Elle," he said, his tone guarded.

"Can we talk?" she asked, trying to keep her voice gentle. "I feel like we've been... distant."

Spencer hesitated, glancing around the bullpen as if searching for an escape route. The tension in his shoulders was palpable, his eyes darting nervously from desk to desk. Finally, he looked back at Elle, his voice strained. "I'm not sure now is the best time," he said.

"Why?" Elle pressed, her gaze steady and unwavering.

"I... I have a lot of paperwork left," Spencer lied, his fingers fidgeting with the stack of files in his hand.

Elle arched an eyebrow, her skepticism evident. "No, you don't."

"You don't know that," he retorted, a defensive edge creeping into his voice.

"Yes, I do. I can see it. You finished hours ago. You're doing Morgan’s paperwork," she pointed out, her tone firm and unwavering, cutting through his excuse with a clear note of frustration.

"Exactly. As I said, I still have more paperwork," he insisted, clutching at his excuse like a lifeline.

"Spencer..." Elle's voice was a mixture of frustration and concern, her eyes searching his face for any sign of the Spencer she knew - the one who was always honest, always straightforward.

"Maybe next time," he said abruptly, turning on his heel and walking away quickly. Elle watched his retreating figure, feeling a deep sigh escape her lips. She stood there for a moment, the weight of their unresolved tension pressing down on her.

The bullpen was a blur of activity around her, agents and analysts bustling about with their own tasks, but Elle felt a world apart. She returned to her desk, her mind racing with thoughts of Spencer. His avoidance was tearing at her.

Elle tried to focus on her work, but her eyes kept drifting to Spencer. She noticed the way he hunched over his desk, the way he buried himself in files and reports, anything to keep from facing her. 

Why was he avoiding her so adamantly? Did he not like the kiss? Had she misread the signs? Obviously since he left so quickly. But she was so sure. Doubts swirled in her mind, each one more troubling than the last.

As the day wore on, Elle found herself replaying their kiss in her mind. The memory was vivid - the softness of his lips, the tentative yet eager way he had responded. There had been something real in that kiss.

She knew pushing him too hard might drive him further away, but she also knew they couldn't continue like this indefinitely. 

The silence between them was deafening, and the distance only seemed to grow with each passing day. Elle resolved to give Spencer the space he needed, but she also knew she wouldn't wait forever. Something had to give.

For the next few weeks, Spencer kept his distance from her. Their work continued as usual, but Spencer carefully avoided any situations that might lead to another moment alone with her. He busied himself with case files and research, using every available distraction to keep his mind off the kiss they had shared.

His plan of avoiding her and talking about that night so far was successful. It had been weeks, and it seemed like Elle had given up, but still, sometimes he caught her staring at him like he was a wounded animal. He hated it. 

He hated that his feelings were so transparent, that his awkwardness and uncertainty were on full display. Spencer’s mind was a tumult of confusion and longing. He replayed the kiss over and over, the softness of her lips, the warmth of her touch. It had felt so right, yet the implications terrified him. He couldn’t afford to let his emotions cloud his judgment, not when their jobs demanded clear heads and professional boundaries.

It had been a few weeks since that night, and the team found themselves in the middle of a particularly challenging case. They were in a small town in Ohio, tracking a serial arsonist who had escalated to murder. 

The unsub had already claimed three victims, each one found in the charred remains of their homes, and the pressure to catch him was mounting. The team gathered in the local police station, the air thick with tension.

Hotch stood at the front of the room, outlining their strategy. "We need to divide and conquer. Morgan, you'll be with JJ interviewing witnesses. Spencer and Elle, I need you two to go through the fire department's reports and cross-reference them with the victim's backgrounds."

Spencer glanced at Elle, his expression tense, then quickly looked away. "I can manage the reports on my own," he said, his voice a little too quick, too defensive. The room went silent, everyone exchanging puzzled glances. Morgan raised an eyebrow, and JJ's lips formed a thin line of concern.

Hotch's gaze sharpened, and his voice took on a firm edge. "Reid, I assigned you and Elle to this task for a reason. You will work together."

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on him. "Fine," he muttered, his shoulders slumping slightly in resignation. 

Elle watched him, her own heart aching at the strain between them. She knew something had to give, but right now, they had a job to do.

The rest of the team dispersed to their assignments, leaving Spencer and Elle standing together in an awkward silence. Elle took a deep breath, trying to push past the tension. "Let's get to it," she said, her voice steady but her eyes searching for any sign of the Spencer she knew.

Spencer nodded, his jaw tight. "Yeah, let's go," he replied, leading the way to the records room. As they walked, the silence between them was deafening, filled with unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

The records room was dimly lit and cluttered with stacks of old reports and files. Spencer and Elle settled at a large, cluttered table, spreading out the fire department's reports and victim backgrounds. The only sounds were the rustling of paper and the occasional scribble of a pen.

After a while, Spencer looked up from his stack of reports, his expression determined. "I can look through these myself," he said, his voice tense. "I'll be quick. It will take me..." He glanced at the pile, running his finger along the edges of the papers, calculating. "...about 1 hour and 12 minutes."

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Elle's eyes narrowed, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Are you trying to get rid of me?" she snapped, unable to keep the anger out of her voice.

Spencer flinched at her tone but stood his ground. "No, I'm just trying to be efficient."

"Efficient?" Elle echoed, her voice rising. "What are you really doing, Spencer? This isn't about efficiency. You've been avoiding me for weeks. What's going on?"

Spencer's jaw tightened, and he avoided her gaze. "Nothing's going on, Elle. I'm just trying to do my job."

"Don't lie to me," Elle shot back, her eyes blazing. "I've known you long enough to know when you're hiding something. We need to talk about what happened."

Spencer finally looked up, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and frustration. "There's nothing to talk about," he insisted, his voice tight.

"Bullshit," Elle shot back, her gaze unwavering.

Spencer sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging. "What do you want to talk about then?" he asked, his tone resigned.

"How about that night you ran out of my apartment?" Elle's voice softened, concern etched in her features as she searched his eyes.

"I had to leave," Spencer replied quickly, his words almost defensive.

Elle stared at him, her expression pleading. "Spencer... please," she implored softly. "You're my friend, at least that's what I thought. I'm sorry about that night. I'm sorry, okay? I clearly misread the signs. Let's just forget about it and let's be friends."

"Okay," Spencer murmured quietly, but Elle could see the hint of disappointment in his eyes.

"Why did you run away?" Elle pressed, her voice gentle but insistent.

"You said we should forget," Spencer said quietly.

"Forget that. I need to know. Why did you run away?" Elle asked, her tone insistent.

"I just... I don't want to complicate things," Spencer admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Complicate things?" Elle repeated, her voice softening slightly. "Spencer, ignoring this is what's complicating things. We need to talk about what happened. We can't keep pretending it didn't."

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know," he said quietly, his brow furrowed in thought. "We're colleagues, Elle. Statistics show that workplace relationships can lead to complications. Studies indicate that nearly 70% of workplace romances end in dissatisfaction or even damage professional reputations. And considering our line of work, where trust and focus are critical, the risk of distraction is even higher. It's not just about us, it's about our team dynamics, our effectiveness in solving cases…"

He paused, his gaze searching Elle's face for understanding. "I'm not saying I don't care about you, Elle. It's quite the opposite. I value our friendship and working relationship immensely. I just... I worry about the implications if we were to cross that line."

Spencer's words came out in a rush, his nervous energy palpable as he struggled to articulate his concerns. He leaned back in his chair, fidgeting with a pen in his hands.

Elle looked at Spencer, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I get it. You're right. As always," she said, her tone soft with a hint of amusement.

"Not always," he added modestly.

"Yes, always. You're always right," Elle replied with a playful smile, her eyes meeting his with warmth.

The team managed to catch the unsub after a tense standoff. It was Elle who had tackled him to the ground, subduing him just as he was about to escape. The unsub put up a fierce fight, and in the struggle, Elle ended up with a black eye. The rest of the team had arrived just in time to secure the scene, but Elle's injury was the most noticeable souvenir of their confrontation.

Later that evening, as Elle sat in her hotel room, a knock sounded on her door. She opened it to find Spencer standing there, looking concerned. He held a small bag filled with painkillers and other first-aid supplies.

"Hey," he said softly, his eyes scanning her bruised face. "I brought you some things that might help with the pain."

Elle offered him a small smile. "Thanks, Spencer, but I'm fine," she replied, trying to brush off his worry.

Spencer's brow furrowed. "Elle, you need to take care of that injury. A black eye can be pretty serious. You should ice it, and take some ibuprofen to reduce the swelling. And you need to be careful not to…"

"Spencer," Elle interrupted gently, "it's okay. It's been worse before. I appreciate the concern, but I really am fine."

He hesitated, clearly wanting to say more, but then nodded. "Alright," he said reluctantly.

Elle glanced at the small bottle of whiskey on the table. "How about a drink instead?" she suggested, raising an eyebrow. "I could use one after today."

"Sure," Spencer agreed, though his uncertainty was evident. He had never been much of a drinker, but he didn't want to leave her alone, especially after the day's events.

They sat across from each other, Elle sinking into the armchair while Spencer took a seat on the sofa. She poured them each a glass of whiskey, handing one to Spencer.

"To a job well done," Elle toasted, clinking her glass against his.

Spencer smiled faintly and took a small sip, the burn of the alcohol surprising him. They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, the tension from the day slowly ebbing away.

"How are you really feeling?" Spencer asked, breaking the silence, his eyes searching hers for any sign of discomfort.

Elle sighed, leaning back in her chair. "Honestly? Tired, sore, but... I feel good. We got him. That's what matters."

Spencer nodded, his eyes still filled with concern. "You were amazing out there today. I don't know how you do it."

Elle shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. "Just doing my job. We all are. Besides," she added with a wry smile, "I've had worse. A black eye is nothing. Today was a success."

Spencer looked down at his drink, swirling it in the glass. "I just... I worry about you, Elle."

She reached out, placing a hand on his knee. "I know you do. And I appreciate it. But I can handle myself. You don't need to worry so much."

He looked up, meeting her gaze. "I can't help it," he admitted, his voice soft. "I care about you."

Elle's expression softened, "I care about you too, Spencer. More than you know."

Her gaze drifted over him as he sat across from her, his lean frame slightly hunched, his neat hair perfectly in place. She noted the delicate features of his face and the way his furrowed brows framed his intelligent, earnest eyes. There was a gentleness to him, an almost fragile quality that belied the strength she knew he possessed. 

They sat in silence, the tension between them palpable. Spencer looked up from his drink, catching her stare, and for a moment, their eyes locked. She could see the uncertainty and curiosity mirrored in his gaze, a reflection of her own conflicted feelings.

Finally, breaking the silence that hung heavy between them, Elle asked "Did you like the kiss?", her tone gentle yet probing.

Spencer hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. "What?" he replied, caught off guard by her directness.

"You heard me. Did you like it?" Elle pressed, her gaze steady on his.

"Um... yeah, but I don't think..." Spencer began, his words trailing off uncertainly.

"How much did you like it? A lot?" Elle persisted, leaning forward slightly, her curiosity evident.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, meeting her gaze reluctantly. "Elle..." he started, unsure how to articulate his feelings.

"Just answer me, Reid," Elle urged softly, her voice gentle yet insistent.

"Yes," Spencer admitted quietly, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "I liked it... a lot."

"Hmm," Elle murmured thoughtfully, a small smile playing on her lips. "I liked it too. I'm glad."

Spencer chuckled nervously, a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression as he brushed a hand through his hair.

"You're a good kisser," Elle added, her tone warm and teasing.

Spencer chuckled again, his nerves evident but his smile genuine. "Thanks," he replied softly.

"You know... sometimes people can just enjoy themselves, have fun together and not worry," Elle continued, her tone turning more serious. "Don't worry about feelings and relationships."

Spencer looked at her, a mixture of confusion and concern in his eyes. "I worry about your feelings," he admitted quietly.

"You know what I mean, Reid," Elle said gently.

He sighed softly, his gaze dropping to his knees. 

"I like you. You like me. I can see how you're looking at me," Elle continued, her voice earnest. "We can still be friends and work together and... have some fun."

Spencer swallowed nervously, processing her words carefully. "I'm not sure I'm following," he confessed, his voice hesitant.

"Do you want to have sex?" Elle asked bluntly, her eyes searching for his response.

Spencer stared at her, flustered, his face turning a deep shade of red. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and his mind raced with conflicting thoughts.

"I... uh..." he stammered, looking away as he tried to collect himself. "Elle, this is... unexpected."

She leaned back slightly, giving him space while maintaining her steady gaze. "I know, Spencer. But I'm serious. We both felt something that night. We both need something right now. Why not each other?"

Spencer took a deep breath, his eyes flicking back to hers. "But... What about our friendship? Our work? What if things get complicated?"

Elle smiled softly, understanding his concerns. "We can set boundaries. We can be clear about what this is and what it isn't. We respect each other, right? We can make it work."

He hesitated, biting his lip as he considered her words. "But what if it affects how we work together? What if it changes things between us?"

"It doesn't have to," Elle replied gently. "We'll communicate. We'll be honest with each other. And if at any point either of us feels uncomfortable or wants to stop, we will. No hard feelings."

Spencer looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or insincerity. He found none. Just honesty and a shared desire. "You really want this?"

"I do," Elle said firmly. "I think we can be adults about this. And I think it could be good for us. A distraction, a way to unwind. No strings attached, just... mutual benefit."

Spencer nodded slowly, feeling a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. "Okay," he said quietly. "But we need to promise each other, if it starts to get complicated, we stop. We talk."

"Absolutely," Elle agreed. "No pressure, no expectations. Just us, taking it one step at a time."

Spencer felt a small smile tug at his lips, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Alright then. Friends with benefits."

Elle smiled back, squeezing his hand gently. "Friends with benefits."

She stood up, taking a few steps to position herself in front of Spencer, who was still sitting on the couch looking up at her. She bent down, placing her hands on the backrest of the couch, her face inches from his. Her eyes locked onto his, and Spencer felt a flutter of nerves and anticipation in his stomach.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the room filled with a tense, expectant silence. Elle's eyes searched his, and Spencer could see the determination and warmth in her gaze. He felt his breath quicken as she slowly moved her face closer, her lips brushing lightly against his.

The initial contact was soft, almost tentative, as if testing the waters. Spencer's eyes fluttered closed, his heart pounding in his chest. Elle's lips were warm and inviting, and he responded, pressing back gently.

Their kisses were slow at first, exploring and savoring the moment. Elle's hand moved to cup the side of his face, her thumb caressing his cheek. Spencer's hands found their way to her waist, holding her gently as if she might slip away.

As the kiss deepened, a spark ignited between them. Elle's movements became more insistent, her lips parting to invite him in. 

Spencer hesitated for a brief moment before following her lead, his tongue tentatively brushing against hers. The sensation was electric, sending a shiver down his spine.

Elle's hands moved from the backrest to his shoulders, pulling him closer as she straddled his lap. Spencer's hands slid up her back, feeling the warmth of her skin through her shirt. Their kisses grew more urgent, a mix of passion and need. 

Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer. Spencer's hands roamed her back, gripping her tighter as their kiss became more intense. 

He could feel the heat of her body against his, the rhythm of her breath matching his own. Their tongues danced together, exploring and tasting, the kiss filled with a hunger that had been building for months.

Elle pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against his, both of them breathing heavily. She looked into his eyes, her expression a mix of desire and affection. "You okay?" she whispered, her voice husky.

Spencer nodded, his eyes still closed, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah," he breathed. "More than okay."

Elle smiled back, pressing a soft kiss to his lips once more before pulling away just enough to speak. "Good. Because I think we're just getting started."

She stood up and took his hand, urging him to stand up too. She leaned in and kissed him again, her lips soft and insistent against his. 

With a gentle pull, she led them over to her bed, sitting him down and then kneeling before him. Spencer's breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Wait," he said, his voice trembling. 

Elle paused, looking up at him with concern. "Do you want to stop? It's okay if you do."

Spencer's face flushed, and he could feel his arousal, hard and insistent, straining against his pants. He was overwhelmed, the intensity of his emotions and the situation pressing down on him. He put his face in his hands, trying to gather his thoughts.

"Is everything okay?" Elle asked softly, her voice full of genuine concern.

He nodded, taking a deep breath. "I'm fine, it's just... I've never been with a girl before, and it feels wrong. You… doing this, and I don't even know what I'm doing."

Elle's expression softened, and she reached out to gently cup his cheek still kneeling between his legs. "It's okay, Spencer. I'll show you. We'll take it slow. Can I keep going?"

He swallowed hard, then nodded. "Yes, please."

With a reassuring smile, Elle continued. She leaned in, kissing him again, this time more gently. Her hands moved to unbutton his pants, freeing him from his constraints. 

She wrapped her fingers around his length, feeling him shudder at her touch. She began to pleasure him with her mouth, her movements slow and deliberate, ensuring he was comfortable every step of the way.

Her lips slid over him, her tongue swirling and teasing. Spencer's breath came in ragged gasps. He watched her, a mix of awe and desire in his eyes. The sight of her, head bobbing rhythmically, sent waves of pleasure coursing through him. He couldn't help but let out soft moans, his fingers gently tangling in her hair.

The sensation built up inside him, a tension coiling tighter with each of her movements. He could feel himself getting closer, his breaths coming in shorter, sharper bursts. 

“Elle, I—” he tried to warn her, but she only intensified her efforts, her eyes locking onto his.

Spencer's body tensed as the waves of pleasure crested and then crashed over him. He let out a strangled cry, his fingers clenching in her hair as he released. Elle stayed with him through it, her mouth working expertly, not missing a beat.

As the last shudders ran through him, Elle tenderly released him, her lips glistening. She swallowed, a satisfied look in her eyes, and wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.

Spencer lay back, chest heaving, staring up at her in a mix of disbelief and gratitude.

Elle stood up, her eyes never leaving Spencer's. She reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, revealing her smooth, toned torso. Spencer's breath caught in his throat as he watched her, mesmerized. Next, she unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor, exposing her breasts. His eyes widened, taking in every detail, every curve.

She unbuttoned her pants, sliding them down her legs, her movements slow and deliberate. Finally, she stepped out of her underwear, standing before him completely bare. Spencer couldn't tear his gaze away. She was stunning.

With a confident grace, Elle climbed on top of him. Her eyes met his, full of reassurance and desire. She took his hand and guided it between her legs, pressing his fingers against her warmth.

"Here," she whispered, showing him how to touch her. "Just follow my lead."

Spencer's fingers hesitantly explored her, sliding through her wetness, feeling the slick heat of her arousal. Elle's soft moan spurred him on, a sound that sent a shiver down his spine. He marveled at the contrast between her assertive demeanor and the vulnerability she displayed now, her body arching into his touch.

Elle's hips began to move against his hand, her rhythm slow and sensuous, guiding him. Spencer's initial hesitation melted away, replaced by growing confidence. He studied her reactions, the way her breath hitched when his fingers brushed against a particularly sensitive spot, the way her eyes fluttered closed as she lost herself in the sensation.

His fingers found a steady rhythm, moving with increasing certainty, sliding in and out of her with gentle yet deliberate strokes. He used his thumb to circle her clit, and Elle gasped, her grip on his shoulders tightening. 

"Like that," she murmured, her voice thick with pleasure. "Keep going."

Spencer watched her intently, his heart pounding in his chest. He was captivated by the sight of her, the way her body writhed in response to his touch. He could feel the tension building within her, her muscles tensing, her breaths coming in short, ragged bursts.

Elle's movements grew more urgent, her hips grinding against his hand, seeking release. Spencer adjusted his fingers, curling them slightly to press against her G-spot, his thumb maintaining its steady rhythm on her clit. 

The effect was immediate. Elle's eyes flew open, a gasp escaping her lips as pleasure surged through her. She leaned forward, her legs spread on either side of his stomach, moaning into his ear. One of her hands tangled in his hair while the other gripped the sheets. Spencer's other hand wrapped around her, holding her close to his chest, feeling the vibrations of her moans against his skin.

"Spencer," she breathed, her voice a mix of desperation and ecstasy. "I'm close."

He could feel it too, the way her walls tightened around his fingers, the way her whole body seemed to be coiling tighter and tighter. He continued his ministrations, his focus entirely on her, determined to bring her to the peak of pleasure.

With a final, shuddering gasp, Elle's body tensed, her back arching as her orgasm washed over her. She cried out, a raw, uninhibited sound, her inner muscles spasming around his fingers. Spencer watched in awe as she came, his hand never faltering, prolonging her pleasure until she collapsed against him, spent and trembling.

Elle's breathing gradually slowed, her body relaxing as the waves of her orgasm ebbed away. She lifted her head to look at him, her eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and tenderness. 

"That was... incredible," she whispered, her voice still breathless.

Spencer smiled, a flush of pride warming his cheeks. "I'm glad," he replied softly, his fingers still resting gently against her.

[empty-fantasies]

Burning

Love involving Mortefi is like a flickering flame; fueled by blazing passion and embraced by gentle affection

Character(s) Included: Mortefi

gn!reader, fluff, mindless ramblings from eden once again

It takes an attentive and mindful approach to endure the fiery passion known as Mortefi’s love.

Treading carefully at the beginning of the flaming romance, as if one wrong move would create a gust of wind and take out the flame you had oh-so-painstakingly pined after for so long. It was no easy feat to come to terms with your ever growing love for the Head of the Tacetite Weaponry Branch. Nor was it any less difficult to accept the possibility of rejection should you carelessly smother that fire by beating around the bush about your sudden awkwardness the manifested upon realization.

Patience was required when the meter approaches its limits and manifests in frequent groans of frustration and a near permanent frown. The flame, as you have learned, can easily burn you if you’re not careful with your own words. He’s a straightforward man, after all. Which was evident in his rather blunt way of confessing to you that eventful day and something that had always seemingly caught you off guard in unsuspecting moments. Would you complain about this? Not at all, contrary to your playful complaints that your heart was far too fragile for such (Mortefi would rather admit to defeat against Xiangli Yao before ever confessing openly around others that he simply adored your varied reactions).

Love, in the way that Mortefi expresses it, was all consuming. There was no lack of effort on his part. A point was made for each planned date and every little moment of exploration that no words were needed to express the everlasting devotion he had for you and only you. Determination to perfect everything despite your constant reassurances that occasional mishaps and derailed plans (due to a certain someone’s habit of sacrificing his sleep every now and then) happen. It engulfed your entire being; heart, mind, and soul. Overwhelming as it may sound, you welcomed it fully and returned just as much by fanning the flames, having quickly become accustomed to the heat long before you even realized it yourself. Much to your surprise, you too have also found yourself adopting new habits just to show as much appreciation and effort as he does.

As consuming as it is, Mortefi does have an uncharacteristic gentleness that many are not privy to picking up by mere observation alone. A comforting warmth, one that reminded you of serenity found in a cup of tea on a winter night spent in bed. You wouldn’t deny that you were a bit selfish in wanting to keep this warmth to yourself at first—desiring nothing more than to bask in the fact of knowing that only you were able to experience such without limits.

Sweet-tempered fingers would dance across your skin, taking hold of your hand in silent moments when either of you are finishing up reports. Tenderhearted words responding to your curious questions about the classical music to echoes softly every now and then. A rare pink hue dancing across his cheeks the moment any small praise falls from your lips. As the fervent flames roar of adoration, they also invoke a sense of comfort shared just between the two of you. There were no walls other than the ones that shielded this flame of love from gusty winds of doubt and weariness. To bask in such has made you realize that perhaps that selfish desire for keeping it to yourself was a wish instead to keep this flame alive—to endure all this is to come in the future.

Mortefi’s love is an ardent flame; ever-consuming in the way that he has to make it known where his heart resides. Yet, it is also a soothing warmth marked by the solace found in butterfly kisses and gentle gazes. To you, the ever curious lover of his, the heat is gladly welcomed each and every single time.

[votive-candle]

So I've been considering a rebrand on this blog for a long time for "professional" reasons... like changing my username, making an official portfolio with my name to it elsewhere, etc.

This idea has been mostly motivated by this deep insecurity I have surrounding what I would say is either NSFW work, suggestive art, "fangirl" energy, all that. And it's... frustrating, to say the least. And difficult express in a way that's coherent. Because my personal feelings are that art, even art that within the sphere of industry that I want to approach (ie. game art & story design, character writing and so on), should not have to be confined within this box of "sensibilities" that I'm told it should be.

If I was doing fine art like painting, or making installations, or sculpture, I get a sense that this puritanical ideology of self-censorship would not be expected of me. I also get a sense that if I was born male and lived as a man, there would be different industry expectations of me also. If I was a cis dude I don't think a game director would mind if I had a portfolio full to the brim with borderline naked, hypersexualised women and girls with big swords and huge racks (no shade, big boobs and big swords are fun and cool). But -- and again I don't have evidence of this, it's just a hunch -- I somehow get this idea that the way I approach drawing masculine figures? The way I write and express myself through, and speak about characters? The sexually explicit artwork I've drawn over the years, which majoritively does not even show genitalia? I get this gut feeling that this would be much less... palatable (?) in the industry for commercial, media focused art.

I've been drawing sexual content since I was a teen fangirl and I think it's really strange that somehow, as I get older and more mature (and I'm serious here, like really, let that sink in? I was told directly "you're not a kid anymore, potential employers won't like this" in response to shipping art an old tutor saw me post online a few years back?), it's considered in many ways less appropriate for me to produce explicit or sexually themed artwork. Particularly when that art has that air of "fangirl" (or "fan-person" in regards to myself) around it. Because "fangirls" aren't professional, are they? They're vapid, of course. They don't consume art meaningfully, not like strong, stoic men do. No, they just want their shipping and their coffeeshop AU's and their moodboards, and there's nothing creative in that, is there? No "professional practice" there.

I just find that... baffling

I'm speaking from the perspective of someone who is borderline asexual on that spectrum, and always has been. Somehow, professionalism is partly hinged on making your art less exploratory of adult themes, once you become an adult, once you're old enough to understand and properly illustrate the importance of adult themes. Isn't that strange to anyone else? Because to me it feels wrong.

Like I said, I'm borderline asexual. I don't draw sexual content to get my rocks off. I draw it because I find physical intimacy to be one of the most multifascited expressions of humanity between people. Sex and sexuality are so dynamic in their capacity for storytelling. With it (and safely so through fiction, if you're careful about it), you can express and explore so much; passion obviously, love, but also sadness and grief and condolence, malice and rage, heartbreak, self-destruction, self-improvement, excitement, fun, even just friendship.

Sex is beautifully dynamic from a humanistic standpoint. It shouldn't need to be considered this looming force of demonitisation, or an industry blockade. And I understand I have drawings that are too graphic, too NSFW to put in a professional portfolio, to leave online for employers to see. But I'm not even talking about smut here.

Majoritively, I really don't want to distance myself from a lot of this work I've created. It means something to me dude, because these characters and stories mean something to me. Sometimes the drawing itself is just... a technically well executed drawing. I don't want to revoke that because there's an implication of "ooh, someone's touching ass, breast and dick in there!"

Yet by expressing my excitement over that, I do feel cornered. Like I'll never get hired anywhere. Which isn't easy given the struggles I already have with disability, mental health, etc. So I feel a need to sort of give in and retcon a lot of my posts.

I don't like that finding work in the fields I'm interested in kind of hinges on a lack of self-expression, I suppose. I find it bitterly ironic since I want to work in creative fields. It feels like a betrayal of the self and of the purpose of art and good media for grown individuals.

But hey, I guess that's capitalism, baby.

This blog might change a bit in the near or semi-near future. Maybe a new username or profile pic, I'm not sure yet. Maybe a second blog will pop up somewhere. I just wanted to vent a bit on my disdain in having to make these decisions. Beg your pardon.