#he helps me stay realistically positive

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

I love him

[iniquitousyearning]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS

dec 10th. tom riddle — oral sex, experienced!tom.

RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. I 2024

summary: your ex couldn’t make you orgasm, so you were certain you were broken. tom shows you just how wrong you are.

warnings: 18+, SMUTTT MDNI, tom riddle can eat me aliv—sorry who tf said that?, tom riddle is such a realist; he sees a problem and he finds a solution, tom is a munch, praise kink, oral f!receiving, experienced tom, hufflepuff!reader.

Months pass, and your project remains the only thing Tom ever prioritizes when it's you asking.

Progress is slow—slow because you're usually far too busy talking to actually focus—yet, he always stays. He listens, even when the things you say should bore him, even when they mean nothing at all. He sits there—giving you hardly the barest scraps of himself in return as you fill the space between you with everything that crosses your mind.

Things he'd never waste a second hearing from anyone else.

And tonight, to no-one's surprise, you're doing it again—rambling on about nothing and everything all at once. You've got this way of talking—weaving tangents into something almost poetic, and usually, he lets it fade into the background as he works. You're saying something about the differences between the seasons, or maybe it's just some other kind of sentimental nonsense—at this point, he's not entirely sure.

It's easy to tune out. He tells himself he's not really listening.

Until—

"Actually, I guess I should clarify that—it's all hypothetical. I don't date," he doesn't know what you said before this, but he's certainly intrigued by it now. "And really, it has nothing to do with like, self esteem or anything, I'm just broken. Best to save someone the trouble."

That stops him cold. It's not so much the declaration that you don't date—he could have guessed that himself—but more so the way you've just called yourself broken.

It's not a word he's ever heard you use before.

"What do you mean, broken?" He asks, the question coming out far more blunt than he probably intended.

It just seems so out of character for you—you've always been an optimist, far too annoyingly positive to speak of anything this way. He blinks when you freeze, and blinks again when a moment of self consciousness seems to pass over your face—and he notes how that's a first for you, too.

"Broken...as in, uh, not normal," your eyes flit down to your lap, tracing the wood beneath where you're seated on the floor in his dorm. "My ex made that very clear in his assessment of me."

The mention of an ex is something he'd been anticipating—you're in your twenties, after all—but it's the idea that your ex is the source of you calling yourself broken, that he can't quite swallow.

"You're 'broken' because of one ex?" He says, and he can't stop how derisive and skeptical his voice sounds. He doesn't care to try. "I'm not following."

"I'm what you'd call, damaged goods, I think," you murmur, and there's an almost self-deprecating smirk on your face. He can't help but think how he's never seen that look on you, either. "I've got a slew of unhealthy baggage that comes along with me. You know, childhood traumas, abandonment issues, daddy issues—"

He snorts at that—daddy issues—and your head snaps up, smirk deepening despite yourself.

"Don't snort at my daddy issues," you huff, and there's a familiar annoyance in your voice that puts him at ease. "They're valid and real."

"I'm not denying their validity," he counters, his own smirk beginning to surface. "But daddy issues? Come on. You're not some tired cliché ripped out of a teenage romance novel. I refuse to accept your declaration of brokenness until you give me factual reasoning."

You laugh at that—alive and genuine—and for a moment, he's reminded of why he even tolerates you in his space at all.

"Fine," you cross your arms over your chest. "What do you want to know then?"

He makes a low, contemplative sound at that—because there's a million questions that come to mind with the words damaged goods—and after a moment, he settles on the one that falls out first.

"What is it, precisely, that makes you broken?"

You sigh, a bit theatrically—he knows you're just putting on a show and he wants to laugh at you for it—but he reigns that in, for now, while you figure out how you're going to respond to that.

The truth is, you don't know how to tell him the real reason you're broken—the part that has nothing to do with the laundry list of emotional baggage you could rattle off with ease. It's something...different.

Something more physical.

"I don't know, okay?" You're getting defensive. You're not sure why but you are. "Just—forget I said anything. We have this assignment to—"

"You dodging the question tells me it's more than just psychological," he cuts you off, leaning back into the couch. The way he's looking at you makes it clear—there's no way he's letting this go. "You getting defensive tells me you're embarrassed by it."

You sigh again, leaning back on your palms to mirror his body language, though it doesn't feel half as natural on you as it does on him.

"And you, being an insufferable arse, is telling me I never should have mentioned it in the first place."

His smirk at that makes you want to glare at him.

"Stop dodging," he says. "You brought it up. You don't get to take it back."

It's a challenge—the gleam in his eyes is practically screaming so. You're not sure why the sight of it makes something low in your stomach clench, and you're even less sure of why you want to tell him something like this—something you haven't told anyone else—not friends, certainly not family.

Whatever the reasoning, you can feel yourself relent.

"Maybe," you pause, the look on his face makes you second guess yourself. "...maybe I don't want to tell you because I'm afraid you'll look at me differently." You glance down at your lap, fingers twitching against the yellow pleats of your skirt before finally meeting his eyes again. "And I kind of like the way you look at me now."

Something like curiosity passes over his expression at that—but it's quickly hidden by the type of skepticism that tells you he still doesn't believe you're being serious.

"You're overthinking it," he replies, unmoving. "Whatever it is you think you're going to tell me, I'm not going to look at you differently. You're still you—no filter, unabashedly verbal—"

"Too verbal. Too positive, too loud," you finish his sentence for him—because you know that's how he thinks of you. "Too annoyingly optimistic. Far too hufflepuff for your cold snake skin. I know."

"Exactly," he says, tongue running over his bottom lip in attempt to quell his smirk. "So I reiterate. There's nothing you could tell me that would change that."

"Fine," you relent, giving in begrudgingly because you know there's no other option. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

He just lifts a hand at that, as if to say; whatever you think it is, I can handle it. The action makes you suck a breath into your lungs, trapping it there.

"You're right," you say after a long exhale. "I have a slew of psychological bullshit that would take the span of a year for me to fully go over in one sitting—but, I'm fine with it. That's...that's not the thing that made me call myself broken."

He says nothing, just makes a motion with his eyes for you to keep going.

"It's, uhm...physical." You whisper, and your brain is moving too much and too fast and you're not even completely sure how to say it without sounding insane. "And...I don't know, I just...I can't orgasm. No matter what. I just can't—it's frustrating and embarrassing and it's the reason my ex ended things."

There's a silence that follows, and he knows if it were anyone else, they'd probably find a way to comfort you. Reassure you. Tom, however, isn't anyone else—

"You're joking," he says, and his tone is incredulous again.

A self-depreciating laugh leaves your lips involuntarily, the sound of it making you almost want to cringe.

"Would it be less embarrassing if I was?"

He's still just watching you, dissecting your words as if waiting for you to crack a smile and confess this was all some stupid joke—and the vulnerability of it aches like a stab to the gut.

"This is the reason you think you're broken?" Is what he goes with when he finally realizes you're being serious. "Because you haven’t orgasmed?"

The bluntness of it makes you flush, makes you wish you could sink into the floor. "I know it's not normal, okay—"

"It's not an abnormality, either," he asserts, with casualty. "You might just have a disconnect."

You blink, caught off guard—not just by his choice of words, but by how matter-of-fact he sounds, like this isn't the mortifying confession it feels like.

"A disconnect?"

"A disconnect," he repeats, looking you over, something clinical slipping into his eyes. "Between mind and body. And considering how loud your thoughts are—"

"Hey—" you snap, suddenly feeling a bit indignant, but he just continues on.

"—it's not surprising that you can't get out of your own head."

You open your mouth to argue, to tell him he's not a therapist, so what the hell does he know? But the certainty in his expression makes you pause. He doesn't look patronizing or condescending, just...assured. Like he knows exactly what he's talking about.

You hesitate, lips parting, a protest forming on your tongue. Before you can say anything, though, he raises a hand to stop you.

"Come here," he says, standing up from the couch.

You blink, trying to decipher what the hell he's implying—because if anything, the last thing that's going to make you less paranoid about intimacy is proximity.

"What?"

He just looks at you, making a motion with two fingers, beckoning you to stand.

"Don't ask questions. Just come here."

It's an order, and it makes your spine tingle in a way that's definitely not comfortable—but you get up from the floor, and move closer to him anyway, closing the distance between you with only a few steps until you're close enough to him that you can practically feel the heat that seems to come off him in waves.

It's weird—he's suddenly too much all at once—you're so much more aware of him being in front of you than you think you've ever been before and it does not help that he's just looking at you—as if studying you—blinking only once as he raises those same two fingers to your neck, resting them against the pulse point at your throat.

Your entire body tenses. His touch is far more gentle than you ever imagined it being, something disarming that makes your pulse beat faster against his fingers as a result—and because this is Tom, with all his smug and certainty—he gives you a look that tells you he can feel it before he slides his fingers up to rest on your forehead.

You scowl at the motion, but he clicks his tongue, the sound as condescending as it is amused.

"I told you, you're an overthinker." He murmurs, eyes dipping to your lips. "Too much noise."

You want to refute that—mostly because you're not overthinking, you can't be—he's just so unequivocally overwhelming—

"I'm not—"

You start, but he moves his fingers from your forehead and places them against your lips—

"Quiet." He scolds, and that makes something low in your stomach clench. "Your body knows what to do. You're just letting your thoughts get in the way."

You long to protest again, just for the sake of defiance—but then his fingers are against your collarbone, and that motion in your stomach becomes a bit more of a squirm—

"Your body is trying to tell you something," he whispers, watching each little hitch in your breath. "But you're too busy talking over it to hear what it's saying."

You realize—with a sort of horror that's laced with something a little more uncomfortable—that he's right. Your body is trying to say something. It's communicating through the unsteady force of your breaths, through the clench of your fists against your skirt—

Of course, he notices. He's noticing far too much.

"Relax," he murmurs, and now he's trailing those same two fingers in an unhurried path down your shoulder. You suddenly regret every decision that led to you wearing a T-shirt. "I'm not going to bite you."

Something about the way he says it makes you wish he wasn't quite so convincing—the familiar banter you long for gone with the sharp exhale that comes out of your mouth as his fingers encircle your wrist—

"Your pulse is racing," he says casually, far too casually for how much effort it's taking you not to scream. "Does that seem broken to you?"

Gods—you want to respond—you really, really do— but your thoughts flatline when you realize his touch has shifted. He's no longer just holding your wrist; he's guiding your hands to rest against his chest, and—

"There you go," he whispers, and the tone of it tells you he knows exactly what it is he's doing to you. "See? Your body's doing exactly what it's meant to do. You—" his fingers trail up your arms, and his voice gets lower. "—are not broken."

You swallow hard, acutely aware of your hands on his chest and the way your palms are clammy against the fabric of his shirt. He's shifting you now, deliberately crowding you, and it's only when you feel the edge of the couch press against the back of your calves that you realize—perhaps a second too late—exactly what it is he's doing.

You stumble back onto the leather, and he follows—crushing his lips to yours.

You gasp, startled, because despite everything you truly hadn't seen this coming. The kiss is messy, clumsy, and his hand finds the nape of your neck, tugging at your hair with just enough force to make it sting. And inevitably, when you gasp again, he takes it as an invitation to work his tongue into your mouth, other hand slipping under your shirt—trailing up your stomach.

You're trembling now, and he makes a low sound at the realization. Your brain is racing to catch up, and the irony of this isn't lost on you—he'd just claimed you weren't broken, but he might as well be destroying you himself.

He parts from your lips only to trail his own across your jaw—

"You're shaking," he murmurs with a smirk against your throat—as if he's taking immense pleasure in the fact—you hate how smug it makes him sound. "Do you want me to stop?"

You want to tell him he's being a bastard, but then his lips press to that spot on your neck—the one that makes your breath hitch and your pulse stutter—and you find yourself whimpering at the sensation.

"No," you breathe, and you'd be embarrassed by the pleading tone in your voice if you weren't so lost in the moment. "Don't stop."

He makes another low, satisfied noise at that.

"Good," he whispers. "No thinking. Just feel."

You swallow—throat dry. It's unfair how easily he's dismantling you with nothing but his mouth and hands. Unfair how he's leaving you breathless and unraveling while somehow making you feel seen in a way you can't explain, even with your eyes shut.

"Tom," you find yourself whimpering, and you aren't even sure what you're asking for—you just know you want more as his lips trail lower—as his fingers work to tug down your skirt. "Gods."

"Shh. Feel me," he murmurs, almost possessively, his lips brushing lower, grazing over your stomach, then your pelvis. "Let your body do the talking."

You've got your hands tangled in his hair before you even know what you're doing, and you hate the fact that you're pretty sure you'd melt into a puddle if he weren't holding you together.

"I feel you," you whimper as he kisses lower. "You're all I feel."

He makes another low sound at that, and you just know it's the response of ‘yeah, that’s right’—but then he's between your legs, panties shifted out of the way, and the first sweep of his tongue against your clit makes all coherent thought shift to static.

"Oh! God," you gasp, the word barely escaping before dissolving into a whimper when he does something with his tongue that makes your vision blur. "Tom—oh, fuck."

He just makes that smug, satisfied noise against you again before his tongue swirls over your clit and you find yourself almost cursing whatever deity made him so good at this, because it's not fair how quickly he reduced you to a whimpering, shaking mess beneath him and—

"Don't stop," you find yourself babbling, digging your nails into his scalp and knowing you look like a goddamn wreck as he makes a meal out of you—tongue lapping up your slick and swirling your clit before sealing his lips around it and forcing your back off the leather beneath it. "Please, don't stop, please—"

It's all you can manage to say. Your thighs are shaking now, and you're sure he's got you dripping all over his face with how soaked you are. He knows you're falling apart and he just keeps going— your brain ceasing function in favour of just focusing on how fucking close you are—how close you are to something you've never felt before in your life—and you're not even sure what you're begging for anymore but it's incoherent and loud—

"I need—" you whimper, your hands tightening in his hair, pulling just enough to make him groan against you. You don't know what you're asking for, but you know he has it. "I need—I need—“

"Let go," he murmurs against you, the roughness in it vibrating up into your belly. "I dare you."

There's still a little bit of you functioning on autopilot, just enough to tell you that when he murmurs those words—vibrations rattling up your cunt and into your chest—you're completely done for.

It’s merely a few seconds later that your high reaches its peak and he just keeps lapping as you shake apart beneath him with an intensity you've never felt before in your life—orgasm shredding you apart at the seams. Your thighs clamp around his face, your eyes squeezed shut, ears ringing so loud you barely register his low, muttered praises: "good girl," "so good," "there you go."

You’re fairly positive your legs will never be able to support you again when you finally come back down, feeling entirely like jelly as he pulls back, tongue flicking over his lips to clean off whatever's left of you.

And without thinking, you grab him and pull him up, crashing your lips against his in a messy, desperate kiss. He tastes like you, like him, like something you can't quite describe—and it makes everything feel intense and unbearably real all at once.

He gives you a moment, as if letting you recover, just languidly kissing you back—and you have to be honest with yourself and admit that this kind of makes you want to scream.

"A disconnect," he smirks against your mouth, the tone still smug. You manage a weak smack to his shoulder, though it does nothing to wipe the satisfaction off his face. "Still sure you're broken?"

You hate that he's right. Hate that he's managed to pull a reaction from you that you didn't think was possible. But as you sit there, shaky and spent, you know you can't deny the truth: no, you're not broken.

"Not broken." You whisper back. "You will be though, if you don't stop smirking at me like that."

[spencerrreiddd]

Three, Two, One. - Chapter 1

Summary: You and Spencer have worked in the BAU together for years, since the beginning but now, he's your boss and something quite big is happening in your life & soon to be Spencer's life after needing each others help to unwind.

Pairing: UnitChief!Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

WC: 3.3k

Warnings: Pregnancy, Angst, Cheating??

A/N: LOW & BEHOLD- here lays my first beauty. - my apologies is this is complete shit, I have not written in a while & I may have to get my special touch back. - anyways, i hope you guys like it ! 🔪🤍

Three, Two, One. Chaper 2.

three, two, one-

pregnant.

You were pregnant. You were pregnant with your bosses baby.

Spencer has not always been your boss, you actually started working for the BAU a month before he had even started working there.

He took over Emily's position once she moved up to FBI Director a few months back, at that congratulations party is when something sparked between you and Spencer- just, neither of you acted on it

You remember exactly how and when it happened too, it was the party after his promotion to Unit Chief. Goddamn promotion parties. You didn’t think you drank that much, until you woke up naked beside your new boss.

The temptation to pack a bag and hop on a flight across the world sounded so appetizing right now in your mind, too bad that it isn't realistic & you were going to have to face the facts and that was including, him.

There was never any “no speaking of this” - only us meeting up at my apartment, his apartment, our hotel rooms when we were on a case and needed to ‘unwind’ - the last time you and Spence had even slept together was 2-3 weeks ago anyway, of course when y'all needed to unwind after a case. Who could've guessed that one?

You were snatched from your thoughts when you heard your phone ringing from your bedroom- running for it, you were hoping that it wasn't Spencer.

‘Penelope Garcia 🖥️💖🍩’ 'thank the heavens' you silently think to yourself

“What’s up, Penny”

“Spencer is busy, he put me on duty to call you to find out if you plan to show your face at work today, ya know- since it is a work day and no show, no calls are frowned upon here" Your neck snaps to look at your alarm clock.

"Also, he wants to see you in his office once you get here"

7:32 A.M - have I seriously been staring at a positive pregnancy test for an entire hour?

“Fuck. See you soon. I'm leaving right now"

The short drive to work felt longer than it should have, probably because you took back roads to avoid having to see him again so soon. If you were already running late, what is a few extra minutes?

So many thoughts flying through your mind. How are you going to tell him? Oh hey, by the way, ya knocked me up so what’s the plan bud?!

“I'm doomed" You mutter to yourself getting out of your vehicle to go face reality, to go face the man of your now growing child. This has to be a nightmare.

Getting off of the elevator, the first person you saw was Alvez- boy, you were thankful that it wasn't Spencer, even though you'd be seeing him in just a few minutes.

"Looks like you saw a ghost"

"Yeah, Luke, something like that"

"You want to talk about it?"

"Not right now, I just want to forget about it- I need to see Pen" yeah, Y/N, like you'll actually be able to forget about it.

You make a beeline directly for Penelope's office, you have to tell someone about this before you actually lose your mind.

"Pen, I have news and it has to stay between you and I only"

"Your secret is safe with me, my love"

"I'm pregnant.. with Spencer's baby" you hesitated even saying the last part but wow, that felt good to get off of your chest, too bad it won't feel this easy with Spencer. Just thinking of having to tell him has you feeling like someone is choking you out.

"Oh."

"Oh? Pen, I am in a state of panic, a state of shock and you say 'Oh'- I don't know what to even begin to do here or how to even tell Reid that I am carrying his.. spawn"

"Spencer has a girlfriend or did, as far as I kn- okay, when did you find out” She cuts herself after seeing the look of horror on your face after hearing the beginning of her sentence, understandably so!

You were NOT the type of person to sleep with a taken man.

You were confident that you were about to face plant the ground right here and now in Penelope’s office. Did Spencer have a girlfriend or not? And were you about to go physically fight him for doing this to her, if so? You would be considering yourself jobless at that point.

“I found out this morning, literal minutes before you called me to get my ass here” you were in a pure state of panic and you had many good reasons as to why.

“How long has he had a girlfriend, Pen?” you continued- you were sure your skin was blistering with how hot it was at this point. Was it hot out of anger or the panic attack that was charging at you? Who knows anymore because you didn’t care enough in this single second to sit and determine that.

"I don't know, he just mentioned a date a few weeks ago then didn't mention anything again but I know he's still in communication with her and by the contact name in his phone, I don't think they are just friends" Penelope lets you in on all of this, nervously- like she isn't supposed to be saying anything at all.

"Thanks, Pen" You murmur to her her as you leave, you have to leave her office, the longer you are in there, the more it feels like the walls are literally closing in on you.

Walking into the hallway, you don't know which direction to go- You should probably go see Spencer and give him some bullshit excuse as to why you were late.

It was barely 8 A.M, maybe it was past 8 A.M now- your mind is going too fast to try and keep up with time. Regardless, it's too early in the morning to drop a pregnancy announcement on someone.

Finally, you muster up the courage to walk into the bullpen to go on the hunt for Spencer, as much as your mind and body are telling you to just bolt to your car and never look back.

"Tara, do you know where Spencer is?" You ask quietly, so that you don't disturb the others around you

"No, I saw him walk out of his office a few minutes ago but I haven't seen him go back in. If you find him before me, let me know because I need to go over some things with him"

"I'll go knock and see if he's back, thanks Tara"

You can visibly see his blinds are closed but majority of the time they are closed anyways, so that doesn't even matter to you. Walking up the flight of stairs to get to his office is exhausting, it feels like your legs weigh 1000 pounds each.

Standing in front of his office, you hear talking inside- You can very clearly hear a females voice inside talking to him but you honestly couldn't tell if she was over the phone or actually in his office by how muffled it is, it's safe to assume that it is a phone call.

"No going back now since you're already here" You mumble to yourself

Knock, knock, knock

"Come in" You hear a muffled Spencer behind the door

As your opening the door, you quickly hear him state to the woman on the phone 'I have to go, I'll see you tonight' - God, as if you haven't already wanted to run away all morning, it keeps getting worse.

"Pen said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, please sit" He says, gesturing to the chair

"Are you okay, Y/N? - You were late this morning, we've worked together for many years now and you've never once ran late, it's not like you not to communicate" You can see on his face that he cares, he didn't bring you in here to give you a lecture over something small, especially since this is your first time ever running late.

"Y-yes, I just woke up late and then getting to my car, I realized I had a flat, so I had to ask my neighbor to use his pump to fill it" You lied straight through your pearly white teeth and you were confident that he knew it to, just by the look he was giving you

He stares at you for a moment, trying to read you for anything. You were thankful for the fact that sometimes you were an impossible person to read

"Please, just communicate next time- It's not a big deal you were late, we just didn't know what was going on until I had Garcia get a hold of you"

"I will, you have my word- Am I good to go now?" You ask while standing up, yes, the talk went better than expected but you still wanted out of this office as fast as possible.

"Yes, thank you for coming to talk to me. Oh, also before I forget to mention it, at some point today whenever we both have free time, I would like to have a conversation. If it's just at the end of the day that's fine. It just needs to happen"

All you can bring yourself to do is nod your head and walk out of the room, based on the ass end of the phone call you walked in on- You have a pretty good hunch what he will be saying to you, especially after what Garcia also let you in on

It makes your heart ache- knowing that he could have a girlfriend, knowing this thing that the two of you had will be coming to an end, by no means were you and Spencer in a committed relationship but you would be lying to yourself, if you said you hadn't gained feelings for him and actually wanted more than just a 'fuck buddy' outcome

"So, is he up in the office? I really need to see him" Tara asks while already walking up there and away from you before you can even give her an answer.

You know for a fact that you are not going to be able to focus on work at all today even if you try your hardest, your anxiety is skyrocketing through the roof waiting for this conversation with Spencer and still, wondering when and how you are going to spill the beans about carrying his growing child.

"Alright, what is your issue? Are you pregnant?" Alvez is like a brother to you, nothing has been off limits in the talking department but this just sent you for a whole loop with how bluntly he asked.

You were confident that if it were possible, your eyes would've popped right out of their sockets and into your lap.

"Alvez, I am not discussing this with you right now" you whisper yelled to him, you didn't mean to come off like a bitch at all but god only knows who could've heard him.

"Well, Y/N, If I am being entirely honest. Penelope lets some things slip from time to time" He states like it's the most obvious thing ever.

All you can seem to do is look at him like a dear in the headlights, you feel your skin getting hot and prickly, it feels like there are someones hands around your throat squeezing harder and harder by the second.

"I have to go, I need to go home, I need air" It all comes out in a panic, you get up from your desk and bolt out of the bullpen and down the stairs, you don't even care to take the elevator. You cannot be stuck in a tight spot right now, a tight spot like an elevator.

"Please, just communicate" - "I will, you have my word" the conversation in Spencer's office goes through your mind and you know that you have to communicate with him that you just left work for the day and you don't plan to come back today, atleast- you couldn't and thankfully, it was Friday.

to: Spencer 'The Genius' Reid

'I have to excuse myself for the day, I'm sorry that I am having to send you a text message about this rather than coming to your office- this is me communicating with you. I will return back to my work duties on Monday, unless of course, a case pops up over the weekend then I will be here'

'also, I know we need to have a conversation, I also have something I need to tell you- let me know when you would like this conversation to take place' -

After sending your texts to Spencer, you set your phone on DND because at this point, you don't want to deal with anything or anyone else today, emergency or not.

Driving home was an entire blur, I mean you made it home alive, so that's what matters, I guess.

Walking inside, you plop onto the couch and turn on your favorite comfort show.. Modern Family.

A few hours later, you wake up in the exact place you laid down at- you thought your couch was so comfy until now when your entire body is in pain.. well, maybe it was your horrible sleeping position.

5:13 P.M -

"sweet baby jesus on a motorbike" You mutter to yourself after looking at the clock

"what are you doing to me?" You ask while poking your non-existent baby bump, granted it was a great sleep so you weren't trying to complain- you had heard from JJ in the past that early pregnancy is exhausting and you will sleep.. ALOT.

**BACK AT THE BAU**

"I just practically asked her if it was true but maybe in a more blunt way, it wasn't meant to come out so.. blunt" Alvez explains to Penelope who apparently watched you sprint out of work.

"I specifically told you not to say anything to her about it, I didn't even mean to let it slip to you of all people, Luke. I don't even think that they were in a relationship which makes this so much more difficult for her, as I could imagine" Pen snaps back at Luke.

"It's not going past me, I'm not opening my mouth to anyone about it" Luke says while walking to the Elevator with Pen, finally the work day was over

"Yeah, you let it slip to someone or who knows, I accidentally do again and Spencer is going to find out which right now, that doesn't need to happen" Pen states while being wildly unaware of who just came up behind them

"What doesn't Spencer need to find out right now and why can't he find out right now?" He asks from directly behind Alvez and Garcia, looking between the two of them for a answer.

Luke and Penelope both seem to jump straight out of their skin, not expecting to be crept up on- in reality, it was not Spencer's plan to creep up on them, he just happened to be leaving at the exact time as them and they didn't hear him coming up in the middle of their 'supposed to be' private conversation that was happening out in the open.

"I- uh it's nothing, well, sir, it's nothing in regards to me, i'm fine- it's not my place to tell you, it wasn't my place to tell, Luke- it just slipped and I am blabbering and I just realized that I need to get home" Before Spencer or Luke could say anything to her or anything more to Spencer, she's in the elevator with the doors closing.

'Nice Penelope, real nice' Luke thinks to himself, feeling a bit annoyed and slightly scared

Turning to look behind him, he sees Spencer's eyes boring right into him like he's staring right into Luke's soul, just waiting and searching for answers.

"Is there anything that you know, Alvez?" Spencer finally breaks the silence, otherwise who knows how long the two of them would've stayed standing there in the awkward paralyzing silence.

"I just know Y/N had to leave early today because, well I don't know why but I just know she left- you're her boss too, she should've communicated with you, right?"

"Right, Luke and she did, I have been trying to text and call her since I received her messages and nothing is going through" Reid is quick to bite back, getting quite annoyed himself being left in the dark and now that he is adding the pieces together, he's assuming these secretive things that "he isn't allowed to know about currently" are about you.

"I don't have any other information, what I told you is all I know- but I do need to get home to Roxy" Luke matter-of-factly states even though Luke knows that Luke is lying, well- not about Roxy but about the first part.

"Mhm, alright. Have a good night, Luke" Spencer gave up on trying to get any information out of the turnips that don't bleed but he is confident when he says this is about you and he will get to the bottom of it.

Back at your apartment, you've finally relaxed after a nice hot shower and ordering from your favorite chinese food joint and yes, still watching your comfort show but this time from the comfort of your own bed.

You still haven't even taken your phone off of DND mode, in your mind all you thought was 'if it is important enough, you know where I live and if you don't, contact Penelope Garcia' and the most important part, you were at peace.

You weren't worried about this pregnancy, you had accepted your fate, you weren't worried about Spencer or his new situ-relationship, you weren't even worried about what had happened with Alvez or Garcia. Peace.

"jesus Spencer, what the fuck" You yell out after walking out of the room and coming face to face with him, to say that you were startled was to say the absolute least

"Well, you would've known I was coming if someone didn't have their phone on airplane mode" He bit back with a darkness in his eyes and maybe a bit of worrisome, you couldn't tell everything with how dark it was.

"I know that I gave people a key to my house for emergencies but our conversation or how I was protecting my peace on a Friday night is not an emergency and frankly, if anyone was that worried, you would've sent someone sooner" You were once again fed up and wanted to continue to be alone with your favorite person, Phil Dunphy.

"I was going to drop our conversation until this weekend or even Monday, when we see each other in person again but funny enough, I was walking out to leave for the day when I walked into Luke's and Penelope's conversation and it was about you and something that I shouldn't be finding out about right now- would you happen to know anything about that?" Spencer replied, getting more and more fed up by the second.

If Spencer didn't know any better, he would say that you looked like you just saw a ghost- he was dead on the money about the conversation and some secret rooting back to you- now to just get it out of you.

Calming down after seeing the state you were rushing into, he comes to you with a softer approach - "Y/N, I want to help you. We've known each other for years, since I started working for the BAU, please let me know. Let me know what is going on. I'm not going anywhere"

You felt like you were about to up-chuck your chinese food all over this poor man, you know you need to tell him.

'Y/N you will never know the outcome of this unless you open your mouth and spill those words to him, be brave, be bold' You think silently to yourself.

"Spencer, I'm pregnant - You are the last person I slept with. I am pregnant with your baby"

if this is horrible, sue me - i haven't written in forever and honestly, this is a little bit longer than i thought it would be - whoops!

FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED

& yeah, yeah- i left this on a cliffhanger, if you beautiful humans actually like this, i had planned to make this a 2 parter story or who knows, if i make the next part longer then it could be 3 or more parts.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Night terrors

Anya x Reader

Can be read as platonic because we all want to take care of her like we wish someone would for us

AN: As a victim of sexual assault I feel it is important to have a realistic fluff story about the aftermath of it. How it affects the person after it’s been done and how the trauma lingers. How it’s so very important for the person to have a support network. YOU will be her support network. Thank you

Also not to get political but god women in the USA are experiencing a massive increase of assaults so call this projection, or call this training for the inevitable

SUM: Despite surviving that Tulpar adventure, despite all the good karma thrown back at you all, there are just too many many scars to truly recover from

Warnings: Past sexual assault, nightmares, PTSD, whump, abortion, paranoia, it’s gonna be a stressful read, there will be fluff don’t worry, paranoia, inspired/based on my own experiences

“STOP-!”

Anya was screaming in her sleep again.

Woke you up pretty quickly, as you were sharing a bed with her. She was rather scared to sleep alone. Afraid that someone will just break in and take advantage of her. That somehow Jimmy, who long since was dead, will break in again.

“Anya-! Anya wake up! It’s me! Anya-!” You would shake her and try to get her to wake up. To get her out of that terrifying cloud of memories. Her poor face was pale and full of sweat, and she was scared awake by you shaking her. For a fleeting moment she thought it was Jimmy.

As she gave another cry, you reached over and turned on the bedside tables lamp.

She saw your face, and finally took a breathe.

You two weren’t on the Tulpar anymore. Jimmy wasn’t going to hurt either of you ever again. Swansea was home with his wife. Daisuke was home with his mother and father. And she was here with you.

She was alive.

“I….Im sorry-“ Anya sniffled, as you just pulled her into your arms. Gentle with combing your fingers through her hair. Just gentle reminders to not be sorry. To not be sorry for being justified with her fear.

“He won’t ever get you again. I promise.” You would remind her, but she would still tremble.

“Can we check the locks again?” She would ask you, and you would nod. Often times this was the case. No matter how many times she would ask you that question you never got annoyed. It’s good to check the locks anyway. Gotta stay safe after all.

You would both climb out of bed, put on your robes, and go walking around the home. One of your hands was left to be held by Anya’s, as the other would be used to check the locks on everything. From the multiple at front door, from each window, to that of the back door. Each one checked, as Anya would hug at you close.

Was a very nice home, you had to admit. After having rescue finally called, and being saved, the media went nuts. Especially on the fact Curly was still alive. Gave Anya the much needed support to show she was very worthy of a position as a proper doctor. That also meant she got herself quite the hefty salary. Also helps that she now had partial royalties to the book she helped write about the adventure on the ship.

“Every lock is secure.” You explained, as she gave still an anxious look.

“Let’s check each room, and closet. Yeah?” That made her quickly nod.

Now you two were roaming the entire house now. Checking under furniture, in closets, all the nine yards. No stone was left un-turned. You would do it a million times for her. She deserved to have some kind of relief from it all.

“There we go. No Jimmy.” You would give her a hug, and she hugged you back. Still shaken, but at least she was breathing more steady.

The two of you would return to the bedroom, where she did her routine. Checking under her pillow for her sheathed knife, the bedside for her baseball bat, the drawer for her gun, and to take an extra pill to help with the anxiety burst she was having. Her routine.

She would try and lay down, only to dart her head towards the bedroom door. Eyes wide with raw and pure fear.

“I swear I heard him at the door. I swear I did. He said my name he said my name-“ She whimpered, as you would get up. You opened the door, looked around the hallway, and returned.

“Don’t worry Anya. I didn’t hear a single thing.” You reassured, as you would lock the bedroom door for her. Along with putting a chair under the door handle. Even went as far as to double check the bedroom windows, and closed the curtains.

“I’m so sorry-“ She would begin again, as her eyes watered. She felt like such a burden. To have all this fear and paranoia. To the point she couldn’t feel safe when left alone. You couldn’t blame her though. The wounds were still so horribly fresh. Not to mention sometimes PTSD can kick in so many years later. You’ll take the morbid comfort in having it kick in now where you all can handle it now and prepare for the future than suddenly out of nowhere in God knows how long.

It is what it is.

She wasn’t the only one traumatized after all, and she shouldn’t need to apologize for justified fear.

You would pull her back into your arms, and you both laid down. You would turn on the white noise machine for her, to help block the paranoid sounds of voices and scratches from the doors, and would just talk with her. Talk until her medication kicked in to help her sleep.

Didn’t matter what it was. It was just noise to keep her mind distracted.

You wondered how the rest of the crew was doing. How they were dealing with it.

They all had family, so maybe they were doing well. Really should meet up again soon. Can’t be blamed life is so busy.

Curly was back living with his parents and siblings, which they welcomed with open arms. Even his friends before the crew were willing to all share a space to help.

Swansea had his wife and even his kids. Sure he says he’s too old to be traumatized but he keeps checking on his kids way more often now. That’s for sure.

God knows when poor Daisuke’s PTSD will kick in. He may be acting fine now but it’s gonna be a ticking time bomb. It’ll come at him sooner or later. For now his parents were feeling like monsters for pressuring him into that intern ship. He never blamed them, of course. He is even still working under a mentorship with Swansea even. Guess not everything was negative.

Then there was you and Anya. She was the most traumatized of all. There was even the trauma of an abortion. There’s still so many emotions with that as well, but you held her hand through it. Even as far as to move in with her to help. You two had always been very close. Even before joining the crew. You two were always tagged together. Even nicked named her assistant to a point.

You’ll stick with her through the ends of the earth.

“Wanna go visit Curly in the morning? It’ll be Saturday. Maybe we can even invite Swansea and Daisuke.” You offered. Just something positive to look forward to. Something worth waiting for.

“That would be nice.” She muttered, as her own paranoias exhaustion was kicking in. Too tired to even be afraid. Often times how it ends. She gets herself so worked up it ends up being the very same thing that makes her fall back asleep.

“Yeah. We can check out his new prosthetics. Daisuke said he even bought stickers specifically for them.” That had Anya smile. That sweet smile that was hard to come by right now. One that was filled with comfort. Comfort of such an innocent and sweet thought.

“Swansea says he’s also going to attach his own upgrades to it. Not sure how that will work, or what the hell he’s planning, but not gonna lie I need to see if he gives him rocket boosters.”

That got a little laugh from her. The both of you imagining poor Captain Curly flying around in the sky, as Daisuke runs around with some trampoline to try and catch him on.

Just something silly to cut through it all.

Seemed to work, as you could feel her breathing easier now. Her breath not so intense. Was far more steady, and you could tell she fell back asleep. You were thankful for it. Not because she was annoying you. No. Never. But because she needed her rest. She deserves it. She already is working long hours at the hospital, which you bet is because she is trying to avoid being isolated and alone at all cost maybe even reduce sleeping to, so she needed proper sleep more than ever.

And you’ll do your best for her. To help her with it all. You were her little assistant. You’ll do what an assistant does best. Make sure your boss is able to tackle projects easier.

And this project was healing. A project that won’t ever end, will have ups and downs, and be taxing. Over time out the ass and no vacations.

And you know what you say to that?

Bring it.

Thank you so much for reading. This was a more vulnerable piece because Anya really reminded me so much of myself. How I’m suppose to take care of everyone else, while my traumatic abuse is just swept under the rug.

Since you read all the way to the end, maybe take a look at this

National Sexual Assault Hotline:

1-800-656-4673

National Domestic Violence Hotline:

800-799-7233

RAINN (Rape Abuse Incest National Network)

1-800-656-4673

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

1-800-273-8255

You deserve love and support. What happened wasn’t your fault in the slightest. Not even for a single second. You deserve happiness, hope, and to live a long and healthy life. Everything will be ok again. Doesn’t seem like it now, but it will. I promise

[lilislegacy]

Hello everyone! I just want to say one thing real quick. If you are disappointed by Wrath of the Triple Goddess, you are allowed to feel that way and you are allowed to speak out about it. And if you want there to be a chance at change in the future, I advise trying to tell Rick in some way. As other people have said, the nice thing about Rick is that if we tell him about something we don’t like, he often fixes it. But first we actually have to tell him. It doesn’t mean you are entitled or think he works for you, but he writes the books for your enjoyment, right? So why wouldn’t he want to hear your honest feedback? Personally, if I was writing a book and 70% of my fans hated some things I was doing, I would want to know. We want him to be successful! And it doesn’t have to be all negative! You can go tell him what you like, too! But all I will say is that right now, WOTTG has nothing but shining reviews from super loyal fans. 4.4/5 stars on average. Which tells Rick one thing: keep doing exactly what you’re doing. But if we want him to understand that we don’t like certain things, like how Annabeth suddenly treats Percy like an idiot, or how Percy now constantly degrades himself and acts incompetent, a hell of a lot of people need to tell him.

Unfortunately (and completely understandably), Rick has made himself virtually unreachable by fans. He doesn’t run his own social media, he doesn’t accept fan mail or emails, and he doesn’t have a place for us to contact him.

So that only leaves 2 easy, accessible options that I can think of:

1. Leave a rating and review on Goodreads. If you would like to, go to goodreads (and any other review sites that you want), take 2 minutes to make an account, and give your thoughts. Be RESPECTFUL and civil. If you are rude and disrespectful, it helps no one. The only way to actually get his attention is to lower the rating, so, if you really want to reach him, give it 1-2 stars. Then leave a review giving your feedback, both the positive and the negative!

2. Make a tik tok. This fanbase is so loyal to Rick that I think everyone is scared to speak up. But if you make some kind of tik tok, even if it’s just showing quotes and captioning it “Separate the books and TV show” or “Stop writing Annabeth thinking Percy is dumb” or something like that, that still works. Or you can do a full sit-down review lol. Up to you. The thing about tik tok is that if one blows up, it will at least get back to someone close to Rick. And again, BE RESPECTFUL!!!!

I am sure there are more complicated ways, like emailing specific people who can reach Rick, but the ways I listed seem more realistic to me. If anyone has other ideas, please share! (AND DO NOT TRY AND REACH OUT TO THE ACTORS!! KEEP THOSE KIDS OUT OF IT!)

I am not forcing or guilting anyone into doing any of this. I’m not trying to rally troops against Rick. I’m just reminding everyone that if you don’t want to, you don’t have to suffer in silence. If you would like to give Rick your feedback in a respectful way, there are ways to do it. I’d rather he know now and be able to change things for the next book than us all stay silent and everyone despise the next one even more. Which could lead to the downfall of the whole series. And I really don’t want that.

Everyone can do what they want. If you want to go leave a big review for Rick to read, do it. If you want to make a tik tok, do it. If you just want to post about it on here, do it. If you don’t want to do any of that, don’t do any of it! No shame no matter what.

Have a wonderful day, everyone ❤️

[frankenkyle19]

-The No Longer Virgin-

Kinktober Day 5: Virgin!Peter Maximoff x reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings/description: loss of virginity, handjobs, blowjobs, premature ejaculation, 69’ing, oral male and fem receiving, whiny Peter, slight sub!Peter, awkward Peter, cute consent, probably ooc Peter, sorry. 

posting two days early because I finished it and why not?

Peter totally wasn’t insecure about anything ever. Him? Pfft, no. He was the most confident, not insecure person who ever lived. So what if he was a virgin? So what if he hadn’t actually ever gone all the way? Or gotten a blowjob.. or a handjob… or even any over the clothes touching…

That was besides the point! It didn’t matter- not like he actually cared. It wasn’t for his lack of trying. He was always down to clown it just… He hadn’t found the right person. Apparently being a mutant speedster wasn’t a turn on for most people. Who would have thought? 

Oh well. He’d lived his life this long without it, who’s going to say he couldn’t live the rest of his life being perfectly content with his hand or his stupid fleshlight? He’d live it’s not like- 

But oh when he saw you for the first time he lost his damn mind. Why were you so pretty? Why did you talk to him? Show him any sort of attention? Peter wasn’t used to it, and it immediately made his brain short circuit. He wasn’t the brightest in the bunch, but he knew you had to at least like him a little to want to hang around him.

 But why? Peter still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that you actually wanted to hang out with him. Was it some form of pity? Did you feel bad for him? God he hoped not…

You two became fast friends, but Peter couldn’t help but want more. Not in a creepy way, just like a hey I’m in my 20’s and still a virgin and now that a girl is showing me attention my body is reacting like a teenage boy going through puberty-

God he needed to get a grip on himself. Get it together Peter! Keep it in your pants for Christ's sake. 

And of course what he didn’t know was that you loved teasing the hell out of him. Seeing his cheeks heat up and the way he stumbled over his words. It was priceless.

The first night you kissed Peter, he was positive he’d died and went to heaven, or was in some super realistic dream. There was just no way this was real. Why would you want to kiss him? Him of all people. 

But boy did he kiss back. His lips molded against yours perfectly as you draped your arms over his neck, humming against his soft lips, eyes closed as you attempted to deepen it.

Peter was loving it. He was convinced he could stay like this forever. Well that was until you attempted to climb into his lap and he freaked out and zoomed off in a blur of silver.

He finally had someone who wanted to mess around with him and now he was too shy? What was wrong with him! 

It’s not that he didn’t want to- he was just incredibly nervous. Like heart beating out of his chest, stomach churning nervous. What if he did something wrong? As far as he knew you didn’t know he was a virgin, but if he kept up this act you’d find out in no time. How embarrassing…

But still, every time you tried to initiate anything other than kissing, Peter either made an excuse or just straight up ran off. It was embarrassing but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you why he acted the way he did. What would you say? What would you think?

Even once you two officially started dating, he was super shy and jumpy. He didn’t even really like to sleep in the same bed with you. Cuddling? He was fine with, but there was something so intimate about sleeping in a bed with your partner that he just wasn’t ready for.

He never really thought he had problems showing or giving affection, but the longer he was with you the more he realized he was terrified of all of it. 

You were so patient with him, which made him feel even worse. He saw how desperate you were to be with him but poor Peter couldn’t bring himself to actually do it.

He wanted to. He jerked off every night to the thought of you, of your pretty face and how you looked at him during your makeup sessions. It had him cumming in surely a world record speed. 

Peter researched why he felt this way. Why couldn't he just be with you the way he wanted. Like dude, the image of the two of you naked and sweaty, rocking against each other? It really got him going, but the reality of it seemed too much for his poor brain to be able to process.

He came to the conclusion that he was scared of intimacy. Or maybe he was just nervous to have his first time. Some odd combination of the both. He had to get over it, right? He couldn’t stay a virgin for the rest of his life. Especially when he had a smoking hot girlfriend right in front of him. 

He had to find a way to get over it… He was determined now.

Finally, you two had been dating steadily for three months now. Three whole months with no under the clothes touching. Or over the clothes touching either if we’re being honest.

You had kind of clued in now that Peter was nervous about being with you in such an intimate way. You never pushed him. When he was ready, if he ever was, he would let you know.

So that’s why you were a bit surprised when during one of your frequent makeout sessions, when Peter began to harden in his sweatpants, he didn’t pull away. You noticed how his breath sped up, but instead of running off, he stayed put.

Your hands fell to his thighs gently, testing the waters as Peter pulled away from your lips to catch his breath. He whined quietly, barely able to be heard as his hips subtly arched into the feeling of your warm hands.

Before you went any further though, no matter how much he seemed to want it, you decided to ask him how he was feeling in the moment. 

“Peter? Hey, if you want to I’d love to, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to. If you aren’t ready, that's okay too.” You said quietly, reaching up to cup his cheek.

His skin was warm and red under your touch as he nuzzled the side of his face into your palm, sighing softly as he closed his eyes.

“I uh- I do. I’m ready, I want to.” He said quietly, not meeting your eyes.

“I’m sure by now you’ve realized I’m a virgin.” He mumbled, blushing impossibly darker as he huffed quietly, his chest rising and falling under his t-shirt. 

“Peter, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s okay.” You hummed, pulling your boy closer in an attempt to give him some sort of comfort. You could see how he was fighting himself in his mind, wrestling between the choice to do this, or to run away. Again. He was tired of running away.

“I just- I don’t want to do a bad job- I really want to make you feel good. And I’ve watched porn and shit like that but it- it’s not the same and I really don’t have any clue what to do.” He whispered, the saddest most desperate look on his poor face.

“We can go slow and I can help you. Anytime you have a question you ask, okay? I will never ever judge you. And if you want to stop, that’s okay too. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

Your words were exactly what he’d needed to hear these past few months when he was too afraid to even talk to you about any of this. He was finally ready. You’d need to walk him through it but he was ready.

“Okay, I want to. Please- need it.” He whined softly, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he weakly bucked his hips forward in search of friction of any kind.

Slowly but surely you let your hand fall to his crotch, rubbing over the bulge in his pants gently, trying to coax out more of those beautiful noises from his throat.

Peter tensed for a half a second before he shuddered, leaning further into you as he whined. 

“F-fuck-“ he choked out, bucking his hips up, causing your hand to slide farther against his covered length. 

“Feels good-“ he mumbled weakly, body tingling with pleasure as he tried to keep himself composed to the best of his ability. 

“More please-“ He grunted, already so worked up and you found it so adorable. He was in for the time of his life.

You pawed at his length with a bit more pressure and you saw the way that his hands clenched at his sides. He wanted to touch you, but was nervous to make a move.

You moved your hand from his crotch and took both his hands in your own before placing them on your breasts.

Peter’s eyes widened to a near impossible size and you were worried they might actually pop out of his head at this point.

Damn. You had bomb titties. Like ooh mama they were amazing.

He swallowed hard, trying to get rid of his excess saliva before he started drooling or something-

He squeezed your breasts in each of his hands, reveling in the warm, squishiness of them. He could stay like this for the rest of his life. He was sure of it.

You let him explore your body for as long as he wanted, touching every part of you he could reach in a curious exploration of something he’d so badly wanted to do for so many years. 

This was it… He was going to lose his virginity tonight. And he couldn’t wait.

Your hand came down to gently massage his length once more before finding the elastic of his sweatpants, dipping your fingers under it so slowly.

Peter was too enamored with your breasts to realize what you were doing at first. He panicked a bit when he finally realized, worried that maybe he wasn’t big enough- did his dick look weird? When was the last time he actually inspected himself? So many worrying thoughts flooded through your mind but the second your hand crept under his pants and past the waistband of his boxers to finally touch his cock without any restrictions?… He was on cloud nine.

He’d never felt something like this. Sure he had his own hand to compare it to, but yours was so soft, so warm and so so much better than his own. 

It took everything in him not to nut the second you touched him. It really did. He was so desperate. His cock twitched in your touch as you did your best to stroke him inside his boxers, thumbing over the tip to collect the pre-cum there. You couldn’t see it, but he felt like he had a nice cock. A big, bulbous tip, a nice, decently long shaft, and thick veins that ran across it. 

Your mouth watered a bit at the thought of tasting him, and you were just about to. But much to Peter’s embarrassment, a few more strokes had him cumming hard over your hand, making a mess of his boxers.

He froze, body tensing as he bit down on your shoulder to muffle the noises that fell from his mouth. Holy shit… How embarrassing. You barely touched him and he came. 

You gasped softly in surprise, not expecting it so quickly, but his name was quicksilver after all. Maybe for more reasons than one?  Speaking of quicksilver, he was hard again almost instantly. Thank whatever gods there were that he recovered as quickly as he did. So at least he was ready for round two in the blink of an eye. His cock twitched with interest once more as you removed your hand from his pants, looking at the white creamy fluid that covered your fingers. 

“What do you want to do now?” You asked him, watching the adorable fucked out expression on his face. He sat up a bit taller and cleared his throat, recovering from his sudden orgasm. 

“I uh- I’ve always wanted to uh- sixty-nine? But I haven’t Uh- you’d have to tell me what to do to make you feel good. Like I obviously know about the clit- pshhh, duh, but like I want to make sure I’m doing it right.” He mumbled, shifting uncomfortably as the cum covered the front of his boxers.

You slowly peeled your shirt off your body, Peter gawking at you the whole time.

You gestured to his clothes and in a second, with a soft ‘fwip’ he was naked in front of you. Well damn… 

He blushed softly, looking at you for any signs of disappointment, which you certainly didn’t show. 

His cock was just as hot as you expected it to be. It curved slightly to the left, and was… Well, probably the prettiest cock you’d ever had the pleasure of viewing.

It wasn’t too thick, but was long, and god you couldn’t wait to feel it inside of you. Patience.. That would come later.

“Pretty.” You whispered, which sent shivers up Peter’s spine. Pretty? What? You- Jesus he could barely think.

You unclasped your bra and in a split second he was on you again, his large palms cupping your breasts as he kneaded them gently.

He looked at you curiously before he let his lips ghost over your hard nipples before taking one of them into his mouth, sucking gently.

His mouth felt delicious against your breasts and you arched your chest into the feeling, hands gently grabbing his silver hair.

He spent several minutes exploring your breasts before he pawed at your jeans, trying to urge you to take them off. 

You did just as he wanted, unbuttoning and sliding them down your legs, leaving you in just your little panties.

And lord, Peter almost came again. The sight of you nearly completely naked made his cock ache. He needed something. Now. 

He grabbed for you, getting you into a lying position as you kicked off your underwear, letting it fall somewhere as he manhandled you into the perfect position. You were facing his length as he faced your core, both of you in a lying position. Peter nearly drooled at the proximity to your dripping cunt, wanting nothing more than to lean forward and taste.

“Go ahead baby.” You said gently as you took his cock in hand once more, stroking it firmly as you spit onto the tip. 

Peter almost forgot all about tasting you the second your hand was in contact with his cock, but luckily he hadn’t.

He scooted forward a bit, letting his tongue press against your core, barely breaching your folds. He swallowed hard, your slick covering his tongue in an intoxicating flavor that he could find himself easily getting addicted to.

He parted your folds with his tongue, delving inside as if he’d done this hundreds of times before. His nose brushed against your clit as he licked and sucked to his heart's content, mouthing at your core with a desperation you’d never experienced. 

You pressed your lips to the tip of his throbbing cock and his breath stuttered against you, lips wobbling.

His eyes were closed and his hands rested on your thighs as he tried to get his tongue as deep inside you as humanly possible. 

He was losing his ever loving mind. The mixture of you on his tongue and the way you licked so gently against the tip of his cock had him seeing stars.

He pulled away for a moment to breathe and watch as you kitten licked his cock.

He whimpered softly, bucking his hips against your lips, causing his cockhead to slide across your cheek, smearing his pre-cum against your skin.

“S-sorry-“ he mumbled, biting down on his bottom lip as you finally took his tip into your mouth, suckling on it like it was some kind of damned popsicle. The vacuum your mouth created against him had him crying out, thighs quivering as he teared up from the pleasure.

Your tongue gently traced the slit in his head and it had Peter crying out in sensitivity, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you to stop or even be gentle, because he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the slight pain it brought along with the overwhelming pleasure. 

“Fuck fuck fuck- ooooh god baby oh sHit-“ he decided to shut himself up by burying his face back in your pussy, eating you out like his life depended on it.

You had to say, for his first time, he wasn't bad. Not at all. In fact he was actually decent. He found your clit nearly instantly and suckled it into his mouth, being as gentle as could be while still pleasuring you.

You bobbed your head over his length, coating him in your saliva as he weakly bucked his hips forward, causing you to gag slightly.

Peter still couldn’t believe this was happening, part of him thinking this was some wet dream that his mind had dreamt up to torture him with. 

But nope. It was real. So real. Too real if you asked him. 

And soon enough he was close for the second time that night, body shaking with pleasure as you suckled on his cock. Dear lord, he couldn’t take it anymore, it was too much.

“Y-you gotta stop- I’m gonna- oooooh I’m gonna bust baby-“ he begged, hips desperately flexing as he shuddered.

You just continued your assault on his poor cock, milking him for everything he had, and he came once again, costing your mouth in his salty release.

He threw his head back and gasped, unable to catch his breath for several seconds. He thought he was going to die, but by some sort of luck, he survived. He was alive and well. So much better than well in fact.

He shivered as you popped off of his length, wiping your mouth as you swallowed his release and god damn, that was so hot to him.

He sat up shakily, breathing heavily as he blinked slowly, bliss overcoming him as he tried to calm himself down. 

Twice. You’d brought him to release twice already and he still wanted more.

There was just one last thing to do, and Peter was a little nervous, but ready.

He wanted to fuck you.

He sat up, glancing around your room curiously. The last thing he wanted was for the two of you to have to stop because you didn’t have protection. As much as Peter knew he could probably pull out before he came, he in no way wanted to risk it. Not a chance.

“You don’t got a Uh- a condom do ya?” He asked, chuckling softly as he fidgeted with his hands.

“You think I don’t? I’ve been waiting months for this Peter-“ you said, reaching over into your bedside drawer and pulling out a little foil packet, tossing it to Peter. He tore it open and carefully slid it on his length. It felt weird, tight but not bad. Just a new feeling, just like everything else that he’d experienced today.

You laid back on the bed, your breasts bouncing so perfectly as Peter stared for a bit too long, losing his train of thought as he so often did.  

You cleared your throat, snapping Peter out of his trance like state staring at your bomb as hell titties. Okay maybe he shouldn’t say it like that- your magnificent breasts. Was that better? No.. no it definitely was not.

The way you laid on your back, wiggling your hips upwards made Peter lightheaded and he found himself crawling towards you without a thought, pulling you into a kiss, his cock nudging at your entrance. His body was shaking a bit and he wasn’t sure if it was from excitement or nervousness. Maybe both? Yeah.. yeah probably both. Because holy shit, he was really about to do this? After today he’d no longer be a lame twenty something year old virgin! Yay! That had to call for a celebration of sorts.

He took his cock in hand, giving it a few firm strokes before placing it back at your entrance, giving a gentle push as you cunt sucked him in. Your wetness mixed with his saliva made the best lube as he slid right in with very little resistance.

A heavy gasp fell from your lips as with his first thrust inside, you felt as if the air had been knocked right from your lungs. He was hitting your cervix with ease, a bit of pain coming from just how far inside he was.

You gripped onto his shoulders as he began to thrust back and forth slowly, the feeling quite literally too much. You were so warm, so fucking tight and the way his cock slid in and out of you was a real sight to behold. 

He gripped the sheets by your head to steady himself. The last thing he wanted was to collapse and crush you or something embarrassing like that. That’d almost definitely ruin the mood.

Except you were sure he could do just about anything right now and it wouldn’t ruin the moment. He was so far inside you you swore you could feel him in your stomach. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them around Peters waist, pulling him closer as you cried out with each of his perfect thrusts.

Your moans were music to his ears and he swore he could record it and listen to it on repeat every second of the day. You shouldn’t even be allowed to make noises like that, considering the effect it had on poor Peter.

“Fuuuuuuck you’re so warm- my god-“ He groaned out as he thrust into you, his pace getting progressively faster and a bit rougher. You were definitely going to be sore later, but it would all be worth it.

You smiled softly and scratched at his shoulders gently with your nails, dragging a moan from his throat as his hips stuttered.

He’d find a pace and then stutter every few thrusts, humping into you with the desperation of an animal in heat.

He couldn’t believe he’d been missing out on this all these years. Sure people had told him sex felt good but this was more than just good. This was heaven.

“Mmm, so good for me Peter, r-rub. Rub my clit-“ you whined out, pressure building in your core with each thrust, his groin bumped against you, tingles of pleasure spiking through you.

Peter did exactly as you asked, one of his hands coming down to rub against your clit when suddenly he had the most devilish idea. 

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth in concentration as he began to buzz the pads of his fingers across your clit as he grinned, knowing the effect it would have on you.

You yelped in surprise, eyes flying open as you looked down to see what he was doing. Oh. You hadn’t even thought of that as a possibility but it was so good.

“Peter- baby I-I’m close-“ you managed to choke out, arching your back to meet each of his thrusts, your poor abused pussy clenching around him in desperation.

“I’m close too- fuck cum for me baby- cum for Quickie-“ He let out a breathless laugh as his thrusts lost their rhythm even more, his thighs shaking as he felt himself just about to tip over the edge.

You weren’t sure if the two of you came at the same time, but it had to have been pretty damn close because the second you saw stars behind your eyelids, you felt warmth inside you as Peter released into the condom.

Once the two of you rode out your releases and caught your breath a bit, he pulled out of you, pulling the condom off his sensitive length and tossing it into the small trash can at the edge of the bed.

He collapsed against the bed, chest heaving hard as he turned over to look at you. He was a wreck, sweaty silver hair covering his forehead and poking him in the eye as he blinked. His whole body was hot to the touch, glistening with the smallest sheen of sweat.

“That was fucking amazing. Holy shit balls.” He panted, looking at the ceiling as he attempted to process what had just happened. He was no longer a virgin! Woohoo! Now no one could continue to make fun of him for it! 

“Shit balls?” You questioned, shaking your head as you laughed, smoothing Peter’s hair back out of his face before pressing a kiss to his nose, grinning. 

He snuggled close to you despite being sweaty and gross, closing his eyes as he breathed heavily, exhausted. It was another new feeling to him. He wasn’t usually tired and rarely ever slept, so for the first time in a while, he felt like he needed a nap. And a Twinkie, but a nap first.

“That was so good baby- thank you- I gotta sleep, feel like I’m gonna pass out.” He said groggily, pressing kisses to your skin in an almost delirious way as he fought to stay awake. 

“I’ll be here when you wake up, Peter. Sleep.” You cooed and he cuddled closer to you, wrapping you up in his arms. You felt so safe, and Peter just felt at peace. 

His new title was ‘the no longer virgin!’ And he intended to wear it proudly. 

[toxycodone]

mouthwashing characters when you’re depressed

ship. tulpar crew x reader cw. sfw + fluff/comfort

an. s/o to @xyfanficarchive for the Daisuke ideas!!!! my muse…

Curly

Oh he gets it. Full understands what you’re going through. (You can’t tell me he isn’t on some sort of anxiety/depression meds or at least got a potential diagnosis).

Curly most likely predicted that a depressive episode was coming. Whatever your key “tell” is: whether you start pulling back, issues sleeping, more nonchalant, appetite changes, it starts setting off bells in his head and he’s prepping.

He doesn’t wanna outright ask “are you depressed?” (He doesn’t know how to approach the subject at first really). So he just acts/reacts accordingly. He makes meals, helps you shower/bathe (he’s not gonna force you every day but if you go 2 or more days without it he’s putting you in there himself).

He even does little things like making sure you wash your face at least once a day and brush your teeth too.

Honestly, he does enjoy taking care of you. I think this is how he’d show he loves you for real. Even when you’re at your lowest you’re worth caring for. (It also distracts from his own issues buuuuut. That’s another story.)

My only qualm is I think he has that “toxic positivity” mindset unknowingly. He’s always like “it’s gonna get better! you need to drink more water/take vitamins/work out!” (these are just things he’s constantly telling himself tbh).

But Curly isn’t stupid. Like he will quickly pick up that’s not working for you and not what you need to hear and shift into a “shut up and help out” mindset. He moves from self help mode to just being there for you. I really have this mental image of him just hugging you on the couch and talking about his day. Sneaking in a few kisses or just giving compliments. But also if you’re not into that he just rubs your back while you bedrot. You’re quiet but enjoying time together and you know he’s there for you.

Jimmy

Been there, done that.

Okay, but seriously. He’s not to pressed at first. He’s basically living between bouts of depression, general neutrality, and mania. So this just seems like an inevitable “phase” you gotta go through.

But this is what makes him the most realistic when dealing with this. Jimmy isn’t gonna baby you or anything. He’s just like “it be like that” forreal. And unlike curly he’s not gonna rebuttal with reasons why life is great and why you shouldn’t be sad, he’s gonna agree. You say life is shit? Yeah, Jimmy 100% agrees. You two commiserate and it’s actually really cathartic because for once someone doesn’t make you feel crazy for being so down when there’s “so much to live for”.

He self medicates when he’s depressed. You’re getting offered pills or alcohol or a blunt or something. Whether you take it is up to you.

I can say Jimmy, for once, would stay sober. If he’s in a good enough mental state he’ll take one for the team and trip sit you or whatever so you can get that nice dopamine rush in peace.

Jimmy thinks it’s insane that he’s doing this, but when you’re depressed, and like really depressed—going through one of those terrible phases he’s been through before, he genuinely feels sympathetic. And it prompts him to do things he never thought. By that I mean doing your laundry, cooking what he can, making the bed. He doesn’t really get why, but he wants to do this and only for you. He really is angry about the fact no one has done this for him when he was in the same boat, but the thought of you having to suffer like he did? Just no. He’s gonna pitch in. He just has to.

But again, he’s best for commiserating. You two bitch heavily about how much the world sucks over way too many beers on his back porch. Probably throw rocks or smash junk while absolutely hammered, too. Then the next morning you’re hungover as shit and spend the day recovering before it’s back to “it is what it is.” Like yeah, it sucks and you feel like shit, but at least you have each other in your corners. If one of you is still kicking, it’s only fair the other is too.

Anya

Like Curly, she knew this was coming a mile away. Anya is not stupid. She’s spent so much time with her nose in psychology books that she gets tipped off insanely fast.

Unlike Curly though, she wants to address the problem. Anya starts gently at first with a simple “are you okay?” It opens the floor for you to be honest. And if you aren’t willing to talk about it or if you mask it with an “I’m fine!” She just. Frowns. Anya does not believe it, but she’s not gonna force you.

Until you start with more textbook symptoms. Then she’s like “I think you might be having a depressive episode.” She’s not letting you dance around it by then. You two are facing this head on.

and the good thing is that you guys talk about it. Like actually talk. Anya listens, lets you say your peace. Nods in understanding and shows you she’s actively taking her time to understand you. Then instead of giving her two cents, she asks you what you want her to do. Anya wants to know how she can help you in the moment and in the long run.

And she does it! Whatever she’s able to, she’s gonna do it. Anya is a really reliable partner and just truly solid. It can be anything from sharing a shower, ordering takeout and chilling on the couch, or even if you just need her to be in the same room but leave you the fuck alone—she’s there for you.

She’s definitely recommending tips from psychology books too. Journaling, eating spicy foods, getting a little exercise if possible—you guys go down a laundry list to help kick this episode in the butt.

And then when the time comes, you two have a good conversation about therapy/medication. (Don’t worry she won’t offer to be your therapist and encourages you to see a neutral third party you can be honest with)

Daisuke

Okay…Daisuke is a bit of a mixed bag. I think he’s been sad, but not truly depressed.

He doesn’t catch the warning signs, so at first when it hits, Daisuke just thinks you’re in a bit of a funk. It’s okay! He’s been through this before. And he’s happy to help you out of it!

Daisuke takes you to the arcade, thrifting, maybe on a little shopping spree…but when that doesn’t work (or when he can’t even encourage you to do it in the first place), Dai hits a wall.

He’s confused. And worried. Really worried about you. This depends on you as a person and whether it makes you feel better or worse, but I think it’s very visible how your depressive episodes affect him. Until he really understands what it is and what it means, Daisuke’s really fretting when this happens.

And so…he voices that concern. “I just noticed that you seem sad. Like, really sad. And I don’t know what to do!” So!! He asks!! What can he do to help you? Or do you even want his help?

And whatever your answer is, he does it. He’ll give you reminders that he loves you, takes care of you, even binges shitty tv shows over even more terrible for you junk food. As long as he can just keep showing he’s there for you and that you’re worth it. That he loves you even when you’re at your lowest…that’s what matters the most.

And just being the goof he is, he’s gonna do things to make you smile. Dancing around the kitchen, showing you his playlist of funny TikToks, cracking some stupid jokes he may or may not have stolen from Twitter. Any time he can crack even a hint of a smile he’s fist pumping and celebrating.

And then…he is probably going to recommend therapy. (He has an awesome adhd therapist he’s working w so. He’s singing the praises for it to you.)

Swansea

Oddly enough I really see him similar to Jimmy. Swansea’s so realistic he’s just like “you’re depressed? Yeah life sucks, so what? You keep going.”

But he’s smart enough to not be like “just get off your ass”. He takes pity on you, whether he likes it or not. Seeing you out of your element does make him upset.

He’s a comiserater, but he’s always going to counter with like “but we keep going anyways.” And if you’re like “but why?” He’s like “why not?”

Like yeah, shit isn’t always good, so you settle for mediocrity. Because the mundane can actually be really nice. Swansea’s a simple pleasures man—good coffee, good food, good times spent relaxing either alone or with the ones you love. That’s what makes it all worth it.

Swansea’s like “you can have your little moments where it all seems like shit, but eventually you gotta face the music and go back to reality.”

He’s a very grounding presence, though. I’ll give him that. He’s also 100% going to cook for you. And you can tell he cares because he has difficulty leaving you alone. He hopes that you seeing him doing stuff. Persisting. That it’ll give you some hope.

and when you start getting more back to normal, showing interest again in your usual hobbies or responsibilities—you can see a weight visibly lift off his shoulders.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Hello, babes. How was practice? I'm Maven, your tumblr hockey mom. Below you'll find a complete masterlist of imagines, series, and OC chapters and what you can expect from me and my writing style. A quick background, in case you're interested:

- I've been writing near twenty years, yes I'm an old cow, by tumblr's standards I'm sure. 

- I don't read fics, I just write them. 

- I'm a stickler for attention to details. I like to do research to make sure what I'm writing is legitimate and believable. I pride myself on realism. 

- I don't do hockey romance novel-type writings. If you want a realistic approach to a relationship (as best as I can envision) with Quinn (or any other hockey player I should write) then you've found the right girl. I won't write the reader as the Taylor Swift of the hockey world where she's in the limelight at every game she attends, caught on camera, noticed by fans, ect. For example, something like, "can it be the reader's birthday and Quinn calls attention to it on the Jumbotron during warm-ups?" I'll decline unrealistic plots like this, I'm sorry. Stuff that would never happen in real-life, I won't do. There are people on here who write like that, and that's fine if that's what you're into, but you won't get it from me. Simple as. 

- I don't write smut. Nothing against it, not being a prude. I just don't write it.  (stay tuned)

- I try to post a few times a week, to keep my inbox a manageable degree of cleaned out. I try to knock out requests from oldest to newest, but sometimes certain plots don't come to me as easily as others and I might skip one (for the time being) until something comes to me.

- Artistic license is used at my discretion but I try my best to keep your request as was...well, requested! 

- I try to give you guys a minimum of one-thousand words per imagine. Sometimes they're longer, but never shorter than 1k. It's just is a good number which allows me to post as many as I do while working two jobs everyday.

- I don't like writing my version of another author's original idea. General plots like a first date, a surprise birthday party, ect, is one thing because it's a very broad umbrella, but if someone approached me, telling me they read a story where the reader was Quinn's maid and he fell in love with her, and if I could write something similar, I would have to decline. It just feels too "stolen idea" for me and I don't want to step on toes. I understand no one can own or lay claim to an idea for a fanfiction, but still... person preference. 

- Apologies if this has come off very...strict. I just want to save myself time and not have to break anyone's heart because they didn't know what I was about, or what I wouldn't do. I'm easy to get along with, but I just know what I'm comfortable with and what I'm not interested in. Again, I'm not the only writer on this side of tumblr, but I appreciate all of those who have interacted with me and who have helped build this budding account. 

LINKS ARE WORKING! All my fics can be found under #💌Maven's Love Notes just in case they break again.

Pretty Boy Blues | You notice Quinn dealing with some troublesome skin issues, and you ask to help him. | No content warnings apply

Last Call | You're late getting home from a night out with the girls. Quinn's pacing waiting for you. Where could you be? | Implied alcohol consumption

Sleeping Beauty | Quinn learns of you having fainting spells while he's been away on the road. | Implied depression-induced eating disorders

Post-practice Cuddles | Quinn returns from practice in pain and needs your to help to get his mind off of it. | No content warnings apply

Take Your Pick | You let Quinn pick your outfit for the day. | Suggestive themes; implied sexual interactions

Baby me | Quinn refuses to take his medicine. | No content warnings apply

Plague-bringer | Quinn tests positive for Covid. | No content warnings apply

Leave Me Where I Lie | You get sick in the middle of the night and Quinn comes looking for you. | No content warnings apply

Princess on Board | Quinn and yourself go on a short road-trip and you're well prepared, crown included. | Implied daddy dom/brat aesthetic

Partners in Crime | Quinn insists on helping you make breakfast. | Mild bratty-reader aesthetic

Kitchen Kisses | Quinn and yourself stay in on New Year's Eve and welcome the new year alongside a batch of cookies. | No content warnings apply

Detour | Quinn has other plans before you fly out of Vancouver for the holidays. The ring box in his pocket might be why. | No content warnings apply

From Me: With Love | You finally get to give Quinn his custom gift for Christmas | No content warnings apply

When it Rains it Pours | Your day goes from bad to worse while trying to get the apartment ready for Quinn's return. | Mild reader bodily injury, mentions of blood

A Night In | Quinn picks you up for your birthday but takes you to his apartment instead of a restaurant. | No content warnings apply

Two Lines | Your cycle is late. Are you pregnant? | Anxiety themes

Tease Me | Quinn is week-to-week with his hand injury and is getting bored of not being on the ice. | Mild adult themes

Just Because | Quinn brings you a surprise to apologize for something out of his control. | No content warnings apply

Knock, Knock | You rush to Quinn's apartment following the high-sticking during the Lightning game. | Brief descriptions of bodily injury, blood, and mild adult themes

Cold Sheets | You're struggling with insomnia when Quinn comes looking for you in the middle of the night. | No content warning apply

Broken Glass | Your car gets totaled en route to Rogers Arena. | Graphic descriptions of bodily injury, emotional distress, and reader in pain

Broken Glass Pt 2 | Weeks after your car wreck, Quinn gives you one simple rule to follow. | 18+, dominate partner, emotional manipulation

Coupons | You go grocery shopping with Quinn before he leaves to go back on the road. | Separation anxiety, and mild depressive thoughts

Bang-bang, Kiss-kiss | You break off your relationship with Quinn. | Emotional distress, anxiety, heartbreak, and blame

Damaged Goods | You attend a home game and all hell breaks loose. | Depictions of bodily injury, and blood

Chapter I | A Chance Meeting

Episode 1 | Season opener: Flames v. Canucks

A Second Cup | You have an unfortunate run-in with Jeremy Swayman | No content warnings apply

[yurinaa-world]

Hi! Could you make an artist reader? Basically a painter who draws his partner or cats, etc?

With the characters Aventurine, Sampo, Moze, Dan Heng (I'm using this with a translator so I don't know if it's spelled correctly...)

2#"𝓓𝓻𝓪𝔀 𝓶𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓱 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵𝓼"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Aventurine, Sampo, & Moze x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with a reader who's an artist

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling mistakes

💫Dan Heng's part is here: 💫

💫𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝐼𝒫𝒞 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑔𝒾𝒸 𝐼𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒟𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉"

“Not bad, not bad at all. You really know what catches my good side.”

It was supposed to be a gift painting of him, your delicate, nimble fingers first sketched it out before picking out colours and finally taking a brush and painting over the canvas sketch with extreme eye for detail.

He always loved to barge in whenever he felt like it, but now it is a very bad moment! He saw it when you were almost finished! Seriously, you wanted to surprise him so badly. You whirl around cheeks already flushed from the intensity of your concentration, now burning hotter with embarrassment. 

"Y-you weren’t supposed to see it yet!" you stammer, instinctively moving to shield the canvas with your arms, though it's far too late. He smirks, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed. 

"Oh, come on. You can't blame me for being curious. I mean, you’ve been holed up in here for days, looking all suspicious."

He goes silent for a bit, staring at the painting for a while…

He's sort of left completely speechless by you.

“Wow, what detail. How about I put this up in my office.” he grinned, while you completely protested the idea because you weren’t finished 

“No way! It’s not finished.”

💫𝒮𝒶𝓂𝓅𝑜 𝒦𝑜𝓈𝓀𝒾 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇-𝒯𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓊𝑒𝒹 𝒮𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓂𝒶𝓃"

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He whined and cried till his throat went dry, but even then that wouldn’t stop his extremely annoying cries. All while you listen and skim through your supplies, nit-picking at what you need all while your canvas is stood in front of a Sampo who’s tied to the chair. 

“Dear Sampo just wanted to make some profits, and those paintings have been there for years, I was just doing you a favour!”

You only sigh at his words. You don’t like to sell your painting, especially with a vendor like Sampo of all people. It may have been ancient yet you didn’t want to get rid of it.

the idea that it may be hanging on a wall in some random place, bought by Sampo’s tricks at a higher price, gave you an unpleasant feeling in your mouth. “You are something, you know,” you whispered, taking a palette knife and twirling it around in your fingers. Not for a show of power—even if you’d like Sampo to see it that way—but because it helped your mind stay focused.

At an exaggerated rate, Sampo shrank back while his chair was making a squeaky noise, signifying his discomfort. “I mean, come on, be realistic, let’s think logically about it! I’m only the middleman in the process here, attempting to make your raw talent the new trend!” 

“You’re right, so in turn for your service I decided to give you something to sell as well.” you smile with joy, as you sit down on the chair in front of my canvas, which makes him sweat dearly on what you’re about to do. 

You lean back, tilting your head as if to get a better view of your subject. “You’d make a... striking muse, don’t you think?” Sampo’s cheeks flush a deep red. “Striking? I—I mean, I am a good-looking guy, but—wait a second! What kind of striking are we talking about here?” 

“You're right, someone would like a painting of a guy like you, I wonder in what position though,” you mutter that last part but you know he heard “Your beauty will sell for millions just like you wanted.”

💫𝑀𝑜𝓏𝑒 “𝒮𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔”

“Moze.”

One call of his name and he’ll be landing at your feet to see what you need him to do. Appearing behind you, his hands gently landing on your shoulders—still scaring you to death, before whispering “You called” under his breath, yet loud enough for you to hear.

Immediately turning around and clasping your hands with his, along with a giant smile on your face. “Moze! Could you be my subject!”

He (easily) caved and became what you needed him to be most, your subject in your painting. He’s so awkward when posing! You had to personally move him around a couple of times since he’s made all of the poses you put him in awkward somehow.

Which leaves you to have your hand on your chin, staring at him with a precise gaze, that is the same as his, yet, yours was made to find beauty in hopeless things.

 “Hah…how should I pose you.”

Taking his one hand in yours while your other hand goes to his hood, you gently pull it down, revealing his slightly messy hair. “You hide so much behind this,” you say softly, smoothing a few strands away from his face. 

“I think… maybe something natural,” you mumble, tilting your head to examine him from another angle. You guide him to sit on the chair near the window, where the soft light filters through the curtains. “Lean back, like this,” you murmur, adjusting his shoulders to relax against the chair. “And look out the window… like you’re lost in thought.”

Moze does as you say, his hands gripping the edge of the chair a little too tightly. You shake your head with a small laugh and pry his fingers loose, placing one hand on his lap and letting the other dangle over the side of the chair. “There. Try to look more relaxed.”

He’s honestly trying the best he can, his shoulders less tense and face less serious—even though that’s basically all he knows to do. “Thank you.” You smile gently at him before pecking him on the lips as a thank you, before finally starting at your sketch.

He can’t forget your pretty smile. He helped you. He wishes he had his hood on now.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[leafsbabe]

Travis Kelce - private show (SMUT)

2k, there is a butt plug in this in case you don't like that

He loved his team, he truly did, but Travis was also very glad when their post-training meeting was over and he could dip. None of his teammates tried to stop him as he all but ran out of the room, something he was grateful for. In the past it had been a given that he would walk out with some of the other men, talking, joking, but nowadays that had become a rare sight. He was always in a rush to get back to his room, back to the closest thing he had ever come to an addiction.

Away games hadn't been the same ever since he had stumbled across that fateful link.

By some lucky coincidence the facilities for the visiting team in the field they’d be playing tomorrow were absolute ass so the chiefs had rented out one of the hotel meeting rooms for their review. Meaning all Travis had to do to get back to his room was hop onto an elevator. After that he was free to lock himself in his room until it was time for dinner.

The elevator crawled up to his floor at a snail's pace but he stopped himself from impatiently rocking back and forth on the soles of his feet. When it finally came to a stop he started to squeeze out of the elevator before the doors had fully opened but he didn’t even care how it looked, he was already late and he didn’t want to miss any more.

The door to his room slammed shut behind him as he stormed in, jumping onto the bed with enough energy that realistically it should have broken but by some miracle stayed intact as he opened his carefully changed laptop while attempting to toe off his shoes.

The website didn’t automatically open once he clicked on his browser but he had been visiting it religiously to the point that it autofilled after a single letter. His pants started to feel too tight before the site had even finished loading and Travis couldn’t help but groan at the realisation that he fucking pavloved himself into getting a semi at the mere thought of you.

The stream had already started but hopefully he didn’t miss much. A familiar background greeted him before his eyes focused in on you. Splayed across the bed you’re a sight for sore eyes, hair messed up just enough to let him know you’d played with it before he logged on, body clad in next to nothing. A new, expensive next to nothing. Good to know all of the money he sent you got put to good use. 

He waited for you to greet him like you usually did, surely you must have noticed him joining your stream, he was your biggest fan after all, but when you didn’t he sent you a message over private chat. Expensive, yes, but he didn’t need people knowing his dirty little secrets.

Finally you acknowledged him. 

“Hi bigyeti, nice of you to join again.” It seemed like a standard greeting but he knew by your tone that you were annoyed at him for being late again. Brat. Travis watched you slide a hand over your bare skin until it reached the lace covering your chest. But instead of teasing one of your hard nipples through the material or even taking it off to show the irresistible swell of your chest you just ran your fingers over the seam at the edge of your bra. “As much as I think this set is cute, this will probably be the last time you’ll see me in it. It’s not really comfortable and I can barely get it closed by myself.”

You were probably hoping for messages offering to help you with that but Travis had been watching long enough to read between the lines. You were going to offer up the set but beat you to it. His simple message didn't get a written reply but he noticed you look off screen before smiling. “You know the price bigyeti.”

You didn’t take it off though, just changed positions until you were kneeling on the bed. It was only then that Travis noticed the selection of toys laid out in front of you.

“What do you think,” you picked up one of them, dark purple and intriguing, but not his favorite of the spread. “Should we run a poll or let the highest bidder decide?”

He sent you a rack before you even had time to decide, after which he finally rid himself of his sweats and underwear.

“You know which one.” Your sweet voice read his message in the chat, laughing as you held up the one you knew he wanted. Pale pink with ridges that could get you off every time, filling you up perfectly before the vibrations took you out. The first time he had watched you use it you had squirted and he had been hooked ever since.

“Should I be concerned big? You seem to like this little guy more than me.” You pouted at the camera, bringing the vibe up and tapping it against your bottom lip. 

Travis groaned before typing again. Hopefully this would be a one handed operation soon.

“You know you’re my favorite. Aww that’s so sweet of you yeti. Want to know a secret?” He watched you lean forward, holding your chest into the camera with practiced ease. “You’re my favorite too.”

Travis slowly stroked himself as you bit your lip, reaching behind you and finally freeing yourself from the lace. You had been truthful about how ill fitting it was, his eyes automatically drawn to the red indents on the side of your boobs. He fantasized about getting his mouth on them, of soothing your flesh with his tongue.

You didn’t try to act sexy as you balled up the bra and threw it off-cam, something he came to enjoy. You were this temptress, bane of his bank account and object of his desire, but you were also human.

As he saw you kneeling there Travis finally gave in and reached for his lube, because he was in his thirties now and using lotion to jack off felt awfully juvenile. He watched you run your hands over your body, just palming himself to the view of you playing with your nipples.

“We’re going to try something new today.”

The tone of your voice had him shifting, sitting up straighter and paying more attention. He didn’t have to wait long to find out what something new meant. You got rid of the last remaining hint of nothing hiding your skin before turning around into the most perfect reverse cowgirl POV he knew and there it was. Nestled between your cheeks laid a small plug with a deep red gem at the end that sparkled in the lights you used during your shows. A hot shudder ran through him as the grip he had on himself tightened.

“You know what to do if you like it.” You smiled at the cam over your shoulder before turning back around.

Travis debated between finally touching himself properly and sending you another donation when you positioned the toy he picked and he relented. He’d just send you another tip later. He was slow with his movements, teasing himself as you sank down on the toy. You stopped halfway, adjusting to the stretch, but Travis just continued to stroke his dick.

You were noisy, he liked that about the streams. You weren’t holding back but it also didn’t feel like you were putting on a show. You were simply vocal in bed and he loved it.

Treavis continued to work himself as he watched you ride the toy, torn between closing his eyes and imagining it was you that had a hand wrapped around his dick or even riding it and wanting to watch you take your pleasure with the toy on stream. He watched you move, the way you stretched around the toy with every rise and fall. It was mesmerizing, the shimmer of that salacious gem catching his eye only for his focus to be drawn away by the flex of your thick thighs, or the dimples on your lower back, or those sweet filthy moans that kept on leaving your mouth. He felt drunk on you, drunk on the fire running through him.

There was no rhythm to the way Travis was stroking his cock as he watched you, all pretense of following your movements abandoned long ago. He felt his orgasm approaching, considering for a moment whether he should try and draw it out, to wait for you and come together, before giving that idea up and quickening his pace. He came to the sound of your moans, all over his fist and with his head thrown back in ecstasy.

Travis let himself float only until the next moan tore his attention back to the screen in front of him. You were barely riding the toy at this point, grinding more than anything. Even with his muddled mind it was clear that you were on the brink yourself.

When you finally tipped over it was with a shout. Your legs shook, more violently than he had ever seen from you before, while your body contracted around the sex toys filling you up. He palmed his softening cock as he watched you fall apart, too spent to try getting another orgasm out of it but still wired enough to draw out that afterglow for just a little while longer. 

He watched as your orgasm came to an end, the shaking in your thighs never quite stopping even though the vibrations of your toy did. You removed the pink vibrator but that bejeweled plug stayed in place as you slowly turned around and sat in full view of the cam, leaning back on your hands and smiling. You were still breathing heavily but it only drew attention to your tits and Travis found himself reaching for his phone before he realized that his hand was covered in his cum and used his other one instead. He wasn’t good at typing with his nondominant hand but another tip found itself being sent your way soon enough anyway.

“That was fun.” You said, breathless but still smiling. No reaction to his message if you had even seen it. “We should do this again sometime.”

Travis got another long look at your body as you leaned forward to shut off the cam and then he was alone in his hotel room again.

Shutting his laptop before he got up, Travis went to wash his hands and clean up a bit of the mess around his dick. He would shower soon but there was something he had to take care of before that. His phone was still laid on the bed, even though he had to search through the sheets to find it.

Travis pulled up that all too familiar contact and pressed video call. You answered almost immediately, makeup still on your face but with your hair pulled back and a shirt thrown over your body.

“Was that good?” You asked as soon as the call connected. He could see you bite your lip, nervously, and he hated being so far away from you even more.

“You were perfect.” He answered, truthfully. “So hot, baby. Almost makes me want to set you up a real camming account just to show you off.”

The program you two had now was little more than a private video chat but Travis had tried to set it up nicely for you. It had involved a lot of awkward questions to one of the New Height techies but the chat worked amazing for your little cam show and your audience of one.

You just laughed at his antics. “No you wouldn’t.”

“No I wouldn’t.” He relented. “I don’t like to share, even if you’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen. And all mine.”

You laughed again. “All yours.” You confirmed before continuing, teasing him with an account of the new things you had brought for the two of you to try. Fuck. He couldn’t wait to come home.

[alliskit]

BG3 Headcanons Nobody Asked For.

Part 1: Sleep.

Staring up at my ceiling waiting to sleep made me ask, "How do the companions realistically sleep?" Thank you insomnia for the inspiration.

Gale:

He has to be comfy. He's particular about his pillows and will be very angry if someone "borrows" HIS pillow. (Karlach and Astarion thinks his reaction is funny and will steal it, likely giving it to Lae'zel who has no idea how it got in her tent and insists AGAIN it wasn't her)

It takes him a while to fall asleep, he's a canon overthinker and what better time than alone, pent up, in a tent.

Speaking of pent up, he is likely to wank off to help sleep. It's science. (Is thinking of tav)

Tosses slightly in REM or at the beginning, eventually stays pretty much in the same position all night.

On particularly stressful days/nights, he sleep talks. You could have full conversations with him, even if they are whacko and hilarious (Shadowheart loves to mess with this). He also says funny gimmicks in his sleep like his "By Algeron's nose!" quite loudly. It does wake camp and will start with others messing with him.

He has a tendency to early to sleep, early to rise, UNLESS he has found himself caught up in a recent hyperfixation where he will be up all night and crash at daybreak. His sleep will be much different and he crashes on his stomach, drooling a lot.

Most common position is one leg straight, the other slightly bent (almost making the 4 pose), hand on either side of his chest, unintentionally touching the orb.

Has a magical alarm set the to same time every morning. He gets up promptly and is a bit peeved by those who seem to "Dilly Dally" (because he says shit like that unironically) in the mornings.

Karlach:

Almost complete opposite of Gale. The girl's got ADHD as canon so IYKYK. If you don't *Let me describe it to you*:

She crashes. Girl can be asleep in under 20 minutes and can do it in almost any conditions. Had to learn to sleep wherever chasing devils in the hells. She rocks out and goes down hard.

Tosses and turns all night. Full on starfish queen. Always starts the morning with "Gods I was so cold last night". Likely because she kicked off all her covers at hour 2.

Sleeps hard. Doesn't wake up for anything. Zariel's entire entourage could show up at 2AM and she would have to be woken up.

She has 2 modes: #1) falls asleep before dinner because she just wanted a "nap", wakes at 4am for a snack and falls back to sleep. #2) She stays up talking until everyone is going to bed, even staying up to talk with whoever is on first watch and finally crashing when the second shift gets up.

It takes her forever to get out of bed. Everyone could be up and nearly ready to go and it takes the smell of food or someone nudging her to get her to start. Even if she does wake up, she takes forever to get ready or even off her bedroll. If the group wants to leave in a timely manner, someone has to get her up early (usually Gale because being late makes him angyyy. Also Lae'zel is very punctual but refuses to wake Karlach because "she needs to learn to do it on her own")

She is super groggy when she gets up. Will not talk to anyone.

Has to hug something: Tav, Clive, a pillow, extra bedroll, Scratch, etc.

Talks in her sleep as well, but hers are unintelligible. Some words like "Heya" or small phrases can be deciphered, but usually its just loud mumbles. (Cannot hold full on conversation like with Gale)

Vivid dreams. Likes to recount them on travels and tries to figure out if they mean something. They are usually very odd and funny. Though, she does have nightmares of the hells more often than she will admit. Has only admitted such to Astarion, who can relate.

Lae'zel:

Irish exits to bed. Tells no one. If everyone is drinking and she just decides she's tired, she goes to bed. Most don't even realize she's gone for a while.

She sleeps like the dead, but will wake up wide awake. She can be woken up by sound in the middle of the night, but she easily goes back to sleep.

Doesn't move an inch after sleeping. Sleeps on her back hands on her stomach like the dead. Sometimes a leg will shift an inch or so.

She has the perfect internal clock. Has to go to bed around the same time and wakes around the same time naturally. Soldier's hours. She was trained at her creche to sleep and wake at exact times - no exceptions.

The first time she ever slept in was after a night of drinking where she went to bed after her internal clock was ignored. She had a full on panic attack and got very angry that no one woke her, despite everyone being hung over and not waking up early too.

Dreams are vivid, but she doesn't talk about them like Karlach.

Stretches before bed in her tent, trains before breakfast every morning.

If it was her way, everyone would be on her schedule. Hates the differentiation between habits. Used to the organization and tries to repeatedly convince the group that it's the only way they should be doing it. They oblige her for two days, then stop. Karlach is the first to quit. Shadowheart secretly likes the idea of organized wake and sleep times, but will never admit it to Lae'zel.

Shadowheart:

Has to have tea before bed. Convinced herself she won't sleep well without it and now she doesn't. When the group has to make quick camp and she has no time to make it, she is annoyed, but won't say anything about it.

Light sleeper. She will sleep a full night, but wakes up several times. Likes to tell the one on watch it's because she wants to check on them, but in reality, she woke up having to pee. Like every night. And because they were likely too loud doing something to keep themselves awake and it woke her up.

She sleeps like a normal person would (is anyone normal? I guess I mean what statically people have a tendency to do...). She tosses a little in REM and then stills. Side sleeper. She also snores when she is really tired, and it can wake herself up. Once Astarion called her out for snoring and she vehemently denied it, but she knew it was likely true. She's really self conscious about it.

Though she loves Tav, she doesn't love sharing a tent. She grew up sharing everything with initiates and having her own space for once is nice. She will snuggle for a few minutes then tell Tav they're a little hot and scoot away. Not even a foot touch. Girl needs her space.

Despite needing space the exceptions to this are Scratch and the Owlbear. She has to have them in her tent. She will bribe then away from other companions because she won't sleep without them. (HC is in her playthrough she romances Halsin and will sleep next to him as a bear, when she can change into her lycanthropic wolf form, she might sleep that way next to him too.)

Wakes up as soon as she hears people about, usually right after Gale and Lae'zel. Hates that Lae'zel likes to be the group alarm clock by using her sharpening stone to wake everyone up. She did try to call Lae'zel out on it, but Lae'zel just shrugged and told her everyone should be up by sunrise anyway. She is secretly thankful even if it's the most annoying noise ever because she would just sleep in if Lae'zel didn't.

Wyll:

He likes to stay up late and wakes up only when breakfast is ready. Not as bad as Karlach.

He is usually the one to take first watch, so he can stay up and read his erotica, take a private bath (he's got a routine), dance alone, train, have a drink, etc. Have "me" time.

He sleeps flipping from back to side several times. If he's really tired, he ends up on his stomach. Heavy mouth breather. Knows he is because he will wake up with dry mouth or drool crust. Very insecure about it. Half of avoiding sex with someone is the sleeping over. He thinks he's a bad sleeper. He's not that bad. One time someone called him out on it, has been embarrassed ever since.

Dreams of falling asleep snuggling with Tav, but in practice, it kind of annoys him and they keep him awake. Used to his own routines.

Has to have water nearby. Will wake up with dry mouth and chug it.

Has dreams, but rarely remembers them.

Won't really talk to anyone until he's had tea, coffee, or food. Gale makes him super annoyed in the mornings because he wants to talk immediately.

Halsin:

Can stay up late and rise early. Will often be found talking to Karlach well into the night.

Has a tent, rarely uses it. Can fall asleep by the fire with people talking nearby or even someone up on watch. Will move his sleep spot to places just outside of camp to get more of a "falls asleep under the stars" feel. Can sleep without a bedroll if he wanted.

Naturally warm (werebear HC all the way), he doesn't often need a blanket, let alone clothes. Will skip clothes when he's outside of camp or in his tent. Wishes the companions were more "open minded" about the benefits of sleeping nude.

When not asleep in camp where he can be seen, will definitely, almost every time, wank off to sleep. It's natural! If he's got Tav, he will respect their no, but will always ask for a romp before bed.

He reveries peacefully, even if he's having "nightmares". No one would know if they looked at him that he was reliving the day his archdruid mentor died. He won't burden anyone with it either.

Big cuddler. Likes cuddling before reverie if Tav is willing. Or even if on of the companions are. Doesn't have to lead to anything, a cuddle is a cuddle.

Wakes with the sun everyday. Stretches and takes a walk within minutes of waking. Sun in the first 10 minutes kind of guy. (He would love Andrew Huberman)

Will want to talk as soon as he wakes up too, to Wyll's chagrin.

Minthara:

Has shit reverie. Super light sleeper most nights, where she can't say she got much sleep. Then once or twice a month she will crash. Will sleep like Karlach and not wake for anything.

DO NOT WAKE HER UP SHE WILL HURT YOU (only verbally if you're lucky, there is a literal knife under her pillow).

Even if she has sleep issues, she insists on an image of "early to sleep, early to rise". She sees herself in a secret camaraderie with Lae'zel. She won't admit she wants Lae'zel to give her approval, but she smiles and nods at her every morning.

Eternal eye bags, but pretends they aren't there. She is gorgeous and she knows it.

Nightmares about her life in Menzoberranzan or memories of the love of her life alive are the regulars on the menu, though after a few months with the companions, she starts having reveries about Karlach in battle... a lot.

Knows she should take a shift of watch and would be the best candidate for it, but won't do it unless someone asks.

Doesn't move in her sleep and if she wakes up, she moves as fast as a spider when you try to catch it. So, once again: DO NOT WAKE HER UP.

Doesn't talk to anyone until everyone has eaten, even if she is wide awake. She hates talking to people in the morning, unless you're Tav... or Karlach (but as previously mentioned, Karlach doesn't wake until breakfast and doesn't talk until breakfast, so it's her dreams come true.)

Astarion:

Left him for last becasue talking about the causes of CPTSD on sleep can be heartbreaking and complicated. I'm thankful I don't often relive memories in my dreams, but I know many who do. And he sure does.

He has broken reverie, not just shit reverie like Minthara. Minthy still reveries. He dreams/reveries together. He can't tell what is a memory and what is a dream anymore. His memories have been so rewritten, he doesn't believe he actually remembers anything properly, let alone his life before Cazador. He considers anything that comes up from back then to be a fantasy his mind made up.

It takes him forever to fall asleep and he wakes up easily. He is getting only a few hours each night. Spends a lot of time staring up at the tent ceiling or secretly watching the first watch until his turn at second. Is very often on either first or second watch.

Knows a lot about how the rest of the companions sleep. You can just assume he took these notes that I'm now recording for you.

He has no real sleep routine because he thinks they don't work and is frustrated by them even though Gale insists he keep trying.

Even when he's tired, exhausted, body ready to pass out, his mind is awake. He will still just lay there. Chronic insomnia.

When he has Tav's blood for the first time, it is the first time he has a full night reverie in centuries. It's not even scary memories, but rather sad mundane ones (would be sad and traumatic to anyone else, but traumatic for him is much more intense obvs).

By canon will have severe nightmares when too hungry.

Usually has to hunt before bed if Tav (or another companion) doesn't give him blood (HC is that Halsin is one of the only other willing to share). Gets excess anxiety out, but also feeding helps him get at least to sleep, eventually. Nights he doesn't he pulls all nighters or ends up having very short, nightmare induced reveries.

If Tav sleeps next to him, he sleeps a tad bit better, but is extremely nervous his insomnia will keep them up. First few times lies there just listening to them sleep.

Will pretend to "wake up" after others have gotten up, but has been up for hours already. Is the actual first one up even if no one else knows. Often takes a walk in the early light (Has seen Halsin sleeping butt naked and has considered waking the bear with a special "treat"). But usually uses the time to feel the sun on his skin and wade in the river alone.

Thank you for enjoying my very detailed mindless imaginings.

[samberrybay]

This part in 32 chp always felt kind of odd to me and this is the reason why:

The coward wolf boy, Lock. Until Choi Han found him, Lock had been hiding as the chief had told him. The Lock at that point is very much a coward, a weakling, and kind of slow. In simple terms, Lock easily took the position of the character that readers found to be extremely frustrating.

This has bothered me since I first read the novel, and to this day, even after several rereads, it still haunts me.

Cale simply isn't the type of a person to actually call a kid, no matter how they behave, to be "frustrating".

(When the text said "readers" it's damn well obvious of Cale being the one to think so.)

Pondering for some time I can roughly guess why the wording was so unexpected for his character.

At the time of the assassination/kindaping in the village, Lock was only thirteen years old. He also hasn't had his first berserk transformation yet. Therefore it is not surprising that Lock's uncle hid him and told not to go out, saying that everything was fine and he should continue to hide.

Now let's look at the situation realistically.

Lock (in tcf) jumps out of his hiding to protect his younger siblings. The adrenaline and inner Blue Wolf Tribe's instincts to protect turned on his berserk transportation one year beforehand, however if not Rosalyn and Choi Han, who came earlier than in the actual novel, i don't think it would help much.

Lock would possibly be able to kill a few people or at least seriously injure them, but CMON. They killed an ENTIRE village full of berserk Blue Wolf's and with almost-Wolf King (Lock's uncle). Do you really believe that a thirteen years old boy jumping into his first berserk transformation would be able to fight properly against strong organization that had holy water or some sort of holy artefact on their hands?

Again, if not for Choi Han's and Rosalyn's arrival... it would have definitely ended pretty bad.

In TBOAH Lock for some reason didn't jump out. Different circumstances, wrong wroted part in the novel, idk, but the fact is stated: Lock stayed hidden. He also most likely survived only because of Choi Han's help. Just with much worse scenario where he was left alone from the whole village.

And it wasn't Lock's fault yet again. He was a child. No matter if a Beastman one or not, the boy was just an innocent, naive and weak child.

So why would Cale, Kim Rok Soo at the time, find him frustrating? Extremely so even!

The answer is much easier if you think about it.

Because it wasn't Kim Rok Soo blaming a kid for being weak and cowardly in a fearful situation, it was a man who saw his own past that he hated so much.

A coward, a weakling and kind of slow.

For Rok Soo, who blamed himself for half of his life for the deaths of team one members, Lock was like a salt for still open, but ignored wounds.

KRS greatly disliked and maybe even envied Lock for a bit. The boy got a new family, he got friends and some sort of guidance from them even after facing so much despair.

While he was all alone, trying to understand what to do on his own.

It sure is irritating for Rok Soo.

Yet Team Leader Kim Rok Soo was probably unable to fully hate Lock for his weakness, because while the latter was still a kid, the same forgiveness can't be used on him. At least in his own head.

So with conflicting feelings Cale settled on "Extremely frustrating" description.

[joydoesathing]

Hi, do you have some Raffael and Ann's / Arlenne and Glen's headcanons (P.S You rule!)

Why yes, yes I do. Here comes a

DOUBLE (QUADRUPLE?) HC SPECIAL ✨✨

The Schmichts

They met each other around the early 1930s in New York

The suppressed realist and his manic pixie dream girl baddie™️

Can definitely put up a fight, if needed

Arlene helps Glenn let loose from his close-minded thinking and Glenn Arlene the stable support and validation she needs in those occasional times after she gets wearied out from staying positive 24/7 despite the unfriendly society.

Arlene

A friendly woman who seems to be off in her own world at times

A really good observer and can remember and describe things in detail

Her works and publications are mostly nonfiction but she does occasionally write fictional short stories, both of which are mostly based on real-life horrors the world could offer at the time including those she has experienced and witnessed way back then

She was born in the South and originally worked in a factory in the but later on quit then migrated North with her family to escape the especially nasty hate in the South and later on pursue her budding passion for writing

Despite knowing she's almost definitely going to be put down no matter where she goes, she has steeled her resolve and continues persevering

Glenn

A conformist with a usually no-nonsense personality

Can be a bit hard for him to say how he actually thinks and feels (suppressed man™️)

Having had to work tooth and nail in school and in work to get to where he is right now, all the while being beat down with countless insults and learning the extreme race biases, he has developed the mindset that, even though he's extremely good at his job, he always needed to keep his head low and not step out of line ,lest he would get put out of his job for he knows how precarious his position is.

After meeting Arlene, he did become noticeably more relaxed and smiles more often

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The Cappuccins

They first met in the 1920s in New York ( yes another New York mention, but trust me, I have my reasons XD)

Tall ex-gangster husband and lawyer wifey™️

"I fear no man, but that, *points at Ann*, she frightens me." -Raf

A criminal and a lawyer, getting together? How did it happen? The power of love 💕💕💕

Ann

She comes from a wealthy English family known in a good amount of socialite circles

Quite graceful, crazy intelligent, has impeccable manners and an eloquent way of speaking

She decided to slowly distance away from her family when she was first starting of her career. Ever the ambitious woman she was, she wanted to try to stand independently and make a name for herself.

When she started dating Raffael, she was well-aware that he was part of a gang but she had already fallen for him and was willing to believe that he could change (and he did)

Raffael

Tall, intimidating and quite short-tempered, but a big softie when it comes to those he loves

Back then when he was a teenager he formed a street gang with some of his buddies to earn some money for himself and his parents (they weren't very well-off)

He then quit his gangster life to settle down with Ann for both her and his buddies' safety

He's actually softened a lot after getting married and even visits his parents time to time talk about his life.

From crime hardened gangster to uncle who just chills around in Hawaiian shirts

[tempural]

Started with this B/W sketchbook drawing. Got inspired by the look of the sketchbook spiral on the side, cuz it looked like film notches. Made me think of x-ray scans. Ended up doing the whole medical route on the final drawing.

Coloring method was mostly pressing the "invert" tool to turn the canvas black. Then painting red/yellow with gradient maps. And then drawing the glowing blue lines, as well as typing the "medical" text, on an "add" layer.

Spoilers and long head canons and unlicensed medical talk under the cut.

The text reads:

REVIEWED BY PONY EXPRESS AUTODOC MODEL-SCUMSUCK

PATIENT: CURLY

Near total body disruption from explosive decompression

Complete dermal vascular system collapse

Severe radiation poisoning

Hyperosmolar hyperglycemic state

Muscle and bone cachexia

Single eye rupture

Chronic obstructive pulmonary

Testicular rupture

Severe leukopenia

Itchiness and dry eye

RECOMMENDED TREATMENT

Administer intravenous therapy and catheter

Support neck and spine

Change bandages as supplies last

Orally administer paracetamol for pain

Turn and reposition patient every 2 hours to prevent bed sores

Create relaxing enviroment

Listen attentively to understand emotional state

Allow time for exercise and meditation

Encourage positive thinking

Brush teeth

Administer mouthwash

SIGNED OFF BY DOCTOR ANYA

Of course none of the treatment is actually good. In the game itself, you give him paracetamol (TYLENOL) for pain haha. So I thought I'd go along with the bad medical advice. Including that universal medical advice you get to do "exercise and meditation" if you are in a bad mood :)

I think I spent about as much time looking up the medical stuff (specifically things in relation to explosion damage and radiation damage - thinking of the Byford Dolphin Incident as well as Hisashi Ouchi) as I did with the coloring! We don't know what exactly happened with Curly, but I'd just guess with my lack of medical knowledge that the ship crashed, something exploded, and he was exposed to intense radiation.

Realistically he wouldn't be surviving with the level of medical care they have available on the ship, so I drew a couple things I thought would help him... namely the IV and catheter haha. Also thought it'd be a fun time to introduce my favorite headcanon to gift cute characters: the gift of genital nullification. Yes, I drew this mostly to show off my not-buff and no-pp headcanons!!!!

I like Curly with no skin, no muscle, no hair. It's ok if he had those before. I probably wouldn't draw him "recovered" with perfectly functioning prosthetic limbs and magically regrown vocal cords and sexy 8 pack abs. That's just me. He could get a wheelchair, perhaps some sort of eye controlled assisted communication like Stephen Hawking (but Curly doesn't seem to be able to control his jaw or cheek?).

Thinking about ~da dystopian future~ and what support he would even get? His job ain't gettin him anything :P He doesn't seem to be in the sort of society with universal healthcare, they'd drain his savings and then put him in a dark room with a nurse that turns him over once every 24 hours... Well, that's if they find him. I think he's staying frozen for 20 years and then melting like Walt Disney once the power runs out.

[eetherealgoddess]

ꨄSpiked with Loveꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Love Spell Au

❦You cast a love spell on your boss and fellow executives❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Spiked with Love

You frown as you sit in the vip section of the strip club, women all over four of the men you fancy. Of course, you know you have no right to be angry over the display towards either party. You just couldn’t help the drop of your stomach as you eye the woman sitting on Ran’s lap as he places the cigar between her lips, nor Rin pouring the bottle of alcohol into the woman's mouth, eyeing the way her tongue sticks out with lust. You also didn’t appreciate the display of Kazutora moving his lips against the stripper’s mouth with his fingers against her chin, nor the woman who’s allowing Sanzu to sniff cocaine off of her bare breasts. Fortunately, your boss never attends these kind of ordeals unless it’s for business so he treats everyone the same. You sat with your legs and arms crossed, pulling out your phone as you sigh, joint in one hand.

It’s a shame really, to be the only woman amongst many men and not one of them give you a second look. Nobody pays attention to you, nobody sees you in the way you want, nor even in an intimate way with no strings attached. No one has even flirted with you in a teasing manner as they do with other women. It was a good thing considering your position. It wouldn’t be smart to date such dangerous men who you could barely trust in the first place, but it’s not like you could help your feelings. You’ve always been into the not so ideal male. So as you sit, you scroll through the app, coming across a video that catches your eye. You get up from your spot and walk to the bathroom.

You watch the video after pressing play, eyeing the screen as it displayed a modern witch giving directions on how to complete a love ritual. Saving the video, you decide to make your way out of the club and have the driver take you to your own penthouse, guessing the men will be at the strip club for a while. When you make it home, you immediately make your way to your old altar that you hadn’t touched in years. Residue spices and herbs sat as well as the mini cauldron and old candle sticks. You set everything up the way she directed, making sure everything was set before lighting the candle. You closed your eyes, getting in the zone before repeating what was chanted. Once you finish, you place the written out names under your pillow and fall asleep.

The morning came and you hopped out of bed, showering and dressing in your usual Bonten attire. Once you walk out of the penthouse, you hop into the car, the driver taking you to Bonten’s headquarters. When you arrive, you walk through the doors and head straight to your boss’s office. When you walk in, you sit in your usual seat. Your boss gives the orders for the day, the meeting lasting about thirty minutes before he dismisses everyone.

“Y/n. You stay behind.”

You nod, though feeling confused as to what he needs you to stay after for. Once the room was empty besides you and Mikey, he eyed you for a while, seeming to study you. You shift in discomfort, not used to a gaze this long from him.

“You will work under Koko in his office. You are no longer needed for missions.” Your eyes widen.

“W-wait, Boss! Did I do something wrong?” You were completely distraught. Why is your position being lowered to a secretary?

“No.” Your eyebrow raises though you try to maintain a straight face.

“O-okay, Boss.” You didn’t want to trigger him by asking any questions considering he hates to be questioned.

He nods, dismissing you. You missed his gaze as you walked out of the room, confused and a little distraught.

Getting through the day as Kokonoi’s assistant, you huffed once you made it home in disappointment. Not only did you not see any changes with the men's behavior, you even got demoted.

Irritated and troubled, you pull up the dating app you downloaded for moments like these. A hookup will do you some good, allowing yourself to distract from everyday life. Once you found a guy to temporarily satiate your needs, you messaged him a straightforward offer. He complied and claimed to be on the way. As you changed out of your work clothes to something more casual, you heard a knock at your door.

With furrowed brows you opened it, raising them in surprise at the tiger tattooed man that showed up unannounced.

“Hey, Y/n.” He greets as he pushes past you, walking in. Your eyes widened, running in front of him and holding your hands up.

“Kazutora, what are you doing here?”

“Bored. Came to hang out.” He shrugged before plopping on your couch.

“Unannounced?” He smirked at you while propping his shoes on your coffee table, crossing his leg over.

“You know you like my company.” He chuckled, causing your face to warm up.

“It’s just not a good time, right now.” You said, scratching the back of your head as you anxiously eye the door, nervous of the embarrassment that will come if he figures out your plan for the night.

A knock interrupted your thoughts. You walk to the door, opening it and greeting the stranger before inviting him in. The tension in the air seemed to thicken not by your anxiety but by the aura seeming to emit from the energy of the room.

“Uh, yeah. This is…?” You eye the newcomer for his name.

“Sato Riku.” You nod with a sheepish smile.

You have no clue why you’re introducing him considering you have no reason to, but the way Kazutora is quiet with a stoic expression is making you feel awkward. Your eyes widened when he leaned forward and grabbed the remote. He turned the television on, scrolling through as if nothing had been said.

“Oh yeah, did that treatment for chlamydia work?” You gasped. Your ‘date’ looked at you in surprise. You’ve never been treated for chlamydia so you don’t know why he just said that.

“I’ve never…”

“You don’t have to tell me right now, you can just tell me later.” Kazutora shrugged. Sato eyed both of you before walking to the door.

“W-wait!” Before you could continue, he had already walked out of the door.

“What the fuck, Kazutora?” You exclaim angrily.

“Hey, I just saved you from putting a shrimp in your mouth. You should be thanking me.” He says before hopping up, smirking at you.

You couldn’t respond as he walked out of the front door. Sighing, you decide to change and go out for the night since your plan had been ruined. You refreshed your makeup and added a little bit of color to your eyeshadow. Once you were done, you left the penthouse. The driver takes you to a club not owned by the Haitani brothers since you wanted a different scene.

Red and purple lights flash as the sound of music causes the building to vibrate, the crowd buzzing with chatter and laughter as different people enjoy their time. You immediately head to the bar, ordering multiple shots and swallowing them down before walking to the dance floor. While you danced the night away a random male pulled you closer as he danced against you, hands on your hips behind you as his body pressed against yours. You turn your head slightly to see the man’s appearance.

Found my replacement for the night.

You turn your head back to the front as you grind your body back against the stranger, your arms raising as you close your eyes and sway your hips to the music. For a second you felt emptiness behind you causing you to turn around only for hands to replace themselves back on your hips. You internally shrug and continue to move your body against the man. A presence looms over you as you look up in surprise.

“Rin?” You eye the Haitani in front of you as you halt your movements.

“Having fun grinding on my brother?” Your eyes widen when you swiftly turn behind you, hands disappearing from your hips as you push him back with one hand.

“R-Ran?” You exclaim. He looks down at you with a smirk.

“Who knew you could move like that?” You feel warmth on your face as you look between the brothers.

“Where did that guy go?”

“What guy?” Ran questions while tilting his head. Your eyebrows furrow.

Am I imagining things? I literally looked at the guy behind me earlier, right? Have I been dancing on Ran the whole time?

Your eyes widen.

Holy shit! I’ve been dancing on Ran the whole time!

“U-uh, I…” You stammer over your words as realization hits that you’ve been grinding on one of the men you fancy, though it’s not necessarily a bad thing, it’s still nerve wracking. Especially when he’s your coworker.

“No need to feel embarrassed, Y/n” Ran’s fingers connect to your chin before gently lifting your face. His heavy lidded orbs meet your gaze, a look you’ve never had the pleasure of experiencing before except from the sidelines.

I…Is he coming onto me?

“I need to go!” You say before you push past him and rush out of the building, shoving through the crowd before you make your abrupt exit.

What the hell? Am I overthinking or did that just happen? Did he just flirt with me? And he let me dance on him!

It took you a moment to hit the realization that this change of behavior has to be from that spell you casted. You shook your head as you hopped into the seat, your driver leading you home.

There’s no way. There’s no freaking way that worked!

You know that spells can work but you didn’t think it would work for you. It just couldn’t.

When you reached your home you rushed inside, zoned out in thought the entire time you changed and wiped your makeup off. When you got in bed, you binged different videos about love spells and how to know if they worked. It’s obvious really but you just couldn’t accept how easy it was.

Morning rises and with only two hours of sleep you sluggishly dressed yourself as well as completed your morning routine. Walking out of the lobby you yawned as you entered the back seat. When you arrived at Bonten’s headquarters you immediately met with Kokonoi to receive your assignment for the shift, not required to attend the meetings now that you are no longer an executive. The thought still disappoints you.

Sitting at a desk, after you get done organizing some paperwork, you feel as though you’re being watched. Your body tenses as you look over your shoulder. You release a sigh when you see that Sanzu is sitting on the couch behind you.

“When did you get in here?” You mask your nervousness as you shift your attention away from the crazed beauty.

Sanzu’s presence always made you nervous. Honestly all of them do but he tops the rest considering he was the first one out of the executives to catch your eye. Clearly your type is pretty and toxic. Yes, you have terrible taste in men. You’ve accepted that fact. What you found particularly interesting about Sanzu is that he had two different versions of himself. One is quiet, sneaky, and reserved while the other is crazy, extroverted, and wild. The second one is usually when he’s on drugs. If the love spell were to work, you’re definitely curious on how it would show up from him.

You took the last sip of your coffee before clearing your thoughts to focus on your screen. You begin to feel drowsy before you break out in cold sweat. You breathe heavily as your eyebrows furrow while you try to gain control of your weakened limbs. Before the upper half of your body can completely fall on the keyboard, you're pulled out of your seat and placed on the couch.

Blue orbs and pink hair fill your blurry vision as you look at the culprit above you who uses his hand to palm your face, thumb connecting to your chin as he pulls your head to the side. He analyzes your face as well as shifting his gaze down your body. The only thing you could hear is your breathing as he traced along your collarbone with his other hand, thumb caressing your chin before moving to your forehead. It’s as if he's studying an experiment.

“S-Sanzu?” You whisper.

What the hell is going on with him? What’s going on with my body? Why can’t I move on my own? Did he drug me?

“Shh.” He places a finger over his mouth before he leans over, the hand on your face moving your head to the side as his fingers trace down your neck. If your body wasn’t drugged you would’ve jumped at the hot breath against your neck. You would’ve tensed at the lips connecting to your skin so gently that it almost felt unreal. All of a sudden a gun is pulled out as Sanzu faces the door behind him, aiming it at the newcomer.

“Oh don’t mind me.” Kazutora says with a grin while his hands rise in surrender. He walked closer until he stood above you right next to the couch.

“Get out.” Sanzu growls before placing the gun back in his holster. The tiger tattooed man leans over to observe your state. He releases a chuckle before straightening his back.

“Wow, what did you give her?”

“None of your business.” He says with his voice low before returning his gaze back to you, tracing your skin once more without a care for the third party who intruded.

“Boss needs us for a mission.” He states in response before placing his hand on your forehead, thumb caressing the skin.

If you weren’t so out of it you’d be giddy with joy that they’re finally paying attention to you. Unfortunately, you can barely feel your own body let alone anything more than that. You also wonder what drug is exactly in your system. Sanzu stands from the couch and walks out of the room, Kazutora following behind as he gives you one last look before shutting the door.

Assholes. I need to get up before I get in trouble for lazing around.

You ended up falling into a deep sleep. Only to wake up to dark eyes staring down at you. You gasp before swiftly sitting up, eyeing your boss in fear.

“S-sorry about this, Boss! I’ll get back to work right now!” You exclaim. Before you can hop off of the couch, Mikey places a hand on your shoulder.

“Come with me.”

He walks away before you can respond. You had no choice but to follow behind, nervous of what punishment you would receive from slacking. You follow him outside as you both step into the ride, the driver taking you both to Mikey’s estate. When you walk into the lobby, you head up the elevator and reach a spacious living space.

Is this Mikey’s home? Why are we here? Well, why did he bring me here?

He disappears for a little while before returning with a spare pair of clothes, you eyeing his own change of outfit.

“Change and come to my bedroom.” Your eyes widen at his bold statement. He walks away as you are frozen in your spot.

It feels like one of your fantasies has come true though you don’t know how to act. You change your clothes and lie your own outfit folded on the couch. You walk to the hall and search for his bedroom. When you reached the room, you paused while eyeing him and turned the other way on his bed.

Does he want me to hop in? I don’t want to if he doesn’t want that. Oh come on, Y/n stop playing stupid why else would he ask you to come in here? To be fair he’s never requested something like this so I don’t know what he wants.

He turns to face you and pulls the comforter up as if inviting you into that spot. You tense once more before you comply with your Boss’s demands. You slowly climb into the bed as if to give him time to correct you. Once you get comfortable, you lie on your back and stare at the ceiling, ignoring the burning gaze from beside you.

You turn in the opposite direction, facing the door and lying in the fetal position as you try to calm your pounding heart. You hold back a gasp as you feel an arm slither around your waist. His warm body closes in behind you as you're pulled back against his chest.

Is… Is Mikey spooning me right now?

“Y/n.” He whispers. “Look at me.” You bite your lip before slowly turning on your back, Mikey keeping his hold on you as you keep your gaze on the ceiling.

A hand places itself on your chin before turning your attention to him. You gaze at the red hue covering his face as his orbs bore into yours. You watch as his eyes shift to your lips before he leans in. You stay frozen in your spot while his lips meet yours.

Fuck it.

You lean into the kiss, moving your lips against his as your eyelids flutter shut. The grip on your face tightens before he slowly climbs on top of you, resting his body in between your legs as your fingers massage his head, slightly pulling him closer as he props your legs up to crouch above you in missionary position.

He disconnects your lips before nuzzling his face between your shoulder, lips lapping onto your neck before giving the skin a long lick. He closes his mouth around the dermis and sucks a bruise onto the surface. You breathe heavily as his hands move down to your covered breasts, groping the mounds as he rutts himself against you. The bulge makes contact with your vulva through the fabric. He quietly moans as you grind against him eagerly, heat rising as all the sensations sensitize you to every contact your skin makes. Suddenly he pulls back and stares down at you while breathing heavily. You gaze at him while catching your breath.

“Get out.” He says before hopping off of you.

Your eyebrows furrow in concern and confusion.

Did I do something wrong? Did I make him uncomfortable?

You don’t hesitate to jump out of the bed and rush out of the room, tears forming from embarrassment and rejection.

Shit.

You quickly change back into your suit and head out of the building. Unfortunately, your driver is off duty so you grab the nearest taxi that’s out late at night. You ride home quietly, sulking in the backseat as you reach your penthouse. When you get inside you undress, hopping into the shower to scrub yourself harshly.

Why did he switch up like that? I hope I didn’t do anything wrong. This is so fucking humiliating.

You determined that even though the love spell worked, because they didn’t even have feelings for you in the first place, it’s all fake. None of it is real. None of the attention or affection are real. When you finished with your shower you got into bed and covered yourself with blankets, wishing you could disappear.

The next day you were rudely woken up by someone pulling your curtains open.

“Rise and shine.” Rin says as you groan in response. He snatches your blankets off causing you to shriek. You sit up and eye the brothers, Ran leaning against your doorway while Rin stands by your bed.

“What the hell are you two doing in my house?”

“You didn’t show up to work.” Rin crossed his arms. “Guess you were just being lazy.”

“What? It’s not ti-.” You cut yourself off when you eye your phone’s clock, displaying that your sleep surpassed the morning and afternoon.

Damn. I was knocked out for so long.

“You’re lucky Boss let it go.” Rin states.

“Get dressed.” Ran says. One of your eyebrows raises.

“For what?”

“We’re going out tonight.”

“Where?”

“Meeting the others at one of our clubs.” The others?

“So come on!” Rin says impatiently before they leave you in your bedroom.

By the time you finished getting ready, night fell as the sun disappeared. All three of you walk to the car, Ran holds the door open for you while you climb into your seat. Once you reached the club you all walked to the designated vip section, greeted by Kazutora while Sanzu sniffed a line of cocaine.

What you weren’t expecting was to see Mikey sitting on one of the accent chairs. Your face warmths from the memory of last night, recollecting your heated make out session before you felt shame rise from how it ended. You internally shake your head before walking to your own seat.

“Y/n.”

You look up at your boss who motions for you to come over. Fear stricken by what he might do to you for last night, you comply. Your eyebrows furrow when he points at his lap.

“Sit.” You freeze in disbelief.

“A-are you sure, Boss?” His expression stays stoic.

“You questioning me?” You immediately shake your head before sitting on his lap feeling uneasy by the stares you’re receiving. Everyone turns their attention back to what they’re doing.

“You’re such a distraction.” He whispers before one of his arms rest around your waist. His fingers grip your hip as your grip on your own hands tighten. His other hand grabs the bottom of your face and forces you to look at him.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” A red hue covers his face as his dark eyes glisten in the light. He gives you a longing gaze before it turns cold. You flinch when his fingers dig into your thigh as well as the tightening grip on your face.

“I want to kill you.” Your breath hitched.

“You’re consuming me, Y/n. You’re distracting my men.” He whispers.

“B-boss?” You breathe out.

“If you disappear, there would be nothing to think about.” His hand moves to your neck, immediately squeezing your throat shut. Your eyes widen as you grip his wrist.

“M-Mik… Boss wait!” You stammer, eyes shifting to the others who watch the display with crossed legs and glasses, cigars, or a blunt to their lips. Nobody but members of Bonten sat in the room, the strippers and waiters out of sight.

“Should I, Y/n? Should I kill you right now so I can get you out of my head?” His grip becomes unbearable as you struggle to breathe. Your legs shift before you begin to scratch the skin on his arms. Tears fall before you pull an arm back and punch his face. You push yourself off the chair, dropping to the floor as you catch your breath. You look up at Mikey with wide eyes while his face is turned to the side. The room is quiet besides the faint music that plays while you cough and wipe your eyes.

You shakily stand from your position on the floor before glancing around the room at the executives who stare at you with nothingness as their expressions, cold and bare of any emotion.

What the fuck?

“You know, I had already fallen for you.” His face is covered by his platinum hair as he looks down, hands on the chair’s arms. “You didn’t need the spell, Y/n.”

Your eyes widen.

How did he know? The only way they would have noticed anything was the video saved on my phone or my altar. Was it when Kazutora or the Haitani brothers came into my place?

“I thought if I ignored it, then it would go away.” One of his hands rub his face. “Then you made it worse.”

The door opens and the guards walk in with decapitated heads that are hanging from their hair. You eye the faces closely in confusion before they’re thrown on the ground, some rolling in front of you. You count five different men, including the man you remembered as Sato and the mystery man you danced on. Although you’ve seen and have caused death, there was something very disturbing about seeing the detached heads of your past flings.

“Disgusting. You’ve driven the King insane.” Sanzu hissed before standing from his seat and taking position next to Mikey’s chair.

“Why is that look on your face?” Ran questions while taking a hit of the cigar. “Why do you look so uneasy?”

“This is what you wanted isn’t it?” Rin says before he downs a shot and leans over, resting his arms against his legs.

Kazutora takes a hit of the blunt before he ashes it against the ashtray, pulling back as he leaned into the couch with a leg crossed over. “Come on, Y/n. Don’t give us that look. We’re just showing you what you made us do.”

You look at all of them with shock and uneasiness, disturbed by their actions though a little flattered that they thought of you this much. After all, your feelings hadn’t gone away even though you feel you are in danger. This isn’t exactly what you had in mind. Especially with how they stare at you like you’re a piece of meat in the lion’s den.

Your arms are grabbed by the guards as you’re forced out of the room, their eyes lingering on you all the while you allow the men to take you out of the tense section. Outside of the door, you meet eyes with Kokonoi who walks beside you as you’re released and forced to walk towards the exit.

“Koko, what’s going on?” You question with a trembling voice.

“I’m afraid you’ve been fired, Y/n. As of right now you’ve been labeled a traitor and you’ve been ordered to reside in one of the torture rooms for the time being.”

“Are they gonna kill me?” You gasp.

“No.”

“What do you mean? Then what’s gonna happen to me?” You question eagerly.

He sighs. “I mean that they’re planning to keep you locked up for an extended amount of time.”

“Th-They’re holding me captive? What? Why?”

One of the guards open the door for Kokonoi before cuffing your wrists and forcing you to climb into the car.

“The only thing I know is that they seem to have a deep infatuation with you. You might not ever get to see the light of day again, Y/n. I’m sorry.”

You could only stare into space with a look of concern as you try not to have a panic attack. Your eyes shift outside the window as the driver pulls off towards the destination.

[nthspecialll]

The softening of a badass

Tilly Jackson's character profile on her fanwiki describes her personality as being considered sweet and innocent [..] and is well-liked." which I feel like might be a bit misleading to how she actually is and what her mindset is.

I think the best way to describe her is to start with the girl trio we normally see her with. Mary-beth is this very happy, gulliable and positive person while Karen is the exact opposite, being a pesimist and outspoken, Tilly lays perfectly in the middle of those two.

Tilly allows herself to dream, and encourages others to as well, such as telling Mary-Beth to become an author, but she isn't one to plant false hopes and dreams of things she actually doesn't believe can happen. This can be seen in another camp interaction with Mary-beth where they talk about going to the moon, and while Mary-Beth happily talks about wanting to go there Tilly gets more realistic and sarcastically says "you planning on sprouting wings and flying?" to which Mary-beth answers "oh Tilly you are just so sensible," Tilly sighs and answers "that is me, little miss sensible."

A similar thing can be seen with Kieran when he is tied up, she is willing to give him water but when he asks for a pair of dry shoes she asks "sure, some champagne too?"

She can be sweet, sure, such as joking with Mary-beth when Sean proposes to them or asking to borrow a romance book, dancing with Karen but there ain't a scene where I would describe her as innocent. She is aware of the danger she is in just being down south, she handles a shutgun just fine and she stays and saves Jack when the rest of the gang is gone.

There is also the fact that she believed in Dutch almost up until the very end, she looked up to Dutch in chapter 5, asking him for help, she believed Susan was right in shooting Molly and while she admits being scared, she did not run though she had plenty of options. Mary-Beth, Karen and Reverend, she could have gone with them, but she didn't. She held her ground.