#i'm using this as an opportunity to test new brushes

[hoshidensha]

Looptober / Melotober Day 2: Gym Leader + Herbs

Gonna admit I've just barely started SwSh but Galar region has a soft spot in my heart. Also Milo is a cutieeee

[incognit0slut]

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3| PART 4

Behind Closed Doors 4

Your frustration over his broken promise melts away as soon as he calls, and you find yourself unexpectedly drawn to his voice, more than you anticipated.

Warnings: (18+, MDNI) Phone sex, mutual (and guided) masturbation, dirty talk ~4.7k words

A/n: this is just me wishing he was on quinn😔 anyway enjoy part 4, this mini series is not dead (i don’t even know how long it will be but let’s just celebrate that I’m finally updating)

All men do is lie, you thought as you flopped onto your bed.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault—but you weren’t in the mood to be reasonable. You remembered that car ride vividly. He had promised you more time together, a moment to finally be alone. Instead, what did you get? A new case, then another, and amidst all the chaos and dodging bullets (literally and metaphorically), you two somehow managed to drift apart.

The past few weeks had been the busiest since you started working at the BAU, and that was saying a lot, considering there was never really a moment of peace when you worked for the government. But this time was different, it seemed even more chaotic than usual. Every time you thought of bringing up the conversation with him—or maybe sneak in a little make-out session—something urgent would come up. 

There was never the right time, or the right moment. It felt as if the universe had other plans for you, and none of them involved the two of you getting a moment alone. And before you knew it, you were caught in this maddening cycle of missed opportunities, and the worst thing was, you were sexually frustrated.

This time, you had no one else to blame but him. Ever since he came into the picture, your carefully maintained self-control had started to slip, and now, despite your best efforts, you couldn’t ignore the growing need between your legs. It was aching, throbbing, and even the thought of him was making you hot and restless.

How did he manage to do that? He wasn’t even trying. There was nothing overtly seductive in the way he moved or spoke, and yet every glance, every accidental touch, seemed to affect you. Spencer. Just his name made your breath hitch, your body betraying you. You weren’t proud to admit this, but the mere thought of his fingers brushing your skin had you feeling that first rush of arousal slipping into your panties.

You huffed, considering digging out your pink silicone toy hidden somewhere in your drawer. And while you were contemplating this, knowing it had been a while since you last used it because nothing could compare to the feeling of his touch now, your phone on the bedside table rang.

Maybe the universe was really testing you, because his name flashed across the screen and it took a lot of self-control for you not to pick up on the first ring and demand him to fuck you right there and then, which sounded too crass when you weren’t in the middle of straddling his lap like the last time. So instead, you decided to wait until the sixth ring before you answered with a curt, “Hey.”

There was a pause, then a sigh. “You’re mad at me.”

Could he tell? Of course, he could. He always had an uncanny ability to read you, even over the phone. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“I can almost see you rolling your eyes.”

“I never roll my eyes,” you shot back.

“You rolled your eyes last week when Luke tried to tell us that his dog could sniff out bodies better than our trained ones.”

You suppressed a smile, surprised that he even noticed you giving Luke a once-over at that particular moment. “That was because his dog chases its tail more than it chases leads.”

"And I'm not worthy of an eye roll?"

“Honestly, you deserve more than an eye roll,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

"So you are mad,” he stated, growing quiet for a while. “I’m sorry.”

And now you felt bad. You ran a hand through your hair, trying to clear your thoughts. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel any less better.”

You felt a pang of guilt as you stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t exactly fair to blame him. Serial killers, unfortunately, didn’t come with a schedule, and now Spencer was already on his leave. You recalled the excitement in his voice when he told you about the seminars Emily had arranged for him to teach. He had spoken with an enthusiasm you hadn’t heard in a long time, his eyes practically lighting up every time he mentioned it.

How could you be upset about that?

"I'm not... mad.”

There was a slight teasing note in his voice as he replied, "Just annoyed then?"

You held back a smile. "Maybe a little."

“Anything I can do to help with that?” His voice softened through the phone. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

Your thoughts immediately went to the sticky situation between your legs, and you felt a flush of embarrassment. Technically, he could help with that. But could you say that? Should you? 

"I don’t know, depends on what you have in mind,” you replied, trying to steer your mind away from the direction it was heading. There was a pause, a silence that hung in the air as he carefully considered his next words.

"I could… start by telling you how much I miss you?”

Now that, you didn’t expect. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. Spencer had never really acknowledged his feelings with words when his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it out loud made the emotions between you feel undeniably real. It was as if his words shattered whatever platonic friendship the two of you had built over the past years.

Although you knew your friendship had fundamentally changed the moment he had you pinned on the desk that fine afternoon, it didn’t stop you from questioning about where you truly stood.

"You miss the idea of me," you corrected him, unable to resist yourself.

“You know that’s not true,” he replied gently.

“Do I?”

“Yes, you know me better than that,” he insisted. “You’re a great profiler, you can tell if I’m not being honest.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, despite trying to stay mad at him. "You hate being profiled.”

"That was before I realized how useful your skills are in deciphering my feelings.”

“You know I’d rather you tell me how you feel.”

“I did, I miss you, and you chose not to believe me.”

Your cheeks actually ached from smiling too much. You couldn’t help but feel a warm, tingling sensation spread through you. “Fine,” you sighed, finally giving in. “I believe you.”

“And?”

You rolled onto your side. “And what?”

“Do you not miss my absence at work?”

“Well…”

“Well?” He prompted.

Now how could you tell him you missed more than just his presence? How could you admit that you missed the way he made you feel, the way his breath felt hot against your skin, without sounding obvious or too needy? Because you missed everything about him. His hands, his lips, his tongue—oh dear god, his tongue.

Spencer suddenly called out your name, and you forced yourself to focus, feeling your heartbeat quicken as you cleared your throat.

“Yes, I—I miss you,” you finally admitted.

There was a pause, then his voice came through, lighter, teasing. “Why do you sound like that?”

“…like what?”

“Like you’re out of breath.”

You gripped the sheets tightly, the fabric bunching under your fingers. How could you even begin to explain this to him now that he was onto you? You felt like you were on the verge of a full-blown emotional meltdown. God, if he knew how many times you’d replayed every kiss, every touch, in your mind, he’d never let you live it down.

It was almost laughable, really. Here you were, trying to keep it together, and failing miserably. “It’s just… I really, really miss you.”

“You really miss me? Are you trying to say something?”

You hesitated, your mind scrambling for the right words without revealing too much. “No…?”

“Mhm,” he replied, clearly unconvinced. “You’re not telling me everything.”

You gripped the phone tighter. “I’m just saying... It's hard without you here. You know, in every way.”

“In every way?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling both embarrassed and mortified. “I just... I miss how you make me feel. Physically.”

“Physically?” he pressed. “Can you elaborate?”

“I’m... you know, I’ve been... missing certain things. Certain... activities.”

“Certain activities,” he repeated your words once again. It was then that you realized he was teasing you, clearly enjoying your discomfort a little too much. “You mean like... talking?”

“No. More like... the other stuff we do when we’re alone.”

"I don't understand."

At that point, your embarrassment was gnawing at you. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. “God, Spencer, don’t make me say it,” you groaned, burying your face in your pillow.

“Come on, I need a little more than that.” He sounded both amused and curious. “I’m just making sure I understand you right.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you muttered into the pillow, your voice muffled but still clear enough for him to hear.

“Actually, I don’t think I do. You could be missing so many things, you have to help me out here.”

You turned your head to the side, exasperation coloring your tone. “Spencer…”

"Yes?" he responded innocently.

"You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

"I find precise communication to be very important.”

You let out a groan, feeling the last of your restraint crumble. “Alright! Fine!” you snapped. “I’m horny, okay? And it’s all your fault!”

His laughter rang through the phone, and you could almost see the grin spreading across his face. “My fault?"

"Yes! I feel like a deprived, horny teenager here, and I just…”

You trailed off, hardly believing you had actually said that out loud. The realization hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you wished you could take it back. There was a pause that seemed to stretch on forever and you wondered if you had gone too far.

He finally broke the silence, breathing out your name in a way that made your skin tingle. "You could've told me from the start."

You could, but you’d rather not.

"I didn't want to sound desperate."

"You can be desperate with me,” he said softly. “Just say the word and I’ll give you anything you want.”

If there was one thing Spencer was good at, it was getting under your skin. He really shouldn’t be saying those words, not now, not when it was making you crave him even more. You swallowed, feeling a tightness in your chest, a knot in your stomach. The part of you that always played it safe wanted to retract, to laugh it off as a joke. But then there was that other part, the part that craved his attention, the part that was tired of holding back.

“Tell me, what do you want now?”

You took a deep breath and laid on your back, the words catching in your throat. You felt your pulse quicken.

“I want… you.”

“Tell me how you want me.”

Your fingers trailed over the sheets, your touch light as you imagined it was him beneath your fingertips. “Spencer…”

“Come on,” he pressed. “Tell me.”

You paused, your heart pounding in your chest. You could almost imagine him right in front of you, staring at you with those beautiful brown eyes that always managed to make you melt, coaxing words from you that you barely dared to think, let alone speak.

Just say it. He's waiting. He wants to hear it.

Your hand began to move.

“I… I want your hands on me.”

“Where do you want my hands?”

“Everywhere,” you whispered, your fingers grazing your body as if they were his. You closed your eyes.

“Everywhere?”

You found yourself nodding even though he couldn’t see you.

“On my hips…”

Your hand danced across your hips.

“My stomach…”

Your palm slipped under your shirt, moving slowly up your abdomen, feeling the warmth of your own touch and wishing it was his.

“Between my thighs…”

You paused at the hem of your panties, the only barrier beneath your shirt, hesitating as a flush of warmth spread through you. The line was silent for a moment, save for the sound of his breathing—a soft, heavy rhythm that matched the pounding of your own heart.

“Where else do you want me?”

Your fingers dipped inside the fabric. “I want you lower…”

“Tell me exactly where.”

“Where I’m most sensitive,” you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them.  Your thighs instinctively squeezed together, hips rolling gently as your free hand began to drift south. “Spencer… please…”

“Are you touching yourself?”

“I…”

“Are you?”

“No…”

“Do you want to touch yourself?”

You licked your lips, your breath coming faster. “Maybe.”

“Then do it, no one’s stopping you.”

You hesitated, the reality of the situation sinking in. You couldn’t believe this was happening, that you were having this conversation with him. "This feels so naughty.”

"Naughty can be nice, though, right?" he assured you. "Don't think about it too much. It’s just you and me.”

There really was something about his voice, the way it effortlessly wrapped around you—smooth, coaxing, almost hypnotic. Despite the hesitation that tugged at your mind, your hand began to move lower, and your legs parting involuntarily. A soft gasp escaped your lips when your hand flew right to your pussy, fingers quickly tracing the length of your folds. You were already wet, and you began to spread your arousal towards your clit.

“Spencer…” you whined, feeling the sudden rush of sensations.

“Keep going,” he urged. “Tell me what you feel.”

You closed your eyes. “It feels… good…”

“Describe it to me.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to find the words through the haze of pleasure. “It’s warm and wet… and…”

And you wished he was the one touching you.

You let your mind drift to your fantasy. You imagined it was his fingers circling your clit. You imagined his lips against yours, the way they would move together. You imagined him whispering these words right in front of you, his eyes locked on yours as you writhed beneath him. The fantasy felt so vivid that for a moment, you could almost feel his weight pressing down on you, his presence enveloping you completely.

Your imagination urged you to move faster, but you felt limited by the fabric in the way. You called out his name. “Can I… can I take my, um, underwear off?”

You could almost hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “Of course you can.”

You put your phone down, and with trembling fingers, you slid the fabric down your legs. You discarded them quickly and turned the call to speaker before you settled back on the bed. Your hand returned to your body, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin. You parted your legs even wider, and as your fingers found their rhythm, a moan escaped you.

“Better?”

You sighed in relief as you continued to rub your clit. “So much better.”

“Keep it slow, okay? We don’t want to rush.”

His voice was low and soothing, and you couldn’t believe how just by his voice he had gotten you so worked up.

“Now press a little harder.” You complied, applying a bit more pressure on your clit. "Right there. Do you feel that?"

"Yes," you gasped, your back slightly arching off the bed.

“I wish I could see you right now," he murmured. “I'd kiss you where you're touching.”

You let your imagination take over. You pictured him with his head right between your thighs, his eyes locked on yours with those intense, pretty eyes. You imagined his mouth moving over your clit, sucking gently while his fingers explored between your folds. The thought was so vivid, so real, that you could almost feel his warm breath against your skin.

The mental image of him looking up at you was almost too much to bear. “Spencer…”

"Keep going. Are your fingers wet?" You could simply moan back a reply, not trusting your own voice. “Now slowly slide in one. Can you do that for me?”

You did as he said, sliding a finger into your wetness. You could feel how tight you were, the slick warmth of your arousal enveloping your skin. You looked down between your legs and watched as you pleased yourself. It wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar sight. You had done this countless times before, but never with the voice of a man guiding you, especially Spencer—the last person you’d imagine doing this with.

Yet look at how much effect he had on you.

"You're quiet," his voice suddenly came through. "Are you still with me?"

"Yes," you managed to whisper. "It's just... a lot."

"In a good way, I hope?"

“Very good,” you assured him.

You could practically picture the corner of his lips twitching into a proud smile. “Good,” he recited. “Now try adding another finger.”

You couldn't help a moan escaping your lips as you pushed in your middle finger, the sound louder than you intended.

"How does that feel?"

"Full," you breathed out, adjusting to the sensation.

“Yeah? I bet you’re so tight.”

You were, awfully so. Your walls clenched around your fingers, almost swallowing them as you started to move them in a steady rhythm. The pleasure built in your lower stomach, a warm, coiling tension that made you desperate for more. You needed his voice, you craved his guidance, even from afar.

“Spence…” you whined. “Keep talking, please.”

“You want me to describe how I’d touch you if I were there?”

You moaned in response, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily, urging him to continue.

“If I were there,” he began, his voice low, “I’d start by kissing you slowly.”

You could almost feel it, his lips on yours, his tongue probing inside your mouth.

“I’d move lower,” he continued. “Kiss your neck, your collarbone… while my fingers would move along your hips, your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you need me most.”

You whimpered, your fingers moving faster as you followed his vivid description, imagining his touch guiding you.

“I’d tease you, brush my fingers right at your entrance,” he whispered. “Then, I’d slip them inside you, just like you’re doing now.”

Your breaths came in short gasps.

“I’d spread your legs wide,” he continued again, and you heard a faint rustling noise in the background. “I’d move my fingers in… and… out...”

Your legs fell further apart.

“I’d curl my fingers the same way I did that day,” he went on. “Do you remember?”

How could you not? It never truly left your mind. You could picture that day clearly, the feeling of his fingers and mouth working on your sensitive spot seemed to linger in your memory.

“I’d do the same thing that you like,” he proceeded, and you focused on his voice. “I’d lean in close… licking you… sucking you.”

You moaned loudly as the image of his mouth on your clit flashed through your mind. You could almost feel the way he would sloppily lap at you, drinking in every drop of your arousal with each eager flick of his tongue.

“Go faster for me,” he urged. “I-I want to hear how wet you are.”

You followed his words, and the slick sounds of your arousal filled the quiet around you as you imagined him there, his fingers replacing yours. You could hear more noise through the line, the subtle rustle of clothes moving, the faint sound of his breathing growing heavier before he let out a low grunt.

“You make the prettiest sounds,” he breathed out. “Now add another finger.”

Your eyes narrowed into a frown, trying to slip a third finger in but the stretch was too intense for you to continue. “I-I can’t.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed. “Just take it slow. Try to relax.”

You took a deep breath, trying to follow his instructions. You slowly eased in another finger, feeling the awkward stretch but the initial discomfort quickly faded into a deeper pleasure, and you moaned softly.

“Oh, fuck.”

“There you go,” he encouraged. “Feel that? Feel how full you are?”

You hummed a reply.

“That’s how I want you to feel when I’m finally inside you.”

A whine left your lips. In your head, you saw him, his body poised above yours, his cock sliding smoothly into you. You imagined the slick, rhythmic motion, the way each thrust would fill you, stretching you, overwhelming you. You cried out a filthy moan at the thought, unabashed and desperate, as you began to pump your fingers inside your cunt.

“Push deeper for me… I know you can take it.”

You gasped, pushing your fingers as deep as they could go. “I can’t… I need… oh…”

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You need more. You need me inside you, don’t you?”

“Spencer, please…” you begged, your voice breaking into desperate, choked sobs.

“You want that? You want to feel me stretch you?”

“Yes, yes…” you managed to moan out, your movements became more desperate.

“God, you’d be so tight around me… I’d have your legs spread wide so I… I-I could see how perfect you’d take me.”

You could almost feel his hands on your hips, his body pressing against yours, filling you completely. Your fingers moved frantically, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you felt the tension building to an unbearable peak.

“You’d pull me closer, wouldn’t you? You’d ask for more, like you always do, and I’d give it to you,” he promised. “I’d give it to you so hard… s-so deep…”

And that was when you heard it—the unmistakable sound of wetness, like skin sliding over slick, damp skin. The sound was filthy, making your pulse race as you wondered what he might be doing on the other end of the line. Your voice trembled as you slowly asked him, “Spence, are you…?”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end before he let out a soft, almost sheepish laugh, as if you had caught him red-handed. “I… yeah,” he admitted, his voice breathless and strained. "Do you know how hard it is not to when listening to your voice?"

Your fingers subconsciously quickened at his confession, their movements becoming more urgent as you imagined him laying on his own bed, hand wrapped around his cock. You bit your lip to stifle your moans as you whispered, “Tell me what you’re doing.”

His breathing grew ragged, his words coming in clipped bursts. “I’m… I’m touching myself…”

You tried to focus on his voice, but the sound of his sloppy strokes began to echo louder. “Tell me more.”

“I’m… I’m rubbing… my fingers over the head,” he gasped, and you curled your fingers deeper, using your palm to grind against your clit. The way he sounded so lost in his pleasure, unable to hold back, had you imagining him stroking himself. You pictured yourself doing it for him, remembering how it felt that day when you had his cock in your hand—the weight, the warmth, the way he looked at you through intense eyes.

Your breathing grew heavier, louder, and his voice cracked with a strained moan as he whispered, “Can you lower your phone?”

You fumbled with the device, bringing it closer to where your fingers worked tirelessly between your legs. “Like this?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, the sound of his strokes growing faster and more urgent. “You sound so perfect.”

You let out a soft cry, your fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt frantically as you imagined him watching you, listening to every sound you made. The wet, slick noises filled the room, so intense and filthy. You looked down to see your juices spilling over your fingers, soaking the sheets beneath you. The sheer sound of it was enough to drive him crazy.

“I—f-faster, please,” he panted into the phone. “I need you to go faster.”

Your eyes widened for a moment as the desperate plea slipped from his lips. But you didn’t have the mental space to think about it. Your focus was solely on reaching your release as you ultimately sped up your pace. Your body began to tighten up, feeling so much pressure and pleasure building up every time your fingertips hit that deep spot inside you.

"Oh—fuck!” You exhaled sharply as the familiar sensation took over you. “I’m cumming I’m cumming I’m cumming—”

With a cry that was both a sob and a shout, your pussy fluttered around your fingers. Your orgasm ripped through you without warning, sending shockwaves of intense pleasure through your body as you gasped and shuddered. Your voice escaped in broken moans and whines, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“Spencer… oh, God, Spencer…”

The sound of your climax drove him to his own release. His breath hitched, his movements faltering as he let out a harsh sound from his throat. It was raw and unrestrained, downright filthy, and you listened intently, your fingers slipping out only to circle and rub your clit, drawing out the final waves of your orgasm.

Finally, when you couldn’t take it anymore, your hand fell away, and you lay there, breathing heavily, your body relaxing into the bed. Your room was quiet afterward, the only sound coming from was the sound of your own breathing. Then you heard him calling out your name, checking in. But through the post-orgasmic bliss, all you could manage in response was a giggle.

“You’re… laughing?” He mused. “Should I be concerned?”

“No, no,” you replied, still catching your breath, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. “It’s just… I can’t believe we did that.”

A gentle laugh escaped his lips, a warm, soothing sound that calmed your racing heart. "Did you like it?"

You liked it a lot. "Can’t say that I didn’t.”

"So I take it you're not mad at me anymore?"

You let out a soft, contented sigh. “I wasn’t even that mad to begin with. Just… frustrated,” you confessed. “But I think we handled that pretty well.”

“Maybe a little too well,” he agreed softly. “I can't believe I need to take a shower this late.”

You looked down between your legs at his words, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you as you noticed the patch of wetness on your bed. It wasn't small—it spread across the fabric in a noticeable, damp stain. “Uh, yeah,” you admitted with a nervous laugh. “I also need to change my sheets.”

Then you heard a low, almost pained groan from his end of the line.

“What?”

“It’s just…” He paused, and you could almost hear him struggling to find the right words. "I'm now picturing you on your bed."

"Isn't that what you've been doing?"

"Well, yes, but now it's… different."

You couldn't help the amused grin that spread across your face. "Different how?"

"Let's just say the image in my mind is a lot more detailed now and it's not helping me calm down."

A burst of laughter erupted from your chest as you gripped your phone closer to you. “Is this your way of blaming me because you still have a hard-on?” you taunted. “I mean, I’m simply stating the facts.”

“But you’re painting a picture in my head.”

“Of me drenching the sheets just by hearing your voice?”

He made a low, strained sound. “Stop.”

“I can send you a picture if you like,” you offered slyly. “Help you visualize it better.”

There was a moment of stunned silence on his end before he finally muttered, “You shouldn’t.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t.”

“But if you insist…”

You laughed softly. “Good night, Spencer.”

“Wait—You’re hanging up?”

“Yep,” you said cheerfully. “I thought you needed a shower.”

He made another frustrated sound, somewhere between a groan and a sigh, before reluctantly agreeing. “Fine, fine. Good night.”

And that was it. You ended the call with a satisfied smile. But as you stared at your phone, a rush of thoughts began to swirl through your mind. You were well aware of the potential risks of what you were about to do—how it could be traced back to you. You could almost hear Penelope lecturing you about online security and the dangers of leaving a digital footprint.

But when your mind kept circling back to Spencer—Spencer’s breathless voice, Spencer’s prominent veins on his hands, Spencer with a freaking hard-on in his bed—it was hard to think rationally. Before you could stop yourself, you propped your phone on your pillow and posed for the camera. Legs spread wide, your nipples pressing against your shirt, a flirtatious smile playing on your lips. The shot looked like it came out of a porno movie. You quickly sent it to him.

It took exactly 7 seconds before your phone rang again.

“Yes, Spencer?” you answered, trying to sound innocent.

You heard shuffling and a muffled grunt, and then, faintly, the rustling of fabric. It sounded like he was fumbling with his phone, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the frustration in his voice.

“How do I turn this into video call again?”

[dotster001]

When You Escape Him, Staff

Summary: Yandere staff x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you.

CW: yandere content, Stockholm syndrome, blackmailing, potentially ooc?, the void, implied previous injury,

A/N: It's finally finished! There are some spin off stories coming but they will not be weekly updates. I'll write them when I write them. Also, I know I said that I'd put out a poll for what series would get weekly updates, but I've gotten so many questions about Elder God, that I'm gonna do that one. Probably won't be Sunday's, but whenever I release the next part will start the cycle.

Heartslaybul Savannaclaw Octavinelle Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Diasomnia Non NRC

Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.

"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."

You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.

Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own.

And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.

In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.

To this day, you had no idea how you had escaped. But you had, and you'd been able to smuggle yourselves off the island and far away.

Your son had started to display signs of magical ability when he was three. You hoped it stayed a miniscule amount, considering you'd heard some people were just magic sensitive.

By the time he was eight, you realized you were not going to be lucky. By the time he turned twelve, you were burning the flyers that the dark mirror magically sent out. By sixteen, you and your son were full on panicking about the scouts that might come by to observe him, and the acceptance letter that would show up at the house.

It was a completely normal day. You'd gone to pick up your son from school, when his teacher excitedly came out to meet you.

“I have amazing news! A representative from NRC came today to test a few of our students!”

You froze.

“S/N was one of the one's they called, and he's been being tested for hours now! He's a shoe in! You must be so proud!”

You nodded rigidly, a stiff smile on your face.

She led you inside, and to one of the teacher conference rooms. Up to this point, you knew there was a chance it wasn't him. If it was anyone else, you could bargain with them.

The door opened, and your hopes were dashed.

“Ah! Welcome, welcome! I was just telling our precious chick that he has a place waiting for him among the students of our esteemed academy! He's almost as powerful as his papa! I couldn't be prouder!” At the last statement, Crowley brushed away an invisible tear.

“And I told him that I have no interest,” your son muttered angrily as he stared down at the table.

Crowley didn't react to what sounded like not the first refusal your son had given, and patted his lap excitedly.

As though everything was normal and you'd just go back to the nest.

“S/N,” you said coldly, calling him to your side. It wasn't like you were alone. If you and your son ran, shouting along the way, surely one of the teachers would hear you and get help. Your son stood to walk over to you.

It happened in seconds. His golden eyes flashed in mild irritation, and by the time you reacted he had already entered your space, and hoisted you over his shoulders.

“I consider myself a very magnanimous person, but you are pressing my patience.”

You shouted obscenities at him, trying to fight your way out of his grip, but to no avail.

“Stop squirming, or I will have to clip your wings-”

“Leave them alone!” Your son shot a fire spell at Crowley. A field around him blocked it, but he gazed at his son in parental pride.

“Just like his papa!”

“YOU'RE NOT MY PAPA!” He screamed, a blaze of fire exploding from around him.

It wasn't his fault he'd lost control. But you had a brief moment where you realized that without the field around Crowley, that would have killed you. As it was, the room was ablaze, and quickly growing out of control, causing your son to forget his anger, and panic.

Crowley sighed, and set you down. He summoned his staff, and quickly doused the fire. Then he turned to your son.

“I am a very generous man. I can pay for the damages done to the school. Which, judging by what I am seeing, is extensive. However, you both must come back to the nest.”

Your son just stared at him.

“If I don't pay for it, how do you think either of you is going to be able to pay this off? Especially not when word gets out that you attacked the Headmage of NRC. You will spend the rest of your life in debt that will continue to grow.”

“You're bluffing,” your son spat.

He definitely wasn't bluffing. You knew exactly what lengths he was willing to go to. You couldn't look him in the eye, opting to stare at the floor as you whispered,

“We'll come with you.”

“No!”

“We don't have a choice. Trust me, I know.”

“Aw, don't talk like that, treasure,” he said happily, scooping you back up and nuzzling his cheek against yours.

Your son looked at you with heart broken eyes. But there was nothing you could do. You'd always known what it looked like when he'd beaten you.

He'd let you leave…

You never wrapped your head around it.

He'd let you leave. Watched you walk out the door with your son. Hadn't said a word.

And he hadn't come after you. 

It had been four years since then. You'd been doing as well as a single parent could do.

Any accounts you had created and hid from him, your government paperwork, your social media accounts; all of it was gone. The second you stepped foot out of his mansion, he'd canceled and frozen anything and everything you had in your name. You had started from square one.

But you were alive. And so was your son. You had found a job, and had built a small life for the both of you.

But this most recent set of bills was going to upset the delicate balance.

You stared down at the statements, and sighed. You wanted to cry. You'd fought so hard. But it all amounted to nothing. The weight of the world was crushing you, and it was all you could do to keep yourself from letting it show to your son.

An unknown number appeared on your phone. You picked up. Probably a debt collector. Maybe you could come up with an excuse.

“Are you done playing pretend? You're not cut out to be a stray.”

You stiffened.

“How did you get this number?”

“You're not in a position to ask me questions. How does it feel to be all alone? To bite your master, then get beaten by a wild pack of wolves?”

You stared back down at the bills, biting your lip.

“Nothing to say?” You could hear the amusement in his tone. It disgusted you, but he was right. You weren't in a position to fight him.

“What do you want?” You spat.

“I want you to admit you need me. That you can't support yourself and the pup, and that I'm the only one who is able to properly take care of you.”

“What the fuck-”

“I want you to tell me that you understand that a dog is useless without a master to care for it.”

“Gah! I'm not saying anything like that!”

“Alright,” he spat, hanging up before you could say anything else.

You angrily slammed your phone against the table. 

“What's going on?” You heard your son's sleepy voice say. You turned over your shoulder, and saw him rubbing his eyes, staring at you sleepily. He was so small. So innocent. He deserved so much more.

You opened your arms, and he ran into them, snuggling against you.

“Baby, how would you feel if Daddy brought us home?”

“Daddy?”

“Yeah. We got separated, but I think he found us. Which means-”

“Daddy could take us home?”

You felt bile rise in your throat. Home. Home was stolen from you forever when a certain alchemy professor had decided you were his. But maybe home would be different for your boy. And you couldn't take that from him.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

You redialled the unknown number, half expecting him not to pick up. But he did, immediately.

You put it on speaker, and after a moment of silence, you heard, “Well?”

Your son was faster than you.

“Daddy, please come get us!”

Crewel’s breath hitched, and his voice was infinitely more tender when he spoke again.

“Of course, puppy. Daddy's coming to get you.”

Your son looked up at you with excited, warm eyes. Maybe this was for the best. It would be selfish of you to keep putting him through this. He had a father who would give him the stars in the sky if he so much as looked at them a certain way. Meanwhile, you could barely take care of yourself.

“We'll be waiting,” you said quietly.

You half expected him to go back to sounding angry and disappointed. Instead, he released a soft sigh, and said in a voice so kind that it brought tears to your eyes, “I've missed you, love.”

Sam's "friends" used to frighten you. They were the one's in charge of keeping you quiet in the back room while he worked. 

Over time, you'd grown to tolerate them. They were terrifying. But they left you alone for the most part.

The day Sam had placed your son in your arms was the first time they'd spoken to you. You'd been alone, staring at your own hollow eyes in the mirror, reflecting on how you had to get this child away from him, when a whispery voice had hissed in your ear.

“We can free you.”

You'd refused to trade your soul, but you'd given up ten years of your life span. Over the years, they would update you if you needed to move. They would tell you what he was up to. They would hide you from new “friends” who would try to find you. 

It was your son's 16th birthday. And something was wrong.

The "friend" who had offered you the deal in the first place was missing. They were always around, except for when Sam needed them. It was odd for them not to be there. 

And you, yourself, felt weird. You'd woken up to a tingle in the tips of your fingers, and a disco party in your chest.  You gotten up to wake up your son, then prepared him a birthday pancake. You placed a candle into it, and were about to light it, when it lit itself.

“Hello, friend,” you muttered. “Is something wrong? It's not like you to be gone for so long.”

You felt phantom fingers detangling a knot in your hair, and a voice hissed in your ear, “We serve more than just you.”

They sounded…oddly defensive. But you couldn't think about that now, because your son had just stumbled tiredly into the room.

“Aw, you shouldn't have,” he grinned when he saw the pancake. He leaned in and blew out the candle, before sitting down and digging in. You sat down in the seat next to him, digging into your own breakfast, when your “friend” released a hiss.

Suddenly, in the corner, a dark void opened up, and out stepped,

“Sam,” you whispered in terror, as you stood from your spot. You turned to your “friend” who was moving to join him.

“Hello, little imp. Long time no see,” he grinned at you, his eyes glowing bright lime as the room filled with fog from the void.

“Wait, I had a deal!” You shouted.

“We received a better offer,” your “friend”’s voice hissed with merciless glee. “Don't worry, we returned your ten years to you.”

“Damn, I wanted to see you for so long. But now that I see your face, I'm absolutely disgusted,” Sam spat bitterly.

The smoke wrapped around you like unbreakable ropes. You struggled against them, but they only grew tighter, quickly feeling suffocating.

He walked up to you, gripping your chin in his hand.

“I paid quite the price for you. And now I just want you to suffer like I did.”

“Wait-” your son cut in, seemingly finally able to break out of his shock.

This brought Sam's attention to him, his eyes filling with love and adoration.

“And there's my boy! Can you believe I spent years thinking a fate worse than death had befallen you?” Sam said sweetly.

“You're scaring me. Cut out whatever it is you're doing, and leave us alone!”

Sam's eyes flashed back to yours, a staff suddenly appearing in his hand.

“No. I made a deal after all.”

He stalked towards you, and you watched in horror as various shadow creatures restrained your son.

“I had to choose. You or my son.” The staff came up under your chin, pressing uncomfortably into your throat. “I used to worship you. And you gave me nothing,” he hissed. Then he smiled. “It wasn't that hard of a decision to make, really.”

His lips were pressed against yours, cutting off your air completely.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” he breathed against you. He then shoved you, and you fell backwards into darkness, his hate filled glowing gaze the last thing you saw.

“Please, just, don't tell anyone about us. He's not interested in becoming a mage.”

It felt like you were pleading for your life. Because you were. Crowley had arrived at your son's school to scout students for the college. The second your son had gotten word, he'd called you, and you'd rushed to the school, prepared with a lie about a doctor's appointment you'd both forgotten. Crowley moved far too fast though, and had already found your son.

“Y/N. My employees' well being is of great importance to me!” 

“I'm sure he's fine,” your son groaned in the seat next to you. “I really don't want to be a mage. So scout someone else, and leave us alone.”

Your boy was a good one. But his downfall was his strong sense of justice. You had never intended to tell him the lengths Ashton had gone to keep you, but he'd been relentless. You hadn't told him everything, but the both of you were pretty certain he might do something bad if he ever met the man.

Crowley looked at you both in disappointment. You remembered that look. It brought you back to your Ramshackle days when you were asking him to install heat, and he'd made you feel like you were asking for a million dollars. But you weren't his student anymore. You weren't his slave. He had no control over you.

“It would be a great shame for someone of your abilities to waste them. And besides,” Crowley’s disappointed frown turned into a frightening grin. “Around this time of year, a certain physical education professor gets rather whiney, and makes it everyone's problem. Now, whose fault is that?” 

“He's a big kid. If he can't move on, that's his own fault. And if it's a problem, you can fire him,” you said bluntly, not going to feel guilted for what you'd done.

Crowley leveled a glare at you.

“I gave you a home. I gave you money. I gave you an expensive education, for free. I allowed you to keep your cat, and eventually your son. You owe me.” He snapped his fingers, and the mirror in the corner swirled to life. Suddenly, he was behind the both of you, yanking you from your seats, and shoving you through the mirror.

You both landed in a patch of grass, right behind a burly man in a memorable red sweatshirt. He hadn't noticed you yet. You pressed your finger to your lips, and pointed to the nearby woods. Your son nodded, and you both turned slowly.

Only to bump straight into Crowley.

“For Seven's sake, Ashton! Get it together!” Crowley snapped, causing the man of the hour to finally look over his shoulder.

His eyes widened, and he ran straight for you, wrapping you in a hug so tight that you thought your ribs might break. Again.

“Ashton,” you wheezed, feeling the familiar feeling of panic you always felt when he was involved. 

“You're so scrawny,” he muttered in your ear. You were always “too scrawny” to him. But of course it would be the first thing he'd say to you after so long of being apart. 

“I can't believe you survived out there,” he boomed loudly, holding you by the shoulders at arms length, looking you up and down with a jovial smile.

“Put them down!” Your son snapped, shaking you out of your fear momentarily. You looked over your shoulder to see him tied up in Crowley's “whips of love”.

Ashton’s eyes brightened even further.

“Ha ha! You look just like your old man! A few hundred pushups, and you'll be just as strong as I am!”

“Fuck you!” 

Ashton's eyes darkened, and turned back to you, reigniting your terror tenfold. His grip on your shoulders tightened painfully.

“What have you been saying about me, Y/N?”

You shivered in terror. You knew that look.

“I didn't-”

“You don't deserve our love, you monster!”

Ashton tossed you to the side like you were nothing. You winced. He never seemed fully aware of what his strength was capable of. He marched up to your son, snatching him from Crowley.

“Looks like we need to do some training, to whip ya into shape.”

He snatched you under his other arm, storming off in the direction of the school.

“Vargas! Your students!” Crowley called after him, but he was completely ignored.

You were thoroughly soaked from the rain outside. You stood before him, staring at the ground in shame as he silently sipped tea, and studied you. Eventually, he sighed, standing up and placing the baby in the bassinet in the corner of his spacious bedroom. He returned to his seat, and sighed again.

“To say I am disappointed would be an understatement,” Mozus said sternly. 

The door had been unlocked. In a moment of stupidity, you'd taken the chance to grab the baby and run. You hadn't realized that Trein had put up countless charms around the estate, including one that allowed the topiary knights to drag you back to him. If that wasn't enough, it was pouring. A mud puddle had been your undoing.

You dripped onto the floor, awaiting the speech and upcoming punishment.

“Look at me when I talk to you,” he snapped, and you quickly looked up. His face and demeanor were calm, but his eyes glinted in anger.

“I trained you to be a better spouse than this. What in the Seven's names were you thinking?”

He paused, seeming to wait and see what brilliant answer you would provide.

“I don't know,” you whispered.

“You don't know. Well, do you have any hints?”

You honestly didn't. Things had been peaceful recently. Up until the moment you ran out the door, you had convinced yourself you were finally able to be happy here. But seeing that unlocked door had stirred something in you. A final rebellion. A chance for your son, who shouldn't have to grow up under Trein's tyranny.

Now that you were under his scrutiny, however, all of that seemed to fade away. Instead, you were filled with embarrassment and guilt.

“I'm sorry,” you whimpered.

His glare softened into pure disappointment. Which, somehow, made you feel worse.

“Sorry won't clean the mud off my carpet,” he said tiredly. He looked you up and down, before pouring himself another cup of tea. 

“I know.”

“You know I can't leave this unpunished?”

“Yes.”

He looked at you, unreadable, before he nodded to the door.

“Go clean yourself up, then wait for me in your room while I decide on your punishment.”

You nodded, trudging towards the door. Then the baby started to softly cry. Instinctively, you turned the child. Trein's expression turned soft, more tender. 

“Go ahead,” he said, his voice full of love.

You picked up the baby, and made your way to your room.

[jjongslutz]

박성훈 SUNGHOON 💋 I CAN HELP YOU WITH THAT. [ MDNI. ]

IN WHICH your boyfriend!sunghoon kindly lends you his dick a hand to help you build your stamina after your dance and vocal instructors reprimand you for wasting your strength too easily.

WARNINGS ��� fem!reader, pw(out)p, riding (of all sorts; thighs, fingers, face, and the classic, dick), fingering (f. receiving), oral (f. receiving), pet names (princess, love, good girl), smidge of degradation, dom!sunghoon x sub!reader, use of the word God (not directed @ anybody)

WORD COUNT ⨯ 2.4k

AUTHOR'S NOTE . . . first post in the nsfw community... hope i'm welcomed—and i hope you like it lolz 😝

You slam the door when you come back to your apartment. You can’t help it, today’s been the longest, most frustrating day.

“Babe?” You hear calling from the living room, you presume. The additional voices spilling out from the TV as you make your way out of the entrance confirm your suspicion.

Sunghoon sits comfortably on the couch, scrolling on his phone, with whatever show he put on long forgotten. He puts his phone down at the sight of you around the corner. “Something wrong?”

Of course your boyfriend notices something off. Instead of an answer, you walk over to him and pout exaggeratedly. He gets the memo and opens his arms, inviting you to fall into them.

“My dance instructor hates me,” you say finally, voice muffled because of the way your face is buried in his shoulder. “My vocal trainer, too.”

Sunghoon chuckles lightly at your sudden confession. “Doubt that’s true, but go on.”

You let out a sigh as you sit up straighter and brush your hair out of your face. You watch as your boyfriend’s gaze follows your moment. Just seeing his beautiful face makes today’s jitters go away. Almost. “Apparently,” you start, rolling your eyes dramatically. “I have awful stamina. Like, really bad.”

“This is new information to you?” He winces when you punch his arm playfully.

“What do they expect me to do? Start going to the gym? Go on walks? I already spend hours at the studio, with school too, I barely have time for anything else. Obviously I’m gonna get tired fast.” You shift your position again, so you can go back to leaning your head into the crook of his neck. Sunghoon’s eyes getting caught by the TV again—although you know he isn’t really watching it, but in deep thought at your words—you take the opportunity to test the waters. You raise your chin and plant a kiss to his neck. “Plus, I don’t want to get too tired out before I get to bed with you.”

You keep peppering his neck with kisses, going up along his jaw until you can feel him smirking underneath you.

“We wouldn’t want you to fall asleep halfway through,” he teases. Then, suddenly, his eyes narrow, and his lips rise slightly.

“What,” you say, not really as a question, but a demand, easily recognizing his expression.

A light shade of rose blush spreads from his cheeks to his ears as his smirk turns mischevious. “I know how I can help you.”

Without waiting for your response, his hands trail down your sides until they land finally on your hips. You let him pull you up into his lap, until you’re sat with one of his thighs between your legs. It doesn’t take long for you to understand what he wants, despite being confused by what he means.

He nods at you. “Come on, Princess, you know what to do.”

You roll your eyes, not even hiding the smile on your face.

Steadying yourself with hands on his shoulders, you rock back and forth against his thigh, starting at a slow pace. Your eyelids flutter shut as you take in the relieving pressure against your clothed core.

Sunghoon helps guide you, his hands sturdily holding your hips. He moves you back and forth. Back and forth. “Fuck,” you whisper, leaning in and moving your hands up to his cheeks to pull him into a kiss. His tongue swipes your bottom lip just as he forces you forward faster. A moan escapes your mouth as his tongue takes the opportunity to go in.

Your knee lightly presses against his growing arousal, causing him to let out a soft groan into the kiss. Your moans sound like a melody mixed together.

Before you know it, your pace becomes sloppier as you get closer and closer to your climax. Your legs start to give out, at the same time. “Sunghoon,” you whine. “Please.” You’re not sure what you’re pleading for, but he doesn’t grant it.

His hands let go of your hips entirely, now all the pressure is put into your legs if you want to get off at all. You whine some more, but he shakes his head condescendingly. “Oh, love, you’re gonna have to work harder than that, hm? C’mon, be a good girl and cum by yourself.”

And just like that, his words are enough to taunt you into putting in the work.

Rutting your cunt against his leg faster, you aim for your climax with no remorse. It washes over you like a tidal wave, your legs trembling underneath you as you release a deep breath.

You collapse against his shoulder, out of breath. “Thank you, Hoon—”

“You didn’t think we were done, did you?” His tone is more menacing, yet traces of sweetness that make your face flush. You don’t usually go for multiple rounds. Once you cum, you’re wasted. Now, it seems Sunghoon really is going through with his promise of helping you. “Princess, take off your panties for me.”

Who are you to deny him?

You get up on shaking legs, slowly stepping out of your shorts, then pulling down your underwear.

Sunghoon watches you with hungry eyes. His mouth is slightly ajar with his tongue running across his bottom lip. Your eyes follow the slow movements of his hand on his groin.

God, you want him to take you right then and there.

He notices your gaze on him and seems to read your thoughts. “You'll get this later Princess, I promise.” Then, he brings his hand up to his mouth, sucking on his middle and ring finger sensually, maintaining eye contact as he pushes them in and out. Once he takes them out, he motions for you to come closer. “Ride my fingers, baby.”

First, you place your hands on his shoulders, then lean forward, positioning your knees beside Sunghoon’s, letting him guide his own fingers into your dripping core.

“Fuck, you're tight,” he groans with a smirk, pushing them in and out to get you used to the feeling. “Feel good?”

“Uh huh,” you moan, your head tilting up with your mouth open in an ‘o.’ You roll your hips into his fingers rhythmically, but steadily, letting him do all the work.

He notices it quickly and stops his curling fingers.

You mewl. God, you’re pathetic, and Sunghoon tells you as much. “You want me to do all the work? C’mon Princess, show me how good you make yourself feel. Use me, don’t you want to?”

And God, yes you do. You want to so bad.

So, you roll your hips forward, again, eagerly. Again, and again.

You bounce on them, you rut against them, you bring your hand to his and guide them in and out. Anything to get you to your high.

Suddenly, you feel Sunghoon’s muscles twitch under your fingertips and he raises you into the air, carrying you with his fingers still knuckle-deep into your cunt. He walks you to the bedroom, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, careful not to fall, yet desperate to maintain the satisfying pressure where you need it the most.

The aching feeling of him pulling out his fingers breaks your trance as he tosses you onto the bed.

Slowly, Sunghoon pulls his shirt over his head. Your eyes are glued to his toned abs, then he reveals his strong arms, which makes you moan at the sight of them, unable to stop yourself from imagining how it’d feel to be choked by them right now. He then pushes his sweatpants down, and though they did little to cover his erection, his boxers do even less. You’re disappointed he hasn’t taken those off just yet.

“Come here,” you tell him with a pout, weakly reaching your hand out to touch him.

Sunghoon grabs your hand, only to put it back down and climb on top and over you. Seeing as he’s laying next to you, you sit up for a better view. A smile comes across your lips as your hand inches toward his clothed dick, wishing for it to be the next thing inside you. “Please,” you ask him.

He doesn’t answer your question, instead says: “Take off your shirt.” It’s a demand and you respect it instantly. His lips curl at the sight of you not wearing a bra. You took it off after practice at the studio. Then, he nods his head. “Let me taste your pretty pussy, baby.”

You roll your eyes again, already situating yourself to kneel over his mouth.

Your thighs gently squeeze his head as you sink down slowly onto his tongue. It feels breathtaking, quite literally. Your mouth hangs open, needing something to latch onto. Since you can’t reach him or his lips, or his fingers that refuse to release their grip on your hips, you bite down onto the bed’s headboard. You moan into it, knowing it’ll leave teeth marks.

Something about the permanent, physical mark on the wood turns you on even more than you already are.

Your hips rut naturally, already used to the pattern Sunghoon’s asking of you.

His tongue moves in and out as you bounce in time, up and down, never too far up so you can always feel him against you.

You feel as his hands creep up from your hips to your breasts, he squeezes them when his hands land where he wants them. His finger brushes over your nipple and you throw your head back in a moan.

Soon enough, your second high of the night comes crashing. It takes you by surprise, your body falls back onto Sunghoon’s as your hips stutter against his tongue. He glides it all over your cunt to taste every bit of your release. He moans at the flavour, giving your glistening pussy a final kiss before he sits up, pulling you up to his chest.

You breath heavily against his lips, leaning in for a kiss, and he doesn’t deny it.

It’s messy, more spit than kiss, but God, it tastes good. You taste good.

“You like that,” Sunghoon laughs on your lips. “My good girl likes the way she tastes?”

At a loss of words, you hum with your eyes closed, falling back onto his shoulder in bliss.

As you’re sitting practically on his abs, he’s able to reach under you without you noticing, you only realize that he’s pulling down his boxers when he lifts his hips beneath you. You feel his hardened dick spring against your back, but before you have the chance to back up and get a look at it, Sunghoon pushes you forward.

He spits in his hand before reaching behind him. With one hand, the dry one, he spreads your cheeks, and using the other, guides his hardened member into your welcoming entrance. The stretch hits you so good, ripping a wave of pleasure through your body just from the newfound pressure.

This time, you don’t need to be told or scolded to play your part. You raise yourself from your knees, still trembling from pleasure, but determined to show Sunghoon how much of a good girl you are.

You start by going up, then down, then you roll your hips. It’s like a dance—the way you move smoothly against him, listening to the sounds of your moans and his heavy breathing is like music to your ears, controlling your movements.

It’s clear he’s holding himself back from moving, his dick twitching inside of you when you roll back so he’s balls deep. He groans, raising his eyes to the ceiling as if looking you in the eyes right now would make him lose composure.

“Fuck…” you whimper, falling back onto the palms of your hands, which gives you all the more room to freely bounce on him.

Sunghoon loves the view as he looks back down at you. “Such a good girl,” he whispers breathily.

He lowers his gaze again to your pussy swallowing and releasing his dick beneath you. “Fuck, Princess, you’re so pretty,” he says, speaking right to your pulsing cunt.

“Baby,” you say between breaths, steadying your movements so your fucked out expression is in full view. “Baby, please.”

He knows what you’re asking for.

And, finally, fucking finally, he gives in.

His knees come up behind you while coming up in front of you, deepening his length, hitting you right at your g-spot, you cry into his shoulder, not too much caring for the drool dripping down his chest from it.

Sunghoon pushes you back so he’s hovering above you, his dick still several inches deep inside of you. You moan at the sight of his dazed eyes, pulling your head back, which gives him access to attack your neck with kisses, biting on the skin until it bruises to his satisfaction.

You moan underneath his control, giving him your all, and letting him do with you what he needs until he’s done with you.

He shifts his weight to his knees. “Good girl,” he breathes into your hair. “You feel so good around my dick—Fuck—You’re so tight.” With this new position, he has more leverage to pound harder and faster into you. He babbles on under his breath about how good you feel, and your brain fuses it all together, lost in the pleasure.

“Sunghoon—Please—” You plead needlessly because he’s already giving you what you want. No, you just need more, more.

And he gives it.

He pounds into you, over and over again.

“You gonna cum for me, Princess?”

His words work like magic because in an instant you're clenching around him, more of your seed pooling out of you, coating his shaft in a delicious layer of white.

Sunghoon is soon to follow, pulling out to jerk off on top of your stomach until his cum is leaking beautifully onto your skin.

He runs his hand across your stomach, scooping up as much of his seed as he can and urges you to open your mouth. Soon enough, you taste the salty, bittersweetness of your boyfriend running down your throat.

After you’ve finished swallowing it all, you look up at him, panting, with doe eyes. “How’d I do?”

He considers it for a moment. “I think we’ll need to practice some more.”

 JJONGSLUTZ 2023

[rainofthetwilight]

HAPPY DRAGONS RISING S2 EVE JSJFJWJWNDJ

I wanted to draw smth for it so have the blorbies ever, sora and riyu <3333 (used this as an opportunity to test out some new brushes too, also can you tell I can't draw dragons)

it's literally april 4 for me rn, it's like almost 2 am now, I'm so excited AGHFHFHFN (sucks that I got my arabic tutor coming at 2 pm 😭😭 I literally wake up at 11 dude I won't even finish DRs2 before she comes ughhh)

[lunaa-runee]

Constant Reminder

cw: Mafia AU, no curses, suggestive content, afab reader, major character death, hurt - no comfort

wc: 1.3k

The dimly lit room hummed with pulsating energy. Men dressed in fine suits filled the room, surrounded by a sea of scantily clad women who seemed to ooze seduction and desperation in equal measures. Amidst this lively scene, Kento sat alone at a corner table, his piercing gaze cutting through the haze of cigarette smoke as he nursed a glass of whiskey.

As the night wore on and drinks flowed freely, Kento's carefully cultivated network of informants worked their magic, extracting juicy secrets from unsuspecting businessmen. With each tidbit of information, Kento's power grew stronger, his influence reaching every corner of the city. This was his game - manipulating and controlling those around him through their deepest desires and darkest indiscretions. And he played it well, earning him the reputation of one of the city's most powerful men.

A hand lightly grazed against his shoulders, and he did his best to ignore it. But the woman, who owned the hand, was persistent as she planted herself on his lap. While most men would have welcomed such an opportunity, Kento was not one of them. He had to use all his self-control to keep from pushing her off of him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing," he grumbled.

"Kento," she purred into his ear, wrapping her arms around his neck. She leaned closer to him, exposing more of her chest as a blatant attempt at seduction.

Kento's eyes narrowed in a cold, stern glare." You should be working, we're busy."

"It's my night off." Daisy's finger, adorned with delicate red nail polish, glides over the contours of Kento's muscular chest

Daisy initially came to Tokyo for school but quickly became entangled in his world. Despite her attraction towards the underground businessman, he had no interest in being around her. His heart still belonged to someone who was no longer with him.

Kento's patience was growing thin, and his tone reflected this: "If you aren't working, you should go home. There's no point in staying here if you're not going to be useful to me."

Daisy pouted at his harsh tone, but her determination remained unshaken. As she leaned down to him, her lips trailed gentle kisses along his skin. "Why don't we sneak away to one of the private rooms and indulge in some playful fun?" she whispered seductively in his ear.

Kento's composure shattered in that instant. He forcefully pushed Daisy off his lap, her body crashing onto the hard floor. Her face twisted in shock. "Get out," he growled.

Fear took over her eyes, realizing her mistake in that moment. Quickly, she gathered herself, leaving his sight. She was at least smart enough to know he was not a man to test.

"How you can be so mean to such a beautiful woman I will never understand."

Kento sat back in his chair and tilted his head to better view his friend and business partner, who seemed to have materialized out of nowhere. "I didn't know you were going to be here Gojo. What do I owe this pleasure?"

"Can't a man just drop by to see his old pal?" Kento's narrowed gaze showed he knew there was probably some hidden purpose behind his visit. Gojo clicked his tongue, aware that Kento would likely brush him off anyway. He looked around the bustling club as another lucky guy was pulled towards the door that led to the private rooms. "I don't understand how you could turn down these poor girls who throw themselves at you."

"I'm not interested."

"You're seriously still hung up on that girl? It's been nearly two years."

Kento's chest tightened as he was overcome with bittersweet memories. The face of his former lover appeared in his mind, bringing back intense feelings of pain that time had failed to soften. He hadn't thought about her in a long time; she used to be the light in his life and motivated him to become a better person. However, he had waited too long to make changes.

The cool ocean breeze brought a new day through the open French doors. The sun shined softly through the window, illuminating the room with golden rays. Kento's gaze took in the sight of you sleeping peacefully on the bed. The thin sheet barely covered your form, revealing the beautiful marks scattered across your skin, a testament to your night of passion.

How did he get so lucky?

Almost three years had passed since you entered his life unexpectedly on a Tuesday afternoon. He had stopped at a nearby bakery to grab a quick lunch, exhausted and stressed from his day. In his haste, he wasn't paying attention and didn't notice you as he turned around, colliding with you.

He sighed and bent down to begin picking up his dropped items. He could hear your apologies, but when he looked up at you to tell you to stop apologizing, his whole world shifted in that moment like the air had been forced out of his lungs. You were the most stunning woman he had ever laid his eyes on.

He fell for you, hard.

He was a prominent figure in a notorious crime organization, and you were an ordinary individual who lived a quiet life. But he selfishly pursued you despite the dangers to you.

He went to great lengths to conceal his true profession and maintain distance between you and his more illicit dealings in the organization to keep you safe. But you were observant, and he had to come clean about everything to you. To his surprise, you stayed by his side, though you clearly disapproved of his work.

You sense Kento's eyes on you as you stir from your sleep. "Quit being so creepy," you mutter in your exhausted state.

Kento chuckled at your usual morning attitude. "Can't a man admire his beautiful girlfriend?"

You playfully smacked his arm, to which Kento only chuckled, "That hurt."

You rolled your eyes at his antics. "Oh please."

Kento embraced you, holding your body close to his. He nestled his face into the curve of your neck. "I love you," he murmured.

"I love you too," you whispered before a comfortable silence fell between you. The only sounds were the crashing waves and the chirping birds outside the open windows. Time seemed to stand still as you lay there, basking in each other's presence. But eventually, reality set in. "I have to leave for work soon."

"Don't go," he begged. "Quit. Be with me."

You sat up and lightly kissed Kento on the cheek before getting up to make your way towards the bathroom. "You know I can't."

Kento's heart ached as he recalled the last morning he spent with you. If he had known what would happen, he would have kept you in bed that morning. Instead, he was blinded by his happiness, oblivious to the dangers lingering in the background. As tears threatened to spill from his eyes, he couldn't help but replay the painful memories of that fateful day over and over again in his mind.

Gone.

The word echoed mercilessly in his mind, a cruel mantra of agony and disbelief.

The doctor's condolences were empty words, futile attempts to soothe the wildfire of emotions raging through Kento that day. He felt it all - raw, unbridled rage burning in his veins, gut-wrenching grief clawing at his heart, a sense of betrayal that threatened to consume him whole.

In an instant, his entire future shattered into a million pieces. The dreams of leaving the mafia behind and building a new life with you are all gone. It was too late. You were taken from him, a victim of his world.

Your blood would forever be on his hands, a constant reminder of his love's tragic end.

[live-laugh-lenney]

Hey do you think you could write something like maybe Arthur hill girlfriend going to the mummy’s boy podcast show maybe making an appearance on stage then going out with Arthur George and Arthur afterwards all good if not thanks x

i love the idea of yn going on their significant other's podcasts and being a guest on an episode... we definitely need to expand on this idea...

she was their very first guest on the podcast.

sat at the dining table in lisa's kitchen, with the podcast equipment set up around them, as they were still trying to find their feet and the way they wanted to introduce the podcast episodes themselves. at a time when they were still brand-new to the podcast genre and they were testing out different ways to keep people engaged and as well as humoured.

so it only felt right for her to appear during the live show in london for an exciting night in the timeline of the podcast; not that she would have missed it for the world.

in the dressing room, she could hear the crowd for the night getting busier and busier as it neared the set time they were due out on the stage and she couldn't seem to shake the nerves that had her hands shaking and her legs bouncing. her bottle of water left on the table, alongside her phone and her belongings, and she couldn't keep her mind focused on anything happening around her.

being arthur's girlfriend had her in strange situations; especially for a girl who wasn't in the same line of work. where she worked a typical 9 to 5 job, that had her commuting in the early hours and getting home during rush hour, arthur seemed to live a life that was more sporadic and spontaneous as opposed to organised and scheduled. touring, making appearances on people's youtube channels, being given the opportunities that even had him rubbing his eyes in amazement.

"i thought i was supposed to be the nervous, socially awkward one of all of us tonight," arthur frederick spoke as he sat beside her on the sofa, a bottle of beer in his hand that was on the verge of being done before they took to the stage, "you're scared?"

"a little, i guess. this is the first proper public thing we've done as a couple," yn says as she watches her boyfriend finish getting ready in the corner of the dressing room, "we've been seen out together and people have seen me at his shows but..."

"but this is different to all of that," arthur finishes for her and she nods softly, "it never gets easier for me being so public but i usually feel a lot more at ease when i'm with these guys. you know what it's like."

"i think it's just the pre-stage jitters," yn laughs softly, looking up at the clock on the wall and seeing it nearing even closer, "i'm sure we'll be okay out there. it's not like people don't know who we are or have never seen us before."

"i reckon most people are here for you and lisa anyway," george says and drags his chair across the carpeted floor beneath him, reaching over to squeeze her knee reassuringly, "it'll be fun. just think about us all being in the same room together, without the audience in front of us. nothing different to how we're like around a dinner table."

yn smiles softly and nods in agreement; she was fussing over nothing and she knew it would be a walk in the park. they made her feel at ease, they made her feel comfortable and arthur wouldn't have asked her to be a guest if he didn't think she could do it.

"right, stop fussing over my lady and let me at her," arthur insists and brushes passed george to pull yn from her seat, holding her hands tightly in his, "you have nothing to be worried over. you'll be great out there."

"don't make a fool of me," yn warns him and he holds his hands up in surrender, "arthur."

"i won't, i promise. can't say the same for those two rotten scoundrels over there," arthur shook his head with a smirk on his mouth and she snickers softly, "just give it back to them as they give it to you. like the audience isn't there."

and he was right.

on stage, she sat in between lisa and mr television for the first half of the show. and it somehow made her feel more at ease knowing that her and arthur were a little more social awkward in these situations and that they were able to comfort each other. the enjoyment of the night seemed to progress and she felt herself loosen up a lot more than she had done by the end of the first half of the show compared to when she stepped foot on the stage at the beginning and she was eager to get back out once the first half had concluded.

by the end of the show, she didn't want it to end.

saying goodbye to those who had spent the last hour and a half in the audience, listening to her as she waffled on when giving advice and watching the group of them tease and joke around with each other, she was both pleased and upset that it had come to an end.

pleased because she could feel herself becoming overwhelmed with how people had welcomed her in. pleased because people actually liked her and loved to see her and arthur interact as a couple. pleased because, as fun as it was, she needed to come down off of the high that she was feeling.

"now, how did you find that?" arthur questions her as she squeezes his hand reassuringly, allowing george and arthur and lisa to walk on ahead to allow them the chance to linger behind, "you were great out there. people loved you."

"it was still nerve-racking though," she whines softly and looks up at him with a softening look in her eyes, "i did it but don't make me do it again for a while."

"don't fancy coming out and doing a solo on the tour then?"

she shakes her head rapidly and he laughs at her reaction.

"are you sure? think we could do a good duet, maybe we could do a bit of dolly parton and kenny rogers since you did such a brilliant impression of her during your improv out there," he snickers and she could feel her cheeks heating up, "i'm kidding, i'm kidding." xx

[second-axis-point]

could you write Joel being awkward and blushy while male reader praises him? love your work 😙😙

Pairing: Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Warnings: None!

Content: Praise, Fluff, Soft!Joel, Touch Starved!Joel

Sorry for yet another little brake. I have had awful writer's block and just had no motivation. But I'm back and I hope you enjoyed this! 😅Thanks for the request! 💙

Under Your gaze

You had been experimenting for about a month now. You had been testing what could make Joel blush. So far brash flirting and gift giving had no effect. You were starting to get a bit frustrated. So you tried something different. Praise. Joel had made dinner that night and you thought that was the perfect time to start. After cleaning your plate you sat back and looked over at him.

“That was amazing Joel, you should cook more often.”

He glanced back at you, avoiding your eyes, and nodded. You could see the corners of his mouth twitch upward. You got up and walked back to the living room, brushing his shoulder on the way out. You heard his breath hitch slightly. Test number one’s results looked promising.

The next day, you found another opportunity rearing its head. He had just gotten out of the shower and was towelling his hair dry. Once he tossed the towel into the laundry basket, he walked out to where you had been laying back and reading. He stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips, seemingly lost in thought.

“Lookin’ good Joel. That a new shirt?”

You tossed a lopsided grin his way and watched closely. The tips of his ears were pink but you couldn’t tell if that was from the shower or from you.

“Yeah it is, Tommy got it for me.”

He mumbled. You sat up and put your book down.

“Blue suits you.”

Another smile and Joel ducks his head down. He gave a quick and quiet thank you before shuffling into the kitchen. Test number two looked just as promising.

Over the next few days, you tried to compliment him at every opportunity you could. You give kudos to his shooting, his cooking, his smile, his clothing, his music taste, and anything else you could imagine. By the end of the week you had finally gotten Joel to blush fully. It didn’t take much really. He was so used to going without any kind of affection, that just the slightest hint of it would get him to blush like a lovesick teenager. All you had to do was compliment his new haircut and he was putty in your hands.

You were walking down the streets of Jackson before running into him. He was stepping out of the stables and jogged over to meet you as soon as he laid eyes on you. His haircut wasn’t much different, just a bit shorter, but he looked great. You turned to look at him and beamed.

“Damn Miller! And I thought the shaggy look suited you. Love the new haircut.”

Your smoothe voice cut through the chilly weather. You reached a hand up and brushed it through his hair. His face lit up and his cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. He closed his eyes and leaned a bit closer. Joel had to physically hold back a whine when he felt your warm hand leave his head.

“I knew I'd get you eventually.”

You laughed and nudged him with your shoulder. Joel looked confused.

“I’ve been tryin’ to get you to blush for a month.”

You kept walking, Joel following close behind.

“So that’s why you've been so nice to me.”

He looked disappointed, his shoulders hunched slightly.

“No, I said all of those things cause they're true. You gettin’ all flustered was just a bonus.”

You walked up to your shared apartment and unlocked the door. You gazed back at him, signalling for him to go in first. He nodded and sort of hid his face in his scarf before walking in. The both of you started to strip off your outerwear, hanging up your coats and putting your boots by the door.

You walked over and sat on the couch with your head back and your eyes closed. You heard Joel moving around. The noise stopped and you opened your eyes to see him standing in front of you. He surprised you by climbing into your lap. He found a comfortable position, his head buried in your neck. You wrapped your arms around his waist and traced patterns on his back.

“Y’know I really did mean all the things I said.”

You said quietly. You felt him nod.

“Can I see your face?”

He hesitated a moment before slowly sitting back. His face was still a bit red and he avoided looking into your eyes, his gaze fixed on your shirt. You reached up and took his chin between your fingers.

“There you are. So pretty. Look at you.”

You smile, genuine and warm. He finally meets your eyes. You start repeating all the compliments you could remember giving him that week. He squirmed in your lap, somehow getting more and more flustered. He seemingly couldn’t take all the praise, pulling his face from your hand and burying it back into your neck. You went quiet for a moment.

“Do you want me to stop?”

You questioned, not wanting to overstep a boundary. He shook his head no but didn’t say anything else.

“Use your words, handsome.”

“No. Keep going. Please.”

He mutters into your shoulder. You do just that. You continue your praise, rubbing his back. He grips at your shirt and wriggles in your embrace. You couldn’t believe that you had the big bad Joel Miller, flustered and squirming in your lap. You couldn’t imagine a better place to be.

[faithhearted]

@honorhearted {x}

Lola had dealings with all sorts of clients with all sorts of different demeanors, expectations, and kinks, but the soldier's reaction of distaste was a bit of a new one for her. Maybe wearing the shako, as Brew.ster had so gleefully suggested, was a little too much after all.

Disinterested in their quarrel, Lola shamelessly snooped through the items on the Major's campaign chest, testing the scent of a half-used cologne bottle, inspecting the pomade, and toying with the soft bristles of a shaving brush in the opened kit.

It was rather disappointing to see that there was nothing of value for her to swipe. And here she'd thought this particular soldier was one of important rank. Perhaps she'd been wrong.

Finally, she heard a thunderous "Get her out!" That's when he turned toward her with a remorseful expression, "I'm so sorry that this l.obcock has wasted your time, but your services here are no longer required."

"Suit yourself," she shrugged. Either way, she'd already been paid.

"Whoa, whoa, I paid good money for this, and for a full hour!" Caleb interjected, as though reading her mind, "Lola, darlin', you just stay right there. He's a p.reacher's boy, so you know how it goes -- 'pissy 'n' pious jitters' and all that."

Normally, this is where she would have cooed, uttered a sentiment about his stage fright, and reassured him in an attempt to coax him into bed, but she managed to catch a glimmer of something in his eyes that told her to use a different tactic. The usual wouldn't work on him. He wasn't just a man in need of a fuck because he was horney. Rather, he was a man in need of one because he was in heartache.

That was something she could work with.

Prompting conversation was the right path here. Lola didn't like to brag (yes, she did), but she was a true delight in conversation. Contrary to popular belief, she actually did spend most of her time talking with her clients. Besides, that often meant more opportunities for further pay.

"Thank you, Lieutenant, but I believe the Major and I can take it from here. If he doesn't wish to fuck me, then he needn't get his pego wet. I'm afraid you won't be taking your coin back though. Sorry, no refunds."

Despite his clear nature to protest, one look from Major Tall.madge and Brew.ster reluctantly retreated, muttering as he took his leave.

"Don't be too cross with him, sir. He meant well," Lola reassured, offering a coy little pout, "But regardless, he did pay for a full hour, so if you'd rather talk, my ears are yours to bend."

Her euphemism prompted an unabashed smirk.

[flabby-flattie-fatties]

Zeri and Lena have a race, who wins?

An unlikely meeting.

As the stars and the planets aligned, for a few hours, two dimensions connected with each other.

At first, both sides were quite puzzled, one more than the other. However, as the sudden impact faded away, more friendships started to shine.

None, however, were as intense as that of Lena and Zeri. Both women were major fitness freaks, telling tales about how they outran entire vehicles, times where they made fun of enemies while dancing around them, truthfully something to be said about their more jokey and cocky nature.

However, something else they shared was their completely obliviousness to their gain. Lena was in sort of denial that would puzzle even the best of psychologists, meanwhile, Zeri knew she had gone up in weight, however, she never fully realized how much, in her eyes she was simply getting energy stored for when she would actually lose weight.

Both looked at the woman in front of them, thinking how someone who used to be so fit could get so absurdly big, being thankfully that they weren't like them.

It was then that a group of women approached them. Two chunky girls and a tall slender woman, all three with a massive smirk on their face.

“It's nice to see you're making new friends, Zeri" Vayne said with a smug smile as she took a sip of her drink.

“As soon as these lovely ladies told me about you, I knew you and miss Oxton would get along. However, I can help but think that this a perfect chance for a once in a lifetime opportunity"

“Race race race race!!" Shouted the chunky girl dressed in a cat suit "You're both, like, suuuper speedy rum rum! Wouldn't it be fun if you both ran against the other and made this super big energy tornado or something?"

“I greatly disagree with that hypothesis, however, I do agree that seeing you both test your limits would be amusing" the taller woman as she pointed towards the race track.

Both obese women looked at each other, they really didn't feel like running today, however, seeing just how big their opponent was, they decided it was worth a shot, maybe it would be the wakeup call the other needed to start a diet.

“I'm game, I never back down from a challenge"

"Well, be prepared to eat my dust!" Lena said with a big grin, as both shook hands and headed off to the track... Not before finishing off their meal, energy for the race and all.

As they got to the track, both women were already sweating slightly; the battle bunny girl taking deep breaths as she brushed off the sweat from her brow, meanwhile, Lena was resting against her knees, her booty sticking out of her leggings, but she was too tired to get them back up.

“Alright, we don't want to make this too long, so it will be only one lap. First to come back to the starting point wins” Vayne said as she raised a flag in the air. Then, as soon as she brought it down, the race began.

Well, race was a bit of an understatement, it was more of a rapid waddle.

This track would've been nothing for Zeri and Lena back in their prime, the race would've been over in a minute at most. Now? Already 30 seconds had passed and they had barely even left the starting point.

The sounds of heavy breathing and wheezing filled the air, as both women waddled as fast as their chunky legs could take them. Rolls smacking against rolls, shirts ridding up, exposing all that pale flabby lard quaking and wobbling like the flag in a storm.

Sweat poured down their entire bodies, their faces red from exhaustion, their once toned legs now having lost every ounce of muscle they once had, stuck in a life of pure laziness, being left unused sometimes for entire days in a row.

Moira, Vayne, and Jinx were more than able to keep up with the wobbling butterballs even while slowly walking, meanwhile, the others were going at their top speeds.

It didn't take long before both of them needed a breather having to stop, not even a quarter of the way in, already having "ran" for 2 minutes straight. Enough to make the piggies ready to pass out.

However, they had nothing to fear, as their little helpers were ready to come to their aid.

Moira walked up to Lena, making sure to free her belly from under her leggings and lifting her shirt up, letting all that lard ventilate. She pushed a cinnamon roll past her lips, Tracer barely even registering it, she was so tired she was pretty much in autopilot.

Meanwhile, Jinx and Vayne we're making sure their bunny was as stuffed as she could be. They rubbed her belly as they fed her drink after drink, shoving slices of Sarah's "special" carrot cake, whispering to her ear how good she was being, causing her to just keep eating.

After the little pit stop was over, the race continued. At first, despite both of their pathetic performances, Zeri had been in the lead, mostly due to her lower weight. However, after being stuffed so much, the poor girl was struggling to carry her belly around as "fast" as she did before.

She was letting out burps and hiccups between her heavy breaths, having to rub her swollen belly every few steps just to try to calm down.

Lena took this chance, however, it wasn't ever to catch up. Her stamina was laughable, even just a tiny little sprint made her legs feel like they were on fire; she was gaining ground, but it was like a single step every 30 seconds.

After 8 minutes, 4 of which must have been spent resting and "restoring energy", the race was coming to a close. Both girls were neck and neck, their hearts beating a thousand times a minute, their breath being shallowed, their body ready to give up. Both just wanted to crash down and stuff themselves with something greasy or sugary for days to come; however, their ego proved too strong.

In the final seconds, Zeri had to stop, her belly was too stuffed to give another step right now, and at that moment, Lena's hefty gut crossed the finished line first.

Both women collapsed on the floor, their bellies sticking out in the air as their sweaty bodies tried to recover.

“Great work Oxton, I knew there was no way our top athlete would lose that” Moira said as she approached, rubbing and kneading the others gut as she gently fed her more and more food. The obese Brit glad to see she was still top of the top, and even happier to finally have some food.

“Don't worry Zeri, you'll get her next time. I guess that just means you have to bulk up more"

“Yeah Sparks, just relax and let us help you get that runner bod again" Jinx and Vayne said as they rubbed her body, her wobbly arms, her small chest, all the while feeding her more and more cake. Zeri wanted to say something, but she didn't have the air to let words out. She simply nodded as she kept eating.

[spider-man-199999]

Web love || Spider-Man 4

Summary: Spider-Man saved you that one time when you needed him and now he comes and checks up on you every single day. 

Author's note: I'm honestly so demotivated to write this part since the whole series flopped and idk why

previously on web love: part 1 part2  part 3 

this pic is a representation of how Peter feels about his mixed feeling in this fic 

      "...Life often times opens doors we never really expected to ever be open. And often times these new opportunities lead us to experiencing things we never have dreamed of. And these experiences shape us into the person we become. But sometimes the person we see in the mirror is not the person we want to be. Taking particular roles in life bring us misery, especially when we are not mentally prepared to meet other's expectations for this "social role". And now that we have grown up, we have gone this far, who do we owe it to? When you look back on your life you realize that it's not the groundbreaking turning point that has made us who we are but it was the little everyday things like meeting someone new, doing things you have never done before and generally having the courage to put yourself out there in the world are actually the things that really change us. Those are the things that speak for us the loudest in society and those are the things to which I owe who I am now." Peter's voice rang in the classroom as he read his English essay, his palms sweaty and his cheeks rosy. After he finished his speech the teacher thanked him and told him to sit down and as he walked down to this seat he flipped Ned off, who was filming him with his phone the whole time. 

"What are you doing, nuthead?" Peter whispered to him 

"I'm going to send this to Y/N, she helped you write that and wanted me to tell her how it went. But we live in the 21st century so I thought it would be better to show her instead''

"Sure, fine, even though I probably look like a dumbass-" he started saying as the teacher shushed them. Peter shook his head, getting a text from you. 

Killsforpills: So, I heard the reading went well.

Spywalker: Not bad, not bad 

Killsforpills: PUBG after school?

Spywalker: I have work

Killsforpills: Ok, I'll be playing if you decide to join at some point

After the last time Spider-man had come to visit he had vanished once again. You would spend most of your free time just playing videogames and doing school work. Keeping your thoughts occupied was the best way for your to not go insane after everything. Deadpool stopped showing up as well, which left you thinking that maybe this insanity was finally over for good. Maybe it was time to turn the page and try to find a boyfriend or something. Everyone around seemed occupied with someone else, Peter and MJ, Ned and some girl from their school. You felt left out, crying yourself to sleep more times than you would wish for. 

                                                             **

Spidey, of course, was not happy about the fact either. He would always check up on you when he could, come see you as much as possible. The issue was that he felt like he had made a really big mess when he visited the last time. He was feeling like a hot mess as well, all these things happening to him. The pressure of being Spider-man, the guilt of lying to MJ about his feelings, the pain from seeing you hurt. It was all piling up, making him slowly lose his mind in all the stress. He would get injure more often than before, do worse on his test. He even seemed to space out often enough to make Ned and MJ worried about him. He would brush it off and tell them not to pay him attention ‘’it’s just superhero things’’ he would say and put on a fake smile for them. It got to the point where Ned had to call and make you try and get something out of him 

“You have to call him and make him play a game together! Please, he refuses to talk to us! We need you to find something out....’‘ Ned whined through the phone, convincing you to help him.

“I don’t mean to be rude but why don’t you ask MJ? She’s his girlfriend, surely she’ll get more out of him than me.”

“We tried everything, you’re our last hope! Maybe he needs someone he doesn’t see every single day to open up to! Just try, ok?’‘ 

‘‘Ok, fine, I’ll try’‘ You agreed with a sigh escaping your lips. 

The ringing sound was filling your ear as you had already dialed Peter, trying to reach him. After a few rings you gave up on the call, throwing your phone on the bed behind you and messaging Ned. 

Killsforpills: He’s not picking up

Iamfriendswithsidey: Call him again. PLEASE

Killsforpills: Surely he would have picked up if he wanted to talk, maybe he’s busy.

You heard the vibrations from behind you, turning to see Peter calling you. Rushing to pick up you stumbled in the bed, groaning as you hit your leg and rolled on the bed, picking up.

‘‘Hey, you called’‘ You barely heard the boy’s voice from what seemed like wind 

‘‘Yeah, I was wondering if you wanted to play some Minecraft, ouch’‘

“What’s wrong?’‘

‘‘Fuck, um nothing, I hit my leg in the bed and it’s bleeding’‘ 

‘‘I’ll be over in a bit’‘ 

‘‘Wait, I....’‘ he had already hung up. 

You felt kind of bad, maybe he thought it was a serious injury and that’s why he was rushing over but in reality it was just a scratch and he was going to go out of his way for nothing. After what seemed an eternity you heard the doorbell, walking over to open the door. Peter walked in with a worried expression on his face, scanning you to see where the injury was.

‘‘What happened? Are you alright?” He asked as he threw his bag on the couch and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the bathroom.

‘‘Peter, it’s literally just a scratch, you shouldn’t have walked all the way here! I can take care of that’‘ 

He didn’t even bother to listen to you, sitting you down on the edge of the tub and looking through the cabinet for rubbing alcohol and bandages. 

‘‘It’s going to sting’‘ He said in a serious tone, cleaning the wound. 

‘‘You don’t need to do this for just a scratch’‘

He looked up, his gaze piercing right through your body, making you shiver. 

‘‘You’ve done it too many times for me’‘

‘‘I haven’t?”

‘‘I mean you would have done it for me too’‘ he said suddenly embarrassed, placing a plaster on the scratch and getting up. 

‘‘Hey, what’s with your hands?’‘ His hands were all covered in plaster and bandage

‘‘It’s nothing, work stuff’‘ 

‘‘Peter, I’m serious, what’s going on? Ned and MJ are very worried about you, you cut me off every time I try to spend time with you, what’s wrong? You know you can tell me. You’ve been acting kind of odd lately.’‘ 

He looked up, one eye squinting lightly because of the light above you. He put on a fake smile, packing the things he used back. 

‘‘I really do think it would be best for you if you didn’t know’‘ he said softly and got up, walking out of the bathroom and sitting on the kitchen counter (like Spider-man used to do every time he would hag out), grabbing a glass and pouring himself a glass of orange juice. Everything felt oddly familiar when you saw he scene. The way his legs hung, the way he threw his head back as he drank, his jawline. Even the way he wiped his mouth with his sleeve sparked some weird sensation in your chest. You tried to brush it off, trying not to think about it and sat down on the couch, turning the tv on. You two spent the evening playing Minecraft together but by the time Peter had to go it felt like you made little to no progress with him. I guess talking about feelings was not his thing. 

                                                              ***

After Peter left your apartment that night, you couldn’t sleep well. After hours of spinning and tossing around in your bed, all the memories of Spider-Man kept rushing through your head, his voice, the way he talked, the way he moved, everything was adding up in your head, it felt like you were about to explode. You never really spent much time with Peter, especially alone, so you never really had a close observation on his behaviour. Yet, somehow, everything clicked. The clock was striking 2 am when you decided maybe it was finally time to confront the situation. Your feelings were getting caught up in the mix as well, making it even worse. It really did feel like your head was spinning, you couldn’t breathe well, your heart was beating so fast it was going to explode just like your head. A panic attack? You’d didn’t know what to do. The only person you knew you need to talk to was Peter. So, almost on impulse, you picked up your phone and dialled his number. You heard the dial in your ear, it was so loud you had to pull the phone slightly away form your face. Just as you did that, the dial stopped and you heard a faint voice from the small device.

“Hello?”

Your breathing got heavier, your heart started beating faster and the room really started spinning.

“Hello? Y/N, are you alright?” The words echoed in the room, a bit more clear this time, you felt tears rolling down your cheeks.

“N-no” you managed to whisper through heavy breaths

“Where are you?” Peter asked, starting to panic himself, which made you more worried.

“Home” you said softly, breaking down in a cry at this point

“Okay, listen to me. I want you to breathe slowly, follow my lead” he told you, voice still panicked as he started taking deep breaths, listening closely to you as you started copying him. “I’m on my way to you, okay? Just keep breathing”

“I’m so sorry” you muffled out, through soft cries, handing up form the panic and breaking down. You didn’t expect to have a panic attack when you called him, or for it to get worse when you did. You didn’t expect him to actually come around, but he did, at 2:30 am, he was knocking on your door.

You had managed to calm down a bit at that point, opening the door a bit hesitantly. His heart shattered when he saw you like that, immediately hugging you and closing the door behind him.

“What’s wrong? What happened? How can I help?” He asked as he held you close, his scent filled your nostrils and eased your nerves a little bit. You could hear his heartbeat. Why was it so fast? Was was this so scary?

“I want you to be honest with me.” You said against his chest, pulling away shortly after so you could look at his face. “Are you… God this sounds so crazy, I promise I’m not crazy! Are you Spider-Man?”

The words spilled out and it suddenly became silent. Peter let go of you, hands going through his hair as he nervously paced around. He didn’t really manage to put a much of an outfit, he was in sweatpants and a loose white T-shirt that moved up with the motion of his hands and exposed his lower stomach. He seemed like he was having a crisis, walking around, squatting down. He looked very nervous and overwhelmed. Was he the one having a panic attack now? The boy stared at the floor, his hair was all messed up, remaining squat down as he exhaled heavily.

“How… did you find out?” He asked coldly, not looking at you.

                                                              ***

Iamfriendswithspidey: Did you talk to Peter?

The messaged popped up on your screen as you were in the middle of a fight with Peter. You both looked at the phone that was on the couch, the screen showing 3:45 am. Shit, you had been arguing for more than an hour now. The nervous pacing continued for a while from both of you, but the tiredness and the emotional drain was so bad it made you sit down, him on the counter and you on the backrest of the couch, looking at him.

"What did you tell him?" Peter asked, feeling defeated already

"Nothing at all, he asked me to check up on you because you were acting weird and distant. Never got to the point of figuting out what was wrong with you." You replied, voice filled with anger and sadness. The text message was followed by a call, with both of you staing at the screen as it rang, so you could gather your thoughts.

"So..." You broke the silence after Ned gave up "We're set on how you became Spider-man... Care to explain everything else?" You crossed your hands in front of your chest.

"I-" he started, looking down at his lap almost like he was building up the courage. "Well... you see... I don't even know how to explain something I don't understand myself"

"You can try, becuase I'm dying to know why you would do something like this"

"What did I do exactly?"

"Peter...What didn't you do?" You said in frustration, getting up and pacing around again "You would come here, spend time with me for a month straight, every fucking day. You would make me laugh and comfort me and get to know me and all of that bullshit and then leave like it meant nothing! Did it really mean nothing to you?''

"Of course it meant something!'' he jumped off the counter catching up to you to grab your arm "I wouldn't have done any of this if you meant less. I overstepped all of my boundries to be here with you.''

You looked at him, tears starting to stream down your face.

"So you could abandon me? Like you didn't care? Like I was nothing? I spent weeks crying, trying to figure out what I did wrong to push you away" You pulled away from his grip, breaking down in front of him. You could see his emotions getting the better of him as well, his breathing rapid and sharp, his fist clenching.

"You thought it was easy for me too?" He asked, anger bubbling up in his chest. "To have so many people dependent on you? To be constantly scared that the people you care most about could end up hurt because of you?"

"So you thought disappearing on them would make it all better?"

"No, not at all" He let out a sigh, looking down at his lap again. "It just got so complicated, the more I came over, the closer we got and then I just-" He looked back up, looking at your teary eyes "I couldn't help it, I really couldn't, we clicked so well and it was so easy with you and I... I just fell for you, so hard, I was terrified, I couldn't tell you as Spider-Man, I couldn't tell you I was Spider-Man... I had to find some other solution"

"You know what the worst part about this is" you said between sobs "It's that I feel in love with you too''.

He pulled you in after that, hugging you tightly. You tried pushing him but he was much stronger. You cried into his chest, gripping his shirt. He didn't say anything, hot tears streaming down his cheeks as he rested his chin on top of your head.

"Stop" you begged him "Please stop doing this, now that I know it's you, it hurts even worse"

"Why?" He asked, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible

"Because you're dating someone else" you said, helplessly hitting his chest with your fist, trying to make him let go. "Please let me go, I can't do this"

"I'm not letting you go" He shook his head, kissing your forehead "I'm never letting you go, I'm sorry for everything, if I were more of a man, none of this would have happened''

You continued helplessly hitting him, crying in his arms. He hugged you tighter, crying into your hair.

"I would understand if you never want to see me again" he whispered.

"I don't hate you, Peter'' you whispered back. "I just need some time to process all of this"

[askagamedev]

Hi I'm a dev that has moved around a lot, I've not spent more than 2 years on a project and after working at a failed start up, I am struggling to find employment and I really don't understand why. I know I can do the jobs that I am applying for and would be able to add value to teams and projects. I'm not sure what more I can do to make myself employable. I'm beginning to worry that I've been tarred with a certain brush because I've readily left studios to pursue other opportunities.

In my experience, if you are finding yourself stalled in the job search and you feel your sample size is sufficient, it is time to examine the evidence and decide whether you need to adjust your strategy. The hiring process is fairly boilerplate.

Submit your resume/CV and cover letter if you have one

Phone/Video Conference Interview

Technical or skills take-home test

On-site or Video Conference Interview

Job Offer

As you pass each step, you proceed to the next. If a job seeker cannot expect to advance to a particular step regularly, it likely means that the previous step needs some work. Many new to the industry don't get callbacks because their CVs aren't properly tailored to the job they hope to get. Others have difficulty with interviews thanks to nerves. The important thing is to identify what step you're having trouble with and focus on improving it. I noticed that I would often make it to the take-home test part of any candidacy, but would most often get the rejection or radio silence after completing the test. I then started doing review passes on my own work and asking others I trusted to help review my work before submitting my exams, and that significantly improved my overall advancement to the on-site interview stage. Practicing interviews with others or getting someone to review your resume may help things advance.

Finding a job has an element of luck involved - there's your skills, there's what the employer is looking for, and there's the timing window where both of you line up and find each other within that window. Sometimes a job opportunity just isn't the right fit for you. We can't really control those. What we can control, however, is minimizing any unforced errors we might make so that we don't sabotage ourselves when the opportunity presents itself. We do this by identifying our weak points in the hiring process and focus on improving them. We can use our overall job-hunting process results as a metric for evaluating our progress.

[Join us on Discord] and/or [Support us on Patreon]

Got a burning question you want answered?

Short questions: Ask a Game Dev on Twitter

Long questions: Ask a Game Dev on Tumblr

Frequent Questions: The FAQ

[roseofdarknessblog]

Anatomy lesson (Reiner Braun x Reader)

Word count: 1 705

Disclaimer: english is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes

Warning: modern AU, slight nsfw

Summary: Being a med student was never easy. But your beloved boyfriend Reiner Braun was eager to help you get your degree. Even if it involved long hours of helping you study and occasionally being your test subject. Or in this case, the best study partner for going over your old anatomy lessons.

Anatomy lesson

For someone who hated studying so much you chose the hardest degree in the entire universe. Medicine fascinated you your entire life. You dreamed of becoming a doctor since you were just a little girl. And now here you were... only a few months from graduating med school with amazing grades and a lot of opportunities for future residencies.  

Did it make you happy? Yes, of course.

Did it also ruin your life on a daily basis? Yes, of course.

„Hey there, sweetheart,“ said a familiar voice as soft lips kissed you behind your left ear. Strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind and pulled you into a tight hug. Your back lightly bumped into a broad chest you loved using as a pillow. „Can I join you?“

„You scared me, where did you come from? I didn’t hear you unlocking the front door,“ you said a little shaken, looking over your shoulder at the familiar face. Hot water from the shower had already soaked his blond hair and made the longer strands stuck to his forehead. „How long have you been home?“

„Ten minutes maybe, don’t know. I wanted to wait for you in the living room, but you always take forever in the shower.“

„Yeah, I’m guilty of that,“ you admitted and gently brushed your lips against his mouth. „How was your day at work, darling?“

„Tiring as usual, but nothing a good warm shower with you couldn't wash away,“ Reiner said softly, his voice making you feel pleasantly warm on the inside.

You lived for long and impossibly hot showers. It was one of your favorite ways to unwind after a long and hard day. And today had been one of those. Even though you spent it at home, the last twelve hours were filled with studying, studying, and more studying. Just like the last couple of days. But despite that, you still felt like you knew absolutely nothing.

„And how was your day? You barely replied to my texts.“

„Filled with anatomy, mostly. I was going through old pre-recorded lessons from our professor, taking additional notes, making some new flashcards and stuff like that.“

„That’s why you’re listening to... whatever the hell you are listening to right now. Usually, you just blast some music while you shower and sing along, but today...“ said Reiner with a quiet laugh as the voice of your professor kept speaking from the laptop placed on the washing machine.

You felt guilty about taking a long break since you still didn’t cover all the study material you wanted today. Taking your laptop to the bathroom with you and leaving on one of the lectures was a fairly good tactic. But just until you almost completely zoned out and paid more attention to the water drops running down the walls.

„I don’t think I can contain any more information even though I am just going over materials I've already studied. But at the same time, I have a feeling that I know absolutely nothing. Like you can ask me about any topic and I’m just gonna blanky stare at your face like you were speaking in some foreign language.“

„You say that every time and then come home with the best grade possible,“ he says, leaning against your bare back and kissing you on the shoulder. „I'm sure you know everything you need, you've had anatomy before and did great. And the exam is next week you still have plenty of time to study some more.“

„I don’t think I have any energy left for that.“

„Come on, the finish line is just a few steps away. You made it too far to give up now.“

„I’m not giving up, just...“ you breathed and quickly turned around in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. Your and Reiner’s height difference was all fun and games until you had trouble kissing him whenever you wanted. He needed to bow his head a little so you could reach his lips comfortably. „I’m tired, Reiner.“

„But you’re doing great, baby. I’m really proud of everything you do every single day. Even the tiniest, most ordinary things.“

„But the tiniest and most ordinary things are not gonna get me my medical degree.“

„Maybe not, but they are an important part of our lives. You can’t just focus on one thing and ignore the rest. Life comes as this one really big thing made out of million smaller ones which are all almost equally important.“

You smiled a little and placed another kiss on his soft lips. Kissing Reiner was one of the single best things in the whole wide world. And you had the privilege to do so for the last four years. The two of you met just before you started med school, so he’s been with you through it all. Your best and worst days. He helped you study for many exams and sat with you patiently when you needed a volunteer to learn anatomy for the very first time or practice clinical skills before your rotations in the hospital.

He was always there. Always. Supporting you and loving you every step of the way. Helping out with housework, mostly cleaning and cooking when he had time after or sometimes even before going to work himself. You couldn’t imagine your life without him by your side. Some days you were so overwhelmed by the love he made you feel that you couldn't even remember how you used to live before meeting Reiner.

Were you truly living or just surviving? Waiting in the shadows for the greatest gift the universe had to offer?

Med school was undeniably hard and it took a lot of your free time. You spent long hours with your nose stuck in books and study materials, and even longer hours in the hospital wards. But Reiner was patient. He planned cute small dates, waited for you after your unpaid shifts at the hospital, and planned his own schedule around your needs.

You viewed him as the most stable element in your life.

And for that, you were eternally grateful.

„I believe in you, sweetheart. You can do anything you set your mind to,“ he said lovingly, cradling you in his strong embrace, and pulling you even closer to his chest.

There weren’t enough words in this universe you could use to express your love for this man. You were just so unbelievably grateful for his presence in your life. He could turn even your worst days into ones with beautiful memories and lots of love.

„Do you want to study some more tonight?“ You nodded your head, gently brushing your lips against his collarbone. One of your hands travels up his muscular back, rubbing soothing circles on his warm skin. „And would you like me to help you?“

„You should rest, Reiner.“

„I have a day off tomorrow so I’ll have plenty of time to rest then. Tonight I’m all yours.“

„How did I get this lucky?“

Without an answer, Reiner made you take some steps backward until your back lightly hit the wet wall. His hands came down to your hips, gently squeezing them as his lips found yours again. His kisses became more and more passionate, loving, and tender at the same time.

„You look so beautiful with your hair wet,“ he whispered into your lips, proceeding to plant small kisses along your jaw and neck. „Just so so beautiful,“ he continued in a low, raspy voice. His lips swept over your collarbone, lovingly kissing one concrete spot before he sucked the skin between his teeth.

„Reiner...“

Your body tensed a little, and your breath caught in your lungs as a soft whimper escaped your mouth. Reiner smiled against your skin, sliding his right hand down your thigh, the other one still resting on your hip.

„You wanted help with anatomy, right? I think this is the best and most efficient way. Practical skills before theory, am I right?“ he asked jokingly before kissing you between your breasts and sliding both of his hands around your waist and down under your butt. His toned muscular arms picked your up with ease.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you kissed his lips again, playfully taking his lower lip between your teeth. „I’m not so sure, Reiner. How should this help me pass my final exams?“ you asked just a little out of breath, gazing right into his golden eyes. Gosh, you loved their color so much. In the sunlight, they sometimes looked like pools of sweet honey.

„I’ll show you in a bit, sweetheart.“

„Oh, okay. Go ahead, big boy,“ you teased him and cupped his face in your hands. He didn’t have time to shave this morning, but you didn’t complain even a little bit. The slight stubble around his chin, and lips looked really good on him.

„But we should move to the bedroom, it has a better... vibe for this kind of activity.“

„As you wish,“ you whispered submissively, reaching out your hand and without looking stopping the shower. Cold air almost immediately brushed against your heated skin, making you shiver in Reiner’s embrace. „Just be careful and don’t slip on the wet tiles like last time. You almost broke my arm.“

„That was a stupid inconvenience, and it won’t happen again. I’m always being careful with you.“

„Just until you lose yourself in the heat of the moment.“ Your lips pressed a small kiss to the right corner of his mouth as he carefully stepped out of the shower. He was always very careful and gentle around you like he was afraid of accidentally hurting you in any way. „Shouldn't we grab a couple of towels or dry ourselves first? The whole bed will be wet otherwise.“

„Who cares,“ Reiner murmured into your ear and made his way to your shared bedroom.

Your laptop stayed in the bathroom, the professor's voice from the pre-recorded lecture still sounding through the apartment. His anatomy lectures were always one of your favorites. But they were just too theoretical.

Nothing could've compared to the anatomy lessons you taught yourself with the eager help of your boyfriend.

[jerzwriter]

No One Else... Part 1 of 2

Book:                   Open Heart (Book 3 Timeline)

Pairing:                Tobias Carrick x F!MC (Casey)

Featuring: Ethan Ramsey, Sienna Trinh, etc.

Rating:                 Teen +

Category:            Fluffish

Warnings: Maybe some cursing

Summary:   Misunderstandings, changes in plans, a blast from the past, and secret admirers threaten to turn Tobias & Caseye's first second Valentine's Day upside down.

Part One: An unexpected message disrupts Tobias & Casey's blissful morning together. But just when Tobias assumes all is well, there's another surprise... and then another.

Words: 2,092

A/N: I'm not sure where this came from - but it did. It seems angsty at first, but it really won't be, it's going to erupt into chaos - but that can be comical. lol Part one centers mostly around Tobias & Casey, but others (namely Ethan and Sienna) will be getting pulled in toward the end and will show up more in Part 2. I hope you enjoy this! @choices-february2023 - Day 14 - Valentine's Day / @choicesficwriterscreations Valentine Event / @choicesmonthlychallenge To Be... Trust Me" "I'm Yrs Or... Call me Not to Be... Not Happening - @choicesholidays Prompt #1 This isn't what I imagined a relationship would be...

Tobias & Casey Masterlist My Full Masterlist

Tobias hurried into his office, quickly shutting the door behind him. Alone at last, he wasn’t giving anyone the opportunity to sneak in. Collapsing into his soft leather chair, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This had not been the morning he ordered.

He and his beautiful in every way girlfriend had been official for nearly a year now, and, to the amazement of everyone who knew him before, the man had never been happier. But this morning, their normally unflappable relationship was… well… not “flapped”… but experiencing more tension than they were accustomed to.

The day started well, nothing out of the ordinary. Tobias groggily hit snooze when his alarm went off. But instead of cursing it like he used to, he rolled over with a satisfied smile. Waking up to Casey was something he never took for granted. So even when the alarm went off the second time, he didn't fret. After kissing her on the forehead he shuffled into the bathroom.

A stretch and a long yawn got his system stirring, then his morning routine began. Ever the multitasker, he hit play on his voicemail before brushing his teeth in the bathroom mirror. Message number one:

….Hello, Dr. Tanaka here. I was hoping we could move our 2 PM consult on Alex Porter up a bit in light of his test results. Let me know when you arrive at the hospital, and we’ll take it from there…

That’s when he caught a glimpse of Casey creeping toward him in the mirror. Her eyes still half-shut, she lovingly wrapped her arms around his waist and nuzzled her sleepy head on his shoulder. He rinsed quickly, eager to properly kiss her good morning. Their lips were just inches away when the next message began to play.

…Tobias Carrick?....

Just two words were all it took. Casey felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and Tobias wasn't far behind.

 …It is so good to hear your voice! Even if it’s just your message. It’s Beverly, love, it’s been so long you have probably forgotten what I sound like….

The voice had a playful, seductive quality that was impossible to miss.  Casey, who typically required at least two hours and twice that amount of coffee to be fully conscious, woke up in a flash.

… It was so hard to track you down! When I think of you and hard in the same sentence, it's not usually about finding your phone number...

As Beverly giggled, Casey reached over to shut off the phone, but Tobias grabbed her wrist to stop her.

“No,” he insisted. “I am not hiding anything from you; so let's listen together.”

… I’m offended that you didn’t give your new number to me! Luckily, I can think of a dozen things you can do to make it up to me. I’m going to the convention at the Cleveland Clinic, and I'm hoping you'll be there this year, too. If so, I have a luxury suite… hot tub, an enormous bed, and a beautiful view… you can certainly bunk up with me and help me put them to good use. I miss you, Tobias. Call me!...

Casey stared quietly at the floor when the message ended, and Tobias reached over to shut off his phone.

“Casey, I didn’t reach out to her," he started, his voice both calming and filled with concern. "I’m only going to contact her to let her know I’m happily off the market…”

“I know,” she mumbled, still looking away. Tobias gently lifted her chin to face him again.

“I don’t know how she got my new number….”

“I know,” Casey muttered. “I know… and I’m not… I’m not mad at you.”

Tobias knew her too well; she may not be mad… but she was something, and he hated being part of anything that brought her even the smallest bit of worry.

“Talk to me, baby. What are you feeling?"

“It’s just…” she let out a deep sigh. “It’s been a while since we’ve had something like this happen. Your Boston following knows you're with me now, so it's leveled off. But your national… or is it international?”

“Casey….” he trailed.

“Who was she? You’ve told me about a lot of your former dalliances, but  I don’t recall a Beverly….”

“Because she wasn’t significant. We met at a conference… a long time ago, and… on occasion,” he stumbled. “If we found ourselves in the same place, at the same time….”

Casey held up her hand, signaling for him to stop. “I get it… and you don’t owe me an explanation. Look,” She said, taking his face in her hands, “No one enjoys hearing a partner's former lover attempting to seduce them. But, T… we’re both adults, and we have histories."

“You’re not upset?” he asked. “I know in the past, things like this bothered you...."

“Mmm-hmm,” she interrupted. “In the past. I know what we are, and I trust you. Just take care of letting her know you'll be in Boston... and you're all mine!"

“And then I’m blocking her number,” he smiled.

“Good…” Casey half-smiled. “I’m not going to let this ruin our first Valentine’s Day.”

“It’s our second!” He insisted.

“No, it’s not,” she grinned. “It'll be fine, but baby... I hope there are no more calls!”

“If there are, I’ll toss my phone into the fireplace.”

“That might be a bit extreme,” she chuckeled, placing a peck on his cheek. Then she was off to get ready for work.

~~~~~

Everything was fine. That's what Tobias told himself as they drove to work. At least it seemed fine. He didn’t let go of her hand the entire trip, which wasn’t uncommon, but the lingering silence was. His mind raced back to the early days of their relationship. Back then, Casey was coping with a lot. Her insecurities and dealing with his … rep… weren't the easiest things for her to deal with. But they moved beyond that, and now,  they were titanium. Right? That wouldn’t happen again. So why was his heart racing a little faster?

It didn’t matter, he convinced himself. Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day, their second… though she insisted it was their first. Whatever the number, he already planned on making his girl feel extra special, but now? Now he was really going to go all out.

He parked in his spot and proceeded to stare out the windshield.  

“Tobias?” Casey asked waving her hand in front of his face “We’re here.”

He startled a bit, breaking out of the fog he was lost in. 

“Sorry, I was a little….”

“You were driving me to work in this condition?” She laughed.

“I knew exactly what I was doing. Come on,” he said, taking her hand, “Let’s get to our meeting before Ramsey has our heads.”

~~~~~

Like the morning, the meeting started off well. Harper brought coffee… good coffee, even better than that stuff Ethan liked to brag about so much. And Ethan was in a good mood, much better than usual. Tobias made a mental note to get an answer about why out of him after when they were alone. Cases were discussed, and they were about to leave when…

“Just one more item before we adjourn,” Ethan stated. “Tobias, I’m going to need you to fill in for me at the conference in Cleveland.”

“OK, boss,” he started, then a realization struck him, and he furrowed his brow. “Wait.. the Cleveland conference? Aren't you presenting on the Alton research?”

“Yes,” Ethan smiled, almost smugly. “But no need to tailspin, Carrick. You’re up to the task or I wouldn’t have asked you.”

Tobias sneered in his friend's direction. “I can handle it with my eyes closed, wiseass! But it's tomorrow!”

“I know it’s last minute, but it can’t be avoided. The Board is holding an emergency meeting, and I’ve been told my presence is not optional. It’s only three days, Tobias, you can manage….”

“But it’s Valentine’s Day,” Tobias blurted, earning a little snort from Harper.

“I’m sorry,” she said, clearing her throat. “It’s just Tobias Carrick caring about Valentine’s Day? I never thought I’d live to see the day!”

“He has had a personal growth metamorphosis within the past few years,” Ethan teased.

Tobias looked across the way at Casey. She smiled supportively, but once again, her eyes didn’t mirror that smile. Then he heard Beverly’s voice in his head:

I’m going to the convention at the Cleveland Clinic, and I was wondering if you’d be there this year?

Aw, fuck! He thought, in fact, he may have said it out loud; he wasn’t sure. What he was sure of was he was on Ethan the second Harper and Casey left the room. He spent the next fifteen minutes unsuccessfully attempting to convince Ethan to send Harper in his stead.

“Harper wasn’t involved in the Alton case!” Ethan reiterated, his voice now bordering on shouting. “What’s with you? In the past, you would have been salivating at the chance to take this opportunity away from me. Now, you’re letting a Hallmark holiday do this to you?”

“I know,” Tobias rolled his eyes, “It’s just that it’s our first, and….”

Ethan raised an eyebrow, “According to Casey, it’s your first. According to you, it’s your second.”

Tobias didn’t appreciate the cocky look on his friend's face, even though he knew he was right. 

“Come on, Tobias. Casey is a grown woman and a professional. I’m sure she’ll be fine pushing your celebration off a few days.”

“You’re right,” Tobias sighed, walking toward the door. “Oh, and Ethan?”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to kick ass in that presentation. You’ll never be invited to speak there again!”

“Keep dreaming, Carrick," Ethan yelled as Tobias made his way down the hall.

~~~~~

Feeling a bit better, the familiar smile on his face and spring in his step were back. They were present as he greeted every passerby as he made his way to his office. But they weren't there for long. Passing a patient's room, he heard Casey and Sienna’s voices.

“I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything,” Sienna fretted. “Don’t let your mind wander.”

“I know that, Sienna,” Casey replied. “It’s just… after all the progress, I don’t want to go back to….”

“And, chances are you won’t,” Sienna assured. “You just need to be patient… let this play out.”

“I know….” Casey bemoaned. “But if it happens again, I just don’t think could take it. I'd have to move on from this."

“Look!” Sienna ordered. “You’re putting the cart before the horse. I know how much this means to you, but… so far, there is no indication that you have anything to worry about. Don’t break your heart if you don’t have to, Case. OK?”

Tobias’s blood went cold. Heartbreak? Can’t do this anymore? Was she this upset? And if so, why was she withholding this from him?

“Damn it!” He muttered, making haste to get to his office. What could he do to convince Casey that she had nothing to worry about? She was the love of his life and his heart sank at the thought of her going through this again. He thought they were past this. He thought she was secure in their love, and if she wasn’t… after all this time…. where did this leave them?

He slammed the door behind him, then sunk into his chair. It had been a hell of a morning, and he was taking a moment to relish the solitude and calm.

He would have to talk to her… to make her understand. But his mind was also on the holiday that he'd now be missing. He thought of ways to shower her with gifts, even if he wasn't there. He'd leave her notes… everywhere… text her all day… FaceTime at night… he'd make sure it was still special… as long as no more bullshit occurred.

That’s when it caught his eye. It looked benign enough, a little red envelope with a heart on his desk. A smile tugged at his lips. She must have dropped it off after their meeting; they had been together until then. Maybe he was blowing this out of proportion; perhaps this was all in his mind. If she was dropping off an early Valentine, things couldn't be that bad. He slid his fingers under the envelope flap and removed the note inside.

 “Roses are red, violets are blue, and on Valentine’s Day, the only thing I’m going to do … is you.”

A puff of air escaped his nose, and his hands fell to his side. Adorable. Cute. Sexy. At least it would have been… if it was Casey’s handwriting, but it wasn't.

A loud knock on the door startled him.

“Hey, Tobias, open up. I need to talk to you.”

His eyes screwed shut. The day had to get better.

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[kalitheinksimp]

...so, new year huh. It's sure been something.

Well, since i have nothing better to post, how about I use this opportunity to settle something?

The date that Amaryllis and Hibiscus were made on and their first arts i did of them in digital-

This is how Amary first looked like. Reason I made her was to test out my custom brushes on, but wasn't sure who.

So I had the genius idea of making a shipchild of Kali and Ink!.... but then I got attached-

Her design from this and the final one has not been changed too much, her hair has been slightly adjusted, and her dress is also slightly different, but overall she's the same.

Her birthdate would be roughly around the time the update of custom brushes came out on Ibis paint, so I'm making it be 8 april 2021

Now Hibiscus...her design has not changed at all in the final since she's pretty recent

We know why she was created, but she still went through several beta designs while I was making her sketch.

I was thinking about making her an even more shy character, but that would not make sense of fit well. Then i thought about making an adopted daughter character (because of a fic i read) but that idea was shut pretty quick as i litrally had no idea where to go with it

Then i came up with her final idea that maybe she would be that type of character that do anything for their loved ones, and would practice to be strong for them. And that idea is the one that fit the best in her dynamic with everyone.

And so, she was made on 3 October 2022

[quirkwizard]

Could you do a Quirk Analysis for New Order? The power to impose rules onto reality could be used in so many ways, it would be an opportunity to show some interesting super moves with what amounts to low-level reality warping! I mean the orders aren't omnipotent, they have a cut off point, plus only two can exist at once, but if I had that Quirk I would spend ages testing what it can and can't do, if clever wording can circumvent the limits, etc.

I've already kind of did an analysis for it, but I'm always up to rag on this Quirk

To no one's surprise, I still despise this Quirk. I dislike it more then any other Quirk in the series. It's frankly astounding how bad it is. It everything from it's lack of limits on the application, to the absurd power and scope of the Quirk, to the lack of any real creative application of the power. Nothing about this Quirks fits within in the world. The line "it redefines what a Quirk even is" haunts me to this day. Saying that doesn't make it any better or excuse how unfitting it is. And it being the crux of this whole mini arc without any time to establish it and then having it brushed under the rug is not great either. This feels like a power you'd get from an anime filler arc. It doesn't make any sense, but hey, it isn't canon, so it shouldn't bother you. But it is canon. So it does bother me.

There isn't a strong connection to Stars and Stripes as a character either. She's American, so give her the patriotic Quirk. It's the same kind of surface level connection you get for background characters. It's not even fun to think about with how it could be used. When it comes to theory crafting powers, it helps a lot to have a clear understanding of what it can and cannot do. Limitations foster creativity. It's what makes something like "Overhaul" so fun to think about, yet makes "New Order" so uninteresting. There isn't any limits to work around or enough showings to figure out what it can and cannot do when it comes to the orders. We've seen her catching lasers, so I guess anything is free game. So from top to bottom, this Quirk that has frustrated me to no end.