#seriously there's 7 free ones in here
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pleasedontcareaboutme · 2 months ago
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It's missing my father hours rn so imma just dump a bunch of pictures here and cry
( sorry i don't know the source of anything I just had them on my phone)
(also dont read the tags i just need to let it out lol)
#I just realized I can call him dad easier than my real dad and now I understand why am I so damn attached to him#I always knew he was a parental figure for me#but now I connected the dots#How when u have an absent dad and a d34d mom a guy shows up in ur life#that tells u life advice that both of ur parents failed to do so#and makes u feel safe the first time in ur life#ofc ud become attached#i know for sure its unhealthy how much i love and miss him#he occupies most of my thoughts honestly#But how could i not cling to him so much when he was the only one who gave me hope in life#i try to keep going and even tho he is not here i keep telling myself whatever he taught me. i keep reminding myself he wants us to live an#bloom and be free#and that's what ill try to do#but you know somedays i wish i could just disappear and be wrapped in eternal happiness#its so fucking hard to pull yourself out of the slump man im so fucking tired im so so tired#somedays i wish id have the courage to off myself but i know that deep down i want to live and ive always wanted to live but i have no idea#how to live. i feel like i finally found a purpose and someone i love. but at the same time im always doubting myself and im scared of losi#g this little hope again and i know i should cherish and use it instead but each day i have this anxiety because rn i have nothing else if#lose this i seriously will lose everything atp. but ill still try bc rn its this or death so i should try im just damn tired yes anyways#sorry for being depressing some days just dont work out but thats okay#yes at the same time i want to get out of my head and try to find some friends but i cant deny that im highkey fucked up and i just cant le#go of my past and i still feel like that helpless unloved kid and idk how to form relationships this way. i dont trust myself at all so idk#how to trust others. and i feel like in order to find ppl that would love me i have to overshare abt my whole lifestory bc it still dictate#my life heavily. and since i met this band its better cuz im learning to deal w it and i want to heal from everything but yes at the same t#me who would wqnt to be friends w. someone that has like a year of life experience and 18 years of depression lol#so yes its complicated. bc i have friends but im like the funny friend. the one that is as shallow as puddle and has no problems but honest#y im genuinely sufferint qnd have been sufferinz all my life so i want to come out of my funny friend role. but that wojld mean i have to t#ll the shit i went through to all my friends but tbh it would be so random so ye. i do have a plan though. how it could work. But yes im ti#ed have been tired for 7 years now. But this time around i hope i can successfully get out of this torture cycle lol.#ok sorry this is what happens after puberty guys i could beva research case for a damn mental institute atp xdd
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born-to-lose · 3 months ago
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I love being the always single person in my family, mad respect to my sister for constantly dating guys for the last 8 years, I would have shot myself
#whenever my mom asks if i have love news of my own while we're talking about my sister's newest catch and i say no#i hope she doesn't feel pity because like. this is the life that i choose. my sister's ex boyfriends were enough for ME even#and i only met a handful of them personally but heard more than enough shit about them#i just always think i'm only flirting with some guys only to never talk to them again or ghost them because it's fun#fat girl who's always been seen as ugly by other people gets to flirt with good looking people is the ultimate ego boost arc#if i ever date anyone seriously again it better be true love and end in kids and marriage until death or i'll live as a hermit#until that happens tho...... life is a party i don't wanna miss a thing break some men's heart get revenge yolo etc etc#also the thought of actively dating freaks me out. if i meet someone and we tolerate each other long term that's good#but dating apps or going on dates with several people and deciding who's the best like on the bachelorette?? death first#plus i lowkey don't like men as a concept. at least the type i've dated. i guess you could say my last ex traumatized me hahaha 👍🏻 (🔨🔨)#i think i'm too young to be in a committed relationship anyway. or even to seek getting into one. there are much more important things rn#i know former classmates my age are having kids or getting married but idgaf the one who got engaged last year has been with him for 7 year#which is a decent time tbh you change quite a bit during that time and if it feels right why not#but i can't wrap my head around searching for a relationship when you don't even have a stable job and know what else you want in life#rambling again sorryyyy but yeah proud single here and i'm not saying this out of spite because i genuinely enjoy it#all relationships i've been in were so draining (tbf they were long distance too) and got me at rock bottom and had me filled with regret#also these men can be so controlling and jealous when you just wanna go out with friends while they do whatever they want too#but when you say you don't want a jealous partner they think that's a free pass for them to cheat like what the actual fuck#do you see the difference between being unnecessarily jealous when you hang out with friends and being rightfully jealous when they cheat??#at this point idk what to say. i'm very entertained by my friends' dating journeys but that couldn't be me#all the gossip i provide for them is which people i flirted with for the ego and who i ghosted and who ghosted me#mel talks
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lecliss · 1 year ago
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OO has me in a fucking vice grip with the urge to lunge at Seph's throat!!!!!!! I can't fucking believe he convinced Kadaj to join him!!!!!! I'm gonna go fucking feral!!!! Leave my sonboy alone!!!!! He has no free will!!! He keeps being used for what Jenova wants cuz of the cells and he keeps being used by Seph as a remnant!!! Daj can never truly have something of his own accord cuz of the very meaning of his existence!!!!! He can never be an individual cuz of them, but without them he wouldn't exist!!!! LET HIM BE HIS OWN PERSON!!!!
And to top it off, Team Ninja dangles a Loz and Yazoo tease in my face after I just said I need Kadaj to have his real brothers back!!!! FUCK!!!! I FUCKING HATE FINAL FANTASY!!!!!!!
#i love kaien trying to help even tho this has nothing to do with him. thank you grandpa 🥺#kadaj and repliku would be a match made in heaven. i want them to talk and go on a murder spree for funsies together#im gonna kill seph so fucking hard. i hate it here!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#at least now i know why kadaj and seymour team up to be ducklings to weiss. tho im not caught up to know how/why they leave seph yet#im just. im gonna die man. im so happy OO added kadaj and gave him so much development and i love that the game takes characters seriously#but god. do they have to keep tormenting MY FUCKING SON!?!?!?!#LET HIM RETURN TO HIS NEW MOM AND DAD (zack and aerith)!!!! GIVE HIM HIS LITTLE BROTHERS BACK!!!! GIVE HIM FUCKING FREE WILL!!!! FUCK!!!!!#its such a good time to be so abnormal about a 2005 one off sequel movie villain. genuinely. it just hurts at the same time#i also like how everyone's fine with kadaj and is even trying to help him cuz despite being morally gray. at least hes against seph.#so hes a good kid in their books 🥺#brb gonna go speedrun the og 7 real quick so i can beat seph's ass in the name of my best boy#also when we get loz and yazoo i wonder if theyll be a joint unit like in brave exvius of if theyll be seperate but released back to back#like reno and rude 🤔#i was expecting sonon or nero next but i do think they wont come until after part 2. while i want genesis most then. i would actually rather#have the baby bro duo if it means they have a real chance of getting in. i didnt actually believe it would be possible. but no it looks real
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gremlingottoosilly · 1 month ago
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Imagine another soldiers GF is visiting him and Konig sees her and is like "My GF now" what is he gonna do? Challenge the 7 ft. Tall killing machine?
Visiting Paul wasn't the sanest thing you did - and not the proudest of your moments, too. Your relationships started to crack a while ago, not helped by the rumors his squad buddies are spreading whenever you're in the earshot or Facetiming him. You just wanted to give him a visit, maybe woo him over with some homemade goods, and maybe be a normal boyfriend and girlfriend again. Maybe. You didn't expect his colonel to give you such a scolding. "You know that poisoning the troops is a war crime, ja?" You're terrified. His colonel is fucking huge, has a creepy name - seriously, what did he do to be named King instead of Potato or a Shrimp - and has that weird boyishly rough voice that lools you into the sense of security, only for it to be broken the second he laughs, tearing into the dumb box filled with dumb cookies you made for Paul and some of his squadmates. You had friends at his station, you thought you could just get in without the bureaucracy bullshit - only closest family members are allowed here, and you are quite certain that your boyfriend won't wife you up anytime soon. "It's not poison, s...sir" "I look like a sir to you, Maus? Call me colonel" You want to answer that he looks like a fucking nightmare crawling out of your bad dreams, but you bite your tongue. Don't even resist as Konig gets his huge gloved hands into the box, slowly taking one of the cookies. You whimper as he snaps the thing in half - hours of hard work, you can already see them being trashed away all because Paul didn't respond to your calls and didn't pick them up immediately and because he didn't mention his colonel is going to be on the base and- Konig gets one of your cookies under his hood, the sounds of munching like music to your ears - an angel's horn, maybe, the ones that play during the apocalypse. You wait patiently to be prosecuted for your crimes - the ones you aren't quite sure you even committed, to be honest. "You'll do. Horangi will show you to my quarters." You think you're hearing things. Maybe, you somehow managed to hit your head on the way to the colonel's office, and now you're hallucinating the entire encounter? The colonel stands up - he is huge, god, too fucking tall to even be alive, you think - and drops a heavy hand on your shoulder, patting you almost awkwardly. You hate the way he looks at you right now - almost soft, almost gentle, his hand squeezes your skin in a way that is way more loving than your boyfriend ever did before, and you feel pathetic for leaning into the touch, if only for a second. You didn't know that Konig got his eye on you even before you went to the base. He knows a lot about his soldiers, and your sorry fuck of a boyfriend clearly didn't deserve a sweet little thing like you - for fucks's sake, you literally just brought homemade cookies to the military base; how much more of an angel you can be. He also knew that you're not quite satisfied with the relationships if he can judge by how much bitching Paul is letting out during his free time. Konig also knows that if he gets you to marry him as soon as possible, sooner he could put you in his house and make you bake him cookies every day of his retirement - that doesn't seem like such a bad opportunity now, not if he would have a pretty housewife attached to his hip. And if you don't really want to be with him, well... Nothing that a few weeks of extensive home training couldn't fix.
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aturinfortheworse · 2 years ago
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I read a fair number of recipes on the ten thousand interchangeable recipe blogs that exist, and often they say something like "This recipe is a family favourite!" or "This a crowd-pleaser" etc. and I roll my eyes a little bit every time because of course they are, it goes without saying! People like food! Nearly any special-occasion home-cooked meal is going to be popular.
But there is one recipe, one cake, that has recontextualised all those comments for me and now actually I think those bloggers might be wrong about what a family favourite is. It sure as hell isn't Interchangeable Chocolate Cake No. 7.
I'm telling you this because I need you to know the seriousness of the power I am going to bestow on you. And hey, maybe your friends and family have different preferences than mine do. Maybe you need to find another recipe to fill this role. But you must know that there's a recipe out there, and not even a particularly alluring one or a particularly difficult one, which people will bring up in unrelated conversations to you four years later.
If I so much as say the word cake, my family all turn to face me like a pack of hungry wolves. Even the ones that don't like food!! Health nuts and people who simply don't enjoy eating and people with no appetite and people I have no goddamn memory of ever having cooked for, all of them come up and say to me "Hey remember that cake-" I asked my brother and his girlfriend what foods they're looking forward to, when they return home after three years in Japan, and they say "You know that cake?"
It doesn't sound particularly appetizing. I only made it the first time because it was gluten free and I had a bunch of lemons. Please don't let the name inform your opinion here. This is a fairly fast and simple cake that requires no special equipment and people will literally never stop asking you for it.
It's not even my favourite cake! I'd rather have basque burnt cheesecake, which is harder and more expensive to make and consists almost entirely of fat and sugar but still manages to be a little savoury... But people want the weird corn one.
To be fair, this is the only cake that'll make me dip my fingers into boiling sugar without regret.
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pathologicalreid · 4 months ago
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Hello, love your writing, can i request a oneshot for spencer Reid x wife!reader with the plot of the movie taken where she goes on a business trip or something and she gets taken and the team have to work against the clock to get her back. Had this idea for so long and thought you would be perfect to write it. Perfectly fine if you dont but im craving this story.
leave a message after the beep | S.R.
When you go missing under suspicious circumstances on a business trip, the BAU goes to Texas - and ends up in the middle of something bigger than anticipated.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: kidnapping, blood, guns, reader almost kills someone, hospitals, the securities and exchange commission, typical cm violence, texas, takes place maybe circa season 7 word count: 4.03k a/n: okay anon so like yes i can write this but also i've never seen the movie taken so really i took your request and made it my own! i hope you like it either way!
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Tuesday, 2:17 p.m.
“Hey, Spence, it’s me. Shame I got your voicemail, but I just landed at Dallas Fort Worth and I’m waiting for my ride to take me to meet the regional officers. Not sure if you’re traveling, but uh, call me when you get this, I guess. Or when you can. Hopefully, this trip goes better than I think it’s going to… oh, I think my ride is here.”
Tuesday, 6:42 p.m.
“Hey babe, so, the first meeting went fine, they don’t seem very receptive, but people generally aren’t when I’m sent in to change their methods. Wish you’d pick up your phone. Anyway, I’m on my way to the hotel now, I’ll probably try you again before I go to bed. I know my updates are probably riveting.”
Tuesday, 8:09 p.m.
“Well, I’ve definitely stayed in nicer hotels than this one, but I guess I can’t complain about being put up for free. I’m probably just biased because the a/c unit is busted – oh, my room number is 316, I know you like to have it. I opened the windows to let air in but it’s so dry here that I’m not sure it’s helping any. I’ll shut them before I go to sleep, so don’t worry about that. Call me back, I miss you, don’t worry about waking me up. I think that’s all I’ve got, goodnight, I love you!”
There was a collective sigh in the roundtable room, five agents around the room all looked nervously at each other. No one wanted to be the first person to speak. No one wanted to be the first to propose a theory. “Where’s Spencer?” Emily asked, looking through the voicemail transcripts that were splayed out in front of her.
“In Hotch’s office, they’re talking,” Rossi said, eyeing the photo of you that was being projected up on the screen. Most of the time, Penelope just used driver’s license or passport photos in files, but for you, she had chosen a photo from the last BAU O’Keefe’s outing. Your skin was flushed and there was an odd shadow being cast on your face, but your smile was unmistakable.
The official files would have your driver’s license photo, but that picture was for the BAU. Seemingly unable to peel her eyes off of the screen, JJ asked the question that everyone was sitting on, “We’re on this case, right?”
It felt ridiculous, one of their own had gone missing in the middle of the night and they weren’t even sure if they had the jurisdiction to look into it. When no one answered, Morgan looked around the room, “The brass isn’t seriously going to try to tell us not to investigate.”
“No, they’re not,” Hotch said, suit jacket unbuttoned and fluttering behind him as he walked into the roundtable room with purpose. “We’ll debrief more on the plane, JJ and Garcia will stay here, the rest of us are headed to Dallas,” he instructed, nodding at everyone before turning around and walking out the door, the rest of the team following like ducks in a row.
On the jet, the traveling members of the team watched as Rossi held a cup of coffee out for Spencer to take, but the team's youngest member took a moment to even recognize that it was there, “Oh,” he mumbled, “thank you.” Blinking a haze from his eyes, he took the cup in his shaky hands.
A familiar concern flowed among Spencer’s teammates, they all watched as he twisted his wedding ring around his finger – a nervous habit that usually presented itself when he missed you. “Y/N’s boss is en route to Quantico to talk with JJ, the flight’s about three hours, we should get started,” Hotch was the one to speak up, herding the sheep in the correct direction while everything felt aimless.
With his legs tucked beneath himself, Spencer watched the team as they bounced back and forth in a discussion on what you were doing in Dallas and Penelope scoured through your recent communication.
“According to the voicemails and the hotel records, her room was on the third floor,” Emily spoke up, flipping through the file in front of her. “Do we have crime scene photos from the hotel room yet?”
On the video screen, Penelope shook her head, “CSI is still processing the scene, I have an inquiry in with them to send the photos as soon as they can.”
Checking his watch, Hotch looked over at Spencer, still sequestered on one side of the jet, “Make sure they keep the scene undisturbed for when we arrive. Dave and Morgan will meet with the sheriff at the hotel, and the rest of us will head to the precinct to set up.”
If Spencer wanted to be the one to investigate the crime scene, he didn’t protest his assignment, he just continued to spin that gold band on his finger. He didn’t notice the glances exchanged between the rest of his team; he could only think of you.
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With the involvement of the BAU, the team had been redirected to the Dallas Field Office. “There was a hole torn in the window screen, the crime scene techs think that’s how they got inside,” Morgan announced to the team, they were all gathering in the conference room.
“On the third floor?” JJ questioned over video chat, she and Penelope sat right next to each other on the screen.
Rossi nodded, “We must be looking at a team. At least two, likely three UnSub’s in order to pull something like this off. They cut the camera feed and broke into the hotel room where she was staying – this was premeditated.”
It wasn’t difficult to deduce that being taken from the third floor of a hotel meant that you had been a target, but the evidence of a break-in settled like a boulder on Spencer’s chest. Someone had intended to take you. Someone had intended on grabbing you from your hotel room in the middle of the night – and they had succeeded.
“Is there any chance she forgot to close the windows when she went to sleep last night?” Emily looked over at Spencer, dark brows raised quizzically as she leaned over the table, skimming through the voicemail transcripts again.
Clenching his jaw, Spencer shook his head, recalling your promise to close the windows before the end of the night. “No, she’d never forget. She knows I worry,” although, after this, you’d never be able to chide him for worrying too much ever again. Sharing a knowing look with the brunette before him, “So, she’s been missing since last night, not this morning.”
The initial assumption had been that you’d disappeared at some point early in the morning, maybe on your way to your first meeting of the day, no one was entirely sure, but this confirmed that you had been missing for at least eight hours more than the first estimate.
A knock on the door garnered the attention of the team, each of them turning to see a field agent, “Uh, Ezra Buchmann is here to speak with you, he said he got a call from your tech girl.”
Hotch nodded succinctly, “That’s the co-worker who reported the case. Morgan, go see if he needs anything. Dave, let’s go check out the office building that Y/N had been working at.”
“Do you think she might’ve been caught up in something at work?” Spencer asked, following his team members with his eyes as they left the conference room.
The unit chief didn’t provide a forward answer, “I’d like to start checking off some possibilities. It’s been fourteen hours with no firm leads.” It wasn’t as optimistic as anyone had hoped, but Hotch shared a look with Emily before leaving the room.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Spencer turned to the evidence board, looking at the pictures of your hotel room, the water splashed around the rim of the bathroom sink, your phone charging on the bedside table, your wedding ring resting on the counter, and if he separated himself from the missing posters, he could almost convince himself that they were just random pictures. Almost.
Frowning at the blown-up images of partial fingerprints and a random CCTV shot from across the street, he recalled your voicemails. “I wasn’t busy,” he confessed to Emily. “When she called me, I wasn’t busy. I was doing other things, but I wasn’t too busy to answer the phone. I assumed that I’d have the chance to talk to her today,” he said, slightly leaning over the oak table, resting his fingerprints on the varnished surface in an attempt to keep himself standing.
Pursing her lips, Emily took a member for responding, “That’s not an outrageous assumption to make,” she tried to reason with a miserable man. “You’d never think something like this would happen.”
“Until it does,” Spencer continued. “We see it happen to people all the time, we’ve made a life of it, but I never thought it would happen to me. To her,” he maundered. If he had a dollar for every time he had heard the same sentiment from victim’s families, he’d never have to work another day in his life. “I did call her back when I got home last night,” he added, though, he wasn’t entirely sure who he was trying to reassure.
In an effort to comfort him, Emily reached out and patted his arm, “We will find her, Spencer.”
Dead or alive? He wanted to retort, but he bit his tongue, holding it in.
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As a favor to him, in the hopes of providing him with some emotional respite, Emily had haggled with the field agent whose name was last on the chain of custody of your belongings. It wasn’t entirely proper for evidence to be released to family, but she offered to put her name on it in the interim.
She stayed with Spencer in the conference room, letting him keep your things nearby as she spoke with JJ and went through the information that had been acquired back at Quantico. The team now had your performance reviews at work and, according to JJ, your boss couldn’t say enough good things about you. While it was nice to hear, it didn’t bring them any closer to finding where you were.
Tracing the woodgrain of the table with his fingertips, Spencer eventually tuned the phone call out, instead wondering at what point he was obligated to call your parents. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice your phone was ringing in the evidence bag before him until Prentiss tapped him on the shoulder.
It was an unknown number, but that was a barrier easily blocked by Garcia with a quick search. The rest of the team watched as she blanched on the screen, “Uh, you might want to answer that.”
“Garcia, who is it?” Hotch asked, a hardened look on his face as he looked from the screen to the buzzing cellphone.
JJ frowned at Penelope’s monitor as if she couldn’t believe what she was reading, “It’s the SEC,” she responded.
Swiftly, Hotch answered the phone call, turning on speakerphone so the rest of the team could hear, “Hello.”
“Hello, may I speak with Mrs. Reid?” A male voice came through the receiver, everyone sharing the same wary look.
Focused on the phone call, Hotch shook his head, “This is Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, you can speak with me.” He said, elaborating on the situation and rendering the SEC investigator speechless.
Unable to listen to the conversation any longer, Spencer got up, minding his movements as he walked out of the conference room. He checked the map of the building that was posted on the wall before walking up the stairs, making his way up to the roof of the building.
The dry heat of Dallas was about as miserable as everyone made it out to be, but it was hard to ignore the way it reminded him of home. Maybe he could call his mom – speaking with her usually brought him some semblance of peace. Though, she might have a negative reaction to the situation he found himself in. On the hot rubber roofing, he kicked around piles of dirt before leaning against the ledge of the building, craning his head back and closing his eyes when he heard the rooftop door open.
“Look, I’m really not in the mood for any sort of discussion right now,” he complained, neglecting to spare a glance at whoever was disturbing his quiet – not exactly an Eden, but quiet.
He recognized Emily by the sound her boots made, even on the rubber that had been softened by the relentless sun, “I’d be more surprised if you were in the mood to talk.”
Impulsively, he rolled his eyes, “Did Hotch put you in charge of me?” He was glad his eyes were still shut, that way he couldn’t see the look on Emily’s face when he sniped at her.
“No,” she responded, gathering his attention as he brought his head down, squinting in the sunlight. “I thought you might want to know what just happened,” she nearly challenged, dark hair gleaming in the daylight.
Mentally kicking himself, he nodded for a moment, “You’re right, I just… I’m sorry.”
Taking a moment, Prentiss walked over, standing next to him, “I know.” She sighed, turning around and taking inventory of the surrounding buildings, “She was sent out here to look at some shady dealings of the company – insider trading, that kind of stuff. The main branch has an investigation open with the SEC, and they have been for the last few months. She was supposed to meet with that Ezra guy this morning to try and work something out. Hotch is talking to the CEO right now, he’s claiming he couldn’t tell JJ because it’s need-to-know,” Emily explained, focusing her eyes on the highway in the distance. “The SEC has an office in Fort Worth, they’re sending some people, and they faxed over all of the files.”
Setting his jaw, Spencer was the first to move to the stairs, the air conditioning providing an instant relief as he strode down the steps with Emily trailing close behind.
A field agent was standing in the middle of the office, stirring a cup of coffee, “Would someone really kidnap a woman over an SEC investigation?”
“We’ve seen much worse for much less,” Spencer mentioned in passing, swerving through the office of people until he made it back to the conference room. “Why would Y/N’s boss send her to investigate something that had already been brought to the SEC?” He posed the question to the rest of the team, taking one of the files that Morgan handed him and reading through the pages.
Rossi shrugged, nodding his head in the direction of the evidence board, “He wanted it handled quietly,” he posited. “Maybe he thought she could negotiate a solution and they could call off the securities investigation.”
Understanding where Spencer was going with his question, Hotch watched the board as if it was all coming together, “But, Y/N had no idea there was an open investigation. This was just another assignment to her.”
You had basically said as much in your voicemails, you went in, and you cleaned up fires across the country, and now you were caught in a blaze. “It was a setup,” Spencer concluded.
“And I know just who you need to talk to,” Garcia said over the phone, typing on her keyboard, “Check your phones.”
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Ezra’s assistant folded immediately under the threat of being charged with interfering with a federal investigation. She had no knowledge of what her boss was up to, but she did know where the BAU could find him.
On the edge of the city, your company held an old office building that was slated for demolition. With the information from the assistant and some actions of questionable legality from Garcia, the team was able to nail down Ezra’s location and, hopefully, yours.
Letting SWAT lead the way, Spencer, Emily, and Morgan all made their way up yet another flight of stairs, hoping to be able to find you on the third floor. The SWAT commander signaled with his fingers to direct everyone in their respective directions.
There was a clang from across the floor and everyone froze in place, “Fuck you!” Your voice rang out, reverberating through the mostly empty office space. The yelp that followed would have sent Spencer clambering in your direction if it weren’t for Morgan grabbing his arm in warning. “I didn’t know,” you spoke again, your tone less obstinate as the misery you felt crept in.
Drawing their weapons, the team clung to the wall as SWAT gave orders over comms until the team came into view, lifting their firearms.
In retaliation, Ezra pulled you up, keeping a deadly tight grip on your upper arm as he kept you compliant by pressing the barrel of his gun to your temple. “She told me you’d come,” he said, nearly seething with rage like a rabid animal.
It seemed like a ridiculous moment to feel relief, but the fact that you knew the BAU would come for you ever so slightly lightened the weight on Spencer’s shoulders. However, whatever relief he felt was quickly banished from existence when his eyes met yours, you were covered in blood. It leaked in a steady stream from your nose and down your sleep shirt, he hoped that was the extent of the damage that had been done but based on the evidence of a struggle in the hotel room, he doubted it.
“Y/N, don’t look at him, look at us, look at Spencer,” Emily reasoned, noting the way you looked over at your captor, eyeing the gun in his hand.
You didn’t look scared, not to Spencer, though Emily had reasonably assumed that you would be in this situation. “Y/N, don’t,” Spencer said in a warning.
But his warning came too late, you had already swung your bound hands up, grabbing the weapon from Ezra as you kicked his legs out from under him. If Spencer hadn’t been so worried, he would’ve been impressed, but now he found himself in an entirely different situation.
“The safety’s still on,” you chastised as your now shaking hands undid the small latch, settling your pointer finger on the trigger as you stared him down.
SWAT seemed entirely dumbfounded, not sure how to go about the admittedly unique situation, so, it fell upon your husband to talk you down. Slowly, he holstered his weapon and stepped toward you, “Baby, put the gun down.”
You sucked in a harsh breath, “He set me up, Spence”
“I know, darling, I know,” Spencer said breathlessly, holding his hands out to stop any and all movement in the warehouse. “This isn’t the answer though, okay? You know this isn’t the answer.”
Your hands didn’t stop shaking, still bound together by the flex cuffs on your wrists as you narrowed your eyes at Ezra. “He set me up,” your voice broke at the sheer memory of the betrayal.
Distantly, you heard Derek tell people to lower their weapons, convincing the field agents that you weren’t a threat. “This isn’t you,” Spencer insisted.
Blinking as tears fell from your eyes, you gripped the handle of the gun, leaving your pointer finger hovering precariously on the trigger. This isn’t you. This isn’t the answer. This isn’t you. This isn’t the answer.
Swallowing thickly, you looked down at Ezra, who was taunting you, trying to get you to pull the trigger. You fought against yourself, trying not to stare at Spencer because you knew as soon as you met his brown eyes, the choice would be made for you.
“Pull the damn trigger,” Ezra jeered, baring his teeth at you. This was it; this was the end. The FBI had the whole building surrounded. Even if he tried to run, the BAU would follow him, they’d chase him down, and they’d kill him themselves if it came down to it.
Slowly, you moved your thumb, re-engaging the safety before you lowered your arms, handing the gun off to Spencer. As he grabbed the barrel of the gun with one hand, he pulled you in with the other, passing the gun off to Emily so he could hug you tightly.
He pulled away for a moment, retrieving a pocketknife and using it to cut the flex cuffs from your wrists, letting the stiff plastic fall to the ground, and catching you when you practically threw your arms around him.
Your legs gave out from under you, and Spencer wondered how long you had been in this sweltering building without water, likely having used the last of your strength to stop Ezra. “Shh,” he hushed gently, “Let’s sit down,” he spoke to only you as he guided you to the ground.
Closer to you now, he saw more of the damage that had been done, the glazed look over your eyes, your chapped lips, and a bruise on the side of your head. “I knew you’d come,” you murmured dazedly, swaying ever so slightly, “I told him you’d come.”
“I know, I know,” Spencer reassured you, listening to the buzzing of people, hopefully EMTs, around you.
A hiccupping sob almost broke his heart, but he just kept his hold on you, keeping you upright and wishing your nosebleed would clot. “I almost killed him,” you mumbled.
But you didn’t, he wanted to respond. Part of him felt like it would’ve been fine if you had. You’d have gotten away with it, even, but he knew firsthand what it felt like to take another life. He wanted to believe that he had played a part in you turning the safety back on, but even he wasn’t sure.
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“How are you feeling? Better?” Spencer asked, sitting on the edge of your hospital bed and taking your hand in his.
He squeezed your hand gently, allowing you to admire the way your wedding ring looked now that it had been returned to its rightful home. “Much,” you assured him, keeping your head resting on the mountain of pillows behind you. You had been cleaned up, stitches on your forehead, and a bandaged cut on your thigh, but the main concern was your dehydration. An IV delivered fluids to you while you sipped on a cup of water, waiting for your stomach to settle enough for you to eat something.
Spencer raised his eyebrows, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “Good enough to try something for dinner?”
You nodded apprehensively, “Something light?”
The smile that sprouted on his face was enough to convince you to eat. He offered to go talk to your nurse, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before he left the room, leaving the door open so you could see him in the hallway.
A small chime got your attention, looking around for the source of the noise, you found yourself digging through Spencer’s bag, retrieving your cell phone from the leather satchel.
There was a scratch over the screen, but it still worked just fine following your skirmish in the hotel, you opened the phone to find that you had a voicemail. You tapped the message before bringing the phone to your ear.
Tuesday, 10:23 p.m.
“Hey love, I’m just leaving the office now. I’m sure they’ll be more receptive to you as you talk more, you can be very convincing. The weather is very dry in Texas, make sure you keep hydrated, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t answer any of your calls, we’ve been trying to prepare all of this paperwork for Strauss and time just got away from us. I miss you, maybe when you get home, we could talk about taking a trip. We could go see my mom. It’s been a while. Hm… I have to admit, I’m a little bummed you didn’t answer the phone, but I’m glad you’re getting sleep. I love you so much, sleep well.”
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luvrgreyy · 27 days ago
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WHAT GOOD IS SORRY?
ex husband!leon x f!reader
word count: 3.3k summary: why does one wound those they love so deeply? masterlist | taglist | ko-fi
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18+ MDNI. mentions of divorce, cheating/infidelity, awkward leon stuff, guilt, yearning, leon and reader have a child together — and i named her denise for whatever reason, getting stood up by a date, drunk texting, kissing, oral(r!receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, bittersweet ending(?) i guess.
a/n: old wip,, this was supposed to be super gut wrenching and angsty but for some reason, my brain didn’t want to cooperate and decided that this would be the ending. also, i’ve been contemplating whether to address this or not and even tho its not a big issue, PLEASE interact with my posts. it’s the only way i’m able to know that you guys actually like the stuff i write, and ever since i’ve started writing on here 7 months ago, i’ve been noticing a decrease in interactions. im honestly losing motivation to write because i truly don’t know if people actually read my shit and like it. anyway, enjoy my mediocre writing ^___^
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leon regrets everything he’s done up to this point. running into ada on a mission, going to the bar with her afterwards, and the kiss. the stupid kiss that eventually led up to this.
the divorce.
it all felt wrong, so wrong. yet here he was, driving his car to your doorstep, his stomach in knots despite having done this several times before.
for the sake of your daughter, the two of you had decided that shared custody would be the best option.
he stands at the door, hesitating before knocking, his knuckles hovering anxiously. clearing his throat, he gently raps his knuckles against the door, hoping for an answer. he's already second-guessing himself, wondering if he should have texted or called first.
your door eventually opens, and he's met with a familiar face. you.
you greet him with a civil smile, pressing a kiss into your daughter’s hair before ushering her inside.
he fidgets, adjusting the brim of his leather jacket nervously as he takes in the sight of you.
you reach to shut the door, catching a glimpse of him awkwardly hovering over you porch.
“you okay?”
he tries to find his voice. "yeah, i just, uh... i was just thinking..”
he looks down at his feet, kicking the ground with the side of his scuffed boot, as if trying to buy some time or maybe just willing the floor to swallow him up. when he speaks, his voice is low and sheepish. “when i was— last night, i thought… uh, do- do you remember when.. shit. are you free this weekend?”
”what?” you muse at his question. “leon, i really don’t wanna have this conversation with you again,”
he winces at the rebuff, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets as a defensive measure.
leon’s adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows hard, his ears burning at your words. he looks anywhere but at you, his eyes darting over the porch railing, the foliage, the sky — anywhere but your eyes. oh, those eyes he adored so much.
"no, wait, hear me out,”
"listen..." he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever fallout this might bring, knowing he's already on shaky ground. “i just wanna talk.. to you.”
he shifts his weight, glancing up at the roof of the house as if the heavens themselves could offer a solution. when he does meet your gaze again, his eyes are pleading, his jaw clenched with a mix of anxiety and something akin to desperation.
“i’m sorry, leon. i’m busy,”
he scoffs and his face scrunches up, a pained grimace contorting his features as he cuts you off. “c’mon, please?” he's standing too close now, invading the personal space he once knew so well. “i.. i know it isn’t what we do anymore but—“
“no, seriously. i literally can’t. i have something up.”
“oh.” he deflates slightly at your dismissal, shoulders slumping in defeat. a soft, regretful sigh escapes his parted lips, and his eyes drop, gaze wandering aimlessly. "can- can you can you cancel? is it really important? what about on sunday-? i’m sure we can..“
“leon.” it's not a question this time, you stare at him with the tiniest hint of pity. “i have a date.”
ouch. he freezes, his chest constricting as if he's been punched. a date? the words echo in his mind, each syllable like a dagger to his pride, his ego, his everything. a muscle in his jaw twitches, his hands clenching and unclenching in his pockets. leon swallows hard, his throat suddenly parched.
"oh," he repeats, the sound barely above a whisper. he takes a shaky breath, trying to calm the storm brewing inside him.
he rubs a hand over the back of his neck, jaw working in agitation as he grapples with the blow of your words. a snarky retort rises in his throat, a cutting remark to deflect the sting, but it withers on his tongue, a futile attempt at salvaging pride he knows is misplaced.
leon swallows hard, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally finds his voice, laced with a wry bitterness. “yeah, no worries.. guess that's that," a bitter, hollow chuckle escapes him as he shifts his weight. his tone is flippant, trying to mask the sting of rejection, but the defeat is palpable as he turns to leave. he starts down the porch steps, his boots thudding against the wooden slats.
you finally close the door on him, standing by the door, hand on the knob, unease prickling along you skin like a thousand tiny needles, each one stinging with the weight of guilt. you sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she tries to process her feelings. guilt, regret, a twinge longing — it's all so confusing, so messy.
the weight of his pleading eyes, the desperation in his tone — he had no right acting like a dejected puppy after he cheated on you.
you shake your head, face between your hands. he made his choices, just as you had, and now it was time to move on. you squared your shoulders, took a deep breath, and stepped away from the door, determined to let go of the ghost of what was and focus on the life you were building. for you, and your daughter.
but it’s not really easy.
not when you’re sitting alone at a restaurant, waiting for a date that never bothered to show.
your phone buzzes and you hold your breath. hoping for some sort of confirmation, but it's quickly snuffed out.
‘hey, sorry i couldn’t make it. something important came up’ the simple text reads. the same stupid excuse. every. single. time. your heart sinks, a dull ache forming in the pit of your stomach.
a bitter, derisive chuckle escapes your lips. serves you right. you knew he was trouble from the start. yet, your heart aches, a dull throb of pain and disappointment. you feel so foolish, sitting there, waiting for someone who never shows. though, it isn't really new.
now you lay in your bed, having already kicked off your heels and changed out of the uncomfortably tight dress you wore.
you pull the blankets up to your chin, suddenly feeling cold. you toss and turn, brooding and wallowing in misery, and it seemed like you’ve been doing it for hours till you’re startled out of your fitful doze by the buzz of your phone.
it's a text from leon, of course it is. it’s another one of his ‘where are u? i miss u’ ‘can’t stop thinking about you. please let me c u’ meltdowns.
he's drunk again, you can tell by the sloppy caps and the desperate pleas. every time he has a rough night, he always thinks coming over will magically fix everything. and you always refuse, knowing he’s only drunk and alone. but tonight, you feel particularly lonely.
your thumb hovers over the keyboard, and before you know it, you're typing. ‘come over.’ you hesitate, then send the message.
by then, he’s already halfway out the door, stumbling out and nearly falling as he trips over his own feet in his haste. he takes the stairs two at a time, a goofy, shit-eating grin plastered on his face. when he reaches your door, he pounds on it with a fist. his breath comes out in short puffs as he waits, anticipation making his heart race.
click.
the door creaks open a fraction and his eyes lock onto you, looking all soft and domestic in a robe. leon's breath catches in his throat as his eyes drink you in.
he tumbles in, arms outstretched as if he's about to catch something. he's immediately in your space, arms around you in a tight, needy embrace. his face buries itself in the crook of your neck, breathless with relief and something else, something suspiciously like love.
“leon—“ he smashes his mouth against yours, tongue pushing past your lips, the taste of beer and regret in his breath. his hands roam, sliding up your back, gripping your hair, fingers splayed wide as if to assure himself you're real. a low, desperate sound escapes him, half-groan, half-moan as his body presses against yours. he's desperate, sloppy, but undeniably passionate. when he finally breaks for air, he rests his forehead against yours, eyes glassy with drink and longing.
“missed you s’ much, baby,” he presses a kiss to your neck, tongue tracing the pulse point with a reverence that borders worship.
“let me make it up to you, please,” he looks up at you with those big, puppy-dog eyes, an expression so pathetic it’s comical. yet, the desperation behind them makes it anything but.
his hands skim down your sides to your hips, fingers digging in as if to keep you anchored to him. his face buried in the crook of your neck as his hands knead the meat of your ass, claws digging in through the fabric of your robe. his breath hitches as he nuzzles into you, inhaling deeply as if committing you to memory.
he trails a string of open-mouthed kisses down your neck, pausing to nibble on your collarbone before continuing his journey south. his hands never stop moving, roaming over your body with an insatiable hunger.
you let out a soft whimper, arching into his touch. "bedroom," you breathe out, and he happily obliges.
once inside, he kicks the door shut behind him and spins you around, backing you up against the bed. he begins to undo your robe with shaking fingers, your heavy breathing and the rustling of silk the only sounds in the charged silence between you. when the robe falls open, he pushes it off your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet.
the thin, sheer fabric of your nightgown offers little resistance as he practically rips it off you. a shaky breath escapes his parted lips as he reaches for you again, fingers grazing your skin as if he's not quite trusting his own touch.
he guides you to the bed, pushing you to sit on the edge. he immediately drops to his knees before you, face between your legs.
“these ‘re pretty,” he slurs out, before he fucking tears your underwear off.
“leon!”
he chuckles at your reaction, a low, rumbling sound in the back of his throat. “sorry,” he murmurs against your inner thigh, his hot breath causing goosebumps to rise in its wake. “gonna buy you new ones,”
his stubble scrapes against your sensitive skin as he slowly trails open-mouthed kisses up your thigh, savoring every inch of you that you’re willing to give him.
he buries his face between your legs, licking and sucking with a single-minded devotion that makes your toes curl and eyes roll back in your head. his scruffy cheeks hollow as he sucks a hickey into the soft flesh of your inner thigh.
god, it’s been so long. the feelings practically foreign.
his tongue begins to lash at your slit, long and flat, with a dexterity that belies his level of inebriation.
“you still mine?” he huffs. “‘course you are, ‘m the only one that can get ya this wet,”
slurp, smack, suck, repeat.
his tongue is relentless, probing your entrance, swirling around your clit with increasing fervor. he's sloppy, uncoordinated, but it only serves to heighten the intensity of it all. every time he pulls back, you can hear his heavy breathing, feel the vibrations of his moans against your most intimate flesh. your fingers thread into his hair, tugging him closer as your back arches off the bed. a keening whimper escapes you, the sound muffled by your clenched teeth as you struggle to maintain some semblance of control.
“fuck, leon—” your words trail off into incoherent mumbles as he drives you closer to the edge, tongue darting in and out with a pace that’ll make a grown woman go crazy. “d-denise, were gonna wake her up,”
a low growl rumbles in his chest as he responds to your whine. there's a hint of accusation in his gaze, but it quickly morphs into a look of raw, desperate need. “don’t matter,” he's relentless, persistent, refusing to back down even as you tremble and writhe beneath him.
he grunts, his attention snapping back to you, blue eyes squinting as he looks up from between your thighs. his tongue is a damn metronome, lapping and smacking with a relentless rhythm that has you chasing the edge of oblivion.
it's like every drunken fantasy he's ever had is being poured out onto you. messy, uncoordinated, desperate. and you’re eating it up. “gonna make you forget all about that stupid date," he mutters through slurred words. "’m the only man who can make you feel this good,"
he's not wrong. the way he's attacking you with his tongue, it's like he's trying to prove a fucking point.
"leon, please," you gasp out, and he takes it as an invitation to continue. your entire body is wound up tight, a taut string ready to snap. he slips a finger in, then two, curling them just right so that they’re pressing against that spongy spot that has you seeing stars.
your legs wrap around his head, fingers threading into his hair as you pull him in as close as humanly possible. his name is a chant on your lips, a prayer to the gods of pleasure. "leon, leon, leon,". denise could come in right now and catch you like this — legs splayed, back arched, eyes squeezed shut in bliss. he's that good. or maybe that bad. you dont know. and you don’t care to find out.
"yeah, just like that," he praises, voice a low, gravelly growl. "love my fingers in this greedy little cunt, don't you?"
your thighs clench around his head, heels digging into his back as you ride out the pleasure. "gonna cum, leon, please—“ yours words trail off into a wail, a keen of pure, unadulterated euphoria.
your back arches, toes curl, and your fingers dig into his hair, holding him to you as the wave crashes over you. he tugs you down to the edge of the bed, practically burying his face in your groin. he laps at your slit, in and out, in and out, until the last bit of resistance melts away.
he lifts his face from between your legs, eyes hazy and unfocused as he fumbles to unbuckle his pants. once he has it off, he's back, pushing your legs apart as he kneels between them. the thick of his length throbs against your lower belly, and you can feel his racing heartbeat through every inch of him that's in contact with you.
he notches the head of his cock at your entrance, pressing in just enough to make you feel the pressure, gathering your juices before giving a long, slow stroke up and down, coating himself in you. he's throbbing, pulsing with need, and you can practically taste the desperation in your mouth.
he presses in, just the tip at first, then a bit more. slow, shallow strokes, in and out. his hips rock against yours, the motion slow and languid. one of his hands cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your closed eyelids to check if he was dreaming. the other hand palms the small of your back, fingers digging in as if to anchor himself. your legs wrap around his waist, ankles locking behind his back as he slowly sinks into you.
he's quiet for a moment, just holding you, his heart racing in his chest as if he's trying to communicate something without using words. his hips move, the action slow and lazy, as if he's trying to spoon you into submission.
he pulls out, just to the tip, before pushing back in. the motion is slow, sensual, a deliberate teasing that has you whining and writhing beneath him.
sweat beads on his brow, tracing down the lines of his face, but he doesn't slow. if anything, he's driven by a desperate need to make up for lost time, to prove himself worthy of you. your back arches, hands scrabbling for purchase on the sheets as he pistons in and out, the force of his thrusts rocking your entire body. he's not gentle, not soft, but rough and demanding, just like he always used to be when he was trying to stake his claim.
he nips at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh before he sooths it with his tongue. “fuck, feels so good,” he gasps out, his words punctuated by the slap of skin against skin. “can't believe i ever let you go.”
"leon," you whimper, the name a plea, a prayer. his lips find yours in a sloppy, frantic kiss. he's drinking you in, devouring your mouth, your moans, your gasps, trying to consume every ounce of you.
he's sweating, hair a mess, face scrunched up in concentration, but those blue eyes remain locked on yours.
you're lost in the sensation, every nerve ending on high alert, screaming for friction, for relief, for release. "leon, leon, gonna cum," you pant, your voice raw, your throat dry. "please, i—" but your pleas are swallowed by his next thrust, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls.
he leans forward, his forehead pressing against yours, noses nearly touching. his hot breath mingles with yours, the scent of his beer-soaked breath and the musk of his arousal mingling together in the most intoxicating way. "love you," he suddenly whispers, the words a quiet, a desperate confession that hangs in the air between you.
“love you, love you, fuck—“
the way your walls squeeze him when you cum drags his own orgasm from him. for a long moment, he stays frozen, buried to the hilt, his chest heaving against yours as he tries to catch his breath.
the heat of your body seeps into his skin, chasing away the chill of the night air. he collapses against you, a boneless heap of satisfied male. his cock throbs, pulses, and drips onto the bed between your legs as he tries to catch his breath. the room is silent, save for your joint heavy breathing, and the occasional groan as his softening length slips out of you. eventually, he rolls off, lying on his back beside you, one big hand coming to rest on your stomach, thumb stroking in a slow, idle pattern. his eyes are hazy, unfocused, but they find yours and hold. a small, sheepish smile tugs at his lips.
"sorry," he slurs out, the word garbled and slightly off-kilter. "i shoulda been better, should’ve tried harder, i... i‘m gonna make things right, i swear,"
he peppers your neck with soft kisses, his stubble rasping against your tender flesh. he's warm, solid, and comforting. gentle and tender, a stark contrast to the desperation that drove him mere moments ago.
he's not reaching for grand gestures or flowery declarations. he's asking for something simple, intimate, and achingly human. a chance to hold you, to sleep beside you, to maybe, begin to rebuild something from the rubble of what once was.
and for a moment, you let yourself believe that he’ll be different this time. that he's not just trying to relive past glories, but genuinely wants to make amends, to start anew.
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tags: @crowleyco @withonly-sweetheart @fanilkychae
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soarrenbluejay · 8 months ago
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Supervillains for a community. (Well, except those jerks over in Gotham, insular lot, but they’re they’re one problem) Of course they do- supervillains are a group defined by strong opinions and a willingness to see them through, often with a healthy dash of societal failures and trauma as a catalyst.
The fentons, while not active even on the online message boards, are well known and explosive when they do show up, full of fascinating insights and hours long rants on mad science on hair pin turns courtesy of that ADHD attention span. Bit of the cryptids you feel honored to bump into kind of deal. Besides, like a good quarter of the community as it aged, they’d settled down and had kids (not necessarily in that order) and taken it very seriously! Out in the middle of nowhere, where even the most fearsome government outpost members, the local branch of the IRS, quake before them in fear. Out of the way.
Reveal gone okay-ish, Danny moves to Gotham still to get some air bc now things are Akward and he landed that engineering scholarship which is loads better than any other college would give him with his track record. So- the mysterious Fenton children are finally crawling out of hiding! Everyone is psyched! And roll in to Gotham en masse to witness the fireworks!
Except Danny is Determined To Be Normal. He’s had enough of the throwing himself into harms way shit for a lifetime- he wants to be free to peacefully built Rube Goldberg machines and unintentional increasingly complex bombs to his hearts content. JAZZ, on the other hand- the coveted token Normal One, has finally snapped! She’s watched her baby brother she practically raised throw himself into danger over and over and could do nothing, and now that she’s exposed to this whole network of superheroes outside of small town Amnity, some of those uglier emotions are coming out. And boy is she pissed! And can’t afford to show it much while filing the paperwork to have Arkham legally razed to the ground!
See I love this idea of like, niches in superhero society. A villain the heroes know they can plop their kiddo down with for an exciting afternoon brawl while they take care of a particularly grisly case and come back to a few hours later ranting about some new life lesson and a new move they really want to try. A villain who has a functioning moral compass despite their somewhat batshit long term goal and you can contact to fuck with another villains’s plan so they can laugh at them and you can have an easy afternoon. One who pries up hostile architecture and fills in pot holes, idk man. Get creative here, there’s such potential!
So Jazz becomes a Training villain- someone the heroes know their sidekicks will walk away from in a fight 100% of the time, usually with some new lesson to ponder and only a couple of bruises. Sometimes even snacks!
She also absolutely ambushes mentors to check that they’re worth the kiddo, which they appreciate once they get over being jumped in a dark alley by a 7 foot Amazon trained force of nature. They are not used to being on that side of the jumping, it’s a little unnerving.
(Yes, she low key adopts Shazam upon checking in with him on cursory ‘is the main hero of this city and asshole’ checkin. Yes, the super clones get yoinked out from under Superman’s negligent thumb to go have a blast with Ellie. What about it?)
This however only encourages more assorted weirdos to crawl out of the woodwork. It’s not often one of their own forfeits their potential spot for the running of the coveted Most Normal I Swear prize, but when they do it’s bound to be good! But jazz is off hounding various heroes and punching the faces in of pedophiles and shit whenever there’s no cape within easy reach, and so is a mite bit harder to contact than Danny, who has innocently gotten an apprenticeship under a clockworker for access to their workshop and is gleefully going about doing nerdy shit with great abandon.
Plus this is Gotham. No one gives a shit if someone in the Mad Alchemist uniform and still smoking from their latest experiment pokes their head in a window to bother the local shrimp teen- none of the usual social rules apply, everyone’s crazy here! So everyone drops any and all attempts at masking and just acts their genuine unhinged selves, much to the alarm of the Bats and frustration of Danny.
Bc he cannot get these mfers to go. Away. Even liberal use of the creep stick has little effect when the interloper is calibrated for an opponent with super speed or laser vision or whatever, and he’s trying to maintain his guise as a Normal College Student Do No Investigate.
So he calls in the big guns. He’s not super active in the supervillain kids group chat ever since things in amnity calmed the fuck down post becoming King and then immediately using a loophole that says he will not take the throne until he is grown, as defined by finishing learning his trade a la the medieval standards Pariah set up. So he can just take his sweet ass time with his graduate degree and out of inter dimensional bull shit that much longer! Point is, he hasn’t taken the chance to rant over there in a while, so his Crazy friends are getting a lil worried.
The change to come over and shout at their batshit crazy but (mostly) well meaning parent AND see Danny? Score!
The bats, however, are getting awfully suspicious about this one kid that villains from all over the country are flocking to, especially young and upcoming ones as of recently! And he’s acting his engineering course- all the worst rogues are known to have flown through their PhD studies prior to Cracking. They seem to have a real problem on their hands with this Fenton guy.
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chlorinecake · 2 months ago
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Rabbit Hole | S.JY
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▹ PAIRING: ex fling ! classmate ! jake x f. reader
▹ GENRE: smut, scandalous, college au
▹ SYNOPSIS: In an attempt to escape your past life by running off to a new university, you end up encountering a former lover—one that you never thought you’d see again, and one that you’d soon realize was bad news all along…
▹ WARNINGS: KINKTOBER SPECIAL, foul language, humiliation kink, kinda dubcon because I need therapy, mentions of anal play, ft. other idols, mild bullying, switch!jake x switch!reader, lots of dialogue, degrading kink, impact play, light bondage, oral sex (m. r), unprotected sex (not for you), hair pulling
▹ WORD COUNT: 5.9k — DAY 7
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Monday
Today, your current university was hosting its annual day of orientation for newcomers and recently transferred students.
You found yourself here after being promptly expelled from your previous university, a victim of being framed after someone planted hard drugs in your gym bag—an incident that still leaves you unsure regarding who set you up in the first place…
Fortunately, however, the transition to this new college was seemingly smooth, as many of your closest friends were also attending this institution, speaking in your honor and defense to the enrollment officials countless times.
And so, as a freshly admitted student at a prestigious college located more than 100 miles from your former campus, you were eager to leave your old life and watch it burn behind you.
Though, as your cousin would often quote from one of those shitty Max Payne games he played all the time, You can't run from your past. You will end up running in circles until you fall back down into the same hole you were trying to escape from, only the hole's grown deeper.
Orientation had just ended about forty minutes ago, and like several other students, you decided to treat yourself to a nice coffee at the campus café.
However, you never anticipated running into someone you met along that gruesome 100-mile journey—someone with whom you shared a fleeting romance that you never thought you’d see again.
A fling, you might add, that you met during one of the darkest times of your life.
It was a reckless and foolish decision on your part, honestly… after all, being drunk and horny simultaneously was a combination that rarely ended well—
“I offered to pay you for sex and you said you’d do it for free!” The man shouted back at you with his frustrated brown eyes flickering behind his glasses.
And by now, everyone in the cafeteria was staring at you two—
“No the fuck I didn’t, I don’t even recognize your lying little face!” You clapped back, standing up from your table now as you angrily started shoving all your belongings back into your backpack.
A couple of pencils awkwardly clattered to the floor, but you didn’t bother to retrieve them. They were from Amazon and made your notes from orientation look terrible anyways… cheap fucking ink—
“You were a kinky bitch, too… wanted me to call you mommy while I fingered your asshole in doggystyle and everything.”
“Oh, your pervy little imagination is really running wild today, isn’t it?”
“You keep saying calling me ‘little’ when you could rarely even take me without being prepped!”
“I’m calling you ‘little’ because I don’t even know your fucking name for crying out loud!”
“It’s Jake, and you know that already, so quit playing dumb… you also told me your name when we hooked up in August, but it was probably a fake one since you thought I’d be stupid enough to not remember your face…”
Zipping your last backpack compartment, you sighed at his words, “I’m sorry to hear you’ve mistaken me with someone else, Mr. Jake, but you have to stop with these false claims… I’m not the girl you slept with…”
“Seriously?” he scoffed, shaking his head at you in disappointment as his gaze roamed over your entire frame… “You’re even wearing the same bra…”
His voice trailed off, and you stared at him with wide eyes as if he had just plunged a rusty knife into your miserable gut.
He was right. He was honest… and there was no escaping him now that he had figured you all out.
“I’ll see you in class this week,“ he sighed sullenly before walking off, looking back at you once before fully exiting the shop.
You made a mental note to never let him humiliate you again… even if you couldn’t physically prevent it, you planned to avoid it at all costs…
Tuesday
“He said all of that in public?” Your friend Ningning asked.
“Yes, and in the middle of me ordering my coffee, too…”
“He’s so disrespectful,” Minji added.
“Despicable… he was even shouting it all at the top of his fucking lungs…”
“No one kicked his crazy ass out?”
“No… and I guess that’s a good thing because we both looked fucking insane in that moment…”
“You still haven’t told us why he said all of that to you though,” Juria went on.
“I figured it was probably posted all over the internet by now…”
And you retelling them would only make you relive the incident all over again…
“Well let’s hope not, because a video like that could really ruin your academic standing… even his…”
“I seriously can’t risk that happening again, you guys… there’d be enough proof for them to accuse me this time, too… probably speculating that I was higher than a cloud in that café…”
“Noooo, let’s not even think like that, okay baby?” Juria soothed you with a comforting hand to your back.
“She’s right, everything’s gonna be alright… this’ll just blow over like every other video online,” Minji added with a smile.
“Oh my God…” your friend Ningning exclaimed while looking at her phone.
“What? What is it?”
“You said his name is Jake, right? I just found his Instagram, and his bio has our uni’s initials in it.”
“Yea, I forgot to tell you that part, too… I’ll apparently be seeing him again in English class on Thursday… and every week after that…”
“You need to look into getting transferred to a course with a different professor ASAP,” Minji suggested.
“She can’t. Deadlines already closed for class registration,” Juria added with a pout that mirrored yours.
Though at this point, Ningning was the only one smiling.
“What now, Ning?”
“I mean… y’all are just gonna have to hear me out on this one, but why’s he highkey hella attractive?”
“Give me that,” Minji said while snatching the phone from her, only for her mouth to create an O shape at one of his pictures.
“Relax Ji, you can’t slurp his soul through the screen,” you joked, which only egged them in even further.
“You should give him a second chanceeee,” Minji continued.
“After you just agreed that he’s a disrespectful little cunt?” Juria asked sarcastically.
“Look, I’m just tired of us being the single and hot friend group. It’s not a good match.”
“Mhm… we need a beau to chauffeur us around… buy us designer bags and take us to dinner…” Ningning added.
“Yessss. I’m tired of hookup culture, I need somebody reliable… you should ask him if he has any other hot friends!”
“Ooo, or a brother!”
“You guys are insane,” you chuckle, sitting back in your chair now as you know you only have a few more minutes before class starts.
You didn’t wanna tell your friends what really happened because you didn’t want them to judge you. And although you had a good feeling they wouldn’t, you were still too ashamed to confess… to admit that you had lied to the poor guy, and needlessly to as he wasn’t even trying to get anything from you.
He probably only stopped by to say “Hi” to a familiar face, but you panicked when the truth started to come out…
Wednesday
You were so close to calling in sick and just skipping class for the whole day, simply to avoid bumping into Jake.
But you knew that was a cowardly idea that would only negatively affect your attendance in the long run.
So, after some careful consideration, you came up with your own solution; you planned to wear the most provocative outfit you could find, just to get revenge by teasing him all day.
You wanted him to experience the embarrassment he had put you through when he exposed you in the café… you craved the feeling of being in control of him again.
Though, you knew it wouldn’t be easy because part of you still had a soft spot for him…
He was so caring on all those nights, prioritizing your pleasure while still achieving his own… and then right after, he would ask you about your life, to which you foolishly responded with complete honesty every single time…
You told him about what happened at your old school, about how you were transferring to a new institution, and even details about your family life…
So, when you unexpectedly ran into him on campus that Tuesday, it wasn’t entirely shocking… he had even followed you on Instagram that same day, tagging you and other students under a post entailing his excitement about “finally starting his academic journey on the right track.”
Jake was clearly keeping tabs on you, and you couldn’t fathom what he could possibly want, but you knew it had to be something, and you weren’t gonna sulk over his nice guy act any longer.
Sure, you recall him mentioning his plans to pursue personal projects, but those ambitions have to include you in some way, otherwise, why the fuck would he even be here?
The past version of you would allow such uncertainties to intimidate her, but the new you was ready to stand firm. You had to; it was the only way to change the dynamics of your relationship with him.
Thursday
Straightaway upon reaching the classroom after running up and down the halls for what felt like a second lifetime, you finally made it in.
It didn’t take long for you to spot Jake either, as he was sitting in one of the closest seats he could probably grab.
Nerd, you thought to yourself, making your way towards him with your lace-up Mary Jane heels clicking behind you.
The desks were two-seaters in this class, so you’re lucky enough to have snatched a spot with Jake before some other whore did—
“So you’re not disgusted by my lying little face anymore?” He asked almost immediately after you got settled in the chair, slowly meeting your eyes as if to shame you. Intimidate you.
“Oh I definitely still am,” you corrected, crossing your legs beneath the desk, “I’m simply just sitting next to you…”
“Right… and are you still going by that fake name these days?… What was it again… Raychel with a Y?”
“My real name is ____, alright? Not like you didn’t know that already after stalking me down online—”
He let out a breath through his nose, “I didn’t stalk you, ____—”
“Don’t call me that,” you interrupted, making him look down at his desk for a moment before snickering to himself at your tone.
Your adorably stern voice…
He always found it cute whenever you tried acting like the one who held dominance out of the two of you—
“What shall I call you then?” He asked while smirking, and you resented the way it made your insides flutter.
“Pretty,” you said plainly, and he quirks a brow at you.
“P-pretty?”
“What, do you disagree with that?”
“No,” he clarified, eyes shamelessly checking out your outfit now, “not at all…”
You were wearing a tight white button-up that exposed all your cleavage with a high-pleated skirt and heels.
And if anyone looking didn’t know any better, they’d probably think you were either trying to seduce the professor or get away with wearing borderline lingerie in public—
“There has to be a reason you approached me on orientation,” you began again, reaching in your backpack to pull out your notebooks and stationary, “why?”
“Well,” he started while clearing his throat slightly, “you can’t blame me for wanting to reconnect with an old lover, right?”
“Friend, Jake… we were just friends…”
“Okay, okay, whatever you wanna call it, but,” he whispered, leaning closer to you now as he spoke right below your ear, “wasn’t the sex just amazing… Pretty?”
You angrily swatted his hand from your thigh, to which he snickered at you.
Again.
“Listen, I’m an entirely different woman from the broken one you met two months ago… what we had was nothing,” you whisper-yelled, eyes filled with frustration.
“It certainly doesn’t seem like it was nothing,” Jake said, but his expression had lost its luster as his resting face became blank, and you’re just now realizing that your hand was gripped around his neck tie.
Click click.
The sound of the classrooms front door sounded, craning open with a loud creak to reveal the long-awaited English professor, the bustling classroom gracing her with their full attention.
“Good morning, my bright and wonderful students,” the heavy-set woman announced with glee as she walked up to the chalkboard, “anybody miss me?… No? Just my puppies at home? Okay, let’s get started then… You youngsters can call me Ms. Thompson, by the way!”
God—you sighed within yourself at her attempt to be likable despite her egregious sense of humor—Thursdays were going to be a lot longer than you anticipated…
“Uhm, Britney Spears, why don’t you come up to the board for me real quick,” the teacher said about thirty minutes into the session, and you were so lost in your head, you hadn’t even realized.
“It’s ____, ma’am,” you corrected her, not wanting to have a permanent nickname on the first day of college.
“Could’ve fooled me… anyhow, let’s make our topic of arguments a little more personal now… is there anyone in this room who you’d like to envision as your target offender?”
A smile creeped upon your face at this opportunity, “Yes, actually.”
Your eyes went straight to Jake, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know exactly who you were looking at, especially with the way his face looked now.
“Great! Come on up, Misterrrr…”
“Sim,” he said shyly, standing right beside you at the front of the class.
“Now, state your stance on the following argument, Ms. ____. Today’s topic issss,” her voice trailed off as she fished through her pile of notecards, “The Relevance of the Past in Shaping Identity!”
The classroom air grew thick with anticipation, as mostly everyone in the class had seen they way you two were acting earlier, and the café video that went viral earlier that week.
Though, given your outfit, you were already in the mood for attention today, so this was the perfect topic choice for you to spark a heated debate.
“I just think the past should be left in the past. We shouldn’t let it define who we are today.”
“Could you be more descriptive?” Ms. Thompson urged.
“Well… my view is that we shouldn’t associate any sort of relevance to our past selves and experiences, as we only limit what our future selves can achieve,” you clarified, trying your best to sound confident.
The professor nodded at your words, and you nearly giggled at the look on Jake’s face now.
“Any students in favor of ____’s stance?”
You noticed a little less than half of the classroom raised their hand, with one student in particular extending her hand above everyone elses.
“Yes, Ms. Castillo?”
“I agree with ____’s stance as I believe that humans should treat their lives as the butterfly by means of metamorphosis, where we reflect on our past, reject it, and eventually transform into something more beautiful.”
“This is especially true for victims or survivors, as they might view their past as a hinderance to their growth and finding new identity,” another boy added.
Crossing your arms, you watched as Jake cleared his throat like he always did, right before saying the most annoying shit imaginable.
“You see, that’s where you’re wrong, class. The past is crucial to our character development. You can’t just pretend you’re from a different walk of life or… I don’t know, change your hair a little bit and call it an identity swap…”
A murmur of agreement and disagreement rippled through the class up until a voice from the back spoke up.
It was Alex, a student known for their liberal insights. “Um… sorry to interrupt you Jake, that’s offensive to queer and transitioning people. Please use more inclusive language.”
A few students behind Alex snorted at their words, but Jake’s face flushed with realization, and he nodded respectfully.
“You’re 100% right, Alex. I didn’t mean to offend anyone. I just think that our experiences are relevant in shaping who we are, and that no amount of ‘make-believe’ can erase the impact of the past on both our present and future lives…”
Jake is handling this much better than you thought he would’ve, even though he was picking at his nail bed like a madman.
Ms. Thompson is quick to sense the growing tension though, and steps in before the debate lasts the entire class duration.
“Alright, everyone. Let’s remember that we’re here to learn and respect each other’s opinions. ____ and Jake, you both have valid points. The past can be both a burden and a guide, however, it’s ultimately up to each individual to decide how they let it influence their present and future.”
The class fell silent, reflecting on the professor’s words while scribbling copious notes down in their notebooks.
You flashed Jake a glance, one that he couldn’t read at first, but it still made him feel uneasy.
“So uhhh… that’s how you have an opinionated argument, everyone!” The teacher chirped awkwardly, “you may return to your seats, Mr. Sim and Ms. ____… thank you to everyone who participated in this portion… now, as we turn to page 13, we find that…”
Friday
At the end of class yesterday, Ms. Thompson assigned you and Jake to produce a group PowerPoint presentation by the following week, and you weren’t dreading it as much as you could have.
Your little tough and mean girl act seemed to have successfully scared Jake into some submission towards you… plus, you were having way too much fun teasing him everyday to turn down an opportunity to hang with him one on one.
You both were currently sitting in the campus’s private library to do research on your topic. It was relatively late in the day, so no one was there except you two.
By now, you had already punked Jake into bringing you coffee from the café that was literally a 20 minute walk away, and into agreeing that he’d produce most of the project on his own, but your fun with him hadn’t ended just yet.
Sad as it sounds, he just looked too cute while reading to himself in the grand brown chair across from you… you wouldn’t dare leave him there to study in peace, not while you were in the mood for chaos.
“Jakeyyy~” your voice sang with a cloyingly sweet melody, making his face flush with embarrassment behind his thick-framed glasses at the nickname.
Closing the book he was reading, Jake walked over to where you sat with your foot extended before him, a messy cluster of shoe strings dangling at your ankles.
“A little help here?” You continued, subtly squishing your breasts together with your arms while looking into his eyes.
“Sure,” is all he says as a small smile overtakes his feature. Kneeling down obediently before you, he took your ankle into his grasp, getting to work at re-tying the shoelace for you.
“Thanks,” you say, leaning forward to ruffle his hair as he taps your other foot, signaling for you to lift it so he can re-tie the lace there it as well.
“I didn’t just call you over here to tie my shoes though, Jake,” you whisper, drawing his gaze from your shoes and up to your eyes.
He holds back a sigh, and his chest expands because of it, “What else is it that you want then, ____—“
“Pretty,” you corrected him, moving your foot from his grasp only to let your leg fall, gently pressing the weight of your foot into his bulge, “we talked about this yesterday, Jake… you will never address me by my first name, understood?… Or is that too much to ask?”
Jake felt his whole stomach tense up at the feeling of your foot pressing into his groin, and he tried his best to get a solid answer out, knowing that prolonged silence would only bother you further.
“N-no,” he breathes out shakily, barely meeting your gaze now as the temperature in his face became hotter and hotter, with a mix of his own arousal, embarrassment, and anger, “I u-understand, Pretty…”
You let yourself smile at his compliance, releasing the pressure from your foot in his lap.
“So pathetic,” you announced, watching as he caught his breath on the ground, “I can get you to do anything for me, can’t I Jake?…”
He’s silent for a moment, making you feel impatient now that he was resisting all of a sudden.
“Jakey, I asked you a question—”
“And you really shouldn’t talk to me like that unless you want some sense fucked into you,” he retorted, making your eyes widen with genuine shock at his sudden boldness.
“Excuse me?” You asked with a scoff, but your voice gets lost in the sound of him getting up from the floor, standing over you, caging you beneath his frame in a way that intimidates you.
Jake had been swallowing his pride with you for long enough, and wasn’t gonna let another day pass without putting you in your place.
“I’ve been getting real sick of you treating me like this, y’know that ____?”
But before you can even think to answer, he’s reaching for the cup of coffee he fetched for you earlier and bringing it to your mouth, a ring of condensation glistening on the desk.
Trying to maintain your dominance, you let out a feigned laugh of amusement that Jake is quick to cut off with his stern words.
“Jake, what is this, huh?” You asked, giving him a fed up look even though your heartbeat was beating faster than the speed of light below his dark gaze.
“Drink it, ____….” He orders with a deep voice, eyes becoming so dark now that you can’t even bring yourself to refuse.
And you’re impossibly annoyed, too… by the way he’s very intentionally using your real name while simultaneously making you feel as feeble as a fairy.
Hesitantly bringing the cup to your mouth, it doesn’t take long before Jake smacks the coffee out of your hand, leaving the cold liquid to spill all over you.
“Jake, what the fuck?!” You shouted, shivering as the caramel-colored liquid trickled into all the intimate crevices of your body.
“How embarrassing,” he said, shaking his head, “making such a mess of yourself in front of me…”
Balling your fists, you look him dead in the eyes as you shout, “That was all you’re doing, you stupid fucking clutz- JAKE, s-stop that!” Your voice cracked at the feeling of his hand smacking you across the face now, surely leaving a cut in your lip as he soon went to squish your lips together into an odd shape, maintaining a painful grip.
“If only your brain was as big as your tits,” he clicked his teeth, wearing a somewhat neutral facial expression at first until a smirk started tugging at the corner of his lips…
“And now you’re crying?” He scoffs, almost as if both annoyed and amused by the moisture forming at the beds of your eyes.
During all this though, your mind was in a complete haze, not being able to wrap your head around how innocent he still looked while talking to you like this…
Hell, even his cheeks were still blushing, and you could tell he was getting harder behind his pants.
Jake caught onto your staring though, swallowing the urge to just fuck you right then and there.
“Take off your top,” he demanded, releasing your face from his grip and taking a few steps back, “I can’t believe you even want to be called ‘pretty’ while wearing such a filthy thing…”
“Who cares? You still got hard just from looking at me,” you jabbed back through a wobbly voice given your tears.
That’s when a feeling of chills ran up and down your skin, and it’s hard to keep up the tough girl act once Jake started unbuckling the belt he wore, keeping an intense eye contact with you the entire time.
“Just like old times,” he said, making your organs irk at how easily you found yourself falling down the same rabbit hole with him, but things were far too gone to turn back now. You complied with his words, sliding your top over your head and exposing yourself now, the swell of your breasts looking so delightful while cupped in the lace of your bra.
“You’re making this too easy for me,” he grinned, tossing his belt to the floor with a clink before closing the space between you both, still standing up as he slides his fingers against your scalp, gently gripping the hair.
But it feels so good that you almost purr at the contact, even though his behavior was a bit unsettling to you.
That’s when he landed another smack to your face, snickering at how loud you winced given the sudden shock of sensations.
“God, what the hell is wrong with you?” You yell at him, trying to escape his daunting frame but you have no chance against his strength, especially not while sitting down in a chair… “You’re a freak, Jake!”
You kept wrestling beneath him, provoking him to yank your arm harshly and pull you out of the chair and onto the floor, your bare knees hitting the floor with a thud.
“And you’re a little bitch,” he bit back, handling your body with ease as he situates you before him on your knees, taking your spot in the chair and spreading his legs.
And his belt isn’t too far from him now either, compelling him to reach down for it and use it to secure one of your wrists to the chair before finally shimmying his pants down.
So lost in your thoughts, you watch with a mix of fear, disgust, and anticipation at the erectness hiding behind his boxers, just as his taunting voice resounds again.
“C’mon, ____… it’s about time you make good use of that big mouth of yours…”
With teary eyes, you watch as his full length slips out, smacking against his abdomen as the burning in your restrained wrist feels worse now.
Everything feels worse now… you had never felt so humiliated in your entire life.
He tapped the tip of his cock against your lips, using a thumb at your jaw to pry your mouth open and push himself in.
And as much as you didn’t wanna admit it, you were enjoying this a lot more than expected…
You had always preferred men who were more on the submissive side, and Jake, being a nerdy introvert, was no exception to that craving.
However, you didn’t mind him getting a little rough with you either, and perhaps that’s why you felt ashamed for it… you felt vulnerable with the idea of admitting you liked being someone else’s play thing…
“Stroke me like you used to, ____… ‘atta girl,” he groaned, watching with pleasure as you let your free hand find his shaft, stroking the bass as he kept your mouth secured around the tip.
And as embarrassing as it sounds, you felt yourself getting wet just from sucking him off, the sounds of your own throat gurgling around his length being a turn on for the both of you.
“I bet you still haven’t even told your friends about what really happened between me and you, huh? Imagine if they knew your lips liked sucking my cock just as much as they liked lying…” he slithered, keeping your head angled back just enough for him to get a full look at your face while you took him in your mouth.
Jake soon catches onto the way you’re closing your thighs together as tears continue to well in your eyes, and he lets himself snicker at how needy and pathetic you looked before him...
“What is it, Pretty? Hm? Don’t want your friends to find out about how much of a raging cock-slut you are?”
You moaned softly as he gently pulled your head from around him, and a string of your own saliva and his precum keeps you two connected as he finally loosens the belt around your wrist.
“When’d you get so mean, Jake?” You asked weakly, voice a bit raspy now after taking him in your mouth.
He almost couldn’t look you straight in the eye after asking that, but he had to keep his act going… he had to put you in your place—
“I only get this way when I have to,” he practically whispered, and part of you couldn’t even get annoyed with him for it.
You felt the same just a few moments ago, and you’re just now realizing how much you and Jake really have in common—
“Get up,” he ordered, and you listened, standing on shaky legs as he pulled your panties down, letting them rest at your ankles as he stood up to meet you.
Without speaking, he simply pointed at the chair he was just sitting in, and you’re given the opportunity to choose the position.
You decide to get back on your knees, bend over the chair, and stick your bare ass out for him, and he snickered at the sight, kneeling down himself now.
He ran a hand over the curve of your hip before landing a hard smack there, his own cock twitching every time you winced.
After this, he wastes no time in gliding his cock between your folds, right before plunging his tip into your sloppy cunt and groaning at the feeling.
“Fuck~,” he cursed under his breath, trying to adjust himself inside you, “has it really been so long that even your pussy’s gotten tighter?”
“Well your tiny cock definitely didn’t get any bigger- nghh~…,” you whined through a bitten lip, trying to suppress your moaning as he started to bottom out, over and over again.
“And here I was thinking you’d actually shut up for once,” he sighed, but his voice was clearly being affected by the way you felt around him.
He had been missing this… all of it, and not even just the sex. Jake wanted more to come out of your relationship with him, but if this is how you wanted to play, so be it—he still got something good out of it.
You can’t remember what you were going to say, but your thoughts were harshly cut by the feeling of his hand pulling you up by your throat and holding you close to his body.
“Let’s see… do you still squirm while having your tits touched? Do you still squirt just from the sound of my voice?” He whispered, and your breath was so restricted that all you could do was pant pathetically.
His released his grip pretty quickly though, only for his hands to find your breasts and fondle with them as he picked up the pace of his thrusts.
“J-Jake,” your voice bobbled, given the strong impact of his hips behind you, “d-don’t you fucking dare…”
“What do you mean, Pretty?” He asked, snickering now at the way your thighs trembled briefly, “you’re a flashy little bitch, but that doesn’t mean I can read your mind…”
You groaned at his words, feeling lightheaded now that his tip was brushing up against your cervix.
“Don’t… fuckkk~… don’t tell anyone about this…”
“Which part of this, hm?” He asked knowingly, “the part where I made you cry or the part where I finish inside you?”
“N-not any of it, just- please…” your words slurred, and your heart started to ache just as much as your core with a mix of worry and desperation.
Of course, you were enjoying every part of this, but you didn’t wanna face the embarrassment that’d come with it if anyone found out…
Just imagine it… how down bad must you be to (1) let a guy hit it after treating you like shit, and (2) in the middle of the campus library of all places?
He’s slamming into you so hard and fast that you lost track of your thoughts again, and the squelching sounds coming from the two of you only adds to the warmth growing in your faces—
“That’s really what you want? Huh?” Jake asked with a low growl to his voice, and all you can reply with is a string of whiny yes’s.
“Beg for it louder,” he demanded, “beg for me to keep fucking you like a good little slut…”
And you did, letting your hips bounce to a rythme with his thrusts as your high drew closer and closer to approaching.
“P-please, Jake! I’ll do anything! I’ll be a g-good cock-slut just for you if that’s what you want… I-I’ll even let you cum in me,” you stammered, only for your pleading lips to trail off as a symphony of moans ripped through your body, his harsh hand smacking your ass one more before holding you in place by a handful of your hair.
“Yea, Pretty? Want me to fill your juicy pussy up with my cum? Gonna let me fuck it back into you nice and slow? Yea?” He rambled breathlessly, panting in place of groaning so he could get his words out better.
Crying out another yes, Jake’s hip plummeted into you as hard as they could, your breasts rocking back and forth with the force until you finally felt it; your walls pulling him in as his first spurt made you shiver, and then his second spurt made you climax.
“Awww, fuck!” You whimpered, shaking beneath him as he rode out his high inside you.
It didn’t take long for him to stand up, though, and just in time to pull up his pants and readjust your panties before the library doors creaked open as a new soul joined the space.
It was a girl. You could tell me the gentle hums that bumped from her throat, echoing off of the shelves of books.
“____! Minji said I might find you studying here, so I came to check since you’ve been hiding from us… And don’t even think about scolding me for yelling in here!” The voice called out, and you immediately knew it was Juria from her accent.
She had just came back from class to return a few books that she borrowed earlier, and your heart never pumped as fast as it did when Jake landed a harsh smack to your clothed cunt while holding you in place, even though you tried squirming away.
Everything in you was fighting to avoid being caught like this, and even more so because Juria was literally 30ft away from you two.
When she finally made her way over, though, the poor girl nearly dropped the stack of books she was holding, delicate eyebrows furrowing behind her silky bangs as her lips asked the words, “What on earth happened over here?”
You were sitting beside a now standing Jake with your cold ass right against the tile floor as you lazily slumped over the reading chair, being too fucked out to bother moving.
Your hair was a mess atop your head and your outfit was totally disarrayed, foggy mascara smudged beneath your swollen eyes and your whole body reeking of bittersweet aromas.
Juria couldn’t put a finger on it, but she knew something had happened. Something off…
“She spilled coffee all over herself…” Jake eventually answered, an aura of emptiness being present in both his expression and tone… an eeriness that made both you and Juria tremble in the knees…
From that moment, he simply walked past you both, looking back only once before leaving… he glanced at you first before looking Juria straight in the eye, his expression only now softening as one last line escaped his venomous lips…
“Such a silly girl, isn’t she?…”
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⋆♱✮ Thank you to everyone who made it to the end of this fic, which actually concludes DAY 7 of my Kinktober Event !! If you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!
⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:
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⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:
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lavenderchqn · 2 months ago
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"PILLOWS AND THEIR FORTS"
synopsis — after a day escalates in you being fully deflated, kinich proves you that love comes in more than one way pairing — kinich x gn!reader warnings — minor character having a stereotypical outlook on what love is, a very minor panic attack notes — just a small kinich fic, since I'm enjoying him a lot recently
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You stifled a yawn, exhausted at the day you unfortunately had to experience. 
The beginning of a new semester was always rough — dealing with new subjects, professors, or fellow students. Sad to say, what it also came with was… bloody in-person lectures. Combining those with your first practical subjects, you were stuck at university since 8 AM. 
Checking at your phone, you’ve discovered you were almost here for 12 hours. The clock has struck a miserable 7:28 PM. Only twelve more minutes and you’d be free to go home. To your beloved blankets. To your beloved pillows. 
“Earth to my lovely friend!” Your university bestie said, her voice muffled. You noticed her hands waving in front of your face. How did she manage to still feel energised was quite a mystery. 
“What’s up?” You asked, laying your head on your arms.
“Look at the boy I’m trying to get with…” She handed her phone to you, giving you full access to her full dating app conversation. “Quite the catch, dare I say~” 
You hummed, acknowledging her words. Unfortunately for her, your brain was not responsive enough to entertain her situation. “Looks nice, I guess…” 
“I know, right! Not to mention,  he’s such a romantic!!” She tried to further prove her point by all the serenade-like words the guy had sent. 
“I’m happy for you… let me nap now, please…” You closed your eyes, trying to conserve the last bits of your energy. Sadly, that was not doable due to a sudden thunderclap startling you back to full attention. Did it seriously start to rain just now?!
On a day… when you had decided to leave your umbrella back at home? Great, just great.
The lecture soon ended, and slouched people left the classroom trying to find any means of getting home. 
“My soon-to-be boyfriend said he can pick me up!” Your friend jumped in excitement. “Sometimes I pity you for still staying with Kinich, you know?” 
Oh. That was new.
“What do you mean?” You stopped, staring your friend down. What did he have to do with anything?
“You’re too good for him!” Her voice strikes back. “Surely you could do much better with a guy who can prove their love to you!” 
Her attitude was less than enjoyable at that moment. 
You pinched the bridge of your nose. That was certainly not the time to have an argument with a friend. Your head was pounding — a cumulative effort of fatigue mixed with your sensitivity to weather. 
“Whatever.” You scoffed. “You’re not the one in this relationship, so what makes you think your opinion matters?” 
With those words, you were off. Into the cold and rain, you went. 
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By the time you make it, you’re soaked from head to toe. You sigh as you turn the key to the house. Halfway through your walk back, you remembered that tonight was your turn to cook dinner. Only gods can hope, that Kinich isn’t upset with you.
The moment you step through the door, you’re hit with the smell of a freshly cooked dinner. Did he get so fed up he ordered something? 
You don’t even have time to think, swift footsteps coming in your direction.
“Holy fuck. I knew it started raining, but this much?” Kinich helps you in getting off your bag before heading to the bathroom. 
He’s soon back, with a stack of towels. 
“You’re alright, Love. I’ve got you.” He starts to dry your hair, doing his best not to damage your hair. Your head hangs low — you don’t want your partner to look at your face. It’s hard to even think when tears have joined all the water drops you’re covered with. 
Kinich must know something, as he doesn’t even question your odd behaviour. He dries as much water as he can. “Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom?” He asks. 
“Huh?” You finally look at him, confusion in your eyes. “Why would you?” 
“Because,” He flicks your shoulder lightly. “You need a shower before you get sick.” 
With that, he picks you up and carefully carries you to the bathroom. 
“I’m going to get you some warm and cosy clothes for when you’re done.” He sets you down in the middle of the bathroom, in front of the shower. “Once you’re done, we’re going to eat dinner.” 
“A-Alright.
You stand there frozen for a moment once Kinich leaves, staring at the shower, still in a daze from everything that had happened throughout the day. The exhaustion weighing heavily on your shoulders finally catches up, and you let out a long sigh before undressing and stepping into the warm water.
As the heat cascades over your skin, the tension in your body begins to ease. You let the water wash away not only the grime from the rain but also the stress of the day. You can’t help but think back to your friend's words — her judgment about your relationship with Kinich. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but as the warm water envelops you, you realise how unfair it was to let those words affect you. Kinich was always there for you, always patient, always understanding. Her words didn’t matter. 
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After a while, you finally get out of the shower, feeling lighter, though still emotionally drained. You dry yourself off and slip into the cosy clothes Kinich had laid out for you. As you open the bathroom door, the smell of dinner wafts through the air again. Your stomach growls, reminding you that you haven’t eaten much today.
Walking into the kitchen, you see Kinich setting the table. He looks up and smiles slightly when his eyes meet yours. "Feel better?”
You nod, offering a small smile in return. "Yeah, thanks… And sorry for not making dinner tonight.”
“Do I need to flick your forehead harder?” He asks, head tilted looking at your face confused. “I don’t need an apology.” 
“B-but…” 
“Shush.” He hands you the cutlery, before taking a seat himself. “Enjoy the meal, we’re having a cosy night once you’re done.” 
“Cosy night?—“ You turn around to look at the living room. 
There’s a pillow fort there. Fully fortified, oozing with pure comfiness.  
You stare at the pillow fort, blinking in disbelief. Kinich, always full of surprises, had somehow managed to set up the cosiest little corner of the living room while you were in the shower. Soft blankets draped over chairs and an assortment of pillows arranged perfectly. 
“You did all this while I was showering?” you ask, your voice soft with awe.
Kinich chuckles as he takes a bite of his food. “Sure did. Figured you could use a bit of comfort after the day you’ve had. Plus, we haven’t had a good pillow fort night in ages.”
Soon after,  the meal comes to an end. You both clear the table and Kinich gestures toward the fort. “Fort time?” he asks with a grin.
You nod eagerly, following him into the living room. The fort is even cosier up close, with a pile of your favourite snacks and a movie queued up on the laptop nestled inside. Kinich climbs into the fort first, patting the spot beside him, and you quickly follow, snuggling into the soft pillows as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.
For a while, you both just sit there, the warmth of the fort and his presence surrounding you like a shield against the outside world. The rain continues to tap against the windows, however inside, everything feels safe and perfect.
“Thank you, Kinich,” you whisper, resting your head against his chest. “For everything.”
He starts stroking your back. “Of course. It’s the least I could do, to make your day less shitty.”
And in that moment, you realise that he truly did that. Despite the rough day, despite your friend’s hurtful words, sitting here in this homemade fort with Kinich by your side, you feel truly content… 
Knowing that love can be more than words. 
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date of posting — september 16th 2024
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cosmicplexus · 7 months ago
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Random Astrology Observations
🌻I wasn't feeling lazy today so this is a bit longer than the usual observation posts🌻
🦋And finally the pricing catalogue is here...at the end of the observations 🦋
Thank you so much my sunflowers🌻your support has been everything. I try my best to respond to your messages and requests. If you haven't received a response, I'm coming 🤍✨
And I tried my best to be reasonable with the prices. Also, I'm not yet doing full chart readings as I am a student with two majors and I'm already struggling with balancing things. In time I will do them. Free one question culture requests are still open, but please don't request for things you see on the pricing catalogue like a big three reading...
I don't want to bore you all too much so here we go🧚🏾‍♀️🦋🌻✨
Astrology Notes...
~4th house Gemini makes for someone who develops family-like bonds in friendships.
~taurus risings tend to be possessive due to the influence of their scorpio 7th house.
~pluto at angular houses 1st, 7th, 4th and 10th is a huge indicator of someone who has had intense experiences in the respective key areas of life and there's spiritual lessons to be learnt regarding that area through transformation.
~libra venus placements may find it really hard to stay single
~7° and 19° venus or moon signs may struggle with the theme of physical perfection and wanting to attain it.
~virgo moons have a tendency of creating problems if they don't have any current ones to solve
~capricorn risings really do look older in their younger days and younger when they're older.
~moon and neptune in 1st house natives may give off the perception that they need saving and may attract people with a martyrdom complex.
~sagittarius, 9th house, 9° and 21° mercuries may have an affinity to music in foreign languages while cancer, 4th house, 4°,16°,28° may enjoy music in their mother tongue
~jupiter in 2nd house and 10th house is heavy lotto winner vibes. Literally and figuratively.
~mercury in 2nd house and at Taurean degrees(2°,14° and 26°) are the born singers
~the 22nd degree is an underrated fame degree...I have a bey's🐝 fame analysis I've been sitting on for a while. That's a conversation for another day.
~pisces venus and mars are the most romantic people in the world which makes me kind of believe the astrology theory of neptune being the higher frequency of venus.
~leo moons really take their hair seriously and may feel out of loop if their hair is not well done.
~want to easily impress a cancer mars man??? Sing praises to your mom. Be dotting around kids.
~girls with 9th house, 9° and 21° Venus are so magically beautiful. Abundance of beauty.
~To a decent degree, liberation of women in society came at the expense of gemini, sagittarius and aquarius venus women being slut-shamed(This is not at all saying other women did not contribute to the liberation of women 🌻✨ That's a conversation for another day)
~neptune plays a huge role in beauty trends and that's why neptune dominant women are usually the beauty influencers which explains why beauty standards are mutable and ever changing.
~jupiter in 7th house can go two ways... extreme luck in meaningful relationships or someone who never has serious relationships and is forever on the look...
~pisces/12th house mercuries and mercury afflicted by neptune are often under fire for being the liars when the real culprit is the sagittarius/9th house mercuries and mercury-jupiter hard aspects.
~I personally view the north node as a jupiter variant. While the general consensus is that it is the purpose we're working for, I do believe that it's also an indicator of our birthrights, innate gifts and where we're lucky.
~Cosmic Plexus🌻🤍
§~PRICE CATALOGUE~§ ~PAID READINGS COMMENCE ON THE 16th of May 2024 🦋DETAILED BIG THREE READING ~ $6.00
🦋5 IN-DEPTH SYNASTRY QUESTIONS READING ~ $9.00 🦋OVERALL SYNASTRY ADVICE ~ $3.00
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Let me know your thoughts...
~Cosmic Plexus🤍✨🌻🦋©️
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physalian · 9 months ago
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What No one Tells You about Writing Fantasy, #2!
I did this list about 7 annoyances about fantasy, but I write in this genre for a reason! Fantasy knows no bounds, it can encompass all other genres within it. You can write a fantastical murder mystery, fantasy horror, fantasy romance, political drama, slice-of-life, comedy, whatever you’d like!
Whether it’s urban or high fantasy, supernatural or scientific, here’s seven great benefits of writing in this genre:
1. No modern means of communication
Unless you’re writing a world with phones or phone-adjacent devices. Phones and instant communication seriously inhibits the plausibility of dramatic irony and tension when you have to keep coming up with reasons to keep your characters from calling or texting each other everything they know. It’s exhausting, I tell you, and such a relief when phones aren’t a factor.
With that said, without phones, you have complete freedom to design your own magical channels of supernatural FaceTime, as weird and zany as you want. But without instant connections? Your character who knew too much can’t pass on the intel before they die. Your hero team can’t call for backup in their darkest hour. Otherwise easily preventable tragedies and deadly miscommunications are now very real.
2. The Monster Allegory
Fantasy and sci-fi tend to overlap more than they’re set apart, and in that overlap sits the monster allegory. Everything from werewolves to vampires to witches, reapers, demons, angels, goblins, trolls, wraiths, fairies, mermaids, ghosts, to Eldritch horrors and your classic Hollywood cast of mummies, creatures from the black lagoon, and Frankenstein.
Most of the time, the monsters aren’t just monsters, they represent a monstrous aspect of society the author wants to challenge and caricaturize in a fun and entertaining way. Or, the monsters are the good guys and the humans are the real terrors. Or, you’ve got two kinds of monsters to allegory two human sides. Sometimes they represent metaphorical demons, like vampires often representing addiction and werewolves repressed identities.
What all of this boils down to is the hyperbolic nature of science fantasy that allows you to go over-the-top with your metaphor and allegory in a way that a book grounded in reality just can’t.
3. Magic Systems!
Do you love world building? Do you love filling pages upon pages with your cool and unique set of superpowers you want your characters to have? Do you dream about your fight scenes and dramatic slow-mo shots?
Then Fantasy is for you!
There are zero limits to how you want to define your magic system. You can go classic with the familiar archetypes of elemental magic, wizards, sorcerers, and witches. Or you can step off the beaten path and design a whole new funky system of power sets. Best part? Your readers will have an awesome time imagining themselves with those powers, and debating endlessly about how it works.
4. Real-World Politics, who?
Amazon’s Rings of Power was twice-doomed when they only got the rights to adapt the appendices of The Silmarillion and when they decided to inject current political problems into a timeless story written purposefully to be divorced from those politics. You *can* write about human politics, but in fantasy, you don’t have to. You *can* interpret Lord of the Rings to be an allegory about the World Wars, but no matter how hard you argue, it wasn’t written with that intent.
Which means: Even if your story is set in the reality-adjacent fantasy version of 1543, you are free from the following: Racism, homophobia, sexism, religious bigotry, mental health bigotry, gender norms, anti-feminism, toxic masculinity, and more. “But that’s how it was-”
Nope. This is fantasy. You built this world, you decided to keep in the discrimination. Or… You can fill your fantasy world with a rainbow of gays, POCs in power, women in power, men unafraid to be compassionate and caring, a religion that doesn’t foster hate and division, the list goes on. You. Are. Free.
5. Nothing is too “unrealistic”
Both that you will always have people whining about how X would never happen so write the book you want to read, but also because fantasy is fake. Fairies aren’t real. Mermaids aren’t real. There are no rules for how they must be written and that’s how we have so much variety with so much room for interpretation by so many creators. Twilight made how much money writing about vampires that sparkle like diamonds in sunlight and crack like marble?
This is fantasy, it’s supposed to be unrealistic. Yes, your plot should make sense, but don’t be afraid to get weird. Write at least some of your story dependant on those fantasy elements. Write a story that can’t just be told in the real world minus the spectacle. Don’t be afraid to be sincerely fantastical and weird. People love weird. People love loving weird.
6. You are in complete control
But you do still need to research, unfortunately. Unless this is urban fantasy that depends at least a little on the human world, yours is completely your own to govern like a god tweezing weeds from their garden. You get to design your own geography and weather patterns and seasons. Your own countries and kingdoms and politicians. Your epic pre-canon fantasy war and the stakes that it was fought over. Your species, races, and ethnicities.
It’s a shame that a movie like Avatar (2009) set out to be this wholly unique take on aliens with music completely divorced from earthly bonds, new languages and a visually and culturally distinct alien species… and ended up a largely generic blue Pocahontas in space. It forgot that it was fantasy and didn’t go weird enough. They have horses, monkeys, wolves, rhinos, and deer just re-skinned with some extra limbs and colors. It’s pretty but it’s so, so shallow.
It could have become a cult classic like many a positively *weird* 80s off-beat fantasies, and now it just… exists. It makes a whole lot of money but its impact on the cultural zeitgeist is negligible. I’m the only person I know that can name every major character in the movie, and I’m no Avatar obsessor. They had complete creative control, and this is what they did with it. Don’t be Avatar. Take your creative freedom and run.
7. Even if it has been done before, do it again
You can say this about any genre, particularly romance, but fantasy and sci-fi, by the gatekeep-y nature of their fans, can be a lot less forgiving when it comes to claims of “unoriginality”. No one hates Star Wars more than Star Wars fans. Fans of these genres can get… concerningly attached to their favorite stories (mostly because the people who like them had only their fictional heroes to protect them from very real bullies).
But Game of Thrones exists because the author likes Lord of the Rings and went “yes, but what if it was an R-rated parade of misery?” Dungeons and Dragons exists because people wanted to roleplay in an LotR-esque world. Legolas and Gimli single-handedly defined what a badass elf and dwarf looks like in high fantasy. And people still gobble up media ripping shamelessly, or even good-naturedly, from this one story.
So on my other list, I argued that the sum of your parts is still original, even if the components aren’t. On this list, I implore you this: It’s not stealing or appropriating to write another Legolas if you love Legolas. Everyone loves Legolas. How many generic buff action heroes do we have and love? How many Hallmark romances tread the same predictable path? Who gives a damn if it’s unoriginal? Just make it entertaining and have something fresh to say in the end (or don’t, that’s fine too), and people will read it.
And when people say “Oh, you mean like Legolas”, take it as a compliment, not an insult. Yes, exactly like Legolas. Here’s my new elf because I adore this other book, now watch him go on a new adventure that I wrote for him.
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deesseshesca · 2 months ago
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PAC : What is your desire reality ?
Stay ! They don't love you like I love you...
Good morning pretty soul ! I am so excited ... IS OFFICIALLY KINKTOBER ! DAY : 4-5
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PILE 1 
Death, 3 pentacles (reverse), 10 swords 
The end of your relationship is imminent, which is necessary. Y’all sitting so far away from each other that you look like a stranger. Y’all do love each other but don’t like each other. Meaning there's good intention, respect and affection for one and other but you can’t stand each other.  They are always choosing work over you. There’s nothing you can do. A situation is going to present itself in which you have no other choice but part away and a sense of relief will come mixed with worryness. Because you will finally be free from that problem. The reality is that this connection was built on shallow foundations. You went for them because they loved their work and were well off. So you feel secure that they have their shit together which safely help you blossom some romantic feelings but you quickly realize that you need more than just a provider to feel content. WARNING: You are soon going to reach your breaking point. I feel like you come from a family of bitter women. Who loves to hold down bums and loves to walk around saying ‘’he knows where home is ‘’ knowing damn well he has 3 babies on her. Others your own mom will always choose her little bf(s) before you. So you are scared that they are going to bully you because you choose a better man yet you're unhappy. First let them, old crooked big back bitter ugly wrinkly  faces bitches rot on their own. You decided you wanted more for yourself and you went for it. Whatever their old ass bitches with no teeth are saying is more than worthless. Now you actually know what you want and need and don’t let the validation of men dictate your life. Second, babe is not because a person does not change for you that you are undeserving of success. You were not made to prove your worth. You are not going to spend you whole life changing in hope to blend with your environments for fuck sake. You think you want to be chosen but you really want to be worth it. I am here to tell you that YOU ARE. Even though you grew up in a toxic environment, you took upon yourself to do the change. You parent yourself. You took it upon you to get a degree, get a car, get an appartement (in this fucking economy) and have a enough financial literacy to vacay twice a year. You don’t even realize that u are GOALS. Your inner child is proud of you, you have no idea. Stop trying to convince others and start choosing you !
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PILE 2 
7 wands, Knight swords, 6 wands, 3 wands 
Y’all want better but are not ready for the work necessary to achieve it. I am hearing Suki saying : ‘’Obstacles … What's obstacles ? I don’t know Obstacles…’’ Bitch is not because you are ignoring the obstacle that is not standing ahead of you. Y'all are also living in  poor areas. A lot of y’all the only heritage you have is poverty. Some of y’all live in the same house, in the same neighborhood from generation to generation. Is the only thing that your family has to their name. 
You are young (less than 25 years old). You have all the energy necessary to mold your raw potential. Your family may not support you in your endeavor towards a life of financial freedom not because they have ill intent but because they do not want you to be disappointed in it. They are so used to their rough financial situation that they are even proud of it. I’m hearing: ‘’ We always make it work …’’. But I swear they will support you sooner than you think because they seriously love you. When you are going to be sitting in a place that is more comfortable you are going to inspire a lot of aunties in your life to aim for more. You are going to be the blueprint of a change in your family finances. 
FEMININE ENERGY 
You are on the way to becoming nurses. Is one of your passions because serving and helping others are the times that you feel the most appreciated and valued. I see a future of intense but not so heavy schedule, big fat check, the shopping spree and the vacay whenever however. The most important is the pouring from your patient, family patient, your coworkers and community in praise for how amazing of a human not just a nurse you are. Y’all may even have your own charity to give back especially to  the neighborhood in which you grew up in. 
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MASCULINE ENERGY 
Your life has been stagnant lately and you are seriously thinking about joining the army. GREEN LIGHT. Your spiritual team is supporting you in that path. The way your brain function is going to bring a plus to the disciplinary structure of the military. That switch of career is exactly what you need. 
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PILE 3 
10 pentacles, 4 swords (reverse), Knight of cups, 8 pentacles 
Your energy SCREAMS influencer. Deep down in your soul all you want is peace. Y’all come from an extremely toxic household. 
Your dream reality is a happy household. Where there’s no constant screaming. Loving a supportive family of your own. A family that has an extremely strong bond that no matter what life throws at y’all, you guys come out even closer to each other. Living life with a husband/wife that doesn't mind sharing tasks. That enjoys changing the diaper, waking up early every morning to brew coffee for the both of y’all because he/she loves you and most importantly that LOVES spending time with his/hers kids. You want your home to be a synonym of a comfort place for your kids and a refuge for your partner. You want it to be your safe haven. Is not about everything going perfect but instead it is all about the constant happiness in the mundane from each member of the family. I see y’all with your hair in a bun, wearing a red t-shirt walking half asleep towards a crib of a baby girl. After leaving the warm embrace of your partner, who soon follows after you after y’all attempt to watch a movie. Even though you spend the whole day taking care of a newborn who woke up because his big brother was screaming at his video game. I’m hearing : ‘’ Sorry, mom !’’. I think that baby girl is a surprise baby because there is an age gap between your last one and her. Babe imma look deep into your eyes (as deep as the computer screen allows me), you deserve it. I know you are tired of the physical abuse you are experiencing in your family and you don’t want to stand up and speak your truth because you don’t want to end up in the system. So imma need y’all to lean on your friend. Because you need a safe place to release before that pain kills you. I feel like y’all have an amazing friend group and you need to stop focusing on the  big goal and take it step by step. I just ear you : ‘’ Who are u to tell me what to do ?’’ Answer: ‘’A bitch way more familiar with abuse than u think’’. Your life will not change overnight. You need to do a lot of healing before that reality comes to you. I know y’all are tired, everytime u build, your family fuck up. Imma tell you the way it is … they keep breaking because you allow it. When you stop seeking validation from them in a form of seeking understanding you are going to realize that you should have never sought validation from your abuser. I know that’s your parents but 2 truths can coexist trust me. Why the heck would you want validation from broken people when all you truly want is a wholesome family ? Do you take financial advice from a broke person when you want to make money ?. The sooner you are going to start living for yourself the faster that reality becomes yours. Stop thinking a man/woman is going to save you. Love won't make you see the light. Only you can bring yourself  out of your hole and then will the reward of love present itself. A lot of y’all want to be elementary or highschool teachers. I keep seeing someone strolling on tiktok, looking through ‘’ Day in the life of a teacher…’’. Some others of  y’all are actively studying towards a degree in education and the success and joy you are going to feel when walking the podium is going to be so overwhelming. Because you are the reason behind it. You are the one who put all the chances behind you to make your dream happen even though your biggest enemy was supposed to be your biggest supporter. Stay focus babe, everyone knows you deserve it more than anyone. You are the only one that seems to be missing the memo by the way you are behaving. 
💌 : If you wanna know how to use your sexual energy to manifest your desire reality, you always check this audio PAC which will also unlock all the extended content.
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yuri-is-online · 6 months ago
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Jade falling in love for the first time and being an absolute loser simp about it.
Yuu lives in his head and fantasies rent free; he can't get enough of them. He wrote about them in his diary (one with a lock on it because floyd likes to snoop). He needs them so bad. It's like that one meme where the girl is like "I need him in a way that's concerning to feminism". He's so desperate someone help him.
Bro has innocent little fantasies of them together, like Yuu waking up beside him and peppering his face in sweet little kisses while he tries to hold them closer and convince them to stay in bed for 5 more minutes (it never really does just end up being 5 minutes though), and then his thoughts just take a sharp turn and what was a sweet little daydream has turned into thoughts of him softly and sleepily fucking Yuu into his mattress. He didn't get to go back to sleep but he's not complaining about it if this is the cost he's paying. The world us cold and hard but you're soft and warm and if fantasies are the closest he's getting to that peace then so be it
He is one jealous eel (he is in deep denial about this but us slowly starting to realize just how far deep into this he us and he really doesn't want to acknowledge that), and he get the most jealous over the most innocent shit too. One day he sees Yuu and Epel talking in a language he doesn't recognize and he's like ???, and it turns out it's their native language but it doesn't exist here so he can't learn it dammit. He sees them struggling to do something and look around the library for help, skipping right over him and asking Ace ir Deuce for help. They've even picked Leona for help before him! Seriously he is RIGHT HERE! what can any of them do for Yuu that he can't?!
Jade has to be careful with his merform around them. Partially because everytime Yuu walks into the room his body suddenly decides to cosplay a laser rave, but also because he's been overthinking shit recently. Yuu is a human, painfully so. They're expecting a human courtship and a human marriage and a human family and a human life and. He can't give that to them. Not unless he stays on land forever, which he might be able to do, but realistically he wouldn't want to. So that leaves Yuu coming to the coral sea where it's cold and dark and he just can't see Yuu doing something like that (he's wrong you've wanted to be a mermaid ever since your cousin made you watch H2O when you were like 7), so now he just trys to be as human as possible around you so he doesn't scare you off.
Also there's the fact that every time spring transitions into summer and he's stuck in his merfirm for the next week and a half and now you really can't see him like this because if he sees you then you're going to be dragged into the water so fast with an 12 foot long eel wrapped around you while he desperately tries to stop himself from being too desperate and start rutting against you and- Oh great seven he's so sorry-
Oh, you like that? Your bringing his face to your neck and fuck you smell so nice and he's biting down and tearing your clothes apart with his claws before he knows what's going on and your legs are wrapping around his tail and-
... Grotto. Where's the grotto he had picked out? He was just in it where is it?
Jade asks you for art supplies in one of his birthday lines so he can draw while he hikes. His "diary" is something Floyd took an interest in once upon a time until he saw it full of mushrooms, rocks, and mountains. Jade still puts a lock on it because he finds it funny looking, but there's more than just mushrooms in there now. Need he's not merely in love he's in need of you and it's affecting his ability to function.
If he wakes up alone in his dreams he will find you in the kitchen, trying to hurry up and make your tea so you can so you can surprise him for once. It never works as he's able to trap you against the counter and breathe down your neck, winding himself around you as you laugh the pure music that he thinks your laugh would sound like as he presses into you so you can feel how much he wanted to to be next to you this morning. How troublesome that he had to go find you and draw out his suffering, not to fret. He loves you so, there's no reason to worry that he won't be gentle with how he lowers you down onto the counter, he'll still prepare you softly but he won't be slow in how he takes you-
He's slow to return to wakefulness, he doesn't mind the cold because it makes him feel at home but he does not like being alone. Loving you is a lot like losing you because he becomes so aware of how he is alone. Jade sees himself as a good person to ask for help, he does not think he is wrong in his benevolence but perhaps that's exactly the problem. Perhaps you know what trifling thing he is working towards obtaining and find him unworthy, Epel can speak to you in ways he can't (to ask you to teach him your speech is an option of course but he knows it's too intimate a thing to ask of you now), those fools found you first and treasured you when he made the awful, idiotic mistake of thinking you boring so of course you would see him in the same way. Of course you would feel safer asking things of Leona, he's the one who saved you while Jade was helping Azul drown you and it's not like he did much to make you see him when you stumbled into the Lounge running away from Jamil. You asked Leona for help, you came to them by accident, and Floyd was the one who got to carry you. Something he definitely didn't make fun of him of him for being jealous about. "Ya got to wake your mate up and see what they looked like sleepin' wasn't that nice?" Oh how he hard he wanted to punch his brother for that. So he did. It made him feel much better.
It takes time but he manages to weave his way into your orbit. He gets to see more of you, and he feels conflicted. The octotrio has gotten to see a lot of humanity, and they feel like they have enough of a grasp on them to conduct their business. That's something that certainly contributed to his thinking of you as boring of course but well. The more he sees of you now the more he realizes how little he really knows about humanity and the surface, he might not see the appeal of the surface world but he sees the appeal of you. Still he knows he wouldn't be happy if he stayed on it forever, how could he possibly ask the same of you? There's barely any sunlight under the water and humans need that to survive... he's done his research on corners of the internet he would have just laughed at before he fell for you and he knows what they say. That humans and merfolk only seldom stay together in the way that he wants, that they find his sort of merfolk to be terrifying. It can't help that he was your enemy at first can it...
I sort of like the idea that Yuu's interest in the less than human looking boys would be considered weird. The concept of a monsterfucker isn't foreign exactly but a monster-marry-and-raise-a-family-er is. There is a difference between a relationship and a sexual fantasy and Yuu sees no reason they can't have both, to the chagrin of damn near everyone around them. So it makes you sad to see him hide himself away from you and wonder why he hates his own beauty so much. He keeps his teeth from you, tries to hide his merform too and you just don't understand why. His bioluminescence takes your breath away and fills you with such soft stirrings of attraction you cry into your pillows and write 10 more pages about how desperately you want to drown yourself for just one chance with him! But he's running away from you and now Azul tells you he's going to be out of commission for a solid week with a sigh that you know is theatrical but still worries you. So you confront Jade about it and he seems almost sick, unable to control his transformation as he displays for you winding around the bubble that keeps you breathing outside of Octavinelle's dorm. The lights take your breath away long before he breeches the bubble to press up against you and moans somewhere deep into his throat letting his instincts guide him for just a few blissful seconds before he flops back with a stammer because oh no, not like this never like this please forgive him and run back to-
He's not expecting to be pulled back, you look as hungry as he feels as you guide him to your neck and whine something about how you need him when he's the one supposed to be saying that and scream in radiant joy when he bites. You are trying to wrap around him, to grind into him, babbling in frustration trying to scratch at his shoulders for a grip so you can wind your legs tighter around him-
He pushes the bubble away from the entrance and steers it haphazardly back, there's a place for this. Safe, secluded, and warm he made sure to pick one where a bit of sunlight could still reach the sandy floors and fuel you as he finally takes what you were always willing to give. Slowly and softly until he has you relaxed into his trap and then oh so gently for all the time after.
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thestarrynightslover · 6 months ago
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The Trials of Dating in Secrecy
Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader
Word count: 2,374
Warnings: Discussion, yelling, some angst, workplace romance, nudity, and verbal sexual harassment (all very light).
Summary: Okay, so this one features a bit of work issues (workplace romance), and a bit of jealous!Harvey + Harvey taking care of his girl, as requested by Anon.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the show Suits, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.
A/N: Well this is the first request I took and I’ll admit that it was a bit challenging, not cause it was particularly hard but because I wasn’t super inspired at first, nor did I have the time. Though, now, I think it worked? Idk, don’t feel like this was my best work either but feel free to leave some feedback, and thanks for reading!
(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)
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“Seriously, Harvey!” You let out annoyed. “I think I should probably go home now,” you said, thinking that if you did go home you could keep yourself from saying something you might regret later. 
“Oh, really? So now you're mad at me because I’m simply asking a bit more of this relationship?” He asked, looking ready to have a full-on fight.
“No, Harvey! What I’m actually upset about is how you’re making today all about yourself and your needs, when I’m the one going through it all!” You really didn’t wanna shout but the little bit of patience you had left vanished when his questions reminded you of the little stunt he’d pulled today.
Earlier that day, at the firm, you had been giving a consult to a prospective client on an intellectual property lawsuit he may be looking at and the guy seemed a bit disinterested in his own situation, giving you — and by you, you mean your body — most of his attention. But that was fineish, it was a regular occurrence, being a young woman in that field, so you didn’t really mind it anymore, at this point — after all, ignoring the occasional sexual harassment was usually the easiest route to advancing in your career. The problem was that the man started interrupting your professional analysis to hit on you, and eventually, he reached for your forearm, caressing it as he spoke. And that was exactly when Harvey, the man you’d secretly been dating for about 7 months now, decided to walk into your office. As he entered your office, you yanked your arm out of the man’s grasp but you couldn’t shut him up just as quickly, so your boyfriend got there just in time to hear a “So, if you really like yourself a sturdy stallion,” he pointed at a framed picture of you riding a horse on the wall behind you, “you should ride mine, someday. If you know what I mean,” he finalized with a wink, and how on Earth could you — or anyone hearing that — not know what he meant when he had said it so suggestively? 
“What did you just say to her?” Harvey’s voice came sharply, indicating he was about to get into a fistfight with the man who was probably not going to be your client now.
“Oh, we’re just chatting about- uh, who are you, again?” The shorter guy had the nerve to ask.
After that, Harvey was so quick to hoist the man up from the chair in front of you, by the collar of his dress shirt, that you didn’t even have time to react before he started punching the guy right in the face.
“I’m her boyfriend, that’s who I am! And you will be out of here before I take you out myself.” The man didn’t fall backward solely because Harvey had a hold on him, still, so he just stared at the other attorney in shock. “What are you looking at? Get out!” Harvey shouted once again, tossing the man towards your office door.
After that, you tried calming Harvey down but you barely had any time for it before Jessica and Louis barged into your office, revolted by their partner’s behavior and asking what had gotten into him to attack a prospective client like that.
“The prick was propositioning my-” But you cut him off before he could complete his sentence.
“He was harassing me during the meeting, and Harvey walked in and heard it, and, as a good colleague, he wanted to defend my honor, I guess,” you said with a short, humorless laugh while making air quotes with your fingers.
“A good colleague?” The tall senior partner asked quietly, hurt pooling in his eyes.
“Well… That’s terrible but you know better than to do this, Harvey,” Jessica told him.
“You know, I’d never thought I’d see the day you would act like such a caring gentleman for anyone, Specter,” Louis added, as always, eager to make things worse. “And, (y/n), at the very least you need to reach out to that man and take him out to an apology dinner. Because you are well aware of how important it is for you to get more clients.”
“Yes, I-” You stopped what you were saying mid-sentence because the man you loved was storming out of your office and all you wanted to do was chase after him.
“And now you’re gonna let him get off with that shit he pulled this easy?” Louis shouted, obviously trying to be heard by Harvey too. “I mean, this firm is turning into a complete mess, Jessica! It’s like you can’t control your office anymore! A junior partner who barely has her own clients and a senior partner battering prospective clients? We’re gonna go bankrupt like this, if not sued for malpractice altogether! And-”
“Louis, will you shut up, for God’s sake? I’m the managing partner and I’ll deal with both of them. Now go and let me talk to (y/n) alone!” Your boss responded, making you apprehensive about the conversation you were about to have with her.
As he left the room, Jessica motioned for you to sit on the couch with her. “(y/n), first of all, are you okay? Because if that man did something to you, then…”
“No, no! The harassment was just verbal,” not that that made it any better, you thought to yourself. “Harvey intervened before it could get to that.”
“Right. Well, that’s a relief.” She paused for an instant, giving one of those smiles she used when she was going to convince you of something unpleasant. “Now, as much as it pains me to admit it, Louis is right. You need more clients. I didn’t think it’d be good to tell you this after our conversation but the board has been pressuring me about making personnel cuts. Directed mostly to the partners who aren’t producing much. And you know that I like your work, and see your value to the company but those old men in suits only care about numbers, so if you don’t manage to bring in a new client by the end of the week… I am going to push for you to go after that man’s account again. Using whatever means necessary.” She declared, still sporting that smile. “Are we clear?”
At that, a defeated “Yes, Jessica” was all you could mutter. And then she left. And all you could think about was how you’d somehow managed to screw up both your professional and personal life, all at once.
Leaving work that day, after setting up four meetings with potential clients for the following days, all you could think about was making up with Harvey, so you went to his place to talk. And that’s how you got to the argument you were having now. He was upset about the whole ‘good colleague’ thing and you were upset because you could have handled the situation without burning that bridge with the guy, which was multiplied by ten when you remembered that you were on deadline to get more clients — something you hadn’t told Harvey.
“Making it all about-” He’d started saying angrily but stopped himself and his voice instantly took on a soft, caring tone, “wait, what do you mean you’re going through it all?”
Now you realized what you’d said.
“Uh, I meant nothing. I was just being dramatic, is all,” you stated unconvincingly.
“No, that doesn’t make any sense. If anyone is dramatic in this relationship, it’s me and we both know it,” he said, making you crack a small smile, thinking of how right he was. “So tell me, honey, what’s going on?”
“I, um, I’m being encouraged, or, better said, ordered to expand my client list.” There, you’d said it.
“What? Why?”
“You know why, Harvey. You just can’t be a partner at the firm if you don’t bring enough money in.” You told him, defeated.
“But… but you’re so good! You bring such good attention to the company’s name, your clients might actually be more satisfied with your work than mine, and they are very satisfied with my work,” he said matter-of-factly with a grin on his face.
“Yeah, maybe. But you might not know this because you've always been a man and Jessica’s protégé but for the rest of us, women trying to be successful at Pearson, the bar is just much higher, babe. And they're threatening to take away my partnership, maybe even my job altogether, if I don't get it done,” you finally finished your confession with teary eyes, even though you didn’t want to cry about it.
“That’s… that’s just unacceptable!” He let out, running his hands through his hair, “Did- does Jessica know about that? Because I can-” He tried to go on with his speech but you cut him off.
“She knows, Harvey. She says she likes my work but her hands are tied.” You let him know, sighing a little.
“But… that’s not… that doesn’t make any sense! It’s just not like Jessica to give in like that…” Harvey commented, starting to look defeated as well.
“Maybe when it’s about someone like you. But with me? She might not even be trying all that hard.” To which he responded with a mischievous glint in his eyes, perking up.
“Then, I’ll talk to her! I’ll tell her that, if she doesn’t secure your place in the company, I’m going to start listening to those offers I get all the time!” He said smiling widely this time.
“Harvey! You can’t do that!”
“Why not?”
“Because it’d be incredibly stupid, and unprofessional, and-” You didn’t wanna finish your sentence but you had to. “And, that way, she’ll know.”
“Know?”
“About us. That we’re dating,” you finished sighing again.
“She’ll kn-” he stopped mid-sentence, full of disbelief. “And what’s so wrong with that?”
“Harvey…”
“No, don’t ‘Harvey’ me, (y/n)! If you don’t want me to help because it’d be unprofessional, then that’s okay. I can understand that. But what exactly are you trying to tell me, huh? That our relationship’s never gonna see the light of day? Or are you trying to break up with me?” That last question came out of him in such a low tone you could barely believe had come from him.
“No! Of course I don’t wanna break up-”
“Then tell me what do you want? Because I don’t understand why I can’t tell the world that I’m your boyfriend. I don’t get what’s so wrong about your boyfriend telling off a prick who can’t keep his hands to himself around another man’s woman-”
“Do you seriously think now is a good time to be possessive?”
“Oh, honey, I am possessive by nature. Especially around you,” he stated coming closer to where you were standing. And you could do nothing but welcome his warmth, after all, it’d been a long day.
As you stepped fully into his embrace and rested your head on his chest, you told him “I love you, Harvey. I don’t wanna break up with you. And I want you to tell the world that I’m your girlfriend, even Jessica,” hearing that, his eyes lit up. “But, as much of a prick as that man was, you need to understand that I can handle myself and that you need to give me space to make my own way at work, just like you made yours.”
“You’re right.”
“I know,” you joked, trying to shrug your shoulders at him.
“And I won’t try to interfere at work anymore. But don’t think that I’m just gonna stand around doing nothing if I see someone trying to mess with my girl again.”
“Well, that-”
“I’m not done yet,” he said, silencing you in an instant, “you should also know that, when you’re home with me, you’re mine to take care of.”
“Yeah? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” You asked him with a smug smile.
His only response was swiftly picking you up and taking you to his suite’s bathroom, where he gently sat you down on the edge of the tub, just to start running the hot water into the bath he’d already filled with delicious-smelling bathing salts. “Wait here, baby.”
A bit later he came back carrying some candles he started lighting with one of the matches from a box he had in his other hand.
“What are you doing, Harv?”
“Just come over here,” he said after having spread the candles all throughout his spacious bathroom. They were scented too, you noticed. The second you reached him, though, instead of holding you close, he started taking off your clothes, slow and gentle, piece by piece. Which he followed up with little kisses all over your now bare skin. After being satisfied with his work of making you forget everything, he picked you up again and, this time, carefully dipped you into the bathtub. “Now, you just lay back and relax, darling.”
“You’re not joining me?” You asked him hopefully.
“No, I’m taking care of your dinner,” right after he left, though, one of your favorite songs started playing softly on a speaker he’d set somewhere.
You probably dozed off in that tub, because before you knew it you were being held by your boyfriend in his bed, still completely naked. “Hey.”
“Good morning beautiful,” he greeted you with a grin, “you know, you were taking so long to wake up, that I was starting to think that the breakfast I made you was gonna get cold.”
“Wait a second, last night you were making me dinner and this morning you made me breakfast… two for two! What’s happening to you?” You asked, giggling like a child.
“Nothing, nothing! It’s just… I told you, at home, I take care of you, that’s all.” He told you while he guided you out of the bed, handing you one of his shirts altogether. 
“You know, you keep saying ‘at home’ but this isn’t really our home…” As you put on his dress shirt, you followed him towards his living room. 
“It could be…” And that’s when you saw a set of keys at the dinner table by the cutlery.
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armory-rasa · 9 months ago
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COUCH POUCH!! Free Pattern & Tutorial
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...called thus because they use upholstery-weight leather for the bag body, that in my case was in fact skinned off a couch. 🤣 Turns out they are relatively quick and easy to make, so I tidied up the pattern for printing and took pictures to document the process when I made another five of them.
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First off, print your pattern, 100% scale:
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The bag shape was a modified version of the pattern I used for the Morpheus sandbag, but sized to fit in the roughly 11" squares that my couch skin came in. It makes a bag that sits very well on a tabletop, thanks to the flat base.
Though it turned out to not be the most efficient use of material, because that plus-shaped pattern tessellates well, if you're cutting them out of a full hide, but makes a lot of waste when you're cutting them out of squares of material. A more efficient design would have a half-rounded front and back, and a gusset between them, like so:
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Ah well. It's not like I have any shortage of couch skin, though for the next round I'm going to experiment with a more efficient pattern.
First step, trace and cut out the bag body from your chrome-tan leather:
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Like I said, this was upholstery leather, but anything that's flexible and ~1.5 mm thick will do.
The flap and front need to be a stiffer leather though -- I used 7 oz latigo, but veg-tan would work equally well. (And then you could ✨tool it!✨)
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Cut them out, and then use the pattern to mark where your holes are going to be. Mark the holes on your bag body too:
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The latigo pieces get hand-stitched to the bag body, so I used a stitching groover to carve out little channels for the thread -- it's not strictly necessary, but it makes your stitches lay a lot more neatly:
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Punch the holes shown below:
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I used a ~5 mm hole punch for those, and a 1.5" slot punch for the belt loops. Some of the holes on the front piece you're not punching yet, because they need to go through both layers.
I put a dab of contact cement on the pieces (circled in white) to help hold them in place when I go to punch the stitching holes:
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(Make sure you're not putting glue between the belt loops)
Wait fifteen minutes for the contact cement to dry until tacky, and then line up the holes and the edges and press the pieces together:
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Punch stitching holes:
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Saddle-stitch both pieces in place (takes 28" of thread per):
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Now you can punch these holes:
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(I used a slightly smaller hole punch than for the others, but it doesn't really matter.)
Now press the right sides of the leather together and sew up the seams from the inside:
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A regular sewing machine should be able to handle this, though you will need thicker thread, a heavy-duty leather-sewing needle, and a walking foot attachment. (If you don't have a walking foot attachment, it is SO WORTH getting one, even if you don't expect to sew much leather. Seriously, I use it for everything -- once you go walking foot, you don't go back. 💀) Because you can't pin leather without leaving permanent holes in it, tiny binder clips can be helpful for keeping your material lined up.
What they look like when you're finished sewing:
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Cut 19" of lacing for the drawstring, and 11" of lacing for the toggle:
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I use the 1/8" EcoSoft lace from Tandy, I think it's stronger than real leather would be at that thickness. The only important factor here is that you need something with a bit of texture and friction -- a silk cord isn't going to stay closed, it's going to slip open.
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MANY BAGS.
For these I used a wooden toggle -- cut another 8" of lacing, looped it through the toggle twice, and then made a tight square knot on the back:
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But another option is putting a concho or a large button on the flap. The bag I copied this design from, in fact, uses a concho toggle:
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Thread some beads on the laces to keep the ends from getting lost, and you are DONE! 😁
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Happy Bagging!
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