#why did this idea come to me i have no idea

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

(Answer this after watching Chapter 4)

I NEED an X Reader where Reader comforts Doey after he's first frozen, or maybe one where Reader literally smacks some sense into Doey after the Safe Haven blows up(and we need the refugees to escape PLEASE-)

"Oh, it's you! Is the Doctor...?"

"No. Not yet. I'm working on it." You shook your head, looking apologetically at the doughy toy that had recently become one of your allies.

Even though you were just halfway through your trip through "No Man's Land", you're relieved that you didn't have to worry about Yarnaby following you around. You could have certainly used Doey's help beforehand, but he did save you from Pianosaurus at a critical moment where you thought it was truly the end for you.

Besides that, you were used to dealing with things on your own.

You sent Huggy into a pitfall, killed Mommy Long Legs, and set Catnap and Yarnaby ablaze without really anyone's assistance.

Killing the Doctor, on the other hand, was going to be a very different challenge. He wasn't some Bigger Body with flaws you could exploit--he was cruel, calculating, and wanted to prey on your fear and reasons for coming back to this factory.

Not to mention the Prototype, who was working with the mastermind behind the experiments for reasons still unclear to you. But the "why" wasn't important to you right now--letting this place burn down is what mattered most.

Doey was rather opposed to the idea of setting explosives in the foundation, although after everything you've seen (and knowing him and Poppy have probably seen things ten times worse), you were on board with the plan.

Because what was the alternative?

Letting all these toys starve and cannibalize each other? Waiting for some other poor soul like yourself to come here and die? Allowing the Prototype to have his way?

Absolutely not.

First things first..you had to find the omni hand for your grabpack, knowing it would give you greater access to the facility's systems. Apparently the Doctor had it under lock and key, meaning you had to take him out of commission before you could reach it.

At some point in your mission, you came across Doey again, who was inspecting a pipe. You felt a little bad for disappointing him when you said the Doctor wasn't dead yet, although he must have known it was going to take you some time.

But who could blame him? Him and the others have waited years and years for an opportunity like this. For someone like you to come along and save them.

He couldn't be at fault for being so eager.

"I figured as much." He sighed, smiling at you as he turned away from the pipe. "I've been here gathering parts for the generator."

"Really? Where's all the.....oh." You stopped yourself upon seeing him holding his stomach and giggling. "Right."

"Yup! LOTS of--ah!"

Without any warning, the pipe burst open with loud hiss and began spraying a cloud of cold gas directly onto him. Upon contact with his body, he became frozen solid.

You stood there in shock for a moment, before remembering that dough didn't mix well with the cold, and you panicked as you looked for a way to stop the flow of gas.

Then you looked up to see a switch, using one of your grabpack hands to turn the handle. Fortunately that seemed to do the trick, as the cloud dissipated almost instantly, allowing Doey to thaw out rather fast.

Despite your quick actions, he seemed thoroughly shaken, his eyes wide and his yellow arm stretched out, dragging it behind him as he quickly huddled into the nearest corner of the rooms.

"Hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts, HURTS!!!" He cried out, his arm morphing back into its usual shape as he tries taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

You frowned slightly and approached him, ignoring the opening doors for the moment. "Doey, are you okay?"

"N-No. He's made it impossible for me to get around here!" He snapped at you. "Traps like this are everywhere!"

His voice sounded different--with a lot more aggression to it, and so you kept your distance, feeling yourself growing tense.

You had to remember that no matter how innocent or kind these toys appeared to be...they were traumatized and obviously not of sound mind. They could turn on you at the drop of a hat.

Either that, or they're simply animals with unpredictable behaviors.

But you knew Doey wasn't some animal. He was an ally, someone you had learned to trust.

Your gut says that you seriously shouldn't, considering how trusting Mommy almost got you eaten alive, and trusting Poppy led to her redirecting the train and dragging you further into this mess.

But once you saw things from her point of view, you've come to realize that this wasn't something you could just walk away from.

How could you go on with life knowing all of this was happening beneath your feet? Especially now that she believes you were the only person who could help everyone who's suffered here--or at least whoever's left.

She put a lot of faith in you, and you couldn't let her down.

Although she definitely wanted you to hurry, you had to at least take the time to make sure Doey was okay after that trap was set off.

"It's the cold that hurts....th-the big mean Doctor knows that.." He sniffled, now sounding on the verge of tears as he hugged himself.

"And that's why I'm gonna stop him." You promised. "I'm gonna find whatever's left of that prick and destroy him. Once and for all."

"...I-I know. You can go on ahead. I'll..I'll be okay...I'll be okay..."

Despite what he says, you knew he very much wasn't okay just yet.

Then you had an idea.

"I know you will be. But first..."

The clay creature looked at you, seeing you open your arms up, the grabpack's mechanisms down at your sides. "Can I get a hug for the road, big guy?"

Doey sniffled again, at first hesitant to respond, but seeing your sweet attitude and the hope written on your face brought a smile back to his own features.

He nodded and hugged you tightly, squishing you against him and lifting you off the ground a few feet.

The smells of clay and dough were overwhelming, but they're a lot better than the other...ghastly scents you've somehow grown desensitized to.

"Of course you can, buddy!" He laughed. "You'll need it!" After a few moments, he set you down and checked to make sure he didn't leave any residue on you or your grabpack. "Thank you. That...made me feel a lot better."

"I'm glad. I feel better, too." You chuckled, adjusting the straps before making your way further into No Man's Land, praying that you'd make it to the Doctor's hideout and back to the Safe Haven alive.

They were all counting on you.

You couldn't fail.

Not after everything you've been through.

[lorddeathofmurdermountain]

I'm sure nobody needs me to specify my agreement that women DID have a hard time in the world of art in general (bit of an understatement, huh?), but I'd like to focus on today.

Men get to go in the woods - in reference to the tags - I'm sure. Women... Still kind of don't. Mostly because something as isolationist as that is only really permitted to men. As a man, I'm comfortable acknowledging this even as my own situation doesn't support that idea. It's not hard to see the common sentiment. However, I want to examine the inverse; not for causation, but just to point out some correlation.

So. Men get to go into the woods. Why? Because it's generally accepted that the only way men are allowed to deal with difficult emotions is to brood silently. We can't cry, we can only really get angry in very specific, socially acceptable situations - usually an imminent issue rather than a long-term effect of something - and we most definitely can't open up, not unless it's to someone extraordinary or, once again, in the very few socially acceptable instances where a man gets to open up.

Women are more or less the opposite. They're encouraged to always, eh, "unburden" themselves from feeling bad by sharing their plight. Women also regularly get to explode in anger, or cry, or even throw a tantrum and largely even other women can't or won't comment negatively on this (at least not openly) and while I won't pretend to understand how the life of a woman works, we have enough resources to see how the differences in the way we're allowed to handle our emotions affect our daily lives. From trans people encountering social issues from a sudden shift in expectations (in either direction, mind you) to regular clashes born from being used to different methods and/or expectations of problem-solving, a lot of the reasons of why things are the way they are come down to the stigmatization of the other gender and forcing people into nest, rigid little boxes that don't really make sense at all - unless, of course, you were taught to put them there from the start.

I hate the “Thoreau’s mom did his laundry” criticism so much, it drives me crazy.

Henry Thoreau did not go to Walden Pond because he thought it would be a fun adventure. He went into the woods because he was deeply depressed and burnt out. He was running from the horror of his brother and best friend recently dying in his arms, and the haunting memory of causing the Fairhaven Bay fire. His friend Ellery Channing literally gave him the ultimatum of either taking some time off to write and think, or else be institutionalized.

I think Thoreau’s mother saw her depressed son choosing to retreat into a small cabin in the woods, and was worried about him. Of course she did his laundry - just as Ralph Waldo Emerson probably brought him firewood and bread. These were not chores of obligation to support a “great” man, but services of love to help their deeply depressed 28yo son and friend.

And if you ask me, there’s a lesson in that - to “suck out the marrow of life” and “live deliberately,” one must also accept help offered from the people in your life who love you. There is no true transcendentalism or individualism without love and friendship behind it.

[angstywaifu]

No Strings Attached - Garrick Tavis

Request: reader is fwb with Garrick you could even include some spice and they start to fall for each other but they’re not exclusive so one night she sees him talking to another girl and she feels extremely hurt seeing it. then she decides to ice him out and branch out to hang out with other people and he sees her talk to another guy and gets really jealous and feels very possessive. and then they get into a massive angsty fight Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Unprotected Sex (P in V). Angst and fighting. Jealousy.

Masterlist | Support Me

“Cmon sweetheart, just one more. For me.” Garrick whispers in my ear as his fingers dig into my hips as he guides me up and down on his length.

As per usual, Garrick was determined to get another one out of me. This would be the fourth? No, fifth? Fuck, I had no idea. My brain all foggy from the amount of times he’d pulled another orgasm from me. He was addicted to pulling them from me, and I was addicted to the way he made me felt.

The familiar knot in my stomach tightens again as I dig my nails into his shoulder as my lead lulls forward. Garrick notices the shift, grabbing tightly onto my waist as he holds me up, slamming his hips into mine hard and fast. I barely had time to process what was coming as I shatter in his arms, my whole weight resting in Garrick’s hands as I go limp. Eyes rolling back into my head, mouth open in a silent moan as my legs tremble either side of his. I feel Garrick shudder beneath me, his thrusts faltering as he comes undone beneath me.

He gathers me in his arms rolling us to the side as he lays my head down on my pillow, whimpering at the loss of him as he removes himself from me. I barely register him cleaning me up and tucking me into bed as I fall victim to my exhaustion and fall asleep.

The next day it’s back to normal. Everyone none the wiser to how Garrick and I had spent most of our night as we walk the halls the next day. Which is how I wanted it. Garrick and I were just friends. Friends who hooked up a few times a week. An arrangement that worked for both of us since it had started last year. No strings attached, no feelings and no exclusivity. Though neither of us had hooked up with anyone else despite this.

”Quinn and I are having a girls night in her room, did you want to come?” Imogen asks me as we leave the gym, both of us in desperate need of a shower after the training session we had just done.

I turn my head to look at her and tell her I’m in, but two figures behind her across the courtyard near the Rotunda catch my eyes. Imogen turns to look, both of us watching Garrick as he leans up against the wall talking to girl in second wing. I watch as he raises a hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. I don’t miss the way she tips her head downwards slightly, and I’d bet any money she’s blushing. I instantly see red. Wanting to march over there and pull her away from him, tell her to stay away. I shouldn’t feel like this. I shouldn’t want to do that. We were just friends. Friends who slept together. Nothing more. Why the hell did I feel like this?

”Sorry, I’ve got plans.” I tell her in the most monotone voice I’ve heard leave my lips as I turn and make my way to the dorms.

Another year done and over. Thank god. I’d been craving a drink since seeing Garrick talking to that girl two weeks ago. Since then I’d been avoiding him, which was pretty easy considering we’d all been sent away for War Games for five days and we were in different Wings. But since that night I’d opted to hanging out with my squad, mainly Imogen and Quinn. Something I knew Garrick had noticed as Imogen had told me Garrick had asked about me after I’d walked off when he’d approached our group at challenges. Even now I can feel his eyes on me across the room. It was not like me to ignore him like this, but I honestly couldn’t trust me feelings.

Movement next to me pulls me from my thoughts, one of the first year repeats sitting next to me. I remembered him from the start of the year. The scattering of freckles across his face had always stood out to me. He’d been apart of our squad till he hadn’t been chosen at Threshing. Which was a shame, from what Quinn and Imogen had told me he was one of the best in our squad.

”How was war games?” He asks me as he fills up his cup from one of the pitchers from the middle of the table.

”Tiring as usual. There’s only one time of year I will ever have thoughts on wanting to be back here, and that’s war games.” I tell him with a smile as he fills up my now empty cup.

We fall into conversation easily, laughing and telling stories and jokes. Something I had missed during the last week. And it was nice to be talking to someone new. Something to take my mind off what had happened. Though it’s not long before my mind wanders back as a tall looming figure hovers behind me, casting a shadow over me and onto the cadet I now know as Sawyer. I watch as his eyes widen as he looks behind me. A look I associated very well with Garrick.

”We need to talk.” He growls out from behind me.

I can practically feel the anger rolling off him against my back. I can see how worried Sawyer looks. Yeah, he was pissed.

”What do you want to talk about?” I toss over my shoulder before chugging the rest of my drink, definitely needing more alcohol in my system to deal with whatever was about to happen.

”In private.”

I turn and look at him. Yep. He was pissed. His eyes are narrowed at me, his jaw ticking from the strain of clenching it. Great. I tear my gaze from his, standing and pushing past him as I head towards the door, leaving Sawyer behind. I push through the door leading into the rotunda, barely making it a few steps before Garrick grabs my arm.

”What the hell was that?” He snaps, gesturing back towards the dining hall.

”Really? I could be asking you the same about you and the cadet a few weeks back in the courtyard.” I snap back as I gesture towards the door leading towards the courtyard.

His brow furrows as he looks towards where I point. “What are you talking about?”

Anger flares with in me. “That blonde who you had in the courtyard a few nights before War Games started. Tucking her hair behind her ear as she blushed and giggled at you.”

”So that’s why you’ve been ignoring me.” He drawls in a monotone voice.

”I haven’t been ignoring you. We’ve been away at War Games if you hadn’t noticed.” I retort as I walk a few steps away, needing to clear my head of the anger that was raging through me.

”Says the one who has walked away whenever I’ve joined the group and has been mysteriously absent from my bed.” He states as he walks over and steps in front of me.

”What do you want Garrick? Want me to confess that even though this isn’t technically exclusive that I’m a little jealous you start showing interest in another girl for the first time since this started happening? That maybe I realised I need to put some space between us and put effort into my other friends or find some new ones?” My voice echoing around the empty rotunda as I glare up at him.

”Please he didn’t want to be your friend.” He scoffs at me.

”Well I wouldn’t know because you couldn’t resist playing possessive guard dog after I start talking to a guy that isn’t you!” My voice cracks at the end, a tear rolling down my cheek that Garrick’s hazel eyes track.

”Trust me, there’s only one things guys want from girls in here.” Garrick looming over me as he takes a step towards me.

I scoff and shake my head at me. “Yeah, I’m starting to see that. Hope she can warm your bed till she also figures that out.”

”Sweethe-”

”Don’t. You don’t get to call me that anymore.” I snap at him before turning and storming back into the rowdy dining hall, wiping away another tear that rolls down my cheek.

[rayraelleaizawa]

They're going hard on you

TW: none i think

gn!reader

Short stories of when OP men go hard on you out of worry

Characters: Shanks, Trafalgar Law

Shanks

You sat in the captains office and looked at Shanks who was unusally quiet. You had an anxious feeling in your guts. You knew you had fucked up, but you didnt think he would be that mad.

The red hair pirates docked at some uninhabited island, and you were assigned to not leave the ship since Shanks wasnt sure how dangerous the island would be. But when you saw a strange animal falling from a tree and into a river, trying desperately not to drown and reach the shore again but couldnt make it, you left the ship and jumped into the river and helped the animal out of there. The scared animal didnt realice you only wanted to help him, and trashed around in your grip and scratched and bit you.

When Shanks and a part of his crew came back from exploring the island, and he saw that you were standing on deck, soaked from head to toe and trying to clean up your bloody injuries, his usually carefree face fell. He wore an unreadable expression as he told you to come into his cabin when Hongo was done treating your wounds.

Now, half an hour later and bandaged up, you sat in Shanks office and looked at your lap. He still had that unreadable expression on his face and you werent sure in what kind of trouble you were right now. You had breaken the rules before, nothing too bad, but he never acted like that because of you. You thought that he'd understand why you left, everyone knew that you had a soft spot for animals.

You anxiously waited for him to start talking, but he didnt even look at you. After another silent ten minutes, he finally said something.

"What did Hongo say?"

"He said that it is nothing too bad, just some scratches. I need to go check up regulary tho in case of infection and if I feel weird I am supposed to go to him instantly. Hongo checks the books right now if the animal that bit me is poisenous or not."

You gladly would have left out the last part, but you knew you shouldnt do that right now. He would talk with Hongo and find out anyway.

There was another short silence before he spoke again.

"What did I tell you to do? No, what did I order you to do?"

"To stay on the ship" you quietly said.

"And what did you do?"

"I...left the ship."

"You disobeyed my orders. That's what you did. No matter what relationship we two have, I am your captain and you have to follow my orders like everyone else on this ship."

You were quiet for some time. You didnt mean to disappoint him, but you didnt think about his orders when you saw that helpless animal fighting for its life.

"I'm sorry. I only wanted to help the-"

"I dont care what you wanted to do. You had clear orders. Orders, which were meant to protect you. Protect you from exactly those animals that hurt you. We have no idea if they are venomous, or aggresive, or a religious species for any natives that live here."

You stayed silent. The uneasy feeling in your stomach growing by the second. Sadness and fear joined that feeling too. You thought he'd understand you, but in the end you just disrespected him infront of his crew with ignoring his orders.

"I'm sorry for messing up" was all you could get out in that moment, and you heard Shanks sigh. He stood up from behind his desk and walked over to you.

"What am I supposed to do with you? Even when i try to protect you you still seem to find a way to end up in Hongos medical office. Why cant you just listen to me?"

His tone was softer than before, and you finally dared to look up at him. He had a worried expression on his face.

"I- I didnt think in that moment" you admitted as he bend his tall frame down to you, looking at your bandaged hand where that animal bit you.

"You have no idea how it felt to see you all bloody on deck. How it feels to know that you could die if that animal was highly venomous" he said, gently touching your arm.

You avoided his eyes and looked at the stump of his left arm.

"Yes I do know how that feels. I didnt want to make you experience this too. I'm sorry."

He sighed again, moving his hand under your chin and forced you gently to look him in the face.

"Never do that again. I love you too much for that."

Trafalgar D Water Law

You didn't look at him as he walked past you. You both ignored each other since the argument you had. You felt frustrated and angry at him, but mostly because he was right.

There was an emergency at the submarine, something about the boiler malfunctioning in the middle of the night. You were the closest to it so you tried to fix it, but you werent an engineer - you weren't sure what to do so you just improvised and tried your best until the persons who knew what to do came. Before that happened, hot water splashed onto your arm leaving a nasty burn on it.

Law had bandaged you up, but you noticed something wasn't right with him so you asked him. Which resulted in a heated argument between you two which ended with him snapping at you.

"If you have no idea of something then why do you even try? You're no help here, we just have more work now because of you."

Your eyes got teary when you thought back to his words, but it hurts even more knowing he was right. He had more work because he had to bandage you up, while your crewmembers probably had to fix the boiler more because you damaged it even more with your improvised actions.

You self doubted your worth on this crew now. Sure, you knew how to fight, but that was it. You could bandage up small injuries and cook, but in the end everyone knew how to do that. You had no specialty like the others.

With frustration bubbling up inside you that your captain and lover thought of you as an useless inconvinience, you started working even more. You didn't take a break, you just cleaned the Polar Tank or trained. The burn on your arm hurt most of the time, but you didn't care. You wanted to prove yourself that you weren't just on this crew because you and the Captain were dating.

You asked Shachi if he could explain to you how the boiler and stuff worked. He was perplexed as why you wanted to know that, but you convinced him with saying that next time an emergency happend you could actually help. He agreed, tho he knew that Law wouldn't be so happy about you working when you're already injured.

He explained stuff to you in the engine room and of course, no other than Trafalgar D. Water Law walked in on you two while you were trying to name some parts of the enginge. He looked displeased and coldly said your name and then just walked off.

You didn't want to follow him, but knew that he would be even more pissed if you ignored him. He led you two to the infirmary and told you to sit on the exam table. He then grabbed your hand and unwrapped your bandanges.

"What do you think you're doing, y/n-ya?" he spoke calmly, but you immediately noticed that he was holding back.

"Learning new stuff so next time i can actually help" you answered in a snippy tone.

"You won't do anything next time. I don't allow you to" he said while turning around.

You started to argue back that you just tried to be a help when he interupted you mid-sentence.

"How do you want to be of help when you cant even look after your own wound!"

"You were the one who told me I wasnt capable of anything, and now it's wrong when i try to become usefull!" you almost yelled back, tears of frustration and hurt in your voice.

"I never said you weren't capable of anything, I simply stated that-"

"You said I am no help, that I have no idea what I'm doing and that you all have more work because of me!"

A tear rolled down your face and you started shaking slightly as Law looked at you with widend eyes. He grabbed his hat and pulled it over his eyes as he looked down.

"That wasn't what I meant. I just...you got hurt on my submarine while I was present. I- you shouldn't have gotten hurt when I'm there to protect you."

You looked at him with wide eyes, the tears now streaming down your face.

"You are more than capable of sorting stuff out on your own, you are a big help to everyone on this crew. I didn't mean to insult you or tell you you aren't worthy to be here. It's just...this could have ended up bad. And now I see you working in there again. I can't have you getting injured when I'm just a few feet away" he added as he walked towards you and grabbed your face so you'd look him in the eye.

"I want you to be safe, y/n-ya. And i failed to do that. You and this crew, you're everything I have. I'm a doctor but I can't heal everything. I'm sorry for insulting you, my heart."

Your eyes softend at the last nickname he called you. It wasn't often that he used it, which made it even more special when he did. He is a big softy and constantly worried about you. You laid your head to his chest and murmured an apology, while he leaned down and kissed your hair.

[cyborgartalchemist2]

Need to point some queer rage at something, white cishet persecution kink it is.

I absolutely despise this kind of cishet nonsense. And here's why-

White cishets recognize that being different is an automatic point against the rest of society. They know that marginalized groups are disqualified by the oppressors for the most basic of human experiences like finding love.

But they stop at that.

Because instead of letting that information strike a nerve they see 'a thrilling experience' to write/read about. The forbidden romance. A star crossed love doomed to be denied by all around the lovers. But, instead of including some form of marginalization like... one of them having a different skin color, being transgender, or disabled and considered incapable( incorrect) of fulfilling their half of the relationship, one of the lovers is a different species(still white and nearly human, think twilight or acotar) or this kind of rubbish where the only disqualifier for their relationship is that doctor/patient is frowned upon and can have power imbalances... not sure if it goes against the hypocratic oath, but it does have the possibility for damaging reputations..

Why make up these ridiculous reasons for a romance to be forbidden instead of taking from the laundry list of actual reasons a couple might experience aggression and refusal of acceptance?

Because they want the drama, pain, and angst that comes with marginalized romances without losing their privilege. They want "I love you, even though I know I shouldn't." But they want it without having to dismantle their own prejudices or do any work to understand that the reasons that make some romances forbidden are wrong and harmful. They don't want to admit that society is full of bigotry and prejudice, they just want dramatic romances where against all odds, the lovers come together.

I know white women who write these are often disadvantaged by being ciswomen, but it doesn't erase the fact they make up arbitrary and downright ridiculous barriers for their white het romances. It's an insult more than anything. It's someone saying "I recognize that some love is denied by the systems of power in place, but instead of accepting that I can do something about it by discussibg it, I'm going to appropriate the energy and flavor that comes with forbidden romances but with completely normal and acceptable members of society who would never experience this kind of denial. Simply because I want to read something dramatic without feeling guilty or being confronted with my own privilege."

And don't get me started on those made up slurs... like... balleraggot is disgusting. Tell me you don't understand the creation and use of slurs without telling me. Honestly... where did 'gonna make slurs that are ripped off of real and truly harmful slurs' sound like an even remotely good idea?

[micahulrichdraws]

I come in peace! I don’t wanna try to convince you to take commissions! But I am curious about why you’re so strongly against them, did you have a bad experience working on one? Anyway, love your stuff, your tarot designs go so hard

Thanks for the love!! The reason isn't a bad experience or some such, it's 19 years of being a professional artist and knowing the field!

TLDR: I'm a traditional pen and ink illustrator, so it's not financially viable or creatively fulfilling.

I'm always down to talk art business, so here's a brief breakdown wall of text:

On the financial side, commission designs are almost always done at a net loss/break even for the artist, and I'm no exception. They're alright for starting out, or if you're looking to incorporate them into your marketing (IE: doing a poster design for a band to gain exposure), but typically they're roughly half the cash-per-hour for any established artist VS making an original design, and creating a print run of it.

Example: while tons of folks would look at someone charging $1k USD for a commission and think that it would be crazy cash, once you break down the math, it's pretty bad. An average design for me takes on average 30-40 hours, and that's because I don't have to communicate with anyone else. I'm just drawin' my idea. Assuming this is a dream client who has the mind-meld with me, wire transfers the $1k straight into my bank account the second it's done, that's roughly $25/hr. Once again - this looks *great*, that's around $50k/yr from drawing custom stuff! But that's not how it works. First of all, most folks would lose their *minds* at paying $1k for a commission - over the years I graphed it out, and back when I was a less-established artist, most folks would start with a budget of $100, have their limits pushed at $300, and outright refuse $500. You have to sift through all of those folks in order to get that reasonable commission. That includes folks who aren't willing to commit to a commission, don't want to say no to the price, but will still take up your time. Roughly, for me at least, 10 hours a week of it. You'll also have to run collections on roughly 20% of your customers - they may pay the deposit, but you'll have to chase them for the final payment. Even if you take the payment *in advance* you'll end up having to chase them down/get ghosted. So, realistically: you end up taking the $500, for *at least* 50 hours of work. On average, it clocked in closer to 65-70. $7.14 an hour. That's less than a third living wage and less than minimum wage. You cannot grow an art practice while actively starving. It's easier to make a design, sell it/license it/etc. to make more cash without losing your mind.

That said - After 2020, I reached a point in my career that when I take on custom work, it's typically from a larger brand with a larger scope and larger budget, ranging anywhere from $5k-$30k. That said - these businesses are typically ones that understand the industry and are far less of a headache to work with than individuals, and will give several months worth of work at a time at a living wage.

On the creative side, I enjoy making my own designs and work as opposed to other folks. I have a ton of drawings and projects I'd rather work on and share with folks of my own that are infinitely more fun than the 200th identical commission request (a biblically accurate angel that also is the grim reaper that is also Baldur's Gate 3 thirstraps/Dark Souls fan art/primarchs because Y'ALL AIN'T CREATIVE BUT MY ASTARION X SANGUINIUS SHIP CAME FIRST.) Also, most of the fun of my career is knowing as many folks as possible get to enjoy my art junk. I'd rather go through a few extra hoops and have thousands of folks see my stuff vs something only one other person gets to see.

If you made it this far, congrats, here is my favorite image I have saved in my camera roll:

[mulloey]

distracted

bad students must face the consequences of their behaviour. it doesn’t matter who your boyfriend is.

words: 2.9k

part of my february festival event

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warnings: dom!professors matz x sub!student reader, teacher-student relationship (hongjoong x you), power dynamics, threesome, punishment, spanking with ruler, very light anal play, face fucking, double penetration (mouth & pussy), under-negotiated kink, unprotected sex, sir kink, degradation, light dumbification etc

i am not responsible for the content you consume.

“What is this?”

He waves the sheet in front of your face indignantly and you recognise it instantly as the test you’d taken last week; the red D scrawled in the top corner gives you away and you huff. “How did you even—”

“Seonghwa,” he says, cutting you off. You’d roll your eyes if you thought you’d get away with it right now.

You knew it was a bad idea, really, dating Hongjoong; he may not have been your professor, but he is a professor, so you should’ve figured he’d be in cahoots with your teachers. It’s not like discretion was a massive concern, anyway; your relationship is an open secret among the staff. It’s technically not allowed, but you’re a grad student, an independent adult and your parents donate enough money to the school that neither of you would be in too much trouble if anyone did find out anyway. So you suppose you shouldn’t be surprised that, when you turned in a piss-poor exam, Seonghwa had run off tattling to your boyfriend. Dickhead.

“I was just having a bad day,” you say. “I studied, really. I don't know what happened.”

Neither of you believe that, but you push your lips into a pout and do your best to look contrite—to play the sweet, innocent girl your boyfriend loves to ruin.

“Joong…” You try to sound scared but you both know you’re not; there’s nothing he could do to you that you wouldn’t enjoy, after all. You’re just as sick as each other.

Hongjoong chuckles, clicking his tongue. He looks thoughtful for a moment, like he’s pretending to be conflicted over whether to punish you or not, but he’s not very good at hiding his excitement. The regretful sigh he lets out when he makes his decision is laughably disingenuous. “Bad girl,” he says, shaking his head. “You know I can’t let you get away with this, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth to respond but he doesn’t give you time; he shoves you down harshly, bending you over his desk so your ass is sticking up in the air. It’s a familiar position that you’ve found yourself in time and time again since you met him and you body prepares itself automatically; expecting him to spank you, you stick your ass up higher and wait with bated breath for the first blow. It doesn’t come. You crane your head around, confused. “Joong, what—” Oh.

You don’t need to finish the question; standing behind you, next to Hongjoong, is the very man who’d got you in this predicament in the first place— your medieval history professor, Park Seonghwa himself. He tilts his head, smiling sweetly. “Good afternoon.”

Your jaw drops. You hadn’t expected this—when did he even come in, anyway? “Joong—”

“You think we didn’t notice how you look at him?” Your boyfriend asks coolly. It’s only because of the cock in his hand, hard and already leaking, that you’re not worried he’s mad at you; no, he loves this. You should’ve known.

“Is that why you failed?” Seonghwa asks. “Too busy dreaming about me bending you over your desk? You have a boyfriend; an esteemed colleague of mine, in fact.” His tone is chiding and you feel yourself flush.

Hongjoong snorts almost petulantly. “As if she cares about that.”

“No?” Seonghwa asks. “What does she care about, then?”

“Pull her panties down and find out.”

Your cunt throbs painfully at the surety of the demand and the dark look in Seonghwa’s eyes as he obliges without hesitation. He doesn’t ask permission before he touches you—he already has it from the one who matters, after all—but when he pushes your skirt up your back, his hands still momentarily; you smile into the wood as you realise what they’re both looking at—the white, lacy panties sitting snugly across your pert cheeks.

“Well, isn’t that a sight.” Seonghwa’s voice is hoarse and affected as he rubs a hand across the delicate material. You feel yourself tense under his touch, the unfamiliar feeling of his skin on yours, and he gently pinches the soft flesh. “Relax,” he mumbles. “Be good, yeah? I won’t hurt you, I’ll be gentle.”

A sweet sounding lie; you can tell from the heaviness of his hand as it comes to rest on your ass that he has no such intentions. He fingers softly at the lace of your panties, sighing ruefully. “These really are beautiful,” he muses. “I hate to have to take them down like this, but bad students have to learn, don’t they?”

“They certainly do.” You crane your neck to follow your boyfriend’s voice and find him leaning against the wall behind Seonghwa, staring you down with familiarly cold eyes. He cocks an eyebrow when you finally catch his gaze. “Got something to say, precious?”

“No, sir,” you whisper.

“Turn around, then,” he smiles. “I’m just here to watch.”

You turn back, though more so he doesn’t see you roll your eyes than out of a desire to obey him. Seonghwa has carefully shimmied your panties down to the middle of your thighs and the cold air of the office bites at your sensitive pussy.

“Spread your legs,” he says. “Show me how wet you are.“

Blushing furiously, you part your legs, spreading them as far as you can without snapping the panties bunched around your thighs. Seonghwa hums, running a long finger through your wet folds. The touch is unexpected but Hongjoong’s trained you well enough that you manage to stay still despite your surprise. You whine a little when he pulls away and you hear both men chuckle.

“Professor Kim,” Seonghwa says. His voice has a new quality; delicate and flirtatious as he addresses your boyfriend. “Come and taste how wet she is.”

You hear Hongjoong approach the elder and try to move around to see it, but Seonghwa’s firm hand on your neck holds you still. “I don’t think so, bad girl,” he tuts. “Only good little girls get to watch. Keep still.”

“Good call,” Hongjoong purrs. “She’s always loved seeing me with other people. Little pervert would probably start humping the table if she saw me doing this.”

You hear the wet, lewd sounds of Hongjoong sucking at Seonghwa’s finger, lapping up your juices with a noise of pleasure. “Delicious little slut,” he chuckles. “Let’s get her properly disciplined so we can play with her how she wants.”

Somehow you hear the wide grin in Seonghwa’s voice as Hongjoong backs away. “I quite agree.”

His hands rests on your ass again, squeezing it softly. “This is what’s gonna happen, little one. You got a 48 on my exam, didn’t you?”

You’re almost embarrassed to hear the number and you know Hongjoong is too. “Yes,” you whisper.

“Yes, Professor will do,” he says. “You’re not my friend, sweetheart. You’re just a wayward student being put back on the right path.”

Shame courses through you but it would be a lie to say it’s anything but thrilling. “Yes, professor,” you whisper.

He taps your ass appreciatively. “Good girl. So, you got a 48 on my exam. What was the pass mark?”

“60, Professor,” you mumble.

“Now that’s not very hard to achieve, is it Professor Kim?”

“It’s not. The pass marks in my class are higher, in fact.”

You want to roll your eyes at their smug, jovial tones but you’re too aroused now to do anything but anticipate.

“A pathetic score, really.” Seonghwa’s voice is closer than ever and you feel his presence just inches away. “Especially for such a bright young woman. I think you need to learn to separate your head—” he gathers a piece of your hair, gently folding it behind your ear “—and your pussy, hm?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Good.“ Something long and thin taps at your bare skin and you recognise it instantly—the wooden ruler Hongjoong keeps in his desk drawer for when he’s feeling particularly on-the-nose about the taboo nature of your relationship.

“I’m going to hit you with this twelve times,” Seonghwa purrs. “For each of the marks you easily could have gotten if you hadn’t been too busy imagining my cock in your mouth. Yeah?”

You nod, feeling yourself pulse. “Yes, Professor.”

“Repeat after me, alright?” The first hit is quick and sharp, spread over your ass and it makes you gasp. Seonghwa chuckles and rubs the reddening flesh before he grabs your hair, yanking your head back to whisper in your ear. “One,” he says. “I’m sorry for being such a slut, Professor.”

You repeat it quietly and he tuts. “Louder than that, love. I’m sure your boyfriend wants to know you’re learning your lesson.”

You oblige, repeating it louder and he makes a noise of satisfaction before the ruler comes down again, this time at the tops of your thighs. “Two,” he says. “I’m sorry for thinking with my pussy instead of my head.”

“Two, I’m… I’m sorry for thinking with my pussy instead of my head.”

The next hit lands in the same spot. “Three. I’m sorry for dripping over Professor Kim’s desk just from being spanked.”

You blush in embarrassment; you’d half hoped he wouldn’t notice, but that was a tall order anyway. When it comes to Hongjoong and anything to do with him, you’ve never been subtle.

The next hits follow the same pattern, spread across your ass and thighs with each one making you gasp louder than the last.

“Four. I’m sorry for making Professor Park waste his time disciplining me.”

“Five. I’m sorry for daydreaming about choking on another man’s cock.”

“Six. I’m sorry for being arrogant enough to think I’d get away with such an embarrassing performance.”

The last one hits you right on your dripping pussy, making you scream and he grabs your hair, spinning you around to face him and your boyfriend; your eyes hone in on Hongjoong’s cock, pulsing in his hands before Seonghwa forces your attention back to him. “Twelve,” he growls. “I’m sorry for being such a cockwhore that I’m making Professor Park break his rule about sleeping with students.”

You can’t help but grin as you repeat his words, feeling proud. Of course, you knew from the moment you turned around and saw him standing there what was going to happen, but it’s nice to hear it from him. He smiles, grasping your neck gently. “Did you like that?” He asks. “Getting spanked by your professor while your boyfriend jerks off to it?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I liked it.”

“Well, now that you’ve learnt your lesson,” he says, “I think it’s time you got fucked, no?”

You nod and turn to your boyfriend; he tilts his head, nodding towards his hard cock. “You know what to do,” he says.

“Yes, sir.” You sink to your knees, staring up at Seonghwa and sending him a teasing smile before crawling towards Hongjoong. You open your mouth, letting him push his dick inside; after all this time together, he doesn’t need to ease you into it anymore and can go straight to fucking your mouth and you take it diligently, opening your throat the way he’s trained you to. You hear Seonghwa whistle, admiring.

“She sucks cock like a fucking pro,” he laughs; the arousal in his voice is thick and unmistakable. “You’ve trained her well, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong laughs too, patting your head. “I had an excellent student,” he grins. You smile around him at the praise and he curses. “You’re too good at this, babe, Jesus. Gonna cum before I even fuck you.”

He thrusts into your mouth a few more times before pulling out abruptly, shoving you off of him and in an instant Seonghwa’s hands are in your hair as he pulls you to your feet and shoves you back over the desk. You collide painfully with the wood but you barely notice; you’re used to being manhandled by now, and it only makes you more excited.

Large hands you recognise as Seonghwa’s grab your ass cheeks, pulling them apart slowly; the air hits your exposed holes and makes you jump in surprise but you quickly regain your composure. As you still yourself again you feel Hongjoong’s finger running gently across your asshole, almost like he’s inspecting it, before it slides down to toy with your pussy.

“Hm…” Seonghwa’s voice is teasing. “What’s your favourite hole of hers, Professor Kim?”

“What a question,” Hongjoong chuckles and you hear the smile in his voice. His finger prods gently at your rim, making you tense unconsciously and he tuts, lightly slapping the tight little hole. It’s a subtle, painless chastisement but it makes you whine all the same. “Now, now, kitty cat,” he chuckles. “I didn’t train you to squirm, did I?”

“No, sir,” you mumble.

“Good,” he says. “To answer your question, Hwa, I’d have to say her pussy. I love her ass, of course, but nothing compares to the way that little cunt clings to my dick like it’s just begging for a baby.”

“Well that does sound nice.” Seonghwa’s hands leave your ass, returning to your pussy to spread you open. “It looks snug,” he says. “What do you think, little one? Want your professor to breed you?”

It takes you a moment for your brain to catch up with the rest of you and you frown in confusion. “I- you mean you, Professor Park?” You ask. It comes out as more of a strangled cry; your head is a mess of arousal and you barely even register what he’s saying to you, let alone comprehend it fully.

He laughs, patting your soft skin gently. “Yes, perhaps I should be more clear. It must be confusing to be bending over in front of two of your teachers.”

Your face burns at the obvious mockery; the degrading, sneering tone of his voice but you say nothing. Seonghwa hums. “So?” He asks sweetly. “You want me in your cunt, baby girl?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Professor.”

“There’s those manners,” he praises.

He keeps a firm grip on your hips as he slides in from behind; the feeling of his skin against your still burning ass is uncomfortable, but the way his cock is stretching you as he buries himself inside you is the only thing your brain can process right now.

He’s just as big as Hongjoong, maybe a little bigger, but his thrusts are more fluid and controlled; where Hongjoong fucks you like an animal hungry for more, Seonghwa fucks you with precision; with intention. His hands on your hips are firm yet gentle and the way he finds you in your deepest places has your head spinning with euphoria. “Jesus,” he curses. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

You open your mouth to respond, barely getting a whine out before you feel hands in your hair, yanking at it to pull you forward. Hongjoong comes into view on the other side of the desk, his dick somehow still hard as he feeds it into your mouth. “There you go,” he coos. “Keep it hard, baby.”

You nod as best as you can and the friction against his dick makes your boyfriend groan. “Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re so fucking good with cock you could make me cum on accident.”

The feeling of two dicks inside you makes it hard to focus on either one; let alone to begin to process the filthy words they spit down at you. Intesd you close your eyes, letting the tears fall as Hongjoong starts to fuck your throat again; you’re limp against the desk now, held up solely by the wood and by the two men using you to satisfy themselves. “Oh shit,” Hongjoong says, seeing your dazed expression. “Baby’s gone dumb already.” He strokes your hair gently, a small comfort between punishing thrusts. “You okay, little dove?”

You groan in response, unable to do much else; it makes them laugh and Seonghwa pats your ass affectionately. “You’re doing so well,” he says. “I’m almost there, sweetheart. Gonna fill you up real nice, yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” you gasp.

The feeling of Seonghwa’s thrusts growing faster and harder and more desperate is overwhelming; coupled with the sensation of Hongjoong’s cock hitting the back of your throat again and again, it’s almost unbearable. Your fingers claw against the wood, surely leaving marks but you don’t care; you feel unlike you ever have before, stuffed full and used by two of the most attractive men you’ve ever even imagined.

You’re in so deep that you don’t even realise it’s over until the emptiness of your mouth and cunt becomes obvious; you feel cum leaking from your hole, a wet substance dripping down the desk and only when you look closer do you figure out what it is—squirt. You squirted. You squirted all over your boyfriend’s desk with another man’s cock in your pussy and you’ve never been more fucked out and satisfied than you are now.

When you stand up fully your legs, numbed and weakened by their abuse, start to give out but Hongjoong is there in an instant; he catches you in his arms, lowering himself to the ground so he can cradle you in his lap. You’re faintly aware of Seonghwa’s voice and strong hands stroking your hair before he’s gone, and it’s just you and Hongjoong.

“Good girl,” he mutters. “You took that so well.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he smiles. “I only hope your performance in Professor Park’s class improves soon. Otherwise he’ll have to tutor you if you want to keep your spot in his class.”

Your heart jumps. “What?”

“Uni rules,” he shrugs, appearing nonchalant but the knowing smile on his face tells all. “If you fail two exams in a row, that’s what happens.”

You don’t know why he seems so surprised when you turn up in his office a month later with a D-minus and an already leaking pussy. He always knew you were insatiable.

Lucky for you, so are they.

—

comments/reblogs appreciated! i’m not sure im super happy with the ending but we move. let me know your thoughts! love🖤🖤🖤

ateez taglist: @pixie0627 @hon3ysun @bbdeongi @hwaromi @tangerineastronaut @fancypeacepersona @aloevendetta (unable to tag: @lemonkait00 @mylovelymito)

february festival taglist: @hohongsan @nopension

[imsofreakingtired]

sevika gets drunk and ends up forgetting about her own wife and ends up in the brothel, and reader end up knowing all, but dont have courage enough to confront her, but she noticed the changes on your behavior like, dont wanting kisses often, dont wanting to cudlle at nigh or worried when she tells you that she have to work and etc.

(I am obsseeeed how you write angst, mwah mwah)

- 🧸

ohh absolutely. i love that idea<3 also tysmm!

leave you with nothing

content warning(s): idiot lesbians (slight angst) (not too bad i swear)

"are you sick of me? would you like to be? i'm trying to tell you something something that i've already said"

~~~

i think she would get drunk only when work was really stressing her out. or if her sense of self-worth is just at an all-time low (i’m thinking of the time silco dead up ordered her to help with a dead body, which was shocking even to renni, who was literally the mother of the victim.) when she feels trapped, hopeless, powerless, like the enterprise isn’t getting zaun anywhere closer to its ultimate goal. she doesn’t want to confide in you about this, she wants to keep up a front of stoic confidence to you, because she’s afraid if she reveals herself to be vulnerable you will leave her. 

so she drinks her troubles away and tells herself she’ll clear everything up to you in the morning if you ask why she came home late, she tells herself she’ll just play a round of cards or two with her drinking mates, that you’ll never know the difference (never thinks she’s more sober than when she’s stinking drunk.) 

one drink leads to another and she’s vaguely aware of her desire for something else that night - a woman’s touch, a woman’s voice, someone to hold her and tell her she is doing alright. she’s too drunk to remember where she’s felt this before, who has held her like this, and all she is aware of is an all-consuming loneliness that threatens to devour her alive. she’s thrown back into the old days before she met you, when all that awaited her after a hard day’s work was an empty apartment strewn with emptier liquor bottles. she doesn’t want to go back to this home. 

so she makes her way to babette’s, incredibly calm and collected—she’s good at playing sober when she wants to, and babette is surprised to see her check in— isn’t she married? — but she asks no questions and Sevika sees a woman who kind of looks like you. the eyes. the shape of the face. the hips, the way she moves in the dusky light. she picks her immediately. 

she’s too drunk to care about how it might look, asking the woman if it’s alright if she just lay with her head in the woman’s lap. telling her to stroke her hair and let her sleep for a while. even on the walk here she was hot with desire, but now she just wants to rest and hear the pretty words you would whisper in her ear when you thought she was asleep. 

she comes home at around 4 in the morning and promptly passes out on the couch, not even bothering to change. smelling of someone else’s perfume. you find her there in the morning and she doesn’t remember a single thing except that the coins in her pocket are gone. 

you know the signs; you’re not stupid, but you don’t want to think the worst. until you overhear Chuck talking to some of the patrons at the last drop. 

“yeah, Sevika was here, swept the table and then left in the middle of the round talking about Babette’s.” “Babette’s?? doesn’t she have a wife?” 

you wander through the rooms in a daze for the rest of the day as you wait for Sevika to come home. you’re furious at first, then you’re cold with dread. was it you? had you done something wrong to make her want something else, someone else? 

you don’t want to confront her, you’ve convinced yourself by now that whatever it was, it must have been something you did wrong, and even though you can’t think of a single time Sevika seemed angry or even unhappy with you, you can’t bring yourself to start the conversation. 

she comes home tired and her eyes light up when she sees you. when she tries to kiss you, you turn your face away. her hand reaches for your waist, you dodge her touch. 

“baby, what’s with you?” she asks. “i smell funny or what?”

yeah, you smell of babette’s. you smell of liquor. you smell of lies. 

“nothing. i’m tired. you want dinner?” 

“i ate already,” she says. “i’m going to bed.” 

okay, so we’re playing ignorant, you think. two can play at that game. 

as the days go on you avoid her more and more. you still clean up after her in the apartment, cook her meals, wash and mend her clothes as usual. but you don’t stay up waiting for her to come home, and you don’t let her kiss you in bed. Sevika’s at a complete loss—she’s never seen you this way before. unlike you, she’d never wonder if maybe she were at fault. if she feels she hasn’t done wrong, she’d stick to that conviction to the bitter end. but it exasperates her, the way you elude her touches, answer her with monosyllables, stare at her with a strange apprehension in your eyes when you think she isn’t looking. 

“i’m working late tonight,” she tells you one day. “don’t wait up.” 

you feel your heart drop. she’s already a regular for someone at babette’s, you know it. 

“what time do you think you’ll be back?” you ask, a little too quickly. 

she looks at you oddly. you’ve never asked her this before. “i’ll be back when i’m back.” her brows furrow in concern. “why, is something wrong?” 

“no,” you say. 

after she leaves you pace the apartment for about an hour before making up your mind and running out into the street. hood over your face so you won’t be recognized, you run straight to Babette’s and burst through the doors, ignoring the strange looks you receive. no one deters you—you were also a frequent patron before you met Sevika, but you see the workers look at you and whisper to one another. it only confirms your suspicions. you reach Babette’s office and she looks up at you in surprise. 

“can i help you, hon?” 

“Sevika,” you say breathlessly. “how many times has she checked in here?” 

her brows lift. she checks her records. “i don’t do this for anyone, you know - confidential information. but since you’re her wife…”

“how many times, please?” 

she looks up at you. “just once. a month ago. she seemed inebriated. stayed only for two hours.” 

just once? and drunk? Sevika, drunk? you couldn’t imagine it if you tried.

you walk back out of the brothel, barely thinking of where you’re going, barely thinking at all, when you hear a familiar voice call out your name. 

Sevika’s walking swiftly down the street towards you, her eyes dark. 

“what are you doing here?” she asks, grabbing your wrist. 

“what am I doing here?” you shoot back. “i’m here finding out what you were doing here!” 

she looks up at the sign of Babette’s place, as if she can’t understand what you mean. “i haven’t stepped foot in this place,” she growls. 

“Babette’s records say otherwise.” your voice is cold. 

then it all comes back to her at once. Sevika’s lips part slightly as she recalls that night, the desperation, the way she had lain in another woman’s lap. 

“baby,” she says. “listen.” 

“i’m done listening,” you snap, and turn on your heel. you walk away from her, leaving her behind on the street outside Babette’s.  

~~~

note: idk why this idea struck me as so funny i think i'm sleep deprived lol. obviously she will explain herself as best as she can and you'll forgive her. she sleeps on the couch tonight though.

~~~

taglist~ @notlores @demothers-empty-blog @theyluvbix @archangeldyke-all @prettyinpink69 @beatdariceee @sevikaaaalover @intrnetrbl @00valentina-writes00 @zelluna @mamas-evil-hag @sevikassluttywaist @justhereforsubsevika

[weekendviking]

Oh fuck yeah.

One time I was on a remote exploration drilling and field mapping job in the Yilgarn Craton in West Australia (Kimberlites! Diamonds! Archaen Banded Iron Formations!), and with just me, the driller, and two offsiders, so all hands on deck, all the time, both due to the work, and just the extreme environment and living difficulties in a desert camp, several hundred km from Paraburdoo, the nearest town. Not uber remote, but definitely outback, and if you fuck up, dying is extremely possible.

Anyway, in the first week, the driller suggested that we could even the workload by bringing out a friend of his who was an experienced camp cook, and at face value, this seemed like a good idea, and within the budget for the job, freeing us up from some of the camp domestic tasks to concentrate more on the drilling for them, and on the core logging for me, and my field mapping work (not required, but I did it anyway because I was suspicious the Joint Venture partners had falsified their data, which they had, but that's a different story!)

However, new drill team staffer was not doing well. Yes, she could do the work, but was clearly mentally in a bad state, and even though the Driller was trying to keep a lid on it, we could all see that she was in severe distress.

It came to a head after another week or so, when, as was my schedule, I'd go out and do the field mapping work in the mornings when it was cool, come back to camp around 11 to catch an early lunch, and then head down to the drilling site to log the core in the afternoons when it was too hot to be running around the hills.

Pull up to camp, Cook is sitting at the table under the awning, slightly slumped. I get out, walk up, and she's bleeding from the back of both wrists. The Back, mind, across the veins, not the arteries, so oozing badly but Not Actually Going To Die Soon. She was clearly embarrassed to be discovered in this state by 'The Whitecollar Guy', and produced a poor excuse of having cut herself prepping the days meals, and I didn't gainsay that, as one is clearly not going to further stress or question someone partway through a suicide attempt, just deal gently with them and help them. I pulled my field medkit from the car, and started to prep to treat the cuts, with both of us doing the 'We know You know I know this was a suicide attempt but lets just put that aside and not talk about it' dance, but she did at this point say 'Oh, I'm hepatitis positive' so at that point I Paused Bigtime and gloved up properly, (and also mentally 'Then why the fuck are you allowed to be the (admittedly tiny company) company cook' was running through my brain).

Treated the cuts, got her cleaned up and had a quiet chat, then got on the radio to the drill site and got the driller down to camp, and had a quiet chat with him, to whit 'Ok, I don't know what you were thinking but you need to get her safely off site and back to Perth and to a good facility because she's clearly going through it bad'

Turned out that she was his partner, and had been having difficulty getting clean off intravenous drug use (hence the Hepatitis positive) and he'd thought 'If I get her out in the bush where she can't get the shit maybe that will help her dry up'. So the poor lass was going through a hard cold turkey withdrawal while stuck in a tent and caravan camp in the middle of fucking nowhere while having to do a Job on a lax, but still corporate, work site. Don't do that, guys.

We had her offsite and on a plane back to Perth that evening. I hope she recovered, but I never did hear any further news.

Aspencore

[bitchlessdino]

the one where the stranger you fake date turns out to be your childhood friend (m) Teaser

A Valentine collaboration hosted by @camandemstudios and their masterlist

Pairing: office manager!seungcheol x childhood friend!fem!reader Genre: romcom, smut, fluff, slight angst Teaser word count: 1.2k rating: R Summary: In a world where relationships mattered just as much as money or status did, Seungcheol found himself wrapped up with a person from twenty years ago. He didn't know how you remembered him, and frankly he didn't know how he remembered you, but the way you've reentered his life, like a gust of wind, he didn't think he'll ever forget you now.

The crowd of Seungcheol’s colleagues all started harmoniously greeting you, their eyes lighting up and genuine smiles forming for the first time since encountering their superior outside the office. You were quick to entertain them, never leaving Seungcheol’s side as his arm essentially became a leash, lugging the thirty-year-old man around like a purse dog, and being at the receiving end, he was too stunned to object.

“Hi, you must work with this guy right here,” you grinned, nudging into Seungcheol with the crown of your head.

“How do you know Mr. Choi, Miss…” Jihoon began to ask, curiosity radiating off of him as much as it did everyone else.

“Well,” you took Seungcheol’s hand out of his pocket, interlocking your fingers together, earning a bigger reaction than a simple thousand-yard stare from the office manager. “I’m Seungcheol’s girlfriend.”

Everyone involved in the conversation stared at you as if you had grown a second head and Seungcheol looked at you as if you had grown a third.

[…] It’s when he realized for once in his life he feared someone, and it was this smiley little creature that lied through their teeth as easily as they breathed.

“Okay looks like it's all good. Looks like we can finally be in business. What will be our first move, considering you are the first to have proposed the idea?”

“Yes, well, that will be the office party the company is hosting. Usually, everyone is required to attend, and I've skipped many events like it–”

“And you want me to come with you to make you look good for your team?”

“No, I want to make you an excuse so I don’t have to go.”

You furrowed your brows. “That’s counterproductive. Literally the opposite of what I’m here for.”

“But neither of us would have to go.”

Your fingers curled up into your palms, forming halfhearted fists before you unfurled them, trying to cherry-pick the right words to get through this tinman’s head. “You have to realize that simply having a girlfriend is not enough for people to like you. It’s about talking you up, showing off your redeeming qualities. Getting people to understand Seungcheol the person, not Seungcheol the boss.”

“Are you proposing I have no redeeming qualities?”

“You were trying to use me as an excuse to avoid going to a company party. What were you going to do with that time on your own?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“This is exactly why you need my help, Cheol,” you reminded, feeling like you’re lecturing a cat about not scratching up the couch.

He gave a light grimace, “You don’t need to call me that childish abbreviation. I have a whole name.”

You leaned over from your seat, staring over at him wide eyes, fluttering your lashes and feigning a lovestruck grin. “I need to give you a nickname if we’re dating. What about Babe? Baby? Honey? Lover?”

“Seungcheol is just fine,” he answered, unaffected, not bothering to look past his laptop.

Your smile dropped in an exaggerated scowl as you pulled yourself back down, crossing your arms. “How have your other girlfriends dealt with you?”

Seungcheol suddenly had nothing else to say, his eyes started darting everywhere but you, leaning back against the booth and preoccupying his mouth with his scalding hot vanilla latte.

Your eyes narrowed at him suspiciously as the silence persisted and the click-clacking of his keyboard, “Seungcheol, you have dated before, right?”

His eyes flitted back to you like a flickering flame before it went out, directing themselves back to his laptop, typing away at something at a more urgent pace, or looking as if he did.

“Oh my god. You haven’t.”

“Silence,” he finally said.

“You…You haven’t been on a date with anyone? With a woman? Or even a man?”

He rolled his eyes, groaning under his breath. “Don’t make a scene.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you reassured, “of course, I'm just very surprised…and confused. For 30 years of your life?”

“It was never something I prioritized.”

“Middle school. High school. College,” you began listing off.

“I went to an all boys school, and college does not leave much time for dating when you’re getting your Bachelor’s and Master’s.”

You waved your hands bizarrely. “So what? You worked your entire life?”

“Yes.”

“…Hmm.”

“What?”

Curiosity killed the cat, so the cat never came to know Seungcheol and apparently he never came to know the cat. “So if you’ve never been on a date, your intimate life…?”

He raised his brow, and sighed, realizing he was doing that a lot today. He closed his laptop, placing his hands neatly in his lap. “That goes without saying, but yes. I haven’t been intimate with anyone.”

“Right,” you responded, processing the information in real time.

“Are we done here? Is this game of 101 questions over with?”

“Just one more.”

“What?”

“What are you so big for then?”

“They’re watching…” He sang, eyes glazing over off in the distance.

You slightly turned your head to watch his view, seeing a few of your friends off in the distance, coming from the beach or slightly in view from the poolside, that could easily catch you in whatever act you and Seungcheol looked like you were up to. However, at this point, everyone seemed to be in their own world, talking, laughing, minding their own businesses. You weren’t sure if it mattered.

You snickered, resting your hands on his shoulders and readjusting your knees as they dug into the seat cushions. “You’re gonna go this far?”

“Yep. I have to look like a good boyfriend.”

You squinted at him suspiciously. “You had a lot to drink, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know?” He mumbled dumbly, his dimple indented extra deep.

You shook your head in disbelief, dipping your head forward and momentarily colliding with his in a headbutt. You reacted as expected, rubbing your forehead at the slight ache you caused, but from the lack of tact of the receiver, your assumptions were true. “You're so drunk right now.”

His hand rose to your hair, patting it down before finding your ear. As he thumbed over the curve of the helix, he could feel the heat bloom between his fingers. “You look so pretty right now.”

“Cheol,” you tried getting up, but he sat you back down, gripping you by your hips until they met his.

“Stay,” he quietly pleaded, his eyes glistening under the moonlight staring back at you with utter need that you have no choice but just melt right back in his touch.

You couldn’t believe the situation happening right now, and neither could your heart in your chest as it started beating at twice its usual rate. All you could focus on was his hands as they traveled up your body, skimming through the thin fabric of your shirt, following up your spine as he let out soft, ragged breaths.

You pressed the pads of your fingers a little deeper into the meat of his shoulders, “S-Seungcheol–”

“Do you know what will really convince them?” His voice is unrecognizable, deep and indulgent.

You made the ghost of a whimper as a finger travelled back down your body as you responded earnestly. “I don’t think we have to do much more convincing. I think they believe us when we say we’re a couple.”

“But you know what will really convince them though?”

You were scared to even ask, thinking a single word would burst this bubble you have no idea how you got caught in. “What?” you asked softly.

[marauder-misprint]

I loved Nail polish & cologne, you are such an amazing writer! It's been so long since I read a decent version of Moony in a fic. You made me incredibly happy today 🫣

Sorry if it's rude to ask, any chance you could make a sequel?

Omg, I don't find it rude at all to ask for sequels/more parts to any of my writing! It's one of the highest compliments in my opinion! So, thank you 🥰

Also tagging everyone who asked for a part 2 in the replies/comments ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Fresh parchment & perfume

Remus Lupin x reader

part one

2.3k words

cw: fluff, mutual pining, Y/N, angst if you squint

You want to murder Remus Lupin. 

Okay, not really. But you’re frustrated that he’s taken away one of your simple daily joys: staring at him during class. You’ve been caught staring at him multiple times now and you swear there have been times where he was looking at you first. This never happened before so why is it happening now? 

You come to a conclusion, but you don’t like it. It’s the only thing that makes sense though.

“Lily!” you yell as you enter your dorm and slam the door behind you. “What did you say?”

She looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. 

“About what? To who? When?” she asks, preparing her defense.

“About what I smelled in the Amortentia!”

“You never told me what you smelled,” she says, furrowing her brow. “I mean, I can assume, but you never actually told me. And who would I have told?”

“Oh, I don’t know, James, maybe?”

She laughs. “Potter?” Then she looked down at her hands. “I mean, yeah, we’ve talked a little bit and he doesn’t seem… as bad? But we don’t talk about you.” 

“Oh.” Your voice is small. “Never mind then.”

You collapse on your bed and Lily is sitting at the foot of it within seconds. 

“What gave you the idea that I’ve told Potter about your feelings for a certain quiet prefect?” she asks.

You lift your head to glare at her. You’re not in the mood. 

“He’s been looking at me…” you mumble, which causes Lily to fall into a fit of laughter. “Lily!”

“I-I… I’m sorry, but… that’s ridiculous and you know it,” she manages to say in between her laughs. “He’s been looking at you?”

“Yes,” you say firmly. “He’s never looked at me this much before”

You pause as you hide your face in your hands. 

“He must know and he’s trying to figure out how to tell me that he doesn’t feel the same way.”

“Or…”

“Or what?”

“Or he’s working up the courage to talk to you?” Lily offers.

“He can talk to me just fine. We’ve studied before. Played Summoner’s Court. Wizards’ chess. We talk.” 

“Okay, yes, you talk. But have you tried flirting with him?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “No… But then why is he just staring at me and not talking to me?” 

“Why have you been staring at him and not flirting with him?” she shoots your question back at you. 

“I don’t need your logic right now,” you groan, rolling over to shove your face into your pillow. 

---

“Has she always stared at me this much?” Remus asks Sirius nervously as they lounge in their dorm. 

James was at quidditch practice and Peter had solo detention. 

“Can’t say I’ve paid much attention to her, Moony. Might be a better question for Prongs.”

“Why’s that?” 

“Because Y/N’s always with Evans? And he stares at her quite often. Come on, mate. Two plus two.” Sirius gives his friend a sympathetic look. “Have you talked to her at all since?”

Remus doesn’t answer, letting the silence answer for him. No, he hadn’t. The amount of times he’s caught you staring at him over the past two days is startling. Each time, you would turn red and look away almost immediately. He hasn’t been able to focus as much in classes, not when he knows you might be looking at him, not when Sirius thinks he might actually have a chance with you. 

“Have you… oh, I don’t know, considered talking to her?”

“Padfoot,” Remus says tiredly. 

“You can’t ask a girl out without words.”

“You would know.” It comes out more as a sigh. 

Remus doesn’t want to admit it, but yes, out of the Marauders, Sirius had the most experience with girls. But whether his “expertise” could actually be trusted was up in the air. He never stayed with a girl for too long and he wasn’t sure if it was his choice or a result of his actions. 

“Yes, I would know. And if she has been staring at you as much as you claim, even if just these past few days, ask. her. out.” 

“What if she’s just been zoning out? You know, when you stare but you’re not really looking?”

“She’s just been zoned out in your direction multiple times a day?”

“Yes.”

Remus knows it sounds ridiculous, and that’s only enforced when Sirius chuckles from the window where he’s smoking. Then he’s standing up and offering Remus one. 

“Stop being so dense,” he says. “And so hard on yourself. I know what that voice in your head is saying.”

Remus takes the cigarette and follows Sirius back to the window.

“And what is it saying?”

“That you’re not worthy of love or attraction, that you’re not attractive. So how could lovely Y/N actually like you when you’re, well, you.”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Remus says dryly before taking a drag. 

“Oi, not saying any of that’s true.”

Remus rolls his eyes. 

“Ask. her. out. And you’ll see that you’re wrong.”

The two boys sit on the window ledge for a while, each going through a few cigarettes. Silence fills the room. Sirius is more than content to just let his brain empty while Remus’s mind is running circles around itself.

Was he imagining the blush when he caught you staring? Were you staring because you liked him? Were you just staring into the distance and turning red because you realized you were staring at a person? How often did you stare at him? Was it because of that Potions lesson? What if you were staring near him and not actually at him? Was he being narcissistic to think you looked at him? He sat by Peter, James and Sirius in every class. It was very logical to think that you were staring at one of them. 

“Shit,” Remus mutters.

“What?” Sirius’ voice sounds far away despite being right next to him.

“She’s been staring at you.” 

Sirius laughs.

“No, Pads, think about it. You’ve been next to me every time I’ve caught her staring. It makes so much sense!”

“Moony. You’re delusional,” Sirius says. 

James enters the dorm. Sirius’ eyes light up.

“Prongs, help me out here!” Sirius calls as James throws his bag down on his bed.

“Yeah?” 

“Y/N. Has she been staring at me or Moony in class?” 

“I’m not getting in between you two if you’re fighting over a girl,” James says, laying down on the floor near the window.

“Not fighting over a girl,” Remus says, giving Sirius an annoyed look. “Padfoot just figures you’d know who she stares at, if she’s staring at all, since you, you know, stare at Lily.”

“I do not!” James exclaims as he sits up rapidly.

Sirius laughs, “She’s not in here and we know you do. Don’t lie.” He pauses for a moment to light a new cigarette. “For Moony’s sake, does Y/N stare at him during class?”

James slowly lays back down while giving Sirius a wary look.

“I swear, if I get hexed for answering…”

“Not going to hex you!” Sirius says.

“She stares at Moony. A lot. Think she pays more attention to him than lessons.”

“So she’s gone for you!” Sirius barks, clapping a hand on Remus’ knee and causing him to grimace. “Fucking told you!”

---

You make a serious effort to not look in Remus’ direction during classes. It kills you. It’s been your habit for years and you’re quitting cold turkey. You’re both grateful and mortified that Remus hasn’t called you out for it; he can’t call you out for it if he hasn’t talked to you. 

It doesn’t help that Lily has started gently nudging you every time Remus enters a room or sits remotely near you. She doesn’t have to say anything for you to know what she’s thinking. 

“You’re the first thing he looks at when he enters a room,” she whispers during Transfiguration. 

“Or he’s looking for the Marauders,” you retort just as quietly. 

“Yeah, right,” she says sarcastically. 

Professor McGonagall flashes a harsh look in your direction and the two of you fall silent. You’re thankful that she didn’t call you out, or worse, ask you to share what you were talking about with the class. That would have been mortifying. 

You’ve been successful in your mission to not stare at Remus so far, despite the insatiable urge to do so pulling at your eyes. You swear, the man is magnetic. It doesn’t help that Lily has suddenly become relentless in her nudging and subtle poking.

“What?” you hiss, looking down at your notes.

“He keeps looking this way.” 

You roll your eyes and turn your attention back to McGonagall. While Lily’s words stoked the flame of hope in your heart, you didn’t need to be losing house points for not paying attention. 

When class ended, Lily put her things away at record speed.

“Potter! Wait up!” she calls, leaving you behind.

You frown as you briefly watch her go. You usually walked to your next class together. You knew that she smelled something like James in the Amortentia and that had fueled her new friendship with him. And as much as you liked seeing your friend this happy, you didn’t like that it meant walking to your classes alone. 

Except when you exit the classroom, you aren't alone. Remus is right at your side. You walk in silence for a few paces. It’s not uncomfortable but it’s charged. Despite the other students in the corridor with you, you swear you can hear every step you take. It doesn’t help that you can feel your heart beating in your throat. 

“How’ve you been?” you ask. You keep your face straight, knowing that if you look at Remus, you’ll likely trip, fall and embarrass yourself.

“Oh… I’ve been relatively good.” He pauses momentarily. “James hasn’t shut up about what he smelled in the Amortentia.” 

You try not to laugh. “Lily’s not been too shy about it either. I think she’ll say yes sooner or later.” 

Remus gestures ahead of you to where the two are. “Seems like it.”

Silence falls between you again. You were used to being with Remus in the quiet; that’s how it usually was when you studied in the library together. Except that was different. When you studied, you had your books in front of you and you were both scribbling away, scrawling on  parchment until your inkwells ran out. 

“Did you really smell the library in the Amortentia?” you ask, breaching the silence. You’re not really sure what made you ask, but something inside of you needed to know.

“Erm, yeah. Yeah, I did,” he answers. He’s not looking at you in the same way you’re not looking at him, meaning you’re both trying to gauge the other’s expression in your peripheral vision. “What did you smell? You got pretty quiet after smelling the potion.”

“Oh, um, I smelled… nail polish, chocolate, parchment,” you listed off with a glaring omission. 

Remus let out a breath that he wasn’t aware he was holding. He didn’t want to admit that he was disappointed in your answer. He was hoping you had smelled something more obviously him. It didn’t register in his brain that he was the chocolate and parchment you smelled. 

“That all?” he asks hesitantly. 

“Was the library all you smelled?” you retorted defensively. 

You saw his features tense. 

“Was it?” you repeated, more gentle this time, like talking to a scared child. 

“It was the library. Everything that encompasses my usual visits,” he starts to say as he turns to look at you. “The books, fresh parchment, ink, your perfume.” 

You stop walking. Remus notices immediately, having been watching you and your expression. His heart is racing in his chest. He can’t tell if your reaction is good or bad, based on your wide eyes and sharp intake. You swallow, looking up at the taller, scarred boy next to you.

“My… perfume? You smelled me?” you ask. “You smelled me in the Amortentia?”

Remus flushes with embarrassment. He feels like he should’ve known better than to trust Sirius on this. He was a self-proclaimed ladies’ man afterall. 

Remus nods. He doesn’t know if he trusts his voice, but then he starts rambling.

“I thought… Sirius said you couldn’t look away from me so he said I had a chance, but obviously, if you don’t feel the same way… I don’t want this to change anything between us. I don’t want it to be awkward. I really value our friendship. I’m so sorry if I just ruined it, but I like you. I really do. I have for a while, but I’ll try to stop if it makes you uncomfort-”

“Remus,” you say firmly as you grab his arm. 

He stops talking immediately. His eyes search yours for an answer that he realizes he probably cut off. 

“What do you always carry with you and share with me in the library?” you ask, your voice just as firm.

“Chocolate?” His brows bunch in confusion.

“And what you always, always have a fresh roll of?”

“Parchment?”

“And… I may have smelled one more thing. In the Amortentia.” You took a breath. “Your cologne.”

“My cologne?” he echoes like how you had repeated him earlier. 

You wait for him to connect the dots, pressing your lips together. 

“So you smelled chocolate, parchment and my cologne?”

“Don’t forget nail polish.”

He chuckles. He takes your hand that’s on his arm and holds it in his own. 

“What you’re saying is that I do have a chance? That Sirius was right?” 

“Sirius was right,” you laugh. 

“In that case, would you like to come with me to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

“I would love to come to Hogsmeade with you, Remus,” you answered with a smile.

Maybe Sirius does know a thing or two about girls, Remus thinks as he walks with you to your next class. 

Tags: @oursweetmoony, @pinkdaiisies, @iloveremmy, @3sriracha, @auntjezzy

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

You mentioned how ace's dream was like a vague fanfiction addressing some fun fandom theories and ideas but I think whats the best part about it was how the progression up to that point made sense. Theyve dropped so many moments showing ace caring dearly for yuu to the point where this dream as fanservicey like that it was it feels natural for ace to have such a dream if that makes sense WAAGH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

What did you think of the dream though ms raven? The dream made me wail so badly ough hes finally cried too m sure hes been through a lot 🥹 seeing cater talk to ace so sincerly it hits me so hard in the feels im so glad hes finally got to cry (a little anyways)

Ace’s dream felt like fanfiction, but at least it felt natural or like everything up to this point was leading up to this being his wish. I unfortunately cannot say that for several other dreams. Certainly ones definitely felt egregious or contrived. Some were largely fanservice (Savanaclaw Rook, dorm leader Cater, delinquent Deuce) or just excuses to make new cards (merform twins), even if it didn’t make complete sense for the character to wish for it.

dgjswvizjsowk I know you’re probably expecting me to comment on Ace in his own darn dream, but I actually have a lot more to say about Cater. Ace’s motivations + butting heads with the rescue squad were what I expected them to be (though I give him props for being the only character so far to resist waking up right away). More on my precursory thoughts in this post (but based the exact wording of your ask. I’d be tired to guess you’ve already read it 😅)! But CATER????? TELL ME WHY HE WAS THE GOAT THIS UPDATE 😭

Cater does SO much???? First he suggests the third years help Trey cook BBQ so the darkness is distracted while the others can isolate Ace and try to wake him. When that attempt fails, Cater pretends to agree with Leona’s proposal to leave Ace behind to bait Deuce to come after him to play as his support. Cater sitting down to have a heart-to-heart convo with Ace??? And then mercilessly using his UM to gang up on Ace and beat him up??? 😭 Him reminding Ace about his courage facing off against OB Riddle… Cater confessing he wanted to run, but being encouraged to join the fight because aaaaah his kouhai looked so cool and dashing!! Thanking Ace??? Finally verbalizing some of his feelings???!?!?!?!???! CATER PULLING ACE OUT OF THE DARK????? MY GOD… OTL ThE biG BRoTHER EnERGGY WaS SO DTRONgGGGGGggGGGGG

And he kept this up even into Trey’s dream???????? Where Cater once again does a TON. He volunteers to investigate since makes the most sense (he is a Heartslabyul student so it’s not shady to be in the dorm and his UM is useful for combat). Cater also the third years with him into the kitchen to have a look around. Him saying he’s impressed with Silver’s will and how he would’ve given up so much sooner if he were him???? Dropping interesting lore about Trey??? Cater admitting that he has always been a spectator and now realizes he should have done more than just watch events unfold???

CATER CONSISTeNTLY puTTING hIMSELF AnD THE THirD YEARS IN hARm’s WAy FiRST… StRAtEGIzING… mAnIPULATING… AND ACTUAL SELF-REFLECTION AnD SINCERiTY????

Cater got to shine SO much this update, especially in Ace’s dream. He really came off like a big brother figure to Ace. A little mean, but also able to be so very vulnerable with him. Him not wanting to give up on Ace even though he later says if he were Silver, he’d have given up on everyone a while ago… MAN. CaTER cARES SO muCHHHHHhhh 😭 This might actually bump him up a little in my tier list… I didn’t like him much before 💦

[psycholuvrgirl]

duplicity! [teaser]

rafe cameron x sweetheart!pogue!oc [baby porter]

summary: baby porter, the pogue princess, asks rafe cameron out on a date after losing a bet. to her surprise, rafe says yes.

warnings: nsfw (very brief smut)! 

a/n: this is just a teaser for this series. this series will follow the plot of obx, so a lot of it is going to seem very familiar, just with a twist because baby will be in it

wc: 2.1k

it was meant to be just one simple task: ask rafe cameron on a date. baby lost a bet with jj and the punishment was simple, but the problem is baby porter is, unlike most pogues, terribly shy.

“guys i don’t think i can do it,” she says, glancing across the boneyard where rafe was standing. he has an arm wrapped around his sister, sarah, laughing with kelce and topper about god knows what.

“you lost, baby, you gotta do it. deal’s a deal,” jj says.

“deal’s a deal,” she breathes out. “okay. i can do this.”

“you can do this,” kie assures.

baby stands from the log she was sat in, crossing the sandy expanse until she was right in the lion’s den of kooks. also unlike most pogues, baby got along with most of the kooks—she wasn’t like other pogues, which meant she wasn’t treated like one. so her presence didn’t seem to unnerve anyone in the group.

“sup, baby,” topper says, throwing back a swig of his beer.

“hi baby,” sarah says with a warm smile, “what’s up?”

“uh, well, actually…” baby straightens her back, clearing her throat and doing the best to sound as confident as she can. “i’m here to talk to rafe.”

“me?” rafe asks, pointing the lip of his bottle to his own chest.

“mhm,” baby says with a nod.

the kooks ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at this, making rafe mutter threats at them as he follows baby away. she shoots the pogues a glance—a final plea to be done with this, but they all just give her encouraging thumbs-ups. so she continues to lead rafe to a more secluded area.

“am i in trouble with the pogue princess?” he teases.

“don’t call me that,” baby says through a whisper.

baby isn’t sure when she earned the nickname “pogue princess” but she didn’t like it, not one bit. it made her feel weird, but for some reason the nickname coming from rafe’s lips didn’t seem to bother her as much as it normally would. but she quietly scolds him all the same.

they both take a seat on a large branch that washed ashore, rafe’s whole body turned towards baby as he awaits whatever it is she dragged him out here for. baby clears her throat, uncrossing her legs just to cross them back over.

“so, rafe…” she says.

he lets out a laugh. “so, baby…” he takes a sip of his beer. “what d’ya need?”

if baby has learned one thing from her pogue friends, it’d be to just “let it rip” in any circumstance that could remotely use that advice. so that’s what she does.

“will you go on a date with me?” she asks, words tumbling out faster than even she can comprehend.

“what?” he asks with another laugh, “i have no idea what you just said, b.”

she clears her throat again, sitting up straighter. “i said…” she looks down at her nails, picking at the pink polish coating them. “will you go on a date with me?”

she braces herself for rafe’s reaction. she expects laughter, for him to holler in her face and say the big “no” as if she just asked him for a million dollars.

“sure.”

her eyes bug out of her head, head snapping up to look at him. “what did you just say?”

“sure,” he repeats.

“y— you wanna go on a date? with me?” she asks. a small smile raises to his lips, the smile turning into a quiet chuckle. he nods, and baby’s eyes only widen further. “seriously?”

“yeah, i mean, you’re cute,” he says, “why not?”

her skin burns at the compliment. “you think i’m cute?”

“why do you sound so surprised? you know you’re cute,” he says.

“no i don’t,” she says.

“well…” rafe scoots closer to her, his cologne invading her senses. “i can assure you…” he kisses her left cheek. “that you, baby…” then her right. “are very cute.” his lips meet hers, just for a moment. the kiss is over almost as soon as it began and baby porter is still left a blubbering mess after it. her mouth opens to speak, then closes, then reopens. no words come out though, making rafe laugh just a little more. “how about tomorrow night? i’ll pick you up at around seven?”

she nods wordlessly and he chuckles.

“i’ll see you then,” he says, standing from the branch. he holds out a hand to her and she takes it, letting him pull her up effortlessly.

“see ya,” she breathes out.

he leans over, pressing a kiss to her cheek before walking away. she stands there stunned for far too long, and when she finally snaps back to reality she scurries back to her friends.

“how’d it go?” john b asks.

“should we start planning the wedding?” jj asks.

“he… he said yes,” baby says.

kiara’s head nearly snaps off from how quickly she turns, pope drops his beer on the sand, john b’s jaw falls slack, and jj spits out the beer in his mouth.

“he what?” pope asks.

“you’re going on a date with rafe cameron?” jj asks. before baby can answer, he howls with laughter. “oh my god, that is priceless!”

but, for some odd reason, baby porter didn’t find this funny—not even a little bit, not even at all.

“what are you even worried about?” jj asks, “it’s rafe fucking cameron. you don’t need to impress the guy, you just need to get this over with.”

a honk from outside pulls baby’s attention away from her friends. “that’s him.”

“we’ll walk you out,” pope says. baby turns to pope with a scrunched face. “what? it’s for safety reasons.”

baby sighs, reluctantly standing and allowing her four friends to follow her out of the chateau. rafe is on his phone, standing next to his car, and looks up at the sound of the front door shutting. he looks over baby’s outfit—a sundress over a bikini, just in case. his eyebrows raise as he looks her over, then his face falls as he notices the pogues behind her.

“have her home by eight,” jj says.

“jay, it’s only seven,” baby says, shooting jj a glare.

“fine. eight thirty,” he says.

“ignore him,” baby says with a small, nervous giggle. rafe laughs with her, but it’s evidently forced for her comfort.

“just, don’t do anything stupid,” kiara says, ever the blunt one in the group. “bring her back in one piece, okay?”

“okay,” rafe says, in hopes that they’d go away. and his wish is granted because they all reluctantly head back inside, tossing looks over their shoulders at baby. she doesn’t seem to notice though. no, not when her focus is on the tall man in front of her.

“hi,” she says.

he smiles. “hi.” he makes his way to her, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips that makes her heart flutter.

and the rest of the night goes the same. he brings her onto the druthers for a picnic under the stars, bringing them to the middle of the ocean so they have privacy, the stars and a few candles being the only light they have on the deck of the boat.

“have you ever gone night swimming?” baby asks.

“hasn’t everyone?” rafe asks. both of them are laying next to each other, most of the food packed away by now. they stare up at the stars as the silence of the night engulfs them, only breaking the silence every so often.

“probably,” baby says with a laugh, “i guess that was a silly question.”

“did you want to?” he asks, turning his head to look at her. “did you want to go night swimming?”

she turns to him with a bright smile, nodding rapidly. rafe gets up from his spot, helping baby up. he strips off his shirt as she gets rid of her dress. rafe runs and dives off the end of the boat and baby follows him, diving into the cold ocean. they both resurface, letting out joyous laughs when they see each other. 

despite everything she’s been told about rafe cameron, baby actually finds herself having the best night of her life with him. her heart sinks a little at the thought of everyone’s judgements making it take this long for her to ever get to know the beautiful boy in front of her.

“why are you frowning?” rafe asks.

“oh, am i? i didn’t mean to,” she says. baby swims closer to him and he grabs her, letting her wrap herself around him.

“are you not enjoying the date?” he asks.

“no, i am!” she exclaims, her heart quickening at the thought of him believing this is anything other than perfect. “i’m loving tonight, honest!”

“then what’s wrong?” he asks, tucking a soaked strand of hair behind her ear.

“it’s just… you’re so different than what i expected,” she says, “i wish i had asked you sooner.”

rafe doesn’t bother with words. he was never good with words anyways. instead he presses his lips to hers, their lips moving passionately with one another. heads twisting as baby holds onto rafe just that much tighter. like he might slip away if she doesn’t, like the moment might fade to nothing if she lets him go.

the brush of something against her leg has baby scrambling to climb rafe, ruining their perfect kiss as she yelps.

“what was that! something touched my foot!” she exclaims. rafe breaks into a fit of laughter, but she’s still trying to climb him as if he’s a tree. “it’s not funny, rafe!”

she quickly swims over to the side of the boat, hauling herself up and shivering on the ledge. he follows her up and guides her inside. the air is warmer down below and rafe wraps a towel around baby’s shoulders.

“there you go,” he whispers.

“thank you,” she says with a shy smile.

rafe responds by reconnecting their lips, cupping her cheek with one hand as the other lands on her waist. her arms wrap around his neck, letting her hands move through his hair. when his tongue slips against hers, caressing it sensually, she lets out a whimper that goes straight to rafe’s dick.

he gently nudges her down onto the couch. he hovers above her without detaching their lips. he pulls at the tie of her bikini top, slipping the fabric away. he pulls back and looks down at her with hearts in his eyes.

“wow,” he whispers. baby crosses her arm over her chest, but he gently pries it away to continue admiring her. then, he dives in. his lips wrap around one nipple, his hand massaging the other. he switches after some time, leaving baby to mewl at the sensations he’s causing. 

“kiss me again,” she says, trying to pull him up. he obliges, climbing back up to bring their lips back to their prior rhythmic dance together. his hand slips down her body, falling beneath her bikini bottom and massaging her wet slit. she lets out a quiet whimper as he gathers the wetness on his fingers, then a loud moan when he brings his fingers to her clit.

“you like that?” he asks. she nods her head and he dips back down to kiss her, swallowing every moan that falls from her pretty lips.

he slowly pushes one finger inside of her, then another. leaving her a mess underneath him. she grinds up towards him, chasing her own release.

“rafe, please,” she pleads as he slips his fingers in and out of her.

“please what, baby?” he pants. she’s past using words at this point, too lost in her own pleasure to make her mouth form anything coherent. so she takes matters into her own hands, literally. she drops her hand down to cup him, massaging him through his board shorts. she slips her hand inside, wrapping her tiny hand around his length. they both grind into one another’s hands, chasing their highs. when they both get their release they lay there, content with one another’s company. 

interrupted by the ringing of baby’s phone, they both reluctantly go back to the deck to retrieve the device.

“did he kidnap you? what’s taking so long?” kiara asks.

baby rolls her eyes, “i’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“tomorrow?” john b shrieks.

“goodbye guys.”

since that night, rafe and baby have been inseparable. in secret, that is. both went home to report to their friends that the date was just a bust, both knowing that if their friends knew about their successful date that they’d never hear the end of it. so that’s how the relationship went. sneaking out late at night, long weekends spent alone together, calls until the early morning. it worked for them — secret, intimate, and just perfect.

[balladofboothill]

Joe burrow x EMT

note : wrote this purely off kissing a tree with your car brownies and 10hrs of shitty sleep

warnings : brief talk of medical stuff, the q word, couple sex jokes and very short

Like any medical household, the q word is banned (quiet)

"Why the fuck is it so quiet here" Ja'marr comes busting in through the doorway, disturbing the much needed peace of the household, joe shushed him right away as the last time he said the q word he got a stuffed animal thrown his way, "we never speak of the q word here" Joe says quietly as Ja'marr gives him a look as if he has four heads.

Joe asks the strangest questions

"What happens if someone's dick snaps off during sex?" Joe asks, randomly at 4am, "uhhhhh, I don't know, why?" You ask, "dunno just wondering" Joe answered with this strange look in his eye, still slightly confused at why he's asking this, another time while eating dinner he asked what would happen if someone stuck a carrot in their eyes.

Med truck sex.

JK! But he did ask if that was possible while he was watching you load it. "Could you ride me on that stretcher?" Joe asks in a bland tone for the question he just asked. "Joe baby, great idea but I'd like to keep my job." You answered to him, clearly joking upset

Thinks it's the coolest thing that he now has a personal nurse for when he's sick

Man flu is the worst thing to ever happen to men, Joe is 100% down for the count, acting like he's gonna puke his lungs out, "nurse can you please give me some cough meds" Joe begged as best he could between the coughs, "yeah here." You said as you hand him the cough meds, "this isn't what I expected to be using my schooling for" you though to yourself, praying you don't get sick next

If his friends get injured while they're doing guy things he'll text you a picture and ask what to do

A text pings during your lunch break of a photo that Joe sent, it's of a pretty sizable open cut with a fishing hook stuck in it, Joe had taken a couple high school friends fishing at your family's pond earlier before your shift, texting back "don't remove the hook, cut the line and go to the ER", a couple hours later you receive a photo of the stitched up cut

any EMT is awful to watch football with

Watching a random college game after a long shift with Joe should have been relaxing until you get bored and start commentating the injuries that can happen, "during my first week I saw a player snap his entire latissimus dorsi" you commentate as Joe looks in slight horror

Thank you for reading :) please reblog to support writers!!<3

[covenofagatha]

just realised that on Saturday supposedly the FFF (finger free february) started so now I'll make it my own personal goal to not touch myself for the whole month (ignoring the fact that I already lost the challenge lmao) and its gonna be so hard because you'll be writing and posting so many delicious filth and its gonna ruin me

ALSO, would you THINK reader would make it until the end of the month with g!p Agatha teasing them and making them squirm... 'innocently' brushing he cock against reader's ass, pressing gently against her and making her hiss almost in pain

Or also just being horny and dirty talking all day, for example during breakfast as they both take their coffee and maybe Agatha says "do you like how I made your coffee dear" and reader's like "of course, did you add cream today? It tastes a little.bit different?" And Agatha is smirking and shes smug and her eyes scream i need to bend you over the kitchen island while she says "yeah added MY cream" and you see her palming her cock though her pants and you just gulp and whine as you rub your legs together to get some friction but Agatha puts her hands firmly on your thighs and tuts "oh no darling, you're not supposed to touch yourself, in any way. First of all, it's because we both know that is only mommy's place to touch; second, it's February and it was you who told me you wanted to do this challenge"

She says all that as she gets up from her seat and nears you and whisper in the ear "You told me, no begged me to let you go through this, but never said anything about me teasing you to make you break. And I will break you. Like I always do, cause your role is just to be a whiny little puppy for mommy to use, isnt it?"

And then she just kind of lean and sucks a mark on your neck

btw this is not a request ask, I'd love to know if you had any headcanons about how this ^^^^ could work, because I personally think it would be so hot and frustrating and would be a clear example of how edging worksss and why it is so used

- ✒

I didn't know FFF was a thing (have we all failed?) but I absolutely love this idea and I would be MORE than happy to add some thoughts

It's January 31st, and you're scrolling on your phone in bed after Agatha just thoroughly fucked you, and you see a post about Finger Free February. Before you can think about it, you show Agatha and ask, "Think I could do it?" Agatha smirks and says there is no way you could last an entire month without her touch, so of course you have to commit

However, just the next day you come to regret it when you wake up and find Agatha jerking off next to you, staring at you. You can't resist trying to slide a hand into your pants to relieve some of the heat because watching her touch herself is just too hot, when she tuts and reminds you of the challenge. It's fucking torture when she has you take your shirt off and cums all over your tits and licks herself off while you're squirming underneath her and wondering if it counts if you cum without being touched

It seems like Agatha is just being mean on purpose now, grinding her cock into your ass each time she steps behind you (even when there is MORE than enough space where she doesn't have to touch you at all), pinching your nipples, sucking on your neck and whispering how much mommy misses your cunt in your ear

It's about eight days in when you start purposefully moving away from her whenever she comes near you because you physically can't take it anymore, and of course Agatha is by no means okay with this, so she bends you over her knee and spanks you until you're a sobbing, wet mess and apologizing profusely

"That's my good girl. I'm sorry that mommy is trying to get you to break - I just need you too bad. Come on, honey, let mommy touch you," she purrs and you almost give in right there, but you're ultimately too proud and too stubborn to give in

Not having your cunt available whenever she wants it is making Agatha really struggle too, so she ramps up her efforts to get you to break because at this point, she is also too horny that she can't think straight

She begs you while stroking her cock in front of you, telling you "Look how hard mommy is for you, mommy's cock needs you so bad, baby, please" and fuck, you've never been more wet and needy in your life but you're determined because it's been over half a month and you can't give in now

So you suck her off and she cums down your throat with a loud grunt and you should just throw out your pair of underwear because there's no coming back from how badly you just ruined them

The closest you come to breaking is when you're in the shower with three days to go (even just the thought of Agatha now has you soaked and aching to be filled) and she gets in too. You gasp, already dizzy with need at the proximity of her naked body and hard cock, and she pins you against the wall and kisses down your body and slides her cock in between your pussy lips to just grind her length against you and you think you might just be able to cum from how it feels to have her sliding against your clit and opening

Just before you give in and let your orgasm wash over you, she pulls back and you actually cry out. "You're so close to the end, honey. You can't quit now," Agatha says with a wink and frustrated tears sting your eyes.

On the 28th (thank god it's not a leap year), you start a countdown with a minute until midnight and the moment the clock strikes 12 on March 1st, you practically pounce on Agatha, who has also been eagerly waiting. She shoves two fingers inside you and strokes your clit and you instantly cum, having been on edge for an entire month

She makes you cum until you have to beg her to stop, and then just one more time for good measure because it's been too long and she wants to make sure that you're completely satiated

"Think you'll do it again next year?" she asks teasingly and you shake your head immediately because you know there's no way you could survive that long without her touching you again

But you absolutely cannot wait for No Nut November to turn the tables on her

[kunareads]

if walls could talk

suguru x reader

you know better than to let suguru pull you back in, but that's never stopped you before.

masterlist

wc: 3.2k

happy belated bday to my sunshine <3

content: toxic ex-boyfriend!suguru, smut (FILTH), oral (f!receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected p in v sex, overstimulation, suguru is generally a menace

18+ please i block children <3

you spot him first.

immediately, your stomach twists. of course he's here.

suguru geto moves through gojo's house party like he owns it, like the music hums at his frequency. he leans against the stair railing, dressed in black, sleeves pushed up like an afterthought, talking to someone without really looking at them.

his posture is too relaxed, his head tilted just slightly in your direction, mouth curved in the faintest smirk. he already caught you looking. you snap your gaze away like that might undo the weight settling in your chest.

a guy you don't know leans in too close, too eager, and says something forgettable. you should be paying attention, but your skin is already buzzing and hyperaware—and then suguru is there.

"you look bored."

his words slip smoothly into your space. his attention is locked on you, amused, like he's daring you to disagree.

the guy hesitates, looking between the two of you, unsure.

and eventually, because of course, the guy takes the hint and backs off.

suguru exhales, lazy and smug like he's enjoying something only he understands. he leans in just enough for you to feel it, his voice low and edged with amusement.

"miss me?"

your lips press together, an irritated inhale barely audible over the base pulsing through the floor.

you could walk away. you should. but you won't. instead, you tip your chin, meeting his gaze. "you want honesty, or do you want me to stroke your ego?"

it's too easy.

you should know better. you do know better. but old habits die hard, don't they?

he's watching you, waiting. seeing how long you'll entertain him. and maybe that's why you don't walk away. you hate the idea of giving him that satisfaction.

instead, you arch a brow. "still ruining my nights, i see."

suguru grins, all easy arrogance. "ruining? i just did you a favor.

"and if i didn't want it?"

he hums like he's considering it, then shrugs. "then your judgment's worse than i thought."

you open your mouth to fire back, but before you can, he swipes your drink, finishing it in one smooth motion, like it's his.

you blink. "really?"

"you weren't going to." he licks the taste from his lips, intentional, smug.

you shouldn't be amused, but you are anyway.

"you're insufferable."

his fingers skim your wrist—fleeting, a test. when you don't pull away, he takes your hand.

"come on."

"suguru—"

but he's already leading you upstairs, past the crowd, past the noise. and you let him. because you always do.

he pulls you into a room and closes the door. he leans against it, gaze intent, considering.

and then—like it's the most natural thing in the world, the next step in a conversation you've had a hundred times before—

"when's the last time someone fucked you?"

you don't answer right away. not because you don't have a response—you do. you could roll your eyes, scoff, turn this into something lighter than it is.

but that's the thing about suguru. he knows when you're acting.

you hate how good he is at waiting. how he lets silence stretch, never rushing to fill it. how his presence alone pulls the air tight between you.

you exhale, slow, measured. "shut up."

and he laughs, like that's exactly what he expected you to say.

his hands find your waist, grip loose, giving you a chance to pull away. you don't take it.

so he shifts closer, his head tilting, his voice dipping lower. not just teasing now, but something smoother, softer. familiar in a way that makes your stomach tighten.

"so you do think about me." it's a statement, not a question.

you inhale steadily, but your pulse betrays you. neither of you move. and that's the problem, isn't it?

old habits don't just die hard. they never really die at all.

"we shouldn't."

it's barely a whisper, a breath more than anything. a last-ditch effort that neither of you believe.

suguru moves in undeterred, his breath warm against your cheek, his hands sure on your waist. like the words don't matter when you're already leaning into him.

"then stop me," he murmurs, but you both know you won't.

his lips brush against your jaw, slow and deliberate, like he's giving you time to change your mind. a reminder of how easy it is for him to undo you.

and you hate it—hate how easy it is. how normal it feels. how much you want it.

"relax, angel."

the name unravels you instantly. too familiar, like slipping into something you swore you'd never touch again.

somewhere in the haze, your back meets the wall. his hands slide under your shirt, palms warm.

it's instinct, muscle memory. the way his thumb brushes against your thigh, the way his body presses into you. the way his mouth finds yours, and you open for him without thinking.

his tongue drags against yours, slow and teasing. he kisses you like a reminder, like a dare, like he's testing how long it'll take you to melt for him again.

(and you do. of course you do.)

he hums, satisfied. his hand slides higher, fingers pressing into the lace at the crease of your thigh. your teeth sink into your lip, trapping the sound before it escapes.

he chuckles knowingly, as if he's done this a hundred times before.

he barely pulls away before his hands slide down, gripping your thighs, guiding you backward onto the bed, onto your knees.

your breath hitches and his gaze never wavers. he shifts like he already knows you'll follow. settling on his back, he pulls you with him.

"come here, baby."

his grip is firm but patient, like he's waiting for you to make the decision he already knows. your stomach tightens as his hands settle on your hips, urging you higher, forward, straddling his face.

he exhales, warm against the inside of your thigh, the heat of it making you shiver.

the first stroke of his tongue is hot, slow, devastating.

a gasp tears from your lips, unbidden, your fingers gripping the headboard as he drags you against him, pinning you in place.

suguru rasps against you, the sound vibrating through your core. his grip changes, no longer guiding but keeping you there.

his tongue flicks over your clit, slow and willful, before dragging down, curling inside you.

your breath stutters, hips rolling instinctively, seeking more, chasing it, pressing into the heat of his mouth

"fuck—" he moans against you like he's the one falling apart, and you're gone.

your thighs tighten as you grind down, ruining yourself on his tongue.

suguru hums, his nails digging into your thighs. "that's it, baby."

he flattens his tongue, dragging it up slowly, sucking you into his mouth, savoring every second.

a shudder tears through you.

"suguru—fuck."

you bite your lip, swallowing the sounds, but his fingers tighten, spreading you open, his tongue flicking faster. he sucks, harsh and insistent.

the noise that rips from you is high and helpless.

he groans in approval, the vibration traveling up your spine, unraveling you.

"there we go."

his voice is smug, wrecked, and then his hands pivot—one gripping your hip, the other slipping between your legs, two fingers pressing in, curling deep.

a strangled sound escapes, your body arching as he works you open, tongue and fingers moving in tandem, determined.

"look at you," he mumbles against you, dark and teasing. "making such a mess for me, baby. c'mon, lemme see those pretty eyes."

your hips stutter, pleasure winding tight, too much, too good, too easy.

his fingers find that spot, stroking just right, his tongue working your clit in precise circles.

"suguru, i—fuck, i can't—"

"yes, you can." his voice is low, confident, coaxing you through it. "be good for me, angel."

your thighs quiver, your breath breaks in your chest, and white-hot pleasure detonates inside you, all-consuming.

you can feel him smirking against you, pleased with himself, like he knew this was coming all along.

the pleasure drowns you. your nails dig into his scalp as he moans into you, insatiable as he drags you through it until you're whimpering, twitching, overstimulated.

only then does suguru slow, pressing a lingering kiss to your clit.

you're panting, lightheaded, barely aware of his hands grabbing your hips before you're on your back.

he hovers over you now, mouth slick, gaze unreadable. "that's one."

his fingers slide down your stomach, finding your hypersensitive clit, teasing until you jolt, a whimper slipping free.

suguru grins. "think you can give me another, baby?"

and when he slides inside, stretching you open, filling you slow and deep, you realize you never stood a chance against him.

his hips grind into yours, deep and filthy, unrelenting even as your moans grow erratic, as your thighs shake, as the tension coils tight inside you.

he fucks you like he never lost you.

a whimper tears from your throat.

"what is it, baby?" he asks. "tell me what you need."

you gasp, back arching, chasing the stretch of him. "don't stop."

he groans, smiling as he leans in, grip tightening around the backs of your thighs like he's remembering the way you take him.

he hooks your legs over his shoulders, raising your hips, driving into you deeper, grinding down harder against that spot.

you sob, body tensing, and his hips never slow, even as you flush and start to break a sweat.

"god, look at you," he rasps. "fuck, i missed this. missed splitting you open like this."

"please—fuck, please—"

one hand grips the sheets, the other clinging to his arm, nails digging in.

"suguru, please—"

"is that it, baby?" he murmurs. "this what you need?"

your hips roll, trying to meet his, and then his hand slides under your back, lifting you completely off the bed, his other arm locking around your thigh.

"fuck," you whine, "please, please—"

he growls, his hips snapping into yours, fucking you in earnest, the pressure building, overwhelming, almost too much.

his hand slides between you, fingers circling your clit, and then—

"fuck—yes, yes—"

the sound that rips from your throat is strangled, broken as heat courses through you.

you writhe in his grip, but he doesn't let up, even as your vision blurs, even as your whimpers break, helpless and overwhelmed.

You're shaking and gasping, but he only drags it out.

he groans, deep and satisfied. "fuck, look at you."

he leans into you, pinning you against the headboard, grip persistent as he fucks you deeper, filling every inch of you.

he kisses you, swallowing your gasps, his tongue sweeping over yours, hot and needy.

his fingers tighten in your hair, tugging hard enough to make you gasp.

"fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good."

your hands fist in the sheets, then the headboard, then his hair, trying to hold on, trying to ground yourself.

"suguru, fuck—too much, it's too much—"

"give me another."

his voice is a low growl, rough with need, as he fucks you harder, deeper, until tears slip down your cheeks.

"can you do that? can you give me one more?"

he slams into you relentlessly, burying his face in your neck, sucking a mark into your skin.

"fuck, i know you can. come on, baby, one more."

you whimper, hips jerking, pleasure knotting too tight, too fast—

"there it is."

your body seizes, pleasure hitting so hard it's almost painful.

your body shakes, overwhelmed, the pleasure cresting, spiraling higher, higher, until you feel it snap.

it hits you all at once, a sudden, unstoppable, liquid heat soaking him, your entire body trembling with it.

"fuck, baby, look at you," suguru groans, eyes hungry as he watches you spill down your thighs and onto him.

his rhythm stutters for a second, a deep moan breaking from his lips, and then he keeps going.

his fingers press into your overstimulated clit, toying, stroking, making sure you feel every second.

"so fucking perfect for me," he grunts. "always so fucking perfect."

your body shakes, thighs tightening around his waist, fingers digging into his skin, frantic for something to hold onto.

"i—i can't, suguru—fuck, please—"

he growls, a strangled sound, and his hips stutter, and then he's cumming too, spilling deep inside you, hot and wet as his body tenses against yours.

"fuck—" his breath pauses, his body trembling.

a quiet whimper falls from him as his hips grind into yours, working himself through it, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until he's spent.

for a moment, there's nothing but heavy breathing, the scent of sweat and sex, the muffled thrum of the party still going on downstairs.

and then he shifts, lifting his head, his lips seeking yours unhurriedly.

he's still inside you, somehow still hard, still moving.

his lips brush against your jaw, heat twisting in his voice. "again," he murmurs, a plea.

your thighs twitch and his grip tightens, keeping you open as he presses deeper.

"please, angel. again."

you whimper, and he kisses you, coaxing your lips open, teasing.

"that's it, baby. one more."

he kisses you again, serious and demanding, moving his hips against you, pulling more sounds from you. your body is oversensitive, eyes still wet, every nerve strung tight.

you break away, panting, breathless, and then his mouth brushes your neck, nuzzles your jaw. you go rigid, your pulse thrumming through your ears, coming apart around him.

his smirk presses against your skin, licking his lips before his tongue sweeps over your throat, tasting the salt of your tears.

"good girl," he breathes against your temple, a kiss pressed there.

your body twitches, breath stuttering between soft, broken whimpers as you lay your head against him.

he watches you, his violet eyes heavy-lidded, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips.

"fuck, look at you," he breathes, voice low, like he's committing this to memory.

his hands never leave you as he lays you down, thumbs smoothing over the new marks on your thighs, tracing absent circles into your skin.

your body is still trembling, remnants of pleasure flickering beneath your skin, and he traces every shudder with his gaze, like he's mapping you in his mind again.

"so pretty like this."

his voice is low, almost lazy, but there's something else there.

something that feels like possession.

his fingers drag down, tracing the mess between your thighs, pressing in, spreading it.

you jolt, gasping, your body too sensitive.

"shh, baby," he soothes, pressing a kiss to the damp skin of your throat, "you can take it."

his fingers slide in slow, curling against that spot that steals your breath away, makes your entire body go weak.

"suguru—"

"just one more, baby" he hums, pleased.

you shake your head, a weak protest that he doesn't believe for a second.

his lips brush against your jaw, his voice warm and unshaken against your skin.

"you always say that," he reminds you, slipping another finger in, stretching you further, "and then you always give me exactly what i want."

your breath stutters, pleasure rushing back too fast, too sharp.

"there we go," he murmurs, slow and smug, savoring it.

his fingers fuck into you, deep and lazy, his thumb circling your clit slowly. your hips twitch, breath catching on a sharp gasp.

"suguru, i—i can't—"

"yes, you can, baby."

his voice is softer now, low and insistent, guiding you through it.

"one more, angel. take your time."

you clench around his fingers, body tensing, the pleasure burning too hot, but he doesn't stop.

"let go for me, baby. give it to me."

his lips ghost over yours, a breath away from a kiss, and his fingers work you at the same pace, never slowing, never picking up. the consistency pushes you past your breaking point.

your entire body tightens, then shatters.

you cum with a dragged-out moan, your orgasm caressing you slowly as your hands fist the sheets, clawing at him, holding on for dear life.

"fuck, that's it," he praises, voice thick with satisfaction, watching you fall apart for him again.

his fingers slow, easing the pressure but never leaving, letting you shudder against him, guiding you down steadily.

when you finally melt into the mattress, boneless, he slips his fingers from you, bringing them into his mouth, tasting the mess he's made of you.

his eyes hold yours the entire time. "taste just like you always did."

you don't have the energy to react, not even enough to glare at him.

his hands are gentle now, soothing, gliding over your skin, tracing the rise and fall of your breath, smoothing over every lingering tremor.

"breathe, angel" he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, voice softer now, "i got you."

you barely register it, too wrecked to process anything beyond the warmth of him, the steady weight of him, the way he takes care of you after leaving you in ruins.

his fingers smooth through your hair, slow and repetitive, like he's grounding you, or maybe himself.

you want to say something, but his fingers skim your back, and the words never come.

for now, you let him pull you in, let him tuck you against his chest, let yourself disappear into the warmth of him. just for a little while.

your body is useless. your limbs won't move, muscles heavy, your skin buzzing.

suguru feels it instantly.

"come on," he murmurs, voice softer now, smoothing a hand over your spine.

he shifts like he's about to move you, and you whimper, too tired to resist, too spent to open your eyes.

"shh, it's okay." his arms slide under you, strong and careful, and he lifts you effortlessly.

you don't fight it. can't even think about it. instinct takes over, your head falling into the crook of his neck, your arms slack over his shoulders.

"you're okay," he breathes, arms tightening. he carries you through the dim room, past the lingering heat, into the connecting bathroom.

the soft click of the bathroom light floods your senses—too bright, too much, making you whimper and turning your face into his neck.

"i know, baby," he murmurs, stepping inside, the door clicking shut behind him.

his fingers skim your thighs as he sets you down, easing you onto the closed toilet lid and steadying you.

you sway a bit and he exhales a slow chuckle, amused, but there's something delicate beneath it. his hands hold your waist, keeping you upright.

"just lean on me."

so you do.

his hands work with practiced ease, sliding between your legs and cleaning you up with slow, careful strokes.

you squirm, a jolt of overstimulation making you whimper, your body threatening to fold in on itself.

"shh, angel," he soothes, pressing a kiss to your temple. "i know. almost done."

you sigh against him, boneless, pliant, sinking into his touch.

he finishes, tosses the towel aside, then shifts, lifting you again, pulling you to your feet.

"tired?" he murmurs, smirking when your only answer is a breathy hum.

he presses a kiss to your forehead. "let's get you back to bed, angel."

you don't protest.