#also this is only the second time ive made my own press ons

[purpldawne]

new nails bc i deserve it

[fenfyre]

The Beast In His Bones - Part IV

Part I

"Tell me more, Chil. Tell me about all the ways you want me to use you." The low rumble of his voice left the hairs along Chilchuck's neck prickling in the best way.

"I want you ... to use my mouth", he admitted after a short breath, still not able to look up again. "Want you to stuff it full ... and fuck it ... and barely let me breathe. No matter how much I squirm and whine..."

Laios reached up with one hand then, brushing curious fingertips against Chilchuck's lips who opened up willingly. Two fingers pushed into his mouth, salty sweet, pressing down against his tongue and sliding all the way to the back of Chilchuck's throat.

"Like this?", Laios asked as he pushed deeper, slowing down as Chilchuck gagged around the intrusion. But not stopping. Allowing him to get used to the pressure, to relax the back of his throat. "Hmm, yes. You love it when I force your throat open with my cock. Do you want to be all nice and spread out for me? With your head hanging off the edge of the bed so I can use your mouth?"

Chilchuck let out a heated whimper that was cut short when Laios pushed his fingers deeper, sliding them right down Chilchuck's throat. He gagged again, the sound of it wet and desperate.

"Do you want to get all light headed when I decide I need relief more than you need air?"

Chilchuck felt himself throb hard and heavy and he could swear he was already getting light headed even though it had barely been a few seconds. With how close they were pressed together Laios must have felt him twitch and he rolled his hips up into Chilchuck's again, pressing their hard lengths together.

The fingers remained where they were for a moment longer, almost long enough to make Chilchuck's heart flutter with an edge of panic, before he pulled them back out, slow and careful. Thick spit was clinging to them, drawing strands between the fingertips and Chilchuck's lips as he coughed, eyes watery and hands shaking.

"Fuck, Laios", he croaked and then watched, wide eyed and frozen, as Laios sucked the fingers between his own lips to gleefully clean Chilchuck's spit away. The sight made his stomach lurch and his cock twitch again. Laios only hummed, smacking his lips as he was finished.

"What else do you want, Chil?", he asked, as if any of this was normal. "Do you want to struggle? Try to escape and find out you can't?"

Their hips had taken up a steady rocking movement by now, grinding together in slow, even motions. For a moment Chilchuck was caught in the teasing grind and the image Laios' words painted for him. Imagined himself squirming and kicking, imagined Laios holding him down with ease. Then his eyes focused again, confused.

"Wait ... why are you so good at this? How do you know that?"

As if having been caught a cheeky smile snuck onto Laios' lips and the feverish heat dusted across his face and down his neck darkened.

"Ah ... well you're not the only one wondering what it would be like ... to be held down by someone ... something ... much larger and stronger than yourself..."

For a moment those words just hovered between them as Chilchuck blinked up at Laios. Then everything fell into place. Of course. He almost laughed, giddy relief flooding his body, replacing the cowering remains of doubt and shame. If there was anyone uniquely equipped to understand just what Chilchuck wanted out of this it had to be Laios. At the same time a shudder ran down his spine, his cock throbbing heavy where it rubbed up against Laios' through the fabric.

Reaching down with one hand he began unbuttoning Laios' breeches.

"Take them off right now."

But instead of following the demand the way Laios usually did when they fell into bed together, large hands came down to cover his own, stopping the motions.

"I ... I'd love to", Laios stammered, breathless and still deeply flushed when Chilchuck looked up at him in confusion. "But I ... also really want to talk about this. And I don't want you to say anything you'll regret, like last night. So maybe ... maybe we shouldn't..."

Chilchuck fell entirely still at those words, staring at Laios incredulously. For some reason his cock gave another heavy throb at being denied. He had never considered Laios being this hot when he was being responsible, of all things. Then he deflated with a huff that made Laios stammer again.

"I-I'm sorry! But I ... need you to tell me about this because you want to ... not because you can't think anymore."

Even though one part of Chilchuck still wanted to climb the man, now even more so than before, another, stronger part of him could admit that Laios was on to something. If they really wanted to try anything like this they needed to discuss it at least somewhat level-headed. As hard as pulling back now was.

But they were still pressed closely together and Chilchuck was happy to wrap his arms around Laios' neck and slip even closer. At least this had to still be allowed.

"You're right", he admitted as Laios arms found their way around him, one circling his waist, the other hand cupping his ass to tip him forward. "Gods, you are distracting sometimes..."

"Sorry", the word was warm against his lips and tasted of mint when they kissed, slow and deep and hot. The feverish heat crawling across Chilchuck's skin cooled down to a gentle simmer, the air between them still buzzing but with less urgency. After they parted from their indulgent kiss Chilchuck had made his peace with holding back. For now.

"Alright", he hummed, tilting back just enough so he could look at Laios. The slow, even grind of his hips did not stop. "What else do you want to know?"

"Anything you want to tell me. Like ... where would you want it to happen? Right here? On this bed?"

The images were immediate and vivid, Laios pushing his face down into these very sheets Chilchuck had fisted helplessly last night, pushing into him without care or mercy. But something about the fantasy was off.

"No...", he mumbled, still trying to find his reasoning. Then it occurred to him. "Too many people. I want to be loud. I want to scream..."

"Oh, yes..." The sigh was dreamy, Laios' gaze softening as he looked at Chilchuck, as if he were already imagining his helpless struggle. His shouts and screams and whimpers. "Somewhere secluded, then. Somewhere nobody can come and help you..."

~

Part V

[robynstumpytail]

Weblena Week 2024 Day 7: Free Day - Remix Day

hey yall! last minute entry to weblena week! ive been having a lot of fun keeping up with it, so heres an excerpt from a weblena fanfic ive been working on abt lena's mental health and growth through the series for the free day. this is the last part, the most explicitly shippy, taking place after the end of the series. its my first time publishing my own fanfic, so i hope u like it!!

The fire crackled. Lena sat on her couch across from it, watching it flicker back and forth. It was the only light in the room. It had been years since she last saw Magica, longer since the worst of her control. Still, old habits die hard. Every time Lena thought she saw movement in the shadows, red eyes flickering in the dark, she reflexively checked to make sure she was alone. She always was, but still. She took a sip of her hot chocolate and sank deeper into the sofa.

Her ears pricked at the sound of the door unlocking, then the door opening. “Lena! I’m home!” Webby’s voice called, one room away.

“I’m in here!” she called back, not taking her vision away from the flame. Only when she saw a flash of movement did she look. This time, it was Webby, standing in the doorway. Despite the shadows, Lena could still make out her furrowed brows, the concern in her eyes.

“Everything alright?” she said, sitting down next to Lena. Lena waited for Webby to notice the mug on the coffee table and take a sip as she gathered her thoughts.

“Yeah, just thinking,” Lena said. She paused as Webby wrapped her arms around her in a cuddle. Of course, Lena reciprocated, giving Webby a kiss on the top of her head before continuing. “I started imagining what would happen if you and I hadn’t met. I don’t even remember what triggered it. Something stupid, like maybe an online quiz. But then I just got stuck in there, thinking about how long I would’ve been with Magica and how she would’ve hurt me. It started feeling more and more real, like you were actually gone. So…” she trailed off, motioning with her mug to the fireplace. Webby knew about the ways in which they grounded her; she didn’t need an explanation.

Webby started rubbing Lena’s arm. “Okay. First off, you know that you can call me about this stuff any time, right?”

“Sure,” Lena said. “But you were coming home soon enough. Plus, I called Violet when it started. She helped.”

“Oh, awesome! Second,” she said, drawing back enough to look Lena in the eye. She hoped that her tear stains weren’t obvious, “That’s never going to happen. I’m right here, and I always will be.”

“I know,” Lena said. She squeezed Webby tighter, trying to commit it to memory. Webby’s here, Webby’s here, Webby’s here. They sat like that for a minute before Lena couldn’t resist chiming in, “Unless you find an artifact that changes the past or something.”

“Lena,” Webby groaned. “That’s not the point.”

Lena knew Webby was right. Lena also knew that she was right. “Which one is it?”

Webby paused for a minute, clearly fighting something her instincts. “...The Wall Flower of Bielefeld, but still!” Lena laughed, and Webby quickly joined in. She quickly got serious again. “Even if that does happen, I’ll find you again. I always will.”

Lena got choked up and started to feel her eyes water as she pressed into Webby’s shoulder. “I love you, Webby,” she said.

“I love you too, Lena,” she responded. They sat like that for who knows how long. Lena wasn’t counting. All that mattered was that she was with Webby. Passionate, lovable, caring, genuine Webby. She was safe.

After however much time had passed, she asked Webby, “So how was your adventure with the triplets?”

“Oooh! It was awesome! First of all, they love the bracelets you made! Second, Dewey has gotten way better at flying. He only crashed…” As Webby kept talking and Lena started to drift asleep, comfortable in her arms, she saw red flash out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t bother checking if it was Magica. It didn’t matter. Only this moment, right now, mattered.

[ruiniel]

Remember

Fandom: Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba

Pairing: Kokushibō x fem!Reader

Chapter Count: 1.5K

Rating: 🔞

Chapter tags & warnings: Sengoku period flashbacks, Hurt No Comfort, POV Tsugikuni Michikatsu, POV Second Person, Blood Drinking

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VIII - Part IX

On AO3

Author note

Daisho: typically a set depicted as a katana and wakizashi (or a tanto) mounted in matching fittings

VII.

He runs a hand down the horse’s mane. “Soon, friend.” He considered not taking a mount at first, but given the need, it might be a significant addition. Michikatsu thinks of the recent days, all of which have marked the final preparations for departure. He does not know the demon hunters’ location, but Yoriichi agreed to meet at a spot familiar to both of them and go from there.

A heaviness presses on him: the inevitable worries that come with leaving a household behind for an indefinite period. He shakes his head. Determination was always a chief quality of his, or so his parents had often said. When one reaches a decision, one must follow through. 

Two more tasks left. He leaves the stable behind, crossing the courtyard. Already he’s donned his travel clothing, and all that’s left to take is inside. 

He raises his head; the thought dies when he sees you. 

You’re walking towards him, carrying something. Michikatsu swallows his regret, facing you and returning your greeting with a slight bow of the head. 

As you stand before him, he sees the objects you carry: a daisho set. 

“My husband,” you murmur with eyes downcast; your face looks tired—he’s not been to your bedroom in weeks, and now wonders whether he should have, if only to urge you to take some rest.  

“Hisami. Where are you taking your father’s swords?” He keeps his voice from trembling with some success. 

Without a word, you raise the weapons with both hands open, palms up, with their edge towards you and the hilts to his right—a customary sign of trust. “Please. I want you to have them.”

Michikatsu stares. The weapons have been in your family for over a century and are an heirloom since your father passed. The matching ebony scabbards are decorated with mother-of-pearl inlay, and he knows the sword smith who made the blades was an artisan of the craft. 

He sighs and places a hand on your shoulder, the other over the cold, lacquered scabbards. “I have my own. You know this.”

“Please take them.”

Your voice is calm on the words, but he knows you, senses what lies beneath. His grip tightens on your shoulder. “They belong with you. I would like you to keep them safe… until next time. Will you do that?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes squeezing shut, wrapping your arms around the set as though hanging onto an anchor at sea. “Michikatsu…” Slowly, you lean forward, with his hand still on your shoulder bringing you closer until your forehead rests against his chest. “Until next time,” you repeat, muffled against his kimono. 

“Yes,” he says, believing it wholeheartedly.

A wind brings with it a gust from outside, dispersing the heavy warmth settling in the room.

“...help?” You move away, watching as he drags himself and props his back against the wooden frame of the fusuma panel.

Between the fresh corpse bloodying your floor and him, you can’t tell which looks worse. 

“Yes… for this…” He points at the gash adorning his throat, then closes his eyes, hands falling lifeless in his lap. 

You pick up the sword again. “Who… What was that? Did you bring it here?”

He shakes his head. “What would I have to gain by sending another demon to your doorstep?” 

“How should I know?! You…” The blade shakes in your hands. “And what happened to you? What do you want?” 

He grits his teeth, barely maintaining an upright position against the wood. He must’ve consumed much of his strength earlier. “I’ve not told you how we die.”

A sigh leaves you, physical exhaustion making itself felt as the turmoil from earlier dissipates. Slowly, you also sink to the ground, careful to avoid the severed remains. 

He speaks of sunlight, or removing the head. But then…

“You can’t do anything this way, can you? You can’t die, but… you can’t function, either.” 

As the conclusion leaves your mouth, he nods, reopening his eyes. “I will be brief. Your blood…” he pauses, hands clamped into fists at his sides. “It is a rare kind, and very potent.”

“You came all the way here to take more of my blood?!” It sounds ridiculous, but he looks frighteningly serious about it. 

“To ask for it,” he says, “this time.”

True, before, it was you who offered, which leaves little in the way of a moral high ground here. It was the manner in which he did it, though, which caused your resentment and wariness. “And what if I refuse?”

He closes his eyes again. “There is nothing I can do…” and to prove a point, he tries to rise and fails. 

You stare at the amount of blood drying on his clothing… You’re no medical expert, but it looks as though anyone else would have bled out a long, long time ago. You shift closer, crossing your legs as you sit across from him. “Maybe you miscalculated. You’ve just told me the certain ways in which I can be rid of you. What makes you think I won’t use those methods instead?”

It’s difficult watching him in this state. It gnaws at you like a new disease, but the situation has all the making of a nightmare, and you desperately need some control. But, how? 

“Hah…” his eyes are red slits as he speaks. “You… are no killer. But I am. And rather than seeking to absorb a number of humans… a feat I’m incapable of, in this state...” he makes a gesture with his hand as though to say ‘here we are’.

This proud, aloof manner, even when so grievously injured, is enraging. “You’re a… a monster!”

Composed, he wipes blood off his lower lip. “Of course I am. What have I been telling you all this time?”

You hang your head. But then… in hindsight, many lives in exchange for a portion of blood seems not as wicked a choice as the alternative. 

Or you could let the daylight take him. 

I can’t. “How do I know you won’t kill me once you’ve regained yourself?”

The demon tilts his head, offering you the remnant of another smile. It looks so out of place on his pale, drawn face. A full-body tremor runs through you. “Have I ever tried to before, when I would have succeeded so easily?”

A side of you hates the way this ordeal is thrust upon you, while the other pushes the urge to get this over with. “Fine.”

No reaction. “... but?” he asks.

“But,” you gesture towards him. “Two conditions. One, you leave and never return here after this.”

He snorts. “You need not worry about that.”

“Two,” you continue, “... this time, we do things my way.” And saying so, you rise to stand even as he looks up at you, uncomprehending. Having a shred of advantage steels some courage.

With one foot, you nudge at his shoulder. He relents, sliding down onto his back on the floor. He narrows his eyes as you grasp your sword with one hand, but makes no comment. 

After a moment’s hesitation, you sigh, pointing the blade at him. “Sit still,” you demand, descending to your knees and moving to sit atop him, thighs grasping his middle. Will this be enough? What else to do but try? The sharp edge of your blade goes to his throat.

A low, guttural groan escapes his lips, but nothing else. His body stays cold and still beneath you except for each labored breath filling the silence.

“Now, slowly,” you say, baring your left arm and slashing at your wrist with the blade. There is pain, but the excitement from earlier must have made you less sensitive to it.

You lean over, your right hand again holding the sword fast at his throat. “Here,” you lower your bleeding wrist to his lips, closing your eyes.

Shaking fingers wrap around your forearm, holding it still. As warmth gently envelops the wound, you feel a familiar sensation, but no great discomfort.

You hiss as he feeds, his grip tightening as time passes. You feel more pressure—his free hand has settled heavily on your right thigh as though to keep you there.

 “S-stop… enough!” Your blade digs deeper into his throat before dizziness envelops your body completely.

The hold on you slackens as you open your eyes, rising to your feet as fast as you can—which, admittedly, is not very fast. You nearly trip over the other body. 

Did it work? You stare at him, but there seems to be no improvement, apart from his chest rising and falling in a faster tempo. You say nothing as he stares back—not at you, but at the sword in your hand.

The expression is as peculiar as that first night you met, tinged with forgetfulness and guilt. “Thank you…”

You choose not to respond. Sometimes, silence is best.

He lies there, unable or unwilling to rise. His own weapon is still abandoned on the floor some distance away. “You…” He says something else, but it’s difficult to grasp his words.

“What?”

“... need not clean… those remains… you will see.”

You can barely bring yourself to consider the scattered blood and flesh behind you. “What are you saying?”

His voice fades, barely audible. “When morning comes… let the daylight in.”

Part VIII

[jasper-is-autistic-old-blog]

howdy! today i wanna talk about the aac system i use and go over how i use it

im currently using the app Coughdrop on an Amazon Kindle Fire 7. the version from 2022 i believe, which i think is the most recent. it was the least expensive new tablet i could get.

it's in a foam case that looks like Spiderman! i chose all black because it's unobtrusive and goes with my aesthetic but it was also available in red with black eyes and some other colors

i currently use a board called vocal flair 112. i previously used quick core 112 and this is similar, but has a built in on screen keyboard. which means i get less buttons on the home page but it's fine because i found myself pulling up the keyboard frequently to fill in the gaps even with that many buttons.

here's a screenshot, i haven't edited this page, i just use it as the default:

i don't actually make it speak aloud often when im out in public. the person with me who's supporting me (usually my mom) reads my screen if i need to talk to someone else. this is almost purely out of anxiety. the fear that someone will not hear me the first time, that they wont listen or won't understand, that someone will overhear a robotic voice and stare, etc. but it's an improvement over my previous method of texting my mom, pointing at menus, and mumbling or whispering until i either gave up or she finally managed to hear me.

i use this feature in coughdrop to have her read the screen:

it's found under the "repeats" section. it makes a large button you can press to voice the selection or you can have someone else read it.

i also quickly wanted to show my two "advocacy" boards. one is a premade board that ive edited and the second is made by me from scratch. i think im going to combine them eventually, but ive been lazy about it

these don't reflect my current "public use" pronouns, but that's fine.

my speech has always been pretty intermittent and unreliable in some situations, but more recently ive experienced some skill regression that makes it harder than ever to use verbal speech. even when relaxed and comfortable, typing or using aac is easier for me. and when even slightly stressed or overwhelmed or even overly happy or excited, it's very hard to impossible to get any words out.

im hoping to get better about actually using the voice feature instead of showing people my screen. the only time ive ever actually used aac to communicate with a stranger i showed them my screen. i have a lot of anxiety about not being heard which im sure comes from the fact that my voice doesn't always work and that's pretty scary at times. it seems im both afraid of not being heard and being heard but being made fun of or dismissed. im not sure what would be worse.

anyway, sorry for the anxiety tangent.

im hoping to get a strap for the case soon so it's easier to carry around. i tend to have several things with me at all times, my phone, talker, Nintendo switch, my small backpack, and a stim toy or comfort item. it's nice when i manage to cut back on what im carrying and it works out well, but sometimes i just need all those things to get through a situation.

i don't actually own the coughdrop app. im using a free version. it times out after about 15 minutes and you have to exit and enter again, as well as other premium features not being available. i was hoping to eventually save up for it but the price has increased recently to the point where it is out of my budget. maybe if i get a job eventually? even then im not sure if i can justify the cost. the monthly price also went up, which sucks. c'est la vie.

if you have any questions at all, im happy to try to answer! inbox or ask box or reblogs or anything works.

thanks for reading!

[whump-a-la-mode]

I’ve had this in my brain for a while now and may eventually write something on it but your welcome to have a crack.

Whumpee is tied to a chair, their blood slowly being drained as whumper is tasked with getting info from them. Over time whumpee feels the effects, it’s up to you to decide if they give the info or not.

I just love the reverse blood transfusion vibes idk

This is such an interesting prompt, and I really hope that you like what I came up with! I might be willing to continue this as well, if there is enough interest. I leaned a bit away from the pure interrogation theme and made this more into a hero villain piece, but I hope you like it nonetheless.

Also Tumblr updated their text editor and I Do Not Like It.

Given the subject matter that this piece entails, reader discretion is advised. There is very very minimal mention of needles, nor is there any mention of the IV being placed, only some minor description of the IV itself. However, there is a great deal of discussion of blood. Please be aware of this.

CW//Blood, childhood bullying, isolation, natural disasters, superhero-typical violence, medical themes, gaslighting, delirious narrator

Whumpee's blood was special.

They'd always been told that. They'd discovered it when they were young, of course, when cuts and scrapes from running and playing magically stitched themselves back together within moments. They'd only heard the word 'powers' in the second grade, when some particularly reckless soccer-playing had resulted in a broken arm and a trip to the hospital. Of course, by the time they arrived, the limb that mended itself together flawlessly.

They'd never wanted to be a superhero. Not many in their position did. Yet, it did not take long for the ostracization to become too great to bear. The only place for a freak, after all, was among those of their own kind.

So, they'd become a hero. Of course, they were never the one dominating headlines. Nothing about Whumpee's powers was flashy, not like Leader, not like the ones that could shoot fire from their hands or fly.

Admittedly, they'd never really minded. Notoriety brought danger. They'd seen several of their own teammates fall, yet, they always stayed standing. It was easy to stay out of the line of fire when they were always on the ground, evacuating civilians, distracting henchmen, letting the real heroes do their work.

No one cared about the littlest member of the bunch. They barely ever made it into the press photographs, even. Sometimes, they were simply hidden behind another hero, too short to be seen. More often, they were off somewhere else, digging injured civilians from building rubble. After all, there was little risk to them entering a collapsing building. Any injuries would be healed by the time they found their target.

For a superhero, they had quite a peaceful life.

Capture wasn't exactly unheard of for those engaged in superheroics. The more important heroes had training for it; what to do in captivity, how to act, how to get help, how to withstand torture.

Not the youngest, though. Why would Whumpee ever need something like that? They were home every night for dinner.

Why would anyone ever want the youngest. Why would anyone ever want-

"It's extremely potent." Whumper spoke, voice echoing through the small room as they ran a hand over Whumpee's arm. They couldn't help but squirm under the touch; Whumper's hands were terribly cold. "But there's only so much we can do with remnants."

Whumpee allowed their wide-eyed gaze to look upwards, gazing upon their tormentor. The stranger wore a mask over their face, gloves over their hands, and a wicked smile in their eyes. Whumpee did not know them, but they certainly knew Whumpee.

They barely remembered the night before. They'd been walking home after a fight downtown. Of course, they usually rode home with their team, but the hospital had needed help with triage. It'd been a late night, and they were ready to curl up in their bed and go to sleep.

Then, there had been headlights, men from the alley, a needle in their neck-

Whumpee had woken up in the chair. It was a faulty imitation of comfort, a dentist's chair leaned back, providing support for their head, their legs, and holding their arms in place on armrests. Of course, the comfort was only surface level, and was mostly dashed by the straps holding tight every part of their body.

An extra restraint, a straight piece of plastic, held their right arm uncomfortably straight, keeping them from twisting away. Their right arm, of course, was notable in another way-- That was where the IV had been placed, a clear tube run red flowing from their vein into a collection vessel nearby.

They tried not to look. It was terribly hard not to look.

How much had been taken already? The tube was thin, but it was solid in its red color, and the vial was already filling up quite a lot...

The very thought made them queasy. Was the pressure behind their eyes from fear or blood loss?

"Obviously, the best way to collect what we need is, well, from the source." Whumper's smile could be inferred, even behind their mask. "But you're not just here for that."

They disappeared for a moment, leaving Whumpee's extremely limited field of view completely. When they returned, they were sitting at Whumpee's side on a wheeled stool, leaning slightly forwards.

"Do you know what your blood can do, Whumpee?"

Whumpee stared up at the ceiling, leather strap digging into their forehead. They could barely see their assailant in their peripheral vision. A bead of sweat rolled from their forehead to their neck, making them shiver.

"It- It heals me." They tried. That was obvious information, right? Anyone with Google or a TV tuned to the news channel could find out Whumpee's power, it wasn't exactly secret.

"It heals you, yes. Do you think that's all it does?"

"I don't-"

"You've saved more lives than you could ever realize, Whumpee."

"What are you talking about?"

Whumper grinned again. Whumpee was getting a terrible sense of vertigo.

"Samantha Walker, 59, a mother with two children." Whumper began. "A delivery worker. Her visit to the Anderson office building was meant to be short. She never even signed in. When the building fell, no one knew to look for her."

Whumpee tried to think back to the Anderson rescue mission, the names. They'd been going off of employee records, who had clocked in for the day. They'd found them all...

"You had left without her. She had been struck in the jugular by sharp debris. She was dying, until she laid down in a patch of your blood.

It healed her. She managed to find help and escaped unscathed.

Did you know about her?"

"N-No."

"What about Dennis Knelson? You searched the whole Washington complex for him, but he was nowhere to be found. You stayed on the search till midnight, but never found anything.

The floor had collapsed beneath him. He'd fallen into the sewer. When the cleanup crews came, they washed some of your blood down the storm drain.

It gave him the strength to get up and escape."

"My-"

"Shelby Arkansas. A search and rescue worker. You must remember her, don't you? You had to crawl into that cave to save her. A single drop of your blood reinflated her collapsed lung. It was a miracle that you found her uninjured, wasn't it?

She was injured. You saved her.

Do you understand, Whumpee? Do you understand how great your gift is?"

"I didn't know, I-"

Whumper reached forward, placing a frigid hand on their shoulder.

"Shh, it's alright. It's a lot to take in, I know.

There was a research study done recently, by Metropolis University. You know what they found? Out of every hero in your team, you have saved the most lives, by an exponential degree."

"Is that- That why you want my blood?" They'd never known, never tried it on another person... "If you'd let me up, I- I'll donate! As much as I can! I didn't know what it could do- I'm sorry!"

Whumper let out a low chuckle as they brushed Whumpee's sweat-soaked bangs from their face.

"Can you tell me how your team treats you, my dear?"

"My... Team? What about my team?"

"How they treat you. Oh, goodness, are you getting delirious already?"

Whumpee wasn't quite sure of the answer to that one. Their vision was getting blurry, but maybe that had something to do with the glaring spotlight shining down on them, or the terrible headache...

"My team... I love my team..."

"Do you?" Whumper wiped away a tear with their thumb. "Do they love you back?"

"Mhm."

"Is that why they let you walk home alone, in the dark?"

"I was out late-"

"And you weren't even on stage at that benefit."

"I-"

"Do you think they're even looking for you?"

Whumpee knew the answer to that one.

No.

Their team would notice their absence the next time they were needed, and not a moment before. After all, they didn't often train, didn't often hang out with the rest. They were a team member, sure, but...

No, no! Their team cared! Whumpee was just shy, that was all. There was nothing wrong with being shy.

"Of course." Whumpee whispered.

"Is that so? There was quite some hesitation, there. Oh, poor little Whumpee. "You spend quite the time at their base, then, don't you?"

"Mhm. I live there..."

Their tongue felt heavy in their mouth. It was so hard to speak...

The light above was getting dimmer.

"Then you can tell us where it is, can't you?"

"Mm... No, it's... It's secret."

"Secret, yeah? Why's that?"

"Can't tell... Might get attack'd..."

"Well, what does it matter if your team gets attacked? With how terribly they treat you, surely it's exactly what they deserve."

Whumpee weakly yanked on their restraints.

They watched the level of blood in the vial climb higher, higher...

"No. They... They're..."

Whumpee barely noticed as drool began to roll down the side of their cheek. Whumper tapped them a few times in the center of their forehead.

"Come on, Whumpee. You know where it is, just tell us. That's all. Then you can have some water, how does some water sound?"

Water sounded amazing; their mouth was dry and terribly cracked. But- But, no! They couldn't...

"Water... Please..."

"Nuh-uh. Not until you tell us. Now, where were you going? Where were you walking home to? Just tell us, Whumpee."

The vial of blood was nearly filled to its top.

Whumpee's eyes fluttered closed.

"Goodnight. Goodnight sleepytime." They slurred.

Whumper laughed, a low, chortling thing.

"Alright, Whumpee." They brushed their hand through their captive's hair. "We'll talk some more when you're feeling better.

You're going to be a lovely addition to our team."

[starlazergazer]

Hii!! I’m the anon who asked if u had an ao3, and I’m sooo glad I can have all your fics in one PDF thank u so much 🙏 I can quickly pressed the download button so fast. youre genuinely one of my fav anakin fic writers in the entire galaxy (far far away). Your writing is so so gorgeous and complex, and it just feels soooo real—how each person has their own depth—so much thought is put into every word and how it’s framed.

I just read your latest fic, Separated, and my god I SOBBED. It was SO good. I was listening to sad songs too, to get more into the mood, and it made me cry even harder. My heart just dropped out of my body when Reader and Anakin were saying their last words towards each other through the call: they were so emotionally close but so physically far from each other. How they were imagining a different life where everything was more softer and happier, that living handle their souls more gently, when in reality one was killing her, and the other was walking towards a path of destruction? AARAAGGH IM GOING CRAZY WITH YOUR WRITING (COMPLIMENT). I can’t wait to see the second part and how you plan to execute the follow up.

Btw. Do you have any tips on how you can finish writing stories? You write so much and it’s all such high quality. How do you do it? I have so many ideas but I never actually commit to it. I have this idea where Reader is also on par with Anakin’s skills as a mechanic except she gets extreme motion sickness, which I think would be so funny considering she’s good at building ships but not flying them.

(I really hope you’re okay with me posting this I know your first message was sent anonymously so I wasn’t sure but if you’re not definitely just let me know and I’ll get rid of it) but Oh my god I sobbed reading this 😭. Genuinely this is the biggest compliment I’ve ever received and it means so much to me I’m positively overflowing right now and a little upset I cannot find the words to properly express how much this means to me. I already go back through some of the messages Ive received periodically as a little pick-me-up but I already know this one will be revisited weekly it just means so much to me the way you’ve picked up on everything I’ve tried so hard to do well in my writing making the dialog and situations and characters feel real and complex and messy ugghhhhh I love you so much this means the world 🫶🏻

As far as writing tips for finishing stories I have many cause it’s definitely something I struggle with all the time lol! I’d say the biggest thing for me is to focus on just getting something down rather than finishing a certain work. At any one time I have four or five word documents open on my computer because I’m regularly only writing a scene or a piece of dialog or literally just an idea. A lot of the time I get halfway through something and decide I hate it but keep it there anyways. What usually ends up happening though is I take ideas or scenes from all the different pieces and drop them into my “main story” if I think they fit well so it all works out in the end but just writing (even if it’s not related even remotely to what you feel like you “should” write) is ultimately what’s important.

I also regularly skip around when I’m writing. I find I like writing the big plot points or bits of dialogue the most so a lot of the time I write those first then fill in the gaps later. Finishing a story is a lot less daunting when you already have all of the big pieces in place and just need a few tiny bridges to bring everything together.

Lastly I would say again just get something down on the paper. I’ve written a lot of really bad stuff lol and sometimes I can feel it while I’m writing it and there’s a part of me that wants to just delete it and start over but having the ideas down on the page is always 100% better than having nothing and editing the crap out of what you already have is way easier than starting over from scratch.

Anyways that’s probably way more than what you wanted lol but I really hope it helps! I think just remember this is supposed to be fun, if you’re getting frustration or exasperation out of it more than anything totally feel free to take a step back. I’m known to go MIA for months at a time cause I have periods where I just am not feeling it and forcing myself through it does nothing for anyone.

Seriously though thank you thank you thank you I’m so absolutely overjoyed that you like my writing enough to want to keep it in any form it means the absolute world to me! Also good luck with your potential fic! Tag me if/when you finish it! I’ve been wanting to do a mechanic reader fic forever but never gotten far enough into actually planning it out to start writing anything so I’d love to see your take on it

[starry-blue-echoes]

you know i had a thought what if the mafioso that giorno rescued was tonio and when he went to morioh he took giorno with him

*crashes through the wall like the Koolaid Man* ANON YOU READ MY MIND BUT A LITTLE BIT TO THE LEFT. I DONT KNOW IF THIS WAS INTENDED TO BE ITS OWN AU, BUT IVE BEEN MEANING TO DO A POST FOR NEUTRAL GROUND ABOUT THIS EXACT TOPIC SO HEREWEGO-

So Tonio was doing fine. Between the restaurant and Doppio’s boss he was financially stable, he was starting to get more casual customers, and the Gang Member customers were starting to actually respect him! He didn’t have to remind anyone about the No Violence rule, and if someone did try all he had to do was walk out from the kitchen and stare without even saying a word. Heck, it seemed as though a good deal of his customers actually liked him

And then he got shot

He hadn’t even been doing anything. Not really. He was just talking a calm walk when suddenly he’d gotten jumped and shot. Luckily in the scuffle he’d been able to phone Doppio and give a rough location, but it would be far too late by the time help arrived

Or at least….. it should have been

But then a small black haired child with a bowl cut directed his pursuers away without a second thought

He owed that child his life. Every second he spent breathing was thanks to them, and he wished to repay that debt.

Admittedly it did take a couple months to find him. His account of the events was made fuzzy due to blood loss and pain, he hadn’t even gotten a clear view of the kid, and he also had to recover from being shot and nearly bleeding out and the Boss and a few others tracking down the ones who ordered the attack. Plus, as much as he did like Doppio, he wanted to keep the number of favors he owed to Passione at zero thank you very much

But eventually it does happen and he finds Giorno.

And it….. hurts, honestly. Seeing the life this brave, compassionate boy is forced to endure

If he had any actual ties and power in the mafia he might’ve been able to do something about it. He could’ve stopped the other children from being cruel, could’ve stopped the source of those hidden bruises and limps, could’ve given the boy back some flicker of life behind his dulled, broken eyes all while keeping him far out of reach of the mafia that had Tonio in a chokehold

But he can’t do any of that. So instead, he does the only thing he can

He offers Giorno a place to hide. A place where he can eat and rest and be safe for as long as he wanted to stay. Tonio wishes so desperately that he could’ve offered more, could’ve protected him from the things that caused him pain, could’ve done something to stop him from being hurt in the first place…… but he can’t. Not right now. All he can offer is temporary relief. To him, it isn’t enough and that tears him up inside

But to Giorno? To Giorno this is the kindest thing anyone has every done for him. The fact that this person saw him, saw him hurting, and went out of his way to help with nothing to gain?

Giorno couldn’t offer enough thanks

So they settle into a routine together. Giorno will arrive at Tonio’s after school or early in the morning on weekends and stay until sunset. There’s a reserved booth seat near the back where he can sit and do his school work or color, and Tonio will bring him food if he asks. If it’s a slow day, he’ll even sit with him and the two talk. Tonio never presses about Giorno’s homelife, which Giorno appreciates, but he does notices that his bruises and injuries always disappeared by the time he leaves Tonio’s

But of course, nothing can stay perfect for long.

After nearly a year, Mr.Giovanna finally finds out where his punching bag goes to every day.

And he is not happy

Just like the day Tonio been saved by Giorno, the day had started off as normal. Ordinary. In the long run, easily forgettable.

Yet the second Tonio walked into the dining area, he immediately noticed the large man standing by Giorno’s booth and had a feeling the day was going to take a turn for the worse

His customers knew better than to go near Giorno. They all know he is firmly under Tonio’s care, and even approaching the booth is going to get you stared at.

So, putting on his best Customer Service Smile, he walks over.

At first the man who he assumes is Giorno’s father seems perfectly pleasant. He talks like any other customer, respectfully apologizes for any problems Giorno might’ve caused, and by all means seems like a perfectly normal father

But Tonio had seen the bruises and cuts. Had seen how Giorno would flinch and shrink in on himself whenever anyone raised their voice. Currently saw how lifeless yet terrified Giorno was

And at that moment Tonio makes a decision. How long has he been standing idly by as he’s seen Giorno hurt? How many times has he knowingly allowed Giorno to return to that sorry excuse of a home? How many times has he merely nursed his injuries instead of doing anything to stop it from happening in the first place?

Well no longer

So when Mr.Giovanna tells Giorno it’s time to go home, Tonio stops him. He brings up his “concerns” with a smile that grows a bit sharper.

See, Tonio had done a bit of asking around about Giorno’s father when the boy hadn't been present. Nothing too nosey, just the standard gossip which Tonio gets quite a lot of. He ends up learning that the man wasn't anyone important nor did he have any connections. He was just a simple, ordinary, powerless man

A man who in the long run wouldn’t be able to do anything to Tonio

Mr.Giovanna stiffens. He tries to refute what Tonio says.

But Tonio stands firm and says that he can’t in good faith let Giorno return home. Distantly he realizes how good it felt to finally say it, to finally do something, to finally help

Mr.Giovanna tries to make a grab for Giorno, but Tonio grabs his arm with shocking strength.

Tonio smiles at him with his eyes open and his words balancing on a knife’s edge. “I think it would be best for you to leave :)” he says

And then Mr.Giovanna punches him in the face

It would undoubtedly bruise. Mr.Giovanna was not a small man all things considered, and still a fully grown adult.

But as Tonio catches himself on the booth table….. a realization strikes Mr.Giovanna

It’s dead silent in the restaurant.

The chatter and clicking of silverware that had been present when he’d walked in had halted completely

Every single customer was staring at them

And every single one was not happy

Weapons of all types were in hand. Knives, firearms, silverware, even Stands

Sometimes being neutral felt like a curse, but in this moment? In this moment it meant Tonio had several gangs and individuals backing him

Everyone respected the rules.

The second rule was that you don’t fight at Trattoria Trussardi

The first?

“You’ve broken the rules, Mr.Giovanna.” Tonio speaks, a smile still on his face and his eyes open wide. Only now there was something else to the expression, almost predatory in nature and ready to tear. Him. Apart

You don’t hurt the Chef

That night Tonio asks Giorno a question. Hidden away in a back room of the kitchen right by the door which leads to the stairs to Tonio’s living area

“Do you want to go home?”

Giorno shakes his head.

And the next day, Giorno Giovanna because Giorno Trussardi

[sizzleissues]

I had a night of surreal dreams, I'll tell you about two of them as best I can remember.

The tamer one I was in my friends house for a party. It was time to leave but someone had moved my shoes. I searched through the house, ready to cry, but only managed to find everything but my shoes. I overheard the parents talking about moving them - but they didn't say to where. I because distraught at the idea I wouldn't be able to leave. All the while an old friend of mine haunted the house, spooking me and the parents. I became convinced she had stolen them, and now I couldn't move on. There wasn't really a resolution but she revealed it was all a practical joke, standing on edge of the backdoor, and I saw everyone else I know standing just beyond her in the gardens. She let me leave, crossing through, and I lay in the sun with my friends and recounted what had happened and how I was glad I felt more sure of things now.

The next was stranger still. I was sometimes the main character, sometimes an observer, sometimes the support. It continued on from the previous dream, now with the realisation I'd died in some way. I wasn't myself any longer and I instead became someone who could see the dead. I saw the person I was, stood in this cold dingy room, flushed with fluorescent lighting that made everything a ghostly green. I was stood inside my apartment, and behind me was my new girlfriend. She teased me about not showing off my abilities and asked me to step through the barrier. I pressed my face right to the membrane that divided reality and my visions, which was on the door frame and as I turned to check on my girlfriend, she took the appearance of the person who'd died. I was afraid, realising I'd confused them. My girlfriend then stepped up to the barrier when I refused and pressed her face to it. I saw what she saw, the same dingy room, old pipes jutting from the ceiling, a puddle from a leak. It freaked her out how cold it was. Time flew forward and I watched myself and a new girlfriend stand at the door. I once again showed her my power but became too afraid to cross it as her face flashed through every previous partner I'd had. She wasn't as weak, breaking through the membrane and walking into the room. She didn't seem to see it the way I did, and while it was empty in my eyes bar her, she exclaimed when she saw her aunt and her grandparents.

i followed her in, appearing as a ghostly spectre while she was realising and solid. I admonished her for stepping through, she didn't have my ability and so she had died upon crossing. She didn't believe me, but I felt the temperature rise and outside barred windows I saw hell burning. She finally understood, crying she hadn't been that bad of a person. A second door appeared and opened, swallowing her whole.

I returned to my apartment, now seeing myself lying on the couch. I told her she had to tell them the full truth, that her brain meddled and mashed their faces together when she stood that close to death. She refused.

now of course ive slightly edited them because... Really were too buckwild. The second one I was never really a consistent character so its tricky to explain. Once I was someone new, the face of the person I had been tended to be someone from real life, someone famous or a peer for example. Also the place the woman who crossed the barrier went to was in fact gay hell and I notes that all gay people ended up there. So like... Obviously that isn't reflective of my actual beliefs. I do remember that it wasn't as bad as actual hell and it simply was just been subjected to Taylor Swift is gay essays and twitch words.

Two I didn't mention that I also dreamt was one where the entirety of humanity was turned into deers as punishment. Except we first started off as grotesque hands with claws that couldn't speak and sometimes ate our own children because they'd fall into our mouths??? Then we evolved into deer and participated in a race of sorts to evolve back into humans. Some people relearned how to speak, some remained more animalistic. It was strange. In the other I chopped off and then reattached my right arm and had waited slightly too long so my hand didn't properly reattach. I was surprisingly calm about this.

[martianbugsbunny]

Who Makes You See Color (A CaptainCroc Soulmates AU Fic): Chapter 14

*exhales* Alright, sugarcubes (feeling kinda Applejack today) this is the last chapter. It’s a happy ending, rest assured, but it also leaves you free to pick your own future path for them (headcanons for a fic, man, it’s got layers). Although, I am starting to wonder what I could do for a sequel fic, so I could explore what CaptainCroc might do after the Curse is broken, but the point is this chapter is the culmination of the soulmate idea and thus this particular fic.

This is one of my favorite things that I’ve ever done with my one lil braincell and my two hands, and I hope you all have enjoyed it even a fraction of the amount I have. So, without any further rambling on, here’s the grand finale of my CaptainCroc fic! Tags: @wastingstarsss Enjoy!

A wave of light rippled out across Storybrooke. Gold, standing halfway up a hospital stairwell, knew exactly what it meant and forced himself to move at a higher speed, despite the stabs of pain it brought his injured leg.

The last time Rumple had seen that was when Prince Charming woke Snow White from a sleeping curse. It was True Love’s Kiss, and Rumple knew it was enough to break the curse. It must’ve been Swan—it was, after all, her destiny to break the curse.

But Rumple didn’t give a damn about looking in on the Savior. He sped to the room where his soulmate had been lying, his heart pounding. He felt reassured when he realized he could feel both hearts pounding, not just his—Killian was surely awake.

He was right. A nurse and a doctor were trying to restrain him while also attempting to remove the tubes and wires from his body. Killian’s eyes were wide with fear, his hands clenched tightly.

Rumple ran in through the open door, stopping only feet from the bed. Killian saw him instantly, and thrashed against the nurse’s arm.

The doctor had unstrapped him from most of the machines, leaving only an IV, which he made no move to disturb, and the automatic breathing device. He evidently decided that Killian was capable of surviving without that, and he pulled the tube rather unceremoniously from Killian’s throat.

Killian coughed for a few moments, but the first words he spoke were, “Your eyes—are different.”

“I’m not quite the Dark One here,” Rumple said. “This is what color they were when we first met.”

Killian wiped his mouth with his wrist. “I couldn’t see color then,” he said, his voice still hoarse. Brown had seemed such a mediocre color to him, but suddenly he couldn’t look away from it. Roger’s love of Rumple’s eyes was deeply entrenched in him.

It wasn’t just his eyes, though. Rumple was different in this world. He was human, and although it was clear he still had his inner fire, he seemed a little bit softer. Killian had dismissed him, at first, for not having that softness; now, he didn’t think he would care if he didn’t.

“Come over here and kiss me, Rumplestiltskin,” Killian commanded. Rumple didn’t hesitate for a second, limping the few steps to Killian’s beside and throwing himself into Killian’s arms. Rumple settled for kissing Hook’s forehead, and the tip of his nose, and his cheeks, to give him a bit more time to recover.

“I love you, crocodile,” Killian whispered, his breath warm against Rumple’s skin. Rumple had missed that feeling. “I’ve loved you since the Enchanted Forest and I don’t care who knows it now, so long as you do.”

Rumple couldn’t keep himself from smiling. He had waited and longed for those words for hundreds of years—let alone those awful weeks when he was awake and Killian was not. “And I adore you, Killian Jones,” he said. “I would love you in any life, in any world.”

Killian laughed with pure joy. His confusion upon waking was forgotten; there was no room for it. He could ask any question he liked later, but for now? He pressed his lips to Rumple’s, turning onto his side to make Rumple fit more comfortably on the narrow hospital bed.

“Still wearing my ring, crocodile?” Killian teased, taking Rumple’s hand in his. “And you had the audacity to let me believe I was a thief.”

“And who’s got my favorite vest in his houseboat, hm?” Rumple asked. “I’d like that back, dearie.”

Killian’s smile became a little more serious. “Keep the ring, love,” he said. “You’re my soulmate, and the love of my life, and it’s only a matter of time before it winds up back on your hand anyway.”

Rumple’s eyes filled with tears. He knew the curse would be broken, and he knew he and Killian were meant to be together, but he had hardly dared to hope they might actually have their happy ending.

And as a familiar hum of magic began to fill his veins again, he realized his happy ending was indeed within reach. He should’ve known it would be their particular True Love’s Kiss that could restore magic to Storybrooke; it was, after all, his heart’s third desire (after only Bae and Killian).

With magic returned to him, he could find Bae.

With Killian by his side, he could find family again. And nothing, not the Charmings, not Emma Swan, not the universe itself, could stop him.

[solardick]

Ok. You sure?

Tetris was designed by a russian programmer. To combine both words tetra and tennis. Mixing a greek word with a latin word.

Well, well, a day of bs.

And now it starts rainign. Just in time fir the accidentla black mark i made with the photo. I rhink it was me.

Again portents. The First one of doves that played out semi negativly but brought with it awareness of funds. Solidifying the doves relation to venus. Though dince the day started with the craws of crohs. It fits likely. Beyond. That thoughts to further the letter Ё. Have beought me in search for pics of russian noblewomen. And since this post fallows BS and misled informstion. Or misinformation. The photo ive chosen isnt the final pic. But holds a key peivce of information that will be added into the deck, in congruence witb the lover and the flower. It being a fool, will down play the feminine. Which will cause discomforte or unease when seen. Much like the tower does when dirst viewed. This will cause a negative reaction which is the point. Revolt against will play in and this suits the pertulant fool. The damage these women cause needs to be recognized. As a step away from the egoism and divine … cant find the word T moment dtarts with an H? … i dont know its there, i just cant access it right now.

The added fact, or notion of what will be, having the Е and Ё images on opposite sides of the same card would make this difficult not to be pressing on the handlers mind. It would be constantly pressing attention and working repression. One would be pressed to flip the card over. To no avail. As the major arcana are called trumps. Which means by common recognition. A superior power that dominates over another. And thr fool by common game, usually sits as the trump of. Trumps. Though not to all games. Thr olayer in this instance, flipping the card over in attempt to trump it. Is by itself a foolish action.

Though, this may cause somewhat of a problem when it comes to fortune telling. Especially for another party. If this card comes up in a reading. I suspect this particular fool may be taken out of the deck for these purposes. Which just just re-enforces the attention this card would get.

Though, its odd waking with morning wood. Not being now and then on the rate occasions. Little more considtent now. Thsts been like 20 years.

Too bad though i dont have access to adequate medical care. It wven allowed to see a doctor that soeaks my language. Theres no comprehension. After a month of trying i get sent to a guy ehos firsts langague is hindu or arab or whatever, second language is french and who cant speak or understand english. Considering i live 20 minutes from the American boarder. And since they highjacked my life with their own scriot. I experience things on my own side and on their side. It becomes hard to tell which is legitimate and which one is conditioned, ehich also meeans i get hits twice if its a negative experience.

Bought this knife. Of all the language. It doenst come in russian(Ru) made in china, go figure. Not written in chinese either. Considering how much russian influence is apart of the cultural media…..

English utility, seems to be the sole major differnece. Beyond the gr of greek i think it is. Which i cant understand. All the others equals out to universal, multitudinous and utility which all bare the same meaning. But, it stands seperate from the rest of the languages as a utility doesnt suggest its universal or multidudious application. It just suggests that its a tool. Well no shit. I hate english. The only other suggestion when it comes to pure language. Is the letter U. U means everything here. A connection « principle ». One may muse….

Hmm, phonetically russian is closer to most of these other languages than english. Save for that the U gets replaced as the Y. Both being vowels letters. To tarot one suggests something not disclosed and secreted. As U doesnt have a place within consonant and that the Y id related to Judgement. One may see the discouragement of a knife in this manner of a « Trump god » over other people. Instead of a trumpet the angel is holding a knife. Even though utility and universality also suggets a tools function as a weapon…. And the U also suggests in this manner that its the other person holding the knife and not I. While on the elglidh side one may muse the « why » Y. And the curiosity of the qwerty/jcuzen type overlay of the russian letter Й the equilanvent of letter Y) is set on letter Q. Which is the death card. But to english common parlance. There not very many other words that start with Q. That is t queer. Or question. Which isnt do far off from the letter word Y. As one will question sometjing odd.

Sure there are other question words in english. But none that are as simplified into a single letter. As why is the first question asked over the how or what when that questionalble action it self. Isnt directly on the self in question. When they know the how, where, and when. Its only the why that is left over. The fact that the judgement card shows indiciduals or a family and a priesnt or so rising out of the coffins(death).

In this guide the english letter W to tarot is the moon card. With how it is depicted together with the letter H, the lover(s) card. Depicted as one passing to the other. Theres not much arguement against the suggestion in the meaning of word letter Y in conjunction to the current conjectural disclosement.

From the 15th century, apparently, when i came across this i started looking for and at 15th century artwork, drawings, ‘lots of good stuff back them. This is the cheapest deck ive seen so far. Though all the images are free on some British museum site. Forget which one.

Though it may be wrong to call it a tarot. Waite made reference to it in his pictorial definition accompany book to his tarot deck back in 1909’ish. More of a collectors item than not. 50 card deck with several of the modern tarot cards included. Supposedly what it was based on. The major players of society back in the day with the incuded schools of thought.

E И ЙQ

…. Е Ё. I dint think inlike the tarot anymore.

They gave me coffee today and joe my consciousness feels off. Along with my me tal competence. Oh well go aling eith it. If it makes them feel bettwr anout being alive. I know the ffeling of wanting to die.

Anyway. It was short lived. Thiughts now concern the evolution of where letter Ё leads off too. If “she” were to conjunct the hierophant. Wouldnt thr lover card be jesus? Cant get much more of a lover boi than that guy. Though Waites strenght as harmony always played to me anyway as a good image for the loversnif it were to be H. And furthers thoughts, already made not yet mentioned. Only percussively. Is that the pisitive judgement card woukd belong to the russian. And the negative to the latin’s. Still have as of yet to create the “princess” card. Ё. Don’t have much of an imagination. And i know when it comes to this im less biased than most. To go off experience. And being insync. With nature. Rheres not much of my own volition in life. Jsut flowing with the stream. Not fun. Still combating the perversion they cursed me with. Not fun. Liberal facist nazis. Its troubling.

Though i despise in the qwerty system that the tower and the judgment card sit side by side. If that judgement card is begative, by experience. It’s to destabilize. Thoigh a positive judgement. Is a good thing. If the tower card wasn’t an outside force breaking in. Unlike the the И card ive chosen. Its pretty much the same thing. Except that ot places more of the individual withbpower than a helpless one. But this way also the tower nect to the positive judgement. Is coherent with the star card. But yet again it places the outside external over the individual. The outside trumping the individual. While the individual. Repetion. As very little say. If man trumps nature. Beyond the power of “gods wrath”. Where’s the personal sens eof power? This tarot id far from empowering. Its disgusting.

Might as well rename the tarot as the homo-manifesto.

Crime rate of liberal vs. Communism.

Russia’s turn. Sorry femmes. Has a higher murder rate. Thats pretty much it.

But, not much can be said here, for not actually knowing the place intimately. Or how the the laws work. With more hearsay about misreportings and crap. But one will never find much positive said by the american continent in regards to russian anyways. And not much can be taken with any confidence. So this post addition cant be taken seriously. And should be ignored. Though news on china is more confident and reliable. It was the rape cases that have my attention. Over the murder cases. Other than the notion that they dont play with their food. They just take it out.

On olace of what there is now. The devil’s cosksuckers paradise. While you try everyday. To be who you are. Think well. Help out. But, satabs army doesnr care. They breed of sucking each other off. Whilebyou have to take pills to counter their druggings. And go back to next day and do it all over again. Its just covering over a similar issues whole blood drips and stains the paper. Ehile they think their acting makes a difference. It doesnt. Im bit fooled. I go with it anyway. They could be honest but they like to choke. And gag in their own cocks. Its all i know spent my entire childhood doing this. My while life. Its all there is. Raised foirced to share a bedroom with a spychotic older brother. And get bullied and out doen everywhere youve ever been.

I dont force my word son anyone. I even keep it anonimous. Just to prove a point. Hatred us stronger than love. In a lunar nation that prides itself on trash. Deceit and “one upoing to feul the moons, cravings. The nation needs another war. To stop fighting itself. Crime rates and murder rates have dropped significalty since russia started its war on illusion. Though this place uses it as anove so below bs to fuel their inrightious murder of my spirit. And intintionally keeping me negative, becaus eits needs it. 39 years and counting. Ive soent this entire lifetime doing this serrounded by enemies. Framing me up and setting me up to believe and sabotage myself. While sinutaniously being sabotaged by them. A war they started. And the woeld is a wordt place to be in because of it. But they dont see that because they feel good. I dont think they underdtand that. And if they do they dont care. 38 years watching this sickness feom my first memory to now. They enjoy the game.

Dtill anither year with them before they switch it out for anither team. 39 years and i still sont knwo whatnit is to feel loved by soemone. Yay, pills working i think. Dont thinknim s’eeping tonight though maybe no work tomorow

Ideas for princess Ё headdress. The E fool meets the king. It gets fliped to Ё fool meeting the hierophant and usurping power. The princess Ё fool card is a symbol for the femenist movement. Being a fool and being injured in a duel by a sword. And being bannished a couple times. Her interrest was outside her own culture, she lives the french language and usurped the throne because the king was a dick and she didn’t like him and wanted rightious vengence against him. Classic feminist motivation and one could say the forbearer of the modern world adding her mark in the form of letter Ё. Two dots to signify the moon. Card two which to taort would be the high priestess. Well educated, literate woman. It would be neat if her card conjuncted the priestess card or even the empress. But she doesn’t the script is linear. In one direction forward. And she falls onto the hierophant instead, the actual seat of power.

Will read furthur on her. But not much else needs to be known for the card placement speaks for itself. Except that her depiction as a fool should have a fleur-de-lys. Incorporated. Trampled flours on the ground behind her, holding a sword and being chased off like the marseille fool. Wearing one of those tent dresses. Wearing a russian headdress. With a near identical posture as the marseille fool too. Dress torn.

Other than that bs. I doubt im ever foing ti have a firlfriend. But if a guy tries to pick me up. I could go full queer wouldnt be hard. Well except all the gay bashing i go through even while being straight. Or the breeder bashing i go through. All mymlife. Sex and abuse. Don’t im ever breeding anyway. These people are making sure of that. Other than being abused by fags. Too. Yup. Whats this about serial killers? Is that caus eof theat short time i soent saying that. After soending the last 20 years being fucked by my family, being chemically imbalanced tossednoutnon the street after been thrown around like a rag doll, then being abused by a fag. And then being destabalized by a drug addict while while fucked with by my father? While desperatly needing a sense of peace to keep my shit together. Consistently for a long time. Until, i startted spouting shit left and right? And then being addipted by these fucktards who continuously fucked with me. To the breaking point. Again. .on and on. Too much to say. And then being lead to walmart and getting my spyche raped. And then to now? And then everytime i start getting back to myself and getting healthy again they do the same thing iver and over again.

Wish i lived in russian. They would have just killed me istead of this cruel and unusual torture. Because they suck. Cant expect more in this nation of the devil that breed mental disorders as a passtime hobby. I know the ehole russia war thing is a law but, im all for them dropping nukes. Instead we got this degenerate society thats pro bible and anti god.

[s0dium]

That boy is a real p*ssy pleaser

A/n: This fic is inspired by the song Black Barbies by the queen Nikk! Ive also been going through a yuuta and yuuji phase (dont get it wrong though geto is still my #1 (￣▽￣*)ゞ) Neways hope you guys enjoy!

Warnings: Pussy fanatic characters, oral, breeding kink, cum kink, pregnancy kink, sexism, sexism, master/pet play, collar/leash, dub con

Consider leaving a like, reblog, comment, or the best of all: a follow! (≧◡≦)

Yuji Itadori

Is a certified pussy addict. Yuji gets absolutely pussy drunk when it comes to you

Eats pussy like a champ. He could be in between your legs for hours, you could be full on sitting on him suffocating him with your thighs and this man wont even ask for a second to breath. His massive hands will be glued to your thighs, making sure your going no where while a eats you out like a starved man

Also certified ass man so he'll eat you out while squeezing and kneeding your ass like dough.

In the end this himbo is a giver more then a receiver. Dont get it twisted though, just because he likes to be on his knees by no means does that make him a sub.

He'll have you squirting on his pretty face and lap it all up like a starving man

Yuujis hands slipped under you to grab your ass, the fat of your skin filling the creases of his fingers like dough and bringing you closer to his tongue.

"Mhm taste so good baby." Yuji groaned into your heat and you grabbed onto his pink hair for dear life as you trembled below him. "Gonna be good for me and cum baby? If you do ill make you cum again and again."

Choso

Secret pussy fanatic, you'd never guess until he fucks you for the first time and you see the glazed over look in his eyes as he rams into you. There's no going back

Curses dont need to eat or drink to survive, but this man does need pussy once he meets you.

Behind that usually stoic face, choso looses his mind when he enters in you. And if he can use complicated curse techniques you bet this man can treat pussy right

Oh and one more thing, when choso fucks, he does it with the intent to breed

Because above all else, choso is a family man.

Hes not human, so his stamina is endlesss. He'll ram into your cum battered pussy until you faint and he knows your gonna be round with his kids in a few months

Choso whines into your mouth and presses his own messy kisses into your squealing mouth.

“m’ gonna cum- angle m’gonna cum inside and then im gonna fill your p-pretty pussy up again and aga-.” he cuts of with a groan of his own, shooting thick white ropes of his cum into your swollen n wanting womb.

He kept cumming inside of you, strings and strings of hot cum filling you up as he held you in his arms. It made your body shake, his load weighing at your stomach like it was forming a bulge with how much there was.

Yuuta Okkatsu

Treats pussy like a gift from god, because in his eyes it is.

There's one thing that has him on his knees faster then any curse technique and that's pussy

King at making you squirt unintentionally. He is just so gosh darn big T_T

Its like is dick was made for pleasure. Its slightly curved upwards to hit that special sweet spot in you and just big enough to stretch you out ever so deliciously

He'll blush when ever you comment about how big he is but dont get it twisted, this man not only has the size of the wave but the motion of the ocean too („ಡωಡ„)

Everything was too much. From the way Yuutas dick dragged against your gummy walls too the friction of his hands on you clit. All of it overlapped into blinging ecasty that elated your brain and spread and immense warmth throughout your stomach with every thrust.

“S’ont s-stop m’so happy~” Your words strung out on your lips in a dumb haze and a bit of drool seeped out from the side of your lips from how good you were being fucked.

Pride swelled in Yuutas chest at your fucked out state and he encaptured your lips with his, a string of spit connecting your tongues as he pulled apart.

“Your gonna make me go crazy baby.”

Noaya Zenin

For all the shit that’s in his brain it’s infuriating that the fact remains he is a true pussy pleaser

Mans may not know how to treat women right but sure does know how to treat pussy good

He’ll train your pussy just like he’ll train you to be obedient for him.

Noaya will make it so you’ll be able to basically cum on command.

He'll buy a collar for you with his name on it and pull on your leash to bring you up for a messy kiss while he fucks you

Dont think about being a brat, he is the CEO of the brat taming COMPANY

"Listen to me whore."

You felt the harsh tug of your leash pull your fucked out face up to meet Noaya harsh gaze, a devilish grin spread across his stupidly handsome face.

"Aww fucked you dumb baby?" He brings his other hand to your face to wipe a stream of drool that escaped from the side of your lips with his thumb. How many orgasms has it been now? You lost track. The warmth of his cum spilling out of your hole made shivers rack your body and clench around nothing. There was a moment of silence, just the sound of your whimpers and heavy gasps for air while Noaya took in your state.

"Ahhh this is bad y/n." You let out a yelp when you feel the pressure of noaya tip press against your overstimulated hole. "I dont think I can get enough of you."

"N-no no more p-please master n-no" You weakly place your hand on his toned chest in an attempt to push him away but this only earns a harsh slap to your clit making you scream.

"When did I ever care about a women's opinion? especially not yours."

[sevmch]

hq boys when you pepper them with kisses bc you're sad

characters: kenma, akaashi, kuroo

warning/s: none

genre: fluff, comfort

a/n: here's some fluff bc i think ive been writing too much angst lately aksjdkhskshs

kozume kenma

you were sitting next to kenma, staring at your boyfriend's face that had his game face plastered on his features in full concentration. you watched in silence as he played, cheek leaning against your palm.

this wasn't new, in fact, most of your time spent at his place were usually just you doing your own stuff while he played. you didn't really mind, wanting to just be around kenma and feel his presence.

he also loved having you near him, you knew that. but sometimes, especially when you're feeling down, it felt as if he didn't care a bit like right now. kenma cared a lot but he's no mind reader, so he doesn't exactly know you're upset because you failed one of your exams today.

but you really wanted to be close to him as some sort of comfort, so you moved away from the desk and lean towards kenma, resting your chin on his shoulders and catching him give you a side-eye.

"what're you doing?" he asked, focused on the screen again, fingers moving swiftly against the keyboards.

you shrugged, sighing deeply. "nothing."

"okay."

pouting at his lack of response, you placed a quick peck on his cheek. his brows jumped, the crease in his forehead disappearing for the first time tonight. you planted another one and another one and another one, soft and brief and lazy. kenma moved his face towards you when you stopped for a second due to the discomfort creeping up your neck from the position, your boyfriend whining at the sudden loss of contact.

now it's your brows that raised, not really expecting for him to ask more. he leaned closer, tilting his head a little sideways as a sign for you to keep going.

"why'd you stop?"

"my neck was starting to hurt, i thought i was bothering you though." you shifted in your seat to find a much comfortable position.

he frowned, glancing at you and quickly reaching for the neck pillow that sat on the far end of his desk.

"i love it when you do that," he said softly, pausing the game so he could put the pillow around your neck and cup your face gently. "you're never a bother to me."

"kenma," your lips trembled slightly when tears started gathering at your eyes, touched by his affection.

"i know you're not okay. i could tell since you got here. do you wanna get ice cream after and talk about it?"

you nodded, not saying a word because you were sure your voice would crack if you did and kenma knew that, ruffling your hair before turning back to his game.

"ice cream it is then," he said, pressing play. "i'll buy you two if you continue with the kisses."

giggling, you plant more soft kisses on his cheek, even massaging the back of his neck as you watched him play. later that night, he took you to your favorite ice cream parlor, listening attentively to everything you had to say.

akaashi keiji

you and akaashi haven't seen each other the past week due to both of your conflicting and hectic schedules. their practices were extended to later hours for the upcoming interhigh while you were busy with club activities. whenever you had free time, akaashi would be unavailable and vise versa.

you missed each other so much it hurts which was why the second you both had matching free time, it was spent on cuddling for hours on end. even when you were lying on top of akaashi, face hiding at the crook of his neck and feeling the rise and fall of his chest, you still craved for more.

thinking of having to separate and not see each other again for days made your heart sink into your stomach, nuzzling against his neck as if you could get even closer than you were already.

he ran his hand up and down your back in comfort, even giving a gentle squeeze on your arm to remind you he was physically there with you. you sighed deeply, landing feather-like kisses at his jaw.

"missed you."

"i know," akaashi said barely above a whisper, relaxing into the feeling of your soft lips on his skin. "i missed you too, love."

as you kept going with your ministrations, your eyes were wide in surprise when akaashi stopped you, leaning away just to turn to his side and face you. placing a hand at the back of your neck, you felt his lips on your forehead. then, you felt them next on the space between your brows, then at the tip of your nose, then at your chin.

stopping by your lips, he hovered, staring at you lovingly through half lidded eyes. blood rushed to your cheeks, heating up at the way he was gazing at you. slowly, akaashi captured your lips in his, pulling you forward by his hand on your nape as he moved his lips passionately you're glad you were laying down otherwise your knees would've gave out. it was sweet and short, slipping pecks in between before moving back a little.

"don't be so sad anymore, hm? i'm here now." he said, caressing your cheek with his thumb. the corner of your lips tug upward in a smile, releasing a contented sigh as you stared at each other for a little while.

kuroo tetsuro

he was in a middle of a phone call with yaku discussing about their chemistry homework and spitting out chemical names that were alien to you. it has been going of nearly an hour and a half and you were starting to get impatient, wanting to get back to the movie currenly paused at the screen before yaku called.

saturday nights were movie nights and it was an agreement that either of you must be free from distractions - no phone notifications, mentions of school works, and the like. unless it was an emergency. yaku calling wasn't an emergency, in fact, it was just to argue with kuroo that his answers were right and your boyfriend's were wrong.

and you wouldn't mind it if it were any other day but not today. not after movie nights have been pushed back twice in a row because kuroo has been too exhausted from training to even stay awake at 9 pm.

scooting closer to him on the couch, you locked him in place by putting your arms around his neck and resting your legs on his lap. used to your clinginess, he doesn't react - kept his mind on throwing insults at yaku.

so you proceed with your plan in mind. you weren't exactly placing kisses, just letting your lips graze the corner of his mouth to tease, knowing that it riled him up when you don't kiss him completely.

his free hand came to give your thigh a warning squeeze, a light chuckle leaving you as you kept teasing him, lips hovering at the side of his face. when you felt considerate, you'd kiss him lightly.

you're not really sure how long it went on but probably enough time for kuroo to give up.

"okay bro whatever, let's check it again on monday with kai and see who's really right. i'm busy, bye." with a tap on end call, he tossed the phone on the empty spot beside him before tackling you on the couch, making you shriek as your back met the cushion.

"my babygirl's such a tease," he said in a low, husky voice that sent shivers up and down your spine. before you could even utter a single word, kuroo's smashing his lips against yours, moving fast that it got you mind short-circuiting.

when you finally caught up with his pace and started getting into it, he pulled away. you whined, grabbing his collar to pull him down but doesn't budge, a smirk on his face.

"it's not so fun getting teased, is it?" he winked, clearly amused at your annoyed expression.

you rolled your eyes, groaning as you smack his bicep. "seriously kuroo?"

"what, you started it kitten. it's only fair if you get a little taste of it." he laughed when you scowled further, shaking his head lightly and giving you a sweet, gentle kiss. "sorry i interrupted our movie night."

"'s okay," you mumbled in between the kiss.

"we can make out for the rest of it, you know, a way for me to make it up to you," he said, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly.

you scoffed, but really, the idea sounded perfect.

"just admit you enjoy kissing me."

"mmm sure, whatever," kuroo mumbled as he dipped his head, capturing your lips again. maybe movie night being interrupted wasn't so bad afterall.

rb and feedbacks r sexy ty<33

2021 (c) sevmch | strictly do not copy or repost.

[spencersawkward]

*concussions and confessions//spencer reid*

summary: a near-death experience encourages Spencer to admit his feelings for his best friend, even at the risk of ruining their relationship.

pairing: Fem!Reader/Spencer

content warnings: oh boy there’s a lot. i’ll start with the nonsexual ones-- choking (again, not sexual), blunt force, violence, some angst. ok time for the fun ones-- unprotected penetrative sex, masturbation, sex dream, oral (male receiving), slight dirty talk, creampie. lmk if there are more that i missed! 

word count: 5.4k

A/N: hi omg so i actually combined two requests for this bc i loved the concepts and i didn't wanna do one and not the other. i hope i do both of these justice hehe thanks for sending them! also sorry if the unsub scene sucks-- i don’t usually write that way, so i tried my best. 

request(s): omg if you need ideas for baby spence can you do a one shot where he's the girls best friend (she's not in the bau) and they are in love but neither of them admit it and he is really hurt in a case or almost dies or something traumatic and only when he gets back they confess their love... and then have sex 😏 ive been thinking about this concept alot 😌

can’t stop thinking about baby spencer (like s2-s4) & his girl best friend losing their virginity to each other... can you write a one shot on this please?

masterlist

"when are you coming back?" you ask over the line. you're lying on your bed, legs in the air while you talk to your best friend. it's been a long day for you, but a longer day for him. it's always a longer day for him. 

"you know that I don't know the answer to that question." Spencer's voice is soft as he attempts to keep quiet. he's two hours ahead and, despite the fact that you're both night owls, the person he's rooming with tonight isn't. 

"I know, but there's this Korean film festival that starts tomorrow and I was hoping you would be here to translate for me." you examine your nails while you talk. Spencer lets out a disappointed sigh. 

it's only been a few days since he left, but it's been a week since you last saw him and it feels like a long time. whenever he's not at work, you two are joined at the hip. ever since you first met a few years back at a poetry convention in DC, it feels like he's the only person who understands you. which is weird, because you couldn't be more different as individuals. 

"you should bring one of your other friends." 

"bold of you to assume I have other friends." you joke. Spencer chuckles to himself and your heart flutters. you love his laugh more than anything in the world. 

"I thought that was just me." he says. 

"oh, it is just you," you reply flatly. "I was trying to make you feel better."

you can practically feel Spencer smiling through the phone. although you tease him pretty frequently, he's sometimes able to get in his own shots. it's what makes your friendship interesting.

"hey," you add before he can say anything more. "how's the case going?" 

Spence starts to detail the whole thing, and you listen intently, the timbre and smoothness of his voice comforting you as you slip beneath the covers of your bed. you like the way he enunciates his words, his strange manner of speaking, because it lulls you to sleep. 

you know he's talking about horrible things, but something about the sound comforts you deeply. when he's not around, you're wishing you had it bottled up. 

he lays out their profile as it stands, and you fall silent. it's getting pretty late and you have to be up early for work tomorrow, so it would be a good idea to get some real rest. plus, Spencer needs to sleep, too-- even though he probably won't. 

you remember times when he'd call you at three in the morning, his mind whirring as he played chess against himself and asked if you wanted to hang out so he could teach you how. you hate chess, but of course you said yes; you'd been head over heels with him since your first conversation.

eventually, you feel yourself start to drift off. you don't even really know what he's saying; all of it blends together until you're laying there, one cheek pressed to the pillow and the receiver against the other. 

"Y/N?" he says your name abruptly and your eyes, which have been slowly drawing shut this whole time, fly open. 

"yeah?" 

"go to bed."

"what? no, I'll wait until you're done." you shift. 

"I could hear your breathing change." 

"then why didn't you just hang up?" you giggle. he goes silent for a moment and you wonder if he cut out, but then he responds. 

"I wanted to say goodnight." 

it's like a cage of butterflies is unleashed in your stomach. you wrinkle your nose as you get nervous. god, you miss him. things would be so much better if he was back. not like he'd be in your bed even if he was, though.  

"then say goodnight." you prod. he lets out an awkward little sound. 

"now I can't because you made it weird." 

"how did I make it weird?" 

"I don't know, you just did." he's so clumsy, your face heats up. you want to keep talking like this until morning.

"goodnight, Spence," the words sound reluctant, but you try to cover it up by teasing him further. "see, was that so bad?" 

"oh my god, Y/N--" he tries to sound exasperated. 

"no goodnight back?" you raise an eyebrow even though he can't see you right now.  

a lengthy silence again. "goodnight."

"that's what I thought." before he can protest, you end the call, settle into the covers. moonlight beams on the walls of your apartment, and you start to think about your best friend. about all the nights spent curled up on his couch with two bowls of popcorn, his ramblings about how much he loves his job and him asking about yours. 

he's a great listener. every time you talk, he nods along like he's hanging off every word. it's nice to feel heard that way, to have someone care. and he's fun to hang out with, too. you've met his team before and they all talk about how hard it is to get him to go out, but they don't see the same side of him that you do. 

Spencer is nerdy and cute and kind and sensitive. he makes you feel special. he's everything that you've ever wanted in a person. but it's not like it would matter, anyway. he hasn't really shown interest in any girls-- much less you. even if he did, you're scared of ruining the friendship. 

the fallout of not having him around at all... it would destroy you. and something, even if it's torturous, is better than nothing. 

which is why, as you sit there and remember being around him, your fingertips creep below the comforter. a familiar routine, they move over your stomach, until they reach the waistband of your panties. for a moment, you hesitate. it's wrong. he's your best friend. but he doesn't need to know that this is how you handle the ache he puts between your legs. 

as your index finger slides down your slit, you feel the wetness already forming. Spencer's hands, his mouth. the thought of his lips pressed to yours while he fucks you, holding your body like it's delicate. 

you don't know exactly how it would feel because you've never had sex, but you want to find out with him. he's never done it, either. you don't care; all you need is to have him inside of you, to see how he looks when he's on the edge. 

your mind wanders to the image of him parting your legs and rolling his eyes into the back of his head. the sensation of him filling you up. falling apart. 

you slide a finger inside, gasping at the way your walls tighten and your imagination runs wild. that tongue, lapping and making you squirm, your fingers twisted in his soft hair. he's so sweet; his attentiveness would make your legs shake. you want to look into his eyes while he does it. 

you add a second finger, curl them and brush over the most sensitive part. the pressure of his hips grinding into yours. your body curves up at the way you start to finger yourself, the other hand stimulating your clit. it's almost overwhelming, the way his name tumbles from your lips over and over. 

you've never wanted someone so badly in your life; he belongs in your bloodstream. the sounds he would make in your ear before finally cumming and collapsing on top of you, spent. you want to tire him out and then do it all over again. 

you're greedy on the edge, indulging in every single image of him you can conjure up, every dirty thing you'd say. finally, you feel yourself fall, the orgasm intense as you bite back groans of pleasure and work through the high. it's amazing. 

you sit there, panting, feeling your heart beat in your chest. some things can't leave your head, they're so sinful. and the worst part is that you don't regret it in the slightest. 

...

Spencer can feel his pulse practically leaping against his throat as he makes his way through the empty warehouse. he should have waited for backup; he knows he should have, but it's too late now to go back and change things. 

he clutches his gun, pointing it in front of him while his eyes flicker wildly across the space. he's moving between enormous aisles stuffed with crates, not knowing who else is around. they said the unsub brought his newest victim here-- Spencer came first because was closest to the site-- but he hears nothing aside from the uneven rhythm of his own breath. 

every step is careful. he's thinking about how close the rest of the team must be. based on their distance from the station, they should arrive within six minutes-- but that doesn't account for the time it takes to put on their bulletproof vests, to get to their cars. 

truthfully, he doesn't know if he's going to have to do this on his own. and that scares him the most. 

there's no point in worrying. he swallows the lump in his throat and presses his back to one of the crates. there's a scraping noise a ways off that causes him to freeze. because of the echoes of the warehouse, the origin is indiscernible. he doesn't breathe, eyes darting between each of the openings into the aisle. 

after a minute of pure silence, he peels himself away and turns to head back out. 

and that's when the sound of wood cracking against bone startles him; he hears it before he feels it, but it's obvious when he crumples to the floor. like knife points pressing into his brain at all angles, the shooting agony in his skull. 

he starts to clutch at his head, only to be yanked off the ground by a meaty hand and thrown against the side of a crate. 

"fucking feds." the guy is enormous. gargantuan. he keeps his arm across Reid's throat, pressing down enough to restrict his airway. but Spencer can't even concentrate on the guy's face further than its rough outlines. his vision is going in and out, fuzzy at the edges from the blow to his head. 

he definitely has a concussion. 

"I..." he trails off. the huge FBI logo on his vest is a dead giveaway. 

"all alone?" the unsub has breath like rotten fish, spits each word into his face. "I won't even need my gun." 

Spencer's head lolls to the side and he catches sight of his own weapon lying helplessly a few feet away. there's no way he could get to it in time, even if he got out of this guy's chokehold. 

he tries to think of a way to talk himself out of this; after all, their profile said he'd be more susceptible to negotiation, but that's kind of hard to do with someone's forearm slammed against your trachea. he presses harder and Spencer sees stars. his glasses hang almost off the bridge of his nose, centimeters from falling to the floor. 

he starts to realize that he's going to die, defenseless and alone, in a warehouse. at the hands of a man who kills women because his Viagra doesn't work. but this doesn't incite the kind of panic Spencer always predicted he'd feel. the lack of oxygen in his brain causes him to go delirious. 

he misses home. his mom and his old house, even though things were hard. he misses Y/N, his team members. he wishes his team was here; he should have waited for them. he should have told Y/N how he feels. now she's never going to know. 

Reid is so out of it, he doesn't even notice the pressure being relieved from his throat until he collapses on the ground. the unsub falls, too, his cheek smashed by the force of the abandoned wooden plank. 

it's hard to tell what's happening until Reid lifts his head to see Morgan standing above him, preparing to handcuff the criminal.

"kid," Spencer never thought he'd be so glad to hear his voice. "what happened?"

...

you practically crash into Spencer's apartment the next evening, flinging your body through the front door with your spare key. 

"Spence?" you call out from the entryway. everything still looks the same, but when his colleague, Penelope, called you today to tell you that Reid had gotten a concussion after a run-in with an unsub, you rushed here as soon as you could. 

"in here." he calls from his bedroom. you don't hesitate, your feet carrying you there. you've been anxious all day; he didn't call last night or even text like usual. you were on the verge of panicking when Penelope called. 

of course, you knew that was the risk with Spencer. he knew the risk, too. his life would always be in the balance when it came to the cases, but he'd gone through so many at this point, you weren't thinking about it. if you did, you wouldn't be able to focus on anything else. 

when you walk in, the first thing you see is Spencer laying in bed in his silk pjs. there's a stack of unread books on his bedside table. his glasses sit on top. he's just laying there with his eyes closed. 

"oh my god." you mutter, dropping your bag on the floor and walking over. he opens his eyes with a slight smile. there's a purple bruise forming across his throat, light but definitely there.  

"hi." 

"what the fuck happened?" you ask the question you've been wondering the whole way here. 

"he hit me with a plank." Spencer explains, the phrase coming out like he's still confused about it. "I'm fine, just a mild concussion and a bruise because he choked me." 

you take a second to assess if he actually means that he's okay, or if he's trying not to worry you. he stares at your expression for a second. 

"Y/N, I'm really fine." 

"you don't look fine." you gesture to the fact that he's laying in bed. 

"my body is sore, but nothing's wrong with me. I just can't look at screens or read." this last part makes him much more melancholy, it seems. you reach down and ruffle his hair playfully. 

"sounds like a nightmare." 

"it is." he cracks up. 

"I'm glad you're okay." you sigh. your heart rate has slowed to a reasonable pace now that you know he's fine. Spencer gives a ghost of a smile, and when he pats the empty spot on the bed beside him, you kick off your shoes and climb over his body to sit down. "so... did you guys get him?" 

"the unsub?" he turns his head to look at you. something is in his eyes that you can't read. "yeah, he's in custody. we saved the girl he abducted, too." 

"well, aren't you a hero?" you grin, pinching his arm. 

"ow!" he flinches. "don't hurt the patient."

"oh, so now you're injured?" you giggle softly. his smile fades a bit, gaze trailing from your face to your legs. it isn't lustful or anything, more like he's taking in your existence. it still makes your heart flutter. 

"I wasn't really a hero, anyway," he sighs. "I got knocked down before I even found her." 

"oof." you wince. 

"yeah, it's sort of embarrassing. I went in by myself and--"

"you went by yourself?" you clarify, turning to face him. of course he did. 

"yeah." he avoids your gaze. 

"Spencer, I work in a stationery shop and I know you're supposed to wait for backup." you deadpan. he snorts, staring straight ahead at the wall. his hair is flat in the back from where he's been resting it against the headboard. 

"he would have hurt her if I had waited." he explains. your heart softens a bit at this. you know Spencer has a problem with saving people; sometimes he doesn't think things through. but you know that it's only because he cares. 

you smile gently, appreciating what a beautiful person he is. you don't understand how other people don't see him how you do. your hand reaches for his suddenly, and you find yourself snuggling into his shoulder. 

Spencer doesn't usually like touch, but he welcomes this, dropping his own head to rest on top of yours while you both stare at the wall. his silence feels heavy, more than it usually does, and you wonder what he's thinking. 

"I'm really glad you're okay, Spencer." your tone is low, like it's a secret. 

"you already said that." 

"shut up." 

"you care about me." he sing-songs with a smile, and you know he means it in a friendly way, but you don't care. it brings warmth to your cheeks. 

"whatever. you care about me, too." 

he lets out a slight chuckle. "when I started to black out, I thought of you." 

your heart leaps, even though the reason is pretty dark. "oh, yeah?"

"mhmm." he hums. 

"nobody's ever told me that they thought of me in their last moments of life before." you tease. there are so many things you'd like to say, but know you can't. he smells like himself and coffee beans, his skin warm beneath the silk of his pajamas. 

"I'd hope not."

"anything in particular?" you wonder aloud. 

"what?" you feel him tense beneath you, and that's how you know there's something he's not telling you. 

"were you thinking about anything in particular?" 

"someone's full of themselves." he jokes. you smack his arm.  

"humor me." more than anything, you want to hear his thoughts. you know you're reaching, but you don't care. 

"just..." he pauses, the next words coming out almost too quietly to hear. "things I never got to say to you." 

"like?" now you're intrigued. 

"no way." he laughs and you groan, turning and realizing that you've both sunk deeper onto the bed and are now practically lying down. 

"c'mon," you prod. you've flipped onto your side while you watch him, his eyes directed at the ceiling. "what if you'd actually died?" 

Spencer gives you a look, and you wish you could snap a picture of his face. the gentle features, the warmth in his eyes. he stares at you differently than before, and it makes your stomach flip again. "I, um." 

you start to trace your index absently down his forearm, where his sleeve has incidentally gotten rolled up. his skin is soft. you know that this isn't a friendly thing to do, but something inside you craves his touch right now. you almost lost him; you can't imagine how horrible that would be. 

"I wanted to say that I--" he gulps, muscles in his shoulder tight beneath your cheek. "well, I care about you, and I... I really love you." 

it's not the first time he's said it, obviously in a platonic sense. what affects you is that he's acting like it's a big deal. 

"I love you too, Spence." you smile softly. his chest rises and falls faster, his face tensed. 

"no, I mean--" he turns onto his side, using the action to distract from his own nervousness. he holds your gaze and you forget how to breathe as he speaks. every syllable is serious, but you note his fingers fidgeting at his side. "I'm in love with you." 

it's like all the air in the room has been sucked out. you swallow, unsure of how to react at first. you don't believe what you're hearing, simply because it doesn't make sense. you've been friends for a while, now, but Spencer has never made a move to ask you out or acted like he wanted anything more. 

your heart swells. 

"you're in love with me?" the words even feel surreal on your tongue. he takes it as rejection.

"I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry." Spencer rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, his expression turning to a cringe. he's about to sit up to hide the red in his cheeks, but you pull him back down by the shoulder. 

"not so fast, crazy boy." the corners of your mouth are turning up into a grin. you can't help it; every nerve in your body is alive. Spencer loves you. he feels the same way. 

when he sinks back down onto the mattress and sighs, preparing to say something that rescinds the statement to erase any awkwardness, you grab his face and turn it to yours. you don't kiss him, only force him to look. 

"I'm in love with you, too." 

his eyebrows fly up in surprise. "r-really?"

"yes." you nod. 

he takes a second to process this. you see about five different expressions pass over his face, each one reminding you of how earnest he is. and it's absolutely adorable. 

"well, that's good, isn't it?" he clarifies. you pretend to think on it. 

"I'd say so, yeah." 

he smiles. a genuine, rare one that makes your veins feel as if they're full of glitter. you're on Cloud 9. 

"can I kiss you?" you ask him quietly. he seems surprised at this, too, like he never thought you'd want that, but then nods eagerly. 

you close the gap between you on the bed, holding his jaw in one hand while the other rests on his forearm. your lips meet softly at first. he's cautious, scared of pushing you away. he hasn't kissed many people before. but he's good at it, letting you take the lead. 

there's no way to adequately describe kissing Spencer. every bone in your body turns to mush, immediately craving more contact. you slide your tongue across his full bottom lip, and he lets you in. his affection is the most loved you've ever felt. because sure, you haven't had sex, but you've kissed people before. 

never like this. 

one of his hands goes up to wrap around your forearm tenderly before he shifts to lie on his side. you wrap around each other, turning the kiss into a full-body embrace as you breathe in. you want more. your leg swings over his torso so you can pull yourself closer, and he groans into your mouth when your pelvis presses against his. 

the kiss gets more heated, his hands carefully but hungrily traveling down the curve of your waist. you flip so that you're straddling him without breaking any contact. 

you don't really think about the way your hips begin to rock against his, your pussy involuntarily working for friction. there are so many happy chemicals in your brain right now, you giggle against his mouth when his body bucks up into yours. he groans. 

"Y/N..." he breathes softly. his hands move from your waist to your thighs, afraid to dig his fingertips in. 

"what?" you sigh, licking over his bottom lip again. he moans at the way you keep grinding on his erection. 

"I wanna--" his eyelashes flutter when he gasps. "I wanna touch you." 

"do it." your palm is resting tenderly against his cheek. he responds by finally holding you down, sliding his body up a bit to grind against your center. you whine. "touch whatever you want, Spencer." 

his cock twitches in his pants and you push the hem of his shirt up while he uses one hand to massage your tits. the voracious, curious nature of his attention makes you sigh, touching his stomach. he feels perfect beneath you. 

soon you're grabbing at each other without any regard for grace. he's so horny, he's pawing at whatever he can while you do the same to him. the kissing gives way to straight panting while you look at each other. 

"can I suck your dick?" you whisper. Spencer's eyes widen. you've never seen him nod so fast. 

you press your mouth to his one more time before inching down his body, sucking on his clavicle, then his stomach. careful to avoid the purple marks on his neck. he watches you intently, memorizing the details of this moment for later. when you reach the waistband of his pants, you peek up. he strains against the material. 

your mouth drops open and you draw your tongue over the clothed bulge, maintaining eye contact. Spencer throws his head back. his voice is high. "oh my god, oh my god." 

you smirk, licking it again. he clenches his jaw. "I'm gonna c-cum if you don't--" he tries for words, but he's mewling and moving against your mouth. you pull at his pants, hooking your fingers in his boxers and bringing them down, too. 

Spencer bucks into the air when his cock hits his stomach. it's big, precum leaking helplessly out of the tip while he whines. you want him now. 

"wow." you smile. he stares at you, tensing his stomach as you wrap your hand around his length. he's trying to keep quiet, but as soon as you spit on it and start to pump him, his head falls back into the pillow. 

you draw your tongue up the underside, paying special attention to the veins, reveling in his reactions. he looks like he's ascending to heaven when you start to suck on the first couple inches.  

"o-oh, fuck..." he keeps moving his hips off the bed for more, so you sink down further onto him, hollowing your cheeks and moaning. "Y/N..." 

you groan in response, feeling yourself get wetter with every sound he makes. you can't believe this is happening, the way he threads his fingers loosely through your hair in an attempt to touch more of you.

he tries to keep his eyes open while you suck, but they squint with pleasure. he's a mess for you, shuddering gently when you take nearly all of him into your mouth. 

before he can cum, you pull your mouth off of him with a satisfying pop. Spencer moans. 

"was that okay?" you ask carefully. this is the extent of your sexual experience, and you want to do more with him, but you aren't sure how he feels. your best friend stares back at you like you've turned his world upside down. 

"y-yeah," he replies. his face is flushed. "definitely okay."

he's throbbing, occasionally twitching against his stomach as he waits for more stimulation. you eye him carefully. 

"what do you feel comfortable doing?" your voice is smooth. "we can stop now, if you'd like." 

"I--" he chokes on the word. "I don't wanna stop." 

"do you want to have sex?" you ask. Spencer bites his lip, whines. 

"mhmm." 

"I wanna do that, too," you breathe out, straightening up and pulling your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra, before getting to work on your shorts. you know you're practically dripping. he's been more vocal, but you feel like you're going to implode from the desire. "but I need to tell you something." 

"what?" he tugs your arm, coaxing you back to him and touching you greedily. you giggle as you kick your shorts and panties off somewhere in the room. both of you move like awkward teenagers. 

"I'm a virgin." you say. 

Spencer frowns. "really?" 

"yeah," you lick your lips. "so you need to be careful." 

"o-of course." he blushes, getting nervous again. "you know I'm a virgin too, right?"

"I know." you smile. he returns it sweetly, and the commotion of your bodies slows for a moment. you're so happy, you could cry. 

"what?" he breaks the comfortable silence. 

"I'm excited," you shrug. he's got his hands on your waist, rubbing his fingertips over your skin. then you remember something. "wait, are you allowed to have sex with your... injury?" 

"it's fine." he reaches up and kisses your throat with an urgency. 

"did the doctor say that?" your eyes roll while he sucks on your neck. he groans and pulls down on your waist so that your stomach presses against his cock. he ruts. 

"second opinion from me." he pants. you tap his cheek playfully, move up his body until your core brushes him. he whimpers when you reach between your bodies and grip his length in your hands. 

"you ready?" your voice is low. Spencer squeezes your thighs, eyes moving between your tits and your face. 

"yes." he sighs. you position it, slicking him in your pussy while he wraps an arm around your waist and moans for more. your chests are pressed together, looking into each other's eyes while you slide him into you. 

you have to go slow, the intrusion causing your jaw to drop. you don't breathe. he's got his eyes rolled into the back of his head.  

"Spencer." you whimper, dropping your head onto his chest when he's fully inside of you. his fingers rub patiently over your back. 

"are you okay?" his voice is laced with a moan, trying to resist thrusting. 

"yeah, just a second." you wiggle a little bit to test the boundaries. it hurts, but it also feels good. your clit is begging for more pressure, so you start to roll your hips. Reid moans loudly. 

"Y/N..." he whimpers. "don't stop." 

"you want more?" the need in his voice makes you hornier, and you increase the pace, despite the slight pain. you're so wet, he slides in and out without much effort. 

"so-- much more." he's gasping, hands on your thighs as he watches your naked body writhe on top of him. he's never been more aroused in his life, spurred on by your scent and form and the tightness that keeps clenching around his cock.

he understands why people love sex so much, now. he wants it every day, wants to fuck you in every position and pleasure you. the sounds you release in his ear, whines and praises, he would do anything for more. walk to the ends of the earth to feel you cum on his cock. 

his hand finds your ass, squeezes it. 

"this feel good, Spence? fucking your best friend?" you talk dirty and he twitches. you're always so sweet, the words coming out of your mouth for him are going to send the genius into a tailspin. 

"mhmm," he holds you down so that he can thrust up. speaking at all is a struggle with the way he's feeling. "perfect." 

you start to say something else, but he hits a certain angle and you let out a quiet yelp, hips jumping at the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum." 

Spencer gets a rush of relief because it's taking everything in him right now not to absolutely lose it inside your pussy. he's hanging on by a thread. "me, too." 

you use your position on top to stimulate yourself. both of you chase your orgasms roughly, the rhythm you created degenerating into clawing excitement. 

"cum inside me, Spencer." you beg him. it sounds like you would do anything to feel it, that sensation that you've never experience but have always imagined. and Spencer, his own head foggy with ecstasy, nods and opens his mouth to let out a loud groan. 

"Y/N, fuck fuck fuck-- I'm--" he shoots his load inside of you, rutting wildly and letting his head drop onto the pillow while he pants. you can feel it. strange, lovely jolts of his seed spreading. your hands, which have been resting on his shoulders, tighten and you reach your climax. you flutter around him, both of you still moving to ease the intensity of the high. 

it's remarkable. you're crying out, having the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. you never thought your first time would be like this. but you're glad it is, muscles tightening and releasing with the mixture of emotions. 

you collapse fully, him still inside. 

neither of you speaks. his heartbeat thuds against your ear, and you hold onto him like letting go would be the end of the world. you can't believe you could have lost him. you don't want to think about it. 

"sorry I came so fast." Spencer apologizes breathlessly. you can feel his cum dripping down your entrance when he slides out. 

"I don't care." you mumble. both of you stay there for a while, his heartbeat changing to a pace that reminds you of genuine excitement. like a hummingbird. 

"we can try again, sometime." he offers. you lift your head to rest your chin on his chest. his skin is flushed, pupils dilated, hair messy. such a pretty boy. 

"we should try multiple times." 

he gives you a cheerful smile, and everything starts to fall into place. you took each other's virginity. "Y/N?" 

he likes to say your name, and you love to hear it. "yes?" 

"are we dating?" the bluntness of the question makes you giggle. you don't hesitate. 

"yeah." 

“good.”

taglist (lmk if you wanna be added/removed!): @reidsconverse @voidsfilm @xoxomgg​ 

[dadbodosamu]

only you || part iii

Stepdad Osamu x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: shower sex, oral (m receiving), snowballing, semi-public sex, mild degradation, spit, squirting, daddy kink

4.1k words

also i forgot to tag them in the last part but thanks to @waka-chan-out and @vanilleswtmacaron for beta reading this!!

part i || part ii || part iii || part iv || part v || part vi || extras || only you, too

In the morning, Osamu was once again sliding into your bed. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and hummed in your ear as he settled down.

“Good morning, baby,” he muttered.

“Morning,” you mumbled, shimmying closer to him. You yawned and rolled to face him. 

“Beautiful,” Osamu said, kissing your forehead. You smiled tiredly.

“Handsome,” you said, kissing his nose. 

“Shower with me?” He asked. You hummed in agreement. He rolled you out of the bed, pulling you into your attached bathroom.

You pushed your shorts down to your ankles as Osamu pulled your shirt off.

“Cute,” he said, pinching your nipple playfully.

“We should start the shower,” you mumbled as Osamu leaned down in front of you. 

“Mhmm,” he hummed, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples.

“Samu,” you breathed as he sucked at your nipple. 

“Just can’t get enough of ya,” he mumbled against your skin.

You tangled your fingers in his hair as he swapped over to your other nipple. 

“Yer sweet, lil’ body, so responsive,” Osamu said as your back arched, pushing your breasts into his face.

You pulled him up by his hair to press your lips together. He stood up, lifting you by your thighs. You wrapped your legs around him as he pushed you against the shower wall.

“Samu,” you moaned. You tugged his hair as he kissed down your neck. “No-no bruises.”

“Just blame Bokuto again,” he mumbled, sucking at your skin.

“At least leave them where I can hide them,” you said. He moved lower, kissing and biting over your breasts.

Osamu pulled back as you whined.

“Shower,” he said. You sighed as you stepped out of the shower and watched as Osamu started the water. Once the water had warmed up, you stepped under the water flow. 

“How can ya stand it that hot?” Osamu complained, following you under the water. He hissed as the water hit his back and quickly spun you around so the water was hitting your back. You laughed.

“Just turn it down, babe,” you giggled, turning the cold water up.

“Just turn it down, babe,” he mocked, caging you against the shower wall. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Imitation is the highest form of flattery,” you said, pecking his lips. 

He moved in closer to you, deepening the kiss. He lifted you by your thighs, wrapping your legs around him as the warm water coated your body.

“Samu, don’t drop me,” you mumbled against his lips. He lined up his cock with your entrance, teasing you with just the tip.

“Not gonna drop ya, princess,” he grunted. His cock slid into you slowly, drawing a long, low moan from your lips.

“Samu,” you moaned, tightening your legs around him. He rolled his hips against yours, forcing his cock deeper. 

“Feels good, baby?” Osamu asked. “Feels so good havin’ ya wrapped around my cock, princess.”

“Feels good having you in me, daddy,” you said, digging your nails into Osamu’s skin.

“Ah, no marks, princess,” Osamu said, smiling at you teasingly. You kissed him deeply.

“Just not where they can show,” you said, pulling away from him. He buried his face in your neck and smiled against your skin. He snapped his hips up making you moan loudly.

“Samu, please,” you moaned, moving your hips against his. “Wanna cum.”

He reached between you and rubbed your clit in time with his slow thrusts. 

“Not stopping you,” he said. You cried out as your stomach tightened.

“Samu, please!” You cried. “Harder please!”

Osamu rubbed your clit furiously as your walls clenched around him.

“Come on, baby,” he grunted. “Cum around daddy’s cock.”

Your stomach tightened and your walls fluttered as your juices squirted out.

“Cum in me, please, daddy,” you begged as you gushed around him. “Want you to breed me.”

“Fuck,” Osamu hissed as his cock twitched in you. “Want my babies, huh? Want me to knock ya up?”

You nodded as you pressed your chest against his. “Wanna make you a daddy.” Osamu groaned as he emptied his balls into your cunt.

“Fuck, yer too much for me, princess,” Osamu breathed, dick falling limply from you. You laughed as his cum leaked from your hole. 

“Old man,” you teased as Osamu gently set you on your feet.

“Only four years older than ya, princess,” Osamu said, pecking your lips.

You two showered quickly after that as the water continued to cool down. By the time you were stepping out, you were shivering from the cold water.

“Aw, come here, baby,” Osamu said, wrapping a towel around you and pulling you against his body. “Let me warm ya up.”

“Th-thanks,” you stuttered, shivering in his arms.

“Y/n!” You jumped as your mom’s voice rang out. You pushed away from Osamu, stepping into your room where your mom was poking her head in from the hallway.

“Mom! Hi!” You exclaimed, rushing over to stop her from coming all the way in. “What are you doing here, shouldn’t you be at work?”

“Had to come back and grab my phone,” she said. “Where’s Osamu? His phone’s in our bedroom but I don’t see him anywhere.”

“I think he said he had to run by the restaurant,” you said. “Must’ve forgotten his phone.”

“Oh, okay,” she said. “Well, I’m going to take the car to work, so let Osamu know when he gets back.”

“No problem,” you said. 

“Bye, sweetie, love you,” she called, walking down the hallway.

“Love you, too,” you called after her. You waited until you heard the car pull away before running back to the bathroom where Osamu was standing, looking like he’d had the most silent panic attack ever.

“She’s gone,” you breathed. “That was a close one.”

Osamu let out a long breath, his whole body relaxing.

“A close one,” he laughed, coldly. “My whole life flashed before my eyes.”

“Tell me about it,” you said. “I thought she was going to come in.”

“We have to start being more careful,” Osamu said. You nodded in agreement. 

“Come on, let’s just get ready, the game’s soon,” you said. You smacked Osamu’s ass as he walked past you. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Osamu said. You smirked at him as he wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Who says I can’t finish it?”

“If we miss the subway, I’m going to cry,” you threatened as Osamu slowly got dressed. “Do you want me to cry?”

“I dunno, are you a cute cryer?” He asked, going through his closet to find a shirt.

“I won’t be if we miss the game,” you said, laying back on Osamu’s bed.

“Black or white?” Osamu asked, holding up two Onigiri Miya shirts. 

“Samu,” you whined. “They’re the same shirt!”

“Black or white?” He asked again. You huffed. 

“Black,” you said. “Do you only own Onigiri Miya shirts?”

“Pretty much,” Osamu said, shrugging. He tugged on the shirt and held his hand out for you. You grabbed it and let him pull you into a sitting up position. “Are you sure you don’t want to wear something else?”

You smiled widely as you smoothed down your sundress. “How else am I going to seduce Bokkun to join us for dinner?”

“I’ll kill him if he looks at you for more than three seconds,” Osamu said, pulling you up to your feet. His arms wrapped around you and he held you tightly against his body. “Also, no cutesie nicknames for him.”

“You do know I have to make it believable that he and I hooked up, right?” You asked. 

“Just tell him ya hooked up with someone yer mom won’t approve of, which ya did, and that ya lied to her about who it was, which ya did,” Osamu said. “The best lies are ones that hold a touch of truth.”

“Oh and you’d know all about this, how, Mr. Lies?” You asked, looking up at him. 

“I’ve been avoiding fucking my wife for a week,” Osamu said. “I know how to lie.”

“I’ll remember that,” you said. 

“I would never lie to ya, baby,” Osamu said, pecking your lips. 

“Better not,” you mumbled, kissing him again. “Come on, we’re gonna be late.”

Osamu’s hand was permanently pulling your dress down as the two of you travelled to the game. At the game, Osamu offered his hoodie to drape over your bare knees after you took a seat.

“Samu, stop,” you hissed as he tugged your dress down in a vain attempt to cover your knees as you sat. “I’m going to end up flashing everyone here my boobs.”

“Well now I have a new fear,” he said, thrusting his hoodie into your arms. “Aren’t ya cold? Put my hoodie on.”

“Will you leave me alone and let me watch the game if I put the hoodie on?” You asked. He nodded, scowling at a guy that had glanced at you a little too long. 

You pulled the hoodie on, content as you watched the game, if not a little warm.

After the game, which MSBY had won 3-1 over the Adlers, you let Osamu lead you down to the court where the boys were all excited to see you.

“Y/n! Did you see my last spike?!” Bokuto exclaimed, spinning you around in a tight hug.

“You were amazing! All of you!” You exclaimed once he sat you down. 

“Y/n, this is our captain, Meian Shugo,” Sakusa said, introducing you to their tall, handsome captain.

“This is Y/n, my new niece!” Atsumu exclaimed, tossing his arm over your shoulders. 

“L/n Y/n, I’m a big fan,” you said, bowing lowly to him. “It’s an honour to meet you.”

“You’re the setter that these guys won’t stop talking about,” Meian said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You smiled widely as the guys made their way to the locker rooms and Osamu was dragging you through hallway after hallway until he shoved you into a supply closet and pushed you down to your knees. 

“Ya look so fuckin’ hot wearin’ my clothes,” Osamu said, undoing his jeans and tugging them down. “I really, really want ya suckin’ my cock, right now.”

You wasted no time, immediately taking the pierced tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the cool, metal of his piercing.

“Bokuto, the fuckin’ idiot, flashed everyone your cute lil’ lace panties,” Osamu growled, tangling his fingers in your hair. “Thought Hinata was gonna cum in his shorts.”

You moaned around him.

“Oh, ya like that? Hinata’s probably jerkin’ his cock right now, jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout yer lil white, lace panties, barely hidden under yer lil dress,” Osamu said, pushing your head down, forcing more of his cock in your mouth. You moaned again, the vibrations drawing a low moan from Osamu’s throat. “S’too bad that’s all he’s ever gonna get. Yer my lil cock whore, isn’t that right, baby?”

You hummed as he let your head up for you to take a breath. As soon as oxygen filled your lungs, Osamu was forcing you back down on his cock.

“Come on, suck my cock, princess,” he groaned. “Before I fuck yer throat.”

You hollowed your cheeks and forced yourself to take more of his cock down your throat. The corners of your lips burned with the stretch and you forced the urge to gag down as you bobbed your head on his cock.

“Fuck, good girl, takin’ daddy’s cock so well,” Osamu groaned. “Should cum on yer fuckin’ face, just to show everyone who ya belong to.”

You clenched your thighs together as you pulled back and teased his piercing with your tongue. 

“Don’t swallow,” Osamu choked out as his cock twitched in your mouth. “Hold it in your mouth.”

You hummed as his cock twitched again.

“Fuck,” he moaned, throatily, as he spilled into your mouth. Your eyes watered as salty cum filled your mouth and leaked down your chin. 

“Come ‘ere,” Osamu said, pulling you up to your feet. He kissed you deeply. You pushed the cum into his mouth and grinned when he pulled back. “Open.”

Your mouth fell open and you moaned as he spat his cum back onto your waiting tongue.

“Swallow,” he mumbled, watching as his cum dripped from your tongue. You swallowed and opened your mouth to show him. “Good girl.”

Osamu pulled his hoodie off of you and wiped your chin clean with it before folding it over his arm.

“Come on, let’s go before they start wondering where we are,” Osamu said, tugging you out of the closet. 

“We still have to talk to Bokkun,” you said, following Osamu closely. 

“Talk to Bokuto about what?”

You jumped nearly in Osamu’s arms when you heard Atsumu from behind you.

“Tsumu! How long have you been there?!” You exclaimed, turning on your heel to face him. 

“Long enough,” Atsumu said. He reached out and wiped at your chin with his thumb. “Heard something about ‘cumming on yer face to show who ya belong to’. Didn’t think he’d actually do it.” Atsumu casually wiped his thumb on his jeans. 

“We can explain,” Osamu said.

“Yer fucking yer stepdaughter,” Atsumu said, crossing his arms.

“I, um, yeah, I guess so,” Osamu said, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s more than that, Tsumu.”

“A whole affair,” Atsumu said. 

“You can’t tell my mom!” You exclaimed. “I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” Atsumu asked, smirking.

“I’ll kill ya,” Osamu threatened.

“Chill out, it was a joke,” Atsumu said, holding his hands up. “Besides, I don’t plan on telling her. Frankly, I don’t care.”

“Ya want something,” Osamu said, narrowing his eyes at Atsumu. 

“Let me have a turn,” Atsumu said. Osamu stepped in front of you, pushing you behind him.

“I wasn’t joking when I said I’d kill ya,” Osamu said. “We’ve shared in the past but Y/n is different.”

“Osamu,” you cooed. 

“I really, really like her,” Osamu said, ignoring you. “Like, it could be love one day.”

You melted a little. Your face softened and you hugged your arms around Osamu’s waist.

“Fine, fine,” Atsumu said. “I won’t say anything. I’ll even be yer cover.”

“What do you want?” Osamu asked. 

“Free food whenever I go to any Onigiri Miya,” Atsumu said. “And maybe just one kiss.”

“Free food for a year and a kiss on the cheek,” Osamu bargained. 

“Free food for a year and a real kiss,” Atsumu said. “With tongue.”

“What are we, in high school?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Free food for two years and a peck,” Osamu said. “And I won’t even kick ya after the kiss.”

“Or hit me at all!” Atsumu said.

“Fine,” Osamu said.

“Deal,” Atsumu said, smirking. “Come ‘ere, doll.”

Osamu stepped to the side, letting you move closer to Atsumu.

“No tongue,” you warned, before leaning in. Atsumu swiped his tongue along your bottom lip as you kissed him. You stomped his foot as you jerked away.

“Worth it,” Atsumu said, smiling victoriously.

“Shut up,” you said as Osamu wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He kissed your temple.

“Hope my cum tastes good,” Osamu said, smirking wickedly. Atsumu’s face dropped as he gagged.

“Ew! Gross, I demand a redo after she brushes her teeth!” Atsumu exclaimed, following after the two of you. You and Osamu laughed loudly as he complained behind you.

“Bokuto couldn’t make it?” Your mom asked as she sat the food on the table.

“That’s why we brought Atsumu to replace him,” you said, smiling widely. 

Atsumu smiled at your mom wryly. “M/n,” he said.

“Atsumu,” your mom said, barely containing her glare. “I’m so glad you could come.”

“I’m sure,” Atsumu said. 

You and Osamu awkwardly loaded food onto your plates as your mom and Atsumu glared at each other.

“So, how was work?” You asked. 

“Oh, it’s terrible!” Your mom exclaimed. “Just the worst!”

“Oh? What happened?” Osamu asked, slurping up his soup.

“I have to work in Tokyo for the next week!” Your mom said. You bit your lip to keep from smiling.

“Oh, no! That’s awful,” you said. “But Tokyo, that’s nice.”

“It’s just now I really won’t get to see you,” your mom said, pouting.

“Maybe I could extend my trip a little,” you said. “That way when you get back we can still have a day or two just us.”

“Oh, as long as Osamu doesn’t mind having you here,” your mom said. 

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Osamu said. “This is her house, too.”

“Okay, then, that’s settled! We have to have a girls day when I get back,” your mom said. “I feel like I’ve just been pawning you off on Osamu this whole week.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t mind,” Atsumu snarked. You kicked him in the shin.

“I don’t mind,” Osamu said. “It’s father daughter bonding.”

“Oh, it’s bonding all right,” Atsumu muttered. You kicked him again. He hissed in pain.

“What was that?” Your mom asked.

“Just said that bonding is nice,” Atsumu said.

“So, when do you leave?” You asked.

“Tomorrow morning, around 5,” she said. “Way before you two will be up.”

“Are you taking the train?” Osamu asked. Your mom shook her head.

“I’m taking the car, hope you don’t mind,” she said. 

“It’s fine, we’ll probably just hang around here, anyway,” Osamu said. 

Atsumu smirked as he sipped his tea. 

“We have that pick up game later this week,” you said. “With Bokkun, Hinata, and Sakusa.”

“It’ll be great, we’re gonna crush you,” Atsumu said.

“You don’t even know the teams yet,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Me, Omi-kun, and Shoyo versus ya, Samu, and Bokuto,” he said.

“That’s not fair! You three are all professionals! You take Samu!” You exclaimed.

“Ya don’t want me on yer team? I’m hurt,” Osamu said, clutching his heart. 

“Against three pros? No, I don’t want you on my team,” you said. “I want Sho-kun!”

“Rock, paper, scissors, loser gets Samu,” Atsumu said, making a fist. 

Your mom laughed as Osamu gasped in offense. 

“Sorry, Samu, but I want to win tomorrow,” you said, holding up a fist. 

In the end, Atsumu ended up stuck with Osamu and was still complaining when he left. 

“Bye, Mom,” you mumbled tiredly as your mom packed her bags in the car. 

“Bye, sweetie,” she said, hugging you tightly. “Tell Osamu I said bye.”

“I will,” you said. As she pulled off, you walked back into the house. You padded down the hallway and almost turned into your room when you remembered Osamu was currently laying down all alone. 

You turned into his room and carefully crawled into his arms.

“Good morning, baby,” he mumbled, pulling you closer to him. 

“Morning, daddy,” you said. You smirked as his eyes opened slightly.

“Oh?” He questioned. You rolled him over to his back and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips.

“Wanna feel you,” you mumbled, rolling your hips against his. 

“G’head, baby,” he said, holding your hips. You ran your hands along his thick chest and stomach, stopping to play with his pierced nipples.

He hissed softly.

“Sensitive?” You asked, pinching his nipple. He nodded. You leaned down and sucked one into your mouth, flicking your tongue against the cool metal. You teased the hardening bud then switched to the other one, only completely pulling away when they were shining with spit and swollen. 

“Pretty,” you muttered. You kissed up his neck, sucking and biting at his slightly prickly skin. 

“D’ya jus’ call me pretty?” Osamu asked as you nibbled at his jawline. 

“You are,” you said, pecking his lips. You shimmied down his body, tugging his briefs off and tossing them to the floor. You palmed his hardening cock until it was bobbing heavily against your hand.

“Wanna ride you,” you said, straddling him again. You ground your wet folds against his cock. 

“I wanna fold ya in half, princess,” Osamu said, holding your hips. “Throw yer legs over my shoulders and pound yer cute, lil pussy until ya cry.”

“No reason we can’t do both,” you said, reaching down to line his cock up with your dripping core. “We have all day.”

“‘m not lettin’ ya leave this bed,” he said. You sank down on his cock with a soft moan. 

“Daddy,” you whimpered as his cock nudged your abused cervix. 

“Take it all, baby, I know ya can,” he said, holding your hips tightly. You let him hold up as he pounded into you, fucking past your cervix with one, quick thrust. 

“Samu!” You moaned loudly, digging your nails into his shoulders. You bounced on his cock in time with his thrusts.

“Takin’ daddy’s cock so well, look at ya,” he grunted. “Such a lil princess, wanting to ride daddy’s cock and not being able to take it all without daddy’s help.”

“S’too big,” you whined as his apadravya dragged against that spongy spot inside you.

“Ya jus’ need a lil’ help, baby,” Osamu said, hands tightening on your hips. “Yer daddy’s little girl, after all.”

You moaned as he pulled you down, your chests flush against each other. He smacked your ass as you bit at his chest. 

“Can feel ya clenchin’ ’round me, go ‘head and cum for me, princess,” Osamu grunted. You cried out, your cunt walls squeezing him as you squirted around his cock.

“Good girl,” he praised before flipping you over to your back. Osamu hovered over you, kissing your lips gently before pushing your legs up against your chest. 

“Daddy!” You cried as he continued to thrust into you. Your legs shook with overstimulation as he pressed two fingers against your clit. 

“Want ya to make a mess for me,” he said, flicking your swollen clit. “Want ya to squirt around my cock again.”

“Harder, Samu, please!” You begged, gripping the white sheets underneath you. Osamu braced himself against the bed as he pounded into you harder. 

“Gonna fill ya up all day,” he grunted. “‘Til yer swollen with my seed. Gonna be all fucked out and dumb when I’m finished with ya. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Uh-huh,” you moaned, nodding. “Want daddy to breed me until it sticks! Wanna be full of you!”

Osamu grabbed your face roughly, forcing your mouth open. “Tongue out,” he ordered. Your tongue lolled out, drool dripping onto your chin. “Good girl.”

He spat on your tongue before kissing you messily, spit covering both of your chins and thin strands of saliva connecting you two when he pulled away. 

“Gonna cum,” you gasped as he pinched your clit. He leaned up, watching you squirm as he relentlessly rutted into you.

“Squirt around my cock, baby,” he said, strumming your clit. “Come on, daddy wants ya to make a mess on him.”

You let out a high pitched moan as he pressed down on your bladder.

“No, no, daddy, gonna make a mess!” You squealed. 

“Come on, princess,” he muttered, pushing down harder. “Make a mess on daddy.”

You cried loudly as cum gushed out of you, covering Osamu’s stomach and chest.

“Fuck,” Osamu groaned, balls tightening as he painted your walls white. “Good girl.”

You breathed heavily as Osamu pulled out of you and collapsed next to you. 

“Daddy,” you breathed, cuddling into his side. “Didn’t know I could cum that hard.”

“Me either, baby,” he mumbled, pulling you closer to him. “Ya did so good, princess.”

“I made a mess,” you said.

“Just like daddy asked,” he said. “Ya want daddy to clean ya up?”

“Please,” you mumbled. Osamu stood up and lifted you easily, carrying you to the shower. He cleaned both of you off quickly before running a bath in the large bathtub. 

“Ya want anything, princess?” Osamu asked as you leaned back in the large tub.

“Join me,” you said. Osamu climbed in behind you, wrapping his arms around you. You leaned against his chest and relaxed into him. 

“This is so bittersweet,” Osamu said, rubbing his hand over your stomach soothingly.

“Why?” You asked.

“I just wish I had met ya first,” Osamu said. “Before yer mom. Now, I’ll always be the guy that got with his stepdaughter.”

“Hey, you didn’t raise me or anything,” you said. “It’s not like you’re my father figure or anything. You’re only four years older than me. If anything, my mom’s the weird one for marrying a guy her child’s age.”

“I really, really like ya.” Osamu said, nuzzling your neck. “More than I’ve ever liked anyone.”

“I really, really like you, too,” you said, smiling. You rested your hands on Osamu’s as he pressed small kisses up your neck. “I thought you were the most handsome man I’d ever seen when we first met. Nearly took my breath away.”

“I thought ya were the most beautiful woman,” Osamu said. “Couldn’t take my eyes off ya.”

You lifted his hand to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his skin. 

“I’m falling in love with ya,” he mumbled against your skin. “This is the closest to love at first sight anyone has ever been.”

You kissed his hand again.

“What the fuck is this?”

[reidsnose]

sticky notes (spencer reid x reader) (platonic!baux reader)

overview: reader leaves and recieves a passive aggressive sticky note before going on a case

genre: fluff and humor?

a/n: i thought of this last night while i was trying to go to sleep and i could not stop thinking about that one vine and its also super snowy where i live lol. anyway i wrote it today throughout the school day and couldnt wait to put it on here :)

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masterlist

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'whoever used the last sugar packet, your moms a hoe.'

you let out a small chuckle and stuck the sticky not to the container that usually held packets of sugar before taking a sip of your bitter, unsweetened coffee that you would have to deal with for the rest of the day.

"i hope hotch didn't take it," prentiss laughed, peering over at the note.

"everyone knows hotch drinks his coffee black." you retorted.

"no only you know that because you were his assistant before you joined the team," she joked, resulting in you sending a light elbow to her side. "you know we are handwriting analysts. everyones going to know you wrote that."

"except that they wont because i type everything. besides, i dont really think anyone on the team wont take the joke." you chuckled, pushing the door open with your free hand and heading into the bullpen.

"briefing room in 5 minutes, we have a case," hotch called from the balcony.

"theres fresh coffee in the break room, i feel like were going to need it," you said to the rest of the team that were sitting at there desks.

they all eagerly got up, ready for a fresh, hot drink to wake them up. you smiled as you walked to the briefing room, standing by your unassigned assigned seat. you took a sip of your drink, making a face at the bitter taste.

"why is your beautiful face scrunched up?" Garcia asked, setting down files in front of all the empty seats.

"someone took the last sugar." you stated simply.

"i have some in the batcave, youre always welcome" she winked, sending you a warm smile which you gladly returned.

"youre the best."

"yeah i know," she answered before the other agents began filing in, Spencer taking a seat next to you. "alright crime fighters, today youre all headed to snowy Alaska."

"actually," rossi looked at hotch and then garcia before continuing, "Garcia i think youre coming too."

"sir?" she looked over at hotch.

"dave is right. the connection will be spotty anyway, it would be best if you came a long and worked from the precinct." hotch confirmed.

"oh. alright." she obliged before continuing with the details of the case.

(a/n: im waaayyyy too lazy to write a whole case)

"wheels up in 5, it will take a while to get there and we dont have time to waste." hotch said at the end of the briefing before walking out.

"oh shoot i left my phone in the break room," i whispered, smacking my forehead with my palm.

"do you want me to wait for you?" spencer offered.

"no its ok," you smiled, jogging down the stairs.

"ill take your go bag. hurry i dont know if i can convince them not to leave without you!" he called after me, a giggle escaping his throat at his own joke.

"thanks! it'll be their loss anyway!" you laughed, as you sped walked to the break room. "there you are." you whispered to your phone that was sitting on the counter.

your eyes drifted to the note you had left earlier only it was gone. a new note sat in its place, a reply scrawled on it.

'ill have you know my mother is a very nice lady'

you smiled and rolled your eyes, slipping the note into your pocket as you walked briskly towards the jet. you walked out and saw reid waiting for you at the door of the jet, motioning frantically for you to board. you had taken a little too long looking at the note.

"10 more seconds before you're officially late!" he yelled, looking at his watch.

you broke out into a sprint, running as fast as you possibly could, trying to get across the runway in time.

"dont leave without me!" you yelled out, knowing they wouldn't.

you looked at the windows, seeing the team's faces pressed against the glass, watching amused.

"5 seconds!" he warned as you neared the stairs. "3..." almost there! "2..." just a few more steps. "1!" his arms shot up as you pushed past him into the jet, just in the nick of time.

"wow im impressed pretty lady!" morgan laughed, giving you a high-five which you exasperatedly accepted.

"have a seat y/l/n, we have a long flight." hotch said. you began thinking he was made at you but then you saw him trying to stifle a smile, "i dont think ive even seen you run like that in the field."

he held out his fist which you bumped with your own before flopping breathlessly down onto one of the chairs on the jet.

~time skip to the end of the case because i feel like it~

you walked out of the police department, watching your own breath swirl around the air in front of you.

"could you believe that detective?" jj scoffed walking with you towards the suvs in the parking lot.

"i know he was so...creepy." you agreed, "if i smelled his coffee breath one more time id take his tiny d-"

you didnt get to finish your sentence, though; you felt a cold snowball bash against the back of your head.

"gotta go!" jj laughed, hopping into one of the last suvs and driving off.

"whoever threw that snowball, your moms a hoe!" you yelled out crouching down to gather some snow.

"what?" spencer yelled, emerging from behind a trashcan.

"IT WAS YOU!" you laughed, throwing a snowball and hitting him straight in the chest.

"wait no. what did you just say?" he asked, eyes wide.

"i said whoever threw that snowball, your moms a hoe." you stated, suddenly feeling bad, "but not your mom, diana is-"

"a very nice lady." he finished, reaching into his pocket and fishing out a crumpled little paper.

"oh my gosh," you breathed, pulling out a note from your own pocket.

"i had a feeling it was you!" he laughed.

you raised your eyebrows, "yeah right! you had no clue!"

"i totally did! i was like, 'hmmm who in the office talks like this? oh yeah my idiot best friend'." he countered, smirking.

"well i had a feeling it was you too!" you lied, crossing your arms.

"youre lying!" he laughed.

"no im not!"

"yes you are! you have a tell!"

"i do?!"

"yes! you purse your-" he swiftly reached to the floor and picked up a small amount of snow, wiping it across your mouth, "-lips."

the cool snow melted quickly on your now very warm face, causing you to instinctively wipe your it with your sleeve, "oh its on!"

snowballs were flying left and right in the nearly empty parking lot, seeking refuge all over your bodies. you watched him sneakily duck behind a trashcan, thinking you hadn't seen him. letting out a small chuckle you creeped towards the trashcan, standing behind him as he peered his head around the other side, looking for where you had gone. you took a small amout of snow and reached your arm around his head, wiping it against his mouth as he had. he jumped letting out a small scream before turning around and latching his arms around your waist.

he picked you up and spun you around, loosing his footing on the slippery, causing a strange mix of a laugh and a scream to escape your mouth. he fell back on a fresh layer of snow, with a dull thump. you fell directly on top of him, your foggy breaths melding together as your laughs started fading. his eyes flickered from your eyes down to your lips, a new rouge gracing his cheeks and nose, one that would be there regardless of the cold.

"ca-can i kiss you?" he asked, looking back up at your eyes.

"please." you smiled, heart close to bursting out of your chest as he closed the gap between you.