#and no one has yet. its 11pm. no one will at this point.

[summerlycoris]

Guess whos potentially working a triple tomorrow?????????

Im going to transform into my final form if this shit keeps up i swear to god.

[theplanetplu20]

Mary Jane (All night long)

pairing(s): larissa weems x reader

warning(s): nsfw, smut, praise kink maybe sorta

summary: smut inspired by the song mary jane (all night long) by mary j. blige

word count: 2.1k

A/N: honestly this is pretty vanilla but like really loving sex which is weird since i don’t usually read or write that but idk i just wanted it to be sweet and like just taking my time to appreciate this beautiful woman damn so idk how i feel about it but here’s the song if u wanna listen and pls lmk what u think :)

You sigh slightly annoyed. It's nearing 11pm and Larissa has still yet to come to bed. You know she often gets caught up in her work not paying attention to the time, but she needs to learn to stop overworking herself. Although I love how passionate she is about being the principal here, it's one of the many reasons I fell in love with her. What I need right now though is for her to be passionate about me, not silly paperwork. I swing my legs off the bed, shove my feet into my slippers and throw on my robe determined to get Larissa to leave the work till the morning. I shuffle out of the door of the attached living space and into her office seeing her exactly where I expected her to be. She doesn’t seem to notice I've entered the room so I make my way over to her desk and move to stand behind her.

“Rissa?” I say softly lifting my hands to rest on her arms then moving up to her shoulders to message them slowly. She groans clearly stiff from the stress of the hard day she’s had.

“Darling… I still have a lot of work I need to do.” she protests knowing what i’ve come for.

“Nothing i know you can’t do tomorrow” I say continuing to message the kinks out of her neck and upper back. She sinks into my touch a little before pulling away realizing she was getting distracted.

“No I have to get this done tonight I have a ton of meetings tomorrow” She says, rolling her shoulders back and attempting to get back to work. I quickly spin her chair around so she’s facing me

“Your first meeting isn’t until 12 pm because your 10am is canceled and you know I know this so don’t fight me honey” I say giving her a slightly pointed look so she knows i’m serious about not giving up.

ooh baby not tonight i don’t wanna fuss and fight i just wanna make it right

“common baby, you’ve had a hard day, don't you wanna come to bed with me” I say crawling into her lap trying my best to convince her. I feel her arms move around my waist and a smirk makes its way onto my face knowing I've won.

ooh, there’s work to do i wanna get real close to you i wanna get you in the mood

I grab her face lightly, pulling her face close to mine so that our lips are barely touching. I run my thumb over her cheek lovingly and I can tell she’s getting antsy from the anticipation. Her hands grip my waist harder and I pull her in for a crushing kiss not wanting to keep her waiting too long. She immediately opens her mouth for me to explore with my tongue. She moans loudly when I run my tongue along hers. Our lips fit together perfectly and every time we kiss I swear we kiss like it could be our last. I pulled back to suck on her bottom lip looking into her hooded eyes before letting it go. We sit there with me still in her lap breathing heavily for a minute while I admire my work of smearing her lipstick.

All the things you want to do

I bring my hands up to her hair slowly pulling out each bobby pin and messaging her scalp lightly as I go along letting her hair flow down her shoulders. She always looks so gorgeous with her hair down. I get up slowly off her lap and offer her hand. She immediately puts her hand in mine letting me pull her up into my waiting embrace. I run my hands under her button up to feel her skin on mine. I pull her down a little letting her know I want her to lean down and kiss me. This time our kiss is a lot slower. I take my time enjoying the way her lips feel on mine. I start pulling her towards the door to our living space, not breaking away from her. As soon as I get us through the door I start pulling away at her clothes, leaving her undergarments and throwing the rest across the room not caring where they end up. I back her up till she’s pressed up against our bedroom door and I finally break away to move down her neck trying my hardest to resist leaving marks where they are would be obviously visible. My leg finds its way between her thighs and she whimpers when the fabric of her underwear hits her clit just right. I feel her hands pulling face back up towards her so I let her guide my way back to her lips, her tongue immediately finding its way into my mouth as she grinds down on my thigh. She moans loudly into my mouth and I bring my hands to her hips to guide her movements to keep a consistent pace. When I feel her movement get more frantic and her breathing gets louder and more uneven I pull back not wanting her to cum just yet. She whimpers loudly at the loss of contact.

“shh, just relax and i’ll take care of you” I make sure i’m holding her tight and off of the door before opening it and making our way towards the bed. I push her lightly down onto it looking down into her eyes.

and anytime you want me

“back up honey” i say encouraging her to lay down on the bed to which she shuffled up so her head is near the headboard. I stay standing at the end of the bed admiring my beautiful goddess on our bed. I lean down to kiss her ankle and up her leg then back down to her other ankle to kiss back up her other leg before kissing right above her slit over her underwear making larissa breathe hitch. I make my way up her stomach towards her chest kissing as much open space as possible before sneaking my arms around her back to unclasp her bra, throwing it out of my way. I first cup her breast lightly running a thumb over her nipples before flicking them slightly causing her to jump a bit craving more. I lower my mouth onto her right nipple, taking it into my mouth, sucking and flicking it with my tongue, gaining beautiful moans in return. I move to the other one giving it equal attention. After I'm done fully appreciating her chest I kiss up her neck moving to look into her eyes.

i’m saying that i love you every day and i know that you love me, baby admit it

“i love you”

“i love you” we both whisper at the same time making us burst out giggling for a moment before we quiet down. It just feels like we’re the only two people on the earth right now. I crash my lips onto hers again, missing her mouth on mine.

I feel her hands tug on my shirt so I pull back to sit on her hips while I pull my shirt over head feeling her eyes on me the entire time. As soon as the fabric falls to the floor Larissa's hands move up my chest. I let her feel along my body as she pleases, content to entertain her for a moment before moving away to take off my pants and underwear. I look up and notice Larissa's annoyed expression at my absence switching to hunger at seeing my exposed body. I chuckle lightly.

“I'm back, don't worry love” I say crawling back on top of her to sit back on her hips again. She moans feeling some of the wetness from my cunt on her stomach and I roll my hips involuntarily trying to get some kind of friction. Her hands immediately made their way to my hips to aid my movements “So needy” I remarked, actually quite happy about this fact “before you were ready to ditch me for paperwork” I decided to tease her a bit about it. she whimpers and I know she’s soaking wet already. Her hands make their way up my thighs going to touch me but before they can make it I take her hands and push them back so that they’re trapped above her head. “how about you make it up to me and I'll make my angel cum so hard she sees white? hmm how does that sound?” she nods her head frantically, liking the idea. “words, honey. I wanna hear you”

“Yes, please” She says itching to touch me

“good girl” I say before grinding my hips down to meet my clit with the skin of her stomach. I let go of her arms and let her effortlessly flip us over so she’s now hovering over top of me. She leans in and kisses me sweetly before moving down down my body leaving soft red marks from her lipstick. She finally makes her way to where I need her most, leaving kisses along the insides of my thighs. I put my hands in her soft hair tugging lightly to move her closer to my core. “no teasing” I whine needing her fingers in me now. She moves so her lips are just ghosting over my clit when I suddenly feel her blow on my clit making me shiver and cry out desperately. Her lips suddenly wrap around my clit sucking lightly. I moan out loudly not being able to nor wanting to stifle the sound. My hips start involuntarily bucking up at her face. Her strong arms find their way to my thighs to force them down causing me to moan out louder. She brings a finger up to my entrance circling around it teasingly for a second before pushing two fingers deep in me. I grip her hair head causing Larissa to moan against my clit sending a shock wave through my body. My body can hardly take it anymore as my thighs shake and my eyes roll back into my head.

Give me all your love and don’t stop my love’s waiting when you reach the top

“Larissa! Fuck i’m gonna cum” Her fingers slow down their relentless thrusting as I ride out my orgasm eventually pulling out. I whine at the empty feeling. I open my eyes to look down at her just in time to see her pull her fingers into her mouth effectively cleaning them off. I watch her absolutely mesmerized before pulling her up by the neck to kiss me passionately. I taste myself on her tongue making me kiss her harder. We both pull away breathless. We both just stay there smiling at each other for a moment catching our breath enjoying each other's presence until I break the silence impatient to taste my wife. “Your turn” I grin widely at her “why don’t you sit on my face, pretty girl?” My hand comes up to rest on her hip rubbing the skin there before prompting her to climb up my body so that her pussy is resting just above my face.

Come into my bedroom, honey what i got will make you spend money (all night long)

I bring my hands up to her thighs pulling her closer to my face so that most of her weight is resting on me. I drag my tongue from her entrance to her clit flicking it lightly causing her to twitch on top of me. I flick at her clit a couple more times before sucking on it. I can hear Larissa's moans muffled by her thighs, spurring me on in my movements. I lick and suck at her clit while she grinds down on my tongue. I take one of the hands holding down Larissa's thighs and push two fingers deep into her cunt searching for that spot I know makes her scream. I curl my fingers expertly effectively drawing screams and moans out of Larissa's mouth. I felt her tighten around my fingers letting me know she was close to cumming. “Come for me angel” I say, having to pull away from her clit for a second before going right back to my movements. Larissa thighs tense around my head and I feel her cum start dripping down my hand so I pull away drinking every last drop she had to offer. She slumps down exhausted, my hands being the only thing holding her up. After a minute of regulating her breathing she moved down to cuddle into my side.

“Do you need anything, my love?” I ask her to softly brushing the hair out of her face.

“No, that's okay darling. I'm perfectly content right now, i just want cuddles” She replies, nuzzling her face into my skin.

“Well that i can do” I hug her tightly and pull the sheet over us. I press a kiss to her temple and cuddle in closer.

[mfmmflashchallenge]

The Flashfic Challenge is back!

Poor Phryne has had a bit of a shock, she just received word that the MFMM Flashfic Challenge is back!

That’s right, people of the internet, please make a note in your diaries because on 25 February 2023 we will be doing another Flashfic Challenge and we really want you all to join in.

It’s been so long since we did this, and we know that this absolutely amazing fandom has grown since the last time so let’s explain really quickly (Well, actually this does go on a bit and we’re very sorry.):

The flashfic challenge is a writing prompt challenge where members of the fandom provide prompts and then fics are written based on those prompts. Which seems simple enough, but that’s not really how we roll, so there’s more:

Fic writers only have 2 hours from when they receive their prompts until they must have posted their fics on AO3. (Which explains why Phryne looks so worried.)

Because the fandom is spread all over the globe, we run 4 heats so we hopefully have one at a time of day that works for most people:

Time slot 1: 10am GMT / 2am PST / 5am EST / 11am CET / 9pm AEDT Time slot 2: 4pm GMT / 8am PST / 11am EST / 5pm CET / 3am AEDT (Sunday) Time slot 3: 10pm GMT / 2pm PST / 5pm EST / 11pm CET / 9am AEDT (Sunday) Time slot 4: 4am GMT (Sunday) / 8pm PST / 11pm EST / 5am CET (Sunday) / 3am AEDT (Sunday)

Prompts are submitted by members of the fandom - you don’t need to submit prompts in order to write, and you aren’t excluded from writing if you do submit some. You can do one or the other or both. (Yes, it is also okay to just submit prompts.) We then divvy up the prompts so we have a reasonable amount for each heat and then prompt lists are published when each heat begins.

There are 2 ways to receive the prompts: You can follow this blog, where they’ll be posted when the heat begins, or you can sign up to receive the prompts for whatever heats you want by email. Signing up for prompt emails does NOT mean you’re obligated to write anything, it just means you’ll receive the prompts and what happens next is 100% your business. If you want the prompts by email, just send a message to mfmmflashchallenge@gmail.com no later than February 22nd and let us know which heat(s) you’d like us to email you and that’s it.

Each heat has its own collection on AO3 where writers can publish their fics, and those collections all close when their respective heats end, so after the two hours are over. Because writing can be stressful and sometimes it takes longer or life gets in the way mid-heat, we also have a flash free collection where any fics that are completed later can be published. That collection will not close at any point and can be added to whenever you want.

Each flashfic challenge has a theme for the prompts and this time the theme is AO3 tags. That means anything you could imagine being a tag on AO3, so either a warning label, a descriptive tag, or a more random freeform tag. Anything goes and feel free to get creative! We’re asking for these tags in sets of three, so for example: “Why Is This Happening?? // Domesticity // Also Cats Can Talk Now” Writers can of course add as many of their own tags to their fics as they want, all we ask is that you use all three tags in the set you choose, and that they apply to your fic in some way.

We’d love it if you send us your prompts no later than February 20th by emailing mfmmflashchallenge@gmail.com. (And you can send as many sets as you’d like!)

Hopefully that’s it - the only rule that’s left is: Have fun! It’s fine if your version of fun is the traditional writer’s agony, obviously! (And we’re not thinking of anyone in particular as we type that. At all.)

Oh, yes, and the most important rule of all: It doesn’t matter if you’re new to the fandom or new to ficcing, or if you just arrived here and you don’t know anyone yet, or you used to hang out here but haven’t been back for ages. Everyone is welcome and we’d LOVE for you to join us in this madness! Submit prompts, write fic, and (hopefully) READ fic.

Come play with us! ❤︎ 

@whopooh​ & @olderbynow​

The TL;DR for the experienced Flashers:

We’re back(!) and we’re ficcing on February 25th

The prompt theme is AO3 tags and prompts need to be submitted by February 20th to mfmmflashchallenge@gmail.com

Sign up to receive prompts by email by February 22nd by sending a message to mfmmflashchallenge@gmail.com

[artistakai]

OKAY LAST ONE THAT'S DETAILED

MORPHY, THE FIRST PERIDOT EVER MADE

She's ancient, like, 50k years old?? Or less. Idk yet.

After dozens of thousands of years of work for Homeworld she got sick of working for Homeworld, faked her own shattering and fled to a rogue planet without a star system. The planet's climate is very warm due to it being an ancient planet and having a star at its core (it's a really weird space theory, loll). The fauna on the planet got used to no light at all due to having no star system and developed antennae instead of eyes. Morphy ended up living there and reverting back to her fully feral instincts. After a while, she went corrupt.

Nyll and Peridot, intrigued with the planet's fauna and flora, tracked it down and visited it. There, they bumped into corrupted Morphy - eyeless and mad, in her full centipede form. After a fight they bubbled her and brought her back to Steven to help with the corruption (at this point they're a peridot rescue team lolll).

Then I... Actually don't know what, she's pretty fresh. I'm still brainstorming on that.

If it comes to colors, she has medium dark hair and skin darker than the hair. She's very pale due to her age and blind. Her code is 1A1A-1AA. She was made on Homeworld.

Very interesting, Can't wait to hear more when there's more lore info!

[supercantaloupe]

don giovanni at wolf trap opera! this is long <3

right to the top of my list of don giovanni productions! while it does not take the place of my absolute favorite this was a REALLY solid production that i THOROUGHLY enjoyed; it might just be my new second place! desperately wish it was recorded for streaming or at the very least not a one-night-only performance but alas, at least i get to feel special about having been able to see it at all. director john de los santos you will always be famous to ME

the orchestra was definitely lacking some of the Oomph i really love in a good live performance but i think this is purely do to the acoustics of the theater being open air rather than the fault of like. the orchestra themselves. i thought they did a good job other than a couple of points when they were a little bit out of sync with the singers. great mandolin solo in deh vieni!

vocally speaking i thought ottavio (lunga eric hallam) and anna (renee richardson) were the standouts but everyone in the cast was very well suited to their roles. don giovanni (cory mcgee) was great but i am just personally not as into deh vieni being sung with That Much vibrato and grandeur behind it (i prefer it to sound more intimate) but that's me picking nits here

okay leporello is always gay in my heart but this is easily the most OVERTLY gay i've seen him yet. dramatic af. limp wristing everywhere. you can absolutely see why he follows the don around despite the Everything Else; he's obviously in love. it was pretty neat to see that played as obviously as it was for once!

definitely these are not MY versions of the characters exactly; leporello is a bit too "willing/enjoying the don's shenanigans", elvira a bit too bitchy, etc for my own personal interpretations of them. HOWEVER the production really COMMITTED to its characterization and i respect that. even if my own interpretations are a bit different, it was easy to follow along and still like the characters as they were presented. so kudos for that!

they made the don so. flamboyant is not exactly the right term for it because he wears mostly black with a bit of gold/dark purple accents throughout the show. but. there was a very strong Energy to him. the slightly silly mustache. the eyeshadow. the dangly earrings and sparkly necklace. the see-thru lacy black shirt. the way he moves like a dancer. being SHIRTLESS in the lass scene, possibly with glitter on his bare chest. Mother Fucker. absolutely captivating to watch. i hate him and i'm obsessed

this also has to be the FUNNIEST production i've yet to see; possibly this is due to it being the first production i've seen live in the theater surrounded by an audience, which i think always heightens the energy as compared to watching a video at home or even in a cinema, but regardless this was a really funny production of don giovanni. i'm a big fan; don giovanni IS a dramma giocoso, and i think a LOT of productions these days tend to forget that it's supposed to be at least kind of funny here and there. it should still be dramatic and emotional at times, yes, but you can (and should) strike a balance. and while this production was perhaps slightly less emotional than others, it was really funny in a way i haven't seen before in don giovanni, which thrilled me.

a lot of it came down to little acting choices (blocking, gestures, tone of voice, etc; elvira threw a lot of shit across the stage in anger in this. good for her), some of it on creative liberty with the translation (eg. elvira calling the don a straight up jackass and bastard at Multiple Points lol), and a couple of tiny additions that amused me. there were SO many little moments that amused me.

i'd say the biggest thing that disappointed me with this production was the number of cuts they made. it seems like they were working with a very strict deadline of "final curtain at 11pm sharp" (to their credit, the show ended At 11pm Sharp) and decided to trim some bits deemed the most inessential for that reason. with that in mind i think the choices they made make Sense, but it's still kind of disappointing when you're expecting a particular aria and it never shows up, or if you're a weirdo like me who basically has the score memorized at this point and you're like "wait a minute there's supposed to be more recit here". the show started at 8pm but it was originally scheduled for a downbeat at 7:30; i'm not sure what the reason for the change is, but i can't help but wonder if those cuts wouldn't have been made if they'd had those thirty extra minutes to work with.

at any rate, if this production ever got revived (either here or somewhere else, ideally without cuts), i would be THRILLED to see it again, and heartily recommend it to anyone else who's even remotely interested. cuts aside (and really that's my only big criticism of the entire production) it was a FANTASTIC experience and i LOVED going to see it so so much <3

also final note on the venue. glad i brought my little handheld fan because an open air theater in virginia in august is STIFLING lol. that heat and humidity really lingers after sundown! but the seats were SURPRISINGLY comfortable for the three hours, moreso than a lot of, like, proper theaters i've been to lmao.

[beingbigbrother]

Everything you need to know before BBUK returns tomorrow night

There are just over 24 hours left until Big Brother UK returns to our screens - after a nearly five-year absence.

The eye (and the ads)

Despite the show's ad campaign starting off strong with an eye reveal teaser that broadcast simultaneously across the ITV network, the promo campaign has felt decidedly "ehh" ever since.

The new eye logo is... a lot? And probably just about what you'd expect an "ITV2 Big Brother eye" to look like, in that it contains hashtags, faux YouTube play buttons/Instagram icons, and pouty lips. 🤷

Mind you:

BBUK eyes never quite look "right" until you see them in the opening titles, SO THERE'S STILL HOPE

It's definitely, definitely not the worst eye ever, so there's that

The theme tune

While we're talking branding, the iconique Big Brother UK theme tune has received its first remix in... well, in a long time. "Nineteen years" is the obvious answer, since that's when the show's opening theme last got tweaked - but we don't actually know how, or where, or if this new remix will be used in the show.

We're amazed by how it sounds "stripped back" and somehow also "overly busy" at the same time???

The House

Remember how they used to do those cool "House glimpse" ads in the Channel 4 era? They were THE BEST because we used to be able to pore over every detail and do a nice write-up and post loads of pictures, but this year we've just had to put up with a handful of drone shots of the new Big Brother garden.

Until yesterday, that is, when we got our first proper press photos! But they were still of the garden. 🤔

Picture credits: ITV/Initial, via bbspy

It looks very nice! Arguably... suspiciously nice? Like, too nice for a fucking six-week run? Weird.

Picture credit: ITV/Initial, via BIGBROTHER+

The new Diary Room chair also got a look-in, and it is looking -- as BIGBROTHER+ rightly points out -- very Big Brother Australia.

What's fascinating about BBAU "fans" is that they all, without exception, hate everything about BBAU with a burning passion. But as outsiders, we feel confident saying BBAU comparisons can only be a good thing.

So there.

And literally as we were putting this post together, we got a glimpse at the (unfinished) main living area of the House:

Picture credit: ITV/Initial

It looks very large, and quite BBUSA-y! Again: this is supposedly a SIX-WEEK RUN OF BIG BROTHER, what right does it have looking anywhere near this good?

The Housemates

Obviously we don't have any details to share, yet, but we think there will be 16 of them, judging by ITV's recent Tweetstorm. Xtorm? Whatever.

Picture credit: ITV/Initial, via BIGBROTHER+

Including one Housemate (above, top-left corner) whomst wears coloured contact lenses, which is surely a WORLD EXCLUSIVE.

I'm wary of sounding like a broken record, but: SIXTEEN HOUSEMATES FOR A SIX-WEEK RUN???

There are probably going to be new Housemates in the middle. Let's say, two double-evictions, tops? Are there going to be thirteen Housemates in the final? ???WHAT IS HAPPENING???

When and how to watch it

BBUK kicks off tomorrow, Sunday, 8th October at 9pm on ITV1, ITV2, and ITVX. The launch show is followed at 10:30pm by new sister show Big Brother: Late & Live.

Subsequent BB episodes will air on ITV2 and ITVX, Sunday-Friday at 9pm, followed by Late & Live at 10pm.

And there's live streaming from the House every night from 11pm to 2am on ITVX - on Saturdays it's 9pm to 2am, so we get two bonus hours! Whee! 🥳

[magickhajiit]

Mayan War (Chapter 1)

Rating- Teen and up Audiences

Warning- No warnings apply

Any suggestions for a better title would be appreciated. It's 11pm here and that's all I have in me at this point.

Other SOA stories here

Chibs had left the bedroom window open again, that’s the first thing Juice notices when he wakes. Cold air has crept into the room through the small gap, tendrils of it reaching for Juice under the thick blanket. Trying to insulate himself he tucks the edges under him, contemplating whether he should wait for Chibs to return or close the window himself.     

In the end, he slips out from under the covers, moving to the window the glare of a street light bouncing off metal catches his attention. It's reflecting off a bike in the front garden, not Chibs or his own he knows both of theirs are locked in the garage at night. Leaning closer Juice can just make out letters adorning the left flank, SOA before his breath fogs the clear glass and the sight vanishes. Those letters mark it as Tig’s bike though why he’s visiting at 3AM is anyone's guess.    

Creeping closer to the bedroom door he eases it open slowly, voices filter up the stairs, stemming from the kitchen. Chibs’ Glaswegian drawl is familiar and easy to recognise and after a few moments, Tig’s voice accompanies it. Just the two of them it sounds like. Padding out onto the stairway he grips the wooden banister, the cold seeping into his palms. Leaning over it the bodiless voices are clearer, and yet, still indistinguishable.   

The foyer lights are off, leaving the lower floor cast in shadows, the glow of the moonlight outside only allowing him to see the outline of the furniture within. With curiosity fuelling him and the conversation getting no easier to make out he decides to risk moving further down. Taking the stairs one step at a time, it’s fortunate he has the carpet’s thread count to muffle his footfall. Nearing the bottom, his eyes begin to adjust to the dimness. Adjacent to the back door there’s a hook nailed into the wall, a kutte hanging from it. The reaper printed onto the leather grimly smiles outwards, its eyes emotionless craters, its bones faded to grey by the sun and covered in road dust. Its scythe is frozen, forever caught in the action of slicing down. Juice knows the weapon is made, not from solid steel, but from cotton and thread but still, dark memories flash across his mind, so vivid it feels as though a phantom blade is sinking into his skin once more. On the left a patch with VP is stitched, the edge tinged with an ominous red stain.  

With no other kuttes in sight, he assumes their VP came alone tonight. Angling himself to the side he can peer through the doorway left ajar, he can see Tig Trager. The older man’s sat by the table, a coffee mug laying untouched before him, new enough that steam still streams from it. His curly hair is made wilder as he runs his hands through it restlessly, the blackness of it interrupted by greying strands near the root.   

‘’What did they say?’’ Chibs has gone for something stronger than coffee, a bottle of Jack Daniels sits upon the tabletop, its cap removed and a glass forgone.   

‘’It's bad Chibs, they want you to greenlight it.’’    

‘’We’ve had a truce for years now.’’ Even without seeing him Juice knows he’s doing that thing where he pinches the bridge of his nose, with his eyes closed and his eyebrows drooping down. It’s the same face he pulls every time a prospect screws up.  

‘’I get why they want it. That girl found him in a goddam barrel.’’   

Now Juice sees why he wasn’t invited to the meeting. Ever since Stockton, he hasn’t been involved in the darker elements of the club. Any information that’s deemed triggering or upsetting is kept far away from him. He exists in a bubble, not part of the rest of the world but still different from his brothers, left to observe from the periphery of the outlaw life. His working days are filled with signing papers and fixing engines, the monotony occasionally broken up by a hacking job usually courtesy of Happy and his murderous antics. Juice never has the stomach to ask what happened to the people he’s asked to find, though he’s sure a quick google search will bring up that they disappeared at night under mysterious circumstances.    

From little titbits of information Juice has managed to scrape together in recent months he knows Montez's cousin had gone missing, a couple of days after Chibs had led a small trip to Santra Padre. His disappearance was closely followed by Montez himself, vanishing in the middle of the night like an apparition.  With that context in mind, he tries to piece the conversation together, evidently either Montez or Tommy had been found.   

His stomach sinks down to his feet as these dark thoughts swirl around his head and the imagery of Montez’s bloody corpse flashes across his mind, riddled with bullet holes. On impulse, Juice moves forward, in his concentration failing to notice the cat bowl sitting on the last step. As the fish-shaped biscuits sail, the metal bowl hits the ceramic with a clatter, the noise echoing loudly in the quiet. The scrapping of chairs across tiled flooring follows it. The door is quickly flung open and light streams into the foyer, two humanoid shadows appearing within the bright square cutting through the dark. When Juice’s eyes adjust the forms take shape. Chibs is standing there in an off-white vest and a loose pair of worn jeans, his usually neat beard has taken an unkept look and his hair’s been pulled back into a short, rushed ponytail. Tig’s still on the further side of the table, both hands clutching his drawn gun, it’s body remains sleek and shiny in the light whilst the trigger his finger is rubbing is matte, worn down from overuse. The weapon is holstered it as soon as he realizes it's Juice standing in the doorway.     

Juice breaks the oppressive silence, ‘’Hey Tig.’’    

‘’Why are you creeping around, Lad?‘’    

‘’Just coming down for some water?’’ The lie might have come off as more believable if Juice hadn’t posed it as a question.     

The commotion had woken up the cat sleeping on the counter and she chooses now to jump down, landing with a thud she weaves through Chibs’ legs plodding to the biscuits scattered across the floor.    

Waving him in with a sigh Chibs pulls out a chair for him before grabbing a clean cup from the rack. The faucet squeaks as he turns it and as the glass fills Juice takes a moment to observe Tig across the table. The last few days have been scorching in California, and the heat has taken its toll. Tig’s arms are painfully fried below the elbow whilst his nose is a dash of brilliant red amidst his tanned leather-like face, dried skin peeling from the tip of it. Dark glasses cover his eyes but he still looks tired, beaten down. Whilst his appearance has barely altered in the last few years, sitting under the bleak kitchen lights he looks older, like he’s aged a decade this evening alone.     

Sensing the attention Tig meets his gaze, grinning when Chibs sits the drink in front of Juice, kissing his cheek on the way up. They make up a domestic scene that they rarely allow themselves to show. Their Redwood brothers had fortunately never judged their relationship that they couldn’t manage to hide. Chibs was their president and they weren’t going to turn their back on him. It was a refreshing change from Teller’s era when half the table’s loyalty was assured through the use of blackmail and the promise of a drawn-out death if they ever stepped out of line.    

‘’How much did you hear?’’ Tig questions, his gaze unwavering, burning into Juice’s. His ability to pry out information was astounding and had only gotten better with his experience as VP. Chibs had previously been staring off absently across the room but now his attention is locked onto Juice, like a sighthound on a sent. Waiting for him to speak his hand finds the back of Juice’s shoulder, comfortingly rubbing the inked crow residing there.   

‘’Nothing... Something about greenlighting.”    

Chibs looks over at that, and even after all the years when Chibs stands over him like he is now Juice still feels like a prospect being lectured over his idiotic antics.    

‘’It’s nothing to worry about, Juicy.’’ Any following consolation is cut off by the sound of his phone ringing, glancing over he shares a look with Tig that Juice can’t manage to decipher in the short span of time it's there. Whilst Chibs answers the call trying not to convey the exhaustion in his voice, Tig rises up. Progressing around the dining table an arm’s snaked around the youngest man’s shoulders, as he gets to his feet he’s shepherd gently out of the kitchen. Juice cranes his head back as they walk out, only to stop when Tig kicks the door on their way out leaving it to slam with a solid thud.   

‘’Let’s get you back to bed,’’ Tig says, steering them towards the stairway.  

‘’No.’’ The man in front of him had seen him in various lows but Juice had never reached the point where he’s willing to be put to bed like a child up past bedtime. ‘’You’re not done explaining whatever the hell’s happening. Who’s been found?’’ Juice just hopes the other man doesn’t acknowledge the way his voice breaks at the last question.  

‘’No? You’re telling me no? You know what- Juicy can’t this wait until morning?’’  

‘’No.’’ Tig’s temperament has changed drastically in the last few years. He’s matured now he’s not engaged in a daily pissing contest with Jax. Juice knows that if this had happened a few years ago Tig would have dragged him upstairs regardless of his protests. This new change just serves as proof Tig had finally grown up, forty years late but it's better late than never.  

‘’You know if Chibs had just married a croweater, like any other outlaw, I wouldn’t have to do this much arguing.’’  

So rather than dragging him along he adjusts his direction toward the living room instead. Tig lets him go of him as they walk in, confident he’ll stay put. Pulling some blankets from the cupboard he piles them onto the sofa forming a makeshift bed, before he stands back to full height, content to watch Juice stand awkwardly in his own living room.   

Under the weight of the older man’s analysing stare, Juice is uncomfortably reminded of his own attire. Whilst Tig is still wearing his day clothing, a leather kutte covering a black long sleeve shirt, there’s just underwear and one of Chibs’ old hoodies covering Juice, and he’s sure it isn’t covering the hickeys Chibs had painted onto his skin the previous night, scattered around his collar bone. Feeling exposed he futilely tugs at the bottom of his hoodie, ignoring Tig’s smirk at the minor action. 

Breaking the standoff Tig plops himself down on the edge of the sofa, confident Juice would soon follow suit. And he’s right, after a second's hesitation Juice places himself next to him, wrapping the covers around himself in an attempt to restore some modesty.  

‘’It’s nothing I haven’t seen before kid.’’ 

He’s pulled out a pack of smokes and looks on the verge of lighting it but thinks better of it at the last second. Juice knows that must mean shit is hitting the fan again, as it always seemed to do, Tig had been trying to quit for a year, after one of his old military buddies was diagnosed with lung cancer. Even if there wasn’t a packet being fiddled with in the man’s hands Juice would still have known, Tig was a man he’s gotten closer to in the last year, close enough that some days he could read him better than he could Chibs.    

When he first started to prospect neither of them would have thought they’d ever be close. But a bond had since grown. Tig had looked after him when Chibs was on a run, had consoled him when he woke up shaking from dreams of pale hands with Nazi hooks and of icy blue eyes sentencing him to death, he’d even dragged him back to the clubhouse the couple of times Juice had tried to run when the Chinese threat was still immanent. They still bickered like brothers but Tig’s most brutal taunting was now reserved for when prospects were around. He settled for occasionally throwing half-hearted jabs at Juice, always out of earshot of Chibs of course, the Scot had frustratedly babied him ever since Stockton.  

When Tig holds one arm out Juice can’t resist leaning into him, it's nothing like cuddling Chibs where there’s a soft bulk to burrow into but still, he craves the comfort this kind of touch elicits. ‘’Who did they find?’’, Juice asks, only to be shushed for his troubles.  

With answers being withheld and Chibs' voice cut off, it’s easy to let the troubles of the club fade to the back of his mind. As his eyes start to close he pulls the covers a little tighter around him, the blankets are a reminder of how this house no longer feels like it belongs to an outlaw, not since Juice moved in. The blankets and cushions were bought after Juice kept falling asleep on the sofa waiting for Chibs to get back after a run. The kitchen cupboards are now full, whereas before they remained bare and Chibs’ heart was about to explode thanks to the infinite number of Chinese takeout fuelling him. Even for Chibs to consider this house home was abnormal, before, it was used as a storage unit or a place to crash when a clubhouse party got too rowdy. Now it’s full of life when it was once bleak and bare.   

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////  

When Chibs finally manages to end the call Juice has fallen asleep, his head lolling against the leather of Tig’s kutte. The cat walks into the room first, butting the door open enough to fit its vast form through, they can’t get her to drop a few pounds no matter how many diets they put her on. Having stuffed her face she tries to hop onto the sofa, claws rake across the fabric as she scrabbles to get her fat posterior up, succeeding she curls into a tight ball, nose smashed where the sun doesn’t shine, forming a mass ball of dreary orange next to Juice, he stirs but doesn’t yet open his eyes.  

Chibs follows her into the room and without him speaking Tig knows it’s not good news. ‘’You greenlit it.’’  

‘’Aye,’’ before saying anything else he leans forward to scratch behind the cat’s ear, only to pull back swiftly when she recoils and hisses, lengthy teeth on show, the same colour as a rotting lemon. ‘’It was Doc on the phone. He doesn’t want war either.’’  

‘’It’s still Terry pushing it forward?’’ Tig asks.  

‘’He’s got a few of the other lads backing him now.’’   

‘’Terry Drakes?’’ Neither man had noticed Juice waking up till he spoke.  

‘’That’s the one. I sponsored the stupid shit a few years before you rolled up.’’ Tig says.   

Even whilst he’s still grotty with sleep Juice recognizes the name. A couple of months after he was welcomed back he had met Terry Drakes; they’d been invited to a SAMDINO party, Chibs had thought it a great opportunity to restore trust, both in the chapter’s and in Juice’s loyalty.   

The outside of the building was all shiny mental and grey brick, barbed wire lining the fences and reinforced panels on the front gate, a clubhouse designed for war. When they’d rolled up, a prospect, who’d previously been sweeping the courtyard, pulled open the gate for them to ride through. The other few presidents, from the surrounding states, had been waiting by the front door, clearly willing to put the past behind them for the sake of unity. Whilst the other guys had been fondly greeted and Chibs was embraced like a brother by Packer, Juice had been pointedly ignored.  

Part of him had wondered if it was paranoia that was fuelling that idea. Walking into the clubhouse had proved him wrong.  The building was just a single floor but a variety of rooms were stuffed within. The double doors opened to a condensed hallway, to the right of that was a small room with a pool table in the middle, a few patched members milling around. An open doorway led to the main room, it was darker here, the neon lighting leaving the room cast in a navy blue hue. To Juice the shadowy figures the lighting creates, feel more like strangers rather than brothers in the darkness. Their bar lay at the furthest edge of the room, most of the leather bar stools were occupied and drinks were placed on the sleek black counters regularly. The overall appearance gave off the feeling of a modern nightclub rather than a biker bar. Not that Samcro could judge, they had spent a month holding church over an ice cream parlor.   

From the second Juice had walked into the clubhouse he’d known it was a mistake coming. After everything that went down; the lies, the broken promises, and the avoidable deaths, Juice had been expecting to be greeted with mumbled curses and angry glares. What he hadn’t expected was for him to be the only one to receive the ire of the other charters. Going through the front doors, purposefully wedged between Quinn and Tig, it felt like every eye in the room turned toward him. At the time he was sure the two men flanking him were the only thing stopping the violent thoughts playing out in their patched brothers’ minds from becoming reality.  

As their Prez Chibs was pulled from one side of the room to the other, every member with a few years on the road under their belt wanted to talk. After all, he was the physical representation of Samcro’s new era. From his awkward stance alone it was clear he was uncomfortable with this aspect of his presidency, representing the charter and greasing palms was an unfamiliar task to him. Leadership had been a new glove that didn't yet fit. Chibs was diplomatic by nature but in a different way than the golden boy had been. Fortunately for him, after an hour or so the requests to talk to him had faded out and he’d been able to escape to the back with the other presidents, undoubtedly to talk about the good old days as they played cards.  

Juice had spent the night trailing after Quinn like a lost puppy, knocking back the shots of whiskey he was passed in hopes he could forget where they were. Sometime in the night he managed to lose Quinn, with the man towering a foot over most of the men in the room Juice wasn’t sure how he lost him, he was just sure the giant was nowhere in sight. Feeling slight panic settling like a weight on his chest, he scanned the faces around him. None of them in the room were familiar but on the screen above the bar, relaying the CCTV camera from outside, he recognized one of the men who stood by the front doors, Tig.  

With panic dissipating slightly, he weaved through the crowd. Halfway to the front doors, a prospect scurries past him, narrowly avoiding a collision he ducks his head and apologises. The guy’s young, with dark skin and prominent acne scars. A few bottles of beer are tucked under his arm, recently taken from the fridge condensation is now dripping off them, turning his grey shirt black. Plenty of patched members would have knocked the prospect on his ass for getting in their way, but Juice waved off the apology with a smile. His grin quickly evaporated when he glanced up to see where the younger man was heading. Gains was sat at a table at the edge of the room, he was the only president who hadn’t gotten up to greet Chibs and those actions speak louder than any words could. Samcro was not forgiven.   

Though when their eyes met across the room there was no animosity there, just pity. Juice felt his face burn. He’d rather be considered a traitor than a poor little victim of Jax Teller. When Gaines looked ready to get up, Juice carried on walking, merging into the crowd before the older man was off his stool.   

After he’d made sure he was out of sight Juice had looked at the screen again, only to realize the images were out of view from his current angle. He’s about to continue when he hears his own name from behind him. ‘’Kid should’ve died in there. It’s what Jax wanted. That would have been justice.’’ The words had a slight drunken slur to them but the voice was loud enough that Juice knew this must be a conversation SAMDINO commonly and openly had.  

‘’Don’t stress about it man, he’ll be gone when the Scot eventually gets bored of taking care of the goddamn rat.‘’ Feeling ill at the words he tried to stop the trembling in his fingers, curling his hands into loose fists.   

Having turned around he almost managed to escape without notice. Without warning fingers had hooked over his shoulders spinning him back around. He didn’t know if it was due to the sudden turn or the copious amounts of alcohol he’d consumed that his limbs felt unstable.  

When he looked at his attacker, he froze at what he saw, ice-blue eyes. It’s not Jax he sees but for a second the eyes still pulled him back to a time before Chibs’ presidency. The guy before him looked to be the same age. He was an intimidating size, build like Opie had been, though he evidently didn’t have the deceased man’s temperament. His nose was a misshapen mound on his tanned face and his arms were as thick as tree trunks, a reaper identical to his own was etched on the muscles.   

Seemingly sensing the changing atmosphere, a small circle surrounded them ready to witness a fight. Juice took in a shaky gulp of air, with both the bodies and his lungs pressing inward the large bar felt cramped. As he looked at the faces, men with unkempt facial hair and crooked noses, Juice knew no one was coming to his aid. Maybe Gaines would have but the President was out of sight, people were often out of Juice’s sight when he needed them most.   

Having had Quinn by his side all night, none of his patched brothers had had the nerve to pick a fight, but now he was on his own. His fists went up like he’d learned on the streets all those years ago. He curled in on himself slightly, ready for the blows to rain down and wondering how he could protect his most vital organs.    

Just when the attacker had moved forward, steadier on his feet than his earlier drunken rambles had suggested, ready to throw the first punch, Terry had stepped out of the crowd into their little circle, Juice hadn’t recognised him but he’d recognised the patch neatly sewn onto his vest, confirming he was this charter’s sergeant at arms. ‘’Fight’s over.’’ Juice sagged with relief, having been sure Terry was there to referee the fight rather than break it up.   

‘’You’re going to take this rat's side? Over mine?’’  

‘’There aren’t any sides, Gator. We’re all brothers here. Now, why don’t you take a walk and let me give Juice here a tour of the place.’’  

Gator had barred his teeth at him like a dog would when it’s being berated for pissing on the furniture but he reluctantly complied. With audible grumbling, the crowd disperses, disappointed that no blood would be shed that night. When Terry faced Juice again he’d gotten his first good look at the man. He was older, if his head and face hadn’t been carefully shaved, his dark hair would surely have grey streaks within it. Blue eyes, with a grey hue, looked Juice up and down. When Juice had been ordered  to follow him, he’d hoped  to be brought to one of Samcro’s guys. When they move away from the doorway that seemed less than likely. Weaving through the crowd, Juice stuck close by. Through the cluster of bodies, Juice glanced wistfully at the door he’d seen Chibs walk through a few hours earlier.  

‘’Would have thought they’ll join the rest of us soon. Probably got distracted talking about the good old days.’’ The joke made Juice let his guard down slightly but still, he kept his eye on the surrounding people, searching for one of his charter brothers.   

They stopped walking when they reached the room with a pool table centre of it. The earlier group had departed leaving just two men. The oldest is Hoosier, a legacy member, his father being one of the founders of the SAMDINO charter. He’s got a thick beard, like an outlaw variant of Hagrid. The one who looked to be the same age as Juice was all hard lines and sharp features, with a gaze that looked like it could cut. When Juice walked into the room that look on the other man’s face made him feel like he was being dissected, the events of the night being laid out bare in front of him. He was introduced as Joker and having looked at his kutte Juice knew he was yet to hold a role in the club. That and the lack of ink, Juice associates with long-term members, suggested he was a new patch. Not that you could always tell. Within a few months of patching Juice’s arms were physical markings of his loyalty to the club.    

Both men stared at him with open distrust and for a second Juice wondered if his pride could take calling out for Tig or Chibs. Terry ignored the mounting tension, walking toward Hoosier he plucked the pool cue out of his grasp.   

Addressing Joker, he asks ‘’Been making sure this one’s not cheating again?’’    

‘’I have been cheating and I’m still three points down.’’ Hoosier replies instead as Terry takes his shot. The stick hit the ball, and it rolled forward before ricocheting off the side, only to halt a couple of inches from where it started.   

Terry had passed Juice the cue, nudging him toward the table. The rest of the night went smoothly, Quinn having then found him there an hour later. By that time Juice had been plied with alcohol, bitter-tasting vodka making him forget about the night's earlier catastrophe. The guys didn’t seem as distrustful then, more open about themselves. Hoosier was the youngest child of a patched member; all his other siblings were living on the other side of the law. Terry had been Tig’s prospect, he’d transferred a couple of years before Juice had appeared. Joker had met his sponsor, Packer, in Stockton prison having been thrown in there at twenty-three for scamming tourists in Vegas.    

Joker was the youngest and newest in their charter. He’d patched in earlier that month. The lack of ink on his pale skin was due to a needle phobia he couldn’t bury. The only mark on him was a small skull given to him as part of the Sons’ tradition, it was drawn on his chest the tip of it had peeked above the collar of his white vest. In some way, he was the Juice of the SAMDINO charter. He took the brunt of the affectionate torment as they played with an easy grin, never taking the half-hearted insults personally, content to be picked on so long as it allowed him to run rings around them all.    

Juice’s mental tangent is disturbed by Chibs sitting at the bottom of the sofa, tugging the covers so there are spades of material to cocoon into, just the way he liked it.  

‘’Still want Happy up here?’’ Tig asks.   

‘’Let him decide. Maybe he needs this.’’ Hearing Chibs’ concern Juice knows it’s Montez. Happy had never met Tommy but he’d grown close to Montez over the years. If it was an unknown brother he’d want simple clinical revenge against whoever wronged the club, Chibs wouldn’t need to worry about the Tacoma killer’s emotional wellbeing unless the victim was a friend.  

As salt prickles at his eyes, the room swims in front of him like he’s seeing the world from a blurry lens. Conversation drops off and he can tell they’ve realised he knows. Not wanting anyone to say the words he tilts his head away from them both finding sudden inexplicable interest in the flooring as he scrubs at his eyes with the edge of his too long sleeves.  

Happy and Montez had gone to SAMDINO a few months prior, to offer some stability to a charter reeling at their President falling ill so suddenly. The charter had expanded the offer to allow Juice a chance to visit but he knew it was more for show than an actual change of heart. Packer had still been on the merry-go-round of Jax’s promises and legacy, whilst his VP, Doc, had more of an issue with the darker pigment of his skin. It was something he wasn’t willing to let go of no matter what bylaws were gone; prejudices died hard. It looks like the golden boy’s sacrifice didn’t solve everything.  

Silence that feels fragile enough to shatter carries on and Juice adjusts the way he’s sat already feeling stiffness creep into his neck.   

‘’Are we having a funeral?  

‘’Course. I’ll let his old lady know tomorrow.’’  

Funerals have become more of a rarity in recent years. But Juice has attended enough of them in his time as a son. In various dreary churches they’ve taken place, the repeated feature of stained glass windows and the lines of grim reapers, with emotionless craters for eyes, in each one. The reaper would eventually rise as a man, in a crisp white collar, read out a bible passage, like a verse from an old book could help them atone for the sins of their deceased brother. Sitting in the living room tonight Juice has a feeling it’s a sight he’ll soon see again. 

Tagged a couple of people I thought might be interested hope no one minds being tagged.

Feel fee to let me know if you'd liked to be tagged in any future stories. @viskovie @sadandgeek @ineedthesons @vulgar-display-of-escapism @ammleh

[roonyxx]

Locked Chapter 2: Many Masks

By @roonyxx and @jay-and-dean

Pairings : Dean x reader ?

Summary : The Winchesters brothers are probably the most dangerous and mysterious criminals of the country, cracking them will require a professional.

This is inspired by supernatural episode 12x09, First Blood.

Serie Warnings : Captivity, Smut (please be 18+), Fluff, Angst, Swearing. Mention of physical pain, of torture and murders. Each Chapter will have detailled warnings.

Chapter warnings : Talk of violence and criminals.

Wordcount : 3389

Note : This is a collaboration beetween both of us. We can’t both edit the same post, so we decided we would post 1 chapter/2 each, like for Firefly.

We both worked as much on this story and it’s the result of both our brains but also both our hearts.

Please, if you want to show love for this story, don’t forget we were together in this.

Locked Masterlist

Want to read more:

Jay’s Masterlist

Roonyxx Masterlist

Text divider by @firefly-graphics

“You’re home.”

The car stops and the driver waits for me to get out of it without one more word like every evening.

I take off the blinding thing I have on my eyes and throw it on the backseat in a grunt.

“You know, this is ridiculous” I point at him in the rearview mirror. “It’s a one hour and 10 minutes drive and I faintly feel the sun rising on my skin on the right in the morning, I know we go due north ! Then the sun is discontinuous because of trees, so I guess a forest. And it’s a secret, obviously underground, military base, so I would say it is somewhere in those mountains that are about one hour north. You could allow me to take off this thing at least when we enter the city.”

He stares at me without any facial expression, thinks a moment, and finally answers. 

“If your intelligence becomes a problem for this case, you will be fired.”

I grunt in frustration and roll my eyes, getting out of the car with my purse to walk to my apartment building, holding back the trail of unpleasant words jostling in my head.

Entering my very tidy apartment in another grunt, I kick my uncomfortable heel shoes off of my feet and look around. Everything is at its place, everything is silent, just like I like it.

I turn on the floor lamp to have a cozy ambiance, put my jacket on the coat rack and go to the kitchen right away to find something to eat quickly, the work I still have to do is waiting. I didn’t eat anything other than coffee since this morning and I learned the hard way that working fourteen hours a day requires a little maintenance. 

Opening the empty fridge, I sigh. 

“Did you really think someone would have bought food during the day ?” I groan to myself, opening the freezer to grab one of those awful ready-to-eat meals I feed myself with since I moved in. “At least, no dishes again.”

I chuckle, realizing that I probably never used a pot , rarely even plates, since I moved in. 

While my shapeless food is in the microwave, I reach behind my back to unclasp my bra, take it off with that magic sleeve technique that most women know and pour myself a glass of wine in the only tableware I use with mugs : wine glasses.

It is 11pm, and I know my day is not really over yet. No wonder why people say my place looks like a show apartment, I don’t have time to create any mess. 

I am not allowed to take anything that is related to the Winchesters out of the base, Agent Camp made it very clear. This is national security… But I am not very good with authority.

So I unbutton my pants and take out what I have copied and hidden there : A list of every person the brothers have been seen with and their status and addresses, and a letter that a teacher wrote for the social services when Dean was fourteen that stayed unnoticed until the military computer engineer started digging everything up.

Picking from the horrible food I left on the coffee table in front of me, I go through my laptop files, looking at the pictures of Sam and Dean Winchester I have here and unfolding the teacher’s printed mail once again. 

It has been three or four times that I read this letter, but, chewing at something that was supposed to taste like fish, I read it once more, hoping my brain would somehow connect with Dean Winchester’s childhood.

“Dean Winchester’s situation is preoccupying. The fourteen years old boy is irascible, uninterested in his education, he comes to school without any belongings and rarely even brings lunch. He arrives late, looking tired and, this week, covered in bruises.

Questioned about those bruises, Dean affirms that a ghost made him fall down the stairs. It is impossible for me to understand, despite many questions, if the boy believes in his lie or if he is mocking me.

I am worried that Mister John Winchester, widow, could be overwhelmed by the education of his boys and maybe not give them a safe living environment.

I also draw your attention to the fact that the Winchester family seems to change places constantly, and we know that families avoiding social services tend to do that a lot.

Cordially.”

Covered in bruises. A ghost. The stairs ?

“Who is the ghost, Dean ?” I mutter with my mouth full. “Your mom ? Your dad’s sanity ? Were you abused by your father ? Were you already involved in violent organizations ?...”

A pen and a notebook could never replace all the files in the world to think. 

I take a note to try to resolve the ghost mystery, and next to it, three stars, to remember this seems extremely important. Then a few notes about the first impressions I had of them today.

They are both really handsome and charismatic. Most killers I have seen, even when they play regular gentlemen, have at least something slightly creepy in their aura once you look closely. But not the Winchesters.

Honestly, even if every single proof I have makes it highly unlikely, Sam looks pretty scared. But the man is tough and, if he is, I’m convinced he is not really scared of us, maybe more of being locked with himself ? 

Maybe it happened to him before ? I put two stars after this question because I can feel this is a lead I have the dig.

Dean… There is a feeling I can’t shake about him, but, for the first time I have no idea what it is. He is calm and focused. Not that he is unfazed like some sociopaths are, but like he was ready for anything, like he had nothing left to lose. And that makes him extremely dangerous…

Sam still mostly refuses to talk to me. 

He doesn’t trust himself with weighing his words, I think. And he still looks mostly worried so I make our daily interview a little shorter. 

I have a lot of questions to ask his brother, anyway. 

When the door of his cell opens, he is sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, knees up, large arms around them. The gray overall he is wearing accentuates the robustness of his skilled body. As usual, the man seems focused. 

“Hi Doc” he says without turning to me. “I love your shoes.”

“Hi Dean. Are shoes something you pay attention to ?”

I enter the room and sit on the folding chair I always take with me. Dean turns his head to me and chuckles.

“It’s not a fetish or some shit you think I have” she states with a corner smile.

“Oh, you don’t have any ?”

Something crosses his smart green eyes, he looks amused. 

“You would like to know my kinks, Doc” he winks. “Promise you won’t blush.”

“Considering the…” I open my file, like I didn’t know it by heart. “Body exhuming, the decapitation and the satanist symbols… I’m pretty sure It is not going to be my thing.”

“No, don’t worry, I don’t mix work with pleasure.”

“Work ?” I immediately ask. 

Does he consider that all of those horrors is work he has to do ? That would fit with my organization hypothesis. Or does he believe he has a mission maybe ? If the murders have to do with a cult.

He doesn’t answer my question at all so I ask another. 

“Did you already work when you were fourteen, Dean ?”

“That’s an oddly specific question, Doc” he states, watching at the wall. “Why fourteen ?”

I look at my lap and take the teacher’s letter I put back discreetly in the field this morning. 

When I bend to give the paper to him, the guard points his gun at Dean’s head, holding my shoulder to prevent my movement. 

“It’s okay” I lift my hand to the armed man “It’s okay.”

Dean frowns, and for a second, he looks between my hand and the guard. I know he could grab my arm with enough speed to get me in a threatening position, probably choking, before the guard even reacts. 

I am just counting on the fact that he will want to get information on how to escape or where Sam is before he tries something like this. I am also counting on the fact that he believes there will be more occasions like this.

“You underestimate me Doc” he states, taking the paper harshly. 

No, you are underestimating me. Like all the others always did. I am leading this. 

I sit straight again, keeping my thoughts for myself while he looks down at the paper in his hands, reading. 

“Who was that ghost ?” I ask.

“Ghosts don’t exist” he smiles, handing me the sheet back. 

“Stairs do” I take the piece of paper from his strong hand. “But were there even stairs in this event ?”

“Yep” he nods. “Big bad stairs, Doc. Don’t think too much of this, it is not what you think.”

I cross my legs, and notice he opens his hand to look at his palm.

“You know what I think ?” I ask, my eyes still glued to his massive body and focused face. 

“You think my daddy beat me up and fucked with my head enough to make me a sociopath.”

“I actually excluded the sociopath hypothesis after I first saw you.”

“I’m flattered I guess” he lets out a deep chuckle that comes from his chest. “But your job is to guess what I’m thinking, right, Doc ? What am I thinking ?”

“You are actually really focused on our discussion, because you can’t let slip anything you don’t want to. But you are very smart, and able to think of several things at the same time. Like, you are probably thinking back of that school, trying to remember the teacher that worried for you, actually moved that he did, even if he was wrong, because not many people have in your life. I think you can’t remember that man, because this kind of situation, ‘ghost pushing you down stairs’, happened too many times” I state honestly while he turns his head to stare at me. “And I think you are wondering how you will get Sam out of here, because you actually believe there is a way you can escape this. But that is a constant thought, nothing new.”

Silence fills the gray cell. 

Dean Winchester is looking at me, actually thinking of something I can’t understand at all, his puzzling mind leaving many mysteries to unravel. Is he imagining murdering me ? His gaze doesn’t seem violent at all though... 

“Am I right, Dean ?”

“We’re done for today” he grunts, making me smile in victory. 

I get up, fold my little plastic chair and walk to the door, followed by the silent guard. But just before I pass it, I turn my head to him again. 

“It was Mister Hannigan, a physics teacher in Missoula, Montana. Black man, tall, with glasses” I say before I finally leave. 

I’m buried deep in another part of the Winchesters case. There are so many aspects to it., beside from all the murders, grave desecrations and police reports. 

This part is about their lives, or more so what is around it. Which people they see, the fact that Sam went to school on a scholarship and the sudden disappearances of both men.

I sigh and think back to the conversation I had with Dean yesterday, he was annoyed that I was able to guess what was on his mind. Or maybe it frightened him, that I was able to look through his facade. It always has the effect on people, murderers and friends alike… 

Dean is a man of many masks. But I am trained to see beyond them. My college friends used to mock me, calling me Sherlock… And since I have met Dean Winchester, I can’t shake the feeling that I have found my Moriarty…

I shake my head a little to focus on the files in front of me.

Bobby Singer, born 1950 and died in 2012, from a gunshot wound to the head. The medical report states Dean and Sam claimed the body. Do they have a ritual with their dead ? They claimed their father’s body too.

Bobby had a house in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. It was a place the Winchesters were often seen, up until 2011 when it burned down under suspicious circumstances.

Bobby was a close friend to the Winchesters, he was much older, four years older than John. The man also had a substantial file with the cops. Similar to the Winchester’s one.

No doubt that mister Singer was in the same business, in the same cult maybe. Was he their mentor ? Aside from John ? Did Bobby Singer introduce John to this organization ?

Maybe I should consider reaching out to one of these people. Most names filed here are dead. Hellen Harvelle and her daughter Jo Harvelle, deceased. Ash Tonish, deceased. Jimmy Novak, deceased or missing.

And Celeste Middleton, who was later recognized by at least three visual witnesses under the name Charlie Bradburry…

The biggest mystery around the Winchesters brothers is probably the way they seem to bring people back to life. Several interrogated witnesses claim to have seen them with Jimmy Novak, and even Mary Winchester…

What if they were never dead but dragged in this cult ? What happened to them ?

I rub my face. Whatever this is, the big picture seems to be, I am starting to comprehend it, probably the biggest I have ever faced.

Everyone they know is dead, or at least declared dead, except for two people : Jody Mills and Donna Hanscum. Both officers of the law. 

Do they have ties to the police ? I doubt they bribe them, they don’t seem to  have that kind of money. 

I sigh and make a little note to maybe contact either Jody Mills or Donna Hanscum should I ever get stuck. But not for now, Agent Camp said interviews with outsiders are not on the table, but maybe I could convince him.

Another part of the case contains dozens of eyewitness accounts. If someone would give me these papers with no further explanation. I would say the Winchesters are heroes.

All these accounts have the same trend :

“They saved my life.”

“We were so lucky they came, without them we wouldn’t be here.”

“They were the only ones that believed me, that didn’t think I was crazy.”

“They are heroes.”

That word, ‘Heroes’, keeps coming back. It doesn’t make any sense. Everywhere they go people die, people get hurt or disappear. All their friends died, and never in normal circumstances either… Yet these witnesses all state the opposite.

They are the kings of lies and manipulation, getting adored and unpunished.

With another sigh I close the file and rub my tired eyes. I look at my watch and see it is just over lunch. 

In the last few days I visited them at different hours, I noticed that Dean would be less grumpy when he had something to eat. As far as Sam is concerned it doesn’t really seem to make a difference. 

I check my recorder to make sure I have everything after leaving Sam’s cell and reset the device when I enter Dean’s.

“Afternoon, Doc” he says with that half smirk when I set foot inside. 

He’s sitting on his bed. His back against the wall and his long legs are crossed at the ankles. His arms, like often, crossed over his chest.

“Hello Dean” I put my chair down and sit. “How are you doing?”

“Peachy” he grunts. 

His eyes briefly flick over me, to the guard and then ahead to the wall.

I reach into my file and lift up an X-ray picture of his ribs. Along each rib there are little symbols carved into the bone, on his sternum four big ones fill up the length of it. The pictures date back to 2009. But their skin, according to the medical file, has no scarring.

“What are these ?” I ask as I move the paper a little to gain his attention.

His eyes briefly flick over the picture and a smirk graces his face.

“If you want pictures of me without my clothes, all you have to do is ask, Doc” he gives me a wink and resumes looking at the wall.

“Avoiding the question, Dean. I can imagine this must have hurt” I continue.

“Only a little” he shrugs as if carving symbol by symbol into bone is nothing. 

A shiver runs over my spine : What else has he endured to make this seem like nothing ?

“What shady surgeon agreed to do that to you ? And how could he carve without opening your whole chest, killing you, or at least break your bones ?”

“A very good one, Doc. Probably a better doctor than you” he lets out a low chuckle.

“Seeing that some of the symbols return and that there isn’t a pattern in it, I guess it is a language” I say before I go on. “What do they say ? Or is there a use for these ?”

“It is for protection” he says dryly.

“Protection from what?” 

He shrugs again and points his finger to the roof.

“From the government?” 

Is he pointing to the higher levels of the building, where the rest of the secret facility is ? To satellites like in some conspiracy theory ?

“No, higher, much higher, Doc” he lets out a dark chuckle.

“Heaven” I realize in a nod. “Do you believe in Heaven, Mister Winchester ?”

“Do you, Doc?” he turns his head to me, and looks straight into my eyes. 

I see a simmering icy rage in those green orbs. Not for me, but for what we are discussing.

“I don’t” I say honestly. 

I never was religious, with the things I have seen, you simply can’t believe someone with a higher power allows these horrors to happen.

“Why would you seek protection from Heaven ? It is paradise” I frown. “People usually try to protect themselves from Hell.”

“Heaven is a pain in my ass” he grunts but holds my gaze as he continues. “Tell me Doc, have you ever seen things you can’t explain ? People going mad for no reason, people dying in mysterious circumstances, never felt that chill down your back with a feeling like you’re being watched ?”

“Are you asking me if I believe in ghosts, Mister Winchester ?” the rage that was in his eyes just before is gone, replaced by something that I can only describe as determination.

“In a way, yes.”  

“I do not. Do you ?” I ask him.

“Of course I do” he moves to swing his legs over the side of his bed and plants his feet on the ground. 

A movement that pulls the attention from the guard who is now standing beside me. I put my hand up to him to sign that it is okay. 

“Only a fool doesn’t believe in them” he is looking straight at me, a hint of a smile on his face.

“So I am a fool then ?” I ask while keeping my hand up to the guard. 

If he interupts now, Dean won’t talk more about this, after only a week of interviews, such sincerity about his beliefs is unhoped for.

“Maybe, maybe not, sheltered, for sure. But you’re smart. I’m sure you can figure it out on your own” he smirks at me and moves to lay back down on his bed. 

“I need my beauty sleep, Doc. I need to stay handsome for when I get out of this dump” he folds his hands behind his head and closes his eyes, not waiting for me to leave.

Sheltered ?

I stop my recording device and stand up, taking my chair while leaving his cell.

[darlingoddity]

Retrograde Survival Kit: Everything I’ve Ever Known

Happy Retrograde. Words we never hear. I was born during Mercury in Retrograde and I’m currently living near my Mercury transit line on my astrocartography map. So, Mercury is kind of my thing. 

So much so that I just slept for 28 hours to welcome it… I went to sleep Sunday around 11pm. Woke up around 1:30pm to watch some youtube videos, fell asleep during those again till 6pm… stayed up for about 4 hours and woke up at 7am on Tuesday. I can’t remember the last time I did something like this, but I highly recommend! I’ve been on a JOURNEY the last two days without leaving my bed except to poop and eat once.

In that time, I dreamt a lot. And cried. I woke up crying at one point. I cried about my ex—I swear at one point a corner of my sheets smelled like him and I missed being hugged. I cried about my mom and how we haven’t had a healthy relationship EVER and I”m not sure I’ll ever know what it feels like to be loved by her, even though I know in her own way she loves me very much.

I did a lot of breathing. I guess that’s the caveat—don’t do this unless you’ve been doing breathwork exercise for quite some time, at least 6 months. These episodes without breathwork can tunnel down into depression. I however, woke up wanting to start a blog.

I’m alone. I’ve been alone for over a year now, and kind of my whole life. People hurt, so I usually only get close to them in seasons. 

I was crying about these old pains that I feel are somehow trapped in my body, and I’d really like them to leave. And that’s when a voice—a voice? A thought? Spirit? You know, GOD maybe? When that More Knowing voice in my head reminded me: it isn’t your pain, it’s theirs. People spread their pain because it’s the only color they have to paint with. And how do we ever feel “ideal” love without knowing its hue. 

I’ve worked very hard my whole life not to hurt people, and I’m sure I have. And yet, I carry other people’s pain inside me. Why do I identify with their pain and not the kind I create?

Something symbolic happened Sunday, hours before my slumber, my mirror fell off my closet door. It’s like the world—YES THE WORLD—my own little precious world inside my Los Angeles apartment, was telling me to reflect in a new way. I had to put the mirror in a new place for the time being.

I think that’s what retrograde is: reflecting in a new way. Resting so we can notice what pain comes up while being in the position to see it, feel it, and give it breath and rest. 

I’m not sure I have ever known love the way I’ve dreamt of it. I’m not sure anything has ever lived up to my wild imagination, except maybe in pockets of time when it has actually superseded my expectations. I don’t know why pain is easier to remember than these ecstatic moments, which I know I’ve had, because I remember telling myself to “be there, in that moment and never let it go.” And then I step in shit or something and it’s gone immediately.  

Retrograde comes 3-4 times a year. On purpose. Like Mary Poppins trying to feed us a spoonful of medicine with maybe a little sugar… and the sugar to help it go down is REST. The memories, the pain, the retrograde will come back regardless. So you might as well rest, breathe, and cry. I think it helped me realize it was never all up to me to make these things go right. That if I sit some things out, I’m stronger for it. Because an uphill battle doesn’t change whether you take a break or not. The hill remains upright and uphill. And sleep and dreams are a gift. I spent a lot of time with my dad in my dreams. We shared a lot of cool moments like a car chase and eating at a diner he owned in this dreamland. We bonded. And even if it was a dream, I felt very loved and woke up refreshed at the beginning of retrograde. 

[f1]

Speculation Daniel Ricciardo's 'F.E.A.' message on his helmet has a VERY pointed meaning

Speculation Daniel Ricciardo's 'F.E.A.' message on his helmet has a VERY pointed meaning as Aussie's struggles intensify after he qualifies 14th at Monaco Grand Prix Aussie F1 driver Daniel Ricciardo has marked 'F.E.A' on the rear of his helmet Fans say initials seen during qualifying on Saturday stand for 'f**k 'em all' McLaren CEO Zak Brown said he has been 'disappointed' with Ricciardo's form By Stirling Taylor For Daily Mail Australia Published: 21:35 EDT, 28 May 2022 | Updated: 21:36 EDT, 28 May 2022 Australian F1 driver Daniel Ricciardo has sported a handwritten 'F.E.A.' message on his racing helmet while qualifying 14th at the Monaco Grand Prix - leading to speculation it's a very blunt response to critics who have slammed his recent form. The McLaren star has had a shocking run since moving from Renault in 2021 and there are indications he could be forced out of F1 at the season's end. Ricciardo was spotted with the initials 'F.E.A' written on the rear of his helmet in Saturday's qualifying session at the famous track. Daniel Ricciardo's helmet was marked with the initials 'F.E.A' for Saturday's qualifying race, with fans speculating it stands for 'f**k 'em all' Some fans believe the acronym stands for 'f*** em all', a phrase that could be aimed at Ricciardo's critics and possibly even McLaren. Earlier in the week, team boss Zak Brown said he was 'disappointed' in Ricciardo's form with the team since his 2021 Italian Grand Prix victory. 'We obviously would like to see Daniel much closer to Lando and have a good inter-team battle,' the McLaren CEO told Sky Sports.  'Daniel is just not comfortable yet with the car. We are trying everything we can, again it was a disappointing weekend.'  Ricciardo has finished in the top 10 just once this season and has been outscored by teammate Lando Norris in all but two races so far.  The eight-time F1 winner said he struggled to find rhythm in the McLaren throughout practice and qualifying in Monaco. Daniel Ricciardo lost control of his McLaren and smashed into the barriers during the second practice session as he had another miserable weekend at the Monaco Grand Prix  The Aussie could only get his car up to 14th on the grid, nine spots behind McLaren's number one driver Lando Norris 'In Q2 it just - you can see on your data as well, you're just not making the gains that you should with track evolution and all of this,' Ricciardo told Sky Sports post the qualifying race. 'It ultimately becomes very difficult to feel where the limit is and how much more there is to go. 'I don't know what the word is. It's frustrating ... it's just confusing to not make these kinds of natural steps that one should.'  Ricciardo's first stint around the tight Monaco track was his best, finishing seventh in the first practice session. The 32-year-old only managed to complete two laps in practice two on Friday, as he lost control around a corner and damaged his front wing after crashing into the barrier.   Ricciardo climbs out of his McLaren after his crash on Friday. He said he struggled to find rhythm and push the car to its limits on the tight, twisty track It has been reported IndyCar driver Colton Herta could move to the McLaren team and kick the Australian out of his position.  The Perth-born driver won seven of his eight victories with the Red Bull team before moving to Renault in 2019. The Monaco Grand Prix starts at 11pm AEST on Sunday night, with Charles Leclerc in pole position. Advertisement Share or comment on this article: Speculation Daniel Ricciardo's 'F.E.A.' message on his helmet has a VERY pointed meaning via Formula One | Mail Online https://www.dailymail.co.uk?ns_mchannel=rss&ns_campaign=1490&ito=1490

[regretsofalifeandlovelost]

Cucking

I am laying reading in bed when my partner tells me that he's been thinking about watching me fuck other guys constantly. He tells me that he's now thinking of me fucking guys when he masturbates and that it brings him to cum so quickly. I am shocked and pleased simultaneously. I ask him to talk me through his thoughts, what he's thinking about, what positions he's looking at me get fucked in. As he tells me I start to slowly stroke his cock which has already become rock hard. I run my nails down his shaft to his balls and then backup again in long tender strokes. He loves it. Hearing him talk about how he wants to see me fuck guys, the position has me so aroused. I can feel myself getting wet. I ask him who I am being fucked by. He tells me my sisters husband. My heart races, I ask him how it makes him feel. He tells me that it turns him on knowing that he's able to please me so well. He tells me that by watching me fuck him he's learning, that he's watching me find my sexual being. I ask him how that makes him feel, he said he wants to fuck me after he's filled me with his cum. He wants to feel another mans pleasure inside me again.

At this point I can't deal with the foreplay any longer. I move across and straddle him, his cock glides into my streaming wet pussy with ease. I start to thrust my hips while pinning his arms down against our bed's headboard. I feel his cock swell like he's about to cum but he doesn't, I start talking dirty to him as I fuck him, telling him that he feels so good, that I love it when he watches me fuck other guys. As soon as that comes out of my mouth I feel his cock filling me up. When he's finished he tells me to come and let him lick it out of me. I stand up and come down over his face. He licks my pussy, It feels so good as it slobbers all of his cum out of my pussy. As I step away about to come down and fuck him until I cum he tells me to see if there's anyone he can watch fuck me until I cum. I reach for my phone and send a few messages.. I look at the clock, it's 11pm so it's not a surprise that I don't get an instant response. A few minutes later I get the response I hope for, my sisters husband responds. He's asking what's up.. I message back saying that my partner wants to cuck and I am looking for a bull. He tells me that he's on his way.. I tell him the doors unlocked he can come straight in.

My partner and I quickly clean up and get everything tidy. In under 10 minutes we hear a car arrive, the engine switch off, the door shut, the front door opens and closes and then a knock on our bedroom door. My partner tells him to come in. As I look down I can see that he's already hard at the thought and we have not even fucked yet. I ask my partner how he wants us to do this, he tells us he wants me to be fucked hard, like a dirty slut. A moment later I'm lifted up, put down on my back, my legs spread apart and my pussy lips spread apart. His tongue is working it's magic on my clitoris as his fingers move from one, two, three, then four.. its so intense, he's never caused so much over sensation before like this, I pop.. my orgasm comes smashing through me it shocks me. My legs are pinned down in such a way that I can't move, I buck as his hand stretches me out with his tongue teasing my clitoris. His weight pinning me into that position. He doesn't relent, he brings me to a second and then third orgasm before he picks me up and fucks me against the bed head from behind. He's pounding me with an aggression, an intensity that exceeds anything I've had before. My head smashing into the padded bed head with each thrust.. my partner looking on, I see him with his mobile phone filming me. It turns me on so much. I feel his cock swelling, I feel his intensity slow slightly but his depth increase. Just as I think he's about to cum he pulls out and cums all over my back.. I feel it running down my arse crack by the time he's finished. He falls back onto the bed, sweating, breathing deeply. My partner coming across to lick up the cum running down my back, I feel his tongue licking my butt hole. It feels good. I moan as he does it. He continues, it feels fucking good. He continues to lick my arse, it tickles in a good way. His thumb in my pussy rubbing my g-spot. I'm still against the bed head with my legs apart and my arse out. He tells my sisters husband to fuck me in the arse. He said it's not his thing and my partner begs him. He relents, I feel the lube around my arse hole as my partners finger starts working my passage.. Then I feel him coming underneath me, his tongue on my clitoris as a huge cock starts working its way into my bum. It hurts in a good way, slowly working up to taking more and more of his cock. My clitoris being stimulated at the same time.. my pussy being worked by my partners fingers. It feels incredible.. I try and talk and can't speak properly between the breathing and moaning.

I finally struggle to get a sentence out, telling my partner to fuck me at the same time, he tells me that I am a dirty slut and he's going to stick to licking and fingers. I can feel myself getting closer and closer. I feel that I am on the edge for what feels like an eternity.. it feels like I am just skimming along the edge of an incredible orgasm for a long time. Then suddenly I feel my body release. It feels like my legs have to go straight. It feels like I need to stretch but can't I'm pinned in. The orgasm lasts for the longest of any orgasm I've ever had, even still to this day. As I come back around from the orgasm I feel my arse being filled with cum. I feel him pulling his cock out. He tells us he's going to the bathroom to wash up. I follow him. I struggle to walk straight, I need to hold myself up using the walls as I struggle to put my feet one in front of the other. My partner realises and helps me. I can feel the cum dripping out of my arse down my legs. I sit on the loo and clean myself out. Having a shower. I return to the bedroom to find my partner looking at the footage he took. I lay down exhausted. The next thing I realise is the sun beaming in the window.

I am sore all over, my body feels like I've been run over by a bus. All my muscles are sore. I feel good otherwise. I have the day off and enjoy getting the kids ready for school and then have the day to myself. My partner has decided to work from home too. As the door closes he asks me if we should repeat the activities from the previous night. Exhausted I tell him that I think I am too sore but it's too late. He's ripped my pants down and decided to fuck me over the TV cabinet near our front door. Filling my pussy with his load so quickly that the advertisement that was on hadn't even finished. He was quickly down there licking it up. As he comes up he tells me he thinks he's addicted to cum.

Without even putting my pants back on I crash onto the lounge. My legs spread, my hair free pussy, I sat there in amazement at how only a short time ago I would never have even dreamed of doing something like this. I lacked self confidence and thought my pussy was disgusting. Now here I am having just been fucked, comfortably sitting with my legs spread looking at my own pussy with admiration. Thinking how it had brought me such pleasure now that I had discovered its usefulness. I joked to my partner and he looked at me cheekily. As I sat there watching morning TV remaining pants free I began to slowly stroke myself, gently caressing, playing. Trying to take as long as possible to bring myself to orgasm as possible. I was interrupted by the door bell which shook me out of my dream world. My partner answers the door with me pants free in clear view. I did not have time to react but was pleased when I saw it was my sisters husband. It became apparent that my partner had invited him over. They chatted with the door still open for the world to see. I didn't feel so worried now, shocking myself in the process. It was like I was battling my old and new self.

My partner tells him that he wants me to eat my pussy for breakfast. As I lay legs spread he was quick to dive in. Tenderly massaging my outer lips with his hands in such a way that makes my toes curl. Slowly massaging up and down my legs, inner thighs and then my outer lips, between my lips and then slowly introducing his tongue. I had so much suspense by the time he finally had his tongue in there I felt like I was going to orgasm in under a few seconds, but he teases, and teases, edging me along for over an hour, getting me right to the edge, then slowing down and changing. I want to just grab his hair and pull him in and grind until I cum, but I refrain, I be his sub. It's almost an hour and a half before he finally brings me to orgasm. It's such an abrupt huge orgasm with my pussy squirting and yet so brief in length. It's so loud we later realised that our neighbors messaged us to see if we are okay. As I lay there, body twitching, sweating, legs still spread my partner fucks me again. Talking about how I am a dirty slut that needs to be treated like a sex slave. I can't even move as he takes advantage of me, I wonder if this is what it feels like to be date raped. My mind is willing but my body is not. He lasts a long time which is unusual, eventually pulling out and squirting his load onto my face. Leaving it there. I eventually summon the energy to clean it up and move. The leather lounge soaked from my juices, the carpet below it wet.

I make everyone some tea, I sit silent on the chair mentally and physically exhausted and yet feeling surreal. My partner suggests that I organise my Mum to look after the kids tonight so we can continue. I nod subserviently. Over the next few hours my pussy is eaten a few more times and my partner fucks me. I've lost count of how many orgasms I've had. I've become a orgasm magnet. My partner acting like a little boy at Christmas as his fantasy unfolds. Planning the different scenes of me being a oral sex sub with a dom who needs to eat pussy. It's dark outside when my partner finally says that I need to be fucked. I tell him I've had enough for the day and he tells me I've been a bad girl. I need to do what he says. My sisters husband tells him that I'm done and that we need to wrap it up. He gets angry and starts getting aggressive. I need to leave.

I grab a few things and escape, I feel unsafe like I had never felt with my partner before. I go to my sisters place, exhausted. Her husband comforting me, shocked at the sudden change of behaviour. It's like there were two different people. We talk about random stuff and chat before finally making our way to bed. He's given me the guest bedroom. I lay down for a few moments and then like a robot get out.. walk into their bedroom and ask if I can join him "for the comfort". He tells me it's okay, but he doesn't want any "funny business". We sleep peacefully, through the night I wake realising that I've snuggled up to him, feeling his body against mine, the warmth. I think this is how my sister must feel, safe, secure, warm. It makes me insanely jealous. I struggle to get back to sleep. In the morning I wake to him drying himself after a shower. I just lay there smiling and watching. It feels good. He leaves for work, leaving me in the house alone. I put on some of my sisters sexy lingerie, it doesn't fit. Her body is more sporty, bigger breasts, bigger arse. My body more pear shaped, small breasts. It makes me think that I need to buy some new sexy stuff to wear. As I go through her clothes I find a little toy. I find myself figuring it out, its like a little pulse suction thing that goes over the clitoris. I find myself experimenting with it, before long I'm fully engaged with it, my legs spread on the bed, the toy simulating a good dose of oral sex. It's mind boggling good. It's fucking amazing. I bring myself to orgasm on the bed, again in the bath, again in the shower, I go out to the living room and again on the table, then the battery goes flat and I am left wondering what I am going to do for the rest of the day.

I find myself walking around the house completely naked, the doors and windows all open the warm breeze flowing in. The feeling of being nude and free feels so empowering. The sun beaming down on my body as I lay on the outdoor lounge. It's about 3pm when he arrives home. I feel like a teenage girl getting all excited by a boy band. I feel stupid giggling and all flirty. He's surprised that I am totally naked. He asks me what I've done for the day and I tell him without exception. He's unimpressed that I've "stolen" his wife's toy but says that it's good that I've had a relaxing day. I make him dinner, and set the table as though it's a date. I have no idea what's come over me. I can tell that this makes him feel uncomfortable, he tells me that he would prefer to eat outside casually. I agree. We sit on separate bean bags eating and chatting. I'm still naked and I ask him what his fantasies are.. What his dreams and aspirations are. I say that I've known him for 20+ years and I have no idea who he is more broadly. His responses stuck me as being unusually deep and well thought out. It struck me how many layers he has, he's not just a fuck toy. I feel sad that he doesn't have any unfulfilled sexual fantasies.

It occurred to us simultaneously that I hadn't received any messages from my partner since our abrupt exit. He encourages me to contact him. I ring him and it rings out, I leave a message. I find it unsettling.

[mxchellesworld]

Discuss!

Spencer Reid x Reader

Synopsis; Where the team discusses the question ‘do you kiss after head’, you find out Spencer has too little experience to answer the question so you help him out

Warnings; smut, oral (male receiving), sub!spencer, praise, slight degradation 

a/n; LMAO im so sorry for disappearing again life has been actually kicking my ass but anyways lately i’ve been thinking about subby early season spence so here we go,, hope you enjoy!

***

Another Friday night and the team was out bar crawling after an easy case. But this time all members were there as it reached 11pm which was rare. Usually Hotch and JJ would have been home by 10:30 and Spencer wouldn’t have been there at all. But there was something light in the air which had all parties concerned sitting packed in a booth, laughing after each sip of their drinks. 

Since it wasn’t your first rodeo together you knew how the night went. It started off with Rossi offering to buy the first few rounds, always whiskey but he made an exception for Penelope. Then again who would deny her anything. 

Once the drinks were flowing and lips got a little loose, the questions would start popping in at the top of your heads. However these were not your run of the mill, ‘hows so and so doing?’ ‘done your taxes yet?’ oh no. The name of the game was discuss where you would all think of a question which would help you dig just a tiny bit deeper into your coworkers sex lives. 

Maybe if you were all sober then you’d avoid thinking of each other in such positions, pun intended, yet in this state your prying minds were open and your stomachs were ready to grow abs from bending over in laughter. 

You raised the margarita glass up clinking it with a fork to get the tables attention. Everyone including Aaron had a smile on their face, ready to hear the intrusive question for the night. 

“Ok my fellow profilers, doctor, and tech genius,” you added pointing at Spencer then Pen, “Do you kiss your partner after they give you head? Discuss!” you finished in your most formal voice. 

Right as you took a swig of your drink the mixed responses of yes and no filled your small space. 

“Why wouldn’t you? You guys especially, if someones willingly trying to swallow then you damn well owe them a kiss,” Emily finished earning nods and ‘exactly’s from JJ, Pen, and yourself. 

“Ok but thats weird. I just can’t explain it but its a no go for me,” Morgan finished. This only gained him a scoff and raised voices, “Hotch man help me out here,” he said looking over to the man hiding his smirk behind the amber liquid. 

“I have to agree with the ladies here Derek,” he said curtly. 

The girls yelped and hooted at Hotch for siding with them while Morgan sat with his arms crossed being the singular person left out as even Rossi agreed. Meanwhile you noticed the presence next to you had shrunk back and wasn’t too active in the conversation. 

“So Spence do you kiss your partner after they,” you trailed off shaking your fist by your cheek and poking your tongue in the side. 

He coughed as he instantly sat up quicker. Even under the dim lights of the bar you could still see the blush creeping up from his neck to his ears and the slightest tint on his cheeks. 

“Oh I uh- I never-” he said looking anywhere but your eyes. 

“You don’t kiss them?” you said raising your brows. 

“No! I-i mean yes. I would I think b-but I haven’t had the chance to actually partake in such.. activities,” he finished finally taking a look into your eyes. 

You could tell he was waiting for you to laugh in his face for being so inexperienced but you felt far from it. If anything you wished you could be the one to show him things. 

That sweet boy had you wrapped around his finger and he didn’t even know it. Maybe it was his naivety considering how exceptionally smart he was. Or maybe it was the cute sweater vests he wore and now he nervously tucked his hair behind his ears. All you knew was that you wanted Spencer Reid and tonight was your night to make it happen. 

You hummed taking in the information, “Well that’s not a bad thing Spence. Everything takes time,” you said putting your hand on his arm for comfort and giving him a smile. 

Going to turn back to face the table you almost didn’t hear Spencer go to speak again, “Do you?” 

Got him.

“Why don’t you find out pretty boy,” you said with a wink as you downed the rest of your marg. In the corner of your eye you could see Spencer shifting in his seat, subtly moving his bag to cover the slowly growing tent in his slacks. 

As the night went by you couldn’t help but really give him a show. You had popped open a button or two on the long sleeve you had on, since it was getting stuffy in the booth. Though when you leaned forward and jutted your chest out, the soft inhale of a breath from the man next to you was just serving as motivation to get bolder. 

For the last hour you called it quits on the alcohol and drank a few glasses of water before you drove home. Spencer had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since your little interactions. 

The team had all gotten up to say their goodbyes. Rossi going by and giving everyone a kiss on each cheek. Derek having to quite literally rangle Penelope from talking to passing by groups on their way out. Then there were two. 

You turned to the side where Spencer was nursing on his coke, “Hey pretty boy, it’s late, let me give you a ride home,” you said grabbing your belongings. 

“Y-yeah ok. Thanks Y/n,” he said getting up. You’d noticed how he still had the burnt orange bag over his crotch. He couldn’t still be hard could he? Well you’d love to find out. 

As gentlemanly as he was, Spencer opened the door for you to exit the building first. The whip of fresh night air cooling on your exposed chest and legs under your skirt. 

You unlocked your car and stepped in, Spencer waiting to hear the little beep signaling his side was open. As he sat down you heard him let out a little whimper. Your head shot over to look at him, you could tell from the flush on his cheeks he didn’t mean to let the noise out. 

Holding in your chuckle you started the ignition and pulled out of the lot, “Can I put on some music?” 

“Yeah I don’t mind,” he said looking over at you with his lips in a line. If it was anyone else, they’d probably think he was uncomfortable but you loved his tiny awkward smiles. 

The ride to his apartment was mostly silent besides a rare quip from Spencer about paper work or fact about an older building you had passed by. It fascinated you to no end hearing him talk. Spencer was a hand speaker, meaning he always used his hands waving them around and making gestures. The pale digits had you captivated. Probably a driving hazard but you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. 

You pulled up into one of the visitor spots and put the car in park. You looked over to see Spencer almost contemplating something. You’d seen the look on his face before when he was looking over puzzles. 

“Somethin on your mind Doc?” you said with a small smile. As cute as he looked when he was nervous, you’d never want him to feel uncomfortable around you. 

“Would you-,” he cleared his throat, “Wo- Would you maybe want to c-come inside?” 

“Of course Spence I’d love to,” you finished with a reassuring nod. 

As he led you upstairs you were giddy with anticipation. So what if nothing happened. He was your friend first and you were glad he was letting you into his personal space. Even if you wanted nothing more than to have him writhi-

“Y/n?” 

The door closing snapped you out of your thoughts. You didn’t even realize you were in his living room. The dark green walls and shelves bursting with books put a grin on your face, “Sorry Doc, just caught up in my thoughts. What did you say hun?” 

His brows practically raised to his hairline from hearing the pet name. While he was used to the names coming from Garcia they took a whole different light coming from your lips. 

“I was asking if you wanted water or something,” he said fiddling with the keys in his hands. Eyes darting everywhere but your face so you wouldn’t be able to see the flush rising on his cheeks. 

“No I’m fine thanks for asking though,” you said taking a seat on the worn leather couch. 

You reached for the tv remote making a face at Spencer to ask for permission. He nodded and you settled back turning on an old sitcom that played late at night. 

As the episode ended you both sat in silence. Again you didn’t mind but you could practically hear the cogs moving in Spencer’s brain. 

You were about to speak when he cut you off before you could even get a word out, “What did you mean by ‘why don’t you find out’.”

Gaining confidence you moved closer to where he was on the couch, slow enough for him to stop you in case he wanted to back out. 

“Well you have options pretty boy,” you said moving a leg to straddle him. Your hands instinctively going to his brown locks. You could’ve sworn you heard a little moan leave his chapped lips. Noted. 

“W-what are the options,” lust blown eyes looked up to yours. 

“One, you can put that mouth to good use on me,” you said trailing your finger over his bottom lip, “and let me cum over that pretty face.” 

His eyes shut hearing your words and you weren’t having it, “Nuh uh eyes on me honey,” instantly they were back on yours. 

“Or number two. I can suck you off and let you cum down my throat, but,” you paused making sure to roll your hips on his growing length, “ you have to give me a nice big smooch after.” 

The hands on your hips pulled you closer as he bucked his hips into you as you finished the sentence. It was clear which option was preferred. 

You moved to slide down in between his legs. You let your hands trail down his clothed thighs, causing him to jump. 

“Tsk such a needy boy,” you said mockingly, “Am I not going fast enough baby?”

“Please Y/n,” he all but whimpered. It was like music to your ears. 

Your hands went to his belt, looking up in his eyes for a final sign of permission. Once he nodded you quickly undid it and he lifted his hips to help get his pants down. You palmed him over his boxers, feeling the wet patch where he was already leaking pre cum. 

“Is this all for me Spence? Does the thought of my lips around you make you this hard,” you said taking him out of the striped confines. 

“Oh god please just,” he cut himself off. You could see his hands curling fists besides his legs. 

“Please what baby? I can’t give you anything unless you ask.” Your hands continued their task of leisurely stroking his length. 

“Fuck please put your mouth on me,” he rushed out, hips bucking to prove his point. 

The answer was good enough for you so you wasted no time in leaning forward and taking him in your mouth. Both of you let out content sighs as you tried to take him further. 

You looked up to see him with his head leaned back, eyes scrunched closes in pleasure. 

You pulled off with a pop, letting your hand work him over. “Better keep those pretty eyes on me before I decide you can’t finish.”

He looked down with a flash of worry, that was quickly replaced by a loud moan as you spit down on his cock before taking him in your mouth again. 

For a germaphobe, Spencer loved how nasty it was. He was thanking god or whatever higher being there was for giving him his eidetic memory because the sight below him was something he’d never wanna forget. 

Your eyes were teary and you had spit dribbling down your chin but he wanted nothing more than to give you more than just a kiss after you finished. Or well after he finishes. 

You could tell he was close by the way he was throbbing on your tongue. Again taking him out of your mouth you used both hands to jerk him off. 

“You’re doing such a good job baby. So good for me. You wanna cum in my mouth pretty boy?”

“God Y/n I’m so close please please please,” he whimpered out. 

“Cum for me baby, be my good boy Spence,”  you said before taking him down your throat. He was big, not girthy but long and it was a struggle but you’d be damned if you didn’t try to take him all. 

Hollowing your cheeks you bobbed your head quickly, egging on his release further. His hands finally found a place in the back of your head. Pushing you down further as he came. 

“F-fuck Y/n I’m gonna”

His moans and whines were a symphony of sounds you’d have on repeat in your head forever. 

You swallowed the salty release but before you could even wipe your lips you were being pulled up by Spencer placing his lips on yours. You moaned into the kiss, his hands gripped the sides of your face not wanting to let you go. 

The need for air made you both pull back. You looked at one another, chests heaving and looking like you ran a marathon. 

Then a sad look came across his face. 

“Spencer what’s wrong?” 

“You didn’t get any pleasure,” he said looking like a hurt puppy. Oh your sweet boy. 

“It’s ok baby, I can take care of myself,” you tried to shrug off.

He was quick to push you back on the couch, taking the spot you were previously in. His warm lips trailing down your exposed thighs. 

“I wanna do it, but only if you kiss me after.” 

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE ONE || RYOMEN SUKUNA

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + gojo satoru + ryomen sukuna from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mentions of blood + mention of killing + mention of mass murder (word massacres is mentioned) + mention of death + swearing and EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 07 february

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 3.8k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ next episode : for myself

↳ barista’s notes : to be honest with you guys, this little imagine here is such a mess and i had fun writing it since it have me an excuse to watch the first and a tiny bit of episodes one and two of jujutsu kaisen again ʕ￫ᴥ￩　ʔ 

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. all the ‘curse spells’ mentioned in this are related to Bleach (their use of Kido - credits go to: Tite Kubo) so these ain’t my original ideas since i started this at like 11pm on a saturday night. 

2. there is some dialogue missing since this is from your perspective as a reader and not Fushiguro’s or Itadori’s 

3. as you all know, the storyline isn’t mine, it belongs to Gege Akutami 

4. this whole thing might be confusing and please don’t expect a part two because i will do it when i am ready or feel like i can at the right time ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ 

5. i don’t know, if i am going to add this onto my masterlist since this was just for fun to be honest!

thank you so much for taking the time to read this and i hope you enjoy your free cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen) ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

“L/N, are you going to come with us?”

Looking away from the window you were viewing out from, you paused sipping from your carton of orange juice before turning your head to quickly discover two female students looking at you with anticipation in their eyes only for you to look at them in some sort of confusion. 

“Come one, don’t tell me you didn’t hear about it? Coach Takagi and Itadori are competing!” one of the girls complained, obviously slightly annoyed at your oblivious nature to the news that was going around the school at this moment in time.

“Competing for?” you then questioned, as you stood straight from your leaning position causing the other female student to then rapidly answer by saying, “Coach is trying to requite Itadori for the nationals, so if he wins then itadori has to join the track club to compete!” 

‘Huh? What a drag’

“So do you wanna come to the track field with us to see who is going to win?” the two students asked again in a desperate tone, leading you to look at the window you were previously looking from to see the exact location that they had stated. “I’ll watch from here, it has a higher and wider view, so I would have a better look” you replied, before pointing at the track field that was on the other side of the glass causing the students to look out before nodding.

“We really want to see it up close, so we’ll see you tomorrow yeah?” the first female student asked, leading you to smile and nod at them before seeing them rapidly take off to the track field trying to make sure they arrived before the competition started.

Turning your smile back into a straight line, you turn back to the window that you were looking through before being interrupted while placing your drink’s straw between your lips letting the sweet but citrusy juice flow down your throat. Admiring the view, you decided to let your eyes roam free for a bit to see if there was anything interesting to observe before the supposed ‘competition’ started, which then led you to pause at the sight of the closed rugby field down below.

Coming out of the ground was a horrific creature with four arms before climbing up the pole revealing its large teeth leading you to stare at it with complete boredom as you then mentally took a quick note to exorcise it later when the school closed. However, what also came into your sights was a single male student down before staring at the same curse you were observing causing you to continue analysing the situation.

‘Can he see it? I don’t recall a student here having any curse energy’

From what you could tell, the student had black erratic hair with his hands in his pocket but from what you could see that other’s couldn’t, there was a faint but noticeable aura of curse energy surrounding his body generating a feeling of curiosity but nervousness within your stomach as you place your empty carton away from your lips. Suddenly, the male turned around leading you to have somewhat a clearer view of him, only to discover that he also had a pair of emerald eyes which then made you come to the conclusion that he wasn’t a student from the school. How could he? You could tell this ‘student’, and yourself was the same age meaning you would have at least seen him once or twice down the hallways and there was no new information about a student coming in, if there was, it would have been a buzz.

‘Don’t tell me one of the clans managed to find out about me?’ you anxious thought, leading you to take a short step back ensuring this sorcerer didn’t have a vivid view of you when you did of him. Hearing some cheering, you turned your head to the other side to find a small crowd forming with a metal ball being flung as two students ran out to measure the length between the dip of the sand from the coach indicating to you that the competition had started.

“14 metres!’ the one student shouted, leading to a round of applause from the audience spectating the event. However, from what your ears were managing to pick up, there were cheers for Itadori leading you to wonder if you could recall the classmate they were shouting for.

“Ah~ Itadori Yuji ha?” you rhetorically asked the air around you, not expecting an answer in return. Itadori Yuji was a first-year student like you were, member of the small occult research club with second years Sasaki and Iguchi when he could be in any athletic club if he wanted to. However, understandably you knew some people would rather do something than what their natural talents indicated. Once again, you saw the metal ball being thrown - this time from the pink-haired students - only for it to land that the corner of the football goal, yet what was the shocking thing was that the metal of the goal was bent leading you to look at the sight within widened eye - of course, you knew Itadori was fast and strong but not to the extent of what you had just witnessed.

“Wow, no wonder he was called ‘Tiger of the West Middle’,” you muttered under your breath before quickly reverting your eyes to find the sorcerer you were wary of. Surprisingly, he was now on the track field looking upon the competition mixing well with the other students like a little chameleon. Although, before you could continue to observe the student trying to see what his intentions were, Itadori suddenly ran past him with his large backpack on, only for the erratic-haired sorcerer’s eye to suddenly widen the second they crossed each other leading him to reach out for your classmate. However, there was only dust to be collected as Itadori was suddenly out of reach.

“Just what are you trying to gain, sorcerer? It’s already a drag that you’re here,” you quietly mumbled irritation before turning away from the window you were gazing from to collect your school bag from your classroom since you left it there to not have the burden of carrying it on your shoulder. However, what you didn’t notice was the same sorcerer peering up at the same window you were looking from with perplexity painted on his face.

‘Was someone watching me?’

                                              ꕥ

“Don’t tell me someone got a hold of that damn finger?” you angrily stated, as you suddenly felt an immense amount of pressure invade the school causing you to wonder if there was anyone within the school with you right now, as you began to increasingly worry about whoever got a hold of the special-grade object that you found a few nights before.

“I put a protective seal on it, who the hell broke it!?” you muttered, as you panicky ran up the stairs trying to follow the presence of the object you were desperately trying to get a hold of before forcibly pushing a door open leading it to smash against the wall as you continued to sprint across the halls.

As you quickly turned the corner, you saw a large curse blocking the path leading you to instinctively flow your curse energy flow to your hand to the tips of your finger as you began to confidently recite the spell you were about to cast after you had finished drawing the symbol with your curse energy in the air.

“Disintegrate, you black dog of Rondanini! Look upon yourself with the horror and then claw out your own throat! Binding Curse Spell number nine: Geki!” you chanted, leading to a thin light aqua aura of curse energy to surround the curse causing it to become completely paralysed. However, before you could cast another spell to destroy the curse, there was a sudden interruption causing you to look at the person in complete shock as they flew into the corridor from outside the window only for you to discover it was your own classmate.

“Itadori!” you screamed, only for him to grab what seemed like two people away from the curse as it was still immobilised from your spell leading you to turn to the side to find that it was both Sasaki and Iguchi in his arms causing your eye to further widen only for you to be then distracted by the curse being blown away to your direction leading you to use another spell to make sure you were caught in the process.

“Binding Curse Spell number eighty-one: Danku,” you hurriedly stated, leading to a large rectangular defensive wall to shield you away from the decapitated parts of the curse as well as the technique being used for it to explode the way it did. Unexpectedly, once the pathway was cleared you suddenly came eye to eye with the sorcerer you were peering down on the track field this afternoon causing a wave of uneasiness to consume your body. 

“Who are you?” he questioned leading to the two dogs beside him to growl at you showing their sharp canine that could easily pierce your skin if he commanded them to. Slowly, your hand moved to the hilt of your katana that was hanging horizontally on your back, before quickly coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t difficult to slice the two dogs down if you desired to.

“Shikigamis huh? I should just cut the user down before they could reach me, then they would disappear’

“Oh L/N? What are you doing here?” Itadori asked in shock, leading you and the sorcerer to look at him before the sorcerer suspiciously asked, “you know who she is?”.

“She’s a student at my school, she is in the higher class since she’s smarter than me,” Itadori explained, as he took the time to check on his two club members with a sincere look on his face to then discover that they were unconscious with Sasaki in a decent state with Iguchi in somewhat the same condition but with injuries to his face. Letting your shield gradually disappear, you slowly walked up to your senior as you crouched down to hover a hand over his face letting a flow of curse energy begin to heal his wounds.

“Itadori, how the hell did they get the finger?” you angrily questioned the boy while continuing to heal your upperclassman causing him to look at you in shock - due to your acknowledgement of the object - as he caught the cursed object that slipped out of Sasaki’s pocket once he picked her up in a bridal style. 

“How do you know about it?” the sorcerer then asked, only to be quickly silenced when you gave him a heated glare only for itadori to then explain that he was the one that picked it up for them since they wanted to sneak back into the school to unwrap the talisman for research for the occult club leading an irk to appear on your forehead. “Wasn’t there like a talisman paper placed on the door? You know like those like sheet of paper with Ancient Japanese writing painted on it?” you asked in a stern tone as you completed the healing process only for itadori to give you a questionable look.

“There was a hint of paper being there, but it seemed like it was ripped off,” itadori answered wearily, leading you to look up at him with enlarged eyes as you let out a breath of complete shock.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN RIPPED OFF?” you screamed as you rushed to your feet before grabbing the collar of his classic yellow jumper. From what you could recall, there was no possible way for the seal to be completely ripped off by the hands of a normal person, not even a simple sorcerer could even go through the barrier you had placed on it leading you to turn to the sorcerer, who was looking at the argument that was occurring right in front of his face.

“Was it you? No, from what I can see, you ain’t even a high enough grade to even go through it...Ah shit,” you cursed as you let go of Itadori’s collar before beginning to try to think of all the possibilities that could have happened that led to this accident.

“So, is this it Fushiguro?” Itadori asked the sorcerer, completely ignoring you as you were in a state of shock and confusion on what was going on. “Yeah, that’s the special-grade curse object, Ryomen Sukuna’s finger,” the sorcerer confirmed with Itadori as he then quickly mentioned, “it’s a miracle that it didn’t get swallowed, thanks to L/N curse technique back there.”

‘Fushiguro huh? Not Zenin, that’s a relief’

“Why would anything eat it? Does it taste good?” Itadori asked in curiosity, leading you and Fushguro to look at the boy with a questionable look on both your faces.

“Don’t be stupid,” you and Fushiguro simultaneously stated causing both of you to look at each other in shock before you then explained, “you’d do it to gain stronger curse energy. It’s dangerous, so hand it over to Fushiguro, it’s best to have him keep hold of it since the seal I placed was broken.”

“Sure, sure,” Itadori casually said, as he outstretched his hand to pass the finger to Fushiguro. However, before the sorcerer could take the object away from Itadori’s gasp, a large hand began to reach down below the two people causing you to look up in fear before instinctively pushing the two boys away from the area it was trying to target.

“RUN!” you screamed, before the ceiling crashed down between both of you, leaving you completely alone and vulnerable as the dust invaded your sights. In a panic, you swiftly grabbed the hilt of your katana to release the blade from its casing revealing an all-black weapon your hands, but once the smoked clear you found Fushiguro trapped in the hands of the curse before being forcibly through to the concrete wall causing a few hints of blood escaping from his mouth, to which lead to the two dogs that were protecting Itadori as well as the two second-year to disappear.

‘Shadows? Don’t tell me…’

However, before you could even complete your sudden thought, there was a sudden flash of lights blinding you before the whole side of the school to be destroyed along with Fushiguro, who was thrown across. In a state of terror, you rushed outside before using your speed to jump up the height needed before stabbing back of the curse’s head with your katana before quickly retreating back, leaving it there as the curse screeched in pain while preparing another curse spell to use to finish off the monstrosity.

“Destructive Curse Spell number seventy-three: Soren Soka-” you screamed, but you were interrupted once you suddenly found Itadori aggressively punch the curse’s head leading Fushiguro, who was laying down on the ground with blood pouring down his face to angrily shout, “Itadori! Why can’t you understand to take those two and run?!”.

“You’re in big trouble yourself!” Itadori screamed back, before being swung around as he then suddenly was being dragged along the metal railings of the balcony before his body was then swung into the air.

“Only curses can exorcise other curses! You can’t beat it!” Fushiguro argued back, only for this attempt to fall on death’s ears as itadori continued to fight against the curse as he masterfully dodged its attacks before playing his own as he kicked its ruby eye.

“Besides, I have my own troublesome curse already!” Itadori declared, causing you to look at your classmate in complete annoyance since you didn’t have a single clue on what he was rabbling about. As of right now, all you were wondering was where the cursed finger was since the last time you had seen it was in Itdori’s possession. 

Suddenly, before you realised it, the mentioned cursed object had slipped out of Itadori’s grasp causing you to quickly stand up on your feet to jump across the cure to reach it. On the other hand, it seemed like the curse was blocking your way by how it used both its arms to capture Itadori leading to the student to jump as high as he could to catch the finger by the grip of his teeth.

“You idiot!” you screamed, as you tried to concentrate your curse energy to flow to your palms as your katana was still within the curse’s head. “Hand it over to me or you'll be eaten, too!” Fushiguro yelled in a panic as he finally got up on his feet to chase after the wanted object.

Slowly, you raised your right hand before using your index finger to use it as a guide to where to aim your next spell at the finger without damaging your schoolmate in the process. “Destructive Curse Spell number one: Sho,” you quickly chanted leading to a small amount of curse energy in a concentrated manner to shoot from the tip of your index finger, yet before it even had the chance to hit the finger away from Itadori’s teeth, he threw thing finger up in the air using the force of his head leading your curse spell to be a futile attempt.

“There is a way to save everyone! I just need some cursed energy right. Fushiguro, L/N?!” Itadori cried out, leading you to again attempt to shoot the cursed finger away from where you assumed Itadori wanted it to go, while Fushiguro looked upon the situation in complete fear of what was going to happen.

“Don’t..Don’t do it!” Fushiguro shouted in a hostile tone, only for Itadori to swallow the special-grade cursed object causing you and the other sorcerer to look at the scene in complete disbelief.

‘He’s going to die, that’s a deadly poison..but...there’s a one in a million chance’

Suddenly, the arms of the curse disintegrated into small particles of flesh before Itadori landed on his feet, only for the curse to attempt to attack the salmon-hair boy again, leading to being completely destroyed with a single wing of an arm to which caused your katana, which was stuck within the flesh of the curse, to fly into the air before landing with a loud ‘clunk’. 

Yet, that wasn’t your main concern.

Your feet were glued to the ground as you looked upon the sight right in front of you. Fushiguro was staring at the same scene with dread flooding his green eyes as Itadori was now covered with the black markings of what you both come to know from basic jujutsu knowledge.

‘Y/N dear, I’m so sorry for putting you through this, if Sukuna ever comes into this era, it is your duty as a sorcerer and the only offspring of the L/N clan to exorcise him, promise me that please?’

‘Why.....why did you have to die mother?’

“Ah, I knew it! The light feels best in the flesh,” ‘Itadori’ declared, as he then processed to rip his yellow hoodie in excitement before brisking his flesh to the moonlight that was shining right above him. “A cursed spirit’s flesh is so boring. Where are the people? The women?!” ‘Itadori’ questioned before jumping onto the railings as he continued his speech, “what a wonderful era to be in, women and children are crawling everywhere like maggots. Marvellous! It’ll be a massacre!”

Without the acknowledgement of who you deemed to be Sukuna and Fushiguro, you slowly raised your right hand with an open palm as you began to whisper another curse spell to make the exorcism a little easier for you, “Binding Curse Spell number sixty-three: Sajo Sabaku''. As you closed your palm, there was a sudden manifestation of a yellow electrified chain being created as it loosely surrounded the King of Curse before tightly securing its place around his body.

“Ah-” Sukuna said in surprise before taking a step back from the balcony to observe the yellow chains that encaptured him. “L/N!” Fushiguro shouted as he looked at you with widened eyes surprised at how you figured out how to retain him so fast.

‘At this rate, he should be somewhat easier to exorcise, Itadori has only one finger within his system, it’s going to be okay right?’

However, before you could even comprehend what to do next as your tactic you suddenly heard a change in tone of voice. “What do you think you’re doing with my body?”  Sukuna asked, only for you to realise that it was Itadori who was speaking at this moment in time, “give it back”.

“How are you able to move?” Sukuna questioned his vessel back, as he was in pure confusion on how the human still maintained some control of his body. “I mean, it’s my body,” itadori answered back, only causing you more confusion on what was going on since Sukuna’s markings were still visible to his body.

“Don’t move! You’re no longer human,” Fushiguro stated in a serious tone, as he crouched down before moving his hand in front of him as he processed to make fists. 

“Under Jujutsu regulations, Itadori Yuuji, I will exorcise you as a curse!” Fushiguro announced, causing you to look at him with surprise painted upon your face. However, since you were beginning to lose a certain amount of curse energy, your chains slowly began to disappear leading Itadori’s hands to now more freely while Fushiguro’s worries about you begin to increase.

“Wait, really. I‘m just fine!” Itadori stated in innocence, as he raised his now-free hands as if he was surrendering to the sorcerer while his markings began to fade gradually. “More importantly, you and I are both pretty beat up, let’s go to a hospital,” Itadori declared as he was worried for the male right in front of him. On the other hand, you suddenly realise that there were shadows slowly swirling around Fushiguro leading to your assumption earlier to be true.

‘Fushguro is a Zenin...I..have….to’

“What’s the situation?” 

All of a sudden, a new voice came into the area leading you to turn your head to the side to find a rather tall male standing next to Fushiguro. From a quick glance, you could immediately inform yourself that had spiky white hair with a black blindfold covering his eyes, as he carried a paper bag on his arm while wearing a similar outfit to Fushiguro meaning he was another sorcerer.

“Gojo-sensei?! Why are you here?” Fushiguro asked in surprise, as he turned to look at what you assumed to be his teacher leading to the shadows around him to immediately disappear from sight.

“Gojo…” you muttered under your breath as you looked at the two male sorcerers right in front of you in horror as you came to the realisation on the situation you were facing.

‘Mother…..I’ve been found…..’

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[dollslayer]

For the drabble challenge: Bucky Barnes / He took the last treadmill

Gains

Bucky Barnes x Reader, No Powers AU Summary: Bucky Barnes has stolen the last treadmill and with it, the last shred of your patience. W/C: 2k Warnings: Smut, swearing, semi-public sex, unprotected sex A/N: I wrote this for @syntheticavenger's 5k How it started/How it's going celebration/challenge!! I know it's been a minute since I've written anything but if you liked this please comment/reblog! Main Masterlist

How it started -

You heaved a heavy sigh as you finally got into your car. Looking at the clock on your dashboard you noticed it was nearly 11pm. You were fresh off of a late night at the office that ended with you being chewed out in the boardroom for someone else’s mistakes and desperately needed to release all your pent up rage. You can’t run away from your problems but you can damn well try at the gym.

You reached for the door but before you could reach it a large hand was pulling the handle and holding the door for you. The hand lead to a thick forearm with veins trailing up to perfectly sculpted biceps. You peered up at the owner of the sculpted arm and found it belonged to maybe the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. He has crystal blue eyes and pillowy lips curved slightly into a grin. Strands of shoulder length hair are falling out of the small bun he’s tied it into and into his face.

You didn’t realize you’d stopped midstep, leaving him waiting on you to walk through the entryway. Quickly looking away with a huff of small embarrassment you muster a small thank you and pick up the pace towards the locker rooms. You were suddenly feeling nervous at the realization that you’d have to work out in front of him but the thought of him in less clothing was appealing enough to distract you.

You’d figured given the hour that the gym wouldn’t be so busy but looking around it was teeming with activity. As if your day couldn’t be any more annoying, one lone treadmill stood open so you hustled to the locker rooms to change so you could claim it.

Just as you were about to put your phone in your locker and head out you were bombarded by a slew of work emails, making you furious all over again. Anger refueled, you set off with new determination for the treadmill. Just as you were about to enter the main gym area the same guy that held the door open for you was headed in the same direction. Smiling, you held the door open for him this time with a small laugh, which he thanked you for before bounding off.

His huge stride was heading in a direction that was giving you a bad feeling. You tried to fastwalk past him, hoping that you could beat him there but before you could touch the rails he was stepping onto the last fucking treadmill. You came to a stop with a look of disbelief and he looked over his shoulder and smirked at you.

“Somethin’ wrong, doll?”

“No,” you scoffed before walking away towards the ellipticals.

With the state of your temper right now you didn’t trust yourself not to blow up on him. You tell yourself that the gym asks people to only use equipment for a certain amount of time, someone’s bound to get off soon. You were breaking a sweat but it wasn’t really releasing all the built up tension you had like running would. Glancing over you spy one open treadmill, but of fucking course the only one open is next to him.

Heaving a sigh you turn up your music and step up to the treadmill intent on ignoring him. His head turns slightly towards you and out of the corner of your eye you spy a smirk. You roll your eyes and up the pace, hoping to block out the rest of the world for a bit.

You let yourself get lost in the workout and finally felt some of your frustrations melt away. When you’d reached your limit and got off you looked around and realized that the man was gone, so was most everyone else. Checking the time you noted it was nearly 2 AM and you figured you’d better call it a night if you were ever going to deal with the shit show that awaited you tomorrow morning at the office.

Walking back to the locker rooms the man from earlier was passing you on his way out and gave you a mischievous grin.

“I steal your treadmill back there, doll?” He asks playfully.

“Don’t let it happen again” You say jokingly with a small smile, still slightly annoyed.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” He chuckles, “Have a good night.”

You wish him a good night as he walks on past you, notes of his body wash hitting your senses. As annoyed as you’d been you definitely wouldn’t mind running into him again.

Another week or so had gone by and another fiasco at work had erupted. You weren’t sure how much more of it you could take but you’d made a habit of running at the gym whenever shit went down at work. You’d yet to run into the handsome stranger again but he’d probably just distract you anyway so it was for the better.

You’d opted for lifting light weights and in doing so, you’d completely missed Man Bun just across the room. You’d forgotten that you wanted to run. You got up and turned towards the treadmills. You had stepped forward just in time for Man Bun to take the last. Fucking. Treadmill. Again. Your jaw actually dropped a little and didn’t try to conceal your scoff.

“Come on!” you even stamped your foot a little. After the time you’ve been having at work all you’d wanted was to let off some steam but here he was again with his cocky attitude treating it like a joke.

He actually stopped the treadmill and turned around, a toothy grin proudly on display.

“I did it again, didn’t I? Don’t worry I’m sure someone else will be off soon”

How it’s going -

Your back met the cold tiles of the shower as he pushed you back with a harsh kiss. His lips caught yours, stealing your moans as his large calloused hands ran their way down your curves. You focused your efforts on pushing down his sweats, his cock springing free from its confines.

“No underwear? How presumptuous” You ask against his lips with a smile.

“What can I say? I was feeling lucky”

He hooked his fingers in your leggings and pulled them down. You hastily stepped out of them and worked to remove your top, leaving you in only a sports bra and your panties. He paused for a second before taking your panties in his fist and snapping them in one go. You gasped, slightly shocked but it just turned you on further.

He was to the point in what he wanted, his fingers finding your core and sinking right in. Your moan turned into a whimper as he curled his fingers inside you, hitting you right in your G-spot. You were feeling small under him, his perfectly toned chest proudly on display and his biceps bulging as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

The pleasure you were feeling in this moment had you in disbelief that you’d ever been hesitant of him when he cornered you earlier.

By the time you’d finally gotten done with your run you’d realized everyone had petered out, even Man Bun. You reckoned it was time for you to head out too. It was kind of eerie being alone in the gym so you wanted to shower and get out as quickly as possible.

As you were about to push the door open a familiar, large hand covered yours. You could feel his body heat and smell whatever soap he’d used, that’s how close he was. You turned around and he kept his arm outstretched past you, you were practically in his arms.

Your eyes met his and you let out a shaky breath, you weren’t really sure what to make of the expression on his face. You raised your eyebrows in waiting.

“Just wanted to apologize, for takin’ your treadmill and all. Seems to be a habit of mine, huh?”

“I’m starting to think you meant to.”

“I gotta admit, I saw you gunnin’ for that treadmill and I wanted to beat you there. What do you say I make it up to you?”

He was definitely making it up to you now. He was a man on a mission, pressing his palm firmly against your clit and working against your spot, trying desperately to get you to cum. You couldn’t do anything but cling desperately to his shoulders. Your cries were getting louder as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. You finally snapped and came with a shout before nearly slumping against him. His arms caught you and he laughed a little to himself.

“So fuckin’ good for me, you’re gonna take me so well.” He pressed a sloppy kiss to your temple as you tried to get your bearings. You reached down to grab his cock in your hands, he was rock hard and you wanted nothing more than to run your tongue along them.

You shakily began to sink down to your knees but a strong hand grasped you by the shoulders and pulled you up before you could.

“Just wanna feel you” He breathed out before pressing a kiss to your lips.

It was your turn to smirk at him, slowly standing up to your full height. He kissed you again as his large hands grabbed your breasts one at a time, toying with your nipples and making you whimper just slightly. You could feel his cock hard against your thigh and decided you needed him now.

You lifted your thigh up over his hip, which he was all too eager to hold while you grabbed him and positioned him at your entrance. His other hand grasped your hip and he thrusted into you with determination, causing you to let out an obscene moan. He was hitting you so deeply and when he began moving you swore you couldn’t take him.

He hooked one arm under your leg as he pistoned in and out of you at a pace you weren’t quite ready for but you’d reveled in the feeling of. He was hitting you deeper than you’d ever thought possible by anyone else you’d had before.

“Shit,” He huffed, “Gonna fuck you stupid?”

You could only whimper in response as he did just that. He wasn’t holding anything back as he thrust into you over and over. You were quickly becoming overwhelmed but in the best way possible. You couldn’t help the noises that came out of you, couldn’t help the begging for him to continue.

As he pistoned in and out of you while keeping a vice grip on your leg you let out the most wanton little mewls, only spurring him on further. He was dragging every inch of him out of you and then slamming it back in, all the while his thumb toying with your clit. You weren’t sure how much longer you could hold out and you couldn’t tell what was more exciting, the thought of him ruining you or the realization that anyone could walk in and see you two. Right now you didn’t care so long as he kept at it.

You tugged at his tresses, pulling them loose from the low bun they hung in, eliciting grunts and groans from him. You latched your mouth onto his neck and found his sweet spot, sucking a deep bruise into it.

“Fuck, babydoll, I don’t know how much longer I can hold out”

“Then don’t”

That was all the motivation it took for him to slam into you at full force, his fingers working double time to help you reach your high once more. You thought you couldn’t take anymore as he slammed into you harder than he had and bit harshly into your neck as he spilled himself inside of you with one final thrust.

You cried out as you came around him, feeling your pussy pulse in waves as you registered the aftershocks. You leaned your head back against the tiles while you tried to catch your breath, vaguely hearing his own sighs. Finally feeling up to sorts, you looked up at him only to find his hazy blue eyes boring into yours. A part of you can’t believe you’d done such a thing in public with a man who was practically a stranger but the other part was just as turned on by the fact.

“Think I’ve given enough penance for you, doll?”

“Not even close.”

[1plus1kiyoomi]

Sakusa’s Best Gift

: fluff, domestic, dad!sakusa, dad!sakusa

a/n: happy birthday to my mans!! 🥳❤️

Sakusa sighs heavily as he slings the bag over his shoulder. He glances at his watch and frowns. It’s 30 minutes after 10PM. He only has an hour and a half left to celebrate his birthday. If it wasn’t for the damn training that took over his whole day, he would have spent his day with you and your daughter.

Sakusa never even liked celebrating, but your daughter was so excited about his birthday. She rambled all night about how she would make it the happiest birthday of his life. She even planned a surprise for him, which he knows all about, because the child wasn’t particularly good at whispering and keeping secrets.

Sakusa knows about the cake your daughter iced herself. He knows about the dried peaches that she made for him. He knows about the card she wrote for him. But her plans are all ruined because of a training he could have skipped, but he didn’t want to. He regrets making that choice.

After a quick drive to your house, Sakusa checks the time before getting out of his car. A little over 11PM. It’s still his birthday. He silently wishes that you are still awake so at least he can spend the remaining time of his day with you. He enters the house and sees how dark the hallway is, the only light provided is the one from the kitchen.

“They must be asleep...” Sakusa frowns. He stalks to your room and finds your sleeping figure tucked under the bed. He drops his bag on the floor quietly before sitting on the foam. He pulls his mask down and plants a kiss on your forehead, mouthing a soft ‘I love you.’

The athlete changes into his pajamas and just when he’s about to join you in bed, the door opens.

“Papa?” A small voice speaks and the door opens wider. Sakusa smiles at sight. His little girl in a black Jackal pajama set, that was specially made for her given by the team. Her small hand rubs on her eye, the other clutching on her her fuzzy blanket.

Sakusa walks over to her and tries to pick her up, but she avoids his hold and gets out of the room. He follows after her small figure. “Hey, baby. Why are you still awake?”

She goes to the kitchen and pulls the fridge handle with all her might, the blanket pooling on her ankles. Sakusa watches her in confusion and amusement. The refrigerator door finally opens and she points at a box. She looks up to him with dog eyes. “Papa, help...”

“Oh, sorry,” Sakusa chuckles. He was so amused of her actions he forgot to help her. He takes the box from her and places it on the dining table. “What’s this?”

“Don’t open it yet!” Your daughter scolds. She runs out of the kitchen and ventures back to her room. Not long after, the small girl comes back quickly with a big box in her arms. She checks on the digital wall clock and sighs in relief.

“What’s that?” Sakusa asks her and she climbs on the dining chair, the box she was bringing now on the table.

“Happy birthday, papa!” She cheers, taking the lid off the first box. There’s a cake inside covered by pink icing and topped by sliced peaches, a lot of sprinkles too. “I love you!”

Sakusa hugs her tightly, lowering his body to kiss her cheek. “Thank you, baby. I love you too.”

“I waited for you to come home!” She proudly tells him, hugging him back. “I made you a gift! Open it! Open it!” He opens the gift as she says. It’s a scrapbook with a bracelet that he can tell she made herself from the mismatched beads. There’s also a bottle of alcohol that is designed with car and rainbow stickers. A

“I like it. Thank you.” He smiles at her, and she returns the favor, flashing her small pearly teeth at Sakusa. “Let’s go to sleep. It’s late.”

“No! No! It’s still your birthday. We have to celebrate it until that clock turns 1 and 2!” His daughter argues, pointing at the clock.

“We can celebrate it tomorrow.” He picks her up from the chair despite her whines, but she eventually gives in to her sleepiness. As the father and daughter reach your shared bedroom, she’s already fast asleep, too fast for someone who was jumping like a bunny a few seconds ago.

“Omi?” You sit up from the bed, hand slowly rubbing on your eye. Sakusa can not help but smile. You and your daughter act way too much similarly. No wonder why he loves her the way he loves you.

Sakusa lays your daughter in the middle of the bed before slowly pushing your should back down to the bed. “Go back sleep.”

“But your birthd-”

“Shh... no wonder why our daughter is so excited about my birthday. We can celebrate it tomorrow.” He pecks you on your lips and you nod, wrapping your arms around your child before closing your eyes and drifting back to sleep.

After making sure that the two of you are asleep, Sakusa gets out of the room to put back the boxes on the table back to its proper places. He puts the cake box back into the fridge first, after snapping a photo of course. He would never forget to take a picture of his daughter’s masterpiece.

Out of curiosity, Sakusa picks up the scrapbook and flips through it. It’s just pictures of him when he was a child up to now. He takes a mental note to call his mother, because other than her who else would give you access to such embarrassing pictures? He stops on a page, seeing his baby picture with his parents, and a small note you wrote at the side.

Don’t forget to thank your parents for giving life to you. Because I surely am thankful to them for giving birth to you. ❤️

Sakusa lets out a snicker. “So cheesy.” He smiles at your note nonetheless. On the next page was him as a baby and your daughter months after her birth. The resemblance is uncanny. She surely is her daughter. He laughs at your written note at the side.

I carry her for nine months and go through so much pain to push her out, but she still ended up looking like you! That’s so unfair! But it’s okay as well. At least I get to see a little you everyday.

He stops on a page with a picture of only the two of you back in high school. Sakusa is sure that the picture was taken during his 18th birthday. In the photo, he was holding on to a cake you baked, while you were hugging him by the waist. He never understood what was so happy about birthdays until that day. He doesn’t forget to read the note.

Your first birthday that we spent together. Komori and I had a hard time planning it because you didn’t want to celebrate it, but we know you had a great time that day. And we did it for the first time that day 😳

Sakusa chokes at his own saliva after reading the last sentence. He clears his throat and continues to skim through the book. At the very last page is a picture of the three of you together. It’s a simple picture but it’s Sakusa’s favorite. The three of you were in bed, your daughter’s arms wrapped around his neck, while you are seated between his legs. One of his hands was on your growing belly, and the other is on the back of your daughter’s back. The note on the side undoubtedly makes his heart swell in happiness and his lips curl into a big smile.

Thank you for being born in this world.

And below your handwriting is your daughter’s.

We love you so much.

Before the clock strikes 12, he opens his phone and posts a picture of you and your daughter in his Instagram, his first ever post in his account. He’s a private person, but everyone deserves to see the two of you— the best gift ever given to him.