#Unless I pull through and keep reading 2-3 books a day

[fuckaperioddrama]

Theodore Nott Headcanons

Warnings: Theodore / Asshole? | Mentions of Oral Sex / (female receiving) | Sex (P in V) | Fingering | Fem Reader | Me Ranting | Curse Words | Let me know if I missed something?

Author’s Notes: Kinda realistic, but you have to be a little delulu with the Slytherin boys. FIRST POST!

Proofread, but there's probably still mistakes.

Mattheo Riddle Headcanons

Lorenzo Berkshire Headcanons

Blaise Zabini Headcanons

Tom Riddle Headcanons

Masterlist

Minors DNI | 18+

___

Theodore Nott | Physique

6’5 - 6'6 | Sorry, he’s just super tall in my head. I'm a tall girl so let me have this.

Lean, but lanky? He's in the in-between stage.

He doesn’t have a lot of muscle, but you can still see muscle? 

He's a little insecure about his body, especially since Mattheo and Lorenzo are more on the buff side.

Would never go to the gym though, he only works out during Quidditch. 

Resting bitch face, but I feel like this is established. 

HOT AS FUCK! HOT! I MEAN HOT AS FUCK! | Shameless Theo girl. SHAMELESS! |

Theodore Nott | Personality

He’s an asshole, but he’s funny. He’s more on the quiet side, but once in a while, he’ll say something witty that’ll make everyone in the room laugh. 

Don’t get into an argument with him. He has a comeback for everything. It’s actually really fucking annoying. 

So blunt. He won’t share his opinion unless asked or if it’s important to him but don’t ask him unless you want the complete and total truth. 

Plays the piano and guitar. 

He loves books. He reads a lot of romance, but he would never share that with anyone. 

He’s very smart. He studies a little here and there, but mostly he just understands everything naturally. He doesn’t even really have to pay attention that much in class. Something else that’s really fucking annoying. 

I feel like he's not amazing at DADA. He's not bad at it, but he gets in his head sometimes and will mess up.

He’s a homebody, but he’ll go out to parties every once in a while. Mainly to hang out with his boys and keep up appearances. 

He’s prideful. He comes from a good family and he likes to make his presence known. 

A chaser in Quidditch and is ALWAYS showing off. It pisses Draco off so much. 

He smokes, but not a ton. I’d say a pack every 2-3 days. 

Smokes weed though. He’s not reckless with it, but if he’s at a party or relaxing without shit to do? He’s lighting up.

Eats SO MUCH. Especially when he's high. He is always in the mood for food.

Theodore Nott | Casenova

He does have a lot of sex, but it’s usually one woman for a couple of weeks. He doesn’t talk to her outside of their meetups and will (and has) embarrassed a couple of women who even thought it was okay to approach him. 

He’s an ASSHOLE!

The reason why these women keep crawling back? Theodore Nott fucks you like he loves you. He’s so attentive.

A MUNCH! Theodore Nott is a munch, through and through. He's so good at it too.

It's because he speaks Italian. Anyone who speaks the tongue of romance also speaks the tongue of absolutely devouring some pussy. I know that's not true for all, but let me DREAM!

He's also skilled with his fingers. | Piano and guitar player. Duh. |

As previously mentioned, this man is prideful. He will spend hours on a woman pulling out every sound, causing every jolt, and basking in the way they scream his name because it feeds his ego.

He's not doing all of that because he cares, he just likes knowing he's good at what he does. And he is good. 

He’s a dom, and he is ROUGH, but he talks them through it the whole time. SO MUCH PRAISE!

This pussy is mine, toria. All fucking mine. There isn't a single man on this Earth who deserves to feel you like this.

I know, baby. Just cum on my cock one more time. That's all I need. Let me feel you just one more time. 

Fuck, bella, you make me feel so good. 

He'll have them thinking their vag was crafted by Aphrodite herself, meanwhile he's pulling these lines on every woman he fucks.

And when he starts speaking Italian? These women EAT IT UP!

I might be a strong woman, but I'd let this man use me too.

They eat him up too. Not just figuratively. It's become a guessing game for the boys trying to figure out who his hickey came from.

Theo isn't one to kiss and tell. He just smirks and lays his head back, exposing his hickey covered neck as his friends keep asking questions they'll never get the answers to.

And after sex? He’s the perfect, sweet lover. So time after time these women come crawling back despite how he treats them in public and he uses them over and over again. 

Then he gets bored, he moves on to the next woman, and the cycle repeats.

Theodore Nott | Friend

Closest to Mattheo and Blaise 

Talks a lot more around his friends. Jokes left and right. 

Always doing some dumb shit. Pranks with Mattheo? His favorite pastime. 

He likes going out with his boys, being reckless, blowing his money, and just being young. 

He loves his friends because they remind him what it’s like to be free. 

He’d never admit it to any of them, but meeting them was one of the best things that ever happened to him. 

His friends (Aka Draco and Lorenzo) are bullies, but he couldn’t be bothered with that. He’s more of a fuck around a find out type of guy. 

Yes, I believe Lorenzo Berkshire is an asshole. Please don’t come for me. Or do.

He takes care of his friends silently. He won’t ask them how their day is, but he’ll show up with their favorite things whenever he notices them feeling bad. 

Very attentive. He is very in tune with the needs of the group.

Theodore Nott | Boyfriend 

UGH, I LOVE THIS PART

He is used to being an asshole toward women so he’s not sure how to navigate his first relationship 

Gift Giving and Acts of Service

He doesn’t know how to properly express his feelings so he just buys you shit and does stuff for you 

PRINCESS TREATMENT 

I’m talking back rubs, foot rubs, | If you want that. I know some people have a feet thing. | putting on your shoes, zipping up your dress, washing you in the shower or bath, doing your hair, carrying you when your feet hurt. Something broke? He’ll fix it. You need something? Baby, I’ve got it. 

He serves you first in the great hall. He puts your food on your plate first and makes sure you have all of your favorites. He likes to give you food. He likes to eat so he likes it when you eat. 

Buys you flowers. He always keeps a flower from the arrangement so he can tell when yours is about to die. 

Dates 2-3 times a month. 

Always buying you gifts. He will FORCE you to take them. Why should I not spoil you? 

He can be a little misogynistic when it comes to taking care of you.

He's more of a feminist. He doesn't give a shit and thinks women can do whatever they want. However, some gender roles are just ingrained in him.

Do not try to pay for dinner. Don't try to pay for anything while you're out with him. Do you want these people to think I can't take care of my girl?

Will not let you carry anything heavy. In private he might let you get away with it if you argue, but not in public. He's a man and it's his job to act like the man. | I don't mind men like this too much. Like I'm an independent woman, but I'm also a damsel in distress. Please do everything for me.

Anything his baby wants his baby gets. He has a big protector/provider mindset. He will do anything for you because you’re precious and you shouldn’t have to do anything yourself.

Teddy, I’ve got it. 

I know, cara mia, but let me do it. 

His hands are always on you. Physical Touch.

When you first start dating it’s subtle. Hand on your back, hands grazing in the hallways. 

He can be a little possessive. Or a lot. 

He used to fuck the girlfriends of the guys he didn’t like so he doesn’t like when guys come around you. He keeps you close as a way to claim you. 

Toxic

When he gets more comfortable around you it’s a hand on your waist, arm around your shoulder, occasionally smacking your ass.

He’s a thigh guy, but he appreciates everything. Boobs, butt, thighs, neck, arm, whatever. The female body is beautiful and he loves every inch. 

Greets you in the hallways by putting his arms around you from behind. 

Neck. Kisses. Always kissing your neck. Licking your neck. Biting your neck. 

Kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever see you. Sometimes it looks like he's swallowing you, your friends think it's kinda gross.

Walks you to each and every class and makes out with you before them 

He just loves to spend time with you. 

Quality Time 

As I mentioned before, he’s a homebody. He loves just staying in with you. After your last class, he always goes to your dorm or you go to his. Study together. Astronomy Tower dates.

He follows you around like a lost puppy. He’s so lover-boy-coded. 

He didn’t pay attention to the girls before you, but he has no problem giving you his full attention whenever and wherever you need it. Call him a simp? He doesn’t care. That’s his girl. 

He can be a little controlling sometimes. He likes to know where you are, and who you’re with. 

He walks you everywhere. You’re meeting up with your friends after he spent two hours railing you against a wall? He’s walking you the whole way, he can't miss a second of you.

And afterward, he always gives you a kiss and a hug goodbye. I’ll miss you, amore. Like you two won’t see each other in a couple of hours. Then he'll keep pulling you closer to him every time you try to break free because he needs just one more kiss. 

He’ll always make you late. Sometimes it's because he is smothering you in kisses. Other times, he spends a good ten minutes holding you and telling you how much he loves you. Words of Affirmation.

Once Theodore Nott is fully and completely comfortable in his love with you he will NOT shut up. He can be so cheesy too, he comes up with the most eye-roll-inducing stuff.

I know I won't make it to heaven, but at least I was given a taste before I go. 

I think someone might have stolen the stars and put them in your eyes.

Then there's the unhinged cheesy ones.

Why should I waste time studying herbs with the power to heal wounds when the only healing power I need is right in between your legs?

Are you the witch who lost her broom? I couldn't find it, but I have something else long and hard that you can ride. I've heard it can last all. night. long.

ON AND ON. HE WON'T STOP.

Then of course you have his more serious declarations of love. Usually when you're sleeping because whenever he tries to say this stuff when you're awake he feels like his heart is about to backflip into his ass. 

When I look at your face, I feel as if the sun finally rises. My world fades from dark to light and in that moment; and only in that moment, I find happiness. I am not a good man, I don't know what I did in life to deserve you but I promise to spend every second making sure I'm worthy of keeping you.

| Alright, that was a little cute. Maybe a little too cheesy, let’s move on. |

Theodore Not | Committed Lover 

Tongue shoved in between your legs 24/7. On his knees in the closet, with you above him sitting on a desk, laying down between your legs, you sitting on his face. Anytime, anywhere he is tasting you like it’s the last thing he ever could do. 

He is so good with his fingers. | Once again guys, he plays piano and guitar. | Fast fingers working you open every chance he gets. 

Seriously every chance he gets. 

He loves fingering you in the middle of class, by the lake, in the hallways, and anywhere in public. | With your consent of course.

I SAID IT ONCE AND ILL SAY IT AGAIN! ROUGH!

He loves doggy. Having you bent over while he smacks your ass raw and dicks you down like a fucking animal.

I mean leg up, holding you back by the ties around your wrist while he thrust his huge ass cock | At least 8 inches and THICK | into your SOAKED and achy cunt because you know he took his TIME getting you ready. 

Literal hours sucking on your clit while he fucked you with his nicely long and thick fingers

Now he’s pounding into you at an unthinkable speed while you’re screaming, tears running down your face, and mind going blank as he fucks you dumb.

He lets you ride him sometimes. He loves seeing you on top, but he still never fully gives you control. He keeps his hands firm on your waist or ass and you can never get away with teasing him for long before he holds you in place and fucks into you like a man possessed.

He likes the soft stuff too. 

Hands holding onto your hips as he grinds his cock into your pussy. 

Head stuffed into your neck as he continuously moans. I could stay here forever. You’re all I need. 

___

A/N: Overall, Theo is a toxic asshole but it’s okay because he magically becomes the perfect gentleman (not really) when we start dating him.

#Theodore nott #Theo nott #Theodore nott x reader #Theodore nott headcanons #Theo nott headcanons #Theo nott x y/n #Slytherin boys #Theodore nott smut #Theo nott smut #slytherin boys smut #Mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #tom riddle #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #slytherin #harry potter #mattheo riddle smut #draco malfoy smut #lorenzo berkshire smut #Blaise zabini smut #tom riddle smut

[circeyoru]

Unwanted Soul _ Part 5 = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

The Request

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 (here)

How you had such a depressing life was beyond Alastor. He didn’t understand it. Can’t comprehend it! But he pushed these questions back to tend to your sadden mood, tucking you in and lulling you to sleep

Alastor sat next to your sleeping form, the room pitch black save for his glowing red eyes that pierced through the darkness. His staff played soft music to calm you down and fill the silence of the room. The only tears you should be shredding are ones of joy and happiness 

The people you’ve mentioned, surely they were in Hell as well. They can’t be in Heaven for causing you such torment. He can’t let you see them, any of them. He needs to get to them first. However, for now, he can’t leave you alone in such a state

His eyes closed as he thought out how he’d torture them. Perhaps skinning them till they beg for mercy and your forgiveness? Pulling out their limbs and draining their blood? Letting the cannibals partake in a feast? No, no, he had to enjoy this. They were your tormentors when you were alive, he’ll show you that he can and will be your protector, even a guarddog if he must

But his heinous thoughts were put to a hold when you shifted in your sleep. He pushed away his thoughts while he watched your serene form rest. He put away his monocle, laying beside you and gently pull you closer to him so he was hugging you to his chest. His eyes drooped close. Perhaps he should let those unfortunate souls enjoy Hell a bit longer. If they crossed his path or yours, their voice will be on his everlasting broadcast

When things got slow for you, you found yourself hanging out with the hotel residents at times. They were an interesting bunch to say the least

Charlie was always happy to see you and would invite you on her little activities and exercises to redeem sinners. Though you’d mostly decline unless it catches your interest in some way. On the rare chance you join, she was very appreciative of your presence and wasn’t shy to thank you for joining in front of everyone. Her cheerful attitude was a bit of a hit and miss for you

There was one exercise that got you sharing something you’ve almost forgot

“Okay! Last two to share! Who’s going first?” Charlie beamed

“I’ll go first, My Darling needs all the time to recall!” Alastor directed the attention to him. “My joy in my hay day is my murders. Oh how I felt the rush when chasing my victims, hunting them like prey in the woods. The warmth of their body fading the moment I repeated stabbed my trusty blade into their weak bodies. The—”

“Okay, okay, you can shut it with the creepy killing. Sheesh.” Vaggie interrupted with a groan. She turned to you who was still in a daze, completely unfazed with what Alastor said. “You ready to go?”

“Huh? Oh, okay.” You snapped out of your daydream, unconsciously, your hand patted on your book that was strapped to your hip. “My joy when I was alive… I barely remember it, but I loved going to the library and read all the books I can.”

“That’s surprisingly cute considering you’re with that freaky smil—” Angel’s mouth was immediately shut with the slap of Alastor’s staff

You continued without flinching, this was all a normal banter between the two already now that you were hanging out with the crew more. “I frequent the library, borrowing and finishing a stack of books everyday. The librarian would recommend me new books or save me my favourite corner. I can even eat and drink in the library just because.”

Charlie’s head tilted, “So you love reading.”

“Not just reading. I love books of all kinds. Sometimes I rad that book just cause I liked the texture or the shape of it. I collect books and keep it like treasures. I hate lending books to other because they don’t care for it like I do.” You fondly smiled at the memory, “Then I got a bunch of notebooks too, because I love the design or the cover.”

Lucifer leaned back into his chair, “No wonder your powers are centered around books.”

“Better call you bookworm now! Hahahaa—” Angel was hit by two cranes, one from Alastor and another from Lucifer. Charlie, Vaggie, and Husk flinched with a face twisted to pain as if they felt that. Niffty was living in the moment, wanting one too

Husk gulped some alcohol, “You better shut that loud mouth of yours if you know what’s good for you.”

Everyone laughed and chuckled, Charlie concluding that it was a good exercise and bonding time since everyone was in attendance. Alastor got up and offered you his hand, bringing you two back to your room. You stayed out of it, being in a daze again

When Alastor asked if you were fine, you smiled and said you were fine, if you needed anything, he would be the first you’d call for. So he left you alone

You didn’t tell them. You were that absorbed into reading that you didn’t realize you were being bullied, you were used. You shared your dream of wanting to be a writer that people would love to read what you wrote and share it with friends, to entertain others. You shared your ideas with your friend but your ideas were stolen from you

The moment you handed in your writing, the publishing company said they had one already and that yours was not up-to-date. They rejected your writing. Days later, you saw the newest novel on sell. The title was so similar to yours that you checked the summary at the back. That was your story idea. But your work was rejected so how was it published?

Your nightmare came to life. A betrayal so painful and chilling. Your friend’s name was on the cover. You remember your hands shaking. It wasn’t rage you felt, it was disbelief and sadness. The trust you gave, the care you gave, and the attention you gave. It was all to stab you in the back

You watched from behind the screens at the achievement and success that should have been yours. All of it, it should have been yours to smile upon. But then you were crying and shutting yourself behind the world of fantasy, an escape from reality

Why? Why? Why!

Closing your eyes for a moment, you locked up those memories. They don’t mean much to you now. Not when you had Alastor with you and an unlikely friendship with Lucifer the King of Hell himself, then there was the silly demons of this hotel. Ironic how you found true friends in demons

That’s why when you saw Mimzy again in the hotel, you were skeptical and burning with rage. She had someone as amazing and caring as Alastor to call as a friend, but she’s abusing it without a care. How she has the guts to come back and ask for Alastor, you have no idea, though you’ve seen her kind when you were alive

“You’re a new soul!” Mimzy’s voice made you want to throw glass or grip something until it broke. “Hey, I’m talking to you!”

“What do you want?” You eyed down at Mimzy with a bored expression

She let out a sound akin to ‘uww’ with a face of disgust. “You’re never gonna get your lucky someone with that attitude.”

Your eye twitched, “I never said I was.”

Mimzy gave you a fake shocked look, “Really? I thought you were going for Alastor!”

You groaned, heading over to the bar to ask Husk for something to drink (not alcohol) because you didn’t want this annoyance to follow you to your room

“Hey,” Mimzy sat next to you without asking, “You know what Alastor’s like when he’s upstairs?”

You ignored her, but your face of silent rage was enough to get her to continue

“You don’t know. He’s a realy lady’s killer! Not literally, but you get what I mean. Girls and ladies throw themselves at him and he doesn’t even bat them an eye. A nice wave and a dashing smile, then he leaves them high and dry! Oh, the broken hearts he had was definitely more than his body count and that’s something!” Mimzy laughed at the end

What’s that got to do with you? You thought to yourself as you aggressive sipped on your drink. Husk eyed you two while cleaning some glass to appear like he was busy. You’ll maybe admit, you were a bit envious of Mimzy that she got to see Alastor when he was alive, you wonder how he looked. Not like you were going to ask

Mimzy endlessly talked bad about Alastor behind his back. What happened to trying to apologise and wanting to make up? No idea, down the drain at this point. As the others around you wonder why you were still humouring the chatty demon, you were wondering the same. Why are you just sitting here and listening to all this?

“You should shut it, can’t you see you’re the only one talking here?” Husk spoke up, indirectly telling Mimzy to just leave you alone

“Aww, and you should do your job, bar cat.” Mimzy teased back. “I’m given this poor soul some attention cause Alastor’s too high of a standard to give some.”

“Ha! Jokes on you. This hot stu— I mean, cutie here’s always got smile’s attention.” Angel inserted himself into the conversation, climbing over the bar to stand next to Husk

You got up, “This is a waste of time.”

Mimzy faked another gasp, “No way. You poor poor thing. You actually fell for him of all people of this hellhole?” She got so close in your face and not to mention your personal space, “I understand why, but! Ha! That’s just bad luck! You’re bound to get your heart broken like all those poor ladies before you.”

Before you said anything, Husk’s wing separated Mimzy from you, “You really need to shut the hell up before you regret it.”

“You shut it fur ball! I ain’t talkin’ to you.” Mimzy snapped at Husk

Deciding that it was not worth your time, you started walking away. This was drama you didn’t want to be involved in and you didn’t want Alastor catching this happening since he sees Mimzy as a friend still

“The hotel won’t allow this.” Charlie tried to establish order and break things off

“Alastor will leave you in the dirt worse than whatever you were before once he’s had his fun with you! You might think you’re on cloud 9 now, but you’re going to be in a world of pain and hurt soon enough.” Mimzy continued, completely ignoring Charlie and Husk’s words

With each step you took, she continued as if singing a song, “Alastor only like things that entertains him. He never commits. He never cares. He doesn’t even have a heart to care! He’s so powerful because he has no room for ridicious things like love. The love he has is only for himself. Alastor is just a selfish heartless motherf—”

“Shut up!” You turned to her, a deep scowl on your face

“This is gonna be good.” Lucifer whispered to the others watching, “But bad for her. Yeah.”

“Shut you annoying f- mouth.” You snapped, unaware that your hair leviated a bit from your rage. “You don’t know how lucky you are to have a friend like Alastor. Alive and dead. But what do you do? You use Alastor’s name just for the fun of it and for your benefit. You just use it! How can you use your friendship with him like this! What’s wrong with your stupid tiny head?! In Hell, you’re supposed to treasure what you have. Not abuse it.”

Mimzy scoffed, “You think you’re so good? So righteous. Well, you would have been up there, now wouldn’t you. Don’t think you’re any better.” She smirked, “In Hell, we use everything and anything to our advantage.” Another gasp came and she covered her mouth, “Oh wait, could it be?” She got close to you, “Haha, you being so defensive and triggered by all this. You really actually did fall for him.”

“I love him.”

“Wait? Couldn’t hear you, sugar—”

“I love Alastor.” You repeated firmly and loudly

“What was that?”

Getting annoyed, you turned to the direction where the question came from. Perhaps it was all this anger in your system that made you slow to realize, “I said,” That you were now face to face with Alastor. “I love you!”

Note: This part's major focus has been mentioned in an ask already. And since it's confirmed that you and Alastor are dating in the latest asks and requests, I'm putting this scene in more detail since asks are trivia for the story

P.S. There's something new planned for future chapters~ Remember that lover and friend mentioned? OCs might be appearing cause I can't do rando short forms. Still thinking... You're thoughts? Or should I just end this series?

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland

@crowleysthings

@donustellaron

@mistpurpl3

@nevermore-ramblings 

@justboredforreal 

@youroneandonlysimp 

@falsemain

@scenteddelusion5

@anni1600

@readergirlstuff

@salutations-demonsanddappers

@mistpurpl3

@haruskrd

@biadoll21

@speedycoffeedelight

@wendds

@paninibit

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

[ktgoodmorning]

The Wall: Pt.3

Mapi Leon X teen!Reader

Inspired by the song "The Wall" by GroupLove

“Just sitting on a wall, always trying to do it all” “Really wanna get away, to where I couldn’t say” “Yeah I’m scared but there’s really no reason to be" "It goes round and round, promise me that we will never let life beat us down.” “And if you wanna cry just hold your head up to the sky”“And if you wanna play, that’s fine with me I love this game”

Part 1 Part 2

Trigger warning for panic attacks :)

Masterlist

When you woke up on Saturday you were slightly confused as to how you had ended up in your bed again. Hopefully you’d be able to keep to yourself and avoid any more of Mapi’s questions. You had plenty to do before the game tomorrow so you had plenty to keep yourself occupied, away from the older woman. 

For the most part you were successful. Maybe Mapi had finally gotten the message that you were fine and didn’t need her help. You spent a good part of the day going through your notes you had made from the night before, making sure to memorize everything you needed to do better. Most of your day was spent in your room alone and most of Mapi’s was spent running errands and spending time with Ingrid. It was perfect. If she was occupied, she couldn’t be trying to wedge her way into your business. 

As you typically did, the three of you had dinner together- something Ingrid had made. It was quieter than usual but missed the tension that had been present in the prior conversations between you. Even Mapi could admit you seemed more normal, more yourself. Maybe you weren’t doing as bad as she thought? It was enough for her to decide not to keep pushing you unless you gave her another reason to. If you stayed like this, maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about. 

~

Sunday was game day. You got up early, starting your day with a short (and much easier than usual) run. It was important to you to always keep the same routine, especially on game days. You’d read it in some book- strong routines made players better. If you followed every part of your morning routine, you’d be in a better headspace for the game later. 

This was just one of many things you learned from your different books and podcasts that you were always using to try to improve your game. A lot of people said it was too much, that you can’t be perfect. Not to you though. It wasn’t about perfection, it was about proving yourself. That you hadn’t gotten lucky. That you really could perform at the highest level. You had to be someone your team could count on. Nothing terrified you more than the idea of letting the team down. So if it took going on a run or keeping a strong routine, of course you’d do that. 

You followed your routine perfectly- your normal route on your run, the same usual pregame meal, your left boot before your right, just like always, your same braided ponytail. As you looked in the mirror, finishing off your braid, you tried to give yourself a small pep talk. You’re fine, pull yourself together. You’re ready for this. It’s just another game, it’s the one thing you know how to do right. 

 Everything about your day was the same as you always, which you could only hope would lead to a successful game. You were glad Mapi had decided to let you be, allowing you to stop focusing on her and start focusing on the game ahead of you. Before every match, she always gave you a big hug, lifting you off the ground in the process. Luckily, she kept this tradition, even if she was maybe still mad at you for yelling at her just a few days earlier. 

Mapi hadn’t said anything about being mad at you but you figured she would be. You had yelled in her face and pushed her away from you, she should be mad at you. The older woman had basically volunteered to be your parent  when you joined the team. She had done so many things for you and you thank her by yelling at her? You sure couldn’t blame her if she was angry, especially when you still hadn’t apologized or spoken with her about it. 

You tried your best to push the thoughts out of your mind as the game got closer. As soon as Mapi gave you your hug, you were able to let everything else go. Pina had joined you for your typical handshake you always shared, and you were back in your game day headspace. You were focused. Ready. Ready to show everyone how hard you had been working. Ready to show everyone you were good enough. Ready to show your team that they could depend on you. 

The game was more difficult than anyone had expected. You were used to being up early on, usually by multiple points. When it hit half time and the game was still tied at zero, everyone was starting to get frustrated. During the break, you re-braided your hair and re-tied your boots, just as you always did. Mapi gave you another one of her hugs in the tunnel along with some words of encouragement. You knew you’d be fine, you always were. 

All of you went into the second half energized from the short break and with a new plan on how to get the ball in the back of the net. You had the motivation to pull out another win, for your team. Unfortunately, motivation doesn’t win games. 

You were subbed off around 70 minutes, the score still tied at zero. Everyone thought that the subs would change things up enough to pull ahead. The Barcelona bench was stacked- the fresh legs and mindset would surely be enough to pull ahead. The whole team was playing hard, changing up tactics when the time called for it. But the other team was doing the same thing, just as well. Nothing motivated your opponents like the idea of beating Barca. Just the mere thought of it gave people enough energy to play harder than they ever had before. This proved to be true when the ninety minutes was finished and a point was yet to be scored by either team. 

After yet another short break and team meeting, extra time started. The game was more physical as both teams started getting more desperate for a point. You hated the feeling of being on the bench, unable to contribute. All you could do was bite at your nails subconsciously, somehow trying to will your teammates to score.

 Everyone was willing to lay it all on the line- your team motivated by the need to win, the need to maintain the Barca reputation, the need to prove yourselves. Your opponents motivated by the idea of beating the legendary Barcelona femini, to break the winning streak, to come out on top. It was exhausting for everyone. Even those on the bench were exhausted. Your nails were almost bleeding as your anxiety grew. The mere idea of continuing to play on was enough to bring any of you to your knees. When extra time ended, still tied, you all knew it was time to go to penalties. 

You knew how to handle penalties. This is where all your extra time on the pitch and work on your mindset paid off. You had taken a million penalties before and were known to be someone people could count on. Even so, it normally never got to you. There were plenty of veteran players that would be counted on first. 

Both teams had taken five shots so far and both teams were still tied. Alexia, Mapi, and Patri had all made it while Mariona and Salma had their shots blocked. Your opponents had the exact same results, meaning you were up next. 

Some of your teammates gave you some high fives and short hugs of encouragement before you made your way up to the ball. You could easily tune out the noise of the crowd and put yourself in exactly the spot you wanted, letting everything else melt away. The weight of the moment didn’t even cross your mind as you knew exactly what you needed to do. Taking a deep breath, you channeled your focus before taking the shot. You watched the ball sail towards the corner of the goal and you watch the goalkeeper dive towards it, just barely grazing the ball with the tip of her gloves. It was just enough to push the ball straight over the top of the crossbar, giving you your first ever missed penalty in your professional career. 

It took everything in you not to drop to the ground. It wasn’t over yet. Your opponent just had to miss it too. Cata could save it. She always did. 

You blinked back tears, just hoping this wouldn’t be it. Praying that the ball wouldn’t hit the back of the net. Alexia reached for your hand, hoping to provide some comfort as you all watched, hoping the game wouldn’t end here. Mapi pulled you into her shoulder, knowing you would need her if this is what ended the game.

They had all been there before. All your teammates knew that if this resulted in a loss, it wasn’t your fault. Everyone had neglected to score during regular play. Everyone was responsible. You win as a team and you lose as a team. Everyone knew that. 

Except as you watched your opponent shoot, you were ready to throw up. Cata couldn’t quite reach the ball, her finger tips not stretching long enough. The ball flew straight passed her outstretched arm and into the net. 

Everything around you went silent, but somehow also mind-numbingly loud as you fell to your knees. All the work you had put in was suddenly for nothing. The rubber band that was wound so tightly within you, holding you together, had just snapped on impact. Tears were pouring from your eyes and you had lost all awareness of your surroundings. You smacked the ground, overwhelmed by the ringing in your ears. Overwhelmed by your anger. By your frustration. Your Failure. Your loneliness. Brokenness. 

You were being suffocated by all your thoughts. You couldn’t make sense of any of them, they were just beating you down, forcing you to remain frozen, sobbing into the grass. 

Nobody had seen you like this before. Mapi had seen you in some pretty low places but still nothing close to this. She and Alexia both dropped to the ground on either side of you, hoping to provide you a small amount of privacy from the crowds and the cameras that would surely be interested in getting your reaction right now. If they could just bring you back to reality, they could at least help you get back to the locker room, away from the prying eyes. 

The two older girls didn’t realize quite how bad it was until they were down on the ground next to you. You were sobbing hard, almost wheezing because of your lack of breath. One hand was gripping the grass harder than they knew possible, the other holding your chest tight, hoping it would somehow help you breathe.

Mapi placed a hand softly on your back, knowing how much you appreciated physical contact. She hoped that it wouldn’t overstimulate you in your current state but it was the only thing she could think of. When you didn’t flinch away from her, she took it as a green light to continue. Alexia gently uncurled your hand from the grass, holding it in her own. It was all they could do to attempt to ground you, but you only responded with more hiccups, completely unaware of their presence. 

“Amiga breathe, it’s okay. You’re okay. We’ve got you.” Mapi pleaded with you, her words doing little to calm you down. When you still didn’t acknowledge them, the two older girls shared a look, knowing they needed to get you off the pitch if they wanted to make any real progress with you. 

Somehow they managed to pull you up, more or less carrying you as you went mostly limp. You weren’t too far from the tunnel to begin with so while it wasn’t easy, it was doable for them to get you there. Your arms were wrapped around their shoulders, holding it there with one of their hands while the other wrapped around your waist. After playing for this long, they were both exhausted, the loss weighing heavily on them too. It took everything in them just to get you to the tunnel, hoping the quiet and privacy would help you calm down. 

Once they got you seated on the ground, the two girls returned to their efforts of bringing you back to them. There were tears still streaming down your face, unaffected by the new environment, while you still struggled to breathe, lost in a spiral of anguish, fully hyperventilating. Mapi decided to take the lead, knowing she knew you better than anyone. 

She sat down directly in front of you, taking both your hands in hers. The one she placed on her chest, right over top her heart, hoping it would help calm your breathing. “(y/n), just try to breathe, match my breaths,” she was taking exaggerated deep breaths, talking softly, hoping to guide you back to her. “You don’t have to worry, we’ve got you, you’re okay. Just think about breathing, don’t think about anything else.” The older woman was close to tears herself- she had never seen you like this before and if her usual tactics didn’t work, she didn’t know how else to help you. 

Alexia sat silently next to you, running her hand softly down your back, giving Mapi looks of encouragement that she was doing the right thing. The older woman gave her a slight nod, pushing her to continue her actions. 

A heavy sigh escaped Mapi before she continued on. She brought one hand to cup your face, trying to force you to make eye contact with her. She didn’t know if it would be too much for you but it was all she could think of to bring you back to her. 

You were slightly grateful for her attempt, hoping that somehow the look in your eyes would communicate how completely terrified you were. It was like your body forgot how to breathe and you didn’t know how to fix it. Your vision was slightly blurry, from tears or from the lack of oxygen, you didn’t know but the eye contact at least helped you see her face, a face of familiarity and comfort. Seeing one of your best friends, someone who you knew would protect you, calmed your nerves slightly. Mapi wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you and you knew it, even if you currently felt like you might die at any moment.

“Amiga, I need you to try to breathe with me. Just see if you can match my breaths, you can do it, I promise.” You nodded frantically, really hoping you could fulfill the older woman’s request. All you could do was let out more gasps, but you really were trying. The lack of improvement almost freaked you out more but Mapi seemed to read the look on your face before you were able to spiral further. “You’re okay, you’re doing great, just keep trying to match me. You’ve got this, you don’t need to think about anything else.” 

You nodded more, and tried to focus further. Your hand that had been on her chest, feeling the rhythm of her breath morphed into you gripped her kit tightly. After a few minutes, your gasps had morphed into sobs, a small improvement from your previous state. As soon as you seemed to be breathing better, Mapi pulled you into her chest, holding you as tightly as she could. It was as if her hug could protect you from everything, from yourself. Tears started to spill from her own eyes, wondering how she could’ve let you get like this in the first place. How could she have let you put so much pressure on yourself that one missed penalty had you on the ground, barely able to breathe. 

Alexia remained next to both of you, running one hand through Mapi’s hair and one down your back, hoping to help you both calm down. After what seemed like an eternity, Mapi pulled away from you slightly, keeping her hands on your shoulders, almost as if she were afraid to let go of you completely. She didn’t even bother wiping away her tears, letting them fall silently. 

“Amiga, it’s okay. Nobody is mad at you for missing that shot.” 

“I let everyone down.” Your words were barely a whisper, all energy completely drained from you. 

“No, no, no, no, no. You didn’t let anyone down. Not me, not Alexia, not anyone. I promise. If we all would’ve played better, we wouldn’t have even gotten to penalties in the first place. It’s not on you, we’ve all been there.” 

“This is all too much, Maps. I can’t do this.” 

“What do you mean, amiga? You don’t have to do anything, you are perfect.”

“No! I can’t do it!” your voice raised as you found your words again, “I’ve tried so hard for so long and I’m just exhausted! There’s not much left of me!” you were practically shouting as you cried. “I go early and I stay late and I take extra runs and I eat healthy and I don’t take cheat days and I don’t complain and I don’t cry and I do all the things in all the fucking books and I still fail. I failed everyone! I’m just so tired of everything and need a break from it all but I can’t get a break!” It felt good to finally get the words off your chest but you still broke down into more tears, falling directly into Mapi’s chest as you did so. 

The older woman held you tight, once again. Rocking you gently, running a hand through your hair as she whispered to you in spanish. Once you had quieted, she spoke again, “Amiga you’re allowed to take a break.”

You pulled away, shaking your head, ready to argue with her before she cut you off, placing her hands on either side of your face, wiping your tears softly with her thumbs. “You’re allowed to cry and to complain. You don’t have to do it all. We are a team for a reason. Nobody has to take on everything. Not you, not me, not even Ale.” You gave Alexia a skeptical look as she was still sitting next to you, just taking in Mapi’s words. She needed to hear the reminders herself at times. 

Mapi used your silence to continue, “None of us have to take on everything, Amiga. Especially not you, you’re still just a kid. You get to cry. You get to struggle at times. You get to be a pain in the ass if you want. Hell, I’m almost ten years older than you and Ale would still say I’m a pain in the ass.” You let out a smile at her attempt at a joke. Alexia let out a giggle, silently agreeing with Mapi’s words. “It’s true though Amiga, nobody expects you to be perfect all the time. You are good enough. You are always good enough. You don’t have to work yourself to death. You don’t have to hold it all in. Everything about you is good enough and it always will be.” The older woman raised her eyebrows at you, checking to see if you believed her yet. 

Normally it would take a lot more to get this point across to you but Mapi spoke with such conviction. She had held your gaze the entire time, never once letting go of you. You gave her a slight nod and pulled her in for yet another hug. It wouldn’t fix everything, you both knew that. But it was a starting point. 

After a minute, your two teammates helped you up, leading you back to the locker room to change before going to the bus. Mapi refused to leave your side and Alexia was there to make sure you both had everything you needed as you got ready to go.

 Mapi couldn’t risk letting you go unprotected. She had to make sure you were okay and she had to make sure nobody could hurt you, even if it was your own thoughts. She sat down with you on the bus and pulled you against her, lulling you to sleep. All she could do was continue to hold you and tell you how good you were. That you were good enough and perfect and her favorite person in the world (but don’t tell Ingrid). Mapi would help you get down off this wall, no matter what it took, and you both knew it.

Masterlist

Feedback and requests are always welcome! :)

#barca femeni #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #fcb femini #woso one shot #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #mapi leon imagine #mapi leon #mapi león #mapi leon x reader #maria leon #maria león #fcb femeni #woso fanfics #wosoreading24/7 #wosoreadingmapi

[drewsbuzzcut]

Hook, Line, And Sinker

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic… read nothing like the rain before this part!

warnings: mentions of modeling and one minor mention of alcohol

“Mat?” You hesitantly ask through your phone.

“Y/n! You called,” mat exclaims.

“How’d you know it’s me?” It’s hard to fight the smile that dies to break out on your face.

“Trust me, your voice would be hard to forget,” mat says cooly.

“Hmm.. smooth,” you tease.

“Only for you,” mat says accompanied with a small, lighthearted laugh.

“Okay, hotshot,” you giggle.

“So you called..”

“Indeed! I want to hang out with you, but I’m seriously busy, so I was thinking I can take you with me to work,” you put out there.

It was a shot in the dark because no matter how good looking mat is or funny, he could be busy or simply not interested anymore.

Although, he’d be crazy to not be interested.

“So is this like a ‘bring your kid to work day’?” Mat asks.

“Hmm… sure if you were 3 and I gave birth to you. However, since you aren’t 3 and I just met you, it’s ‘bring your friend to work day’… if you’re not busy, of course,” you say with sass.

If only he could see your facial expressions. The way you bat your eyes and purse your lips. He’d probably become a puddle.

“You’re in luck! I’m free,” mat responds.

“Perfect. I will text you my address and just text me when you’re in the lobby and I will come get you,” you inform him.

“Lobby? That sounds very professional.”

You can’t help but giggle.

Mat is very charming. Usually you wouldn’t be the one to blush and giggle when it comes to conversations with men about a date, especially over the phone, but you’ve experienced mat’s smile and laugh in person.

Wait… was this even a date? You did say “hang out”

“I’ll see you in 20?”

“Yeah! See you in 20.”

————————————————————————

“Damn. This one hell of a lobby… and building,” mat states.

“Yeah… it’s very fancy. Look! Before we go in and you see what I’m working on, I need to tell you that my job isn’t exactly conventional or private,” you say quickly.

“I model. I have been for about 3 years and my career is starting to take off. I really hope that doesn’t change things for you, or makes you not want to hang out with me today- on set,” you continue.

Mat stays quiet, looking like he’s thinking.

Please don’t be scared. Please don’t be scared.

“You just got a lot more interesting. I’ve never met a model before. Show me your world,” mat says.

You bite your bottom lip to suppress your smile, but come out unsuccessful as your cheeks flush and you show may your pearly teeth. You also receive a big smile back.

You wrap your hand around his bicep and pull him towards the elevators, ready to show him just how much you love your job.

“Ok! So when we get to the 13th floor, I will have to sit in hair and makeup for a little while but you’ll be able to sit with me. Is that ok?”

“Sounds good! Will I also get my makeup and hair done?”

“Unless you are a model as well with at least 2 years of experience and want to join my photo shoot, then sure. Although, I doubt you’re a model,” you retort with a hand on your hip to convey your sass.

“See you like keeping my ego in check, you’re an absolute fireball,” mat says paired with a smirk.

“Like the alcohol?” You question, giving your best insulted attitude even if you’re far from insulted, just amused.

Mat freezes, hoping and praying that he didn’t just insult you.

When you notice his hesitancy to answer your question, you give a sly smile and say, “I guess I’m spicy… and sweet.”

You give a swift wink before you’re exiting the elevator with a mesmerized mat behind you.

————————————————————————

“So Calvin Klein?” Mat asks, referencing the company your photo shoot is for.

“Yeah! It’s one of my biggest bookings of the year and hopefully it just gets better!”

“What’s it like being a model?”

“Workout, beauty sleep, getting to places on time, being simple during the day and myself at night,” you answer.

“What do you mean?”

“If I have a shoot, more than likely I have to have washed hair, clean skin, minimal makeup and nails, and simple clothing. Sure I can still dress in my style but there’s a lot of limits. At night I can cake on makeup if I wanted to and I can just about wear whatever I want. Like I said, my job isn’t exactly conventional,” you explain.

“When I met you at the bar you weren’t wearing anything crazy,” mat points out.

“True. I did have a shoot that day, though and it took up most of my day, so I only packed a change of clothes and I had practically sweat off my makeup through the course of the day.”

“It must be weird or uncomfortable to be unlike yourself for your job.”

“I mean I’m used to it. It’s not something that’s ruining my life. I love my job; it’s made me so confident in myself and it’s also led me to some of the most amazing people,” you declare.

“Like me?” Mat questions with a cheesy grin plastered on his face.

Yes. Like you.

Deep breaths. You just met this guy.

“You wish, hotshot.”

“Anyways. You didn’t tell me what your job is. What does the great mat do?”

You can’t believe that you hadn’t realized that you didn’t know much about mat. In fact you’re just realizing that he’s a stranger who you invited to your place of work. Oops.

“I play hockey,” you hear mat say.

You knew he looked familiar and now it all just clicked.

The islanders.

“Hockey?”

“Yeah professional hockey for the New York islanders,” mat tells you.

“No wonder you have muscles of steel,” you reply, trying to keep it cool.

“Muscles of steel you say?”

God, he is cocky. He makes it sexy.

“Your bicep is like solid rock. Hmm… maybe you stuff rocks up the sleeves of your shirts. That’d make a lot of sense actually.”

“Ouch.”

Mat pulls up the sleeve of his shirt and flexes his bicep, “no rocks.”

“Maybe you should be the one modeling,” you giggle.

“I like your giggle.”

“I like your rocks,” mat rolls his eyes but he can’t deny the blush adorning his cheeks.

————————————————————————

You’ve been getting your photos taken for about an hour and mat was just observing.

He was in awe with you. The way you switched into different poses as if it were so simple. And maybe it was simple for you, but if it were him, he’d probably not be able to make it look so flawless.

It wasn’t just how graceful you looked, but your personality. You treated everyone you worked with respectfully and you were just so kind.

“Ok y/n, awesome work! We have a 30 minute break,” someone called out.

Mat snaps out of his inner thoughts when he sees you walk up to him.

He holds his hand out to give you a high five, which you gladly return.

“I’m so sorry! I forgot to tell you that you’re welcome to anything at the food station. I hope you’re not starving,” you whisper to him.

“No. I’m all good! I had a big breakfast,” he lied. Only because he didn’t want you to feel bad.

“Well if you want a snack or something, you’re more than welcome to grab whatever you’d like,” you tell him.

He nods in appreciation.

You decide to eat a salad that you had brought with you from home.

“So… you’re totally a natural at this modeling gig.”

“Well I have been doing it for 3 years. It’s not that difficult either,” you say.

“You don’t get nervous around all the cameras, or self conscious when you wear different outfits?”

“It’s all about the atmosphere, mat. I have been so fortunate to work with people who only lift me up. Plus I’ve always been sure of myself and not in a conceited way,” you state.

“I wish I could be you when I grow up,” mat jokes.

You laugh and shake your head.

“After my break is done there should only be a couple of photos that need to be taken before I’m done for the day. I was wondering if you’d like to go and get pizza with me. I know this little place like a few blocks down,” you offer.

“I’d really like that,” mat smiles at you and you find yourself ready to get the last of your photo shoot done.

a/n: hope you enjoyed this piece! there will be more to come. also, sorry if it’s kinda slow and boring rn i hope to make it more interesting after a few more pieces!

#mat barzal #mat barzal fic #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders

[commander-rahrah]

So do I! I'm glad Astarion is patient with them although he does tease them XD I love the idea of him embroidering little designs whether it's stars, moon, or something else! It sounds adorable 😊 I would definitely adore letting him have the first pick of new clothes! He deserves it & it would help him separate from his past too 🤍 Thank you for sharing your thoughts because I love it so much :)

Here's my idea that I would love to hear your opinion! Just to let you know this is quite self-indulgent XD What if Astarion had five things about what GN!Reader does that frustrate & confuse him (but he's secretly grateful for it)

1. They always make eye contact with him unless there's something that requires their utmost attention

2. They always remember what he said to them like a book he mentioned briefly that he wants to read but can't find so they worked hard to find it for him or they asked if he doesn't mind continuing what he was talking about earlier before there was an interruption

3. They always ask for his consent even if it's something he suggested because they're familiar with forcing themselves to do something they don't like or they're used to being presented with the illusion of choice

4. They always thank him whether it's something like shooting down an enemy while they're too preoccupied or helping them carry some stuff

5. They won't touch him unless it's for his benefits like quickly removing a leaf from his hair that he keeps missing (that's how they know because they noticed his stiff expression & how tense his body is briefly when they did for the first time) or pulling him to safety

What do you think of it? I'm curious :3

Okay, tumblr definitely lost this one -- so sorry about that anon!

I think that with most of these, the biggest thing would be Astarion realizing that you actually are perceiving him. Seeing through any of his careful masks and facades he puts up. A lot of these things are ideas I've been slowly exploring in my fic series as Tav/Astarion's relationship grows, but I can definitely share some little thoughts about them before I post my bigger thoughts in my fic aha!

I would imagine that Tav/reader continuously making eye contact with him might make him nervous at first - he would try to figure out what you were trying to do, if you were trying to throw him off or something. Once he realized it was just because Tav/reader was genuinely interested in what he was saying, listening and watching… his mind might betray him a bit. Why did you focus on him so much? Did you like what you saw? What if you didn't? I think its something he would have to get use to as he let his guard down more and more, and began to trust Tav/reader

I think he would be floored the first time Tav/reader did something like this. If he made some off the cuff comment about wishing he had better reading material, and then the next night there was a little stack of books sitting in his tent. If you did it again, he would maybe ask in a teasing way, but secretly really really wants to know why you're doing this, "What's the big deal? Trying to bribe me?" and being even more confused when Tav/reader shrugs and tell him that they thought of him when they saw it or remembered him bringing it up. This would make him even more confused and probably tell them as such. "You get more puzzling every day."

The always asking for consent thing is actually a scene I already have written for my series Talking to the Moon - but a bit of a snippet of how it will go is essentially him getting exasperated as Tav once again asks "May I?" and he goes "Do you insist on asking that every time?". "Yes, Astarion. Every time." And even if it was his idea, I think Tav/reader would still ask. He might roll his eyes, "Darling, it was my idea." But you would explain that he can always change his mind, that consent given or promises made before can change, that in the moment it could change. That you never want him to feel like that with you, not ever, not again. So yes, you will ask every. single. time.

Gratitude is not something he is used too. His master made demands, not requests. There were no thank yous expressed to him, not ever. I think he would probably mask this one better then any of the others, flipping his hair and replying in his sassy voice that "you owe me" or "yes, I am quite something, aren't I?" But every thank you you gave him, probably healed something inside him

I think that post-confession, Tav/Reader would only ever touch Astarion without permission if it was a matter of safety, like pushing him out of the way of an arrow or for a spell, etc. And before he could say anything, they would start profusely apologizing, not trying to explain it away but then Astarion would shush them, reassuring them that he was alright, "It's okay, I'm fine. We're okay, I promise."

#commander-rahrah answers #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion/reader #astarion x reader

[anonymeqaupdates]

How do you imagine a Headcanon of Trans!Kalim, who hid this secret from his family, even from Jamil himself (except Cater and Lilia, as both are also trans in the headcanon, and Yuu, because in his world, he had a friend who he was also trans, so he was already suspicious), but what about his secret is revealed during chapter 4?

I don't mind trans HC, be it mtf or ftm, and Kalim who has been shown to repress a lot of things could be an interesting character to see through that lens. It's easier for me to write what I know so unless I'd have help with someone that had personal experience with the subject I wouldn't go there but I like reading fics that touches on the subject.

Now for your idea my real issue would be about the reveal since book 4 doesn't exactly offers a lot of opportunities for it. The one way I can see it happens is if it somehow came out when Jade used Shock the heart on Kalim and that, during the next day the Octo trio and Yuu keep slipping up about it knowing how Kalim identify as. So it'd be an accidental outing and it's not guaranteed Jamil takes it seriously at first. It may need Kalim properly coming out to him as a man or a woman in their talk post OB. That's the nicest way I can see things happens in Book 4.

In a more traumatic fashion, there would be a purposeful outing done by the Octo trio (if we keep the idea that Jade found out first), but that would make them way too scummy and antagonistic so I'd avoid that road. What would be interesting is having Jamil found out by using his UM to dig shameful secret to use as ammo against Kalim. Kalim hypnotize would reveal to Jamil their true gender and Jamil would be too shock to do anything about it. Not knowing how to deal with the info he'd pretend it doesn't exist. However he can't help himself but look up more information about transgender people because how did he miss something so big? During Book 2 and 3 you can have some encounters with him where he's reading up the subject. Yuu would notice but Jamil will always be gone before they can ask him about it. Yuu would wonder if Jamil is an egg but it's not until interacting furthermore with him and Kalim in book 4 that they realize that Kalim is the one who's trans, maybe after the carpet ride? Anyway Jamil who had noticed that Yuu seemed knowledgeable on the subject ends up asking them a few questions about it, without saying anything about Kalim. Yuu could try to advise him, and Jamil might finally finish processing the revelation. Unfortunately, Azul and the Tweels shows up right after that. So Jamil not only doesn't have the time to decide what to do about Kalim's identity but he also doesn't have time to talk to them about it. So when the OB happens, it gets ugly. When Jamil rants in the middle of the transformation he calls Kalim a spoiled little girl or boy depending if they're a trans woman or man. Kalim ends up having a full blown panic attack in the desert. Floyd, Grim and Azul are not very helpful with that. Thankfully Jade and Yuu are here. The rest proceeds as usual until we get to the post fight. Jamil is confronted with the realization that he doesn't hate Kalim, and that he also didn't want to out him like that and that had been a major dick move. They have a lot to talk about. Cater and Lilia when they learned what happened and how Kalim got outed are not happy. They understand that Jamil hadn't meant to do it and that's he's trying not to be an ass about it, but he clearly doesn't know how to be supportive either. (In the sense that besides intimidating any transphobe that might try to pull shit after winter break, he doesn't know what to do). So they give him a little hell but they also give him pointers so that Kalim doesn't have to deal with too much bs at once. Jamil is on thin ice.

The story could end with an heartfelt talk where JamiKali reconcile/confess and a cut to their future together or it could be prolonged to book 5. Vil who is canonically a lot more fluid with gender (see the posts about the pronouns he used in Japanese among other things) could be an interesting add on, but it's mostly the cohabitation that would make the evolution of their relationship more natural and interesting. The VDC would be an occasion for the both of them to regain control of their public image : Jamil wants people to forget about winter break while Kalim could use it to present as the gender they identify as. They'd have the support of the rest of the tribe with Yuu, Vil and Rook offering a bit more wisdom than the rest, and Grim, Ace, Deuce and Epel being a bit clueless but ready to throw hands if needed. Epel might have a lot of question to ask Kalim because he also struggles with how people perceive him and how he wants to be perceived. It might also force Vil to recognize and respect Epel's boundaries more.

So yeah, lots of potential there!

#ask #jamikali #twisted wonderland #trans Kalim

[separatist-apologist]

Buried Alive Inside My Dreams

Summary: An evil enchantress has locked Princess Feyre Archeron in a tower, secluding her from her family and removing her entirely from the outside world. Trapped and alone, Feyre turns her gaze to the stars, dreaming of returning home to her sisters- of finding peace. She's determined to escape before her birthday and the annual starfall that marks the occasion just as soon as she can figure out a way down.

When a thief breaks into her tower, Feyre takes her chances and leaves with him, unaware of who this man is and the price freedom will try and extract from her

Happy @officialfeysandweek2023

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

I am LIMPING over the finish line this week.

Feyre was back in the tower. 

She hadn’t fought it, which was maybe the worst part of being put in. She’d merely taken off the beaded blue dress, leaving it draped over a chair. Amarantha had taken her shoes, her weapons—everything but the clothes on Feyre’s back. And then Feyre had blinked, her world shifting until she was standing in her tower. Amarantha gave her some absurd speech about caring for her and then brushed out Feyre’s hair, stole some of her blood, and left Feyre with a manacle clamped around her ankle. As a safety precaution. She could still move through the tower, but she could go no further than the circular walls. She couldn’t sit on the windowsill, foot dangling over the ledge. Couldn’t jump, ending this all, either. 

Feyre merely sat in silence, staring at the painted walls. She’d been so close to freedom. She’d almost made it. How foolish to pin all her hopes on one man. And yet…and yet Feyre couldn’t find it in herself to regret it. She’d tried. She’d put herself out there, like the women in her books were always doing.

And it wasn’t her fault if Rhys left. The heartbreak was worse than words had ever described, and yet her thudding, dull heart was still beating, right? And she was still alive. Amarantha couldn’t kill her or she would have, and Feyre didn’t think she could keep Feyre manacled to the floor forever, either.

A prince knew about her. He didn’t know what she was exactly, but he knew she was magic, and maybe he’d tell someone. And that someone would come looking, or tell someone else, on and on until the secret was so widespread Amarantha couldn’t keep Feyre hidden. She’d have to unchain her, to move her—and Feyre would be ready.

Feyre wasn’t going to let Rhys rewrite their narrative, though. He’d loved her, cowardly as it had been. She knew he had. And maybe she hadn’t been his true love. Maybe she wasn’t the woman he’d been willing to stake everything on. But he’d loved her all the same and he couldn’t run from that. 

So that night, Feyre pulled out her paints and utilizing the space beside her bed, began sketching out those violet eyes. Maybe one day she’d hate them. But that night, once she’d finished, Feyre rolled to her side and stared at them.

“You left me,” she whispered with a sigh. “And I wouldn’t have left you. Not unless someone forced me.” Feyre felt better having said that, even if he couldn’t hear her. And when she closed her eyes, she could still see him looking at her, kissing her goodbye even if he wouldn’t admit it. Where had he gone, she wondered. Far from Velaris, she bet. Maybe he’d boarded a ship for the continent. Did he miss her?

Feyre liked to believe he did. 

Feyre woke the next morning like she always did. It was shockingly easy to fall back into her old routine. She cleaned and cooked and brushed out her hair. She painted. She stared at Rhys’s eyes and held full conversations with them until she was half-convinced she’d gone insane. Feyre dreamt of them again.

And again.

And again.

By the fifth night, Feyre’s ankle had begun to bleed, dragging around the heavy manacle and she was desperate for a glimpse of the night sky. She wouldn’t quite reach the window. Despair had begun to well within her. No one was coming. No Nesta—that had always been a lie, hadn’t it? But deep down, Feyre had been clinging to some small hope that Rhys would change his mind. That he’d rush to her, having realized leaving her was a mistake and they’d escape together again. 

She sighed, sitting on the floor with her back against the wall nearest the window. From here, she could see a small sliver of the sky, and the twinkling stars overhead. Feyre didn’t have it in her to make a wish this time. Nor did she care when she heard the tell-tale scraping of one the blackguards trying to scare her by dragging his sword against the stone. 

Feyre closed her eyes, drowning the sound out, along with what, frankly, sounded like obscene grunting. There was a way out of this. She wasn’t broken. She could figure it out, could—

“Hello, darling.” Maybe she was broken, if she was hearing Rhysand’s voice so clearly. Feyre peeked open one eye, certain she’d see nothing but open space.

But there he was. Disheveled, and strangely sweaty despite the cool air. His black tunic was the same one he’d been wearing the night he vanished, blotted with dark stains that looked suspiciously like blood. 

“Miss me?” he asked, offering her a lopsided grin that almost hid the apprehension in his eyes.

Feyre was on her feet so fast it made her bones rattle. She didn’t think—just acted. Her frying pan had been taken from her, leaving just the palm of her hand. Feyre slapped it across his cheek so hard Rhys’s neck snapped to the side, eyes wide with surprise or pain or both. 

“Okay,” he breathed, taking a measured step away from her. “I deserved that.”

“You left me!” she whispered, breathing so hard the rest of what she wanted to say got stuck in her throat. Rhys raised his palms in defense.

“Not on purpose. Not because I wanted to. I’ve been trying to get back to you—”

“Is that really true, Prince Rhysand?”

He winced. “I should have told you. Feyre, I—”

“Why are you here?” 

Rhys blinked. “Why—why am I here? Feyre, I’m in love with you. I have been trying to get back to you since I left you.”

“It’s been five days,” she accused as something fragile in her chest began to mend. Don’t shatter it, she begged silently. “You’ve been gone for five days.”

“I was…tied up…for two of them,” he said, his eyes shifting to the manacle around her ankle. Rhys dropped to one knee, a fluid motion that robbed Feyre of the ability to breathe. “My uncle and I had a little unfinished business in the dungeon of my fathers palace. And then I had to tie up some loose ends but Feyre, my only thought, my only goal, was to get back to you as quickly as I could. I came as quickly as I could. I left my throne in the hands of a friend…and for all I know, he might decide to keep it.”

Feyre didn’t know what to say. Rhys’s nimble fingers had pulled a pin from his boot and had begun wiggling it through the lock on her manacle until the iron slipped free. His fingers wrapped around the slim appendage, gently caressing her skin. 

Rhys glanced up at her, like he was waiting for her to ask some obvious question. “I thought you left me,” was all Feyre could think to say.

A smile split his face. “Where would I go? I can’t think of one place that your presence couldn’t improve. I should have told you who I was when we met. And maybe you could have told me who you truly were, too, princess.”

So he knew, then. Feyre wondered if Amarantha had rubbed it in his face the way she’d done to Feyre. Rhys didn’t seem too upset, nor had he risen from his place on the floor. She kept waiting for him to stand. 

“Besides,” he added with a lopsided grin, one side of his face bright red from where she’d slapped him. “You left before I could give you this.”

“Rhys,” she whispered as he pulled that ring from his pocket. 

“It’s always been yours,” he said lightly, catching her hand before she could snatch it away. Sliding it over her finger, Rhys continued, “Sorry it took me so long to realize it.”

“Rhys—”

“I have an army,” he said, his voice pitched softer. There was a desperation edging his words, eyes a little dimmer than before. He was clutching her hand like it was a lifeline. “And gold. I was going to offer it to you before Avalon. I was going to ask…I was going to ask you to be my wife.”

“You didn’t know I was a princess—”

“I never cared about that,” he swore, swallowing hard. “I still don’t. I just…I’m begging, Feyre. Marry me. Come home with me, and I’ll lay the world at your feet.”

“What about your dreams?” she asked him, certain she was going to tell him yes no matter what he said. “Your careful plans?”

“You are my new dream,” he murmured, brushing a kiss over her knuckles.  “Say yes.”

Feyre pulled him to his feet, rising up on her tiptoes to kiss him as her answer. She didn’t think she could get the words out anyway. Rhys groaned, crushing her against his warm, potentially bloodstained body. 

Some part of her still thought it was a dream. “You love me?” she asked him when they broke apart, searching his face for the lie. Rhys nodded, solemn.

“Then take me home, Rhys,” she said, her voice cracking on the word home. She’d never had one of those. Not in her entire life—Ellesmere had never truly been a home, and the tower had been a prison. But Rhys…Rhys was offering her something she’d only ever dreamt of. Freedom, a place her sisters could live in exile if they wanted. A kingdom, an army, a throne…and all of it was home. 

Rhys grinned, eyes suspiciously glassy. “This…way…” his voice trailed off, one hand shoving her behind him. Feyre saw her, standing like a shadow in front of the window, watching the pair of them with those dark, emotionless eyes. Her skin was practically translucent, her red hair dripping like blood around her face.

“Oh, Rhysand,” Amarantha whispered, revealing sharp fangs and a mirthless smile. “When will you learn?”

“Oh, no,” Feyre whispered, clutching his arm. There was no way out—and no way Amarantha was going to let her leave. She was only half corporeal, a faded image against the air. She wasn’t there, Feyre realized. She was merely projecting herself somehow, was going to kill him while giving neither of them a chance to fight back.

Rhys still withdrew the dagger hidden in his sleeve. “You don’t get to touch her,” he said, his voice filled with menace. 

Amarantha’s smile filled Feyre with dread. “Is that so?”

She struck him before either Feyre or Rhys could blink. Sharp as a knife, the air cut through Rhys’s clothes, slamming him to the floor as blood bloomed around him. Amarantha laughed, ignoring how Feyre screamed. She could fix this—she could open up her skin, could force him to drink as she wrapped her hair around him. 

“Don’t touch him!” Amarantha snapped. Rhys looked up at Feyre, wild eyed and ashen. Feyre had one hand to his chest, his tunic wet and dark.

“No,” Rhys breathed. Amarantha reached for Feyre, perhaps to drag her back so she could watch him die. Sitting up, his dagger still in hand, Rhys fisted Feyres hair and with one perfect slice of his blade, cut the strands at her shoulder. 

Amarantha screamed. Screamed like she was in pain, her expression shifting into something inhuman. Something monstrous, with fangs and dead, onyx eyes that belonged to a monster and not a woman. The knife clattered from Rhys’s hand and he slumped back, his breathing shallow and labored. 

Feyre looked again at Amarantha, but she’d vanished with a sickening pop, gone back to wherever she’d been when she interrupted. Somehow, and Feyre didn’t understand it entirely, Rhys cutting her hair had wounded Amarantha. Maybe significantly enough that she could be killed. And if Feyre had been smart, she might have left Rhys to die on the floor of her tower and tracked her down to do exactly that.

“Rhys,” Feyre said instead, palm pressing against that gaping wound. “Rhys, why would you—”

“She can’t hurt you again,” he panted, eyes wild. “You’re safe, now. Go to Velaris. Tell…tell Azriel and Cassian we were married. Show them the ring. It’s yours—all of it is yours.”

“Rhys, I don’t want it. Rhys, look at me! Come back!” Feyre wept, grabbing that knife to cut across her palm. “Don’t leave me. Please.”

With a shaking hand, Rhys cupped her cheek. “You were my new dream,” he said, exhaling softly. Slowly. 

“No!” she cried as dark lashes fluttered shut. A tear slid down the bridge of her nose, splashing against his lips. Feyre didn’t want his kingdom or his crown—she only wanted him. Pressing her face against his now still chest, Feyre let herself sob into his clothes.

“You were my dream, too, Rhys,” she managed, clutching at his clothes. Salt water mingled with the blood, turning the tips of her now short hair crimson. “Come back to me. Please. Please come back.”

Feyre twisted, looking at the night sky and the stars twinkling overhead. Could they hear her? Just this once, she thought to herself, looking at a trio of stars shining brighter than all the rest. “Bring him back. Please,” she pleaded. “I’ll do anything.”

There was so much nothing for so long the silence nearly killed her. Feyre poured all her hope into that one wish, desperate for just once, the world to acknowledge her. Haven’t I given enough, she wanted to scream? Don’t you owe me something? 

Just when she’d been about to give up entirely, to walk away, hunt down Amarantha, and make her truly suffer for everything Feyre had been through, she felt a thud against her palm. Feyre looked down, holding her breath.

Just in time for Rhys to open his eyes.

And smile.

RHYSAND:

He could have been drowning in that ageless dark for centuries. Time felt endless, broken only by the tiniest sliver of starlight. Rhys clawed his way toward it, desperate. Feyre, it’s Feyre. He just had to get back to her, even if that meant defying death itself.

Though in the end, it was Feyre would managed to thwart that old, ancient god. Rhys didn’t know how—only that when he opened his eyes again, she was looking down at him with a bloodied cheek and glassy eyes. 

“There you are,” he managed, his voice raw as though he’d been screaming. “I’ve been looking for you.” Feyre’s laugh turned to a sob quicker than he would have liked. Sitting up, and ignoring the pain radiating in his chest, Rhys wrapped an arm around her and pressed his lips to hers. She was crying, but Rhys was laughing. What else could he do? They couldn’t both cry, and it seemed like Feyre needed to do more of it than he did. 

So Rhys kissed her until there were no more tears, until she was holding his face, body wedged between his legs. He wanted to ask her how she’d managed to do it without her hair and decided he didn’t care. They were together, and that was what mattered to Rhys. 

Though, they were also in the tower Amarantha had just killed him in, and maybe they ought to leave, at least. Retreat for Velaris where it was safe, if nothing else. Rhys pulled himself off her, too sore to do what his cock was demanding of him.

“Darling,” he murmured, stroking tear stained cheeks. “We should go.”

“Yeah,” Feyre agreed, eyes filling with tears again. While Rhys struggled to his feet, Feyre rushed around the tower quickly, gathering a few items she thought they might need which included her frying pan. Rhys merely took his dagger, sliding it back into the sleeve of his ruined tunic. 

They paused at the loose stone he’d pried from the floor, both turning wordlessly to look at the golden brown hair pooled on the floor. Rhys didn’t care for it—as far as he was concerned, that hair might have been the manacle around her ankle, keeping her shackled. 

Feyre reached toward her scalp, raking her fingers through the short strands. “I never realized how heavy it was,” she finally said.

And that was it. She climbed down the musty, dark stairs and Rhys went after her. 

This time, they had a horse. Rhys put Feyre in the saddle, climbed up behind her, and drove that animal as hard as he could without killing it. For two days, he and Feyre stayed out of sight, moving through the woods and the mountains, far from villages and prying eyes. Wherever Amarantha had retreated to, whatever fate had befallen her wasn’t likely to be permanent. She’d come back with a vengeance, and Rhys wanted her to hesitate. He wanted her to feel a little fear as whatever plan she’d clearly meticulously put together began unraveling. 

They did very little talking over those two days. It was as if Feyre couldn’t bring herself to fully acknowledge they were together until he whispered the words, “Welcome to Velaris.”

She cried again, loud, ugly sobs into his disgusting tunic. Rhys held her, twisted in the saddle, her cheek pressed to his chest. 

“You’re safe. We’re home,” he said, repeating the words over and over until the city came into view. The Illryians were there, watching with silent eyes as Rhys strode into his city. He didn’t want to know how many of his uncles' men had died in the week of his absence. Nor did he want to know what it had taken to hold the city without a true king sitting on the throne. 

He had her, now. And they were safe. That was all that had ever mattered to Rhys.

And all that ever would. 

It took another week before Feyre slept through the night unbroken. Another week before he could lift the curfew on the city and welcome back the rest of his court. And a week after that to make her his wife. Her father protested, sending messengers with decrees that Feyre was to return home unharmed and unmarried. 

Rhys married her anyway. He married her under a full sky of stars, married her with a laugh, smiling so hard it made his jaw hurt.

“I love you,” he’d said, holding her face in his hands so she had to look at him. “I love you.” 

“Did you know me on sight?” she’d asked in that soft, mocking way of hers. 

“Yes,” he replied, lips brushing her own. “How else did I end up beneath your frying pan?”

She’d smiled, then. A real smile, broad and unrestrained and so filled with light it made Rhys ache. All he wanted was to see that smile—every day, all day. His thief became his wife, became his Queen. But Feyre had always been his salvation, even if he’d been too stupid to recognize it.

And she wasn’t alone. Six months in Velaris brought word of her elder sister in Avalon, married to one of the Vanserra’s. Rhys knew better than to ask if she’d gone running for help, too. By all accounts—and there were so many letters—it had been a love match borne of another enchanted trick. 

And the eldest, with some kind of horrible, death defying magic, had cheated the last spell Amarantha had ever cast upon the Archeron sisters. Rather than losing her life, she’d merely fallen into an enchanted sleep. Feyre went to the Vanserra’s, pleading for a prince to wake her so they might finally kill the witch once and for all.

And before they left, Rhys pulled Cassian aside. “Spells are precise magic, brother,” he murmured. “True loves kiss—”

“A prince,” Cassian said flatly. “I am neither.”

“A bastard prince,” Rhys reminded him. “Just try. Fuck the Vanserras.”

That made Cassian smile, if only a little. “We’ll see.”

Cassian left, marching a unit of men toward the mountains where the sleeping Archeron lay, hidden behind a wall of thorns and, if the rumors were to be believed, a terrible dragon. He’d convinced Feyre to remain behind, well aware she, too, wanted to lead that charge. Rhys was far too selfish to hand her over—to risk her to Amarantha’s wrath. If Nesta Archeron needed saving, he’d let Cassian handle that. 

“Do you think it’ll be enough?” Feyre asked him, curled in a chair in her art studio. Rhys reclined in the doorframe, watching as he so often did. “Waking Nesta, an Illyrian army…the Vanserras?”

“It’s the most we’ll ever get,” Rhys replied, not bothering to ask how Feyre had known he was there. She was painting herself for once, smiling brightly against a backdrop of falling stars. Rhys intended to ask her for it when she finished. He wanted to hang it in his study, so she could watch him even when she wasn’t around.

“I suppose it’s a start,” Feyre murmured, twisting to look over at him. Tendrils of that shoulder length, golden brown hair fell in pretty waves around her face. Rhys smiled, delighted when she returned it, beckoning for him to join her. 

“You are so bright,” he told her, pulling her up so they could sit together in that small chair, a tangled mass of limbs. Feyre brushed her mouth over his jaw. “My life was perpetual night before you.”

“You’re sentimental for a thief,” she teased, running her finger tip along the bridge of his nose. 

“How about for a man in love?” he replied, mouth ghosting her own.

“Especially so,” she replied.

Rhys only smiled.

There were worse fates, after all. 

#feysand #i am FREE #and so sleepy

[foxesandtarot]

Been feeling stuck?

A while back, I did this spread for myself. It stayed in my mind for a bit, so I decided to pull some cards for you guys too! Simply pick a pile you feel drawn to, and hit 'keep reading' for the reveal and interpretations.

As always, take what resonates and leave the rest. If this spread has helped you, feel free to share it with your friends. :) I am also open to doing personalised readings! (If you’re looking for a specific spread that’s not listed, you can drop me a message and we can work something out!)

Pile 1

You're currently stuck at a crossroad, unsure of whether to follow your mind or heart — you've worked out all the logical steps but it may infringe on some of the emotional parts of you. On one hand, you may be ready to sacrifice some things; on the other, you want to find a compromise or a different way to tackle it. Despite your efforts to find a balance in which neither sides lose anything, it's been to no avail. And because you've been at this for so long, you might feel like you have to make a decision soon.

Unless it's a time-sensitive issue, you shouldn't continue putting more stress on yourself regarding this decision. Set aside time to ruminate on this, where you have time to breathe, relax and consider everything again with a clear and unconditioned mind. Let everything flow, even the seemingly "dumb" ones. Tune in to your intuition and dreams, pay attention to what's between the lines and outside the box. With a much more open mind (much alike a blank sheet of paper), you may come across certain ideas that could be worth exploring.

Pile 2

You've been trying hard, hoping to see some change, but it kind of feels like you're on a hamster wheel lately, right? The sights are the same and you're still in the same spot. Well, have you been neglecting the inner parts of you while working hard on the grind? Toiling away at the expense of your emotional and mental health won't take you far. Or maybe you're being too hard on yourself, and letting all the "what-if"s and negative thoughts run a little too free. It could also be that you're being too indulgent in certain things.

What you need to do is write down your goals clearly, and break them down into actionable, bite-sized steps. It doesn't matter how bite-sized it's broken down into: the objective is to ensure you can make it from here to the next step. Don't just write "I want to write a book -> I will write 1 hour a day." That can be broken down further into "I will write 1 paragraph a day" or "I will write X sentences a day". The distance you make with the small steps a day will become one or two big steps at the end of 30 days. When you are able to take act

Pile 3

You've really been going through it and you're worn out to the bone, be it physically, mentally or emotionally. You don't know who you can reach out to, probably because you're still in the eye of the storm, or processing the aftermath of the fallout. No matter which position you’re in, I would advise against resisting the changes that are unfolding, as well as embracing them (gradually over time). There's a reason why this upheaval is happening, even if you don’t see it yet.

It's time to rethink why these old ways just aren't working out for you anymore (they could even be the cause of the upheaval), and find new strategies to tackle problems moving forward. This storm shall pass too, and it will only do you good if you can see and extract the lessons, so that you won't be in a situation like this again. This isn't to say you'll never face such storms anymore, rather, the next time something similar happens, you'll have the experience, knowledge and skills to navigate better through it, or even before it (developing foresight to avoid such situations).

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Which pile did you pick, and did it resonate with you? Let me know!

Don’t forget to leave me a like on this post if you found this helpful, or even share it with your friends. If you with to leave a tip, you may do so on my Ko-fi page（っ＾▿＾）

#tarot #tarotblr #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarot pick a pile #pick a pile tarot #pick a pile reading #monsoon tarot deck #foxesandtarot

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

My Favorites

I have a soft spot for other peoples’ OCs, so why not make a list of my favorite stories and books <3 In no specific order. Please note: Some of those are heavy on the whump.

Unless noted otherwise, all stories are in a fantasy/historical setting.

I’ll try to limit it to one series per blog, but I might link others I have read without description, and I encourage you to check out the other works of those people.

Personal Highlights

Absolute gold star stories with a special place in my heart 💜 Finished, or very close to finished.

Unbidden by alittlewhump

Set in the world of Diablo 2, but doesn’t require knowledge of the game. Sweet necromancer gets pulled into saving the world, and has a horrible time doing so.

Hidden Depths by starlit-hopes-and-dreams

Resh sold himself into indentured servitude to save his sick sister. Unfortunately, the guy who now owns him is a sadistic asshole, and Resh in big, big trouble. (This one was finished, but now a second part started :D)

Never by whumpflash

A different take on Captain Hook, how he lost his hand, and his history with Peter. Very gory, very horrible and so very fun. Other works: Penumbra, Sun and Glass

The Prince of Thieves by little-peril-stories

In this Robin Hood-inspired story, Bree is arrested and thrown in prison with Will, a ringleader of the gang of thieves she’s part of. Other works: The Curiosity Collector

Untitled Story by verkja

A sorcerer who isn't half as evil as he thinks he is, a mercenary with a troubling dream, and the looming end of the world. (This one's not finished, but it will be.)

Sin of Purity, Purity of Sin by pleasestaywithmedarling

Kiri learned from a young age to keep her head down; Anden knows the key to his survival is to never back down from a fight. But when they are chosen to serve as the next year's sacrifice in the yearly Midsummer's Day ritual, they'll need to work together if they want to escape their fate. (In progress.)

Finished Stories

The Monster of Lindborough by secretwhumplair

Werewolf boy gets caught and tortured to drive out the beast. Then he’s left in the care of the smith, who slowly starts to see that there’s true monsters among them, and it’s not the kid crying in his house. Other works: Check their pinned post

My Little Mermaid by thoughtsonhurtandcomfort

Brave little mermaid gets stranded and is found by a human, who turns out to be a true nightmare. Other works: Check their pinned post

Smoke, Salt, and Asbestos by quietly-by-myself

Life for Keeper Silvanus was never normal. However, abnormal quickly changed to strange when a fae creature dropped dead at the doorstep of his ward, the Hall of Alchemists. Other works: Check their post here

Consequence of Action by squishablesunbeam

After a failed mutiny, Quinn is kept as a slave for the enjoyment of the crew, until one of them shows him some pity. Unfortunately, the captain notices. Notes: Sci-fi setting, so very nsfw.

Unburied by whump-me

In trying to prove what she has discovered—a weapon that can level a city, as long as it is fueled with a human body and soul—Kira just might become this fuel herself. Notes: Contains major character death. Other works: Martyr

Bridge from Ashes by winterandwords

Corruption and cruelty pulse through the veins of an opulent metropolis, where every side is the wrong side and progress is fuelled by exploitation. Notes: Cyberpunk setting. Other works: November Breaks

Actual Books by Tumblr Authors

I don't have half as much time to read as I'd like, so I recommend also looking at my #other people's books tag. Links go to goodreads for now.

Once Stolen by brynwrites / D.N. Bryn

When Cacao's attempt to rob the jungle’s most notorious energy cartel fails stunningly, a chaotic escape leaves him chained to a self-proclaimed hero with a hidden stash of power stones so large, Cacao would never need to steal again. He’s determined to get his hands on it, even if it means guiding her home straight through the mist-laden and monster-filled swamp that exiled him. Other works: Our Bloody Pearl, Odder Still

The Sorceress and the Incubus by menagerie-of-monsters / Mallory Dunlin

After ten lonely years of catching the meteors raining from the broken sky, all Rain wanted was a little help. Maybe some companionship. Then she gave my summoning a little too much power… and now she's bonded soul-to-soul with an incubus. Other works: The Changeling and the Dragon

Over the Dragon's Gate by serotoninshift / Juliana Jones & Riley Sanderson

Treya has everything he needs in his food, shelter, and other fish to swim with. It’s painful to wonder if he had another life once, so he ignores the fragments of disturbing dreams that plague him.

Winter's Orbit by avoliot / Everina Maxwell

Prince Kiem, the Emperor’s least favourite grandchild, never expected to be married off to a stranger with a day’s notice. But his cousin is dead, leaving a bereaved partner, and the Empire must renew its bonds with its newest vassal planet or risk an all-out war. Notes: Sci-fi setting.

Ongoing Stories

Not all of those get regular updates, and some aren't posted in chronological order.

Captured by redwingedwhump

This is a story about a relatively wicked warlock who is taken prisoner by his worst enemies- men claiming holiness, out to save his soul… Other works: Check their pinned post

Unsung Heroes by dont-touch-my-soup

Set in a war-torn fantasy world. Kell gets arrested after trying to protect his twin sister. He finds himself in a theatre where he is forced to sing and entertain his enemies.

Dark Water by cryptidwritings

Moss Harper boards a boat in search of a better life, but instead finds himself a captive in the middle of the ocean.

Perfect Sorrows by whumping-in-the-wings

A Victorian/Gothic whump story, set in Paris with a slightly unconventional take on selkie-ish magical creatures. Other works: Traces

Immortality Blows by brutal-nemesis

One sassy immortal with an excellent talent to find himself in horrible situations. Pirate whump? Lab whump? Burned alive? Cave whump? Take your pick.

Flicker in the Dark by just-a-silly-little-whumper

Sorcerers Elze’ith and Altair are fleeing pursuit by bounty hunters when they end up trapped in a valley ruled over by a cruel vampire. Notes: Contains nsfw chapters.

Duochromatic by siren-of-agony

Tiefling twins living under the sadistic hand of the Circus Director, who loves to collect oddities and make them his.

Kane & Jim by whumpsday

Years ago, Jim was kept as a living bloodbag for a vampire he despises. When he gets the chance for revenge, he jumps on it - only to find a man broken by years of torture.

Whumping the Whumpers by painsandconfusion

The story of how a chronic whumpee teams up with his past whumper to get revenge on the whumpers who have whumped him before. Notes: Contemporary setting. Other works: Check their pinned post

Freelancers by whumpacabra

David’s had a rough go at it - drugs, thugs, you name it, he’s survived it. But no matter how far past it he feels, it’s always there. Waiting for the right moment to pull the rug out from under his feet. Notes: Contemporary setting.

Unfinished Stories

I cannot guarantee that my categories here are correct, but below are stories that are either abandoned, or where the last update has been more than a year ago.

Blackmuir Reign by deluxewhump

When Therrin Blackmuir takes advantage of a volatile political situation to reclaim the throne, he finds an unexpected prisoner in the deepest cell of the dungeons, someone who does not expect merciful treatment from him.

Nik by just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

Ever the one to sacrifice himself, Nik makes a deal with a sorcerer to keep his people safe. Little does he know that his cooperation was never required; just the magic that runs through his veins. 

Gozukk and Anna by whimperwoods

Chief Gozukk of the orcs allows passage through his lands to a human caravan and receives, in exchange, a half-elf girl they’ve been abusing.

Also I throw a lot of masterlists I come across that I might want to check out at some point on my sideblog @burnt-salad-bar​

(Not all of them, because that would require using more than a singular brain cell and remembering.)

#welp better prepare myself for the new-posteditor-calypse #and while I am on it trying a new format #the old one was just too stuffed #*mumbles* I am allowed to have favorites I am allowed to have favorites I am #favs

[agardenandlibrary]

The Dragon Reborn: chapters 32-36

There are 56 chapters. At my approximate rate of one chapter per business day, I can expect to finish this around October 21st, two months after I started it. (It'll probably take longer, unless I magically gain some free time soon.) I have, admittedly, been reading other books in the middle of this one, something I don't normally do but is helping me! Now, uh, where were we --

Escape from Tar Valon 2: Electric Boogaloo

Mat and Thom are on a boat! The boat captain hates everyone who isn't Tairen, basically, and especially hates the Aes Sedai. He keeps bringing up "High Lord Samon" -- which is news to Thom, who knows the names and faces of all the rulers in Randland.

There's another assassination attempt on Mat but he and Thom fight the brigands off.

Mat stumbled down the ladder, stepped over the two bodies in the passage, and slammed the door of the captain's cabin behind him. He made it halfway to the bed before the shaking hit him, and then all he could do was sink down on his knees. Light, what game am I playing in? I have to know the game if I'm going to win. Light, what game?

"What game" indeed.

Rand is having his mental breakdown in the woods.

They say I'm the Dragon Reborn, too. They all say it. The living say it, and the dead. That doesn't make it true. I had to let them proclaim me. Duty. I had no choice, but that does not make it true.

Take your time, sweetheart.

okay, now we're back with Perrin and Moiraine, following Rand, also known as:

The Great Hunt 2: This Time It's Personal

Perrin is doing his best not to sleep. Do not follow his or Rand's example. Sleep deprivation ain't a good look. I really like how important dreams are. I also really like that we have (currently) 3 separate connections to the Dreaming: Rand's whatever, Egwene's Dreamwalker shenanigans, and Perrin's wolfbrother stuff.

Anyway, they encounter a small town where there's an Aielman in a cage and a young woman who stares at Perrin.

"Ah." Furlan [the innkeeper] washed his hands in one direction, then rubbed them in the other. "Ah. Forgive me, Master Andra, but Lady Alys is a fierce-sounding woman."

"Only with those who displease her," Lan said blandly. "Her bite is far worse than her bark."

"Ah. Ah. Ah. Your rooms are this way."

[Perrin] did not think anyone needed to look after Nynaeve; around Nynaeve, to his mind, other people needed someone to look after them.

I believe it.

There's some dude telling stories in the tavern about defeating 20 Aiel, which was obviously a big fat lie lol. Perrin decides to free the Aielman and together they kill a bunch of Whitecloaks.

[Perrin] hated the gaping wounds the axe made, hated the way it chopped through mail to rend flesh beneath, split helmet and skull with almost equal ease. He hated it all. But he did not want to die.

Sweetie, maybe you need to switch to a quarterstaff. Axe ain't your only option here.

Nonetheless, this is something that's missing in a lot of newer fantasy books. There's so little regret for taking a life. Death is shrugged off, "oh, I had to kill them to save myself". It feels more natural to be struggling with this than to simply accept it.

They have to leave town in a hurry thanks to Perrin's choices here. On a boat* again, and someone pulls a Mat and leaps from the dock to the deck to follow them.

It's the girl who was staring at Perrin, she's Hunting the Horn of Valere, and she's going to start calling herself Faile.

That night Perrin finally sleeps. And he dreams of Hopper, our beloved wolf, who takes him to see a meeting between Selene and Ba'alzamon.

Hey, is Ba'alzamon the dark one? Because I thought he was, but right now I'm kinda thinking he's actually Ishamael, due to his excessive lace collar and cuffs.

*these people sure use boats a lot!

notable quotables:

The Pattern shaped itself around Rand, and chance ran wild.

"The Creator is good, Perrin. The Father of Lies is evil. The Pattern of Age, the Age Lace itself, is neither. The Pattern is what is. The Wheel of Time weaves all lives into the Pattern, all actions. A pattern that is all one color is no pattern. For the Pattern of an Age, good and ill are the warp and the woof."

#cara reads wot #cara reads the dragon reborn #the dragon reborn #wheel of time

[lesfeldickbiblestudy]

  Through the Bible with Les Feldick LESSON 2 * PART 3 * BOOK 68 BUT WHEN -THE FULLNESS OF THE TIME – PART 3 Galatians 4:4; Galatians 4:9; Ephesians 2:4 We’ll pick right up where we left off.  I don’t feel that I quite did justice to the end of verse 9, in Galatians 4.  So, you can be turning back to it if you’ve lost it here in the studio. For those of you out there in television, again, we’d like to invite you to open your Book and take out your pen and pad and study with us.  My whole premise is, “What does the Book say? And what doesn’t it say?”  And if it doesn’t say it, don’t try to push it in there, because you get in trouble when you do.  Here we go, with a continuation of our last program in Galatians 4. We were in verse 9. Galatians 4:9a “But now, after that ye have known God,…” After these pagans had come out of their idolatry, it becomes not only known of God, but they knew God themselves.  They come into a relationship through their salvation. But, as we were explaining in the last program, they were being besieged by Judaizers from the Jerusalem church who were still under the Law, primarily.  The Temple was still operating.  I think a lot of people forget that.  I think they forget that when they read these things in Paul’s letters, especially. They forget that the Temple is still going.  My goodness, the Jews are having animal sacrifices every day.  The mainstream orthodox Jew is still completely under the Law - the dietary laws and everything.  So, the Jerusalem church is still those kinds of Jews. They had simply embraced Jesus of Nazareth as the promised Messiah.  And as such they became believers in that or the believing of the Gospel of the Kingdom. So, they were separated from the mainstream of Israel.  But they were still law keeping Jews. My, I can prove that so easily.  Let me show you a verse. I always do everything with Scripture.  Go back to Acts.  I think it is chapter 22 verse 12.  Now, this was a believing Jew up in Damascus, but he was still on the same page with these Jerusalem believers. This says it all. Acts chapter 22:12a “And one Ananias, a devout man, according to the law,…”   But what was he?  He was a believer that Jesus was the Christ.  That’s why he was so fearsome of Paul coming to Damascus.  He was one of those that Paul was trying – or Saul – was trying to stamp out of Israel.  But what was he?  “Devout according to the law.”   Another good one to prove that is Acts 21:20.  Let’s look at it. Acts 21:20 “And when they (believing Jews) heard it, they glorified the Lord, and said unto him, (Paul) Thou seest, brother, how many thousands of Jews there are which believe; and they are all zealous of the law:” Now, this is what we have to understand.  And as soon as Paul’s Gospel becomes evident to the Gentiles, it’s “not under law.” We’re going to look at that right now. In fact, coming back from Acts, stop in Romans chapter 6.  I just have to repeat it and repeat it and repeat it, because the vast majority of Christendom is still just about in the same situation, as these Gentiles were always hearing, “You can’t be saved by just Paul’s Gospel, you also have to be baptized.”  Others say that you’ve got to join a church.  A lot of them now are saying that you can’t be saved unless you speak in tongues.  You can’t be saved unless you give tithes and offerings.  That’s all extraneous.  Just like the Judaizers are pulling at Paul and his Gentile believers, but beloved, we’re not under any of that. Romans chapter 6 verse 14.  This is one of the first verses that you have to show to people. Romans 6:14 “For sin (Or the old Adam as he’s dealing with it in this chapter.) shall not have dominion over you: (Why?) for you’re not under the law, (You’re not under demands for Temple worship and sacrifices.  You’re not under any demands to do something.) but under grace.”  And grace is just what it says – the complete favor of God to us who don’t merit a thing.   I always like to use Saul’s conversion as the perfect example of the grace of God.

Here was this rebel, this guy who was killing people.  Throwing them into prison, just because they’d embraced Jesus as the Messiah.  He was all hung up in the traditions of the fathers.  And as he approaches the city to Damascus, God doesn’t put him through a whole week or two of conviction.  God doesn’t have somebody preaching at him all the way from Jerusalem, but instantly God stops him, and He says, “Saul, why are you persecuting me?”  Of course, old Saul didn’t know who the voice was, except that it came from heaven.  What was his response?  “Who are you Lord?”  Now you see, the Lord prompted all this by grace.  He didn’t have to.  But by pure grace, He stops that raging bull, is the best way I can describe him.  Stops him in his tracks and saves him by a simple question.  “Lord, what would you have me to do?”  And there it was.  So, he became the epitome of Salvation by grace through faith alone. All right, here it is.  We’re not under the law, we’re under grace. Now again, I think I almost have to bring you back to Galatians, because this is where he primarily addresses the problem of people adding to his Gospel.  All right, let’s turn for a moment to Galatians chapter 3.  Now, I’m continuing on last program’s approach of why the weak and beggarly things appealed to these Galatian Gentile believers. Galatians 3:1a “O foolish Galatians, who hath bewitched you,...” Well now, we can answer it, can’t we?  The Judaizers from Jerusalem were telling them they had to keep the Law.  They had to practice circumcision. Galatians 3:1b “…who hath bewitched you, that you should not obey the truth, before whose eyes Jesus Christ hath been evidently set forth, crucified among you?”  How?  By Paul’s Gospel.  And never forget, what’s Paul’s Gospel?  “That Christ died for our sins, that He was buried, and He arose from the dead the third day.”  That’s Paul’s Gospel. We must believe that for salvation!!   Why do people hate it?  I can’t understand it, but they do. They fight it tooth and toenail.  And so did the Galatians.  Not because they were against the gospel itself, but they thought that now it wasn’t enough.  They had to also do what the Judaizers were promoting. Galatians 3:2 “This only (Paul says) would I learn of you, Received ye the Spirit (In other words, the evidence of their salvation. Did you receive the Spirit--) by the works of the law, (Is that when the Spirit came in?  When you were circumcised, and you ate right, and you did everything that the Law demanded?) or by the hearing of faith?”  Now, that’s a simple question, isn’t it?  Tell me Galatians, tell me you Gentile believers, did you come into this relationship with the crucified Christ by keeping the Law?  No.  But wasn’t it when you heard the Gospel?  Yes.  Well then, why isn’t it still enough?  Why do you now think you have to add to it?  And that’s what we’re seeing all around us today. They bombard people with you can’t be saved by faith alone, you have to do something.  Well, I’m just like Paul.  What’s the matter with you people?  If you were saved by faith alone, don’t you think God can keep you by faith alone?  I hadn’t been on television here in Tulsa but for just a couple of months.  I guess it was within the first couple of months, way, way back.  A guy called, and boy he jumped all over me, because I was teaching this kind of a salvation. He said, “Les, you can be saved by that, but you mean to tell that you don’t have to worry about losing it?”  I said, “Now, wait a minute.  Wait a minute.  Do you mean to tell me the grace that saved you wasn’t enough to keep you?”  Well, I had him.  He couldn’t answer it.  That’s what you have to look at.  If the grace of God is sufficient to save you, don’t you think it’s sufficient to keep you?   Well you’d better, because that’s where it’s all at.  If He saves us, He keeps us.  That’s a promise.  All right, read on. Galatians 3:3 “Are ye so foolish? having begun in the Spirit, (That is without the works of the Law.

) are ye now made perfect by the flesh?” Do you come to a full fruition of saving grace by works of the flesh?  Now, what are works of the flesh?  Well, the number one that’s been hoisted and foisted on the human race for the last 1900 years.  What is it?  Baptism.   Hey, that’s a work of the flesh.  Don’t ever tell me it isn’t, because there isn’t a person alive that can’t all of a sudden get the desire to want to be baptized.  And he can find a preacher someplace that will gladly do it.  Am I right?  You know I am.  But what is it?  It’s a work of the flesh.  And Paul says it won’t fly.  It has to be the work of the Spirit. I can go into the same thing with speaking in tongues.  All right, now you can go to some preacher and say, hey, listen to me.  I can speak in tongues.  Are you going to accept me into your church?  Oh, you bet.  Come on in.  That’s one of our requirements.  And Paul will just fly in the face of that, because it’s by the work of the Spirit, the Gospel - the cross plus nothing! All right, let’s go to another one, still in Galatians.  Like I said, this is the letter that deals primarily with extraneous things attached to Paul’s Gospel.  Come on over to chapter 5.  Now, he’s made his argument in chapter 4 using an Old Testament allegory, the picture of Ishmael and Isaac.  Well, Ishmael, you see, was born by the works of the flesh.  God didn’t tell Abraham to go have a child by Hagar.  That was all of the flesh.  But the son of promise, which came 17-18 years later, was Isaac. All right, now Paul by the Holy Spirit inspiration in chapter 4 uses those two young men as perfect examples of Law and Grace.  Law is of the flesh.  It’s what you can DO.  Grace is all the work of the Spirit.  All right, he brings that allegory to a close then, when he says: Galatians 4:30 “Nevertheless what saith the scripture?  Cast out the bondwoman and her son:…” Who was a picture of legalism and have no part with it.  So, if you cast out the bondwoman, what are you left with?  Grace.  Now chapter 5 verse 1. Galatians 5:1 “Stand fast therefore in the liberty (without any demands of the Law or the flesh)   wherewith Christ hath made us free, (Not Paul.  Not some church.  Not Les Feldick.  I don’t have a thing to do with it. All I can show you is what the Scripture says. Christ has made us free.) and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage.” Well, now back up to our verses that we just left in chapter 4 verse 9, same language.  That’s what you have to learn to do.  And when Scripture repeats something, it’s for emphasis.  Don’t miss it.  Here’s our verse. Galatians 4:9 “But now, after that ye have known God, or rather are known of God, how turn ye again to the weak and beggarly elements, whereunto ye desire again to be in bondage?”  Well, what was the perfect picture of bondage in antiquity?   The oxen. And what did the oxen have around their necks?  The yoke.  And what was the purpose of the yoke?  To hook up the plow.  And what was the plow?  A burden!  The poor animal tugged on it all day long.  That’s the picture.  That’s what people are doing religiously.  They are putting the yoke around their neck. They’re hooking themselves under a plow of good works.  What a waste.  All right, now come back to chapter 5 again. He says don’t be wrapped up in a yoke of bondage.   Don’t let somebody hook you up to a works religion.  Now verse 2: Galatians 5:2a “Behold, I Paul…” (Now, why does he put that in there?  The Holy Spirit, yes.  But why does the Holy Spirit put Paul’s name in here?  Well, come back with me now.  I don’t think we touched on it in the last programs.  I wanted to, but I didn’t get there.  Come back to Romans chapter 11.  Keep your hand in Galatians, we’ll be right back.  Romans chapter 11 verse 13. The first time Jerry Pool came into my class some 20 years ago-- Jerry?   He’s sitting there smiling.  He knows exactly what I’m going to say.  After class he came up, and he said, “Les, I never saw that verse in Scripture, and I’ve been in church all my life.

  So use it and use it and use it.”   Well, I do.  Here it is, Romans 11:13. Romans 11:13 “For I speak to you Gentiles, inasmuch as I am the (singular) apostle of the Gentiles.” Now, that’s not a man writing from braggadocio.  That’s Holy Spirit inspired.  Every word that the man writes is as the Holy Spirit wanted it written.  And remember, that makes it Scripture.  Anybody that doubts that Paul is Scripture hasn’t read II Peter 3:16, where Peter says that Paul’s epistles are like all the rest of Scripture.  They are just as much the Word of God as the first five books of Genesis or any of the prophets or the four Gospels or anybody else.  It’s all Scripture. All right, let’s see, I thought I had another one.  Back up a little ways in Romans, chapter 2.  My goodness, when preachers say they won’t have anything to do with Paul, look what they’re doing with their listeners!  Just stop and think of what they’re doing to their listeners.  Romans chapter 2 verse 16.  And again, it’s plain English.  I like to make sure that you’ve found it.   I want my television audience to see it with their own eye. Romans 2:16 “In the day when God shall judge (What day are we talking about?  The Great White Throne for the lost in Revelation 20.) the secrets of men by Jesus Christ (Who will be the Judge. And what are they going to be judged by?) according to my gospel.”  Paul’s Gospel.  Not John’s.  Not Peter’s.  Not even Jesus’ Himself in His earthly ministry.  They’re going to be judged according to this gospel that has been revealed to this apostle.  That’s scary isn’t it?  Because a lot of people aren’t hearing it.  But they’d better, because this is going to be the criteria. All right, I’ve got one more and then we’re going to move on to our next “But Now.”  Colossians, come all the way up past Galatians now - Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians.  This is the Scripture you have to use when people confront you with keeping the seventh day Sabbath.  I had a letter just yesterday that said, “Do I keep the Passover Feast?”  Well, not as they were talking about it.  My goodness, we certainly realize the Passover was that time of the year when Christ was crucified and buried and rose from the dead, but we certainly don’t practice the Passover Feast any more.  And here’s why. Colossian 2:14a “Blotting out (What does that mean? You just simply blank it. It’s gone.) the handwriting of ordinances that was against us,…”  Now, what do you suppose I think that is?  I think most of you are going to agree.  The six hundred and thirteen laws and rules and regulations that govern Judaism, all based on the Levitical commandments - 613 rules! I always get a newsletter from a Jewish Mission up in St. Louis. A year or so ago, in every month’s newsletter, he had a series of those 613 laws until he covered all of them.  I’ve always wanted to write and get a complete list of them.  It was interesting, all 613 over a period of months that he put in the newsletter.  Well, this is what he’s talking about blotting out, removing. Colossians 2:14 “Blotting out the handwriting of ordnances that was against us, which was contrary to us, and took it out of the way, nailing it to his cross.”  Now, come right back to the picture that we just used, the yoke.  What’s the yoke to the poor oxen?  Well, it’s a burden.  It holds him back.  He can’t walk freely.  He’s got a plow behind him.  Same thing here.  These 613 rules were just like a plow dragging behind you.  They were contrary to us.  And He took it out of the way.  Who did?  Jesus Christ!  He took it out of the way and “nailed it (Where? Oh, I love this verse!  I can’t help it!) to his cross.”  Can you get it any plainer than that?  That’s why, when Christ finished the work of the cross, He fulfilled every demand of this Law.  Every bit of it.  You and I can’t.  So, we back away from the Law, and we say, I’ll trust Him. He did it for me.  Now verse 15: Colossians 2:15a “And having spoiled (or He defeated) principalities and powers, he made a show of them openly,…” So that the whole world could know.

Well, what’s He talking about?  When I speak of the  resurrection power, who was defeated?  Satan and all of the powers of sin and death and Hell - the cross defeated it – openly!  And you and I don’t have to make any apology for it.  I don’t have to follow a works religion.  That did it all!   All right, read on, so consequently verse 16. Colossians 2:16 “Let no man (nobody) therefore judge you (Or try to put you on a guilt trip.  Don’t let anybody put you on a guilt trip.) in food, or in drink, (Here it comes now.) or in respect of an holyday, or of the new moon, or of the (What?) sabbath days:” Come on you Sabbath keepers on Saturday, here’s your verse.  Pitches you right out the back door, doesn’t it?  The cross settled it all!  You don’t keep a seventh day Sabbath anymore.  They all had their place; of course they did – in the past.  You know, I love the illustration, I’ve used it over and over - Verse 17. Colossians 2:17 “Which are a shadow of things to come; but the body (the real meat of the matter) is of Christ.”  And that work of the cross.  Now you remember when I used the shadow?  Oh, I like it.  I don’t know, maybe it doesn’t mean much to others, but it does to me.  When that beautiful tree stands there and it casts its shadow and a guy wants to buy the tree.  No, it’s too pretty to sell.  It’s a beautiful shade tree, but I’ll sell you the shadow.  Well, how much furniture can you made with a shadow?  Nothing.  All right, that’s what the Old Testament economy was.  It was the shadow of the real thing to come.  And what was the real thing to come?  Jesus Christ and Him crucified and risen from the dead.  Isn’t it glorious?  Oh, it’s glorious! We don’t have to try to pick up a shadow.  That’s all done away with anyway.  But oh, we can go and embrace the tree, because it’s the finished work of the cross. Well, anyway, we’ve got a couple minutes left.   I hardly dare go into my next “But Now.”  It won’t do it justice, anyway.  So, let’s back up a little bit and work this Law thing a little bit more.  Let’s come back to Romans chapter 3 and finish the half-hour with it.  Because look, I hear it from every end of the country, people think that by keeping the commandments they’re going to make it.  I see heads nodding.  They think they can keep the commandments and do it good enough that God will let them into His Heaven.  Well, they’ve got it all backwards.  The Law is not to help you get to Heaven; it’s to give you the push into Hell.  That’s what it does.  All right, here it is. Romans 3:19 “Now we know (This is from the same apostle.  The apostle of Grace) that what things soever the law saith, it saith to them who are under the law: (In other words, to Israel with their Temple worship and the whole nine-yards.) that every mouth (Not just Jews. Now it goes to the whole world.) may be stopped, and all the world (From one end of this planet to the other, every human being, regardless of their race or nationality or religious background) may become guilty before God.” That’s what the law does.   Now verse 20: Romans 3:20a “Therefore by the deeds (or the keeping) of the Law there shall no flesh be justified in his sight:…” Nobody is ever going to make heaven by keeping the commandments.  Why?  For the Law only has one purpose.  What is it?  To convict, convict, convict and that is all the Law can do.  It has no redeeming value.  It has no redeeming power. All the Law can do is condemn the lost person and trigger then the first step of salvation.  Then once the Law has convicted, the lost person can then go to the Gospel and have total salvation, redemption, and peace with God and all the things that are attendant to it.  But you will never gain Heaven’s portals by simply keeping the Law.  God will not have it, because He finished it with that work of the cross!

[kd-holloman]

Tips and Tricks Tuesday: Drafting

Sometimes I struggle to come up with what to talk about on Tuesdays because as a new self-published author, I feel like I’m not “qualified” to talk about the trials and tribulations that come with being an author. I am still figuring this whole thing out, after all.

However, I don't need to talk about being an author. I can talk about being a writer, because being a writer is something I know very well.

So, without further ado, welcome to …

Tips and Tricks Tuesday! 

Today I want to talk about my drafting process. Please note that I say my drafting process, because all writers are unique and although their process may be very similar, I doubt no two are exactly the same. What works for me may not be what works for you.

In order to make a draft, I have to have something to write about. So, by this point in my process I’ve already nailed down the who, what, when, where, and why of my story. I’ve determined the character(s), which I want to be my narrator(s), if I’m writing in first or third person, and past or present tense. I’ve determined how I want my readers to feel about my story as a whole (and at major plot points) and I’m ready to start drafting.

1. I use my outline as a guide to nail down the major events of the story, but it is not set in stone. 

I’m currently working on the first draft of book three in the MaM Trilogy and have a rough outline. In my head I have somewhat of an idea of where the story is going (major plot points have been set – albeit not in stone) and am ready to roll. Do I love all of the scenes in my outline? 

No, but that’s okay. If I can come up with a better idea that fits and makes more sense, I’ll use that instead of what I have in my outline, but unless I can come up with something that I truly like more than what I have on the page, I’m just going to move forward with it. I can always make changes in my next draft. 

2. I write my first draft and try not to dwell on the little things. 

It’s a first draft. It’s never ever going to be the shiny polished product I want others to read. I don’t dwell on the typos or get choosy about word-choice because the sentence, paragraph, chapter may not even make it into the next draft. 

My main focus is getting the story down and expanding on it from there. 

3. Leave it alone. 

Once my first draft is written I give myself a few days (I try to hold out for two weeks, but it’s pretty tough since I’m not good at letting my mind roam) before looking at it again.

4. Read through, be unbiased but fair, and make comments to myself as I go. 

This is the part that might be hard for a lot of writers. Remember when I said I don’t do any sort of revisions when writing my first draft? That’s because it takes the focus away from just getting the story on the page, but all of those typos? They’re going to be staring right at you. Now, for the sake of time and my own ego, I indulge myself in running the spellchecker before I start my read through. However, if it doesn’t catch it, I don’t take the time to fix it because I’m going to rewrite the whole thing no matter what. 

5. Rewrite it

Aka: The Second Draft

Seriously, I write it again. I’m sure you think I’m nuts when there is a feature to literally move one chunk of text to another document, but hear me out. If there are scenes I like and want to fit into my next draft, I pull each document up in a split screen on my laptop and type it. While I do, that is when I screen for typos, select better words, and rearrange paragraphs and sentences. 

6. Leave it alone...again. 

Trust me, I know how exciting it is to finish a draft. It’s so easy to want to scroll right to the top of your document and start reading over. 

Trust me, give it 2-4 weeks. During this time, I start the plotting stages of another project I want to work on. It’s enough to fill my time doing writer-related tasks to keep me from feeling guilty for not writing, but also keeps my hands out of my draft. 

7. Read it again.

This time I’m scanning for any mistakes, but also focusing on the major parts of my story. I want to start hammering in ways to convey emotions so the reader really feels things how I want them to feel. I make note of this for my next draft. I also address what parts need to be moved, re-worked, or tossed out completely. 

8. Write it again! 

Same deal as before: two tabs, I read in one scroll in the other. 

9. Let it sit...but this time, find beta readers.

While I let your third draft marinate, I like to interact with other writers and search for beta readers. I find that offering to swap stories with someone is the most effective way to get beta readers. I’m just careful making sure I don’t overwhelm myself with too many swaps. 

10. Revise

I run through my manuscript (run the spell checker, pick better words, make sure there are no glaring inconsistencies) and once it has my final seal of approval send it to your beta readers. 

11. Repeat as necessary.

I repeat steps 8, 9, and 10 as many times as needed until I feel my story is as perfect as it’s going to get. Then, find myself an editor.

#tips and tricks tuesday #writerblr #writeblr #writers of tumblr #writing

[milfgyuu]

Getting Closer II [M]

Pairing: Wonwoo x Fem!reader x Mingyu Tags: 6.3k words, Roommate AU, friends to lovers, polyamory, angst, SMUT. [Part 2 of 3] Summary: After the dynamic in the house changes, feelings are a bit muddled between you and Wonwoo, but your boyfriend Mingyu has it all figured out. 

A/N: I highly recommend reading part one first!! Reminder, there is NO infidelity here, this is a consensual arrangement between all three characters! Thanks to all those who’ve waited! :)

Warnings: *explicit sexual content 18+* language, unprotected sex (mxf), bdsm practices, dom!wonwoo (sir), sub!fem!reader, collaring, shibari, restraint (arms), oral (m), fingering (f), pet names, praise, crying kink, subtle edging, teasing/chastising, manhandling, subspace, aftercare. 

The room is dark when you enter, peeking your head through to find Wonwoo exactly where you expect him to be on a Thursday night. He’s in his gaming chair, headphones on, so you lean into his line of sight and he turns slightly, giving you a small smile to tell you he knows you’re there but keeps playing as usual. 

He figures you’ll just make yourself comfortable in his bed to watch him play like you usually do when you’re lonely. Mingyu was out of town for a few days, training staff at his company’s newest location and you, so used to having your boyfriend around 24/7, took to hovering around your other housemate whenever he was gone. Wonwoo didn’t mind, you were always good company in his book. 

Wonwoo is surprised though when he feels your hands on his shoulders, thumbs methodically rubbing into the muscle there and he looks up at you curiously, pulling one side of his headphones forward so he can hear you. “What’s up?” He asks softly. 

He catches your tongue darting out over your bottom lip and thinks you might ask him something but to his surprise and perhaps slight disappointment, you just shake your head with a soft smile. “Nothing. Keep playing your game.”

His eyes furrow but you reach up to situate his headphones properly and he returns to his game like you wanted him to though much more distracted. He can feel your fingers dance along his neck and shoulders, applying pressure to all the right places. You grin to yourself when he rolls his head after a while, a soft groan leaving his lips and hitting you straight in the gut. Your fingers falter in their movements and he smirks.

You suppose you could just admit you’re here for more than companionship but honestly, it’s somewhat of a special occasion and it’s much more fun to play with him than outright ask. You massage your thumbs into his shoulder blades, eyeing the slight protrusion of the vein in his neck, barely visible in the glow from his setup. 

When your lips touch the side of his throat for the first time in weeks he pauses the game, pulling his head phones off before speaking with a single, clear command. “Come here.”

Your victorious grin is hidden before you move in front of his chair, trying and failing to not stare at him. His simple black t-shirt and sweats combo makes your brain malfunction until he’s quirking a brow at you and you’re dropping to your knees, hands settling over your thighs quickly. “What is it that you want?”

“Play with me?” You ask, big doe eyes peering up at him hopefully. 

Wonwoo pokes his tongue into his cheek and then laughs. The deep timber ignites flames in your belly. He notices the way you shift and pins you with his gaze. “Sit still.”

You do as you're told and Wonwoo reaches out, tucking your hair behind your ear before trailing his finger along your jaw until he reaches your chin and he tips it up sharply. “Have you already asked your boyfriend?” He arches his brow, “We don’t normally do this unless he’s here.”

“Yes, sir,” You breathe, eyes flitting to his desk top, “Check your phone, sir.”

Wonwoo watches you for a moment longer, then he releases you, reaching for his phone and opening his messages. There it is, a text from Mingyu that simply reads, ‘Take care of our girl. She’s been eyeing that collar for months.’ with a wink emoji at the end. He looks down at you, then back to the text, and makes a decision he tells himself is strictly with his head and not his heart. 

“Show me what you’re wearing.”

You grin giddly, bubbling with excitement as you slowly get to your feet. It’s been a while since you’ve been in position and your legs tingle with loss of circulation. You tug at the ties of your robe, letting the silk material slide right down your body and fight the urge to pounce on the man in front of you when he exhales, scanning your body from the ground up with appreciation.  

Funnily enough, when Mingyu bought it, his exact words were, “Wonu would fucking love this.”

The baby pink lingerie set is positively scandalous and not even something you would usually bother with because Mingyu would never have the patience to get around all the straps and lace to get to you. Wonwoo however had a love for all things intricate. His eyes moved from one tiny detail to the next. The harness around your breasts, the garters with little bows connected to your panties, the cutouts over your hips. He nibbled on his bottom lip for a moment and smirked. 

“It’s pretty,” He hums, reaching out for your hips and pulling you to stand between his legs. He sits up and presses his lips to your stomach. Each kiss leaves you feeling weaker but your knees almost give out when he pulls back and says, “I think it’s missing one thing.”

He pushes his chair back and stands, walking over to his dresser where he opens the top drawer and grabs something before returning to the chair, “Kneel.”

You happily do as you're told and he shows you the pretty pink collar he’d bought months and months ago. You had always wondered if it ever belonged to someone else but he’d admitted that he’d purchased it on a whim one day, just holding onto it until he’d had someone he was comfortable enough offering it to. He’d briefly explained that collars meant different things to different people. Some were used to symbolize serious, committed relationships. Some were just for play, which had been his intention, and you’d clearly had your eye on it ever since. 

“Would you like to wear it?” He asks, fingers fiddling with the soft leather. 

Your eyes light up with excitement and he laughs, already knowing your answer but he waits for it anyway. “Yes, sir.”

He gestures for you to move your hair and he leans forward, fastenting the collar around your throat, tugging at the little heart shaped ring in the middle to test the fit. He leans back into his chair to take in the full picture. It looks perfect on you, too perfect. He’d pictured it a thousand times from the second he’d ordered it to this very moment when he finally got to put it on you.

He doesn’t realize he’s staring until you cock your head curiously and he clears his throat, reaching for his phone once more. “Let’s send Mingyu a pretty picture since he’s away, hm.”

There is no forcing the lust filled expression on your face and once he snaps the picture he smiles, sending it to your boyfriend to include him though he’s probably working and is about to be extremely fucking distracted. That was his own problem to deal with. He was the one who sent his girlfriend over to Wonwoo’s room with a greenlight to be collared and ‘taken care of’. 

He was absolutely going to oblige, no questions asked. 

He’s about to tell you how beautiful you look when you crawl a bit closer, boldly placing your hands atop his thighs instead of your own, where they should be. Wonwoo looks at your hands, then to your face and his own is not impressed. He flicks a brow up sternly. “If you want to fuck for fun you can wait until Mingyu gets home.”

Your hands slowly slide back down to your own lap and you straighten your spine. Right. There are rules. You love the rules. It’s what makes this whole thing work but sometimes you forget yourself in the rush of things. It’s been a while since you’ve gotten to partake in a ‘lesson’ with Wonwoo and you're perhaps a little more than excited. 

He hums thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair and spreading his thighs further apart. He’s taunting you. It’s a challenge, a test to make sure you remember how this all works. He notices the way you hold eye contact with him, not once scanning down his body like you did before and he smirks. “If you want to play, tell me what rule you just broke.”

Your eyes flicker down for a moment. “Obedience, sir.”

“And why is obedience important?” He asks. The question is not quite mocking, but you feel the undertones and can’t decide if you love it or hate it.

You certainly don’t remark on it though.

“To ensure that I’m safe, happy, and fulfilled during our playtime, sir.”

Wonwoo nods along with your words, seemingly pleased. “And you’re obedient to me because?”

Your eyes dilate to an uncomfortable degree as they always do when you say the words aloud. “Because you are my dominant and I trust you to make decisions in my best interest.”

“Good girl.” Wonwoo’s hand reaches in your direction and your eyes fall shut expecting something gentle like petting your hair or tracing your lips. Instead, he hooks his finger in the heart ring on your collar and tugs sharply, making you fall face first in his lap with a little ‘oof!’

Your hands are still in your lap, now trapped between you and the chair and Wonwoo chuckles at your predicament. “I have an idea you might enjoy, would you like to try it?”

His last ‘idea’ involved toys and edging which both you and Mingyu found rather...informative. Mingyu’s newfound appreciation for dragging out your orgasms was the purest form of pleasurable torture and you trusted Wonwoo to have a good idea of things you would like so a little muffled, “Yes, sir,” puffs out of your mouth and he grins. 

A gentle hand on your shoulder guides you upright and Wonwoo stands, walking over to the closet and pulling out a box you recognize. The pretty blue rope he pulls out of it however, is not, but it certainly peaks your interest. He can see you eyeing his hands when he returns and regards you with another stern look. “Did you drink plenty of water today?”

“Yes, sir.”

He smirks to himself, fiddling with the rope before looking at you again with a little mischief in his eyes. “You've been planning this all day, haven’t you?”

You grin back, a twinkle of your typical flare present. “Yes, sir.”

Wonwoo bites the inside of his cheek, stifling a laugh. He decides to move on and lifts his hand with the rope in it. “Do you know what this is for?”

“Restraint, sir.”

He tilts his head furtively, “Restraint, yes, but not always. That is how I’d like to use it today though. Is that okay with you?”

“Will it hurt?” There is a touch of concern in your voice and Wonwoo shakes his head right away, easing a bit of worry. 

“It will be tight enough to restrict movement, but no, it shouldn’t hurt. Give me your hands,” He says and you offer them both, palm up. He places the rope in your hands and you’re surprised by how light and soft it feels. “We’ll start simple, I only want to restrict your arms. If you like it, I’ll teach Mingyu, deal?”

You smile softly, nodding your head, “Yes, sir.”

Wonwoo genuinely smiles. It’s been a while since he’s had someone to practice shibari with and, being something he thoroughly enjoys though rarely gets to partake in, he’s thrilled you agreed. 

He grabs the rope in one hand and offers you the other, pulling you up off the ground with ease. He eyes your lingerie up and down before biting his lip, “I really love this, but I’m going to take the top off so nothing pinches when I tie you up.”

Freeing both hands, he reaches up and slips one finger beneath a strap and pulls it gently, sliding his fingertip along the underside of the material until he stretches it taut and releases. You jump as it slaps loudly against your skin and he smiles at your reaction. “Cute. Be a good girl and sit still while I take this off and I might let you kiss me.”

The larger more civilized part of your brain wants you to laugh and tell him to fuck off but he strips off his shirt, dropping it to the floor before his hands are on you, gliding along the material teasingly. He’s not even looking, fingers blindly trailing along, lazily searching for the one piece holding the whole thing together while his lips tease. He kisses your cheek, your jaw, the side of your throat, and your nails dig into your palms as you clench your hands into fists, fighting to remain as still as possible. 

Thankfully, the torture doesn’t last long. With one simple motion, you’re freed from the material and Wonwoo steps back, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes travel slowly, reverently, and he smirks. Your hands are still clenched tightly, your jaw just the same and he takes a little pity on you. Only a little. 

“Need something baby?” His voice is taunting and you don’t even care that you’re playing right into his games. You love these little power plays he sets up. 

“Can I kiss you, sir?”

Wonwoo hums thoughtfully, thinking about his answer for a full minute and you’re practically squirming out of your skin waiting when he finally speaks. “Well...what’s taking you so long?”

He grins when you leap into his arms to plant your lips on his, catching you with quick reflexes. It’s a very brief window of normalcy you’d usually get from Mingyu during these sessions and Wonwoo knows the intimacy your boyfriend provides is important to you before and after playtime but it’s his responsibility in this session and he is nothing if not a giving man.

He pretends it’s just for you and convinces himself you still believe it.

You take your time kissing him, grinning against his lips when he groans into your mouth like he just can’t get enough. He’s your dominant, always in control, but that doesn’t mean he’s immune to your charms.

Particularly in those moments he feels your nails scratch needily against his scalp, gripping onto his shoulders to keep him close to you when he slips his tongue past your lips. You’re greedy with him, taking as much of him as you can but somehow it makes him feel just as powerful as he does when he’s the one giving. 

As a sub who’s still learning, you often test him which is just as fun, if not more, as it is with a partner who's fully submissive and obedient. 

You know your time has run out when his hands slip from your thighs, allowing you to slowly slide down his body until your feet touch the floor. “Baby, put your hands together for me,” He instructs and you do as you're told, “Now, lace your fingers together. Good girl. Stay like that for me.”

Wonwoo grabs the rope and you watch as it’s length spills to the floor. He begins binding your wrists with focused precision and you watch the loops, wondering if this is something Mingyu could easily replicate once shown. “Lift your hands to your chest,” He instructs, guiding you into the right position before he begins binding your arms to your chest. The feeling of the rope is soft but firm and when he tests the binding, you’re unable to move but still comfortable. 

“How do you feel?” He asks, eyes flitting over every single twist and knot, testing the tension at various points. 

“It feels good,” You tell him honestly, “It feels secure.”

He grabs his phone and snaps another picture, sending it off to Mingyu and ignoring the barrage of texts reacting to the last photo he’d sent. He drops his phone again and instructs you to get on your knees. You struggle to maintain your balance but manage to get down on your knees without toppling over.

You’re so proud of yourself for not falling that you’re distracted and nearly eat the floor when Wonwoo drops his pants and sits down in his chair again. Fully nude and imposing by the way he spreads his legs and crooks one finger in your direction, beckoning your forward. 

The stupid little shuffle you have to do to get closer is somewhat embarrassing and Wonwoo smirks cockily at you when you do it anyway. You look up at him curiously when he grabs his controller and puts his headset back on, muting the mic. “Be a good girl and use that pretty mouth while I play another round. If I win the match, you keep going. If you manage to make me lose, I’ll fuck you. Deal?”

You peer over at the screen to see what he’s playing and know right away you’ve got your work cut out for you. He’s good at this game and you’ve got no hands to aid you in your distraction but the challenge is enticing and so you smile, placing a wet kiss on the inside of his knee that makes him scoff, a little smile painting his lips. “Deal, sir.”

After only a minute, it is abundantly clear how hard this was going to be. Even with Wonwoo positioned low in the seat it was difficult to angle yourself over him. He was big, his length causing you to stretch high on your knees to get him into your mouth and the strain on your body was immediate. Wonwoo’s laugh echoes through the room when he lowers the chair without warning and you take more of him down your throat than expected, pulling back with a surprised cough. 

The match ends in his victory and he tuts down at you, “Gonna have to work a little harder, princess.”

You’re more determined than ever when you lean back in, dragging your tongue over his shaft slowly, staring up into his face the whole time. You fight a smirk when his jaw drops a bit and his eyes shift away from the screen to look at you before flitting back up. Continuing on with teasing licks and kisses, he doesn’t seem fazed which frustrates you but you know one thing that always sends Mingyu into a frenzy and figure it’s worth a try. 

Distracted by the immense focus he’s pouring into playing, he’s taken off guard when your lips find the softest, most vulnerable spot at the base of his cock and you suck hard. One quick slip of the hand and he’s dead. Head shot. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

You laugh quietly, “Did you lose your game, sir?” 

The title comes off with much more sass than intended.

Wonwoo’s answering grin is positively devious when hauls you up off your knees with both hands and pushes you up against his closet door, the cool wood unforgiving under your cheek. You can feel him behind you, towering over you with his stiff cock pressed into your backside. You whimper in response trying to push back against him but he slaps your ass hard and you bite back a yelp. 

“Did someone suddenly forget their manners?” He hums, rubbing his hand over the already rising welt on your left cheek. “If you want to act like a brat, I’ll leave you tied up and get the toys out.” His words sear against your skin, stirring up desire and fear. “You wanna lay on the bed and let me edge you until you cry again? We could do that for hours.”

You shake your head hastily, you wanted him to fuck you, you wanted to be good and be rewarded, not punished. “Mmm, you’re not doing much to convince me baby. You know how much I love it when you cry and Mingyu’s not here to stop me when our precious baby sniffles.”

“I don’t- I’ll be good,” You pant out against the door. “I’ll be patient, sir.”

Wonwoo pulls you off the door and angles you toward the bed using the rope harness to roughly guide you onto the mattress. You’re helpless to catch yourself when he spins you around and pushes you backwards, sending you sprawling against the pillows like a ragdoll but the view is fucking spectacular. It’s just Wonwoo, illuminated by the neon blue lights from his gaming system, gloriously naked and stroking his cock in one hand as he looks down at you. 

“What’s the word, princess?” 

“Plushie,” You recite without hesitation. Your safe word you’re meant to use with both Wonwoo and Mingyu, whenever you’re in a scene with either of them. You haven’t had to actually use it so far, with either of them but you can recall it, even in subspace when they check in. 

“Good girl,” He coos although his sweet tone is almost patronizing. He climbs up on the bed and slides your panties off, tossing them on his desk like a trophy. “Are you comfortable? Ropes good?”

“Yes, da-” Your eyes grow wide and Wonwoo stifles a laugh.

“That’s not my name,” He smirks, mercilessly flicking one exposed nipple and earning a choked moan from you. 

“Yes, I’m c-comfortable, everything feels good, sir.”

“I should blindfold you,” He thinks aloud to himself as he presses two fingers against your lips and you take them in greedily, sucking until he’s abruptly pulling them from your mouth and pushing them straight into your soaked core. He ignores the loud, wanton moan and continues speaking as if he’s not two knuckles deep inside you. 

“I think you’ll be too overwhelmed without touch,” He hits your g-spot in an upward stroke and you’re already desperate for something to ground you but you can reach nothing. “Taking away your sight would be too much too soon, don’t you think?”

Your fingers clench hard, nails leaving little crescents when they dig into the soft skin on the backs of your hands. Normally you’d grab the sheets, the pillow, Mingyu or Wonwoo, even your own damn hair just to hold onto something and you can’t. Your binding leaves you completely powerless. “Easy,” Wonwoo warns, low and serious. 

He can see you start to realize what being restricted actually feels like and calms you down with one hand smoothing up and down your thigh. “Focus on my question,” He orders, “Would taking away your sight be too much tonight?”

Not being able to touch or see him...the thought is unpleasant. “Yes, sir. I need to see you. Make sure you’re still here when I can’t touch you.”

Wonwoo pulls his fingers from you with devastating speed and hauls you up into a sitting position. He kisses you hard, pushing his tongue past your own and overpowering you without any ounce of fight.

“I’m right here with you,” He pulls away, just far enough to look you in the eye, “I would never leave you alone like this. Do you understand?”

He is stern and sincere. Wonwoo may tease you. He may challenge you. He would never, ever do something to make you uncomfortable and you know in your heart you are always safe with him, especially during play. “I understand, sir.”

“Good,” he kisses your forehead and lays you back against the pillows. “I want you to use your safeword if your restraints hurt, if I am hurting you in any way, if you are too overwhelmed being restrained. Say it. If you can’t say it, I want you to shake your head back and forth, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Wonwoo nods and he settles himself between your thighs that you instinctually spread for him. He picks up your legs and wraps them around his waist, “Squeezing with your thighs can help ground you when you can’t use your hands.”

You squeeze him and the relief you feel keeping him close to you is palpable. He smiles at your reaction and slips back into his teasing, domineering persona. “Pretty girl,” he reaches between you and rubs the head of his cock between your folds, only slipping in for a second before teasing you again, “I’m going to fuck you stupid and make your boyfriend wish he was here to pick up all the pieces.”

In his last words, Wonwoo pushes into you completely, giving you all of two seconds to adjust to his size before he’s plowing into you, hips crashing into the backs of your thighs with such force you’re momentarily worried the headboard will go straight through the wall. Wonwoo’s always in it for the long game. He could spend hours teasing you, pleasuring you in ways you couldn’t imagine and it took even longer when he was teaching Mingyu something new. 

When it came down to it though, when he finally got to be inside you after keeping himself calm and controlled for so long, he was like a live wire and right now was no exception. He didn’t have to share you right now. He didn’t have to consider taking it easy on you so you could take Mingyu as well. He didn’t have to share his time nor your attention. You belonged to him right now and he was taking full advantage of it. 

He hones in on your face, softening quickly, mouth falling open on unbridled cries and he watches you slip into subspace much faster than usual. He’s unsure if it’s because of the restraints or the subtle edging he’s inflicted all night but your body turns to jelly in his grip, a dazed laugh fluttering from your lips when your head lolls to the side. Wonwoo slows his pace for a moment, reaching forward and taking you by the throat. “What color, baby?”

It takes you a moment and he watches your smile fall open with a particularly deep thrust. Your brows furrow as you try to get your mouth to move, “Green, sir...p-please keep going.”

He’s so fucking proud of you he can’t stand it. 

The pace he picks up is brutal, unforgiving, and your eyes roll back when he uses one hand to pin the front of your thighs to your stomach and the other to rub dizzying circles over your clit. You can’t think, can hardly breathe. You can only mumble out incoherent whining noises when you’re close to coming undone. “Need to, t-to come please, sir, please.”

“If I say no, then what?” He taunts you, “Will you cry for me?”

“W-will cry even if y-you say yes,” You manage, words heavily slurred. 

Wonwoo laughs even though he’s right there with you and the second he gives you the go ahead you’re coming hard around him. Tears soak your cheeks and Wonwoo groans at the sight, burying himself to the hilt and emptying his load inside with a death grip on your thighs. It takes several minutes for him to recover, panting hard as his cock still twitches inside you and he eventually pulls out with a grunt, stretching your legs slowly before lowering them back to the bed. 

Your eyes are nearly closed when he moves up the bed, speaking softly in the quiet air. You grasp onto every few letters but not enough to make out what he’s saying. You’ve gotten a better handle on coming out of subspace with practice and very slowly over the next ten minutes, you wade through the fog, back to the man gently undoing your bindings and whispering quiet praises to you.

“Wonu,” Your voice is a bit hoarse and you’re still exhausted, allowing him to maneuver your body as he shrugs off the last of the rope, stretching your arms out and making sure you still have feeling in your fingers. He smiles at your voice and checks-in. 

“Hey, brat,” He grins, “How are you feeling?”

You stretch your limbs weakly, exhaustion heavy in your bones as always. “Good. Really good but tired. Can I sleep in here with you? Don’t wanna stay by myself.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh. “Mingyu’s made you so needy.”

“Between the two of you, I might be a little spoiled,” You grin, eyes still shut as you rest against the pillows. 

“Oh, no you don’t,” He chastises, smacking your thigh and making you pop one eye open, pout clearly etched upon your face. “You need to go to the bathroom at the very least.”

“Fucking UTI’s,” You mutter and he laughs, pulling you into a sitting position. 

“You also owe me something,” He holds out a hand and you look at it for a moment. 

You smack it like a high five and he huffs. You lean forward and kiss him but he puts a finger on your forehead and pushes you back after a moment, shaking his head. “Are you sure?” You whine petulantly. 

“Yes,” He wiggles his fingers impatiently, “It’s only for play-time. If you act like a brat, I won’t let you wear it again.”

With that, you hastily remove the collar with fumbling fingers and drop it into his hands and he sets it on his desk before helping you to the bathroom on shaky legs, waiting for you to shoo him away once he’s no longer needed. 

Once clean and relieved, Wonwoo helps you slip into a clean t-shirt and underwear before you crawl back into his bed under the covers. “Are you hungry?” 

You shake your head, making him purse his lips before he picks up a glass of water, placing it in your weak hands, “Drink.”

“You’re still being bossy,” You comment petulantly before tipping the glass and doing what you were told anyway. 

Wonwoo’s lips quirk into a little smile before he schools his face again. “Yeah, well...Mingyu isn’t here so you’re still my baby right now. I always let him do this because he’s your boyfriend and it feels like that’s what makes sense, I guess.”

He leans forward once you're finished, taking the glass from your hands and wiping a drop of water off your chin affectionately. You pull the blankets up a bit higher, settling against his pillows. “Does that bother you?” You ask quietly. 

His back is turned to you when the question leaves your mouth and he pauses, gripping the glass for a few seconds too long before setting it down. “No,” He starts, turning to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out to pat your hip over the blanket, “I love you guys. Seeing you happy makes me happy.”

The small smile he offers is genuine but it almost feels tight. Slipping a hand from under the blanket, you reach for his, entwining your fingers and rubbing your thumb along his soft skin. You look up at him in the dim lighting, meeting his eyes and ask something you should have asked much sooner.

“Are you happy though?” Your eyes narrow on him when he moves to answer. “We’re best friends. You’re not allowed to lie to me.”

“That’s a loaded question,” He sighs into a short laugh. “I’m not unhappy, I don’t want you to think that. Mingyu and I have been like brothers forever and I always knew you two had potential, way before either of you did. From the moment we all met, I resigned myself to that and it’s been fine. Great. You and I make perfect friends. We get along, we have a lot in common, we’re comfortable with each other. You and Mingyu are seriously perfect for each other and I am happy you’re together.”

He stops and you raise your brow, knowing there is more. “But?”

“You guys include me a lot, did you realize that? Like in your relationship I mean.” 

The answer makes you pause your motion against his skin. When you and Mingyu began dating, it felt like everything and nothing had changed. If anything, it just made things more comfortable because there was no more questioning to your interactions. No more wondering if it was odd that he did in fact hug you more than ten times a day, that he doted on you, or cuddled with you every night on the couch. It was the same but now it was simpler, he was your boyfriend and you didn’t have to constantly read into the way he treated you. 

Your interactions with Wonwoo had changed though, Mingyu’s as well. They seemed closer than ever which at first had been a bit of a shock considering you’d all hooked up mere hours before Mingyu confessed and it was him that had approached Wonwoo about continuing to hook up together, much to your surprise. 

When you came home from work you kissed them both on the cheek, you all cooked and ate dinner together, you asked them both how their day was, and nights on the couch were spent tucked into Mingyu’s side with Wonwoo’s head in your lap. You did almost everything together.

Your voice comes out as a mere whisper. “I guess I hadn’t given it much thought until now but...you’re right.” You stopped questioning things with Mingyu because he was your boyfriend but with Wonwoo there was no other reason than because it all just felt right. 

You hang your head, feeling guilty for not being more considerate of Wonwoo’s feelings. “I’m really sorry if that’s made you uncomfortable.”

Wonwoo jumps at the sad little frown on your lips.

“No! No, it doesn’t!” He quickly assures you and you nod once, confused. “It’s just that sometimes it just feels almost too natural, the dynamic changed but in a way that I think made all of us happy. I just forget sometimes that it’s different for me and Gyu. You guys are the ones dating and I have to remind myself of that every once in a while.”

“Wonu,” You sigh softly, hurt coursing through every vein and making you feel cold all over. 

“Baby,” He leans close and kisses your forehead. “We can talk about it later but you’re tired, I’m tired...let’s go to bed. Okay?”

He crawls under the blankets next to you and you shuffle aside until you’re both in the middle of the bed, your face tucked into the crook of his neck and a thigh thrown over his. You’re usually in Mingyu’s bed every night and being in Wonwoo’s embrace instead for the first time...it’s foreign and familiar at the same time. 

You’d always come to the conclusion that you loved them both but differently, except more and more, those feelings are starting to look the same and that left you in a world of uncertainty and confusion. You knew a conversation needed to happen between the three of you as soon as Mingyu came home. 

“Shut your brain off. Go to sleep,” Wonwoo whispers in the dark, kissing your forehead softly. 

“Good morning, lovers,” Mingyu grins from his position in the doorway the next morning. 

He had to physically restrain himself from jumping with joy when his boss called him back home and he’d driven the two hour distance like a bat out of hell to get back just so he could come home to this.

He didn’t bother going to your room, or his. After the photos he’d received last night, he knew that what he’d planned had in fact come to fruition, so he walked right into Wonwoo’s room to find you both still sound asleep. Wonwoo now on his side with you glued to his back, leg tossed over his hip with an arm tightly wrapped around his chest. 

The familiar voice makes you groan into the soft skin between Wonwoo’s shoulders, not quite ready to unfurl from your comfortable position and you feel his hand covering your own on his chest squeeze lightly. Mingyu huffs out a laugh, not truly expecting either of you to budge. You don’t even hear him tear out of his socks, pants, and shirt before he’s slipping under the covers behind you, pressing an endless amount of gentle kisses against your covered shoulders. 

“...missed you guys so much,” He whispers softly, his warm breath stirring your hair slightly. 

Wonwoo doesn’t move, nor does he open his eyes when he speaks, voice monotone and heavily laden with sleep. “It’s been two days, surely you can’t have missed us that much.”

Mingyu ignores him for a moment, choosing instead to meet your lips in a soft, unhurried kiss that Wonwoo can audibly make out. Your boyfriend pulls back, eyes alight with warmth and mischief. “It was lonely and I don’t like sleeping in an empty bed. This is much better.”

“Mhm,” Wonwoo hums, pulling your joined hands up to his lips to tenderly kiss your knuckles. “It’s something I think I could get used to.”

You unconsciously snuggle between them, enjoying the feeling of complete warmth, love, and security between your two lovers and Mingyu looks down at you fondly. It was odd, unconventional even, but it felt right and that was good enough for him. Wonwoo overthinks a bit too much, something you both have in common, so Mingyu did what any good friend would do by setting the two of you up for a night alone. 

As it seemed, things may have worked out just the way he wanted them to. His two favorite people in the world, happy. Perhaps a bit confused by their feelings, but happy in each other’s arms as they should be. He was elated. 

Mingyu closed his eyes, kissing the back of your head once more and soon enough, the three of you were all back to sleep in the safe little bubble of Wonwoo’s bedroom. All the questions and reassurances would come later and he was ready for whatever silly arguments either of you would come up with. 

Making sure you all felt loved and fulfilled was all any of you cared about in the long run and Mingyu was determined to make you both see that getting closer was more than worth it. 

Part III coming soon 💗

SVT M.List | Main M.List 

→ Do not copy, repost, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms WITHOUT PERMISSION! All stories are copyrighted, Bubblebeom, 2021. ©️

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[xoxo-teddybear]

The Silent Treatment - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: slight angst, slice of life, crack(ish?), fluff, cursing

Summary: Bakugou is very much....an asshole. A shithead. A professional dick if you will. And Y/N, being his girlfriend is very much aware of that. So when he takes it too far, she has to make sure he learns his lesson.

A/N: just a quick lil cute thing, totally not spelled check

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

“Hey babe!” Bakugou said as he walked into the living room to find his girlfriend reading a book. He plopped down next to her and just relaxed in the feeling of the soft cushion. The little shit felt like messing with his girlfriend today.

Y/N had already been having a pissy day. After arguing with her boss, forgetting a few items back at the grocery store, and losing her new pair of headphones, she just wanted some peace with her cup of tea and a good book. Now, she has her loving boyfriend to comfort her as well. This day was surely taking a turn...right?

“Hi love, need something?” You asked calmly with the most melodic voice. Your voice. His favorite sound in the world. The sound of you just put a smile on his face which is a huge oxymoron to what this motherfucker is about to say.

“Nah, just wanted to talk to my princess,” he said while resting his head on your stomach, resting in between your legs and wrapping his arms around your waist. You awed at him but didn’t notice his little devil smile. “I had the best dream last night.”

“About what Suki?” You asked while petting his soft hair.

“You.”

“Awweee,”

“Yeahhh. You went mute for the day. Fucking paradise.” Once the words left his mouth you stilled your actions and felt your eye twitch in annoyance. Your hand on his head stilled and slightly tugged at it. In any other circumstance, Bakugou would’ve groaned at the tug (kinky bastard) but he was too busy chuckling into your tummy.

You exhaled roughly through your nose and pushed Bakugou off of you in a very polite way. He rolled onto his back onto the actual couch and watched as you crossed your legs, close your book, and pick up your tea mug.

“Hmph!” Was all that you “said” as you tilted your nose to the air and walked away. Bakugou just snickered as you left. He thought it was adorable when you were mad over tiny inconveniences and thought it was hot as fuck when you were yelling at him, but today, you won’t be doing neither.

—

About 30 minutes had passed and Bakugou had awoken from his nap on the couch. He fell asleep after you walked away but now missed your touch. He sat up, stretched, and went to find you. He walked around the house until he spotted you relaxing in the jacuzzi in the backyard. He grinned at your relaxed look and went to change.

A few minutes later Bakugou had came out to join you in the hot tub. Your eyes were shut as you relaxed in the bubbling water, and so Bakugou was able to get in without being seen. He relaxed into the water as he scooted closer to you, eventually grabbing a hold of your waist.

“Hi baby,” he said as he attempted to place you in his lap but you looked at him with an unimpressed look as you scooted away. “Y/N?”

You grabbed your towel and stepped out of the tub. You wrapped yourself in the cloth as you walked back into the house, completely ignoring Bakugou as he spoke to you.

“Wha- you’re just gonna leave? I just got in with you,” he pouted. He opted to stay in the nice warm water for a bit but once you closed the door he groaned and sunk deeper into the water. He let the water go just above his mouth and right below his nose as he blew bubbles into the tub out of annoyance.

‘The fuck is up with her?’ He thought to himself.

—

Time passed and Bakugou came out the tub. He went back to his room to change into some gray sweats and a black long sleeve (and yes he pulled the sleeves up a bit because he knew you found it attractive and if y’all don’t, well I do).

He walked into the kitchen and spotted you seemingly eating dinner. He noticed a plate for him but kind of frowned at the fact that you didn’t wait for him. He saw you placed the plate on the other side of the island, far away from you, and so he pulled the plate over and took the seat next to you.

“Hey, princess? You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” He asked but you said nothing as you just ate in silence. “Silent treatment huh?” No words.

“Baby, is this about what I said? I was only kidding Y/N,” he said as he tried to wrap his arm around your waist but you pushed it off and he groaned. “Fine. Be that way, you’ll get over it. Come talk to me when you’re done acting like a brat.”

Bakugou just grunted as he ate his dinner in silence right next to you. You finished before him and walked away after you washed your dish and this time it was Bakugou who snubbed his nose in the air at you. If it was the silent treatment that you were gonna give then it was the silent treatment that you were gonna get....sorta.

—

“BABYYYY PLEASSEEEEE!!” He whined while poking at your leg. You were currently in your home office typing away at your computer doing work when Bakugou came in about 25 minutes after he finished his dinner. He couldn’t help himself. He missed you.

You continued to ignore Bakugou as he poked and shook you for attention. You gave him nothing all day and he was getting close to his limit. Please believe he wasn’t getting shit after that brat comment.

“Princessss, c’mon! It was a joke baby, let’s go to sleep, yeah?” He begged. You looked at him with a bored expression and saw his smile as you finally gave him something. You turned back to face your computer and his smile dropped again and was replaced with a scowl. “Y/N, I was just messing with you. I love the sound of your voice and I love you. So quit ignoring me and come give me love!” He demanded.

When he noticed you weren’t budging, he stood from his seat and pinched the bridge of his nose as he mentally counted.

‘1....2...3,’

He gave in and forcefully turned your chair and threw you over his shoulder. You didn’t speak to him but you squirmed and shook trying to get out of his grasp.

“Aye, aye,” he smacked your ass to get you to stop, “quit it. I’m tired, and I want sleep, and we both know I don’t sleep unless my teddy bear is with me, so shush.”

You looked at him when he told you to “shush.” As if you hadn’t been doing that all day. He just squinted his eyes as he knew what you were thinking. “You know what I mean shitty woman!”

Bakugou stormed into your shared bedroom and dropped you onto the mattress. You didn’t even try to run away. You had decided that, yes, you are indeed tired but you refused to give a certain blonde any attention. You stretched on the bed and Bakugou was in awe of your cute state but quickly snapped out of his trance when you turned on your side and gave him your back.

Bakugou got into bed along side you and scooted closer. He pressed himself against your back but once he made contact, you scooted farther away. And so, he scooted himself closer again but just like before, you scooted away. This went on about 2 more times before you scooted and fell off the bed.

“Y/N? You okay, love?” He asked as he looked down at you. You popped up from the floor, on your knees and grumbled to yourself as you vented quietly. You stood up and continued ranting as you tried to walk away to sleep on the couch but before you could get away from the king sized bed, Bakugou grabbed your wrist and pulled you on top of him. “Ignore me all you want but I’m not sleeping without my cuddles.”

You sighed as you gave in. You allowed him to hold you but you refused to speak. Bakugou rubbed circles onto your back as he inhaled your scent but he missed the sound of your voice. The sweet sound that was something similar to honey.

“Baby...I’m sorry.”

You looked at him when he apologized and raised your brow. A verbal, genuine, apology from Katsuki Bakugou? This you’ve gotta see.

“I know I shouldn’t have said that to you and even if I was only kidding......it was pretty fucking mean. ..But I hope you know I love the sound of your damn voice. I love you, dumbass. And I would never ask you to stay silent because....*sigh* ‘cuz your voice, you talking to me, you being with me, and just you in general keeps me sane. So I’m sorry. Okay? And I love you..” he said with a growing blush as he stared at you with a flustered face.

You smiled and went up to peck his lips and then give him a loving kiss. He jumped at the sudden contact but quickly melted into the kiss. He smiled as he finally got to revel in the sweet intimate moments like this. The sweet moments he’s been missing all day.

“I love you too Suki.” Oh how he craved to hear your voice. He loved the sweet sound and missed your loving tone. He pulled you in closer and just held you tight. He doesn’t plan on letting go.

“I’m so sorry. I will never make you upset like that ever again.” He bargained but you only shook your head.

“Katsuki, I was just messing with you today. I had an annoying day and that little joke just sent me over the edge but you know I never take your mean quips to heart. You’re rough around the edges but that’s just who you are and I don’t mind it. I love everything about you, even if you’re a jerk sometimes,” you teased and flicked at his nose. You giggled as he whined and tried to soothe the spot you hit. “You don’t have to censor yourself around me. Okay?”

Bakugou smiled even more. He loves you so damn much. Not only did you know he was just a little abrasive, but you accepted him for all his brunt behavior. You truly did love him. “Thanks princess,”

He sealed the deal with a sweet kiss to your temple as you giggled at the warm feeling of his soft lips. He pulled you down to his chest as you both cuddled up for the night. You sleeping is the only time Bakugou will ever be okay with you being silent. But never again will he ever allow himself to get the silent treatment.

A/N: Guys, I’m so sorry. I’ve been in such a slump and I feel like im reaching a writers block. It’s not even like I don’t have any ideas, I do! And I even have multiple unfinished pieces in my drafts but I just don’t have any motivation to finish :( sorry Cubs, don’t worry, I’ll try my best to finish them as quick as I can. Idk, should I take a break?

I’m already in the middle of a story and I don’t wanna leave those who are reading on a cliffhanger.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x y/n #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #katsuki x reader #boku no hero academia #katsuki bakugou #mha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #my hero academia #my hero academia bakugou #bnha bakugo x reader #mha bakugo x reader #bakugou angst #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo angst #boku no hero bakugou #my hero bakugo #mha kacchan #mha katsuki #bnha katsuki

[fruitoftheweek]

Little Cherry Book:

Chapter 4:Showered in Sin

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Hey guys! I'm sorry that it has taken so long for me to update this. I had an idea of what I was going to write but I had a super hectic week so I wasn't able to write this till now. In order to make up for it, I have given you a treat. A 6,502 word chapter. It kinda beat my ass but I had so much fun writing it. It's sweet, it's spicy, it's all the goodness you guys deserve. I was listening to Duvet by Boa while writing this and I think you should too for two reasons. One, it helps set the mood, but also oh my fucking god it's such a good song. Also, Boa is just a fucking great band. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and message me if you would like to be added to the tag list! Love you guys

Pairing: Spencer Reid X reader

Chapter Plot: After a game of drunk never have I ever after a long case, Morgan locks Spencer out of their shared room. Shenanigans ensue and you and Spencer share a couple of firsts.

Series TW: 18+, smut, degradation, piercing, choking, knife play, mommy/daddy kinks, spanking, exhibitionism, Will update as time goes on

Chapter TW: smut, slight mommy kink, having body piercings, choking, slight blood kink (not really, it's just hard to explain), Shared masturbation (male and female receiving), pleading, multiple orgasms, cumming in pants, shower sexiness, aftercare

Word Count: 6,502

Your deep cherry lipstick painted the white seal of the wine bottle you held in your hand as you laughed at something Elle said. Spencer couldn't help but let a small smile pass his lips as he took in your form, hot from the day's work, small strands of your hair sticking to your forehead, a dewy glow illuminating your rosy cheeks.

After a long week, they had found Carl Arnold before he had been able to kill the Dunken family and even coerced a confession out of him. With spirits running high, Elle had suggested some much-needed relaxation before taking off the next day. Since you were rooming alone, you volunteered to host in your room. Morgan had arrived at your hotel room with two bottles of some sort of liquor, one clear and one amber, JJ trailing in toe with your bottle of red wine you had asked for. You pulled out your little corkscrew with the face of an old man on it, knowing she hated his weird little face. You brought it with you on trips, just in case the occasion arose.

And it did arise as Elle suggested a drinking game. Hotch had retired early after calling Hailey to get an update on his very pregnant wife, while Gideon preferred the solitude of a good book late at night. The rest of you sat on the floor surrounded by drinks and snacks. With the supervision gone, it almost felt like a high school party with no parents. You all had all settled on a classic, never have I ever. "We haven't played this in a long time because we already know so much about each other, but it's fun when we have a newbie around," Morgan said giving you a cheeky smile and bumping your shoulder. Already pliable after the couple of drinks you had while Elle explained the game, you nodded before tipping your lips to the cusp of Spencer's ear. "I'll try not to make it too hard for you, pretty boy," you said. The small puffs of air that left your mouth made Spencer's hair stand on end and his feet curl.

He knew you were teasing him that night and he loved it. He decided to keep his knees tucked to his chest for the rest of the night as to not expose the predicament in his pants. He watched the way you lightly sucked on the wine bottle as you tipped it back, a thin river of cabernet leaking from the corner of your lips and trailing down your neck. Spencer wanted nothing more than to lean over and lap it off of you just to see how you would react, but he knew it was the drinks talking. Despite your earlier comment, it was quite obvious that you were targeting him as his head started to spin gently.

"Never have I ever had sex with someone much older than me," Garcia said through her video feed with a cheeky smirk. Derek had insisted on including her even though she wasn't physically present. She sat bundled up in a comfy blanket in her office with a mug of some sort of alcoholic beverage. "HEY! No targeting! Plus, I told you that in confidence at ladies night. How much is much older?" You said, swaying your bottle towards the computer set up on the floor."You know how much older I mean sweetheart." Garcia said with a giggle as you groaned and took a sip."How much older is much older?" Morgan said with a cocked eyebrow, somewhere between impressed and surprised." I was a college student, experimenting with my professor. Not like an old man, but he was 20 years older than me. Definitely not my style anymore though." You said with a grimace remembering him.

Spencer had learned a lot about your sex life during that game, but some part inside of him smirked, knowing that the rest of the team would never know you as he knew you, not unless they too had read your journal. It was the only thing keeping his head clear of the idea of you with anyone else. Not that you were with him in any capacity, but the idea still made him feel something in his stomach. Not the sweet butterflies that came with your smile, but something more like idiotic hornets dangerously bumping against the walls of his stomach.

Spencer hadn't even noticed the uproar of everyone else around the circle at your comment and the second revelation that Morgan had drunk too. He was too busy watching how you had shyly tucked your hair behind your ear, finally letting it down out of your clips for once. You were wearing your pajamas, just a tank top, slouchy sweater, and flannel pajama pants, but somehow you looked more radiant than ever. He had come back down to earth after hearing someone call his name."Y-Yes?" He sputtered out, realizing you had been trying to get his attention."It's Morgan's turn, pay attention." You said, gently smacking your hand down on his thigh.

If he was riled up before, he was unbelievably undone at the slight sting from where your palm had just been. Light enough that it wasn't noticeable, but hard enough that it erupted a Shockwave through his body, centered on the location of the contact. He bit back the whimper threatening to escape his lips as he turned towards Morgan, trying desperately to not watch you from the corner of his eye.

"Never have I been a virgin at 24," Morgan said, beaming in his direction. Spencer took a big gulp from his glass of whiskey."You always do that one, I don't know why you think it's so funny, you're just trying to get me to drink" he said abashedly. He looked over at you, nervous for your reaction, but you seemed unfazed. "Hey, that's a wonderful gift to have, there's something so special about virgins. Maybe it's the idea that everything is new, but I like it. I love virgins." You said, taking a sip from your bottle, gently swaying. You had given up on never have I ever and just decided to drink whenever you felt like it. Maybe it was because you were tipsy, maybe it was the warm flush that decorated Spencer's cheeks, maybe it was the way he was looking at you with sultry, half-lidded eyes. You couldn't tell, but something made you want to find an excuse for you two to be alone.

"Geese, we seemed to have caught a succubus tonight." Morgan quipped."A suck-you-what now?" You said, cocking an eyebrow at him. " A succubus, it's a demon or supernatural entity in folklore, in female form, that appears in dreams to seduce men, usually through sexual activity. According to religious traditions, repeated sexual activity with a succubus can cause poor physical or mental health, even death. In modern representations, a succubus is often depicted as a beautiful seductress or enchantress, rather than as demonic or frightening." Spencer shot out. "Wow, even when you're drunk, your big brain keeps chuggin' along," you said, sloppily ruffling his hair "A beautiful seductress or enchantress, huh?" That time it came out low, inaudible to the others, but it pierced Spencer like a knife."Do you think that's accurate bout me?" you asked, staring up into his eyes, closer than you have been before. Spencer let a cartoonish gulping noise escape his lips as he held back his urge to lean into your touch.

"Ah, it's my turn," you said, leaning back into your spot in the circle and sadly, away from Spencer." Never have I ever done something naughty at our work," you said, looking straight at Spencer "I'll know if you're lying, I can sniff out a liar from a mile away," your cocky smirk leaking out of your mouth. Everyone except you and JJ took a shot."Wow, really you guys? Even you Spence? " JJ said in disbelief, looking around the circle."Never have I ever, my ass" Spencer mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, looking over at you, thinking about your pantieless escapades.

"Look at that, Doctor Reid, you need another drink, let me go fix you one," You said as you grabbed his glass in one hand, leaning and gripping hard into his shoulder with the other. It wasn't seen by the others, but between that and the fiery look in your eyes, it sent an obvious message,' keep your mouth shut or I'll shut it for you.' You used him as leverage to get up, nearly pushing him over as you gracefully stumbled to the hotel fridge. He knew what you meant, but he didn't care, your grip on him went straight into his imagination as he envisioned what that grip would feel like in other places. He kind of wanted to push his luck, just so he could see what he had in store.

And push it he did as you handed him the glass, reminding him that it was indeed his turn to play never have I ever. "Never have I ever slept with my professor," He said, obviously targeting you with a glint of mischief in his eyes."Oh yeah, well never have I ever been a virgin at 24." You said, swaying as you sat down."Morgan already said that, dummy. Never have I ever worn stupid dark red lipstick" He retorted, equally as drunk as you. At this point everyone else had zoned you two out and were focused on other things, refreshing their drinks, counting the ceiling tiles, humming a sloppy rendition of My My Miss American Pie, or in Penelope's case, all three."Yeah, well never have I ever been a complete and utter mommas boy!" You continued, the statement turning Spencer beet red. You watched him clench and unclench his hands, you had obviously struck a nerve. Just as you were about to apologize, he cut you off. "Never have I ever had nipple piercings!" He shouted, pointing at your chest, now drawing attention to the obvious balls framing your nipples that you had once been covered by your long-forgotten sweater.

As he said it, it felt like the world went in slow motion. You could see the instant regret on his face as you dropped your bottle in surprise. It had landed on Spencers discarded whiskey glass and both shattered, wine and whiskey mixing with glass to create a slurry on the ground between them. "Fuck! You Guys!" Morgan said, "You got it all over my clothes." "Me too," Echoed Elle as they both stood up in their soaked clothes. "I think that calls it a night." JJ said, closing the laptop on the image of an already sleeping Garcia." Bye you guys, sleep well," you called after them as you and Spencer rushed around looking for towels to clean up the alcohol with.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" Spencer cried as you dropped the last of the glass in the garbage can. As you rounded the corner, you saw Spencer pulling a rather large shard of glass that you must have missed out of his thumb, blood pooling at the tip. Without thinking, you crouched down and sucked his thumb into your mouth." A-ah! What... What are you doing!?" Spencer asked breathlessly, looking down at you with a deep hunger in his eyes. You pop off his thumb and squeeze it at the base, slowing the blood flow."Shut up," You said," This helps slow the bleeding. The sucking applies pressure. My mom used to do this for me... And no, do not psychoanalyze that." You said, wrapping your mouth around his finger, sucking to provide some pressure to slow the blood flow. You could taste the iron in your mouth, but you didn't mind, knowing you were helping your friend.

You were helping alright, helping in more ways than you would ever understand. "Yeah, like I'm the only one here with mommy issues," he said distractedly, too busy surveying your lips wrapped around him. You slapped your hand down on his thigh once more, eliciting a small whimper from him. He couldn't help it, you were a sight of beauty, you always were, but looking down on you right then, Spencer wanted to bottle that moment forever. The tops of your breasts peeking out from the top of your tank top, your eyes filled with a hazy glow, looking up at him to make sure he was ok, and your cheeks hollowing out around his thumb as you delicately sucked on his wound. It was as close as Spencer had ever gotten to anything sexual. He could feel your tongue swirling around the cut, lapping up the last couple drops of blood. He couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if it was another appendage and not his thumb. You sucked on his thumb one last time, harder than you had previously, and before he even knew what he was doing, his hips bucked up, rubbing his hard cock against his pajama pants, finally relieving his mounting orgasm.

You let go of his finger with a pop as your tongue trailed off of the underside of his thumb. Spencer looked anywhere but you, as a wet patch formed through his thin underwear and pajama pants. He hurried to cover it with his sweater, shooting up from his seated position."Um, Um, I'm g-gonna go shower and go to bed." He said, hurriedly scurrying over to where he had left his room key." Sorry partner, I saw Morgan accidentally grab both of your keys on the way out. He's probably asleep by now." You said languidly, leaning back to take in the sight of the soft boy in front of you. Totally flushed with heat, small beads of sweat peppering his forehead, his hands twiddling suspiciously into his sweater in an attempt to conceal crotch, trying and failing miserably to hide his rapidly cooling cum.

He whined a little, lighting a fire in you. He looked so thoroughly fucked out, and all you had done was suck his finger. You knew that you just had to play with him some more. "You know, you can use my shower, doctor." You said, and he let out a small sigh of relief, heading towards the bathroom. "There is one condition, though," You smirked coyly as he halted his motions, his body facing away from you. It was almost as if he was ready to run away at any moment. You walked over to him, slowly, taking your time to tease him. The silence hung heavy in the air as you looked up into his eyes questioningly, waiting for him to ask. "Wh-what is the condition." He said, unable to return your gaze, hands fisted in the hem of his sweater, pulling it down even further. You smirked, dipping your hands up and under his sweater, nearly brushing his spent cock before gently placing them on his bare stomach, just above his waistband. He sucked in a tight breath as you gently swirled your fingers in the short hair that lead from his belly button down to happier places." Before I ask, do you know about the color scale?" you said, fingers smoothing out over his little stomach." Um, k-kinda?" He said, heat flushing his cheeks."Green means good keep going, yellow means slow down, and red means stop right now, ok?" You said, looking up at him as he nods."Come on pretty boy, I need verbal confirmation. I need to know that you understand, got it." You said with a little pinch to his tummy. "Y-Yes, I understand!" He blurted out, standing stiff as a board." Good boy. Now, for my condition. You can shower if you show me what you're hiding." You said, leaning close enough that if Spencer breathed, your chests would meet each other. "What color, Spencer?" you said, languidly drawing lines up and down his torso with your nails."G-Green, Very green." He sputtered out, finally meeting your eyes."That's what I like to hear, sweet boy." You said before your fingers danced below his waistline, now somewhat crusty from his cum."W-wait!" He says, just as you were about to take him in your hand. You instantly stopped and looked up at him gently."We can stop here baby, it's not a problem." You said, beginning to remove your hand from his pants. He grabbed your hand through his pants, stopping your movement."It-It's not that. I don't want to stop, I just want... well..." He said and looked down shyly. "What do you want baby, anything," You smiled up at him. "Um, I haven't had my first kiss yet and I kinda... Well... I kinda..." He said, shuffling his feet, face beet red. Your eyebrows shot up quickly in surprise before letting out a gentle smile."Do you want a kiss, pretty boy?" You said, gently brushing the hair out of his face. He nodded, and you grabbed his chin, bringing him close. "Use your words, pretty boy. What do you want?" You whispered, breath gently ghosting Spencer's lips as he took you in up close. He could see every little pore and dimple of your skin and every color hidden in the depth of your eyes and he knew he needed to have you.

He shakily leaned forward, lips gently meeting yours, so light that if you hadn't seen his actions, you wouldn't have even known if you had touched. You moved your hand down to his throat, giving a light squeeze."Come on genius, use your words," you said as he whimpered. "Please, can I kiss you, please, please?" He begged, leaning into your touch, pleading for you to squeeze again. His efforts shoot straight to your heart. You indulged him in a kiss, not as spicy as the situation would permit, more of a sweet heat. He came in too hot and heavy at first, but you kissed him languidly, gently stroking his cheek to get him in the rhythm. His arms were straight out at his sides, hands clenched as if he was willing every muscle in his body to not touch you.

You let out a small laugh as you melted into his kiss, soft, puffy lips dancing across yours. "You know you can touch me," You said, pulling back, smiling at the smear of your lipstick, now staining his lips, and the endearing puppy dog eyes he was giving you. "Where can I touch you?" He whispered out as if he were telling a secret. "Wherever you want, baby. Wherever your heart desires." You replied, bringing your arms up to wrap loosely around his neck, pulling your bodies closer. He was as stiff as a board as his hands flitted around trying to find a good place to land. He finally settled on weaving his arms around your waist and up to cradle your neck, gently carding his fingers through the hair that fell at the nape of your neck. There was something so sweet in the way he cradled your body with feather-light touches as if you would disappear like smoke if he lingered too long. You reveled in the feeling of you two pressed together, slightly uncomfortable at the stiff material of his pajama pants on your stomach.

"Hey sweetheart," You said, pulling away as he chased after your lips, "I'm feeling kinda sweaty from the day, would you like to join me in the shower? What color?" "G-green, yes please." He said, tentatively pressing a kiss to your collarbone, exposed as the strap of your tank top had fallen down. You unwound from him, taking his hand delicately in your own, instantly missing the warmth his body provided.

You lead him into the bathroom, carefully stepping over the wine-soaked towels discarded on the floor before shutting the door and turning to face him. "I don't want to take this too fast for you because I know it's all very new so always tell me how you are feeling and if everything is ok. I want this to be good for you baby, ok?" You said, squeezing his hand that was still intertwined with yours. "Ok, th-thank you," He said shyly.

"Now, what do you want to do first? You're probably pretty uncomfortable in those pants, do you want me to take them off you?" You said, hooking one of your fingers into his waistband, pulling on in slightly creating a much-needed separation between his sticky cock and his uncomfortable pants."Y-Yes please" He said as you turned on the shower, allowing it to warm up in preparation for cleaning him off before turning back to him. You gently grabbed the hem of his sweater and pulled it over his head, leaving him shirtless in front of you.

Lean muscles were hidden under a layer of peachy soft skin highlighting the gentle trail of dark curly hair leading from his belly button down past his pants. His arms curled around himself as he watched your eyes carefully, ready for some sort of judgment. "I know I'm not really that s-strong or anything but I can work on it-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss right above his belly button, startling him. You looked up sweetly into his eyes and gave him a soft smile, saying "You are so beautiful, Spencer. Morgan calls you pretty boy, but he truly has no idea. I would have you no other way than you are right now."

You gently peppered his chest with feather-light kisses, making him blush. He finally understood why people liked hickeys because as you trailed down his chest, the little wine red lipstick you had left on your lips left marks trailing down his chest. Some part of him wished they were permanent, showing off to all that could see, and they would know exactly who he belonged to. You dipped your hand into his waistband, asking, "What color?" "Green, very green," he choked out as your breath ghosted across his abdomen. You looked so beautiful, kneeled on the floor in front of him, taking care of him so gently and treating him so sweetly that he could feel his cock begin to harden again.

You looked up into his eyes as you pulled his pants down. He let out a soft sigh of relief as he was uncaged from his unfortunate trouser situation. His cock flipped down out of his pants, nearly smacking you in the forehead as you looked up at it in awe. Even though it was only semi-hard, it was bigger than any you had ever seen before. Spencer looked down at you shyly "it's not that much, I-I know but I've been researching techniques to make up for it in order to give sufficient pleasure for you- I mean for whatever partners I may have, not that I am saying that I won't please you, I dream of pleasuring you! ... I'm digging myself a hole aren't I."He rambled, rubbing the back of his neck worriedly. "Spencer, you are huge. Way more than I have ever had before. See?" You said, standing up, gently lifting his cock in your hand, measuring it against your stomach.

Maybe Spencer hadn't noticed because it was proportionate to his body and his big hands, but being held in your petite hands and measured against your stomach, he finally did see how much he would fill you up. The tip of his dick just barely reached past the gems that decorated your belly button piercing. "W-Woah." He said growing harder at the thought of pushing so deep into you. He looked up to your face, which was preoccupied with looking down at how far he would reach up in you.

Tearing your eyes away from him and up to his own, you flushed, knowing that he had caught you staring. "What would you like me to do next?" You spoke softly. Despite being the only two in the room, you two both talked in hushed tones, worrying that anything more than that would burst the delicate bubble you two had created. "Can we match?" He said, and you instantly understood him, despite the odd vernacular. You began to slip off your shirt, but he stopped you with an arm on your shoulder. "C-Can I do it?" He said shyly. "Of course, pretty baby," you barely get out before he drifted his hands under your tank.

He slowly lifted your top over your head as he took in the soft smooth feeling of your skin against his, goosebumps pricking up wherever his fingers trailed. You stood in front of him, shirtless as he took in your form. He had imagined what your breasts would look like. Nipples always hard due to your piercings, what your jewelry would look like, but nothing could prepare him for the glimmering moonstone gems that adorned your nipples and navel. Everything matched exactly, including the delicate necklace you wore around your neck.

The only thing he liked more than the perfection of your body was the features that made you, you. Some might call them imperfections, but to Spencer, all he could see in you was beauty. The gentle bruises on your skin from tangles with unsubs, the soft stretch marks that adorned your hips like little valleys and winding rivers, the slight blemishes, and hairs. He loved it because you were the embodiment of the confidence he wished for in himself. While he was always nervous about his body and how others perceived him, you loved yourself for exactly who you were, and you loved him for exactly who he was.

He pulled down your pants, gently following the twist and turn of the stretch marks as they winded down your hips, making sure to kneel down to pull them all the way off of you as you delicately stepped out, gently grabbing onto his hair to keep your balance as you swayed. He moaned softly at the gentle tug of your fingers while he stared up at you in awe. You took his hand in yours, coaxing him to stand.

You both stood there, taking in each other's forms for a moment, hands still connected as if by a thread at the pinky before you spoke. "We shouldn't waste water. Let me clean you off, sweetheart." He nodded before following after you into the gentle spray of the shower, steam now filling the room. He marveled at the way that the water droplets cascaded down your body, gently running down your curves. "Come here," you said, pulling him into a gentle embrace under the hot water.

Your two bodies pressed gently together, and Spencer couldn't help but think that you were molded for each other. Not in the way that a sculptor may stick two unmatched pieces of clay together with slip, more like one rock that had been split by the earth finally returning together. Something about your touch felt like home as you gently cradled him under the water.

He was so enthralled in your being that he didn't notice you gently scrubbing him with a washcloth until the scent of your body wash permeated the air. You gently scrubbed his back, washing off the sweat of the day and replacing it with you. He melted into you as your hands reached up, lathering his hair with shampoo. He wasn't sure if it was because he realized you should probably be getting washed too or because he desperately wanted to ride his hands along the planes of your body, but he decided to lather up his hands and wash you as well. "You are such a good boy. Thank you for cleaning me up" You said, resting your head gently on his chest, softly swirling the soap around his back, now finished scrubbing all you could from that angle, waiting to turn him around.

He moved carefully, avoiding your butt, still too nervous to touch. "Make sure you get everything, sweet boy. I like to be clean when I go to bed." You said, gently grabbing his hand and pulling it down to cup your butt. He inhales a sharp breath as he indulged in a gentle squeeze, continuing to wash you. He washed your back but his hands would occasionally drift down to your ass, growing more confident as he unknowingly rocked into you slightly with every squeeze, letting out soft keening noises.

You peeled yourself off of him as he rutted into the air, whining at the loss of friction. "Slow down, naughty boy. Bad boys don't get to touch. Are you a bad boy?" you asked as you placed a finger on the tip of his cock, swirling it in the precum pooling there despite the water's efforts to wash it off. "No, no! I'm a good boy! You're just so pretty, and you feel so good, and you smell so nice, and I wanna touch you, and I want you to touch me, please." He blurted out, looking at you with hungry eyes, begging for more friction. "Where do you want to touch me baby?" you asked as his eyes raked over your body, taking in all of his options. "I want to touch your boobies and your- your-" "My what? You can say it, naughty boy." You cut him off in his stammering. "Your pussy, I want to touch your pussy." He said, the hot water spreading the blush from his cheeks down his chest, tingeing his cock with a pretty pink hue. "What naughty words from such a pretty boy. You can touch-" he cut you off, lunging towards your body before you grabbed him by the throat, squeezing experimentally. Not too hard, not too soft. He moaned, and you felt the vibrations traveling up your hands."Let me finish what I was saying. Naughty boys don't get to touch. They get spanked." You said as he mewled." What I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted was that you can touch, AFTER I wash you and after you finish washing me. Only after, you got it?" you said, squeezing a little tighter. "Y-yes." he croaked out. "Good boy," you replied.

You washed out the shampoo in his hair, replacing it with conditioner as he did the same for you. You squirted more soap onto your washcloth, preparing to test him. You took the washcloth in your hand, slowly working over his legs, arms, and chest, teasingly brushing over his overspent cock before returning to cleaning him. He washed you thoroughly, taking care to wash your legs before making sure your stomach and belly button piercing were thoroughly cleaned. Finally, he reached up to wash the leftover makeup off of your face. He touched you like a porcelain doll, worried that you would crack under even the slightest pressure, making you giggle. He flinched, thinking he hurt you, but you grabbed his face in your hands, delivering him a kiss that covered his face in soap.

You both stood there, laughing for a second, relishing the moment before you let out a shy smile. "You can touch my chest now, but make sure you clean my piercings carefully." He looked down at your chest, and now that he'd been given permission, he didn't really know what to do. You could see the puzzled look on his face so you grabbed one of his soapy hands in yours and brought it to your breast. He squeezed experimentally, and you let out a gentle moan. You had been keeping in your arousal to draw out his teasing, but you couldn't hold yourself back as you felt his large hands grasp around your chest and roll your nipple in his fingers.

There was a sweet dichotomy in the harshness of his grasp on your boob, coupled with the gentle twist of your nipple. It was as if he was worried to hurt your piercings, so he made up for it in his grasp. You brought the washcloth down to his cock, hard against his stomach, and began to work him. He whined at the harsh material. "I need to clean you up, baby. You still have a cummy cock. If you beg hard enough when I'm done, I will touch you." You said into his ear as he rested his head on your shoulder.

He was overstimulated, and you could tell, so you decided you wouldn't take as long as you wanted to tease him. But you would still draw it out for your own pleasure. He was bucking and mewling into you as you roughly got him off. It shot you straight to your core, the heat from the shower mixed with his grasp on you, physically and visually, had you closer than you wanted, and deep down you just wanted him to touch you.

When you deemed him clean enough you let the rag drop to the floor. "Beg" you moaned out. "Please, please touch me, I want your hand on me, that's all I want." He whined, bucking into the air. You took pity on him, grasping him with your soap-covered hand. He hissed as your soft touch replaced the rough rag and you could tell he was close. "Touch me, Spencer." You said and his hand shot to your core. His tentative moves giving way to a natural confidence. As he slipped a hand between your folds he could feel you dripping with desire. "O-Oh my god," was all he could stammer out before sinking two of his fingers into your depths, thumb circling your clit. You knew his fingers were long, and you had even fantasized about this exact moment, but nothing could prepare you for his actual length. He had said he did research but that was proven by how quickly he found your g spot and clit. You doubled over in pleasure as his fingers thoroughly fucked you out.

"Spencer, I'm so close, baby. Be a good boy and make me cum." You said, slumping against his shoulder, rubbing yourself against his hand. "Mommy, I'm cumming." He said, looking into your eyes as his body shuttered. His words ricochetted around in your brain, sending you over the edge as you cum all down his hand. You bit into his shoulder to muffle your scream, just as he matched you, cumming down your hand.

You came down from your high as Spencer nearly collapsed onto you. You took extra care in making sure he was all clean before helping him out of the shower and into a towel. He leaned against you the whole time as you got him ready for bed. You forced him to brush his teeth before dragging him to bed.

He sat at the edge, eyes bleary with sleep, taking in the events of the day. You sat behind him, gently toweling off his hair before brushing it and putting lotion on his body. He leaned into your touch, appreciating being cared for, feeling as if everything had been a dream. "C-Can I sleep here? I mean Morgan locked me out and I don't have pants and-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss."Of course, sweetheart, do you want to cuddle? It's ok if you don't or if you want this to be a one-time thing, it's all up to you, baby." You said, gently sweeping his hair out of his face as he looked up with eyes the size of dinner plates. "We can do this more than once? You'll let me? For real?" He asked. "Only if you want to sweetheart. This is all about you." You said, giving him a small smile tinged with a slight sadness. "That's not very fair, I want it to be about you too. What do you want?"

The question knocked you off guard. You're not used to people asking what you want. Usually, people just take and give none in return. The fact that Spencer Reid, your adorable virgin coworker was asking you what you wanted with such a sincere look, caused tears to prick into your eyes. "No one has asked me that in a long time," you smiled, "I would love to do this, and more again with you Spencer. Whenever you want." He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you down so you were lying next to each other on the bed. "Whenever we want" He corrected, cuddling into you.

You surveyed the bite make you left on his shoulder, running your hand over it. "Sorry for marking you up, I didn't mean to hurt you." You said softly as he blushed. "I-I was actually wondering... well... could you maybe give me a hickey? I like that you marked me." He said. You obliged him, giving him long kisses and sucks, gradually working up your force until a large purple bruise had formed on his collar bone. He was gently moaning the whole time, but you didn't want to work him up again as he had already cum twice that night and you didn't think he could handle more. He looked down at it as you pulled away, and you could see a question lingering on his mind.

"What's up?" you asked, smoothing his hair with your hand. "You said you hadn't been asked what you want in a long time, and I was wondering, well... who gave you your piercings?" he asked tentatively and you laughed." You have been reading my book too much, how many chapters have you read?" You said and he looked up at you surprised."You knew? and... well... only 3 chapters. I didn't want to pry into your private life." He said. "You just pried enough to know I want to get pierced by someone?" You asked raising an eyebrow. Before he could get an excuse out, you cut him off. "Well for a genius, you obviously didn't read it that carefully. I said I WOULD like to be pierced during sex, meaning I have not before. These are just standard piercings from a piercing shop, not a big deal, I just like the way they look." You said and he let out a sigh of relief. "Why? d'you get jealous?" you questioned him. He looked down and nodded shyly.

"I can be a lot of firsts for you but if you play your cards right, you can be a lot of firsts for me too. You already gave me a first tonight. You called me mommy. No one's done that before but it was really hot. I liked it a lot." You said matter of factly. "But that is a conversation for another day. It is 2 am and we need to be on a flight at 7:30, so let's get some sleep." You said, turning off the lights and cuddling up close to him. In a matter of seconds, you both were asleep, tangled into each other's arms, both of you feeling, for once, safe and sound.

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Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Well wasn't that a doozy. I had so much fun writing that and I think it paid off for sure. Shoot me a message if you want to be added to my beloved tag list, speaking of which.

@spencer-reids-slut @ya-triedit @reidstoychest @flipperpenguins @thatsonezesty13 @jbbarnes-loki @big-galaxy-chaos

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #sub spencer #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #sub!spencer #pervspence #pervespencer #perve spencer reid #perv spencer reid

[thisfanisgonesorry]

Marrying medic fic?🥺 wedding night mayhap s?? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

hehe this tickles my brain methinks , rlly hope u enjoy this anon <3 [part 2] cw // pure fluff man, ive never been to a wedding before lol, i did so much research for it, i decided to keep it sfw bc it was just too cute to make sexy :) + miss pauling is the only reason the event didnt fall apart, reference to the comic lore.

<3 I stood at the end of the aisle as I watched Ludwig stand in the middle waiting for me, he was anxiously looking around to see the other mercs with a few other friends and family though it was kept scarce. Travish sat on the piano, playing a majestic soft song as I slowly began to walk down towards the man I love, the one I’m about to marry. It’s nerve wracking, really. Sure, without a doubt, we both knew we’d spend the rest of our lives together with or without a wedding but it was still terrifying. Slowly getting pulled away from my thoughts as Ludwig, unsurprisingly but also as a failed surprise, had his doves make the scenery look like it was unreal, which meant a lot since this was a small wedding with nothing over the top. Given his job, it’s not like we had much of a choice; though there weren’t many complaints to be had. The location was nice and the thought put into it made up for it, though I’m sure just going down to sign the papers and leave married would have worked just as well. Since it was a little under planned, there was no seating arrangement, no bridesmaids (unless you count Miss Pauling) or best men (and unless you count Misha), but it was representative of our friends and lives. Reaching the middle of the aisle with a harsh stop as I turned to look at Ludwig, standing in a black suit with a team coloured tie. “You look beautiful.” He whispered, hooking our arms and continuing to walk down the aisle. “The doves were a little cliche.” I smiled. He looked back at me, pretending to be offended. “What? Everyone always wants doves at their wedding. Didn’t think you would too.” “Took me a week to teach them that!” He quietly joked, before reaching the minister, who has his book ready to read from. Miss Pauling organised most of the wedding, including hiring the said minister, who looked young and spoke professionally. He welcomed everyone as he read out slowly, stating the purpose of the ceremony though it was more than obvious, before turning to me, “Your vows?” I pulled out a small slip of paper, glancing over the traditional vows. “I take you, Ludwig, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health;” I cleared my throat, “Especially if for any reason you want to dismember me for your science—” Ludwig glared at me with a soft smile, “Continue the vows.” “But I also take you to love and to cherish, till death do us part.” I snickered at the ‘death’, given the incident with Mundy, death would not be what parted us. Ludwig smiled adoringly, before pulling out his own ‘traditional’ vows from his front pocket, adding his own snarky comment about promising to always reattach my limbs, unless he doesn’t want to. He also struggled to keep a straight face while saying ‘till death do us part.' Before the minister could ask for the rings, Miss Pauling rushed up with them both, stunning him before he began his speech about how significant the rings are as Ludwig took my hand as he began reciting the words that the minister told him to. “I give you this ring, as a symbol of our love, for today and tomorrow,” He spoke through his thick accent, though it seemed to roll off his tongue as if he wasn’t being told what to say, “and know that my love is present, even when I am not.” Once the ring was placed on my hand, the minister glanced towards me as I repeated the actions, taking his hand, reciting the words and placing his respective ring on his hand. The minister gestured towards the both of us once again, “Do you, Ludwig, take y/n to be your lawfully wedded wife?” He tried to contain a wide smile, “I do.” “And do you, y/n, take Ludwig to be your lawfully wedded husband?” This is it, this is the moment that defines the rest of our semi-immortal lives. “Yes, I do.” “By the authority vested in me by the state of New Mexico, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He spoke, giving a soft smile to Ludwig; “You may kiss the bride.” He was giddy and full of energy, he pulled me into an excited hug while

kissing me, spinning us around in his childlike energy as his large body engulfed me wholly into the embrace.

“Ich liebe dich, meine frau.” He smiled; I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy, his words barely audible over the sound of everyone’s applause and cheers. “Thank you.” “I love you too.” I said, slightly struggling against his grip. “Can you please let me go, seriously, I want to get out of this dress, it’s very uncomfortable.” He let out a slight chuckle as he unwrapped his arms from the tight embrace, as we walked into the building and began the recessional.

#asks #fluff #medic tf2 #team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 fluff #tf2 #medic tf2 fluff #medic x you #medic x reader #medic tf2 x you #medic tf2 x reader #tf2 medic #tf2 medic x you #tf2 medic x reader #marriage #wedding #medic fluff