#start out being able to clean but not wanting to and end up wanting to clean but not being able to 😔

[maleyanderecafe]

Courtin' Cowboys (Visual Novel)

Created by: Mr Fishess, jd

Genre: Horror

I know this game came out a while ago, but I finally was able to play it and man is it fun. It reminds me of a smaller scale DOL or even something like The Snake's Taken a Spouse. There are three yanders that are in this game, though it definitely follows more of a porn game logic for yanderes. I will explain that in a bit. This game has a lot of violence and sex, and is r18, so please be wary if you do play it.

The MC basically starts out staying at a town in Summerfield. They rent a motel there. The game allows you to meet people at the saloon, the store, the sheriff's office, out in the pastures and in the woods. You can also decide to leave at any point as well. There are a lot of things you can do in the game besides interact with other characters, including buying and cooking food, going fishing, foraging and catching snakes for money. You can also buy different outfits and customize your looks.

While there are many characters, we will be going over the three yanderes in the game, Dijon, Jak and Will. I'm not sure if I was able to get everything for them, but I was able to at least get all of the endings, so we'll start with that. A lot of the endings usually involve them competing with other yandere characters so we'll cover those as well.

Dijon is the farmer that lives in the pasture. When first meeting him, he will talk about how he can't tell if he's missing sheep because he can't count higher than 10. After helping him, we go hunt for his lost sheep, which has run off into the woods and then go into the farm to have sex with him (I finally get to be the dom in one of these games, heck yes). Most of his endings generally involve sleeping with another character, only for Dijon to kidnap you and bring you back to his farm, where I guess you can just leave afterwards. Each time, it seems like he believes you are like a sheep, having strayed too far from home, getting a bit more paranoid every time that you leave. He can do this upwards of about three times. After sleeping with the fourth person, Dijon will get angry and chain the MC up in the barn, before the MC is able to escape. Dijon runs after them only to hear a loud noise. Afterwards it seems Dijon kind of just continues what he's doing as if nothing has happened.

Jak is the drunk that hangs out in the bar. If you flirt with him before buying him a drink, the two of you can have sex outside in a camp. If you sleep with enough other characters, Jak will actually kill the last person you slept with before being sent to jail. From what I remember, he is also one of the main characters in the creator's other game, Lover's Trophy, though I have yet to play that game.

Will is a clown man that is found in the woods. The MC will end up trying to chase after him finding a bunch of bones set up in a way that resembles a tea party. Depending on options, Will can either end up killing the MC or growing obsessed when the two talk. We learn that he lives in the woods and wears clown makeup because he's afraid of social interactions and wants to make it easier to approach people (thus the clown makeup). We also see he's sort of the groundskeeper of the woods, burying bodies to let them be eaten clean to the bone. After talking to him and not dying, he ends up stalking the MC. During one of the other interactions when the MC is investigating a robbery, they talk to the dancer, Magnolia. If the MC brings up Will as the possible thief, Magnolia will defend Will, stating their history together as childhood friends before drifting apart. In another ending, Will is able to save the MC from the beast in the woods called the Bastard, a man who basically acts like an unkillable animal and wanders the woods. There is also an event where Will sneaks into the MC's room at night and kind of noncons them. This is a random event.

There are two competitions that occur with the yanderes in the game, one being Jak vs Dijon and the other being Dijon vs Will.

When sleeping with both Jak and Dijon, the two of them will end up attempting to kidnap the MC during the night. Upon waking up, the two will end up forcing the MC to choose one of them. Choosing Dijon ends with Jak attempting to shoot him, with the MC having the choice to push him out of the way, thus getting themselves killed. Otherwise, Dijon will be shot and Jak kidnaps the MC into the forest to noncon them. The MC can run away, causing the Bastard to come and kill Jak. Choosing Jak will cause Dijon to sadly walk away, allowing Jak to take care of the MC. Jak will end up shooting Dijon regardless and once again drag them back to camp to noncon them. Through gun play, I believe the MC can still be shot and killed, and the same bastard ending will still apply.

When interacting with both Dijon and Will, the two of them will end up the MC's room at night. The MC will wake up to the two of them talking at the end of the bed. At first it seems to be some sort of banter, the two insulting each other's ages and their weaknesses before Dijon attempts to take out a gun and kill Will. If the MC warns Will and then takes the gun, they can attempt to shoot as a warning, to which the bullet will miss and end up killing the MC instead, or they will simply threaten them and they will leave. If they don't warn Will, Dijon will end up shooting Will and dragging his dead body out, whereas if you do, Will can end up stabbing and killing Dijon.

As a whole, the game is very well put together and has a lot of features. You can basically date every character except three of them (that being the innkeeper, Mortom and the Bastard), each with it's own CGs and endings, along with various mini games, and an entire cooking and inventory system. On a technical basis, this game is done very well and it is pretty fun running around and doing a lot of these tasks. Still, as much as the individual components are very fun, I feel like there's not really any reason to do any of the mini games for the plot. You can basically ignore the entire portion of it if you are simply just seeing what the character plots would be like, which is kind of unfortunate. The cooking system is supposed to tie in with the stamina system, which is a good idea, but talking to people doesn't deplete stamina, only gathering items. In this way, it feels very disjointed from the rest of the game, as not even stuff like money is really needed to play. I think at least an easy fix for the money system would be similar to how DOL forces the player to pay Bailey, so in this game, you would be forced to pay the innkeeper money for every day that you stay there (which, you know, does make sense if you want to stay at the inn) thereby forcing you to spend time getting money and having to cook food to be able to get energy to make money. Unfortunately with the implementation that I see at least, it seems to be lacking in attempting to make a game play loop with these cool mini games. While it's not the worst thing in the world, I think it does make these minigames kind of pointless since you can basically completely ignore them.

Storywise, while I do think it's very nice that you are able to get more of a solid look at a lot of characters, I do feel like there isn't really anything satisfying for the end of a lot of them. When they are killed, there is no reaction for most of the other characters (with the exception of a handful of them). It's hard to say where certain events will happen unless you have a guide and while there is one on the fandom page, there is none on the itchio or steam page that helps you (which is unfortunate for people like me who generally rely on a walkthrough to try to get everything). I think that was the point of having a lot of characters all with their own story, but I feel like there could have been more to place more of an arc for each them.

Dijion as a yandere is mostly pretty light. He actually is probably the most harmless out of all of them considering that he only really kidnaps the player when sleeping with another character (unless it's with Jak or Will). He seems to delusionally believe that the MC is a sort of "lost sheep", which is why he keeps bringing them back to the barn. It is unfortunate that he doesn't actually end up trying to harm or even properly trap the MC (well, he tries, but they run away again, with seemingly no consequence). He does manage to kill Will in one of the endings, however, it's strange to me that he wasn't able to do so with other characters such as Jak or even any of the other characters that the MC might end up sleeping with. Still, I think I do quite like Dijion as a character, he's very puppy like, similar to a dog herder who is trying to get his sheep back. His running gag of not being able to count (especially when Will calls him out on it) is pretty funny, though I wish it was brought up more.

Jak is probably the most extreme out of the yandere characters considering that he is the most violent and most forceful of the three. When choosing between Jak and Dijon, Jak will outright shoot Dijon if the MC doesn't protect him and he can kill either Magnolia or Jade as well, sending him straight to jail as well as fighting and possibly killing the Bastard in one of the endings. I'm not sure how close he is to his counterpart in Lover's Trophy, but he is very violent in this version, with it often leading to his own detriment, like when he is killed by the Bastard after being taken when choosing between Dijon and him, or when he is jailed for killing either of the girls. He also definitely has a very intimidating presence with the game emphasizing just how tall he is and how generally strong he is. He definitely feels like he fits very well in this type of murder horror type game given his general behavior and intimidating presence.

Will as a yandere generally just stalks the player, and doesn't have nearly as many endings as Jak or Dijion. Still, I do think the scenes we do get give a bigger impression of what he's actually like. From what I've seen, although we generally don't see him in the game, it is implied that he stalks the player quite often, as we see him save the MC from the bastard and sneak into the MC's place at night. Given that he's rather aloof and is uncomfortable with most human interactions, it does make sense that we barely ever see him, only really gaining more insight from Magnolia as the two seem to be friends. I kind of wish that we had more personal encounters with him like maybe hanging out with him with his bone collection (thing), but I do think even with the little information that we do learn about him he's a pretty solid character. Plus if you talk to him wrong, he straight up kills you which is kind of entertaining.

In terms of what I mean by porn game yandere, I basically have to turn again to DOL for this. While I get it's not really fair comparing two of these games as they are going for different things, what I mean in this case is that in general, yanderes are not usually okay with their love interests sleeping with other characters. This usually results in murder of some sort or at least some sort of separation of their lover with the person that they're sleeping with. However, in games like DOL, while Kylar and Eden can get jealous or otherwise kidnap the MC, they aren't allowed to kill the other characters that they sleep with and in essence, the MC can just kind of have a poly relationship with all of the love interests if they want. While I'm not saying poly yanderes can't exist, they generally have certain specifications on how they act (at least in my opinion). Obviously for gameplay wise, if the player is not into any of the yandere characters and ends up sleeping with with by accident or on purpose, it would be a big pain if they ended up murdering or getting rid of the other characters gameplay wise, and considering both of the characters, it also doesn't seem fair to also just exclude them just because you are allowed to sleep with other characters, which is why I kind of call it porn game logic since for the sake of not making the gameplay bad for the player, I will make an exception for it in this context. Anyways, going back to Courtin' Cowboys, while unlike DOL you can have characters killed, they don't usually get that far. A good example is with Jak who is able to kill one of the characters (either Magnolia or Jade if you sleep with them) before getting captured (which is fine). Meanwhile a character like Dijon seems pretty light, having the player sleep with three different characters only leads to Dijon basically telling the player not to get lost again after being kidnapped and Dijon just...letting them go. Will also doesn't have that much yandere actions either considering that outside of the versus, protecting the MC from the bastard and the random encounter of him breaking into the inn and sleeping with you.

Still despite what kind of possible tweaks and missing things I have for Courtin' Cowboys, it is undoubtedly a fun game. There is so much in it that I probably didn't even get to see, plus every time you play you can have a different experience. The customization and general aesthetic of being a cowboy is really nice and the fact that you have all these minigames in the first place is very impressive along with the sheer amount of characters that you can date/interact with is very cool. It's a great entry into the murder sim type genre with a bunch of fun yanderes to boot. If you haven't played it yet, I would highly recommend it.

[purplesoulcollection]

Unnatural Love

Part 2 Synopsis : Name has being transmigrated into the world of I'm Not That Kind Of Talent without ever reading the novel. She's not being reincarnated as a human but as a devil as well. Hi there! I want to let you know that this fanfiction story isn't solely my creation. I borrowed the concept from @quqiwo2. I haven't actually read the novel either, just some spoiler to the end.

I hope you'll excuse my spelling and grammar mistake, because English isn't my first language

It turns out that being able to adapt to being a servant in the demon king's castle is not an easy thing.

Indeed, the main job of the servants in this castle is to clean the very large castle. But not many servants were hired because most of those living in this castle were the Demon King's combat soldiers.

So that the number of servants recruited was also very small and I have to clean a lot of places at once.

Starting from the dining room, the meeting room for the army commander and the demon king, the hallway in this large palace. It's definitely makes me tired to only think about that.

But my main job to survive in this castle, is to not offend anyone in this castle.

but that's not what makes me say it's not easy to be a servant here

Because here it turns out that lowly demons are treated arbitrarily and punished for no apparent reason.

All the demons, especially the soldiers I met, always mocked me and looked down on me as they pleased.

Lower demons are a lower caste than them because they cannot use magic.

Their behavior really reminds me of the bullying that occurs on earth.

They think because I'm a lowly devil they can hit and kick me as they please.

Even though I'm in a demon body, that doesn't mean this demon body is stronger than my human body.

So after I was abandoned by the soldiers who made me an outlet for their frustration. I got up to sit up and coughed.

I also hugged my stomach which had been kicked many times by the soldiers while groaning in pain.

'I hope the organs in this devil's body are not injured.'

I hope no one will pass by here. To witness the moment I needed privacy after being beaten.

but of course my prayers were not being fulfilled.

KLACK, KLACK, KLACK!

The sound of shoe soles rubbing against the floor echoed in this quiet hallway.

As the echo stopped, I looked up and I saw him.

A person with human skin and albino white hair and red eyes that sparkle like blood. the color of her hair and eyes really reminds me of a white rabbit.

He was stunned to see me, I think he didn't want to see anyone else in this hallway.

Unfortunately I'm here.

Humans in the Devil's castle. Reminds me of the one human being allowed to live here.

Demon Arut, a human who is the captain of army 0, the strongest warrior of the demon king, is considered the strongest warrior after the devil.

The person who was said to be the demon king's secret weapon.

Somehow there could be a human who could enter the devil's castle and obtain a higher title than me.

I, who in fact am a human but use the form of a demon, am even weaker than humans in this world.

He and I stared at each other before I finally broke eye contact and tried to stand up leaning against the wall.

'I have to get out of here right now. Even though he is human that doesn't mean he is my ally here.' I thought to myself while trying to run away, not wanting to greet the captain of troop 0.

"Are you the waiter here...?" Mr. Demon asked me, which unfortunately I had to answer.

"That's right, Mr. Demon. Is there anything I can help you with?"

In my heart I was already cursing him, why did he have to ask me. I have to answer this as a primary obligation as a true servant here.

If I don't answer and he reports it, the end of my life will be executed. On the grounds of negligence in prioritizing the captain of the troop commander.

"Why are you... moaning in pain?"

Why is this Mr Demon asking this question, has he never seen a demon being hit, maybe most of them were killed immediately on the spot.

"Just took a few… ordinary blows. It's nothing surprising for a lowly devil like me."

"Lowly?"

"I'm just a demon who doesn't have magic powers like a human. This is normal treatment for those in the lower class."

"Like humans, demons?" Mr. Demon's face looked astonished. what's wrong with him? Is he sick?

"What's the matter, Mr. Demon?"

"Don't you feel insulted to be considered human, right? You're not human, right?"

Of course I didn't feel offended. I'm a real human being. but I couldn't possibly answer him like that.

"Being considered a human in this demon castle isn't too bad, Mr Demon. Even though I had to take a hit here, my safety is still guaranteed."

"Guaranteed from where?"

"The butler here still attends us every day. If you disappear then the perpetrator will pay because servant jobs are not often recruited. As far as I know there have been no cases of missing servants so I'm still safe."

"That's not a guarantee at all." Mr Demon's face expressed his disapproval. I actually also agree with that.

"Better to be there than not to be there at all." I confirm the existing facts. Not wanting to having a fear of being disappeared suddenly.

The demon master's disapproving face finally turned into resignation before he finally said, "You are... so strange?"

"Am I weirder than you, Mr Demon. The chosen human of the demon king. Of course I will look much more normal than you."

"But you look like a human," said the Mr Demon to me. I didn't expect that he could guess it this easily.

"Where is the perception come from, Mr Demon?"

"From your flattering attitude."

"It's an honor for me to be recognized by Mr. Demon. Have you strayed from your room, Mr. Demon? Because as far as I know, you have never left your room since entering this devil's palace."

"Of course I know where my room is. But I don't think there's anything wrong with you accompanying me."

'Ah, he's lost.'

"It is my honor to be able to accompany you, Mr Demon."

While walking, I was actually racking my brain about where this Mr Demon room was.

As far as I know, he is in the same area as the other troop captain's room.

Hopefully this demon master can realize where his own room is.

But unfortunately, that was just wishful thinking. He didn't even realize where his room was, he was also looking around even though we had been walking for a while.

I finally had to start a conversation so I could buy some time.

"Mr demon is noble in the human world, right?" I asked first about the status of this human being.

I'm also looking for information about the human world.

"Yes, I come from a noble family. So what?" I thought he wouldn't answer my question. But apparently he was willing to answer it.

"Nothing, I've only heard that nobles are rich in the human world, right?"

"Nobles are indeed rich in the human world. They gain wealth and spend their own wealth." The demon master's gaze became unfocused, perhaps he was remembering the past.

"Then Mr Demon himself is how high his noble title is."

"At first it was just standard. Considering I was just a soldier of a human king. But after becoming a hero, my status increased."

"Is there really any kind of nobility in humans?"

"king, duke, marquess, count, viscount, baron."

It turns out that in this world, the noble title is the same as in my previous world.

But this means that this Mr Demon doesn't have a high enough title but has a powerful position.

And here I thought...

Let's think carefully about this person's position if we think this world is a novel. He was noble, became a hero after the war, became the captain of the demon king's zero squad after he showed his potential to demon lord.

 Isn't it likely that this Mr Demon is one of the protagonists?

Does this world have female protagonists too? I'm so curious...

Unbeknownst to me, this Mr Demon was also analyzing me.

He wondered why I was asking for information that was of no use to her who is a devil.

"Waiter, what's your name?"

"My name is, Mr Demon? I don't have a name for that. Having a name is an honor for a lowly demon."

My words this time seemed to push his anger button. he shouted "A person has the right to be given a name no matter his caste."

After he finished shouting, he took a hasty breath. did I just suppress the trauma?

"It turns out you are very nice person, Mr Demon." I said with a chuckle.

I kept smiling at the Mr Demon while saying, "I know that for a fact. But this is the first time someone said that to me."

Mr Demon only looked away and rubbed his hand against his neck before he started speaking, "If you having no name, will you accept a name from me?"

Am I now a pet that can be named like in the games? Just because I don't have a name?

But… it's better than nothing...

"If you please, Mr. Demon, what is my name?"

"Adele"

To Be Continued

[moe-broey]

Idk I also just hate the future actually. My ass is Always living in the past or simply day to day 💪💪💪

[theygender]

Man getting old sucks. You finally get to the point where you want to do shit like deep clean the bathroom and you're looking forward to the day when you'll finally have time to get it done and then once you do finally get a chance to do it you throw your back out cleaning the tub. A cruel irony from whoever is in charge of my spine

[arolesbianism]

I am thinking up ideas for one of the ancients I drew and while I'm very much still in the brainstorming phase I am going to need to design a new iterator oc now because doomed toxic yuri is real

[deadsetobsessions]

Damian Wayne was like a duckling. A violent, stab-happy, danger-prone duckling, yes, but a duckling all the same. Which means when Danny almost got stabbed by a sleepy, instinct driven Damian, he was able to wave it off with a laugh. Damian, on the other hand, stared in horror at the butter knife firmly lodged in Danny’s arm.

“PENNYWORTH!” Danny jerked back at Damian’s scream. “RICHARD! FATHER!”

God damn, the kid had a pair of lungs on him. Danny’s wince was interpreted as pain to Damian, who gently grabbed his injured arm and started to pull him towards the kitchen’s marble island.

Danny blinked, non plussed as his hearing picked up a thundering of feet as the present family members scrambled towards Damian’s distress call.

“Wait, Damian, I’m fine. It’s-”

“You have been impaled, you imbecile! Had it been any of the other simpletons, they would have-!”

“Ouch.” Danny put his other hand in mock hurt over his slow-beating heart. He literally doesn’t care about the butter knife. He’s just impressed there was enough force in there to impale him. “Are you calling me names now? After- gasp- stabbing me?”

Before Damian could reply, the beginnings of regret, remorse, and guilt on his face, Alfred, Dick, and Bruce burst into the kitchen.

“What happened?!”

“My word, master Danny!”

“What is it?!”

“I’m fine. It’s like a small stab. Not even a big stab. I’m good.”

Dick paled, seeing Danny’s arm clutched in Damian’s hand.

“That’s- that’s a knife. In your arm. How is that ‘fine’?!”

“What happened.” Bruce asked Damian, gently removing Danny’s arm from Damian’s death clutch.

“I- I did not mean to,” Damian starts, guilt coloring his voice.

“He didn’t,” Danny cuts in. “I startled him and got stabbed for being dumb. I won’t fault him for having a defense mechanism like that, ancient knows what I might do if you guys startled me.”

The awkward silence that settled at his words made Danny twitch awkwardly.

“Uh, so, can I add this knife to my collection? Even if I didn’t get mugged?”

“Danny.”

“Bruce.” Danny stared stubbornly back. With his uninsured hand, he patted Damian on the head. He was going to enjoy the fluffiness before Damian’s guilt was no longer enough to hold him back from snapping at Danny’s hand like a grumpy alligator. Bruce loses, obviously. He’s a teenager who was also an ex-vigilante. Batman’s got nothing on a determined halfa.

“Master Danny, I must insist you refrain from getting stabbed. There is only so much gauze and antiseptic cream in the house.” Alfred returned- huh, when did he leave?- with a med kit.

Danny called bullshit because he knows there’s a whole ass medical bay beneath the manor.

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” Alfred said, promptly beginning the extraction of the butter knife.

“Are you okay?” Dick asked, hovering worriedly. “He- are you…?”

Damian was allowing Danny to ruffle his hair, so…

“Yep, I’m good. This isn’t even on my top thirty most painful stabbings,” and it really wasn’t. That honor was given to the GIW and that one time Jazz accidentally stabbed him with her earrings. “That was pretty impressive, actually. It’s like, a butter knife. The other ones had pointy ends.”

“Do not clump me with those pathetic wastes of spaces. I am naturally superior and would… would never harm you on purpose.” Damian said, getting quiet at the end like he was trying to plead to Danny to believe him.

“Of course not. But- if you want help me keep the knife, you can hit me with a mug, it would technically be a mugging.”

The pun got the desired effect. Damian leaned away with a disgruntled look and Dick stopped hovering as close in order to let out a small cackle.

“Done.”

“You should go get changed, kiddo. We’re going to see Tim’s photography at the Gotham Gallery today.”

“Oh, for real?” Danny patted Damian’s fluffy hair one last time, pushing away from the counter. “Oh, I’ll clean up here first and-”

“That will not be necessary,” Alfred scolded, a mop somehow already in his hands. “Please see to it you are prepared for the day.”

“Thanks, Alfred. Can I keep the knife.”

“Very well.”

“Sweet. See you guys later?” Danny pranced off after seeing the nods.

——

“He’s… he got stabbed a lot. Before us, I mean.” Dick tapped a furious rhythm onto the counter. “Not that we’ve stabbed him until now but even once is concerning for a civilian.”

“He was used to it.” Bruce replied.

“Perhaps we should join Todd in his endeavor and ensure that his worthless tormentors are permanently out of the picture.”

“God, he said top thirty. He was counting.”

Damian silently withdrew a kitchen knife.

“No murder with my quality chef’s knives, Master Damian.”

“Tt.”

“Master Jason follows the same rules. Now, out of the kitchen. I may be old, but I remember the last time master Bruce and master Dick stepped foot in here and I will not have a repeat.”

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic Idea: Catnip for Heros

Danny Fenton gains a particular reputation in Amity Park for being a "Catnip for Heros."

It started in Freshman year. Phantom was seen coming and going from his house at odd times. It wasn't a very well-kept secret- neighbors would see the glowing teenager in broad daylight.

The ghost hunters who owned the house were the only people unaware of the ghost flying out of the third window on the second floor—Danny's bedroom. At first, they thought it was a one-time thing.

Maybe the ghost wanted to have a little bit of fun now that he was stationed back in the human world? Fenton was rather good-looking when he cleaned up and could be charming when he wasn't dodging his responsibilities.

The A-listers started a rumor that Danny Fenton was relatively easy if all it took was Phantom saving him once. Still, the rumor never gained traction since Fenton seemed flustered at the most minor compliments. Instead, he seemed to jump out of his skin whenever anyone hinted of being interested in him- romantically or friends with benefits.

Never mind when his nighttime rendezvous with Phantom was brought up. Boy looked mortified to have it even suggested, as in burst into tears right then and there.

Even the A-listers weren't that mean. (Some think it was more due to their respect for Phantom than anything.)

Then Fenton was spotted flying on the hoverboard of Red Huntress, clinging to her like a damsel in distress. It would have been a simple rescue that the hero was known for doing, except she often carried him about without a ghost.

It became customary to hear her board humming through the air, Fenton either holding tight to her suffering stance or being carried in her strong arms. As usual, Red Huntress's face was completely covered, but her body language was open and friendly, curved toward Fenton as if he were the sun to her flower.

Red Huntress slowly but surely became more visible in public sight. Unlike Phantom, she normal vanished as soon as a fight was done. People speculated that she was human, but no one could prove it.

Once Dash Baxter was able to film Fenton literally kicking his feet and giggling as Red Huntress hovered in the air, one arm under his knees and the other on his back in a classic princess carry. She had bought him a street hot dog, and Fenton was acting like it was an engagement ring.

The video spread like wildfire through Casper High, and soon, people whispered that Fenton and Phantom had ended. Then two days later, a new video of Phantom flying out of Fenton's room at two in the morning was passed along by two jocks that had been out doing an extreme workout run through the city.

Students of Casper High wondered if Fenton was daring enough to two-time the town heroes. Wes put a stop to the accusations when he flagged down Huntress and asked her about Fenton's relationship with Phantom.

Of course, Wes meant that Fenton and Phantom were the same person (he was crazy like that), but everyone knew it was more about possible cheating. She shattered the thought with, "Phantom and I share Fenton," and flew away, leaving everyone with their jaws dropping.

However, what got Fenton his nickname was the day the Justice League arrived to ask Phantom for help against an invading paranormal force. It was a whole, saving the world; you're our last hope scenario.

People in Amity watched the battle updates from various news outlets. It seemed a bit touch and go for a while, but thankfully, Phantom and Batman could pull through and push back the undead. The streets of the small town flooded with cheering citizens who were overjoyed their town hero did it.

Red Huntress even flew over the city throwing "Phantom #1" foam fingers. It was cute how excited she was for her boyfriend. Fenton was notably absent during that time, but she said it was fine, so people let it go.

It put Amity Park on the map. Suddenly, everyone wanted to know about Phantom and his exploits. News crews, reporters, and even celebrity gossip rags were scouting the tiny town, looking for anything on Phantom besides "He's really old. Really powerful. Dead."

One Jimmy Olsen managed to get the most giant scoop of Earth's newest and hottest hero. It was of Phantom, leaning awfully close to a flustered-looking Fenton. One tilt of his head and their two lips would have been brushing.

Olsen took the shot, forgetting about his flash, and watched Phantom fade out of sight. Fenton looked horrified and raced away before Olsen could ask him questions.

Undeterred, Olsen spent a whole day searching for Fenton and nearly gave up until he happened to find the teenager in the local park, sitting on Red Robins's lap as the hero played with his hair. Shocked, Olsen snapped the photo, watching the two for a while, getting more and more footage. They fed each other ice cream at one point and raced back to the hotel to show Lois.

She excitably jumped on the idea of a plain civilian boy with heroes, especially after some digging showed his connection to Phantom and Red Huntress.

They decided they needed proof before pitching the idea back home, and Fenton was caught in similar positions with Orphan, Superboy (the clone on Red Robin's team), Inpulse, Blue Beatle (the younger new one), and Supergirl. All in a month.

"He's really going through them, huh?" Olsen muttered while the story was posted. The header read, "Danny Fenton: Teenage heartthrob that is Catnip for Heros!"

It's an overnight hit sensation.

Miles away, hiding his face in his hands, is Danny Fenton, surrounded by all the young heroes laughing so hard a few nearly break a rib.

"My Obsession is Protection and Love. It's not my fault I need cuddles from those I care about to function!" The teen cries after reading the somewhat scandalous article and pictures of himself.

"We know Danny," Tim assures him, tucking the boy under his chin. "Getting high off of love is a medical condition."

"Wait, does he actually get high?" Kara asks. "I thought he was just getting giggly 'cause he's cute like that."

"Nope. The emotion humans- and Kryptonians, I guess- release when love- any form of it- causes Danny to get high. Blown pupils. Seeing streaks of lights. Laughing silly. The whole sha-bang." Kon laughs, reaching out to pat Danny's shoulder. The teenager half-buried his face more in his hands with a muffled cry. "He once got so high after Bruce told him how proud he was of him that he created a duplicate and had a staring contest with it to see who had the right to the last bag of chips."

Jaime holds up the tablet, pointing to a photo. "It's the one that started this whole catnip thing. Also, how honored I am to be included in the harem? My popularity had never been higher."

"Stop!" Danny cries. This isn't funny. How am I supposed to protect my secret identity when the whole world thinks I'm "Making my way through all the young heroes?"

"You could marry me," Bart offers. "No one will expect you to run off with a speedster ironically."

"You have to go through Bruce first," Tim tells him; though there is a smile on his face, his eyes are ice cold. "And the rest of my family. Danny is destined to be a Wayne."

"Bruce can't adopt me; I have parents."

"I meant marry in love."

"Tim, now is not the time to state a claim." Kara sighs and then narrows her eyes. "Danny is going to marry into the El family."

"Not if we Allens have anything to say about it!"Bart shouts.

Kon and Jaime watch as Danny slips to the floor a smile slowly blooming on his face as various heroes start yelling at each other. "Should we tell them he's getting high right now or-?"

"Nah, it's fine."

[saudadeko]

ADHD tips from a girlie who was diagnosed in her late twenties and has had little to no support since and is being so brave about it:

1) Make it easy, make it accessible, and make it appealing. If anything this is the most important thing, all tips going forward are based around this concept.

2) That thing you think would help you but you haven’t bought/done it yet because you’re technically surviving without it? Buy it, you need it. It doesn’t matter if people around you might think it’s wasteful or that you’re lazy, you’re not, just do it, trust me.

3) Expanding on tip #2, if you’re like me and eggs are your main source of protein because they’re quick and easy and feeding yourself is a near insurmountable task- buy yourself an electric egg cooker, make a bunch of hard boiled eggs and keep them in your fridge for quick and easy protein to add to any meal (handful of crackers, a hard boiled egg and a banana? 5 star meal right there. Or mash them up with some mayo for egg salad sandwiches). Other easy proteins include: potstickers (put them in instant ramen), edamame (they have microwaveable snack packs), chickpeas (put in salads!), beans (can of beans microwaved with shredded cheese and some tortilla chips), peanut butter (with crackers, apple and cheese, adult lunchable style), and tofu (cut into cubes, throw them into a ziplock with some seasoning and potato starch, shake that shit up and bake it until crispy).

4) Spend a little extra (if you are able) on daily use items that excite you, it will make you more likely to remember/want to do said daily task. For example: the only reason I remember to use sunscreen is because I bought some fancy japanese sunscreen that smells like roses so I get excited to use it, same for laundry detergent and body wash! there’s a gajillion different body wash scents out there, switch it up!

5) If there’s a task you continuously struggle with take a moment to think about which part of the task is making it difficult, it could be something even as small as “I don’t put my dirty clothes in the hamper because my hamper has a lid on it and lifting the lid is one step too many-”, sounds a little stupid huh? But trust your gut, it’s not stupid if it works. See tip #2 and BUY A HAMPER WITHOUT A LID.

6) If you are having trouble starting a task, break the task down further, sometimes the way I start a task is just by going “Ok step 1) stand up-“ and so forth. Don’t worry about the task as a whole just take it one step at a time.

7) If you’re halfway through a task and have to stop, leave it out. All this, “Put things away when you’re done with them.” is bullshit. you will be much more likely to finish the task if restarting it is easier because you left it out plus it’s a visual reminder. You can also create faux deadlines like “I gotta finish this project before my friend comes over on tuesday because after I finish it I can clean off the dinner table.” etc.

8) It’s okay to outsource tasks and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, humans are designed to ask for, and to require help (what do babies do when they’re first born?? cry for help!!) ask for help and receive help without shame, if it makes your life better, you are WINNING.

9) If you have one big overwhelming task that you think you need to get done before anything else, but you feel motivated to do other tasks, do those other tasks first, it’s okay. Otherwise in all likelihood (at least in my case) you’ll put everything off until the last minute and then have to do said overwhelming task and those other tasks won’t get done at all. Doing those smaller tasks also lowers the mental load and you can use them as a motivation launch pad to tackle bigger things.

10) If you notice you tend to not put something away/forget to do something, perhaps consider moving and storing the item closer to where it ultimately ends up or where you are more likely to see it. For example, my makeup, pills, and mail are all stored on my desk because that’s where I tend to do my makeup, take my pills and deal with my mail. I used to store my pills in my bathroom medicine cabinet but all too often I would forget because they weren’t in my line of sight. Now that they’re on my desk, I have multiple chances per day to pass by them, go “oh I gotta take those.” and take them.

11) Open storage, open storage, OPEN STORAGE.

12) Motivation can look like all kinds of things. sometimes the only reason I get out of bed is because I remember I have a fun snack and I get to go eat it if I get up. It’s okay to lean into those simple “animal-brain” type motivators, you’ll eat because then you can use that fun new kitchen gadget you got a daiso? Neat. you’ll shower because then you can paint your nails that fun new color you got? Fantastic. You’ll go to the dmv and do that annoying thing because you’ll take yourself out for boba after? Superb. Lean-IN to those small motivators, they aren’t stupid or childish, they are VITAL.

13) Don’t buy into the cult of “if it’s worth doing, do it properly” it’s guaranteed to set you up for failure. If it’s worth doing, do it in whatever capacity you are able to. I put sunscreen on once a day because that’s fucking better than not doing it at all and I sure as all hell will fail at reapplying it multiple times a day. If it’s worth doing, do it half-assed babieeee.

Go forth and prosper!!! xoxo ✌️🩵

[tender-rosiey]

How do you think sukuna would act with a baby girl?? The same as his son? Maybe a bit more soft since he reminds him of reader?

troublesome — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: i have something else in store for geto <3

sukuna never planned on becoming a parent, but then you became pregnant. he had two choices: kill the kid from now or let you give birth to it.

he spent a good couple of days deciding on what to do, until he finally made his mind and headed to your room, swiftly. there you were in all your glory, eyes snapping to your husband the moment he entered.

you smiled, standing up, “hey, sukuna.” then walked to him and placed a small kiss on his cheek.

he, however, said nothing and simply kept staring you down then he said a simple phrase, “the kid.”

your eyes widened, your thoughts jumbled, and your nerves were all over the place. still, you manage to get out a response, “what about it?”

he stayed silent, and it drove you over the edge. you needed him to say something—anything. will he let you have it, or will he kill it? he was never fond of kids, always killed them first in his raids. will your own child with him bear the same fate as the others he had slaughtered and even eaten?

is this a joke from the universe? you married the king of curses, and, therefore, your punishment is never getting to experience the joy of having kids? but even if he does end up choosing wanting to kill it, how will he—

“I will let you keep it.”

you never thought a simple sentence would induce so much happiness in you. you cup his face and  start showering him in kisses, and you unceasingly thank him, “thank you, sukuna! thank you so much!”

he grunts, hand resting on your waist, “just don’t cause me trouble, and it better be a boy.” he takes hold of your chin and makes you lock eyes with him, “I don’t want a whiny, slimy little girl.”

and because the world loves him so much, he was indeed graced with a whiny, slimy little girl.

the moment the woman announced that it’s a girl, your face paled, and your husband’s frown could’ve never been deeper. his eyes traced every action that happened from the cleaning of the baby to the little girl being nestled cozily in your arms.

she starts calming down when she feels the warmth of your skin against her own. slowly, her breathing evens out, and she falls into a deep slumber.

the servants rush out of the room, leaving you, your husband, and your newborn daughter.

you don’t know what to do: do you speak first or do you wait for him to do it? you keep searching his face for any positive emotion, something that would give you hope and make you forget about his sharp scowl.

he puts a hand out and orders, “hand her to me.”

your heart fell to your stomach. there’s nothing you could do. whatever he decided on was what will happen. you desperately wanted to hold her for a bit longer and to feel her comforting weight in your arms.

though, your husband got impatient, eyes sharply looking you in the eyes, and he glowered, “y/n.”

despite your heart screaming and trying to resist ever letting him touch a single hair on your baby, you shakily put her in his hand. she starts huffing, puffing, and squirming in his hold. fearing the worst, you squeezed your eyes shut.

you simply won’t be able to take witnessing your daughter’s slaughter with your very own eyes.

you expect to hear a slash, a little thud, but you’re met with nothing, just a groan from your husband as he mutters, “she is small.”

you blink owlishly then stare at him. he is slowly raising and lowering the hand—an attempt to rock her maybe—that has your baby in it. then, he situates her against his chest.

he looks up to you and states, “she is also ugly.”

frowning, you retort, “that’s because of your genes.”

your husband quirks an eyebrow, “you’re balantly insulting me even after I spared it?”

“her.”

“same difference.”

sukuna shuffles until he is seated beside you and silently pulls you into his embrace.

you just took notice of how he is trying to avoid touching her with his nails and how his hold on her is rather gentle. the little girl lets out a small sigh then snuggles into his chest. her dad copies her with a sigh of his own then he grunts, “not a single word.”

a small giddy giggle escapes you, and you nuzzle into his chest in turn. he squeezes you lightly, before scoffing, “or a sound.”

later on that day, after you were transferred into the master bedroom along with your daughter, you’re left to rest in the expansive bed with your daughter napping in the crib right under the window.

you thought the light might give her some sort of comfort—call it a mother’s instinct. you wanted her to grow up in the light, not to be sheltered and hidden in shadows. who knows if these shadows will devour whole or not.

but you will try your best to provide her with a normal life.

as you start to drift off to sleep, you take note of a large figure standing in front of the window. he is blocking the light from sky—at least the one from the window above her crib. quickly, you are able to define its features and identify that it’s—thank god—your husband.

he has this sort of contemplating look on his face, a solemn look, maybe a bit troubled too. he keeps staring at the sleeping baby as she takes small and slow breaths.

she is fragile, he knows. he also knows that a flick of his finger will end her right then and there.

but he finds his hand only capable of gently caressing her cheek, and a wave of shock is sent through him when his daughter leans toward his touch. his daughter. he heaves a sigh and a frown is etched onto his face.

this is going to be a troublesome journey.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[aemondfairy]

Out Of The Woods

summary: The war is over and Rhaenyra’s daughter gets a fresh start in The North.

pairing: Cregan x Targaryen!Reader

word count: 842

warnings: Description of pain & childbirth, grief, RIP Jace <\3

note: Sooo……. It appears that I’m in Cregan Simp Mode

It is a brighter day than usual when your labors start. The sun even begins to peak behind the clouds, casting a gorgeous gleam over Winterfell. It has been six months since the civil war between your family has ended and it seems as though the smoke-like grief that clouds your mind is finally beginning to clear. After all of your pain and suffering, you are now far away from Dragonstone and even farther away from King’s Landing. As your younger brother sits the Iron Throne, you have a hope for a peaceful realm. As well as hope that you and Cregan will finally be able to start anew.

Things are different in Winterfell, especially now that the dance has ended. There is no pressure for your babe to have silver hair or violet eyes. No pressure for it to be born with a cock. All that matters is that the babe is healthy. Your child will not suffer the same hardships as you and your siblings once did.

You can hear heavy footsteps outside of the chamber as Cregan paces restlessly. While you endure another hour of labor, you try to keep your mind elsewhere. Your gaze is fixed on the flicker of the candle that sits in the chandelier above your head.

One of your earlier memories is your mother being in labor with Joffrey. You remember wincing at her screams and placing judgement on the names she called her midwives. Now you don’t blame her. You even admire her for going through this so many times. You miss her terribly.

Your hand grips tightly onto the wooden headboard as you try your hardest to listen to the instructions of your midwife.

“Push into the pain,” she advises you, “when the pain is at its worst, that’s when you will want to push the hardest, my lady.”

Your knees are at your chest, a thin layer of sweat covers your entire body, and your once white nightgown is now stained red. You inhale deeply as you brace yourself for another painful contraction.

And just like that, it’s happening again. It begins as a dull ache in your spine that eventually overtakes you completely. It feels as if you were being torn to shreds. Your muscles begin to spasm and each wave of pain is worse than the last.

A particularly loud scream echoes out into the hallway and it has Cregan bursting through the door into the room, his auburn brows furrowed.

“This is not the place for men, my Lord,” your midwife sternly warns him.

“I do not care! What’s happened?”

“Nothing!” you bark at him, your teeth gritted. This is a pain he is unable to comprehend.

“I’m fine, we’re fine. It just hurts. That’s all.”

Cregan frowns at you as he comes to stand at your side.

“My lord—” your midwife tries to interject once again.

“I’m staying.”

He keeps true to his word and remains at your side for the rest of your labor, despite your midwife’s wishes — earning him many dirty looks.

Another painful contraction comes and the pain is mind blowing. But it seems to be the light at the end of the tunnel. You bring your chin down to your chest and push with all of your might. You push as if your life depends on it, because it does.

“That’s it, my lady! Perfect. I can see the babe already, a full head of hair,” she states.

Just when you swear you cannot push anymore, you feel sudden relief and loud cries fill the room.

“It’s a boy,” your midwife declares, and Cregan squeezes onto your hand tightly.

“And he is one healthy pup! With quite the set of lungs!” she adds.

About an hour later, once you are moved from the birthing bed and all cleaned up, you sit in your large bed that you and Cregan share. Your babe is cozily bundled up and suckling at your breast, his tiny gums gnawing at your flesh.

“Do we have a name for him?” Cregan asks you as he comes to take solace beside you, peering down at the tiny babe.

“I’m not quite sure yet,” you reply, your mind still hazy, your heart full, “did you have something in mind?”

“I was thinking… he holds a striking resemblance to your brother. What do you think?”

You glance down at your newborn son. An angelic face matched with tiny wisps of dark hair that threaten to grow into a thick head of curls.

“Oh,” you coo, “yeah… yeah, he does, doesn’t he?”

Cregan smiles widely at you, in a way that makes your heart want to burst right out of your chest.

You and Cregan both held great love for Jacaerys. It was something you bonded over when you were first getting to know one another. After spending so much time with him at the beginning of the dance, Cregan began to care for Jace as if he was a brother of his own.

“So it’s settled then,” he states with pride, “we’ll call him Jacaerys.”

“Jacaerys,” you breathe out in agreement as your husband places as gentle kiss on your forehead.

[mv1simp]

inspired by my fav @piastrification thank you for being in my walls 🫶🫶 hope you enjoy!!

Streets ♥️

Max Verstappen x PR Manager!Reader

we play our fantasies out in real life ways, and no final fantasy, can we end these games, though?

6 months ago, F1 champion Max Verstappen traded in his status as "serious cat dad with road rage issues" for "Genius. Playboy. Millionaire. Philanthropist". Since then you've been fighting absolute demons as his PR manager to keep his reputation clean in the media. After you tell him you've had enough, he proposes a very interactive solution to your problem.

Content includes: Humour, crackfic, fluff, so much sexual tension, 18+ MDNI, smut, playboy!max, exasperated manager! reader, a very well rounded fic for once?! 4.7k WC

If someone asked you where it’d all gone downhill, you’d have to say it started because of that greedy paparrazi rat Henri - photographer at the MonacoDaily, otherwise known as every PR manager’s sleep paralysis demon. Because this particular paparazzo had a nasty knack for capturing celebrities just as they made the most atrocious decisions known to mankind. And he had an even nastier knack for threatening to sell said photos to the highest bidder. Truly, it was a dark day for any media team when they were forced to bargain with such a foul demon, who’d be able to go toe to toe with the likes of Satan himself.

So when your phone dinged at 5am on a peaceful Sunday morning, only to reveal the 7th (7th!!) message this month from the very same greedy little rat, you threw it across the room. Only to then remember you devastatingly had not been born into a Dubai oil family and you needed this job to pay Monaco rent. The text turns out to be a photo of your aggravating client - Max Verstappen, F1 champion driver, loving father to two cats, and more recently, certified manwhoreTM. He’s living upto your nickname for him, pictured in some nightclub with a half naked blonde sitting on his lap. Alright, alright, not as bad as you were expecting, you could even photoshop the girl’s hair colour to match his current girlfriend’s one maybe? Well, except the brunette woman glaring behind him is his current model girlfriend of the month. You hear a ding, another text from Henri - this time with just a 😈 and 💸👀. You throw the phone back against wall.

Three hours later you’ve cleaned up the PR nightmare and are banging on Max’s apartment door. He blearily lets you in, shirtless and still looking half drunk, but you don’t hesitate to yank him by his beltloops and drag him to the dining table (after quickly checking out that broad chest of his, though, cause goddamn. You’re just a girl.)

Ow, ow, what the hell, Max groans as he’s shoved into a chair. Please. As if you could do any real damage in your 5 foot frame to the 6 foot driver. Slamming your hands on the table for some dramatic flourish (you’re never beating the theatre kid allegations) you give the Dutchman a piece of your mind, demanding to know what his problem is, does he know how many people you’ve had to bribe this month to stop #SluttyMaxEra trending on twitter?? And yes, you know he broke up with Kelly 10 months ago but can’t he just process this healthily and go to therapy instead of having a hoe phase and hooking up with every third woman in Monaco?

Max looks insulted at this slight to his honor. He retaliates by accusing you of buying into the patriarchy and slut shaming him (-That’s not how that works but pop off king, is your deadpan response), and telling you he’s very much over Kelly, okay, it was an amicable breakup (-Sure, Verstappen, that’s why you’d only played Lana Del Ray for a whole month afterwards, huh?) and well, what’s the issue, he’s a hot and rich guy in Monaco, it’s not his fault women just want him? Would it not be #misogynistic of him to deny women the opportunity to explore their sexuality?! He smirks, pleased with his defence.

You groan, slumping down on a chair and burying your face in your hands, muffling your groan of wholesome cat dad Max comeback whennn. Max rolls his eyes at your theatrics, asking if you’d finally lost the plot.

You try cleaning up the PR messes you’ve been making, Max Emilian, you hiss furiously, remember Ibiza? Santorini? The goddamn yacht party over summer break when he got with the captain and her deputy?! (Even now, thinking of that leaking online gives you heartburn.)

Which yacht, Max says cockily, the one where he got with them one after another or at the same time?

Your jaw drops. You hadn’t even known about the threesome, so you suppose you should be grateful that wasn’t another mess to clean up. But a deeper, insecure part of you can’t help but wonder why the only woman Max doesn’t seem to want is you.

And sometimes you can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to be one of his girls, under his strong body for once instead of on the other side of his hotel wall, having to drown out the very satisfied female moans and headboard bangs with noise cancelling headphones. Like always, you push that thought down quickly.

You, good sir, are for the streets, you announce, standing up and deciding it was time to leave before your delulu, jealous thoughts decided to resurface. Seriously, you mutter under your breath, you didn’t care if his current side quest was to fuck 10 times a week, but could he at least stick to one person for a bit and not make more work for you-

Max’s hand slams the front door back closed as you started to open it. You freeze, turning back to look at him smirking down at you. You hadn’t expected him to follow you down the hallway and you gulp nervously for the safety of your job - you might have taken the roasting a bit too far.

Instead, you get a sly, Oh, so I can do whatever I want, wherever I want, just with one person?

At your awkward nod, because yes, that would significantly ease your workload, he continues, enjoying teasing his uptight, pretty manager - then were you gonna offer yourself up? After all, there’s no PR messes to find out about if it’s you, right?

You blink at Max, completely stunned by the 180 this conversation has taken. Your expression is so adorable that he couldn’t resist a you’re so cute when you’re acting all jealous, you could’ve just asked if you wanted him to fuck you, ya know?

That promptly reminds you you’re dealing with an an absolute manwhore. RIP celibacy era Max, you’ll always be famous.

Um, absolutely fucking not, keep your STDs to yourself, you hiss, flushing head to toe, and furious at the desire in you to give into the devilish proposal. He encourages you to think about it, still smirking, relaxing his grip so you can mercifully flee far away from his intense gaze. Jesus, when did he learn to rizz a girl up like that?!

You don’t take his proposal seriously at all, ignoring his cocky looks at you over meetings all week (also, he’d texted you his clean STD result to assure you he was a #SafeSexKing.) But that weekend, your refusal comes back to haunt you when you’re on a well deserved night out with your girlfriends and your PR manager senses start going off. You narrow your eyes as you spot Max in the dark corner of the nightclub, hands all over a mystery redhead. She’s not going to be a mystery much longer though - if you’d spotted them it was a matter of time before fan’s phones did and then you’d wake up to another goddamn text from your sleep paralysis demon, Henri.

You don’t even have to think about it twice. Saying goodbye to your friends, you’re at Max’s side at a very impressive speed given your 6 inch stilettos and tight sparkly minidress, and once again dragging him off by the beltloops and into an open bathroom.

He lets you yank him away, smirking when he sees you lock the door for good measure. Sweetheart, he greets. So good to see you. Finally realised you couldn’t resist me?

You practically climb him like a tree while telling him to shut the fuck up and pay attention at media training day next time, because what kind of PR crisis did he have unfolding out there? And just this once you’ll help him out, you say breathlessly in between deep kisses, but this isn’t a regular thing -

There’s not much more talking from you because he has you moaning up against the wall next, fingers buried inside your tight little pussy as he talks you through an orgasm, and then another when he splits you in half on his cock. (Once again, manwhore, who carries a condom in their jean pockets?!)

Unfortunately for your self control but very fortunately for your sex life, it is not in fact, a “one time thing”. Your trusty rose vibrator is glad for the break as you’d been taking your year long frustrations at your dry spell out on her. Especially when coming home after staying in hotels where you’d had to book out rooms neighbouring Max’s, so no one else overheard the raunchy vocals of different women every night.

Like Max said, with you, there were no more illicit PR messes to find out about in the middle of the night. You’d redirect him everytime he gave you bedroom eyes (At the pre race debrief. Post race debrief. Weekly team plan meeting. Over zoom calls? Seriously?) - gently taking his large hand and guiding him to a much more hidden, PR crisis-friendly area. To your surprise, Max actually sticks to his word and only hooks up with you - admittedly, multiple times a week (Not that you’re complaining. Turns out he was just as good in bed as he was on the track. Except this time he was definitely not finishing first...)

And for a while, everything is going well. There are no more weekly scandals scattered across trashy celeb magazines about Max. Your boss is gushing with praise, so impressed that you’ve finally managed to talk some sense into Redbull’s problem child (ah, if only she knew, but she never would, because the goddamn CIA couldn’t torture this info out of you) and best of all, you haven’t gotten a text from papparazzi rat Henri in weeks!

So of course, Max Verstappen decides that things are getting just a little bit too quiet for his liking, you had to earn your generous PR manager salary, that he paid for, right? His new, numerous tactics to stir the pot had included:

Going to clubs with no private bathrooms so you’d had to sit on his lap in the VIP lounge as he pulled your panties to the side to slide into you, barely hidden under your flimsy dress. You’d held back your moans and prayed the bass was too loud for anyone to hear

Sitting right next to you at every team dinner or business meeting so that he could sneak a large hand up your thigh and tease your pussy for fucking hours, often just as you were about to speak. And when you’re clenching the table so hard your fingers were white, he’s bending under the table to pick up a pen or something but instead left teasing licks and kisses on your aching core. You'd learnt very quickly not to wear a skirt.

Picking you up in his 2 seater Aston Martin instead of the much more appropriate discreet, spacious, 5 seater Audi he owned - so when he was too pent up after a bad practise session to wait till he got home, he'd get you to go down on him right there in the car, sometimes even as he drove, instead of parking in some hidden backstreet. It was so dirty, that he needed you so desperately that he didn't care about being caught by anyone peeking in through the half tinted windows. Because if they did look, they’d find his head thrown back in pleasure as he moans, his fingers tangled in your curls as he moved your drooling, pink lips up and down his wide cock-

Anyways, you get the picture. And he’d escalated this all the way to the paddock, which was insane because there were always multiple cameras trained on the current F1 champion. It’s the one place you two couldn’t sneak off without a very high risk of being caught, as evidenced by the one and only time he'd managed to get under your skin in the garage. He'd had you pinned up against the wall in some narrow side hallway as he whispered how fucking sexy you’d looked today, wearing his hoodie to cover up the hickies you hadn’t realized you’d woken up with and paired with some tiny denim shorts. Having the 6 foot champion huskily groan that he couldn’t focus on his free practise everytime you bent over to pet a passing dog, or when you innocently sucked on the Redbull flavoured lollipops and then the goddamn ice cream from the truck they’d brought in - was quite the power trip, you admit. So you guided his lips from your neck as he tries to add to the growing bruises on your neck and redirected him to your waiting lips instead, steamily making out as his large hands squeezed your thick ass like he’d been thinking about all day-

Max?!?

You instantly pull back from the driver and turned to see a flabbergasted looking GP - Max’s race engineer. His jaw is wide open as he looked at you two with round eyes. You’re fumbling to explain, trying and failing to push Max back - who looks rather annoyed at the intrusion and semi-glares at GP with narrow eyes. You hiss at the younger man to stop being rude and slip underneath his arms, going over to guiltily apologise to GP only to be met with You too?! How did he get you in his bed, you hated how much of a slut he was! Seriously, does he have a magical dick? Now you stare at GP in shock, unsure of how to respond to his question while Max starts laughing behind you. You make him join you as you promise to GP that he will never have to witness this again, because there will be no unprofessional behaviour of any sort on the paddock after "BootyShorts Gate" as you thereafter dub the incident. Regardless, GP still shoots you both wary glances and begins the habit of announcing his arrival and waiting 10 seconds before turning a corner in the garage, earning him many an odd look. Dramatic, really, was this where Max gets it from?

Max, of course, was very displeased with this new “professionalism” rule you'd set down - on the paddock was when he'd get the most tense, the most horny and desperate to have you underneath him, after all - and he made sure you knew it. You deliberately ignored his heated gaze on you as you interviewed him, or his lingering touches when he helped you hold your microphone up to his much taller frame, large hand wrapped around your small ones clutching the mic. Or his recent favourite, which involved standing next to you to help pick out the insta pics post-race (something he'd notoriously always hated to do) - except now, he conveniently happened to be shirtless, his toned abs and broad shoulders on display, running a hand through his sweaty tousled hair.

This last seduction tactic had sent you fleeing to Checo's garage to seek out the other Redbull driver's PR manager and beg on your knees for a client swap, surely, the sponsor benefits are legendary for whoever Max's PR manager is -

Nope. Nuh uh, no way, Checo is the breeziest driver ever to look after. The other manager pauses. Well, except for the occasional political military coup scandal in Mexico. But still, I'd take that any day over El Manwhore.

You wailed at whatever Gods had decided to curse you and took matters into your own hands, furiously plotting up social media campaign idea after idea that were exactly the kind of thing Max hated with a burning passion - hoping it would get him to back off on his tactics and wave a white flag. From viral TikTok challenges, to making him read all his cringe 2008 tweets, and even making him play fuck, marry, kill with the drivers of the grid. You'd admit, that last one had been rather funny to watch, making you chuckle as you scrolled through the comments, liking "Can't believe we got Max Verstappen saying he would fuck Lewis, kill Pierre and marry Charles before GTA 6" and "does Redbull admin know she posted this on main?!"

But despite your best efforts, it didn't seem to deter Max. If anything, he'd begrudgingly do the task and end up laughing excitedly at you - who was holding the camera - about some joke or the other and make your stupid heart flutter. You knew you definitely should not be catching feelings for your client - who'd made it very clear his interest in you was only physical. But no one needed to know that sometimes you’d log into your fake account to like the "Who got max giggling and kickin his feet and shii?" comments.

Meanwhile, Max had caught wind of your desperation for an escape attempt with Checo’s manager and had upped the ante. He slyly mentioning to Christian Horner than you were doing such a great job as his PR manager, could he pretty please have you promoted to his general manager for his non racing publicity too?

And that's how you found yourself at a Dior Sauvage photoshoot, despite your adamant protests to Horner. You were putting your Masters of Business Adminstration, first class honours, to fantastic use by babysitting a 26 year old child who liked fast cars that went vroom vroom. The only redeeming factor is that you can leave the unflattering Redbull shirt at home since this wasn't for F1 publicity and instead wear a nice outfit for once. Still, you thought it was odd that Max had so easily accepted this campaign, as he wasn't normally one to enjoy doing PR.

A few minutes later you've figured out exactly why your favourite manwhore had agreed to this campaign, because he's grinning at you while posed shirtless, toned abs and broad shoulders all on display as some pretty, busty model is draped over him. The photographer is making this even more painful for you by dragging out the shoot, making Max and the model reposition herself multiple times. You roll your eyes at the scene, because obviously they're two very attractive people who will look good together no matter what, did the photographer really need to be so extra? You stalk off at some point to make yourself a hot chocolate in the hopes it'll sooth the flames of jealousy that are threatening to consume you right now. Max approaches you when a break is called, running a teasing hand along your waist from the back and whispering you looked so fucking hot in this tight maxi dress, making you nervously look around to see if anyone noticed. Luckily, all the staff appeared busy and didn’t look in the dim corner you'd settled into to do paperwork. You hiss at him to keep your hands to yourself, Verstappen making him grin and inform you that's not what you’d said last night, in fact, you were practically begging for him to do the exact opposite-

You're glaring up at him, seriously contemplating if it’s worth breaking your contract clause to "act in the client's best interests" and mauling him with your laptop when the photographer comes up to you both with narrowed eyes. You guiltily step back, thinking he overhead Max's suggestive comments, but instead he just looks back and forth between you two contemplatively. Then, just as you were about to ask him what the issue was, he announces that you'd be replacing the model as the female for the shoot. No questions asked! he announces as you try to protest and snaps his fingers at the makeup and wardrobe artists to demand they sort you out (he gestures rather dramatically to your whole figure when he says this, making you scowl).

So that's how you find yourself dressed in a silky gold minidress with a sultry eye look, pressed up against Max's broad chest and trying not to focus on the intimate position you two are in. Max, however, has no such qualms about the position, using it to tease you further. You've been looking extra tense lately, sweetheart, he breathes, those devilish lips brushing past your ear. I know a great way to make you relax? You growl at him to shut the fuck up because oh my god, did he know how many cameras are pointed at you both right now? Besides, you mutter under your breath, it seemed like he was very interested in relaxing with that blonde model earlier.

Fighting to keep the smug look of his face, Max whispers back that there was No need to be jealous, schatje, you were the only one getting access to his magical dick. So caught up in the game you two are playing, you don't even register the photographer excitedly snapping up pictures, proclaiming that he knew it, the chemistry between these two is unbelievable!

Afterwards, as you're walking off the photoshoot, feeling all hot and bothered from Max's hands running across your exposed skin, shamelessly looking you up and down, the blonde Dutchman catches up to you. He teases you that you were going to get wrinkles at 25 if you didn't stop scowling all the time. I'm older than you, you scoff back, by a whole 6 months, in fact, so maybe you should actually listen to me for once instead of pissing me off? No problem, Max agrees, after all, he's always had a thing for MILFs. You can't help snort at his retort and then start laughing when he tries to maintain an innocent look. At least you were away from the cameras in case someone heard this, you mused.

Unfortunately, you both don't notice MonacoDaily's ratbag paparrazo, Henri, hiding in nearby shrubbery with his camera. It had been far too long without a Verstappen news scandal, he thought with a satisfied smirk as he clicked away.

And later than night, after you'd eaten the chicken stir fry he'd cooked and rewatched Cars 2 (a surpassingly more regular occurrence, these days, to unwind with him at the end of the day instead of immediately being mauled the second you stepped foot in his apartment) you made sure he followed your orders for once. Sitting him back, telling him just how bad he'd been today with all his teasing (-well, it worked, didn't it, sweetheart?) you showed him just how good you were at playing the game, too. And soon, he was breathlessly moaning underneath you as you rode him for the first time, gripping his cock like you were going to milk every last drop, teasing him with just enough pace to get him worked up but not enough to send him over the edge. And you only let him cum inside you when he begged you sweetly, making you go fuzzy at the sight of the infamous Redbull playboy being so desperate for you, and only you.

Afterwards, once you've shampooed each other's hair in the shower while gossiping about how catty that makeup artist had been, really, to imply that your pretty curls had been the problem and not her shitty styling? and Max has got you spooned against him, warm in an old hoodie of his, pressing a goodnight kiss to your forehead, you can't control the warmth blossoming in your chest any longer. And as a content sleep takes a hold of you, you can't help but wonder if Max's affections went beyond physical attraction, just like yours’ were now doing.

It turned out the opportunity to find out this answer would come the very next day, when the ding of your phone wakes you up in the early hours of the morning. It’s a very specific sound that you've set for a certain ratbag - and you get war flashbacks, hearing it now after so long. Scrambling off the bed, ignoring Max's muffled groans as you shove his heavy arm of you, you unlock your phone and gasp in horror as your suspicions are confirmed. Henri has arisen from the ashes and this time it's to deliver his sauciest scandal yet. Because a picture tells a 1000 words, sure, but he has the two of you on a goddamn video, flirting and giggling at each other as you exited the studio yesterday. There's no chance of you talking your way out of this one, as Max's large palm wanders to give your thick ass a firm squeeze as he guides you into his passenger seat. Goddamn, you knew you shouldn't have worn that tempting skims maxi dress - Max was an ass (and tits) man who couldn't be trusted to control himself in public. BTW already sold this 🥸 Henri texts. Just a courtesy FYI cuz I brought a boat with the bag from this one ✌️

You contemplate if it would be better to disappear off the face of the planet, or get plastic surgery to become unrecognisable as you chug your morning Redbull while moodily looking over the Monaco sunrise. Max joins you after a few minutes, looking extremely cute as he rubs the sleep out of his baby blue eyes and asks you what's wrong, schatje.

Taking a deep sigh (like you said, #DramaKid), you break the news. I’m going to hold your hand while I say this (- that’s really not necessary, Max interrupts) - but you know celibacy exists, right? As does having sex in a private location without the risk of being arrested for public indecency?

True, Max agrees, but what was the fun in that? Besides, you were just too hot to resist. Ignoring the butterflies at his cheesy flirting, you hold up the incriminating video on your phone as proof that it was not all fun and games, as Henri had already sold this to multiple news outlets this morning, you inform glumly. Max is strangely silent, looking intently at the video and even replaying it a few times, his eyes crinkling as a soft smile appears on his face when he hears the sound of you two laughing. Then - in a truly unbelievable redemption arc plotline from the Monaco playboy - he asks if it would be so terrible, to have this made public, to let the world know that you were together?

Well, I - you stumble over your words, - I dunno, I thought you liked that? Keeping it secret cause you just wanted a convenient hook up?

Max is silent again. Then, looking uncharacteristically nervous, he says that's not what he wants, not really, not anymore - not since he'd fallen in love with you, somewhere along the 3 months of the friends with benefits/PR manager and her problematic client situationship you’d had. And like at the very start, you don’t even need to think about it twice. This time when you shyly smile and kiss him, you make sure he can feel your love through it and know that you wanted more, too.

So you walk into work that morning, holding hands in open defiance, ready for the world to see. You’re rather confused when no one seems to be paying much attention, instead frantically trying to get the set up ready for the pre race testing. Maybe you two had not been as indiscreet as you thought and people already suspected? Or maybe you both had a penchant for drama and thought you were the main characters when you clearly were not?

You look at each other, shrug, and you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him you’ll see him for lunch at the kebab shop on the corner, before he wanders off to the garage. Maybe Henri had a change of heart and decided not to exploit innocents for fame and money, you ponder hopefully. Maybe there truly was good in the world, after all.

And then you hear your name being called and turn to see your boss standing behind you menacingly, hands on hips. Care to explain why #MaxLovesMILFS is trending right now?

Somewhere along the Monaco waterfront, a paparazzi rat skulking in the bushes sneezes.

—————————————————————————

A/N: again thank you so much to @piastrification for inspiring this piece!! So sorry for the delay and I hope you enjoy my attempt at branching out to other fics xx tysm to you all for the requests, I am working them into my upcoming fics!! 💖

[luna-azzurra]

Writing a Morally gray character

Think about their backstory, what shaped them into who they are? What do they believe in? And, most importantly, what pushes them to get out of bed every morning and keep going? These characters aren’t simple good or bad. They’re caught in the middle, in that murky, complicated space between black and white. That’s where they get interesting because they’re constantly wrestling with themselves, trying to figure out the right choice, or if the “right” choice even exists for them.

You need to show this internal battle. Imagine your character being torn between what they believe is morally right and what they actually want. This is where the real drama comes in, it’s like watching them juggle their principles with their desires in real-time. They’ll mess up, and they’ll make decisions that are sometimes questionable, but that’s what makes them human and relatable. One way to really highlight their complexity is by putting them in situations where there’s no clear answer. You know, those moments in life where everything’s kind of a mess, and you’re stuck trying to figure out what the hell you’re supposed to do? Your character should face situations like that. These gray areas create tension because readers won’t know which direction the character will go, and honestly, your character might not know either.

And don’t forget, growth is a huge part of writing a morally gray character. People aren’t static, they change based on what happens to them, and your character should too. Maybe they start off with a strong sense of morality but, over time, that starts to shift. Or maybe they start with shaky ethics and slowly become a better person as they learn from their mistakes. Growth can also go the other way, they could spiral downward, giving in to darker impulses. Either way, they need to evolve, just like people do in real life. That’s what keeps the story fresh and unpredictable. The last thing you want is a character that stays the same the whole way through.

Also, please, no stereotypes. A morally gray character doesn’t have to be a brooding anti-hero with a tragic past (unless that’s your vibe, but even then, switch it up). Give them quirks that make them unique. Maybe they have unexpected motivations, like they’re doing something shady for a cause they genuinely believe in, or they’ve got a weird sense of humor that throws people off. Whatever it is, make sure they feel like an individual, not just a copy-paste character we’ve all seen a million times.

Even when your character makes decisions that aren’t exactly clean-cut or heroic, the reader still needs to understand why. Show their vulnerabilities, why they doubt themselves, why they hesitate, and why they ultimately make the choices they do. It’s all about making them relatable, even when they’re walking that fine line between right and wrong. People might not always agree with them, but they should at least be able to see where they’re coming from.

And remember, every choice your character makes should have consequences. They don’t exist in a bubble. Their decisions should ripple out and affect not only them but the people around them. Maybe they make a selfish decision, and it ends up hurting someone they care about, or they try to do the right thing, and it blows up in their face. One last thing, just because your character lives in that gray area doesn’t mean they don’t have any sense of right or wrong. They might have their own personal code they follow, even if it doesn’t line up with society’s morals. Maybe they justify their actions in a way that makes sense to them, even if other people wouldn’t agree. It’s all about exploring that space where they’re not totally good, but not totally bad either. That’s where things get really interesting.

Think about where your character is going. Is their journey going to push them to become a better version of themselves? Will they fall back into old patterns and never really change? Or will they stay stuck in that moral gray zone, constantly torn between doing what’s right and doing what feels right for them?

[nanaslutt]

Period sex with Geto Suguru <3

contains: fem reader, established relationship, rough sex, blood blood blood, unprotected sex, hair pulling, so much dirty talk, this is truly filthy

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyou-" Shoko's voice cut you off before you could continue cursing her out. "Good morning to you too." You groaned, keeping your phone pressed to your ear, you rolled over on your back, splaying your limbs out on your sheets. "You're on your period right?" You asked, making her choke on her spit on the other line.

"Why are you being weird right now?" She deadpanned into the receiver, her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "We were together all day yesterday, and I wasn't supposed to start my period for another four days, so tell me why I woke up to bloody sheets." You growl, pouting at your ceiling.

"Crazy thought, maybe it's because the app you have to track your period is just... an estimate of when it will arrive..." She said, laughing into the phone. She held her phone away from her ear when you groaned into the receiver, rolling back over you put her on speaker so you could bury your face in your sheets to grovel while still being able to hear her. 

"Shoko, It's my 2nd anniversary with Geto today, I can't be on my period." You said, your voice coming out muffled from having your mouth buried in the sheets. "Well I hate to be the one to tell you this, but it sounds like you're on your period." 

You heard movement on the other line before you heard the tap running, Shoko must just be getting up to start her day too. "Fuck.. this fucking suuuuck." You groaned, lifting your head to lay your chin against the sheets, pouting at your phone. "It can't be that big of a deal right?" Shoko asked, her words coming out muffled as she brushed her teeth while she spoke.

"Huh?" You said, waiting for her to elaborate. "You're worried about the sex right? You're seriously telling me you've been with that freak for two years and you've never fucked on your period?" She asked incredulously, spitting the toothpaste out into the sink. 

You blushed at the thought of how dirty that was, how messy it would be. "Isn't that... kinda gross?" You asked, crossing your arms on the bed and laying your head against them. Shoko giggled on the other end, the water shutting off as her voice sounded louder now, she must've taken you off the speaker. "Nah, that's how soul ties are formed. Besides, Geto doesn't seem like the kinda person to be grossed out by that kinda thing, right?" 

Shoko had known Geto for as long as you have, so you trusted her words, but you still felt a little uneasy about the whole thing. "I don't know... It seems like it would just be one big mess." You replied, feeling yourself start to blush the more you thought about it. "At the end of the day, it's up to you, but from the way you started this call off by cursing at me like a sailor, I think having sex on your anniversary is kinda important to you, but what do I know."

--

You spent the rest of the day pondering Shoko's words. Geto was a gentleman truly. You had bled through on his sheets or your pants dozens of times in his presence, and every time he cleaned you up and reassured you it was alright and you shouldn't ever be embarrassed by something so natural.

Still though, just because he wasn't grossed out by it, doesn't mean he was into it. You weren't even sure yourself if you wanted to do it. Although Geto would probably reassure you to no end to not be embarrassed at the mess, you wouldn't be able to help yourself. Or that's what your anxieties were telling you. 

You and Geto had the most open, communicative, honest relationship, you had no idea why this was so hard to even think about bringing up to him.

What if he flat-out rejected the idea? That would be more embarrassing than actually having period sex and making a mess. After hours and hours of stressing over whether or not you were going to ask him if he wanted to do it, the time came when you didnt have a choice anymore.

Geto reached behind him and locked the front door shut blindly, one hand wrapped firmly around your waist as he kept you pressed to his chest, kissing you passionately. The way he was kissing you made all of your worries wash away, you almost forgot you were on your period until he slid his thigh between your legs, his hands coming down to grab your ass and start dragging your cunt along his thigh.

You tipped your head back, your eyes fluttering shut as Geto chased your neck, his breath smelling like the wine the two of you just shared at the beautiful restaurant he had taken you to. "Fuck... Sugu..." You whined quietly into the air, letting him grind you on his thigh, his lips kissing and sucking your neck sloppily. "Feel good baby? Feelin' better now that I'm kissin' you?" Geto mumbled against your neck, making you whimper.

"I-I've felt good all night- ahh!" Your words ended with a high-pitched moan when he flexed his thigh while he pulled your hips against him, the stimulation feeling just right against your clit. "Mmm.. you've been distracted." He whispered, kissing your neck between words. 

You cursed him for knowing you so well. He had said the same thing in the car; that you looked like something was on your mind; and you said you were fine, but clearly, he didn't believe you then, or now--he just didn't want to spoil the dinner by pushing you to talk about something you didn't want to talk about. 

"You gonna tell me what's wrong? Or you want me to fuck you so hard you forget about it." He whispered against your ear, chasing his words with a bite to your earlobe, making you groan, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Fuck.." You loved it when he whispered in your ear like that. His filthy words never failed to send shivers down your spine. 

You let him pamper your neck a little longer before you stopped him, using his kisses to distract yourself as you tried to build up the courage to finally bring up what's been on your mind all night, or he was going to figure it out himself when he pulled down your panties.

When you felt Geto's hard cock poke against your thigh, that's when you decided it was time. You had to tell him before things went any further. "Sugu- fuck- fuck sugu stop for a second." You moaned begrudgingly, pushing his shoulders back.

Geto's lips detached from your neck, a small smile plastered on his blushing face as he stared at you, waiting patiently for you to speak. "I uh.." You started, fidgeting with the collar of his dress shirt as you spoke. "Take your time baby," Geto said, his hands rubbing soothingly on your hips, making your body relax under his touch.

"I wanted to tell you earlier, but I didnt want to ruin the mood.." You started, looking at the wall behind him, embarrassed as you spoke. Geto nodded at your words, keeping his eyes on yours so you knew he was listening, whether or not you were looking at him. "I started my period this morning.." You said, taking a deep breath before your eyes found his once more, gauging his reaction.

Geto snorted, his large hand sliding up your back to lay on the top of your head, ruffling your hair. "That's what you were so worried about all day? Your expression looked like someone had died." Geto laughed, dimples forming on his cheeks as he giggled. You pouted at him while he messed up your hair. "So what now? You wanna pick up where we left off, or is this you telling me you just wanna watch a movie tonight? Both are fine." Geto said, his hand finding a home on your waist once more as he waited for your reply.

"Huh? You know continuing...this" you bulged your eyes out, moving your head around to gesture at what the both of you were doing, "will lead to sex..." You said confused. Geto looked at you deadpanned, waiting for you to tell him something he didnt already know. "That's right baby," Geto said, pursing his lips together as he nodded, trying to hide his giggle.

"Suguru, I'm bleeding out of my vagina... y'know, the place your dick goes... when we have sex." You said, your embarrassment long gone as you tried to figure out why Geto was being so nonchalant about this whole thing. 

The dark-haired man smiled, his face dipping down to your ear once more as he bit the shell of your ear between his teeth, kissing the same spot once he let it go. "If you think I'm worried about getting a little blood on my dick, you're worrying for nothing," Geto whispered into your ear, his hot breath and deep voice sending shivers down your spine. "What's the point of having a sword if you're afraid to get a little blood on it~" He whispered in the same tone, making you cringe and pull your head away from him.

"You've been hanging out with Satoru too much." You said, your face scrunching in displeasure as you covered your ear with your hand, preventing Geto from whispering any more pussy drying shit into your ear. Geto laughed before he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, making you soften up for him once more. "I'm serious. If it's okay with you it's okay with me. Just wanna make you feel good." He said, taking a step closer to you so his chest was flush with yours.

You wanted to ask him again if he was sure, but you already knew what the answer was going to be. You knew Geto would have absolutely no problem reassuring you a thousand times over he was okay with this if that's what you needed, but you decided to not let your anxieties win tonight. "Okay... go get a towel and meet me in the bedroom..." You said shyly, feeling your face heat up as you looked away from him, staring at the wall like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Yessss," Geto whispered, his hand forming a fist as he shook it in front of him like he had just won a medal. You snorted at his ridiculousness as Geto pressed his hands on your cheeks and kissed your forehead before pulling away and making a B-line for the bathroom to get the towel you asked for. "Get ready and get 'ur ass on my bed now!!" Geto yelled from the hall, making you laugh as you held your hand over your dress that had started to slip down your tits, your body making a path to the bedroom.

--

You weren't waiting long at all before he walked into the room, one dry, and one wet towel over his arms. You had already used the other bathroom in Suguru's bedroom to get yourself ready, discarding the tampon in the trash as you sat on his bed, praying that in the couple of seconds he took to get the towels, that you hadn't already bled through your panties and onto his sheets. Not that that type of worry was warranted right now when you were about to have sex with him.

Geto whistled when he walked in, his eyes raking over your body that was clad in the special set you had bought just for tonight. "That new?" Geto asked, placing the wet towel over his headboard for later. His knee dipped into his sheets, his hands opening the towel as he motioned with his head for you to come over to him so he could lay it down for you. "Yeah, do you like it?" You asked, pawing your hands over the big muscles in his arms as he fanned the towel out on the bed like a blanket.

His arms slid under yours as he crawled towards you, only clad in his boxers and half-unbuttoned dress-up shirt. His boner was strikingly obvious as his shirt flowed freely in front of him as he made his way on top of you, his larger thighs sliding under yours, your legs wrapped around his waist. "Fucking love it, baby, you look so beautiful," Geto whispered, pressing his hips forward into yours as he spoke, his hard cock pressing against your panty-clat pussy.

"Thank you Sugu." You said, biting your lip before he leaned in, connecting your lips together. You moaned against him, his lips parting to slot against yours as he swallowed your soft noises. Geto breathed out sharply through his nose as he made out with you, his hips slowly rolling against you as he held the small of your waist in his hands, using your body as leverage. 

Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him as close as possible as the two of you kissed. His tongue poked at your lips, silently asking for permission to let him in. You happily obliged, opening your mouth more you poked your tongue out to meet his, his overpowering yours in an instant as the taste of you consumed him, making a new wave of heat wash over his body.

One of his hands slid between the two of you to grope at your chest, his large, warm hand engulfing the fat of your tit as he massaged it in his hand, his fingers rubbing small circles teasingly around your nipple, making you whine and whimper into his mouth, your hands crumpling his dress shirt in your fists. 

"'S that feel good baby?" Geto asked, kissing you between words. You nodded against him, moaning louder as he started to press his hips harder against yours. You felt a gush of wetness flow from your cunt, the feeling making your body tense as you were unsure of what it was. "Just relax baby. Gonna take such good care of you." Geto whispered against your lips, feeling your body stiffen underneath him.

Slowly, as he kissed you, your body loosened up once more, you started grinding your hips up into his, repeating in your head that this was okay, Geto was into this, you were okay.

Suguru leaned back, his hands sliding down your body as they gripped your hips firmly. He bit his lip as he humped his cock into your clothed cunt, his mushroom tip pressing right against your clit. One of your hands was placed on his thigh, the other came to press lightly over your mouth as you moaned at his ministrations, the fire in your tummy getting hotter.

"I can feel you through my boxers," Geto said, slowly rolling his hips into yours. You blushed, your eyebrows furrowing together as you whined at his words. His thumb came down to press at your clit through your panties, his cock poking at your hole as he kept humping against you. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, abandoning your mouth as you moaned freely, your body squirming against the sheets as he rubbed your clit in small circles.

"Fuck baby, you're so fucking wet down here." He groaned, biting his lip as he touched you, feeling the wet fabric under his finger. You whimpered under him, your legs squeezing around his wrist when he pulled away from your clit, his hips pulling back so he could take off your panties.

You looked like a disheveled mess, your face a flushed mess, your nipples hard through your sheer bra, your chest raising and falling quickly as you panted from Geto's teasing. He slipped his fingers under the band of your panties, his eyes finding yours before he spoke. "Is it okay if I take these off?" He asked, trying to appear calm and collected as his cock throbbed at the suspense of finally seeing your bare pussy exposed to his eyes.

You nodded, your hand retracting from his wrist as you let him lift your legs, your panties soaked with blood and your arousal being thrown somewhere on his floor. "Oh fuck." Geto groaned, his hand coming to cover his mouth as he stared at your naked pussy, streaks of red contrasting nicely against your cunt. You resisted the urge to close your legs as Geto shamelessly stared at you, his other hand reaching down to his dick as he grabbed himself over his boxers, palming his bulge.

"Your pussy is so cute, so fucking cute." He praised, shaking his head in disbelief as he throbbed in his hand, his face heating up at his arousal. "Don't stare Sugu... It's embarrassing." You whined, looking away from him with a pout. "Nooo, nonono." Geto quickly retorted his hand that was covering his face sliding down to his chest as he unbuttoned his shirt, peeling back the fabric and letting it fall to the ground as he fully exposed his rippling chest to your greedy eyes.

"'S not embarrassing at all. It's so fucking hot." He groaned, palming himself harder over his pants. You blushed at his shameless words, your eyes raking over his chest as you tried to distract yourself from his watchful eyes. "Fuck." he groaned, continuing to rub himself, leaving you a throbbing, bloody, leaky mess. 

"God... would you kick me if I ate your pussy out right now? She's lookin' at me like she wants to feel my tongue inside her." Geto said, rubbing his thumb over his tip. You felt a chill run down your spine, your cunt clenched at his words but your legs tried to snap shut around his hips in fear that he would actually do it. "Don't even think about it, stop thinking about it." You said, the color draining from your cheeks.

Geto let out a giggle, his thumb reaching down to pull apart the lip of your pussy, spreading you open so he could get a better view of you. "Relax, realxxx, I won't do it... this time..." You missed that last part as you felt Geto spread you open, your ears feeling hot as he stared at your cunt like it was some attraction.

Geto was too distracted by your hands that he didn't notice until he felt your touch that you had leaned to the side so you were able to reach his cock, your hand palming over his dick, making his eyes go wide as they shot up to your face. "How much longer are you gonna keep me waiting, huh?" You asked, trying to sound stern but your arousal made you sound like a needy cockslut.

Geto smirked, his hand pulling down his boxers quickly as he shimmied out of them, his hard cock slapping against his hard abdomen, the small happy trail of black hair that ended at the neatly trimmed base made your mouth water. "Sugu, did you make your dick all pretty for me?~." You teased, referring to how neat and almost pretty his pubes looked.

"Are you trying to say I usually look messy?" He asked, squinting his eyes at you as his jaw dropped in faux offense, his arms finding their home on your waist once more as he leaned over you, his chest pressed against his as his cock poked your pussy from below. You giggled at his scrutinizing gaze, your hands cradling his face as you spoke. "Never baby, but It looks like you took your crotch to the barber." You said giggling, your laugh getting interrupted with a sharp inhale as his dick poked your clit.

Geto pouted at your teasing, his head dipping down to the crook of your neck as he bit the skin there, making you groan. "'s the last time I try to do anything nice for you... followed a tutorial 'nnd everything." He said, that last part making you laugh. 

"Yeah yeah, laugh all you want. Let's see if you're still laughing when I fuck you full of my pretty dick, huh?" He said, his hand pressing by the sides of your head as his other slid between the two of you to grab the base of his dick, rubbing his tip against your folds.

Your giggling immediately ceased when you felt his leaky tip bump against your clit. Looking between you you saw the head of his dick already coated in a thin layer of your blood, making your hands shoot to your face as you leaned back, covering your eyes. Geto smiled at your antics, the hand not holding his cock reaching up to pull your wrist away, "Baby shop that~ You don't have to be embarrassed." Geto said, his eyes flitting between your cunt and your flushed face, hidden by your hands.

"I've never done this before, it just... it feels like I should be." You said, peeking through your fingers to look at Geto, who was still rubbing his cock agaisnt your folds, the wet sounds your cunt was making made your ears flush red at the tips. "I know baby, but I promise I fucking love it. Look how hard I am... c'mon... look." Geto pleaded, pulling gently at your wrists for you to show your face.

Begrudgingly, you pulled your hands away, looking down between your legs at Geto's stiff cock. He pressed his tip against your folds, making your pussy squish at the top as he pressed hard against you, dragging his tip from your entrance to your clit. "You think I'd be this hard if I was grossed out by this? Hm?" Geto said, raising his eyebrow at you.

You held your hands over your chest, your fingers fidgeting with the straps of your bra as you shook your head. "Yeah, that's right. Knew you were a smart girl." Geto praised. He looked down at his cock, his balls clenching at the sight of your blood smeared over his cockhead. He rubbed you up and down a couple more times before he found the entrance of your pussy, pressing in slightly as he fed you the tip of his cock.

You gasped in unison as it popped into the tight ring of your cunt, Geto took a deep breath in through his teeth before he pulled back out again, repeating the process a few times. "Fuck...Sugu... give me more, please." You whined impatiently as you felt yourself clench around nothing each time he pulled out, leaving you empty.

"I didn't stretch you out on my fingers, so I gotta take it slow, pretty girl," Geto explained, watching you pout at his words. "Unless you want me to?" He added with a mischievous smirk, already knowing your answer. The way your expression changed to a more serious one answered his question better than your words ever could've. "That's what I thought, be patient," Geto replied, slipping his fat cock in and out of your leaky hole.

"Fuuuuck." You moaned, your head falling back against the pillows when Geto pushed his cock in a little deeper. Your hand shot to his sheets, crumpling the fabric between your fingers as he took his time working you open on his dick. "God- you're so fucking warm-" Geto grit through his teeth, thrusting his cock shallowly into you.

Your pussy was usually insanely warm, making Geto never want to pull out--but right now? It was especially warm and wet, he had your blood to thank for that. "Sugu~ You're so big-" You groaned when he let go of the base of his cock and slid himself slowly inside you, his other hand coming to steady himself by your head. Your hands shot up to grab his waist, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to ground yourself.

"Yeah? 'n you're taking it so fucking well." He praised, taking the opportunity while you had your eyes shut to look down at your tight cunt sucking him in, his brain short-circuiting as he watched your blood drip out around him, making a mess on the towel. 

He looked back up to your face at just the right moment when you cracked your eyes open again, looking at him with pleasure plastered all over your face. "Almost in baby, just a little more." Geto cooed, his hand reaching over to rub your cheek soothingly as he continued pushing his cock into your tight hole, making your face scrunch in painful pleasure as his fat cock stretched you open.

He thrust his hips to the hilt, the both of you moaning together as he pressed his balls to your ass, making sure his cock was snug inside you. "Good girl, good fucking girl. You took my whole fucking cock like it was nothing~" He praised, his face coming down to pepper kisses over your cheeks as he stayed snug against you, not wanting to move before you were ready.

The two of you kissed while your cunt adjusted to the stretch. Your hands roamed the other's bodies as you locked your legs around Geto's back, wishing the two of you could be even closer somehow. "Baby.." You whispered against his hips, making him pull back a couple of centimeters to look at you. "Baby, please move now. Fuck me, wanna feel you." You begged your hand on his cheek, thumb caressing his soft skin as you spoke.

"Yeah? How bad do you want it?" He asked, smirking at you as he rolled his hips against yours, his tip pressing against your g-spot teasingly, making your jaw drop open against his lips, his mouth kissing your open one. "So bad, Sugu please, please give it to me." You whispered, threading your other hand through his hair, your nails raking over his scalp in the way you knew he loved.

"That feels good, keep doing that and I'll give you my cock, okay?" Geto said, his eyes rolling back in his head when you took a handful of his hair, getting ready to tug when he started fucking you. You nodded quickly, whimpering as he lifted his upper body off of you a bit. Pulling his hips back, his cock sliding out almost to the hilt, he fucked it back inside you, all eight inches of his girth being bullied into your walls, making your slick and blood gush out around him.

You yelped into the room, your hand tugging at Geto's soft hair, making him groan in tandem. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you kept tugging on his hair, his hips starting a brutal pace as he fucked you with reckless abandon, loving how wet you felt around him with the extra fluids.

"Fuck baby, fuck." Geto groaned, his head tipping back with your hand when you pulled extra hard. "This feels so fucking good ohmygod. Are you feeling good too? Do you like this?" Geto rambled, your pussy created lewd squelches to echo throughout the room, making you blush. You didn't dare look between the two of you to see how much of a mess you were making. 

"M-mhmm, Feels so g-good Sugu-" You gasped, his cock bulling into your sweet spot making your words come out choked and slured. Geto let out a long groan, slowly rolling his hips against yours before he leaned forward and took your clothed nipple into his mouth, his hips picking up again. 

Both of your hands tangled in his hair as you pressed him against your chest, the soft strands of his long black hair falling onto your chest and neck, tickling your skin. "Oh fuck- right there, fuck right there baby-" You whined, your nails digging against his scalp as he bit your nipple softly through your bra, moaning against it as you treated his head roughly. 

His hips were so fucking mean, his pelvis grinding against your clit at the new angle, his bodyweight crushing yours making you feel lightheaded. The trimmed hairs on his pelvis tickled your skin, the rough feeling of his hard pelvic bone feeling euphoric as he rolled his hips against yours every so often, your clit throbbing against it.

"I can feel how messy you are down there." Geto moaned around your nipple. "You're fucking flooding around my dick right now, it feels so good, so fucking good." He groaned, moving his head to your other breast, finding your nipple with ease as he sucked it through the rough fabric, the sweet taste of your skin still accessible through it.

"A-ah- Don't say that-" You whined, accidentally tugging his hair a little too hard when he started fucking you at a particularly sensitive angle, his tip completely stimulating your g-spot and obliterating it. He groaned loudly against your skin at the feeling, his cock twitching at the feeling of his hair being pulled, the stimulation going straight to his cock. 

"Why not? You embarrassed? Embarrassed about how much I love your pussy? Hmm?" Geto asked, lifting his head to look into your eyes. You took note of his swollen lips, red from sucking on your chest. His flushed face and slack jaw, his overall fucked out expression sent a whole new wave of arousal through you.

Geto kept the bottom half of his body close to yours, making sure he was able to keep stimulating your clit with his pelvis. "Ye-ah-" You replied, keeping your lidded eyes on his as he fucked you, the tension in the room making you feel hot all over. "You're so cute, baby." Geto cooed, his jaw dropping with a smile as he fucked into you harder, making your head fall back against the pillows once more, your eyes falling shut.

Geto chased your neck with his lips, his head finding a home in your neck as he kissed and sucked at your neck roughly, his actions sure to leave bruises the next day. "Ooh fuck, you just got so tight," Geto mumbled into your neck, making sure to thrust his hips up against your walls so he was fucking you in all the right spots. "You like when I kiss all over your neck like this? You like when I fucking- pamper you?" Geto babbled, his hips losing their rhythm as his words made you clench around his cock, your bloody juices leaking out around his cock, dripping down his balls.

"Suguru- baby, baby I'm getting close-" You warned, your words coming out as high-pitched whines as his hips fucked you towards your high, Geto following right on your tail. "Yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock? Gonna make an even bigger mess for me? He teased, his teeth digging into your neck as he tried to hold back his orgasm long enough for you to cum first.

You were making his mission nearly impossible though. The way your cunt was squeezing around him, your cries in his ear, your nails digging into his scalp? It was about to push him off the edge. "Fuck, I'm not gonna l-last much longer either." Geto voiced, burring his forehead deeper into your neck, his eyes screwing shut.

As much as Geto wanted to lean back and watch your blood squirt out around his cock as you came, he couldn't find it in himself to pull away from you right now. He was relishing in the feeling of your body heat radiating into his skin, making him feel feverish. "Ngh- Cum with me Sugu, want you to cum with me." You begged, squeezing your legs around his back, trying to pull him even closer.

Geto felt his balls clench, his abdomen starting to burn with his impending pleasure at your words. "Okay baby, okay, want it inside you?" He asked, biting down hard against your shoulder as he fucked into you, making sure to grind his hips against your pelvis after every thrust, stimulating your clit. 

"Yes! yes, oh fuck- cumming-" You cried, barely even able to voice your high before you were cumming all over his cock. Geto's eyes rolled back in his head as he felt your cunt squeeze his cock, your pussy milking him of everything he was worth as he released his first ropes of cum inside you. "Cuming- cuming- fuck- take it, ohhhh my god." He groaned against your neck, his eyes rolling back in his head as he fucked rope after rope of his cum into you.

He was unable to distinguish whose fluids were leaking around his cock, dripping down his balls--maybe it was a mixture of everything. Your bodies jerked and spasmed agaisnt each other as you came, moaning against one another. Your hands released from his hair as you came down from your high, your hands rubbing over his sweaty back as Geto collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily into the crook of your neck as his dick weakly twitched inside your walls, dripping out every last drop of his cum he had for you.

The two of you caught your breaths as you lay together, the air around you smelling like musk and sex, making you feel dizzy. After a few moments, Geto groaned against your neck, the sound vibrating into your skin. "That felt so good," He said, his words coming out muffled as he spoke against your skin, making you giggle.

"Yeah... Happy anniversary." You said, cradling his face when he lifted it from your neck. Geto leaned in for a kiss, smirking when he pulled away. "Best anniversary yet." He said with a childish smile on his face. Geto pressed a kiss to your forehead before he leaned back, keeping his dick inside you as he leaned back on his heels, pulling his cock out an inch or so to look at the damage. He whistled looking down at the bloody, slick mess the two of you created.

You only had to look down for half a second to notice the streaks of blood on Geto's thighs, let alone the mess of cum and blood mixed together around the base of his cock and your pussy. It truly was a mess if he'd ever seen one. You groaned, covering your eyes once more with your hands. You'd think after fucking him on your period, you would be less embarrassed, but that simply wasn't the case.

"Aww baby~" Geto cooed, giggling as he rubbed your thigh. "How are you feeling, does it hurt anywhere?" He asked, pulling his messy cock out, making you wince before he was leaning over you to grab the towel to clean you up. "A little sore... a lot embarrassed." You replied, not daring to even peek as you felt Geto run the towel over your cunt. "Sorry." He mumbled when he watched your body twitch away at the feeling of the rough material of the towel on your sensitive pussy.

"Just one nice warm shower with your boyfriend, and it'll be like this never happened." Geto comforted, taking the opportunity of your hands covering your face to look under the towel to see if there was any blood on his sheets--there wasn't, miraculously. 

You groaned in reply, knowing he was right but still feeling embarrassed anyway. "Look on the bright side, we're soul-tied now. There's no getting away from me~" Geto cooed, trying to get you to loosen up. Apparently, it worked, because your hand slid off of your face, resting on your kiss-marked chest as you stared at him deadpanned. "Seriously, stop hanging out with Gojo so much."

[meloyun]

cock-warming 🫠

i decided to do it with all 6 .. hehe

heeseung

heeseung cannot deal with cockwarming, at all. he gets frustrated, he feels like every ounce of blood in his body gets drained into his cock from how hard he is during it. unlike with some of the others, cockwarming usually ends up in rougher sex with heeseung, if the cockwarming even lasts longer than thirty seconds that is. he always ends up with his fingers kneading into your ass whilst you holds you in place and fucks up into you, letting you fall against his body and bury your head in his head as he fucks you brainless. he just can’t help it, something takes over him every time he feels you wrapped around him, something that makes him crave to fuck into you and feel your walls convulsing around him. so cockwarming with heeseung absolutely wouldn’t work.

jay

jay is more composed than heeseung. whilst he doesn’t love cockwarming, there are times where he finds himself fond of it. after long, tiring days, all he craves is to have you laying in his arms, cock stuffed inside of you whilst you warm him up. he ends up breathing heavily into the back of your neck, hands gentle on your skin as he holds you close to him. it’s really a fifty fifty to how the cockwarming will end, there’s been few occasions where you’ve both fallen asleep and woken up in the same position, any sudden movement from the other immediately waking the other up. in times like that, you usually both end up waking up filled with need for the other. other times, his hips start moving slowly on their own, he cautiously listens out for your moans. once he hears them and feels your hands tighten around his, he moves a little harder. ends up filling you up with his cum whilst fucking you in a spooning position, both of you falling peacefully asleep afterwards.

jake

cockwarming in itself, is a punishment for jake. he cannot handle it, at all. no matter how he feels, dominant, submissive, completely neutral, he’s not having it at all. not before, during or even after sex, just feeling your walls tighten around him even for a second sends him spiralling into a painful erection that cannot be helped without him fucking himself sloppily into you. anytime cockwarming starts, it ends with jake messily fucking you, chasing his own high with his head buried in your neck because of how worked it it got him.

sunghoon

sunghoon has some patience. physically he wouldn’t last very long in teasing you with it, he’d find himself getting overwhelmed being able to feel your warm, wet cunt squeezing his cock, but mentally he’s staying still until he thinks you’ve had enough. he’ll be stoic, barely showing any emotion as you squirm on his lap. his fingers would press a little harder into your hips just to keep you still, he’d look at you with almost nothing in his eyes before cracking a small smile at your incessant whining. eventually, he’d tell you to do all of the work yourself since that you’re that needy. if you can’t stay still and you need him so bad, then you should be the one to desperately fuck yourself on his cock just to show him how bad you really want him. maybe then, he’ll fuck you properly.

sunoo

sunoo actually finds cockwarming to be incredibly comforting. he loves having you ride him and he loves nothing more than having you seated on his cock after you’ve both came. wants to keep you there, arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace whilst you play with his hair and coo into his ear. he’d be breathing so heavily and he’d be on the edge of falling asleep, just wants to stay there forever. it’d be up to you to get up and help him clean up, but depending on how intense your session was, he’d want to relax back inside of you immediately once you’re back in bed.

jungwon

jungwon would be a wild card, his reaction to is would be based on how he’s feeling that day. some days he’s calm and collected, sleepy and happy to lay with you whilst you’re wrapped around his cock. he finds it comforting in a way, just having you snuggling into him with nothing but calmness and intimacy in the air. sometimes he ends up giggling into your skin for no reason at all other then the fact he feels like it. the other days he cannot handle it at all, just the feeling of you wrapped around him turns his brain into much and his body into overdrive. wants nothing more than to dig his fingers into your skin and fuck you until you’re both sweating and a mess.

[merakidoll]

welcome to the first of many - mirah’s unlike pairs series! first up, rockstar boyfriend’s geto and eren

you had a thing for long dark haired, toxic rockstars - obviously.

“m’there baby just a little more; yea?” you couldn’t reply to the sexy man even if you wanted to. the backstage room was filled with smoke, blut after blut, the high coming to you even though you weren’t even smoking. your cheeks were pressed hard against geto’s leather pants that caught the dark colored mascara tears. his would often rub your hot skin, big pretty eyes looking up at him; while your moans of pleasure filled the space.

“don’t go to hard on my baby, she didn’t mean it jerk” he would remind eren while bringing the thick blut to his lip taking a huge puff. “you’re too soft - m’pretty pussy - fuck!” eren got distracted at your clenching, and cream rings that formed around his cock slapping your pretty brown ass hard, then grabbing ahold of the white bunched up skirt. “too soft, pussy s’good she knows what she’s doing” your stocking stuffed heels clicked together as eren started to fuck you harder. the tip of his cock repeatedly hitting that specific spot in your gummy walls that made you cum yet again.

geto shook his head, a smirk on his lips from secretly agreeing with his bandmate. he took a long inhale, looking into eren’s big green eyes. “hmm” he leaned forward, making sure your head was still comfortable as he gripped his chin blowing the smoke into his mouth and ending it off with a rough tongue kiss. you couldn’t help but shut your eyes tightly, moaning so loud. your pussy was deliciously sore, mind clouded and dumb so happy to be feeling so good and be with your men; and the sight of the kiss wasn’t making it better. your lips were wet along with geto’s pants, slob from your not being able to control yourself falling all over him - be he didn’t mind because he was the good cop out of the two.

“yess” eren threw his head back, geto’s cock jerked underneath your cheek, cock growing more and more with each orgasm eren gave you passed. he watched his boyfriends abs flex as he grabbed your love handles and pushed you back against him harder chasing his high. with low eyes geto watched it all. how your eyes rolled to the back of your head, eren going deeper into you when he angled himself. the squirt that flew from between your both making yet another mess. he wanted so badly to clean with his tongue, but that thought would stay between him and his mind.

how eren’s greens eyes grew darker, his own cream stuffing your hole, watching how it dripped out of you and onto the dingy couch that was in the backstage of the set that had just - well hours ago; performed on. the second he pulled out, your fell into a deep cocoon of sleep that you drifted off to with lots of praise from both men. when your were rested on the other couch that was much smaller, eren lit his own blunt taking short strides to the man who hadn’t changed position. he stood in front of him, a semi hard dick and a blut slowly bringing it to the others lips groaning when he began to clean up the mess you made.

[aliteralsemicolon]

I'll wait for your love - 18+

See part 1 | See Part 2 | Part 3 of We can't be friends (wait for your love)

The only thing you’re sure of is that you don’t want things to go back to the way they were and Spencer agrees that change may be for the best.

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER This story is NSFW and contains graphic depictions + detailed descriptions of adult content. It is intended for mature audiences only, minors do not interact!  You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don��t like it, don’t read. 

WARNINGS: Panic attack mentioned, slight PTSD depictions, case details (barely) mentioned, alcohol mentioned like once. Smut (not the focus at all): making out, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, praise, use of pet names (angel, pretty girl, etc). Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 10.4K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

Avoiding Spencer wasn’t overly difficult on the flight back to D.C. You weren’t entirely sure how to face him after he risked his life for you, so you just pretended to be asleep the whole time. You even took a separate jeep from the tarmac to avoid a car ride back with him, and almost made a clean getaway to your car in the parking lot when Hotch stopped you. 

“I’m sorry to hold you back, but I do need the Anchorage report on my desk before tomorrow morning. It can’t be put off any longer.”

He looked extremely apologetic and you understood. You’re grateful he gave you as much time as he has. That’s how you ended up stuck at work til the later hours of the evening. Besides the few workaholics, security guards and janitors roaming around the corridors, the only other person there with you is Spencer, oddly. Even Hotch has gone home. You’ve spent more time stalking the doctor work through the pile of case files on his desk than you have writing in the one on yours. Only when you're caught do you look away. 

“Everything okay?” The innocent curiosity in his big eyes further reddens the hot embarrassment in your cheeks.

“Fine.” You mutter, dipping your head back down to the open page.

You’re never going to get this damn file done if you can’t get him out of your head, and him being barely three feet away from you doesn’t help. It’s very difficult for you to get your words from pen to paper. Anchorage wasn’t haunting you like it did at first. It was a traumatic event, yes, but alone isn’t the cause of this…block. Obviously the reality that you’re leaving is starting to dawn on you. Somehow your mind has linked this case with your departure and finishing this report makes it more official than your actual resignation. 

Plus, as much as you definitely hate Spencer, you do did care for him. The shock of him almost getting himself killed in front of you is another thing occupying your mind. It’s barely been twenty four hours since then, it’s still fresh. You can see him stand and grab his satchel in your peripheral vision, he’s preparing to leave. There are a lot of memories attached to that brown leather bag. 

Things he would carry in there for you when you forgot your own bag. 

You don’t make it obvious that you’re watching him gather his things in small glances. 

He bought extra hair clips for you to keep in there because you would often forget those too. 

It’s over now. No point in dwelling on it. You shake your head once he’s out of sight, trying to force him out of your thoughts. Now that he’s gone you’re hoping to actually be able to get some work done.

He taught you chess with the mini chess set he keeps in there. You discovered that you actually quite liked chess and would ask to play with him all the time. It was also his ‘secret’ weapon to help you calm down. 

You roll your eyes to push back the tears from the memories that refuse to stop playing. This can wait until you get home, it’s not important. 

It wasn’t the chess set that helped you feel calm. Spencer could win chess against you in just a few moves, but he would deliberately stretch out the game so you could have room to breathe. The longer the game, the more time you had to spend focused on the moves and slow down your thoughts. You could open up at your own pace. He would let you feel in control.

It doesn’t matter if he’s near you or not, Spencer has a way of invading your headspace wherever he is. Your train of thoughts is interrupted with a light thud on your right. You covertly roll the tears away again and turn to examine the source of the noise. A mug of coffee placed on your desk by

“Spencer?” You sputter breathlessly. 

“Sorry. I know you told me to stop. This is the last time I promise.” 

You don’t fully comprehend what he’s going on about, not expecting him to be here at all. 

“I thought you left.”

“I did– was. I was leaving, but I thought I’d make you some coffee before I go. Since you’ve been here a while.” He awkwardly explains. 

You steadily direct your attention back to the mug, reeling in what was happening. 

“Before you get mad, this really is just a cup of coffee from a colleague who thought it might help keep you energised if you’re planning to stay late. There’s no ulterior motive…”

He continues rambling but you’re not mentally present to hear any of it. 

He made you coffee. 

Even though you’ve been nothing short of an absolute bitch. Granted he was a bitch first, but the point is that he’s still thinking of your well being regardless. You can’t hide your tears from him this time. It’s the soft buzz of your name that draws you back to him. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you! I’ll take the coffee–”

His panicked sentiment is cut short when you jump out of your seat and shove past him. The breakdown you’ve been avoiding hits you like a ton of bricks. You run into the nearest empty office and he runs after you, making it past the door before you can lock him out. 

“Spencer p–please get out! I’m fine.” You’re pacing in the same spot, fanning away the stream falling down your cheeks, hyperventilating.

He doesn’t respond to you, instead cautiously taking your hand in his. You’re in too frenzied a state to care. He guides you to sit on the couch against the wall and you blindly go along with it, still trying to get yourself together. 

You want to stop the tears, but you can’t do that until you get your breathing under control. He slowly wraps his arms around you and you slump into him, head buried in his chest. You should try to fight it, you should push him away, but you can’t. Right now, surrounded by his scent, held in his arms, you don’t want to move. It’s not something you can properly explain, but the feeling is so comforting that nothing else matters. All you know is that you’re safe and that’s enough for you to allow yourself to finally break down. 

The first few sobs are loud, like there’s not enough air in the world to stabilise your lungs. They fizzle out into silent whimpers and you grasp onto the fabric of his sweater, balling it in your fist, just letting yourself feel. Spencer still hasn’t said a word. His right hand is rubbing circles on your back and his left hand is gently scratching just above the nape of your neck. 

You stay like that for a while, even after you’ve stopped crying. It’s been so long since you’ve been in this little bubble with him and you don’t want it to end. You pull away when you feel the strap of his satchel across his stomach as your hand drops to his lap. He visually follows every move you make. 

“You’re still wearing your bag.” You sniffle, leaning back. 

“I am.” He whispers, understanding that you no longer want to be touched. 

He stays in his original position; facing you, but now with one arm resting on top of the backrest and the other idly in his lap. You’ve moved so that now you're facing ahead with your back leaning against the cushions, pulling your knees into your chest. You had never found comfort in silence until the first time you experienced it with Spencer. Staying huddled, you divert your eyes towards him. There’s a distinct wet patch on his shirt. It’s less visible on his sweater-vest, but it’s there. 

“Your shirt’s wet now.” It’s almost impossible to make out what you’re saying with your mouth muffled against your arm, but of course, Spencer manages anyway. 

“It’ll dry.” He smiles, tone delicate. 

“But– germs.” You choke a little due to your previous crying. 

“It can be washed.” He’s using his comforting voice again. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

The silence resumes. Neither of you dares to move, trying to freeze this moment. It’s obvious that you didn’t grasp how badly you craved each other’s presence. 

“D–do…” The initial sound grabs Spencer’s full attention again. You take a deep breath, hoping he wants to stay here as much as you do. “Do you still carry that little chess set with you?”

A small, airy chuckle comes out from him. 

“Would you like to play?”

“Please.” 

He creates some more space between you and begins to set up the board once he’s pulled it out of his satchel. You move to accommodate the set up, now facing him with your legs crossed on the couch and shoes abandoned on the floor. You wait for him to make the first move. After the opening moves the game doesn’t seem to get any harder and you know he’s throwing the game. You’re okay at chess, but he’s obviously a lot better. 

“You’re going easy on me.” You mumble.

“Because you’re not even trying.” He replies blithely.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Like I said, you’re making it too easy.” He gently teases.

“Not that. Helping me. You hate me, remember?” You say it like it’s the most casual thing in the world. 

“I don’t hate you.” 

“You literally told me that you hate me.” You chuckle, numb to the hurt that sentence once brought you. 

“So did you.” He counters in defence, trailing your hand as it carelessly moves your queen to her demise. 

“I was angry.” 

“So was I.” He spared your queen, in turn leaving his king vulnerable. 

“It doesn’t matter now…” You don’t finish the rest of your sentence but Spencer still hears it.

You’re leaving soon anyway.

“It matters to me.” If he left something unsaid you choose to ignore it. 

“You’re letting me win.” You whisper, feeling the urge to cry some more, but there’s no tears left. 

He doesn’t make a move, bringing the game to a halt. He’s waiting for you to meet his eyes. You know what he’s going to say. 

“Spencer, don't.” You beseech.

“Why?” If you looked at him instead of the board you’d see the way his eyes are pleading at you. 

“There’s no point.” This time it’s your voice that cracks. 

You're looking everywhere else and it makes you too aware of your surroundings. Like how the couch is lined up directly under a window that anyone could peek into. 

“Leaving is not the only option.” He solicits. 

He regards your discomfort and closes the blinds from where he’s sitting, pulling you back into the privacy of your bubble. 

“There’s nothing that you can say to make things go back to how they were.” You bite the inside of your cheek, fiddling with a random pawn. 

It’s not a proper two way conversation. You’re talking to yourself just as much as Spencer’s talking to you. You’re both trying to convince you of what you’re saying. 

“Things don’t have to go back to how they were.” The squeaks in his soothing tone are starting to melt any resolve you have left. 

“There’s no reason for me to stay.” You oppose, trying to make any argument stick.

“I can think of more reasons for you to stay than for you to go.” 

There’s an underlying tension bubbling. Neither of you notice it over your desperate tug of war. 

“I don’t think there’s anything that you can say to get me to stay.” Another baseless sentence meant more for you than for him. 

“Give me one chance. One chance to convince you.” He can see your internal struggle at his request and he throws out one final plea to sway you. “For nothing more than closure.” 

Closure.

You’ve spent months in turmoil over the hows and the what ifs, trying to conjure answers to questions that wouldn’t stop pestering you. You couldn’t turn him down even if you wanted to. 

“Closure?” You repeat, eyes finally latching onto his.

“Closure.” He whispers back in reassurance. 

“Even if you can’t convince me?” You caution, not wanting to give him false hope.

He doesn’t say anything, thinking over the scenario in his head. He simply nods and you mimic the action, blinking away the blur in your vision and dragging around chess pieces. It takes Spencer a second to figure out that you were moving them back to their default places.

“Okay new game.” You announce. 

Spencer blinks in confusion, waiting for you to elaborate. 

“I can ask you any question I want and you have to answer honestly. If by the end of the game I’m not convinced to stay, you back off for the remainder of my time here.” You pause for him to interject, but he doesn’t. “That means we stay away from each other, only talking when needed for work. Even then as cordially and professionally as possible. No more trying to make casual conversation or bringing me coffee or anything like that.”

“Till the end of the game?” He studies you. 

“Yup.” You smack your lips together. “Til one of us checkmates the other.”

“This means you’ll actually give me a fair shot?” 

“Between the two of us, I’m not the one known for cheating at games.” You jab, trying to ease the tension you could definitely feel now. 

“I meant a fair shot at convincing you. As in you’ll seriously take what I have to say into account.” He discards your attempt.

“No, I know. The opportunity was just too good to pass up.”

He can tell you’re trying to hold back a laugh from the small smile on your lips. It’s as adorable to him now as it was the first time he saw it. 

“Any rules before we start?” He asks, unable to hide his own smile.

“Only that we have to be honest.” You answer, immediately dropping your smile.

“Okay.” He agrees, smiling slightly wider.

“Okay.” You nod again.

When he finally makes the first move it hits you that you don’t actually know where to start. Theoretically, you know what you want to ask, but don’t know how to ask. You don’t know if you should jump straight into the questions or start with some ice breakers. Nothing is said for about four to five moves when Spencer pauses the game. 

“Are you going to ask any questions or have you decided that you just want to play one last game for your closure?”

“Huh?” You snap your vision away from the board. “Oh, sorry. I was thinking.”

“Do you want to return to the game after thinking of a few questions to ask?” He raises his brow and relaxes his jaw.

“No, no, we don’t need to do that. Let’s keep playing, the questions will come to me.” You brush off his suggestion and motion for him to continue with his turn. He doesn’t.

“What?” Your voice raises and you scrunch your nose from perplexity.

“Sorry, it’s just that you’ve put us on a time limit and this is how you’re using our time?” He airs, failing to conceal his amusement.

“Well excuse me if I don’t exactly have a list of questions ready to go for you.” You narrow your eyes in annoyance. 

“Why would you suggest this if you don’t have any questions?” He tries to hold back his laugh and ends up snorting as a result. 

“I have questions!” You jabber, unable to maintain your annoyance. “I don’t know what– where do I even start?”

“Start with whichever one comes to you first.” He shrugs, finally making his move. 

A lot of things come to mind when you think about it. The thing that screams the loudest twitches a nerve and you become instantly irate. 

“Okay.” You nod, tone harsh and flat. “Let’s start with whatever the fuck possessed you on the last case. What was your thought process when you put your life in danger like that?”

He almost gets whiplash from the change in mood, his face literally reads ‘are you serious?’. 

“He was going to shoot you.” He states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“I was wearing a vest, I would’ve been fine.” You contend. 

“I wasn’t willing to take that risk.” 

“Risk?! You literally put yourself in danger for no reason!” 

“I think it was a pretty good reason actually!” 

“Spencer that was–” You stop yourself with a grumble, inhaling deeply. 

“It was instinctual, okay?” He softly explains. “I saw him aim the gun at you and I just reacted.” 

“Well it was a stupid reaction!” You whine. 

“I’m not going to apologise for it.”

The glare you give is piercing, you bite the inside of your cheek to hold your tongue before you say something you can’t take back. Spencer throws his head back and sighs. 

“But I will promise not to do it again.” He adds, not fully intending to keep it. 

This was slowly turning into another argument, both of you shooting back too fast with your responses. You aren’t in the mood for another argument. So you redirect your attention to the game. 

“Check.” You mumble, buying yourself time to think of another question. “Why are you here so late anyway?”

“I wanted to finish some work before tomorrow morning.” He replies, moving his king to safety. 

“Yeah, what’s up with that? You could’ve done those tomorrow as well.” Your voice softens out of curiosity. 

“I wanted to get them finished in case there were more tomorrow.” It’s not his best excuse. You don’t know what he means by that. He doesn’t know what he means by that. He’s lying to you. 

You scoff, poking your tongue against your cheek. “Wow. You really can’t not cheat during a game, can you?” 

“Right, sorry.” Spencer clears his throat after the initial confusion clears. Complete honesty, it was your only rule. “I wanted to be here.”

“For…” You egg on, purposely rolling your ‘r’s to prompt him. 

“I wanted to make sure that you were okay.” He admits, looking away from you. 

“Why?” You’re genuinely puzzled at the admission. “You’re the one who almost died. I mean, it was stupid and your fault, but still. If anything I should be checking up on you.”

“Check.” That’s the only response he gives you. He hopes that you don’t push further, but he knows that you will. 

His lack of response only forces you to think about the possible reasons by yourself, using context clues to figure it out. You are a profiler, after all. 

“Is this because of the panic attack?” You note how his jaw twitches when he swallows at the mention. “It is! You seriously chose to spend your night stuck at the office because of that?” 

“What else was I supposed to do? It’s not like you would talk to me, you literally refused to even look at me!” He gripes. 

“Spencer I think anyone would panic if they got tackled to the ground by a six foot man without warning. I’m fine.” You giggle.

“What happened to complete honesty?” It’s his turn to glare at you.

“I am being honest!” You protest.

“Lying by omission is not being honest.” He rolls his eyes.

“Okay Mr. know-it-all, what am I lying about?” You challenge.

“Seriously? You don’t remember?” His approach is doubtful and he just stares at your dazed expression.

“Fucking spit it out already, Spence!” 

Any sarcasm he had geared up for a response dissipates at your use of his nickname. He’s heard it plenty in the last few months, but not from you. For a moment things feel like they never changed. It stings in a bittersweet kind of way. 

“You sc–screamed– uh–” He clears his throat and rapidly blinks, his nose twitches in the process. “During that panic attack, you repeatedly asked me to stay with you. Y–you, uh– you said you didn’t think you could li–”

“Stop. Stop. Stop talking.” Your voice quavers and you hold your hand up, ears burning up. “I don’t wanna know.”

You don’t know why it makes your heart race the way it does, you don’t even remember it. He waits a while before speaking up again, wanting to be careful about how he goes about the topic without you shutting down.

“May I ask you a question?” He voices professionally, trying to make the conversation less personal so you don’t feel cornered. 

You nod, moving your king out of check.

“Is there anybody you will talk to about Anchorage? Without pushing them away?” He keeps the game going as he speaks to provide you with a distraction. 

“Woah– Anchorage? Where is that coming from?” You titter.

“I want you to remember that we promised to be honest and I won’t push if you ask me to stop, but I know for a fact that you aren’t okay.” He waits for you to stop him but you don’t, even though you know roughly what he’s going to say. “Panic attacks aside, your avoidant behaviour around the topic, inability to focus, being easily startled, you’re showing signs of PTSD.” 

“Spence, c’mon. I don’t need to talk to anyone. I already passed the psych evals.” You attempt to make light of the situation with carefully chosen words so you’re not lying. It was a futile attempt, you know he’s not willing to budge when he doesn’t give you anything more than a blank stare. 

“Why does this matter so much to you?” You sigh in defeat. “Whatever happened…that’s a part of the job, you know that.”

“I also know, first hand, that it takes over your life. You can’t run from it, no matter how much you try to.” His tone is soft as he speaks, yet you feel like he’s accusing you. 

“I am not running! Why would you say I’m running?” You object with a high voice, shrugging your shoulders. “And it’s not taking over my life. Also, check.”

“Because that’s what you do when you don’t want to deal with something.” He states point blank.

“Woah– so– that was entirely unnecessary.” You stammer, unable to deny it. 

“I’m not criticising you. I just happen to know you and I know that you have a tendency to run from your problems. And it is taking over your life.” 

“You’re profiling!” You gasp.

“You know that it’s not something we can just turn off! No matter how much we pretend like we can.” He waves his hands defensively. 

You can’t argue with that, your lips twisting to the side. 

“You want me to be honest?” You murmur sheepishly. 

“Always. Please.” He responds gently, wanting you to be as comfortable as possible.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I spend a good chunk of my day actively avoiding thinking about it, but somehow I always end up thinking about it anyway. At times it’s like I can almost feel…” You breathe in instinctively. “This is the first time in months I’ve been able to do anything without it lingering in the back of my mind. Can we please talk about it another time? I would rather talk about other things…”

Another time. 

“...right now.” 

You’ve implied that there will be another time to talk and he definitely caught it, even if he pretends that he hasn’t. You don’t even know if what you said is true, you got too comfortable with the familiarity of his friendship. It was something you said out of habit from back when you two actually were friends. Not even a full hour's worth of conversation with him and he’s already worming his way back in.

“Um–” You drag yourself further back on the couch, creating more physical distance. 

“That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it at all.” Spencer senses your urgency to leave the situation and jumps into damage control. “It’s your turn.”

“No, um, I should– I should go. Thanks for doing thi– helping me.” You turn away from him, aiming for your shoes and ready to bolt.

“The game’s not over.” He points out.

“Yes it is.” You declare, still in the process of putting on your shoes.

“You said til checkmate.” He huffs, shifting out of his seated position. 

“I forfeit!” You throw your arms out in a shrugging manner, standing up after him.

“I can’t believe this. You’re going back on your word!” He doesn’t even raise his voice. He’s just hurt. 

“What’s the point, Spencer? Closure doesn’t mean anything, I’m still leaving! You can’t magically change my mind!” You yell, getting louder with each sentence. 

“I disagree. I think that you’re running again!” He blocks your way and yells back, maintaining his volume throughout. 

“Maybe you should think less!” You suggest, still yelling. Sarcasm is your defence mechanism when you have no actual defence. 

“You know what else I think?” He continues, emphasising the word ‘think’ every time he says it out of spite. “I think that you agreed to this thinking I won’t be able to convince you, but I am!”

“I don’t care what you–”

“I think you don’t want to finish the game that you started, because you’re afraid to ask the harder questions!”

“Stop.” You command, but it doesn’t deter him.

“I think that you’re scared to hear my answers because then it all becomes too real for you–” 

“Stop!” The words almost get stuck in your throat, but you choke them out. “You’re wrong.” 

“If I’m wrong then prove it. To both of us.” He sits back down and motions to the board. “Ask the real questions.” 

“I don’t need to prove anything, you’re wrong.” You uphold.

“So leave.” He challenges, knowing that you won’t be able to. 

If you truly believed that he’s wrong you wouldn’t feel the need to prove it, but you do and he knows that. You walk back over to the couch, head nodding from irritation, tongue poking your cheek. You kick your shoes off with a bit of force and return to your earlier position across from him. 

“Your move.” He reminds you as you settle in.

You don’t reply yet, but move your rook to set him up for the next move.  

“Check.” He smugly states.

“Who was she?” 

You don’t move, examining him close for any change in his behaviour. He obviously didn't anticipate that question first, snapping his sights back on you. 

“Sorry?” 

“The woman who greeted me at your door. That night at your apartment.” 

“Charlotte.” He replies, holding your gaze to show you he’s got nothing to hide. “We met at the library a week before.”

“Are you guys together?” You break away first, diverting your eyes to the chess board and trying to seem unfazed when moving your knight. 

“No, God, no.” He denies immediately. 

“I don’t know, she seemed pretty cosy for someone you met a week prior.” You don’t mean to sound as snide as you come across.

“No, it wasn’t like that at all.” He shakes his head. 

“You sure? Because I’m pretty sure I saw her mark you up with a kiss on your cheek before disappearing.” You don’t look at him, examining a captured pawn as you wait for him to make his move. 

“Mark me up?” He cognizes it instantly. “Are you…jealous?”

“What? No!” You vehemently deny, your voice rising in several pitches. 

“You are!” His eyes widen. 

“I am not jealous.” 

His jaw slacks and he lets out an amused scoff. He doesn’t say anything, making you feel the need to fill the silence. 

“I only bring it up because…I know you have a thing with…germs.” Your words falter because of your own uncertainty and you want to dissolve into the fucking floor. 

Spencer tries to suppress a smile by poking his tongue out slightly. If the atmosphere was lighter he’d tease you about it, but he doesn’t want to make you take off again. Still, he feels the need to clarify the events of the night. 

“I don’t know why she kissed my cheek, it was completely random.” He takes his time saying it, still fighting a smile.

You swallow nervously and purse your lips to the side in response. One question answered and you only have new ones in its place. Did she stay the night? Did she sleep on the couch or on his bed? Did he see her again? 

“I drove her home right after you left.” He can almost hear your thoughts. 

“Was it a date?” You softly gulp again, unsure if you even have a right to know.

“Yes.” He hesitates. 

“Oh.” 

“I wanted to try out casual dating for once.” He chagrins. “I honestly don’t know how you did it, it’s not even fun.” 

“No it’s not.” You chuckle dryly. “So no second date, I presume?”

“Definitely not. I was just stressed the whole time.” He chuckles with you. 

“Take a shot of tequila before you go next time, it helps settle the nerves.” You joke, jumping to give him advice you hope he doesn’t take. You can’t help it, it’s what you’ve always done. Even if it goes against what you desire. 

“While moderate consumption of tequila can help relax the nervous system, I will not be turning to alcohol for stress relief.” 

“Then blast classical music while you get ready and give yourself a pep talk out loud, it’s actually really efficient–”

“There won’t be a next time. For a really long time, if ever.” He interjects, miffed at your insistence. 

“You willingly plan on committing to lifelong celibacy?” You exclaim with a puzzled look. “Why?!”

Spencer laughs at how raw your reaction is. He didn’t plan on giving out any more details but, with that prompt he decides that it’s now or never. 

“I don’t think any future dates will appreciate me picturing someone else in their place the whole time.” 

Oh. 

Both of you lock eyes at the same time. This is not a road you’re prepared to go back down, even if that’s literally the whole point of this conversation. You’re too stunned to reply and Spencer uses this as an opportunity to be elaborate. He doesn’t want any misunderstandings this time. 

“I couldn’t stop pictur–”

“Shut up.” You blurt out the sentence in almost one word. 

Your heart’s racing like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff. You’re flustered, every part of your body is heated from how terrified you are.

“Y–you don’t have t–t…you don’t owe m–me an explanation.” You try to elaborate, contradicting yourself and stumbling on your words.

“I want to.” He reads that you’re apprehensive but pushes regardless. 

“Please don’t.” The tears that you thought had dried out were building again.

“Why ask if you won’t let me answer?”

You don’t have anything to say to that. Did you want answers? Yes. Still, you didn’t expect how hard they’d be to hear. He whispers your name and you scramble to think of your next move, and not in chess. You’re unable to even think about the game right now. You want to bolt, but you can’t even get yourself to move. So you deflect. 

“Because it doesn’t matter.”

“I disagree.” Although his tone is subdued, the pace of his wording is faster. “I think it does matter and that’s why you’re afraid to hear it.”

He’s right but you can’t bring yourself to agree. This is only going to over-complicate an already complicated situation.

“It’s not enough.” Your voice cracks.

“How can it be if you won’t even give it a fair shot?” 

“Fair?” 

It comes out louder than you intended. His words trigger resentment within you and you snap. 

“Nothing about any of this is fair! I mean, fucking hell, Spencer, four years. That’s how long we’ve been friends. I mean I’ve shared shit that I thought I would be taking to the fucking grave with you! You were my best friend for four fucking years and all it took was like, five seconds?”

You sob, softer than when you were first crying, but the frustration is clear. He reaches out to touch your hand, but you push his hand away. 

“No!” You choke, sobbing harder when you try to compile your thoughts. “Five seconds to destroy all of it! It makes me wonder if everything we shared, our friendship, was it ever even that strong?”

Your anger simmers to sadness, as evident with how your yelling fades into whispering in the last sentence. 

“I can’t even tell you when exactly those five seconds were. I mean, I know…but…I don’t. Where did it go wrong, Spence?” 

“I don’t know.” Is all he can say after a beat of silence.

He knows exactly where it went wrong. 

“Yeah, me neither!” You sniffle, immediately wiping a single tear that manages to escape. “So again, it doesn’t matter.” 

“When you took it back.”

“What?” 

“That’s where everything changed for me. You showed up at my apartment drunk, after your date with Nathan. Your exact words were ‘I mean as an amazing friend’.” His voice strains like he’s forcing himself to speak. 

Your gaze falls, eyes darting everywhere as you try to jog your memory beyond the one sentence you remember. 

“I don’t understand.” You croak.

“You know, if I wasn’t who I am, maybe you could love me the way I love you.” He chuckles bitterly, fighting back tears of his own. “That was– that was, uh, what you said before you took it back.”

“Spence, please…” You whine without sound, tilting your head back and chewing on your lip as a final attempt to stay composed. 

“No, you wanted to know where it went wrong.” He laughs falsely to downplay his tears. “You can say it doesn’t matter all you want, but the fact is, it does matter. It matters to me and I won’t let you run from it anymore.” 

You can’t look at him. Not with tears free falling down your face. You cup your hands together in your lap, pressing your fingers and nails together. 

“You told me that I couldn’t love you.” You struggle to sound your words. 

“I’m an idiot.” Another chuckle, but he sounds defeated. “When you said that, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to say that I do love you.” 

You tearfully laugh at this admission. 

“I only took it back because of what you said. I panicked. I thought I’d ruined things…which I guess, I still did.” Another laugh from you.

Spencer responds with the same regretful sound. 

The irony spurs another fit of giggles amongst you, this one slightly longer and infinitely more rueful than the last. You look anywhere but at each other until it grows quieter. 

“If you loved me, why the fuck would you tell me that I couldn’t love you?” You sound just as, if not more, defeated than him. 

“Love.” Spencer corrects without missing a beat. 

Your brows twitch up and your heart jumps. 

“I was so hung up on every single part of your sentence that I didn’t know what to say first.” He proceeds to answer you without leaving much room to process what he said. “I wanted to tell you that I do love you. I love you as you are. Not as somebody else.”

“But you didn’t say any of that.” You ignore all his admissions, not fully comprehending. 

“Like I said, I’m an idiot. I was in so much disbelief and that was the first thing that came out of my mouth.” He sullenly huffs.

You don’t reply, sniffling with your head down. 

“For like a second, I had everything I wanted. Then you took it back and it was like my whole world had been ripped out from under me. In those five seconds, you’d given me a taste of what I’d spent four years convincing myself I couldn’t have and I just– I couldn’t go back after that.” He adds after a stillness. 

After a short while, your focus shifts from your hands to the board in front of you. The game’s been long forgotten. You’re immersed in the conversation, in spite of how strenuous it is. 

“I understand why you were distant, even mean, at first.” You snivel. “But after a while you just became downright cruel.” 

Spencer doesn’t shy away from your gaze when you do look at him. His skin is as drenched from crying as yours is. 

“I mean ‘I don’t want to see your face’? I know that I don’t really have a leg to stand on anymore, but, what the fuck Spencer?” 

He doesn’t cringe any less with every reminder. He’s truly regretted the words since they left his mouth. 

“I wanted to hurt you.” He reveals. “I thought you were being deliberately cruel and I wanted you to feel exactly how I was feeling.”

“Deliberately?” 

He nods, hanging his head.

“I thought that you knew how I felt and were just trying to be funny or something.” 

“Well I didn’t. I wasn’t.” You cut him off with a constricted voice.

“Even if you did, it’s not an excuse.” His eyes are glistening from the outpour of tears, but he still lifts his sights back to you. “I’m sorry.” 

You don’t know how to acknowledge his apology at all. You’re not even angry anymore, all you feel is sorrow and regret for the way everything happened. An entire friendship down the drain due to an unfortunate set of circumstances. 

“This is so fucked up.” You say with another mordant laugh. “All of this could have been avoided if we just talked about it.”

It stung less when you had somebody to blame for it. Your vision blurs and you make no effort to clear it, letting yourself cry openly. 

“We’re talking about it now?” It’s almost a squeak, the way it’s spoken.

“Yeah, but,” your shoulders slump, defeatedly, and you have to pause to control your sob, “what good does it do now? I’ve already lost the best thing that’s ever happened to me in the most pathetic way possible.”

“I’m right here.” He counters in such a small voice that it gives your goosebumps. 

“Spencer, too many things have been said…”

“When you first joined the team, I instantly knew I liked you.” 

He chews on his lip and darts his eyes around while he contemplates if he wants to continue. 

“I thought it was because of your kind nature. You were so sweet to everybody.” He decides he does, but his voice shakes throughout. “You have this gift…you make people feel so good about themselves. Whenever you spoke to me, I felt like the most important person in the world. It was impossible not to like you.”

You want to pretend like you don’t know where he’s going with this. You want to stop him, but your voice is stuck in your throat.

“It wasn’t until you bought me coffee for the first time that I realised just how much I liked you.” He chuckles again, as he reminisces in the memory. “You didn’t even get my order right until the fourth time, but it was still my favourite cup of the day.”

“You make me sound like a saint.” You finally choke out, attempting to play down the confession so it doesn’t crush your heart. “The only reason I even started bringing you coffee is because you learned how I like my coffee first.” 

“Not a saint, an angel. I’ve fallen so deeply in love with you that there are times where it genuinely feels like I’m in the presence of an angel.” 

It’s stated with such sincerity that it knocks the wind out of your pipes. Your eyes are widened and you’re biting your tongue with your mouth closed, staring at him with your chin tucked. He seems so confident, even with the glistening from previous tears in his eyes.

“I wanted to be in your life in any way you would have me. Even when it meant that I had to accept you with other people. And it was bearable, until…” His reminiscence only ends at the memory of the night that changed everything. “Like I said, I couldn’t go back.”

The last part fades into another whisper, only then do you find the courage to speak up. 

“Exactly.” You stick to your denial. “It can’t go back to how it was before.”

Your heart is so sure of what it wants, but your head is blinded by fear. You’re at a crossroads, except one path, the path that leads to everything you long for, is clouded with a fog of uncertainty. The other path is so painfully clear, you can practically see what’s on the other side. A fresh start, where the risk of fucking up further doesn’t exist. What you don’t see is Spencer.

“Good. I don’t want it to go back to how it was.” 

Spencer’s waiting for you to enter the fog. He’s going to be there holding your hand every step of the way. 

“I’ve already handed in my resignation.”

“That matters less than everything you’ve claimed doesn’t matter.” He leans in, intensifying his eye contact. 

“I’m pretty sure Hotch is really close to confirming my replacement.” You comment half-heartedly. 

You’re trying anything to dissuade both him and yourself from acknowledging the obvious, but he doesn’t plan on letting you avoid it. 

“I love you.” He whispers softly.

“Spencer…” You begin when he takes hold of your hands and whatever you had to say disappears from your tongue. 

“I love you. With every atom that makes up my body.” He repeats himself with further elaboration to instil it in your mind.

“I’m scared.” You whisper back with a sob, finally accepting it. 

“Why?” His voice can’t be any softer, but it still cracks a little.

“Because, you can’t guarantee that it’s going to end well.” You allow your vulnerability to peek through. “And that’s going to hurt more. I’d rather leave now than fall deeper.”

Although you didn’t say it back, it’s an indirect admission that you love him too. And it’s enough for him to fight harder.

“I know that my credibility isn’t the greatest,” he coaxes a small, sad scoff out of you, “but I truly believe that this, us, we’ll work. Because I know that I’m going to do everything I can to make this work.”

He feels bolder when you don’t pull away from his touch, folding your fingers into your palms and cupping over them. You observe the sight as it unfolds in lieu of a verbal response. 

“I’ve spent four years judging any man that comes into your life, wishing I was in their place, swearing I would treat you better than all of them.” 

Spencer feels the need to fill in the silence and he lets honesty guide his confession. He leans in further as if he’s indulging his deepest secret. 

“Four years wasted wondering what could be, cursing out those idiots, but taking no action to make it happen. And that makes me the biggest idiot out of all of them.”

When he speaks like this, with his big, imploring eyes and prayerful tone, it melts your heart to a point where it almost hurts. The more he talks, the more you begin to lean in, opening yourself up to him.

“It took losing you to realise how badly I fucked up and for that I will never forgive myself. I know that I have no right to ask you to waste any more time on me…”

There’s no more resistance against the pull you both physically feel to each other. 

“...but I’m begging you for a chance to do today what I should have done way before yesterday.” 

Your faces grow closer by the second, you can feel each other's breaths against skin.

“And I’m going to spend every tomorrow proving what I said today.” 

The likelihood of him changing your mind with one conversation wasn’t very high, both you and Spencer knew this when you got into it. You’re not entirely surprised when he somehow manages to overcome those odds too. You take the step to close the gap and lightly press your lips to his. 

It starts off soft, there’s no lust, no ulterior motive behind it. It’s a simple confirmation that you’re both present and this is real. Spencer doesn’t shy away from the kiss, not that you’d call this a kiss. It feels more intimate, more unguarded.

Spencer pulls you onto his lap as he shifts and leans back against the backrest to allow more room for you. You wrap your arms around him and the kiss deepens. In the midst of you straddling him, he slides the entire chess board off the couch and the pieces scatter on the floor. It’s only when you feel that the kiss can’t bring you any closer to him does the lust emerge. It fuels a desire to prove that you both whole-heartedly belong to each other. 

There’s no pinpointing when the switch happens. All you know is that the feeling of his lips against yours is no longer enough. You cup his jaw in your hands, swiping your tongue on his lower lip and it causes his grip on your waist to tighten. He parts his lips for you and it starts what you can only call a dance with your tongues. 

Your breathing grows hotter, your hips subconsciously grind against him. There’s a prominent bulge that brushes against your heat and you whine into his mouth. Spencer grunts your name in response and then abruptly pulls away.

“Wait, wait, wait, slow down.” He breathlessly whispers against your lips. 

“What?” You whisper back with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He gazes into your eyes, afraid that you might regret this later.

“I’ve never been more sure, actually.” You’re confident at first but the look in his eyes makes you pull back further. “Unless…you’re not sure?”

“No, don’t misunderstand me. I want you.” His tone rises just above the previous whisper with his clarification. “It’s just that the last thing I want to do is take advantage of you when our emotions are running high.”

“Four years, Spencer.” You lean in again, just brushing your lips against his. “The only reason you should be making me wait is if you’re not sure.”

He shuts that idea down by crashing his lips on yours. The kiss is so hungry, so desperate, it’s everything both of you have longed for and denied yourselves everytime you’ve been in each other's presence. It doesn’t take long for hands to start to roam. He traces the curve from your waist to your hips, stopping just at the hem of your shirt, tugging it like he’s asking for permission. 

You rush to undo your buttons and he meets you halfway, starting at the bottom. His fingers brush against yours as you two reach the final button and you pull the fabric off yourself. You do the same with his shirt, lips remaining locked, except for the small gasps of air you take in between. It requires a bit more manoeuvring with him, but you’re both soon shirtless. 

His mouth travels to your jaw and you shut your eyes from pleasure as he continues down to your neck. The stubble on his chin tickles your skin. You cup it, gently pushing him away with a giggle. 

“Forget to pack a razor in your bag, Dr. Reid?” Your voice is teasing, more playful than seductive.

He chuckles, airily, hiding his groan. He knows you’re being sarcastic, but the use of his title, with your voice in this context, catches him off guard. You moan as you feel his growing bulge against your heat when his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you into his kiss. You swiftly undo the clasp of your bra, but before you can take it off, Spencer grabs you from just below the hips and lifts you up off him, gently laying you down on the seat of the couch. 

There’s no room for hesitation as his lips find your neck again and he nips at the skin. Every suckle earns him short gasps and the grip in his hair tightens as he travels lower. He stops just above your breast, pulling himself up to sit on his knees. You stare up at him with a heated gaze, the nail of your thumb resting between your teeth with your lips parted to make up for the loss of his lips. 

He reaches for your bra strap and begins pulling slowly, searching your eyes for any signs of you withdrawing consent. All he sees is how beautifully they sparkle when you give him a light nod. It’s been too long since he’s seen the stars that you hold in your eyes, stars he accustomed himself to before he even got to properly know you. 

Gazing into his eyes, you’ve never felt more sure, more safe. You trust him implicitly and you’ve never wanted anything more. His constant need to make sure you're comfortable sends shivers down to your core. He slides the garment off you and Spencer’s beyond grateful that he’s already on his knees, knowing that if he was standing he’d fall to them because of the sight below him. 

His eyes don’t falter once, he’s trying to permanently etch this moment into his brain. He hovers his fingers above your body, thumb brushing against your hardened nipple and you softly whine. He looks awestruck, almost like he doesn’t believe what’s happening. You can’t help but wonder if he thinks your boobs look weird. 

“Beautiful.” The words fall out of his mouth in a whisper, as if on cue. He’s really just thinking out loud.

Before you can respond he lowers down and plants a small peck to your sensitive nub before taking it into his mouth. You gasp again, head lolling back in pleasure. One of your hands goes for his hair, while the other clings to his hand that’s already holding yours. He switches between sucking, pulling and squeezing; rolling it between his tongue and uses his teeth to squeeze ever so slightly.

“S–spencer.” A strangled moan falls from your lips. 

You tug his hair, whining and moaning as your hips roll against the strain in his pants. When your motions become continuous, he lets out his own strained groan and is forced to release your nipple with a small ‘pop’. 

“Angel, I really need you to stop doing that.” He murmurs in your ear with a gentle, gravelly tone.

As soon as the nickname reaches your ears your hips involuntarily buck up again, making his hips automatically push down against yours. His cock presses against your core and you both moan, his head falling against your shoulder.

“Spence, more.” You quietly whine in against his ear. “I need more.” 

“More?” He echoes back, turning his head so that your lips brush past each other when speaking. 

“Mhm.” You nod weakly as he brushes a strand of hair out of your face and weakly connects his lips with yours.

Even when he’s got you vulnerable and at your most compromised, he’s still as gentle as ever. You don’t feel him undo your pants or sneak his hand in them, but you definitely feel him press the pads of his fingers against your clothed clit. Air escapes through your nose in a huff of surprise and you hum in his mouth, hips jolting at his touch. He can feel your slickness through your underwear. 

“Oh, my pretty girl.” He sighs, breaking the kiss and directing his whispers in your ear again. “All wet for me?”

“Please..” Even with your broken whimper you beg him for more. 

“Like this?” His deft fingers swipe your panties to the side, fingers landing directly on the clit this time. 

They feel cold at first. The contrast against your heated body makes you squirm and you groan in a soft, high pitch. 

“What are you feeling right now?” He pries a verbal response from you, circling your bud lightly. “Tell me.”

“Good.” You sigh, eyes shut as you try to savour the pleasure. 

“Good?” His voice is still soft against your ear.

“Mhm.” You nod, one arm draping against his shoulder and the other hand running along his scruffy jaw. “So good.” 

“And this?” He adds pressure to his movements. “Does this feel good?”

Your hips buck again and he feels rewarded when you moan. There’s no doubt that the sound of your voice is his favourite. He especially loves it when it’s directed at him. Whether that be in the form of a laugh or your sweet moans. It makes him somewhat dizzy. His lips attach to the skin just under your jaw in an attempt to coax more. 

It’s very effective. Fingers working your bundle of nerves, circling and flicking while changing the pressure, and mouth kissing and sucking near your pulse. It makes your back arch, hand gripping his shoulder so you don’t float away. He’s careful not to leave any purple traces of him on your neck, mindful of you being bombarded with questions from your colleagues.  

“I love how reactive you are, Angel. You sound divine– fuck.” He can’t help the grunt that escapes him. “You are divine.”

His touch alone is enough to make you feel electric, but the sweet nothings he’s whispering in your ear will be what send you over the edge. It’s a foreign feeling, being reminded that he values you for more than just your body. Just under an hour ago you had incredibly high walls built around you and none of them are left standing as you exposed under him.

Spencer’s not the first man to touch you, but he is the first that loves you. It’s something you’re not at all used to and it feels as overwhelming as it does good. It transcends the want, no, the need for the man on top of you beyond lust or love. You plan to show him just how strong that need is tonight. 

The carpeted floor is littered with your clothes, carelessly thrown around and tiny chess pieces scattered around the abandoned chess board. Spencer’s comfortably lying on the couch, facing the ceiling and you’re lying directly on top of him with your face buried in his neck. 

You run your fingers back and forth along his jaw, scratching his beard in slow streaks. He’s enveloped you in his arms, one around your lower back and the other playing with your hair. It doesn’t feel as peaceful as it seems, both of you are afraid of being the first to speak. You know you can’t stay like this forever and you decide to bite the bullet. 

“Spencer?” 

You only get silence from his end. You know he’s awake because his motions in your hair don’t stop. You push yourself up to face him, trying to study his face. The sudden movement brings him back from wherever he was zoned out to. 

“Hm?” His features jump.

Does he regret it?

“What’s wrong?” Your voice shakes from worry. “You have this look on your face.” 

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just thinking.” 

“About…?” 

“How bad we are at communicating.” He chuckles. “It’s concerning when you think about how all we ever do is talk.” 

Hearing this makes you snort and you fall into him again. It sends both of you into a short fit of laughter. 

“Oh that’s promising for the success of this relationship.” You giggle, sarcasm evident. 

Hearing relationship makes Spencer inhale sharply. 

“So you’re staying?” 

“Well obviously, Dingbat.” You scoff playfully at the question and shift upright, straddling him. “But we really do need to get better at the communication thing for this to work.”

Spencer mounts his weight on his hands by either side of him and pushes himself up to you, stealing a deep kiss. 

“Yes, we absolutely do.” He whispers, breaking away for only a second. 

The kisses fizzle in you a plethora of smaller kisses. 

“Spencer, I’m– serious.” You voice in between, loosely draping your arms on his shoulders. 

“I am too.” He says in a hushed tone as he pulls away. 

“I want to take it– this,” you motion between the two of you with your finger, “us, slow. Not four years slow, but, like, by a couple of months at the very least.”

“Okay.” He agrees, his eyes scouring your face with complete adoration. It’s not ideal, but he understands where you’re coming from. 

“That means that we start again. Romantically. We have to talk about a lot of things first.” 

He shifts his body out from under you, resting his back properly against the couch and pulls you back into his lap in one swift motion. Both of his hands graze from your shoulder to your wrist.

“How about…you come over this weekend,” He suggests, wrapping his arms around your waist for a hug, “we’ll do snacks, a movie, maybe an actual game of chess.” 

“That sounds like a date.” You wrap your arms around his neck to return the gesture and lean your forehead against his. 

“It’s not a date. Not yet, anyways.” He whispers. “I’m asking you to come over this weekend so we can talk about things properly, because frankly, I don’t think either of us is in the right headspace for it right now.” 

“Should I be offended at that?” You giggle, not entirely sure what he’s alluding to. 

“No!” He snorts with a high tone. “Dopamine aside, our Norepinephrine and Serotonin levels are too high right now for us to have a proper conversation about this.” 

“I’m not saying that you’re wrong, because you’re not, but I also think you’re just using science to try and confuse me, so that I agree to wherever this speech is heading.” 

“It’s times like this where your attentiveness puts me at a disadvantage, because this tactic has a hundred percent success rate on everybody else.” He grins and you chuckle, both leaning in for another kiss. 

“Can we hold off on starting over? Just for tonight.” He reluctantly voices, not wanting to push any boundaries. 

You draw back and raise your eyebrows with your eyes widened. 

“Spence, I have waited for years for this. You’re insane if you think I’m giving that up without relishing in it for at least a night. We’re not starting over until we’re both officially back on the clock.” 

“Okay.” He heaves from relief, leaning in for another kiss, but quickly withdraws with a new question. “Don’t you think the team’s going to be suspicious when we’re not fighting tomorrow?”

“Forget them, what am I gonna say to Hotch when I ask to withdraw my resignation?” You huff out a tiny groan. “He’s gonna hate me for all this paperwork.”

Paperwork reminds you why you’re here to begin with. You audibly gasp, jumping off Spencer and scrambling to put your clothes back on. 

“Fuck! Spencer, get dressed!” 

Spencer doesn’t share your panic, but adheres to your demand. You mutter a continuous line of obscenities as you throw on your clothes and when you don’t seem to be getting calmer, he intervenes. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” He coos as he steps towards you, still undressed on the upper-half. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that we’ve been here for hours!” You shriek, now fully dressed. 

You push past Spencer and grab his shirt, deciding that he was too slow on his own. He lets you dress him as he probes further. 

“That’s okay. No one’s going to notice this late.” 

“No– Spence–” You sigh, throwing your head back. “In less than four hours, Hotch is going to walk into his office expecting the Anchorage report on his desk. I’ve barely been able to get half of it done in weeks, how am I going to finish it in four hours?”

You shake your head and begin working on his buttons. He grabs your wrists, urging you to look at him. 

“You’ll have it done in less than one. I’ll help you!” His voice is light, airy, soft and accompanied with a chuckle.

“Spencer, you’ve already been here later than you need to be. It’s okay–”

“Let me help you.” He resorts to pleading, releasing your wrists and cupping your face.

You don’t have it in you to argue, his eyes staring back at you with sincerity. He wants to help. There’s no point in pushing him away, because as scared as you are about being too vulnerable with your trauma from that case, you trust him wholeheartedly. You know he won’t push for more than what you choose to share right now.

“Okay.” You nod and smile into the kiss he leans in for after the confirmation. 

“Okay. Now, you go and start some coffee.” he instructs softly with a wide grin, waving to the scattered chess ensemble. “ I’m going to clean up here and join you.”

“I love you!” You lean for another kiss and hushedly exclaim as you break away, receding towards the door. 

It’s Spencer’s turn to lose his breath. He’s affirmed his love for you countless times tonight and this is the first time you’ve verbally reciprocated it. He knows that it won’t be the last time either. That, to him, makes him the luckiest man in the world. He stops you from going any further by your arm and gently yanks you in his direction, crashing his lips with yours. 

“I love you too.” He whispers after the kiss, letting you go. 

Heat rises in your face again and you struggle to hide a huge dopey smile, one that Spencer has too. You’re floating on cloud nine, finally out of the blurry hurricane you’ve endured for months. There’s still a lot of things that you need to work out, but the thought of them doesn’t make you feel dread like it once did. 

"One word frees us of all the weight and pain in life. That word is Love." - Socrates

Spoilers: Yapperoni (so much dialog in this chapter), BAU! Reader, enemies (kinda) to lovers, hurt, comfort, love confessions (they might be a little too sappy, idk, I was sleep deprived), the praise made me giddy at some point, smut but I edge you by not writing out everything, happy ending.

AN - I have a little tiny fear that people (me) will nawt (I don’t) fuck with this monstrosity, but out of all my drafts, this felt like the most natural course of action. I thought it would be really fun to go from friends to enemies to lovers. Now, literally nobody talk to me about writing fics after this. Uni’s started, so I’ll be very inconsistent for a bit. Casual reminder: I am not Spencer Reid. I don’t have an IQ of 187. Any facts I make him spew could very well be bull-shit and he only spews them for the purpose of the story. I also have no knowledge of how the FBI works and lack a ton of common sense. A lot of things were made up for the purpose of this story.

A comment today keeps semicolon away (from showing up to your house and eating all your snacks).

Thank you for reading!