#I'm sorry for not answering asks... I will come back soon :(

[inhurtandincomfort]

🧵 - Sew their lips shut for Eldwin

Thank you for the ask!! From this ask game

*+*

Eldwin knocked on the door to Clyde's office, three gentle raps on polished wood. He stepped back, smoothed the creases in his glove and waited until a dull "Enter," came from within. He opened the door and stepped inside with a small bow, his fist pressed to his chest.

"You wanted to see me sir?" Without raising his head, his eyes flickered around the room, taking mental notes; Clyde sat behind his desk as always, looking bored with stacks of paper in front of him. A window was on the left side, open today in warm weather with no breeze. They were on the second floor. A sheet was draped over one of the chairs - peculiar. Stood off to to the right, straight-backed with his hands clasped in front of him, looking pointedly anywhere but at Clyde, was Jowan. He perked up when he saw Eldwin, raising his hand in greeting. Eldwin gave a small nod of recognition before fixing his gaze to the floor.

"Come the weeks end, we will be meeting with some high-ranking government officials who are interested in our work," Clyde announced, leaning back in his chair with folded arms. "They will want to see you, and decide whether we are suitable to keep you."

Eldwin glanced up, careful not to make eye contact. Keep him?

"You are considered a dangerous specimen. We've invested a lot of time and money to be able to keep you for this long as a warlock; now you've proven valuable, the government want to seize you for themselves. I trust I don't need to spell it out for you."

Previously, his fear of being captured by authorities was because he would be executed. Since the aether harvests had apparently proved fruitful, he had a new fear - spending the rest of his life locked in a lab to serve as nothing more than an aether supply. The Black Syndicate were awful; but they at least gave him some level of freedom. He had to be grateful for that.

Clyde continued, "We are on good terms with the people in charge. But if they think for even a second that we don't have you completely under control, they will deem us unfit as your keeper. All that effort spent on you will have been a waste. I don't want that. You, certainly, do not want that." He rose and walked around to Eldwin, casting a towering shadow over him. "You understand what this means?"

"Yes sir." Eldwin nodded once, not moving from his respectful pose. "I will behave." This time he meant it. The blow to his pride was a small price to pay for freedom.

"There is no room for even the slightest error. We have plans in place to ensure everything goes smoothly." Clyde gestured to Jowan, who seemed to startle before he approached holding a small case.

With a hand on his shoulder, Clyde guided Eldwin to sit in the covered chair. And by 'guided' it was more 'subtly forced.' He could have ordered Eldwin to do so and he would have obeyed, but either he just wanted a little power trip, or he thought Eldwin might cause trouble.

Tsk. Faithless.

"I'm sorry about this." Jowan put on some medical gloves, and picked up a small bottle Eldwin recognised as a disinfectant used to sterilise surgical tools. "I promise it will be taken off as soon as they leave."

"Wait, what? What will?"

Clyde's grip tightened. "Stay still. We'll tie you down if we have to."

With a clean cotton pad Jowan dabbed the disinfectant over Eldwin's lips, gently tilting his head up for better light. He tried to speak, but a firm "don't" shut him up. It's not like he wanted a mouth full of cotton anyway.

His questions were answered when Jowan next pulled out a sewing needle, and some thread.

"Hey, the fuck- at least answer me, why are you-" A harsh tug on his hair made his head jerk back with a wince.

"I said we needed control."

"I have plenty of gags," which was something he'd never thought he'd say, but hey, there's a first time for everything. "Not to mention I am fully capable of keeping my mouth shut, you don't n-"

"Really? That's news to me. Total control means harsher treatment. They need to see that you are not being treated as a person, but instead like the irredeemable traitor you are," Clyde said calmly, "You can misbehave. They already know you're not submissive enough. What matters most is how I treat you, and proving that you can't cause too many problems no matter how much you try. That even when you want to lash out, you can be controlled. Now, be still. Or I'll make it worse for you."

You're fucking insane. He closed his eyes, taking in a shuddering breath. He didn't know why he bothered to be surprised anymore. Nothing was off-limits to these people.

And really, all things considered, it wasn't that bad. He'd been through worse. Way worse. The quiet sting of the needle piercing his skin was barely worth mentioning. As was the strange pull of the thread being pulled through the tiny holes. More of an odd feeling than anything. It's not like he'd never had stitches before.

He could complain about being silenced, but that's what the gags were for anyway. What was so different about this?

When Jowan was satisfied, Eldwin was sent back to his room with orders to not touch his lips, do not try to open his mouth, keep disinfecting the area, and seek out Jowan if anything goes wrong.

The first thing he did was throw the blanket off the mirror to examine the work.

It was neatly done, he thought. Nice needle work. Not like he could expect anything less from Jowan, of all people. At least it was clean. As a one-off, it wouldn't scar. Probably.

Calloused fingers gently ran across the black threads. He wouldn't be eating for the next few days, then. Could probably use a small straw for water, at least. Maybe he'd have to mix the mud-paste they called nutritional into water just to get some sustenance. Eugh. Or as it was only a few days, they may not even bother, he'd gone longer without food.

That might honestly be preferable.

He draped the blanket back over the mirror. His stomach twisted in knots, and would for the next few days. He hated these social gatherings as is, especially when it could decide the rest of his life. He didn't know what else Clyde had in mind, but as long as it kept him safe, he didn't care. He liked what he had now, really; it was better than being cooped up in a lab and turned into a brainless husk. He vowed to behave himself, do whatever it took to prove that the Black Syndicate could be trusted with him.

But right now, all he could do was wait.

[lixiesstorys]

The Flu, Littlespace And Lots Of Cuddles

Trigger warnings: emeto, fever, cuteness-overload (according to @eternal-stay who got a spoiler), swearing baby-bread

Little/Sickie: Chan (1 - 3 years old when regressed)

Caregivers: Seungmin, Jeongin

Words: 3333

Chan falls ill with the flu but not only that. He also regresses wich makes it even harder to take care of him...

When Chan came back to the dorms he felt horrible. Every muscle in his body hurt and he could barely keep his eyes open. The last week had been even stressier than normally and honestly, the Aussie couldn't even tell why. It was just too much and his mind constantly telling him that he had to regress didn't make it better in any form. But now it was definitely to late to do anything except sleeping.

Chan's eyes and limbs felt heavy when the young boy went into the bedroom he shared with Seungmin and Jeongin. Jeongin was only in there because the window in his and Changbin's room broke and had to be repaired first.

Not finding the strenght to change his clothes, the leader just layed down to relax his tensed muscles. Tomorrow he should feel better again, right?

Seungmin was woken up by someone softly shaking his shoulder. The vocalist groaned and turned to the other side. It was way too early to get up. He didn't know what time it was, but his alarm didn't ring, so it was too early. The boy wanted to close his eyes again, when he heard a shaky "h-hyung?". As fast as his eyes were closed, they were open again. Seungmin sat up and looked to where the voice came from. Next to his bed sat Chan with teary, glossy eyes. "Channie, oh my god, what's wrong?" Chan just sniffled and the vocalist hurried out of his own warm bed to kneel down next to the pale boy. As soon as he had sat down, the Aussie burried his head in Seungmin's arm and started to tremble.

Already assuming why his regressed friend woke him up, the physically younger one asked: "Oh sweets, are you feeling icky and little right now?" the little just nodded and Seungmin pulled him closer, sighing: "I'm sorry that you feel that way ducky. Can you tell me what is icky, love?" "Nuh uh" "please Channie, I can't help you if you don't show or tell me" "Nuh uh" "You can't or you don't want to tell me?" "Nuh uh!" "pumpkin, that isn't a real answer" "NUH UH!"

The vocalist tried to suppress a groan. Little Channie was cute when he was feeling well but he already knew that that wasn't going to be fun. The boy gently rested his hand on Chan's forhead and the little leaned into the touch, calming down a bit.

"Seems like you run a slight fever, honeybun. Can I bring you in the bathroom so we can look how high it is? And we won't wake Jeongin." this time Chan nodded and Seungmin stood up and placed the sick boy on his hip to bring him into the bathroom and sat him on the closed toilet seat. Then he searched in the cupboards for the thermometer. After a few seconds the vocalist found it and took Chan's temperature. "You're having a bit of a fever, bubs. We have to bring it down so you feel less icky, I think we have fever reducers somewhere. Did you already eat something?"

Too tired to say anything (or eat anything), the little just nodded. "Okay, sweets, that is really good! Then you can just take the medicine and get all comfy after that. Does that sound good?" when he recieved a nod again, Seungmin just filled the glass they always had in the bathroom with water, took out the fever reducers and kneeled down next to Chan. The Aussie looked at the small pill that his caregiver handed him. "Come on ducky, it won't hurt you. And you want to feel less icky, right?". Chan thought for a moment before he took the pill out of Seungmin's hand and swallowed it. "Very good, I'm proud of you, Channie! Now lets get some comfy clothes, yours are all sticky from sweating."

After changing in some dry clothes, Seungmin picked the little up. "Is it okay if we settle on the couch, pupmkin? Then we won't wake up Jeongin." Chan just burried his head in Seungmin's shoulder and shrugged. As long as his hyung would stay with him, he was fine with everything.

He was almost asleep when the vocalist placed him on the couch. "Shall I go, stay or cuddle with you, baby?" the little whined and reached out to Seungmin again. "okay sweetie, it's okay, I'll stay and cuddle with you, don't worry. Hyung's not going anywhere." The young boy sat down next to Chan and hugged him tightly.

A few minutes later he heard how Chan's breathing became slower and calmer and he sighed. For now the little was asleep, wich was good.

But only seconds later Seungmin heard how someone tripped down the stairs. Jeongin came into the living room, just like nothing happend. Good mor-" the maknae grew quiet again when he saw the older one's sharp gaze. His eyes wandered down to the little ball that was curled up in Seungmin's lap. "Is everything okay with Chan?" I.N whispered, worry crossed his eyes. "No, he has a fever, probably catched the flu and he is regressed, around 2 years I would say. And it's not morning, it's 3 AM, which is in the middle of the nigh-" "Oh poor thing! Can I do something?" he looked at his hyung. " *sigh* Maybe make him a bottle? He should stay hydrated." "of course, I can do that!" and with that, Jeongin walked back upstairs to take the bottle out of the box where Chan had all his regressing stuff in.

When he came back downstairs, the maknae didn't only carry a bottle with him, but a wolf plushie and a paci. "I thought this could be useful too" he said and handed the plushie and paci to Seungmin before he went into the kitchen.

Just a few minutes later, Chan opened his eyes again. He hadn't noticed that he fell asleep. The young boy grabbed Seungmin's shirt and pressed his face in the soft fabric. "Oh baby, you're awake. Everything okay?" the little just answered with a whine. "I think that is a no, hyung. But he is sick, so I wouldn't even ask." Jeongin came back from the kitchen with the now filled bottle. He crouched down next to the couch. Chan lifted his head and looked at his other caregiver with with tear-filled eyes. "You want to drink something, ducky?" the maknae softly smiled at him, but the Aussie just whined again and burried his head into Seungmin's shoulder. "Why not, pumpkin? Are you feeling too icky?" as an answer, he got a mix out of a nod and a head shake.

Now, Jeongin tried to get the little to tell or show them what was wrong, because he already had an idea, since the little normally always accepted the bottle: "is your tummy feeling icky, love?" Chan nodded, tears welled up in his eyes. "Oh Channie, please don't cry, it'll be okay!" Seungmin looked at his regressed friend, who had started to sob, with worried eyes. "Jeongin, can you take him for a moment? I would like to get a bucket, just in case." I.N nodded and they switched their positions. As soon as Jeongin sat down, Chan curled up on his lap, burrying his head in the other one's stomach. The maknae started to stroke the little's back to comfort the still crying Aussie. He also tried to offer the paci but only got an headshake as answer.

When Seungmin came back with a bucket, I.N had started to walk through the room, with Chan on his hip. The older vocalist was always surprised how strong the maknae was. Sure, Chan wasn't a heavy person, but with his muscular figure he made a strong contrast to Jeongin's slim body. Even tho the youngest member had a buffy figure, compared to Chan he looked so breakable. Or at least normally.

When the younger vocalist noticed that Seungmin was back, he smiled sadly at him. "I hate seeing Channie like this." he whispered and gently looked at Chan, who rested his head on his caregiver's shoulder. "Is your tummy still feeling icky, sweets?" Seungmin walked over to them and started stroking Chan's hair. The little whined and nodded. "Aww, poor baby boy. I wish I could make it could away, pumpkin, really!" "Maybe he caught a stomach bug?" Jeongin tilted his head a bit. "No, I don't think so. If he had a stomach bug, he would've thrown up already." the younger one nodded. "But why does he feel sick then?" "I don't know, I.N-ah. Maybe it's the stress of the last weeks. Or the fever."

They stood like that in the room for a while, Jeongin had started rocking the little on his hip to soothe him, at least a bit. For a few minutes it actually worked, but then, Chan grew restless again. He opened his eyes, burried his head into I.N's shoulder and whimpered softly. "Channie, what's wrong?" as an answer, the maknae just got more whimpering. Seungmin noticed how pale the little was, nearly whiter than the wall. "Jeongin, lets bring him to the couch" the other vocalist said and I.N followed him. With Chan in his lap, the youngest member sat down on the couch. The Aussie hid bis head in the other's neck and Jeongin felt how tears started to wet his skin and hair.

Seungmin slowly pulled the bucket closer to them, fearing that it would be too far away to react if needed. "Are you feeling any better, sunshine?" the menatlly oldest asked, petting the little's head. Chan just shook his head and Jeongin softly asked: "do you feel like you have to throw up, sweetie?" the little shook his head even harder and the younger vocalist hastened to said: "okay, it was just a question, sweetie, it's okay."

Once Chan calmed down a bit again, Seungmin whispered: "we should try to get him to sleep, at least for half an hour." I.N nodded and turned back to the little. "Channie, do you want to try to sleep? I bet you'll feel much better after it." the little just nodded, wich shocked his caregivers. Normally they had to nearly force him to sleep, no matter which age. But they took it as a win without questioning. "We'll bring you to our bedroom now, okay, baby?" Chan nodded again and Seungmin lifted him from Jeongin's lap and carried him back upstairs.

While the older vocalist tucked the Aussie in, the maknae dimmed the light. When he turned around again, he saw that Chan was already asleep. "We should let him sleep. Lets go" he whispered and the vocalists went out of the room.

Just 10 minutes later, Chan woke up in a dark room, he recognized as their bedroom. Trying to figure out what woke him, the little sat up. He blinked a few times, until he realized the cramps that shot through his stomach.

Chan hunched over, his arms around his middle. Shutting his eyes, the Aussie took a deep breath. Come on Channie, chu can do dat! Nuh bein smow wight now! Chu too much when smow! Taking another breath, Chan felt how his head started to throb while he came back to his original headspace. And that gave him the rest.

With a gag he leaned over the bucket Seungmin had placed next to his bed. he gripped the sides of it, when a retch brought up some bile and the fever reducers Seungmin had given him. Now, Chan remembered something: he forgot to eat before taking the meds. Cursing himself, the Aussie nearly choke on another sudden wave of vomit that came up his throat, which started to hurt from all the acid and bile.

After minutes which felt like a lifetime, Chan was only left with dry heaving. Just when he thought about what he was supposed to do next, the door opened and Seungmin bursted through it. "Channie? Everything okay?? I heard someone retch" he looked to Chan, who was still sitting on his bed with the bucket between his knees. "Oh god, sweetie!" "It's okay, Seungmin, I'll survive it" the older one's voice was raspy from the acid that still burned in his throat but he tried to smile at the vocalist. The other one sat down next to him, put the bucket down and started to rub slow circles over the leader's back. Chan bit on the inside of his cheeks, trying not to curl up into himself and cry. "Did you wake up big, Chan?"

Chan just nodded, avoiding the glances Seungmin gave to him. Then suddenly the vocalist spoke up, with his caregiver voice: "what did we say about forcing yourself out of littlespace, Chan?" Only those words were enough for the Aussie, who slipped immediatly and he started to sob: "Channie sowwi! Didn't wan ubsed chu!!" Seungmin's eyes widened, he didn't mean to make the boy cry. He quickly pulled Chan into a hug. "Hey, baby, it's okay! It's okay, little one! You could never upset me! I'm just scared for your wellbeing because forcing yourself out of being small isn't good for you, you know ducky?" "B-bud I too much when smow an nuh feewin wew." "Who told you that, pumpkin? Because that is not true! You aren't too much, no matter which headspace you are in and all of us love taking care of you!"

"Nuh uh!" the vocalist sighed a bit. When the little was showing his stubborn side, he knew that he was probably going to loose. Not this time! This time it's about him thinking we lie to him about loving to care for him!

"But baby, how do you know that that is true, hm? And why should we lie to you?" "Meanie woices say dat." Chan looked up to Seungmin, tears welled up in his eyes again. "Oh Channie! The meanie voices are lying to you, sweetheart! They want you to feel sad und not loved but you are! I promise! Now, do you want to rest on the couch with Jeongin and me for a bit? You didn't sleep long and must be exhausted after getting so icky."

Chan nodded and rested his head on his caregivers shoulder, while he was carried back in the living room.

"Is everything okay?" Jeongin raised his head from the kitchen table he had rested it on and looked at Seungmin who was carrying a still silently crying Chan. "No. He threw up and forced himself out of his headspace because he thought he is too much to handle for us." I.N's eyes grew wide and he hurried next to his two friends. The maknae started stroking Chan's back to comfort him.

After the little calmed down a bit, Seungmin sat down on the couch with him. "Jeongin, the bucket is still in the bedroom. Could you maybe rinse it?" the I.N nodded and walked out of the room.

When he came back, Seungmin was still holding Chan as close as possible and rubbed slow circles over his back. "Seungmin-hyung?" the vocalist and Chan looked up and stared at the officially youngest. "No Channie, it's okay, I just have to ask Minnie something." the little layed his head back on his caregiver's chest and closed his eyes.

"What is it, bread?" Jeongin just rolled his eyes at Seungmin. "When I rinsed the bucket, it didn't look like he had... eaten anything lately?" the older boy stared at him. "What?? Channie?" the Aussie opened his still-from-crying-red-and-puffy eyes again and looked up to his hyungs. The maknae sighed, before he crouched down next to the couch, so he was able to look in Chan's eyes.

"Ducky, please be honest: did you eat something before taking the fever reducers? We won't be mad, we just want to know." the little's eyes widened before he hid his head in Seungmin's chest again and started to sob. The older vocalist shot I.N a death glare before he started to comfort Chan: "hey, hey sweetheart, it's okay! We aren't mad at you, okay? We aren't mad, sshh, please don't cry, baby, it's okay"

After a few minutes, the little slowly calmed down. Jeongin opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by the little's voice: "sowie Minnie an Innie fow nuh bein honesd. dat wasn't wight ow me" Chan looked down and a tear escaped his left eye. "Channie, you don't have to be sorry! Of course lying isn't right but it doesn't change that we love you! We are just worried about you because taking pain killers or fever reducers on an empty tummy isn't good for you. But I think you know that now" Seungmin said and I.N added: "Hyung is right, pumpkin! We love you, no matter what! And I'm sorry that I made you think that we would be mad at you. Did I sound too scary or loud?"

But Chan shook his head: "jus thought chu onwie sain dat so i sai truf. sowwie!" "You don't have to apoligize for that, love! It's fine that you thought that! We would probably think the same if we would be in that situation." Jeongin sat down next to his friends and smiled at the little. "weawie?" "Really, baby!" The Aussie sighed in relief and curled up between his caregivers.

After a only few seconds his breathing calmed down. "I think he's asleep." Seungmin whispered and pulled a blanket, that layed on the, couch over the three. "Think so too. Damn, only... 4 hours and I'm so fucking exhausted." "Jeongin!" "Sorry"

Both (really exhausted) caregivers closed their eyes and not a minute later, all 3 boys were asleep.

Half an hour later, Minho came downstairs to make himself a coffee. But when he walked into the living room, his heart melted. The sight of the youngest members cuddled up with their clearly regressed leader was just adorable! After taking a picture, the dancer noticed the painkillers and fever reducers, he knew why they were all snuggled up together at 7:30 AM. Lee Know smiled sadly and went in the kitchen to make some tea and coffee.

While the coffee was brewing, Minho opened the skz groupchat.

SKZ GROUPCHAT 💀💀💀

I know you know Lee Know: *picture*

I know you know Lee Know: Guys, don't be too loud when you come downstairs. Our babies are sleeping and Channie isn't feeling well (Ig)

Fried Chicken: NAWWWWWW!! But poor Channie :(

Air Fried: Cute, I'm gonna scream!

I know you know Lee Know: @Air-Fried, don't you dare!!

Air Fried: Sorry!!

The dancer shook his head and went back in the living room. The maknaes seemed more tired than the little and that made Minho chuckle. But hey, at least they all get a lots of cuddles!

☆*: .｡. o_END_o .｡.:*☆

I did it!!! It's not the best and you can read that I wrote it while I was half asleep but hey, who cares :D? Next fic will be Han's part in the series and my mental health is pissing me off, so he'll have to suffer from it XD I hope you liked it and requests are still open ☀

[buglaur]

i've been playing the game in my own time but i gotta share this lil angel cus she's the cutest toddler my sims have ever had

[kindlythevoid]

Any Rewind updates coming soon? 👀

If I was a very lucky person. I'd say we might see one as soon as this Friday.

But then. It may not be a very good chapter, and it may actually be a part one of a chapter.

But if it is finished, and edited, and the people want the not-very-good chapter...

Then perhaps. Perhaps we will have one on Friday.

Kindly,

The Void

[couldtheysurviveshibuya]

I don't think this blog is getting you the most accurate results, Boss...

At least half of the people who've been suggested for the simulation fundamentally are incapable of surviving yet are voted to clear by the human followers. They're saying Aerith is the most likely FF7 party member to survive 3 weeks of the game despite the game shes from's story revolving around the fact she was doomed to an unfortunate fate and rather than struggle to survive by any means possible she chooses almost instantly to give up and sacrafice herself so the others can survive. Heck all of the characters from FF7's main party have multiple entrie arcs in the game where they're met with their past and immedietely give up to despair! Meanwhile the like 2 characters whos entire deals being surviving despite their terrible unfortunate fates and overcoming all their despair, Tifa and Yuffie, even lifting all of the other characters out of despair and being the exclusive reason the rest were able to in the case of Tifa, have practically NO votes.

They just kinda see a character they like or are familar with and vote yes I think... Not even mentioning the fact this is the Sakuraba Special specifically were testing for and how only a small few of them seem to actually take in the unique obstacles that offers opposed to a normal week! I know we have a human only rule, even if you have been pretty generous with it so far, but if we allowed it im pretty sure if we tested Sans they would vote for him surviving which goes against his entire deal I think...

Anyway not really my problem, my simulation, my job and I aint no snitch but if Atarashi or someone equally as annoying learns english or something and the higher ups get wind of it you could find yourself in some serious hot water.

Not sure if they'd be all too happy to know you've been off loading your work onto a bunch of random humans in another country let alone outside the city let alone accessible in the RG LET ALONE casually revealing the exsistence of the UG publically even if lampshaded under that one game they let that one guy make a while back.

Anyway don't expect me to stick my neck out for you if trouble comes knocking, theres a reason I'm sending this on my private account rather than using the reaper network lol.

First, I feel obligated to correct you on something: The Final Fantasy Party Poll is a Bonus Round, and I explicitly state it's only asking about surviving one week. Not the full Sakuraba scenario. No simulation is being run for it. It's just a little fun game to entertain you nymphs. No need to get up in arms about it. I'm actually considering doing more Bonus Rounds in the future, just to add some more variety.

More to the point: I'd say it's rather arrogant for you to claim "at least half" of the submitted player candidates are "fundamentally incapable" of surviving the Shibuya RG. For one, you seem to be implying that a vast majority of submitted applicants are succeeding when they should be failing and this is not the case. As of the current results, only 62% of the candidates tested have been declared capable of surviving. That's a majority, yes, but it's not an overwhelming one. And I feel I should note that the goal is to determine whether they could survive the Reaper's Game, not that they definitely would. These results are far from certainty, after all. The only ones I'd say are guaranteed would be the ones who score higher than 90% on their victory percentage, and that group only consists of 7% of the total candidates!

But also, who are you to make such a claim anyway? What sources do you have to support your claims that the majority would fail? It seems to me that instead of actually citing any actual evidence, you're merely expressing your own dissatisfaction at the results. Why should I listen to you? You have no way of guaranteeing the objective truth. Neku Sakuraba's circumstances were rigged against him from the start, everyone involved expected him to fail, and yet he survived anyway. That should be enough to conclude that any form of certainty is off the table. If you don't like my results, then cope and seethe. They aren't designed to cater to you.

And if the results are biased in favor of the contestants' survival, all the better! I want these little nymphs to survive, remember? I've never denied having this bias and I never will.

If this "isn't your problem" as you claim, then do me a favor and shut up, instead of spewing passive-aggressive meaningless threats. What, are you trying to scare me into changing the way I run this thing? Ha. Ha! Seems to me you haven't been paying much attention. First, I thought it's been pretty clear that Atarashi already reads these posts (btw Atarashi if you're reading this, I found that sweater you wanted, but if you want to know what shop is selling it you'll have to give me back my wallet). She does, in fact, know English. I'm pretty sure she's learned "annoying text speak" in every language on the planet at this point. Atarashi may be the bane of my existence but at this point she's complicit. She's not going to "snitch", she gets too much entertainment out of this, and I wouldn't be surprised if she's cataloging the results for her own purposes. Maybe she feeds the statistics to Minamimoto like dog treats.

Even if she did "snitch" as you say, what would she even be snitching about? Me not doing my job? I do do my job, surprising as that may sound. I'm a Harrier Reaper, I have a quota to reach every week and I do reach it. So Yashiro and the other higher-ups can't complain about me not doing it. When it comes to my simulation duties, usually the stuff I need to do is directly told to me by the higher-ups or other Reapers, and I make sure to get all that done too. This project, here? It's a personal project of mine that I do in my free time, which is one of the reasons I'm outsourcing it. Makes things go faster. I'm a Transposer, I have the tools to run the simulations however I see fit, and so I do.

That doesn't mean I can't get into trouble if things go awry, we all remember the Carmen Sandiego incident, but I think the fact that Yashiro hasn't fired or Erased me because of it is enough to prove that the project itself isn't going to get me in trouble. I just need to ensure its consequences don't expand beyond the project, and I'm good to go. And I've been getting a lot better about keeping things under lock and key.

As for revealing the existence of the UG, puh-lease. I know you have eyes, the people of this website clearly are completely aware of the existence of the Underground already. Otherwise I wouldn't be getting any results to begin with, now would I? I don't claim to fully understand how it works, but I'm pretty sure alternate universes and vibe levels are involved. Ultimately it doesn't matter to me as long as I keep getting the results I want. No need to be picky when everything is going according to plan. If these people knowing about the UG was a problem, then a bunch more people would have been punished long before I even arrived in Shibuya.

Even if I do end up in "hot water", as you say, I know how to weasel my way out. Shibuya is full of people with bleeding hearts, if that scumbag Minamimoto can get rehired as if nothing happened then there isn't anything a rando like me needs to worry about.

In conclusion, stay mad about it. Idk which UG you do your Reaper work in (Considering you HAVE Reaper Network access, there's no point in trying to hide that you are one) but it clearly ain't Shibuya, otherwise you'd have known a bunch of this already, I figure. And it also isn't Chiyoda, because otherwise you'd know how I managed to survive my original Reaper's Game. Direct antagonism I can tolerate, Atarashi may be a pest but at least she's entertaining. But if you try and pull this passive-aggressive nonsense on me again I'll purchase a yacht and drop it on you.

Stay mad, loser.

[meownotgood]

work has been kicking my booty lately (someone quit so I have to pick up hours lol) but the good news is that under the influence is almost done!!!!! I only have the very last scene and the epilogue to write, I think I can finish by valentines day 💪

[keebwee]

Wait what was electric bogalo callum like when he was “missing?” Was he happy? Did he enjoy it?

he definitely enjoyed it. the freedom, being able to fly around all the time, being in the clouds—it was amazing. of course that was ruined when they found him and got him into his room. he's all jumpy and twitchy. he can't move as much as he wants, he can't fly anywhere. it's like locking a large parrot in a tiny bird cage.

[hollowflight-propaganda]

🥀(for the WoF ask game)

🥀 Opinion on the Graphic Novel style?

I think it's good! I own the first 4 of them, but I've never actually read through any of them in whole. But yeah, I think it works for what it is! Some facial expressions are done very well, and I absolutely love how the NightWings are depicted.

[galaxywhump]

.

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being Caleb's non-mc significant other.

Imagine having a good night, everything was perfect, a good night out with your boyfriend. With the two of you spending the weekend after he came back from his mission. You have been waiting for a month now. He was quite the busy person, but it was alright. You knew he loves you very much.

"I have to go." Or so you thought, looking away from the big cinematic screen into your lover. "Why? Did they call you up for a mission?" You spoke quietly, trying not to disturb other people. "It's MC." Oh. "Caleb..." "I know, I'm sorry honey. But something came up and pips need me."

Imagine being numb for a moment, he was staring at you, looking for some sort of confirmation. But you were conflicted. You knew who MC was in his life, that was his best friend, that was his childhood friend, like a little sister to him. Of course you understand were he was coming from, two of them were basically each other anchor for a very long time. At the same time, "Caleb, this is the only time we have together. Can't that wait after the movie?" You asked gently.

Imagine you tried to understand. Really, you tried to understand over and over again. "Please Caleb, just after the movie. Can't we have this moment?" Just us? You want to add but kept your mouth shut. This always happened, and everytime you understand. But just this once, just this once, you are asking for his time to be sole yours, even just for an hour.

Imagine the way you watch him look away, look down into his phone then into his watch. It felt like he was running out of time. "Caleb..." You took a hold of his hand. He held it back, "..please." "what was that?" "Please don't make me chose between you and her." You swore you felt hour heart stop.

Imagine before you could even think, your mouth opens. "Why, because you'll choose her?" It wasn't even a question. Because deep down, you already knew the answer. Before he could even answer, you let go of his hand and and look back from the screen. "It's alright. You should go."

"I'm sorry." You heard him whisper but you did not look at him nor spare a glance. "I'll be right back as soon as I can." Taking a hold of your hand for a moment and giving it a squeeze, he stood up and kiss the crown of your head that you pretended not to care. "I'll be right back, okay?"

Imagine the rest of the movie was a blur, whether it was the heavy feeling on your chest, or the silent tears that was rolling in your cheeks. None the less you felt done, so done. He did not even answer, but his actions tells everything that is needed to be said.

Imagine arriving at your door in the middle of the night, going through your bag as you look for your keys and just as you find them, your phone rang, the name of the caller flashing as your lover. Heh, lover? Can you even call him that? You don't know anymore.

Imagine just staring at the call, then once again, the screen went black. You just look away and press in the key into your door. And you twist and open it, you heard your phone rang once again. But as you push the door open, all you were greeted by a rush of burning flame and a loud boom. Just like that, everything went black.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: part ²? What's that? It is what it is. Hahahehe.

Edit: part 2

[writersrkive]

Don't shut up | Spencer Reid

summary: Spencer is used to people who constantly tell him to shut up, but somehow, he feels even more embarrassed and sad when he thinks you want him to stop talking after looking at the tired and confused expression you have when he's trying to help you. The thing is you hate when people do that to Spence and would spend years just listening to his voice.

genre: fluff

pairing: Early seasons!Spencer Reid x bau!reader

warnings: mentions of the team shutting Spencer down. Derek and JJ being a little mean to him when he's spreading information. Spencer being a cutie potato. Mention of a stomachache and its causes (mention of miscarriage as one of the causes, but nothing happens). Reader not being a native english speaker, but just a slight mention.

a/n: Dr. Spencer Reid is a genius.... I am not. I literally had to search for information and copy-paste here in some parts, so if there's misinformation, it's Google's fault, lmao. I wrote this yesterday when I was about to sleep, so I'm sorry if something is wrong with the writing (even though I already edited). English isn't my first language, please be kind <3.

Navigation Criminal Minds masterlist Spanish ver. On Wattpad (coming soon)

Spencer and you arrived early that morning. He hated being late for anything. He couldn't afford to be late if he wanted to stick as closely as possible to his assigned schedule, especially because he took public transport. On the other hand, you had no choice but to arrive early when you woke up at four in the morning thanks to a severe stomachache and couldn't go back to sleep.

That's how your conversation started. Your genius workmate was surprised to see you, first hour in the morning, when he walked in the office, even before Hotch arrived.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. You couldn't deny that the expression was too cute for your own good.

“Yeah… I think so. It's not even the stomach ache that bothers me, it's the fact that even if I was sleepy, I couldn't fall asleep again. You know? That happens to me a lot. Once I open my eyes, I can't go back to sleep. I've also been feeling mildly unwell for a week, but even though the medication is controlling it, it doesn't stop."

At this point, he already set up his desk, leaving his briefcase on his own chair to walk over to you and sit at your desk, next to the chair you were sitting in, to listen to you attentively and answer.

“The brain works with different phases of sleep: light sleep, deep sleep, and REM sleep. The cycle usually restarts every eighty to one hundred minutes, and we typically have four to six cycles each night.”

Hotch came out of the elevator and walked upstairs after both of you waved at him, and he let out a soft “good morning”. Emily arrived a few seconds later. You greeted her too, as she took place on her desk, but that didn't stop your conversation.

“So, it's completely normal that we wake up in the middle of the night because of that process, but if it is frequent, for three months or more, it may be a symptom of insomnia.”

Your view went to the floor, and your head nodded in a semi-unconscious movement, because although you knew that your sleep cycle was ruined by work, you had not come to that conclusion, maybe that was it.

“Now, the stomachache…” He said, taking one pen from your pencil case to concentrate. He usually never took other people's belongings or shared his own stuff because of the germs, but somehow, after a few years of working together, he had come to have a good amount of closeness with you to borrow some stuff from you. Months ago, it hadn't gone unnoticed by Penelope that Spencer had a box full of pens reserved for you, in case you needed one, nor the fact that he denied JJ one of them once, when the blonde girl needed something to write with quickly.

“The causes can be the most common, such as gas, indigestion, a muscle injury, or stress. Although there are also more serious causes: gastrointestinal infections, inflammatory bowel disease, irritable bowel syndrome, ectopic pregnancy or miscarriage..."

“Wow, what are you trying to do? Scare her?” Derek's voice invaded the place and Emily smirked.

“What? No, I'm just saying the possibilities…” Spencer whispered, looking down, a little worried that he might actually scared the person he cared more, besides his mom.

“It's okay.” You answer loud enough so your friends and coworkers would hear. “Thanks, Spence. I already went to the doctor, so I have none of… those.” I gave him a little smile. “But about stress…” The sentence hung in the air, so Spencer looked up and continued speaking automatically.

“Stress can cause stomach pain because the autonomic nervous system of the gastrointestinal tract reacts to the same hormones and neurotransmitters as the brain. This is because the digestive system is connected to the nervous system, and the enteric nervous system, which is located in the digestive system, is able to send and receive impulses and assimilate emotions.” He started to talk faster.

Your focus on the genius boy and his explanation was sincere, but maybe it was the fact that you didn't rest well, plus the fact that he was speaking too fast and not vocalizing all the syllables, that for a moment your brain didn't process what he was saying.

It was weird. At some point you didn't even hear words, just sounds from his mouth. That didn't happen to you for a really long time because you already had experience with the native speakers, even if english wasn't your mother language. The exhausting feeling of not being able to sleep well was definitely to blame.

While your brain was coming to that conclusion, Spencer could only see your furrowed brow, tense jaw, tilted head, and dissociated look.

“You want me to shut up, right?” That whisper was enough for you to come back to reality. His cheeks were red and his eyes looked a little sad, not to mention the way his mouth formed a line like whenever he felt awkward.

“Yes, please!” Derek answered instead, leaning back in his seat and looking up with his arms outstretched as if he'd had to deal with seven unsubs in the five minutes he'd been there, listening from his place to the information Spencer was giving you.

“Little genius boy got excited… again.” JJ said, looking at some documents in front of her, opening her eyes wide in an expression of tiredness and disinterest.

The young profiler stood up from your desk thinking about returning to his chair, a little embarrassed, but you took his pinky with yours —that way you wouldn't make him feel uncomfortable in case he wasn't in the mood for physical touch, something he refused unless it was you. Again, another special treat—. “Wait. It wasn't like that.” Hazel eyes looked at you intently, still with a bit of doubt. “I'm sorry Spencer. Yes, you got excited, but that's not something bad.”

“It isn't?” He questioned.

“No, but you started to speak fast, and the fact that there are some words that I have a hard time processing in English and I couldn't quite catch what you were saying because I didn't sleep enough, well, that distracted me. Would you mind repeating it again, slower?” This time, you were the one with warm cheeks.

“Oh. Are you sure you don't want me to shut up?” The boy was actually intrigued and a little surprised.

“Why would I want that?” The fact that your teammates often shut Spencer up when he tried to share extra information, or information that he had been asked about, was something you had noticed from the moment you started working with the team. You thought that was rude. You understood that sometimes Spencer got excited, gave information that was perhaps better saved for another time since you were investigating a case, or people could be tired and want silence, but the team either silenced him or made fun of him most of the time. Plus, there weren't many other things you liked more than hearing his voice.

The sweet, soothing tone of his words helped you sleep on the jet after a long case, or made you want to hear more about whatever he was talking about. Feeling like he was sharing with you, a mere mortal, some of the vast knowledge he had was nice.

“I'm always happy to hear whatever you need to say, even if it's about something I don't understand. And, right now, you are helping me a lot, so, please, don't shut up.” The crimson color returned to the tall boy's face, this time not because he was uncomfortable. Your kind and somewhat complicit smile made his heart race, like almost every time he was with you. Spencer knew that no matter how tired he got, he would never shut up if you wanted him to keep talking.

[bi-writes]

Thinking about going into labor while your partner is on the way somewhere unimportant, who refuses to come home to help you. And instead of being alone and scared, you hang up and call up one of your childhood friends everyone thought you'd wind up with. Kyle shows up at your door, furious but does his best to hide it, and helps you through it all. Next day the father of your child has the audacity to show up like nothing is wrong to see Kyle holding your baby so you can take a well deserved nap.

he picks up on the third ring. you tremble, gripping the edge of the porcelain tub. when you finally hear his voice, just the sound of him soothes your beating heart, just a little.

"'ello, love."

"kyle?" you sniffle. his background quiets a bit. you hear a door close, and then he's a bit louder.

"hey, love. what's wrong? you sound upset."

"my water broke," you hiccup. "a-and i...i was in the bath...i-i..." you close your eyes. "i can't get out of the tub."

"jesus fucking christ." you whimper, but kyle just hums. "not you, baby. hey, you just relax, alright? you said you were in the bath. just relax, and i'll be there soon."

"kyle--"

"don't be scared," kyle chuckles, and you whine a little. "hey, you're gonna have a baby. you've been waiting for this, yeah? haven't you?"

"y-yeah..."

"aren't you excited? you always tell me how much you can't wait, right?"

"yeah..."

"don't be scared," kyle repeats. "you just relax. be happy. she's coming today!"

you smile, wiping your face a little, and when kyle hears your giggle, he sighs.

"good girl. you sit tight."

so you do. you lean against the side of the tub, and you rest in the warm water as you stare at your phone screen.

he won't answer the phone. he hasn't read your texts. he's not coming.

you hear the front door open and close, and then there's a gentle knock on the bathroom door. when kyle comes in, you try to cover up, moving your hands over your tits, embarrassed, but kyle just goes to look for a clean towel to help you out.

"it's okay, love, i won't look," kyle tells you. he smiles at you, cupping your face gently, and you look into his dark eyes. "you look so pretty. you're glowin', y'know that?" you smile through gentle tears, putting a hand over your belly, and you try to move, but it's no use. kyle drops the towel, kneeling, and you shake your head.

"i-i can't get out--" you gasp, and kyle rolls up his sleeves over his thick forearms, putting the towel over his shoulder before he reaches for you.

"it's alright. i'll get you out. i'll try not to look, okay?"

"i'm so embarrassed...i'm so sorry, kyle..." you sniffle.

"don't apologize, love. i got it. give me your hands, put 'em around me."

you lift up your wet arms, wrapping them around his neck. you press your chest against his, and he picks you up as you stand, helping you to your feet. as you cup your belly, he wraps the towel around you, covering you, and then he holds your hand as you step out of the tub.

"alright. now where's your bag, darling?"

kyle grabs your bag and supplies as you get dressed in your room. as you pull your socks on, kyle comes up behind you, smoothing your hair down your back before he starts to braid it. he used to braid your hair all the time when you were kids--he always said he wanted to practice for his sisters.

"you got the car seat, kyle?" you ask as he holds your hand, and he nods.

"mhm. in the car already."

"a-and the diaper bag?"

"in the boot."

"my extra clothes? and my...my stuff?"

"mhm. i got it, love. and whatever you forgot, i'll get it for you. alright, up, buckle in, that's a girl."

he holds your hand the entire way. you groan softly when a particularly painful contraction hits you, but when you squeeze kyle's hand, all he does is squeeze back. you take deep breaths, leaning your head back, and he hums.

"you're doing so well, love. so well."

"why..." your eyes water. you squeeze his hand again, and when you look down, your vision is blurry from your tears. "why didn't he answer? w-why...why doesn't he...w-why would he..."

"don't worry your pretty head about tha', love," kyle interrupts you gently. "only thing you need to worry about is you and her. i got it."

"o-okay."

she's beautiful. she looks more like you than her father, and kyle counts that blessing. she's got your eyes, your nose, your hair. her cheeks belong to her father, but she might as well be your twin, and when kyle takes her from you later that night, rocking her gently, he can really see up close how much she looks like you.

in the middle of the night, kyle holds your hand as you get up to go to the bathroom. your entire body is tender and sluggish, but kyle keeps you upright as you walk, kissing your head gently as he helps you take a seat on the toilet.

he even gets your underwear set up for you, with the big pad and everything, and he helps you step into it and slips them up and over your hips. you're a tearful mess as he does this, but kyle just presses his forehead against yours.

the look in his eyes, you will never forget it. the intensity. the commitment. the stability. every time you pick up the phone, kyle answers, and sometimes he's thousands of miles away. your own boyfriend can't even have the decency to answer when you're nine months pregnant--what did he fucking think the call was going to be about?

back in your room, kyle fits into the bed with you. he lets your rest your head on his chest, and when you ask him if he's going to go home, he tells you this is close enough.

in the morning, kyle's sitting outside your room with the baby. he's holding her, touching her little nose, letting you sleep in. you had a rough night, and when he found you still with your eyes closed that morning, he figured he would let you keep sleeping, just for an extra hour or so.

you deserve it.

"is that her?"

kyle's head turns with a snap. standing there, hands shoved deep in his pockets, is your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend. not man enough to answer the phone when you most needed him, not strong enough to do the right thing and marry you, and not wise enough to realize all he had to do was take care of you, and the world would be right again. you're not greedy. you don't ask for anything. all you want is to love and be loved, and kyle doesn't think that's too much to ask for, kyle thinks you're one of the most selfless women he's ever known, so why does this fucking bastard of a man get to call himself this girl's father?

kyle looks back down, fixing the blanket over your daughter's neck carefully. he thinks he did pretty good swaddling her this time, but you might have an opinion on it.

"i'm gonna say somethin', mate," kyle says lowly. "'n after i say it, y'r gonna do some thinking, real thinking."

he laughs a little, shaking his head.

"why don't you give me my baby, and get the fuck outta 'ere?"

kyle looks up and snickers, shaking his head. he gets a better grip on your daughter, sitting back, and he fixes your ex with a sinister smile.

"and what if i don't? you gonna take her from me?" kyle chuckles. "i'd love to see you try."

he stands, raising a brow.

"listen here, and listen close." kyle takes a step closer to him. "you're a right pile of shit comin' here thinking that you can just waltz right in and be daddy of the year, alright? what kind of man are you, eh? your girl in need, callin' you, and you don't even have the fuckin' balls to answer her? take a good look at your kid, mate, cause it's the last time you're ever gonna see her."

"no, i have the right--"

"to fuck right off," kyle snaps. "if i see you near her or her daughter ever again, i'll find you, and i'll make it worth your while, mate. make you feel real sorry finally, y'hear me? 'n when i take her back home, all of your junk better be out the flat. otherwise, i'll fucking burn it."

"kyle?"

your voice pulls him away. kyle adjusts the baby in his arm, going back inside, and he shuts the door behind him, finding your eyes. you reach for the baby, arms outstretched, and kyle easily sets her down in them, watching as you cradle the tiny thing into the crook of your neck and stroke the back of her neck.

the nurses come in and drop off a few papers. one stops, looking at kyle, giving him a big smile.

"congratulations," she tells him, and he smiles back at her. she takes a seat next to him, holding out a clipboard. "do you think i could get a few details? i just need to know mum's name, baby's name--"

kyle gives it to her. your birthplace. your birthday. your name. your baby's name. then she flips a paper over, putting her pen down.

"and dad's name?" she asks.

kyle sighs, leaning back in his chair. they don't give out birth certificates right away. you have to request it. you won't find out, not just yet, maybe he'll even pick it up for you. you'll be much too busy being mummy dearest.

"kyle," he tells her, flashing her that big smile. she blushes a little, writing it down. "kyle garrick."

he looks back at where you are, your eyes on him. you smile shyly when your eyes meet, and kyle leaves the nurse to come up to you and drape a hand behind your head. he strokes along your hair gently, thumbing at your temple.

"i heard you outside, kyle."

"did you?"

"and i heard you just now."

"mm."

you blink, reaching for the edge of his shirt, and you pull him down, further, until his face is nearly against yours.

"i guess i shouldn't be surprised," you say softly, reaching up to smooth a a few knuckles down his cheek. he leans into it, licking his lips, and you bite your lip. "you've always had a habit of...taking what doesn't belong to you, huh?"

kyle laughs. always the pretty boy, ever since you were little. one smile from him--kyle could get away with anything. anything at all.

"who says you don't belong to me?"

[ssahotchnerr]

Begging and pleading for reader hosting a dinner for the team since they just finished a rough case. No one knows her and Hotch are together, but start getting suspicious when he just?? Knows where everything is in the apartment?? Like he’s been there before??

right at home

i loveee a classic the-team-is-finding-out 🤭 cw; fem bau!reader, established relationship, mentions of food and drinking, fluff <3 wc; 1k

Sometimes, a little team bonding was the only thing needed to recover from a tough week.

After a brutal case that left everyone with a bad taste in their mouth, you jumped at the opportunity to host a gathering at your apartment. It was clear no one wanted to go home just yet; the darkness of the case hung over your heads and made the idea of being alone so soon unbearably daunting.

It wasn't anything extravagant, coming straight from the jet; ordering delivery from a local cafe - a slight, healthier alternative to  the usual takeout consumed on cases. Forgoing formal seating at your kitchen table and instead crowding on the carpet around your coffee table, a movie playing in the background, offered a casual and comfy atmosphere.

Sitting next to Aaron, you wished you could lean over and rest your head against his shoulder. Just for a second. Just long enough to breathe out some of the weight clinging to your ribs. You were glad the team was comforted by being together, but all you needed was Aaron. Only him and then you would be able to put this case in the past.

Plus, it's been a few days since you’d been physically affectionate. Long days in the precinct and out in the field made finding a private moment impossible, and with the team unaware of your relationship, it was impractical to do so much as hold his hand without being behind a closed door.

Little did they know, his overnight bag lay discreetly in your bedroom.

As if he could hear your thoughts, his eyes found yours, a gentleness to them as he silently checked in. Your own eyes briefly softened, relaying that you were fine.

"I'm so happy you all made it home to me unharmed and all in one piece." Penelope commented, her eyes flashing with relief. "Thank good gracious that's over."

"You and us both baby girl," Derek answered, dipping a veggie in some dressing. But as condiments with a thin consistency often did, it dripped off his piece of celery and onto the carpet before he could bring it to his mouth.

He grimaced, an apology in his eyes as they shot to yours. "Shit, I'm sorry mamas."

You waved it off, bringing your knees up to your chest and hugging them. "No worries. Nothing a bit of carpet cleaner can't fix."

"I got it." Aaron didn't hesitate, scrambling up and heading to your hall closet.

The quiet hum of conversation continued on. But after a moment, JJ’s expression shifted; a flash of confusion appearing so abruptly, it was impossible to miss.

How did Hotch know where you kept your cleaning supplies?

"JJ?" Emily asked, her wine glass pausing at her lips. "Something wrong?"

"No." She tentatively shook her head, but her eyes stayed on you, searching your face as if trying to read the things you weren’t saying.

And you weren't saying much. Oblivious to JJ's stare, you weren't acting out of the ordinary at all - taking a sip of your drink, eyes flickering back and forth amongst the conversation. But as Aaron re-entered the room, your face lit up the smallest amount. He handed the carpet scrubber to Morgan, and reclaimed his spot next to you.

You looked relaxed, happy.

Aaron did as well. Too relaxed and too happy, as if he felt at home.

JJ did, however, nudge Emily with an elbow. One that read: start paying attention.

"Morgan, make sure you-"

"I know how to clean a carpet, Hotch." Derek bantered quickly, causing a smile to tug on the ends of Aaron's lips, cheekily looking in your direction as a laugh escaped you. Satisfaction pulled onto his face.

Emily's eyebrows rose. Oh.

The next instance that brought questioning, you all had congregated to the kitchen - another round of drinks for some. As Emily distributed the wine, Aaron took it upon himself to help you rinse off dishes and put them away. Handling it in advance, and saving the two of you time later.

As far as the rest of the team was aware, this was the first time you’d had any of them over. Usually, everybody would meet at Dave's house (mansion, he would correct) or eat out at one of the many establishments populating DC.

But Aaron acted with practiced ease. He didn't ask you where something belonged, no lost expressions filled his face as he tried to determine where something maybe belonged. He just knew.

Spencer's eyes followed him, weighing all the variables. Sure, your dishes were in the closest cupboard to your sink; logically that made sense. Rather convenient, a quick and easy unload, especially given at your height. Was it common sense, or prior knowledge?

But what did he know? Genius or not, he’d never been good at reading subtle cues like those.

Aaron's hand even brushed the small of your back as he passed - something that could've easily been dismissed as a casual, friendly gesture - the kind people make when squeezing by. But there was a quiet familiarity to it, a natural ease, as if he'd done it countless times before.

-

"Are you heading out too?" Dave asked Aaron, his eyes narrowing at him in suspicion. It had gotten late, and everyone had begun streaming out - grabbing coats and tossing goodbyes left and right.

Meanwhile, Aaron lingered quietly in the background, his shoulder pressed lazily against the wall with his arms loosely folded. There was no urgency in his posture - just a calm stillness, as if he had all the time in the world and nowhere in particular to be.

"Why wouldn't I?" Aaron feigned confusion, suddenly debating putting his shoes on to make it more believable.

But he was soon distracted by you - giggling wildly as Penelope refused to release you from her tipsy embrace. Your laughter echoed through the room, unbothered and bright, as JJ - her ride home - attempted to unlatch her from you. Aaron's lips lifted in an almost-there smile.

"Mhm." That answered that. Dave smirked, a wise and knowing glint in his eyes. "Hope you two have a good night."

[spearofheaven]

⋆˚࿔ BEHIND CLOSED DOORS — office worker! nanami kento

SUM. when your husband’s secretary acts just a little too friendly around him

CONTAINS. 18+ content, MDNI. 1.1k+ words. x fem reader. semi-public sex. exhibitionism. cunnilingus. fingering. use of pet names.

"you need an appointment to see mr. nanami."

the receptionist spoke in a bored tone, barely looking up from her computer to give you a once-over. all the while she rolled her eyes and obnoxiously smacked her gum, like you were the one wasting her time.

but before you even had the chance to answer, the office door creaked open. "and i thought i mentioned that she could come in without needing one," nanami spoke up, appearing beside her desk.

the receptionist straightened up and busied herself with 'stacking' a couple papers on her desk. fluttering her lashes when she did look up at him, leaning forward just the slightest bit. "sorry, sir. you've just been soo busy and you did mention you didn't want anyone to bother you."

you honestly couldn't blame her, though. not when your husband had walked out of his office without his suit jacket on—the sleeves of his blue button down pushed up and showing off his watch. and well, the most important thing, his wedding ring. which she was blatantly trying to disregard.

"i'm aware. but you should know that doesn't apply to my wife, she's welcome to enter whenever she pleases," you could practically see her jaw clench as soon as he called you his wife, "please don't have me repeat myself. again."

"yes, sir. it won't happen again."

what she'd promised last time.

you stepped foot into the office, ceiling to floor windows decorating the space behind his desk. your heels clacked against the pristine floors, walking over to one of the wooden chairs.

"i brought you some lunch. saw that you forgot your bento at home and i wasn't sure if you brought any money to buy lunch," you spoke up, giving him a soft smile as you offered him the bento.

"thank you," he took the bento from you, setting aside, "but i think i'd like to have something different for lunch," kento cleared the space in front of him, patting on the wooden desk. a silent invitation. the skirt you had on rose up when you took a seat. the perfect offering if you'd ask nanami.

calloused hands ran down your legs, gently spreading them open. taking his time despite the thirty minute time constraint. "i'm sorry about her, by the way," nanami spoke up in a whisper, his lips pressing against your calf. "i don't know how much more obvious i need to be about being happily married."

his lips were reverent as he kissed up your leg, one of his hands holding the other in place. "like i'd ever want anyone but you, my love," he murmured, more so to himself, gently nibbling on your inner thigh. where only he'd be able to see them after. your legs spread apart almost instinctively, giving nanami the perfect view of the lace panties he adored so much.

and as much as he loved seeing you in them, the sight of you without them was much better. kento hooked one finger around the waistband, slowly removing them. sliding them inch by inch down your legs. "you didn't think we should hurry up, mr. nanami?" you questioned teasingly, pushing his hair back to take a look at his face.

"and why would we do that, mrs. nanami? i want to enjoy our time here," he pulled the underwear off, letting it fall to the floor. "well, you know you're sooo busy," you drawled, twirling a hair strand in between your fingers. he let out a small scoff, gently nipping at your leg in retaliation.

"never busy enough for you, you know that," kento’s voice came out muffled, licking a stripe up your cunt. he swirled his tongue around your clit before moving down, running the tip of his tongue down your folds. "never?" you mused, looking down at nanami. he wasn't paying that much attention to you anymore—rather, just your pussy.

"never," he muttered offhandedly, pushing a finger inside of you. your heels dug into his shoulder blades, your back arched when kento curled his fingers to hit your g-spot. and while it'd hurt at first—it was a pain that nanami was more than welcome to receive if it meant getting to lose himself in you.

your nails—paid for by yours truly—tugged on his hair, pulling him closer to your dripping cunt. kento clicked his tongue, looking up at you, "come on, use your words. tell me what you want and i'll give it to you."

"more, please," you responded almost immediately, your grip on his hair loosening up. just a bit. he replaced his tongue with two fingers, slowly getting past that initial resistance before pushing them in and out of you.

even with his glasses fogging up with every heavy breath that he took and your slick covering his mouth and chin, nanami continued to push his fingers inside of you. coaxing out all the pretty little noises you were making. "you can be a little louder, no? just a little bit, sweetheart," nanami curled his fingers, drawing out a whine from your lips.

you dripped onto his digits with each thrust, the golden wedding band on his finger glistening against the office lights. "k-ken, don't stop," your nails dug deeper into his hair, messing up the time he took fixing it this morning. you weren't even sure what was louder anymore—the squelching in between your legs or your moans.

your thighs clamped tightly around his head, holding him in place. "open them, darling. you can take it, you even asked me for more," kento felt the way your legs trembled—the way you were almost hesitant to open your legs again. you were close. "too much, too much," your moan had come out louder this time—loud enough to bleed through the walls.

not that it mattered.

you felt that familiar pressure build up in your lower tummy, your legs threatening to close again all the while your toes curled against the leather heels. too much, you'd said, and you still found yourself needing even more. "cum for me sweetheart, you can take it. take what's yours," his words served as a final push, your orgasm washing over you like a wave.

nanami pulled his dripping fingers out from your cunt and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping them off. effortlessly, he wiped away the spit and slick dribbling down his chin before carelessly tossing the handkerchief to the side. like it was nothing more than just a bother.

your chest heaved as you leaned back against the desk, watching your husband stand up from his spot. a wet patch adorned the front of his khaki pants, his cock practically twitching against the confines of his boxers. "i think i'll just skip ahead to the main course."

needless to say, you didn't have any more trouble coming into nanami's office after that <3

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTIKTOK TREND: CALLING MY BOYFRIEND'S BROTHERS * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　Where Y/N and Matt do the TikTok trend 'calling my boyfriend's brothers to see if they would cover for him'.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　none.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

"Okay, ready?" Matt asked, lifting his thumb above the screen as he hovered over the red circle inside the TikTok app.

They were both sat on her bed, Matt’s socked feet crossing over hers at the foot of the off-white comforter covered mattress, her shoulder leaning into his comfortably. The phone was perched at arm's length, front camera facing them, perfectly angled to catch both of their faces.

Y/N adjusted herself slightly so she was fully in the frame, brushing her hair behind her ear so her face was fully seen.

"Yeah." She nod. Matt tapped the screen, and a countdown blinked.

3... 2... 1...

As soon as the camera started recording, Y/N turned to it with an excited smile.

"Hi! So, I’m about to call Matt’s brothers, Chris and Nick, and pretend that Matt told me he was going to them a few hours ago. But he’s obviously right here, so we’re gonna see if they cover for him or not." She said rapidly, her words tumbling over each other.

Matt leaned into the frame with a nod.

"Try Chris first." He said, eyes glinting with anticipation.

Y/N turned her head to give him a raised eyebrow. She held the expression for the camera, too, before letting a crooked smile slip as she looked down at her own phone, her fingers already scrolling her favorites list.

"Alright." She muttered, finding Chris’s contact and selecting it. She pressed the speaker and quickly moved her phone closer to Matt’s so his phone could catch all the audio.

The dial tone filled the room, ringing for some seconds.

Matt tilted his head, whispering.

"He’s not gonna answer. Watch. I bet he’s like passed out or somethi-"

But before he could finish that sentence, the ringing stopped.

"Hello?" Chris’s voice came through, slightly raspy like he had indeed just woken up.

Matt’s lips snapped shut. He stared at her phone, frozen.

Y/N’s voice was suddenly sugar-sweet.

"Hey, it’s Y/N."

"Yeah, I know it’s you." Chris replied instantly, with the most guy best friend-coded dry tone ever. "What do you want?"

Y/N’s shoulders shook with a held-in laugh.

"Matt left my place a few hours ago, said he was going back home, but he’s not picking up his phone, so I just wanted to check..." She started, trying to keep her voice casual. "Is he there?"

The other end of the line went quiet.

Matt leaned forward like he was about to climb through the speaker. His eyebrows raised as the silence dragged.

"He said he was coming home?"

Y/N widened her eyes at Matt, giving a subtle nod to her phone.

"Yeah. Like two hours ago."

"Oh... yeah." Chris said, and Y/N's mouth dropped open. "Yeah, he is. He got here like a little while ago. We were actually thinking of streaming soon."

Matt whipped his head to look at Y/N, then to her phone, then back to her. He looked surprised that Chris would actually cover for him but was afraid of Y/N's reaction at the same time.

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

"Oh, okay, cool. Could you pass him the phone real quick? I just need to talk to him for a sec."

There was a beat.

"Uhh... I think he’s sleeping." Chris said, voice feigning uncertainty. "He just went to his room."

Matt pressed his lips in a thin line, his whole body trembling as he tried not to burst into laughter. His knees came up instinctively, curling in as he looked at Y/N.

Chris was a terrible liar.

How could they be planning to stream if he 'just went to his room'?

Y/N tilted her head at the phone.

"Oh. Hm. Could you wake him up? It’s kind of important."

Another pause.

She raised her brows and slowly turned her head to Matt with eyes that screamed 'he’s about to give up'. But instead, Chris's voice returned, smooth as butter.

"Yeah, hold on. I can do that. Gimme a sec."

The faint sound of rustling blankets and a bed creaking came through the speaker, as if Chris had actually gotten up.

Matt squeezed his eyes shut, shoulders bouncing as he laughed into his hand, trying desperately not to let a sound, the phone in his hand shaking with his movements.

Y/N looked at the camera, then back at her phone when more sounds kept echoing from it.

Thump.

Rustle.

Creak.

The sound of a bedroom door opening. Then faint, echoing footsteps down a hallway.

Thump-thump.

Thump.

Stairs?

"No way." Y/N whispered, jaw slowly dropping. Her hand hovered over her mouth, eyes wide in absolute disbelief as her phone blared the unmistakable sound of Chris stomping upstairs. "There’s no way he’s actually going to your room."

Matt was frozen next to her, frowning while trying to control his breathing from his laughter.

Then, click.

A door opened.

And a light switch flicked.

Y/N let out a little gasp, turning to Matt, mouth half-open in shock.

"Did he just-?"

Matt’s eyes traveled to her from her phone screen.

"I think so."

And then, Chris’s voice came through again. Muffled at first, like he was calling into the void.

"Matt? Matt!"

Y/N’s hand flew to her screen, muting her side of the call so fast it nearly slipped from her grip.

"Oh my god." She blurted out in a loud laugh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "He’s actually trying to wake you up."

Matt, beside her, laughed just as hard, shaking his head in disbelief, his phone wobbling in his hand as it continued to record.

Chris didn’t stop.

"Matt, wake up."

"Wake the fuck up, Matt."

"C’mon, dude. Your girl wants to talk to you."

Y/N slapped a hand over her face, muffling her laughter against her palm so it wouldn't disturb the call audio. Matt leaned his head back, lips trembling, hand on his stomach like he was in physical pain.

"Thank you for muting it." Matt muttered, so only Y/N could hear him. "I would’ve choked if I had to hold back any longer."

Y/N’s nodded, silent tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She was trying so hard to be respectful of the bit, but it was a losing battle.

And then Chris’s voice echoed louder, like he was back to talking to Y/N - and not "Matt" -, letting out a dramatic sigh.

"Y/N, I don’t know what you gave to him." He said in complete deadpan. "But he won't wake up for anything. You put him in a coma or something."

Y/N took a deep breath, biting her lip so hard it actually hurt. She unmuted her phone with a shaky thumb, still snorting between breaths.

"He isn’t waking up?" She asked, voice cracking with the effort to sound normal.

Chris didn’t even hesitate.

"No. I literally shook him. I yelled in his ear. He didn’t even move. I’m not even sure he’s breathing, bro."

Matt, curled up beside her, let out a strangled squeak as he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, laughing so hard but still trying to keep it quiet.

Y/N’s lip wobbled from trying to suppress a smile.

"Alright, well- uh... can you tell him to call me when he wakes up?"

"Yeah, yeah." Chris said like he was already on his way back downstairs. "I’ll try again in a few, or I’ll text you. He’s probably just dead tired. I gotchu."

"Thanks, Chris." Y/N managed to say through clenched teeth.

"Mhmm. Talk soon."

Click.

Y/N dropped the phone onto the bed like it had burned her. She didn’t even have time to recover before Matt’s phone started vibrating in his hand while it was still recording.

Chris.

Y/N and Matt made eye contact, stunned for half a second before the hysterical laughter burst out of both of them simultaneously.

"He's calling me." Matt said to the camera, voice raspy from laughing too hard.

Y/N leaned closer to Matt, cheeks still warm from all the laughter, her voice slightly breathless as she spoke directly into the front lens.

"Alright. Time for Nick. But I’m gonna switch it up a bit ‘cause he’s at the Space Camp office today for some meetings, so if I say you were supposed to meet him there, he won’t be as suspicious."

Matt, leaning back on one elbow with a squint in his eye, let out a low hum.

"Bold of you to assume Nick’s gonna cover for me. You know we’re not the glue here."

Y/N gave him an innocent glance.

"What do you mean?"

He smirked and gestured vaguely at her face.

"You and Nick are like, glued together. He’s obsessed with you. He’s gonna throw me under the bus faster than you can say lip balm."

Y/N dramatically rolled her eyes.

"You’re just scared."

Matt made a pfft sound.

"Yeah, right."

With that, Y/N pulled her phone back up, scrolling through her contacts until Nick’s name popped up, paired with about seven different sparkly emojis and a shooting star. She grinned, tapped 'call', set it on speaker, and moved her phone next to Matt’s again.

It didn’t even ring twice.

"Hey, queen!" Nick’s voice chirped through the speaker, a little too loud and echoey from what was clearly a busy office.

You could faintly hear a door closing, chairs scraping, and someone saying 'That’s not the right shade for the summer launch' in the background.

Y/N’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Nick! Hi!"

Matt groaned and covered his face with his free hand. Y/N slapped his thigh to shut him up, trying not to laugh.

"Um, I’m so sorry to bother you at office day." She continued, letting her voice take on the sweet, clueless tone. "But Matt left my apartment a few hours ago and said he was coming to your office? To help out with the Space Camp shoot or something? He’s not answering his phone, and I was just wondering if he made it to you okay."

There was silence on the line.

Y/N’s smile grew slow and devilish as she waited.

"... He said he was coming here?" Nick asked, his tone completely suspicious, laced with genuine confusion.

Matt pressed his lips in a thin line. Nick would kill him.

Y/N nodded.

"Yeah." She replied sweetly. "He said he was gonna help you take some pictures?"

There was another half-second pause.

"That little bitch."

Y/N choked, slapping her free hand over her mouth so fast she nearly knocked her phone off the bed. Her shoulders shook violently as she turned wide eyes on Matt, who looked deeply offended.

"I told you!" Matt mouthed, pointing at her with a betrayed look.

Nick continued, completely unaware of the chaos he’d caused on the other end of the line.

"No. No, queen. He did not come here. He never told me he was coming here. I even asked him this morning if he could pick me up after the shoot, and he had the audacity to say no because he was spending the day at your place." He sounded like he was pacing now.

Matt’s hand was now covering both his eyes, shaking his head.

Y/N slowly lowered her own hand, trying to breathe.

"Wait... so he’s not there?"

"No!" Nick practically yelled. "He hasn’t even stepped foot into this building today. This man lied to your face. He betrayed my trust. And he skipped being my chauffeur."

Y/N sent a pointed look to Matt. She always told him to pick Nick up if he asked for it, or at least make Chris do it.

Matt squinted at her, whispering as lowly as possible so Nick wouldn't hear.

"Don’t you dare side with him. He called me a bitch."

Nick continued on the other side of the phone.

"Did you try calling Chris? Maybe Matt went home. You didn’t check with him?"

Y/N let out the most exaggerated sigh, forcing her brows to furrow and her voice to drop.

"No... no, I haven’t. I-I just figured if he said he was with you, then..."

Matt raised his eyebrows at her acting, but she waved him off.

"Oh, sweetheart." Nick said gently, his entire tone doing a 180. You could hear the pout forming on his lips. "Hey. Listen to me. I’ll try calling him, okay? Both Matt and Chris. I swear, if that little fucker is playing hide and seak, I’ll find him. But I promise you he wouldn’t do anything wrong."

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek to hold back a smile and nodded seriously like she was actually worried Matt had evaporated into thin air.

"Okay. Please, just let me know as soon as you find out anything?"

"Of course." Nick replied immediately. "I’ll call you the second I get anything. And if he doesn’t pick up my calls, I’m going to kill him myself."

Matt raised an unimpressed brow and muttered a low 'Charming', rolling his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out of his head.

Y/N beamed.

"Thanks, Nick. Oh, and when the shoot’s done, lemme know, and I’ll come get you, okay?"

Nick gasped dramatically.

"You’re the best. See, Matt could never. Love you, queen."

"Love you more." Y/N chimed before tapping the screen to end the call.

As soon as the line disconnected, she turned slowly to Matt with a look that could only be described as smug. Chin high, eyes gleaming, she crossed her arms and tilted her head.

"Nick passed." She announced. "He would never lie to me. Not even to save your sorry little ass."

Matt raised both brows in surrender and shrugged, looking toward his still-recording phone.

"I told you he wouldn’t cover for me. That man would rat me out to the FBI if it meant you’d still do his nails next week."

Y/N smirked, reaching over to grab one of her throw pillows and hugging it to her chest, feeling victorious.

"And for the record, yeah, Nick really would beat the shit outta me if I ghosted you for two hours-"

His words were interrupted by a soft chime echoing from Matt’s phone. At the top of the screen, a message banner rolled in from their shared triplet group chat.

Nick:

@Matt WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?

Y/N froze.

Matt blinked once, twice, then turned slowly toward Y/N.

"Well, he said he would chase you down, so..." Y/N shrugged, smiling.

RING RING.

The phone echoed into a vibrating buzzing. It was Nick. Calling Matt. Y/N’s phone started ringing two seconds later, and Y/N's eyes were quick to meet the caller ID, Chris. Now he wanted answers, too.

Matt stared at the double call screens with dead eyes.

"I have never regretted anything faster in my life."

© vanteguccir

[parfaitblogs]

love language ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you come home after failing a test, and spencer reid helps you feel better — in a few different ways. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut (18+ mdni) tags: college!reader. unspecified age gap. oral (f receiving). fingering. praise. sorta soft dom spencer. losers in love.  word count: 1.9k a/n: i once was doing so awful on a chemistry test my teacher stood in front of my desk and spoon fed me the answers at lunch once everyone else had left. this is for my angel piper wiper who heard about this idea and then asked for it to be a chemistry test. even though it already was. and also bc she leaves tomorrow :((

"I fucking hate chemistry!"

He can hear your voice before he sees you. Before the jingling of keys falling into the bowl next to the front door, and before the sound of your footsteps against wooden flooring. Perched on the couch, Spencer's head lifts from the nearly complete Sudoku puzzle in his lap, and finds the ears-steaming, grumbling ball of frustration that is you, angrily walking into his apartment. 

"You were telling me just yesterday about how cool you think it all is," he replies, placing the puzzle down on the coffee table as you manoeuvre around to stand in front of him. 

"That was a past me. A me who had no idea what she was getting into. She's been cheated, played for a fool," you snap, "chemistry fucking sucks."

"Do you have context coming soon, or are you just going to keep insulting chemistry?" his head tilts, arms reaching out to coax you into them. 

You relent quite easily, climbing into his lap and burying your face into the space between his shoulder and his jaw. Your lips move against his skin, voice muffled as you mumble, "I failed."

"You failed?" he repeats back. "The test?"

"Mmhm," your head moves in a nod, hair tickling his jawline. "By one mark, mind you. One. I don't even..." you jerk back suddenly, eyes blown wide as you stare at him, "Spencer I studied for days. Weeks. I had you helping me. You were confident I'd do really well!"

Tears prick the waterline of your eyes, and his heart cracks a little in his chest. He doesn't enjoy seeing you like this, and yet he's sure there's very little he can do to make you feel better. Academic guilt is too high of a hurdle to jump over just like that.

"I know, honey," he's pulling you back in with gentle hands, hands that entangle in your hair, followed by lips that kiss your jaw. 

"I don't understand," you huff. "I don't fail, Spencer. I don't."

"You're spiralling," he comments. How observant.

You nod your head, falling silent as you let every complaint and word of frustration manifest on your tongue, and then swallow them down. You know it won't help, talking deprecatingly about yourself, and it certainly won't change anything. 

"Sorry," you finally sigh, and you can feel him shake his head against your own.

"You don't need to apologise to me. I know how you're feeling."

"No you don't," you grumble, though there isn't any malice behind your words. 

He pauses, then, "No, I don't." 

It makes you laugh, quietly, face burying in his chest as you end the laugh with a groan. "I hate your stupid smart brain. I hate that you're smarter than me."

"I don't think I'm smarter than you," he says, and you fight back a scoff. 

"Yes you do," you narrow your eyes at him, pulling back just so he can see your glaring gaze. He barely even flinches, even goes so far as to let a humoured smile stretch across his lips instead. 

"Objectively, I am. I'm smarter than most people."

"Humble, too."

"Shush," he bounces his knee to nudge you, and you only reply with a giggle. "But, I find your brain fascinating. I wouldn't be with you if I didn't. You're beyond smart to me."

"Not smart enough to pass a stupid college chemistry test, though."

"It was one test, honey," he murmurs. "It doesn't define how smart you are. It won't matter in a year, anyway."

"I know," you sigh. "Still."

His hands are warm on your skin when he brings them down to your thighs, a comforting touch, as he brushes his lips against your nose. It crinkles as you smile. Again. A black hole opened in the pit of your stomach, yet a few simple words from your boyfriend, and you're unable to wipe the joy from your face. 

"I think you're the smartest person I know," he says, lips moving down to your neck and, at the same time, his hands find their way to your inner thighs. You don't have it in you to argue with the statement, instead letting a contented sigh fall from your lips. "And the prettiest," he presses a kiss below your earlobe, "and the kindest."

"Flattery won't get you into my pants, Reid," you mumble, and his breath fans against your skin as he laughs. 

"Not flattery," he replies, fingers digging into your thighs. "I do think I am successfully getting into your pants, though."

"Mm-mm," you deny him with a shaking head, smiling lips hiding away against his chest. 

"No?" he feigns shock, careful with his movement as he stands from the couch, you still in his arms. "I think I am."

"I think you're delusional," you say. "I'm sad and stressed out. Stop taking advantage of me. You're terrible. Insatiable, some could say."

"Just trying to help ease the stress," Spencer replies, and he's forgiving as he lays you down on his bed. Evergreen cotton surrounds you, and you relax into the embrace of the smell of him. 

"Uh-huh," the fight leaves your body the second his head is at your stomach, and instinctively, your legs part for him.

"Uh-huh?" he mimics back to you, but his lips are making a strong point on the sides of both knees, and all of your arguments evaporate. 

"Spencer," you say, and though it's supposed to be a scold—for his slow teasing, his mocking—it comes out on a breath. A whispered moan, that only prompts him to go further. 

"I know, pretty girl," he says. You hate how easily he gets you flustered. 

His hands hook under both of your knees and bend them, palms sliding beneath your thighs. Featherlight, and erupting a path of goosebumps in their wake. 

Brown eyes meet with yours, a kind gaze liquidising every cell in your body as you nod, and he's baring you to him with a gentle tug of fabric. For a moment, you focus on the glaze in his eyes, dilated pupils as he watches for your micro expressions. 

Then, he's back to kissing you. Your thighs. You lose any train of thought about how beautiful his eyes look when they are locked with yours, and are reduced to surface level emotions as his lips travel higher up your legs, and his breath is suddenly directly over your cunt. 

Your tense, anticipating muscles relax almost instantly the second his mouth is on your clit, rolling his tongue over it, white hot pleasure shooting through your veins. 

Like a trigger, your vow of silence breaks, and you're already sighing out his name amidst a string of moans. Never relentless, your eyebrows pinch and your mouth falls open as his tongue flicks against your clit. 

Your hands—desperate for something to grasp onto that isn't sheets pulled too tight over a mattress—find his, fingers interlacing together just as his tongue drops to dip around your entrance. 

Every single thing you do he memorises into storage in his brain. Every twitch, every eyelash flutter, every nails-digging-into-palm squeeze. A silent prayer of gratitude to whatever resulted in his eidetic memory, for there are these sights of you so beautiful he desires to replay them well into his afterlife. 

Every weighted self-doubt from the past two hours dissipates inside of you, fading to dust under the power of his lips on you. 

Your head falls back as he lifts his own and stubble grazes against you, tongue circling your clit once again. His alternating between abusing the bundle of nerves and teasing your wanton entrance, combined with the approaching two full weeks of being too busy to entertain the concept of a sex life, results in a steady knot forming in your stomach. 

"Spencer," you say his name, again, and his hands squeeze yours in recognition. The sound of your voice—cracking from pleasure—and the way your hips twitch and attempt to lift from the mattress key indicators to your approaching orgasm. "Spencer, please," you're begging for no reason. You know he'll give you what you want no matter what you do. 

He registers your orgasm. You know he does, because his hands slip out of yours and instead return to your thighs, holding them in place in a bruising grip. A silent scolding for your writhing, that has your heart stuttering in your chest. You know he does, because his tongue slows slightly as you ride out the last of it, gentle as he works you back to normalcy. 

Then, you have to question if he registered it at all. As quick as he was to ease you through your high, his tongue never gives up, and he's still going. 

"Spence—no, mm-mm," you choke out, the pleasure building with a speed and intensity you'd all but forgotten in recent days. "Please."

"One more," he says, meeting your blown-wide eyes. He cuts you off when you go to protest, "You can. I know you can. C'mon, angel."

"I can't," you moan, again, but there's the undertone of desperation that says otherwise. 

"You can," he repeats, pulling back and replacing his tongue with his fingers. Slipping two through already wet folds, and flicking your clit. "Look at you, you're doing so well for me, honey."

"Too much," you argue, neck stretching as your head presses into the bed beneath it. "Spence—ah."

"No it's not," he replies, and you glare at the ceiling because, shit—he's right.

"Yes it is—oh fuck," you shudder as a finger pushes into you, his thumb replacing it at your clit, and your nerves near explode. "Please."

"Need to come again?" he asks, and watches as your head frantically nods in place. 

He adds a second finger and you whine at that. Then, he curls them inside of you, and you whine again. 

"Words, honey."

"Yes—fuck—I need to come again. Please, Spencer. Oh, God," your hands fly to his wrist, fingers wrapping around it and nails digging into his skin. He barely even reacts, your grip weak, and his determination strong.

It feels like milliseconds between your begging and when he pulls you over the edge. It could've been hours. 

"There you go," he murmurs as you let out a shuddering breath as the high passes, and your hands fall limply by your sides on the bed. 

Silence fills the air, nothing but the feeling of his fingertips mapping out your skin as your drunken eyes stare at the barely there detailing on his bedroom ceiling. For a few minutes, you bask in it, smiling to yourself as dopamine and oxytocin and whatever other hormones just released by your body swirls within you—really, you could just ask Spencer. Covering up the stress from earlier easily. 

"Hey," you tilt your head down to look at him, his head now on your stomach as he lays atop of you. He lifts his own, eyebrows furrowing in question. "Up top," you raise your palm.

"What?" he's confused. 

"High five. That was my first orgasm in two whole weeks. I think that's a personal best for us," you say, and he blinks once, then twice, and then laughs, and weakly slaps his palm against yours. 

"Go to the bathroom. Loser," he rolls off of you, nudging you off the bed and towards his ensuite. 

"You are the textbook definition of a loser, by the way. Keep your mouth shut," you say with a pointed look, lazily swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. After a few more minutes of contemplating it, you finally stand up. 

"Go."

You disappear into his bathroom in a fit of giggles.