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darkmatilda · 2 days ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you got used to running away from the consequences of your actions, but it turned out to be incredibly difficult when the consequences are your coworker and their name is spencer reid.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x fem!baureader, canon typical violence and topics, season 1/2 reid, GLASSES REID, queen elle greenaway herself, gideon being a little creep (as usual), reader clearly ovulating lmao, mention of a trauma connected with drowning, mention of one night stands of the reader, inspired by taylor swift song "the bolter", dominant reader (mostly), spencer being awkwardly sweet

𝐚/𝐧: i should be doing my history assigment now instead of writing another freaky long fic but here i am

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 10k

Fuck, you thought the moment you realized you’d woken up in someone’s arms.

Double fuck, you added as it dawned on you that this wasn’t some random guy you met at a club, the kind who’d bought you a drink, whose name you hadn’t even tried to remember, and whose life you could easily disappear from without a second thought. Instead, you were lying in the bed of a coworker—a teammate you saw almost every single day.

Triple fuck.

Maybe even quadruple, because of how much you liked it. That is, lying next to his bare skin. In a position where one of his arms was wrapped around your body, his face buried in your hair, in the curve of your neck. His breathing steady, occasionally tickling you. Pleasant. It was pleasant.

You were up to five fucks already, and you hadn’t even left the bed yet.

There was no doubt in your mind that you were going to do it. By the time Spencer Reid opened his gorgeous, chocolate-brown eyes, you’d already be gone. Long gone, behind the wheel of your car, speeding at the maximum legal limit with the window cracked open, despite the icy gusts of winter air rushing in.

You’d been perfecting this strategy for years. First, you’d lose yourself in strangers’ sheets with moans and gasps, only to slip away in the early morning, filled with a thrill even greater than what you’d felt just a few hours before. Why? A very good question. You wished you had the answer to it.

This situation shouldn’t have been an exception, though theoretically, it already was. After all, you’d never even considered doing this with people you knew so well. People you couldn’t just ghost without consequence. People you—leaning over to check the clock on the bedside table—were supposed to see again in less than an hour!

You rubbed your sleepy face with your hand, silently cursing yourself. If only you’d been drunk the night before. People dodge the consequences of far worse actions than having a sex with a coworker simply by blaming it on alcohol. But no—when all of this started, you’d been completely sober and fully aware. Incredibly turned on, it’s worth mentioning.

Before the memories of the previous night could start ambushing you, you scrambled out of the bed. First, of course, you had to untangle yourself from the mess of limbs—carefully, so as not to wake him. You gently moved his arm aside and adjusted the blanket over his hips. Where this sudden care and tenderness came from was yet another very interesting question.

Tiptoeing around the bedroom, you gathered your clothes. Your panties and bra you shamelessly clutched in one hand, intending to shove them into your jacket pocket later. Before heading for it, though, you paused for a brief moment in front of the bed, in front of the still-sleeping Reid.

The blanket, pushed low, revealed the upper half of his lean body—his prominent collarbones and the smooth, even tone of his delicious skin. His chest rose and fell steadily, his hand resting in the spot where you’d been lying just moments ago. As if you were still there.

What a shame it was only a one-time thing.

Some people, looking at his innocent appearance, had no idea how much he had to offer. Their loss, you thought, leaving the apartment on shaky legs, feeling soreness in most of the muscles in your body. When you finally got inside the car and the wind began to cool your flushed face and cheeks, the guilt faded away. You didn’t feel as good as usual, your heart wasn’t racing, and the adrenaline wasn’t surging through your veins the way you craved. Strange. Did it have something to do with who your one-night lover was? You shook your head, trying not to dwell on it.

You’d had a really great time together that one night, but that was it. You were officially leaving it behind, forgetting it.

Just like you always did.

It wasn’t an exception, you told yourself, as you took a quick shower in your own apartment.

It wasn’t an exception, and the fact that you worked together didn’t change a thing.

It wasn’t an exception, you kept affirming, crossing the threshold of the office with still-damp hair and the buttons of your fitted black shirt unevenly fastened.

“Are we not greeting each other anymore?” someone’s question snapped you back to reality.

Lost in thought, you realized you’d passed your friend Elle’s desk without even nodding at her. She was sitting on the edge of it, arms crossed over her chest, her dark eyes seeming to pierce through your skull, sifting through your memories. She was sharp—sometimes, too sharp. With nothing more than a sly smile, she let you know she knew something was going on.

"Sorry. I'm still half asleep," you said, approaching her for a hug. You let out a chuckle. "Or maybe I'm completely asleep if I missed such a hot chick in my path."

Elle pushed you away by a finger’s length, her eyebrows raised in a challenge.

"You think you're gonna distract me with compliments? Better start talking—who's the guy?"

“What guy?” someone asked, surprisingly not you, but Derek, who stepped into the room with a massive cup of coffee, nearly dropping it as he tried to greet both of you. You loved the laid-back atmosphere of the early mornings at work, when you had a moment to chat about whatever. “Well, good morning, ladies. From the looks on your faces, I’m guessing you had a nice weekend?”

"From that huge cup of coffee, I’m guessing you did too, if you need that much caffeine. Partying on a Sunday night, you should be ashamed," you replied sarcastically, eyeing your coworker.

His eyebrows shot up.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," he whistled.

"She's just trying to change the subject," Elle informed him. "I was just interrogating our little bolter.

You rolled your eyes at hearing that nickname again. They’d started using it a while ago, as soon as they found out how you handled things with guys. There was nothing judgmental about it—they just really liked to tease you.

It took Morgan a moment to piece together what was going on. When he did, laughter burst from his lips.

"Is that why your hair is still wet? You left in such a rush you didn’t even have time to dry it?"

"She was afraid the sound of the hair dryer would wake the guy up," Elle snorted. "And, heaven forbid, they’d actually have to talk to each other."

“Oh, screw you both,” you muttered, aiming to act your age—in this case, by flipping them off. Before you could, Derek caught your hand, stopping you from spinning on your heel and stomping back to your desk.

“You know,” he said, suddenly a touch more serious, as if the question genuinely intrigued him, “I can’t help but wonder why you actually do it. For me, personally, waking up next to a lovely lady who made the night worthwhile is kind of the best part...”

"Are you asking about the psychological aspects behind it?" You raised an eyebrow. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Elle tilt her head slightly, clearly intrigued. "I don’t know. Something from childhood, probably. Everything stems from there, doesn’t it? Or maybe the reason is something else," you lowered your voice to a near conspiratorial whisper, leaning in closer to their faces as if about to reveal some great secret. "I simply enjoy it. As they say, you don’t pry into people’s bedrooms or wallets."

"That rule doesn’t apply to our friendship, sweetheart."

You chuckled at the remark; sometimes, you really did share a lot with each other. In any case, your response had nothing to do with modesty or shame on those topics. You chose to answer evasively because you didn’t feel like describing how addictive that feeling of escape was, how much control it seemed to give you. How your heart would race in those moments, and how all your fucking lives seemed to flash before your eyes then.

It was sick, many people have already told you that. Still, you couldn't stop.

"Good morning, everyone." Suddenly, JJ burst in, clutching a briefcase the size of an encyclopedia under her arm. "Hotch wants to see us all in five minutes, we have a new case. You'll find out everything in a moment, but I’ll say right away that it looks like a little trip is in store. Bring warm jackets."

"Mercy, not another case from Alaska..." Morgan started, rolling his eyes.

"Not this time. By the way, has Reid already arrived?"

Elle glanced around and shrugged.

"I don’t see him. Besides, if he were here, he’d already be telling us everything about the weather conditions in Alaska."

"Strange," Derek muttered under his breath. "I can’t remember the last time he was late."

You fixed your gaze on your shoes, as if there was something fascinating about them.

"It’s not like him," JJ agreed, a little worried. "Maybe I should call him..."

"He’s definitely stuck in traffic," you interjected quickly, forcing yourself to sound casual, though you tensed up involuntarily. The thought of confronting Spencer slightly scared you, though you wouldn't admit it to yourself. "I’m almost 100% sure. Anyway, shouldn’t we be heading out?"

You changed the subject, nodding toward the exit with your chin. And then, by accident, you made eye contact with Elle.

Elle, who knew you better than anyone.

Elle, who always, always knew when you were lying or hiding something. And whose eyes widened when she realized.

Feeling the blood rush to your ears, you subtly shook your head, silently pleading for her not to speak. But she, to your horror, opened her mouth.

"You two, go ahead," she directed at Morgan and JJ. Then she fixed her intense, demanding gaze directly on you. "We’ll join you in a minute. I need to have a word with our girl, privately."

Barely were you alone when she exclaimed:

"Did you sleep with Reid?!"

"Goddammit, Elle, could you say it any louder?" you hissed, glancing toward the door where your colleagues had just disappeared moments ago.

"Why not? So, you had sex with Dr. Spencer Reid...!"

"FOR GOD'S SAKE..."

"...our genius boy and a member of the same team?!"

"I’m fucking sure even Strauss heard that in her office," you sighed. "But yes, I did it, I regret it, and most importantly, this has to stay between us. Not a word to Derek, JJ, or Penelope, understood?"

To your surprise, Elle burst into laughter and raised her hands in a defensive gesture.

"You know I wouldn’t tell anyone without your permission. I was just playing around Anyway..." she sighed. "I find it hard to believe. You two? Honestly, there’s always been something between you…”

"No," you interrupted her sharply. The words left a ringing in your head. "There was nothing between us."

"So, you decided to sleep together just like that, out of boredom?"

"We need to go, Elle. The rest is probably waiting for us."

You moved forward, your friend trailing right behind you, like that little voice in the back of your mind urging you to order pizza at midnight.

"Oh, one more thing. You said you regret it. So, what, our genius didn’t meet your expectations..."

"End of discussion..."

"Last thing, you told me not to mention it to Garcia, Morgan, or JJ. What about Hotch? Can I tell him?"

You couldn’t keep up the seriousness any longer and burst into laughter, joined by Elle.

"Tell me what?" a voice called from behind you.

Fuck multiplied by twelve thousand seventy-nine.

Somehow, your boss appeared in the same hallway, probably heading to the same room where you were going to be briefed on your next case. You noticed how all the amusement disappeared from Elle’s face. You both exchanged a look, like teenagers caught smoking a cigarette by their parents.

You both turned, silently negotiating through eye contact—arguing, really, over who should speak up and save the situation. It fell to you.

"Um... we were wondering... if we should tell you... that we absolutely love your tie. It's so... red and... long..." It was only then that you noticed it was a gray tie. "Not that one. Another one. Absolutely stunning. And I’m actually looking for a birthday gift for a friend. He’s... a huge fan of... ties."

You tried not to look at Elle, fearing she might burst into laughter. She already seemed like she was suffocating inside. Improvisation was never your strong suit; you always had to say too much.

"So, I hope you don’t mind me asking where you bought it. That’s exactly the kind of tie I’m looking for. Red..." You bit your tongue before you could say long again. "Good quality. One that you’d just want to untie..."

Hotch’s completely stoic expression didn’t help.

"Oh." Suddenly, you realized you hadn’t even greeted him. "Good morning, boss. Are you having a good day?"

"Average," he replied, completely ignoring your whole tie spiel.

Silence fell. Elle stared at the floor, and the corners of her mouth twitched dangerously.

"Let’s get to work," Hotch suggested, clearing his throat. He extended his hand, gesturing for you to go ahead. As soon as you turned, you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment. "I got it from Hailey," he spoke to you in a quieter tone, opening the door to the room where the rest of the team was already gathered. "But if you really care, I can ask her where she bought it."

Sometimes you had a hard time figuring out if the guy was serious or just messing with you.

"I’d be greatly appreciative," you managed to say, quickly passing him and taking a seat at the long table.

You heard Elle whispering to Morgan something that started with "You won’t believe this…” and contained a combination of the words red, long, and untie.

Actually, saying that all the team members were inside wasn’t entirely true. One of them was missing.

"Reid’s late?" Penelope wondered, just as your gaze fell on his empty seat.

"Let’s start without him," Hotch decided. "This can’t wait. JJ?"

She handed out the case files to everyone and moved to the screen, where the most important details and photos related to the case were being displayed. Before he could even say a word, a late Spencer burst into the room.

"Sorry, really, sorry..." he said frantically. "I know this never happens, but I overslept..."

He stopped mid-sentence as soon as his eyes met yours. It felt like he might as well have shouted, Hey, you know we had sex last night? and it would have been less suggestive. Or maybe it was just your inner paranoid voice talking.

"You could’ve informed us you’d be late," Hotch said.

Reid was still desperately trying to catch your eye, even though you were determinedly focusing on everything except him. It wasn’t until a moment later that he realized Hotch had said something to him, and he sighed in surprise, snapping back to reality.

"Oh... yeah, I should have. Definitely. Actually... I actually sent a message to y/n."

At that moment, all eyes turned to you. You furrowed your brow. There was no way he had written or called you — you would have heard it… which, of course, didn’t mean you would have replied. Your hand went to your pocket…

"I forgot my phone."

Only then did you look at Reid, your expression should have given him the message you intended. I left my phone at your place...

“I’ll look for it for you,” he offered. He immediately panicked, probably realizing that you'd rather keep your night together a secret. “I mean, I’ll help you look for it. If you want…”

“Reid, please, sit down,” Hotch stopped him from completely humiliating both of you. At that point, you had a burning desire to bang your head on the table. “And close the door.”

“Right…”

He followed the order and took a seat next to JJ, across from you, sending a small, uncertain smile. You didn’t react, your face remained unreadable, even irritated by how much he was giving away about what had happened between you.

Still, seeing his slightly wrinkled shirt, the same one he wore the previous evening when he opened the door for you, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. Those small imperfections in the fabric were, of course, from how hastily you had removed it and tossed it to the floor, where it had stayed all night…

The first time you had met outside of work, as two ordinary friends and not colleagues, was a few weeks ago. You had to drop by his place in the evening to pick up some documents you needed for the next day at work.

“Thank god,” you sighed as the door opened. “Elle isn’t picking up at all. I have no idea what she’s doing or where she is, and I seriously need this. If I don’t bring it, I can pretty much say goodbye to BAU.”

Only then did you lift your gaze to the man standing in front of you, too absorbed in your panic over the missing papers to actually take a good look at him. One hand rested on the doorframe, dressed in a sweater vest with the collar of a shirt peeking out beneath it.

“I’m glad I could help,” he replied. Thin-framed glasses rested on his nose, which he only wore occasionally for work. It was a shame because they suited him well. “But I’m sure Hotch wouldn’t throw you out just for being one day late.”

“I’ve been putting it off for three weeks.”

“That definitely changes things. Are you coming in? I need to... check if I have everything. “I’m really sorry, but you actually called just a moment ago and I didn’t manage to…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you waved a hand reassuringly. “I should’ve reached out earlier and not bothered you at this hour. But since you’re inviting me, I’m coming in. I’ve never been to your place before.”

“You’re not bothering me at all,” he assured you as you both walked further into the apartment. The lighting was dim, creating a cozy and relaxed atmosphere.

You stopped in the living room when a familiar sound reached your ears—a melody you knew all too well. Without a second thought, you followed it to its source.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you huffed in surprise, coming to a halt in front of the glowing TV screen, its bright light cutting through the dim surroundings.

“What?” Spencer finally noticed you had wandered off and joined you a minute later. “Oh, sorry. I was watching it earlier and forgot to turn it off…”

“No!” You stopped him before he could reach for the remote. “Don’t you dare. History’s Mysteries is my favorite show.”

Spencer looked at you as though he expected you to burst into laughter any second and admit you were joking. But no, you genuinely, wholeheartedly loved that program. Especially the episodes about extraterrestrial life—deep down, you’d always been a bit of a nerd.

You crossed your arms over your chest, pretending to be annoyed.

“What?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow. “You think just because I’m hot, I can’t have any intellectual interests?”

He widened his eyes, shaking his head.

"Don't put those words in my mouth. I’d never say—or even think—something like that."

"That I’m hot?"

"No! What? I mean… I wouldn’t assume you couldn’t have intellectual interests just because you’re…"

"Hot," you finished for him, letting out a laugh. "Relax, Reid, I’m just messing with you. By the way, you have a really nice apartment. Honestly, I kind of expected, I don’t know, a lab or something."

"Well, so far, you’ve only seen the living room," he replied.

"And I'd love to see the rest of it," you announced, rocking slightly on your heels. "But I haven't seen this episode yet, and I'm very curious about what it's about."

You noticed him hesitate, clearly unsure how to respond.

"Unless, of course, you don’t want me to stay. Maybe you're expecting someone. A girl or a guy?"

"No, no, I’m not expecting anyone," he replied quickly, swallowing nervously. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—barely noticeable, but it was there. "You’re absolutely not bothering me. Actually, it’ll be... it’ll be nice to have you stay. But, um... the documents. I should—I'll go get those ready for you. Would you like something to drink?"

"...Four bodies were retrieved from a hole in the ice of a completely frozen lake. All the victims were young girls, aged thirteen to nineteen and each of them was involved in prostitution."

You were brought back to reality by JJ's words. You felt someone's gaze on you, surprisingly not from the direction you had expected. It was Gideon, and you were sure he had noticed the strange tension between you and Spencer. That was likely the reason behind his scrutiny. You had always thought he was a solid guy, but at times, he scared you. He looked at people as if he could see their original sin, not just theirs, but also that of five generations back in their family.

You shuddered, but for another reason. The subject... frozen lake, bodies pulled out... even though so many years had passed, and you could barely remember the event, the chill still crept down your spine, and your heart raced like you were running away.

"Wait a minute," Derek said, furrowing his brow thoughtfully. "How thick could the ice be on that lake?"

"Given the current almost extreme temperatures, probably around 50 inches. That's thick enough for even cars to move safely on it," Reid explained without hesitation.

You sighed, trying to hide a fleeting smile. You just... sounded like a fetishist, but you couldn't deny that it was a little exciting when he did that. He delivered long, flawless explanations, all while looking genuinely fascinated by the topic. It didn't matter what you were talking about.

Elle raised an eyebrow. You decided to ignore her.

“Doesn’t it make you wonder how he managed to cut a hole in the lake, in such thick ice, without anyone noticing?” Morgan continued.

“Actually, he didn’t have to do it personally,” Reid replied again. He took off his glasses and thoughtfully turned them in his hands. “Under different weather conditions, we might consider that, but these were most likely holes made for other purposes. Fishing, mostly, but also to test if the ice can support vehicles, for example. The unsub could have simply shown up, discarded the body, and that’s it.”

You all started the discussion on the topic without your input. You should have stayed focused, but you couldn't help but keep glancing back at his long fingers, holding the glasses...his touch so delicate and skilled…

The door opened once again, just like every Sunday, when the two of you caught up on the weekly episode of the show. After you stayed over at his place once to watch it together, it simply became a tradition. An unspoken one.

With each meeting, you talked less and less about work. It was still kept in a purely friendly atmosphere—otherwise, you wouldn't have shown up. You weren't looking for a committed relationship, but lately, the usual physicality wasn't enough, and you needed a new conversation partner on a deeper level. The range of your topics was vast, from casual chatter to deep analyses of the content you watched (you could talk for hours about conspiracy theories), or serious yet comforting conversations about life and the world.

"Where's my pillow?" you asked, pointing to the spot on the left side of the couch where you always sat.

"I spilled coffee on it, by accident. It's in the laundry. Sorry."

"Did you really just apologize for taking your pillow from your own apartment?"

"Sorry, It’s just my thing”

You both burst out laughing, sitting side by side on the couch.

"I miss something to rest my head on," you complained after just a minute. "I’ve got neck pain from sleeping on the jet."

"So, you should definitely sleep on a flat surface," he teased. "See, I took the pillow out of concern for you."

"Ladies and gentlemen, Spencer Reid before you. The man who will always find a scientific reason to make your life harder. Maybe I should just sleep on a bed of nails instead of a mattress, huh?"

“I just suggested a slightly flatter surface! Where did the nails come from?”

“That’s the same to me. I need softness.”

Spencer shook his head.

“I can bring you a pillow from my bedroom.”

“The episode is starting.”

“I’ll be back in a second…”

“Oh, and then you’ll complain you can’t talk about the plot because you missed the first minute, and so much probably happened,” you stopped him from getting up, grabbing his wrist. “Sit. I’ll survive the neck pain. Or… or I’ll just lie down here.”

Saying this, you simply rested your head on his lap, settling comfortably on your side.

“What did the autopsy reveal?” Elle asked. “Did the victims die from drowning, or were their bodies just dumped in the water with a different cause of death?”

You should have focused on the case at hand, but you couldn’t shake the discomfort this topic caused you. No wonder your thoughts kept straying to more pleasant places as you tried to distance yourself from it. Still, you read through the case files, knowing you had to stay focused to solve this. Lives depended on it.

“They were all alive when they were thrown into the water,” JJ said with tightly pressed lips. “And each of them suffered a heavy blow to the head.”

“That’s how he abducts them,” Derek summarized. “Knocks them unconscious with a strong hit. Maybe he pretends to be a client, and once they leave with him, he strikes.”

“The question is, why specifically the lake’s ice hole?” you mused, tapping your nails on the table in an anxious gesture. “Is it purely practical? Did he think it was the easiest place to dispose of the bodies?”

You couldn’t take your eyes off the photos of the drowning victims—it felt like self-inflicted torture. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Reid staring at you differently than before. Once, you’d told him a story about something that happened to you as a child, more like a casual anecdote than a heartfelt confession. Even so, you thought you saw some worry etched on his face.

For the first time since he walked through the door, you met his eyes directly, responding to his desperate attempts to catch your gaze. Surprised that you finally looked at him, he froze, his slightly parted lips emitting a short sound as if he wanted to say something but forgot what it was at the last second.

"No... I don't think so," he finally said, drawing out the syllables absentmindedly. The slight furrow in his brow suggested he was deep in thought. "Bathing in water symbolizes cleansing from sin in many religions, both physically and spiritually. For example, in Christianity, baptism washes away original sin. Prostitutes are often the targets of serial killers who believe they’re purging society in some way. Since we’ve ruled out a sexual motive, maybe this is where we should focus our attention."

"That’s a good lead," Hotch agreed, as the rest of the team considered the analysis in silence. "In that case, we’re likely dealing with a religious fanatic. Such perpetrators often believe they’re acting in the name of God or some higher good. Worse still, they see their actions as morally justified, which means they feel no remorse."

"And that, in turn, means they won’t stop killing until they’re caught," Gideon concluded.

"Then there will soon be another victim. We need to move now," your boss decided, quickly straightening his papers against the table before tucking them into his briefcase. "See you on the jet in fifteen minutes."

Throughout the meeting, you'd laid out the victims' photos in front of you, studying them closely. Preoccupied with gathering them up, you could hear everyone heading toward the door, convinced you'd been left alone in the room.

But when you looked up, you found yourself face-to-face with none other than Reid. Your breath hitched for a moment. You knew this confrontation was inevitable, but you'd worked so hard to push the thought of it away…

"Hey," he greeted with a small smile on his lips. He seemed almost excited about the conversation. "I just wanted…to ask how you're doing."

You shrugged, forcing indifference.

"Fine, I guess."

You finished sliding the photos back into the case file, closed it, and pressed it to your chest.

"We should get going. Hotch gave us fifteen minutes, but the sooner we leave, the better..."

"You don't even want to talk to me?" he asked unexpectedly, shaking his head slightly in genuine disbelief. He swallowed hard and added, "About last night?"

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment. You hated this—hated it with every fiber of your being. That awful moment when you had to tell someone you'd spent the night with that it didn’t mean anything to you, that you didn’t want to keep seeing them, let alone get involved. And it was so much worse this time. This wasn’t some random guy. This was Spencer—your friend, someone you genuinely cared about, whose friendship you couldn’t afford to lose, especially since you worked together.

Your body was conditioned to run, to escape. Waking up in someone else’s bed always signaled an immediate sprint to the finish line. But this time, it felt like you’d tripped over an untied shoelace barely a meter in.

"There’s nothing to talk about," you replied. The strange tension of being in the same room with him again, just the two of you in this small space—so much like last night—settled over you. "Actually, wait. There is. I think I left my phone at your place, though it might’ve fallen somewhere in the car. Could you look for it when we get back?"

He didn’t respond. You weren’t sure why, but you kept your gaze fixed anywhere but on him—his shirt, the space behind him, anything to avoid his eyes. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe you should look directly at him, let your words carry the weight they were supposed to.

Spencer suddenly let out a short, sharp laugh, filled with shock and maybe even… sarcasm?

"Did it really mean so little to you that you can't even look at me?"

You gave in and lifted your gaze. His head tilted slightly to the side, his brow furrowed. He looked somehow hurt even though hurt seemed too strong a word.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean how you disappeared this morning. I thought maybe you were in a rush or didn’t want to wake me, but when I got there, you barely even looked at me. Sorry—actually, you looked at me only once”

"What did you expect, that I’d throw myself at you and kiss you?"

"No, I expected that we’d talk about it like normal people."

"But there’s nothing to talk about. It happened, and that’s it. I don’t see any reason we should have to debate about it..."

Spencer wasn’t angry, like others might have been. He was simply stunned.

"I don’t understand this," he finally confessed, adjusting his glasses on his nose. It was as if they suddenly became a bother, so he adjusted them again, then, after a moment of hesitation, took them off. "Do you regret what happened?"

“No,” you answered quickly, it was the first honest thought that came to your mind. You pinched the bridge of your nose, unable to find the right words. “Well… I don’t regret it in the way you might think. It’s just… I’m not sure what you expect from me now. We spent one night together, it was amazing, but I don’t have anything more to offer you.”

“I don’t want you to offer me anything,” he said, irritation beginning to creep into his voice, though it didn’t seem to be directed at you. “The only thing I want is… to understand where we stand now. Look, we’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, I thought you liked me…”

“Because I do like you,” you interrupted him mid-sentence. "Let me be honest with you, Reid. I don’t do relationships. And just so you know, I don’t usually sleep with my friends either, but it happened, and I can’t undo it, nor would I want to. Because I enjoyed it, I like you, and I have a great time when I’m with you. And up until now, I’ve really enjoyed how things have been between us. I don’t want anything to change."

You summed up what had been weighing on your heart, hoping with all sincerity that he’d understand. Spencer leaned his hands on the back of an empty chair, turning his body slightly toward you.

"So," he said, letting out something between a chuckle and a pained sigh. "Maybe you shouldn’t have gone to bed with me."

"Listen, sex doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a physical act, it doesn’t affect our friendship in any way."

"Do you really believe that?"

“Yes, I do,” you insisted stubbornly, refusing to let yourself even blink. Spencer turned his face toward you, looking for signs of a lie or uncertainty in your expression.

He wouldn’t have been able to find any, even if he tried with all his might. Because you were a brilliant actress. And it wasn’t that you hid your feelings so well. It was more that everything about you was so contradictory that it created a whole range of possible interpretations. And Spencer, with his deeply rooted need to hurt himself and test his own worth, chose to settle on the one that would guarantee him that.

“Well, good for you,” he finally replied, before leaving the room completely, not even turning back over his shoulder.

For a moment, you stood in silence, unable to identify what you were actually feeling. In truth, your earlier words had been honest. You cared about your friendship, the connection, the conversations, and the time spent together. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny that he simply attracted you. Just yesterday, you had convinced yourself it was probably just curiosity. Sometimes people wonder what it would be like to try something with a friend, they do it, and then all those similar thoughts fade away.

But was it the same for you two?

Your head and shoulders had been resting on his lap for a while, your cheek comfortably pressed against his thigh, and the glow of the TV occasionally lit up your focused face when something brighter appeared on the screen.

Spender seemed tense about the position for just a minute, then, for the next five, he was simply surprised. Although you focused your attention on the program, you could feel his gaze falling on your figure from time to time, stopping on it for a moment. After ten minutes, you were both lying comfortably, with mutual ease, and after an unknown amount of time, one of his hands was resting on your side.

Every now and then, you spoke to each other, exchanging short, often sarcastic comments about the episode. During one of these interactions, something caught your attention.

"Where are your glasses?" you asked. You turned onto your back, resting the back of your head on his lap instead of your temple and cheek.

You could look up at him from that amusing, lower perspective, from which everyone looks particularly unflattering. You smiled at his expression when he tilted his head to look at you.

"Oh, I have them here," he replied, lifting the glasses he must have set on the couch.

"But why aren’t you wearing them?" You could swear that when you started watching, they were on his nose. You had noticed because you really liked how he looked in them.

He shrugged.

"You’re straining your eyes. Put them on," you asked.

Spencer moved his hand as if he wanted to reach for them, but at the last moment, he hesitated.

"I... I don’t exactly like how I look in them," he finally confessed.

After those words, you stared at the ceiling for a moment, then pushed yourself up on your elbow, almost aggressively. His eyebrows shot up at that.

"You must be joking."

"What?"

"I said, you must be joking. You look great in them. They really suit you," you assured him, sitting up. "You know, when I was a teenager, I always wanted to wear glasses. I even envied the girls with poor eyesight."

"You know, I’m fully aware you’re saying this just to get me to wear them?"

"True, you got me. Did it work?"

"Not really."

You bit your lower lip, thoughtfully considering a certain idea.

"Okay, give them to me for a moment," you asked, extending your hand. "I’ll tell you something that will convince you to wear them. From now on, you’ll even sleep in them. Well, maybe especially sleep in them."

He tilted his head, trying for a moment to read your intentions from your face, but he couldn’t. He sighed and handed you the glasses.

"Don’t..."

"Don’t grab them by the lenses, I know that," you finished, rolling your eyes. "I’m not some animal."

With his glasses in hand, you changed your position on the couch, kneeling so that you were more or less facing each other.

"I’m waiting for your arguments," he said, his voice sly, to which you raised an eyebrow.

"Well, this will be an argument combined with a little presentation," you clarified. "Have you ever heard of the glasses theory?"

"Is that an actual concept in human psychology, or something you just made up? If it’s the latter, I’m afraid I haven’t”

Listen, it’s very simple, but you’d better focus on me," you demanded, ignoring his previous remark.

"I’m focused."

Indeed, he was. His gaze was fixed on you with such intensity and engagement, as if you were about to deliver a speech that could change the fate of the universe. Or maybe it just seemed that way because you were so close to each other.

"Forgive me for the unacademic language, Doctor, but I don’t like to complicate things too much. This theory says that with glasses, you can only look one of two ways: smart or hot."

Spencer had already chuckled, ready to jump in with a sarcastic comment, but you pressed your finger to his lips, moving even closer.

"Don’t interrupt me for now, I’m not done yet. This theory also says that your look in glasses will always be the opposite of your usual, everyday look. So, if without them you look like the typical intellectual who knows the meaning of every word in the dictionary, then in them…" You paused, tilting your head to the side. Up until now, your finger had been resting on his lips, which it had landed on by chance, but you couldn’t stop yourself from trailing it along his chin and jawline. He didn’t take his eyes off you, which only made it harder to stop. "In them, you look really, really attractive. Like, you know, sexually attractive”

You felt his chest rise. You felt it because one of your hands was resting on it as you sat on his lap, though you had no idea how you had ended up there. Spencer had been entirely focused on your face until now-on your speaking lips, not on how your bodies were positioned in relation to each other. He exhaled, loudly, far too loudly for comfort, the breath he'd been holding in. The sound escaped as you settled your full weight on his lap instead of just hovering above it.

“Do you really mean that?”

Yes, you wanted to respond briefly, right into his ear.

“That’s the theory. And I… I agree with it. I even have another example. You won’t deny that I’m hot, right? It’s just something people think when they see me. A statement of fact. So… when I put on glasses…” Saying this, you slid his glasses onto your own nose. Your entire field of vision blurred slightly, making it hard to see his reaction. You could only feel how his body responded..“Well? How do I look?”

He didn’t answer. His breathing grew deeper, his pulse quicker. You knew this because your hand, which had been exploring every corner of his face, had already made its way to his neck and decided to stay there for a while.

“Spencer,” you prompted, “I asked how I look.”

He lowered his head, the top of it brushing against your sternum, lingering there for a moment. When he straightened again, his eyes were in constant flux, like those of someone torn by too many desires at once.

“Smart,” he replied, his voice barely audible, the word catching in his throat. “Now you look really smart.”

You shifted higher on his lap, drawn to him by the pull of his voice.

“Smart,” you repeated with a laugh, your tone edging toward a whisper, slipping between the two of you and filling the small space like liquid poured into a vessel. “That confirms the theo—…”

You broke off when his lips finally surged toward yours, impatient and pushed to the very edge of restraint. His jaw pressed against yours, forcing your entire body to tilt back. You swayed on his lap, both of his hands falling tou your hips, his fingertips pressing firlmy into your skin to hold your body at the same place, right next to him, close, closer.

The kiss, born of desperation, quickly transformed into the release of a long-hidden hunger shared by you both. It was equal on every level, matched in intensity and force.

In the midst of it all, you lost your breath, repeatedly pulling your lips away from his to gasp for air, only to reconnect moments later. One of those brief pauses drew a wretched, urging whimper from him.

It was around then that you felt the pressure, growing stronger against your core.

An involuntary smile spread across your lips, breaking the kiss, during which you briefly took control, tilting his neck back for better access. Pulling away by barely an inch, you managed to notice that his barely open eyelids were still fixed on your lips, glistening with saliva and flushed with desire.

“Spencer? What is it? “

After asking that question you pressed yourself to his hips, pointing to the obvious hardness. His eyes widened, as if all the previous actions had taken place far beyond his body, to which he had only just returned. He inhaled sharply, his fingers gripping your body firmly and decisively as if trying to slide you off his lap. Something in the intensity of his touch and his attempt to take control only made you cling to him more.

“Didn’t expect you to be that hard after a kiss, but maybe it’s my fault” You muttered a joke under your breath, your lips briefly marking the space along his jawline, chin, and finally his lips. In the meantime, while one of your hands remained firmly on his neck, the other decisively reached its target. Then, griped it through the fabric of his pants. His lips parted, b loout no sound came out; it seemed to have been swallowed by his surprise. “Do you want me to take care of it?”

Your hand remained still, waiting for an answer. At first, he was silent, focused on his own breathing, not looking at your face, which you found quite unsettling.

"Spencer, I want you to answer me."

When he hesitated again, you gently brushed your lips against the lobe of his ear. But before you could repeat your request, he unexpectedly pulled both of you to the side, positioning you beneath him.

You gasped, surprised by the shift in dynamics.

“I want this” he whimpered into your ear, covering it with his mouth along with the space around it. “I really, really want this, please…”

But was it the same for you two?

You repeated the question in your mind and recalled how, arched like a bow, you placed the glasses on his face, wanting to see him wear them as he made you come.

You stood there in the empty room, replaying that moment in your head, well aware that you should join the rest of the team, but not so sure about the answer

"Please don’t tell me that those fifteen minutes when you were alone..."

"Disgusting, Elle, you’re just disgusting."

Your friend, sitting across from you on the jet, smiled as if you’d just given her a compliment. The rest of the team either engaged in conversation with each other or reviewed the case files once more, looking for new clues. Reid belonged to the latter group, though his absent expression didn’t suggest he was deep in thought about the case. But you made an effort not to look at him, feeling a bit guilty for how things had unfolded.

"What exactly did you tell him?"

"That I don’t date and I’m not looking for anything serious."

"You just told him that?"

"What was I supposed to do, draw him a picture?"

"It’s not about that, it’s just..." Elle hesitated, unsure of what she wanted to say. She didn’t seem as cheerful as before. "I guess you didn’t say it that directly, right? Don’t get me wrong, but it’s kind of... cruel."

Her gaze briefly shifted toward the subject of your conversation, looking concerned.

"Would you have come to that conclusion if it were any other guy you didn’t know?"

She sighed.

"Probably not, and that’s why I think I’m having some sort of moral crisis."

You fell into a bit of an unpleasant mood for the rest of the flight. Unsure of what else to do, you decided to think a bit about the case and the murders. You even came to a conclusion and were about to stand up to discuss it when it hit you that you wanted your conversation partner to be...Reid. You sighed and stopped halfway, not knowing if he was ready to talk to you again.

Soon enough, you arrived in the small town where the murders had taken place. Naturally, you headed straight to the site where the bodies were discovered. Bundled up in thick down jackets, the crunch of deep snow underfoot accompanied your every step. You busied yourself talking to the local police, deliberately keeping your distance from the lake. The vast expanse of frozen water seemed to glare at you, challenging and mocking, as though daring you to come and play. Every glance at the ice awakened an inexplicable urge to sprint to its center, to feel the chills coursing through your body and surrender to a reckless exhilaration.

Rain drummed against the bridge like a barrage of tiny bullets, sharp and unrelenting, as if determined to pierce straight through you. You stood huddled beneath an umbrella with Reid, but both of you were already soaked to the bone, shivering from the relentless cold.

“Where the hell are they?” you asked through chattering teeth.

As part of your investigation, you and Reid had been sent to a nearby high school to interview the teachers of a missing teenager. The rest of the team had been assigned different tasks, and someone was supposed to pick you up at the agreed-upon spot and time so you could regroup and share your findings. But the wait was dragging on far longer than expected.

“I’d just like to remind you that you laughed at me when I took this umbrella, saying there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky and it definitely wouldn’t rain,” Spencer remarked, switching the umbrella from his red, cold hand to the other one he had been keeping warm in his coat pocket.

You looked at him with envy. Your jacket didn’t even have pockets, and you started wondering why you’d even bought it in the first place.

“This is not the time to point fingers at me,” you retorted. “This is the time to make sure I don’t die of hypothermia. Come closer. And don’t stand so close to the railing.”

“We’re nearly two meters away from it,” he pointed out, but still followed your request and stepped forward. You took the opportunity to shove your hands into his coat pockets for even a momentary bit of warmth. His coat smelled like rain, and your nose accidentally brushed against it. Your hands touched his in one of the pockets.

“Jesus, it’s like touching an ice cube,” he muttered.

“You still have feeling in your hands?”

“Still do, but I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time,” he replied.

“They’ll freeze and have to be amputated. We’ll be the only two handless FBI agents. Hotch will never send us on an assignment together again,” you joked.

He chuckled softly and shifted the umbrella to his other hand once again. For a moment, you both stood in silence—him staring at the river flowing beneath the bridge, and you gazing toward the direction where you hoped your rescue would arrive.

“Can I ask you a question?” he broke the silence, looking down at you.

You were standing so close, your hands buried in his coat pockets, that you had to tilt your head back significantly to meet his gaze.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Are you afraid of water?”

You stared at his face, taken aback by the question. His wet hair was plastered to his forehead, and for some inexplicable reason, you felt a sudden urge to push it back.

“Why do you ask?”

He shrugged.

“It’s just something I noticed today—though, of course, there’s a possibility I’m wrong. But we’ve been standing on this bridge for twenty minutes, and you haven’t looked down once. And you keep telling me to step away from the railing.”

“I’m just looking out for your safety, klutz,” you teased, lowering your gaze. He wasn’t wrong about the water, and it surprised you that he had even picked up on it.

“When I was six, I almost drowned in frigid water,” you admitted, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

Spencer’s brows furrowed with concern.

“At least, that’s what I’ve been told,” you added before he could say anything. “Apparently, my dad took me and my sisters to a lake to go ice skating. He used to go there as a kid with his siblings, and the ice was always thick enough that no one even considered it might break. But that was twenty years earlier. He didn’t account for climate change. The ice cracked right beneath me.”

“God,” he sighed. “You know… maybe it’s for the better that you don’t remember it. At least not exactly.”

“Maybe. Apparently, I spent the next two weeks in the hospital with pneumonia, but I don’t have a single memory of that. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that I shudder at the mere sound of water.”

“Your body must remember what your mind suppressed. But wait, didn’t you have to pass a swimming test to get into the FBI?”

“I did. But it was in a pool, where the water was calm and not trying to kill me. Hey, do you see that car? Isn’t that for us?”

After a few hours, you began to appreciate living in a state where winters were mild. Your hands were even colder than they had been that time on the bridge, despite wearing leather gloves. The hood over your head muffled the sounds around you so much that the first time Hotch called your name, you didn’t even hear him. You only approached him when you noticed him waving in your direction.

Something in his expression made you quicken your pace.

“We have the unsub’s identity,” he said before you could open your mouth to ask what had happened.

The rest of the team had already gathered. Reid’s cheeks were red from the cold, and he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He wasn’t looking at you, so you avoided looking at him.

“What?” you blurted, surprised. “How?”

“He abducted another victim, but this time he wasn’t as careful, and one of the cameras caught him. Using the footage, Penelope tracked down his information. She also found out that he came from a very poor family, and his sister turned to prostitution at the age of fourteen to support both of them.”

“I don’t understand. Then why does he kill young girls, just like his sister, who sacrificed herself for their survival?” Elle asked, suddenly appearing behind you.

Her question echoed in your mind.

“He thinks that by drowning them in freezing water, he cleanses them of the sin of prostitution—a sin he believes was unjustly forced upon them because of poverty,” you said suddenly, the chill biting into your body far more sharply than before.

“The unsub might even think he’s doing them a favor,” Reid added, animated, picking up your line of thought. “That he’s their savior, granting them a departure free of that sin.”

His eyes met yours, a flicker of admiration glinting in them. But then, as if reminded of everything, he quickly looked away. You felt like sighing. So this is how every single one of your interactions was going to look from now on?

“We need to catch him before he drowns another victim. We don’t have much time; it’s getting dark,” Hotch issued commands quickly. “Gideon, me, JJ, and Elle will head to one lake, Morgan, Y/N, and…”

“I should go with you,” Reid interrupted. “Elle can go with Morgan, and…”

“This is not up for discussion,” Hotch replied in a firm tone, a flicker of surprise crossing not just his face but everyone’s. When it came to time, his decisions were final. You all knew that. "Go," He commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Before you knew it, you were in the speeding car. The tension and sense of mission always left you silent, focused, and most of all, determined.

“He’s here. Do you see him? He’s dragging her toward the hole in the ice!”

Throughout all of it, not once did it cross your mind—the obvious fact that you’d have to set foot on the frozen lake. Before you even had a chance to react or fully realize it, Reid unexpectedly grabbed your sleeve, pulling you toward him. He seemed surprised by his own action, his eyes darting with adrenaline across your face.

“The ice won’t break, do you understand?” he said, not letting go of your arm. “It’s thick enough that cars can drive on it. “It’s safe, trust me. And if you feel like you can’t do it, just stay behind,”

His voice was surprisingly steady, offering a sense of comfort that you hadn’t expected. You listened, almost stunned, not just by the care in his advice, but also by the fact that he was even speaking to you at all.

You didn’t have time to respond or even nod; the car came to a stop, and every second counted. Somewhere deep inside, though, you felt a surge of gratitude for his gesture and words. Because as soon as you set foot on the ice, it was as though your senses vanished. All that mattered was the water—cold, sinister, and waiting for you deep beneath the blue surface.

Morgan and Reid moved ahead of you, with the latter turning his head over his shoulder. You saw it, even as the darkness quickly closed in around you.

“If you feel like you can’t do it, just stay behind,” echoed in your mind.

But you couldn’t just stand there and watch while the victim’s life was hanging by a thread. Focusing entirely on his words and voice, you moved forward, gripping your weapon tightly, yet with a steady hand.

And it was your shot, fired in a moment of desperate resolve, that brought the unsub down, giving Morgan the chance to catch the unconscious victim in his arms and rush her to the shore as quickly as possible.

You stood there, breathless, still holding the gun high, completely unaware of it until someone gently touched your hands, guiding them downward.

“It’s me,” Reid said quietly as you flinched. Only then did it start to sink in that you were standing on the ice. Your imagination began to feed you the feeling of the bone-chilling cold, the water pressing against your body with all its might. After all these years, still so vivid. You grabbed onto his arms tightly, your legs suddenly slipping beneath you. Why hadn’t they slipped before?

“Hey, careful. The ice is thick, remember? It won’t break,” he reassured you.

He held you tightly, offering you support as you both made your way to the shore, taking small, uncertain steps. You could barely breathe, let alone speak. Yet, a question loomed in your mind, one you were desperate to ask: why was he even still with you? Why hadn’t he just left you there, maybe for some internal satisfaction?

Finally, you were on solid ground, no longer gripped by panic. Still, your breath was rapid, every cell in your body shaking in spasms, but not in that teasing, playful way it had when you played the role of the bolter.

“Why did you do it?” you asked, still holding onto him like a lifeline. “I thought you were mad at me.”

Before answering, Reid studied you in silence for a moment.

“I could be furious with you, but I wouldn’t leave you there, alone and scared,” he said.

You opened your mouth, a warmth spreading across your chest, something that felt almost like a comforting embrace. But before you could say anything, the rest of the team reached you, with Elle hanging onto your shoulder, her voice full of concern as she asked how you were feeling.

In the darkness and the flood of emotions, his face blurred, along with the faces of the others. You closed your eyes for a moment, surrendering completely.

It was only then that you began to calm down, though it would take many hours before your hands stopped shaking.

You nervously paced around the office, two pairs of eyes watching you with clear amusement.

"Do you think he called me in because of that whole tie incident?" you asked, nervously biting one of your nails. "Shit, it’s definitely about that. It was so inappropriate, he’s probably going to fire me."

"Calm down," Derek said to you, the corner of his mouth constantly rising and falling. "First of all, if Hotch were going to fire you for every dumb thing that comes out of your mouth, you'd be gone after a week. Second of all, it probably has nothing to do with that. Knowing you, it’s probably some overdue paperwork..."

"You’re not helping," you said, raising a warning finger.

Elle’s laugh mixed with her yawn.

"God, I’m exhausted from this day. I’m out of here. Call me later and let me know what this was all about," she kissed your cheek as a farewell.

You briefly hugged her with one arm.

"Keep your fingers crossed," you asked them as they walked away.

Both of them raised their hands, making the gesture.

It was evening, and you had just returned to the office after closing the case. You had hoped to head home and sleep off all the emotions from the day, but then you found out that Hotch had called for you. And you had no idea why.

Before opening the door with his name on it, you crossed yourself in your mind.

"Listen, Hotch, about that tie, it was really just some messing around," you blurted out, before even fully stepping inside.

The man sitting at his desk raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t alone—across from him, in a chair, looking like a student called to the principal’s office for punishment, sat Spencer, looking just as confused as you felt.

"Did you want to see me now? Or did I mix up the time or the days...?"

"I wanted to see both of you," he replied, pointing to one of the two chairs next to Reid.

You exchanged a brief glance with your colleague. Since your last interaction on the frozen lake, neither of you had spoken a word, but the atmosphere wasn’t as tense as before. That didn’t, of course, mean that everything between you was back to normal.

"Listen, I’m just as exhausted as you, but I need to have this conversation with you now so we can resolve it as quickly as possible."

You shook your head in confusion.

"Resolve what?" Reid asked.

"Whatever happened between you two," Hotch started seriously, his gaze moving between your faces. "Any argument, I don’t care what it was about or how serious it is, it cannot affect your work or professional relationship in any way."

You couldn’t help it and let out a laugh. You imagined Elle’s expression on the other end of the phone when you’d tell her the real reason behind this summons…

"Hotch, there was no argument," you assured him, maybe not entirely honestly, but in an attempt to wrap up this somewhat, let's be honest, embarrassing conversation as quickly as possible.

Spencer nodded enthusiastically.

"Absolutely none. Never."

"I'm not blind or, as you’re both well aware, stupid," Hotch continued, his gaze shifting between you both. "I can see what's going on, and I’m telling you now—I don’t want any conflict in my team."

You let out a snort.

"So what are you going to do?" you asked challengingly. "Force us to shake hands and make up? If we do that now, can we finally go home?"

He met your gaze, his expression as stoic as ever, but you were certain—absolutely certain—that deep down, he was amused by it all. To your surprise, he suddenly stood up from his desk.

"No, I'm going to do something more effective," he declared. "I'm leaving you two alone for ten minutes. No one leaves this office. When I come back, everything needs to be settled. Understood?"

"Isn’t this some sort of elementary school method of discipline?" Spencer asked, raising his eyebrows, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw that beneath his amused expression, there was also a hint of concern.

"Exactly how it sounds," you agreed, briefly meeting his gaze before shifting it to your boss with a pleading look. "You're not our father, Hotch. We're adults, stop treating us like children..."

His hand landed on the doorknob without a moment’s hesitation.

"Then stop acting like children and talk to each other," he said, glancing at his watch. "I’ll be back in ten minutes."

You could’ve sworn there was a subtle smile playing on his face as he left.

You watched his figure disappear in disbelief.

And then, you turned to Spencer, who was already staring at you.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds smut #spencer reid criminal minds #bau team #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal mind #dr reid #spencer reid smut #aaron hotchner #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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reneesghostinthelivingroom · 2 days ago

Note

Could you please write first time with Vi or with both Vi and Caitlin, I don't really mind which one it's up to you (thank you in advance if you write any of this 🙏)

Comfortable

|| vi x caitlyn x fem!reader

|| Warnings; smut, reader's first, breast play, pussy eating, fingering, praise kink, orgasm, finger sucking, good girl use, break, bottom/receiving!reader, dom!vi, dom!caitlyn

|| Summary; when the girls get reader to their room, they have some fun.

Requests closed!

Started; November 26th

Finished; November 27th

~~~

It wasn't long before the two girls had you following them to their bedroom. Caitlyn holding your hand as she brought you along, a subtle smug look across her face while Vi couldn't stop smirking. Before you knew it you were up against the door. Caitlyn's lips against your neck, Vi's body against yours. They knew this was your first. So they planned ahead with you to go slow, making sure you had a safe word and that this was what you really wanted. If at any point you decided to stop, they wouldn't hesitate to let you. This was all happening on your grounds.

Caitlyn placed gentle kisses to your neck. Sucking until a mark was left while Vi brought your lips onto her own. You couldn't help but moan from the different sensations. The sound sending vibrations through Vi's lips that made her shudder. She parted the kiss and gave Caitlyn a subtle look. They seemed to almost make some agreement and the next thing you knew, Vi was picking you up. Carrying you to their bed where she set you down. Caitlyn laid next to you. Helping you out of your clothes, the soft look never leaving her eyes. Taking in the sight of your naked appearance.

"You're beautiful," She murmured. Leaning forwards to suck your breasts. The nipple gently rolling between her teeth. You gasped at the feeling. Back instinctively arching into her. Wanting more. It was insane how good she could make you feel. Just from the breasts alone. You'd been so focused on Caitlyn that you didn't realize what Vi was doing. Until you suddenly felt her tongue against your clit. Lapping at the wetness. Savouring the taste while her tongue danced in circles. Bringing waves of overwhelming, endless, pleasure through you. The two of them on you at once... was almost enough to make you cum then and there. And you nearly did. But you managed yo control it, hold it in.

That didn't last long, though. The moment Vi started adding her fingers you were done. The knot that had tightened itself in your stomach came undone. Despite your best efforts at keeping it together. Your pitch got louder, hands gripping the sheets. Lifting Caitlyn a bit when your back arched more. Caitlyn smirked against your skin. Her hand roaming down to your waist, gently pulling you down. Holding you still. "Shh, you're doing so well." Caitlyn praised. Her tone a murmur.

Vi lifted her head, licking the cum from her lips. Her finger pulling out of you and into your mouth. Your eyes widened in surprise, but you relaxed into it. Sucking her finger. The taste of yourself making you moan. Vi smirked and cupped your cheek with her other hand. "Such a good girl. Could you be any cuter?" Vi leaned forward. Taking her finger from your lips and instead capturing them in her own. The kiss bruising. Your lips trying to keep up with hers in a desperate, sloppy attempt.

As the kiss parted, you struggled a bit to catch your breath. Still overwhelmed from your orgasm. Caitlyn noticed before Vi and sat up, placing a hand to your stomach. "Hey, just breathe. Do you need water?" She asked, when you nodded she left the bed. Getting you water while Vi laid beside you. Watching you with concern in her eyes.

"Do you wanna stop here?" Vi asked and you shook your head. You didn't want to stop. It felt absolutely amazing. But you did need a break before they could do anymore to you.

"Just.. a break." You told her, her eyes softened and she held you close. Being the bigger spoon as her fingers trailed soft circles against your stomach.

"Take as long as you need." She whispered.

You definitely did. It was nearly twenty minutes before you were ready to go again. But the girls didn't mind. They wanted you comfortable.

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greenplumbboblover · 2 days ago

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Requirements:

Cmomoney's Pose Box

Why Not Use Virtual Artisan's Pose Box with this mod?

This mod is an update to their original mod! Since it’s no longer available on their website, I decided to fully integrate it into this mod.

What does that mean?

This mod includes VA’s Pose Addon, so you don’t need to download it separately. Just make sure to delete the old version to avoid any glitches or conflicts! 😊

⭐ New Features:

Most things that are mine can be found under "Photo Shooting" > "Lyralei's Pose Addon".

👀Better Look at

Ever posed a sim to look at something next to them, but they do this weird "eye roll-y" and "nudging slightly to the left" type of look at?

Or maybe you simply wanted to make the eyes look somewhere and not the head?

Let's check it out:

Here we have Morgana, looking normally...

Left = Va's Pose addon - Right = Lyralei's Pose Addon.

To get started, first pose your Sim as usual! Once they’re in position, simply click "Look At..." to make it work.

Massive thanks to @thesweetsimmer111 for helping me on this!

Look at with just the eyes:

As mentioned, you can also just move certain parts of the body! In this case, the eyes!

(Left: No Look At, Middle = Looking left, Right = Looking up)

This is done with something called a "Track Mask". When selected, the only parts of the sim will move that fit the chosen trackmask.

For example: Track Mask "EyesOnly" will ONLY animate the eyes!

Blending Poses

Can't find a pose online that fits your needs, but you do have 2 poses that would totally fix that?

Not a problem anymore! With "Pose Blending" you can use a pose "base" and then overlay another pose to create your own dynamic poses!

Here are some examples!

On both cases, we have the "base" pose on the left. Then I have chosen to blend it with the pose in the middle, to get this as an end result! :)

How to:

First, pose your sim as you normally would

Go to "Photo shooting..." > "Lyralei's Pose Addon..." > "Utils..." > "Blend" > Choose whichever option you'd like to use! :)

Pick the Track Mask you'd like to apply. If you only want the upperbody to be affected, click that option.

Click/type in the pose you want to blend it with....

And tada!

Sitting/Laying poses:

Even that's possible! :) Keep in mind, though: The base pose HAS to sit/lay/etc. Otherwise, your sim will elevate!

Categorised Pose List

Frustrated because every time you want to grab a pose from your list, it takes 3455325352 years for the list to load? Well, wait no more!

Completely customizable through XML, you can now sort poses in their own respective categories!

Need a sitting pose? no problem! Just go to Lyralei's Pose Addon > Take pose From... > Common List > Sitting, and there you have all your sitting poses! :)

Can I customise this list myself?

Of course! I wrote a How-To here: Click me!

🕰️ Show History

The Add-on remembers your pose history!

Whether you’re a dedicated “Pose by Name” user or prefer the simplicity of “Show by List”, both options now display your pose history for quick reference.

Note: Each Sim has their own individual history list. This means you’ll only see the pose history for Sim X when clicking on them, and not for Sim Y.

What did I fix for Virtual Artisan's Pose Addon?

I've made sure to keep everything as it used to (and if I made a replacement for it, it's now labeled with "[LEGACY]" at the beginning of the interaction).

But, of course there were some bugs that came with it.

Changelist:

There is now an interaction that uses both look at & reaction simultaneously. (In case you don't want to use my look at interaction).

Fixed an issue where reactions would sometimes or never show on the sim.

Fixed an issue where sims didn't always want to look at the item.

Fixed an issue where certain poses get called twice, making it harder to keep reactions or even look at history data.

Optimised the code here and there.

Most interactions will now continue on posing your sim if you exited out of the interaction, rather than resetting it. (this counts for "Change Expression" and "Look At").

DOWNLOAD:

Simblr.CC

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336 notes · View notes

thedensworld · 1 day ago

Text

Born Superhero | J.Ww

Genre: fluff, parent au!

Summary: Started as clueless father to superhero, watch how Wonwoo grow as a father... And a husband.

The pregnancy wasn’t an accident; it was simply... A little unexpected. Okay, very unexpected. You and Wonwoo had been married for only six months—still in the honeymoon phase, barely used to sharing closet space—when life threw you both a curveball.

Wonwoo was overseas on a business trip when he got the alarming call that you had passed out at work. The reassurances from friends didn’t help; his mind raced with every possibility, from exhaustion to something far worse. Before he knew it, he was on the earliest flight back, heart thudding as if it were trying to make its way home ahead of him.

When he finally walked through the door, ready to scold you for pushing yourself too hard, he was met with news that rendered him speechless: you were pregnant. He’d always imagined having kids... someday. But not when he was still trying to remember which side of the bed was "his."

His lips curled into a smile, the kind meant to comfort you as you nervously searched his face for a reaction. But inside? Oh, inside he was trembling so hard he half-expected an earthquake warning to pop up on the TV. Fatherhood. He was going to be a dad. The idea was thrilling, terrifying, and somehow as surreal as finding socks in the fridge.

"Well," he said, pulling you into his arms and trying not to sound like a man whose life just did a triple somersault, "I guess this explains why you kept craving pickles and ice cream together."

Wonwoo made it his mission to be your unwavering support system, even when a storm brewed behind his calm eyes. He bottled up the anxiety gnawing at him—the nagging questions about whether he’d be a good father, if he could handle the responsibility, or if he would ever stop feeling like a deer caught in the headlights of parenthood. He couldn’t bear the thought of adding his fears to your plate when you were already dealing with morning sickness that had you running to the bathroom at all hours, leg cramps that turned simple walks into wobbly adventures, and sleepless nights that left you both bleary-eyed.

So, he channeled every ounce of that anxious energy into action. He worked harder than ever, managing late nights and early mornings, making sure everything you could possibly need was taken care of—from prenatal vitamins to setting up the nursery with the precision of a man assembling a palace. Wonwoo learned to cook your favorite comfort meals, and when you suddenly decided the smell of his go-to cologne made you queasy, he switched brands without a word of complaint. He’d hold your hand through doctor appointments, his smile steady even as the “dad” word hovered in his mind like a flashing neon sign.

And when the big day came, Wonwoo felt time stop as he watched you, the love of his life, bring a new one into the world. All the fear, the endless late-night overthinking—it all melted away the moment he laid eyes on Jeon Rayi. The boy had his eyes, the same quiet intensity, and as he let out his first tiny wail, Wonwoo realized something: he was already a father, whether he felt ready or not.

As you cradled Rayi, exhausted but beaming, Wonwoo gently took his son into his arms. The weight was different than he expected, lighter but powerful, grounding him in a way he didn’t know he needed.

“Look at him,” you whispered, teary-eyed and smiling. “He’s your little twin.”

Wonwoo’s chest swelled with emotion as he looked down at Rayi, whose eyes were now blinking up at him as if to say, Gotcha, Dad.

One thing Wonwoo couldn’t quite shake from his mind was the moment before he first laid eyes on Rayi—the moment when you, exhausted and trembling, brought him into the world. He'd watched enough viral videos of husbands fainting in the delivery room to think he was prepared for anything. I’ll be fine, he’d told himself. But when it actually happened, when he saw you gripping the sides of the bed, your face etched with pain so raw it made his chest tighten, his whole body turned to stone. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, only stare wide-eyed as you endured each wave of agony.

Seeing you in pain, your body shaking as the delivery was finally declared successful, felt like a blow that rattled every nerve he had. All he wanted was to wrap you in his arms, to kiss away every tear and tell you a thousand times over how much he loved you. But he stood there, stunned and aching, until the first tiny cry of Rayi snapped him back to reality.

When the nurse placed Rayi in your arms, a hush fell over the room, broken only by your relieved sobs and the baby's soft whimpers. Wonwoo’s eyes misted as he took in the sight of you holding their son—this tiny, perfect reflection of him. The joy that filled him was almost overwhelming, a light so bright it nearly erased the memory of everything that had come before.

But later, when the room had quieted and it was just the three of you, Wonwoo sat by your side, gently brushing the hair from your damp forehead. His gaze flicked between you and Rayi, and a pained shadow passed over his eyes.

“Seeing you trembling after giving birth,” he whispered, voice hoarse and unsteady, “I don’t think we need more children. I can’t... I don’t want to see you in pain like that again.”

You looked up at him, exhaustion softening your features as you managed a small, tired smile. “Wonwoo, we’ll be okay. This little one is worth it,” you said, touching Rayi’s tiny fist as it clung to your finger.

He nodded, though the worry didn’t fully leave his expression. Deep inside, he knew you were right. Rayi was worth it. But the memory of your pain would be seared into his heart, a reminder of just how fiercely he loved you, and how deeply it shook him to see you hurt.

Wonwoo's journey as a first-time dad was filled with more surprises than he could have anticipated. In the first few weeks, he was as nervous as he had been the day Rayi was born, startled awake by every whimper and uncertain about every diaper change. He was meticulous to the point of being comical, triple-checking the swaddle and peeking into the crib every half hour to make sure Rayi was still breathing.

But as the months rolled on, something remarkable happened: Wonwoo began to relax into fatherhood. The once-trembling hands that struggled to button up tiny onesies became adept at cradling Rayi while half-asleep. He learned the art of the midnight bottle, perfecting a one-handed technique so he could hold Rayi close while warming up formula with the other. The exhaustion was bone-deep, but the sight of Rayi’s gummy smile each morning made every sleepless night worth it.

The two of you grew together as parents, finding comfort in the shared laughter and the quiet chaos of raising a newborn. Wonwoo discovered a new side of himself—one that sang silly songs at 3 a.m. just to keep Rayi from crying, that narrated mundane chores with animated voices as though he were performing on stage. His once measured, serious tone became playful and warm, especially when Rayi would respond with delighted giggles that made his heart swell.

There were moments of doubt, of course. Nights when Rayi was teething and inconsolable, when nothing seemed to work, and Wonwoo would feel the weight of his inadequacies creeping in. During those times, he’d find you both leaning on each other, whispering words of encouragement, your hands clasped in a silent promise that you were in this together. You’d remind him that parenting was messy, imperfect, and filled with trial and error, but that Rayi didn’t need perfection—he just needed love.

As Rayi grew from a newborn into a babbling infant, Wonwoo learned to celebrate the small milestones: the first time Rayi rolled over, the first tooth that peeked through his gums, and the first unsteady steps that had Wonwoo following close behind with arms outstretched, ready to catch him. Each new achievement was a moment of triumph not just for Rayi, but for Wonwoo too. Every smile, every laugh, every moment they shared felt like a victory, a reassurance that he was doing okay, that they were doing okay.

One evening, as the golden light of sunset streamed through the living room, Rayi toddled over with a wobbling gait, his chubby hands reaching out for his father. Wonwoo scooped him up, lifting him into the air and watching as Rayi squealed with joy. For a moment, all his early worries about fatherhood seemed like a distant memory. He met your eyes across the room, sharing a smile that spoke volumes about how far you’d both come.

“We did pretty well, didn’t we?” he said, more to himself, as Rayi wrapped his tiny arms around his neck in a triumphant hug.

“Yes, we did,” you replied, coming over to place a gentle hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder, leaning in to kiss Rayi’s soft cheek.

In that moment, as Rayi laughed between the two of you, Wonwoo knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, he was ready to face them—not alone, but with you and your little family, growing stronger and more full of love each day.

Wonwoo was out of the city for a schedule when his manager hurried toward him, phone in hand, urgency written all over his face. Wonwoo’s chest tightened. It had to be you calling. That was the compromise you both had made—only call when it was urgent. The same rule applied when he was home alone with Rayi, and you were out. If it could be handled without a call, texting was the way. But this was different. His manager wouldn’t rush over for a casual update.

“Y/N…” his manager muttered, handing him the phone. Wonwoo grabbed it immediately, putting it to his ear, his heart pounding.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, worry evident in his voice. He strained to hear past the slight static on the line, but then it hit him—Rayi’s cries, loud and unrelenting in the background.

“Rayi has a fever,” you said, your voice edged with panic. “He’s been crying nonstop for the past hour. I’m on my way to the hospital.”

Wonwoo’s breath hitched. Rayi was rarely sick. The thought of his son, usually so bright and energetic, being unwell made his stomach twist. “Where are you taking him?” he asked, biting his lip to steady his voice.

“Seoul University Hospital,” you replied, and he could hear the tremble in your voice, paired with Rayi’s cries from the backseat. “I couldn’t think of anywhere else...”

“You’re doing a great job,” Wonwoo interrupted gently, his tone firm and reassuring. “I’ll figure out how to leave early. Please, update me when you get there?”

You hummed in acknowledgment, your breaths uneven. “I will.”

“And drive safely,” he added, his voice softening despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him.

The moment the call ended, Wonwoo sprang into action, explaining the situation to the managers and the members. The moment he mentioned Rayi’s fever, everyone rallied around him with understanding and support, urging him to leave immediately.

His manager didn’t waste a second, getting him into the car for the drive back to Seoul. On the way, Wonwoo stared out the window, fists clenched on his lap, running over every scenario in his head. You had mentioned in a text last night that Rayi was feeling warm, but neither of you had expected it to escalate this quickly.

Wonwoo stepped into the hospital, his pace bordering on a run. He hadn’t had time to change out of his work clothes, though he silently thanked his manager for packing a change of clothes in the car. Right now, none of that mattered. His only focus was reaching you and Rayi.

When he got to the room, his breath hitched. The sight of Rayi, lying pale and fragile in your arms with his tiny arm connected to an IV, shattered him. It was a stark contrast to the lively boy who usually filled the house with laughter. His heart broke into pieces.

“He just fell asleep,” you mouthed softly, careful not to disturb Rayi’s slumber.

Wonwoo nodded and immediately moved to sit beside you. His eyes stayed glued to his son as you gently laid Rayi down on the hospital bed, brushing a stray curl from his forehead before stepping away.

Without a word, Wonwoo stood and pulled you into his arms. His embrace was tight, as though holding you close could somehow erase the weight of the day. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner,” he whispered, his voice thick with guilt.

“Thank you for coming,” you murmured back, leaning into him.

He pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders as his eyes searched yours. He noticed the weariness etched into your features—the sleepless night, the worry, the stress of handling it all alone until he arrived. “How is he now?” he asked gently.

You let out a deep sigh. “The doctor said it’s likely a virus. They’re monitoring him, but his fever has come down.”

Relief flashed across Wonwoo’s face, though the worry in his eyes remained. He nodded, then pulled you into another hug, this one softer, his lips brushing against your hair. “You’re doing such an amazing job, love. Thank you for taking care of him.”

You smiled faintly against his chest, grateful for his words, even though the exhaustion still weighed heavily on you.

“You should rest now,” Wonwoo said, pulling back to look at you again. “I’ll stay with him and take care of everything tonight. You need sleep.”

But you shook your head, stubborn as always. “No, I can’t. I need to be here.”

Wonwoo sighed, but he didn’t push further. He knew better than to argue when you were this determined. Instead, he brought over a chair and sat beside you. That night, the two of you stayed awake together, taking turns checking Rayi’s temperature and watching his small chest rise and fall with each steady breath.

Every so often, Wonwoo would glance at you, catching the way your gaze softened as you looked at Rayi. In those moments, despite the exhaustion and worry, he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude—for you, for Rayi, for the family you’d built together.

By the time the early morning light began creeping through the hospital curtains, you leaned your head against his shoulder, both of you too tired to talk but sharing an unspoken bond of love and determination. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you’d face them together.

The hospital room was quiet except for the soft hum of medical equipment. After two long days of watching over Rayi, exhaustion had overtaken you and Wonwoo. Neither of you had gone home since that night, surviving on restless naps on the small couch by Rayi's bedside. Wonwoo tried to stay alert, but his body betrayed him, slipping into moments of sleep. Every time he woke, guilt would gnaw at him as he saw you still wide awake, your eyes fixed on Rayi, your motherly instinct unwilling to rest.

That morning, as sunlight filtered through the window, Wonwoo stirred and glanced at you. You were slowly getting up from the couch, your movements unsteady. He sat up quickly, alarmed as you swayed slightly, your hand gripping the armrest for support.

“Babe, are you okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. He moved to your side just as you nearly stumbled. Placing a hand on your forehead, his expression darkened. “You’re burning up. I think you have a fever.”

“Oh no,” you muttered under your breath, more annoyed with yourself than anything.

Wonwoo's hands gently cupped your face, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Please rest, babe. You’ve been running on fumes, and Rayi wouldn’t want to see his mom pushing herself too hard.” His voice was soft but firm, and the concern in his eyes made your chest tighten.

You blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears. His words hit too close to home, but you didn’t want to break down. Not now.

Unfortunately, your body didn’t give you much choice. By midday, your fever had worsened, leaving Wonwoo no option but to call his brother to watch over Rayi while he took you to the emergency room.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled weakly as you laid on the hospital bed, waiting for the test result.

“No,” Wonwoo said, shaking his head, his tone gentle but resolute. “I’m sorry. You’re sick because you’ve been taking care of Rayi and pushing yourself beyond your limit. I should’ve been better at taking care of you too.” He reached out, softly patting your head in an attempt to comfort you.

Your head throbbed, and the dizziness didn’t help. You couldn’t help but think about Rayi and how frustrating it must have been for him to endure the same symptoms. “This headache... I think I know why Rayi was so upset,” you murmured faintly, earning a sad chuckle from Wonwoo.

“Still hurts?” he asked, his hand tightening around yours. You nodded weakly, and his expression crumbled. He hated feeling helpless, but right now, all he could do was stay by your side, offering silent support.

When the test results finally came back, the doctor informed you that you were dehydrated and your body was too run-down to fight off the fever. “We’ll need to keep you for observation,” the doctor said.

Wonwoo nodded, his grip on your hand steady. “Do whatever it takes to make her better,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

As the nurses prepared for your moving, he turned to you, brushing hair away from your face. “You’re going to rest now, okay? No arguments,” he whispered with a small, tired smile.

After hours of shuffling between emergency room and paperwork, Wonwoo finally managed to arrange for you and Rayi to share a private room. It was ironic, he thought, as he pushed the wheelchair carrying you to the room—both his loves were now patients, and he was playing the role of a full-time caregiver.

Rayi lay in his hospital bed, still hooked up to the IV, his tiny frame looking so much better than days ago under the blue blanket. You were wheeled to the second bed beside him, visibly exhausted but trying to stay strong.

Wonwoo helped you settle in, adjusting your pillow and tucking the blanket around you like you always did for Rayi. “There. Now I have both of you in my sight,” he said softly, sitting down between your beds with a sigh of relief.

You gave him a weak smile. “Not how I imagined our first family staycation.”

Wonwoo chuckled, though there was a hint of tiredness in his voice. “Yeah, I don’t think this is making it to our family scrapbook.” He reached out, holding your hand in one of his while keeping the other near Rayi’s bedside.

The days that followed were a blur of tending to both of you. Wonwoo quickly fell into a rhythm—feeding Rayi when he woke up crying, gently wiping your face with a cool cloth to keep your fever down, and running back and forth to fetch food or talk to doctors.

At one point, as you watched him juggling everything, you couldn’t help but smile. “You’re really something, Jeon Wonwoo. I didn’t think you had it in you to manage two patients.”

He looked at you, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose as he smiled back. “Turns out I’m pretty good at this dad-and-husband thing. But don’t get any ideas about a repeat performance.”

“Noted,” you said, laughing softly.

Rayi started to recover quickly, his fever subsiding by the second day. You could see him regaining his usual cheerfulness, even managing to giggle when Wonwoo made silly faces. But that didn’t stop Wonwoo from being extra cautious, checking on both of you every few minutes.

One evening, when Rayi was sound asleep, you watched Wonwoo nodding off in the chair between the two of you, his head tilted awkwardly. “Wonwoo,” you whispered, shaking his hand gently.

“Hm?” He jolted awake, rubbing his eyes and looking around.

“Go to the couch and sleep,” you said softly.

He shook his head. “I’m fine here. What if one of you needs me?”

You smiled, your heart swelling with gratitude. “We’re okay, Wonwoo. You’ve done so much already. Please rest.”

Reluctantly, he agreed, dragging himself to the small couch in the corner. As he lay there, his head resting on a folded jacket, he thought about how much this experience had changed him. He wasn’t just a husband or a dad anymore—he was part of a team, a family that needed him, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.

As you drifted off to sleep, with Rayi’s soft breathing filling the room, you glanced at Wonwoo one last time. Despite his exhaustion, there was a peaceful smile on his face, and you knew that in his quiet, unwavering way, he would always take care of both of you.

After six long days at the hospital, the "family staycation" was finally over. Wonwoo drove the three of you home, the car filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by Rayi's babbles from the backseat. The little boy had been released two days earlier, and during that time, Wonwoo had asked his parents to take care of him so you could recover without any distractions. Now, as the car pulled into the driveway, Rayi was buzzing with excitement to be home again—and to be with you.

The moment you stepped inside, Rayi nearly leaped into Wonwoo's arms, squealing with delight. “He really missed us,” Wonwoo said, his voice soft with affection.

“I think he missed the house more,” you teased as Rayi wiggled to be put down. The instant his feet touched the floor, he zoomed off on his walker, embarking on a grand tour of the house.

Wonwoo chuckled as he picked up the bags, watching Rayi disappear into the kitchen. “Guess he’s making sure everything’s still here.”

Meanwhile, you sank into the couch with a relieved sigh. Days of lying in a hospital bed had made you sluggish, and even standing for more than a few minutes felt like an Olympic feat. As much as you wanted to jump back into your routine, your body begged for more rest.

Wonwoo joined you on the couch, plopping down beside you with a contented groan. Together, you watched Rayi race around, his walker creating an amusing squeak with every step as he stopped to admire his favorite show playing on the TV.

“You know what…” Wonwoo said suddenly, his voice thoughtful.

“Hm?” you hummed, turning to him.

“The most cliché thing that would happen now is me falling sick,” he joked, leaning his head back and closing his eyes as though imagining the scenario.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You? No way. You’re strong. You won’t get sick.”

He nodded, pretending to agree, but the twinkle in his eye betrayed his skepticism. “Let’s hope you’re right,” he said with a grin.

But hope wasn’t enough.

A few days later, the doorbell rang, and you were greeted by a pile of fruit baskets and home-cooked meals from Wonwoo’s bandmates. Word had gotten out that Wonwoo had come down with a fever and couldn’t make it to the schedule.

You peeked into the living room where Wonwoo lay sprawled out on the couch, bundled in a blanket with a thermometer sticking out of his mouth. He groaned dramatically when he saw you holding the care packages.

“I told you it was going to happen,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the blanket.

You stifled a laugh as you set the baskets down. “Guess you’re not as strong as I thought.”

“Hey, I fought off a virus and took care of two patients for a week,” he said, sitting up slightly to defend himself. “I deserve some slack.”

“You do,” you agreed, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Now let me take care of you for a change.”

From the corner, Rayi giggled, pointing at his dad bundled up like a burrito. “Appa funny!” he chirped, and you couldn’t help but laugh along.

Despite his fever, Wonwoo smiled. Even in his weakened state, he knew moments like these were what made being a parent and a husband so worth it.

216 notes · View notes

skay-ali · 23 hours ago

Text

The forgotten daughter / a possibility or alternate universe

The idea of a pregnant but unlucky careless reader is honestly intriguing, while I'm very leaning towards her having her life together after leaving her family behind, it's almost unrealistic or unlikely.

As if ___ Wayne ceased to exist and now a new person, where there was a large wallet and card with infinite funds, went to a pocket with few coins, you became a homeless girl, almost a vagabond, it is clear that you ran away from home in a fit of fury and deep pain, burying itself in your heart, even if you don't want to admit it.

Then you spend the next few days on autopilot, working at places part-time, hanging out with friends, going from party to party, consuming alcohol and other drinks until you drop, experimenting with different drugs, moving from relationship to relationship with different guys.

All to forget the pain you felt, a somewhat peculiar medicine, which only relieved you, but did not make your suffering disappear. All that until you noticed strange things on your body, a slight assumption from your friend and a test, led you to shocking news... you were pregnant.

The possibility of it being from a criminal is very high, all the places you frequented would never be entertainment for a hero in his civilian life, something about high morals and that nonsense.

You were very screwed, first because you were broke, you worked in mediocre places with poor pay, you lived in the moment... which meant you didn't have a permanent home.

Giving your baby the best home was your mission, even if it meant it wouldn't be in your hands.

I can imagine other constants here…. The main thing would be that you end up with the baby, a feeling of feeling complete reaches you when your baby is born.

Your life now is a scale that is constantly balanced trying to give a good life to you and your baby.

Maybe you end up working at a superhero-themed restaurant where a lot of men go for the girls' outfits.

It was there where you met the crazy blonde villain, Harley Quinn, who quickly attaches herself to you after meeting you and forming a friendship with you, while the woman becomes a constant in your life.

Little by little she takes you to meet her friends or accomplices, from a psychiatrist, a businessman, a prosecutor, a botanist, they were part of your new circle of acquaintances, they end up liking you and even more so when they know your story as a careless girl, maybe also the part where they see you fighting to give your baby a great life.

It's still hard to figure out for a lot of these villains, but they grew attached to you and developed a deeper, darker feeling.

You end up working at a fancy bar where all your new acquaintances go.

It was there that you saw him again, one of your old and elusive loves, perhaps the possible father of your child, whom you left when you saw how dangerous he was and that he would take you directly to see your family again or maybe to jail.

Anyway, you avoided him like the plague the short time you had, because with the death of his father, he ended up inheriting the big business where you worked.

Although your job was never threatened during your stay at the iceberg lounge, due to the paternal affection that the owner of the business had for you, something strange but that you did not give much thought to.

Now it was in danger... with this man and his sister as the new owners.

Well, that is until your babysitters came to the bar with your baby, with the excuse that he was sick and they didn't know how to deal with a baby.

Everything turned upside down when the man added your baby's age and the last time you were together, something you never did out of fear.

Suddenly you were no longer a single mother, but you ended up forming a strange life with the father of your child, skeptical at first until the man's actions made you change your mind remembering why you were in love with him.

Even though his personality and work weren't the right fit, you couldn't help but fall for him. In addition to the fact that all your friends, “uncles” or “fathers” as they loved to call themselves or take the role, got into the situation and evaluated the man, even if he was the son of one of them, they all approved him in the end even if there were some frictions. when they lived together.

The worst thing is when the man that everyone thought was dead returned, who put aside the things of crime or his work as a big businessman, as he described it to you so as not to scare you, he proposed that they get married to give the little baby a family, Well, he didn't propose, he put a lot of pressure on you to accept it, using the excuse that he wanted his grandson to carry his last name and not the family he left you, even more so before his time to leave the world approached.

You accepted after so much thought, that would give you a family, something that you always longed for, you would be happy, you were being happy now with your baby, with your baby's father, his sister, his father and your boss, your extravagant aunts and uncles.

A big wedding was celebrated on the first day of winter in the city, on a beautiful pier, with everyone you knew.

.......

There was a great meeting, one that set off the alarms of some heroes, but those of a certain city.

A large number of villains gathered, that was not good, they knew it.

Oh when they encountered his evil plans, or rather at a party, it surprised them, even more so when they observed how a villain, son of one of the worst evils in the city, was about to marry, not with a normal person but with someone some knew.

Let's just say the bat family didn't know how to react.

......

A big smile adorned the groom's features, while the ceremony was taking place, he finally got what he planned so much, it took him a long time, plus he suffered a lot, not seeing his beloved for a long time and thinking that he would never see her again. he would find had destroyed him and made him madder.

But now he had done it, he finished his great plan, he had the woman he loved so much, all to himself, and with his last vows their lives would be completely tied.

Much more so with the baby, the fruit of their fleeting relationship, their little son would keep them together no matter what, if the marriage didn't work out.

Extra points for her father, who also appreciated his future wife much more than he did him, he knew very well that his father would make sure that the girl did not leave, as he could lose his daughter.

His sister was also helpful, she took root in your life, a new friend and confidant, capable of manipulating you.

Even though you were an adult, you were actually very naive like a child.

You gave him your trust, innocently, without knowing what kind of threat he was to you, a life full of freedom.

The time they spent together made him see how much he loved you, now that he had you he would do everything possible to never be separated from you.

#x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere platonic #batman villains

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alicewrotethis · 3 days ago

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𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩. 𝟑﹒

ㅤ۫ㅤ ˚ ۪˖𓏲﹒synopsis!! tsukishima comes to a realization ㅤ ˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤ ˚౨ cw!! timeskip k. tsukishima x chubby!fem!reader, angst (i dont write angst much i hope i did good) ﹒ ◠ note!! playlist i listened to while making this ! i still cant reply to comments, ALSO LAST PART i hope you liked the ending, but if u didnt let me know if u want more or just another tsuki series౨ wc!! 2.2k part 2 not proofread

Opening your eyes the sun shone on your eyes, memories of the night before instantly flooding your mind making a blush form on your cheeks.

Leaning up and resting on your elbows you smiled, the memories weren't a dream, and you weren't being delusional. Your eyes scanned the room, remembering how the stars looked while Tsukishima was on top of you. You shook your head, metaphorically swatting the thoughts away.

Facing to the right you noticed the bed was perfectly put together, what time was it?

Searching for your phone, and some clothes, you saw there was a small pile on the nightstand to your right. On top of the pile was your phone, and below it was a pair of volleyball shorts and his hoodie.

Grabbing your phone first the screen lit up, he had charged it for you. A smile appeared while you read the time, it was six. Tsukishima didn't have to leave until seven, you knew that because you leave at the same time.

Tsukishima would never tell you but he is supposed to leave at six thirty, but to talk to you he waits the extra thirty minutes and chooses to sprint to practice.

Throwing on the clothes you made your way to the living room finding Tsukishima sitting on his couch in silence, seemingly lost in a deep thought with a pensive look on his face.

"Hey, Tsuki," You greeted softly, not wanting to frighten him.

He swiftly directed his attention to you, he didn't answer for a moment as he gathered his thoughts and words. The silence brought a nervous look to your expression.

"Listen," He paused, "About last night,"

"Yeah?" You felt your heartbeat quicken.

"It was a mistake," He stood up now, walking over to you with ease.

You felt your heart drop into your stomach. You weren't quite sure how to feel in the moment, or well, you couldn't decide how to feel with so many emotions mixing in your head. You were filled with anger, sadness, and confusion. If barfing was an emotion, you'd feel that as well. Your mind was so clouded with emotions you couldn't form a reply, and if it wasn't what were you even meant to say to him? Just agree with him? Agree that it was a mistake and you'd go back to your normal routine together? It was something you'd never be able to do.

"We shouldn't have done it," He added.

You let out a scoff, staring up at him with your tear-filled eyes, "I cannot believe you, Tsukishima," You felt your tears drip down your cheeks and onto the floor.

"I dont want to lose you," Tsukishima felt tears threaten his eyes as he stared at your form. It was true, he didn't want to lose you, and being more than your friend meant there was a possibility of that happening. He was scared of how things would change.

"Lose me?" You sobbed out, "Youre losing me now,"

You turned on your heel towards the door, but before you could even get a step in Tsukishima wrapped his hand around your wrist.

You turned your head to him expectantly.

Tsukishima wanted so badly to tell you to stay, to tell you he didn't want this, but nothing came out, no matter how hard he tried to verbalize his thoughts he just couldn't, so instead he stared into your eyes with a pleading look, hoping and praying you understood what he meant.

You pulled your wrist away, "Dont contact me anymore, Tsukishima,"

He watched as you turned around, he watched as you slammed the door, and he watched the time pass as he stood planted in the same spot for thirty minutes. He wanted to cry, he wanted to sob, he didn't remember the last time he felt like this, if ever. Tsukishima in no way was an emotional person, well he wasn't until you came into his life. He thought back to his life before you, how every day was the same, how most of his days were filled with boredom or anger.

He missed you and you had only been gone for thirty minutes. But he decided it was simply for the best, you deserved someone who could properly speak their emotions, someone who isn't so passive-aggressive, someone who isn't him.

Your heart ached and yearned, you weren't sure how you could cry so much about someone who you had only just seen thirty minutes ago, someone who was probably fine without you, who was probably going about his day like his words held no meaning to them. You let him see all of you, feel all of you. The ghost of his hands only made you sob harder into your pillow, the way he roamed you as if you were the only person he'd ever laid eyes on. Were any of his touches real, did the words he said hold genuine meaning? So many thoughts ran through your head.

You knew you'd be late to work at this rate so you decided to call off work. You noticed you were still in his clothes, god, it was like he was haunting you.

Tsukishima didn't want to stay in his apartment any longer, everywhere he looked there you were. Memories of you on the floor studying, watching movies on his couch, baking in his kitchen, and now ghosts of you in his bed. He settled on heading to practice to hopefully take his mind off of you.

It was a decision he had really regretted.

You never left his mind, so much so it was affecting the way he played.

"What is the matter with you, Tsuki?" Kogane shouted after Tsukishima didn't even jump to block the ball. The nickname reminds him instantly of you.

"Its just practice," Tsukishima replied in a calm tone while walking to the benches for a sip of water.

"But you totally could've blocked that!" Kogane followed him.

Kogane considered Tsukishima a close friend, but Tsukishima did not, and he thought he always made that clear, but every day Kogane proved him wrong.

Tsukishima just sighed in response, he knew Kogane was right, Kyotani was always easy to read in two-on-twos, but how could he focus when all that he could think of was the sight of you crying? He wasn't sure how hed ever be able to forgive himself, let alone forget you.

"Is it about that girl that brings your lunches?" Kogane asked after taking a big gulp of water and almost choking on it, much to Tsukishimas's misfortune.

"It's none of your business," Tsukishima tried to maintain his usual scowl.

"Oh, it so is! Tell your dear friend about it," Kogane said, waiting expectantly.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because when she was coming around here you actually smiled a few times," Kogane explained, mimicking Tsukishima's angry face.

Koganes words didn't help Tsukishima in the slightest. He missed you even more so now, he missed how happy you'd make him, though he had a weird way of showing it.

"It's too late," Tsukishima said, he couldn't believe he was actually saying this to Kogane.

"It's never too late, Tsuki,"

Tsukishima didn't believe him, Kogane wasn't there, and he didn't see the look you gave him when you told him to not contact you again.

Despite everything, Kogane's words stuck with Tsukishima, and they rang in his head annoyingly, they rang on his way to class, and on the way back to his apartment, they especially rang when he passed the bakery you worked at. So there he stood, in the cold, outside the door. He contemplated walking in, what would he even say? Were you even at work? What if you already moved away?

Before he could change his mind Tsukishima opened the door, the warm air welcoming him in, as well as the smell of freshly baked bread and cakes.

"Welcome!" A girl called from the desk.

As Tsuki walked over to her he examined the walls and the pictures that hung on them, some were of customers, and cakes, but there was one of you standing next to a cake about as tall as you. You looked beautiful with your smile, the smile that used to be towards him. How he missed you.

Once Tsukishima asked if you were here the girl gave him a strange look, "Why? Whats it to you?" She spoke, attitude lacing her voice.

Tsukishima was taken aback by her aggressive tone, "I'm a friend," Though friend wouldn't be the best choice of wording.

"Are you Tsukishima?"

He raised a brow, "Yes?" How would she have already known his name?

"Oh! She talks about you like all the time, she let a cake burn one time to text you back!" She said with a smile.

Tsukishima felt his heart pang at the new information, here you were burning cakes to text him back and he shattered your heart like it was nothing, how could he have allowed himself to do such a thing? Losing you because he couldn't properly communicate his feelings because he was scared of something unknown.

Tsukishima liked to consider himself a smart person, but at this moment, here in this bakery, he felt like a complete and utter fool.

He found himself standing outside your door, hands by his sides. What was he even doing? You made it painfully obvious you wanted nothing to do with him.

"Tsuki?" Your voice called from down the hall, Tsukishima swiftly turned his head to meet your gaze. You were holding a brown grocery bag, your eyes were puffy and your hair was a mess, but he saw past that, to him you still looked as beautiful as you did that night.

Tsukishima didn't know what to say, everything he was previously thinking faded within a flash, his words once again failing him.

You stared at Tsukishima, he looked distraught, the sight of him was almost enough to make tears form in your eyes.

You walked closer to your door as he turned to completely face you, he prepared for you to yell at him, tell him you hate him, anything. He wasn't prepared for you to walk right by him and straight into your apartment.

Tsukishima sighed and entered his own, if he couldn't use words, he'd use something he knew you loved.

Baking.

Heading to his kitchen he took out all the ingredients he'd need to make strawberry shortcake. Looking at the bottle of vanilla you helped him pick out he smiled, remembering the look on your face while you were explaining the differences, the glimmer in your eye.

Tsukishima wasn't the best at baking, which was one of the reasons he liked having you over so much, you'd always bake his favorite dish for him, you were always doing things for him and he didn't even realize what he had.

Placing the last strawberry on the whipped cream he stepped back to get a full view of it. It was... strawberry shortcake for sure from certain angles. He didn't have enough vanilla to make another one since you'd always use his, so this... creation... would have to do.

Carefully walking to your door he knocked, and after a few moments you appeared, teary-eyed.

You rolled your eyes at Tsukishima, you didn't want to, but you couldn't help it. He broke your heart, and even after he did you still thought of him, you should be angry, and furious, you should hate him, and you hate that you don't. You hate that you still want him, you hate that he's still the person you think of most.

"What-"

Tsukishima cut you off by showing you the shortcake.

Your expression turned to confusion as you examined the creation on the plate before you.

"I didn't know that color was possible..." You muttered, trying to hide your amusement.

"I made it for you, I didn't have any more vanilla left so I couldn't make another one."

"Its gonna take more than that for me to forgive you," You flatly stated despite everything in you wanting to forgive him, to pull him into a hug, to hear his laugh.

"I'm sorry," He blurted out, finally finding the words to say to you, "I was scared,"

"Scared of what?"

"Losing you,"

You weren't sure what to say to him, you weren't even sure what to think at that moment. He lost you because he was scared of losing you? None of it made any sense to you.

"I meant what I said," He paused, "I can't stay away from you,"

And for the first time in a while, you managed to crack a smile, and so did Tsukishima.

You took the plate from his hands, "Youre on thin ice, Tsukishima Kei,"

Tsukishima felt as though the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders, he finally had you back, albeit he had a bit more work to do but he was more than ready for that if it meant having you in his life again. You, the one who made mornings tolerable, the one who made him realize there were more emotions than anger and boredom.

"Dont be a stranger, Tsuki," You said with a soft smile, to which he happily reciprocated.

"I dont think there's a world in which I would be,"

Tsukishima hated a lot of things.

He hated mornings, he hated polyester, he hated loud neighbors, overly enthusiastic people, and most of all, making friends with his neighbors.

But when you were around, he learned to tolerate things just a bit more.

mlist. rules. tags.

tag: @ilovemymomscooking

part 1

part 2

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu ৎ .ᐟ #chubby reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima angst #tsukkishima x reader #haikyuu angst #tsukkishima kei

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 hours ago

Note

Hi! :) mayhaps can i request your HC's for viktor x an artist reader. 👉👈 ur angst drabbles have been sustaining my life since season 2

There’s a saying that if an artist loves you or falls in love with you, you can never die.

A saying that Viktor didn’t give much thought until it was very clear that he was your forever muse, your reason to keeping your passion alive through experimenting art styles to maximise the effect you wanted your art to have; almost in the exact same way a scientist would conduct experiments in order to understand how something works and how to properly utilise it.

However each and every one of your art works came out looking like masterpieces that should and probably would be studied by future artists themselves one day, given how beautiful they were.

But also because they all included a man with amber eyes and soft chocolate hair hard at work with his own projects as blue sparks are captured liked shooting stars flying past his beautiful face. He truly was a once in a lifetime experience that you wanted to eternally capture within the pages of your sketchbook.

It literally didn’t matter what he did, whether it was tinkering, experimenting with the hexcore or just simply existing, you wanted to capture as much of Viktor as you possibly can whenever you can.

Viktor, in your eyes, was the kind of man people would kill to create sculptures of and artworks that would be seen in grand museums, within a beautifully intricate frame that only added emphasise to his importance to the artist in question. The artist being you of course.

So needless to say whenever you were with Viktor you made sure to have your sketchbook and pencils in hand as you knew that you’d end up wanting to sketch him for the millionth time that day.

However your favourite sketch of him came when you made him smile, genuinely smile.

The image of his bright and handsome smile was all you could see for hours on end as you found yourself absentmindedly sketching his face, his smile, the wrinkles near his eyes and his wind ruffled hair to perfection.

You then found yourself staring at it as though reliving the moment where you heard his laugh reach your ears like a harmonious melody, swept upon the wind that ruffled his hair and into your ears and your ears only.

To be loved by an artist was to be seen and you saw Viktor in a way that nobody else could, not even himself, and it showed in your work as you made him look like an angel disguised as a human given how frequently you used the colour gold whenever you drew him. From his eyes, to his clothes, everything with Viktor had hints of gold to it.

So much so that you had to get more colouring pencils of the exact same shade of gold so frequently that the manger of the art shop knew your name and the muse of your latest works at this point.

‘Drawing Viktor again I see?’ They’d teasingly ask as you’d shrug your shoulders.

‘Guilty as charged.’ You would reply before taking your things and leaving.

Viktor didn’t pry into your sketchbook, it was your belonging and he didn’t feel it was necessary for him to pry into it, but his curiosity didn’t help him one day as he found himself drawn to the sketchbook that you seemed to had left in his lab.

The first few pages were merely parts of the academy that you frequently visited, from the gardens, to the library, to even the lab he was stood in. Each one was increasingly more impressive than the last with how lifelike you made each one as though he could fall into the scene you had created; a true testament to your talent, creativity and insane attention to detail.

However the further the sketchbook went, he could easily see a decline in inspiration in your art. only for it to pick back up again when you had started drawing him doing the most mundane of things -at least in his mind he thought so- as simple sketches to portraits solely done by oil pastels or only colouring pencils. All just to emphasise his features and the concentrated furrows of his brows, a large variation of colours you’ve used so effortlessly to make up his face in a way that he could never imagine.

And yet Viktor found that there was more artworks of yours regarding him, artworks that seemingly continued endlessly and were just as hyper detailed and colourful as the more of himself that he saw, each one touching his heart in a way that made him realise that this was how you genuinely saw him; an angel in human skin as the way you depicted him was either simply human or an ethereal being coated in various shades of gold.

Through the eyes of an artist, through the eyes of you, Viktor knew that you only conveyed what you believed to be true and the fact that you saw him in such a way was enough to have him struggling to breath, but in the best way possible.

You way you saw him transcended beyond the person he saw each and every day in the mirror. You saw him as a man of infinite beauty, wisdom and strength in a multitude of ways while never shying away when it came to his leg nor disease.

If anything you made those parts of him stand out the most in a way that told him that you found these parts of him a strength and perfection in your eyes. Telling him that you didn’t wish him to be anything other then himself, for he was perfect and so much much that only your art could help describe.

Viktor; a man on borrowed time became a man immortalised within the pages of his artist lover.

He even seen the sketches of him fast asleep against his workbench you’ve done and even then you took your time making it look like he was staring into a mirror of himself.

You’d catch him flicking through your sketchbook but you couldn’t say anything against it as the way his eyes light up and soft smiles upon looking at your latest works, looks that only made you want to draw Viktor even more if it meant this sight becoming more common with the passage of time.

‘You like them?’ You’d ask from the doorway.

‘I love them my dear.’ He replies softly as he presses his forehead against your own, making you smile fondly. ‘But was the drawing of me sleeping necessary?’ He adds playfully as you chuckled.

‘Oh it was very necessary my muse.’ You replied with equal playfulness as you kissed his nose. ‘I saw an opportunity and couldn’t let it pass me by without at least drawing it first,’ Viktor scoffs but the smile upon his lips remained, ‘and besides you looked really peaceful and relaxed that I wanted it to be something I remember. Hoping I get to experience more moments like that to be my muse for my future drawings.’ You finished.

‘I’m glad the to could do that for you my dear.’ Viktor closed his eyes and rested his head further against yours, wanting nothing then to capture this moment within his mind forever, secretly hoping to continue to be the muse of your art projects as your artistic range grew.

‘You’ve always been my muse,’ you said, closing your eyes, ‘you will always will be my muse.’

#arcane #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #viktor arcane #arcane imagines #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #viktor x y/n #viktor x you #viktor fluff #viktor imagines #viktor imagine #viktor x reader

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chuuyrrkisser · 22 hours ago

Text

A Revised Narrative.

— summary… It was supposed to be a regular Tuesday morning, you should be in college running to your next class and pray there were no assignments forgotten but here you were, isekaied to the middle of nowhere surrounded by nothing but cold snowed plane unable to move because your limbs are buried in the thick blanket of snow.

But hey, at least you were in your favorite anime– oh never mind, it's bungo stray dogs, you are so dead...

— content… dazai osamu/reader, chuuya nakahara/reader, reader has an ability, Dazai—typical suicide mentions, slow burn, slow updates, angst, angst with happy ending, because I can’t write angst endings, isekai and transmigration…

— chapter 2/?

— previous chapter…

Your nails dug into the coat as you wrapped it close to your body to protect you from the freezing weather. Dazai insisted that he'd give you a pair of boots, but you were not looking forward to owing the mafia member any more than you already did.

In your defense, you could hand over the coat to him later, and it wouldn't be as awkward as giving him back a pair of boots. How were you going to give it back? Were you supposed to hold on to your school shoes? If you left them behind, you had to give back the boots later and walk with socks like a weirdo. That was too much even for you, so you shut down the offer and stuck to clinging onto the coat like it was your lifeline. The worst part was probably that you had to walk by foot all the way out of the snowy plane to a roadside.

You followed Dazai as he strode purposefully toward the roadside, where a sleek black car awaited, its dark windows gleaming ominously in the winter sun. He paused beside the door, glancing back at you, and you felt a surge of urgency to pick up your pace, nearly jogging over to him as he opened the door.

As you slid into car, your gaze was immediately drawn to a strange box on the middle seat, its presence blocking you from moving in comfortably. You reached for the box but just as your fingers were about to brush it, a tranquil voice interrupts, "That's a bomb." instinctively jerking back, a wave of panic washed over you as you screeched turning your back to exit only to find the door slamming shut right in your face.

You fumbled with the handle, but it was child locked, and your frantic shaking only added to your dread. Just then, the opposite door swung open, and you were met with Dazai's amused smirk, a sight that should have been comforting but instead sent shivers down your spine.

"I'd advise you not to make any contact with it," he said casually, as if discussing the weather, before closing his door with a soft click that seemed to echo in the silence of the car.

The entire ride was terrifying as you pressed yourself against the car door, trying to calm your mind away from thoughts of the bomb and the sociopath sitting just a few inches away from you. Every little bump in the road made you jump, and you swore that the only thing keeping you from having a breakdown was the sheer terror that any sudden movement could set off the device, turning you into the star of a very gruesome scene.

Horrified, you reflected on the absurdity of your situation: you had transmigrated into a world where the first person you encountered was a literal textbook sociopath, and to make matters worse, it was Dazai in his mafia era. It was practically official that you were dead meat, and the only way to escape this nightmare was to bend over backward and pray for a miracle.

Your thoughts spiraled so deeply that you didn't even notice when the car came to a stop in front of the Port Mafia building. Dazai was the first to exit the vehicle, and you could see him waiting patiently beside your door, a mischievous glint in his eye that made your heart race with both fear and confusion. You took a deep breath, trying to center yourself as you opened the door and nearly toppled over, only to be caught by Dazai's steady hand.

"Whoa there! You look horrified!" he exclaimed, delight dancing in his tone as he helped steady you. His laughter was lighthearted, but all you could feel was a rising tide of anxiety as you quickly removed yourself from his grasp and followed him into the building.

You glanced back at the car, still feeling an irrational fear of the bomb that might still be lurking there, as Dazai led you into the lobby. The building was unnecessarily large, the sheer emptiness of the main floor was filled by the presence of a couple stern-faced guards who seemed to watch your every move. You doubted that anything important was present on the ground floor, but the overwhelming atmosphere made your skin crawl.

Without hesitation, Dazai strode into the elevator, and you noted how it required him to scan his ID to access whatever floor he intended to take you to. He flashed a quick glance at you, and for a brief moment, you wondered what thoughts were stirring in his head.

As the elevator ascended with a soft ding, you looked around, heart racing as you realized you had to figure out an escape plan. As fun as it was being next to your favorite character, you were painfully aware that these were not just characters in a book anymore; they were real, with real motivations and no obligation to like you. The knowledge that you held secrets of theirs—information that could easily cross the line into invasion of privacy made your stomach twist with unease.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime and Dazai stepped out, prompting you to follow closely behind. He knocked on a large door, waiting patiently for permission to enter. You strained to hear the muffled voice from within, but it was too distant to decipher.

Just as you were starting to feel a sense of dread building inside you, Dazai gripped a hand that emerged from the door and twisted it. "Behave," he commanded, though you couldn't tell if it was a threat, a warning, or both— either way, it might as well have been the same thing from him.

The door swung open, and you were swept into the room alongside Dazai, your heart pounding in your chest as you took in the scene before you. There, across the polished table, were two familiar faces that would ensure you felt every ounce of your nervousness creep up your spine.

Mori's gaze shifted toward you, a smile spreading across his lips as he assessed you. "I'm assuming you are the one found in the snow?" he inquired, and you nodded, feeling a strange mix of fear and disbelief as you shuffled back slightly, instinctively shielding yourself behind Dazai.

"Woke up with claims that they were from another world where we are characters from a book. I would've shot them the moment they spoke that nonsense—especially since they're a very unreliable narrator," Dazai interjected, his tone light yet laced with an edge of seriousness. You stood there, mouth agape, eyes wide as you processed his words, a chill running down your spine at the thought that he might truly have pulled the trigger.

Mori nodded, humming thoughtfully as he motioned for Dazai to continue, which he did. "But... I found pretty reliable stuff to back their claims up," he added, and in the blink of an eye, your phone, school ID, and keys were tossed onto the table in front of you.

You reached for them instinctively, but Dazai was faster, sliding them just out of your reach. Mori took a closer look at your ID and seemingly dead phone, a coy smile creeping onto his face as he bent the card to examine it, making you panic again.

He looked up at you, that unsettling smile still in place. "We have much to talk about, Y/n L/n."

"Sure, sure—can you stop bending that? If I end up going home, my parents will kill me if that thing breaks!" you blurted, your nerves getting the better of you. Mori chuckled, placing the card back down and sliding it toward you, but once again, just as you made a move to grab it, Dazai snatched it away effortlessly and shoved it into his pocket, leaving you feeling utterly helpless.

Your mind raced as you processed what was happening, the gravity of your situation weighing down on you. You were trapped in a world where danger lurked around every corner, and the people who you used to fangirl for are more than willing to kill you.

You claim that you are from another world so can you expand on that?" Mori questions you as he leans back on the chair, his fingers placed beneath his chin as though in thought.

"Well, uhh... the world I'm in, you guys don't exist—well, you do, but you're fictional. I don't know how I ended up in that snow dump, but I did, and I don't know why either..." you twiddle your thumbs, your heart racing as you try to find the right words to convey the bizarre reality of your situation.

"Do you know... what part of the book you are in?" Mori asks you, his voice steady, while Dazai turns towards you with an intrigued expression, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Your eyes wander in thought, reflecting the chaos within. "Well, I'm not sure of the exact part, but... do you know where Paul Valerine is?" You ask, hoping that mentioning the minor character will provide some clarity.

Mori hums, nodding slowly, "He... Paul Valerine is someone I'm familiar with. Do you want me to send someone to see where his location is?—"

"No, no, no! So he's still... somewhere. That's enough to know what timeline I'm in." You freak out, shaking your head vigorously at the thought of barging into the complicated plot line so soon, the idea of disturbing the narrative sending a chill down your spine.

"Ah... does Paul Valerine have a major part to play in this?" Mori questions, his curiosity piqued as he leans forward, the light catching the sharp angles of his face.

You scoff, laughing lightly, "Oh, no, not at all. You'd have to have zero social life and use your last sanity to know characters that aren't in the main series..." Your laughter fades, leaving an uncomfortable silence that envelops the room, making the others stare at you with a mix of concern and bewilderment.

"Well—my point is, yeah, I know what era I'm in but not when exactly... that will take a while," you explain, your voice steadying as you push through the anxiety bubbling within.

Mori thinks for a moment, tapping his fingers against the armrest of his chair. "Well, at least you know what's to come... and that will be useful." The way he says it gives the implication of being involved with the mafia sends a wave of unease coming over you.

"Sooo, what now? Do I just spout information of the future?" you ask awkwardly, trying to mask your apprehension with a lighthearted tone.

"Oh, well, I thought you'd be tired and need to rest. But if not, I would gladly—"

"Nope! Not at all! I will cry if I am awake a minute longer." You laugh phonily, the sound echoing hollowly in the room before you clear your throat, trying to regain composure. "But uh... where do I, you know... rest for the night?"

"Oh, the couch over there. You are useful from context, but I need to know if you are worth keeping..." Mori smiles, pointing at the red velvet chaise across the room, its plush fabric luminous under the dim light. You turn your gaze to the couch, feeling reluctant at the idea of resting in the office of the port mafia's boss.

"Oh!... How fun!..."

— next chapter…

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #A revised narrative

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didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback · 2 days ago

Note

The thing about not sharing images that haven't been shared by the players reminds me of the video of Alexia in the green sweatshirt with a grumpy face at a party. I've wanted to make memes of that video but I don't know where it came from and judging by Alexia's face I don't think it was in her plans for that video to be public

well, you've raised a complicated ethical question about social media here. because what does private and public actually mean? and how far within a player's family and friends is it acceptable to post? and this is not just about alexia, but this is applicable to any footballer out there!

it's one thing to share posts from a player's immediately family members with a public profile (like alba putellas but not from eli who is private!) and from behind the scenes/promos from ads/brands (like from alexia's stylist).

however, when we are talking about alexia's or any player's friends, they are regular people. they are not footballers nor are they other types of celebrities. many of them had open profiles and then went private when they saw fans follow them and interact with them. i have seen fans posting from these private profiles which they shouldn't do.

a few of them still have 'open' profiles. but are we really stalking alexia's circle of friends and friends of friends to post photos of her? that's crossing the line, in my opinion. and just because a friend of hers has an 'open' profile, i don't think we should take advantage because that has forced a lot of her friends to change their interactions altogether.

finally, another thing that happens is that someone downloads a private photo to share within their group of friends via a whatsapp group or something and it makes its way online. don't download it in the first place! 🙄

ultimately, it's up to you to come up with your own set of ethical rules, but keep in mind that players don't owe us anything and that they are still people with family and friends and we shouldn't take advantage of that! 🙏🙏

#fandom in a nutshell #fandom culture #futfem #woso

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misspelledwordswizard · 23 hours ago

Note

Good morning, afternoon or evening. I saw that your requests were open and I wanted to take the opportunity to make you one with one.

We all know that Time and Twilight are related in some way. So, my request was about how Time and Twi would react to finding out that reader is their descendant with some family and obviously platonic fluff

This is so cute! I believe both would be like "girl dad mode on" hehe Thank you for the request, I hope you like it <3

I had been in the group for a short time. I’m not sure how I ended up here, or why, I just know that suddenly I was having to hang out with nine heroes from Hyrule who all had the same name. Okay, I can handle a little adventure, I may be a farm girl, but being a hero has always been a dream of mine, it’s in my blood. Literally.

From the moment that strange group told me their names, or rather, name, and explained that they came from different times, I was already sure that I was related to at least one of them. Well, at least I know that I’m descended from a hero named Link who saved Hyrule.

The only problem is that I have no idea which of them I’m related to, especially when they all look so similar and the timelines are so confusing! That’s why I decided to keep this information to myself until I knew for sure.

— Oh, Malon sent hugs to everyone. – Time said, as he read the letter recently delivered by the postman. I’m still curious about how he does it, but I’m more interested in the name unknown to me.

— Malon? Who is this?

— Oh, that’s right, you haven’t met her yet. Malon is my wife. – The Old Man answered me, with a somewhat proud smile on his face, he must love her very much.

— Oh, and she’s the owner of the LonLon Ranch, back in the Old Man’s era! – Wind added, this fact might be nothing more than a curiosity for most, but it ended up meaning more than that to me.

If Time is married to the owner of a ranch, it’s likely that his descendants inherited it, and over time it may have become my family’s ranch. Could the Hero of Time be my ancestor?

— Oh, and maybe you’ve already come to this conclusion too, but Twilight also comes from a ranch, it’s not for nothing that we call him Rancher. – The Champion completed, and only then did I realize the obvious.

But then, which one of them is my ancestor? I could try to find out more details about it, but it would take too long if I did it that way, so I decided to open my mouth, maybe they can help me.

— Well, then it’s likely that I’m a descendant of one of you two.

All eyes turned to me, I think the two in question almost broke their necks with that move. Was that really that surprising? Soon everyone was around me, curious.

— Why do you say that? – Time was the first to ask. Fair enough.

— Well, I always knew I was a descendant of a Link, I just didn’t know which one of you, and since I come from a ranch too, I think it’s quite likely.

— Why didn’t you say so before? – Twilight asked, I figured this question would come.

— I didn’t want to create expectations, or else I might upset everyone and not get any answers. But I still don’t know which of you two are my relatives.

A silence settled in as everyone looked at each other, as if they were deciding what to say. They knew something.

— Hm, how can we say this? – Warriors began. – Both of them!

I blinked in confusion, many doubts swirling in my mind. Both of them? But they were quicker to answer them.

— It turns out that I am a descendant of the Old Man, so either you are a descendant of him and my ancestor, or a descendant of both of us. – Twilight explained, and then things began to fall into place. Indeed, there were doubts in my family as to whether we were descendants of one or two Heroes, with this the answer becomes clear.

— In that case, I’m almost certain that both of you are my ancestors, I really wasn’t sure if I was descended from one or both of you. – I explained finally, reaching the final conclusion. Wow, a descendant of two Links, who would have thought.

They both looked at each other for a moment, they even seemed to be talking telepathically, but it seems that their choices of actions were mutual, because in the next second I was being crushed in a hug by two strong men. I can’t breathe, it’s definitely a hug worthy of a father.

I was finally released from the grip and able to breathe again, which I did dramatically, drawing laughter from some of the boys.

— I can hardly believe this, is this how you felt when you met me? – The Rancher asked Time, with a smile on his face.

— Hm, basically. Oh, Malon will love meeting you! I’ll write to her about it. – The old man seemed happier than I had ever seen him in the short time I had known him.

I myself was still processing all of this. I had not just met one of my ancestors, but two of them? Before I knew it, I was smiling like an idiot. It was like I now had two more dads. Even if one of them was almost my age, which was a little strange.

— Oh, when I can, I want to show you the family books about you, so you can check the information! – I said excitedly and they happily agreed with me.

— The food is ready! – Wind said, drawing their attention.

— Come, sit near us, we have a lot to talk about! – Twilight said, guiding me by the hand to the rest of the group.

— Yes, little one, tell us everything about you and your family. – Time completed, resting a hand on my shoulder comfortingly.

Who would have thought I would have such a cool family walking with me all this time.

#link x reader #linked universe x reader #linked universe #tloz #linked universe fanfic #lu x reader #x reader #legend of zelda

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kwamiwayzz · 3 days ago

Text

Jeckole Yapping

Had to dig through my old posts to find the template, but I'm bored and doing this again but for Jecka and Nicole this time. Mostly headcanons and such below

• When or if I started shipping it:

I'm going to be honest, but I don't remember. I only got into Co09 a few months ago. All I know is that once I watched the out of context videos on Class of '09 and Re-Up, I wanted more content of them and came across a lot of really good fanart and fanfic.

I think there were a lot of boxes checked off when I slowly went down the rabbit hole lol. There's an emotionally constipated dark-girl paired with a preppy blonde girl who acts as the former's foil. I think what really drew me into them, fanart aside, were the foils and parallels between them. The codependency, expanded upon by Progman, was probably the final nail that dragged me down the brainrot.

• My thoughts:

I've known about them for awhile, and thought they were some random white girls in a cult classic VN that somehow regained a surge of popularity last year. I didn't know the VN was relatively new, and most of the time when I do ship Jeckole, it's without the creator in mind. They have a certain flavor to them that hits in a way where I can't stop brainrotting over them.

Someone mentioned this in a fic comment, but they see them as foils when it comes to dealing with people and the world around them--where Nicole acts as this snarling animal that will bite you if you get too close, while Jecka acts as this wall that doesn't allow things to get to her even if it does bother her. In a way, they envy each other for that, and after reading that fic it reinforced why their dynamic is one that I gravitate towards compared to the others. They have pieces of each other that they're missing and they can't live without the other (I love codependent Jeckole).

• What makes me sad about them:

In-game, they probably wouldn't last after high school when they go their separate ways. As much as Nicole sees Jecka as a slightly more "special" person to her than most people at the school, their friendship is more for convenience--with Nicole finding Jecka to be more tolerable and cool compared to everyone else (along with the added bonus of not being a loner), and Jecka finding Nicole more fun to hang around with than all her other school friends despite knowing how much Nicole is a fucked up mess and bad influence. In-game Nicole is also someone who would continue to keep everyone at an arm's length and also wouldn't fight too hard (outside of the Jecka and counselor smoking scene) to maintain any meaningful relationships once they're out of her reach.

But also, who cares what the creator thinks because fanart and fanfic exists lmaoooooo.

• What makes me happy about them:

There's a scene in Flip Side where Nicole calls Jecka first thing in the morning at 7am asking her where McDonald's keeps their frozen patties, only for Jecka to say they don't have them because McD serves breakfast during those hours. Then Jecka calls Nicole stupid, and I just found that scene funny in an oddly comforting way.

Nicole is comfortable enough to bug Jecka and wake her up so early in the morning for something so mundane, while Jecka just stays on the phone listening to whatever antics she's in instead of hanging up immediately and going back to bed. I also mentioned this in another post, but someone on Twitter said the thing they love most about Jeckole is how Nicole was willing to get to know Jecka even after saying she has no desire to make any connections at her new school. It can be interpreted as a convenience thing on Nicole's end, but every route in the original game has her willing to either ask for Jecka's name or share her name when they first meet.

To me, their back and forth dynamic keeps them balanced enough to stay fucked up with the potential of becoming well-adjusted in the future.

• Things done in art/fic that annoys me:

There's a number of interpretations when it comes to the Co09 characters, so I understand it can be hard to write them. But for me personally, I'm not a fan of when Nicole is depicted as either way too nice and uncharacteristically soft or way too mean and following the stereotypical SBN interpretation that "Nicole doesn't give a shit about anyone or anything".

• Things I look for in art/fic:

When they're codependent :) or when they're codependent with a slight chance of them getting healthier over time. Also, just them being stupid together.

I'm also one of the few people (I haven't come across too many others yet) that seek out future Jeckole stuff. Whenever I picture them as adults, it's always aurawra21's art in mind.

• Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

I'm a monoshipper when it comes to Class of '09, so probably no one. It adds to that codependent flavor :) but if you want a real answer...

For Nicole, probably Emily.

For Jecka, probably Emily also.

• My happily ever after for them:

Moving out of their town, healing from their trauma, and getting healthier over time. Maybe they won't be better people exactly, but they'd at least be less fucked up and a little happier (with Nicole finding some will to keep living past 30) after cutting off their toxic families.

• What is their favorite activity?:

Nicole forcing Jecka to watch Mythbusters and How It's Made with her (in exchange for watching Smallville and Charmed with Jecka). Also, probably smoking together, assuming that Jecka hasn't quit her smoking habit ten years later.

#class of 09 #jeckole #turtle speaks

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pbaz7 · 4 hours ago

Text

It'll Always Be Her Chapter III

AN: I'm back with the next part as a few people requested that I post today. Let me know what you think and if you have any ideas of how things should or will play out next.

To say the last few days were tense would be an understatement. Paige had always thought she was good at compartmentalizing, keeping her personal life separate from the rest of her world. But Azzi wasn’t kidding when she said she was done with the hidden flirting. If Paige thought the quiet smirks and whispered comments were bad, Azzi’s new approach was downright audacious—and she wasn’t the only one feeling the heat.

The first instance came after their season opener. The team continuing with tradition celebrated their victory at Ted’s, a local favorite known for its lively atmosphere, privacy, and amazing drinks. Tonight drinks were flowing, the music was loud, and the energy from their win had everyone in high spirits. Paige had just started nursing her third drink when a group of fan girls approached her.

"Paige, right?" one of them asked breathlessly, eyes sparkling. "You were amazing out there! We were totally screaming for you."

Paige smiled, her polite, down-to-earth demeanor shining through as she graciously thanked them. The conversation dragged on, though, and she found herself stuck between answering their rapid-fire questions and trying not to let her eyes wander too much. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, her gaze kept drifting toward Azzi, who was leaning against the bar near their teammates with a devilish grin as if she knew something like this would happen tonight.

Azzi met her eyes and raised her glass in a silent toast, the playful gleam in her eyes promising mischief. Paige could feel her cheeks warming even more.

It wasn’t long before Azzi decided it was time to make her move. She slipped away from her spot at the bar and strode over, moving with a confidence that made heads turn. The fan girls didn't even notice at first, too caught up in their excitement. Azzi, however, made sure to grab their attention.

She leaned in, her voice husky and warm, "Hey, blondie. You look like you need another drink.”

Azzi’s hand lightly brushed against Paige’s arm, sending a surge of heat up her spine. But it didn’t stop there—no, Azzi was determined to make a statement. She leaned closer, her body subtly pressing into Paige’s as she slid into the space between Paige’s legs, standing far too close.

Paige’s heart skipped a beat as Azzi’s fingers lightly traced the top of her thigh, just enough to make her skin prickle. "Seems like you’re the star of the night," Azzi murmured, her lips only inches away from Paige’s ear. "But I think you might need a break from all the attention."

The fan girls stared, their wide eyes flicking between Paige and Azzi, but Azzi didn’t care. In fact, she reveled in it, loving that only her touch could make Paige’s breath catch in her throat. She placed a possessive hand on Paige’s waist and leaned even closer, her lips brushing against Paige’s earlobe as she whispered, "I could make your night a lot more interesting, you know."

The fan girls finally took the hint and began to shuffle away, clearly flustered. Paige could barely even process what had just happened, her mind racing with confusion and excitement.

As the last of the fan girls disappeared into the crowd, Paige leaned back in her chair, trying to act nonchalant, but the heat in her cheeks betrayed her. "Well, that was bold," she said, the teasing edge in her voice covering up her flustered state. "Not worried about the rumors you’re about to start?"

Azzi smirked, her fingers still lightly grazing Paige’s arm, and she shrugged with an air of total confidence. "Let them talk," she said, her voice playful yet low. "It’s worth it to see you blush like that." She leaned in just slightly, her lips brushing against Paige’s ear as she added, "Maybe next time, you won’t be able to resist."

Paige’s breath hitched at the suggestion, her mind reeling. Azzi pulled back, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You know I’m just getting started," Azzi teased, enjoying every moment of this. "You better keep up."

Paige laughed, shaking her head, but the truth was, her heart was racing. Azzi’s boldness was a challenge—and she knew that her counterpart always loved a good competition.

…

The night was in full swing, the music pounding through the room and the mood light with laughter and a few too many drinks. Paige was feeling the buzz, her inhibitions loosening as the drinks went down. But there was something nagging at her—the sight of Azzi laughing and dancing, surrounded by people who were getting just a little too touchy. There was one guy in particular who kept lingering too close to Azzi, touching her arm, laughing just a little too loudly. It made Paige’s chest tighten with something unfamiliar, something she wasn’t ready to label yet.

But instead of stewing in frustration, Paige decided that it was her turn to be a little bold now. Her gaze locked onto Azzi across the room, and with a slight smirk, she made her way over to the crowd surrounding her. When she reached Azzi, she didn’t waste any time.

Azzi was holding court in the center of the group, laughing at something one of the guys had said. As Paige approached, she felt a sudden surge of confidence—alcohol and adrenaline mixing in her veins. She stepped right up to Azzi, cutting into the conversation with a playful grin.

"Well, well, look who’s the life of the party," Paige said, her voice a little louder than usual, enough to draw Azzi's attention.

Azzi turned, surprised at first, but her lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Says the campus superstar herself," she teased, her gaze flicking down to Paige’s hand, where she was holding a drink. Before Paige could react, Azzi took the drink right out of her hand, taking a sip as she looked up at Paige through her eyelashes with a glint of mischief in her eyes.

"Hey!" Paige laughed, a little taken aback, but the playful challenge in Azzi’s expression made her pulse quicken. "You gonna steal all my drinks now?"

Azzi shrugged, savoring the taste of the drink as she kept her eyes locked on Paige. "Maybe I’ll steal more than that," she said, her tone low and teasing, her lips curling around the rim of the glass.

Paige leaned in slightly, a flirtatious edge to her voice. "You’ve already stolen my attention," she said, her hand brushing against Azzi’s arm as she took a step closer. "What’s next? Are you planning on stealing my heart too?"

Azzi’s smile widened, and she placed the drink down on the table beside them, stepping even closer to Paige. "If I wanted to steal your heart, blondie," she whispered, her voice low and smooth, "I’d have to make sure you’re worth stealing."

Paige’s heart skipped a beat at the boldness of Azzi’s words. She hadn’t expected the conversation to take this turn, but the heat between them was undeniable now. "I’m not sure if you can handle me," Paige shot back, her eyes glinting with challenge. "But you can try."

Azzi chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver through Paige’s spine. "I like a challenge," she replied, her gaze never leaving Paige’s. "And you, Paige... you’re definitely a challenge."

Paige took a step closer, closing the space between them, her breath hitching at the way Azzi was looking at her. "Maybe I like making things a little difficult," she murmured, her lips almost brushing Azzi’s as she leaned in just slightly. "Maybe I want to see if you can handle me too."

Azzi’s eyes darkened, the playful glint now tinged with something else, something heavier, as if the air between them had shifted. She didn’t back away. Instead, she closed the gap a little more, her lips just barely brushing against Paige’s ear. "You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into P," she whispered, the words sending a thrill through Paige.

Paige’s breath caught in her throat, and before she could respond, Azzi pulled back, giving her a sly grin. "But that’s the fun of it, isn’t it?"

Paige, still reeling from the closeness, tried to keep her cool but failed. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. "Maybe," she said, her voice breathy but full of intent, "but you're not the only one who can play this game, Azzi."

Azzi’s eyes lit up with excitement. "We’ll see about that," she said, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips. "But maybe we should just leave the game for later."

Paige nodded, a little breathless from the flirtation, but she wasn’t backing down. "Later," she echoed, her gaze lingering on Azzi as they both stood there in the middle of the dance floor. The tension between them was thick, and neither one was willing to be the first to break it.

…

As the night wore on, the energy in the room started to calm. The music had softened, the crowd thinning as people began winding down. Azzi found herself sitting with Caroline in a quieter corner of the bar, nursing a drink and watching the others slowly slip into their own worlds. Caroline, ever the perceptive one, couldn't help but notice the way Azzi kept glancing toward Paige across the room.

"Alright, I gotta ask," Caroline said, her tone teasing but curious. "What happened with you two? You’ve been practically attached at the hip tonight, eying each other across the bar and yet... here you are. Not exactly at her side, huh?"

Azzi smirked, her gaze following Paige for a moment as the blonde chatted with a group of friends. There was a softness in her eyes, one that Caroline had learned to recognize in Azzi whenever she was looking at Paige. "You’re right," she said, her voice quieter now, the playfulness dimming just a little. "We’ve been close tonight. More than usual, even."

Caroline raised an eyebrow. "So, why aren’t you at home in her bed? Seems like that would be the natural progression from here."

Azzi exhaled slowly, her smile soft but sincere. "It would be, yeah. But as much as I want to go there... it’s not the right time," she explained, her eyes meeting Caroline’s with a mixture of frustration and understanding. "Paige is with Jess. And we both know that... well, we don’t want to do anything until she ends things with her. Jess thinks she’s her girlfriend, no matter how clear things are for us right now and we’re not the type of people to just ignore that."

Caroline nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of her drink. "Yeah, but come on, Azzi," she pressed, her voice laced with amusement. "You two have been making it pretty obvious that something’s going on. I saw the way she was looking at you earlier. And don’t even get me started on how she’s been touching you all night."

Azzi’s lips curled into a wry smile. "It’s a game, Car. We both know what we’re doing. But as much as we can flirt and play this little cat-and-mouse thing... we’re not going to cross the line. At least not yet." She glanced back over at Paige again, her gaze softening as she watched the blonde laugh with her friends. "We’re both good people. And neither of us wants to hurt Jess. I want Paige. I really do. But we’re not going to let things get messy."

Caroline gave Azzi a long look, clearly understanding. "You’re being patient. I get it. But, come on. You’re not gonna let this whole thing with Jess drag on forever, right? You know you two are something. Don’t let it slip through your fingers just because of some messy situation."

Azzi nodded, her fingers tapping on the edge of her glass thoughtfully. "I know," she said quietly, a certain resolve in her voice. "I want this. I want Paige. But it needs to happen the right way. I don’t want to risk tainting something real with mess and confusion. If we’re going to do this, it has to be with everything in the right place."

Caroline leaned back, nodding approvingly. "Alright. I can respect that. But don’t let the waiting game become a trap, you know?"

Azzi chuckled softly, the playful edge returning to her voice. "For now, this game is enough."

As she finished speaking, Paige suddenly appeared at their table, looking a little tipsy but still as radiant as ever. She caught Azzi’s eye, and a smile tugged at her lips. "Hey," Paige said, her voice slightly more subdued now but still warm. "You ready to head back to my suite?"

Azzi’s heart skipped a beat at the simple words, and she couldn’t suppress the small grin that appeared on her face. She looked up at Paige, her expression soft and affectionate. "Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go."

The two stood up together, the familiar buzz between them still crackling in the air. As they walked toward the exit, their arms brushed slightly, a silent reminder of the tension they had been building for days. They didn’t need words. They were content, for now, simply being in each other’s company, the promise of something more hanging in the air between them.

They left Ted’s together, side by side, their shared glances speaking volumes, neither one of them rushing anything, but both silently acknowledging that whatever came next, they were in it together.

…

The next time this tension was undeniably high they were in the weight room the next day.

Paige had always considered herself a pretty disciplined person. She was serious about her workouts, always focused, always pushing herself. But lately, in the presence of Azzi, everything seemed to blur into a haze of tension and unspoken words. The weight room, usually a place where she could clear her mind, was becoming a place where she couldn’t stop thinking about the girl across from her. And today was no different.

They had been joking around all morning, laughing and teasing each other in between sets, but there was something in the air today—something that made the playful banter feel a little too heavy, a little too charged. The tension was so thick between them that it almost felt like the air around them crackled.

“Alright,” Paige said, a smirk tugging at her lips as she clapped her hands together, “time to show you how it’s done.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed, leaning back against the bench as she watched Paige with a confident grin. “You think you’re gonna impress me, huh?”

Paige chuckled and set herself in position, already feeling the adrenaline pumping. “You’d be surprised. You’ve been working with me for a while now. I think you know I’m full of surprises.”

Paige finished her set flawlessly and with a wink, she moved into position to spot Azzi for the bench press. The younger girl settled onto the bench, her focus immediately shifting to the barbell in front of her. But there was a tension in her posture, a sense that something was different today, even if she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Paige's eyes lingered on Azzi’s form as she settled, her muscles flexing under her shirt as she prepared for the set. There was something about the way Azzi moved that Paige had always admired, but today felt like the perfect time to tell the younger girl this.

As Azzi lowered the bar to her chest, Paige adjusted her grip, hovering just above her. Her tone was light, teasing, but there was a hint of something darker underneath. “You’re doing great, Azzi. Just like that. You know, you’ve got such a beautiful form�� it’s hard to concentrate when you’re looking at me like that.”

Azzi’s breath caught for a split second as she looked up at Paige. She hadn’t been expecting that kind of comment, especially not with so many people around. But the glint in Paige’s eyes made it clear that this was more than just a passing remark. The older girl was baiting her.

“Is that so?” Azzi teased, trying to keep her voice steady, but there was an edge to it now, something that hadn’t been there before. “What, you think you can distract me while I’m lifting?”

Paige smirked, her lips curving in a way that made Azzi’s stomach flip. “I think you might like it. You seem to like when I’m close. You’re doing so good though, but I might need to help you a bit more. Want me to talk you through it?”

Azzi’s eyes narrowed playfully, but the challenge in her gaze shifted into something more intense. “You’re not shy, are you?” she asked, her voice dipping into something lower. She was starting to feel the pull too—this was the game they had been playing, but today, it felt like it was about to break.

Paige’s voice was soft but provocative, right in Azzi’s ear. “I don’t need to be shy when you’re so easy to read. It’s not hard to tell you like when I get close.”

The tension between them thickened, the playful atmosphere from earlier now giving way to something far more charged. Paige leaned forward, a hand brushing Azzi’s shoulder as she hovered close, not letting go of her spot. She could feel Azzi’s body react under her touch, her chest rising and falling with the exertion of the set.

“Paige…” Azzi’s voice was barely a whisper now, but there was no mistaking the heat in it.

Paige smiled, the teasing edge never leaving her voice. “You know, Azzi, you’re really good at keeping things under control. But I’m starting to wonder how long you’ll be able to do that when I’m so close.”

The younger girl’s eyes flickered, caught between a flash of amusement and a deeper, darker desire. It was as if a switch had flipped in her mind, and now, she was just as bold as Paige had been. Azzi’s breath hitched, her eyes meeting Paige’s with a mischievous grin. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to find out, won’t you?” she said, a hint of defiance in her voice. She finished the set with an extra burst of energy, and Paige noticed the shift in her—the way her hands gripped the bar with more intensity, how her eyes never left Paige’s.

Paige couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at her lips. “Oh, I’m definitely going to find out. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure to keep an eye on you. Wouldn’t want you to lose control.”

Azzi laughed softly, but the sound was almost a challenge in itself. “You think you can keep me under control, huh?”

Paige leaned in even closer, the heat between them palpable now. Her voice was barely a whisper, low and teasing. “I think I can handle it. I’m starting to realize I might enjoy watching you lose control better though.”

The comment was out before Paige could think better of it. Azzi’s eyes widened for a brief second, caught off guard by the directness of it, but there was a flicker of something darker in her gaze. Paige was playing the game differently now, and Azzi found herself intrigued, maybe even a little rattled.

Azzi took a deep breath, gathering herself before speaking, her tone laced with a teasing edge. “Well, you’ve got me curious now. Let’s see who loses control first.” She pushed the bar back up with a confident grunt, her body moving fluidly as she caught Paige’s gaze again. “But don’t think I’m the only one who can push boundaries.”

The words lingered in the air between them, and for a moment, neither of them moved, as if the world outside the two of them had disappeared entirely. The only thing that mattered was the heat that surged between their gazes, the pulse of their shared breath.

Before either of them could continue down the dangerous path they were on, CD’s voice broke through the haze. “Alright, ladies, let’s move on to the next rotation.”

The interruption was almost a relief. Almost. Paige took a step back, her chest still rising and falling rapidly, trying to steady herself. Azzi, on the other hand, exhaled slowly, a sly smile playing at the corners of her lips as she stood up, brushing off her shirt with a nonchalant air. But there was still that charged look in her eyes—the one that told Paige everything they’d just experienced wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

“Later, Paige,” Azzi said softly, her voice a teasing murmur as she turned to walk away, leaving Paige behind to wonder just how much further they could take this game before it consumed them both.

#pazzi

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corasexigence · 10 hours ago

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Intox Play Primer

Vet for high risk play. If you don't have the utmost trust in someone, control what you're putting in your own body and know where it all came from.

Check for interactions. Yes, this means sharing complete information about whatever medications the person getting drugged is on. No, the interactions are not always intuitive. Yes, this includes things like alcohol. Ideally, ask your doctor about interactions with whatever you're about to play with- they're trained in spotting interactions, you're probably not.

ETA- @vekarin-striae mentioned that pharmacists are often cheaper, more specialized, and less invasive to talk to about drug interactions.

If you've checked the interactions yourself, assume you might have missed something. Even if you've gotten your doctor to check, be aware they might have missed something. I once caught a potassium deficiency issue in someone's existing medication that their doctor prescribed them.

ROUND 1- Use it for its own sake before you play with it. Spend the time together and set yourself up for success: easy access to food, water, comfort media, and comfortable places to sit and lie down. Know how long it should last. Get someone who's used it before to tripsit if you can. Don't give yourself any tasks that involve new skills. Be ready to offer yourself or your partner a redirect from negative or anxious trains of thought.

Know what a good time on your drug physically looks and feels like. This is crucial, because things might go sideways in a way you're not expecting. Don't just be watching for specific signs of an overdose (though those are worth keeping in mind too)- if something seems wrong, get help. Seconds matter and you're probably not a professional.

Similarly: if the drug is at all sedative, or a downer, or long-lasting, and they're unconscious before it's out of their system, check for breathing and check for pulse. Also, your risk profile is your own, but I don't fuck around with hard sedatives- there's too fine a line between which body systems they shut down.

Start with a low-to-standard dose, and adjust doses for any relevant interactions (e.g. estradiol approximately halves liver tolerance [alcohol, weed, diphenhydramine], SSRIs approximately double psychedelic tolerance).

In order to avoid dependence issues, I wait a default of two weeks between recreational uses of any drug. (I only count caffeine here if I'm having more than two cups of tea in a day.)

ROUND 2- Play with it scripted and above board before you play with it in an explicitly cnc way. Your communication and mental state will have shifted, and you'll need to learn to accommodate that; make sure you try things out without added communication barriers first. Also, make sure to talk about how everything went afterwards when you're both sober!

If you're going to adjust doses, do it slowly and carefully. Most easily accessible recreational drugs can be incremented by half the standard dose. Some drugs are incredibly sensitive to fine adjustments; this is why Fentanyl, for example, is so dangerous and not recommended to use.

ROUND 3- Don't get comfortable. Try to have as peaceful and relaxed an experience as you want, and keep an eye on things as you play with different emotional states- but DEFINITELY continue to keep an eye on safety. It doesn't stop being a concern because you've done it once and everything went fine.

ETA- Mind how drugs affect things like pain tolerance! You might miss important signals from your body. Also, pay attention to overlap with your neurotype when planning and risk profiling. You might desire or achieve different effects depending on your own specific brain.

#theory and practice #edge play #cnc drugging

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remturtle · 1 day ago

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Art WIP dump :3

Some info about the pieces for those interested:

Image 1:

A WIP of a Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler OC inspired by Lucifer Morningstar from The Sandman (very good show btw, highly recommend.) a few twists and tweaks have been added, and lore from the manga regarding demons had been taken into account as well (not much mind you, mainly Sebastian’s first appearance in the cult and his shape-shift-iness)

The relationship they share with Sebastian was going to be a metaphor for harmful drug addiction and toxic codependent relationships- but I never got around to fleshing out info and their dynamics (or finalising a design for that matter)

Image 2:

had an idea for yuu/Vil angst that was literally just yuu dying mid-overblot, never got around for finishing it but I had the idea to have their blot-infected corpse start to fuse with vil’s overblot form to create a nasty-looking abomination thing. (Twisted Wonderland)

Image 3:

A riff on the phantom of the opera - I had an idea for a world filled with old thriller/mystery/classics characters like victor frankenstien, Jekyll and Hyde, Dracula, Carmilla, Sherlock Holmes and the likes. Tbh the whole idea is a bit gimmicky but I’m having fun with it :3

Image 4:

originally created as a twst OC based on madame mim: Memphis/mimzy/mim. I came up with some twst universe lore related to malleus and his house (because I love fueding noble houses and the chaos it creates narratively). He is a type of draconic-fae but I never dug too deep into that for the twst lore. I initially struggled through several design before settling (for the moment) on this design- and thought it would be hilarious to making him the fruitiest straight man alive. And I think we all appreciate a guy whose in touch with both his masculinity and his femininity :D

Image 5:

I cannot stress enough how much I’m low-key embarassed by this but… I started playing my favourite childhood game again and was struck with the urge for fanart so I came up with a cool, slightly darker au for it. The art is of Greely and Peck, who act as the demigods/deities. Haven’t yet decided what I want them to reside over but I liked the idea of them acting as a duo because of how often they’re paired together in lore. (Yes. This is Animal Jam. The national geographic kids game.)

That’s about it, hope you enjoyed the ramble :3

#my art #yuu yamada #vil schoenheit #greely #peck aj #Memphis Mim #original characters

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onyx-syn · 2 days ago

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Pornstar LA! Buggy x Female Reader/Male Reader Headcanons

Warnings: Smut, Modern Au, Female/Male Reader, Masturbation, Unprotected Sex, Filming Sexual Activities, Fingering, Inappropriate use of the devil fruit, Pet Names, Blowjobs, Handjobs, Praises, and Public Sex

*Don't steal my writings and claim it as your own*

*18+ Only*

A/N: This has been on my mind ALL day at work, this and a curly imagine but you know how it goes ✨

🌹Buggy💠

🌹Buggy is always the one to make flashy performances and be out there for the whole world to see, everyone knows that by now. But what would happen if in the modern world he was on the side pornstar with his favorite ‘performer’, his partner -you-

💠When you guys start talking, he will tell you first hand that he is a pornstar, and not just a pornhub artist or anything, I can imagine him doing more of an OnlyFans type of fan page for his porn videos or a crappy porn website that is oddly sketchy with its ads. Either way, he will tell you in the first conversation that he is a pornstar, get it out of the gate and overwith

TEXTING Buggy ...

You: Hello!

Him: Hello

You: How are you?

Him: I’m a pornstar fyi

You: Oh…. and?

🌹He does want to make sure that is something you are comfortable with though and maybe staring in a few of his videos, he understands that it’s not for everyone -hell, he didn’t even think he would find himself on a porn website with thousands of fans that get off on themselves from watching his videos

💠He shows you his porn account, clo-um-wing_around. He mixed the word cum and clown together and thought that was the most brilliant idea he came up with. You convinced him to change it to something more easy to understand and actually speak, so that's how only-clowning-around came to existence

🌹Before you, he would only make videos of him jacking off to the camera, usually in a dimly lit room like his or in a public bathroom in the stall, never showing his face. He also definitely has(had) a sex doll, mostly showing the bottom of his cock and thighs slamming into the doll. He also has a fleshlight that he uses here and there- it's one of the clear ones so you can see through it and see his cock just slide perfectly in and out of it

💠Makes sure he doesn't show his face, both because of his own insecurities, but also because he doesn't want everyone knowing who makes these videos, especially if his coworkers find him? Oh the humanity

🌹Modern au Buggy has a tattoo of his jolly Roger on the top of his shaft, the bottom of his stomach. So people know they're watching a only-clowning-around video when they see that obvious hint right on his stomach

💠Of course he doesn't use those as much anymore as he used to. If you're down to make porn videos with him and are comfortable with it, he drops those things almost entirely (when he misses you he'll use a fleshlight and make a video about it)

🌹Your first video together is special, he makes sure to not include your face in it for the privacy of you. The video itself is vanilla, a simple missionary position with the camera focusing on the side view of your bodies, face out of the screen

💠Buggy is slow with his thrusts, his hands pinning yours above your head, as his thrusts start to pick up- your legs draped over his hips. The sound of skin slapping becoming louder and louder

🌹The room is dimly lit, only light being emitted was from the flash of the camera playing, showing the glistening sweat that was starting to form from the heat and intensity that you two were creating in the room. Your moans over throwing the sound of skin slapping, only making Buggy go faster. He makes sure you cum first before he does, watching your body melt underneath him as you do

💠Buggy pulls out before he finishes, letting his cock release all over your stomach and chest. His release has 50/50 range, it'll either just continuously drip from his tip or release so far it hits your face

🌹When Buggy releases the video, neither of you expected it to blow up as it did. With many comments suggesting ideas or requests for you guys to do, such as fucking in a park, pool sex etc.

💠Buggy is down to do almost anything -of course having his limits- with you. He is more than thrilled to do another video with you, always giving you love and affection afterwards. He'll drown you in kisses and telling you how good you did

"You did beautiful baby, don't worry okay? I'm here now, no need to worry"

🌹He gives you a nice bath after each time you guys have sex, joining in with you after wards as he tends to your aching back and shoulders, or depending on what position you guys do, he'll tend to helping those particular areas like your ass, hips, tita etc

💠He always wants to make sure you're comfortable with what's happening and afterwards to. Even out in public when he feels a bit risque, he makes sure you are comfortable with it

- (Female Reader Addition) Both of you sit comfortably at the table of the restaurant, seated right next to each other, Buggy's arms wrapped around your waist caressing your hip with his thumb gently.

The restaurant was bustling with people coming in and out, overworking the workers like their life depend on it.

You've figured that it would take time before a waiter could get to you, so your focus went over to your boyfriend still holding you in his grasp. When you look at him, you can see the hint of mischief behind his turquoise eyes.

With an eyebrow raised and a suggestive smirk, you speak. "Whatcha thinking about hm?" You asked him.

Buggy grins at your words, having a particular idea in mind. His free hand moves to your thigh underneath the table, squeezing it, his fingers moving ever so closer to your inner thigh.

Buggy checks the surrounding area to make sure no one is watching you two. And when the close is clear, he leans his head down to your ear- kissing the end of it before speaking, his words low in tone filled with lust.

"Why don't we have some fun doll?" He chuckles underneath his breath, sending chills throughout your body.

You can feel your cheeks start to heat up at his words -knowing what he is suggesting- your breathing starting to pick up. Your hand moves over on top of his hand, letting it go further down to your core. Buggy hisses at the contact, feeling the hot sensation between your legs. He knows with it being a very obvious public area to be doing this, keeping your voices down to a minute is pinnacle to not being caught.

His tongue licks your cheek before hips lips make a connection, making it a wet kiss. His words speak to you with reassurance, "You sure you wanna do this doll?" He wants to make sure you are okay with this, since you both have never done something like this so scandalous.

You nod your head, wanting buggy to continue with his hand downwards. "Yes I want it, fuck-", you whine to him merely just above a whisper.

He can feel your thighs quiver underneath his touch, he knows you're just dripping with anticipation.

He chuckles at that, it's dark and hot. He detaches his hands underneath the table, one hand now cupping your core in his grasp, the other grabbing his phone out of his pocket. With how you both were positioned, no one could tell what you two were doing thanks to the drapes covered over the table.

He quickly unlocks his phone and opens up his camera, now videoing the performance that was gonna happen between your legs.

The hand cupping your core, started moving aside the cute skirt you wore that day, revealing your red panties with a damp wet spot evident on it. His hand moves the pantie to the side, showing off your puffy lips to the camera view.

With the place being so loud and busy, the video could only pick up the surrounding area, not hearing the sinful huffs and low moans you were making, Buggy was grinning ear to ear at this revelation, seeing you melt in his grasp like this so much. He was enjoying it.

His pinkie and ring finger hold onto your pantie, letting your middle and index finger do the work, rolling your clit around in-between both fingers -his middle then going up and down your clit, putting pressure on it which makes your inner thighs shake.

You leaned your head in your hands on the table, holding your forehead as you tried to control your breathing and voice so no one could hear, but the sensation was starting to become too much to handle.

Buggy could feel his fingers start to be coated by your slick. He rearranged his fingers so now his pinkie and index were holding onto your pantie, letting his middle and ring finger enter into your pussy slowly but surely.

Buggy sees your body release tension, your mouth becoming agaped before quickly being closed by your hand. Your eyes shuttered to stay open as you felt Buggy's fingers go in and out of you, slowly but surely, pulling out just slightly to show the camera how wet his fingers were becoming just from that one insert alone, he couldn't believe it.

Buggys hard on was pressing against his pants, making him groan at the tension. He leans his head into the crook of your neck, biting so slightly, his eyes darting around the area to make sure no one is looking as he spoke to you.

"Fuck you feel good baby, keep it up like this and I might just have to put this cock in your pussy"

🌹It's suffice to say that you ending up cumming underneath that table, covering his camera in your release

💠Speaking of releasing onto cameras. His signature move is cuming on his phone after you blow him, so the audience gets a very up close experience. The amount of times he's had to deep clean his phone is unbelievable. It's gross yes, but God does it somehow turn him on after he does it

🌹After that day, public sex and semi public sex has been a favorite tag on your guys page. It didn't take long for Buggy to change the name of your guys page either to clowns-clowning-around, which was very appropriate for what you two were doing

💠You guys have videos where it's nice, semi and sweet where its in your shared bed and living room. Others its in a public restroom, letting the noise you guys make echo across the room

🌹And don't get this guy started on when you blow him, it gets him riled up

- (Male Reader Addition) Buggy's phone was placed on the edge of the night stand, showing the sides of your cheek hollowed out before being filled with Buggy's cock being deep throated by you.

Buggy's hand placed on his bare hip, his other caressing your scalp, curling his fingers feeling your tongue swirl around his tip.

His eyes felt cloudy, his breathing became heavy, the sweat forming on his forehead started to drip down the side of his cheeks. His muscles shivering at the sensation his body was feeling, the way you were making him feel was beyond comprehensive.

His gaze shifted to look down below him. Your eyes were looking up at him with narrowed eyes, getting into the movement of sucking him off. He can see your hand in between your legs, your hand wrapped around your cock. The motion going up and down.

Buggy hisses through his teeth at the sight, your lips round around his cock, slick and wet from the pre cum and saliva. Your thumb putting pressure on your tip, closing your eyes in response.

He can see your body shiver in effect, he can tell you were close to cuming just like him. His hand on your scalp started to tighten, pushing your head forward into his hips more, making you take his cock hole. He threw his head back once your nose was right up against his public hear, feeling your breathing on it. Cold against his hot skin, almost sending shockwaves to his cock.

Your hand motion started going faster, your other hand gripped his hairy thigh, trying to hold yourself up so he could finish first. But the overall feeling, emotion you felt, your mouth being full and your hand speeding up coated in your click and pre cum, it was becoming too much.

It didn't take long for Buggy to say fuck it, and grip the sides of your head and start thrusting his hips into your mouth, his balls slapping against your chin.

The room was filled with the smell of sex and the heat of the tension, the sound being taken over by gagging noises and balls slapping against skin.

Your hands moved to grip his thighs, trying to keep the monument up and up with Buggy himself. Your body being overwhelmed went down to your cock, cum spewing out of your tip, your cum splattered across the flooring and underneath your tip.

Buggy could see you wither underneath him, coming undone. Buggy groaned, pulling your mouth off of his cock with a loud pop, salvia and pre cum linked to your lips to his tip, the flash of the camera outlining the slick like it was water.

Buggy caressed your scalp against his thigh, reassuring you through actions as he ejaculated right onto the camera, his cum spraying everywhere on it and over it.

He could edit the video later, but now his focus was on you. His hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs moving in circular motions as you looked up at him, now your eyes clouded with love and sex.

Buggy leaned down and pressed a kiss on your sweaty forehead, speaking softly as he spoke. "Good Boy. Cuming for me so good like that. Come on, let's get you cleaned up"

💠Buggy doesn't like using your voices in the videos, in fear that someone would identify the both of you from that, so he keeps it to a minimum with the degradation and praises when you guys do decide to film yourselves

🌹He never thought that this side hustle of a business would turn out something much more greater for the both of you. Letting you guys explore more of yourselves while you and others can enjoy it, it was all arousing but endearing at the same time, plus you guys were making big bucks from these videos

💠Overall, Buggy would be a modern pornstar on the side if he truly wanted to. And if you are willing and comfortable with joining him on this ride, then be his guest, cause he sure does love having one in his videos~

#onyx writings 🌹#buggy #one piece #one piece buggy #buggy the clown #buggy x you #buggy x reader #buggy x female reader #buggy x male reader #buggy the clown x you #buggy the clown x reader #x reader #buggy smut #n/sfw #n/s/f/w #buggy headcanons

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