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#Which I don't have any real control over

jonnywaistcoat · 2 months

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Did you make Needles for the atrocious amount of Michael Shelly stans out there (a group in which I can be counted) or were the similar vibes just a happy little accident?

Neither, really - sometimes you just gotta write a nasty sharp man, then part if your brain goes "the shellyfellas are gonna love this" and another part goes "is that a problem?" and the first part goes "no, just sayin" and then you go make a cup of tea.

#tbf I think a lot of the Michael vibes are from the VAs excellent performance #Which I don't have any real control over #But also #Stabby boys be stabbin

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homo-house · 6 months

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hey uh so I haven't seen anyone talking about this here yet, but

the amazon river, like the biggest river in the fucking world, in the middle of the amazon fucking rainforest, is currently going through its worst drought since the records began 121 years ago

picture from Folha PE

there's a lot going on but I haven't seen much international buzz around this like there was when the forest was on fire (maybe because it's harder to shift the narrative to blame brazil exclusively as if the rest of the world didn't have fault in this) so I wanted to bring this to tumblr's attention

I don't know too many details as I live in the other side of the country and we are suffering from the exact opposite (at least three cyclones this year, honestly have stopped counting - it's unusual for us to get hit by even one - floods, landslides, we have a death toll, people are losing everything to the water), but like, I as a brazilian have literally never seen pictures of the river like this before. every single city in the amazonas state is in a state of emergency as of november 1st.

pictures by Adriano Liziero (ig: geopanoramas)

we are used to seeing images of rio negro and solimões, the two main amazon river affluents, in all their grandiose and beauty and seeing these pictures is really fucking chilling. some of our news outlets are saying the solimões has turned to a sand desert... can you imagine this watery sight turning into a desert in the span of a year?

while down south we are seeing amounts of rain and hailstorms the likes of which our infrastructure is simply not built to deal with, up north people who have built everything around the river are at a loss of what to do.

the houses there that are built to float are just on the ground, people who depend on fishing for a living have to walk kilometers to find any fish that are still alive at all, the biodiversity there is at risk, and on an economic level it's hard to grasp how people from the northern states are getting by at all - the main means of transport for ANYTHING in that region is via the river water. this will impact the region for months to come. it doesnt make a lot of sense to build a lot of roads bc it's just better to use the waterway system, everything is built around or floats on the river after all. and like, the water level is so incomprehensibly low the boats are just STUCK. people are having a hard time getting from one place to another - keep in mind the widest parts of the river are over 10 km apart!!

this shit is really serious and i am trying not to think about it because we have a different kind of problem to worry about down south but it's really terrifying when I stop to think about it. you already know the climate crisis is real and the effects are beyond preventable now (we're past global warming, get used to calling it "global boiling"). we'll be switching strategies to damage control from now on and like, this is what it's come to.

I don't like to be alarmist but it's hard not to be alarmed. I'm sorry that I can't end this post with very clear intructions on how people overseas can help, there really isn't much to do except hope the water level rises soon, maybe pray if you believe in something. in that regard we just have to keep pressing for change at a global level; local conditions only would not, COULD NOT be causing this - the amazon river is a CONTINENTAL body of water, it spans across multiple countries. so my advice is spread the word, let your representatives know that you're worried and you want change towards sustainability, degrowth and reduced carbon emissions, support your local NGOs, maybe join a cause, I don't know? I recommend reading on ecological and feminist economics though

however, I know you can help the affected riverine families by donating to organizations dedicated to helping the region. keep in mind a single US dollar, pound or euro is worth over 5x more in our currency so anything you donate at all will certainly help those affected.

FAS - Sustainable Amazon Fundation

Idesam - Sustainable Developent and Preservation Institute of Amazonas

Greenpeace Brasil - I know Greenpeace isn't the best but they're one of the few options I can think of that have a bridge to the international world and they are helping directly

There are a lot of other smaller/local NGOs but I'm not sure how you could donate to them from overseas, I'll leave some of them here anyway:

Projeto Gari

Caritás Brasileira

If you know any other organizations please link them, I'll be sure to reblog though my reach isn't a lot

thank you so much for reading this to the end, don't feel obligated to share but please do if you can! even if you just read up to here it means a lot to me that someone out there knows

also as an afterthought, I wanted to expand on why I think this hasn't made big news yet: because unlike the case of the 2020 forest fires, other countries have to hold themselves accountable when looking at this situation. while in 2020 it was easier to pretend the fires were all our fault and people were talking about taking the amazon away from us like they wouldn't do much worse. global superpowers have no more forests to speak of so I guess they've been eyeing what latin america still has. so like this bit of the post is just to say if you're thinking of saying anything of the sort, maybe think of what your own country has done to contribute to this instead of blaming brazil exclusively and saying the amazon should be protected by force or whatever

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alilarew23 · 4 months

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it is so easy to shift your state - let's practice!

ok beloveds.

it is tiiiiiiiime for a little exercise.

i want you to imagine real quick what it would be like to truly be a master at manifestation. yes i know we know we are all masters because we are always manifesting but! i mean a master at conscious manifestation. like, you ALWAYS get exactly what you want in the quickest and easiest way possible no matter what. you just imagine something, decide what you're going to experience next, and boom, it shows up. faster than fast. ayeeee, you did that.

ok, so now that you ARE that person, what's your experience like? what's your way of being within yourself, within the world? you're probably super fucking relaxed, even playful. you probably never worry about anything at all because what would there be to worry about when you know you always get what you want? you probably hardly expend any mental energy on your "desires" because the second you desire something you just--beep boop--claim it as yours and, well, now that's taken care of! you're probably the most present and loving person anyone has ever known. you probably have everyone around you not-so-jokingly asking you to manifest for them (iykyk). you probably feel like god. but not god who's desperately trying to assert some kind of control over a supposed-"outer" world. no. god who knows I AM the world. I AM all. how fun.

how fun indeed, that you just shifted your (drum roll please) state of being!

did that feel good? did you like being that person?

all that took place in your imagination.

you went from being an imaginal self who was maybe stressing about manifestation, watching too many tiktok vids and reading too many twitter threads, affirming affirming affirming but at what cost, to being an imaginal self who--in an instant--already had it all. and therefore could just kick it and watch a show or eat some tacos or go candlepin bowling (my new obsession) without stressing at all.

if that felt good, why not practice being that person? by which i mean consciously choosing to embody that identity until it's so natural that it no longer needs to be a conscious decision because you simply ARE it.

don't attach anything to this. just try the state on as if it's a new hoodie and see how it feels, and if you like it--you prob will, it's pretty snuggly in here!--well, keep wearing it.

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reasonsforhope · 9 months

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"A team of researchers at Washington University in St. Louis has developed a real-time air monitor that can detect any of the SARS-CoV-2 virus variants that are present in a room in about 5 minutes.

The proof-of-concept device was created by researchers from the McKelvey School of Engineering and the School of Medicine at Washington University...

The results are contained in a July 10 publication in Nature Communications that provides details about how the technology works.

The device holds promise as a breakthrough that - when commercially available - could be used in hospitals and health care facilities, schools, congregate living quarters, and other public places to help detect not only the SARS-CoV-2 virus, but other respiratory virus aerosol such as influenza and respiratory syncytial virus (RSV) as well.

“There is nothing at the moment that tells us how safe a room is,” Cirrito said, in the university’s news release. “If you are in a room with 100 people, you don’t want to find out five days later whether you could be sick or not. The idea with this device is that you can know essentially in real time, or every 5 minutes, if there is a live virus in the air.”

How It Works

The team combined expertise in biosensing with knowhow in designing instruments that measure the toxicity of air. The resulting device is an air sampler that operates based on what’s called “wet cyclone technology.” Air is sucked into the sampler at very high speeds and is then mixed centrifugally with a fluid containing a nanobody that recognizes the spike protein from the SARS-CoV-2 virus. That fluid, which lines the walls of the sampler, creates a surface vortex that traps the virus aerosols. The wet cyclone sampler has a pump that collects the fluid and sends it to the biosensor for detection of the virus using electrochemistry.

The success of the instrument is linked to the extremely high velocity it generates - the monitor has a flow rate of about 1,000 liters per minute - allowing it to sample a much larger volume of air over a 5-minute collection period than what is possible with currently available commercial samplers. It’s also compact - about one foot wide and 10 inches tall - and lights up when a virus is detected, alerting users to increase airflow or circulation in the room.

Testing the Monitor

To test the monitor, the team placed it in the apartments of two Covid-positive patients. The real-time air samples from the bedrooms were then compared with air samples collected from a virus-free control room. The device detected the RNA of the virus in the air samples from the bedrooms but did not detect any in the control air samples.

In laboratory experiments that aerosolized SARS-CoV-2 into a room-sized chamber, the wet cyclone and biosensor were able to detect varying levels of airborne virus concentrations after only a few minutes of sampling, according to the study.

“We are starting with SARS-CoV-2, but there are plans to also measure influenza, RSV, rhinovirus and other top pathogens that routinely infect people,” Cirrito said. “In a hospital setting, the monitor could be used to measure for staph or strep, which cause all kinds of complications for patients. This could really have a major impact on people’s health.”

The Washington University team is now working to commercialize the air quality monitor."

-via Forbes, July 11, 2023

Holy shit. I know it's still early in the technology and more testing will inevitably be needed but holy shit.

Literally, if it bears out, this could revolutionize medicine. And maybe let immunocompromised people fucking go places again

Also, for those who don't know, Nature Communications is a very prestigious scientific journal that focuses on Pretty Big Deal research. Their review process is incredibly rigorous. This is an absolutely HUGE credibility boost to this research and prototype

#covid #covid 19 #pandemic #plague #rsv #influenza #the flu #science and technology #medical research #medical technology #biochemistry #immunology #good news #hope #hope posting

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boxingcleverrr · 5 months

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Popular Hades & Persephone "retellings" are, rightly, getting dunked on all over the socials right now and, as a Pagan who has an altar to the Queen, I could not be happier. But also, I feel like a lot of people miss WHY they're bad - aside from just plain bad writing and lazy tropes. Which are, yeah, also REALLY bad.

Pretty much all retellings try to wave away, or excuse, or twist the whole kidnapping bit. And I actually do have sympathy and understanding for why, when speaking from a modern perspective.

But honestly...you gotta get over it. There are other stories to play fix-it with, not this one.

The Abduction is The Thing.

Were I a little more sober I could bring up chapter and verse of the Hymn to Demeter but frankly, if you know even the middle school mythology curriculum version of the story, you SHOULD know the themes. The story of Persephone was one mothers and daughters in the ancient world held dear, because it was a reality: you will, one day, be swept away from your home to go cleave to a man you most likely know nothing about. You will miss your mother, but chances are very good that he will be a good husband, once you get to know him, certainly better than Zeus or Ares, and he will make you a queen of his home.

Leaving home to marry was often scary, and violent (look up the history of the tradition of Bridesmaids, if you don't already know it - they were originally decoys on the marriage road). Centuries later we'd have tales like Beauty & The Beast serving the same function: comfort, hope, you are leaving your safe loving home to figure life out with a (often older, powerful) stranger. Your trauma over this sudden ending of your childhood made manifest in a Beast, or a God of The Underworld.

It's wonderful that we don't NEED stories like this anymore to comfort us (here, at least, in this culture). But if you try to force them into modern vernacular it just will not work, not really, because you're gutting out the whole point just to have a more tidy romantic male hero.

I have read MANY very good ...novelizations? fanfic(? however you would frame them, but they're certainly not "retellings"), etc. that simply take advantage of the blank spaces in the myth, and there are many!

It's not explicit that sexual assault happens - "The Rape of Persephone" as a title was coined in much earlier eras, when the word was just as often used to simply refer to abduction.

"She was starving!" the gods didn't need to eat. So it's easy to read her eating the Pom seeds as a deliberate choice on her part. Like, shit, people, scholars have written whole papers on the symbolism of this moment, between marriage rites and even yeah, Seph choosing both worlds with her husband's knowing consent.

And that, I think, is the real heart of the thing. People want an utterly mundane, spelled-out story here, as opposed to what it really is, has always been, just like any other myth or religious parable: IT'S A METAPHOOOOOOR.

They don't need to be destined, or meet at a goddamned BALL and then CONSPIRE to fake her kidnapping, or shit, I once saw one where Hades got MIND CONTROLLED by Zeus?! Jesus.

Persephone was yoinked into the Underworld against her will.

That's how it went.

I don't mean this in a "stay out of my belief system!" way, shit I'm a white American chick with delusions of witchery. I mean this in a "stop stressing yourself out trying to make things palatable" way:

This is a very real, very precious myth to many people, BECAUSE for at least that one event, Persephone had no autonomy, BECAUSE for thousands of years most women had no autonomy. Erasing that, sanitizing the fact that a girl is ripped out of the spring, from her mother's arms, is erasing the thing that gave comfort to women for centuries. And people can and should still find power and healing in it now!

Fill in the blanks the story leaves in whatever manner seems fit to you, there's plenty of room, but. Come the fuck on.

#blathering #truly had a ramble bubbling for weeks #just pagan things

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inkskinned · 1 year

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i love my therapist but i hate being in therapy. 10 minutes before my appointment, i'm in a meeting with my boss - we discuss my artistic choices; my boss recommends i artistically choose less. 10 minutes after therapy, i wash my hair and think about everything that was said, and then i have to switch it off, like a lamp, and go back to work again.

i was on a walk the other day and someone had the perfect combination of his cologne and whatever-else. it was almost exactly his scent. i fucking hate that. after all these years, i remember that? i tell my therapist - i feel like a fucking wolf. try telling a middle-aged blonde lady. oh i scented him on the air. i'm 30, and i'm having a panic attack over something that would be a plotline in the omegaverse.

what they don't tell you about mental illness is that if you are lucky enough to survive it into adulthood; it becomes a weird slice of your life. because you do, eventually, have to build a life. i realized in a panic somewhere around 22 - oh. i don't know what i'm fucking doing, because i always assumed i'd just go ahead and die. i didn't die, and i'm grateful for that, and i'm very happy about that choice. but it does mean that i am an adult in an apartment, living with my conditions side-by-side like. oh, that's my roommate, adhd. ignore the glass, bytheway, that's ocd.

so you pick your stupid life up by the scruff of the neck and you're, like glad for it (so much laughter and light and friends you would have never thought possible, when you were in the worst of it). but it feels so strange to be dancing around these odd little microcosms, these patchwork moments of your symptoms. if you have a panic attack at night, you still need to wake up and walk the dog in the morning. if your depression is making everything boring, well, you don't have any sick days left, and a job's not really supposed to be that exciting anyway. your ocd tears out each individual leg hair, and then, an hour later, you sigh, patch up the bloody bits, and go get dinner with friends. and the life is kitten-quiet, mewling and pathetic, but it's also like - it's yours, so you're fond of it.

and it's like - you're real. so you still enjoy pushing the shopping cart really fast and then riding on the back of it down an empty aisle. and you're not, like, so sick anymore that when you accidentally drop a mug you burst into tears (except for the days you do that. which are bad). and no, you're not allowed around certain items anymore. oops! but you've learned to be good about brushing your teeth most days of the week. and yeah sometimes in the middle of the day you have a little freak-out about how fucking unfair it all is, how fucking hard, how other people can just do this without having to fucking hurt the whole time. and then you sigh and force yourself to sit down and fucking journal about it so you can tell the nice middle-aged blonde woman yeah i had a hard day but i practiced grounding. you still sometimes want to burst out of your own skin, but you force yourself to eat kind-of healthy and to take your vitamins. you let yourself chop off all your hair in the sink in a dramatic poetry of control and relief - and you also have developed good hobbies that help you move your body more frequently. you feel helplessly behind, lost in the shuffle - but you also practice gratitude, taking stock of what you have garnered. because you're trying. even if you're never gonna be normal, you have something... close enough.

and the little kitten of your life, this mangy, starlit tigercub, this thing you expected to rot so young: in your arms, it turns itself over, belly-up. exposing this new soft part, all the organs and guts. like it's saying i trust you now. you won't give me up.

#does this even MAKE SENSE!!!!!#writeblr #btw what im trying to express in that first sentence is EXPLICITLY the feeling of logging off therapy to immediately go back to work #like :) haha!

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narumi-gens · 3 months

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boundaries gojo satoru x f!reader

post-breakup!gojo who can't quite follow through on the breaking up. he's as present in your life after he ended things as he was when you were still dating.

he still blows up your phone at all hours with nothing important. he insists on holding your hand when you walk side-by-side. he still uses your apartment key, which you never had the heart to ask for him to return. you've ended up in more than one heated makeout session with him, although you have managed to keep them from progressing past him feeling up your tits over your bra.

and when you end up in the hospital after a mission, he shows up before even shoko can get there. you sigh when his towering form appears in the doorway of the room you've been given.

"looks worse than it is," you say and despite the way you slur your words due to the painkillers, it's true.

your concussion, while serious, isn't something that wouldn't heal on its own. your broken ribs managed to avoid puncturing any organs. even the burst blood vessel in your left eye that's colored the white of your eye a ghastly red is only really a surface-level injury.

but for once, the man who never shuts up stays silent as he pulls a chair close and sits at your bedside. he reaches for your hand but pauses when you wince at the pressure on the two fingers that are fractured and wrapped in a splint. instead, he settles for loosely holding onto your wrist.

"shoko's gonna fix it all anyways," you tell him through a yawn, your eyelids feeling heavy. "'sides, you shouldn't even be here. boundaries, satoru. 'member?"

it's a word that you've tossed in his face so many times since the breakup that it's lost all meaning. and it doesn't help that you've never managed to say it with any sort of real weight. instead, it usually comes out on the end of a resigned sigh.

you can feel his gaze on you even through his dumb sunglasses. normally, even post-breakup, you would reach out and pull them down his nose to meet those cursed eyes of his and make some joke. but with your brain working at a diminished capacity and your arm hooked up to an IV full of the best painkillers japan's doctors have to offer, all you can do is slowly blink at him in return.

"it's always boundaries this, boundaries that with you," he finally retorts with a shake of his head, but offers nothing else.

"'f you didn't want boundaries then you shouldn't've ended things, y'big dummy," you mumble, and no longer able to keep your eyes open, you finally let them close.

"I told you. I don't have room in my life for anyone else – i.e., you," he replies bluntly and you can feel the fit of giggles that you want to burst into, but all you can manage is a soft huff of laughter.

"liar," you say with a sleepy smile stretching across your lips. "can't even be honest when I'm strung out on painkillers. psh. lame."

it takes monumental effort, but you manage to crack open an eye so that you can see him sporting his own cheeky grin.

silence settles over you both and you feel yourself slowly beginning to fall into the blackness as your breathing slows. the soothing sensation of gojo's thumb rubbing circles on the skin of your wrist only aids in pushing you closer and closer to sleep.

"you were considered a suitable match." even on the edge of consciousness, the disgust in his tone at those two words reaches you. "I couldn't let them get what they wanted."

you let out a quiet hum in acknowledgment and wish you had enough strength to open your eyes, curious to see if he's surprised you weren't fully asleep yet.

"still letting 'em control you, hm? s'good we broke up. want someone who's only tied down by me," you mumble.

"baby, if you want to tie me down, all you had to do was say so," he jokingly responds, unsurprisingly choosing to sidestep the gravity of your words, no matter how slurred they were.

"boundaries, 'toru..." you trail off as you finally succumb to sleep.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk angst #gojo satoru angst #it’s more angst-adjacent #mel writes #boundaries

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sundrop-writes · 1 month

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Careful - Chapter Three

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter Three: Turn It Off

Before it gets any better - we're headed for a cliff.

Summary:

Spencer finally gets to see his son for the first time, and there is absolutely no denying - that is his son.

Caught up in a whirlwind of love for the boy and navigating the first small steps in co-parenting with you, he accidentally trips into a minefield from the past when discussing Sebastian's conception, and you both realize with baited breath that you might not be over each other.

(Especially not when that lust still burns so close to the surface.)

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst, Fluff, and Smut.

Word Count: 13,400

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: basic warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing; mentions of the reader being the target of a serial killer; angst/emotional tension between Spencer and the reader; (technically) Spencer being unprofessional by staying on the reader’s case; Sebastian is described to be a combination of the reader and Spencer’s looks, so this does not describe or exclude the reader’s looks/race; the bulk of this chapter is fluff because Spencer is bonding with Sebastian for the first time; most of the warnings for this chapter are because of the smut scene (which is a flashback to Sebastian’s (unintentional) conception) - so warning for smut; (kind of) phone sex; mentions of the reader masturbating; (Spencer calls the reader and she’s touching herself and he realizes it, but there’s not any real dirty talk in this section); the reader calls Spencer ‘baby’; Spencer calls the reader ‘darling’; mention of Spencer feeling emotionally worn down from looking at casefiles; unprotected penis in vagina sex (though Spencer is unsure if the reader is taking oral birth control consistently or not); there is a lack of communication about alternative birth control methods aside from condoms (like plan B and oral birth control) - but both partners enthusiastically consent to having unprotected sex in that moment, knowing the potential risks; creampie kink (not quite breeding kink?); mentions of Spencer eating out the reader after cumming inside of her; there is a scene with a lot of sexual tension between Spencer and the reader in the main timeline. Other than that - Morgan teasing Spencer? (and then having a serious moment with him). And I think that’s it.

A/N: This is by far the longest chapter - I don't know the official length of the final chapter yet, but this might be the longest chapter in the series. It was a bitch to edit, but I hope you guys enjoy it! Especially because I know a lot of people have been anticipating Spencer meeting Sebastian for the first time, and this is the big moment. I'm not gonna lie, when I was writing the first bits of this fic, I rushed to write the moment where Spencer meets Sebastian - and it gave me chills to write it. So I really hope that you guys enjoy it, and you enjoy the sweet moments in this fic, as well as the more saucy ones lmao.

...

Spencer churned with nerves as he walked back up to the house, two gift bags clutched in his shaking hand.

He had walked around the mall for a long time - partial aimless wandering, partial sweaty anxiety causing his feet to move along rapidly. He felt like everything he looked at was not the right gift to apologize to you with after so long. He felt like it needed to be perfect.

After about an hour of wandering, Hotch called him and tore him a new one. Apparently JJ had pulled him aside and explained the delicate nature of his situation privately. Hotch knew how dangerous it was to get so personal and emotional when it came to things like this, and he wanted Spencer back at the police station and far away from you. He said that if you needed protective custody, then he would put Morgan or Prentiss in charge of it.

Spencer didn’t care if it was unprofessional. He begged to stay on the case, to stay with you and watch over you. Apparently you were the only viable lead - with the flowers that had been sent to you, you were the only potential next victim.

After a while of back and forth, Hotch folded.

He sent an unmarked car to watch over your house, and told Spencer to hurry up and get back there. He needed to try and convince you to agree to around the clock protection. At the very least, if Spencer was in the house when the UnSub tried to break in, he could catch him in the act.

The rest of the team tried to farm other leads. They went through the other victims’ lives to see if anybody connected to them had any connection to the firm that handled the preschool applications, if any of their neighbors remembered anybody suspicious lurking around their homes in the days before the murders.

Spencer spent another hour rushing around the shopping center before he found the perfect gifts for you and your son - his son. (He really, really hoped that he was right about that.)

He picked up a couple of gift bags - one with a brightly colored pattern of teddy bears eating birthday cake and the other with a more mature pattern of soft roses. He put the gifts inside and rushed to get back to the house before Hotch called him again.

And now that he was standing on the porch, facing down your door again, he almost couldn’t work up the ability to knock.

But he knew that he had to face the inevitable.

He reached out and gave three firm knocks once again.

This time, what he heard surprised him.

A loud, squealing giggle, and a round of thunderous footsteps across the floor, slightly muffled by the door. Clearly - the sound of a young child.

Spencer’s blood rushed through his body like a tidal wave and he found himself dizzy as he stared at the white panels of your front door, anticipation thumping through him. After a tedious moment that felt like four long years, the doorknob slowly turned, and the door creaked open.

Peeking out of the crack - a big, curious eye, and half a chubby cheek poked out at him.

Your son had answered the door by himself.

Spencer swallowed down nerves as he prepared himself to meet Sebastian for the first time.

Upon instinct, Spencer crouched down lowly on the balls of his feet, getting down onto the child’s level.

“Hey, buddy.” He said, using a light voice, trying to be as non-intimidating as possible. “Where’s your Mommy?”

Mommy.

It felt so strange - using that word to refer to you. But yes, you were his mother.

You were a mother.

That fact truly hit Spencer like a truck in that moment.

Unexpectedly, Sebastian then flung the door open fully. It seemed that he had fully assessed Spencer, and deemed him as someone friendly, rather than some kind of threat.

A large knot formed in Spencer’s stomach then, as he saw his son for the first time. Because in that moment, there was no denying - this was his son.

He saw his own big eyes staring back at him, reflecting the same epic curiosity that he had at that age. He had your complexion, most definitely your same skin tone. The boy had your sweet smile, your cute nose. Spencer ached as he realized that Sebastian was quite literally the perfect combination of the two of you. His own wild, untamable tendrils (hair that clearly hadn’t been cut for a while) with tones of your natural color in it - your sweetness, your laughter.

Spencer used all of his self control in that moment to keep himself from fainting on the spot.

“Who are you?” Sebastian asked, tilting his head slightly, inspecting Spencer with a distinct up-and-down glance. “Are you the police? Mommy’s talking on the phone. She said the police are coming to our house. But she didn’t like that. Her face made a big frown - like when that man at the grocery store asked if she’s ‘free’ on Friday. And I said: you can’t buy Mommy, she doesn’t have a price. You can’t buy people. You buy bananas. That’s why we came to the grocery store, pal!”

Spencer frowned.

This was a lot of information to receive in such a short span, and Spencer quickly tried to sort it all out in his mind.

Technically, he was ‘the police’, but he didn’t want to introduce himself to Sebastian that way if it would bring a negative connotation. Clearly, this was a very observant child - he had picked up on the fact that you didn’t want police protective custody around. (Spencer just hoped that you hadn’t mentioned why you might need that kind of protection around the very clever ears of your son - someone who had interpreted a man asking you on a date as a barter for ownership of your person, apparently.)

Not wanting to upset Sebastian, he chose to introduce himself in another way, rather than saying he was with law enforcement - which is what he would have done with any other small child.

“I’m a friend of your Mommy’s.” He said. “My name is Spencer. Can you-”

Before he could finish talking, your voice entered the conversation.

“Sebastian! Seb!” You called out urgently, looking for him now that you had realized he was gone from your field of view.

You came around the corner in a panic and found your son standing there with the front door wide open. Your eyes naturally flickered toward Spencer, and surprisingly, a look of relief flooded your face at seeing him.

As much as you disliked Spencer for your own reasons - at least someone who wasn’t a predator was with your son. You hadn’t meant to leave the door unlocked. It was just easy to forget things when you were chasing after such an energetic kid.

“Sebastian, Mommy told you not to open the door unless I’m here with you.”

You scolded him, rushing to scoop him up in your arms - unconsciously protecting him from the outside world as you propped him up onto your hip, hugging an arm around his back to hold him there.

Spencer’s insides fluttered at how natural you looked with him in your arms. It was a picture perfect sight: you with his son in your arms. It was something he had been dreaming of for years. And now, for so many reasons, it left a sour taste in his mouth.

“Spencer is my friend!” Sebastian proudly proclaimed, motioning toward his very new ‘friend’. “You said it’s okay to answer the door for friends.”

You clenched your jaw, clearly resisting the urge to make a foul comment about this in front of your son. You wanted to correct him and say that Spencer was not a ‘friend’ - that he was far from it. But you held that back, knowing that Sebastian was too young and innocent to be stung by your anger. (Especially anger from a fight that was older than he was.)

Before you could speak further or insist that Spencer had to leave, Sebastian spoke up again.

“What’s in that bag?” He asked, extending his little arm and pointing a pudgy little finger toward the gift bags that Spencer had in his hand - items that Spencer himself had nearly forgotten about, swept up in pure awe at meeting his son for the first time.

“Oh, it’s a gift for you.” Spencer smiled at him, holding one of the bags up toward the boy. “Because I missed your birthday.”

Sebastian took the bag excitedly, but didn’t get a chance to examine the items yet, still awkwardly trapped in his mother’s arms.

You glared at Spencer over Sebastian’s head. You thought it was a cheap attempt at buying his affection. Spencer avoided your eye. (If you were a lesser woman, you would have banned Sebastian from having the gift. But you weren’t going to take away his joy based on your own rotting emotions.)

“What do you say, bud?” You prompted, wanting him to thank Spencer for the gift - even if you thought it was ill-intended.

“I’m four now!” He excitedly announced, believing this was what you meant. “I just turned four. I had a big boy birthday. So I go to the toilet all by myself - as long as I don’t wee on the floor. And I had a princess at my birthday party, but apparently she doesn’t bring the letters to Santa Claus, the mail does that. Did you know that the U.S. Postal Service was founded in 1775, and Benjamin Franklin was the first postmaster-”

“Seb, that’s not what I meant.” You said quietly, gently cutting off his unrelated string of ranting.

Spencer was grinning widely from ear to ear - he found himself so utterly charmed by Sebastian’s bright, enthusiastic personality.

“Sebastian, you have to say ‘thank you’ to Spencer for the present.” You reminded him, getting his mind back on track.

“Thank you!” He parroted back.

“You’re very welcome.” Spencer replied, his cheeks hurting from how hard he was smiling.

You then put him down, and he ran back into the house, excited to open his gift and see what was inside it.

A tense silence fell over you and Spencer. You continued to glare at him with fury tightening in your jaw. Any joy he previously felt over seeing Sebastian for the first time was completely zapped from him.

He now felt like a groveling idiot, desperate to get back into your good graces. He felt like the picture perfect life with a perfect family was right there, and he was missing out on it because he had messed up all those years ago.

“That was a nice try. With the gift.” You huffed out. “I don’t even wanna know what’s in that one.” You said, motioning to the other bag.

“Y/N-” He said your name, ripe with desperation, and you cut him off again.

“When did you know?” You asked.

The question utterly confused Spencer, and when you saw this flash through his features, you took pity on him for once, and decided to clarify.

“When did you know that he was yours?” You said this lowly, edging on a whisper, not wanting your son to hear it - even though he likely wouldn’t understand what the words meant if he did. (But he was an observant, smart kid. You couldn’t risk him hearing either way.)

“I did the math.” Spencer told you, matching your whisper. “I knew for certain when I saw him.”

You let out a rugged sigh. With your tense body language, your tight jaw - Spencer feared that even now, you might ask him to leave.

For him, that simply wasn’t an option.

“Look, you can’t keep me from my son-” Spencer said, speaking normally now - he knew that eventually, the two of you would have to tell Sebastian that he was his father.

He wanted a relationship with his child no matter what.

“Keep your voice down!” You hissed, looking over your shoulder as if the small child was some boogeyman who would sneak up on you specifically to eavesdrop on the conversation.

From the distant sounds of giggling and some playful voices - it sounded like he was far too busy playing with his toys to care about what was going on between you and Spencer.

“This changes nothing.” You added on bitterly. “You still have no right to be around me after what happened, and-”

“You’re seriously telling me that this changes nothing?” Spencer barked back, intensely offended by that assessment.

You refused to look Spencer in the eye, and he barreled forward, believing that he could convince his way in the door with his stubbornness alone.

“He is my son.” He spit back sharply, so much passion in the words that it gave you chills. “He is a part of me as much as he is a part of you. Even if - even if you hate me,” Spencer said, unsure if that was the right term, and feeling a rock in his stomach when you didn’t protest. “Even if you hate me now and always will, I still have a right to be in his life.”

Guilt flashed across your features. You had always regretted not contacting Spencer in order to let him meet Sebastian. And now all of those late night ‘what ifs’ were coming back to haunt you. With a vengeance.

“And I know you might not view it that way, but it’s been a long time. And I have changed.” He continued on, trying his best to convince you, knowing that these words were hollow.

Spencer didn’t even think about the potential consequences of his next words before he spoke them, but he went on anyway.

“And I would really, really like a second chance with you. I understand if you and I are over. If everything we had is completely… gone.”

Your eyes flickered toward him at this, a dreadful ghost lingering in the back of your pupils. This was the last thing you had expected to hear from him, and you had a difficult time processing it.

His tone was incredibly mournful when speaking these words. He still had so much love for you in his heart, and he could not imagine being around you and interacting with you to co-parent a child and not being with you. Not sharing your bed. Not having more children with you.

“But you and I at least need to be civil, for his sake. Tell me that he really would be better off without both parents in his life.”

Spencer resisted the urge to cite statistics about single parent households and the likelihood of forming antisocial personality disorders - mostly because he didn’t want to think of his son like that, and because you being a single parent household was the entire reason he was here.

He didn’t want to bring up the UnSub again, and the potential danger you might be in - because he didn’t want you to brush him off or get even more angry.

You looked intensely thoughtful, then, clearly mulling over his words in your mind.

He thought that something else might sway your opinion in his favor.

“Plus, if you don’t let me inside, that means I got you this gift for nothing.” He said, giving you his absolute best puppy eyes as he held up the bag in your direction.

You rolled your eyes with a huff, but you took it from him anyway.

“Don’t think you can bribe your way back into my good graces, Spencer.” You said, accepting the bag, and then:

You stepped aside and let him in.

Spencer didn’t waste a moment, gratefully accepting this. He took off his messenger bag and set it beside the door as you closed it behind him. You made a point of locking it this time, putting the deadbolt on so that Sebastian wouldn’t be able to get the door open by himself.

“You used to be very easy to bribe back in the day, if I can remember.” Spencer told you, throwing a grin over his shoulder at you.

That grin, the light in his eyes. Him bringing up memories of ‘the old days’ - for a moment, it was all too much. It was too easy. It reminded you of simpler times - a time when you would have just leaned over and kissed him in order to shut him up.

“Enjoying and accepting gifts is a lot different than being bribed.” You muttered under your breath, leaving the gift bag on the table beside the door as you walked back into the living room where Sebastian was playing.

Spencer left it there for now - but he would have you open the gift before the day was over. That much he was determined of.

“Mommy, look!”

Sebastian ran toward you excitedly when he saw you walk back into the living room - he was waving something in his hand to show you. You quickly recognized it as a character from his favorite show - it was a rather large plush toy of Rubble from Paw Patrol. It still had a tag hanging off its ear, so it must have been what Spencer had brought him in that gift bag.

Your stomach tightened. You knew that it was likely something to do with profiling - the fact that when he had been here before, he had only been in your home for fifteen minutes, but he had likely been able to observe so much about your life (and about your son) just from the simple things you had sitting around. You hated it. You hated that he had so many skills and tools at his disposal that meant you could hardly keep any secrets from him.

“Oh wow, that’s so nice, baby.” You grinned widely, putting on your happiest voice for your son even though you didn’t like that Spencer had so easily bought his affection.

“And look, look at this!”

He nearly tripped over his own small feet, racing back over to the gift bag to fish out something else. He ran back over to you and handed it to you. It was a children’s picture book called ‘Dino ABC’ - it appeared to have a different dinosaur for each letter of the alphabet on each page. Educational and cute. Just what you would have expected from Spencer.

You felt a deep pain emanate out from the center of your chest - your heart literally aching as you fought your hardest to keep a big smile for your son.

“Seb, you still have to finish your snack.”

You told him, tossing the book aside to put it on the couch and walking back over to the coffee table in order to draw his attention to the abandoned plate with his food on it.

“Come on. You can play with your toys later.”

You had been part way through his snacktime when JJ had called you, trying to convince you to come into the police station for a briefing about ‘protection’. Ultimately, that conversation had distracted you when Spencer had knocked on the door.

He tucked Rubble under his arm and rushed to sit in your lap, shoveling cheese and crackers into his mouth off the frog shaped plate while you turned your attention toward Spencer - who had been watching the whole exchange while leaning against a wall, a tentative smile forming on his face.

“I have to hand it to you, you’re good.” You said, trying to keep your tone neutral, straying away from anger. “You hit on two of his biggest interests - Paw Patrol and dinosaurs. That profiling stuff is a lot more accurate than I thought,”

Spencer didn’t want to admit that he had just picked a book about dinosaurs because that was what he liked at that age, and the Paw Patrol thing had been all JJ’s doing. He had been far too busy caught up in anger at your initial stubbornness to try and ‘profile’ you.

“Well-” Spencer attempted to reply, but he was cut off by Sebastian’s loud, enthusiastic voice.

“What’s profiling?” He asked, nearly shouting, unintentionally spraying crumbs out of his mouth as he struggled to chew and speak at the same time.

“Buddy, what did we say about talking with your mouth full?” You huffed quietly, grabbing a napkin to wipe up some of the crumbs he had sprayed out.

You didn’t expect Spencer to indulge him with an honest answer.

“Well, you see…” Spencer thought for a moment, wanting to explain the concept to him in an honest, but child-friendly manner. “Profiling is when I look at the things around you, and how you act, and I can tell what you’re thinking.” He replied. “Like… if you have a secret.”

He moved toward the coffee table and once again crouched down to Sebastian’s level - and his cheeks curled into a smile at his son’s eager, curious eyes staring him down.

You watched the interaction quietly. You never would have admitted it, but it gave you butterflies to see how natural, how perfect Spencer already was with Sebastian.

Sebastian chewed a bit more before he spoke again.

“I have a secret.” Sebastian whispered - a dramatic stage whisper that kids his age always did.

“Hmm…”

Spencer put his thumb and forefinger against his chin, and cocked an eyebrow, looking around the room like a cartoonish detective, acting like he was trying to piece together exactly what this big secret was. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sebastian’s entire body go stiff, as if he could better hide while not moving - and one small, cracker-crumbed fist clenching tight under the coffee table as the boy tried his hardest to contain his laughter told him everything that he needed to know.

“You’re trying to hide part of your snack from Mommy!” Spencer declared, laughter in his voice as he pointed an ‘accusing’ finger toward Sebastian.

The boy burst into laughter and surrendered his hand, dumping a single crumbled up cracker onto his plate as he curled over with epic laughter - apparently finding the whole thing to be a very amusing game.

“You got me!” He chuckled.

You had difficulty hiding your own smile at all of this, and you tried to encourage Sebastian back into an upright position as he wiggled around from laughing so furiously.

“Well maybe we need Spencer around when you try to hide your carrots at dinnertime.” You said, your tone flat, not at all reaching that same joy. “Now come on, you joker, finish up please.”

You caught Spencer’s eye then - and he had the dangerous realization that you weren’t entirely kidding.

“I’ll be around whenever you need me.” Spencer replied, seriousness seeping back into his tone.

You wanted to argue this - but of course, you held back with Sebastian sitting in your lap. Instead, it dissolved into a sharp huff out of your nose.

When it seemed that you had nothing more to say on the matter, Spencer turned back to Sebastian, who was licking the mushy, bright red remnants of some strawberries off his fingers.

“What’s your favorite dinosaur, bud?” Spencer asked.

He was eager to get to know his son better - and he was expecting a rather generic answer from a four year old, like T-Rex.

He certainly did not expect what came next.

“Plesiosaurus!” Sebastian cried out excitedly, accidentally spitting out some food (again), which you rushed to wipe off his shirt and face with a nearby napkin. “They lived in the Jurassic period, and could grow to eleven feet long!”

Spencer beamed with pride.

Even though Spencer hadn’t spent that much time around children, he knew that this seemed to be fairly advanced knowledge for a four year old.

You gave Spencer a very distinct look over Sebastian’s head. You could see that glint in his eye, and you knew that you were both thinking the same thing.

He had interented his father’s big, big brain.

It was something you had known for a long time now. And you knew that it wouldn’t take Spencer long to see it.

“Wow, buddy.” Spencer smiled widely, eager to praise the boy. “That’s so awesome. My favorite is the Brontosaurus.”

Sebastian smiled, and nodded.

“They’re herbivores. Which means they only eat plants.” He replied. “Not like Mommy. She eats steak. And it’s gross.”

You couldn’t help but to let out a laugh at this, and Spencer easily joined you.

Leave it to the random stream of thoughts of a four year old to actually make you forget about your anger towards Spencer - at least for a little while.

“Mommy, can I have more strawberries?” Sebastian asked, holding up his now empty plate.

Something a lot of people don’t realize about little kids - they eat a lot of fruit.

“I’ll see if we have more.” You told him, moving to scoot him off your lap.

“I’ll go-” Spencer moved to get up, and you gave him a sharp glare that cut off his words.

Luckily, Sebastian didn’t see this as he jumped off your lap and rushed toward Spencer, picking up his dinosaur book with still sticky fingers along the way.

“I got it.” You grumbled quietly, picking up the plate and moving toward the kitchen.

You wanted to make a comment about how you had been taking care of him by yourself for the past four years, so a single plate of strawberries was not that big of a deal. But you didn’t want to be so passive aggressive in front of Sebastian, especially because he wouldn’t understand why.

You cleaned and cut up the few strawberries that were left, and when you came back, Sebastian was sitting on Spencer’s lap. They had the book propped open in Spencer’s hands while Sebastian gawked at it and explained in detail about whatever they were looking at - likely far greater detail than the book already had written in its pages.

“Ferrisaurus.” He said, nearly out of breath with excitement. “He has a very sharp beak. He was discovered in 1971 by Kenny F. Larson. He belongs to the Leptoceratopsidae family, and-”

You put the plate down in front of them, and Sebastian frowned when he saw it, cutting off his own words.

“Is there any more?” He complained loudly. “I wanna share some with my friend Spencer.”

Spencer’s mouth flattened into a thin line, clearly trying his hardest to hide a beaming smile at being claimed as Sebastian’s ‘friend’ once again.

“No, sweetie, that’s all the strawberries we have in the house.” You informed him. “I’ll go to the store and get some more tomorrow. But you can’t keep eating all the fruit and then complain when it’s all gone.”��

It was a common theme in your life - Sebastian could eat an entire carton of raspberries in one sitting, and then became upset when there was no more in the fridge.

Sebastian shrugged and reached up over the book to grab one off his plate. He shoved it into his mouth before reaching for another, looking up over his shoulder to then clumsily aim for Spencer’s mouth. You were expecting Spencer to dodge it and tell him ‘no thank you’ - a man who was a germaphobe, someone who you had seen use disinfecting wipes on forks at restaurants because he didn’t trust other people to clean the utensils well enough. But instead, he leaned down and captured the half-mushed fruit from your son, giving a small grin as some of the juices smeared across his lips.

Your stomach twisted into knots as you moved to sit on the couch.

You didn’t want to call it affection. You would deeply deny that it was fondness rising in you at seeing Spencer clearly soft and loving toward your son.

Toward his son.

Especially because it was a sight that you thought you would never witness in your lifetime.

“Thank you.” Spencer mumbled out as he chewed, and Sebastian chirped out a ‘you’re welcome!’ - even reaching to grab a napkin to help Spencer wipe his mouth before he then turned back to his book.

“You know, if he wants more fruit, I can run to the store. It’s really no trouble.” Spencer offered, clearly eager to give your son whatever he wanted - whatever he needed.

“He’s fine.” You sighed in return. “It’ll be fine until tomorrow. Do you have any idea how much fruit this kid eats in a day? How much fruit he’s eaten just today alone?” You remarked.

Spencer saw it as the rhetorical question it was, and waited for you to continue on.

“He ate an entire carton of raspberries before he left this morning. I had to change his shirt because he looked like a character from Texas Chainsaw.” You explained, feeling safe that Sebastian would not understand that reference.

“It makes sense.” Spencer replied. “The natural fructose found in most fruits make it an incredibly appealing taste to the underdeveloped palette of a child. It’s actually believed that before puberty, people have a higher concentration of taste buds on the apex of the tongue, which is the area associated with sweet and salty sensations, so children are more likely to crave sweet flavors. And most fruit has a mild but naturally satisfying fructose level, essentially making it less assertive than artificial candy that pubescent children would enjoy with a more developed tongue. Basically - children like it so much because fruit is nature’s candy.”

Spencer let out a breathy laugh as he finished this statement, and you knew that your eyes were glowing with delight as you stared at him.

Sebastian was staring up at him - clearly absorbing every single word that he spoke with eagerness. You wouldn’t be surprised if Sebastian was able to repeat back those facts word for word later on. He was startlingly like his father.

You almost hated it, but this reminded you so much of the Spencer you had fallen in love with. The man who excited you with his passion; the person who made your knees tremble because he was so chalked full of knowledge, but never pretentious about sharing it.

“Is that so?” You grinned in return.

Before Spencer could get too caught up at that affectionate sparkle in your eye, something barreled to the forefront of his mind.

“Wait - what did you mean by ‘before he left this morning’?” Spencer asked. “Where does Sebastian go during the day?”

He needed to know more about your life. There could be something small lurking in some corner that could lead him to the UnSub before the man had a chance to even consider attacking you.

“I go to see Abby!” Sebastian piped up, answering the question as he turned a page in his book. “And my friends: Paige, and Jimmy, and Emma.”

“Abby is his babysitter.” You explained. Spencer nodded at this. “He goes there four days a week. From nine in the morning until three in the afternoon. They have three other kids, Paige, Jimmy, and Emma. So he has friends there. He likes the social interaction. And I get my work done while he’s gone.”

“But you’re on a waitlist for a daycare in the area?” Spencer prodded. You grew confused at this, so he added on: “That’s how my team found you. Through the daycare applications.”

It felt like a violation of your privacy, but you didn’t point that out.

You felt like the conversation was straying into ‘grown-up’ territory. Things that you didn’t want to speak of in front of your son, because children are sponges and you don’t really know how much they absorb. So you decided that it was time for him to have some independent playtime while you and Spencer talked. He had finished his snack in the meantime, anyway.

You picked up a napkin and wiped his hands, and then you gently took the book from Spencer, who had been holding it open for Sebastian to look at it.

“Seb.” You spoke to him gently, leaning into his view. You brushed away one of his wild curls and he looked at you attentively - Spencer’s heart rate sped up uncontrollably, and he knew that he was looking at you much the same way. “Can you go play in your room for a while, buddy? I need to have some grown-up time with Spencer.”

“I want Spencer to come with me!” Sebastian argued gently. “I wanna show him my toys!”

“Yes, you can show him later.” You told him. “After we’re done talking, he’ll be right up, and you can show him all your dinosaurs, and-”

“And the stars!” Sebastian added on excitedly.

“Yes.” You nodded. “Whatever you want.”

Sebastian then let out a bright ‘okay!’ and Spencer helped him up, and there were more thunderous racing footsteps as Sebtastian went upstairs to go and play in his room.

“Grown-up time?” Spencer asked, quirking a brow at you.

You hated that the tiny bit of innuendo in his voice drudged up heat between your thighs.

You labeled it as desperation because you hadn’t been touched by another person in so long, not your genuine attraction toward him coming back again.

“Yes.” You said firmly. “You and I need to talk. About a lot of stuff. And he doesn’t need to hear all the gory little details.” You sighed. “Coffee?”

“That sounds great.” He nodded.

He followed you to the kitchen loyally and leaned against the counter while you went about the mechanical, ingrained movements to make a pot of coffee.

“So, why isn’t he in preschool?” Spencer asked.

He neglected to bring up the fact that the UnSub had likely targeted you through the preschool applications. He knew that you would become annoyed again if he brought up the fact that you were in danger - so he left that alone for now. The longer he stayed in the house, the better chance he had of convincing you to leave, to come into police custody for your own protection.

If the worst case scenario were to take place, his gun was in his bag. He would protect you if anyone tried to break in. He would protect you at all costs.

“They wouldn’t accept Sebastian into daycare because… they thought he was too advanced for their program.” You explained, answering his question. “They wanted me to have him IQ tested. And I refused, so they put him on the waitlist.”

You weren’t facing Spencer as you filled up the coffee machine with water, but he could hear it in your voice. Grit. Disdain.

Did you dislike the fact that your son was so advanced? Did you harbor annoyance because he had likely inherited that incredible intelligence from Spencer?

“Why didn’t you get him the IQ test?” Spencer probed, brimming with frustration. “Get him an assessment with a professional, at least?”

Sure, you disliked Spencer for your own reasons, but it was no good reason to have your son held back in life.

You shrugged. Obviously, you were holding back the truth.

“My mom thought it was a good idea.” You remarked. “But…”

You clicked the coffee pot into the coffee maker and turned it on, and then turned to face Spencer.

“I remembered all the stuff you said.” You said gently.

This confused Spencer, and he eagerly listened as you continued.

“About feeling ‘socially isolated’, and how you were upset that you didn’t have a ‘real childhood’ because you didn’t get to go to school with people in your own age group.” You explained.

Then it truly hit Spencer.

You weren’t avoiding having him tested to hold him back in life - you thought it was for his betterment.

Because you had truly retained something from your relationship with Spencer. From all those late night hours the two of you had spent talking, tangled up in the sheets together after-

Spencer forced himself not to think about it.

“I want him to have friends.” You continued on. “To have socialization. Even if he’s special - he can have education individually. Hell, having a tutor will probably be better for him if he’s so advanced, right? He probably needs individual attention.”

Spencer nodded at this.

“I wanted him to go to daycare - not because he needs to learn the ABCs and shit. He could recite the alphabet when he was eight months old.”

Spencer felt a wave of shock at this, and then intense pride.

“I wanted him to go there and make friends. So I guess him going to the babysitter and making friends turned out to be a better fit for him anyway.”

Spencer couldn’t describe the depth of the pride he was feeling. Not just at knowing how truly intelligent his son was, but at knowing that your instincts as a mother were so well tuned.

Not just because you knew what your son needed, but because you had listened to Spencer talking about regrets from his own childhood and you had tried to keep from making those same mistakes with his son. It was likely that you even saw how socially underdeveloped he was when you met him as a twenty one year old and that was a huge part of your reasoning.

In the few minutes he had spent with Sebastian, he already saw that brilliant intellect colliding with the nurturing you had shown him. His ability to make friends easily, his eagerness to share, his natural curiosity. He was leagues ahead of where Spencer had been at that age - shy, apprehensive, constantly clammed up around new people.

You had raised such a brilliant, beautiful boy.

“It seems like the right choice.” Spencer assured you. “I can already tell that the socialization is doing him well. He - he’s such a great kid.”

He couldn’t hold back his beaming smile this time, and he shoved his hands into his pockets, highly resisting the urge to reach out and touch you. He wanted so badly to pull you into a hug - to kiss you.

But he had to remind himself that he had lost those privileges so long ago.

He had to be thankful for the simple privilege of basking in your smile when you returned the action.

“I - I am actually kind of glad that you’re here.” You admitted meekly, a moment of shy honesty shining through.

Spencer resisted the urge to cheer loudly.

“I’ve been trying to teach him, but I barely know where to start.” You added on, exasperated laughter escaping your lips at the thought. “I can barely keep up with stuff that’s on his level. I read to him a lot, but I have trouble picking books that are appropriate for him? Anything that’s on his level academically has too much violence or racism or complicated themes for his age. At least, when it comes to fiction books. And I can’t really comprehend the scientific stuff. He picks out dinosaur books when we go to the library and reads them on his own, and half the stuff… he just tells me all the stuff he’s learned when he reads on his own and it amazes me.”

You chuckled, and Spencer easily returned it.

His son was truly an egghead after his own heart.

“I’ve been trying to teach him the periodic table, but I don’t even remember half of it myself. I haven’t needed it since high school chemistry.” You remarked with another dry laugh.

Spencer smiled brightly at you.

“You - you were right.” You hated to admit it. “He does need his dad. He needs you. He needs someone who can nurture that big brain of his.”

The detail oriented part of Spencer’s brain was eager to jump into planning - he wanted to ask you about creating a schedule, the logistics of how and when he would see his son, especially considering that the two of you lived in different cities, in different states. (Truthfully, he wanted to ask if you were willing to move closer so that he would be able to see Sebastian as often as possible.)

But he forced himself to set that aside for now, because something else was bothering him.

You reached up to the cupboard and grabbed two mugs, and poured up the coffee, and Spencer watched carefully as you went to the fridge and grabbed some creamer for yourself before you handed him his mug.

“The sugar is behind you.” You told him. “Spoons are in the drawer to your left.”

Naturally, you remembered how he liked his coffee. Black with regular sugar. It was something fond, that left an ache deep in his soul. He set to the gentle task of getting some sugar while he conjured up the courage to ask the question.

“Have you ever told him about me?” He asked. “I mean - have you told him about his father? Does he know who his dad is?”

He knew that obviously you hadn’t told Sebastian outright that Spencer was his father - not with a photo and a name. But he wondered if you had ever told him stories about who his father was - a doctor, a man who fought against bad guys. Did you only have room for malice against Spencer in your heart, or would have told Sebastian some of the good things about his dad? Had you told him how you and Spencer had met? Had you told him that the two of you were once in love?

He hated to think that you resented Spencer so much that you had lied. That you had made up some falsehood. Perhaps you had told Sebastian that his father was dead, or someone who never existed at all (because someone his age would believe that). Spencer’s insides flooded with anxiety at the thought that perhaps you had a boyfriend. Someone who was a fixture in Sebastian’s life already who the young boy called Dad.

Before Spencer could flare with too much jealousy at a completely made-up figure, you answered his question.

“I - ugh.” You stuttered out. “No.” You admitted hesitantly, capping the creamer and moving to put it back into the fridge.

You moved to sit down at the kitchen table and Spencer followed you with his own mug in hand. He found it quietly adorable that there was a rubber dinosaur placemat and a booster seat on one of the chairs - clearly the place where Sebastian sat to eat his meals. He pulled out the chair opposite of yours and carefully waited for you to continue talking.

“It was one of those things…” You stared down into your mug, a wave of embarrassment spiking in you.

Seeing how put together Spencer was now - how mature. It filled you with regret, and made you feel quite embarrassed about not contacting him before.

But the Spencer you had last seen was nothing like this. So previously, you had no intentions of seeking him out in order to introduce him to his son. But every time a major life event came up - toward the end of your pregnancy, the birth, filling out the birth certificate and leaving the section of his father’s name blank… The first time Sebastian sat upright on his own, his first words, seeing how truly intelligent he was, his first steps, potty training him.

Through all of it - you ached with regret. There were more than a dozen times (sometimes more than a dozen times a day) when you considered reaching out to Spencer and telling him the news. But you thought that he might lash out at you in anger for not telling him when you found out that you were pregnant. (And then you thought he would be even angrier for not telling him sooner).

You had considered that with his job, and with the other circumstances - he might be dead. That there might not even be someone on the other end if you did reach out.

You didn’t want to go looking for a father for your son, only to have to mourn over someone you once loved.

You didn’t want to open the door for more hurt to come your way.

“It was one of those things, that… the older he got… I never considered that he might ask.” You explained. “I just thought I could get away without telling him who his father was. Without talking about you at all. Because I was so hurt over what happened between us.”

Oddly enough, Spencer understood this. That night - things had been so messy. Spencer had always wanted a chance to apologize. He would have pushed harder - he would have chased after you better if he knew that there was a child hanging in the mix.

“You had no intention of ever finding me again to introduce me to my son?” Spencer asked.

He needed to hear you say it.

You shook your head, entirely solemn, even more guilty.

“It was selfish.” You admitted. “I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t handle the pain of seeing you again. I didn’t consider how it might affect him.”

“So… he has been asking about me?” Spencer probed. “He’s been asking about his father?”

You shrugged.

“He’s old enough to understand the concept now.” You said, sipping your coffee. “He sees stuff on TV. Cartoons where characters have a Mom and a Dad. And he reads science books about animals - so he knows that other ‘species’ need two parents to ‘reproduce’.” You were almost annoyed by the fact that your son was so smart and still so young. You couldn’t trick him with gentle lies anymore. “I don’t think I can convince him that I am the only asexual reproducing woman on the planet.”

Spencer let out a harsh chuckle at this. He knew how it was at that age - too smart for his own good.

“What have you told him?” He wondered aloud.

“I have been trying my hardest not to tell him anything.” You replied. “Whenever he asks about his own father, I just… dodge around it.” You told him honestly. “What do you think all the strawberries are for? I mean, I can’t lie to him, but I can distract him. He’s still at the age where his attention span is not that great if he gets excited about something.”

“Would you be willing to have that conversation with him?” Spencer asked meekly. “The three of us? Would you - would you be okay with him knowing me as his dad?”

He was terrified that you might reject him. That you still hated him enough after that horrible night that you wouldn’t want your son to see Spencer as his father, even if it was the truth. (A truth that you and Spencer knew intimately well.)

“Spencer.” You choked out his name, looking at him with tears dancing in your eyes.

You knew that you had been harsh upon first seeing him again, perhaps unrightfully lashing out due to your own vendetta. But you didn’t think that you had made such a nasty impression.

“Of course. Spence, I-” You choked on your own words for a second, taking in a sharp breath in an attempt to regain your composure.

Spencer tried not to get excited at you calling him ‘Spence’ again for the first time in so long. He couldn’t take the familiarity, the sweet nickname as meaning the same thing it used to. He couldn’t take it as a signal of affection.

“Even if you and I can’t get back to where we were…” You continued on.

(Which would be something you would gratefully regret now, those feelings for him locked up inside of you, banging on the door, just begging to get out.)

“My son is so lucky to have you as his father. And I am sorry that it was due to my own selfishness that he missed out on you in his life for so many years.”

“It’s not all your fault.” Spencer replied. “You don’t have to apologize.”

You nodded at this, and the two of you fell silent once again.

Of course, both of you wished that you could go back to that night and do things differently.

You wished that you would have told him about the pregnancy as soon as you took the test - so if he was going to scorn you, he could make an informed choice about doing so.

Spencer wished that he could have chased you - that he could have been in his son’s life from day one.

Which made him curious about something.

“Can I ask you one more thing?” Spencer asked when it came to the forefront of his mind.

“Sure,” You sighed. “I think we have a few more minutes before you have to go.”

You chuckled, motioning toward the stairs - where Sebastian would surely be running down soon, waiting for Spencer to come and play with him, so Spencer could be shown all of his toys, introduced to each dinosaur by name and species.

“When did you find out that you were pregnant?” He asked. “Was it - was it before? Or after?”

He didn’t even have to fully spell it out in order for you to know exactly what he meant.

Had you known that you were pregnant when the two of you had broken up?

You could have easily lied to him. But just like every other moment on this day, stupidly - you felt like you owed him the truth.

“After.” You told him. “It - it was about two weeks after. When I took one of those at home tests. And I had already made up my mind that I never wanted to see you again. So just - then and there, I decided that I was gonna raise the kid alone.”

“You - you just unilaterally decided that you were going to raise my son alone?” Spencer snapped, some of that spite from early coming back like the coals from a fire being stoked.

“Yes. I did.” You said firmly.

You didn’t have to remind him of why.

Spencer sighed and rolled his eyes, and then plowed forward with another question.

“So - so do you know when-?” He began, and you cut him off.

‘Do you know when he was conceived?’

“No.” You quickly replied.

But it was a lie. You knew.

You felt like you couldn’t easily tell him the truth about this. If there was one thing you couldn’t afford to do right now, with Spencer Reid sitting at your kitchen table, staring at you with his big, inquisitive, glossy eyes, licking his lips, with his firm jaw set tight in contemplation - you couldn’t afford to go reminiscing with him about the night your son had been conceived.

You had spent a lot of time during your pregnancy thinking. Doing the math. Trying to remember.

And you knew exactly when.

The night was so vivid in your mind.

It was one of the last good memories you had with Spencer. It was one of the most perfect pictures you had of who he truly was before he came home from Georgia such a different person, and you had no clue why he had changed.

…

Spencer had come over to your place late one night.

He had a key, but usually he was afraid to wake you up by using it. But that night he had been swamped with paperwork, writing up consultations on cases less urgent for police precincts that the BAU couldn’t get out to attend to in person. Images of mangled bodies stuck in his mind and by the time he finished up, it was well past dinner - well past a decent hour to be seeing you. But his insides felt hollow with a unique kind of grief as he imagined all the people who wouldn’t be getting home to their families - the people in the photos.

He fingered over the key to your apartment on his keyring as he walked out the front doors of the office. He had taken the metro that day, and the last trains ran late into the night - until two or three am, to ensure that people drinking could get home safely. But he needed some fresh air, so he decided to walk. He took out his cellphone and decided to call you.

If he let himself into your apartment unexpectedly so late - he didn’t want to scare you.

“Spencer.”

Your voice had a breathy, airy quality to it. He wouldn’t quite call it tiredness, not like he had woken you from sleep.

“Y/N.” He called your name back softly. “Did I wake you?” He still wanted to ask, even though he wasn’t sure that was the case.

“No.” You replied. “I - I missed you, baby.”

The slightest quiver in your tone gave you away. That gentle, needy curl around the word baby - it practically brought him to his knees on the sidewalk.

All at once, his mood changed.

It was something beautiful that you often did for him.

Every single bit of brick-like grief was pushed out of him in favor of that flowery, dreamy lust.

“You missed me?” He parroted the words back, mischief seeping into his voice as he continued the walk toward your apartment on slightly weaker legs, the cool night air brushing up against his now heated cheeks. “You’ve been thinking about me a lot tonight, haven’t you, darling?”

You let out a fluttering moan. You knew that you had been caught, so you felt no sense in holding back now.

Spencer pulled his messenger bag to sit in front of his crotch, praying that he wouldn’t look indecent in public. It took so little effort from you to make his cock swell to attention - with his intense attraction toward you, and with you being so perfect, such a beacon of beauty and sex.

“You caught me.” You huffed out. “Been thinkin’ about you all night, baby. The bed feels so empty without you.”

You both knew that it was a subtle admission. The downright filthy way you said the word ‘empty’ - Spencer bit his lip to hold back a moan just hearing it. You knew that those clouded innuendos turned him on so much. The veil. The intention.

You were touching yourself, and Spencer had called with perfect timing to ‘catch you’ in the middle of the act.

If Spencer strained his ears enough, he could hear the wet slide of your fingers against your pussy on the other end of the line, and he knew that you could hear the increase in his breathing - the hard huff coming out of his nostrils because of it.

“Where are you?” You whined, clearly needy. “Need you, Spence.”

You hoped that he wasn’t too busy, caught up at work.

“On my way to you now.” He told you, his voice leaking desperate breaths.

He was already grinning widely at the thought of what would be waiting for him - how you would be leaking wetness, so warm and ready for him; how he would be able to simply slide his hard cock into you with no resistance and your gorgeous pussy would so eagerly swallow him up. He forced himself to focus.

“Wait for me, okay?” He added on, trying to have some firmness in his tone - but he knew that it sounded too much like pleading and you would be kind to comply.

Wait.

You let out a strained, harsh sound at this.

You knew that it was another subtle code.

He didn’t want you to make yourself orgasm until he got there. (You had already had one before he called, but it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as one by Spencer’s hand, or his tongue.)

He likely wanted you to stop touching yourself all together. He wanted to leave you on edge, to make you even more needy for him. Even if he would only take a few minutes to arrive, he wanted you hungry.

You had the urge to argue with this, but you held back.

You knew that it would be worth it.

Spencer always made it worth it.

“Okay.” You huffed back, an undertone of frustration in your voice that got Spencer even more excited. You needed him. And he planned on providing every single inch of what he knew you needed so badly. “I’ll wait.” You agreed. “But hurry? Please?”

Please.

The way you said it, asking so nicely - it nearly knocked the wind out of him. You would never truly have to ask him to touch you. Truthfully, he should have to ask for the privilege of providing you with pleasure. He would never say no to you.

But there was something beautiful about hearing that from your lustful voice.

“I’ll be there before you know it.” He promised you gently before hanging up the call.

Spencer would have broken out into a full run if - one, it wouldn’t have made him look entirely idiotic, and two, it wouldn’t have stolen all his energy. Energy that he needed in order properly fuck you. He didn’t need to arrive at your apartment sweaty and panting and then collapse onto the floor in a heap and miss out on his chance to make sweet love to you.

He got there as fast as his legs could carry him (at a reasonable pace), and he estimated that it took him less than four minutes - because your apartment really wasn’t that far from the office. Conveniently enough for him. He skipped the elevator ride and took the stairs two at a time in his eagerness (and long legs). And soon enough, he was putting the key into the lock, welcomed by gentle shadows, the smell he recognized as the air freshener you loved to use, and a single guiding light that must have been the tableside lamp in your bedroom.

“Spence?”

You called out from down the hall as he closed and locked the door behind him.

“It’s me.” He assured you.

He tossed his keys into a bowl that you kept on the counter, toeing off his shoes, ditching his bag off to the side, and shrugged off his jacket as he walked down the hall.

“That was fast.” You remarked with a giggle, making him smile.

“A lady should never have to wait.” He replied, coming to stand at your open bedroom door, already working open his tie.

“Then you better hurry up.” You told him, your voice melting into a purr as you stared at him with honey warm lust in your eyes.

You were completely naked, laying in the middle of the bed, propped up on a few comfortable pillows. The comforter was down by your ankles; perhaps you had crawled into bed with the intention to sleep (some of your sleep clothes strewn across the floor, as though you had stripped them off and tossed them aside) - but then found yourself feeling that deadly ache between your thighs and kicked away the covers to relief yourself.

Spencer had called you with perfect timing.

Perhaps your soul had sung out to him like a siren - luring him here to perform his duty to you, to act as the servant meant to bring you pleasure. He could think of no better duty meant for his existence than to serve you. Ideally, it was something he wanted to spend the rest of his days doing. He would buy you a house, give you kids if you wanted them, support you in whatever ways you needed. He felt like he lived to make your life better - to make you smile, to make you laugh, to make you moan with pleasure.

If he didn’t have that, then he was lost.

In the low lighting, the star shaped necklace that he had given you for your birthday sparkled between your breasts, and Spencer found that you were most gorgeous wearing only that - a kiss of his claim on you, a perfect symbol of the beauty of your relationship among your goddess-like curves.

He felt entirely overdressed and he rushed to play catch up; fingers fumbling over buttons, his movements becoming downright frantic as he stripped out of his clothes. He almost knocked his glasses off his face while ripping his shirt off his head, and he had to place them on your bedside table for safekeeping. And then he nearly tripped out of his pantlegs on his way to the bed, which had you giggling, and he flashed you a smile.

But finally, he was freed, as naked as you were, and he crawled between your open, welcoming thighs. It felt like coming home. Your hands reached up to settle onto his ass - gently smoothing from the skin there, up his back, spreading warmth across his body as you groped him smoothly with soft, open hands.

He planted one hand on the pillow beside your head and used the other to gently lift your chin toward his. He captured your lips in a smooth, knowing, passionate kiss - you didn’t hesitate to moan into his mouth, and Spencer echoed it right back. He had missed you so much during the day. Even though he had seen you less than forty-eight hours before this, he felt decades of yearning in his heart.

He really should ask you to move in with him soon.

Even if he had to be away for days on cases, he should get to come home to you.

The two of you should start building a proper life together.

But of course, any thoughts about the clippings of property listings that Spencer had hidden away in a desk drawer fled from his mind when you rubbed your knee across his thigh, sending shivers through him - reminding him exactly what he was here for.

Typically, he would be the kind of man to go down on you, thoroughly, before he fucked you. He loved the feeling of your legs tightening around his head - he loved the taste of you on his tongue.

But when he felt the bare head of his cock bump up against your entrance, smearing your wetness over him - his self control broke down. He had missed you so much. He realized that he needed you just as badly as you needed him. He moaned even harder against your mouth, and he pulled away from the kiss with a huff, moving his hand to your hip.

Then, he asked a very important question.

“Do you have a condom?”

It broached the front of his mind, then, that he hadn’t brought one with him.

He knew that you typically kept a box of condoms in your bedside table. But the last time he had reached for one, the box had been empty. And he had resorted to using ‘the emergency condom’ that he kept in his bag. He didn’t have one in his bag now and he wasn’t sure if you had gotten a new box of condoms for the nightstand.

While he contemplated all of this, he kissed along the side of your breast, and then gently tongued at your necklace, still loving how it looked against your bare skin.

“You don’t need one.” You breathed out in reply.

You combed your hand through his hair, raking your nails across his scalp in a way that made his hips unconsciously buck forward. It was something that made it far more difficult for him to concentrate. Especially when he felt more of that warm wetness smear across him, his cock just barely dipping into your heat.

He didn’t entirely care to decipher the meaning behind your words. He simply trusted you.

(Later, when he was looking back on it, he would have guessed that you meant you were taking your oral birth control consistently. Or that you meant to pick up a Plan B pill in the morning. But looking back on it now - it was the only time within those last months of your relationship that the two of you didn’t use a condom. You were urging him on, and maybe, at the time - a baby truly was what you had in mind.)

“Please, Spencer.” You begged quietly. “I need you. Just you.”

He wasn’t one to deny you anyway. And he certainly wasn’t going to deny himself of this.

He reached down and used a hand around the base of his cock to help line himself up - and then he gently guided the length of his cock into you.

This was always his favorite part.

The gasp - the lilting moan you let out when his cock first slid into you, the way your thighs flexed around his hips - it was all so perfect.

But it was even more perfect without the barrier of a condom in the way. Spencer always thought that it was a myth, men talking about how condoms actually reduced the feeling. It was such a thin piece of latex, how could it truly affect the overall sexual experience that much? Sex with you was so amazing, he couldn’t possibly imagine it getting any better.

But this - this was so much better.

He could feel your wetness sliding against every inch of his cock, he could feel your heat drowning him, he could feel every little clench you made - every little movement. He felt like he was truly drowning inside of you. Like he was being smothered inside of your perfect body.

His head collapsed against your breast, and he sucked in a sharp breath, struggling through it all, as though he was trying to swim through thick, warm honey. His head was hazier than it had ever been - if someone asked him to recite a most basic fact at this moment, he wouldn’t be able to.

“Spence,”

You whined, arching your hips into him, forcing your pelvis into him just slightly more - he felt your pubic hairs grazing against the base of his cock, the sensitive head of his cock angling at a new place inside of you. He let out a pathetic moan, struggling not to cum too early.

“Move, please.” Your voice was breathy, and desperate, and he had to remind himself of his purpose - bringing you pleasure.

“Yes.” He sighed, trying to regain his composure. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, just-”

Whatever else you were going to say was promptly cut off when Spencer put both hands on your hips and bent his knees slightly, gaining the traction needed to properly fuck you.

He didn’t initiate a brutal or rough pace, but he pistoned his hips well enough to take the air out of you. His movements rang a moan out of your lungs as pleasure hummed through your body, finally getting what you had been craving all night. You loved the feeling of his long cock finally plunging in and out of you, especially without the barrier of a condom. It was enough to create the delightfully filthy sound of skin smacking through the air, well timed with the chorus of moans that began to echo out from your lips. Something that was complemented by Spencer’s own grunting and whining - something he tried to partially hide by biting his lip.

It was perfect. It was so easy, came so naturally between the two of you. It was a perfect rhythm between your bodies that came from knowing each other so well, feeling so at ease with each other. It was a perfect dance that made your entire body relax - the beautiful tingle of knowing that he was touching you.

“Thank you.” You moaned, reaching around to plant your hands on Spencer’s ass again. “Fuck, thank you.”

You bent your knees and spread your thighs more, angling your body perfectly for him to fuck into you even deeper. At the same time, you used your hold on him to pull him closer - to shove his cock even deeper into you. Something that both of you grunted harshly at. It wasn’t just out of the visceral need to have him inside of you; it was the pure yearning to feel close to him, to have him as physically close as possible.

With your wetness gathering around the base of his cock and dripping down over his balls - with your hot, thrumming cunt squeezing over him, he was getting dangerously close.

“Y/N.” He warbled out your name, almost as a warning.

“It’s okay.” You breathed back. “Cum for me. Come on, please.”

Spencer couldn’t resist - not when you said ‘please’.

The sound that came from his chest could only be described as a cry, and you forcibly held him close by digging your nails into the flesh of his ass. Any fleeting thought he might have had about pulling out left his brain in a millisecond. Especially when he felt your tightness fluttering around him, his hips unconsciously fucking deep into you, his body loving the feeling of being held tightly there while your cunt milked him for all he was worth.

He certainly didn’t miss the sweet moans you let out - the bright eyed awe you started up at him with as you felt his cum fill you up for the first time.

Spencer collapsed on top of you - even as tired as he was, he was careful not to hurt you by putting too much of his body weight onto you. (Even though you professed that you liked feeling his weight on top of you because he didn’t weigh all that much).

“Wow.” Spencer breathed into your neck - finding himself speechless after such a fantastic moment.

“That - that was amazing.” You remarked, breathless.

After a few moments, his cock began to go flaccid and slipped out of you, and he still felt your pussy practically beating with heat. He was reminded of something.

“You haven’t had an orgasm.” He mumbled quietly.

“It’s okay, I-”

‘I made myself cum earlier.’

Your words were cut off as Spencer descended down between your thighs. He felt his cock twitch with interest at the sight of his thick, white cum leaking out of your used cunt, mixing with your clear wetness.

So perfect.

He didn’t hesitate before putting his hands on your thighs, holding your legs apart while he shoved his tongue deep inside of you - partially with the purpose of cleaning up his own mess and partially with the newfound curiosity to taste what the two of you were like together.

You gripped onto his hair and moaned out, not a single complaint to be found on your lips.

It was the most perfect night that either of you could have imagined. All topped off by falling asleep in each other’s arms after a hot shower together.

Three days later, Spencer was called away on a case in Atlanta, Georgia that changed his life forever.

…

‘Do you know when he was conceived?��

“No.”

Spencer could see the lie reflected in your body language - how closed off you became, how quickly you rushed to cut off his words. Along with the intense heat reflected in your eyes. You were thinking about that night.

He thought he knew exactly which night you were thinking about - if his memory served him well enough. Which it usually did.

He couldn’t hold himself back from calling you on it.

He locked his eyes on yours across the table, the memory of that night possessing him - the ghost of your warm skin pressing against his own only further driving the words from his lips.

“Don’t lie to me.” He said, his voice a deadly, low rumble. “Look at me now, and tell me in all honesty that you don’t remember that night. Tell me that you don’t remember the way I felt inside of you. Tell me you don’t remember how good it was.”

Maybe it was pure spite on Spencer’s end. Desperately wanting to know that after all the resentment, the arguing, the years he had lost with his son, with you, that you still felt something for him underneath the anger and the annoyance.

Even if that underlying thing was lust. It was a strange victory, but he mentally cheered when he saw you clench your thighs together past the table - when your jaw tightened up. Your fingers twitched, and he knew you well enough to see the subtle signs of your lust from a mile away.

Old habits die hard.

Spurred on by this, and your steely silence, he kept going.

“Tell me that you don’t remember how perfect we were together - how good it felt when it was just us, nothing but skin on skin for the first time.”

You exhaled sharply.

“Spencer, we are not doing this right now.” You declared, your voice quivering slightly in your throat.

This didn’t deter him.

It was your use of the words ‘right now’ - even if unconsciously, you thought that there might be a ‘later’.

(In your mind, having sex with your ex, the father of your child, just to get off, sounded like the worst idea ever. But he looked so good and you knew that he was good in bed and if you had to be cooped up in the house with him for much longer, you would be making that stupid decision against your own will.)

“Tell me you don’t remember how good it felt when I came inside you that night.”

Spencer’s words were becoming more graphic now, looking to get more of a reaction out of you.

It worked in an instant - you swallowed thickly, your whole body tingling with the imagery his voice carried. The underlying lustful rumble in his tone making your insides quake. Your leg twitched with that unconscious desire to have some friction between your thighs. It was working so well, and he hated how much he loved it.

“I mean - what was your intention that night? Did you want me to fuck a baby into you? Is that why you were so desperate for me to fuck you raw? Is that why you kept pushing my cock deeper inside of you? Were you just that desperate to get knocked up?”

His words were making you utterly dizzy with heat. If it wasn’t for the common sense blinking loudly at the front of your brain, you would have jumped across the table and tackled him just to hump him for some sort of friction on your aching cunt.

Of course, he could read this plainly all over your face.

“Spencer-” You breathed out.

Just then, Spencer’s phone rang, cutting through the dangerously palpable tension in the air.

He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and when he saw Morgan’s contact name on the screen, he thought for certain that the man was calling to discuss some development in the case.

“I have to take this.” Spencer sighed.

“That’s fine.” You nodded. You were glad to have some relief from the dangerous tension - you needed a few minutes to collect yourself.

Spencer got up from the table and naturally moved toward the back door - a sliding glass door that he was disappointed to find unlocked. He would have to remind himself to have a talk with you about having better security protocols in your home, even during daylight hours.

Spencer closed the door behind himself, creating a small barrier of privacy as he answered the call.

“Hello.”

“Hey, pretty boy,” Morgan chuckled.

Spencer rolled his eyes, immediately knowing that this wasn’t a work call - this wasn’t anything serious in nature for Morgan to be greeting him that way.

“What do you want?” Spencer replied, his patience already in short supply.

“Oh, come on, man.” Morgan kept up that airy, light tone. “You think you can sneak around with your secret little family and not have it be the hottest gossip we’ve had in years? I wanna hear more about this kid of yours. Me and Prentiss got a bet, goin’ - so, was it an accident or not? Did you really know what you were doin’ when you stuck your little genius thang in her back then? Or no?”

Reid was going to kill JJ. (Well, not really. He was likely just going to glare at her firmly and ignore her for a day - or, just until she apologized.)

He knew that it had likely been an accident - the information about his private life getting leaked to the entire team. But, if JJ could keep important information about killings away from the media, why couldn’t she keep this out of the team’s hands? Why couldn’t she have made up some excuse about where Reid was?

“No, no.” Spencer ground out harshly, reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I am not telling you if my son’s conception was an accident or not just to satisfy some stupid bet.”

“Ooh, a son.” Morgan seemed stuck on this piece of information. “Rossi, you owe me a drink. It is a boy.”

Reid heard Rossi and Prentiss arguing in the background, and he let out another frustrated sigh.

“Don’t you have work you should be doing?” Spencer asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

“Hotch has us spinning our wheels here.” Morgan replied. “Goin’ through more of these daycare forms while Garcia runs more background checks - but, so far, we’ve come up with squat. Your Baby Mama is the only real lead we’ve got so far.”

Reid sighed.

“So, was it a one night stand? An epic night of passion?” He chuckled, still using a teasing tone.

Spencer didn’t answer.

“At least tell me this - is she cute? What was it about this woman that got Doctor Reid to chase after his Darwin instincts for once?” Morgan pressed on.

“She’s beautiful.” Spencer replied without even thinking, his eyes looking at you through the glass door. “She… she’s perfect in every conceivable way.”

Sebastian had come back down stairs, clearly looking for Spencer. And now you had him in your lap, still sitting on your kitchen chair, playing with a couple of plastic dinosaurs that he had brought down from his bedroom on the tabletop.

There was a distinct, humble beauty in the fact that you didn’t know you were currently under Spencer’s attention. You looked at Sebastian with such intense love in your eyes - a way you had once looked at Spencer, before that love had been replaced by scorn and disdain. Before he had messed it all up.

“Woah.” Morgan wisped in reply. “That sounds like a whole lot more than just one night of baby makin’.”

Maybe he was still fishing for information to ‘win’ the bet, maybe not. Spencer couldn’t quite tell from his tone alone. But he did sound a bit more serious, and that wedged Spencer open a bit more in order to feel comfortable continuing.

“It was.” Spencer sighed. “She - she was the love of my life.” He added on, feeling safe to tell Morgan this. “But I messed it all up.”

Morgan instantly dropped his joking and teasing when he heard the choked off tears in Spencer’s voice.

“What happened?” He asked.

“Long story.” Spencer sighed. “But - it ends with me being excluded from my son’s life. For a good reason.”

“I don’t see any good reason why you shouldn’t be allowed to see your kid.” Morgan replied. “Reid, I’ve seen you with kids, man. If anybody deserves to be a father, it’s you.”

“I was different back then. Around the time she got pregnant.” He explained. “It was just after Hankel.”

There was a tense silence as Morgan sat with the truth - as he absorbed it. Clearly, he was unsure of what to say, and Spencer found himself naturally continuing on.

“He’s so smart.” He added on, looking at the way Sebastian ran his fingers along the neck of the brontosaurus - maybe he had brought that one down for Spencer, remembering that he had said it was his favorite. “He’s such a good kid.”

He almost choked on these words, more tears welling up that he forcefully pushed down.

He turned away from the glass door then, just in case you looked up to see his tearful face. He wiped his eyes with a stiff hand, and he was surprised by what Morgan said next.

“So be good to him.” He said. “Be there for him now. Step up and be the dad that we all know you can be.”

Before he could reply, Morgan continued.

“I don’t know if I believe in fate, but Penelope always says that everything happens for a reason.” He said. “And she would tell you to use this as an opportunity to be reunited with your girl, and become a real family. Even if it is because of some scumbag killing people that brought us here.”

Spencer smiled at this.

“That is very Garcia.”

“And you know she’s always right.”

...

Continue reading here: Chapter Four - Last Hope

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction

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roturo · 9 months

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HERE ME OUT

Toji, Gojo, Megumi (choose one, i dont mind) realize spanking isnt doing much for a punishment anymore (youre enjoying it too much) so they come up with other ideas

ex. watching you get fucked by a fuck machine in a mirror while u cum over n over begging for the real thing, seeing how many sex toys you can get away with wearing in public, switching between making you cum over n over to not letting you cum every hour or something ALL NIGHT, etc

BRAT - JJK MEN

warnings: smut, overstimulation, semi-public sex, edging, ice cube play, cunnilingus, slapping, pussy slapping, degradation, spanking, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, dumbification, sub-space, dom/sub dynamics, humiliation, bondage, bdsm, handcuffing, use of vibrator, throat bump, tummy bump (idk how it's called), bratty reader, objectification, jealousy, mirror sex, breeding, unprotected sex, penis in vagina, there's more warnings but idk.

Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, Megumi Fushiguro & Sukuna.

Gojo Satoru

He first realized spanking you as a punishment isn’t working when your bratty remarks started becoming more usual after 3 or 4 spanks, you moaned at the feeling and teased him even more for him to do it again.

To say he’s angry at this is an understatement, because he hates brats. Hates not having control, and your behavior being the last drop of breaking was all he needed to give you a real punishment.

You thought he was being mean? Oh no, he was being nice right now.

You pull on his white locks and the only answer you receive is a disapproval grunt from him. You sob, so overwhelmed and tired, but you can't deny how good his tongue feels on your naked core.

The feeling of his tongue abusing your overstimulated hole had you feeling dizzy, but the vibratory he had on his hand teasing your swollen nub made the pleasure more unbearable than before.

He already got two orgasms out of you, one with his fingers patting gently your sweet spot and the other by sucking avidly on your clit while he fingered you and used the vibratory to tease your other hole. You don't remember which one came first and maybe they both happened at the same time. You don't really know.

And the worst thing of all? You were in a public space.

You never noticed he brought a vibrator, it's like he knew you were looking for this, for a punishment, but he also knows you don’t see spanking as a punishment anymore, so he had a change of plans.

You were a little bit too flirty with Nanami tonight, he couldn’t take it, so when he saw you going to the restroom he didn’t care it seemed so obvious, he followed you behind.

Your pleas for him to stop went to deaf ears, not taking care in the world and not having any hint of stopping this.

You already had your makeup messed up, you’re sure about that, tears coming out your eyes, smudged lipstick, messy hair, he made sure for everyone to know he fucked the soul out of you. Making visible hickeys on your neck, he wanted to humiliate you.

And if like that wasn’t enough, once he finished he left the vibratory inside of you, so when the both of you walked out, not only everyone knew you two fucked at the restroom, but they’ll know you’re struggling to even talk or walk.

“Ah-ah, you acted like a bitch, i’ll treat you like one.”

Geto Suguru

This man is RUTHLESS. He would tie up your arms and legs on the bed so you can’t move. Using an ice cube toy tease your body, saying is “what you deserve for being too fucking horny all the time”

The vibrator inside of you wouldn’t stop at any moment, making you come with no break, his tongue playing with your nipples, licking your tummy while going down on you till he found your clit. Grabbing another ice cube and tracing near your cunt.

He would spit on you or slap your pussy every time you told him to stop, making you even a messier moaning mess. His words would be hard too, not accepting any type of bratty behavior coming out of you, it’s what you earned.

He was angry, he couldn’t contain watching you dance with another man, knowing he was right there. You aren’t anything serious, yet, but he makes sure for everyone to know you’re his.

You felt dizzy, coming into subspace once he finished giving you your last orgasm of the night. Needing some time more to adapt to your surroundings. He made sure to cum in your stomach once he felt he couldn’t contain it anymore, and that’s when he knew he had to stop.

Because this man has self-control, he wanted to prove a point and he made sure of doing it. Treating you like a slut. Fucking you like a slut. You’re no one’s slut but his.

Toji Fushiguro

He’s the opposite of Geto, he’ll make sure to have all the pleasure for himself and just him.

You were about to cum? too bad, because he’s the one coming, not you. He would even edge himself just to make sure you don’t come. Using you like a fucking toy in front of his mirror, pinching your nipples and biting your shoulders.

Your pussy would be so full of him you could even feel a small bump in your tummy, filling you up with his cum, the slickness of it making it easier for him to thrust into you.

Every time he touched your g-spot with his cock, you were almost screaming, begging for release. Every time you close your eyes he would grab you by the chin, threaten to not let you cum for 30 minutes more if you close them again.

Wetting his fingers with your liquids and mostly his cum just to insert them in your mouth. “You want to feel that too, huh? You want to taste yourself too?”

Nodding your head like you could, trying to say yes but every time you opened up your mouth a moan came out of it, just being able to call his name and little ‘please’

But he just laughed at how fucked up you look right now, continuing thrusting into you, one of his arms wrapping around your waist while the other one grabs you by your throat, making sure you’re looking at the two of you in the mirror.

Depending on how good you behave, he’ll decide if he’ll let you cum or not. You might spend the whole night without coming until the next time both of you have sex, thrusting you to make this punishment again if you cum without him.

Megumi Fushiguro (My man, my husband, my boyfriend)

He wouldn’t show he was angry at you, noticing you were enjoying the slaps on your ass, he just suddenly stopped. Analyzing what he should do.

Your smirk disappeared once you heard the silence, not feeling his hands on your ass. Looking through your shoulder, you found a blank face megumi looking at you

You were laying down on his lap and the couch, your ass displayed for him while he manhandled you. You were about to ask what’s wrong until he pulled you by the hair looking at your face before he switched positions, you’re now sitting on his lap.

With his cursed energy, some snakes came from the shadows and made sure he grabbed you by the wrists, putting them on your back so the snakes could simulate a handcuff.

Megumi is a silent man.

But this silence felt really different from the others, his dark blue orbs seemed almost black, his gaze showing no emotion other than seriousness.

He grabbed you by the armpits and positioned you on the floor, kneeled in front of him, while you watched him unbuckle his pants.

Lowering down enough his pants and boxers so his cock was displayed, pinkish tip with a small pearl coming out of his tip, a vein coming from the base on the left side, and slightly curved.

“Open your dirty mouth slut.”

You did as he said, and he wasted no time in inserting his cock inside of you, giving you and your poor throat no time to adjust while he bobbed your head.

Your nose touching his pelvic bone, his free hand traveled down your face until he felt your throat, a small bump appearing and disappearing each time he thrusted inside of you.

A smirk appeared on his face while he groaned and left small whimpers at the pleasure of using you like a cum dump.

He has a lot of stamina, he doesn’t give up for nothing, not on a fight, not on smacking your bratty face out of your sight.

He felt that tingly feeling on his stomach, ready to cum, with just some more thrusts he dumped strips of cum inside your mouth.

You coughed a little, sore throat, trying to regain your posture when his cock left your mouth, it was still rock hard.

“Don’t have big hopes i’m going to fuck your pussy, i’ll continue fucking your mouth till you can’t even speak.”

Sukuna.

He has you sitting on his lap while he’s on his throne. Different mouths coming out of his body, one on his pelvic bone playing with your nub while he bounces you on both of his cocks. Feeling so full of him, you swear you couldn’t even talk, moans and whimpers only coming out of you.

His head was resting in one of his hands, while two of them were gripping your tits with a mouth on them while they sucked your nipples.

“You fucking brat.”

He would sometimes groan everytime your cunt clenched around his cock, or when he felt one of your holes a little bit too tight.

He had you cumming for him for 5 times now, not stopping his movements any time soon, bouncing you up and down on his cocks while he admired your body and face.

Tears staining your blushed cheeks, sweat covering your whole body, purple marks adorning your body and a bite on your shoulder from the first time he came. Your sore and sensitive nipples bouncing in front of him, little begs and pleads coming out of you.

And all because you didn’t want to take your punishment like a good girl and challenged him with your bratty behavior.

You looked fucked up, not any kind of thinking behind your eyes, not even words to say, you were completely defenseless, used like a toy.

“If only you behaved like a good girl I would treat you like one. But right now you’re just my little whore to play with. I can stay here all night watching you lose your sanity and body control to me.”

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long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 4 months

Text

DPXDC prompt: Parents don’t approve of Dead on main

Fentons are geniuses but not multitaskers. They’re used to giving their all to the most important thing on the list, forgetting even food and sleep, and then going back to something else.

So when they find out that Danny is Phantom, they panic and can’t think of anything else. Well, until they see the Gotham News on TV. What does it matter if their boy’s ghost or not? He's in bad company now and dating a crime lord! That's a real problem. No time to whine about their research about the nature of ghosts. Their boy is in danger! Change of priorities, urgent change of priorities!

~~~~~

So, when Danny moves in with Jason because of identity reveal, Batman prepares for various outcomes. To the flow of GIWs in Gotham, to the parents of the boy who may continue to hunt him and even to the likelihood that Maddie and Jack will accept their child without any questions. Bruce is a genius, but he forgets to include one important variable in the equation, namely his son. Despite the anti-hero’s current status, Red Hood is still remembered by the general public for his bloody methods of controlling Crime Alley. Which could definitely bother..anyone, to be honest. And it's understandable that video of Red Hood and Phantom beating Black Mask up on news did not make a pleasant first impression.

However, Bruce himself know a completely different side of his son and therefore could not tolerate the completely unfounded accusations from Maddie. Batman: How dare you! My boy is an angel. Your son is incredibly lucky to have such a thoughtful and caring partner. Jack: Yeah? I don't think so. How do we know he’s not just going to use Danno powers in his criminal plans? Maddie: We’re taking our boy home and it’s out of the question. Batman: Yeah? And how do we know you’re not just taking him for your experiments? Danny *whispers*: Um, Jay, we should go away, if you remember. Red Hood *whispers*: Yeah, yeah, I know. But just listen to it. Usually we can not get a word out of him. A temporary cure for emotional constipation is a true miracle. May your parents stay longer if, you know, they will not try to shoot you or smth else?

~~~~~

Maddie at home*aggressively filing a petition against anti-ecto laws*: I don’t care if the parental rights aren’t over the ghosts. How dare a bloody furry tell me I have no official right to take my son home and shove my own quotes in my face calling him a thing?!

Vlad who has long wanted to get rid of GIW *enters the house*: Bonjour, need a helping hand? Jack and Maddie *exchange glances without knowing if Danny’s secret should be revealed to their friend*. Vlad: Oh, for Ancients’s sake. *Snaps his fingers and goes Plasmius* Vlad: I’m also a stakeholder in it, okay? ~~~after two hours of talking~~~ Jack: Wait, V-man, if you know about Danny being Phantom, you know about his boyfriend too? Vlad: Red Hood? How could I not. I often visit Gotham for business deals. This is a favorite topic of newspapers and gossip. I don’t know who he is without a mask but I must admit the guy has a good aim, a lot better than you, Jack. Maddie: *pulls out the Ghost Peeler*

#dpxdc #dcxdc #dpxdc prompt #dpxdc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dead on main #dead on main ship

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serotonins-stuff · 1 year

Text

3am pregggy cravings

~BNHA

_____________ ❤︎ _______________

♡︎ Bnha boys

♡︎ f!reader

♡︎ Sypnosis: You suddenly get strong pregnancy cravings in the early hours of the morning

♡︎ Includes : Bakugo, Izuku, Todoroki , Aizawa, Hawks

____________ ❤︎ _______________

_____________ ❤︎ _______________

(characters are aged up)

Bakugo

He shuffled in his sleep, while low grumbles and sniffles echoed from downstairs.

He guessed he was having a dream till the cries sounded way too real and familiar. He patted the space next to him, expecting to feel your warmth but it was empty.

He jumped up from his sleeping position in the warm blankets, shirtless and disheveled as he scrambled out of the bedroom in a panic. Concerns flooded his head but he had no time to stand and think.

Were you ok?

Why the hell are you crying?

He strumbled on various things in the dark, causing him to curse lowly but he moved on.

"Y/n!?" He half yelled, still hearing your sobs echoing through the house. The sound guided him to the kitchen downstairs, so he made sure to be cautious moving toward it.

He clutched a broom nearby, in case something bad was happening so he could prepare. Hell- he didn't even know why you were crying in the first place.

The kitchen was pitch black, although the pantry next to it was beaming with light. The alarm didn't go off which means you were safe.

He strolled into the pantry quietly and the sobs grew louder. He was temporarily blinded by the bright light but blinked repeatedly so his eyes could adjust.

And there you were, sitting cross legged on the floor while holding onto your big tummy.

"Shit-Whats wrong?" he rasped and squatted in front of you, holding onto your shoulders and looking over your features just to make sure nothing bad had happened to you.

"You hurt?" he asked and you shook your head no. "Is the baby ok?"

"Yeah" you cried. "The baby's fine"

Your face was tear-stained and your eyes a little puffy. The baby seemed fine, and you also seemed fine physically so what was the problem?

He positioned himself to sit behind you and placed his hands on your stomach from behind, rubbing it soothingly in hopes to calm you down. "Shhh," he cooed onto your nape softly.

Whatever he was doing seemed to work because, you had calmed down.

"This is gonna sound so stupid but-" you began talking "We don't have any of the food I'm craving!" You wailed in his arms.

Your husband's eyes widened at your mini rampage. He honestly didn't know where to start. "Listen I'll go get you some right now ok?"

He understood that your hormones were all over the place at the moment, so you couldn't control your emotions.

"I don't know why I'm crying so much over ice cream" you sobbed quietly "M'sorry Kat"

"Oi don't apologize for that alright?" He consoled you, still drawing soft circles on your enlarged stomach. "You've got our kid in there, and your hormones are all over the place right now"

He helped you up and guided you to the couch, wrapping a blanket around you and switching on the tv while he walked over to the door. " Call me if you need more stuff." he glimpsed back at you while searching for his cap.

He wouldn't want to be recognized by fans this late at night. Luckily there was a 24 hour convince store nearby your home, so he'd be back before you knew it.

He completed his look with a black face mask, not bothering to change out of his oversized tee and sweatpants.

"I'll be back" he stated, but before he left he made sure to glance at you once more to make sure you were ok but your eyes were glued to the tv screen.

He scoffed a smile as he closed the door and locked it. You had the spare key so it wasn't a problem. Off he was to the covience store.

He didn't take long, only about 15 minutes when the sound of his shoes and the opening of the door could be heard.

He headed over to you first thing and pulled out the food you've been craving the whole night.

"Thank you!" You beamed widely as you accepted it, already eager to open it. Katsuki exhaled a chuckle at your cuteness, flopping himself next to you on the couch and pulling out a tub of ice cream.

He brought another spoon for you in case you would want to taste some. You snickered at dramatic shows on the tv enjoying each others company.

Eventually Katsuki could feel the weight of your head on his shoulder. He peeked to the side to find you snoozing peacefully, some ice cream smeared across your lips and soft snores pouring from your nose.

He sneered back the grin that wanted to appear on his face, giving your stomach one last rub before getting you cleaned up and heading to bed.

_____________ ❤︎ _______________

Izuku

"If I can just figure this out" Izuku mumbled from where he sat on the bedroom floor, holding his chin while he stared at the various papers scattered across the carpet.

He knew that you were fast asleep on the bed. You needed the rest as your belly grew each day, nourishing the little bean inside of you.

A shuffle from the bed made him freeze slightly. He didn't want to make any fast movements that would wake you up.

Once you had stopped moving he continued, but as soon as he turned his head away you called out to him.

"Izuku?" You rubbed your eyes "You still up?"

"Um-yeah I just had some work I had to finish" He rubbed the back of his head. feeling a bit guilty if he were the reason you woke up.

"Did I wake you?" He stood up and walked over to your side, leaning down behind you to rub your back.

"No you didn't do anything I just-" you sighed, not wanting to sound silly by telling him that you were craving something at such an early hour.

"Is it the baby?" he asked with slight panic, pulling the blanket down so he could come eye to eye with your stomach.

"Well yes and no"

He raised a brow in confusion.

"This is going to sound stupid but I'm craving some food " you looked at him apologetically.

"Hey" he held your hands and you turned around so your body could face him.

"Nothing you say is stupid" he smiled At you softly. "It's completely normal to feel what you're feeling and I don't blame you because you've got a whole life growing in there" his hands made their way to your stomach.

You smiled at how reassuring he was. This is exactly why you fell in love with him in the first place, he was able to make your troubles vanish just by flashing a smile.

"I'm going to drop some paperwork off at the agency anyway, so I'll get you some by the store alright?"

You nodded.

"Alright then, I'll be back soon" he placed a kiss to your cheek. "Do you need anything else?"

"I need you to eat it with me when you get back". You glanced at his tired features, he was working hard to make his agency successful but it was taking a toll on him.

He's more stressed than usual, and you only see him for a few hours a day because of his messed up sleep schedule. He promised that it would only be for this week, but it's only been 3 days yet you've been missing him like crazy.

He misses you too. He calls you everyday from work and sends a caretaker to look after you and the growing baby in your tummy while he's not around.

"Okay I promise"

_____________ ❤︎ _______________

Shoto

He could feel you shuffling uncomfortably beside him. He was half asleep but woke up to check if you were ok.

"Love are you alright?" he rasped sleepily, wrapping his arms around you and rubbing your belly. His hot breath tickling your neck as he spoke

"Yes I'm fine Shoto" you stretched your legs.

"Are you craving something?" He asked and you looked at him in bewilderment.

"H-how did you know that?"

"You were staring at pictures at it all day, so I figured you'd crave it at some point" he rubbed his eyes and yawned "You also mumbled it while you were sleeping"

You squealed in embarrassment, covering your face with the blankets. Could you have spoken about food while you were sleeping? You could barely even remember what you were dreaming about.

This only made Shoto laugh lightly, you had such a cute reaction and he just couldn't help it.

"I can order us some right now if you'd like?" You heard him shuffle towards the nightstand, and the light from his phone blinded you temporarily.

"What store is open at a time like this Shoto?"

"There's a twenty-four-hour convenient store nearby that delivers," he said nonchalantly, tapping away at his phone "Looks like they have more than enough"

He proceeded to buy so much of the item that it was out of stock. You scolded him for that but he didn't have much of a reaction

Eventually the items you were craving arrived and you sat onthe bed together, devouring them.

"You are so amazing" you groaned in delight, taking another delicious bite.

"Anything for you," he said with a half-full mouth, also enjoying the delicacy.

_____________ ❤︎ _______________

Aizawa

"Shota" you whined, shaking the sleeping man next to you.

"Hm?" he answered almost immediately, meaning that he was probably awake for the whole time this early hour. You knew his insomnia bothered him, but he refused to take pills or anything like that because of the side effects they gave him the next day.

"Trouble sleeping?" He inquired cuddling up to you.

"Yeah I'm having really strong cravings right now" you sighed into his chest. "Insomnia keeping you up again?"

He hummed an agreement at your question, It was a bit difficult to cuddle with the little human between the two of you, but you were excited that soon you could meet your cute little chunk. Who hopefully won't cry throughout the night and keep you awake. You heard a conspiracy theory once that children could inherit that from their parents.

"Did you cry a lot as a baby?" You asked suddenly, playing with his hands that lay on your stomach.

"Never let my parents sleep a wink" he huffed, recalling the stories his mom would tell him. "My mom often called me the pub crawler"

You snickered loudly at that name "Pub crawler....seriously?"

You went silent and he knew you were up to no good "Don't even think about calling me that" he cut your thoughts off.

"You're no fun Shota"

"How would I take you seriously if you called me a pub crawler?" He deadpanned.

"I think it suits you considering you're up at this hour"

"Then I'm calling you a incubator"

Now it was your turn to deadpan. "On second thought I think Shota suits you better"

Shuffles could be heard from him when he slowly arose from your intertwined position on the bed. You pouted your lips at the sudden emptiness next to you.

"Maybe I could get some sleep if I get some fresh air outside" he rasped slowly, stretching as he put on his shoes "I'll go get your cravings from the store nearby"

"Let me go with you" you also sat up from your position but he halted you, placing the blankets nice and snug around your body while a chuckle of amusement left his lips.

"I appreciate the enthusiasm, but you need to rest"

"Party pooper as always" you rolled your eyes.

"I won't be long" he stepped out of the room, stopping in the middle of the doorway to wait for your reply.

"I'll see you then pub crawler" you smirked sheepishly before he breathed a chuckle and swiftly closed the door.

_____________ ❤︎ _______________

Hawks

He had never panicked so much in his life.

He didn't even have time to think when he jumped out of bed shirtless with pajama shorts. Your soft sobs echoing in the living room downstairs. Luckily his feathers sensed your discomfort and that's what woke him up.

He jumped down the staircase gracefully, his wings making it possible for him to land softly.

His eyes caught your figure, sitting on the couch while the tv playing in the background. He walked up to you slowly, calling your name to not scare you by suddenly appearing.

"Keigo?" You sniffled and the couch dipped slightly next to you from his sudden weight. He hooked his arm under your legs from where he sat beside you, his other arm gently making its way to your back. You couldn't feel a thing when he lifted you into his arms. Cradling you on the couch as he also tried to figure out what was going on.

He smiled softly, sensing that it was just your hormones making you feel this way. "Is nugget keeping you awake?"

You nodded your head pointing to the tv. At first, he didn't understand what you were implying till he saw delicious food being made and eaten on the screen.

"Ah I have just the trick" he yanked out his phone, typing for a while before placing it down. "It should be here in about 20 minutes Peach"

He was expecting to see you smile and thank him for being the greatest lifesaver ever but was surprised to see tears still spilling out of your eyes as you looked away.

"C'mon talk to me" he clasped your chin so you could look at him.

The truth was that you felt bad for waking him up at such an early hour just for some food. You know very well that he has work tomorrow and he has to be up early.

"Keigo, I feel bad" you whimpered. For some reason, having a baby was making you cry at every single inconvenience. "I know you must be really tired from work and I'm over here ruining your sleep schedule for cravings"

"You have nothing to be worried about, you're waaayyy more important than work," he said making sure to exaggerate the way. "And if anything you're doing me a favor, I haven't been getting much food in because of everything that's been happening lately, so thank you"

He made sure to order some for himself so you could enjoy it together. Spending time with you and nugget makes him feel unstoppable.

"Being with you and nugget gives me extra strength to face the next day." He pecked you on the lips.

"I also think that your cravings might have affected me 'cause now I'm hungry" he deadpanned and giggled slightly.

He would do anything if it were to see that sweet smile all the time.

#anime and manga #my hero headcanons #mha x reader #bnha deku #izuku midoria x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #pro hero hawks #hawks x reader #aizawa x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #mha oneshot #oneshot #my hero acedamia #plus ultra #fypage #mha fluff

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nomercyanywhere · 5 months

Text

older stepbro sukuna and little bro you

ーーーーー

knowing him for years now you shouldn't be surprised by the amount of times he's left his used underwear in your room, but for the love of you god, you just cannot

"oh for fuck sake!" you yelled, stormed out of your room and into his. your greeted by him having no shirt on and wearing only grey sweatpants that hugged loosely around his waist. sat on his beanbag playing video games while munching on chips. "how many goddamn times do i have to tell you to quit leaving your nasty boxers in my room?!" you scold him again and again but he just yawns then looks at you with an annoyed expression. he got up, then walked towards you, he leaned against the door frame and grabs his undies from your hand. "wanna tell me why you have this? hm?" no. he was just teasing you at this point. "me?! you're the one who-! " you get cut off by him "no fuckin way, it's wet, were you touching yourself? on MY boxers? your brothers? pfft- you fucking pervert~!" he laughed at your face, all confused and irritated. "hah?! i did NOT!-" despite your yells, he continues laughing. you grit your teeth and slammed the door shut.

now, you're sure you don't steal them away from it, you've even seen him throw it in your room on purpose. but, you did secretly fuck yourself to the scent of it..

ugh, you plop onto the bed and thick blankets. trying your best to calm down, looking back at what happened, you noticed that he wasn't wearing any underwearbunder those pants. the outline of his cock was way too distinct. you could even see a vein. you wanted to touch it, rub it, shove your own face into his crotch and you hate yourself for thinking about scenarios like those. the anger you once had turned into you getting pent up, squeezing your legs together, and a visible wet patch on your cute undies. "i fucking hate this.." you whispered to yourself and started to pull your undies down.

kuna always barges in your room, locked or unlocked, he did it once and your lock broke. speaking of, it hasn't been fixed yet, leaving you vulnerable to his unwanted inviting himself in.

he was feeling a bit playful. so who to play with other than his cute brother? he smirked at the thought of it, then walked to your room.. your fingers play with your clit, pressing on it gently, flicking etc. as soft as your fingers were, you wanted to feel his calloused, thicker and longer one on your cunt. you bit your lip to suppress any sounds, and tried real hard to get off, the familiar sensation on your tummy when your about to cum keeps dissappearing when your near orgasming, causing you to start over again. you were so lost in it that "you're so bad this." you didn't notice him entering your room. you jolt at the sudden sound of his voice and immediatelym closed your legs. "what the fuck?! get out!" you threw your blanket over yourself and threw a pillow him, which he dodges easily. "why? you looked so cute trying so hard to cum" he scoffs at your laughable attempt at masturbating. he crawled on your bed "c'mon, i just wanna help my~" pulling the duvet away and slid his hand up your smooth thig "poor, desperate, adorable little brother~". he grabs both your legs, "spread em" you clicked your tongue and looked away, slowly spreading your legs open.

after that, you'd always come to him whenever you feel horny and needy.

"heh, who knew, i'd ever see you bouncing on my cock." up and down you went, dirtying his lap with pre. your hands on his abs for stability. but something else felt missing, like, you wouldn't be able to focus with out it. you look up at him, then tugged on the controller. "mn.. pay attention to me.." you whined. it was attention, you wanted him to look at you and you only. "hm? acting a little slutty bro~" he puts down the controller and turns the tv off. "and here i thought you hated me" he places both hands on your hips, they traveled to your ass, he groped and squeezed.

ーーーーー

a/n: tumblr, if u allow pseudocest with f reader. u should allow it with m reader too. also, a bit lots of typos i think? i wrote this while sleepy lmfao

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #jjk smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna thirst #sukuna smut #ftm reader #m! reader #male reader #nomercyanywhereliterature

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