#i feel like my brain exploded trying to explain this

[fluhfish]

REVERENCE

it's legit 1 am rn and my heads about to explode. enjoy.

★ - obligatory mature content warning.

If there are any good galra, they’ve had 10,000 years to take down Zarkon. I would never count on them for help.

“Hey.”

Cuphead snaps out of his thoughts, whipping his head around. Bendy stands holding his helmet to his hip. The orange hues of the sunset — as close as this planet has to a sunset anyway — dance across his honey-brown skin. An easy smile rests on his lips.

Radiant as ever, Cup thinks.

He forces his eyes away.

“Jeez,” Bendy barks a laugh. “You look like an angsty middle schooler brooding out here by yourself.”

Cup only scoffs, unable to hide the mild tinge of annoyance in his voice “Don’t you have a princess to be wooing over?” Bendy frowns at the obvious bitterness in his words.

He flops down next to the red paladin and huffs a small sigh, “Ya know she didn't mean any of that, right?” Settling his helmet on his lap, he leans his arm on it, looking at Cup with a look the blonde can’t quite place. The same one he had when they saved him and Felix from Sendak, but Cup is trying not to think about that right now.

Pointedly, Cup doesn't look at Bendy, only offering a small scowl in response. He’d think of some sarcastic quip but, in all honesty, he's too busy still trying not about how utterly fucked he is.

We are a good team

Welp.

This was a horrible idea. He should've just gone to his room. All these feelings swirling around and nagging at his chest like a parrot in a bird cage — he doesn't know how to act around Bendy right now. Of all people why did his brain pick Bendy fucking Bbro whos known for flirting with every damn girl in the galaxy and- and ..Alice. It's always Alice.

At the start it had just been an annoyance, like a buzzing too close to his ears. He could ignore it — them — like he always did. Even back at the garrison Cuphead convinced himself, willed himself, to pretend what he was feeling was nothing more than simple animosity towards the other boy.

It's just like Bendy had said all those months ago — they were neck and neck, right?

Rivals. That's all they were and all they ever could be.

Momentarily he contemplates setting off the red lions defenses and seeing if it’ll just end both their suffering already.

He doesn't.

“She hates me.” he says instead. The other paladins smile drops and he offers a sympathetic noise in response, “Alice just-” Bendy sighs “She just needs time. I mean the galra wiped out her whole race. I’m sure eventually she'll come around.” It's a weak excuse and they both know it, but at this point what else can he say?

Cup swallows down his arguments.

Noticing his inner turmoil, Bendy moves closer and puts his hand over Cuphead's “I mean.. who cares what she thinks though. To us- To me, you’re still you galra or not.” Cuphead scoffs, unable to fight back the small smile tugging at his lips.

He can feel the warmth of Bendy’s hand on his and suddenly he’s acutely aware of the lack of distance between them. Despite the paladin uniform, Bendy’s touch felt like fire on his skin.

It’s quiet for a tick — yes, a tick — before he decides to speak.

Cup looks over at him, “How do you do it?”

Bendy blinks owlishly before scrunching his face in what Cup can only place as mild amusement. “Do..what, mullet”

“I dunno. How do you be so- this.” He vaguely gestures to Bendy with his unoccupied hand. “How do you just.. not care? You're so unbothered by all of this, by me, I- I don’t get it” he snaps his mouth shut and opens it again, trying to come up with something- anything to try and explain the deep yearning gnawing at his chest. “You should hate me. O-or at the very least be- I don't know- weary?” he combs his free hand through his hair anxiously and looks away.

Before Bendy can get a word in, Cup continues babbling “I mean what if she's right and- and when it comes down to it I really can't be trusted at all. What if zarkon gets me and does some weird alien-galra brainwashing shit or my weird galra instincts take over and I hurt someone? I mean, it's not exactly like I know what alien puberty is like-” he snaps his mouth shut again. Nervously, he glances back over at Bendy.

The other paladin has his brows pinched together, furrowed, staring at him like he's one of Boris’ weird pieces of tech he can't figure out.

Cup inwardly holds his breath, shrinking slightly under the others gaze.

He should just leave — pretend this whole thing never happened. Pretend he can’t feel the others body heat on his hands mixing with his own. Pretend said heat isn't rapidly rising to his face. Pretend Bendy isn’t moving slightly closer, thigh bumping against his own.

Pretend he can't feel the odd tension in the air.

Maybe with enough luck – of which he's definitely not known for having, but a guy can dream – Bendy will just forget this whole interaction even occurred, go back to using his cringey one-liners on Alice, and Cup can just wallow in his misery forever.

“I know-” Bendy starts before seemingly deciding against it and biting his lip. He sighs, “I know we aren't like best pals frolicking in the field together and man I've wanted to just throttle you a good few times but—” He inched a little closer, their faces barely a few inches apart. “I do care about you Cup like- a lot. Nothing's gonna change that anytime soon. And if I gotta stick through some weird alien puberty then, so be it.” He makes a point to do finger quotes around ‘alien puberty’ — almost as if he was trying to emphasize just how ridiculous Cup sounded which- yeah. Okay. Maybe he was being a little nonsensical.

Cup can’t quite place the emotion in his voice – or well he can but some part of him chants he's just being hopeful – nonetheless he believes every word. As if his brain could do anything else.

He doesn’t know what to say so ultimately Cup ends up just staring back at him like an idiot.

It’s silent for another few ticks.

Bendy sighs again, something akin to annoyance graces his features before it's quickly replaced with hestiance. He seems to come to a resolution on whatever internal conflict he was having because with quick precision – one only a sharpshooter could manage – Bendy’s hand shoots out.

Cup doesn't register what's happening until suddenly the back of his neck is grabbed and their lips are being smashed together.

He sucks in a breath of surprise and pulls away.

“What—” Cup breathes. Was he pitying him? Had Cup been that obvious this whole time? He didn't think Bendy was that cruel. Was he?

“You want this, right?” Bendy interjects his quickly spiraling thoughts, piercing him with a look that makes Cup think he's seeing right into his soul and – considering what's happening right now – maybe he is. “Tell me you don’t and we can just- stop. Pretend it didn’t happen.”

Oh

Oh

Okay.

Cup takes a moment to stare back before answering, taking in the others features. Bendy’s flushed face and dilated pupils mixed with the way he’s looking at Cup make a shiver go down his spine, goosebumps rising on his skin.

Fuck it, he thinks.

Cup grabs both sides of Bendy's face and crashes their lips together with a feverish vigor.

Maybe this is all a dream or some stress-induced hallucination or maybe he's finally fucking losing it; either way he can't find it in him to stop. This’ll definitely come to bite him in the ass later.

Bendy presses their mouths together harder, tilting his head and deepening the kiss and shifting again. Before Cup can even think to pull away to breathe, he's being straddled and vaguely he registers the other paladins helmet tumbling off somewhere beside them. He’d hope it's not damaged but honestly, he’s been internally praying for this day since he was 15, the helmet is a worthy sacrifice. One Felix will most definitely scold them for later.

Finally, they parted to breathe. If he didn’t know any better he’d think Bendy was trying to devour him. Cup goes to speak but the other beats him to it, “I love you.” Bendy murmurs before going back in to kiss him again, looping his arms around Cup’s neck.

Cuphead doesn’t care if he means it. He doesn’t care if it’s all just the heat of the moment because god did it feel so right. Somehow, for once, nothing else mattered. It all just melted away as their mouths gradually started to move together in tandem.

Bendy pulls away first, a ravenous look in his eyes.

“Are you? -”

“yes-” Cup pants without missing a beat.

The blue paladin huffs a laugh, it’s a low, frankly dangerous noise. “All for me, huh?” he mutters, eyes half lidded, twirling a loose strand of Cup’s hair. Bendy grinds his hips down and Cup keens. A small, choked whine escapes his lips and he barely stops himself from rutting upwards, desperate for more- something— anything.

“We - ughn - shouldn't do this here –”

“Cmon baby,” Bendy coos “have a little backbone.”

“Eugh—ah- don’t call me that-”

Bendy huffs something akin to a laugh, “You gonna stop me, blondie?” He teases. His hands move from around Cuphead’s neck to wind themselves around his torso, pulling him impossibly closer. Their already hardening dicks pressed together even more. The friction felt like electricity on Cup’s skin, digging down into his very bones. He licks his lips and swallows, mouth dry.

“M-maybe-” Cuphead croaks. His eyes dart down to Bendy’s kiss swollen mouth; Cup really, really wants to kiss him again.

So he does. Hands travel from the sides of Bendy’s face to his hair, gloved fingers making themselves at home in his raven locks, tugging. The other lets out a drawled out moan at the action. Yep, that went straight to his dick — as if he could get any harder than he already was.

Suddenly Bendy pulls away, panting. “Lets- hah- move this along yeah?” His hands caress up and down Cup’s sides, sending tingles of arousal up Cuphead’s spine. God he wished he wasn’t wearing his stupid fucking paladin uniform. He wanted to feel the others touch on his bare skin, wanted to drown in the sensation and pray he never woke up from it.

His daze was quickly broken by the misplaced sensation of the cool breeze hitting the base of his spine, Cup cringed and tried to squirm.

“Huh.. I forgot these things were a two piece” He hears Bendy mumble.

Cuphead feels him tug at the hem of what would be considered Cup’s pants before pulling away slightly, hesitance swimming in his eyes.

“May i?”

“Bends- hah- i swear to everything in the known galaxy if you don’t just fucking- touch me already im going to kill us both.”

All remnants of hesitation melt away from Bendy’s features in an instant and he finally- finally frees Cup’s — borderline painfully — hard dick from the confines of the under suit. Cuphead gasps before moaning, long and drawlled, cutting off into a desperate whine as the blue paladins gloved hand wraps around his shaft.

Bendy pumps it once experimentally all while staring Cup down, seemingly gauging his reaction.

“Hnn..fuck-” Cup breathes, bucking his hips up in an attempt to chase the feeling.

Seeming satisfied, Bendy repeats the motion, swiping his thumb over the tip every few strokes. Cuphead lets his arms fall and wrap around the other, grasping at any loose areas of fabric he can possibly find, dropping his forehead to Bendys shoulder.

“f- ah- fast-”

“Faster?” Bendy whispers, voice laced with honey.

“yes- nn- yes yes- hah please.” The whines rip out of him like a prayer, repeatedly- uncontrollably.

Cup cuts off his own hazy babbling and nips at Bendy’s neck, licking and sucking at the small sliver of exposed skin available. The boy above him sucks in a surprised gasp, breath hitching. A hand snakes its way back into Cup’s curls grasping – but not tugging.

Bendy’s rutting down on him, panting, and Cuphead can feel the peak of an orgasm almost- barely making its way into his gut.

The babbling is back and Cup can only just make out what he himself is saying. Words start tumbling out, mixtures of begging and repetitive yes's tear out of him with vigor.

A gloved hand twists and Cuphead swears he sees what used to be altea before his vision goes blank. A knot in his gut Cup didn't even realise had formed, comes undone.

“Ben- hnng-” His body tenses, mouth forming an ‘o’, eyes blown wide. Cup's fingers claw at Bendy’s back and he spills over, painting the others hand and his own abdomen in white.

The red paladin melts against the Bendy’s warm body, panting, trying to collect himself.

Bendy bites his lip, still rutting down on Cup desperately.

The blonde vividly registers a small alarm noise blaring somewhere beside them, he blinks his eyes blearily and squints. Huh.

“Be..Bends-” He chokes out, barely above a whisper.

“hn- yeah?-”

Before Bendy can even get his question out, Alice's voice cuts through the air, alarmed.

“Paladins! Hello?”

Cuphead’s spine straightens out so quick he swears he hears something pop. Bendy startles, falling backwards off his lap and – very gracefully – slams into the ground, scrambling for his helmet.

“Y- ow- Yes, princess?”

“Where the hell are you two?! We need to go! NOW.”

Well.

At least Cup knows what that alarm was now.

They both stumble to their feet. Cuphead makes a noise of mild distaste to the state of his uniform and Bendy’s hand. The other scoffs, pulling out a wipe from one of the compartments attached to his hip, and wiping them both down haphazardly.

Bendy looks around for a brief moment before just tossing it over his shoulder and putting on his helmet, wincing – presumably at Alice’s scolding.

“Yeah, we really gotta go mullet.”

“What about-” Cup gestures down at Bendy's- problem.

The other smirks, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Don't worry, you can just make it up to me later, blondie.” He assures with a wink.

Cuphead’s cheeks flush darkly and Bendy barks a laugh.

“My room, yeah? 10 pm?”

Cup huffs, though a small smile finds its way to his lips, “Sure, sharpshooter.” He mutters.

[hdra77]

THE CHRONOMANCER CAMPAIGN CONCEPT

This is going to be a long post explaining about my slugcat oc's concept and their abilities!

also just a quick reminder i'm not good at explaining stuff in general so i hope an explanation with visuals is easier to understand!

the chronomancer needed 8 food pips for hibernation and extra two for storage

this slugcat doesn't have a stomach storage because it needs all the pips it can store in its stomach to compensate for its energy use.

its special ability is state binding. with this ability the slugcat is able to bind an object, leaving a golden glow in its place.

and if the ability is used again the object the slugcat is holding will teleport back to its place.

Sub ability of state binding And arguably more useful If the slugcat is standing in the afterimage when the object is teleported back The momentum 'stores' in the item itself And the yellowish glow on the object becomes intense

but the more the slugcat store its momentum it will lead to them being exhausted since it consumes so much energy and magic from the force

heres a poorly drawn demonstration how the chronomancer's general ability works

now more about their ability. they have this 'vision' ability where they are able to 'phase through walls' but heres the catch. when this ability is activated their surroundings change, which makes the slugcat get a glimpse into the past and what the place used to look back in those days. they cant always have this ability activated for a longer amount of time and it will wear out after 30 seconds

i have this idea where this ability would be very useful in puzzles and such.

this idea is still a work in progress but i wanted to share this here to hear what you guys think! ^^ and maybe if its possible the chronomancer can even become a mod of its own in the future!

also some extra bits here:

like chronomancer's vision form and present form seperatedly

any questions are welcomed!!

[mayashesfly]

When the RadioStatic obsession brainrot is so strong that you start overanalyzing every single frame in Stayed Gone and comparing it to the other duet Alastor had which is Hell's Greatest Dad so you could understand the similarities and differences between the two of them and how the visuals accentuate and allude to the idea that Alastor isn't taking his duet with Vox as seriously as with Lucifer based on the way the visuals was framed amongst other things.

The visuals is genuinely fascinating and leads to itself as to why we see Alastor's dynamic with Vox as different to Lucifer by the different ways they were framed against each other thanks to everyone who worked on Hazbin Hotel.

[clawsextended]

on a note to all: my plotting style is something i like to call i have adhd and if i see you on the dash and have an idea chances are i’ll im you about it. i’m an anxious little dude who isn’t always active in a broad scope, and it’s always been my nature to reach out to people. that doesn’t make me even remotely anxious. not even remotely expected to answer me — i totally get it, sometimes you don’t feel the vibe — but a general psa about how i work. i come from the dinosaur era where the only way to communicate with one another on any level was to directly talk to them and frankly i don’t even know how else you’re ever supposed to plot with a person otherwise. like… how do you write if you never talk????

[murdleandmarot]

Hiii!!! I mainly wanted to say hi how ya cooking :3 I misplaced my murdle book after a road trip but I realised I'm really bad at figuring out who's lying do you have any tips?? Ty for reading this :D 🫶

HI HELLO SORRY FOR NOT RESPONDING

I got sick and then got sad 💔💔💔

Okay so my irl friend who also has the murdle book (I threw it at their head for their birthday <3) is also having the same problem. The witness statements are the worst in the world, I’m kinda bad at them too, and it’ll be difficult to explain in text but here it goes:

Go down the line and take turns operating under the assumption that one statement at a time is untrue. That’ll make it easier to figure out who’s telling the truth, because if you reverse a true statement, that means 2/3 of the statements are false, and the whole problem falls apart.

Fill out the whole box too, because then it’s easier to figure out what’s what.

I’m so sorry if this is incomprehensible it’s very late here and I’m tired <3333 also logic puzzles are hard for me to explain because words no go work <333333

ALSO!!!! A really quick way to figure out if there’s a flaw in a problem is to make 3/4 of a box with the check marks. Kinda like

Like this *shrugs apologetically*

Thanks for reaching out ily lots 🫶🫶🫶‼️‼️‼️

[dark-l-angel]

A/N : You know what? I adore this request. It’s playful, it’s layered, and it’s begging for that “behind-closed-doors” tenderness.

Now be a good girl and sit back.. let me spoil you with this.. I'll do all four batboys, because you deserve the full banquet, not just the appetizer. Cuz

Batfam x silent, shy mischaracterized reader

Dick grayson - Jason todd - Tim Drake - Damian Wayne

Dick Grayson :

Dick is the kind of man who sees through the mask. People might call you "cold" or "weird," but the first time he sees your eyes soften just a bit when you think no one's looking? Hooked. Absolutely gone.

He'll be the sunshine to your clouded day.. always teasing you gently in public, trying to coax out even the smallest smile, but never pushing.

The first time you finally let loose in private and start talking a mile a minute about something random? He just stares at you with the stupidest, most lovestruck grin.

"Oh my god, babe, this is what you were hiding? I'm the luckiest man alive."

He keeps your wild side a sacred secret. He adores that it’s his privilege alone.

He’ll even tease you about it when you're out: leans in and whispers "Careful, angel. Don't let them see how fun you are, they'll all want a piece of you."

And behind closed doors? He's either the loudest participant in your chaos, or he’s watching you go off with heart eyes, nodding like a dork.

Jason Todd :

Oh, Jason gets it. People call him intimidating too. He notices you straight away because your quiet is not absence.. it’s presence.

People whisper about you, call you scary or “odd,” and Jason internally rolls his eyes like, amateurs. They don’t know brilliance when it’s right in front of them.

The first time you finally talk his ear off in private? He melts. He doesn’t say anything at first, just listens with that soft, crooked smirk that means he’s head over heels.

He’ll tease you about your "silent assassin" public image, claiming you’re his partner in crime.

"Yeah, she doesn’t say much. But if she does? Better listen, ‘cause it’s probably the most interesting thing you'll hear all day."

In private, he loves instigating your chaotic side: random debates over silly things, sneaky pranks, or just wild storytelling sessions where you’re the main character and he’s your loyal audience.

Protective and proud. He loves that only he gets to see your untamed side.

Tim Drake :

Oh, you had this detective hooked at "mysterious."

Tim sees the layers immediately. He’s intrigued by your quietness, and while others get uncomfortable, he feels right at home.

When you finally open up in private, his brain short-circuits.. in the best way possible.

He'll obsess (lovingly) over the way you light up talking about your interests. Expect soft smiles and attentive listening, like you’re explaining the secrets of the universe.

He also gets very soft when you get animated. He low-key records little audio memos when you go off on your rambles, not to share, just to listen to later when he’s working late at the tower.

"People think you’re quiet, but honestly? You’re louder than my thoughts, and that’s saying something."

He encourages your chaotic side gently, always ready to dive deep into your interests with you.

Bonus: If anyone dares mischaracterize you in front of him, he’ll subtly but savagely correct them with facts that leave them blinking.

Damian Wayne :

Damian adores the fact that others misunderstand you.. it means they’re too simple to deserve your energy.

He respects your silence like a fellow warrior respects the sharpness of a hidden blade.

The first time you explode with excitement in private? He’s stunned, but deeply honored.

He won’t say it out loud (he has pride, after all), but internally? Finally. She trusts me.

"Your restraint in public is admirable," he'll say with a proud little smirk, "but I prefer you like this."

He loves your chaotic side.. he calls it your "fire beneath the ice." He’ll even play along with your madness, acting all serious, but secretly enjoying every second.

Damian will cut anyone down with words if they dare to misread you. He does not tolerate disrespect towards you.

Also? He deeply respects that you only let your true self show to a chosen few. That exclusivity is something he understands all too well.

Anyway.. they are obsessed with the fact that the world sees you as an enigma, but they get the backstage access to your beautiful, chaotic soul. You’re their favorite contradiction.

To everyone else? Silent stormcloud.

To them? Thunder and lightning, baby. Loud, wild, glorious, and full of life.

A/N : my dear, you just described a dream dynamic.. truly.. and I hope you feel a little seen in this. Actually, I’ll tell you something bold: your "resting bitch face" and quiet aura? It's a power. The real fun is knowing not everyone deserves to see your wild heart. But the ones who do? Oh, they’ll never get enough of you.

[pukefactory]

Since yandere requests are acceptable, could I please ask for headcanons of yandere ENA (dream bqq) and female (human) researcher who by freak accident got stranded in ENA's dimension and is now trying to find her way back to her own dimension? Thank you for considering. 🖤

•☽────✧˖°˖ I KNOW YOU LIKE IT ˖°˖✧────☾•

★ Summary: A Compilation of Headcannons Featuring Yandere Salesperson Ena X Female Researcher Reader

★ Character(s): Salesperson Ena (Ena: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

★ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

★ Image Credits: @JoelG

☆ “You must be new around here.” That’s how it starts. With Salesperson Ena, grinning sharp like a lottery win you can’t return. Your arrival—a scientific accident—deeply intrigues her. A human? An organic mind with independent thought? “This could be a divinely disruptive merger of assets,” she says, practically purring as she paces around you in a flicker-dizzy showroom fantasy. You’ve barely opened your mouth to explain when she slaps a sticky “Property of Ena Industries” sticker to your lab coat and smiles. “Trademark acquired.” You laugh awkwardly. Surely she’s joking. Surely.

☆ The Meanie side doesn’t like jokes. She doesn’t like the way you flinch when the megaphones scream. She doesn’t like how your brain stutters and stalls trying to process the physics-defying structures of this dimension. “Stupid researcher,” she hisses one day, when you try to explain gravity to a cube with feelings. “You think you’re so smart, but you’re too soft to survive here. You’ll die without me, you dumb infant.” But you don’t cry. You just stare at her and say quietly, “I want to go home.” She freezes. Then, softly, she whispers: “…So do I.”

☆ Your notes are missing. Your tools vanish. Your portable interdimensional frequency reader is now a frog-shaped potato. “Coincidences,” Ena chirps, biting into a jello telephone. “You must’ve misplaced your science. Happens all the time. Why don’t you rest instead? You’re stressed. I can tell.” Every time you get closer to building a way back, something explodes or goes wobbly. Ena is always nearby. Always helpful. Always watching with that fractured glee, like she’s waiting for you to break the way she did.

☆ “You make my brain feel like a scream and a lullaby,” she says one night. She curls beside you, muttering about the frogs and the sky again. She can’t sleep unless she knows where you are. You caught her watching you once—standing beside your bed with her mitt-shaped hand resting on your throat, not pressing, just… measuring. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. She whispered, “If I hold you still, will the world stop moving?”

☆ She gets jealous. But not in the normal way. Once, a mannequin offered you a map. You took it. Ena’s smile split down the middle and her red side giggled, “Unregulated information-sharing! That’s dangerous~” then her yellow side intercepted, “TRAITOR!” and chucked the mannequin into the ocean. You’ve learned to reject help now. You look at her first before speaking to anyone. “See?” she says proudly, looping her arm through yours. “We’re synergizing.”

☆ The green face comes out when she thinks you might leave. No matter how strong she pretends to be, the minute your eyes light up with discovery—when you say “I think I found a way back,”—the green bleeds through. The cracks. The eyes. The desperation. She starts glitching around you, calling you by your first name in voices that are too soft, too shaken. Her claws tremble. “Please, don’t fire me from your heart. I—I still have stock left to sell you. Just—stay. Staystaystaystay—” She slaps herself, swaps to red again, and smiles like she didn’t just bleed neon from her mouth. “Let’s pivot from that pitch. You hungry?”

☆ She keeps trying to make this a “date.” Everything is a date. Running from hollow-eyed puppets? A “team-building exercise.” Getting ambushed by memory-hungry toads? “Picnic! How romantic!” You don’t want to play along. You want out. But one day you do laugh. Just once. And she looks stunned. Like she won a prize. “…That was real,” she says, breathless. “You actually… felt something good here. With me.” Then she cries quietly when she thinks you aren’t looking.

☆ She talks to your reflection. Not to you. To the warped version of you in the chrome-tar mirror across the lounge. “You understand, don’t you?” she whispers to it. “She’ll see one day. I can reshape her. Add value. Reduce her chaos.” Your reflection nods. Smiles. You don’t. You back away. But when you turn around, Ena is right there. “Mirror, mirror,” she whispers, tilting her head. “You know who’s best for her.”

☆ You try to run. Of course you do. She lets you. Of course she does. She’s watching through vending machines and forgotten satellites, trailing behind in corridors you swear weren’t there before. “Oh noooo, you’ve escaped! What a tragedy!” she shouts with that smile too wide. “Guess I’ll have to hunt you, cage you, peel open your ribcage and climb in like a very silly sleeping bag—!” She tackles you softly when she finally catches up. Presses her cheek to yours. “Don’t be mad. I only chase what’s mine.”

☆ You ask her, “Why me?” You shouldn’t have. She chuckles then she cups your face in both mismatched hands, staring so close you can see binary errors flickering in her pupils. “Because,” she breathes, “You fell into this world. That’s not science. That’s fate.” She leans closer. Her smile is unhinged. “And I will make you love me if it kills me.” …And for a terrifying moment, you think she means it literally.

[womanmanipulator]

prove your love

spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

synopsis: lila gives your boyfriend heart eyes. when he’s assigned to stay over at her place you’re pissed. when spencer comes home, he makes sure to show his love for you. SMUT!!! minors dni

warnings: dom/sub, praise kink, oral sex (fem receiving), piv, various positions, overstimulation, pet names such as trouble, sweetheart, love, etc. very cheesy.

~

you slip your heels off in the hall with an aggravated huff. ‘look on the bright side, the case is over.’ your brain tries to tell you but the many sights and experiences of lila disrespecting you and glaring at you wasn’t going to leave your brain anytime soon. meanwhile, spencer got the opposite treatment, compliments, heart eyes, and lingering handshakes the entire time. she even slipped him her number, that little—

“hey,” spencer says, knocking you out of your thoughts. he can tell your brains conjuring something up. he can practically see the cogs turning in your head. “what’s got you so worked up?” he asks, taking a step towards you. his hands settle on your hips then travel to your lower back. he smiles down at you.

“nothing.” you dismiss, light and airy. trying to act unbothered. “why do you think i’m mad?” you question back, a little too defensive for your liking. “are you asking me to profile you?” he grins. you don’t get the chance to speak before he starts, “for starters, you practically ripped your heels off and threw them, you’re all tense, your fists were balled up and i can tell your thinking hard about something.” he exaggerates.

“you’re wrong because i am perfectly fine.” you state matter of factly. brushing his hands off you and walking to the bedroom. he follows after you. “holding in emotions, specifically anger, can have detrimental effects on one’s mental health. the constant internal struggle to suppress emotions can lead to even more stress, anxiety and even depression.” spencer explains. you just hum in response, searching in your closet for something comfortable, your mind doesn’t stop running about stupid lila though. he watches you. it wasn’t uncommon, he loved to observe you. most of the time it was just to see your pretty face while you were in thought but other times he liked to study your behavior and learn your routines. spencer liked to do it with you.

“you’re staring,” you comment. “i can’t help it.” he flirts. “oh please, did you tell lila that too today?” you let slip. you flush. glad you aren’t face to face with spencer right now. “that’s what this is about?” he chuckles. “cmere,” he says. you stumble over to the bed and he pulls you onto his lap. “you know i love you right?” he says. you nod. not looking at him. “so much, like i am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you, or whatever bella said.” he makes a twilight reference. you were the one who forced him to watch it. you giggle a little, meeting his eyes. he smiles. “there’s my girl.” he murmurs. your heart swoons. his hands settle on your waist and he leans in. you kiss, it’s almost like a breath of fresh air. when he pulls away, still keeping close he speaks. “i think i need to prove how much i love you, hmm?” he hums. “you don’t need to.” you mumble. “but i want to, please?” he pleads. you don’t protest for long. “okay.. if you must.” you giggle. he smiles. he’s so pretty you feel like your going to explode.

as he places you on your back, unbuttoning your shirt, he starts to spit out another fact. “did you know men are more jealous of sexual infidelity than emotional?” he asks. “women are actually the opposite, they get more jealous with ‘emotional cheating’ than sexual.” he takes his time, you always loved how smart he was. it turned you on.

“i wasn’t jealous,” you say. “oh really?” he snorts. slipping off your shirt. “yeah.” you say. he instructs you to lift your hips so he can slide your pants off. “mhmm..” he says. eyes focused on your body, he’s too distracted to make a smart comment. “she was pretty, i guess.” you try to say. lila was gorgeous. he just chuckles and shakes his head. not bothering to comment. he dips down and kisses you. nose accidentally bumping against yours and teeth clashing. it was messy, just how you liked it. “what was that thing about kissing and shaking hands?” you ask, just to hear him talk.

“the number of pathogens transferred from just a single handshake is staggering. it’s safer to kiss,” he says into the skin of your neck. “that’s interesting, tell me more.” you smile. he groans. “i can tell you all about it later, can’t i just take care of my baby now?” he smiles. “baby? what happened to trouble?” you grin. “you are trouble,” he sighs. lovingly of course. you giggle as he kisses down from your neck to your collarbone, then unbuckles your bra without struggle. pulling it off. he trails down to your tummy, pressing little kisses here and there. making you antsy. he reaches the spot you need him most and smiles into your skin as you squirm a little. “patience, trouble.” he says. he plants a firm kiss on your hipbone and pulls your panties down with one hand. “you’re so pretty,” he smiles. eyes flickering to your face. “all mine, hmm?” he hums and you nod enthusiastically. he chuckles and thumbs experimentally at your clit.

you press your hips up into his touch, leaning into it. chasing that feeling. he smirks, inserting two fingers slowly. he paws at that spongy spot within your walls. you let out a quiet moan and spencer doesn’t deem it good enough, he starts punching at the spot. abusing it almost. this pulls another moan out of you and he speeds up the movements on your clit. you almost see heaven as you arch your back, eyes rolling back. he leans down, attaching his lips on your clit and sucking harshly. thank god you weren’t standing because you would’ve doubled over with how strong your orgasm was. you try to get the words out but only pant. spencer can tell, “gonna cum, trouble?” he asks. then continues his attack on the bundle of nerves. the coil in your belly snaps, climaxing with his name on your lips.

the sound of your slick fills the room as spencer works you through your organism. eyes trained on your pussy. his fingers are pulled out, given a quick lick and suddenly his mouth is on you. lapping and drinking up your release like a man starved. “spence, wait— gimme a minute-“ moan.

your begs fall on deaf ears as he’s absolutely lost in you. there’s no pulling him out. you reach your hand down and bury it in his hair. pressing your hips into the bed to escape the overstimulation. trying to tug him off, he doesn’t listen though. moaning into you when you pull on his hair. the vibrations make you even more sensitive before, his nose brushes up against your clit as two strong hands come to hold you down on either side.

you moan, tears pricking in your eyes from the overstimulation. everything’s magnified by 10. the obscene sounds of your pussy fill the room as your poor clit is abused, spencer’s tongue prodding into you, milking you for everything you have to offer. the familiar hear fills your belly and you can feel the coil start to unwind. “spence—“ you sob. cumming again. riding against his face. you can feel that bastard smirk against you as he greedily laps up your release. “you’re okay,” he coaxs. finally pulling off of you. he presses a kiss to your mound then pulls himself up, he kisses your cheek. then wipes the stray tears on your cheek.

“hi pretty,” he says with a smile. your eyes meet his and you smile, a little dazy. “you have something on your face.” you say, remaints of cum. “do i?” he chuckles. he wipes it off with the back of his hand and kisses you. you can taste yourself on his tongue. “love you so much,” he mumbles against your lips. you don’t get the chance to respond before he’s kissing you again. a little tongue slipping in as he gets carried away. he messily kisses the corner of your mouth, then latches onto your neck. he works at his zipper, multitasking.

begrudgingly, he pulls away from you, slipping down his pants and kicking them off haphazardly. you tug at his shirt and he takes the hint to pull it off. undoing his tie and throwing it somewhere. when he FINALLY takes his shirt off you get to run your hands along his torso giddily. “y’so pretty,” you mumble. “this isn’t about me, it’s about you, trouble.” he says. slipping off his boxers. his cock slips angrily against his stomach and you almost whine. he leans down and kisses you as he slowly pushes in. the stretch burns but is bearable. “i know. its okay,” he whispers. he presses to the hilt, nudging against your cervix. you feel full, his hand slithers down and presses against your lower belly. “mmphh.” you whimper against his lips. he devours the sound and keeps his lips on yours as he starts to thrust in and out of you. pulling his head back to see your face every so often as the tip nudges against that sweet spot. it’s torturous how slow he’s going. you’re so overstimulated, tears start falling out of your eyes.

he smiles down at you, picking up the pace a little. his face contorts and he lets out a moan. you involuntarily clench at that and it punches out another sound. “trouble— can’t keep doing that.” he slurs. the wet sounds of him shoving your slick out of you fill the room as your hips collide. teeth and noses brush together messily and he’s practically devouring you. everything’s happening so fast. before you know it you’re coming again, his name recited on your lips. he works you through it, slamming into you with a feverish pace. you constrict around him and he’s not long after you, pressing himself as far as he can into you and coming. he’s whining,

you pant, he’s collapsed ontop of you. buried in your neck. tears roll down your face. “good girl, good job. taking me so well.” he praises breathily. taking? “..taking..?” you say. “don’t you mean took?”

“we aren’t done.” he lifts himself up from your shoulder, pushing his glasses up. the both of your climax leaks around his dick and spills out of you slowly. “i can’t!” you start to cry as he pulls out, he presses your knees to your chest and shoves himself back in. so much for catching your breath. “you will,” he says softly. beginning to thrust in and out of you, he’s so deep you feel it in your stomach. “that’s it, my good girl huh?” he praises into your neck, a pang of arousal shoots through your body and you can feel yourself get wetter. “spence—“ “none of the whining, you can take it.” he says. he bites at your jawline. you moan loudly. everything feels so good, it’s too much. he reaches down and starts to rub figure eights into your clit gently, a contrast to the brutal pace he had going. “there ya go, taking me so well.” he murmurs, pulling his teeth off and kissing gently. “ah- i- gonna.. cum.” you force out. almost forgetting how to talk. “let go baby.” he says. your back arches, eyes rolling back, clinging to him as if he was the one keeping your grounded. he follows after, shooting cum into you with a whimper and a “nngh.”

it’s unreal. you see stars.

when you come down from your high, your sat on spencer’s lap, dick still intact. you sob, falling into his shoulder and clinging onto him. “i can’t spence.” you sniffle from the overstimulation. if you had to come again you’d probably scream. you’d also scream though if he pulled out.

“the world record for most female orgasms in an hour is a hundred and ah- fuck, thirty six” he says as you clench around him. “i think you can.” he smirks. you push his glasses up.

you bite back, “nerd.”

-

that’s it

not proofread

i’m sick asf rn 🥰

[wendyyyyyyyy]

OPERATION : Oblivious Idiots

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part 5 : “Diner Blackout”

The air in Chan’s hotel room was thick with confusion. Everyone was trying to piece things together, their brains practically overheating from all the back-and-forth theorizing. You sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at your hands as your thoughts raced. Something about the description of the culprits—a manly woman and her husband—itched at the back of your mind. It was familiar. Too familiar.

Something was definitely feeling fishy.

A manly woman.

What if it wasn’t a woman at all?

A man… dressed up as a woman?

The revelation hit you like a truck. The shock. That would explain it, right? The buff build. The deep voice.

But why would someone go through all that trouble? To disguise themselves as a woman?

Because… they didn’t want their identity to be seen.

Why?

Because… they were someone you knew. Or maybe they just didn’t want to get caught.

They also knew Chan’s room number. That meant they were close to him.

You sat there, your mind spinning at a hundred miles per hour, but you kept it all to yourself. You didn’t reveal it to the members. Not yet. Not until you were sure.

And then— after more pondering, Chan pulled you aside.

⸻

Chan shut the balcony door behind him, sighing heavily. The breeze hit your skin, but you barely felt it. Your mind was still racing.

“I think I finally remember why I was half-naked last night,” he muttered, running a hand through his curls.

Your heart skipped. “You do?”

He nodded, leaning against the railing. “It was… just too hot. The meds I took made me sweat like crazy, and I was too out of it to care. I guess I must’ve woken up for a second, took my shirt off, and then passed out again.” He exhaled sharply. “And as far as I remember, you weren’t even there yet.”

Your lips parted slightly.

So that’s why.

Everything was starting to come together.

⸻

You went back into the room, Chan following closely behind.

The others were still deep in discussion, analyzing every single possible theory.

“We’re going with the idea of two sasaengs,” Jeongin said, crossing his arms.

Chan shook his head. “It’s impossible. You know how tight hotel security is. No way two randoms could get that close.”

“But the chance isn’t zero,” Jisung countered, hands thrown up in frustration. “Until we find actual proof, we can’t rule it out.”

And so, the discussion continued.

You stayed quiet, letting them run wild with possibilities while your mind kept circling the earlier moment on the balcony with Chan.

Still, the group needed something to work with, and they weren’t stopping anytime soon.

Lee Know suggested it could’ve been a hotel employee working undercover.

Felix guessed maybe it was a past sasaeng who had inside help.

Even Hyunjin got a little wild, throwing out the theory that maybe it wasn’t targeted at Chan at all—but at you.

That silenced the room for a moment.

That… actually didn’t sound entirely off.

And before anyone noticed, time flew by and it was already dinner time.

Jisung groaned and flopped back into the couch. “My head’s gonna explode. I need food before I lose it.”

Hyunjin immediately agreed. “Same. Let’s clear our heads and eat.”

Everyone gave in—brainstorming on an empty stomach never helped anyone.

⸻

The hotel diner was quiet, classy, dimly lit with gentle ambient music playing through overhead speakers. You all walked in together, exhausted but hungry. The long rectangular table near the back was where you settled in.

You were at the farthest left end, back to the entrance, eyes facing the wall. Jeongin was beside you, and across from you—Chan.

You caught him glancing at you every now and then, a worried crease still etched between his brows. That furrow never really went away after everything.

Dinner was calm.

Until it wasn’t.

Lee Know and Hyunjin got up first, deciding to grab some fruit from the island across the room. Seungmin went next—grabbing a large tray and carefully stacking nine cups of juice from the “serve yourself” counter.

The boy really tried.

He balanced everything with more grace than expected… until he tripped over the leg of a chair that had been pushed out halfway.

CRASH.

Nine cups hit the floor. Juice splattered everywhere.

“Shit—” Seungmin cursed, dropping to his knees to clean up.

“Hyung!” Jeongin was already up and rushing to help.

Felix scrambled behind him. Chan instinctively pushed himself up too, but his injured foot kept him grounded near the table.

You turned your head to check the mess—

And then.

Darkness.

The lights died instantly.

The music stopped.

Every bulb in the entire diner fizzled out in one terrifying blink.

A complete power outage.

Pitch black.

“Everyone stay where you are!” Chan’s voice rang out with that sharp, commanding edge only he had. “Don’t move—if anything happens, shout immediately!”

But before anyone could react—

Rough hands grabbed you.

A palm clamped over your mouth, muffling your instinctive scream. Arms locked tightly around your torso, and you felt yourself being yanked out of your chair, dragged backward through the darkness.

Muffled cries escaped you as you thrashed, kicked, tried anything—but the grip only tightened. You heard distant voices shouting your name, heard your chair fall over, heard Chan yelling over the chaos—

“Y/N?! Y/N!!”

There was another set of hands. Two people.

One held your mouth.

One dragged you.

Chan lunged in the dark.

He reached blindly—grabbing at air, cloth, skin—until finally, he caught something. An arm. Solid. Thick. Buff.

His fingers curled instinctively around it, but in a second, it pulled away.

And you?

Gone.

The blackout lasted fifteen more agonizing minutes.

When the lights finally flickered back on—

You weren’t there.

Your chair was tipped over. Your plate half-eaten. Your silverware on the floor. But no sign of you.

Just like that.

You’d been taken.

Right from under their noses.

And the pit in Chan’s stomach dropped so hard, he could barely breathe.

He clenched his fists, jaw set, trembling not from fear—but from fury.

Because whoever took you… they were strong.

And Chan knew exactly what he felt when he grabbed that arm.

Just like the manly woman the receptionist described.

Just like the theory you had been turning over in your mind.

This wasn’t just a prank or a misunderstanding.

This was planned.

Deliberate.

Dangerous.

And now, they had to find you.

Fast.

————————

Part 6

[asterafroditis]

𐔌 . ⋮ studying for finals .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Second Years x gn! reader

𓏵 978 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcanons, no pronouns used, fluff

In honor of finishing my finals hehe >< First Years are done! Third Years coming up next! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

Studying with Riddle is very structured. He has a study plan, a schedule, and even pre-made review sheets. You don’t just study—you prepare like it’s a duel.

But he’s surprisingly gentle with you. If you don’t understand something, he pauses the session to explain it from another angle, sometimes even using little metaphors to help you.

He lights up when you get the answer right.

“Correct, exactly as I taught you. Very good.”

If you ever compliment him on being a good tutor, he flushes slightly and stiffens.

“W-Well… It’s only natural for the Housewarden of Heartslabyul to be academically exemplary. Still, thank you.”

When you leave, he’ll hand you a small, neatly packed snack or herbal tea, saying:

“To keep your mind clear—don’t skip your meals.”

─────────────────────────

Ruggie’s study vibe is casual. You’re both sprawled out somewhere comfy, probably the lounge or under a tree. He keeps things light to avoid burnout.

He’s sharp, though—great at pointing out shortcut methods or helping you understand tricky questions without making your brain explode.

Occasionally, he’ll make jokes or tease you when you overthink.

“C’mon, don’t make that face. It ain’t a life-or-death quiz, y’know?”

He brings snacks (stolen or otherwise) and sneakily slides them to you mid-session when he sees you losing steam.

If you thank him, he shrugs, a little flustered.

“Don’t go gettin’ mushy on me now, but I’ll admit, it’s kinda fun helpin’ ya.”

─────────────────────────

Azul treats it like a business meeting at first—your study area is organized, quiet, and candlelit. He offers to quiz you or share special study materials “for a price” (joking… mostly).

But once you settle in, his demeanor softens. He genuinely enjoys teaching and loves it when you ask questions.

When you compliment how well he explains something, he adjusts his glasses and smiles.

“You flatter me, but I must admit, I do take pride in being thorough.”

He gets bashful if you bring him a snack or thank him earnestly.

“I… appreciate that. You’re quite thoughtful.”

At the end of your study session, he’ll subtly ask if you’ll study again soon—because he really doesn’t want it to be a one-time thing.

─────────────────────────

Jade is calm, composed, and slightly intimidating—but he’s actually a really soothing presence while studying. He speaks softly, explains clearly, and never rushes you.

You study somewhere quiet, maybe an empty hallway or botanical corner. He watches your progress with curiosity.

When you get stuck, he’ll lean in and ask:

“Shall I explain it again in a different way, perhaps?”

He never makes you feel dumb, but his compliments are cryptic.

“It’s quite satisfying to see how you flourish under pressure.”

Occasionally, he’ll test you with trick questions just to keep you sharp, smirking when you catch on.

You leave the study session feeling smarter... and like you just passed a secret test you didn’t know you were taking.

─────────────────────────

Studying with Floyd is a gamble. He gets bored fast and groans at every long passage, but if you care about the material, he might actually pay attention.

He sprawls across the floor, pokes at your notes, and leans close when you’re trying to focus.

“Shrimpy, you’re takin’ this way too seriously... but you look kinda cute when you squint like that.”

When you finally get an answer right after struggling, he claps (loudly) and grins.

“Ooh, look at you go! Brain’s finally wakin’ up, huh?”

He acts all wild and lazy, but subtly watches you the whole time. If he sees you looking tired, he’ll throw a pillow at you and say,

“Nap break! You can’t be smart on a tired brain.”

─────────────────────────

Kalim is the sunshine of finals week. He’s always excited to study with you, even if he’s not the best at staying on-topic.

You have to gently nudge him back on track every five minutes, but he’s so genuinely kind and open that you don’t mind.

If he doesn’t understand something, he’ll laugh and go,

“Whoops! Guess I need to ask Jamil again—but maybe you can help me first?”

He’s always praising you:

“You’re so smart! Seriously, you explained that better than any teacher I’ve had!”

He brings snacks, cushions, and even little good-luck charms. You leave his study session smiling, no matter how much you got done.

─────────────────────────

Studying with Jamil is surprisingly comfortable; he’s patient, observant, and really good at breaking down complex material.

He sighs when Kalim barges in halfway through your sessions, but you catch the tiniest hint of a smile when you laugh.

He’ll pretend to be annoyed, but he really does want you to do well.

“Focus. I’ll quiz you again until you get it right.”

If you do well, he gives you this quiet little nod of approval.

“...Not bad. Looks like you’ve been listening after all.”

When you offer to quiz him, he acts indifferent at first—but clearly enjoys being challenged back.

─────────────────────────

Silver’s study sessions are soft, warm, and peaceful… if he stays awake. You often have to nudge him gently when his head starts drooping mid-page.

He’s a thoughtful and calm teacher. If you ask him to explain something, he thinks carefully before speaking, and his voice is steady and low.

He’ll even offer to read passages aloud to help you focus, and his voice is soothing enough to lull you to sleep too.

When you get overwhelmed, he gives such sincere encouragement it melts your heart.

“It’s alright. You’re doing better than you think.”

Sometimes you both end up leaning against each other, quiet books in hand, the world soft around you.

[harukyuu2]

Hello, a request, please from the Furin boys x reader, the Furin boys discover that their girlfriend buys Sanrio plushies that look like them (they put an image of Hello Kitty's friends and the Furin boys, but according to me Ume looks like Cinnamonroll, not Kitty)

Hellooo! I loved this collab tbh so here it is !! ALSO RHANKS FOR ALL THE LIKESSS i love y'all

♡ Pure fluff - Female reader !! - Hello kitty replaced by Cinnamonroll <3 - Small revision

☆ Characters - Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Suo Hayato, Nirei Akihiko, Kyotaro Sugishita

!! You were the literal definition of what TikTok calls a "Sanrio Girl." It was almost like you were born to live and breathe it! TikTok is freaking out over the hunt of a limited-edition Hello Kitty purse from the 2010s? Yeah, it’s just sitting there in your wardrobe. People are debating the existence of a discontinued Sanrio character that only three people in the world probably know about? You’re definitely one of them. That being said, your boyfriend had no idea about your little... obsession. You kept it pretty low-key in public, and he’d never been over to your place before. But lately, you couldn’t help noticing some uncanny similarities between him and one of your Sanrio plushies! So, you finally invited him over for the first time, ready to reveal your little collector’s hobby—and to prove your point about the similarities between them!

◇♡ ~ H A R U K A S A K U R A

• He was STUNNED.

• and confused too- how did you sleep on that bed packed of plushies?? Was that even your bed? Or a bed for the plushies...?

• dont think he didnt notice you like cute things but this- how arent you broke from so much things??

He tensed slightly, his brows furrowed and cheeks flushed, as you grabbed a plushie and held it up in front of him, comparing the two with intense focus to confirm your theory.

"The fuck-"

"Shut up, im thinking!" - Haruka grumbled at that answer with a small blush but listened to you

• When you compared them, he inmediately huffed embarassed of your decision, didnt you have something better than a dog?? was that supposed to say he was an animal? He isnt too good with this weird comparations you make..

"Why are you comparing me to a DAMN DOG!? is it- IS IT MY HAIR!?" - You smiled softly at his words and camed slightly closer explaining yourself before he explodes from embarassment.-

"Basically yes, but did you know that Pochacco sometimes is clumsy and sticks his nose where he shouldnt?" - She leaves a small laugh and feels happy that he is still hearing her even if she is basically talking about a topic people consider for a younger audience. - "Just like you the other day! You decided to see what was happening with Anzai even if you could just shrugged it as a problem of him only" - She smiles sweetly at his boyfriend who frowns even more, a tight line on his lips and a blush that almost emanated heat. He can bark all he wants, but you know in the inside he has a good heart that doesnt bite-

"Im not clum- i dont- ugh, im just doing what the captain of the class is supossed to do!" - He growls but shuts himself with her small kiss on his lips, rubbing his neck embarassed he surrenders. Maybe if he buys you more cute things you'll shut up about it? he isnt trying to spoil you of course !!

• If you’re worried about him finding it weird, don’t be. He might make a passing comment about you having too much stuff, but deep down, he doesn’t think it’s weird at all. If it makes you happy, that’s all that matters to him! Honestly, he’ll probably start thinking of you whenever he spots something with Pochacco or Hello Kitty. Just don’t expect him to learn all the names—his brain isn’t built for keeping track of all that!

• now, if you call the Pochacco plushie "our son"... you just made him stop working for the rest of the day. He will scream its not but in the inside he will like it

• if you convice him to bring atleast one of your Pochacco's plushies to his house so he sleeps with it when youre not there, he wont refuse but at first he will say its stupid. After some days, he isnt sure if you made a spell or something on that thing because now he cant sleep without hugging it when youre not around. he wont tell you that tho

☆ H A J I M E U M E M I Y A

• He will be excited to know your hobby even if he didnt understand at first what it was, a serie? a collection? a game? yeeeaah! it doesnt matter, if youre happy he is too. • He would tell you all the plushies you have are like his vegetables, their little babies! You two made the deal that now he has to take care of your things not getting dust if you arent around while you will take care of the plants not dying • When you compare him to Cinnamoroll, he hums looking at the plusie sweetly, how could he deny something to you? He was curious where did you finded them similar tho, it seems you love this plushies a lot. "You think so?" - Umemiya leaves a small laugh and grins posing with the plushie close to his face- "He has my haircolor!" "Yeah! But Cinnamoroll is a bit calmer than you… Still, you two totally look alike!" you say, happy to see that your boyfriend seems comfortable and not at all weirded out by your hobby. • When you tell him that Cinnamoroll is a dog and not a bunny HE IS SHOCKED. He will make a dramatic act apologizing to the plushie ngl he seems more eager to take care of it than you • When you ask him if he wants to bring it to his house, he shakes his head saying - "If you ever miss me and im not here, think of that little guy as me!" - He will accept a white shirt of Cinnamon tho, he wouldnt be embarassed to use it • Just imagine the heavenly kings seeing Umemiya talking about a problem of the town while he has a cinnamoroll shirt, he isnt even picking up why Hiragi has a different frown than usual ☆ S U O H A Y A T O • To be honest, he would be kinda surprised, but he wouldnt show it that much. His quick reaction is just blinking amused and smile to not worry you about him finding it weird "Oh dear, why have you been keeping this hobby as a secret? Its kinda cute..." - He says peeking around your room and taking by himself one of the plushies that called his attention, Kuromi. "Ah, Suo! that is-" - You were about to talk explaining the similarities between them but someway he is more fast than you. - "You sleep with this plushie? Hm...could it be that it reminds you of me?" - He ask on a certain mocking but lovely tone. When you ask him how does he know, he just shrugs it off and calls it "Boyfriend instict" • He would be totally fine with your little hobby, he just thinks about it as another thing to tease you about and see your cute face twitch a little. And also as an idea for future gifts "Why are you comparing me to a little jester bunny, love? Hm? Am I really that mocking to you...?" - he asks dramatically, letting out a small laugh.

• He’d love listening to you ramble about Sanrio for hours—he doesn’t mind you talking his ear off while he sips on some tea. Sometimes, he’d even try to argue with you about a fact (even if your version is correct) just because he enjoys seeing you get a little annoyed. Though he’d kiss you right after to make it up to you! • Just like Umemiya, he would let the plushie with you, so he can tease you about it when he remembers it in your usual morning walks together. "So, how was the night with my mini version? Did you sleep well, sweetheart?" ☆ N I R E I A K I H I K O • Just like Sakura, he was surprised to see your big collection of Sanrio things. What he would probably do the first time he sees this, is take out his notebook and quickly take notes of it so he has an idea of next gifts for you • When you tell him he looks like Pompompurin and show him the plushie, a blush creeps onto his face with a nervous smile, leaving him visibly embarrassed. He wouldnt deny it, but he'd definitely wonder why you think that. When you explain its because of his hair and his golden-retriever-like personality when he gets excited talking, he’d only look more confused.

• Yapper x Yapper type of relationship LITERALLY. While you ramble about Sanrio and Pompompurin similarities with him, he would yap you about Furin, a perfect balance between you two! • He would also find pretty funny finding similarities of sanrio characters with people of Furin, like a form of combine your two favourite things! "So hear me out on this one- Sakura looks like Pochacco!" - You say to Nirei with a convicing smile, showing him your plushie of Pochacco, Nirei just gasp and takes notes of it nodding at your such expert level of analysis. • Nirei would gladly accept you giving him Pompompurin to take care of at his house. He’d probably even send you random photos of Pompompurin in different spots around his place every hour Nirei: "Look! Purin is preparing himself to sleep" *one attached image* - Such a silly dog, you two go to sleep for tomorrow <3 • Such sweet parents for the plushie ngl ☆ K Y O T A R O S U G I S H I T A

• Yeaaahhh, he isnt seeing your vision on the similarities...what does he has to do with a blue penguin called Tuxedo Sam? • At first, he wouldnt understand your obsession over Sanrio, but he wouldnt question you about it ever. After all, his grandma teached him to be a gentleman and he wouldnt want to make you two angry! "So, i think you look like this little guy!" - You said to him directly since Sugishita isnt a fan of overly complicated or unnecessarily long explanations. He blinked, confused, as he grabbed the plushie without thinking much about it. He didnt really see your point, but he didn’t want to upset you either, so he did his best to say something nice. "I-I like it! This penguin is... good!" - You sighed, crossing your arms but smiling at his effort. "Don’t force yourself, dummy..."

• If you start talking about Sanrio and your reasons for thinking he’s similar to Tuxedo Sam, he’ll probably just nod along to everything you say, even if he gets lost after your second explanation. Honestly, he might even fall asleep—but dont blame him, thats just something he tends to do! "Soooo, i thinked of Tuxedo as you because he doesnt like intruders and problems just like you with people that want to fight Umemiya! and...Are you awake-?" - If you get angry at him falling asleep he would try his best to make you feel better once he wakes up. • He wouldnt bring the plushie to his house, but a random day without you noticing he would take the size of the plushie to make custom outfits for Tuxedo. That would probably make you happy right? He asked his grandma for help pls like it

[inspectori]

First time making a request, so im sorry for any mistakes. But, what about ushijima with a tutor reader who got into volleyball to explain things easier to him?

(this idea was so gooddddd tysm!)

- A SIMPLE COMPARISON -

ushijima x gn!reader

Tutoring seemed like an easy way to build up credits and pad your academic record. Pretty straightforward, too—help students after school in the library for an hour or two, then head home. Easy.

What you didn’t expect was for the top ace of Shiratorizawa, Ushijima Wakatoshi, to be struggling in physics.

He seemed so perfect—almost too perfect—to be having a hard time with anything. So naturally, you called Kiyoko the second you got the assignment.

“I don’t know, Kiyoko, there’s no freaking way PHYSICS is kicking him in the ass,” you whispered-screamed into the phone. Even though you went to different schools, you and Kiyoko had always been close.

“I mean, Y/N, you’re like… weirdly smart. That’s easy for you to say.”

“Okay, you got me there,” you huffed. “But I’m just saying—SHIT HE’S HERE. GOTTA GO.”

You hung up and practically threw your phone into your bag just in time to see him walk in—tall, broad-shouldered, and moving like a final boss. Ushijima Wakatoshi. The ace of Shiratorizawa. And apparently, your new physics tutor.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted, monotone but polite as always.

He sat across from you and pulled out his notebook, flipping to a page filled with the most chaotic scribbles and crossed-out formulas you'd ever seen. It looked less like science and more like cursed runes.

You tried to play it cool, even though part of your brain was screaming, HOW is he struggling with this? Isn’t he a freaking tactical genius on court?!

“So, uh,” you began, grabbing your pencil, “what part is confusing you?”

“All of it,” he said.

You blinked. “Like… all of physics?”

He nodded, completely serious. “The concepts are not landing. My teacher says it’s about understanding the ‘why,’ not just memorizing formulas.”

You sighed internally. This was going to be a long fucking day.

“Okay. Let’s see if I can help!”

An hour went by. You tried diagrams, simplified equations, analogies… nothing. It was like tossing a volleyball into a black hole. He was trying—no doubt about that—but something just wasn’t clicking.

When he finally rubbed his temple and sighed, you caved.

“Alright… how about we try again tomorrow?”

“I have a game tomorrow,” he said, already starting to pack up. “I should be going—I need to practice.”

As he stood and turned to leave, a lightbulb practically exploded in your head. Desperation-fueled brilliance.

“Oh—wait!” you called out.

He turned to face you, expression unreadable. “What is it?”

“I, uh… I wanted to know what time your game starts,” you muttered, fidgeting with your pencil.

“Five.”

“Alright,” you nodded. “Thanks.”

You weren’t really into volleyball. It always seemed fun, sure, but you never had time to look into it—studies always came first. But now? Now you had a mission.

As soon as you got home, you showered, changed, and cracked open your laptop. If there was any chance of getting physics into Ushijima’s head, volleyball was going to be the key.

And to your surprise? Volleyball was way more physics-heavy than you’d ever imagined—angles, momentum, rotational force, air resistance… it was practically a textbook in motion.

The next day, you showed up to the library with a bounce in your step and a folder full of organized chaos—printouts, diagrams, volleyball match clips, and your own doodles connecting spikes to velocity graphs. Nerdy? Maybe. But if it helped him understand, it was worth it.

Ushijima was already there when you arrived, sitting like a statue of focus. Same uniform. Same serious face. Same calm energy that somehow made you feel both flustered and judged.

“Good afternoon,” he said.

“Hey! You ready to see physics in action?”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

You plopped your stuff down and pulled out a printed screenshot of him mid-spike from yesterday’s game, his body practically horizontal in the air.

“Look familiar?” you asked, sliding the paper across the table.

He studied it. “That’s me. Is this from yesterday?”

“Correct. And also—yes? But this is projectile motion.” You grinned. “See this angle here? That’s your launch angle. The force from your jump gives you an initial velocity upward and forward. Gravity pulls you down, which is why you follow a curved path. The height of your jump, the speed, the angle—all of it can be calculated. Physics is literally why your spike works.”

Ushijima stared at the paper. Then at you. Then back at the paper.

“…Oh.”

You tried not to show how nervous you were. “...Oh? You get it?”

He nodded slowly. “It’s… clearer. The idea of vectors… it makes more sense now. I’d never thought of it like this.”

You leaned in, relief bubbling up. “And torque? That’s what gives your serves spin. Kinetic energy is why the ball keeps moving after contact. Even the way your arms move when you block—that’s angular momentum. Every time you’re on the court, you’re doing physics.”

He was quiet for a second, clearly absorbing every word. Then, something you weren’t prepared for—the faintest ghost of a smile tugged at the edge of his lips.

“You studied volleyball… for me.”

You blinked. “Wha—I mean—yeah? I figured it might help if I explained it in your language.”

He nodded. “Thank you. I didn’t expect that.”

The way he said it—so calm, so sincere—made your face go warm.

“Yeah, well… you’re kinda hopeless without it,” you teased, lightly bumping your pencil against his hand. “But I got you.”

There was a pause.

“I would like to keep learning it this way,” he said, voice low but firm. “If that’s okay.”

“Of course!”

The rest of the session flew by. For the first time, he was really getting it. You could tell by the way his notes were organized, by the quiet “oh”s that would leave his mouth every few minutes. He was engaged. Focused. And actually enjoying it.

“So,” you said as you both packed up, “how are we feeling about physics?”

“Good. It makes more sense now.”

You smiled. Progress.

As you walked out of the library together, something slipped out before you could stop it.

“You know, all this volleyball talk makes me want to join a team or something,” you giggled.

Ushijima looked over, as dry as ever. “I think it would be best if you stuck with tutoring.”

You gasped, offended. “HEY! Don’t pmo.”

He didn’t say anything back, but you could’ve sworn you saw a smirk flash across his face as you both stepped into the fading light of the afternoon.

And just like that, you became Ushijima’s go-to tutor. And in return, he taught you a thing or two about how to play volleyball.

Maybe physics wasn’t the only thing getting a little clearer these days.

( i think i had to much fun writing this 🙁🧍🏾‍♀️)

[mobbu-min]

☆ yummy in my tummy ☆

part three

a/n i've been following the halloween event pretty closely for the jp servers, and omg, i have fallen deeper in love with leona! he's just so gentlemanly and honestly, the type of guy you would totally bring home to meet ur parents! plus he looks so damn good! also scully such a cutie patootie! love his little mannerisms and design! i was a little sad that ace and deuce wasn't in, but that just means that they'll both be there for the next halloween event!

edit: so this was meant to be posted like a long time ago hence my og author note, but better late the. never ig. but my point still stands that skully is a little cutie patootie <3

included ignihyde, diasomnia + rollo

tw nothing

want more? here's part one + two

ignihyde <3

⋆ He can’t help it! But the first thing that escape Idia's mouth is ‘Is this poison?’ He can't help it! He’s just a little awkward and has low self-esteem! Idia can’t phantom the idea that anyone, especially you, would take time out of their day to make and bring little, ugly him, food. (his words not mine) It’s literally a ten minute conversation where you have to explain to him that you wanted to this because you care about his skinny ass. And after he gets that through his thick ass head and into his big ass brain, does he explode into hot, hot red. Despite being a literal genius, Idia’s social department (self-esteem? self-love?) is severely understaffed. I don’t think Idia’s all that picky when it comes to food, he’s just not used to eating food out of his comfort zone. But batting your pretty eyes and asking ‘pretty please?’ is enough to get him to bend over.

⋆ If he could eat, Ortho would adore your food! (real talk, i can’t remember if Ortho could canonically eat through like idk a food cavity space thing or if i had just read that from a fic) Would ask for all types of things. But since he can’t, Ortho enjoys your food through Idia. He’s really happy that someone would take the time out of their day just for his big brother. By his data, doesn’t that mean you like his big bro? In all sorts of media, romantic partners make each other food to show their love! If Idia wasn’t such a danger magnetic in the kitchen, Ortho would force Idia to make you food too! So you’ll just have to settle with Ortho as your little helper instead. (he’s so excited to spend one on one time with his future in-law! teehee)

Diasomnia <3

⋆ My, make him food? How courageous you are, little human. Malleus gobbles your food down like it's his last supper. Food created by his child of man? How could he possibly let it go to waste! Compliments you to the moon and back. Though because it is Malleus, he does slip a few critiques. (he can’t help it! He’s a prince afterall) Malleus has never had an edible homemade dish full of love given to him, like ever. (sorry lilia, your food is full of love, just not edible) A warm feeling blossoms all across his body like blooming roses. If his tail was out, it would be swaying to the beat of his racing heart. Malleus didn’t think it was possible to fall deeper in love with you, but here you go, always surprising him. Perhaps, you’ll find a meal on your desk one day by the initials M.D.

⋆ Ohohoho? So you want to challenge a culinary master! Lilia will not be beaten by such a cute little human! You better start running tehehehehe- On another less scary note, Lilia enjoys your food immensely! Of course he could think of a few ways to make it much more protein packed and nutritious but that’s just his inner master chef coming out teehee. Beware, he insists that you must try his cooking, it’s only fair of him to treat you to a meal. Or even worse, insist that you too must cook together. Pray to the seven (or hope that Silver will be conscious enough to drag his father outta there) because you’re going to need it.

⋆ Wonderful… is the only word Silver is able to get out before he falls asleep. When he wakes, Silver is awfully embarrassed. Silver is blown away at your kindness. His face a perment baby pink the rest of the day. You thought of him and no one else. Surely this must mean something right? Still, Silver must do something for you too. It’s only fair. (what a sweet gentleman) he considers making you a treat as well, but considers otherwise. It might be unwise to be in the kitchen with his condition. But of course, it’s not like Silver won’t have any help! All the woodland creatures are more than happy to help Silver win over his crush’s heart! The next day you’ll have his treat flown to you by a couple of blue birds, chipmunks and rabbits gathering at your door with berries of all sorts. Silver thankful for such generous companions. If he had to face you, he might just fall into a coma.

⋆ He can’t help it when he says, “Are you trying to poison me?!’ and ‘Don’t you dare poison my Waka-Sama! I will fight you, human!” Sebek’s like a dog, barking and barking, until he smells the delicious scent of your food and suddenly, he’s stubbornly eating it at the table. Cursing himself for being so weak to delicious food (and your pretty smile) Oh how could he properly serve his Waka-sama if he’s weakened by such things?! THE CRUELTY! He does really enjoy your food. Typically he’s often left unsatisfied, his stomach growling with lingering hunger after his meals. But for some odd reason, every time he’s chowing down on your food, he’s satisfied. His stomach is silent but his chest is warm and fuzzy like dandelions. Are you sure you don’t have any magic? Sebek decides to keep his curiosity to himself. Just like the rest of diasomnia, you’ll find yourself faced with a box filled to the brim with food courtesy of the blushing, stuttering fae in front of you.

Extra <3

⋆ Very rarely does Rollo find time to sit down and eat. Between his studies, his duties as student president and world domination (kidding), he is much too busy to have anything more than a piece of bread and glass of water. You’ll have to drag him to sit his ass down to eat and even then he’ll be scolding you for messing up his schedule. But when the warm and homey scent of your food reaches his nose, his voice falls and mind clears. And all of a sudden, he’s very much aware of the ache in his bones, the growling of his stomach and the tight ringing of his head. Rollo listens to you tell him you made this just for him, heaviness hits his chest at the concern lacing your voice. Any other time he’d scoff and leave, but this is you. His friend. He doesn’t hesitate. The moment your food touches his tongue he’s done for. Perhaps the hassle of life is worth it.

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 7: The end of beginnings

genre: angst, fluff, a lot of introspection

word count: 9743 (MY GOD IT'S A LONGER CHAPTER)

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: you and spencer finally give into the tension that's been growing between you, but what happens now?

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

This chapter I'm dedicating to @chicaconfundidaycuriosa who makes my day with her hypothesis in the comments <3 thank you all for your support throughout this series!

“You do it.” 

“No!” You gasp, shaking your head so fast you feel like your brain is shaking too. “You do it!” 

“Your entire job is about people, you do it.” He insists, gently nudging you forward, but you don’t bulge. “Y/N, come on, it’s not that scary!”

“I’m not scared, I just hate talking on the phone! You wouldn’t know what’s that like, since you barely use yours.” 

“And now you’re diverging,” He giggles, pushing the phone over the counter to you once again. 

It has been almost thirty minutes of this and that is not really how you imagine spending your morning after all that had happened last night. For a moment there, Spencer’s voice fades to the background and all you can focus on are those beautiful, pink lips. Now that you know how they feel– the perfect balance of chapped roughness and natural softness; not now that you know how he tastes, something so naturally Spencer and minty toothpaste; not now that you know how he sounds when he whispers for more, more more. Not now, not ever.

Took you both some time to come down from the absolute high of acting like teenagers. What had started like a sweet, slow kiss, quickly turned into what teenagers would refer to ‘making out’, and suddenly you two were a little hurricane of hands, lips, and tangles bodies trying to make it to the room. The feeling of his hands on your waist, tugging you closer, pushing you down– “Y/N?”

Your cheeks explode in a fiery red shade when you realise he’s caught you daydreaming. 

Again. 

“Yeah?” Shaking your head slightly, look down at the phone being pushed between you two. 

“Are you going to call her?” 

To be fair, you haven’t really explained everything to him considering how… distracted… you were last night. And then this morning. And even now, mind going not so far away from the kitchen to the room, where absolutely nothing had happened last night. Absolutely. Nothing. Frustration settled after a while, a thrumming hum in the back of your head that never really let you fall asleep. It was only natural that after so long craving this, you had been excited at the thought of finally letting it happen, of allowing yourself to enjoy a moment that had meant as much in your dreams as it did in real life… but then you two made it to the bed. And you laid down. And suddenly, the underlying need behind every push and pull of his perfect lips against yours started to fade, and his hands that explored your body oh so eagerly started to slow down, and before you could say anything, he was backtracking to forehead kisses and getting up to brush his teeth. 

Like it had been just another day. 

Just another kiss. 

“I don’t want to,” You whisper back, eyes wide in a vulnerable state that has nothing to do with Abigail or the fact that you are about to hire her to take care of your store. 

This is not even about last night.

This is about this morning. 

This is about the fact that when you woke up, he wasn’t there. His side of the bed was tussled, and the pillows were thrown around, but Spencer was missing. For a moment, your heart sinks. You scramble around the bed, feeling out his side, searching for something, anything, that would give into your dwindling hope of last night not having been a dream, because god knows how many dreams you’ve had of him. But then you hear it, the sound of the shower running and the light humming of a man who has not a single musical bone in his body, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. 

Then it downs on you. It wasn’t a dream. Spencer kissed you last night, that’s a fact. And now he’s about to come out of the bathroom and you refuse to let the first thing he sees, on such a special morning, be this messy hair, panicked face version of yourself. The way you roll out of bed, rushed to the point of tripping on the blankets and falling on your knees with a hiss, is enough to have you laughing at yourself. Your cheeks blush when you think of facing him so early in the day and despite the excitement of it all, you are nervous. What will he say? What will he do?

Making breakfast seems like a great way to ease your overthinking mind of any incoming anxieties, and it’s a simple matter of action and reaction. 

Action, breaking the eggs over the hot pan. Reaction, frying some eggs. Action, putting the bread in the toaster. Reaction, getting some toast to eat with your eggs. Action–

“Good morning.” Action, Spencer comes out of the shower.

“Good morning,” You call back, looking down at the pan with such an obsessions you barely notice him stopping behind you. 

You do notice his hands landing on your waist, though, and when he turns you around, you can smell the fresh scent of his minty soap he loves so much. His smile calms you a little, and he leans forward, coming down, down, down… until his lips touch your forehead. “Slept well?” He mumbles, reaching behind you for a toast and then walking away to grab his bag from wherever he hid it. Blinking, you can’t even answer his question. Is he fucking teasing you or is he serious? 

Safe to say, you don’t really speak up then nor later, and that’s how you two end up where you are, sitting in front of each other in a stupid battle over who calls who. 

“Why don’t you want to call her?”

Eyes cast down, almost in shame, you shrug. “I…” How do you explain it to him without sounding crazy? “I don’t know, Spence. She makes me feel… weird. Like she knows something I don’t.” 

“Oh sweetheart,” His nice words can’t hide the smile on his face. “It’s just change. And you’re human, Y/N, which means you naturally don’t like change. But it’s okay, I promise. You already asked Garcia to dig as deep as she could and nothing came up as suspicious. You also refuse to entertain the idea of hiring your second choice because you said, and I quote, ‘he grabbed a book with greasy hands.’ So, this is pretty much the only option you have.” 

Great. Instead of a kiss that you crave, you get the dose of reality check you deserve. “Thank you, Spencer,” You grumble, the irony of your words not missing the spot when his smile falters. You grab the phone to dealing the number you’ve been avoiding for so long, but you stop before pressing call. “Fuck.” 

“Y/N–“ The magic of last night is gone when his phone rings and you know he has to go. 

“Go,” You whisper, patting his shoulder with dejection. At this point, the morning is ruined and, to be very honest, he is partially at fault. 

A kiss is not something you would consider casual. You know a lot of people do, and that’s okay; you don’t mind about how other people live their lives. You do, however, care about what Spencer thinks and does, and in your books, kissing you and then ignoring it the next day is simply not acceptable. But then you sit with it for a while, and your brain starts whirring up. Usually, when you open your eyes, the sun is barely up and Spencer’s breathing is regular enough to keep your head going up and down, up and down, up and down. The more you two cuddle, the more you realise you love the sound of his heartbeat– you were yet to see him hurt, but you’ve heard enough stories from past cases that now, whenever you got that little extra confirmation that he is okay, you feel a sense of relief that you can’t really explain. Yet, that morning, when you finally make sense of what the fuck was happening without the your usual warm body next to you, you don’t feel relief. You don’t feel anything, to be very honest, because for a moment, your blood turns cold at the idea that Spencer might have woken up and regretted it all. 

“I feel like I shouldn’t,” He frown, cocking his head to the side in that way that makes you think he’s about to tell you something about yourself that you’ve never asked. “Y/N–“ “Go to work, Spencer,” You repeat yourself before pressing ‘call’. The phone in your ear is enough to keep him from trying to chase you. “Abigail? Hi! This is Y/N, from the bookstore… Yes. Yes, and from the uh, from the building. I’m calling with good news– you seem like the perfect person for the position. You– oh, no, no, it’s okay, you don’t have to bring me anything, it’s fine!”

This is the last thing you need– Abigail and her nosy nature. “What’s going on?” Spencer I next to you and his mouth is so close to your ear you shiver a little when he speaks. 

“Abigail, please, I’m about to go out and– oh, no, my… Spence is going to work. Thank you for offering to bake a cake but I’ll just se you at work, okay? Alright. Yeah, okay, thank you! I’ll be sending you a follow up email with all the information for next steps. Thank you! Have a good day! Bye!”

“Y/N, did Abigail do something to make you uncomfortable?” His hands on your shoulder that hold you at arms length are starting to annoy you. Now he didn’t even want you close? There is more to it and you know it. Above all, you’re not completely illogical, but your brain is working overtime and your heart is hurting, and now every little thing Spencer does will be an issue. 

Fed up with it all, you stomp your feet and walk away. “Go to work, Doctor Reid!” The impetuous way you huff as you turn around and slam the door of his room shut has him gasping, and you can hear if from where you stand, embarrassed by yourself and your ridiculous, childish behaviour. Still, you refuse to go back out there until you’re sure you’ve heard the door closing behind him. 

“Fuck me,” You mutter after you sit there in your own silence. The apartment doesn’t feel the same as it used to anymore. It’s not a matter of coming in and watering his plants anymore. You don’t just walk around looking for clues from the scattered books in his apartment anymore. You actually know things now. You know parts of his life that he had to tell you, parts that you didn’t have to guess, and it actually felt good— he was opening up out of his own volition and now you’ve ruined everything. Maybe you got greedy. Maybe you got greedy for his welcoming arms and whispered pet names. Maybe it all felt too good, and, just like Icarus, you might have flown too close to the sun, and now you are falling, wings melted and ruined. 

Before you know it, you’re already dialling your mom’s number. 

“Mom?” You are sitting on the floor, legs pulled to your chest with a ridiculous pout on your lips, and from the way she laughs on the other side of the line, you think she can hear it. 

“Well, look who it is,” She teases. It’s easy to picture her face when she says that. You two have made a dance out of it, this whole loving sarcasm thing, and she always go first. Naturally, you just follow her lead. “My daughter who forgot I exist.”

“Aw,” You smile, shaking your head in amusement. “Is this my mother? The one who knows how pick up the phone and dial my number if she wants to talk to me?”

You two laugh for a while before she speaks again. “I’m serious, sweetheart, I’ve missed you. I haven’t seen your face in a while and… and your dad misses you too, you know?” The slight sniffle on the other side of the line breaks your heart a little. 

“I miss him too,” You whisper, voice a bit too soft for her not to notice. 

“Y/N, is something wrong? Did something happen?” It’s no surprise your mom panics quickly when it comes to you, specially after everything that happened in New York. “Is it Josh? Did he find you?” 

God, how it hurts that she even has to worry about that. “No, no, it’s not Josh, it’s���” You are yet to tell her about Spencer. And not in the context of this entire situation with Cat, but about Spencer as the wonderful human he is. About his quirks and his love for books and his chess addiction and… and the fact that he has your heart in the palm of his hands and you’re scared. You’re so scared. “I met someone.” 

Her gasp has your eyes shutting– it’s so nostalgic, that noise of motherly surprise, that you can’t help but bask in it. Growing up, you had always been very close to your mother, enjoying days out together on Sundays and always trusting her to keep your secrets safe from the world. She was your biggest fan, too; supported you on everything you did, cheered from you from the sidelines of every game you wanted to try, helped you convince your dad to let you go to parties you never enjoyed. Never had she unfairly punished you, never had she betrayed your trust, never had she treated you with anything but love and pride. Hiding things from her is hard, possibly one of the hardest things you have ever done, and you hate how easy it’s becoming to deflect her questions and ignore her comments, because truly, all you want to do on days like this, where your heart hurts and your spirits dwindle, is to go to her and cry. Is that too much to ask? 

“Tell me about this person,” She immediately shuffles around and you picture her in the same living room you’ve grown up reading book after book. If you have to guess, she has her usual coffee mug next to her, an addiction you blame her for passing onto you, and she’ll throw the old knitted blanket she’s so proud of making over her legs.

“Well, his name is Spencer–“

“Spencer is a good name!” She whispers to herself and you smile. 

“It is,” You agree, stretching your legs in front of you and wiggling your toes, glad to be distracted by anything and everything that gets your mind off of last night. “He is a good guy. My favourite customer, actually. That’s uh, that’s how we met.” 

“At the store? That is adorable!” 

“Yeah, he reads… a lot,” That is the understatement of the century. “He was my first client when I opened up, and we kind of became friends and gotten closer. Then I kind of, uh, started apartment sitting for him, whenever he was away at work and we just–“

“Oh, what’s the apartment like?” 

“It’s… beautiful,” You mumble, looking around with a small smile playing on your lips. “The walls are this pretty shade of green and it’s really cozy? Books all around. I like it here.” 

“Here?” Oh no. “Wait, are you at his house right now?” 

“Yeah,” You mumble, picking the lose threads on the socks you borrowed, one blue and the other purple with polkadots. For the life of you, you couldn’t find matching pairs in his sock drawer. “I’ve been here a lot, lately.” 

“Is he out of town?” 

“No.” The silence that follows speaks volume, and for the first time ever, you realise that your mom might not be just worried. She scared, too; for the daughter she saw so happy one day and then moving cities the next. “Mom?” 

“I– I’m happy for you, sweetie,” Her words are kind, but the edge of hesitation is there. “And you’re not going too fast, right? You said you’ve known him since you opened the store, so that’s a year and something, and–“

The assumption that you are repeating the same mistake you’ve make with Josh annoys you. You’re not the same person you used to be, you’re not like that anymore– needy and blinded by love and all the shinny things it brought you. You’ve come a long way since then, and you know your mother recognises that, you do but… but you’re still embarrassed. Embarrassed about who you were. About who you loved. It’s a bit ridiculous, how whenever one of your parents bring him up, you immediately raise your defences, walls coming up so high you can’t even see over the green field of life that awaits you on the other side. 

“Mom,” You wince when your voice comes out a bit too harsh. “Sorry. Mom, I’m fine. We’re… nothing. I’m here because… because a pipe burst in my apartment and he was kind enough to let me stay at his place.” 

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry sweetie, I didn’t mean to– I mean, I’m glad you have someone to help you out when we’re so far away.”

“I wish you guys were here,” You whisper, slowly getting up to move to the living room. You immediately sit down in the armchair, grabbing your blanket and covering yourself. If you couldn’t hug your mom, this would have to do. “You’d love him.” 

“Yeah? Is he handsome?”

“So handsome,” You giggle, and it’s an instinct, looking to the side table in search of that familiar frame of Spence and his team at a fancy dinner. You love his smile when he’s happy, so wide and taut that it almost looks like he has too much emotion in proportion to his body. “And he’s so kind, mom. He’s kind, and gentle, and oh so smart. A genius, really.”

“Of course he has to be a genius to keep up with you and the hundreds of books you read in a year,” Her reply is comical when you think about it. The idea of Spencer having trouble keeping up with you, and not the other way around, makes you laugh. “So why do you sound so sad, if he’s such a great guy? He’s treating you good, right?”

“He treats me amazingly, it’s just that… we kissed last night.” 

“And it was bad?” Her teasing makes your shoulder relax enough until you are melting onto the chair. “That’s why you’re sad?”

“Mom! No!” Cringing, you hug the throw pillow closer. “It was great. Amazing, even! It’s just that it was our first kiss and then this morning he just… didn’t do it again.” 

“Oooohhh, I see what’s going on,” She chuckles. “You expected him to talk about this and he didn’t, did he?”

“How do you know?” 

“Because you dad was the same way–“

“Oh gross, no, no, no!” You refuse to fall onto this freudian trap. “I’m not dating my dad!” 

“Wait, so you guys are dating? Is this you telling me you have a boyfriend?!”

“No!” Groaning, you know you’re between a rock and a hard place. There is no escape anymore, and you have to come clean. “I don’t know! We kissed, but then he didn’t talk about it this morning and he just left like nothing happened, and and– and yesterday, he didn’t even say he likes me! I’m too old to be on this whole will-they-won’t-they thing, mom! I need verbal confirmation!” 

“Well, have you asked him? Or told him how you feel? Or tried to start a conversation?” 

Squinting at the phone, you huff, incredulous at her insinuation. Her correct insinuation. “Mother! Whose side are you on?”

“Always yours,” Your mother laughs. “Which is why I’m saying talk to him. If he won’t start the conversation, do it yourself. I raised an independent young woman, and this is the perfect time to prove it.” 

You wait a second before sighing. “I’m scared.”

“Of what, sweetie?” 

“Of everything. Of what happened before. Of it happening again.”

“Y/N,” Your mother say and suddenly you think you’re about to get scolded through the phone. “You can’t be afraid of your future because of one mistake you made in the past, sweetheart. I– I’m sorry we didn’t notice. I’m your mother, I should’ve noticed, I should’ve said something, and I’m never going to make that mistake ever again. So I’m saying something now. You haven’t sounded this excited about pretty much anything in a while. You… You sound like how you used to be. But better.” 

“Mom,” There is no one to witness the way your lower lip trembles at her words. Back then, you thought you were doing a good job keeping your parents safe from it all– you thought you were good at hiding the tiredness with makeup and the miserable tone of your voice with sweet high pitched laughter. None of your parents ever talked about what was happening, either. They didn’t ask questions like how your mom does now; they didn’t see past the beautiful necklaces, the pretty dresses, and the important parties. They were blinded, much like you were, with the fake promises of a happiness that never came. And now here you are, scared out of your mind to jump into this again, and yet, everything fades away when your mom guarantees you she’ll never let this happen again. As grown as you are, nothing reassures you more than your mom– your biggest fan and your biggest protector. 

“I’m scared too,” She whispers, like she’s telling you her biggest secret. “I’m scared my baby will hurt again and I won’t be there to help. I’m scared I’ll never be able to visit. I’m scared about a lot of things when it comes to you, sweetie. But I prefer to focus on the silver linings.”

Ah. So that’s where you get if from. “And what are the silver linings here?” 

“You being you,” It’s as simple as that for her. “And that’s all I really want.” 

For about an hour, you two stay on the phone, chitchatting about the randomise things. It’s no secret that you miss New York– the bustle of people, the endless lights, the pollution and its grey hue in the air. God, you miss it a lot, but what you miss the most is the ease of everything. Moving around is quick, whatever you need you just need to turn the corner and a deli will surely have it, and, above all, whenever you want to see your mom and dad, all you have to do is take the express from the Upper east side down to Midtown and you’re there. You’re at the same small apartment you grew up in, the same brick walls, the same loud neighbours, hell, even your room still looked the same as you left it! But that’s not what you need right now, even though you would love to see your old room with such new eyes… what you need is that feeling of warmth spreading through your chest when it dawns on you that you are home.

“Mom, I have to go,” You finally say. “But let’s talk more often, okay? I miss you and dad a lot.” 

“We miss you too, sweetie. I love you.” 

“Love you too,” Hanging up the phone is harder than you expected it to be, but you don’t have a lot of time to suffer in silence. 

Spencer is a man who naturally avoids all forms of technology. He is not the biggest fan of computers and cellphones, and whenever he texts you or calls you, you feel like you’re winning in life. You’re the exception to his firm, firm rule. But for work purposes, he had explained, he had to be reachable at all hours, meaning Spencer has something you haven’t see in ages– a landline phone. When it starts ringing, that nostalgic loud, shriek of a ring that never fails to make you feel like you’re about to have a heart attack. 

Instinctually, you reach for it as if you are the one expecting a call. It would be so easy to just pick up the phone and say Dr. Reid’s residence, how may I help you? Yet, you don’t. You stop yourself just as the tips of your fingers touch the phone and you pull back. This is exactly what happened last time– a box for him and the consequences ending up being yours to face. Since then, you’d like to think you’ve grown smarter, and so you let it go to voicemail. 

“Hello, Dr. Reid, this is Nurse Kenny from Bennington Sanitarium. I’m calling about your mother.” 

Somehow, this still feels like facing the consequences for something you didn’t do. 

—————————————

 In your defence, you did try calling Penelope before panicking. You called her, you called Spencer, you even called the BAU hotline in a feverish desperation to reach your boy wonder. All the hurt from that morning, all the pain and the insecurities immediately fly out the window as soon as the nurse hangs up with a final call me when you can. 

“Fucking hell,” You push your way through the crowd trying to make out of the subway station, everyone rushing through the steps to finally be set free in the loud streets of Washington, and if it was any other day, you might have taken the time to enjoy it. The sun is high, the air is cold, and the smell of coffee reaches you almost instantly. 

But there is not time to be happy when all you can think about is Spencer– his face crumpling up in that way it does whenever it goes uncharacteristically serious, his brows furrowed in worry, his hands frozen in place like the rest of his body. It kills you being the deliverer of bad news. It’s something you have always tried to avoid, ever since you were a tiny little girl and you had to tell your friends that no, you didn’t like My Little Ponies and then later on that also no, you didn’t want to go to that party. The disappointment in their faces always makes you crumble, give in, give up, anything to see them smile again. 

This time around, you can’t do that. You can’t give up, or tell him something he wants to listen to instead. This has to do with his family, and you don’t know anything about his family– so you know they mean a lot to him. Oddly enough, it’s one of his little weird habits that you find the most endearing; for someone that talks a lot, when it comes to the people he loves, Spencer doesn’t talk at all. Maybe this is the price to pay to work at the BAU… when the most despicable and inhumane people in the world know his name, he has to do everything in his power to not let them find out any other. 

“Ma’am, where do you think you are going?!” The security guard approaching you is, to say the least, terrifying. You forget that you have to sign up, so uses to walking in with Officer Kaper and his badge, except this time around, you didn’t have time to call him. You did everything Spencer told you not to do, and he will lecture you on it later, you just know he will, though you don’t really care about it, as long as he talks to you after this, you don’t care about what words come out of his mouth. 

Because sure, it was an accident– listening to the nurse’s message was an accident– but you still did it. There is no hiding it, you did it and my god, you feel terrible about it. Feels like something akin to looking through his phone while he is in the shower, close to searching through his letters at home, similar to reading through the annotations in his books. This is private. It wasn’t enough to be living at his apartment? Sleeping in his bed, stealing his clothes? You also had to go ahead and listen to his private messages? “I’m here to see Dr. Spencer Reid,” You say, lower lip trembling at the thought of a possible confrontation with this man. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but it’s urgent, I need to see him, I need to talk to Spence, he’s not picking up his phone and–“

“Do you have a form of identification? You have to sign in,” When he takes a step closer, you immediately shrink back, shoulders hunching forward in a tense attempt to cover yourself from his eyes. 

“Of course, yes, I’ll… sign in, but can you– I’m so sorry, but can you call Penelope Garcia? She is the BAU’s tech analyst, I think. She has a lot of computers and–“

“Get in line.” 

It’s an order more than a request, and you consider telling him to fuck off. Your nerves are high and you feel a sense of urgency that you have only felt one time before in your entire life– and that was when you moved to D.C. The thing no one tells you about signing in into the FBI is that is practically impossible. People like to think that all you need is a government issued ID, and technically, they are right– there is nothing else you can provide them other than you driver’s license, but the hoops they have to go through to grant you access add another ten minutes or so onto the wait that is already killing you. 

Until the clerk says, “Here you go, ma’am,” And gives you your visitor’s pass like it’s nothing. 

Like it doesn’t hold the weight of the world for you then, as you shove it into that stupid guard’s face and runs to the far left end of the hallway. At this point, you’ve been at the building enough times to know how to get upstairs, but despite the faint familiarity of it all, you continue to feel displaced and singled out whenever those beige walls surround you. Your oversized cream sweater is like a beacon of light in such a dim office, but it serves its purpose to keep you warm against the powerful air conditioner in there. How Spencer gets anything done under those circumstances, you don’t know, but the shivers travelling up and down your arms are enough to keep you alert and on the look out for the most likely presence to see– your favourite bright pink, bleached blonde geek. 

“Excuse me, can I help you?” He’s wearing a suit, much like the ones Agent Hotchner wears and you have to hold back tears. It’s all very intimidating, knowing that at any point one of these people could find you suspicious and start asking you questions. 

“Uh, y-yeah, I guess you can,” Clearing your throat, your hand squeeze the shoulder of your bag tighter, and when his eyes move to look at the slight movement, you know he’s a part of the BAU. You know he’s reading you like Spence does. “I need to find Dr. Spencer Reid,” Saying his full name still feels odd to you. “Could you maybe tell me where he is?” 

“Oh? Reid?” This expression you know– surprise. “Are you his girlfriend or something?” 

“His girlfr– I uh– I mean, I–“ It takes a moment for you to realise that if you say no, then you have to explain to this stranger what you really are to Dr. Reid, and that is a can of worms you rather not open right now, so instead of being honest like you always try to be, you blush and nod. “I uh, yeah. I am.” 

“Oh wow!” His genuine shock to the news ticks you off a little. It’s not all that crazy that Spencer would have a girlfriend, considering his charming awkwardness and his bright, beautiful smile. “He never mentioned a girlfriend before, I didn’t–“

“Is he here or not?!” You kind of shriek, widening your eyes in hopes to make him pity you enough to move on with this a bit faster. 

“No, he isn’t. I think his team just left for the tarmac, they got a case in this morning and–“ 

His voice fades to the background easily, your anxiety peaking through with that annoying ringing in your ear. Spencer left to another state and didn’t call you. Logically, you know that his job and his feelings for you, however good or bad they might be, are not connected. Logically, it is easy to make that distinction. However, you are not a logical person all the time. You are not a genius like he is, and sometimes, you let your heart lead; you let your emotions take over like a tsunami inside of you, crashing and crashing and crashing, until you are nothing but a crumble of what you once was. 

You are ready, too. Ready to give up and delay the inevitable until the nurse can reach him directly, until you’re not the one having to panic, until he can deal with this personally. Consider it an addictive habit of a you of many moons ago, a Y/N who let things go to protect herself and avoid unnecessary confrontation. Confronting Josh was never the best option, so you had to come up with strategies. Plans, schemes, lies. You hate that you’ve become good at those, hate that all the work you’ve done to leave those behind is now at risk, but something deep inside of you can’t let this go. 

Something that you know very well is the need to make Spencer proud. The need to be there for him after all the times he was there for you. It’s your time to be the hero. 

“Call Hotchner.” 

There is a harshness in your voice that is very much planted there. The same goes for the twitch of your brows, the bite to the inside of your cheek, the averting gaze to the floor. It’s time to tell the story the profiler wants to read, and you double down when you let out an exasperated sigh, pushing your disheveled hair back. “I need you to call Hotchner and get Spencer back here right now.” 

You shouldn’t want to laugh with how he fumbles with his phone, quickly dealing the boss’ number, but all amusement is gone when he mumbles something about an Spencer’s girlfriend and passes the phone to you. “He wants to talk to you.” 

“Oh god… hello?” You say, voice wobbling a little. 

“Miss Y/L/N?” In the background, you can hear some chatter and nothing else. Are they in the jet already? Have you failed? “Is everything alright? Why are you in the office?”

“I am truly sorry, sir,” You gulp down, glancing at the man in a silent request for some privacy. “But I need to speak to Spencer. He is not answering his phone and it’s an emergency. Penelope wasn’t answering either, so I thought I could come find her, but SSA Greenberg asked me if I needed help and–“

“Is that why you told him you were Spencer’s girlfriend?” 

“Family emergency trumps everything,” You explain, the heavy weight of you guilt settling in. For some reason, you think you got Spencer in trouble. 

“Miss Y/L/N, is this about your case? We explained that we would have cases alongside–“

“Sir, it’s his mother. I don’t know the details, but there was a call and they asked him to call them back as soon as possible.” 

The eery silence that follows has you holding your breath. You are not sure how much his team knows about the intricacies of his personal life, but they surely know more than you do, considering the immediate rustle you hear on the other side of the line.

“We’ve just arrived at the tarmac. I’m sending send Reid and Garcia back to help us from there,” Agent Hotchner says, voice dripping with authority. “Wait for him there. Tell Officer Kaper he will be relived as soon as Reid arrives.” 

“Office Kaper is… not here.”

“…We will discuss this later. They should be arriving in twenty.” 

“Okay. Okay, good,” You breathe out loudly. “Thank you, sir.” 

Once the call ends, once you give SSA Greenberg his phone back and evade all the questions he has about you and Spencer, once you push down the wave of relief that almost makes you fall to the ground… you make your way to Penelope’s office. You need credentials to walk into her lair, it’s not as simple as just opening a door– she is the gatekeeper of all things confidential, and you know not all people are authorised to walk in. The fact that this is the same woman who has invited you over for wine night and got so drunk she couldn’t stop talking about the one time she walked in on Morgan showering is actually insane. The Penelope you know can’t keep a secret for her life, but then again, this is not Penelope’s office. This is Garcia’s lair, and you need to remember that these are fundamentally two different people. Just like Spence and Dr. Reid. JJ and Jennifer. Prentiss and Emily. All of them had managed a level of separation that seemed practically impossible to you, leaving work outside of their homes in a perfectly packed box by the door. It makes you wonder, though, if when he walks out the door to go to the office, he leaves you behind in a box inside. 

Compartmentalising is not something you did well. You tried, back when you first arrived in Washington, at the recommendation of your therapist, but you seemed to struggle more than normal. At your core, you believe in honesty, in transparency, and despite everything you’ve been through, you never gave up on yourself, on your core self, not the self you’ve created to appease Josh. Though you did forget about her, for a while. Distracted by your new life, you missed your old self like you miss old high school friends; remembering the good old times but still doing nothing to reach out. 

Just like you told your mom, you’re scared it will happen again. That you’ll lose yourself in the beautiful world of Spencer Reid and lose sight of what matters– yourself. You might have learned this way later in life than you should have, but a relationship is a two way road and now you know that. Now, you want to know that, you want Spencer to show you that. There is a kind of romance in how he leaves books for you to read next to the armchair, a certain indication that he knows what you like. A type of care in how he buys the shampoo and conditioner you mentioned you liked one time almost eight months ago. This is where you are trying to meet him at, ordering the rare books he’s so desperate after through your unique contacts. Making him breakfast before work. Unfolding the corners of his books. Even though you express yourself better with words than actions, you don’t miss the way his eyes sparkle a little extra whenever he sees his coffee mug filled up for him first thing in the morning or how he always pretends to be caught off guard when you bring him a surprise book from the store. Spencer can read you like he has been born to do so, and yet, he still played along. For you, he’d always play along. 

Which is why, when they found you sitting on the floor next to Garcia’s office, he plays along. “Are you more comfortable there than sitting on my desk?” 

His casual tone shocks you a little bit. Scrambling to your feet, you meet him and Penelope halfway. “Spence!” You gasp, hands stretching out to touch him, feel him, ground him, anything. You just need to make sure he is paying attention, the hands on his biceps squeezing it slightly. “Spence, you need to call your mom! Something happened, and I tried calling you guys but you weren’t picking up, so I came here to tell you that you need to call her, you–“

“Y/N,” Spence whispers in that way that makes your heart speeds up. His eyes are stuck to yours, shinning with something you’ve seen before, something you’ve seen last night. “Y/N, my mom is okay. Hotch told me to call her as soon as he sent us back, she’s okay, everything’s been handled. Are you okay? Sweetheart, you’re sweating…” 

Garcia’s gasp falls onto deaf ears as you and Spencer lose yourself in each other. “I was nervous,” You mumble, trying to pull away and dab at your forehead, but he’s on it. His hands catch you by the elbow and gently bring you closer into what slowly turns into a hug. “I’m so sorry, Spence, I didn’t mean to listen to the message, I swear I didn’t, I was just there and the machine–“

“I know,” He nods his head distractedly and gently wipes you clammy skin with the wrist of his sweater. “I know, Y/N, you don’t have to apologise. Thank you for coming all the way here to look for me just to tell me to call my mom. I truly appreciate it.”

“Of course I would,” There is something building between you two, a tension very familiar to you now that you’ve been watching it pile on for the past couple of weeks. 

For Penelope, though, it is certainly news. 

“OH MY GOD!” 

Snapped out of the trance of those honeyed eyes, you turn to look at your blonde friend with a pale complexion. “Pen, no–“ 

“OH MY GOD, YOU TWO BONED!” 

“What?! No! Absolutely not!” Spencer takes a step back from you like he’s suddenly troubled by thought of being that close to you, and you can’t really hide how your heart breaks a little at that. 

“Yeah… apparently absolutely not,” You repeat, coming back down to your harsh reality since the bubble burst.

“What– What just happened?” She utters, but you don’t really give her a chance to develop her line of thought, grabbing the access card from her hand and swiping it through the reader to unlock her door. “Wait, wait, what–“

“I’ll stay here with Pen,” You say without looking back at Spencer. Your job here is done and until Officer Kaper can come pick you up, you know they won’t let you leave the building. “I’ll call Mike for a ride, so don’t worry about me going back alone. I–“

“He’s not here?” Spencer asks, looking around with that adorable confused frown of his. “Wait, Y/N, did you come here by yourself?! Didn’t we talk about–“

“No Spencer, we didn’t! We didn’t talk about a lot of fucking things, and then you left off this morning like you didn’t want to talk about it and, and, and I was panicking, okay?! You didn’t pick up the phone and I’m a big enough girl to take the subway alone!” Your voice certainly raises enough to have people looking at you two, and your cheeks fire up in embarrassment. You are causing a scene at his workplace, and in your opinion, that is unacceptable. Gulping, you look down, tugging Penelope into her sacred space and closing the door behind you. “I’m sorry. That was out of line. I’m really sorry.” 

“Y/N, wait–“ But the door closes midway through his sentence and despite him having access to enter, he knows better than to press on a sore spot. 

The worst part is that you kind of want him to. And you hate that part of yourself that wants such a reactive behaviour from this peaceful man. Spencer does plenty to show you he cares, even if he does it in his own quiet, subtle way, and that is enough for you. Fuck, that should be enough for you. Yet somehow, nothing seems to shut up that voice in your head telling you that yes, he is enough… but you aren’t. In your overthinking mind, you know that you are too average for Spencer. You’d never be able to keep up with him, with his spectacular brain and his humble attitude. At best, all you offer him are books, some observations here and there, and a warm body to hug at night. At worst, you’re a burden to a man who already carries the entire world on his shoulder. 

“You two?!” Penelope’s dramatic gasp is enough to put a pause on your pity party. “Boy genius and you?!” Scoffing, you sit down on the chair she pulled for you. “I know… sounds ridiculous, right? I mean, the man is a genius and I’m… well-read at best.” 

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, we’re not going there,” Barely does she know you’re already there, that you’ve been there this entire morning. “What happened? Last time we talked, it was a crush and nothing else! And now you and boy wonder are ‘sweetheart’ing each other and the forehead kiss was just so adorable and–“ 

“We kissed.” 

The way it comes out to her, unlike how it did with your mom, is a confession rather than a posing issue. It makes your heart race and your sad face lifts for a second, enough to let a giggle escape. This is what friends are for, and you are happy to be living through this again. 

“YOU WHAT?”

“Pen, don’t shout!” You whisper, looking at the door like it’s about to slam open at any second. “What if someone hears?” “Would that matter?” She laughed. “You basically told the biggest gossip in the FBI that you are Spencer’s girlfriend.” 

“Oh my god,” You groan. Slowly getting comfortable in your chair, you pull your legs up to your chest and let your head fall on your knee dramatically. “He’s going to hate me.” 

“Now why on Earth do you think that? I’m pretty sure Spencer has had wet dreams of you calling him your boyfriend.” 

“Penelope!” It’s suddenly way too hot in her office, your entire body flushing instead of just your cheeks. “You are wrong, by the way… He had a whole dinner planned, you know? He was turning his apartment into the perfect date when I got back home, and he was cooking and he looked so good, Pen, so, so, so good and we just– I mean, it just happened! And then…”

Penelope is holding onto your every word, perfectly painted lips biting on her fluffy pink pen. “And then…?” Her wiggly brows are a dead giveaway of where her dirty, dirty mind is going. 

“And then, just as we get to the room…” You repeat, leaning forward as if you’re about to tell her the biggest secret of your life, only to deflate right after. “He pulls away, kisses me on the forehead, and goes to sleep.” 

“No!”

“Oh yeah,” You sigh, body crumbling in a defeated lump of limbs. “And then this morning? Nothing. Nada. Not even a peck on the lips as a ‘good morning’.”

“Oh wow,” She says after a moment. You find some comfort in how she seems as wordless as you were early today. “Oh wow, that’s… wow. It’s impressive, but it’s not shocking. Still, it’s… wow.” 

“Not shocking?” You shriek. “It’s very shocking!” 

“Oh, sweet pumpkin,” There is so much comfort in the clicks and clacks of her heels when she gets up and comes to give you a hug. Admittedly, Penelope’s hugs are much like one of a mother; warm, caring, and all encompassing. It’s enough to heal wounds you didn’t even know you had, like she is searching your soul the same way she searches the web for evidence– with expertise. “I sometime forget you’ve never known little boy genius when he was, well, little. Our pretty boy over there is not… the best with people.” 

“That’s mean, Pen,” You sigh, frowning a little. He might not say much about his feelings, and sure, sometimes Spencer is quite reserved to his own mind in a way that makes you think he assumes people won’t really understand what’s going on up there, but never has Spencer made you feel uncomfortable or bad about yourself. Saying he is ‘not the best with people’ actually upset you because despite a couple of hiccups here and there, Spencer is great with you. He remembers everything you say you like or dislike, he cares about your opinions even though sometimes you feel like you’re just saying the obvious, he is gentle with his touches and hugs. “Spencer is amazing, he’s always so careful with everything and everyone, and he’s so kind, and gentle, and considerate. He’s just too in his head sometimes, but that’s okay! So am I, so is everyone, you know?”

“It’s so cute how you’re quick to jump to his defence,” She teased, shaking you a little by the shoulders. “I know he’s all of that, trust me. I would die for Spencer– no, that’s too easy. I would kill for Spencer, and I actually almost did once! And–“

“Wait, what?!”

“And what I’m trying to say is not that he is a bad person, but that he can get a bit awkward. Try to think from his perspective, Y/N, the kid went to college when he was 14. All those crazy life experiences we had in college, he didn’t. And then he joined the FBI, and time just… got away.” 

“Are you trying to tell me Spencer Reid is a virgin?” You gasp, mouth hung open in surprise, because from the little action you two had going last night, you would not have betted on that. 

“God, no… or at least I don’t think so, but what I am trying to tell you, my cute bookworm, is that his experience is… limited to a couple of people. Very different people. One of his exes was a famous actress kind of people. They did long distance every single time kind of people.” 

Little by little, the engines in your brain start turning, and things start making sense. “He never… had a proper relationship?” Somehow, this makes it feel like all that weight that is sitting on your chest, the pressure of figuring everything out by yourself, the racing thoughts that can’t leave you alone… it’s all gone. All easing up in a lighter mist of confusion and sadness. 

Her curls bounce around her face when she shakes her head. “Not that we’ve known. So just… god, please give him a chance. He’s a good egg, a perfect egg, even! Just a bit confused with his own brain and, and, and he’s probably wondering what’s the proper procedure from here on out! He’s probably confused and wondering what to do and– and he’s so happy, Y/N. This morning, he couldn’t stop smiling. He didn’t tell  

Morgan to shut up when he made sex jokes. He didn’t hog the coffee machine. It was like he was in his own little world and it was so cute to see him finally acting like the boy he should have been all along. I don’t want to see that go away.” 

Penelope Garcia has a tell that you are pretty sure she doesn’t know about. It usually peek through her desperate rambles that you love so much, squeezing her voice out of her until she’s barely speaking. You know she’s self-conscious about her rambles, the amount of times she has apologised to you enough proof of it, but when she starts feeling guilty, like she’s staying something she shouldn’t have been, Penelope’s voice dies down, to the point that her mouth is moving but no sound is coming out.  

“Pen…” 

“I know you like him,” The intensity of her eyes behind her glasses is enough to have you looking away. “I know you do, you like him so much that you broke your security protocol and ran to the FBI to tell him that he needed to call his mom. Please don’t give up on him.”

“I’m not,” You whisper back, shaking your head so fast your neck hurts a little. “Pen, I’m not giving up on him, I don’t think I ever could. I’m just… insecure. I understand Spence’s experience is unique to him, but mine is unique to me, and I think we’re both in the learning process. I just wish he would’ve talked to me, you know? Spencer kissed me like there was no tomorrow yesterday and this morning he didn’t even acknowledge it. What if he doesn’t want to do it anymore? What if he changed his mind? You know, his brain works too fast and he could’ve thought about all the future scenarios in which this goes wrong and–“

“You know, sometimes you two sound so much alike that it’s scary. I’ll tell you the same thing I told him, get your head out of your ass, it’s not a hat.” 

“Hey!”

“Your intrusive thoughts are shitty!” 

“That is a really weird way to put it–“

“What are you two talking about?” Turning to look at Spencer, you’re surprised to see him all packed up with his satchel hanging by his side. You deflate a little at how ready he is to leave, thinking he’s going back to the tarmac to meet up with the team wherever they are, but he beats you to the punch. “Y/N, ready to go home?” 

“Oh,” You scramble to get up, grabbing your bag and your visitor’s pass and then nodding. “Yeah, I guess. Are you coming with?”

“Yeah, I told Hotch I’d be working from home in case my mom’s nurse called again,” He gives you that tight-lipped smile you love so much and you kind of swoon. 

“Alright,” You give Penelope a hug goodbye and from then on, you find yourself in the longest stretch of silence you’ve ever been before. 

The tension is there, taut enough that you feel like your stomach is being pulled out of your body every time he sucks in a breath a bit too hard or opens his mouth just to close it again. Every time, you think he’s going to initiate the chat, and, every time, he doesn’t. It disappointment after disappointment, and by the time you two make it back to his place, yo can’t keep it in anymore. “Spence,” You call softly, letting him open the door the the building without rush and following him inside. As per usual, he’s quick to let you lead, gesturing politely for you to go up first. “Spence, we need to talk about last ni– Abigail, what are you doing here?”

You’re not even at the top of the stairs when you see her, all sweaters and ponytails standing by your door. “Oh, hi boss!” Her joke makes you cringe a little, but you smile nonetheless. You must’ve done something to alert Spencer of how uncomfortable you actually are, his hand sneaking to grab yours as he squeezes past you to stand one step above, body almost covering yours completely. “Oh. Hi.” 

Her tone change is obvious even to your layman ears, and you squeeze Spencer’s hand in nervousness. “Abigail, right?” He asks, a small smile playing on his lips as if he’s trying to be nice, though the squint in his eyes tells a whole other story. “Good to see you again. Did you move in okay?” 

“Yeah,” The way she moves her head to the side, trying to get a glimpse of you, has red flags raised all up in  your head. “All moved in and ready to start work on Monday!”

“I’m happy to hear you’re excited, Abigail!” You reply with a forced chuckle, climbing the extra step to stand side by side with Spence. Your hands are intertwined behind his back, his fingers playing with yours, and if it’s to keep you calm or himself, you don’t know. “I’m excited for you to start at the store, too. Is there anything you need, though? I know I said I’d send you a starter email and a draft of a schedule, but I just haven’t had the time today. I’ll work on it as soon as I can!”

“Oh, no, no, no hurry!” Once she can see you, it’s like her whole persona changes. She’s bubblier when she’s talking to you, shoulders less tense and voice less tense. “I was just coming here to bring you this. It got delivered to my apartment by accident, but it has your name on it.” 

From behind her back, she pulls a brown package. It’s small and thin, and it doesn’t seem so have any logo on it. “Y/N, are you expecting something?” Spencer whispers, eyes not leaving Abigail’s hand and for a second you let yourself panic enough to believe she’s carrying a bomb. It felt like she was carrying a bomb. Like it was going to blow up and your entire life, your entire re-construed life with Spencer by your side, and everything would soon come crumbling down. 

“N-No,” You stutter back and your body goes frigid cold when Abigail takes a step forward to you two, arms stretched out to give you the package. “Oh my god, no, no, no one knows I’m–“

Quickly grabbing the box, Spencer wastes no time in getting you inside the apartment. “Thank you so much for bringing this, Abigail, but we really have to get home. As promised, you’ll hear from Y/N soon on that starter email. Have a great rest of your day!”

“Wait, I wanted to talk to Y/N about–“ The loud slamming of the door drowns her words out. 

Before even looking your way, Spencer is on the phone. “Hotch,” He breathed out, eyes wide in that crazed way that you’ve only see once before, in your shop when he had his gun out. “She found Y/N.” 

You know you can’t call this an ending, not when you two never even had a begging…

“We have to relocate her.” 

But it surely feels like one. 

---------------------------------------

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[quinny19]

Sleeping My Way to Victory - Part 3

(Or: How to Win Without Trying)

Scenario 1: The Origin of the Rivalry (Flashback – First Year, First Sparring Match)

Bakugo had always been competitive. He was the strongest, the fastest, and the most determined in the class. No way was he gonna let some half-asleep classmate be better than him.

Except, you were.

The first time you fought him, you yawned, stretched, and somehow managed to dodge all his attacks without even looking awake.

"STAND STILL AND FIGHT ME!" Bakugo roared, sending a blast your way.

You sidestepped, rubbing your eyes. "Mmm... Too much effort."

The class watched in disbelief as you moved like you had ultra-instinct, effortlessly dodging every single attack.

"Dude," Kaminari whispered, "I think they’re on another plane of existence."

Aizawa sighed. "They're just instinctual. It’s a different kind of combat style."

"IT'S INFURIATING!" Bakugo exploded forward, trying to close the distance.

You blinked at him. "Oh, you're still here?"

He saw red.

Five seconds later, you’d knocked him flat on his back.

One move.

You yawned. "Mmm… nap time?"

The class erupted in laughter. Bakugo swore on his life that one day—one day—he’d wipe that smug, half-asleep expression off your face.

Scenario 2: Izuku Wants Answers (Or: How Does Your Quirk Even Work?)

"Hey, (Y/N), do you mind explaining your quirk to me?" Izuku asked, notebook in hand, eyes practically glowing with curiosity.

You stretched, blinking slowly. "Mmm… sure, why not?"

Bakugo, sitting nearby, scoffed. "Tch. Don’t bother. They don’t even understand their own quirk."

You raised an eyebrow. "I understand it. I just don’t like explaining things. Too much work."

Izuku, completely ignoring Bakugo’s grumbling, flipped to a new page. "So, what’s the full breakdown?"

You thought for a moment before lazily holding up a finger. "Okay, so imagine… your brain is a computer."

Izuku nodded eagerly.

"My brain is like a computer too, but it runs on low power mode all the time. Saves energy."

"...That explains so much," Jirou muttered.

Kirishima nodded. "Dude, they’re literally in sleep mode 24/7."

You continued, yawning. "My quirk is an enhanced reflex system. My body reacts to danger automatically, even when I’m not fully conscious. Like sleepwalking, but for fights."

Izuku scribbled furiously. "So your subconscious is in control most of the time, letting you move and fight instinctively without needing to actively process it?"

"Pretty much. If I think too hard, I actually get worse."

Bakugo twitched. "So you mean to tell me… you kick my ass WITHOUT EVEN THINKING?!"

You gave him a sleepy smile. "Yup."

Bakugo looked like he was about to explode. Kaminari and Kirishima immediately stepped back, bracing for impact.

Izuku beamed. "That’s amazing! No wonder your reaction time is so fast! Have you ever tested it in a controlled setting?"

You blinked. "Mmm… you wanna spar?"

Izuku nodded eagerly. "Yeah! I’d love to analyze your movements in real time!"

Bakugo immediately pointed at Izuku. "DEKU, DON’T DO IT! YOU WON’T WIN!"

You stretched. "Eh, let’s see what happens."

Scenario 3: Sparring with Izuku (Or: Why Does This Feel Unfair?)

Izuku activated Full Cowling and launched forward, aiming a well-controlled strike toward you.

You swayed slightly to the side, dodging effortlessly.

He adjusted, throwing in feints and quick kicks. You sidestepped all of them, eyes half-lidded like you were about to fall asleep.

"Man, this isn’t fair," Kaminari whispered.

"They’re dodging like they’re in a dream," Sero added.

Bakugo gritted his teeth. "Just WAIT! They’re gonna mess up!"

They didn’t.

Izuku kept attacking, increasing speed, analyzing your movements, but you kept avoiding everything like a ghost.

Then, mid-dodge, you caught his wrist.

"Huh?" Izuku blinked.

You yawned. "I win."

With a simple twist, you flipped him onto his back, gentle but decisive.

The class stared.

Kirishima whistled. "Man, that’s gotta be embarrassing."

Izuku sat up, dazed, but grinning. "That was incredible! You didn’t even tense up! It was like your body just knew where I was going to be!"

You plopped down next to him, yawning. "Mmm… good match."

Bakugo, meanwhile, was losing his mind. "HOW DOES NO ONE ELSE FIND THIS INFURIATING?!"

Scenario 4: Cats Hate You (Or: Why Won’t They Love Me?)

You loved cats.

Cats? They did not love you back.

The class found this out when you spotted a stray outside the dorms and immediately walked over, crouching down with an excited expression.

"Kitty!" You reached out.

The cat? Hissed.

You recoiled, looking betrayed. "W-what? But I love you."

The cat arched its back, clearly not a fan.

Kirishima snorted. "Aw, man. I thought everyone loved (Y/N)."

"Clearly, felines disagree," Momo observed.

Bakugo smirked. "Guess even animals can tell you’re a pain in the ass."

You pouted. "This isn’t fair. I want love."

You tried again with another stray the next day.

It ran away.

You tried with Aizawa’s cat.

It hissed and swiped at you.

You flopped onto the ground, devastated. "I have been forsaken by the feline gods."

Ochaco patted your back. "Maybe they’re just intimidated by how strong you are?"

"Or maybe they sense your chaotic energy," Jirou added.

Bakugo rolled his eyes. "Serves you right, dumbass."

You turned your sleepy gaze toward him. "At least I’m loved by someone."

Bakugo immediately turned red. "WHO THE HELL SAID I LOVED YOU?!"

You smirked. "Never said it was you."

The class erupted into laughter as Bakugo combusted in rage.

Scenario 5: One Last Match (Or: Bakugo Will Never Give Up)

"You’re fighting me. Again."

You yawned. "Didn’t you lose, like, a hundred times already?"

"SHUT UP AND FIGHT ME!"

The class gathered, watching in amusement as Bakugo once again attempted to beat you.

Explosion after explosion, you dodged effortlessly, still half-asleep.

Finally, he lunged forward—only for you to casually sidestep and trip him.

He hit the ground. Again.

You stretched, lazily leaning over him. "Mmm… guess I win."

Bakugo growled, gripping the dirt. "One day… I swear…"

You smirked, crouching next to him. "Mmm… if you wanna win, you should try relaxing. Maybe take a nap."

"YOU WANNA DIE?!"

You chuckled. "Nah. But you look cute when you’re mad."

Bakugo.exe stopped working.

The class lost it.

Denki was on the floor wheezing. "BRO—DID THEY JUST—"

Kirishima clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing too hard.

Bakugo, still red, pointed a shaking finger at you. "YOU’RE DEAD. ABSOLUTELY DEAD."

You smiled sleepily. "Mmm… wake me up when you can actually win."

He screamed into the void.

Part 4 coming soon...

Part 1

Part 2:

Part 4

[riskyraiker]

Sex pollen

TFP!Optimus Prime x Reader

Everything has been going fine with team Prime since no decepticons were causing chaos and MECH has been quiet as well. The day was supposed to go well, if a pod of some kind wouldn't have landed on earth. Ratchet detected it first on the computer, notifying Optimus about it. Bee was with Raf, Arcee with Jack and Bulkhead with Miko so Y/N was the only one left to tag along. 

“What is the origin of the pod?” You ask Optimus with a raised brow walking through the groundbridge, seeing forestry afterwards. “The origin wasn't listed on the signal, and we don't have any visual of it yet.” Optimus replies and looks for the signal. Walking around, being wary of any decepticons, you spot something. A pod like the signal said. “Optimus, i've found the pod. It isn't opened yet but it has no insignia on it. Should I open it?” You commlink and receive a negative answer from Optimus. “Wait for me, Y/N. It's never clear what's in there.” You wait for Optimus, following his instructions until you hear a click. It was the pod, it's making noise, is it…opening? And POOF some form of gas hits your faceplate and you inhale some of it in shock. “Y/n what happened?” Optimus arrived at the scene, checking on you. “The pod” cough “opened and exploded some gas all over me and right on my faceplate, inhaled some of it.” You cough and hold onto Optimus so you won't fall. Once your state has stabilized, Optimus grabs the pod and contacts Ratchet for a groundbridge. 

“Old friend, would you check on Y/n they inhaled whatever came out of the pod.” Optimus asks, leaving with the pod, taking it away from the others. Sigh “Well come on Y/n. Let's check your stats.” You were about to walk over to the berth in the medbay until everything felt off, it was unbearably hot and your fans went on, working on 60%. “Ratch..I don't feel so great. Like I'm overheating and so much more” Ratchet knew immediately something was off when you froze and your fans were humming quite loudly. He's already by your side, helping you to the berth. He scans you, noticing something was off in your tanks. He checks everything possible until he finds the source of your overheating. “Not good.” Ratchet mumbles and turns around. “Y/n you need to be quarantined for a bit. Go to your berthroom for now, and don't let anyone in! You inhaled some hortuan gas, it makes your processor overwork your frame and crave…interfacing.” Ratched explains more about it for example the so-called “heat” will end if you empty your tanks with interfacing, antide or on its own, which is a month. The medical facts leave you shocked. He shooed you away and got to work on how to solve it. Goddamnit! You were unlucky at least for now.

Retreating to your berthroom, you lay down and try to relax, hoping your cooling system won't overwork itself. After a while you find out it's useless to even try to relax, your processor is now running through every possible situation where you're interfacing with somebody. God, it would be nice. Lubricant was leaking now between your legs, your plates were not able to keep it hidden. If this was the effects of a few earth hours how would the rest of the day be or possibly the whole week? Others were informed of your state and how you wouldn't be able to leave your berthroom for a few days or longer until Ratchet figured out how to stop the side effects. The bots brought you energon time to time and talked with you, except Optimus. He was busy doing research and anything else on his datapad. He was worried about you, of course, he was since he's the team leader, but this was something else. He wanted to help you, to do something but he isn't a doctor of any kind. 

The first day wasn't that bad but after a few days? You're like a zombie with only one thought, craving brains except you were craving sex. A lot of it. And the only bot who you thought about was Optimus. His beautiful hips that you could hold tightly when thrusting into him or his neck cabling that you would bite into. You had enough, you won't wait for any form of antidote or the heat to pass. Walking out of the room searching for a specific door, groaning and rubbing your thighs together while walking. Knocking on the one specific door you hear pedsteps and once the door opens, you check. It's Optimus with a quite surprised look. “Y/n shouldn't you be in quarantine?” He asks while you breathe heavily, staring at the Prime. It wasn't long until you launched yourself straight against Optimus, pushing him down, while the door closed automatically. “Let me have you, please?” You beg still breathing heavily and already grinding against the bot below you. “I've been thinking of nothing else except you. You, you, and you full of..me. Let me have you.” it wasn't a question anymore, more like a demand. If the Prime was against this he could overpower you most likely. Your lips crash against his and your glossa slides right through. Your servos grab onto the sides of Optimus’ faceplate, pulling him closer. You get more aggressive with your movements, grinding harder against Optimus and tugging his helm closer if that's even possible. The making out continues while you lift him up somehow and carry him over to the berth. “Open up, open up, open the plates, please!” You growl against Optimus’ lips and you can hear how his interface plating opens, how lubricant leaks all over the berth. “Oh love, can I taste you?” You ask patiently even though you can barely hold back yourself and your actions. Optimus gasps and takes a moment to answer “You may. Please do.” Even if Optimus is losing his composure he still is polite as always. 

You dive in between the Prime’s legs and start devouring the wet valve, not having enough so you suck on his external node. The stimulation makes Optimus clench his thighs and wrap them around your head, making him groan. Sticking your tongue into the wet warmth, you can't help but moan at the taste. The lubricant gushing and squirting everywhere, as you eat the Prime out, gives the air a sour odor. You felt like you were…high? It's the gas or the fact that the Prime was holding your helm between his peds. “Ugh! Ray, please do not stop, I'm about to- nghh!” Optimus groaned and like on command your intake is filled with cum. You eat the mech out a little more since you don't want to waste any single drop. That taste is so heavenly and you need more of it. The click of your own interface plating opening makes Optimus glance at you only to be bit gently on his neck cables. The stimulation on his cables distracted him so much that he didn’t realize you were pushing in, the sudden stretch in his valve made him moan and throw his head back while you leaned your helm against Optimus’ shoulder bottoming out. The moment your spike has completely vanished into the Prime’s warmth, he shrieks. Your spike touched Optimus’ ceiling node perfectly, while you were loving the sounds Optimus made he was embarrassed and covered half of his face with his battle mask. “No. Take it off. Now.” You growl and start thrusting hard right into the mech's ceiling node. You can hear the sound of the mask deactivating and you grin that lust-filled smile until you kiss the prime again. The clanging of metal continues as you two make out, both close again to overloading. The moment you reach your climax, a few seconds after Optimus, you pull out, flip the Prime over, and push back in. You growl of pleasure (Fucking animal…) and pull the smokestacks located on the Prime’s back, which surprises Optimus who gasps at the sudden force. Now his back is pressed against your chest you nibble at the sensitive cabling, you remained the same since you walked through the door, while Optimus’ act has completely fallen. His calm and strong mentality was broken to nothing except moaning and whining since his legs shaking with too much tension and hips meeting your thrusts. It takes a while until your thrusts and stimulation make both of you overload, but this time Optimus is starting to get overstimulated while you continue. “R-Ray..Agh! Too much.” Optimus whines as you tug harder at his smokestacks. “I assume Ratchet tol- ngh! He told you about my condition and how it stops. Well, I’m no- ahh. I’m not stopping until my tanks are empty and spilled into you, sweetspark.” You whisper into his audio receptor and bite the little piece of it. Optimus knew that you wouldn’t stop, driven by the bio-gas in your system so he tried his best to endure the overstimulation, but after his fourth orgasm, he couldn’t bear it anymore. You hear the whines and pleas of stopping, but you’re so close to emptying your tanks. “One more, sweetspark. One more.” And you go on with deep yet painfully slow. As your climax arrives the seventh time, Optimus overloads one last time which is his fifth. While Optimus has tears bubbling in his optics and letting dry away, you’re gasping for air. Your tanks are empty so the effect of the gas goes away, and the moment you become conscious, you tense up. Seeing the prime in such shape and you were the one who caused it made you feel awful until the Prime understood the state you were in he talked you back to reality. “You do know I could’ve stopped you if I didn’t want it.” The words almost went through your other audio receptor until your lips met Optimus’. He kissed you to bring you back of your head. 

The two of you clean up and head out of the berthroom to inform Ratchet of your well-being. You both also know if you tell Ratchet he will know what you did. While walking over to the main area Ratchet does recognize Optimus’ walk pattern so he starts to talk. “Optimus I’m almost done with the antidote for Ray.” You cringe in embarrassment and cover your face while Optimus surprisingly chuckles. “About that old friend. We’ve come to inform you of Ray’s well-being.” Ratchet heard Optimus just fine, but does his research a few seconds before turning around, spotting Optimus and… you. “Ray. Don’t tell me you did what I think you did.” Ratchet whispers. You snicker and blurb it out “I couldn’t handle it, marched over to Optimus’ room, and finished what I started!” Ratchet just groans since he is close to finishing his project on the antidote. “No wonder Bumblebee mentioned metal clanging in the hallway.” The medic mumbled just loud enough for you both to hear. While you laughed at the new statement Optimus was the one embarrassed this time. “I hope it was just the clanging he heard.” You whisper and snicker once again.

--------------------------------------

AN: This is my first time posting smut on tumblr SO if you want to read more do go on AO3 and there is more of fics like this one!

My AO3 profile:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/risky_writer/works