#sonic forces theory

[larabar]

when sonic willingly is corrupted by the cyber energy its all blue because thats still him hes doing this for his friends and he will make sure theyre ok even if it means going all out. because he loves them

[000marie198]

Hey! Hey you guys, remember the Metal Sonic is Sonic Roboticized theory? What if Metal Tai- *gets shot down*

[enginator2000]

infinites 111-120 i be putting my scrumply scrimblo in situations fr

part 1 part 10 part 11

[divisionofsimilarities]

Sonic x Shadow Generations Guesses

Dreamcast Era

Level: Space Colony ARK (Sonic Adventure 2)

Rival: Sonic the Hedgehog (Sonic Adventure 2)

Boss: Biolizard (Sonic Adventure 2)

Level: Bullet Station (Sonic Heroes)

Rival: Ultimate Gemerl (Sonic Battle)

Boss: Metal Overlord (Sonic Heroes)

Modern Era

Level: Kingdom Valley (Sonic 2006)

Rival: Silver the Hedgehog (Sonic 2006)

Boss: Mephiles the Dark (Sonic 2006)

Level: Chaotic Inferno Zone (Sonic Rivals 2)

Rival: Metal Sonic 3.0 (Sonic Rivals 2)

Boss: Ifrit (Sonic Rivals 2)

Future Era

Level: Sunset Heights (Sonic Forces)

Rival: Infinite (Sonic Forces)

Boss: Death Egg Robot (Sonic Forces)

Level: Chaos Island (Sonic Frontiers)

Rival: Supreme (Sonic Frontiers)

Boss: THE END (Sonic Frontiers)

Final Area

Level: Black Comet (Shadow the Hedgehog)

Rival: Sonic & Diablon (Shadow the Hedgehog)

Boss: Black Doom (Shadow the Hedgehog)

Final Boss: Devil Solaris (A Devil Doom/Solaris fusion)

[the-sky-queen]

I HAVE THREE MORE NUMBERS LEFT TO GUESS TO FIND THE LAST FORCES AU

14, 15, 16

14:

“Yes!” I say, pumping my fist and popping out of the bush. “I did it, Tails!”

“I saw!” Tails says, coming out of the workshop. “Only . . . didn’t you say the machine is supposed to short out robots?”

“Yeah,” I confirm.

“Then . . . why isn’t anything smoking?” Tails asks, pointing at the bush.

Together, we duck back into the bush. Instead of looking like it’s going to explode, like I expected, the de-roboticizer is quietly whirring away. Is it . . . actually working? But . . .

“I thought Eggman built Metal Sonic,” Tails says.

“I thought so too,” I say. But suddenly I’m not so sure.

15:

Silver and I powered down and regrouped with everyone else. We had no idea where Sonic or the princess went. We held out hope that they would return, but they never did. Eventually, we had to accept that, whatever happened to them, they weren't going to come back.

Solaris had torn the world apart. All that was left was a void filled with scattered remnants of our old home. Almost all sources of food died out, but that was the least of our concerns. Solaris’ rampage awakened all the other gods of our world. They ran wild in the void, and it was all we could do to steer clear of them.

The survivors joined together in different tribes. We had to in order to survive. It was a dangerous world. The only way to live was to do so together.

And we did it without Sonic.

16 (YOU FOUND IT, LILY!! :D)

Amy followed Knuckles as he took Sonic into a different part of the shuttle that was a little more quiet. He laid the hedgehog down on one of the benches and stared at him nervously. Sonic only stared upwards at the ceiling, making no indication that he even knew what was going on.

“What happened?” Knuckles asked after a moment of silence.

“He’s been like this since I found him. And . . .” Amy’s voice started to break. “Infinite said he broke him. He said Sonic’s been like this for weeks!”

“Don’t listen to what Infinite says!” Knuckles scolded. “His main attack is illusions! By definition, he’s a liar.”

“He said Sonic was convinced that we’d save him!” Amy insisted. That, at least, definitely didn’t sound like a lie. “But in the end . . . we were too late!”

Knuckles didn’t respond, unable to come up with an argument for that. Finally, he knelt next to Sonic. “Sonic. Look at me. Look at me!”

Sonic didn’t respond. He barely even moved. The only sound that broke the silence was his uneven breathing.

Knuckles turned Sonic’s head towards him with enough force that it could barely still be considered gentle. He stared into Sonic’s dull, lightless eyes. “Say something, Sonic. Please,” Knuckles pleaded. “Tell us you’re okay. Tell us something, Sonic!”

For a few, eternity long moments, Sonic’s eyes searched Knuckles’ face. In the end though, he just blinked. Infinite was right. He recognized nothing.

Amy fell to the floor and just sobbed, the sounds undoubtedly meaningless to Sonic’s ears. Infinite really had broken him. And she didn’t know if they’d ever be able to get him back.

[zerothejackal]

silly theory time!

OKAY SO :) the phantom ruby is technology of the ancients, bear with me!!

Basically my idea is formed cus know the ancients were really knowledged on how to utilize the chaos emeralds, right? most of their technology is dependant on the chaos emeralds or otherwise relies on them to function; staying in a sort of "stand by" mode when the emeralds had been removed from the starfall islands for eons.

we also know that despite knowing about the chaos emeralds, as they seemed to come from their planet, the ancients didn't seem to be able to use the true potential of the emeralds, relying in using them to fuel their machines. not much different from eggman and how he uses, or how G.U.N. and he use chaos drives.

So what if the ancients, for one reason or another discovered what the chaos emeralds were truly capable to, perhaps thanks to a vision, since we know chaos emeralds and the master emerald may be able to give clairvoyance to people (See the murals in angel island depicting the fight at the end of Sonic 3, or the scene in Origins where Sonic sees a vision of west side island.), so what if they tried to... find a way to use these powers.

perhaps they were unable to unlock the chaos powers of the emeralds, that miracle they are able to grant, because their bodies were simply incompatable, we know there are species out there made for chaos energy, like the black arms, and others that mmmmaaayyyy be incompatable entirely like the wisps.

but the ancients were a super high-tech species, able to take much more power from a single emerald thant what eggman had been able to take from the master emerald before (given base form sonic had been able to take one of his robots fueled by the M.E. before, without going super), so it's not far fetched to think they would be able to, like tails, and eggman, create replicas of the chaos emeralds.

this is where the phantom ruby comes at play.

the phantom ruby shares several traits with the chaos emeralds, specially one major trait which is to modify reality itself. as well as how the M.E. (in the paramountverse) is described to be able to turn thoughts into power (and i believe this is true for the unlimited potential of the super form in any canon).

The phantom ruby literally transfroms thoughts into power, casting the thoughts of its wielder into reality, the ruby is also capable of space-time transportation as seen in the ruby mist of ruby mania, and the vortex that takes sonic into egg reverie zone and then into the modern world. (it's also worth mentioning that although they both entered at around the same time, classic sonic arrived in the modern world roughly almost a year after the ruby did.)

not unlike the emeralds the ruby can also create visions to whoever touches it, although that while the emeralds reveal to sonic (in the origins cutscene) the location? or just a visage of west side island, things of a person's futue; the phantom ruby shows it's host what they most desire, possibly as a "promise" of what they could do wielding the ruby.

and, just like the emeralds, the phantom ruby clearly has a certain sentience of it's own.

and although extremely chaotic and volatile, the phantom ruby seems to be able to interact with chaos energy. it's volatile energy causes angel island to fall (this is probably because just the master emerald's presence allows it to flow, sort of like if the M.E. only needed the slight energy radiation it has to elevate the whole island, and si not actively keeping it afloat with too much power)

and it also reacts to the chaos emeralds spinning around it, we know the chaos emeralds spin in circles seemingly to communicate or share chaos energy, they do it when they will disperse across the world, before turning someone super, etc.

However as seen in the sonic mania ending: the phantom ruby reacts volatily and negatively to this, losing what it seems to be most of it's power (The overclocked ruby in forces turns magenta and has white energy stripes... like the normal sprite of the ruby in mania, so it's sort of safe to say the it lost energy between Mania and Forces), and shaking/twitching when in pressence of the emeralds.

my point being: the phantom ruby shares too much similarities with the chaos emeralds, but seems to leave these world-shattering powers more accessible to any host of it, while the emeralds cannot be wielded by anyone.

oh and let's also not forget the similarities between the cyber spaces of the ancients and the special zones of the emeralds... AND HOW THE PHANTOM RUBY IS ABLE TO ALSO CREATE IT'S OWN REALMS! LIKE EGG REVERIE ZONE (which already looks a lot like a special stage of sorts, just unfinished), and NULLSPACE (wich... strange dimension where you can only get out from running and has an aesthetic of having floating energy and cubes thingies floating? LIKE THE CYBER SPACES?!)

oh also; let's also-also not forget how similar the phantom ruby glitches are to the cyber corruption!

MY THEORY HERE: being that the ancients created the phantom ruby, or at least were working on the phantom ruby before The End found them again, not letting them exactly finish their creaton.

I think that the ancients were developing a way to use the power of chaos against The End, but it found them before they could ever finish it, that's why the ruby it's extremely volatile and reacts aggresively against the chaos emeralds.

once the ancients were gone the ruby simply could've went missing, we know the emeralds and M.E. left the starfall islands, and stayed (or at least the M.E. did) in the safe haven the ancients had built in what one day would become angel island

while the emeralds were used by different civilizations across the world, like the south island and est side island civilizations.

so that even can explain the fact the phantom ruby had been "missing" for a long time, perhaps it's volatile nature didn't allow it to stay "forgotten" for too much time.

[hydrossity-zone]

you telling me other people dont keep the same special interest theyve had since they were 9. whadda hell

[smuphy97]

Hey all, just throwing this thought out into the Sonic world, but if the Eggman or a Thanos like entity came into possession of the infinity gauntlet and poofed half of Mobius population who do you think would get dusted?

Tails, maybe Knuckles, Vector, Espio, Silver, Shadow, Cream, and Creams mom, hmm

[therummesoccupied]

WHY (I used to think) SONIC THE HEDGEHOG HAS A SPLIT TIMELINE - EVEN IF SEGA SAYS IT DOESN'T (and some insight as to why I'm less inclined to believe so now)

So earlier this month, IDW's Fang the Hunter Issue #3 came out, and I've really wanted to share my thoughts on it, but...

The thing is, it ends on a pretty big plot twist, and it has me going full Tin Foil-Hat about a certain theory, and to talk about that, I first need to talk about what I believed about the Sonic the Hedgehog canon before reading this issue in order to properly address what changed.

So I need to talk about the Sonic Timeline, and how my personal interpretation of it has been at odds with word-of-god information coming out of SEGA for some time.

At some point some time ago, it was confirmed by writer Ian Flynn on his podcast, that every single Classic Sonic game takes place in Modern Sonic's past - this covers not just the Genesis/Game Gear/Saturn games, but Classic Sonic's perspective of Sonic Generations and Sonic Forces, Sonic Mania, and all of IDW's Classic Sonic stories as well. In any other franchise, this is a no-brainer. But for Sonic the Hedgehog this doesn't make sense.

Specifically, it does not make sense for every Classic Sonic story, starting with his perspective of Generations, to take place in the same timeline as the Modern Sonic games starting with Sonic 4 (or Sonic Adventure depending on what you consider canon) because, from that point onward, the Classic Sonic characters have memories that the Modern Sonic characters do not have.

For the unfamiliar, Sonic Generations is a sort of chronological-crossover story in which the Modern incarnation of Sonic joins forces with his past, Classic, self - reliving events from various adventures he's had over the course of his life.

At the end, a mysterious portal opens up and whisks Classic Sonic away back to his own time period. From here on out, we start getting new stories taking place in the Classic era, starting with Sonic Mania, in which Dr. Eggman seeks to utilize the power of a mysterious, new gem called the Phantom Ruby. At the end of the game, the Phantom Ruby opens a strange portal and (Classic) Sonic jumps through it.

This leads directly into Sonic Forces, another crossover story in which the Modern Dr. Eggman uses the Phantom Ruby's power to take over the world and (Modern) Sonic and his friends band together to stop him. Part of the way into the story, a mysterious portal opens up - the same mysterious portal from the end of Sonic Mania - and Classic Sonic emerges from it to team up with Modern Sonic again before being sent back to his own era at the end of the game.

Here is where the problems begin. Classic Sonic experiences all of the events of Sonic Generations, and is shown to remember them when he reunites with and appears to recognize the Modern characters (this cannot be literally confirmed, as Classic Sonic is always portrayed as mute during these crossover stories, but he doesn't appear to be confused or anything when they verbally recognize him). Yet, when the same events happen to Modern Sonic... he doesn't remember them.

He doesn't go "Oh weird white void. And Green Hill's here? I remember this! This is that time I went to the future and fought that Time Eater thing!"

Furthermore, over the course of Sonic Generations, (Classic) Sonic meets a whole bunch of his future friends, and yet, when he first encounters them as his Modern self, he... doesn't recognize them.

When Shadow first shows up in Sonic Adventure 2 and starts rambling about a jewel containing the ultimate power, he doesn't say "Hey! I know you! You're that guy from the future! Are we friends? You seem like a bad guy right now..."

On top of that, there is a series of canon Sonic Forces prequel comics that set the stage for the game's story - one of which involves (Modern) Eggman finding the Phantom Ruby - which he, you guessed it, does not recognize, despite having had an entire adventure (allegedly in his own past) entirely centered around him using its power!

As Forces' story progresses, the Heroes learn that the Phantom Ruby is at the core of Eggman's operation, and lo and behold none of them recognize it.

It's not even like so much real-world time had passed that the writers themselves forgot - Sonic Mania and Sonic Forces were released three months apart! The games' stories are deliberately written in such a way that they are meant to be connected together!

So what explanations do we have for these characters not remembering events that supposedly happened to them? Personally, I have seen three theories floating about.

Theory #1: Due to Time Travel Shenanigans, Classic Sonic's memories were wiped upon his return to his own timeline.

This is fairly a common plot device in time travel stories, I can specifically think of some instances where this happens in Doctor Who. A character meets their future self, who does not have any prior memory of this encounter, and to conserve the nature of their meeting, time itself wipes the past incarnation's memory so that they won't remember it when it happens to them later.

I've always thought this kinda thing to be a bit of a cop-out, but this one is actually kind of implied by the very last issue of Archie's Sonic comics. However, those distinctly take place in a different continuity, and are not considered canon in any way to the main games or the IDW comics.

This doesn't even explain everything to begin with, since Sonic Mania doesn't have any time travel until the very end. The entire story takes place in the Classic Era. Sonic doesn't time travel - and therefore does not encounter his "future" self - until the adventure is already over! Mania even has a DLC Encore campaign that opens with Sonic exiting the portal at the end of Sonic Forces and having another adventure centering around the Phantom Ruby, once again set entirely in the Classic era, post-time travel!

To hammer this point even further home, in IDW's Classic Sonic stories, which have been stated and demonstrated to be canon to the world of the games, Sonic and crew encounter the Hard-Boiled Heavies, who were first introduced in Mania, and by god they recognize them, meaning that these characters, in their Classic incarnations, definitely do remember the events of Sonic Mania after the fact while their Modern counterparts do not.

So Time Travel Memory-Wipe is out. This brings us to

Theory #2: Sonic has had so many adventures, he doesn't remember all of them.

This one almost makes sense. In IDW, it's stated that Sonic has saved the world literally nine hundred times.

I have never done nine hundred of anything and remembered all of them. The problem once again comes from Sonic Forces. In that game, Eggman imprisons Sonic for six whole months and takes over 99% of the world - which might as well be the whole thing. You cannot convince me that Sonic could go to the future, see a world where Dr. Eggman has completely conquered the planet and his future self is a war prisoner, and that he just forgot about it. Not when he's shown to remember it the second time around. Not when he remembers The Deadly Six. It stretches the imagination far, far beyond the shattering point of suspension of disbelief, even for a plucky video game franchise about a cartoon hedgehog.

This leaves us with

Theory #3: Sonic Generations and its Time Travel Shenanigans cause a Legend of Zelda-style timeline split, resulting in all Classic Sonic stories that take place after that point being set in another (Classic) universe that shares history with the main (Modern) universe up until the point of the split, at which point it branches off into an alternate timeline.

Believe it or not, this one was kind of implied by the game that caused Most Of The Problems to begin with, Sonic Forces. Upon encountering Classic Sonic in that game (Modern) Tails exclaims:

The use of the words "Other Dimension" is odd here, as last time they met, Classic Sonic was Sonic From The Past as far as Tails was concerned. Even if he had quickly worked out a Timeline Split here, "Dimension" instead of "Timeline" was a fairly poor choice of words - and if I'm being honest, that kind of inconsistent writing and its commonality within the Sonic franchise it the true culprit behind literally every one of these issues.

Still, I think it was pretty clear what was being implied here. Classic Sonic's perspective of Generations and Forces, as well as Mania and all the IDW Classic Sonic stories take place in a separate universe created by Generations' events.

So why did they change this?

I have my theories, but they're not particularly confirmable. For a long while, SEGA has had a habit of keeping Classic and Modern Sonic more or less separate, except in the case of crossovers. Modern Sonic stories seldom reference the events of any Classic stories, and characters and enemies from the Classic games seem to be strictly off-limits to appear in Modern Sonic material. It's kind of lame, and from what I can gather, the fanbase at large has never been particularly happy about it.

I believe that, with this arbitrary separation already in place, many fans were lead to misinterpret this "Other Dimension" line. Instead of a new timeline that branched off after a certain point, I think many fans believed this line meant that literally every Classic Sonic story - Sonic 1, Sonic 2, Sonic CD, Sonic 3 & Knuckles, etc. - took place in a separate universe from literally every Modern Sonic story, and that the Modern Sonic universe as we know it begins with Sonic 4/Sonic Adventure.

I remember seeing blacklash against this idea - an idea that, as far as I could tell, wasn't even what the creators were trying to communicate. In turn, those same creators appeared to misinterpret the criticism they were receiving, believing the fans were upset at the idea of a Split Timeline rather than realizing the fans were operating under the notion of altogether Separate Timelines. Because of this, instead of clarifying what they actually meant, SEGA did something SEGA is wont to do, and took a sharp turn in the opposite direction - with Ian Flynn confirming that they are now operating under the notion of one shared timeline.

Now, the Split Timeline theory isn't perfect. It brings up its fair share of questions, like "Why did Sonic Generations' Time Travel cause a Timeline Split when the Time Travel of Sonic CD and Sonic '06 seemed to have a direct effect from the past to future?"

The thing is, there are lots and lots of ways to handwave this pretty concisely. Perhaps the nature of the Time Eater is different from the power of the Time Stones, Solaris, and Chaos Control-induced Time travel. Nothing in the series outright implies this, but it's pretty quick and easy and works just fine. I can't think of a single other explanation for the memory discrepancies between the Modern and Classic Sonic casts that doesn't bring up more, harder-to-answer questions.

Now, this was not necessarily a huge deal. As long as Mania and the Classic IDW stories weren't being referenced in any Modern Sonic material - and, again, SEGA tends to like to keep those things separate - I, and anyone else who wanted to, could safely ignore what SEGA was saying out-of-continuity. Heck, at one point, SEGA was saying that the Sonic series took place on two planets instead of one, and the fanbase collectively ignored them so hard that they ended up changing their minds and retconning it. I appear to be in the minority in this particular case, however, so I don't see that as being likely.

The new problem arises in the case of Sonic Superstars, the latest main-series Sonic title, set entirely within the Classic era. This game causes two wrinkles.

One comes from TailsTube. TailsTube is a YouTube series produced by SEGA in an attempt to clean up some of the franchise's worldbuilding and answer some questions audiences might have about the series' universe and lore.

All of the information presented in these videos is meant to be considered entirely canon to the series, and in Episode 5, we hear Sonic (in his Modern incarnation, mind you) mention the upcoming anniversary of his adventure on North Star Island - referring to the events of Sonic Superstars. This reference being made by Modern Sonic specifically implies that the game's story takes place in the Modern Timeline, despite being a Classic story created after Sonic Generations.

Now, there's a fairly quick workaround explanation for this - it's that Sonic Superstars takes place entirely in the Modern Timeline, just before the point when Sonic's appearance changed to his Modern design - as even in a Split-Timeline scenario, Modern Sonic would have had the same appearance as Classic Sonic up to a certain point.

However, the idea of a single Classic Sonic game set in the Modern Sonic Timeline, after the Timeline Split, but before the appearance change is an exercise in mental gymnastics exhausting even to someone who has spent the past two hours writing about Sonic the Hedgehog Timeline Theories.

This also causes an issue when we consider our second wrinkle: Sonic Superstars' relationship to the IDW Comics.

The IDW comics are currently running a full arc set entirely in the Classic era, centering around Fang the Hunter. According to Flynn, this story takes place sometime after Sonic Mania, and sometime before Superstars, serving as something of a lead-in to the latter. This is a word of god we can't really ignore, as the events of Sonic Mania are pretty directly referenced within this story - so if there is a Timeline Split, it must take place in the Classic Timeline. But if it's leading up to Sonic Superstars, it has to take place in the Modern Timeline.

I'm sure there's a way to rectify this while keeping the Split Timeline theory in tact, but, again, my brain is tired of searching for answers to try and make the timeline of this Family Video Game Franchise work.

Or it was.

You see, Fang the Hunter #3 dropped earlier this month, and it did some stuff.

Ooooooohhhhh did it do some stuff. Some stuff that might not seem big at first glance, but when you're thinking too much about Sonic the Hedgehog at all hours of the day and night like I am, oooohhhhh boy.

I have a new theory about the Sonic Timeline. "Timeline." Singular. I don't even know if they meant to, but SEGA, Sonic Team, and Ian Flynn have brought me right around on this Unified Timeline thing.

But I won't get into it right now. I'm saving that nonsense for my Thoughts Post for Fang #3. So if you read this whole thing like some kind of Maniac,

A. Thanks for sticking with me for the duration of my Mad Ramblings

and

B. Please join me again when I do my Thoughts Post on Fang the Hunter #3, and how it informs my new theory about How the Sonic the Hedgehog Timeline works.

[atwas-meme-ing]

And one thing that's really cool about the theory that Sonic is the real Ultimate Lifeform is that, cool powers aside, he's just a normal guy. I mean, he eats chili dogs and he can't swim and he goes "WHOOOO!" and he just loves to run and have fun and the canon (game) version of Sonic doesn't want to be a hero, he just does what he does and has fun and helps his friends.

And that's so inspiring, you know? Like, it's the ones that are the most quiet and unassuming that make the best heroes. Oh, sure, Sonic's vain and conceited, but not in a way that craves attention. He's not vain and conceited in a way that needs everyone else to see how good he is, but in a way that says he knows how good he is. More like a very vocal confidence. From what I've heard, the best examples of this come from the Storybook games, but I haven't finished either of them, so I'll cite the fact that in Forces, he was taking orders from "Knucklehead" and the girl that scares him away because she has a crush on him! That is not the attitude of someone who wants the whole world to see him as the hero.

And even more interesting is, at the end of SA2 (btw, I haven't finished it, I've just seen spoilers), he muses about the possibility that he might be the Ultimate Lifeform. And then... he just seems to cast the idea away without a second thought. And, as far as I know, there is no one else who knows about this except him. Not even Shadow, because Shadow lost his memory.

So when Sage is asking him, "How can you smile when you can't even stand?" and he just looks up at her, maybe he's thinking, because I'm the real Ultimate Lifeform, and I know I can do this. But he isn't gonna tell anyone that. Because all that "ultimate" stuff would cramp his style. It's bad enough that he's seen as a hero and he has more and more trouble finding forgotten islands where he can run free without being pestered by fans (ok, that's just a headcanon of mine), but he sure as heck don't want nobody thinking he's the real Ultimate Lifeform. Let Shadow have that title. It suits him better, anyway.

So, as much as I would purely love to have Sega actually finally confirm that Sonic really is the True Ultimate Lifeform and not Shadow, I think I prefer it this way. With the possibility that he knows what he is and is comfortable with being the only one who does know.

[grieving-angel-hopeful-demon]

What if the Phantom Ruby was just a portable cyber space portal

[hedgewolfposting]

What if like.. the Phantom Ruby was less about messing with your mind palace and more literally physically tearing holes in space time and pulling items from other dimensions. Warping reality for real rather than just in your head.

Like iirc the ruby’s whole deal is that it creates illusions and if you’re affected by it then those illusions become reality for you—so everybody in Forces was having a mass hallucination. But if you’re out here UNaffected, then.. what? You walk right up to Infinite and bop him right in his pointy mask? As if a Tails with a renewed purpose couldn’t figure out how to make ruby-wave blocking technology? Nah.

So what if Eggman continued his experiments with space/time/other worlds and eventually created the Phantom Ruby… But it doesn’t work. So he creates another prototype. And another. And another. And they STILL don’t work. Then his base gets broken into by a pack of jackals and their leader picks up one of the rubies—and it hits him. A *conduit*! That’s what it needs! Sonic can harness and direct the power of the emeralds, maybe this jackal can do the same with his ruby.

Zero tries over and over, every single day, but still can’t get beyond the initial illusory projections. Eggman wants REAL results and warps he can use, not whining, weakness, and failure. Eventually, with his ego worn to bits, Zero agrees to have the Phantom Ruby surgically implanted in his chest—and finally, it works.

But the warps are unstable and as time goes on, using the ruby starts to result in serious pain for Zero (now Infinite). It messes with his head. It makes the divide between worlds flimsy. So, what if things start to leak out without Infinite’s direction like a certain small blue hedgehog? Or maybe even a chipmunk princess?? A green hedgehog in a beat up leather jacket???

I don’t know man it just always felt weird to me that they did what was essentially a Freedom Fighters plot without Freedom Fighters characters ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I know there’s a reason but it still feels like a missed opportunity.

[loveletterworm]

unfortunately despite briefly attempting to begin preparing for artfight a week or two ago i accidentally ended up entirely breaking myself out of thoughts of any of my own characters by the time that it's actually almost started anyway, however i'm realizing now that due to a strange aspect of the rules of artfight i technically have a loophole here where i don't technically have to force myself to change what i'm thinking about for the sake of participating. However could i dare stomach causing myself such a severe blow to my credibility as "putting the portal gijinkas i made when i was 16 on the website and just making people have to accept that"

[reidmarieprentiss]

Too Sweet

Summary: Y/N knows Spencer is too good for her.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: smut (18+), angst, light fluff

Warnings/Includes: porn with plot, additional warnings under the cut, cosplay, wearing dress, use of Y/N, alcohol consumption

Word count: 11.9k

a/n: idk man i really want him

main masterlist

part two part three

Additional warnings: breast & nipple play, fingering, oral (m&f), PinV protected, biting

The convention hall buzzed with excitement, filled with an array of fans dressed as their favorite characters from the iconic series, Doctor Who. The air was alive with the chatter of people discussing their favorite episodes, theories about the show's plot twists, and the inevitable debates about which Doctor was the best. Vendors lined the walls, offering everything from collectible sonic screwdrivers to handmade TARDIS keychains.

Spencer Reid and Penelope Garcia were two of these enthusiastic attendees. Spencer was dressed impeccably as his favorite Doctor, the Eleventh, complete with a tweed jacket, bow tie, and fez perched jauntily on his head. Penelope, meanwhile, dazzled as the vibrant Thirteenth Doctor, sporting a rainbow-striped shirt, long coat, and bright yellow suspenders. Her hair was styled to perfection, and she wore a replica of the Thirteenth Doctor’s sonic screwdriver clipped to her belt.

They had spent the day gleefully exploring the convention together, indulging in all the nerdy joys the event had to offer. Panels, merchandise, photo ops with actors—they were having a fantastic time. They even participated in a trivia contest, which Spencer naturally excelled in, earning them a special edition Doctor Who poster. Everything was going splendidly until they ran into Penelope's ex, Kevin Lynch, who had the audacity to show up with his new date, a tall brunette who seemed to be equally as nerdy as Penelope.

Penelope's face fell as she spotted Kevin, her previous enthusiasm dimming slightly. She forced a smile and waved at Kevin, who looked surprised but waved back, a bit awkwardly.

"Penelope!" Kevin said, trying to sound cheerful but failing miserably. "It's, uh, great to see you here."

"Yeah, you too, Kevin," Penelope replied, her voice wavering slightly as she glanced at his date. She couldn't help but feel a pang of embarrassment and an awkward tension that hung in the air.

The encounter was brief, but it left Penelope feeling deflated. After exchanging a few pleasantries, she quickly excused herself and turned to Spencer, whispering that she needed a moment alone. Spencer nodded understandingly, his eyes filled with empathy, and watched as Penelope hurried off, clearly upset.

Now alone amidst the bustling crowd, Spencer found himself wandering around the convention hall, a bit lost without Penelope by his side. Despite being surrounded by thousands of people who shared his interests, he felt an uncomfortable sense of solitude creeping in. He adjusted his bow tie nervously, his eyes scanning the room for a friendly face or familiar sight.

As he wandered, Spencer couldn't help but feel self-conscious, almost like a lost puppy in a sea of strangers. The convention was vast, and though he loved the atmosphere, it was a lot to take in alone. He fiddled with his fez, trying to focus on the displays and booths around him, but the sense of being out of place lingered.

It was then that he noticed you, standing a short distance away, dressed as the most enchanting character from Doctor Who—Madame de Pompadour, The Girl in the Fireplace.

Your costume was a stunning recreation of the elegant 18th-century dress worn by Reinette, complete with intricate lace details, flowing skirts, and an opulent corset that captured the character's timeless beauty. A perfectly styled wig with cascading curls crowned your head, adding an authentic touch to your ensemble. You wore a delicate mask in your hand, which you twirled absentmindedly as you observed the convention floor, your eyes occasionally flicking toward Spencer with an amused curiosity. But what struck Spencer most was your warm smile, a beacon of kindness amidst the chaos.

You had noticed Spencer earlier, observing him with a gentle curiosity as he meandered through the crowd. Something about his endearing awkwardness and the way he carried himself drew your attention, and you found yourself walking over to him, compelled by a mix of admiration and empathy.

With a kind and playful smile, you approached him and said, "Hey, you look lost. Do you need help finding your parents?"

Spencer's eyes widened in surprise at your teasing comment, and he let out a surprised snort, momentarily caught off guard. He quickly recovered from his initial embarrassment and noticed the twinkle of amusement in your eyes.

"Uh, no, no thank you," he replied with a sheepish grin. "I was given permission to look around by myself."

Your laughter was infectious, and Spencer felt the tightness in his chest ease. It was as if your presence alone had a calming effect, grounding him in the moment and reminding him that he wasn't truly alone. Your genuine kindness and humor were like a breath of fresh air.

"I'm glad to hear it," you said, still smiling as you playfully curtsied. "I'm Y/N, by the way. A fellow time traveler, it seems."

Spencer hesitated for a moment before bowing slightly at the waist, feeling a little more confident now. "Spencer Reid," he replied, introducing himself. "And yes, it seems we both have a knack for getting lost in time."

Your shared laugh seemed to lighten the atmosphere, and Spencer couldn't help but feel grateful for your unexpected companionship. It was a simple moment, yet it carried a weight of significance—an unexpected connection made in the most delightful of circumstances.

As the vibrant crowd continued to flow around you, your conversation with Spencer felt like a moment suspended in time, a quiet bubble amidst the lively chaos of the convention. The laughter, chatter, and occasional shout of delight from fellow fans echoed through the hall, but you found yourself entirely focused on the man standing before you.

"So, Spencer," you began, looking around at the lively crowd, "what's been your favorite part of the convention so far?"

“Well, I won the trivia contest!” Spencer replied with enthusiasm, his eyes lighting up with pride. “I love seeing everyone’s costumes too, the creativity and thought they put into them is inspiring. And the food court! Did you see they have—why are you looking at me like that? Am I rambling? Oh, I am, hah, sorry.”

You chuckled softly, finding his rambling endearing. “Don’t stop on my account; I happen to think it’s very cute.”

Spencer blinked, momentarily caught off guard by your compliment. “You… you do?”

“Indeed, Doctor,” you replied with a playful glint in your eye.

“How did you know I’m a doctor?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Um…” you pointed at his costume, a classic Doctor Who ensemble that perfectly captured the essence of the Eleventh Doctor. 

“Oh! Right, you meant Doctor Who Doctor,” he realized, a sheepish smile spreading across his face.

“Yes, but are you really a doctor?” you inquired, intrigued by the idea of him being both a fictional and real-life doctor.

Spencer nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of humility and pride. “I have three PhDs.”

“Oh wow, that’s hot,” you said, your voice teasing yet sincere, enjoying the way his cheeks turned a faint shade of pink.

“What?” he squeaked, clearly flustered by your unexpected compliment.

“Tell me, Spencer… do you have plans after the convention?” you asked, leaning in slightly, your interest in him evident.

“Um, no, nope. No, I do not. Totally free,” Spencer stammered, trying to keep his composure but feeling his heart race at the prospect of spending more time with you.

“Good to know,” you replied with a warm smile. “Would you like to get a drink with me?”

“I would love to,” he answered, his voice brimming with exhilaration.

“Wonderful,” you said, pleased with his response.

The two of you exchanged numbers, a small gesture that felt monumental, sealing the promise of further connection beyond the convention's vibrant confines. As you parted ways, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the thought of seeing him again.

As he watched you disappear into the colorful sea of costumes, you turned back to Spencer, your heart still racing with the promise of more time together. “I’ll see you later, Spencer,” you said, offering him one last lingering smile before slipping away into the crowd.

Spencer stood there for a moment, his mind whirling with possibilities and the thrill of new connections. As he adjusted his fez and prepared to rejoin Penelope, he smiled to himself, the Doctor Who theme echoing in the distance as he headed back into the lively fray.

—

Later that night, you and Spencer agreed to meet up at a cozy little bar nestled in a bustling neighborhood near your apartment. The day had been a whirlwind of excitement and adventure at the Doctor Who convention, but now, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the city lights twinkled, a new kind of eagerness filled the air.

You arrived at the bar first, filled with anticipation and nervousness. Gone was the elegant 18th-century gown you wore at the convention; you now wore a low-cut, tight shirt that hugged your curves and showed off a bit more cleavage than before. It was a bold choice, one that made you feel confident and sexy, and you hoped Spencer would appreciate it.

As you waited for Spencer to arrive, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of fever at seeing him again. Something about his awkward charm and genuine kindness had struck a chord with you, and you were eager to see where the evening might lead.

When Spencer walked in, your breath caught at the sight of him. Gone was the Eleventh Doctor costume, replaced by a classic sweater vest ensemble that was quintessentially Spencer Reid. He wore a crisp button-down shirt under the vest, paired with slacks that somehow made him look both dorky and endearingly handsome. You found it incredibly attractive, and a smile tugged at your lips as he approached.

“Hey,” he said, a bit shyly, his eyes darting around the bar before settling on you. When he noticed your outfit, he froze for a moment, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of your low-cut shirt. “Wow, you look... amazing.”

“Thank you,” you replied, feeling a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks. “You clean up pretty well yourself, Doctor.”

Spencer chuckled, running a hand through his hair in a self-conscious gesture. “I, uh, didn’t know what to wear, but I’m glad it works.”

“Oh, it definitely works,” you assured him, your gaze lingering on his sweater vest. “I have a thing for sweater vests.”

He laughed, his cheeks tinged with pink. “Good to know. I have plenty of them.”

You motioned for him to join you at the bar, where you ordered drinks and settled into a comfortable conversation. The atmosphere was relaxed, with soft music playing in the background and the hum of conversations surrounding you.

“So, how did you get into Doctor Who?” Spencer asked, genuinely curious as he took a sip of his drink.

“I’ve always been a fan of science fiction,” you replied, leaning closer to ensure he could hear you over the chatter. “The idea of time travel, the adventures, and the characters just drew me in. Plus, the show has this amazing ability to make you think about life in new ways.”

Spencer nodded, clearly pleased with your answer. “I completely agree. The show is more than just entertainment; it’s a way to explore complex ideas and emotions. I think that’s why it resonates with so many people.”

“Exactly!” you said enthusiastically, enjoying the ease of conversation between you. “And what about you? What drew you to the series?”

Spencer shrugged, his eyes twinkling with the joy of discussing something he loved. “It started as a way to escape, I guess. Growing up, I didn’t have a lot of friends, but Doctor Who was like a companion, in a way. It taught me a lot about empathy and bravery.”

You smiled, touched by his honesty. “That’s really great, Spencer.”

“Thanks,” he said, looking a bit bashful under your gaze. “I’m glad I met someone who appreciates the show as much as I do.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly, a dance of words that brought you closer with each exchange. You found yourself laughing easily, the tension of earlier dissipating as you both shared stories and jokes, losing track of time in the warm ambiance of the bar.

As the night wore on, you noticed Spencer stealing glances at your shirt, his eyes flickering to your cleavage before quickly averting his gaze, trying to be polite. You couldn’t help but find his flustered reactions adorable, and you decided to tease him a little.

“Is there something interesting over here?” you asked, gesturing to your chest with a playful grin.

Spencer’s face turned a deep shade of red, and he stammered, “Uh, no, I mean, yes, but—oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

You laughed softly, reaching out to touch his hand reassuringly. “Relax, Spencer. I don’t mind. It’s kind of flattering, actually.”

He exhaled, clearly relieved by your response. “Well, in that case, yes, it’s very distracting,” he admitted, a shy smile playing on his lips.

“Good to know I still have it,” you teased, leaning back in your chair with a satisfied expression.

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “You definitely do.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, filled with the promise of more to come. As the night deepened, the conversation shifted from playful banter to something more intimate, the chemistry between you undeniable.

“So, Spencer,” you said, your voice dropping to a more sultry tone. “What does the rest of your night look like? Are you all booked up?”

“Um, no, not really,” he replied, his heart racing as he caught the glint in your eye. “Why do you ask?”

“Well,” you said, leaning closer, “I was wondering if you’d like to come back to my place. We could continue our conversation somewhere a bit more private.”

Spencer’s eyes widened, and he swallowed hard, his mind spinning with possibilities. “I would love that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Great,” you replied with a smile, feeling a thrill of anticipation as you both stood up, ready to leave the bar behind for the promise of what awaited you.

The walk back to your apartment was filled with a charged silence, the kind that spoke volumes without needing words. You felt Spencer’s presence beside you, a comforting warmth that made your heart race with excitement.

As you reached your apartment building, you turned to him, your eyes meeting in a shared understanding. “This is me,” you said, gesturing to the entrance.

“Nice place,” Spencer commented, trying to keep his cool despite the nerves bubbling inside him.

You unlocked the door and led him inside, your heart pounding with each step. The atmosphere was electric, one that promised something incredible.

Once inside, you turned to face Spencer, a playful smile on your lips. “Make yourself at home,” you said, gesturing to the cozy living room. “Can I get you anything?”

“Just some water would be great,” he replied, trying to steady his racing heart.

You nodded and disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with two glasses of water. As you handed one to Spencer, your fingers brushed against his, sending a jolt of electricity through you both.

“Thank you,” Spencer said, his voice warm and sincere.

“You’re welcome,” you replied, sitting down beside him on the couch. The proximity was intoxicating, and you could feel the tension building with each passing second.

“I have to say, I’m really glad we met today.” Spencer said, his voice slightly shaky. 

“Me too,” you agreed, your gaze locked on his.

The room seemed to shrink around you, the world fading away until it was just the two of you, enveloped in a bubble of connection and desire.

As you leaned in closer, your lips mere inches from his, Spencer’s breath hitched in suspense. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the magnetic pull drawing you together.

“Spencer,” you whispered, your voice a soft caress.

“Yes?” he replied, his eyes searching yours, filled with longing.

“Would you like to stay the night?” you asked, your words laced with an invitation that left little room for doubt.

Spencer swallowed, his heart racing as he processed your offer. “I’d love to,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

With that, you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a gentle yet passionate kiss. It was a kiss filled with promise and possibility, a moment that transcended the ordinary and ventured into the extraordinary.

Spencer kissed you back with a low whimper as he began to ravish you. His lips were soft and urgent against yours, moving with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel the strain in his body as he pressed against you, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer. The heat between you was palpable, an electric current that seemed to spark and crackle in the air around you.

You responded eagerly, threading your fingers through his hair, feeling the silky strands slip between your fingers as you deepened the kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of the lingering sweetness of the drinks you'd shared earlier and something distinctly Spencer that made you crave more.

Spencer's hands moved with a purpose, exploring the curves of your body with a gentle yet insistent touch that left you breathless. His fingertips traced the outline of your spine, sending delightful tingles through your skin as they traveled lower, coming to rest on the small of your back. You arched into his touch, pressing your body more firmly against his, savoring the feel of him against you.

With a quiet moan, Spencer shifted, guiding you backward until you were lying beneath him on the couch. He broke the kiss for a moment, his breath warm and ragged against your lips as he gazed down at you with a smoldering intensity. The look in his eyes sent a thrill through you, a promise of the pleasures to come.

Spencer leaned down, capturing your lips once more as his hands continued their exploration. His touch was both tender and demanding, a perfect balance that left you yearning for more. You felt his fingers trail over your exposed skin, slipping beneath the fabric of your low-cut shirt, and you shivered in anticipation as he began to explore further.

The sensation of his hands against your bare skin was electrifying, each touch sending ripples of pleasure through your body. You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, an insistent ache that begged for more as Spencer's touch became more insistent. His hands roamed over your body with a confidence that contradicted the initial shyness you had seen in him earlier.

Your shirt slipped further up your torso, and Spencer's lips left yours to follow the path his hands had traced moments before. His mouth moved with a deliberate slowness, leaving a trail of heated kisses along your jawline, down the column of your neck, and across your collarbone. Each kiss was a promise, a vow of what was to come, and you found yourself lost in the sensations he was creating.

As Spencer's mouth traveled lower, you let out a soft sigh of pleasure, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his sweater vest. The texture of the material beneath your fingertips was a comforting contrast to the fiery sensations his lips and hands were invoking, grounding you even as you felt yourself soaring.

Spencer's lips moved over the swell of your breasts, his touch reverent yet possessive, as if he were memorizing every inch of your skin with his mouth. You felt a thrill at the thought of being the focus of his attention. 

Spencer’s lips ghosted over your skin, each kiss sending waves of heat coursing through your body. As he reached the edge of your shirt, he paused, his fingers gently teasing the hem as he looked up at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Are you planning on keeping this on all night?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You chuckled softly, a playful smile dancing on your lips. “Well, Doctor, I thought I’d give you something to unwrap. Consider it a mystery.”

Spencer grinned, his fingers deftly pulling your shirt higher until it slipped over your head, leaving you exposed beneath him. His gaze raked over your bare skin, appreciation evident in his eyes. “Mystery solved,” he whispered, his tone filled with a mixture of desire and admiration.

You felt a rush of heat at his words, your skin tingling. “You’re a fast learner,” you replied, your voice sultry as you reached up to pull him back down to you. “But let’s see if you can handle what’s next.”

His eyes darkened with intensity at your challenge, and he captured your lips in another heated kiss, his hands exploring your newly exposed skin with renewed vigor. The sensations were dizzying, each touch and caress a testament to his growing confidence and desire.

Spencer’s hands traveled down your sides, tracing the curves of your waist and hips before slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. You let out a quiet moan, arching into his touch as he began to work them down, his fingers deft and sure.

“Getting a bit bold, aren’t we?” you teased, nipping at his lower lip as he freed you from the confines of your clothing.

“Just trying to keep up with you,” he retorted, his voice tinged with amusement as he leaned back to admire his handiwork.

You reached for the hem of his sweater vest, tugging it upwards with a playful smirk. “I think it’s time we even the playing field, don’t you?”

He chuckled, raising his arms to help you remove the vest, followed by his button-down shirt. You couldn’t help but appreciate the lean muscles beneath his clothing, the way his skin seemed to glow in the dim light of the room.

“Not bad, Doctor,” you quipped, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest appreciatively. “Maybe I should have gone to med school.”

Spencer let out a low laugh, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I doubt they teach this in med school.”

“Oh, I’m sure there’s a course or two,” you replied, your fingers trailing lower, teasing the waistband of his pants.

He inhaled sharply, his body responding to your touch in a way that made you both feel like you were on fire. “I think we’re about to graduate to something more advanced,” he murmured, his voice a mix of fieriness and teasing.

You grinned, pulling him back down to you, your lips capturing his in a passionate kiss that promised more than words ever could. The heat between you was intense, a consuming fire that left you both breathless and wanting more.

Spencer’s hands continued their exploration, mapping every inch of your skin with a reverence that made your heart race. You could feel the tension building, a delicious feeling that promised to leave you both satisfied yet craving even more.

As you shifted beneath him, your body pressed against his in a way that made your intentions clear, you whispered, “What do you say we take this somewhere more comfortable?”

He nodded, his eyes filled with a hunger that matched your own. “Lead the way,” he replied, his voice husky with desire.

With that, you guided him toward your bedroom, the promise of what was to come hanging in the air like an electric charge. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the enticing possibilities that lay ahead.

Once inside your bedroom, the atmosphere shifted, the intimacy of the space amplifying the pull between you. The dim lighting cast shadows across the room, creating an intimate bubble that felt like it was just for you and Spencer.

You turned to face him, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you slowly backed toward the bed. “I hope you’re ready for this, Doctor.”

He followed, his movements confident and sure as he approached, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve been ready since the moment I saw you,” he replied, his voice low and filled with want.

As you sank onto the bed, Spencer joined you, his body warm and inviting against yours. The tension between you was palpable, a magnetic pull that drew you closer with each passing second.

You reached for him, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw before pulling him in for another searing kiss. His lips were soft and insistent against yours, his touch possessive as he pressed you back against the sheets. The mattress dipped under your combined weight, and you felt the cool, crisp fabric of the sheets beneath your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Spencer’s body.

Spencer’s breath mingled with yours, warm and intoxicating with desire. His hands traveled with a deliberate slowness, exploring the curves and contours of your body as though committing every inch to memory. You felt his fingers skim over the bare skin of your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The sensation was electric, sending delightful tingles coursing through your veins.

As he deepened the kiss, a low groan rumbled in his throat, vibrating through your body and sending a shiver of excitement down your spine. Your hands found their way to his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath his skin as you pulled him closer, craving the warmth and weight of him against you.

His lips moved with a languid, teasing rhythm, exploring the delicate skin of your neck with gentle, open-mouthed kisses that sent your heart racing. You tilted your head back, granting him better access as a soft sigh escaped your lips, filling the room with a quiet sound of pleasure.

Spencer’s kisses trailed lower, his breath hot against your skin as he made his way down your collarbone. The sensation was intoxicating, a delicious mix of tenderness and urgency that left you breathless. You felt his hands slide up your sides, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin beneath your ribcage before coming to rest on your waist.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough with desire.

You couldn’t help but smile, your fingers threading through his hair as you arched into his touch. “Get to the point, Doctor.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and enticing, as he shifted his weight to hover above you, his eyes dark with longing. The air between you crackled with intensity, a potent mix of suspense and need that seemed to draw you even closer together.

Your breathing grew ragged, each inhale a shuddering gasp as you surrendered to the pleasure building inside you. Spencer’s touch was like a drug, addictive and all-consuming, leaving you dizzy with longing.

He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours, a silent question lingering between you. You nodded, giving him the permission he sought, and he smiled—a small, intimate curve of his lips that made your heart skip a beat.

Spencer hands deftly working to remove the last barriers between you. The sensation of the cool air against your skin was a delicious contrast to the heat radiating from his touch, sending shivers of need cascading through your body.

The room was filled with a symphony of soft sounds: the rustle of fabric as Spencer undressed you, the quiet hum of the city outside, and the rapid, excited beat of your own heart. The smell of your mingled scents—his cologne, a hint of your perfume, and the unmistakable musk of arousal—filled the air, creating an intoxicating atmosphere that heightened every sensation.

As Spencer’s hands continued their journey, his lips followed, pressing soft, heated kisses to every inch of exposed skin. The feel of his mouth against your body was electric, each kiss a spark that ignited a fire deep within you. You could hear the quiet, appreciative noises he made as he explored, a low hum of approval that vibrated through you, making your skin tingle with fever.

His mouth found the sensitive spot at the base of your throat, and he lingered there, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin and his teeth scraping behind. The sensation was exquisite, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You moaned softly, your fingers threading through his hair, holding him close as he continued his ministrations.

His mouth continued its journey, trailing kisses down the length of your torso, his breath hot and humid against your skin. Each touch of his lips was a promise, a hint of the pleasures yet to come. You could feel the gentle scrape of his stubble against your skin, a delightful roughness that added to the sensory overload.

Spencer’s hands found their way to your thighs, his fingers curling around the soft flesh as he gently parted them, creating space for himself between your legs. The anticipation was almost unbearable, a sweet ache that thrummed through your veins as you waited for his next move.

He paused for a moment, his breath warm and heavy against your inner thigh as he looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. The look in his eyes sent a jolt of electricity through your body, a silent communication of his intentions that left you breathless.

When he finally moved, it was with a purpose and a tenderness that took your breath away. His mouth found its mark, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the most intimate part of you. The sensation was overwhelming, a rush of pleasure that left you gasping and trembling beneath him.

Spencer's tongue traced a path of fire, the wet heat of his mouth a stark contrast to the cool air around you. The feeling of his tongue against you was indescribable, a perfect blend of softness and pressure that had you writhing with need. You could hear the wet, rhythmic sounds of his movements, a deliciously sinful symphony that filled the room and drove you wild with desire.

The taste of you seemed to spur him on, his movements growing more insistent, more confident as he explored every inch of you. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady as he lavished attention on you, each stroke of his tongue sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body.

You could feel the tension building, a tight coil of desire that wound tighter and tighter with each passing second. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your hands clutching at the sheets as you tried to hold on, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations Spencer was creating.

And then, with a final, masterful stroke of his tongue, the coil snapped, sending you spiraling into a blinding wave of ecstasy. Your body arched off the bed, a cry of pure pleasure escaping your lips as you surrendered to the intense release. Every nerve ending seemed to ignite, the pleasure radiating out from your core in waves that left you trembling and gasping for breath.

Spencer didn't stop, his movements gentling but never ceasing as he guided you through the aftershocks, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were spent and boneless beneath him. The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths, the quiet hum of the city outside, and the beating of your heart.

As the world slowly came back into focus, you felt Spencer's weight shift, his body sliding up to join you on the bed. He gathered you into his arms, his touch gentle and soothing as he held you close. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your cheek, the warmth of his skin a comforting presence that grounded you.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. "I may have misread you…" you murmured, your voice still breathless from the intensity of the experience.

Spencer looked at you, curiosity flickering in his eyes as he tried to read your expression. "How so?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent another wave of heat through you.

“I thought you were some nerdy dork who wouldn’t know what to do,” you confessed with a teasing grin, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. “You proved me so wrong.”

Spencer chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm like honey, his eyes filled with a mix of pride and affection. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. The touch was tender and sweet, a stark contrast to the intense passion you'd just shared.

As the warmth of his kiss lingered on your skin, a flicker of awareness crept into your mind, reminding you of the vulnerability of your current position. Spencer was undeniably pretty, fun, and, as you had just discovered, incredibly talented with his mouth. But letting him get too close, emotionally, was a different matter—a potential disaster waiting to happen.

You felt a pang of uncertainty, a reminder that you'd let yourself get carried away in the heat of everything today. The thought of letting him see more of you, of exposing the parts of yourself you kept hidden, was both thrilling and terrifying.

Gently, you scooted away, creating a small space between you on the bed. Spencer watched you with a slight frown, his brow furrowing in concern as he noticed the shift in your demeanor.

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching out to touch your arm. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m good. Just… taking a breather.”

He nodded, understanding but still curious. The moment hung between you, a delicate balance of intimacy and distance that you both navigated carefully.

Wanting to redirect the focus and return the favor, you shifted onto your knees, your movements deliberate and confident. Spencer’s eyes widened slightly as he watched you, questioning flickering in his gaze.

You leaned forward, letting your hands glide over the planes of his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. The sensation was intoxicating, each touch sending a spark of desire through your body as you explored the contours of his torso.

“Now, Doctor,” you said, your voice low and teasing, “I think it’s my turn to show you what I can do.”

Spencer’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire as he watched you with rapt attention. “I’m not going to stop you,” he replied, a playful edge to his voice as he leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows to give you full access.

You grinned, pleased by his response as you moved lower, your hands trailing down the length of his body. The texture of his skin was smooth and warm under your touch, each muscle firm and defined as you explored every inch with a deliberate slowness that made his breath catch.

The room was filled with the quiet rustle of sheets, the soft sounds of your movements as you shifted to straddle his legs, your body settling comfortably between his thighs. The anticipation in the air was palpable, a charged energy that seemed to crackle with each passing second.

You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his stomach, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your lips. The sensation was exhilarating, a rush of power and intimacy that left you wanting more.

Spencer let out a quiet groan, his head falling back against the pillows as he surrendered to the sensations you were creating. The sound sent a thrill through you, a confirmation of the effect you had on him, and it spurred you on, encouraging you to continue your exploration.

You let your hands wander lower, tracing the line of his waistband before slipping beneath the fabric, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your fingers. Spencer’s breath hitched again, a soft, needy sound that made your heart race.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice a teasing whisper as you glanced up at him, enjoying the way his eyes were half-lidded with desire, his lips parted in want.

Spencer nodded, his voice a breathless murmur. “Mhm.”

You smiled, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him so open and vulnerable beneath you. It was a heady feeling, one that made you want to give him everything you had, to explore every inch of him and discover all the ways you could make him come undone.

With a gentle touch, you eased his pants lower, revealing more of the skin you so desperately wanted to explore. The cool air kissed his skin, sending a shiver through him as you continued your ministrations, your hands and lips moving with a purposeful intent that left him gasping.

The texture of his skin under your fingers was smooth and warm, a contrast to the slightly rough fabric of his pants as they slid down his legs. You could feel the faint, steady beat of his pulse beneath your fingertips. The cool air seemed to heighten every sensation, sharpening the feeling of your touch against his bare skin.

As you explored lower, you could hear the soft, almost involuntary sounds Spencer made in response to your touch—a quiet gasp, a low moan, the sharp intake of breath when you grazed a particularly sensitive spot. Each sound proving the effect you were having on him, encouraging you to continue your exploration with renewed confidence.

You leaned in, your lips brushing over the expanse of skin just above his waistband, savoring the slightly salty taste of him. The feel of your mouth against his skin drew another low groan from Spencer, a needy sound that reverberated through your body and filled the room.

The slight roughness of his sparse hair beneath your lips was a contrast to the smooth skin of his abdomen, and you reveled in the differences, your fingers dancing over every inch as you memorized the planes and angles of his body. The heat radiating from him was intoxicating, drawing you closer, urging you to explore further.

With every touch and kiss, you could feel the tension coiling tighter within him, a palpable energy that seemed to thrumming in the air around you. His muscles tensed under your hands, responding to your every movement with a sensitivity that only served to heighten your own arousal.

His hips shifted slightly, an involuntary movement that brought him closer to you, seeking more of the sensations you were creating. The friction of your touch against him was a delicious torment, each caress, each brush of your lips a promise of the release he so desperately craved.

You continued down, your mouth trailing lower with a deliberate slowness that was as much for your pleasure as it was for his. The taste of his skin lingered on your lips, a reminder of the connection you shared, the chemistry that burned brightly between you.

Spencer’s hands found their way to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he guided you closer to his bulge that you had been neglecting, his touch both gentle and insistent. The slight tug at your scalp sent a shiver through you, a thrill of eagerness that urged you to continue your exploration with even more fervor.

Your lips traveled lower, past where he wanted you, tracing a path along the sensitive skin of his inner thigh with your lips and tongue, where you could feel the taut muscle beneath. The sensation of his skin against your lips, the warmth of his body, the subtle tremor that ran through him as you pressed a lingering kiss to his hip—all of it combined to create a heady mix of sensations that left you breathless.

The soft rustle of the sheets beneath you was the only sound in the room aside from the quiet, rhythmic hum of Spencer’s breathing and the occasional low moan that slipped past his lips. You could feel the way his body responded to your touch with an eagerness that mirrored your own. It was a dance of give and take, a perfect harmony of movements and sensations that left you both on the edge of control.

Spencer’s hands tightened in your hair, a gentle reminder of his presence, his need, and you responded by drawing him deeper into the sensations, your touch sure and steady as you worked to bring him closer to the edge. 

Finally, putting the poor man out of his misery, you hooked your fingers in his waistband and pulled his briefs down. Exposing him to the cool air, causing him to shiver. Then, because you’re not a monster, you licked a slow stripe up the side of his red, hard cock, causing a very loud groan to fall from between Spencer's lips.

The moment stretched out, filled with a tension that was both electric and tangible. The room was filled with the soft sounds of your shared breaths, a quiet rhythm that underscored the intense moment.

Your fingers brushed against his skin, tracing a delicate path along the line of his hip bone. You could feel the subtle tremor that ran through him. The warmth of his skin was intoxicating, drawing you closer, urging you to continue your exploration with a sense of urgency that bordered on desperate.

Spencer’s body was a study in contrasts—the hard lines of muscle beneath the softness of skin, the way he shivered under your touch even as he leaned into it, seeking more of the sensations you were creating. 

The cool air caressed his exposed skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of your touch. You watched as goosebumps erupted along his flesh, a physical manifestation of his heightened arousal. The sight sent a thrill of satisfaction through you, a reminder of the power you held in this moment.

You leaned in, your breath warm against his cock as you placed a soft, lingering kiss along the tip. The taste of him was addictive, a heady mix of salt and musk that left you wanting more. The feeling of his skin beneath your lips was electric, sending shivers of excitement through your body.

Spencer let out a quiet groan, a low, primal sound that reverberated through the room and sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. His hands found their way, deeper somehow, in your hair, his grip firm and steady as he urged you closer, his need evident in the way he moved you.

His cock twitched in response to your touch, the sensation was dizzying, a heady mix of power and vulnerability that left you breathless. You allowed your fingers to explore further, tracing a slow, deliberate path along the length of his shaft. The texture was smooth and warm, a perfect contrast to the cool air that surrounded you. You could feel the faint tremor in his muscles, a testament to his struggle to maintain control in the face of such intense sensation.

“Please, please do something,” Spencer nearly whined, his voice tinged with desperation as he watched you with wide eyes, his body trembling with need.

As you finally leaned in, allowing your mouth to join the dance of sensation and touch, you heard Spencer’s breath hitch in his throat, a quiet sound of desire that filled the room. The taste of him on your tongue was intoxicating, a rich, heady mix of salt and musk that left you craving more.

The moment your lips made contact, Spencer released a shuddering exhale, his body responding to the heat of your mouth with a visceral intensity that took your breath away. His hips shifted involuntarily, each movement sending ripples of sensation through your body as well.

The sound of your mouth against his skin was almost hypnotic, a rhythmic whisper that echoed through the room, mingling with Spencer's soft moans and the quiet rustle of the sheets beneath him. You felt the gentle rise and fall of his abdomen as he tried to steady his breathing, the quiet hitch in his breath every time you shifted, adjusted your grip, or took him deeper.

His taste lingered on your tongue as you bobbed your head along his shaft. The feeling of his smooth, taught skin between your lips only caused the mess between your thighs to grow. You were soaking wet at the sight of the man who so confidently took you apart, writhing at the feeling of your mouth on him. 

Spencer's hands found their way to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he tried to hold onto the last ounce of his control. His touch was gentle but insistent, a silent plea for you to continue, to explore every inch of him until he was lost in the overwhelming pleasure that you were so skillfully creating.

As you continued your ministrations, you couldn't help but revel in the power you held over him, the way you could make his body respond to your every touch, your every movement. It was intoxicating, the thrill of being the one to unravel him, to bring him to the edge and watch as he teetered there, a breathless, trembling mess beneath you.

The quiet, involuntary sounds that slipped past his lips were music to your ears, a symphony of pleasure and need that urged you on, pushing you to explore further, to discover every hidden reaction, every secret spot that made him gasp and moan.

Spencer's breathing grew more ragged, his chest heaving with each breath as you brought him closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the tension coiling tighter within him, a living thing that pulsed and throbbed in your mouth, begging for release.

With each pass of your mouth, each flick of your tongue, you felt him draw nearer to the brink, the pleasure building to a fever pitch that left you both trembling with need. You pulled up to his tip, sucking harshly and greedily taking down the precum you were rewarded. 

“Fuck, fuck, Y/N. You have to pull off, I’m gonna—”

Finally, as you felt him begin to unravel beneath you, his grip on your hair tightening, you knew he was on the verge of release. The realization sent a thrill of satisfaction through you, a sense of accomplishment at having brought him to this point, this state of utter abandon.

But, you pulled off, just as he asked.

His eyes fluttered open, glazed with desire, and a mixture of relief and frustration washed over his features. The air between you was charged with electricity, thick as you gazed up at him, watching the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he tried to catch his breath.

“Thank you,” he breathed, his voice a low, rough whisper filled with gratitude and a hint of desperation. His hands remained in your hair, holding you there as if afraid you might disappear, the heat of his skin still pulsing beneath your touch.

You sat back on your heels, his hands falling, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you surveyed the man before you. Spencer lay sprawled across the bed, a beautiful mess of tousled hair, flushed skin, and a very hard cock leaning on his tummy.

“Didn’t want to spoil the fun too soon?” you teased, your voice sultry and full of promise.

Spencer let out a breathless laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement and unabashed desire. “I didn’t expect you to be so... good at this,” he admitted, his voice still tinged with awe as he watched you with a newfound appreciation.

“Surprised?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you reached out to trail your fingers lazily along his thigh, feeling the residual tremor of his muscles beneath your touch.

“Pleasantly,” he replied, his voice rich with honesty as he met your gaze, a slow smile spreading across his lips.

“Well, the night’s not over yet,” you said, your tone full of suggestion as you shifted your position, moving with a deliberate slowness that kept Spencer’s gaze locked onto you. The dim lighting cast a warm, intimate glow over your skin, highlighting every curve and angle as you made your intentions clear.

Spencer watched you, his eyes darkening as he realized what you were doing. You were presenting yourself to him, offering yourself. The realization sent a fresh wave of heat through his already overwrought senses.

Your movements were slow and deliberate, a sensual dance that had Spencer transfixed, his breath catching in his throat as he watched you. You turned slightly, your back arching gracefully, presenting your body to him in a way that left no doubt about what you wanted. The smoothness of your skin and the glistening of your core caught the light, every curve accentuated by the shadows, and Spencer couldn't help but let his gaze travel over you, taking in every detail, every nuance.

“You like what you see, Doctor?” you teased with a shake of your hips, your voice a sultry purr that sent a shiver down Spencer’s spine. 

His response was a low, almost guttural sound that spoke volumes, a wordless expression of the desire that burned so brightly within him. He shifted slightly, his body tense as his hands reached out as if drawn to you by an invisible force.

“I like it very much,” he murmured, his voice a husky blend of awe and hunger as he drank in the sight of you. The way you held yourself, the confidence in your gaze, the promise of what was to come—it was all intoxicating, drawing him in and leaving him utterly captivated.

Spencer moved closer, the soft rustle of the sheets beneath him a quiet accompaniment to the sounds and sensations of desire that filled the room. Your skin was warm under Spencer’s touch as his hands found their way to your hips, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin, exploring every inch with a deliberate slowness that left you both breathless.

The feeling of his hands on you was electric, a perfect blend of tenderness and urgency that made your heart race and your senses sing. Every touch, every caress, sent shivers of pleasure racing through your body, leaving you aching for more, your skin hypersensitive to every nuance of his touch.

Spencer’s hands traveled with a gentle insistence, mapping the contours of your body with a touch that was both reverent and possessive. You could feel the subtle tremor in his fingers, the heat of his palms as they pressed against your ass.

His breath was warm against your ear, his voice a low murmur as he whispered, “You’re so sexy.” The words sent a thrill through you, a spark that ignited a fire in your belly and left you yearning for more of his touch, more of the sensations that seemed to flood your senses with every passing moment.

You turned your head slightly, your lips finding his in a kiss that was equal parts tenderness and demand. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mix of warmth and spice that made your heart race and your senses reel.

Spencer pulled away, and you felt the bed shift as he repositioned himself behind you. The room was filled with a quiet hum of anticipation, the air thick with the charged tension between you. You could feel his gaze on you, a tangible heat that seemed to sear into your skin.

“You’re sure?” he asked, his voice a low, rumbling purr that sent a shiver down your spine. There was an earnestness in his question, a genuine desire to ensure that you were comfortable and ready.

“Positive, Doctor,” you replied, the words laced with playful confidence as you glanced over your shoulder to meet his gaze. The term of endearment had become a safeguard to you, not wanting to get too used to saying his name.

Spencer’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm and relief, a small, appreciative smile tugging at his lips. “Do you have a condom?” he asked, his tone laced with a hint of embarrassment as he admitted his unpreparedness.

“You don’t?” you teased, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief. It was a playful jab, meant to lighten the mood and add a touch of humor to the charged atmosphere.

“I didn’t expect this to happen…” Spencer admitted, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson as he chuckled awkwardly. 

“That’s really sweet, actually,” you replied, your voice softening as you took in the sight of him. The sincerity in his words made your heart skip a beat, a reminder of why you had been drawn to him in the first place. “Yes, I do,” you confirmed, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. “Let me up real quick.”

Spencer playfully groaned, a sound filled with exaggerated reluctance as he shifted to give you space. But before you could move, he leaned down, leaving a small, teasing bite on your asscheek—a cheeky gesture that sent a spark of pleasure through you.

“Down, boy!” you teased, your voice a mock admonishment as you slipped out of his grasp, your feet finding the floor with a soft thud. You cast a playful glance back at him, enjoying the sight of him sprawled on the bed, watching you while he pulled on his own cock.

As you turned back to the bed, condom in hand, you found Spencer watching you with an intensity that made your heart race. The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—was both thrilling and humbling.

“Got it,” you announced, your voice a playful sing-song as you waved the packet in the air. Spencer’s eyes lit up with amusement, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he watched you return to the bed.

You climbed back onto the mattress, feeling the familiar give of the sheets beneath your knees as you settled in beside him. The warmth of his body was a comforting presence, a stark contrast to the cool air of the room that brushed against your skin.

Spencer reached for you, his touch gentle and insistent as he guided you back into position. His hands were warm against your skin, the chemistry seemed to crackle between you.

Spencer tore open the foil packet, the soft crinkle of the wrapper a prelude to the main event. You could smell the faint scent of latex from the condom, mingling with the lingering aroma of his cologne—a spicy, woodsy scent that was undeniably masculine and entirely Spencer.

Spencer moved with a practiced ease, his fingers deft and sure as he prepared himself, rolling the condom down with a kind of confident precision that spoke of experience. The sight of him handling himself with such ease sent a thrill racing through you, your breath catching at the implication. It was a heady rush of desire that made your heart race and your skin flush with heat.

As he finished, Spencer's eyes locked onto yours, a smoldering intensity burning within them that made your pulse quicken. The weight of his gaze was almost tangible, a touch that was as intimate as any caress. You could feel the desire radiating off of him.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. His tone was full of promise, a dark velvet sound that wrapped around you like a warm embrace, holding you captive in its depths.

“Yes,” you breathed, the word barely a whisper as it slipped from your lips, heavy with need. Your body ached for his touch, every fiber of your being attuned to the promise of pleasure that awaited you.

Spencer leaned forward, his hands finding your hips with a surety that left you breathless. His touch was firm and possessive, a silent promise of the pleasure he intended to deliver. You could feel the warmth of his skin against yours, a delicious contrast to the cool air that still lingered around you.

His lips brushed against your ear, a featherlight touch that sent a thrill racing through you, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “I bet you feel as good as you taste,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. The confession was both intimate and incendiary, stoking the flames of your arousal until you were burning for him.

“Shit,” you whispered back, a high pitched sound that left your lips before you could think better of it. Spencer responded with a quiet, breathy chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. His hands tightened on your hips, the pressure of his fingers was grounding.

He positioned himself at your entrance, the sensation sending a jolt through your body. The tip of him brushed against your core, a featherlight touch that made your breath catch and your heart race. 

Slowly, carefully, he began to push forward, the pressure building with each inch as he entered you. The feeling was exquisite, a slow, delicious burn that stretched you around him, filling you completely. The friction was intoxicating, a perfect balance of pleasure and pressure that had you gasping for breath.

Spencer let out a low, shuddering moan as he sank into you, his fingers digging into your hips with a possessive urgency that left you breathless. The sound was raw and primal, a testament to the pleasure that coursed through him, mirrored in the sensations that raced through your own body.

The room was filled with the sounds of your shared breaths, a quiet combination of gasps and moans that mingled with the rustle of the sheets beneath you. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and desire, a heady mix making you hyper aware of every touch, every sensation.

As he began to move, Spencer set a steady, deliberate pace that left you reeling with sensation. Each thrust was a measured blend of power and precision, a rhythm that built slowly, methodically, until it had you teetering on the edge of control.

“You feel so fucking good,” Spencer breathed, his voice a low, gravelly growl that sent a thrill racing through you. 

“So big,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to find words in the midst of the overwhelming sensations that flooded your senses. The feel of him moving inside you, the way he filled you completely, was a pleasure that bordered on overwhelming, leaving you breathless and aching for more.

Spencer’s hands moved with a purpose, tracing the curves of your body as he drove you higher, his touch both grounding and incendiary. You could feel the heat of his skin against yours, the way his muscles flexed with each movement, feeling the strength and control he wielded.

His lips found your neck, trailing a line of heated kisses along the sensitive skin that sent shivers down your spine. The feel of his mouth against your skin was electric, a tantalizing mix of heat and teeth that left you gasping for breath, your body arching into his touch.

The sensation of his body moving against yours, the delicious friction as he drove deeper, harder, was a pleasure that threatened to unravel you completely. Each thrust sent waves of ecstasy radiating through you.

“Spencer,” you gasped, the word slipping past your lips as a breathless plea, a desperate cry for more.

His response was immediate, his pace quickening as he drove into you, each movement a perfect blend of power and precision that left you on the brink of release. His hands tightened on your hips, his grip firm and possessive as he pulled you back to meet each of his thrusts. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious friction that sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You could feel the strength in his fingers, the way they dug into your flesh with each powerful motion, grounding you even as you felt yourself being pushed closer and closer to the edge. The heat of his hands against your skin was a stark contrast to the cool air of the room, adding another layer of sensation to the already heady mix.

The sounds of your bodies moving together filled the room, a symphony of wet, rhythmic slaps and breathless gasps that only heightened your arousal. Each thrust sent a new wave of pleasure rippling through you, building in intensity with every movement until you were teetering on the edge of control.

Spencer’s breath was hot against your ear, each exhale a ragged sigh that sent shivers down your spine. “How are you still so tight?” he groaned, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that resonated through your entire body. The words were a potent mix of praise and desire, pushing you even closer to the brink.

Your own breath came in short, ragged gasps, each inhale a struggle as you fought to hold on to your control. “Spencer,” you moaned, your body aching for release.

His response was a deep, primal growl that vibrated through his chest and into your back, his hips snapping forward with a renewed intensity that left you breathless. His hands guided your movements, pulling you back to meet each thrust with a force that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body.

The pressure within you built to a fever pitch, a tight coil that wound tighter and tighter with each powerful thrust. Your senses were overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the sensations, the feel of him driving into you, the sound of his voice in your ear, the taste of salt on your lips as you bit down, trying to hold on just a little longer.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Spencer groaned, his voice a rough, desperate sound that sent a thrill racing through you. “I’m so close.”

The admission was your undoing. The coil within you snapped, sending a wave of blinding ecstasy crashing over you. Your body tensed, every muscle tightening as you cried out, the sound raw and unrestrained as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure.

Spencer continued to move, driving you through the waves of your release with a steady, relentless rhythm that left you trembling and gasping for breath. The feeling of him moving inside you, filling you completely, was a pleasure that bordered on overwhelming, each thrust sending new ripples of sensation through your already oversensitive body.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm faded, Spencer’s pace grew more erratic, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps. You could feel the strain in his muscles, the way his fingers dug into your hips with a new urgency.

“Spencer,” you whispered, your voice a soft, breathless plea as you turned your head to catch his gaze. The look in his eyes was a perfect reflection of the intensity you felt, raw desire and desperate need that sent another wave of heat through you.

With a final, powerful thrust, Spencer buried himself deep inside you, his body tensing as he reached his own release. The sound of his pleasure—a low, guttural groan—sent a shiver of satisfaction through you.

The room was filled with the quiet sounds of your mingled breaths, a soft, rhythmic counterpoint to the fading echoes of your shared passion. Spencer’s grip on your hips softened, his touch becoming a gentle caress as he leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to the nape of your neck.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice a soft, reverent murmur that sent a final shiver of pleasure through you. 

You turned your head to meet his gaze, a satisfied smile playing on your lips as you caught your breath. “So are you, Doctor.”

Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with affection and lingering desire as he gently helped you shift to a more comfortable position. The warmth of his body against yours was soothing, a perfect counterpoint to the lingering heat of your shared passion. You nestled into his embrace, feeling a sense of peace and contentment settle over you as you allowed yourself to relax in his arms.

The steady rhythm of his breathing, the comforting weight of his presence, lulled you into a state of drowsy contentment. You felt safe and secure in his arms, the events of the night playing through your mind in a haze of satisfaction and warmth.

Slowly, the pull of sleep became too strong to resist, and you allowed yourself to drift off, cocooned in the comforting embrace of the man who had brought you such intense pleasure. The last thing you remembered before slipping into the depths of slumber was the gentle press of Spencer's lips against your forehead, a tender kiss that spoke volumes.

—

Morning came all too soon, the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains and casting a gentle glow over the room. You woke slowly, the memories of the night before still vivid in your mind as you lay in the warmth of Spencer's embrace. For a moment, you allowed yourself to savor the feeling, the sense of belonging that came from being wrapped in his arms.

But reality soon intruded, and you knew that you couldn't stay. With a quiet sigh, you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, moving with practiced ease to avoid waking him. Spencer's face was peaceful in sleep, a small smile playing on his lips that made your heart ache with affection and regret.

You knew he’d be confused when he woke up in your apartment alone. The realization that you had made a mistake by bringing him here weighed heavily on you. You quickly dressed, the rustle of your clothes sounding loud in the otherwise silent room. Every movement felt like a betrayal, a departure from the intimacy you had shared just hours before.

Grabbing a sticky note pad and a pen from your desk, your mind raced as you tried to think of what to write. The pen felt heavy in your hand, the blank surface of the note a stark reminder of the conversation you couldn't have face to face.

Spencer, you wrote, your handwriting shaky and rushed, Thank you for last night. There’s a key under the mat, please lock the door on your way out. Take care.

You placed the note where he would see it, the yellow square stark against the dark wood of your dresser. You stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of him one last time, memorizing the peaceful curve of his lips, the way his hair fell across his forehead.

With a heavy heart, you turned and quietly left the room. You headed for a friend's house, your thoughts a tangled mess of emotions. You needed to stay busy, to distract yourself until you were sure Spencer had left your apartment. As you knocked on the door, you resolved to cherish the memory of the night you had shared with Spencer, even as you moved forward with your life.

—

It had been a month since Spencer's encounter with you. At first, he was extremely confused and hurt, thinking there was a real spark between the two of you. Upon leaving your apartment that morning, he realized he never got your last name or your phone number. He didn't even know your address properly. Technically, he could figure it out quite easily, but he knew if you wanted him to talk to you again, you would have stayed.

For about two weeks, he thought about you every day and night, replaying the moments you shared and trying to understand what went wrong. Initially, he was sad, then worried something might have happened, and finally, he became livid at the thought that you might have used him. But now, it had been a month, and he had resigned himself to forget you and move on with his life.

Back to regular life, Spencer walked into the bullpen, immediately sensing something unusual. Everyone was not-so-subtly glancing toward Hotch’s office, their expressions twisted with curiosity and surprise.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

“There’s a woman in Hotch’s office,” Emily replied, her eyes flicking toward the closed door.

“Okay?” Spencer prompted, waiting for more context.

“She knew my name, man,” Derek added, sounding both impressed and slightly confused.

“Uh oh, did you forget one of your many lovers?” Spencer joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Not cool, kid. I’d remember a pretty face like hers,” Derek said, shaking his head.

“How else would she know you?” Emily asked, her curiosity mirroring Spencer’s.

Just then, the door to Hotch’s office opened, and you stepped out, accompanied by Aaron. “Guys, this is Agent Y/N Y/L,” Hotch said, introducing you to the team. “She will be joining us while JJ is on maternity leave.”

Spencer’s heart stopped as he saw you. He felt all the blood drain from his face, a wave of nausea threatening to overwhelm him. There you were, the woman who had loved him and then left him without a trace, now standing in front of him in the bullpen.

You seemed calm and composed, completely unaware of the storm raging inside Spencer. You gave a polite smile and nodded at the team, your eyes briefly locking with Spencer’s before moving on, not recognizing him immediately, or not caring.

“Nice to meet you all,” you said, your voice steady and professional. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

The rest of the team greeted you warmly, exchanging pleasantries, while Spencer remained rooted to his spot, his mind racing. Finally, your eyes fell on him and really looked.

“Hi, Doctor,” you said calmly, your voice steady and composed.

“Y/N,” he replied, his tone clipped and strained.

“Hold up, do you two know each other?” Derek asked, his curiosity piqued.

“I remember you!” Penelope cut in, her eyes lighting up with recognition. “You were at the Doctor Who convention! Madame de Pompadour! You looked beautiful.”

“Thank you!” you responded with a warm smile. “I don’t recall meeting you, I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, we didn’t meet, sweetie,” Penelope giggled kindly. “I saw you talking to Reid here.”

“Ah,” you said, a hint of realization dawning in your eyes as you glanced back at Spencer.

The strain between you and Spencer was tangible, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. Spencer’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, trying to process the fact that you were now standing in front of him, a part of his professional life.

“So, how do you two know each other?” Emily asked, her eyes darting between the two of you.

“We… met at the convention,” Spencer said, his voice strained as he struggled to keep his emotions in check.

“Yes, we did,” you confirmed, keeping your tone neutral. “It was a brief encounter.”

Spencer's jaw tightened at your choice of words, the hurt and confusion from a month ago resurfacing with a vengeance. He knew he had to keep it together, at least for now, but the unresolved feelings were making it difficult.

“Small world, huh?” Derek said with a chuckle, oblivious to the undercurrents of tension.

“Indeed,” you replied, your eyes flicking back to Spencer. “I’m looking forward to working with all of you.”

Spencer nodded stiffly, his mind still racing with questions and emotions. He knew he needed to talk to you, to get some answers, but now wasn’t the time. He would have to wait for a more private moment to confront you about what had happened.

For now, he had to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside his personal turmoil to maintain his professionalism. But as he watched you interact with the rest of the team, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over.

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[0vergrowngraveyard]

He still remembered the first time he called Tails “lil’ bro” out loud. The kit’s reaction was unforgettable.

It felt natural to Sonic. He’d already been referring to the kit as his little brother to cashiers and any other stranger who got nosy and asked what a blue hedgehog was doing with a two tailed fox kit without either of their parents around. They always gave him an odd look but that didn’t matter. He didn’t exactly care what these people he’d probably never see again thought of his and Tails’ little life. They weren’t in it so they didn’t get to have an opinion about it.

However, he apparently never voiced the whole little brother thing to the kit himself. Part of him didn’t think he needed to and that it was pretty obvious that they were basically family at this point. Sure it had only been a few months since they met, but Sonic only needed a few months to decide that this kid was his and there wasn’t anything anyone could do about it.

In hindsight, he probably should’ve realized that Tails wouldn’t have come to that conclusion. He knew they were friends, best friends even, but Sonic could tell that the kid was still nervous about the whole situation between them. Whenever he thought he did something wrong, he always had this scared look in his eyes as he apologized over and over again. It was like he was still expecting the hedgehog to just dump him somewhere and leave him alone again.

There was also the chance that he just didn’t have a very good opinion of families. With his biological one being completely out of the picture and all, Sonic would have been surprised if it left a sour taste in his mouth. Then again, this theory hinged on the idea that he actually remembered his parents which he didn’t seem to, so it was safe to say that it probably wasn’t the case.

(There was a secret third option that had suggested that Tails simply didn’t see him as an older brother figure. Sonic didn’t like to think about that one too much.)

When he finally called Tails “lil’ bro” out loud, the kit stared up at him with the biggest blue eyes he’d ever seen. They almost reminded him of the light blue chaos emerald with how much they were sparkling. Tails asked over and over if he meant it, that he really did see him as a little brother and barreled into the hedgehog when he confirmed. The kid pricked himself on a few quills but he didn’t seem to care, his namesakes spinning in happy circles all the same.

It had been maybe three weeks since then.

Tails never really called him his big brother in public, or in private really. Any time someone asked him who he was with, he’d just silently pointed over at Sonic. When asked what their relationship was, he just fidgeted nervously and ran over to the hedgehog, making it so that Sonic had to explain that they were brothers.

He never held it against the kit, figuring that he was just nervous. He was never comfortable around strangers for obvious reasons so it made sense that he wouldn’t talk to them.

He was just a quiet and anxious kid. That's all it was.

The memory faded away as the sound of a small coughing fit brought him back to reality. He slowly sat up and stretched, looking around their campsite for the source of the noise only to find the culprit where’d he’d been for the past few days now. Sonic sighed and made his way over to him.

The duo hadn’t moved in almost a week. Tails had caught a pretty bad flu and Sonic didn’t want to force him to fly around the zone or travel at supersonic speeds in general. He didn’t think that kind of thing would do him very good when what he needed was fluids and sleep.

Sonic sat down next to the sick kit who had conked out again after his quick coughing fit. He took his glove and put the back of his hand on the fox’s forehead. Tails was still burning up, his fur was damp with sweat and his sinuses still audibly congested as his small body fought off the intruder.

He sighed again as he put his glove back on. They were nowhere near any hospitals where the kid could lay down in an actual bed and be looked over by professionals. Instead, all he had was the ground, a pillow and blanket, and some broke eleven year old.

Luckily, Sonic had enough money to quickly run off and buy some medicine for the kid but that was pretty much it. His wallet was empty except for a few coins and they were running low on food. Last he checked, they only had two cans of chili left. That was dinner tonight and tomorrow, they’d have to skip breakfast and lunch which wasn’t good for the sick fox.

The medicine made Tails sleep for most of the day so he couldn’t see as Sonic’s worries and doubts started eating the hedgehog alive.

Had he made the right call when he decided to stop looking for a suitable family for the kit? What did he have to offer him, especially right now? He wasn’t fit to be watching over a little kid by any means. They ate the same thing every day, sometimes they didn’t eat at all, Sonic was far from a good influence, and their life was full of potential danger. Chaos, the kid had gotten grabbed by Robotnik a few times and almost used as a living battery for one of his robots.

To top it all off, Sonic himself was still a kid. What did he know about raising someone?

He loved Tails, he really did. Without fail, he looked forward to seeing him the next day and continuing their little adventure to save the island one zone at a time. He loved the little guy’s laugh, his smile, the way he tilted his head when he was confused and all his other quirks that made him who he is. For a bit, he kinda thought it was weird for an eleven year old to have a four year old best friend. But when that four year old just so happens to be the coolest kid you’ve ever met and will ever meet, it really can’t be helped.

But as much as he adored his little tagalong, this wasn’t something he could be selfish about. Part of him was starting to regret telling Tails that he saw him as family and getting his hopes up because if this didn’t work out after all-

“Mmm…Sonic?” A quiet little voice weakly called out as its owner temporarily returned to the waking world.

Sonic snapped out of his self loathing and directed his attention towards the kit, “Hey, bud. How you feelin’?” He asked, putting a hand on the kit’s head and gently petting him.

“m’body still aches… ‘nd m’nose is still stuff-“ he cut himself off with one sneeze, then another, “stuffy…”

He went to wipe his nose with his paw, but Sonic beat him to it as he cleaned off his little brother’s muzzle with a small scrap of cloth. “Well, you still feel pretty warm. You wanna try drinking some water?”

The kit’s watery eyes stared off into space as he thought about it before he gave a small nod that was barely visible. Sonic helped him sit up, wincing at how his ears drooped and how limp his tails were. The fox rubbed his eyes with the back of his paw and let out a squeaky yawn as Sonic fetched the big water bottle he had stolen from the pharmacy he got the medicine at.

(He probably could’ve stolen the medicine too and saved some money. What would they have done? Chase after him?)

He handed the bottle to the kit and put a hand on his back as Tails slowly brought the bottle to his mouth and drank, making sure not to spill any even in his state of delirium.

When he was done, he handed the bottle back to Sonic who put the cap back on and set it to the side. “That any better?”

Tails nodded, “mm-hm…it tasted good.”

Sonic chuckled at the kid’s slurred words, a firm indicator that he was once again fading quickly, “I’ll bet. Why don’t you lay back down and get some more sleep, bud.”

He nodded again and laid back down, tails weakly curling around him as Sonic tucked him in nice and snug.

“Sonic?”

“Tails?”

“Why’d you look sad earlier?” The fox asked, fighting against his heavy eyelids to stay awake a little longer.

The hedgehog blinked at him, “You were awake?”

Tails shifted a bit, “Mm…kinda..b’also kinda not..”

Sonic lifted his hand to the kit’s head, scritching behind his ear and trying to ignore just how warm he felt, “You sure you weren’t just imagining things? You might’ve just been out of it, kiddo.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, “i ‘unno..maybe..” he nuzzled into his pillow, “b’ you looked pretty upset…”

“I’m all good, bud.” Sonic promised, “You just gotta worry about getting better so we can get back to kick Ro-butt-nik’s butt, alright?”

Tails nodded and finally allowed his eyes to close, “M’sorry i got sick…”

“No need to apologize for that, lil’ bro.” He shook his head, “I’ll wake you up when it’s time for dinner, alright?”

“okay big bro…” was the last thing the fox managed to get out before he fell asleep for what would be the next few hours.

He continued scritching until he made sure the kit was out. He then pulled his hand back and just stared at him.

Big bro…

It shouldn’t have meant so much to him, it really shouldn’t have, but Sonic couldn’t help the smile that forced its way onto his muzzle as fondness filled his entire chest, squeezing him tight.

Never in a million years did he ever think he’d be called someone’s brother, let alone be part of a family. He always thought that kind of life would weigh him down and force him to stop moving.

He thought he’d hate it and yet here he was, in the middle of Hill Top Zone with the only person in Mobius he considered to be family.

He wouldn’t want it any other way.

He placed the water bottle in arm’s length of the fox just in case as he picked up the dirty cloth and ran down to the river nearby to wash it off for later use. When he returned, he put it back in the backpack and got out their cooking supplies and a can of chili to start making dinner.

Maybe he wasn’t the most qualified to be looking after a four year old, but that didn’t mean he was about to quit just because he’d hit a rough spot.

This kid was his, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do about it. Not even his own self doubts.