#I just think these two are really interesting standing side by side

[brainrot-of-a-thot]

o em geeee so ya know how umemiya is super protective of kotoha but like imagine how protective he would be of reader esp if they were dating :’))

BUT LIKE i wonder how he would react when reader was actually trying to defend/protect kotoha but ended up getting hurt in the process. how do you think he’ll react?

(im not really sure how requests work but if you don’t want to write something abt this it’s totally okay! taking the time to read my lil brain rot is more than enough for me!)

back off. [umemiya]

“I think you should back off.” umemiya said, tone even and smooth — he sounded closely like himself, but your spine tingled with a sense of danger; though it wasn’t directed at you, you’d never heard such anger saturate umemiya’s voice before, and it was downright scary. for a moment, you even felt a brief pang of sympathy for the pushy creep that you had just been wishing a painful death on seconds earlier.

a/n: okay yes nonnie i love this brainrot here!! like ume, i am protective of kotoha myself (she’s just so freaking precious and deserves the whole world) and also — protective ume gets me going 🫠

wc: 1.2k

c/w: fem!reader, creepy guy being creepy (pls don’t be like this fellas), language, protective!reader, protective!ume, brief violence towards reader (creep leaves a bruise around her wrist), soft!ume, established relationships, hurt/comfort and generously sprinkled fluff

“c’mon, sweetheart, just one date couldn’t hurt, yeah?”

your fingers tightened around the handle of the spoon, fingernails digging painfully into your slightly sweaty palm.

this creep had been flirting with kotoha non-stop since he entered pothos, and even when kotoha had made her disinterest blatantly clear, he still wouldn’t back off.

normally, you’d be jumping up to her defense; but kotoha was strong-willed and independent, and you knew from experience that she could stand for herself — so, you opted to merely keep an ear and an eye out on the situation, and to observe and gauge the way the man acted. should things take a turn for the worse, you’d be at her side in a split second.

you weren’t necessarily the best at fighting, but thanks the umemiya, you knew some basic self defense; and given the look of this guy, you had a strong feeling he hadn’t been in very many brawls. even someone like you could probably drop him.

“look, I’ve already told you I’m not interested. I’d appreciate it if you left my restaurant, sir.” kotoha seethed, and truly, you were impressed by just how even she kept her tone. if it were you, you’d be screaming colorful insults at the man and demanding he drag his ass down to hell where he belongs.

“one night with me, baby, and I promise you’ll be interested.” the man slurred, completely ignoring kotoha’s request for him to leave. alright, if he didn’t turn towards that door in point two seconds you were really going to lose it.

“I said no. now leave.” kotoha snapped, her tone raising above a professional level now. you slid your eyes over to observe your close friend; her body was trembling from anger and her face was turned into a scowl — and though you couldn’t see the man’s face clearly you could see the way his patience snapped from the sudden hard line of his shoulders.

your body was moving before your brain could catch up — you were out of your seat and at the creep’s side just in time to catch his wrist as he lifted his hand to reach out to kotoha.

“don’t even think about it.” you growled, fingernails digging into the bare flesh of his arm. the man whipped his head to the side to pin you down with a venomous glare.

“and who the hell are you?” he spat, but then his eyes traveled down your body and his lips pulled into a downright lecherous smirk.

“ooh, my bad; hello there, sweetie. and just where were you hiding?” he cooed, and you couldn’t help but mentally compare his voice to a hissing snake. you had to shove away the urge to wrench away in disgust.

“she’s not interested. you need to leave.” you ground out, and the man simply smirked — it was irksome and annoying, and you truly wanted to just punch it off of his face.

“but I quite like it here,” the man wisped, tugging his arm out of your grip. “there’s two feisty women right in front of me; how can a guy willingly leave that?”

“a guy can when he knows he’s not wanted.” you hissed, glaring icy daggers into his face. “you need to leave. before I lose my patience.”

the man’s eyes widened briefly before his face split open in a bout of loud, raucous, ear-grating laughter. your irritation was only building the longer you stood in this man’s presence.

“oh, whew, wow, holy shit — I needed that laugh sweetheart; seriously, you think I would be scared of you—”

the man’s sentence was cut off by a gruff yell as you hooked your foot behind his ankle and shoved him — he consequently stumbled and would have hit the floor, if it weren’t for his hand shooting out to grab a hold of your wrist on the way down.

pain lanced through your hand and wrist as his full weight threatened to pull you down with him; it was a miracle you’d managed to stay upright, but your wrist was definitely feeling the strain of it.

“let me go, shitdick!” you exclaimed, attempting to pull your wrist free — you could hear kotoha scrambling behind the counter, the metallic slide of a drawer opening and a shrill ‘shhhhink’ sound, but you were too focused on the man in front of you to bother looking in her direction. he was quickly rising to his feet, and he looked absolutely pissed.

“you’re really trying to start shit with me, you stupid bitch? what, you think because you’re a woman I won’t lay you out flat?!”

your heart thundered in your chest as his fingers tightened around your wrist — there was a cold feeling seeping into your muscles, a sensation that kickstarted something primal within your brain; fear. that fear took deeper root when the man found his balance, towering over you like some looming shadow. you flinched away as the man’s other hand flew into the air, no doubt wrenching back in preparation to land a blow — seconds passed, but the blow never came, and when you popped open an eye you noticed that your earlier prediction had proved true; the man’s hand was indeed loaded with a punch.

but it had been stopped by another hand, one that gripped his wrist tightly. your heart fluttered and your stomach swooped with relief. you’d recognize that hand anywhere.

“I think it would be wise for you to back off now.”

umemiya’s tone was even, smooth, and not much different than all the other times you’d heard it — but a cold shiver still crept up your spine; it wasn’t aimed at you, but the anger that saturated umemiya’s voice was palpable, the vibrations of which were intense enough to create an atmosphere of pure danger. it was genuinely scary.

you felt the smallest, briefest, most minute pang of sympathy for the man in front of you. had you been on the receiving end of that aura, you would have already pissed yourself — and judging by the look on the man’s face, he was able to detect that aura easily, and was probably about to empty his pathetic bladder right there.

in scattered, rushed, and stumbling movements the man wrenched himself free from umemiya’s grip and turned heel, shoving roughly past umemiya’s shoulder with a muttered “fuck y’all!”

silence followed the bell-tinkle of the man’s departure, but in only a few seconds time you were suddenly gathered into strong, warm arms. the scent of sunny detergent and faint cool aftershave invaded your nose as umemiya pressed you against his chest.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I should have gotten here sooner.”

gone was the previous anger in his voice, now replaced by a thick shroud of sincere regret and the faintest wisp of shame. you wrapped your arms around umemiya’s ribs and nuzzled further into his chest, drawing in lungfuls of that comforting scent. safety.

“it’s okay,” you mumbled, words muffled into umemiya’s broad chest. fingers combed comfortingly through your hair, the feeling turning your muscles into a jelly-like consistency in an embarrassingly short time. “you’re here now.”

umemiya hummed but it sounded rather distant, as if he was distracted by something else — you wondered briefly if you’d have to smother the guilt out of him (as you had done on multiple different occasions, for even things that were innocuous that he somehow felt he should take the blame for), but that worry had quickly melted when umemiya asked, with a slightly shaky voice,

“kotoha… you’re gonna put that knife down now, right?”

[iichaeyj]

TOMORROW'S ESCAPE

marriage or death

the sun had set a while ago and the moon shone above you as you walked back to your home with sunghoon. after a long day of walking, eating, and hanging out with him, he seemed much more docile compared to your most recent interactions with him. as you glanced over at him, admiring his side profile, you couldn't help but feel as though today was a success in terms of getting closer to him.

"you didn't have to walk me home, you know," you tell him as you two walk up the sidewalk. you kick the stones on the ground as you walk, still unable to process this entire day and the time you've spent with your bias.

"i wanted to," he replies calmly. "and like I said, i live close by," he adds, shrugging casually. he turns his head, biting back a smile before looking back forward with a calm demeanor.

"how close do you live anyway?" you ask curiously, glancing up at the taller figure next to you.

he looks around awkwardly, shrugging while gesturing vaguely toward random directions. "just nearby," he says, clearing his throat.

you nod in response, unsure of how to respond to his short statement. to you, it seemed as though he didn't have much interest in talking or laughing or anything at all. even through the day when you two walked around the park nearby and got food together, he always looked around or turned around to mutter something to himself. in all, getting close to him was harder than expected despite the progress that was made.

"the photobooth we went to was a lot of fun," you tell him, smiling at him as you refer to the pictures you two took together in the tiny photobooth by the park.

"yeah, it was. i've never really been done that before, so it was nice," he tells you, giving you a small smile before he looks away again.

if you weren't on an insane mission to save him, you might've fainted from the sight of his smile.

and as you two approach your home, signaling that the day is about to come to an end, you try and figure out what to say. could you invite him out again? would he find it weird for you to be so eager? but then again, you have no clue as to how this will all work out and what will happen in the future. for all you know, the future could be changed for the worse if you didn't act soon.

pulling you out of your thoughts, sunghoon clears his throat as he stands in front of you. "i actually have something to tell you before you go," he tells you.

"what is it?" you ask curiously.

you look up at him, waiting patiently as he clears his throat once again and looks around awkwardly. his hands are tucked into his pockets as he looks down at you, standing straight as he meets your gaze.

however, before he can respond, you suddenly hear the sound of somebody walking up from behind you.

"hey! sunghoon, right?" a voice chimes in, catching sunghoon visibly off guard.

as you turn around, you're met with the sight of jay, aka jongseong park and your first crush, casually walking up to you two. he smiles casually at sunghoon, giving him a curt nod. "i thought i recognized you. you're jake's friend, right?" jay asks sunghoon. jay smiles calmly at him, completely unfazed by sunghoon's gaze hardening at the sight of him.

before sunghoon can respond, jay's eyes shift down to meet yours. he blinks in surprise, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "oh hey, y/n," he adds, clearly surprised to see you there.

"why are you here, jay?" sunghoon asks him, subtly looking jay over.

"just taking a walk," jay shrugs, either unaware or ignoring sunghoon's pointed looks thrown in his direction. "but i didn't think i'd see you here," jay adds, looking over at you again.

"i live here," you deadpan, giving him a weird look.

jay smiles at your reply, now clearly more interested in you than sunghoon. "no need to be so hostile," jay chuckles, tilting his head as he looks you over. "i thought i was the 'peanut butter to your yummy jelly,'" he quotes, reciting your love letter.

you flush in embarrassment, your cheeks burning red. you cursed out your younger self, wishing that you could've been sent back in time a few days earlier so that you could avoid the embarrassment. seeing your reaction, jay chuckles and reaches out to ruffle your hair.

however, you suddenly feel yourself being pulled back and placed behind a taller figure.

"can't you see that she's uncomfortable?" sunghoon asks, frowning as he stands face-to-face with jay. sunghoon straightens up slightly, looking down at jay as he meets his gaze confidently.

jay watches sunghoon curiously, observing him and his reaction as he pulls his hand back. "it was just a joke, park," jay shrugs casually, intrigued by sunghoon's strong reaction.

"save those jokes for someone else, then. we're busy," sunghoon snaps back, his lips curling down into a frown.

"didn't know you two were a 'we,'" jay snorts, rolling his eyes as his smile turns even bigger in amusement at this unexpected situation. he shrugs and turns around, beginning to walk away. "whatever! have fun, you two," jay calls out before he disappears down the street without glancing back.

sunghoon turns back to you, concern evident in his gaze. "are you alright?" he asks you, holding onto your upper arms as he tries to comfort you in whatever way he can.

you nod, unable to tell him that you were feeling more embarrassment from your past self's actions rather than jay himself. in this moment, all you could really see was sunghoon. and if you even tried to think too long about sunghoon's hands on your arms, you might faint from heat exhaustion. "yeah, i'm alright," you tell him, fanning your warm cheeks as you try and stop the redness that's spread all over your face.

mistaking your embarrassment as shame and sadness, sunghoon only holds onto you tighter as he rubs your arm to soothe you. despite your best efforts throughout the day, it was you looking vulnerable that seemed to have the most effect on him.

deciding to take advantage of this current situation, your mind suddenly focuses on your plan. "thanks for being such a good friend," you tell him suddenly, appearing pitiful as you gently touch his hand on your arm.

sunghoon freezes in place, looking at you with wide eyes. he clears his throat, thrown off by both your words and your touch. "friends?" he questions, almost in disbelief.

"we can be friends now, right? surely, you won't mind after all i've been through today," you sigh dramatically, pretending to look off into the street that jay went down.

sunghoon nods, albeit hesitantly. "yeah, friends," he says, his face stiff as he pats your arm in an awkward motion.

"great!" you say cheerily, feeling accomplished as you smile brightly at him. "thanks for hanging out today, it was a lot of fun," you tell him, already making your way to the door of your home. however, before you can go in, you suddenly turn around and look towards him. "oh but before i forget, what did you wanna tell me earlier?" you ask him curiously.

"it's nothing," sunghoon tells you quickly, running his hand through his hair. "good night," he says, giving you a small smile before he runs down the alleyway whilst trying to hide his ears that are burning red.

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A/N: decided to get rid of the views thing bc they're annoying and have no purpose 🥲💔 also this is cheesy ik but idc i love romance

[epiphainie]

Hey, I know you said you don't wanna get into fandom discourse so feel free to ignore this but I wanted to add something to you metioning yesterday how people talk about Bucktommy always bringing in bvddie/eddie somehow. I feel like a lot of people also expect this from canon including Bucktommy fans? like all the posts about which one will feel like the third wheel or which one's gonna get jealous over the other two spending time together and I find that kind of weird. I don't know if I got my point across but you know what I mean?

Hi anon,

Yeah, I think I get what you mean. Gotta say what I saw in my little corner of the BuckTommy fandom, people are usually having fun with those situations/headcanons than actually expecting something out of canon. But I can guess how a certain part of the fandom really thinks how Buck's relationship with Eddie in the context of BuckTommy must be addressed by the show. And I agree with you in that I find this expectation odd because why must they?

Is it because Buck is into men now that his significant other must address how he is/isn't okay with his friendship with another man? This was never an issue or even a topic of conversation in the narrative for Taylor so I cannot think of any other reason for why it would be for Tommy. Or on the flip side, is it because Buck is dating a man now that Eddie will feel like his time with Buck is being limited? Buck has been in a relationship for the most part of their friendship, why would this one be different that the narrative would need to address it?

I think in general in the fandom, regardless of whether people ship them or not, there's this sentiment that Bvddie has such a special relationship that needs to be addressed by their romantic partners / lampshaded by the narrative which strikes me as odd. Not because they don't have a special relationship - they have a very special relationship - but because the perception and related expectations over how the canon should treat this relationship is very different from something like say Hen and Chim. For every very intense Buck and Eddie story beat in this show, you have an equally insane Hen and Chim one. But you don't see anyone reading that relationship as something that needs to be acknowledged (as a threat or something they're okay with) by their spouses. It's an emotionally codependent friendship between a straight man and a lesbian. Not that sexual compatibility matters but they are not interested in each other that way and their partners don't even think about that.

So why would this be any different for Buck (a bi man) and Eddie (a straight man)? Like, even the idea that it must be acknowledged differently by the narrative kinda brings me back to negative stereotypes about queer men and their straight friends even though I know most people don't mean it that way.

Honestly, I kinda think it just comes back to fandoms' urge to read the intensity of relationships as romantic when it comes to two attractive men in a way we don't do with other characters. I say we because I've had my share of fandoms and almost exclusively shipped the two guys who were not canon; we just read more into these relationships regardless of whether we actively ship it or not. Like I said, Hen and Chim have some of the insanest relationship moments in this show. Like, can you imagine if something like Jonah happened to Buck and he thinks he's gonna hurt Tommy to get to him but he actually has Eddie and tortures him in front of Buck? Or if Eddie opposes Buck and Tommy getting married like Hen did with Maddie, for example. They would most certainly be read as romantic even if we had the same textual explanation as we did with Hen and Chim.

But the truth is, there is no relationship hierarchy. Platonic relationships can be as deep as romantic ones, what sets them apart is not the degree to how intense they can be, it's the flavor. And as it stands, I don't think the show treats Buck and Eddie's relationship with any different flavor than it does Hen and Chim despite how we treat it in the fandom. And sure, this does not mean realistically no love interest would be weirded out by their friendship (and negative stereotypes about bi people exist in the lgbtq community as well so that could happen too) but I don't see why the narrative would need to go there with Tommy. Like, what would be the purpose of it in-story? The acknowledgment of it would just further perpetuate the queer man in love with his bff thing that we know they said they don't wanna do. They should (and imo will) treat it as they do treat the other platonic relationships on the show.

I'm sorry, this got derailed at one point but whatever, send.

[lyrinsluv]

12:34pm

pretimeskip! kageyama x reader

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

wordcount: 760! :D

you’d just transferred to karasuno after moving back to your dads side of the family. of course, living in the miyagi prefecture was a complete switch from living in the urban area of tokyo. and naturally, getting to know everyone in the middle of the year was really awkward, so you didn’t bother. being in class 1-5 wasn’t too difficult, even though everyone referred to it as the smart class. being in the same class as hitoka yachi was interesting though, considering how paranoid she got around you. but you learnt to love her, with yachi becoming your first friend. 

it was 12:34, four minutes after lunch started. sitting at your usual seat where yachi meets up with you, you notice that she walks in with two prominent guys next to her. how could someone as sweet as her be friends with those two? one shorter than average, for sure, with bright orange hair, brown eyes, and the other, cursing him out, taller, with black hair and blue eyes. he was grumbling about his orange haired friend stealing his pork bun from him. 

you blink as yachi sits across from you, not really caring about the commotion. 

“i'm sorry… they begged me to help them study with the upcoming vocab quiz, so let them sit here with us, please!” she asks you in her sweet tone, a hint of shyness coming out. you just smile and nod as you unwrap your food.

“sure, I'm not stopping you.” you mumble back as you swallow some seltzer juice you’d picked up from the vending machine. she smiles widely, but stares in fear at the two boys fighting.

“you know them?” you ask sheepishly, not really seeing how those two would connect with yachi. 

“mhmmmm, i'm the volleyball manager and they're on the team.” she responds back. she looks at the two with some sort of pride, or proudness on her face. you tilt your head at the black haired boy. 

ah, that’s where you saw him. 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

you were groaning and sighing at the vending machine, not noticing that he was there. standing behind you.

“bleh.. these flavors suck. they don't even have lychee..” you mutter to yourself, hastily clicking on the white peach seltzer instead. you open the can, hearing rattling coming from behind you. you freeze as you notice the boy standing behind you.

“oh, god, i'm sorry, i took too long.” you apologize, slightly embarrassed at the fact that he heard you. 

“no, it's fine.” he responds back. you blink at this. was everyone here this quiet..? you sigh and you just smile awkwardly. 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

“what's your name?” you ask, shutting the two up as the shorter one munches on the pork bun. yachi turns to you as well, slightly surprised that you spoke up.

“me..? i'm kageyama, he’s hinata.” he mutters out as he punches hinata. you nod, not really sure what to do next. 

“they put new lychee seltzer in the machine, by the way.” he says, not noticing how much of a deal this meant to you. why'd he remember? he seemed forgetful, anyways. 

“wait, really?” you ask, not sure if he was genuine. He nods and he turns to you. 

“yes,” he says with a blank face. “weren't you complaining about it?” you nod and you smile. you didn't know how much that smile meant to him, because he’d always come up to you in the halls reminding you that there was a new restock of lychee seltzer. 

“they have more, you know.” he mutters to you as you both walk over to the water fountain. you smile at him, letting out a giggle. 

“kageyama, i think you told me this three times this week.” you giggle out. he stares at you with a stupid stare, but one you couldn’t hate.

“okay.. well i wasn't sure if you forgot.” he mumbles back. 

“why would i ever forget anything you tell me?” you ask, turning your head to him. closing your bottle, you blink at the look of awe he had on his face.

that moment, time stopped for tobio kageyama. that was the moment he realized someone liked listening to him, someone enjoying his presence. and that was the second tobio kageyama realized he liked you.

you found out you liked him later, when you jumped up from your couch as you watched him from your tv win against inarizaki. the joy from yourself surprised you, because you never really got excited over a boy winning his volleyball game. but it wasn’t just any boy. it was tobio kageyama.

[faithshouseofchaos]

I am here with a Danny Ric request!!!!

Here's what I think... Arranged marriage, McLaren! Driver!reader, she wins... He's on podium, but despite their marriage not being "real" She first celebrates with him.... Super fluffy and cutesy... Maybe a fight in the start like they had a fight but she still celebrates w him, yk? Also I need him on podium, make his glory days come back

“Let me prove it to you” — Daniel Ricciardo x reader

Word count 3k

Angst hurt comfort Smut

Warnings — allusions of smut at the end

@danielshouseofwhores

“Would you just drop it Daniel” you groaned, zipping up your race suit.

“No, we need to talk about this” Daniel says grabbing your arm to stop you from walking away.

He turned you to face him, his hand still on your arm. “We can’t just pretend this isn’t happening” he says, his voice strained.

You avoid his gaze and look down, suddenly finding the floor very interesting.

His hand moves to your chin slowly tilting it up to meet his gaze. “Please, look at me” he says softly. Your eyes slowly move up to meet his, your heart skipping a beat as his hand moves from your chin to your cheek. He runs his thumb over your cheek gently. “We need to talk about this” he repeats softly.

“There’s nothing to talk about” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart racing as you stare into his eyes.He can see through your facade, he knows what you’re trying to do and he knows you’re scared.

“Don’t shut me out” he says, his voice pleading. His eyes search for any sign of emotion from you but you keep your expression neutral. He sighs in frustration as he realizes he’s getting nowhere with you. He’s silent for a moment, his hand still on your cheek, his thumb still rubbing against your skin.

Then, he speaks up again. “Why can’t you just be honest with me?” he asks, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and hurt. You can feel the pain in his voice and it kills you. You wish you could tell him everything, you wish you could pour your heart out to him and tell him how much you really care about him.

But you can’t.

“Because it doesn’t matter” you reply, your voice cold and emotionless. His shoulders slump at your words. “Doesn’t matter?” he mutters, his voice tinged with disbelief. “How can you say that?” He pauses for a moment, struggling to find the words. “You think this doesn’t matter?” he repeats, gesturing between the two of you. “Yes Daniel that’s exactly what I think because this isn’t real” you replied.

His hand drops from your cheek and he takes a step back, hurt etched across his face.

“Not real?” he repeats slowly, his voice pained. “Is that really what you think this is?” The look of hurt on his face cuts through you like a knife but you push onward. “Yes, that’s exactly what it is” you answer coldly. “It’s fake, it always was.” Daniel’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw tightening. He looks at you for a moment, searching for any sign that you don’t really mean what you’re saying, but all he sees is a cold, emotionless expression on your face.

“So that’s it then?” he asks bitterly. “We’re just pretending, huh?”

“Yes because it’s not real it’s PR Daniel you know that.” You said.

He lets out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “PR, huh?” he repeats, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Is that all this is to you?” He steps closer to you again, his eyes locked on yours. “Do you have any idea how much that hurts? To hear you say that we’re just a PR stunt?”

His voice wavers, his usual confident demeanor faltering for a moment as he struggles to keep his emotions in check. “I thought we were more than that, I thought maybe...” he trails off, the unsaid words hanging heavily between you.

“I’m sorry but we have to go, the race will start soon and we can’t be late” you mumbled quietly, turning away from him.

He watches as you turn away from him, your words stinging.

He stands there for a moment, his hands clenched into fists, trying to reign in his emotions.

“Yeah, of course,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “Can’t be late to play the perfect couple, can we?” He gives you a bitter smile before walking away, the hurt and disappointment written all over his face.

You watch him go, your heart heavy with guilt and regret. You know you’re hurting him, but you tell yourself it’s for the best. It’s just PR, nothing more.

—-/—-

The race is finished. Daniel is on the top of the podium, champagne in hand as he sprays it around him.

You stand beside him, a smile plastered on your face as the cameras flash around you.

It’s the same routine after every race. You stand beside Daniel, the perfect couple, putting on a show for the cameras. You watch as Daniel grins widely, celebrating his win with the crowd. He looks so happy and relieved.

You can tell how much this win means to him. He’d been struggling with the new car all season and this is the first race he’s won.

For a moment, you forget about the tension between you two, lost in the joy of this moment. The podium celebration finishes and Daniel jumps down, surrounded by press immediately.

You hang back, watching as he poses for pictures and answered questions.

As the crowd thins, he makes his way over to you. His body language is less cheerful now, his shoulders slumped slightly. He gives you a small smile before speaking, his voice soft. “Good race” he says, his eyes studying your face. “Yeah, good race” you reply, forcing a smile.

A silence falls between the two of you, the weight of your earlier conversation lingering in the air. He looks down, his hand running through his hair. “Can we talk later?” he asks, his voice hopeful. “Afterwards, in my hotel room?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. The two of you walk side by side towards the press conference, your thoughts swirling in your head.

You know how happy this win makes Daniel, but you also know that you’re hurting him. It’s all so confusing. You settle into your seat at the press conference, sitting beside Daniel as the questions start rolling in.

Daniel talks animatedly about the race, his excitement and happiness clear in his voice. Everyone’s eyes are on him, hanging onto every word he says.

But your eyes are on him too, taking in his features, the way his eyes light up when he talks about the race, the way his hair falls in his face. He glances at you occasionally, trying to gauge your reactions to his answers. He’s looking for any sign of emotion from you, but all he sees is the same neutral expression on your face.

The press conference goes on for what feels like an eternity. Finally, it’s over and you and Daniel make your way back to the trailer, your bodies stiff with tension. The walk back is silent, the tension between you two so thick it’s almost palpable.

You both enter the trailer, closing the door behind you.

Daniel paces back and forth, his hands running through his hair. His mind is racing and he can’t sit still. He stops suddenly, turning to face you. “Why can’t you just talk to me?” he says, his voice low and strained. “Why can’t you just be honest with me?”

You can see the hurt and frustration in his eyes, the raw emotion behind his words.

You know you’ve been acting cold and indifferent towards him, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him the truth. It’s too messy and complicated.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself.

“Because I’m scared”

Daniel stops in his tracks, his frustration replaced by confusion. “Scared?” he repeats, tilting his head slightly. “Scared of what?”

You take a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain. “I’m scared of what will happen if I’m honest with you” you reply, your voice quieter than you intended.

He steps closer to you, his eyes searching your face. “I don’t understand, what are you scared of?” he asks, his voice softer now.

“My real feelings”

Daniel’s eyes widen slightly at your words, the implication of meaning behind them not lost on him. He takes another step closer, closing the distance between you. “What are your real feelings?” he asks quietly.

“I love you”

For a moment, time seems to stand still as your words hang in the air.

Daniel stares at you, his eyes wide and his breath caught in his throat. He had suspected you had feelings for him, but hearing those words come out of your mouth was different.

He closes the remaining distance between you, lifting his hand to touch your face gently. “Say it again” he murmurs. You look up at him, your eyes meeting his. “I love you” you repeat softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Daniel’s thumb brushes against your cheek, his eyes searching your face for any sign of deception. “You really mean that?” he asks, his voice low and strained.

You nod, your eyes locked with his. “Yes, I do” you reply, your voice trembling slightly. This confession is hard for you, opening yourself up to hurt and rejection.

Daniel’s hand moves from your face, trailing down to your waist. He pulls you closer, your bodies millimeters apart.

His other hand moves to your hip, both his hands gripping you tightly. His fingers dig into your skin, as if he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go.

His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you push me away then? Why did you act so cold and distant?”

You swallow hard, the guilt of your actions crashing down on you. “I was scared,” you reply quietly. “I was scared to let you in, scared to get hurt.”

Daniel lets out a deep breath, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. “You’ve been hurting me for months now” he whispers. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to see you act so cold towards me? To act like I meant nothing to you?”

You close your eyes at his words, the weight of your actions hitting you hard. “I’m sorry” you murmur, remorse seeping into your voice. “I was trying to protect myself, but I ended up hurting you instead.”

He pulls back slightly, his hand moving up to tilt your chin so you’re looking at him. “Don’t you know I would never hurt you?” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you trust me enough to tell me?”

Tears start to well up in your eyes as you look at him. “I don’t know, I was a mess” you reply, your voice wavering. “I didn’t think you would feel the same way. I thought you were just playing a role to please the press and keep our managers happy.”

Daniel shakes his head slightly, a sad smile on his face. “You really thought I didn’t care about you?” he asks quietly. “You thought I was just going along with this whole marriage thing without any feelings?”

He takes a deep breath before continuing. “I’ve been in love with you since the minute I met you. This whole marriage thing was just the icing on the cake for me, a chance to be with you in the open.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you absorb his words. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you let me push you away?” He lets out a bitter laugh, his thumb running across your cheek. “I tried” he replies. “But you were so determined to shut me out, to keep me at arm’s length. No matter what I did, you kept pushing me away.”

“I tried to show you how I felt” he continues, his voice getting louder as his frustration boils over. “I tried to win your heart, but you kept shutting me down. Every time I thought I was getting closer to you, you’d put up that damn wall again.”

“So please? Let me show you how much I love you” Daniel says begging.

You can see the vulnerability in his eyes, the desperation in his voice. You know how much he’s been hurting, how much your actions have affected him. You nod, a lump forming in your throat. “Okay” you whisper quietly, your voice barely above a breath. His eyes light up at your words, a mixture of relief and hope washing over his features. he lets out a shaky breath, his hands still gripping your hips tightly. “You mean it?” he asks, his voice hopeful.

You nod again, unable to find your voice. You watch as a small, tentative smile spreads across his face. He lifts a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle and reverent. He takes a step closer, his body pressing against yours. His fingers trail down your jawline, tracing a path down your neck. He leans in, his lips hovering just millimeters from yours.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. Your heart stutters in your chest as you look up at him, your eyes meeting him. “Yes” you whisper back, your voice barely audible.

He doesn’t hesitate, his lips crashing down on yours hungrily. His hand moves to the back of your head, holding you in place as he kisses you deeply.

His other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The kiss is hungry and possessive, years worth of pent up emotions finally unleashed. His tongue slides into your mouth, mapping out every inch of you. You grip his shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin as you kiss him back, your own desire and need matching his.

He backs you up against the wall, pinning you between it and his body. He kisses down your jawline, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of fire behind. Your head falls back as his lips reach a sensitive spot on your neck, a soft moan escaping your mouth.

He grins against your skin, his lips still pressed against your neck. “I’ve wanted to kiss you like this for so long” he mutters, his voice husky and strained.

His hands roam over your body, his touch igniting every nerve ending in your skin. He runs his fingers up your sides, his touch feather light but possessive.

His lips find their way back to yours, his kisses becoming more urgent. He lifts you up, his hands gripping your thighs as he pins you back against the wall. your legs wrap around his waist, your bodies pressed together tight. He groans as he feels your legs wrap around him, his hips pressing against yours. “God, you have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to do this” he breathes out, his mouth against your ear.

His lips find a sensitive spot on your neck and he sucks on it lightly, his teeth grazing against your skin. your grip tightens on his shoulders as you arch your back, a gasp escaping your mouth. He continues to kiss and nibble at your neck, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of marks on your skin. You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging on it slightly as you try to pull him impossibly closer.

He lets out a low moan as you tug on his hair, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. He turns his attention to your collarbone, his lips and tongue working their way down your skin.

“Daniel,” you said breathlessly.

He lifts his head from your collarbone, his eyes meeting yours. “Yeah?” he replies, his voice equally breathless.

“I need you” you whisper, your voice trembling with need.

He looks at you, his eyes dark with desire. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to hear you say that” he replies, his hands tightening their grip on your thighs.

He pulls you away from the wall, his lips finding yours again as he walks you towards the bed. His hands move under your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as he lays you down on the bed. He follows you down, his body covering yours as he settles between your legs. He kisses you hungrily, his lips devouring yours as his hands roam your body.

Your hands clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer as you arch your back involuntarily. He breaks the kiss, his lips moving down to your neck again as he pushes your shirt up, his hands exploring the newly exposed skin. He trails kisses down your chest, his lips and tongue mapping out every inch of your skin. His fingers slip under the waistband of your pants, his touch sending electricity coursing through your veins.

His lips find their way back to your neck, his teeth sinking into a sensitive spot as his hands push your pants down. you arch your back again, a low moan escaping your mouth as his body presses against yours. He nibbles at your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin. “Tell me you’re mine” he whispers, his voice strained with desire. “I need to hear you say it.” “I’m yours” you gasp out, your voice trembling with need. His breath catches in his throat as you say those words, a low noise of pleasure escaping his mouth.

“Say it again” he demands, his eyes meeting yours. “I want to hear you say it again.”

Your heart stutters in your chest as you look at him. “I’m yours, Daniel” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. He lets out a low growl, his body pressing against yours tighter. “God, you have no idea what hearing you say that does to me” he murmurs, his lips finding yours again in a hungry kiss.

[sorrel-leaf-vespers]

Hello, Dreams of an Insomniac Tumblr. I felt the urge to write DoaI fic and the Sitcom AU is my opportunity. Two things that I’m unsure on because I’m VERY new to the DoaI Tumblr community:

- I don’t know everyone’s pronouns for sure. I know Alex has been confirmed they/them, I’ve predominantly heard it/its for Clyde, and for Winfrey I’ve heard both they/them and he/him, but went with just they/them to be safe.

- I don’t know the full details yet of Clyde and Winfrey’s dynamic, so that’s why I kept it a bit more ambiguous.

If there's anything I got wrong or any details you want me to know please let me know because I'd like to try to engage with this community because y'all seem like great people

Anyway enjoy this short story

Alex opened the door slowly, making sure that their new roommate wasn’t in view. It wasn’t. They quickly ducked inside and locked the door, then leaned against the wall and heaved a sigh. They were still exhausted from the events of a few nights ago, when they had found Room 66. They still needed to record that tape, and finish that plan to break the woman they had interviewed out. They still didn’t understand. Why weren’t they in trouble? Surely they would face some consequences for their actions. Surely they weren’t going to get away with what they’d done.

They raised their head slightly as they finally registered some noise in the living room. They walked in to see Clyde lying on the couch, watching something on the television. They sighed. At least it was safe. “Hey, Clyde,” they said as they walked in.

Clyde lifted its head and wagged its tail a bit as Alex sat down next to it. “Hello.”

“Did you just wake up?”

“Not just.”

“What are you watching?”

“I don’t know. I just turned it on and let it play. I like the noise.”

Alex quickly checked the curtains. Closed. Good. Clyde’s secrecy and safety was the most important thing. “If you don’t mind, can we turn it off? I need some quiet.”

“Oh. Okay.” Clyde slinked toward the TV and turned it off, then resumed its lounging position on the couch. It noticed Alex’s tired expression. “Are you okay?” it asked.

“I just need a bit.” Alex closed their eyes for a second, trying to get the image of that giant Veldigun in Room 66 out of their head. “Sorry. I’m just… still worn out from the other night.”

“Want to talk about it?” Clyde tilted its head slightly. “What did you see?”

Alex was silent for a minute. They’d done their best to not think about it or talk about it too much until they were able to fully process it. Finally, they nodded. “I’ll show you the tapes in a bit, if you want, but as for what I saw… ugh.”

Clyde shuffled around, going from a relaxed, lounging posture to an attentive and serious one. There was clear concern on its face. “There were bad things in there. Right?”

“Yeah. Lankmann himself, and of course the Veldigun he’s keeping there…”

That got Clyde’s interest. It leaned forward. “Veldigun? Like me?”

“Your kind, yeah.”

“Who?”

Alex pursed their lips. “I didn’t get a name. They were really tall, probably around 12 or 13 feet standing up… muscular, bulky… They had two really thick horns on the side of their head, as well. Really curly ones.”

“Blue?”

Alex paused a bit. How did it guess... “Yeah. They were blue.”

Clyde sat back, pulled its knees into its torso, and wrapped its tail around itself. Alex heard it make a sound it never had before. It whined. The noise was almost like a dog whimpering. “Are you okay?” said Alex, scooting a bit closer.

Clyde was silent for another few moments before it finally spoke. “Winfrey…”

It was Alex’s turn to sit back and pull their knees up to their chest. Clyde had never said that name before. “Winfrey?” Alex repeated. “Is that their name?”

“Yes,” said Clyde.

“You know them?”

“Yes.”

“Are they a friend of yours?”

Clyde kept silent.

“A partner?”

Clyde didn’t answer.

“Family?”

Clyde closed its eyes. “That Foundation… has Winfrey?”

“They appear to.”

“Can we save them?”

Alex stared long and hard at Clyde. They had never seen the Veldigun look so… vulnerable. So afraid. Winfrey was obviously very important to it. It clearly didn’t want to see them hurt.

“Give me some time to think up a plan. I need to break someone else out of there first. Then we can try to get Winfrey out. Ok?”

Clyde was silent for a long time, then nodded. “Ok…”

Alex nodded and stood up. “I’m going to go take a shower, and then we can talk more. That ok?”

Clyde gave them a short nod, remaining in their curled-up position. Alex walked quickly to the bathroom. They felt horrible now, knowing that Winfrey was Clyde’s… friend? Family member? Partner? They didn’t know. All that mattered was getting the woman who had helped them out of the asylum, and maybe, if they could, letting Winfrey know that Clyde was safe…

[sparrowsoupp]

some of the most iconic queer poster children of the warrior cats fandom. happy pride to the girls gays and theys (particularly those who enjoy brawling feline content)

dabble in my headcannons for these pairings under the read-more button if i’ve piqued your interest…

RAVEN x BARLEY (gay x gay)

i know there’s been a bit of controversy going around about these two and how they could be seen as toxic, with barley being insecure over ravenpaw’s connection to thunderclan. i get that perspective for sure, but i think it’s representative of REASONABLE flaws in a real relationship. obviously it’s not ideal that they never completely resolve it (since it’s ‘solved’ in the graphic novel but reopened in ravenpaw’s novella) and i wished that they addressed that more concretely (i say about a fucking middle grade book about talking cats LOL) but even more so i think you could see it as a realistic relationship as with issues in those, they often subdue and reoccur at intervals. it’s just about talking it out with your partner 🦭👍 plus if the majority of their relationship outside of this is good (which i definitely see it as, since obviously the books have to take place at points of conflict for there to be interesting things to write about) then it seems to be a somewhat small flaw.

that being said i haven’t actually read the books this comes up in so take my opinion with grains of salt, just online discourse about it. totally get if your life experience makes you see their interactions another way as this is just my two cents based on my experience with people.

overall i’m not a superfan of the sickly-sweet reputation these two get but i do like them for what i see them as, which is a Normal Relationship with Some Flaws. i like that they find solace in each other in a peaceful place after fleeing their less peaceful pasts. it’s a great dynamic (and i’m a sucker for farms) and i think they compliment each other’s personalities really well, with barley bringing ravenpaw out of the shell he’s been forced into and ravenpaw inspiring more cautiousness in a very brash barley who would otherwise probably jump into fights at the drop of a hat.

on a somewhat unrelated note, as a kid did anyone else wish that ravenpaw dropped his paw suffix? or blue/firestar granted him an honourary suffix for everything the poor kid went through? this isn’t like a super big meanigful thing but it just annoyed me when i was younger that the paw suffix kind of belittles him to apprentice level when after the fuckery the poor kid went through i think he deserves more recognition from the clans than that.

BLUESTAR x YELLOWFANG (bi x bi)

OKAYYY old women! while fanart of the two of them being in a loving happy relationship is very cute i like to take my old woman yuri one-sided and traumatic.

i think that yellowfang would have an unrequited crush on bluestar. what’s there not to like?! at the point when they meet bluestar is a compassionate but commanding cat in the prime of her leadership. after a bit of her being in the camp i think bluestar would also start spending a curious amount of time in the medicine den… unconciously she definitely saw the appeal in yellowfang from the getgo- it definitely strengthens the reasoning of her surprising decision to defend yellowfang as a member of thunderclan depsite risking a full on war with other clans from it, and her other clanmates lives in the process. obviously bluestar’s a leader that wouldn’t base a decision like that just based on a crush, and it was definitely because of what she wants her clan to stand for, but it’s Not a downside that the cute lady she used to see at gatherings gets to stay a while

bluestar’s definitely not letting it occupy her mind though, of course, totally not (the lady has Trauma from her relationship with oakheart and i see her as having an attatchment issue where she doesn’t feel like she deserves to have a healthy relationship, especially after losing mosskit. she’s just not fully ready yet). yellowfang pines as she watches bluestar throw herself fully into her work to distract herself from the growing feelings, and at some point probably grows annoyed with the cat-and-mouse and starts dedicating herself fully to her own work as a medicine cat too. there are moments of sweetness and clarity and words on the tips of tongues, but just as unexpectedly as they come bluestar will turn her head back to her duties.

unfortunately once tigerstar’s betrayal happens all cute flirting comes to a screeching halt as bluestar is consumed by the paranoia. on the good days she’ll hold stilted conversation with her clanmates, but not so much on the bad days. yellowfang hurts as she watches her crush sprial into madness and dysfunction, the likes of which is only heightened when the fire happens and yellowfang passes- completely insetting bluestar’s hatred for starclan for taking her love (who she still does have deeply-buried feelings for) away from her.

overall, can you tell i love inflicting mental anguish on bluestar? it’s my favourite hobby. i’m not even joking.

LEAFPOOL x MOTHWING (bi x lesbian)

okay this one might make you realise i love doomed yuri. Anyways,

put simply, i think leafpool and mothwing find each other attractive and secretly hook up on a frequent basis for some…. Funny Business. Hanky-Panky, if you will. ‘no-strings-attached’ yeah right i don’t think sapphics have ever pulled off a no strings attatched relationship without casualities.

mothwing definitely wants to confess but leafpool by that point has been forcing herself to move on and ends up telling mothwing about ‘liking’ crowfeather right before mothwing works up the courage (reading leafpool x crowfeather for the first time in the canon books geniunely felt like someone’s ao3 crackship. i guess that’s what traumabinding will do to two mfs). or maybe mothwing notices that leafpool is pregnant (which HOW THE HELL DID NOONE NOTICE IN CANON) and backs the hell off from that. maybe a very angsty argument over that… delicious.

how very ‘good luck babe’ by chappell roan of them! i think things end pretty awkwardly for mothpool and neither leafpool nor crowfeather are really in love with each other they’re just something shiny and distracting from each of their respective circuses of personal lives. i literally hear the clown music playing as they run away together. maybe it’s tinnitus.

they probably pine for each other forever and ever after that, neither falling in love again because they never get over each other. damn. how awkward is it to see your kind-of-ex at the moonpool every month…

anyway thanks for reading though beau’s cat rambles! if youve stuck it out to here… a tip of the hat to you

[eepwriting]

Hi. Can you write something about how IV skillfully seduces one of his colleagues on stage (by touching himself)? He is interested in seeing the reaction, he loves to tease. How do you like my thought?

Watch Yourself ✶ III x IV

Warnings: some nsfw thoughts

I like your thought very much anon!! Thank you for this ask 🤍 I commonly tag iii and iv as the lovers because…they’re in love duh

!! mdi !!

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✶ It was no secret that iv craved attention from his fellow vessels.

✶ Always jumping at the opportunity to kiss and snuggle up to them.

✶ But iii…iii was his treasured.

✶ The taller man always happily reciprocated iv’s advances.

✶ IV often found himself wanting things to escalate further but he couldn’t bring himself to make it know to III.

✶ Until today.

✶ He couldn’t get III out of his mind. It didn’t help that they lived in such close quarters either.

✶ He was surprised III wasn’t annoyed with his constant teasing and sly remarks. He’d practically been all over the man for most of the day.

✶ When it came time for the show, IV felt a surge of excitement. He could really tease and prod at III and the crowd would love it. Eat it up even.

✶ If III had anything to say about it, IV could simply excuse his actions.

✶ “I’m appeasing the crowd, III.”

✶ So now here he was, using every opportunity between actually doing his job to get III riled up.

✶ The two had spent practically the whole first half of the show next to each other.

✶ IV could tell III was surprised, maybe even a bit confused with how many kisses IV demanded from him. He could only laugh under his mask each time he looked at IV, watching him tap a finger over his lips before beckoning him over.

✶ IV wanted more than just some friendly kisses though.

✶ He gets III’s attention once again and wraps his fingers around his own throat, pointing at the taller man. His hand slowly leaves his neck to train down his chest.

✶ III shakes his head playfully, striding over. He grabs up IV’s hand, dragging it back up to his neck, wrapping IV’s hand and his own around his throat. He thinks he sees IV’s eyes unfocus when he squeezes but it’s hard to tell.

✶ “Watch yourself, Ivy boy.”

✶ IV winks back at his warning, wishing he could see the potential smirk on the face of the man in front of him.

✶ They’re forced to pull away when it’s time to get back to work but follow each other on the stage, never standing far from each other.

✶ IVs’ back on him the second he has a moment, pushing III around with a hand on his chest, trailing it up to rest on his throat. IV’s own hand dancing on his stomach, slipping down to his thigh, dangerously close to the half bulge between his legs.

✶ He’s lucky his back is to the crowd, hidden in the dark, the only spotlight shining on Vessel.

✶ He takes note of III’s eyes following the movement of his hands. Lingering glances on his thighs and cock.

✶ III reaches out to touch him, a hand on his side pulling him closer, a hard thunk of a kiss landed. He really wished they didn’t have these stupid masks on.

✶ IV’s eyes are mischievous as he pulls away quickly, making his way back to his corner of the stage like nothing ever happened.

✶ It’s hard for III to think for the rest of the show. He’s lucky it’s second nature for him at this point. He’s not sure how he’s able to finish the show without pouncing on IV.

✶ Both men are quick to exit the stage after the last song, III moving with quick strides to reach IV.

✶ “What the hell was that about?”

✶ “I was just teasing III, you know how it is. You better watch yourself. I can make this so much worse for you.”

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GUYS WHAT IS THIS

I feel like this sucks but whatever 😔 your ask was chefs kiss anon thank you, I hope it’s somewhat okay.

K. Bye bye.

[wild0moon]

eating up ur captain design............ /pos

can i ask how pico and captain met in your au (i think its an au anyway)?

very canon adjacent, but it's an au, yeah. my friend and i's funky little universe just to the left of canon where we take things too seriously, you feel me

short version: they happened to meet at a cop shop while pico was waiting for (yet another) police interrogation, weeks to a month after the events of pico's school. john took an interest in pico and offered, mostly as a joke, to teach pico how to handle a gun properly. what was supposed to be a one-off lesson for a quick bit of entertainment turned into regular practice sessions and accidental (but immediate) emotional attachment from both parties. whoops!

and if you'll indulge me, here's the long version, because it's been brewing in my brain recently and i guess my hand slipped

(WARNING: descriptions of and vague flashbacks to the events of pico's school)

💚💚💚💚💚

The police station was usually quiet at this time of day. Idle tapping of fingers against a keyboard, muffled sounds of cars passing outside or of people talking in another room, none obtrusive enough to disturb the thoughts swirling in his head.

Now though, he was entirely preoccupied by annoyance.

Shut up. Why are you so loud? If you don't like pigs, why did you even come in here?

Pico had seen the strange man in black from the corner of his eye, swaggering in like he owned the place, only to start chatting to the receptionist with all the warm familiarity of two former classmates who never really liked each other very much. Derisive whispers in Pico's head grew louder in concert with his rising stress, adding to the noise, birthing a cacophony he couldn't escape from.

The man went quiet, and for a brief moment, Pico was sure he felt eyes on him. His own gaze stayed firmly on his sneakers.

The receptionist finally piped up with something other than a disinterested hum. "That's, uh, that Pico kid. Pico Fulp?"

"Ohh, so you're the kid who shot up his school."

Pico's head snapped up.

In an instant, his vision was dyed red, blood running so hot it threatened to burn him up from the inside. He didn't know when he got to his feet, but he was already taking steps toward the man.

"It wasn't me!" he snarled, words bubbling up and bursting out before he could stop them. "It wasn't! Watch your fucking mouth or I'll break your jaw, you stupid—"

"I got it, kid, calm down," the man talked him down, in a far more stern tone than Pico had been ready for, stopping him in his tracks. Matter-of-factly, he added: "I don't care how tough you are, you've got another thing coming if you think you can break any bone in my body."

Pico grit his teeth, fists clenched at his sides.

The white-hot fire of rage burnt out almost as quickly as it ignited, his little body only growing colder as he actually looked at the man standing before him, red giving way to black and white.

Tall and broad-shouldered, wearing sunglasses so dark it was almost impossible to see the inscrutable eyes behind them. He was uniformed — the army, not the police. Which rank was the three stripes for? Was the 'Captain' on the tag his rank, or his name?

Pico dared to speak up again. "It wasn't me," he repeated, far softer than before.

Captain turned bodily to face him. "I heard you the first time. So, what did you actually do?"

He looked away again, wringing his freshly scarred hands. "I... I stopped it, sir. I killed the shooters."

The slight movement of Captain's eyebrows snared the corner of Pico's vision. "Really now?"

"I... I found a big gun in the janitor's closet, they must've stashed it in there," the words spilled forth, as if he were back in that vile interrogation room already. "So I took it, and I shot them. All of them. There were four, a-and I didn't even know what I was doing, I was scared out of my mind, I'd never held a gun before in my life, I don't know how I—"

"You've never used a gun, but you still managed to take down four armed threats all by yourself?" There was a note of interest in Captain's voice, despite him crossing his arms.

Pico swallowed thickly.

"Please leave me alone!"

"I was told to just scare you! I wasn't gonna kill you!"

"...Two of them weren't moving, sir. I'd disarmed them, and they were afraid..."

Captain hummed. "Right. And the other two?"

No answer. Memories of callous men in blue giving him withering looks or laughing in his face when he told the truth kept his jaw clamped shut.

Captain lifted his head, looking around the otherwise empty room. "Where are your parents?"

A half-hearted shrug. "They don't want anything to do with me right now, sir."

They never did in the first place.

The soldier's thick eyebrows furrowed, but for the life of him, Pico wasn't sure what it meant. The man was as easy to read as a book with all its pages glued together. That, or he was just illiterate.

"I probably only lived because we were all just kids who barely knew what we were doing," Pico found himself saying, as if he hadn't also slaughtered a giant alien that day — Cassandra had been young and inexperienced in her own way, too. "If something like that happened again, I… I dunno."

Captain said nothing, just staring down at him, seeming thoughtful.

Silence fell over the room for a long moment, disturbed faintly by the nasty voices Pico had learned only he could hear. When the man's voice broke through the murmurs again, it hardly sounded any kinder.

"Look, if I were you, I'd stop pissing myself and go get some actual experience under my belt."

"But—"

He wasn't done. "You know where the gun range is, right? The one five minutes north of here? Meet me there at thirteen-hundred tomorrow. Even a minute late and the offer expires, got it?"

…What?

Pico lifted his gaze to meet Captain's, incredulous. "You mean... But, why would you help me?"

It was Captain's turn to offer a lazy shrug. "I'm bored outta my skull, and this is the most entertainment I've gotten in months."

He said that, but he didn't look very amused. Besides, a soldier like him surely didn't have time to waste on such petty entertainment as watching a child grappling with fear. Pico tried scrutinizing the man's face for a moment longer, unsure what he was even searching for, but quickly found himself at a loss.

The easy answer was that it was a genuine offer to help, to teach him how to properly handle a firearm and put that aspect of his trepidation to rest. Pico wasn't sure if he believed that, but for some reason, he really hoped it was true. That would mean that Captain saw something in him, something more than the unfortunate kid and murderer that the other adults saw, something worth taking a chance on.

Nice. This man, a total stranger, was being nice.

When was the last time anyone said something nice to him?

(Weeks ago, in a sterile hospital room, two hands gently clasping one of his own, their owner smiling in spite of the anxiety behind those pretty black eyes, the sweetest voice Pico had ever heard telling him over and over how everything was going to be okay—)

Pico shook his head, as if he could physically clear the memory away.

He's gone now. Stop thinking about him.

By the time Pico dragged himself back to the present, Captain was already on the way out, muttering something about the stench of hogs. Pico watched him walk away, until he disappeared from view.

"Prick," the receptionist muttered, returning their attention to their computer.

With little else to do, Pico returned to his seat. His own thoughts quickly took center stage as usual, but they were different now, looking tentatively to the future, rather than the bloody memories that tugged insistently at his back.

It had been a while since he had something to look forward to.

[yosomats]

yoshida and karamatsu being quite literally self made men, putting their all into their image, even if kara's work ethic is practically nonexistant compared to yoshida's (or simply unapplied since he's a neet lol), is super interesting! karamatsu must see yoshida and feel a great admiration and slight envy towards him, and yoshida might wonder how someone like kara is even alive, let alone happy with who he is, but also maybe, on some more subconscious level, jealous that he's satisfied with so little, in yo's opinion... much to think about🧐

IM GONNA KILL MYSELF YOU GET IT WAHHHHHHH😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭���😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I really love whatever this type or writing or characterization is called (idk man I just draw pictures) I love complicated relationships

I went a little overboard um enjoy yoshikara relationship breakdown

Karamatsu idolizes yoshida and views him as the perfect guy and wants to become him. He kind of stalks him to try and gauge what he does so he can take that and apply it to himself without knowing the amount of effort yoshida put into himself to be who he is today. karamatsu wants a cheat code lol. At some point he actually makes contact with him and tries to befriend him (for his own selfish motives of course hes still a selfish pos like his brothers lol).

Yoshida on the other hand couldn't give two flying shits about karamatsu after he finds out hes a neet. He's not a hateful person but he cannot stand people who don't put any effort into being better (for reasons stated in the last ask). If it were anyone else yoshida would be happy to keep them company and get to know them but because karamatsu has accomplished nothing in his life yoshida is quick to turn cold towards him: ignoring him like everyone else.

Their whole story is still a wip but after a while something happens and yoshida grows softer to karamatsu and they officially become acquaintances instead of harasser and victim lol. Karamatsu's feelings of admiration and envy transform into this all encompassing infatuation. He can't tell if he wants to be him or be with him lol (he wants him carnally) Yoshida can tell but doesn't really say anything or let it ruin the quiet relationship they have going on. He does care about him but in a more pitiful understanding way. Unrequited love is awesome and I think it should be explored more cuz feelings and emotions are complicated and interesting.

Their acquaintanceship is quiet. Whether it be a late night smoke on the bridge or getting a quick meal at chibita's, their relationship is a mix of awkward and distant but peaceful. Karamatsu is just happy he has someone to spend some of his time with. Yoshida's life wouldn't be affected if karamatsu was in or out of it so he doesn't really care. Its a very once sided relationship emotionally

wow consider this the kind of official yoshikara post

[rohirric-hunter]

I can't believe Pippin won that 'who would fall to the Ring first if the Fellowship stayed together' poll. Everybody's debating if hobbits are actually more resistant (they literally canonically are) or if Pippin specifically is an exception to hobbits being more resistant (why on earth would he be?) and no one's addressing the obvious question which is Why the fuck would the Ring be TRYING to corrupt Pippin?

The Ring's corruption isn't, like, a proximity-based status debuff. I mean, it is that, but that's just a side effect. It's very clearly shown to affect its bearer more strongly than anyone around them, even helpers, friends, and other members of the same party, as shown when Sam takes it from Frodo in Cirith Ungol and immediately feels its weight, as well as later when he picks Frodo up and doesn't. Additionally, the passages in The Two Towers and The Return of the King that are told from Sam's perspective show clearly that he is only minimally influenced by the proximity of the Ring except when he is carrying it. The Ring has a conscious will that it employs when it sets out to tempt someone, and it has a clear track record of only employing this will against hobbits when they are the ones carrying it. Most likely due to their very real, very canonical resistance to that sort of corrupting magic, which the Ring would be well-acquainted with, having been owned by Gollum for like 500 years and getting nothing more interesting than a handful of murders out of him.

Anyway, the point is that while Pippin might have been negatively affected by the mere proximity of the Ring, he's pretty resistant to that kind of influence on account of being a hobbit, much more resistant than most of the other members of the Fellowship. Of course the Ring presented a very normal temptation that anyone with a desire for power might be swayed by, but Pippin doesn't desire power. Contrast that with Gandalf, another character who straight-up admits to being tempted by the Ring, in a general sense and not really in the sense that the Ring was actively working on him. I love Gandalf, but he really can't go more than a couple of pages without reminding people that he's a messenger of the Valar and very powerful in some sort of veiled fashion or other. He tells it to Frodo, he tells it to Bilbo, he tells it to Denethor and Theoden and anyone else who will listen, and a good number of people who don't. Power is very much a part of Gandalf's identity and his thoughts are on it often. Meanwhile, when pressed for a fun fact about his father to share with a new friend, Pippin does not even mention that he's literally the most powerful person in the Shire (and indeed perhaps in all of the North Kingdom, since nobody else there has the same sort of stand-in for the King position). No, Pippin talks about farming. And this scene is told from Pippin's perspective, so we, the readers, can see that Pippin didn't even think about it. He mentions that his father is a farmer, and then he moves on.

No, Pippin wouldn't succumb to the Ring. Partially on account of his own virtue, but mostly because the Ring wouldn't try. It tried with Boromir because he had easily exploited fears. And Boromir succumbed because it was working at him in a concerted, targeted assault for months. It would have taken months more before it got another member of the Fellowship to turn on Frodo... and nobody wants to hear it, but that member would have been Aragorn.

[milogreer]

sneak peeks for shaw pack scaredy cats, a fic about the shaw pack as teenagers where the focus is (supposed to be) milo and tank torturing themselves and each other with horror movies :) takes place around 2009 when they're about 16/in 11th grade

Milo and Tank are hardly three feet out the door when Asher barrels out after them, squeezing his way between two freshmen and nearly taking one of them out with his backpack as he goes. He offers them an embarrassed apology, brightening up when he whirls back around to his pack members.

“I’m glad I caught you guys. Guess what?”

“What?” they ask in unison. Tank sounds far less interested than Milo, not that it’s a high bar - it’s surprising that they even answered Asher at all.

“I talked David into going to see Saw VI with me next weekend.”

“What?” Just Milo this time, incredulous. “That gore-fest? How the hell’d you manage that?”

“Hey, the Saw franchise is more than blood and guts! It’s psychological horror, and the plot is, you know, it’s intricate-”

Tank, who’s turned a little green at this point, says bluntly, “It’s gross.”

And Asher can’t really argue with that. Especially considering the gore is mostly why he watches them, contrasting David’s preference for plot-driven movies.

“So, I can assume you don’t wanna go with us to see it?”

“No way,” Tank says firmly, nose scrunching up in disgust, at the same time Milo scoffs, “In your dreams!”

Asher lets out a rather pitiful whine, his shoulders dropping and head lolling to the side. “Come on, you guys never wanna go to the movies. You’re so boring.���

The door opens to reveal Gabriel, and Tank can feel the phantom way their wolf ears flatten against their head. They blink up at him with wide, surprised eyes before quickly looking away, clearing their throat nervously.

“Afternoon, Mr. Shaw.”

To be the Alpha, Gabe really isn’t an intimidating man. Tall, broad, and grizzled, sure - but he’s also standing before them in a faded old apron and holding a sauce-covered pasta fork. So, not exactly the scariest guy around, but Tank’s only been part of the pack for two years. Despite making friends with a handful of the other kids, some of the adults still watch them warily. It makes Tank nervous. The entire pack shuts their mouths whenever Gabe speaks; with authority like that, one wrong move could send them and their parents back to Washington.

“Hey, kiddo. What brings you by?”

“I, uh-,” They shift their weight from one foot to the other. "I told David I was coming over to get a movie. I figured he told you.” They falter for a second before awkwardly adding, “Sorry,” almost as a question rather than a statement.

Gabe waves his pasta fork dismissively. “No problem. He’s got this project he’s been working on for school, he’s been locked up all afternoon.” He steps backwards into the house, opening up the doorway, and gestures for them to come in. “You know the way.”

Tank hums affirmatively, head down as they skirt past Gabe into the house, only remembering their manners after they’ve made it halfway down the hall.

“Thank you.”

“Good luck,” Gabe calls jokingly after them as he disappears into the kitchen.

“Do you wanna stay for dinner, Tank?”

No fuckin’ way. They open their mouth to decline as politely as possible, but David cuts in before they can.

“Yeah.” He pins them with a look that effectively quiets any argument they would’ve tried to make. They think he’s a lot like Gabriel that way, sharing that authoritative spirit that demands to be listened to. “We’ve still gotta pick a movie, but we can do it after, right?”

Keeping their expression neutral, they say, “Sure, we can do that.” They chance a look at Gabe, that same out-of-character deference shining through. “If that’s okay?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.” He has a warm smile, entirely different from what Tank’s used to at home. It somehow serves to both put them at ease and make them uncomfortable. “The more the merrier. It’ll be another five minutes max.”

“Cool. Thanks, Dad.”

The second the door closes, Tank picks up the nearest object - a baseball - and chucks it at David, who catches it with ease. “You suck.”

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I can basically hear your stomach growling.” He tosses the baseball back at them. “And this way, you don’t have a choice but to spend time with Gabe the dad instead of Gabe the Alpha.”

“You’re crazy. If anything, Tank likes you the least."

“Aw, c’mon, we’re best buds!” Asher slings an arm around Tank, dragging them in close. “Isn’t that right, T?”

If looks could kill, the side-eye/scowl combination Tank hits Asher with would’ve dropped him like a sack of potatoes. They tamp down the urge to shove him off of them; they’ve been trying to get better about putting hands on people.

“Get. Off.”

Asher complies without complaint, his hands in the air and the most shit-eating grin on his face even as Tank bares their teeth at him.

“See?” He winks at Milo. “Besties.”

“Whatever. All I'm saying is, I don’t care if you’re dying - If I catch you sniffin’ around my house this weekend during this movie you won’t have to worry about Dee’s test because I’ll beat your ass into next week.”

Asher perks up, eyes sparkling. “Ooh-”

“That is not a promise, you freak,” Milo cuts in with a finger pointed threateningly at Asher. “Don’t you got a class to go to?”

[absolutebl]

The Currently Airing Shows Ask Game looks really interesting and I can't resist asking you the following:

4. What is your favorite day for shows to air on? 5. What show do you think is doing the best job at utilizing tropes? 6. What trope is crossing over multiple airing shows that surprises you?

Especially keen to hear your take on 5 and 6! 😍

‌

Aw, yeah thank you!

I just answered #5. I chose We Are and explain my reasoning here. So the other two, fun fun!

4. What is your favorite day for shows to air on?

OMG! Mid week. Please BL gods.

For me a "normal work week" is usually Monday evening through Thursdays at home and then travelling on the weekends. When I travel it's usually for work, which means I only have my work laptop and mobile devices with me, and am moving through different time zones, IPs, and occasionally overseas. So for me it's the opposite of most: on the weekends I have the least leisure time and its hell trying to get access to everything (grey is right out).

Thus I love a shows that air on Mondays (that never happens), Tuesdays (sometimes) and Wednesdays (thank you Japan and Taiwan). Also these break up the monotony of my week.

6. What trope is crossing over multiple airing shows that surprises you?

That's a doozie. I hadn't picked up on any major trend right now across all players.

I will say the shows I'm enjoying the most are the ones that are upending and messing with tropes like Wandee Goodday and My Stand-In. Usually I prefer the fluffy standard fair, but right now the world is a bit askew.

Frankly, I shouldn't be liking My Stand-In at all, but I'm loving it.

Other trends?

It's not really a trope, more a theme or a collective archetype, but I've been noticing that supportive friendship groups, always popular in BL, seem to be getting better development and attention than they have in the past. Almost as if they're being given as much emotional weight (by the narrative) as the central romance. I like that a lot.

I also like how many adult leads and sides we are getting, even from Thailand. By which I mean, BL outside of a school setting. We still have high school and university set stuff, but that used to be ALL we got. I don't mind school settings, but I like that we have some kind of balance going on these days.

Oh yeah. And Japan.

Japan came to play and will not leave the field that they built.

I mean it's crazy how many JBLs we are getting this year. (And last.) Consistently, one after another, even a couple airing at once. At one point there was like 4 airing!

I may not always like JBL, but when I love it, I REALLY LOVE IT, and when it hits it hit hard (pain or joy). And even when I don't like it, it always gives me a lot to think about.

[littencloud9]

//

[sysig]

Yandere x Yandere is an underused trope imho (Patreon)

[januaryembrs]

WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Description: Sunshine rookie gets a boyfriend, and Spencer can’t help but think he would be so much better for her. But that definitely isn’t the jealousy talking, right?

Length: 8k

Warnings: nothing really, jealousy? talks of sex? embarrassment? Mention briefly of vomit because of allergic reaction.

main masterlist.

author’s note: I want to write for these two until my fingers are two little stubs and even then I’ll learn with my toes. Can be read as a stand alone!

He thought he was going to be sick when he saw her that random Thursday, leaning against her desk, a sweet, bashful smile on her face. Or, more specifically, Spencer thought he was going to need to at least sit down when he saw the man standing next to her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the little daisy earrings Penelope bought her for her birthday almost laughing at his gobsmacked expression. 

He liked Agent Taylor Bingley. He respected the fresh faced desk jockey from the third floor that swanned around their bullpen, usually discussing warm up routines with Luke. He was quick on his feet, a pretty decent shot. Never missed a report, never tardy, even offered his parking spot up to Spencer on more than one occasion because he didn’t mind the long walk from the other lot. He flew under the radar, and when he was noticed, it was because he was a particularly kind soul. 

Spencer didn’t think he’d ever seen him without those rosy cheeks that made him look almost always sunburnt, or that trademark boyish grin a handsome guy like him had down to a tea. So it really shouldn’t have been such a surprise to see him lingering around his sunshine girl. 

Except she wasn’t his, not by a mile. They just spent almost every second of the work day together.

“Check it out, rookie has an admirer,” Tara said, the heels clicking against the floor as she passed the door, where Spencer seemed to have stopped, his eyes narrowing at the happy couple, “Can’t say I blame him. She’s a pretty girl, don’t you think, Spence?”

She didn’t realise she was rubbing salt in a superficial wound, but Spencer felt his jaw feather with annoyance. Because she was beyond a pretty girl, she was honey and all the months of Spring and a hot drink on a rainy day and finishing a good book and the dessert your mom let you have on your tenth birthday. Not that he could admit that. So he just nodded, right as Taylor leaned over to kiss the apple of her cheek. 

She shied away, smiling to her lap and playing with her fingertips, not looking up from her little potted plant that sat next to her on her desk, and Spencer knew it was because she floundered when people gave her too much attention.

Like when Garcia had said her blouse and bun combo she’d worn the other day made her look like a sexy teaching assistant, she’d stammered something close to a thankyou and headed to the kitchenette to get herself a glass of water. Or when Rossi had said the bangs she had cut herself two weeks ago looked cute, that his daughter had been desperate to try something similar, she’d spilled her coffee down her front not even two seconds later because she had been so occupied telling the man it was no big deal. 

“Morning, Doctor Reid, Doctor Lewis,” Taylor said, his pearly white teeth gleaming with that West Coast, surfer boy tan that made Spencer want to huff. The man was insufferable. Well, correction, he was insufferably nice for someone Spencer was desperate to pick apart with faults the second he’d seen her preening over their sunshine rookie. 

“Morning, Agent Bingley,” Tara said civilly, smiling back at the Agent that passed them to head to the elevators. She caught a glimpse of Spencer, and was quick to make herself scarce in the interest of needing to check in with Penelope, because she knew what that stormy look in his eye and the way his lips pressed into a thin line meant, profiler or not. 

Spencer didn’t pay much attention to Lewis leaving his side, not that he was trying to be rude, his eyes were zeroed in on the way she fumbled around her desk, looking for imaginary mess to tidy, which included rearranging the pots of glitter pens and highlighters next to her monitor, only to put them back exactly how they were before. 

“Agent Bingley, that’s new,” Came a voice over her shoulder, that made her jump in her seat, and her expression was skittish when she swivelled around, Spencer towering over her with calculating eyes. Luke rolled his chair around the divider to lean in on the conversation, having witnessed the whole thing in high definition since her desk was right next to his. 

“Oh, Taylor?” She squeaked, and Spencer didn’t need to touch her face to know it had gone hot just by the way she simpered and fiddled with the hem of her knee length skirt, avoiding their gaze, “Yeah, he took me to the aquarium at the weekend and we got lunch. It’s not really serious or anything, I don’t think,” 

She seemed unsure, her lips pursed together and a tiny crease between her brow he hated, and it was then Luke’s deep laugh rumbled next to them. 

“Does he know that?” Luke asked, and she shot him a look, wide eyed and confused, as he cleared his throat, “I was thinking I could take you out again in that pretty red dress-”

She threw a wad of scrunched up notepaper at him, an embarrassed smile on her face as she shook her head at him, “You have spent way too much time with Penelope, you’re turning into gossiping school children,” 

But she seemed happy, like the thought of the conversation she’d had with Agent Bingley made her all the more girlish herself as she giggled lightly, her gaze meeting Spencer’s empty expression. He wished he could hide his jealousy better, perhaps even seem happy for her. She deserved someone soft and saccharine and humane like Bingley, not a rough shell of what once was a brilliant man. He knew he should feel somewhat pleased for her, at least now he had empirical, hard evidence on why he couldn’t have her, but he couldn’t. 

“All I’m saying, rookie, is if you got that man bringing you breakfast and sweet talking you after one date, you’ll have him wrapped around your pinky by the time he’s your boyfriend,” Luke chuckled, and Spencer thought he might just burst a vessel with how hard he clenched his jaw at that dreaded b word. 

Alvez had no idea just how much he had twisted a knife in Spencer’s gut, which was plunged even further when he saw that sparkle in her eye when she looked up at him. 

“Ignore him, he’s a busy body,” She chirped, her teeth peeking from her lips when she hid a grin, “You wanna get coffee later? Taylor brought me tea and I’m dying for the good stuff,” 

Spencer nodded with a small smile, because her attitude was infectious, and selfishly thinking that Bingley couldn’t be that perfect for her because she only ever wanted tea when she felt sick, usually towards the start of the month that he guessed was in correlation with her menstrual cycle but would never ask. She wouldn’t want tea for another two weeks, and would likely take an extra shot in her cappuccino today because this was when she felt the most lethargic.  

Swivelling back around in her chair to log onto her computer, she remained completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. 

For once, Spencer wished he’d been late to work.

–

Two months. They had been dating for two fucking months. As far as Spencer could tell, from Penelope’s need to chatter about their sunshine rookie and her hot, stud muffin of a boyfriend, things had only been official for about five weeks of that time, but it hadn’t stopped Spencer from wanting to swallow glass because that would likely be less inconvenient than seeing the two of them together. 

Taylor usually brought her breakfast whenever they would get back from a case, which infuriated Spencer because he always bought her tea. She was a people pleaser, Spencer knew it before he had ever thought of her as anything other than the shiny newbie with too much joy and doe eyes he’d never seen before. But now, knowing her better than anyone else in the office did because she practically shadowed his footsteps, it was blaringly obvious to him that she had either never told him she didn’t like tea first thing in the morning, or he had never bothered to take notice. 

Spencer felt an odd puddle of smugness and fury when on more than one occasion he saw her pouring it down the drain, cold after sitting there for hours until it was unbearable and she couldn’t force herself to drink anymore. It was obvious to him, so why wasn’t it obvious to her own boyfriend? Spencer thought bitterly. But then Agent Bingley did leave a sour taste in his mouth these days.

Speaking of which, Spencer felt that pang in his chest the way he always did when the happy couple walked into the office together. Her hand was usually in his, though she seemed to simper under the weight of the team's glances; knowing and teasing as he’d take her to her desk and whip out the to-go pastries that he’d bought them that morning. 

“Morning, Spence,” She skipped past his desk, Taylor trailing behind her like a dog, though she seemed not to mind keeping him waiting a moment as she spoke to her friend, “How was Doctor Who?”

He smiled despite his grudge, because she always remembered what he said. He’d told her once that Thursdays were his evening to watch the show, and every time Friday morning rolled around, she’d bound up to lean over his computer and ask. 

“It was okay, I’m excited to see what they do with a Female Doctor, even if I’ll miss Capaldi,” He replied earnestly, and her eyes filled with glee. 

“Did they give her a new one of the doo-hickies they have?” She asked, his chest butterflying with an aching sort of affection because she seemed to remember everything he ever told her. 

“Sonic Screwdriver?” She nodded her head, even though Spencer knew she didn’t quite understand the show entirely, “Yeah, I prefer Sarah Jane’s Sonic Lipstick however,” 

“I wish I had one of those, I could reapply and save the world, how cool would that be?” She said, and they laughed together a little, before Taylor popped his head over Spencer’s computer with that dentist white beam and his excitable eyes, bluer than any sea rolling onto shore. 

“Morning, Doctor Reid,” Agent Bingley said, and the smile withered from Spencer’s face, morphing into a civil nod, his expression unreadable. 

“Morning, Agent,” He said, his eyes tracking back to his screen as he suddenly found Emily’s group email about staff room fridge etiquette invigorating. 

Taylor must have taken it as a sign the Doctor Reid was busy and finally let him have a minutes peace, that is until she took a seat at her desk and he leaned next to her, handing her a warm bagel. 

Spencer heard them chatting for about ten minutes, of which he was trying anything to tune them out, including roping Luke into their own conversation. It wasn’t until there was a lapse in the chatter that Spencer’s ears pricked up, and he heard her stand up from her desk, eyes wide as she spat a mouthful out into a tissue. 

“Does this have coconut in it?” She asked somewhat fearfully, Spencer’s head whipping around to her little corner of the bullpen. Her little self help stickers dotted around her desktop stared back at him, her reminder to ‘drink water’ almost horribly ironic the second he’d heard her question. 

His stomach dropped when Taylor frowned, “Yeah, it’s coconut and raspberry, is-is that not okay?” 

Spencer was quick to stand up out of his own seat, rifling through his satchel to dig out his water bottle, making it to her desk in just two long paces and handing it to her without another word as she looked up at him worriedly. 

“If you need to puke, it’ll probably be for the best so that you can get the traces out of your stomach. You can’t have the steroids before you hurl or it won’t work,” He soothed, and she nodded, sipping on his water with shaky hands, and Spencer was quick to catch the way her skin had a slight sheen to it that hadn’t been there before. He put a hand on her shoulder, trying to gage if she was well enough to make it to the bathroom on her own or if he would need to drive her to the ER. Either way her expression worried him. 

“I-I thought it was white chocolate,” She peeped, looking extremely sorry for herself as she dumped the chewed up brownie in her bin, and Taylor almost appeared at her side, looking entirely lost as he stroked a hand down her hair. 

“Talk to me, what’s wrong?” He asked, seafoam hues trailing down her sweating face in terror. 

“She’s allergic to coconut,” Spencer cut in, his tone a little harsher than needed, and her boyfriend’s expression wilted like a kicked puppy. 

“Shit! You never mentioned, I’m so- I’m so sorry, honey,” Taylor went pale, and she didn’t look much better as she pushed past the two of them, heading for the bathroom, Spencer a single pace behind her. 

“I got her, don’t worry,” He called over his shoulder to Agent Bingley standing there like a gaping fish, his hand running through his blonde sweep as he watched her all but running out of the office, Spencer’s long legs keeping up with her. 

“Is your skin getting prickly yet?” Spencer asked. Swouldn't go into anaphylaxis, at least not as far as they knew, but the large hives that would appear on her chest and neck and the vomiting was not ideal. She kept a tray of steroids in her desk incase an accidental cross contamination happened (and because Spencer had forced her to have some on hand), but seeing her panicked eyes as she tasted the chalky fruit had made him fawn over her like she was marked for the plague. 

“Neck is getting itchy,” She replied, tugging at her collar and pushing the door to the unisex bathrooms open, heading for the nearest stall, “You don’t have to stay for this bit, it’s not-”

He cut her off by sweeping her hair into a ponytail, as if to tell her to stop worrying about him, and he stroked a hand over her arm to let her know he was right there, because he knew she really hated anything gory and gross like that. 

He hushed her when she’d try to apologise, hand her his bottle of water in between moments where her whole body seized.

And for a minute, she thought that Spencer might be the only person who she’d ever let see her like this. Not Luke, or Garcia and certainly not Taylor. 

The thought of it kept her quiet for the rest of the morning. 

-

They seemed to move past the whole debacle quickly. Luke said Taylor had taken her to a fancy restaurant uptown to apologise, making a huge point to avoid the coconut banoffee pudding like it was an explosive. 

“You guys are so cute, you’re like Jane and he’s literally your Bingley. I swear your kids are going to be sweet enough I could drizzle them right next to ice cream,” Penelope said over the SUV console speaker, Spencer in the driving seat and her in the passenger, flicking through her files as they approached the victim’s house. 

The rookie blanched, “Woah, woah, kids?” She protested, and even Spencer felt himself nearly swerve the minute the bubbly IT geek said it. She looked shaken, awkwardly chuckling and reaching to tuck hair behind her ear, “Slow down, Garcia, we’ve not even- you know what, I think we’re talking about the wrong thing here-“ 

“You’ve not even what?” Penelope burst out, her need for the lastest gossip overwhelming the reading of the room. She swallowed heavily, shifting in her seat to face out of the window, her knees touching the door with a thud, “Have you guys not had sex yet?” 

“Penelope!” The woman screeched, her face hot and gobsmacked that she’d even said it out loud. 

But it was telling enough, and Spencer’s face whirled over the console to her, guilt written on her features. 

“I just assumed you guys had done it seeing as both of you are the hottest couple I know, I mean I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you if I was a guy-“ Penelope tried to save herself in the only way she knew how, by digging herself a deeper hole. 

Spencer’s hand shot out for the centre screen, “We’re losing you, Garcia, you’re breaking up, bye,” He pressed the end call button, and he didn’t need to look at the girl’s face to know she was the epitome of mortified. 

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, the awkward silence of the car killing him as much as he knew it was her, but he thought better of it and clamped his mouth shut. It took him a minute before he opened his mouth to speak again, if not to ask her if she wanted to stop at a drive thru for breakfast, but she beat him to it. 

“I was going to say we’ve not even said I love you yet,” She murmured, keeping her body entirely swivelled away from him, her arms crossed over her chest in an attempt to make herself smaller, as if she could just smush herself into the seat so he wouldn’t say anything. She cleared her throat, scratching her wrist nervously, “But I guess that’s also true too,” 

“Why not?” Her eyes snapped onto Spencer when he braved those two words, and he sensed he’d overstepped some sort of boundary before he realised it sounded like he’d been speaking about the latter, “Why haven’t you said it?” He clarified. 

She went quiet, her shoulders shrugging being the only sign that she’d heard him, gaze trailing back out her window. 

“He’s not said it yet either, and I don’t think I want him to. Not yet at least,” Her voice was soft, heavy as if every single one of them was coming from her heart, “Love is such a big emotion I think if he did say it, I wouldn’t know how to respond. Like, if I’m going to say it back to someone, I want to be sure I feel it otherwise it’s like I’m betraying everyone else’s version of love, you know?” 

He thought she might just be an angel bottled up and thrown into his life, and he sometimes wished he could take a look inside that head of hers because how she had protected her beautiful look on the world after seeing so much hurt staggered him. He had become cruel and cold and heavy where she looked at the lecherous shithole heading for disaster they called Earth and saw right to its soul, gave it a hug, told it she would care even when no one else would. 

He tore his eyes from the road, and took in the outline of her face, mindlessly watching the pedestrians on their daily commute to grab lunch, a dog peeing against a lamp post, a motorcyclist bobbing and weaving in between the midday traffic, her doe eyes never missing a trick.

Forcing his gaping expression back on the road, because he might just swerve and hit the damn rider off his bike if he let himself get lost in his little dreamscape that consisted of nothing but her and her face and her thoughts and her words, he cleared his throat, not sure how to add to the poetic, rose tint she seemed to see the world in.

“That’s good, that you’re taking things at your own pace, atleast,” He said, not particularly profound but at least it was something, “You shouldn’t do things just because someone else wants you to, even if you think it would make them happy,”

“But I like making people happy,” She countered, her expression troubled as she looked over at him with a quirked brow, “I like making you happy especially,”

“What makes you think I’m not happy?” Spencer asked, his mouth drying up, his stomach flipping in cartwheels when she giggled to herself like for once she was the smart one snd he was the one who needed teaching.

“It took you three and a half weeks to crack a smile when we first started working together,” His jaw clenched, because he was the one who counted the statistics. Perhaps he was rubbing off on her. “Honestly, I thought you hated me. I thought a seasoned agent like yourself probably would get frustrated teaching the dumb newbie the ABC’s, even ones that admire him. But then I thought, instead of getting so butt hurt about it all, I could just give you a reason to smile and you’d see that I’m not just a useless rookie learning to roll over for treats.”

Spencer’s throat bobbed. He’d hate himself forever for being so cruel to her those first few weeks, the clipped tones when she’d add something in a particularly chirpy voice, the way he would forget his manners sometimes when she’d bring him a coffee, because his head had been so deep in survival mode that being nice didn’t matter. Being nice had got him nowhere in Mexico, in fact it had shown his soft underbelly and drawn a target on it. 

“I never hated you,” His voice croaked out, weak and pathetic, and it's times like that he remembered ten years ago talking to her would have made him blush, pop a boner, and lose half his IQ all in one go. Coughing, his knuckles turned white at the wheel, and he avoids her gaze that feels like a pitfall trap, “It’s difficult to go back to how you used to be when you’ve got a thousand eyes on your back waiting for you to lower your guard,”

“I know, I know that now, I jus-” She floundered, worried she’d touched a nerve, but he stopped her by leaning over the console and putting a gentle hand on her kneecap.

“Relax, I know I wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around,” Spencer said, his timbre quiet but honest, “You were one of the few things I looked forward to, if I’m honest.”

“Really?” She said, agog, like she was waiting for him to turn around and say it had been a joke, “You didn’t think I’m too loud or, like, too much?”

“How can there be too much of you? If your body wasn’t in correct proportion, your organs wouldn't function-”

“Spencer,” She said, though he knew she was smiling even without having to look, “You know that’s not what I meant,”

“I know,” He replied, a smug little smile quirking on his own lips because he loved making her happy too, “No, I could never find you too much.”

She simpered under his words, his hand a stoked flame on her skin as she brought her fingers over the top of them to squeeze them together, before she changed the subject because she knew her cheeks might just explode if they heated anymore.

–

They were back from a long case, one that had made everyone tired and grumpy, especially because they needed to swing by the office for an hour of admin even Emily couldn’t wriggle them out of. 

And ofcourse, as he always was when Spencer was feeling like he was already about to strangle someone out of annoyance, Agent Bingley was right there when they entered the lobby.

She hadn’t slept well on the jet, despite Spence loaning her his jumper to use as a pillow, and she was in desperate need of coffee, the kind that Spencer and Penelope forced her to try instead of the cold caramel thing she liked. She’d even go for one of Luke’s zero sugar, zero milk atrocities right now.

“Hey guys, how was the flight?” Taylor jumped in to ask, and everyone gave some sort of variation of a groan because that was exactly how it had felt. His attention turned to her, as she pulled up the rear with Spencer attached her her hip because she had been practically sleepwalking the entire way there, “Hi honey,”

“Taylor, hi,” She said, her eyes perking up when he held out a hot take away cup for her, “You really didn’t have to,”

“Nonsense, herbal tea is supposed to alleviate headaches and help get you to sleep,” He replied, his other hand behind his back quickly whipping out to produce a bunch of flowers in front of her face.

She barely had time to flash him a grin to hide the disappointment that it was nowhere near as caffeinated as she’d like, nor that she didn’t even liked herbal tea, before a bunch of lilies were thrust her way.

“Lillies,” She said, her hand covering her chest at the touching sentiment, “Taylor, you shouldn’t have,”

“I know they’re your favourites,” The blonde replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and effectively putting a wall between her and Spencer, whether he meant to or not. Her expression wavered, and Spencer's eyes went straight to her, waiting for her to correct him. Because they weren’t her favourites, not even in her top five. Hyacinths were. Or Foxglove. Or Delphiniums. Not Lillies. 

She nodded wordlessly, and the three of them headed for the lift, where the rest of the team held the door for them, her expression tiptoeing between guilty and smiling, Taylor’s almost ecstatic to see her after her long few days away, and Spencer’s entirely pissed off that the sun kissed jerk couldn’t see every sign blaring in his face. 

“I might have to cut off the stamen when Ace comes over,” She queried, her eyes roving over the beautiful white petals opening towards her like a book.

“Ace? Who’s Ace?” He said, and Spencer and JJ exchanged a glance, because the whole elevator was now privy to their conversation as David pressed the six button. Taylor reached forward to push the three for himself.

“The dog I foster sometimes, the one I told you about. He helps me when I need to talk through some things. He’s a very good listener,,” She said with a dopey smile on her face, her eyes casting over her boyfriends face with a willing expression, because she knew for a fact she’d told him at lengths about the bouncy Spaniel that adored her, “He comes over for playdates, but the pollen inside lilies are poisonous to dogs,”

Taylor scrunched his nose up, “Ugh, I hate dogs, they’re so slobbery and the always seem to smell awful,” He commented, her face dropping the slightest in a way that made Spencer’s hand curl into a fist, because how dare Agent Bingley take that away from her, “I thought you were a cat person?”

“I like them both equally, but Ace is sweet. He curls up on my legs after we’ve gone for a walk,” Taylor still didn’t seem convinced, and she felt stupid for even mentioning it, well aware that the rest of her team were listening in on her childish description of the old dog that wanted nothing but love. 

“Why do you need a dog to talk anyway, babe? You have me,” Taylor said, in a way that was supposed to sound comforting but made Spencer want to shake him and tell him to listen to a damn word she was saying. Her eyes dimmed, and she looked at the lilies again, feeling entirely ungrateful for wishing they were something else, and the elevator doors opened onto the third floor. Taylor kissed her cheek and waltzed out of the lift with a quick goodbye to her team that was returned in murmurs. Turning to look at her, his body already in the anteroom of his own floor, he smiled sweetly at her, “I love you,”

JJ and Emily whipped their heads to her face, expecting to see some kind of puppy love blossom there, only to find wide-eyed panic, her smile slowly slipping. Rossi cleared his throat when she said nothing, the air turning stale as the team waited for her response, Taylor looking at her expectantly, and she wished the ground would open up then and there to swallow her whole, because that would probably be better than whatever this was.

Tara nudged her shoulder, waking her out of her daze, Luke scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, and it was then after a beat more of silence that Taylor opened his mouth again, “Babe, did you hear what I-”

She leaned forward to press the close door button, her doe hues in full flight mode, her fingers only picking up the pace when her boyfriend took a step closer towards the elevator, and Emily brought a hand over her mouth in muffled laughter when the doors slammed shut in front of him, their sunshine rookie entirely spooked and needing a quick exit.

The tiny metal box went silent, Spencer watching her face meld from alarm to horror, to sheer embarrassment.

“I mean, I’ll give it to you kid, that’s one way to do it,” Rossi said, patting her on the back and she shoved her face in her hands, the stems of the dove white flowers brushing against her cheek roughly.

“Please tell me that didn’t just happen,” She groaned through her fingers, JJ chuckling as the doors to their own floor opened up.

“Oh honey,” She said, rubbing the girl’s back gently, leading her out onto the BAU carpet that felt harsher against the souls of her shoes than it ever had before, “I think what you need is a coffee and a long talk with someone who isn’t a dog,”

Spencer watched her shuffle to slump down behind her desk, her expression still rattled and lost, JJ’s eyes flicking to him every now and then in a way that urged him to be the one to do just that because it was obvious by now who she talked the most openly to in the office.

But by the time he’d braved walking over to her desk, she’d already rushed through her report, excusing herself home for the day, and he knew her well enough to know she needed some breathing room before he could approach the subject, otherwise she would shut the doors on him too.

He hated the spiteful part of him that revelled in Taylor’s expression when that metal screen had slammed in his face.

—

It was three days later, and she had enforced a strict ban on talking about that day in the office. For once she didn’t look like she was going to break her resolve either, since every time someone tried to weasel information of her she would either pretend she hadn’t heard, or would excuse herself to make her fifth coffee of the day, or even had thrown her paperwork on the floor when Luke had pushed her for an answer just for an excuse to avoid the topic.

In fact, Spencer himself had been tempted to get her alone because he knew she would crack without much pressure from him, though the thought of using her trusting nature against her seemed wicked, and so he stopped himself and settled for curiosity.

It wasn’t until they were away on a case and they were shoved in a room together that the subject of Taylor was even brought up, and even then it was entirely out of his control.

“I’ll take the couch,” Spencer said, his eyes falling on the double bed in the centre of the room, striding over the other side of the room to throw his to go bag down on the two seater sofa that would wreck his back.

“Don’t be silly, we can just share the bed.” She said, as if it was the most obvious solution, which it was, “I sleep talk a little, but just give me a shove and I’ll shut up,” 

Spencer paused, watching her fumbling around her bag for her toothbrush and paste.

“Won’t your boyfriend mind?” He asked, his palms clammy because he worried for a moment it was wrong to bring it up, and his chest butterflied when she froze, “Sorry, I know you didn’t want to talk about it, I just thought I wouldn’t like my girlfriend sharing a bed-”

“We broke up,” She said, taking pulling a large pink shirt out her bag and some strawberry printed shorts, her toiletries stuffed in her pockets, “So don’t worry about any of that stuff, we can share,”

And she waltzed into the bathroom without any more explanation, the lock clicking behind her and leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts.

They had broken up? Was it because of what happened in the elevator? Was it because of what Penelope said in the car? Was she the one to break up with him or the other way around?

Spencer felt like a gossip, even though his thoughts had gone no further than his cranium, and by the time she emerged from the bathroom, fresh faced and in her pyjamas, he had already changed himself, tucked himself under the cover in the hope she understood they didn’t need to talk about it if she didn’t want to.

She smiled at him, tucking her dirty clothes back in her bag and heading for the bed, slipping under the plush duvet with a soft ooft. 

“Light on or off?” She asked, her finger hovering over the switch beside their bed.

“On, if that’s okay?” He replied and she nodded wordlessly, shuffling down under the covers, pulling them up to just below her armpits. Crossing her arms over her stomach like she was snow white waiting to fall into a poison-laced slumber, her eyes bore holes into the ceiling, and his thoughts banged loudly against his temple. The silence of the room seemed to only turn their avoidance tactics into a cacophony they couldn’t ignore.

“If you’re going to ask questions, I might as well tell you before we get back to Quantico.” She said finally, her sigh heavy and exhausted and she looked over at him, his brunette locks splaying over the pillow in waves, his facial hair scratching against the sheet when he flicked his head over to her too. 

Hazel had never been such a pretty colour than when they sat in silence for a moment, staring at one another, almost daring the other to speak first. He swallowed, his mouth watering at how she looked, tucked under the sheets, her body lax and soft under her pyjamas, her hands skimming over her stomach nervously.

“Is it because of the day in the elevator?” Spencer asked after a few minutes, breaths suddenly becoming difficult to regulate naturally unless he forced them to be, because he was so close to her under the covers, his entire body too long and gangly for just a twin bed, he could smell her shampoo and conditioning combo in full force. Her spearmint tongue rolled words around her mouth for a minute, dropping down to his Star Wars shirt he felt childish for wearing the minute he saw her looking at it.

“Kind of, he just wanted us to move so fast, it just kinda made me nervous, but I always thought being nervous was supposed to be good, you know?” She sighed, forgetting to breathe in between her splurge of words that had been building up inside her for weeks, “Like you said the feeling of excitement and fear are almost identical so I think I just convinced myself I was being dumb and I was being a bad person for not just giving him what he wanted. I’m supposed to love him, right? Being his girlfriend and all that,”

He had said that; because scientifically that was exactly correct. The hormones released during love and during fear were, down to their core, chemical matches, and it felt funny she’d remembered that fact considering she made him feel somewhere in between too. He knew she was special, just as much as he knew the idea of tainting her with his core terrified him. Like he secreted some kind of radiation that would ruin her if she got too close for too long. But he couldn’t help it. How do you stop yourself from wanting something good? It was just science. A Pavlovian response. 

“You’re not supposed to do anything. There’s no timeline for how you feel, and you can’t force yourself to feel something any quicker or stronger than you do,” He said, shaking his head when she bit her lip, her fingertips playing with one another ontop of the sheets.

“He wanted to know when I was ready to have…” She swallowed, her cheeks heating, “Intimacy with him. A-and it’s not like I’ve not done it before, I had a boyfriend in high school, but I just felt like with him…”

“He didn’t pressure you, did he?” Spencer asked, his brows furrowing as he felt a surge of annoyance flash through his blood that she had wound herself up so much just because of some guy who couldn’t keep it in his pants for a few months. 

Her eyes widened, taking in the storm brewing in that beautiful woodland gaze of his, and she shook her head quickly, “No, no, nothing like that. This was all on me, it was all just me being dumb,”

“You’re not being dumb just because some guy didn’t like the answer you gave,” He corrected, exhaling deeply and letting his frown drop, because he knew she hated when he did that, “Why didn’t you want to, if you don’t mind me asking?”

She shrugged, looking back up at the dusty lamp shade hanging from the ceiling, the cobwebs that smattered around the wooden panels.

“I don’t know, I just kind of never saw the two of us.. becoming intimate, you know?” She said, her tone sheepish like she was in confession and he was a priest sat on the other side of the divide. He looked over at her, scanning the outline of her face, but she seemed adamant on avoiding his gaze, because she knew she would spill everything the minute she looked at him. With Spencer, there were no secrets, and that was entirely the problem. 

Spencer’s lips pursed, thinking of exactly the right thing to say to such a delicate soul when she was laying herself hypothetically bare for him. 

“You don’t have to be intimate in a relationship if you don’t want to. No one who loves you should ever make you feel like there’s an expectation or like you owe them that,” Spencer explained softly, edging his pinky finger out the tiniest bit to catch the back of her hand that now lay flat on the bed, her head turning up to meet his round forest hues that looked down at her with more softness than he’d felt in a long time. 

He wished he could stay here with her forever. In the quiet of this room, they were just the two of them, not Doctor Reid and the Special Agent he had a huge hopeless crush on that was years his junior and thought she could fix everything wrong with the world. 

“I know,” She sighs, and his heart caught in his throat when her pinky raises up to meet his own, the tips of their fingers brushing against one another like they were meeting each other for a slow dance. He had touched her many times before, but there was something illicit about this time. Like their skin had become oppositely charged and was pulling the other one in with an electric crackle, “He never pressured me but I felt like I could have tried harder to want it.”

“If you don’t want it, you don’t ever have to have it. A lot of people reach your age when your frontal cortex is developed and realise they might be asexual, it’s not a bad thing-” He tried reassuring her, but she was quick to shake her head again, bashfully ripping her eyes away from him to look at their caressing fingertips. 

“No, no. It’s not that I never want to be intimate ever, I just never really felt comfortable around him enough to let myself want it. Like I couldn’t just be me with him, I was just being what he wanted me to be. Like he never really knew the real me,” She explained, and she rolled over onto her side to face him, her other finger coming up to absentmindedly trace over the prominent vein that ran up his arm, stopping just below where his old needle scars were at the crook of his elbow. If she saw them, she didn’t say a word, but Spencer felt like she was trailing a flame over his skin. He thought if she took his manhood in her hand she’d probably get the exact same response from him, because with every invisible swirl and line she drew over his skin, he felt a heat ripping through his loins. “Does that make sense? Like I didn’t think he would like the ikky parts of me so I ended up putting on a charade,” 

“Y-yeah,” He replied, and his stammer made her look up, eyes wide and innocent as she watched him all but falling apart under a single fingertip. God he was pathetic. Mid thirties and nearly finishing in his boxers over a pretty girl touching his arm. Only it wasn’t just a pretty girl. It was her. His sunshine girl. “But I don’t think you have any ikky parts, to be honest,”

Her eyes deepened into pools of awe, and he watched her trail a glance down his nose to his mouth vulnerably.

“Spencer, you’re being too kind,” She whispered, and he swore his chest lurched.

He cleared his throat, and moved to roll over towards her too, hoping to disperse some of the energy that was clogging between them, only for it to become dialled to a hundred, trapping them in a tiny box where they were looking at one another, laying on the bed they were being forced to share and almost holding hands, because committing to full thing was scary like they were ten years old in a playground. 

“Of course that makes sense. It’s much healthier to form intimate relationships with people we trust and feel safe with than rushing into things,” Spencer tried to breeze past the tension, but her breath was fanning over his face, almost tripping him over his words, because she was still looking at him like he knew all the answers. Because he usually did. Except for this time. This time, he felt like he was walking blind towards his point, “Not that one night stands should be shamed or anything, but it’s much better to engage in sexual intercourse with someone when it feels right,”

She breathed out deeply, licking her lips, and her finger movements stopped. 

“So it’s just a when you know, you know, kind of thing?” She asked, her brows pulling together in a saddened frown, “I’m not, like, broken or anything?” 

He sat up on his elbow, grabbing her wrist tight enough she would listen the minute he said it to her, because he never wanted to hear her say that again, “There is nothing wrong with you, you hear me?” She looked up at him with glassy eyes, wide and shocked to see him so desperately insistent over her, “You feeling secure is more important than any guy out there, no matter how nice they are, got it?” 

She nodded after a beat, because she thought her brain might have stopped working with the way he was leaned over her, looking down at her with a glimmer of the harshness he’d been drowning in when she first met him. These days he seemed to have mellowed out the tiniest bit, except the straightforward tone he held with everyone else who wasn’t her, or the general heavy handedness he didn’t seem to realise he was capable of. Like in the way his warm, rough hands gripped the skin of her wrist, his expression somewhat frustrated though not with her as he looked down at where she was half beneath him.

“Spence?” She whispered into the electricity between them, her eyes trailing over his nose again and ghosting over his half attempt at facial hair. They were just whisps, but they suited him embarrassingly well. He didn’t reply, just stared at her to wait for her response, “I feel safe with you, you know that?” 

He swore his heart was thumping out of his chest. She looked divine under his hand, sweet like a pudding begging him to taste, and he couldn’t help it when his thumb trailed up the side of her jaw, brushing just under her bottom lip, and she seemed to press herself further into his touch, a cat being scratched behind velvet ears.

“You’d tell me if you ever wanted me to stop, wouldn’t you?” He murmured, gooseflesh crawling up his arm when she nodded, her eyes boring holes into his soul when she looked up at him like that.  

“Always,” She answered honestly, blinking at him once, twice, before she took a deep breath for courage, “But what if I never wanted you to stop?”

Spencer nearly moaned when he crashed their lips together, and he heard her squeak in delight beneath him, his large hand cupping her jaw, weaving into her hair, tugging her closer. She felt like her was consuming her whole, and she had no qualms about it, not when she reached a hand up to his shoulder and tugged him even more on top of her, the weight of him on her chest comforting and achingly right. 

He pulled away to breathe for a moment, but she was chasing his lips, her touch maddening and he swore his brain switched off when she ran a hand up his spine, slipping under his shirt and tracing over every one of his vertebrae making him shiver. Her lips were stronger than any craving he had ever felt, the instant dopamine rush embarrassing for a man of his age, so hardened by the world reduced to putty, ready to beg for more because now he’d had a taste of her ambrosia, he didn’t think he could ever think straight again. A man sent crazy by forbidden wine.

He pushed her hair away from her face, using his long fingers to wrap around the back of her head and pull her impossibly closer to him, his other arm skirting down to her clothed waist and pressing their bodies together. She whined in his mouth, and Spencer thought he could finally die happy.

He pulled away to let her catch a gasp, her fingers carding through his long, brown curls, scratching against his scalp in a way that drew a low growl from his throat. He needed more, needed her, more than the air he gulped down ravenously and he found himself kissing at her soft neck, her head tipped back in bliss as he kissed every inch he could.

“The reason I didn’t want it with Taylor,” She choked between manic breaths, her hands holding onto him so tight he knew she didn’t have any intention of asking him to stop, “Was because it didn’t feel like this,”

Spencer wove their fingers together, pushing her hand above her head as the other came up to tilt her face towards him, looking into her bleary eyes for a second, their noses ghosting past one another, her mint breath delicious on his lips.

“It never feels like this, baby,” He whispered, their foreheads pressing together before he gave into her again and pressed his lips against hers so hard she whimpered into his mouth.

And she believed him.

--