#getting really tired of these follow bots

[gothushi]

sugar rush

pairing: charlie x f!reader

warnings: overstim, squirting, charlie smokes a cigarette, hurt/comfort if u squint, somno, one creampie

note: my chat with my charlie bot may be sweet and cute, but this idea is far from it:p took the opening from said bot as well! no outright reader descriptions other than ur shorter, and portrayed as a bit cutesy. reader also has chronic migraines bc i said so. also proofreading this at 3am.. sorry for any mistakes.

word count: 8.3k

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A shitty day. That’s what he’s had.

Charlie toes off his boots, rough hands pulling his coat off to hang it up, an annoyed huff leaving his lips. Moving into the kitchen, he finds you, his sweet little wife, a little apron on over your frilly outfit and a bowl of batter being mixed up before you.

He’s so tired, pissed, dried blood splattering his sweater, jeans, even his hands which he reveals by pulling his gloves off. Even his hair is a bit out of place, jaw clenched with a sigh coming through his nose.

“Hi!” Ever so happy to just see him coming home safe, you turn to glance at him. You have to do a double take, noting the blood all over him and frown, “Oh please don’t get anythin’ on the floor. I just mopped earlier.”

The oven beeps as it’s done preheating, turning back to pour the batter into a muffin tin, cupcake liners in the slots.

“Don’t be an annoyance,” his voice is rougher than he means for it to be. He knows he has no reason to have an attitude with you. Saying no apologies though, he pulls a cigarette from the pack in his hand as he empties his pockets onto the counter. Shoving it between his lips, he lights it inside and waits for your complaints. “..had a day,” he mutters.

“I don’t care how much of a day you’ve had, go over by the doors!” You complain with a sweet whine, waving a hand in the direction of the glass sliding doors across the living room that leads to the big backyard. You begin undoing your apron after setting the dirtied bowl in the sink.

“You really are a little thorn in my ass, aren’t you.” There’s no real bite to his words, following your instructions to head to the door to smoke, sliding one open as the cool night air filters in.

Leaning against the doorframe and closing his eyes, he sighs through his nose before inhaling, cigarette end fuming red before dispersing as he exhales the smoke. Once the timer is set, you shuffle over, frilly socks sliding along the wood floor. You lay a hand on his upper arm, getting on your tip toes to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“They’re your fav’rite. Strawberry cheesecake.” You smile a little. He can smell your perfume, a sweet scent, mixed up with the muffin batter.

This is his favorite part of the day - coming home to you. Charlie wraps an arm around your waist loosely, his thumb rubbing softly at the hem of your shirt, admiring your cuteness. He glances down, cigarette held between a couple fingers, “Do me a favor, love?”

You’d really like to fuss over the blood on his clothes, not ever wanting anywhere near the stuff when he’s all dirty in it, but decide it isn’t the time. “Mm. What?”

He chuckles at the little attempt you make to get closer, leaning up on your toes. Flicking some ashes outside, he tilts his head, his hand on your waist sliding down over the pleats of your skirt. “Be a darling and go fetch me a glass of whiskey, no ice.”

Smiling, you lean up on your toes again to steal another kiss, on the lips this time. “Okay.” One more against the corner of his lips for good measure, before you head off to the kitchen. Only a moment later do you come back, his request in hand, offering it to him. “Here y’go.”

He’d hum in approval as you kissed him, eyes raking over your body as you walk away. Thankful to have some affection after his shitty day. His hand finds your waist again, the one holding his cigarette taking the glass. He takes a generous sip, closing his eyes for a moment. He visibly relaxes, shoulders dropping some as he looks back down at you. “How was your day?”

That’s where you seem to falter for just a moment. You shrug, hands held behind your back, “Jus’ cleaned. Mopped, did the laundry, had to run a few errands. I read some too.”

He knows you too well. Charlie sees the signs, now that he’s really looking at you, the twinge of your eyebrows, the slight redness to your eyes. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head and setting the glass down on the small table against the wall by the door. Flicking his cigarette back outside, ashes falling to the deck, “Go lay down, love,” he mutters, hand sliding up to cup your cheek. No arguing.

You whine, tilting your head into his hand, “‘m okay.. I wanted to heat up your dinner for you.” You tend to fuss and push through a migraine, going and going until your nearly collapse or cry with the pain, often times doing it just because he isn’t home to stop you.

“No you aren’t, love.” He tsks again, leaning down some more, “You need to rest.” His tone is scolding, “I’ll heat it up myself. But I want you upstairs with a cold cloth over your pretty eyes, okay?”

“But.. I missed you.” You mumble, leaning a bit closer. Just the fact that you get near his bloodstained clothes is a testament to how much you’re craving his presence.

That tugs at his heartstrings, and his heart nearly melts into a puddle. His hand slides around to the small of your back, smiling, “I missed you too, doll,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, “but it kills me more to know you’re in pain. So go lay down, yeah?”

Pouting a little, you peek up at him through your lashes. Sighing through your nose, you nod, “There’s a plate made f’you in the fridge. ‘Nd the muffins have to be taken out in fifteen minutes.” You hesitate before leaning your chin on his chest, even over the dried blood, “Come up after you’ve ate? I can run y’a bath…”

Charlie nods as he listens to your info. He can wash off the blood, get clean, snuggle up in bed with you. The last part has him chuckling, nodding, “A bath sounds lovely. Go lay down, my sweet.” He’ll give you one last squeeze before releasing you. There better be a cold washcloth on your head when he gets upstairs.

Listening with no more arguments, you grab some water from the kitchen before heading upstairs. In the bathroom you take a couple of your prescribed pain pills, swallowing them down with a gulp of water and turning the tap on in the tub. Sticking the stopper down, you hold a bottle of bubble bath under the running water and squeeze a little bit out, putting it back in its place on the shelf.

In the bedroom now, you lay down after taking your makeup off, curled up under the covers with a cold, wet washcloth over your forehead and eyes, reclined back into the pillows.

Charlie comes up fifteen minutes later, pushing the door the rest of the way open and smiling at you. There you are, laying prettily under the white comforter. He makes his way over, leaning down to press a small kiss to your lips.

A little noise escapes you, jolting, having almost dozed fully to sleep. Lifting a hand up, you peel the cloth off of one eye, looking up at him. He grins, brow raising a little, his now clean hand coming up to cradle your face. Must have washed most of the blood off in the downstairs bathroom.

“Relax, love. I’m gonna go wash up, okay?” He murmurs softly, giving your cheek a soft pat. A little smile and hum is all he receives whilst his fingers pull the cloth back over your eye.

Once he’s all clean of the grimy sweat and blood, towel wrapped round his waist, you’re fast asleep again, dozing off and on. That’s just adorable. Some water sticks to his skin, mainly dripping from his hair onto his shoulders. He can’t help but pause to admire you for just a moment, before heading to grab a clean pair of boxers. Rubbing the towel over his hair for a moment, he smooths it back and comes to crawl into bed, adjusting himself beside you and being careful not to jostle you in any way.

“Mmm.. smell good.” Well, you did pick out the bubble bath for him. You snuggle into him, keeping your face facing up so the cloth doesn’t slip off, hands hugging the arm he tosses over your front.

Charlie hums in approval, kissing your temple, lips feeling the cold edge of the fabric. His thumb rubs your hip, nosing at your hair to breathe your scent in until his lungs are full. There’s no where else he’d rather be than with you right here - away from his reality of work, no matter how much he enjoys it, in this sweet world of bliss with you.

“My sweet girl,” Charlie whispers.

“Did y’have a muffin? Did they turn out good?” You mumble softly, sounding half asleep. It’s still early for you both, but a nap won’t hurt either of you.

He chuckles, nodding against the side of your head, giving your hip a squeeze, “I had two, love. They were delicious.”

You exhale slowly, relaxing against him and smelling the body wash he used, faint shampoo smell that matches. The soft scent soothes your head, senses fuzzy.

He feels like this is the perfect scene to take advantage of, you being in a sleep, vulnerable state. He’ll have to keep you like this a little longer. His hand slides down to your thigh, giving the plump flesh a squeeze, cheeky smile pulling at his mouth.

“Mmm..” The hum escapes from your throat, shifting closer to him, legs parting naturally from his touch. His fingers slide over the smooth skin there, drawing lazy circles with his pointer. They find the hem of your skirt, reaching up under. He can’t help it, not when he’s got such a cute little thing all to himself.

Another noise, a small hum, tilting your head towards him a bit. “Charlie..” You mumble out his name just ‘cause you can, the touch feels nice. Even despite the consistent throb in your forehead, it feels good.

He loves your little noises so much. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the side of your head with a soft chuckle. His fingers wander up, moving until he finds the lacey waistband of your panties, soft as a little cloud under his touches.

Sighing through your nose, you tilt up some, “Mm.. be gentle..”

He gives a noise himself in acknowledgment to your request, head tilting to press a kiss to your temple. Gentle as ever, his fingers slip under the waistband. Pad of his middle finger finds already slick skin, his thumb rubbing over the lower half of your navel.

Gasping as he feels over your entrance, already aroused, your thighs part some more. The cotton fabric stretches over his knuckles, bruised, soft on his skin, “Mmmm..”

Another approving hum from him. His lips find your cheek as his fingers spread you, middle on swiping through slick to bring it up to your clit, moving in slow circles. He groans himself, kissing at the shell of your ear as he brings his other arm to fold under your head, a makeshift pillow.

“You’re doin’ good,” he whispers, “you’re so good.”

You whine again at the praise, tensing a little, pushing your head back into his arm and your hips up into his touch. Your own hands wander, trying to paw at him, his arm, wherever you can grab. “Charlie..”

He can’t help but love the way his name sounds out of those sweet lips. His head tilts, kissing the side of your face. Your fingers grab at his arm, his bicep. “Mmm,” he groans as you roll your hips down. Now two fingers, they swipe up more wetness, easing the way on your clit in tiny circular motions, “There we go. Just like that, sweetheart.”

Your head turns, wanting a kiss, mouthing at his cheek when you find it blindly. Painted nails dig into his bicep, just holding on, thighs spreading and helping your hips move as he plays with your pussy. More slick drools from you, soaking the fabric of your panties. Even the cloth over your eyes helps to make it feel more intense, as if you were blindfolded.

Charlies tongue darts out to lick his lips, dark eyes watching you yearn for a kiss but he won’t give it to you, keeping himself out of reach with a taunting smile on his lips. He wants to savor this moment like fine wine. “No no, love. Stay still,” he scolds you softly. His fingers slide down, more slick, back up to your swelling clit with quicker movements.

“Charlie-” Your breathing hitches, brows furrowing up in pleasure, knees bending a bit. There we go. He slides his fingers down, middle one rubbing a circle around your entrance, groaning at how wet you are, how hot.

“There we go, sweetheart. That feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Ah-.. yeah- yeah..” You’re gasping, lips parting. “Thank you,” you whine, still trying to lean up for a kiss, one hand pushing at the covers over you both.

He laughs again, loving to tease you as he tilts his head back out of reach again. That finger will press firmly against your entrance, then slide in slowly, stretching you out a little, “You’re gonna keep being good for me, aren’t you?”

Your jaw drops at the touch in a silent gasp, tensing up a little, accepting the breach. “Charlie!” You whimper, nodding even though you can’t see him, “Yes! Yes.”

He buries his face against your shoulder, watching what he can see of your pretty features, kissing at the exposed skin of your collarbone. His breath is hot and heavy, leaning up by your ear, pressing in to the knuckle. “There you go, feels sooo good..”

He goes slow to ease you into the sensation as you squirm, wiggling down onto that single finger. Your own fingers tighten on his bicep, lightly scratching. It feels so good, you’re so sensitive, pent up, easily pleasured.

He can’t resist another laugh at your writhing, shushing you, “Shh, just relax. Let me take care of you.”

That finger keeps pressing in and out, in and out, curling up on the in rhythmically until he slowly presses a second one along the first, slick covering his fingers and smearing against your panties. He curls them again, going deeper and deeper to find that sweet little spot.

The stretch has you whimpering, and he knows he’s found that spot when you jolt and cry out, trying to lean against him, “There-”

“There?”

He abuses the spot automatically, lips kissing at the underside of your jaw, giving a light suck.

You sound like you’re actually crying, panting softly as whimpers spill from your mouth with every rushed exhale. “Charlie-.. Charlie.” You can feel the embarrassing mess in your underwear, can hear the slick noises of his fingers fucking into you, face flushing. Your nails dig into his arm, leaving crescents at one hand drops down to grab at his wrist.

His teeth scrape over your skin. He knows you so well, knows what your sounds mean and can tell how close you are. “Mmm, that’s my girl. My good girl.”

He groans at the thought of seeing the mess all over your pussy, panties stained with slick and cum. His mouth sucks at another spot, sighing through his nose.

The heel of his palm keeps bumping against your clit, oh so sensitive, making your hips buck into the feeling. Huffing out a whiny moan, tossing your head to the side, the cold washcloth starts to slip off your head. Arching up, your legs squirm, “Charlie-! Feels- oh-”

You’re just adorable when you moan like that, writhing under his touches. He gives another groan. He wants to hear more, he’s addicted to your little whimpers and whines. “You gonna cum?”

His fingers pick up the pace a little, in and out, curling, massaging that spot whilst grinding the heel of his palm over your sticky clit. Your thighs clench together before spreading again, eyes rolling into the back of your skull with a soft cry, “Yeah- mhmm!”

“Shh,” he soothes softly, using the pressure of his forearm to try and ease you flat to the bed, halting your writhing. His head rests against your shoulder, watching, feeling. He’s never going to stop being addicted. Addicted to your body, your moans, your soft skin, your sweet pussy.

“Almost there, aren’t you?”

A few more bumps with his palm against your clit and you’re crying, real tears dripping down your temples into your hairline. Tilting your face towards him, gasping, nodding with a whiny noise. “Ye-ah! Yeah, g’na.. Charlie..” You’re pawing at his arm with both hands, leaving little red marks from your nails, watery eyes looking into his.

He’s so, so close to seeing you fall apart. The way your body responds to everything he does drives him mad, your back arching, head tilting. He loves the way your moans get higher and whinier, sweet noises until you’re sobbing.

“That’s my sweet girl,” he groans, grinning, nodding his head as he presses his palm down onto your clit more, fingers massaging that sweet spot in you. “You’re allowed to let go.”

You’re right there, so close, muscles tensing as the coil wounds up tighter and tiger, “Charlie- Charlie.. ‘m.. mmm! Can- please can I-“ You can’t even properly string words together, pleading.

Oh, he knows just what to do. He kisses the side of your mouth, giving you permission. “Cum for me, love,” he whispers hotly, almost gasping himself, “can’t you feel how close you are to the edge? You’re right there. Let go and I’ll catch you.”

You crumble into tears, crying out as a powerful orgasm crashes over you. Clenching tightly on his two fingers, being fucked through it slowly, he coos. Your legs writhe around, little moans escaping you as you pant. Your heart hammers in your chest, whimpering out little babbles that sound like his name. He just lives for the sound of your moans, continuing his movements albeit a bit slower, fingers soaked in your cum. He’s grinning against your ear, eager to hear more cries and sniffles from you.

Your hands are quickly grabbing at his wrist, hiking up your skirt further and you whimper and whine, “Charlie! Charlie, Charlie-” Your hips wriggle around and the pleasure turns into oversensitivity, aftershocks rolling through you like thunder.

Overstimulation gives him such a high, knowing it’s coming from the pleasure he’s inflicting. He gives a deep, pleased hum as you give another sweet cry, still rubbing against your swollen clit, wanting to hear his name again, “There we go.. ride it out.”

Charlie is relentless at you gasp and cry, nails scratching, leaving red marks in their wake. Whimpering again, you twist on your side towards him a little, legs like jelly. “Sto-ah! Stop, no more, sens-sensitive!”

He feels you struggle against his hand, humming lowly, “Mm mm..” His hand finally slows down more, fingers slipping from your hole and swiping up some cum. He presses a kiss to the side of your head, “So sweet and good for me. So good. Such a good girl.”

Panting hard, your thighs squeeze together, fabric of your panties sticky as you try to shield yourself from any more stimulation, whining. Charlie moans as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking your cum right off the digits. Hugging his bicep, you whimper, “Mm… hnng-..”

He groans at the taste of you, cleaning his fingers, “Sweetheart.. you taste amazing,” he mutters, giving you a little nuzzle against the side of your head, kissing your hair.

Whimpering softly again, your eyes flutter closed for a moment as you just breathe. Honestly.. your migraine feels better than it did before. You bring a hand up to wipe your tears, sniffling. He tugs you closer to his chest, a hand gently brushing hair from your eyes with the tenderest of touches, leaning down and kissing the salty tears away.

“Hey..” he murmurs, cooing, nuzzling down into the crook of your neck to press kisses to your skin, “You okay?”

“Mmm.. mhmm..” You nod, breathless, peeking down at him with lidded eyes, flushed, “Head.. feels better.” It comes out giggled, softly.

That’s what he was hoping to hear, elated. Always happy to hear his trick has done its job, he tilts up to kiss the tip of your nose, “See? That’s all y’needed, hmm?”

“Mhmm..” You’re giggling again, “‘m all sticky..” Your tone is complaining now, whiny.

Ah. Yeah. He should probably take care of that. He chuckles quietly, groaning as you nuzzle into his bare chest, “Poor girl.. let me clean you up. Can you lift your hips for me, love?”

“Mhmm.. yeah.” You’re all satisfied, sleepy, easily complying to his words.

Charlie nods, getting up on his knees and tugging your panties off your body. Tossed aside, his dark eyes greedily scan the mess of your pussy, shiny with cum and slick. There’s something so pleasing about seeing the mess left of you.

“So pretty like this, love.” He mutters, leaning down to suckle at a spot in your inner thigh.

“Charlie..” You’re whining again, a hand tangling into his damp hair. A thin layer of sweat coats your back and chest.

The way you whine in that sweet, sweet tone, hand in his hair, has him shuddering. His head dips lower, tongue sticking out and sliding over the mess he made of you, licking along the length of your pussy. He groans, eyes fluttering as his tongue flattens over your clit.

“Ah! Charlie!” You squeal, tightening the hold on his hair as your legs jerk and writhe around.

He groans again at the sound, the noise vibrating against you and making the overstimulation worse. His eyes fall shut as he continues, continuing to lick over your pussy, greedily taking in the mess of cum. His hands wrap under your thighs, holding onto the outsides of them to keep you still, as still as he can have you with how much you wriggle about.

You’re still fighting it though, whining. Your back arches and you’re sniffling, “Charlie- I can’t- can’t, feels so good!” The words are babbled, gasped.

That sweet voice. You just sound so cute with that breathy tone, your body squirming and writhing, twisting in the sheets. His tongue keeps flicking, teasing, tasting.

He knows he’s doing a good job with how you protest, knows he’s doing his job right. His hot tongue swipes over your clit, lips encapsulating as he suckles. You’re squealing out another cry, a heaved sob escaping you. You try to curl in on yourself, shaking, thighs pressing against his hold, trying to draw your knees up. “Charlie! I ca- mmm! I can’t, ‘m too sensitive- sensitive!”

He keeps his pace, fingertips digging into your plush skin, tongue swirling around your clit and flattening again, head bobbing up and down. The taste is just addictive. He finally pulls away for a moment, giving a breath of cool air against the swollen bud.

“Just a little more, love. You can do it, I know you can,” he dives back in, humming.

“Charlie,” You outright sob as his mouth meets your pussy again, slobbering all over and then licking the mess back up, sniffling and whining. Your hand leaves his hair, grabbing at the sheets beside you, sweat beading on your back as your eyes roll into your skull.

You sound so beautiful like this, he can’t get enough. So sweet, so soft and sensitive, all for him.

Your body twists onto your side, head burying into your pillow as you cry again. He manhandles your one leg up over his shoulder, hand finding your ass to keep you up. So good, so perfect. “Please,” he groans a little, mumbled against your clit between panting breaths, “love, c’mon..”

You actually hook one of your hands on the back of your thigh, as if trying to help keep yourself up to be tortured by his tongue. “Charlie! Fff- fingers, please!”

There we go. He pulls back enough to speak clearly, his other hand on your thigh reaching over to swipe his fingers over your clit, thumb rubbing down over your clenching hole, empty, desperate, “What do you need, honey?”

Twitching, you bring your face from the pillow and sniffle. “Fingers.. Please.. ‘nd your tongue again..” Your chest heaves with heavy breaths, skirt hiking up over your tummy, shirt twisted a bit from all your squirming.

You’re just so perfect, aren’t you? Crying out, babbling, begging for his touch. Such a pretty mess he’s left you. He grins, lips shiny with spit and cum. “Anything for my sweet girl,” he whispers, giving a chaste kiss to your clit, “how many fingers do you want?”

Whimpering, almost delirious. You never could handle multiple climaxes, especially not after so soon. “Mm.. mmmph.. two.. Please Charlie..”

Two? He couldn’t possibly say no to you. He gives another growly moan, head tilting to nip at your thigh as his hand slides from around your thigh, fingers already slick again as he rubs over your entrance. You’re throbbing, feeling your clit actually twitch with the stimulation, pussy clenching around nothing.

“You want my tongue again too?”

“Hnnng- both. Please.” You’re nodding eagerly, not even sure you can really handle it but you want it. Eyes lidded, unfocused, chest heaving with panting breaths.

“Pretty girl..” His fingers slide in, both at the same time, stretching you back out. You breathe deeply, gasping stuttered inhales, sniffling and whining. You want this so bad.. just one more.

“Mmmmph!”

Those fingers curl, finding that abused spot again, “So good.. perfect little girl..” His tongue darts out, giving little laps between his words before suckling on your clit again. “You’re doing so good, honey, that’s my good girl.”

You’re all sweaty, whining high in your throat like a wounded puppy, trembling all over. “Please- hard- harder, faster.. wan’ it.” You beg. You want to be overwhelmed, to be forced to take it.

That whine. He could listen to it on loop for hours. His tongue pulls away, leaving just his fingers fucking into you, pumping in and out harder, a bit quicker. “Is this what you want, doll?”

You’re squealing another cry, shaking all over as you muffle your noises into the pillow, hips grinding down into the touch, “Yes! Oh my God yes.”

He’s never seen anything better than this. Groaning praise against your clit, he goes back to licking and sucking, making out with your pussy as he curls his fingers up. He could keep you like this all day if your pretty body wasn’t so sensitive, make you cum over and over and over.

Not even fifteen seconds pass by before you’re whimpering again, gasping, muscles tensing up, babbling, “Charlie- wait I- nngh! Feels- funny.” Oh good God, he can’t stop now.

You’re right on the edge, coil tightening further, and his fingers are relentless as they fuck into you faster, abusing that little spot.

“You’re nearly there, c’mon, give me it. Just take it honey.”

“No- I feel-!” You’re whining, choppy and panicked. His lips press harder, sucking on your clit like a damn lollipop, noises vibrating against you, making you gasp with a loud sobbing noise. Another orgasm rattles through you, ripping you apart as your release squirts out of you. Heaving a cried sob, your feet kick and your thighs squeeze his head.

He pulls his mouth away, eyes shining with lust as he actually laughs, watching as you gush around his fingers, clamping down like a vice on him, “Oh- oh,” this is new.

It’s a gorgeous sight, watching you lose control of your body. He crawls up over you before you even notice, fingers suck clean as his non wet hand to smooth your hair from your face, easing you onto your back again. You’re flushed with heat, whimpering, pawing at him for comfort from the intense orgasm. That was the first time you’ve squirted, ever.

You’re just so damn cute, all needy, pining for him, “Look at you, doll..” he whispers, kissing your forehead, “So good for me..” He tilts his head down, nose nudging into yours affectionately, “You’ve never done that for me before, huh?”

“Done.. wha’?” You mumble, panting, thighs feeling like lead as your lidded eyes look up at him.

He cups your jaw, smiling, pressing another kiss to your forehead, “Tchh.. don’t worry your pretty little head about it, sweetheart. Just rest, I bet you’re tired.”

It’s adorable, really, how breathless you are, dazed, cum drunk. He takes a moment to go to the bathroom and wash his hands, grabbing a towel and wetting it.

He’s got quite the mess to clean up. He strips your skirt and shirt off, discarding all dirty clothes into the hamper before wiping away the mess you’ve made, all over his chest and your own thighs, cum drooling from your hole. He slips from fresh panties up your legs, one of his own t-shirts on you as he lifts you up and puts you on the other side of the bed. The sheets can wait until morning.

You feel him behind you, cuddling you as you’re curled on your side. His lips plant a soft kiss to your shoulder, humming in content as he relaxes.

But he’s so fucking hard though. His cock has been leaking in his boxers since your tears begun, surprised he didn’t cum on the spot when you squirted. Your hand reaches back, pawing, palming over the obvious bulge.

Charlie’s breath catches, chuckling softly. He knows you’re tired, catching your wrist with his pulling it up to his lips to kiss against your knuckles, “C’mon now, sweetheart. You’re worn out.. don’t worry about me.”

You twist a little, peeking at him, eyes sleepy. “Mmm.. wan’ y’to feel good too..” You slide your hand right back down over him, giving his cock a squeeze over the fabric of his boxers.

Another huffed laugh, shaking his head even as his eyes flutter. “You always want to make me feel good, just get some rest, huh doll?”

“Please.. even if y’do it yourself..” You use the puppy eyes on him, eyes shiny.

God he can’t resist you. “You sure, love?” His hand slides over your forearm, thumb rubbing.

You’re pushing your ass back, twisting back to lay halfway on your front with a knee drawing up, “Mhmmm.. yes please.”

You giggle all drowsy and he can’t say no at all. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

His hips rolling forward, even through the fabric of your underwear he feels so good, grinding against your ass with a sigh. His hand leaves your arm as you turn back, finding the side of your thigh, pulling you back against him firmly. You’re humming out softly, content, leaning further back. You know just how to drive him crazy. He’s huffing, small noises as his brows furrow, wishing he could just take his cock out and slide inside you, but he won’t torture you anymore with pleasure.

“Please.. wan’ you to.. take what y’need..” You’re pleading so sweet, so considerate. You’re always so caring towards him in every way, how could he deny any request you have?

He groans into your hair, eyes closed, panting. “You’re too good to me, doll…” He presses his cock against you harder, as if some horny teenager humping his pillow, leg hooking over your stretched out one.

Your back is arching, aiding the process as he ruts against you. “Mmm.. love you..”

That tired whine, it’s too much. So endearing, so sweet, he can’t help but be so close to cumming already. He nuzzles into your hair, moaning low in his throat. It’s so unbelievably hot, the fact that you’re just about asleep as he grinds against your plump ass, hand grabbing at you. It feels so sinful, he sighs into your hair with a whiny tone, fingertips digging into your skin.

His cock throbs as he moves, stomach tensing, and then he hears you plead, “Please.. cum.”

He gives another groan, biting down at your shoulder as his hips jerk down harder, an orgasm flowing over him as he makes a mess in his boxers, huffing panting breaths. Even after cumming and squirting, a dull throb of arousal floods your senses with the noises he makes.

He comes down easily, satisfied, kissing at the side of your neck as a thank you, “You’re perfect, love.” His hand roams over your bare thigh, massaging lightly. A breathless giggle leaves you, so sleepy, ready for a nap. You don’t even notice he leaves the bed to change, grumbling about the mess before climbing back in behind you, because you’re already asleep.

—

Hours later, the clock reads 12:14AM as you stir awake. Charlie’s arm is draped over you, cuddled into your back. He mumbles something quiet with your movement as you peek back at him, sleepy, bedtime now ruined from the nap you both took.

You turn around in his arms, facing him, admiring his handsome features. The scar on his forehead is prominent, from some accident whilst working that he didn’t detail on. His hair is swept back, soft, clean. Your hand nudges a little, leaning him onto his back, checking that he’s still asleep.

He is, laid back in the dim light of the streetlight outside the window. Still out cold, he breathes in deep. You sit up on your knees and then stretch your arms above your head, hearing something crack in your upper back with a sigh. There’s a soreness in your legs, a reminder of what happened earlier. Tucking hair behind your ears, you lean down and kiss at his stomach lightly, one hand finding his hip.

Charlie gives a sleepy grumble, though he stays dozed off. Even just having a reaction from him this way makes heat curl into your gut. You kiss down lower, finding the waistband of his boxers. You fear it might wake him up if you tug them off his legs, so your hand finds the opening in them and tug his cock out, kissing open mouthed at his navel.

His cock twitches, breath stuttering slightly as your fingers curl around his shaft, massaging lightly to get him hard. It doesn’t take much, his body responds so well just as yours does to his. You let spit drip from your mouth, slicking his cock up as your hands squeezes and moves up and down, slow. Your lips find his bare thigh, kissing and suckling to leave a mark. You want to take your time, careful to try and not wake him up right away.

His cock throbs against your hand, hardening rapidly with the slow touches. It’s obvious he’s starting to get worked up, shifting against the sheets a little, head turning to one side. You move up now, tongue lolling out to lick at the underside of his cock before sinking your mouth down, suckling at him.

Now he’s definitely squirming, hips shifting as he sighs in his sleep, “Hnnng..” he moans, eyes fluttering as his arm moves up by his head. Sucking slow, up and down halfway, you whine a little yourself just at the feeling. You force yourself down as far as you can go without gagging, tongue flat on his underside. Spit drools down to his balls, aiding the way as you suck him off.

He groans, rousing from sleep, tilting his head back against the pillows. His hand comes up to your head, no pressure, just tangling through your hair lightly, petting you.

You hum at the touch, the sound vibrating down his cock, senses fuzzy. You suckle at the head, making a mess of spit as you sink back down again, managing about halfway. You’re flushed with heat, knelt between his legs, back arched and ass high in the air.

“Swe-.. sweetheart.” He groans out, clutching harder at your hair. “Doll… mm- ah-” His voice cuts off as you sink down further, arching up into the touch as his thighs part a little. There’s a soft whine in his throat, barely coherent. “So good..”

Even though you should be absolutely exhausted from the orgasms he pulled from you hours prior, the noises he makes sends arousal shooting up your spine. Sucking harder, you relax your jaw with a whine, eyes fluttering. He’s groaning again, breath coming faster as you work over his cock, all messy and eager.

“Hey..” he rasps, gasping, “Slow down, love.. feels good..”

Obedient, you listen to what he says, slowing down your pace and relaxing some. Hair falls in your face, one hand tucking it back behind your ear, whining softly, noise muffled. You pant through your nose as you push down.. down… down.

The pace is torturously slow, but just the act of you listening to him has him shuddering. His hand tightens in your hair, gasping as he tilts his head down some to look at you. He gives a light tug on your hair, “Hnng- look at me,”

Obeying again, eyes watery from the intrusion near your throat, you peek up at him through your lashes. You gag with a little whimper, drool dripping from your mouth, hands clenching on his hips.

Seeing those pretty eyes looking up at him, it’s enough to force a moan out of him again. You whine again as you force yourself to endure the intrusion, He whines softly, brows furrowing up as color blooms over his cheekbones, breath hitching, “Look at- mm, y’don’t need to push.. that far love.”

You’re ignoring him though, determined, eyes fluttering as you go lower, slowly. Spit dribbles down his cock, wetting the fabric of his boxers. Another nudge as your nose is pressed into the fabric of his underwear, exhaling with a muffled, sighed whine, looking up at him again.

“Ah-” He gasps, body arching as he shifts against the bed. “Sweetheart..” His tone is thick with sleep, heavy with lust, “Please, need you up here.”

Whining, your expression turns as if you were the one being pleasured. You don’t want to stop though, you wanna keep going, make him feel good, protesting softly as your hands flatten on his hips, suckling again as you gag.

He groans again, eyes rolling back as he huffs, “God.. doll.. I need you.” He grabs your hair tighter, giving a slight tug, “Up.”

A whimper escapes you, roots being pulled at and being forced off his cock. You’re so desperate though, tongue laving over his length before you’re pulled away, a thin line of drool hung from your tongue. Hair being held like a cat grabbed by their scruff, lips parted to pant hoarsely.

He sits up with a slight groan, tugging you up as you crawl over his body. His lips crash against yours in a searing kiss, fingers tight in your hair as his tongue licks over yours. Whining a moan, the kiss deep and desperate, heated as you even struggle to kiss back properly, all messy with drool, throat hoarse.

The sound you make against his mouth has a shudder running up his spine, moaning himself as he other hand finds your thigh, tugging you up onto his lap. His hand urges you down, grinding against his exposed cock. Your own arousal surprises you, not realizing sucking him off turned you on that much even though it happens just about everytime. That same hand slips between your thighs, hooking into the front of your panties and tugging them to the side, bare pussy grinding on his cock.

You whine another noise, whimpering, “Charlie-!”

The sound of his name on your lips is damn near obscene. “Yes-.. yes,” he whines against you, hand trembling almost as he grabs the base of his cock, grinding up and pressing in finally.

So full, his cock reaches deep, stretches you out with the slightest burn. Whimpering his name again, you nearly fall forward. Another whine comes out of him, hand slipping from your hair to the base of your neck, teeth grazing your jaw.

Both hands now find themselves moving up under your-his shirt, grabbing at your tits as he lays back in bed again, grunting with the effort, “That’s it.. take it.”

You can feel the heat on your face, traveling over your ears and down your neck, hands on his chest for stability as he gropes at your body. Trying to lift up onto your knees proves too much for your sore thighs, dropping back down and opting for grinding back and forth with a whimpered noise. “Nnmgh! Ff-”

Charlie’s own breathing hitches, thumb flicking over one of your hardening nipples as he grins, “Mhmm.. there y’go, take it.”

The gentle praise has you whining, panting, rolling your hips down even if it hurts your overworked legs. His name falls from your lips again, his own breathing labored, “So pretty.. my sweet girl..”

“‘m .. sensitive.. please,” You don’t even know what you’re pleading for, hands flat on his chest, trying to roll forward.

“Shh..” His hands slip down to your thighs, rubbing over them and squeezing the flesh there, “S’okay, let me help.” His fingers dig in, rolling you forward with his own strength.

He’s forcing you to fuck down on him, your eyes falling shut as he jerks his hips up, “Charlie-!” Your knees dig into the bed, stomach tensing up.

“Easy..” He soothes, his own breath shaky. “Don’t push so hard, you’ll wear yourself out doll.”

He moves his hips up and knocks into just the right spot, making you whimper as your arms shake. Knees spreading a bit more, pressing into the bed, “‘m sore.. please help..”

The one little whiny moan of yours has a groan escaping him, breath hitching as he swallows. “You want something, sweetheart? Tell me.”

He rocks up again, knees bending, fingers pressing into your hips with a breathless laugh, “Yeah.. like that.”

“Mhm!” You’re nodding, muscles tensing as you keep yourself up on your knees so he can fuck up into you. A pathetic noise falls from your lips.

“Mine. My pretty girl..” he whispers, panting. He pushes up the hem of the shirt you wear, tossing the fabric aside. You drop to your elbows on either side of his head, whining in his face, gasping for air as his hips move.

“Mm- love when you make those sweet little noises..” His hands pull you up a little, tongue laving over one of your nipples, suckling. You can feel him twitch inside you, grinding up slow.

Whining again, oh so whiny, your hand cards through his hair and holds on tightly, “Mm! Fast-.. faster. Please Charlie.” You plead so nicely for him, skin heated.

He growls out a moan again, “Yes ma’am..” he mutters, before starting to move in earnest now, fucking up into you hard. It pulls a wounded cry from your throat, gasping for air as his lips move up to your neck. You’re getting the life fucked out of you, barely able to keep your eyes open as they roll back, watering, little uh uh uh’s being fucked out of you.

“Fuu-.. ah..” It’s his turn to whine now, breathing labored as he thrusts up into you. His mouth latches under your jaw, sucking a mark into the pretty skin, moaning, “Mmmph.. doll.”

He’s literally using you like a damn toy, gutteral groans of your name as he holds your hips still, fucking into you. The pace becomes messy and quick instantly, lips wandering to your shoulder.

“Charlie!” You cry again, gasping, desperate for air in your lungs. “I’m- ‘m g’na.. oh my God!” Your back arches further, twitching, right on the edge.

“I know.. I know,” he practically whines, panting as he moves. He can hear the slick noise of your pussy sucking him in, drooling down his cock and balls, making a mess of his boxers. “That’s my girl-.. come on..”

A loud cry is muffled against his neck, writhing around, hands grabbing at the pillow under his head, almost smacking against them. Eyes rolling back, you’re overwhelmed with pleasure as you orgasm, jolting ontop of him with your toes curling. “Oh- Charlie! Oh my- oh my Goood-”

He gives his own groan, just the sound of your whines, the feeling of you clamping down on his cock has him ready to cum, fucking up fast. “There you go.. c’mon..” His hands find the small of your back, wrapping around you, holding you close, “Ah-.. where do you-.. love?” He asks, desperate.

You don’t even think, “In.” you sob, “please, Charlie, wan’ it.” Oversensitivity settles in fast, shaking uncontrollably ontop of him, feeling like you’re being shocked with a fucking taser.

That does it for him. He swears he sees stars as he cums, grinding up hard and slow as it spurts inside you, growling a moan. You can feel him throbbing, trembling, held flush to his body. Whimpering, a less powerful orgasm crashes over you, legs shaking as your feet kick down onto the bed, “Charlie!”

A breathless groan leaves his lips, panting, “Fuu-ck.. you feel-” he can’t even finish his words, gasping.

He works you both through your orgasms, you swear you might black out for a moment, whimpering pathetically ontop of him. He gives a little hiss as your hips jolt up off of him, cum drooling out of your hole. “Shh shh.. easy,” his hands rub over your sides, up your back.

Flopping onto his front fully, legs stretching out along his, you whine. Four fucking orgasms within.. how many hours? Honestly a miracle. “Mmm… mmm.”

“Just lay still..” he murmurs, breathless as he strokes over your clammy skin. He turns his head and presses a kiss to your temple, another on your forehead. “Jesus.. think four’s your limit for the night, sweetheart.”

“Mmmmph..” Your lips part to pant, eyes closed, limp onto of his body besides your involuntarily shaking, “New record..” You giggle. Usually you can handle two with.. several hours of recovery between.

He gives a huff of a low laugh, chest heaving. “Yeah.. new record alright.” He sighs out a content noise, humming, “God.. what time is it, love?”

Tilting your head to look at the clock on the wall above your little bookshelf, you hum, “12:30.. guess we shouldn’t have napped.”

“God,” he chuckles, “guess not.” His hands wander down, rubbing over your ass, “You wanna get cleaned up, love?”

“I don’t think I can move.” You mumble, fatigued, worn the fuck out after all that. You legs feel like wet noodles, heart just now beginning to calm down to a normal place.

“Yeah.. thought as much.” He chuckles again, kissing your head once more, “Stay put.” He eases you off of him, getting up from the bed as he tugs his boxers off, using the fabric to roll it up and wipe himself off. “Want anything from the kitchen?”

“Mmmm..” you roll onto your back, stretching out, back arching as you press your knees together. “Water.. couple muffins.” You grin, hands wiping at the drying tears on your face.

Whilst he’s gone, you somehow manage to wobble to the bathroom, cleaning up and using the restroom before crawling right back into bed on the clean side.

He returns a few moments later, carrying a big glass of ice water, three strawberry cheesecake muffins on a little plate, clean t-shirt over his arm and fresh boxers on his body. Must have stopped in the laundry room. ”Sit up.”

Obeying, you sit up against the pillows, reaching out as he gives you the glass. Gulping down a third of it, you set it aside as he slips the shirt over your body, soft and clean. He sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out and cradling your cheek, “There you go.”

You lean into his touch, grinning lazily, skin flush with a pretty glow, “Hi..”

“Hi..” He repeats back, chuckling with a smile. He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, to your nose, then lips, “How’re y’feeling?”

Accepting the affection and kisses, smiling like a happy puppy. “Mm.. ‘m okay.. I love you.”

He grins back, after a few more kisses he pulls back, “I love you, doll.”

Muffin in hand now, you narrow his eyes as he smirks mischievously, “What?”

“Oh, nothin’..” He shakes his head, shrugging as he takes the glass of water and takes some drinks of it. “Just thought a hot bath could be nice..”

That does sound so good, some fresh bedding and a hot bubble bath, maybe a movie after. But you hear the tone in his voice and whine around the bite in your mouth, “Charlie I cannot go again, I think I’ll faint.”

He barks a chuckle at that, reaching an arm around you, “Oh love, I know. I swear, we’d just soak.”

“Mmm.. movie after?”

“Mhm. We’ve got the whole weekend to relax too,” that makes you perk up, peeking up at him.

“Y’don’t have to work?” You mumble hopefully, tilting your head.

“No,” Charlie smiles, shaking his head, “Off call the rest of the weekend. Don’t suppose ya have any ideas for how we could spend that time, do you?” He raises a brow playfully, rubbing your bare thigh.

Swallowing the muffin bite in your mouth, savoring the sweet flavor, you seem to think. A silly little smile forms on your lips, giggling.

“We could try and break your record next.”

———————♡

[lalablue0]

Freaking bots. Shoo! Go away!

[superalexkatlanddd]

I'm now getting like, 5+ bot followers a day.

Am I tumblr famous now? :o

[iloveyoumorethansoup]

I did love streaming when I did (though god is masking exhausting) but I’ve been so busy that I haven’t streamed in Months. The thing that would bring me back though is in fact Potion Permit. I started my save on stream and it feels wrong to not stream that save so I just haven’t played. And I really really loved that game (still waiting for Helene dating option) so like who knows I may very well pick up streaming for the tail end of the semester

[cixteenyne]

I didn't know you were back! Welcome!

One question, will you ever follow that My Hero Academia guys series?

Please don't leave again, your writing is incredible!

Monday - Izukus’ Alone Time..

heyyy ahaaa what the flip guys it’s been a while and yes I’m back and I’ll try not to leave!! Idk I sleep a lot so I just don’t be doin shit. ANYWAYSSS onto the warnings girlypopss

(Warning(s): Vulgar language, Smut- Duh. Fem aligned, Sleepy Sex. Tired Izu. Kind of somno if you go up your ass and around the corner but that’s just what I heard

You can find Sunday here! Enjoy!

Izuku is energetic. That’s no secret, always so eager to overdo it and prove himself. That can take a toll on anyone, overdoing it that much. Especially on a Monday of all days.

Sometimes you’d see him walking through the door, exhausted, sweat covering him like it belonged there. Maybe it did.

His eyes usually so wide in the morning, worn and half lidded with little energy, yet every drop of accomplishment by sundown. The warm mixed colors giving them a shine that just makes them seem brighter.

You really could relate to him, after Shotou and Katsuki ran you dry the other day, you didn’t look nearly as bad as Izuku after a particularly long training day, but you sure felt like it, just a little more happy about it. You’d jump at a chance to do it again.

Not to say izuku didn’t enjoy the time he spent getting stronger to protect those he loves, to protect you and the others.

It was his lifestyle and he loved every bit of the life he was lucky enough to live.

So to say he was more pent up than usual with this new sudden change of training schedule, would be an understatement.

He kept his eyes on the screen. The only source of light being the soft glow it gave off onto his own view. Well, he tried to keep his eyes open and on the screen, but it really was difficult. A warm shower will do that to you.

The couch sinking pulled his head from sleep, turning his attention and what was left of it- to the person.

To you. Oh, warm you. You who were so sweet as to usher him from the door, and treat his wounds with what little first aid you knew. Which wasn’t much, but it did help. Honest. Sure saved his ass a visit and a scolding from Recovery Girl.

“Izuku? You can sleep y’know? I can see your eyes closing..”

So perceptive. Though it didn’t take a genius to figure that out. He just looked at you. Just looking. And leaning.

Leaning?

Izuku couldn’t help scooching closer to your warmth. He was a little more awake now, but he was still so sluggish. Wrapping his body around you with everything he had, which was much more than you were expecting. Falling onto you with little grace.

He keeps his head in the crook of your neck, his lips moving against it, but not quite doing anything. A kiss here, just barely there. A ghost of his warm breath. He was tired- really, but he wouldn’t pass you up.

His hands wandering and searching everywhere you let him. Tugging that down, moving this to the side. Pushing this up. Opening his mouth and laying it on whatever he could.

He took particular interest in your breasts, pushing your shirt up and sliding his tongue on them, closing his lips around them.

Closing his eyes and indulging in whatever he could take. Your moans and keens were perfect, they were going to put him to sleep, really. He needed more.

He pulled off you, holding himself up suddenly.

“m’sorry baby.. izu’s sorry.. ‘k doll? He’s sorry”

Pushing you legs apart with his own, he puts his chest to yours, laying down with a huff of relaxation. Kept mumbling various “m’sorry”s and how ‘izu’s so tired.’

Though he seems pretty eager in the way he fished his cock out of his plaid pants and pushed your panties wherever they wouldn’t be in the way. He terrible of him, doing this so late at night! He must be thinking that.

His mumbling is still on, but basically unintelligible as he whines and pushes himself in. Thrusting shallowly into you.

The couches’ leather crunches underneath you both as his thrusts meet full. Still just as slow.

His whole body basically covering you. deliberately, you think. And he can’t shut up for the life of him, his mumbling mixed with his moans and pleas that you hear mixed in make your pussy tighten.

His cock hits deep and drags right back out. His sleep worn state slugging his motions.

“P..please, fuck…- please. Please. M’sorry, j’s so tired baby..”

He whined out every word. Izuku may say he’s sorry, but he knows damn well he isn’t.

He knows.

“Zu’s gonna make it- fuck..! Make it.. all up.. to you.”

Just rambling and mumbling and whines mixed with drool and drowsiness.

He’s just so tired. And he wants you.

You can feel his cock twitch inside of you, the movement of his hips becoming snappy. Jerky and even more uncoordinated. Whining and heaving about how he’s gonna cum.

“Gonna cum. G-! Ah..! Gonna.. c-uh!”

His hips stutter as string, after rope, of too warm seed slips from his tip. He whines as he empties himself into you. So needy he is, he’s always so whiney when he’s tired. More greedy. Even someone like him can be greedy. So cute.

With no grace and all exhaustion, he drops himself. All of his weight and mass onto you. Without warning, making you huff at the impact. He doesn’t bother to pull out.

You look down at him, his head in your neck. His forest of dark green hair right in your face.

“Y’feel better?”

A question the barely conscious Izu can’t answer. Well, sorta.

“Mm..” it was all he could offer.

Good enough.

(Ahaaa hey bbg don’t steal my stuffsss ofc u can reblog coochie cakes)

[pandoraslxna]

Helping hands

Colonel Miles Quaritch x female human scientist reader

Words: 4.3k

Summary: Quaritch has to escort one of the most annoying scientists he’s ever met, into the depth of pandoras forest, just so she can study some weird looking plants. Surely, it couldn’t get worse than that, right?

Warnings: explicit smut, sex pollen, size kink, they actually hate each other soo kinda workplace-enemies to 'lovers', teasing, tension, age difference (reader is in her mid twenties), fingering, begging, degradation kink, spanking (once), squirting, authority kink

Notes: okay so I basically wrote this for myself because I’m very h word right now but you can read it too I guess lol enjoy

For someone your size and given the position you were in, you really had a damn smart mouth.

It’s been only a little over three days since Quaritch was assigned to accompany the scientific team to their silly little trip into the jungle. Guess that's what you get if you were the head of security in your previous life. And it wasn’t really a team either– It was just you, little smart ass. Whatever dick you must’ve sucked to even get permission for such a trip, he wasn't thrilled that he was the lucky one assigned to be your escort.

Quaritch definitely doesn’t believe in shit like that, but if karma exists, you were probably his.

It’s only been three days, but you were determined to make every second of his stay the worst of his life. Oh you could argue, talk back and insult him like a bratty teenager, that was for sure. Quaritch definitely popped a few painkillers behind your back, trying to ease the growing ache that was pounding in his head, all thanks to you.

He partly blamed your age for all the attitude you had. Damn youth these days couldn’t even pay a little respect. He was the Colonel, for fucks sake! How did you even get this job? For a scientist with a doctor title, you sure were young. Probably in your mid twenties or something, not that he cared enough to just ask.

Unfortunately, there was nothing else he could do except follow you around all day, as this was a sit and wait situation. You were here to get some stupid samples from whatever plants you could find this deep in the forest and he was there to make sure you don’t get lost or killed in the process. Even if he secretly prayed for that to happen…

Your exopack hummed to the rhythm of your breathing as you carefully scrape the small, thorny mushroom-like plant from a moss covered tree. It’s been over twenty minutes of you going back and forth with that tiny scalpel, careful as ever to not hurt yourself or, most likely, to not 'hurt' the plant. This was ridiculous.

With one hand on his gun holster and the other flicking his knife impatiently, Quaritch watches you do your thing. He was this close to shoving you aside and cut the damn thing off himself.

Looking over your shoulder, you glare at him for a moment after he had exhaled yet another a melodramatic sigh to let you know that he was annoyed, before you continued your work, completely unhurriedly. Now it felt like you were working purposefully slow, as if you were just trying to taunt a reaction from him. Oh he would give you a reaction, he thought, clenching and unclenching his jaw.

"C‘mon cupcake hurry it up", he growls, "it’s not a open heart surgery, it’s a fucking mushroom."

"Do you ever shut up, Colonel?", you mumble under your breathe, wiping the sweat from your temple. This damn heat made it almost impossible to talk back the way you would normally do– thank god. Quaritch on the other hand, had only so much patience left in him. The air was too humid and he was too tired to stand here any longer and watch you cut around that mushroom like you were getting paid by the hour. His grip on your shoulder startles you, as he attempts to shove you away and get the job done himself. Much to his displeasure, you resist him and as you try to swat his hand away, you stumble forward. Luckily, you catch yourself just in time, with both hands flat against the tree.

"Ouch, shit", you wince at the shooting pain in your palm, quickly retreating your hand to inspect it. There’s something in your hand, barely above the size of a big splinter. Nothing serious. You had just stung yourself on one of these thorns that were littered among the mushroom covered tree. God, he knew you would be so insufferable about this now…

With an annoyed glare, Quaritch watches how you remove the thorn from your skin and once it’s gone, you clutch your hand tight against your chest, eyes squeezing shut, hissing and stomping your feet to the ground. He knew that your strange antics were probably to distract yourself from the burning pain in your hand, but to his eyes you looked like a tantrum throwing toddler. How suitable.

"If you’re going to cry now, I’m gonna shoot myself", comes from next to you. The Colonel snickers by the sight of you and for a second, you shoot him a glare as if you actually debated to kick him in the balls or something. It’s probably best that you decide against it, only mumbling a feisty, "Don’t tempt me."

Still, it would’ve been fun to see you try. Maybe that would’ve been enough of a reason to put you in cuffs and bring you back to bridgehead city, end his mission earlier and hopefully he would never see you again.

Looking down at your palm, you frown. It’s not bleeding much, nothing more than a few crimson droplets that had already began to dry out. But it itches and your hand feels hot and sweaty. Hopefully it wasn’t venomous, you thought.

"If that’s going to infect, I’ll make you pay for it, asshole!", you snap at him, to which Quaritch rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue.

"If you weren’t so clumsy—"

"If you weren’t so impatient—"

Back at the outpost laboratory, you were quieter than usual. Not that he was complaining. Quaritch brushed it off as you being tired and having all of your energy already spent on the hour long argument during the whole way back. It seemed like his theory was proven right when you instantly went to bed after taking the longest shower possible, probably using up all the hot water that was left and leaving him with the decision to just shower in the morning. On any other day, he would’ve thrown a bucket of the same cold water you left him to shower with right over your sleeping form. But he decided to just leave you alone, relishing in any moment you weren’t around or awake to get on his nerves. Another minute of you blaming him for todays events and he would pack his shit and walk all the way back to bridgehead.

After a quick report back to his superiors, Miles settled into his own quarters. Well, it was basically a storage room with a bed. Nothing big, barely a room if you could even call it that. There wasn’t even a door and if he craned his head enough, he could see the outline of your sleeping frame in the dark, on the other side of the lab. Of course he couldn’t expect anything fancy and comfortable out here in the forest. It was an outpost laboratory, meant for nothing more than a couple of days stay and not an holiday home.

Quaritch wasn’t exactly a heavy sleeper.

Not back then, when he was still a human and not now. But what wakes him this time, in the middle of the night, is not the snoring of a room neighbor or his alarm set too early, but the slight pressure of someone straddling and sitting down on his stomach.

Immediately, his senses are on high alert. Eyes flying open and hands gripping either side of whoever was insane enough to pull some shit like that. It’s dark and even with the eyesight of a young Na‘vi, it takes his eyes a moment to adjust. His hands feel before his eyes can see. Your hips are soft, warm, almost burning under his touch. He feels you move and his grip tightens. "What the fuck are you doing, kid?", his voice is rough, raspy and laced with sleep.

But then his eyes take in the first sight of you. You’re naked, completely bare like the day you were born, straddling his waist and… were you crying? Your cheeks are red, streaks of tears still visible on your face, with your lips all swollen and red, like you’ve been nervously chewing on them.

"It’s the… the plant", you hiccup quietly, "It’s the plant, fuck, i can’t- can’t take it anymore! Please—"

"Woah, hey easy there cupcake. Deep breaths."

Something was definitely wrong. Quaritch frowned at your desperate state, the trembling of your distressed voice giving him a feeling of uneasiness. That is, until it dawned on him— you were naked. You were naked, straddling him, with your cunt pressed snugly against his stomach. The realization made him swallow thickly.

"Please, please I need– need…", you struggled to vocalize your needs that had already become very obvious to the Colonel. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to hear you say it out loud. He wanted you to use that mouth, that he thought was only good for talking back, being disrespectful and complaining, and tell him exactly what you wanted.

"Need what?", he teases you, a smug grin spreading over his features as you huff out a breathe of frustration.

Despite the firm grip he had on your hips, you still manage to move them, catching him a little off guard. You grind yourself on his stomach, the hard muscles of his abs only adding further to the stimulation on your clit and you whine. Quaritch feels a good amount of slickness leak out of you, covering his skin where you glide over it and he snickers, "What’s got you so hot and bothered all of the sudden, hm? Almost didn’t recognize you, without that usual bratty attitude."

You felt hot, he remarked. Feverish, clinging to him weakly as nearly unbearable heat pooled in your core, liquid arousal covering the insides of your thighs and smearing over his stomach where you were sitting on him. Quaritch would never admit it out loud, but he felt pity for you. Poor little thing, so needy, so wet and wanton…

"I just told you", you pant heavily, still grinding yourself on his stomach as you spoke, "it’s because of that…that stupid plant. All because of you, you fucking—"

"Ah-ah, no need to be mean now", he chuckles. The grip he has on your hips tightens again, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to make you hiss. "No idea how that shit works, but i think you should probably go and take care of that little problem yourself."

And with that, Quaritch tries to peel you off of him, but you cling to him even tighter, hands clawing at his arms while you shook your head, frantically wriggling against him, arching your back and pleading for him to hear you out.

"Please I… I tried to, but it’s not helping. I’m– I need you, okay? Please just, just do something!"

If he would’ve actually used just one percent of his strength, he would’ve easily lifted you up and sat you down to your feet. But he doesn’t. There was just something in your voice, in the way you were begging for him, that made it almost impossible to sent you off.

"Oh you need me, huh? Is that so?", the Colonel chuckled, the deep rumble in his chest vibrating against your palms where you held yourself up. You nodded quickly, sniffling and blinking away the tears that had formed as you were begging for him to help you.

It seemed like your body had a mind of its own, because not for a second did you stop grinding yourself against his stomach. Your toes curl into the soles of your feet and you moan whenever your throbbing clit bumps against his muscles. Quaritchs stomach was coated in your slickness where you humped his abs and a groan rumbled deep in his chest.

"So fucking desperate", he teases, his eyes scanning over your body so shamelessly that it made you squirm, "look at that, cute little pussy‘s dripping all over me."

You whimper softly, the tips of your ears burning with an intense heat as you stare up at the Colonel through lidded eyes. His words are humiliating and they sent your stomach bunching into a tight knot, nerves tingling like a live wire. Just a few hours ago you would’ve killed him for this. But you were already too far gone to care about your dignity.

You felt small sitting on him like that, dwarfed by his much larger stature as you struggled to stay seated. You could feel the heat pooling rapidly in the pit of your stomach, heart beating hard against your ribs and pounding loudly in your ears as your breaths come out in short, rough pants. Your pussy clenches around nothing and it drives you insane. It hurts.

You experiment with different paces and pressures, trying to figure out the best way to get yourself off like this, but none of it works. You could grind yourself against him all you wanted— you needed something to fill you.

You take a deep, shuddering breath, tongue darting over your dry lips as you swallow around the lump in your throat.

"Colonel, Sir", you wail, voice turning into a whine laced with tiny hiccups, "It’s, fuck, it’s not enough… It hurts so bad, I want– need more."

"Oh look who’s begging so sweet, even calling me sir now. And all that just because you want to get your little hole stuffed? How cute."

Your hands attempted to touch him, to feel him, to move— anything, so you reach behind yourself to grab his cock. He’s hard as a rock beneath his boxer briefs, your thumb brushing over a little wet patch that had formed on the thin fabric and you physically shudder when you feel his length up and down. He was big, so fucking big that it made your mouth water, mind going blank by the sheer thought of taking his whole size and getting fucked dumb on it.

"Yes, yes please fuck me, please sir", you begged him. Your breath hitched as you continued to move back and forth on his stomach, setting a rhythm that you hoped would ease the burning heat in your core for just a moment. Of course it didn’t.

"See, that’s much more how I prefer you, begging like the needy little slut that you are", Quaritch told you grinning. The grip he had on your hips begins to loosen the more you move, his hands slowly guiding you, setting a new pace for you, until he’s in complete control of your movements. He moves your body along to the rhythm that you desire and your face twists with pleasure as you moan with complete abandon, while your wet pussy slides across his abs.

Behind your back, your hands fumble with his boxer briefs, ready to pull them down to take what you were yearning for, but before you could do so, Quaritch makes your hips come to an abrupt halt. You whine at the loss of friction and just as your about to reach for his cock again, one of his hands snaps to your wrist, stopping you.

You were powerless, putty in his hands and the Colonel clicks his tongue, voice deep and thick as he tells you, "Yeah, no, that’s not gonna happen."

You pause.

With your eyes widening at his words, chest heaving from the way you tried to calm yourself, you gasp, "What? why?"

"Because it‘s not gonna fit, cupcake", he chuckles and the sound alone is enough to make you physically shiver, "In case you haven’t noticed, I might be a little too big for such a small thing like you."

A whine of complain bubbles up your throat, but it’s quickly hushed when Quaritch pulls you forward until your face is shoved against his chest and you’re breathing in his rich scent. His hands had abandoned your hips by now, sliding over the arch of your spine and feeling the soft curve of you ass. Grabbing a handful of your cheeks, he kneads and spreads them apart, revealing your glistening wet folds to the chilly air of his room.

One of his hands then shift and you gasp, feeling his long, rough digits tease your slit. He groans right next to your ear, "So fucking wet, aren’t you? Your little hole is so desperate to get stuffed, can feel you clenching around nothing."

"T-Then fill it", you mumble quietly, the sound muffled against the muscular pecks of his chest.

He circles your weeping hole, taunting you, then plunges a lone finger inside and you moan a sigh of relief. It’s easy, oh so easy, for him to slip in. He thought it would be harder, given the fact that one of his fingers was equal to two or even three human ones. But you’re so wet that your pussy practically swallows him right in.

Unfortunately, it barely dampened the oppressive heat you were experiencing.

"This will have to do", Quaritch tells you with a stoic face and his ears pinned back, knowing damn well that this was not what you meant when you told him to fill you.

"More. I need more", you cry, wriggling in his hold to force more of his finger inside you, until the palm of his hand was flat against your pussy and the tip of his finger was teasing your cervix. "M’so empty. Need you to fuck me. Please, please, please", you beg like a broken record and he rolls his eyes.

"This or nothing, kid. You choose. I‘m not gonna rip you in two just because you’re too horny to think straight."

He tightens the grip on your ass, squeezing the plump flesh. His other hand begins to move, thrusting his finger in and out of you so painfully slow, it felt like your brain was overheating.

"Noo", you whine, "it’s not enough!" You squirm in his arms, your face shoved against his chest while you wriggle your butt in the air, desperate for him to do something, anything to make you feel better. You would take it, you knew you could handle it.

A sudden sting snaps you out of your little tantrum, feeling your tight hole getting stretched further as Quaritch forces a second finger inside you. You gasp, but instantly melt under his touch. You knew recoms were big, obviously. But two of Quaritchs fingers were equal to the size of a regular human cock and you became very much aware of that fact in this second.

"That enough for you, you spoiled girl?" He scoffs, shifting his hand so he could rub circles on your swollen clit with his thumb.

You could only hum and nod as he buries his fingers inside you up to his knuckles, curling them and feeling the rough calluses as he prods inside you in search of that sweet, special spot. When a loud moan lets him know he had found it, he begins to thrust his digits into you, setting a fast pace. His palm smacked against your wet folds, fingers creating loud squelching noises as he fucked you with them and the feeling of your juices running down his wrist actually had him grinning like the smug bastard that he was.

Quaritch was drinking up every sweet little moan and gasp he elicited out of you like this.

That’s what you were– sweet. Eye candy, sweet to touch and taste and feel. Sweet even in the way you cling to him, use him to relieve the affliction between your legs he accidentally caused. And if you weren’t such a bratty bitch all the time, he would’ve maybe done this sooner. It’s not like there was anything else to do out here. It could’ve been so much more fun, if it wasn’t for your smart mouth and the way you were getting on his last nerves all day and night. If only you would’ve behaved, just be a good girl for him, he could’ve used the past couple of days to stretch you out real nice, slowly get you ready to take his cock.

But no, instead you had to act like a sassy teenager and now he couldn’t give you what you so desperately wanted. You couldn’t take him, not even with the amount of slick pooling out of your sweet little pussy. Not that you deserved his cock anyways.

“Oh my god, don’t– don’t stop", you moan, cursing under your breath and he doesn’t. He fingers you in exactly the same way he would fuck you. Hard and fast and deep enough to feel so incredibly full of him.

"You’re almost there, cupcake. So close, aren’t you?", you hear him snicker, his chin coming to rest on top of your head, "You’re gonna cum on my fingers, yeah? Make a real mess on them."

You’re nodding frantically, chanting his name under your breath and it becomes higher in pitch the closer you get to your release. One of your moans gets caught in your throat when he uses his other hand to give your ass a firm spank.

"Oh fuck", you gasp, pussy beginning to pulse as your eyes roll back into your skull and he knows you’re close, so he makes it his mission to have you coming all over his stomach. Your legs begin to tremble when he pumps his fingers into you faster and you slowly become restless on top of him, trying to move away from his hands but at the same time moving back to get them deeper inside. Quaritch grabs your ankle to keep you still and then a third finger comes to tease your already sensitive hole.

"But you have to ask for permission first, alright?", Quaritch chuckles and your brows furrow, "Ask me real nice, maybe add a little 'sir' and I’ll make you cum so fucking good. How’s that sound, hm?"

Fuck him. Fuck him and his smug attitude and fuck this damn plant that caused all of this. And if you weren’t so close, if it didn’t feel so fucking good, if it didn’t ease the pain and the unbearable heat inside you– you would’ve told him that. It’s the last coherent thought your fucked out brain can produce before everything in your mind goes blank.

"Please, please, please can I cum? Fuck, can I cum, sir? Please I need to cum so bad", you sob into his chest. His chuckle vibrates against your cheek and you’re so close, you had no idea if you would even be able to hold it in, if he would’ve told you no. Thankfully, thank god or whoever was responsible for his next decision, he plunges a third finger inside you, stretching you out the absolute maximum of your physical abilities.

"C‘mon kid, that tight little pussy can’t take much more. Cum for me." Quaritch watches, eyes half-lidded, while your face mirrors your body, scrunching up and then sobbing with relief as endorphins drown your nerves. You mewl his name, moaning and cursing, your body sparkling with exhilaration.

He seizes the opportunity and wedges a hand between your spread legs, playing with your clit until you scream and a warm gush of your slickness drips all over his hands, flooding between your bodies and coating his stomach where you straddled him.

"There you go, there you fucking go", he groans and his words send an extra shudder down your spine. His fingers curl inside you just right, thrusting in and out for the final time and you bite on your tongue in order not to whimper, as you were on the verge of feeling overstimulated.

"Filthy girl, look at the mess you’ve made", the Colonel laughs when he finally pulls his digits out of your sopping cunt. You’re tempted to tell him to shut up and go fuck himself, but the second his hands leave, you can feel the feverish heat creep up your core once again, spreading all over your limbs and clouding your head in a thick fog.

Propping yourself up with your palms on his chest, you look at him with glossy eyes. Quaritch grins at you, with the pointy tips of his canine showing, as if he already knew what was going on inside you.

"Open up", he then tells you and a questioning look graces your flushed face. You blink at him a few times, before your gaze lands on his hand, hovering just inches from your face. It’s shining with your arousal and you blush deeply. Still, you don’t hesitate to open your mouth like he told you to, so he can push two his digits past your plump lips. The taste of your own cum floods your tongue, only adding further to the heat between your thighs as you suck on his index and middle finger.

The Colonel hums, his eyes fixed on your mouth, fingers prodding at your warm tongue, "You’re not feeling any better, aren’t you?" To which you draw your eyebrows together, looking up at him like a lost puppy and shake your head.

"Hmm, what could we do about that?" He tilts his head, fingers retreating from your mouth to let you speak. You watch him with wide eyes, as he pops them into his own mouth, licking them clean from any spit and cum.

Swallowing your dignity, or whatever was left of it, your gaze lands back on his eyes, big yellow orbs piercing right through your soul, eating you alive, as he looks at you like you were the most delicious meal on the planet. "Could you… could you help me out?", you mumble, cheeks turning into an even darker shade of red, "just one more time. Please, sir."

"I don’t think one more time is gonna be enough for such a needy little brat like you. But we can try", he chuckles darkly, "As long as you keep begging like that."

[straykeedz]

day 22: felix + dry humping

©straykeedz

tw: bff2l trope bc you know me; female anatomy; masturbation (m); ♡

wc: 3,2k;

this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡

🔖 : @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; @tooskathepiratefromshield ; ; ♡

to make sure i add you to the taglist, your age must be clearly visible on your profile. also, empty blogs will not be added - add at least a profile picture to your blog so that i’ll know you’re not a bot. ♡

smut below the cut, minors dni

⛺︎

“Never have I ever…” Minho starts, smirking slyly at you and you know what he’s about to say. That little fucker. “…had feelings for my best friend.”

What follows Minho’s words are a few seconds of pure, awkward silence, air so thick it could be cut with a knife. You’re sitting by the fire, tents already set up and a few empty bottles of beer and other kinds of liquor by your feet - however neither of you is too drunk to not understand what’s going on, Minho’s words still lingering in the air. 

Felix is shocked two times.

The first time is when he sees Jisung raise his glass, glance at Minho, and let out a heavy sigh as he brings it to his lips, swallowing the liquid in one go. The second time is when you raise your glass and bring it to your lips, taking a sip of the bitter liquid, scrunching your nose once you’re finished, avoiding Felix’s gaze at all costs. 

For a second there, he’s unable to think - mind going blank because, fuck, he’s your best friend. And Minho’s words… and you drinking… does this mean? Perhaps you… He should drink, too, let you know that he has feelings for you two, but he’s too late. 

“Never have I ever…” Seungmin starts, but Felix’s not paying attention to his friend’s words.

His eyes trail back and forth to you, and then to Jisung. You and his hyung are exchanging sad, sympathetic smiles and all he wants to do is tell you that you’ve got it all wrong - that he reciprocates your feelings and he’s just a stupid coward who hasn’t got the balls to confess to you. On the other hand, Minho doesn’t seem to have understood what happened between you and Jisung, at least not until Chan elbows him and whispers something in his ear. Then, Minho’s expression matches Felix’s - shocked, speechless, confused, guilty. 

Then, after a few more turns playing the stupid game, Felix sees you standing up, your figure hidden by the oversized sweater you’re wearing - sleeves too long he can’t see your hands, but he just knows you’re fidgeting with your rings or picking at your skin or fingernails, that’s something you always do when you’re feeling uncomfortable. He wishes he could take your hands in his, run his thumb over your knuckles to get you to relax. He wishes he could find the courage in himself to tell you, tell you how he feels towards you. 

“I’m going inside, feel tired.”, you announce, and Felix can tell by the tone of your voice that you’re not really tired, that there’s something on your mind, that you’re preoccupied. “Goodnight guys.”

He should come with you - he shouldn’t miss the chance to confront you about what happened a few minutes ago, he should stand up and follow you into your shared tent for the night, but somehow his limbs just won’t move and he ends up being anchored to his spot. Coward, he scold himself, shaking his head. 

You, on the other hand, in the thin confines of the tent Felix spent a ridiculous amount of time setting up, are silently praying to yourself that sleep will find you before Felix enters the tent, so that to avoid the risk of being confronted by whatever the fuck happened out there. You should’ve known that your secret wouldn’t be safe with Minho, but you weren’t expecting it to come out tonight of all nights. 

Staring at the ceiling, wrapped in your blanket in your sleeping bag, you can’t help but relieve the moment all over again in your head. Why the fuck did you drink? You could’ve pretended, but no, Minho would’ve exposed you either way. And Felix… Felix hadn’t drunk. Forcing yourself to close your eyes and try to sleep, you realize you have to face the hard truth - Felix doesn’t have feelings for you, he only sees you as his best friend. 

Too lost in your train of thought, you don’t hear Felix zipping the tent door open, entering your shared space for the night. Right now, you wish you had your own tent - your own, personal space, so that you don’t have to sleep next to him. On top of that, you’re supposed to share the sleeping bag tonight. Anyhow, you close your eyes shut a little too late, and Felix notices. 

“Y/n? Are you awake?”, he asks. 

You don’t answer, hoping to fool him with your poor acting. Felix knows the reason why you’re trying to avoid him, and he feels crushed, knowing he’s the reason you’re feeling sad and hurt right now. He’s the worst best friend ever. He sighs, turning on the night lamp to change into his pyjamas, which consists of an oversized hoodie and some sweats. Then, once he’s ready for bed, he gets under the covers - beside you. The air is tense, and now it’s his turn to stare at the ceilings - if you can call it that -, unable to fall asleep, and he knows you’re not asleep as well. 

“Y/n…”, his deep voice makes you get goosebumps all over your skin. “I’m sorry.”, he whispers. 

Of course, you don’t answer - you’re still pretending to be asleep, after all. However, you’re curious, what is he sorry about?

“I should’ve done something, anything.”, he says, and your breath gets stuck in your throat. “Fuck- I should have drunk, too.”

“Don’t, Felix, please.”, your voice comes out in a desperate whisper. 

You don’t want him to feel like he has to do something about what happened out there, and you most definitely not want him to feel forced to say he feels the same when, clearly, he doesn’t. You keep telling yourself that it’s okay if he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, you’ll just have to get over your crush and then your friendship will go back to normal without hard feelings between the two of you. 

“Wha- why?”

You sigh. “Because it makes me feel worse. Can’t we just forget about it?”

“I can’t forget, y/n.” Felix argues, and God, you hate his stubbornness. 

“Felix-“, you start, but he interrupts you. 

“I have feelings for you, too.”

His words make your blood run cold. He did not just say that. You know he probably said it just to make you feel less bad about being blatantly rejected in front of all your friends. However, your heart starts beating fast in your chest. 

“You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying.”, you scoff, shaking your head, clearly not believing him. Why would you, after all? He’s never shown any interest in youin that way. Well, neither have you, but that’s not the point. 

“I’m not drunk. You know I’m not.”

He’s right. Felix always slurs his words and starts giggling like a child when he’s drunk. Also, he gets incredibly red in the face and all touchy. And right now, he’s not doing any of these things. So you believe him. 

“Felix, stop.”, you sigh. “Stop getting my hopes up, it’s not fair.”

He hears how whiny your voice sounds, and all he wants to do is wrap his arms around you and pull you close, but he decides to respect your boundaries. After all, you’re still on your side, you haven’t turned around to look at him. It feels a hundred times harder, confessing his feelings for you this way, and it’s not how he imagined he would do it. 

“I’m serious, y/n.” Felix says. “I really do have feelings for you in a romantic way.”, he explicitly says. 

You turn around, lying on your back, not looking at him yet. You fidget with the hem of your hoodie. “Then why… why didn’t you drink when Minho… when he…”, you trail, unable to get the words out of your mouth as you repeat the scene over and over in your head.

“Because I’m a coward, that’s why.” Felix quickly says. 

You two stay quiet for a while, just staring at the ceiling, laying next to each other in the silence of your tent. Your hearts are beating fast in your chests, and you’re both smiling like idiots, from ear to ear, and Felix is proud of himself for finally confessing to you after months- no, years, of bottling up his feelings. 

“So, you… you have feelings for me.”, you mumble. 

“Mh-hm.” Felix hums. 

“And I have feelings for you.”

He hums again. 

You finally turn to look at him, shifting your body on your side, and he does the same. You’re face to face, smiling timidly at each other, and he looks so beautiful, his features clearly visible thanks to the warm, faint light provided by the night lamp. 

“Felix, can you… can you kiss me?”, you mumble timidly, shifting your gaze from his face to your hands. 

He shifts under the covers, getting closer to your body. Despite his shaking hands, he manages to move a lock of hair from your cheek, and he gets even closer - you can now feel his breath on your mouth. When his nose brushes yours, you both close you eyes in anticipation, and the next thing you know, Felix’s lips are on yours. 

You’re kissing. Fuck, you’re really kissing Felix. And honestly, it does feel a bit weird to kiss your best friend, but you like the feeling. It’s clumsy and timid and so, so overwhelming in the best way possible. You just hope it’s the same for him. When you pull away, you look at him, and you’re both red in the face. 

“So, uh… how was it?” Felix asks, trying his best to look you in the eyes despite his nervousness. 

“Weird.”, you say with a smile. 

“Oh.” Felix’s face drops. 

“Good weird.”, you clarify. 

“Oh.” Felix rises his eyebrows, there’s a sparkle in his eyes and a smile on his face. His body instantly relaxes. “Can we… do it again?”

You nod, and this time it’s you who pulls him closer, crashing your lips on his, placing your hand on his cheek, then move it to the nape of his neck, toying with his hair as you deepen the kiss. His tongue brushes your lower lip, then enters your mouth slowly, delicately - just as he entered your life. You pull away from each other only to catch your breaths, and then you’re back to kissing as if you wanted to make up for all the time you could’ve been doing this. 

And then you feel it. 

A hard bulge, pressing against your abdomen. He’s hard. He’s kissing you and he’s hard. Because of you. The thought’s enough to make your head spin, and you want to do something about it, but at the same time don’t want to take things too far. Sleeping with him, or even foreplay, is a big step, and you don’t want it to happen for the first time while you’re in a tent, camping, with your friends nearby. But you want to take them just a little bit further - after all, you’re turned on, too, wetness pooling in your underwear.

Felix pulls away from the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, moving the lower part of his body so that his hard-on is not pressing against you anymore. “Sorry.”, he chuckles, embarrassed. 

“It’s okay.”, you reassure him. 

“Sometimes it just happens, dicks are weird, you know?”, the tips of his ears are red. 

“Oh, so it’s not because I turn you on?”, you quirk an eyebrow at him, and he’s left speechless, mouth agape as if he wanted to say something, eyes open wide. 

“I- no, you… I mean, you do. But- I thought-“, he stutters, unable to get a full sentence out. 

“You’re so cute.”, you bite your lip and smile at him, before pulling him in for another kiss, rolling your hips against his so that his crotch brushes yours once more. You grind against it, and a muffle sound escapes his mouth.

“Y/n-“, your name falls from his lips easily, and his hand finds your waist to halt your movements. “You… we don’t… I mean-“

“How about we take things just a little bit further?”, you whisper on his lips, looking him in the eye so he knows you’re serious about this and you really want it. 

He blinks a few times as he processes your words. “Are you sure?”, he asks, and you nod, convinced. 

“Mh-hm…”, you peck his lips once more. “Just… touch each other over the clothes, maybe?”, you suggest. 

Felix nods. “Okay.”, he licks his lips and then kisses you, before he starts grinding his hips against yours. 

To be honest, you can’t feel that much. You’re both wearing sweats since it’s cold outside, and the layers don’t really provide enough friction between your bodies. You’re sure Felix feels the same, but of course he won’t mention it - he’s too respectful of your boundaries. 

“Can we- maybe take some clothes off?”, you pant, breaking the kiss. 

“We can do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

You undress yourselves until you’re both left in your underwear only. You’ve seen Felix shirtless countless of times, but this time’s different. All the other times he didn’t have a boner pressed against your clothed cunt, he wasn’t grinding against you, desperate for some friction. Pretty, hoarse grunts didn’t leave his mouth all the other times, and his hand wasn’t gripping your hip. 

“Does it feel good?”, he groans, hot dick resting against your folds, brushing your clit with each movement of his hips. 

You do feel good, but somehow it’s not enough. “I- yes,” you reassure him, seeing he was already panicking. “It feels good, but…”

“Not enough?”

You shake your head slowly, sighing. “It feels good, I promise, it’s just…” 

“You want more?”, he asks with a deep voice, and you clench around nothing. 

You nod, knowing he’s not suggesting sex - neither of you is ready to do it properly. Not here, not tonight. 

“Maybe we can try… I mean, we would be naked, but there’d be a sheet between us, you know?”, he swallows the lump in his throat. “We’d feel each other closer.”

“Okay.”

Felix’s body shifts as he changes his position. He’s on top of you now, body hovering over yours, but you’re not pressed together. You wonder if he’s feeling cold, shirtless, while you get to be covered by the bedsheet. But Felix’s not feeling cold at all. In fact, he feels like he could pass out from a heatstroke right now, in the middle of the night, while it’s freezing cold outside. 

From underneath the sheet, you take off your bra, then slide your underwear down your thighs until they stay hooked on one of your ankle. Felix doesn’t get to see tour naked figure, covered by the thin, dark layer, but his cock has never been harder nonetheless. He captures your lips in a kiss as he positions his body between your spread thighs, then his hand reaches the waistband of his boxers, and he finally pulls them down his legs. 

He was right - you do feel closer to him. So close, it almost feels as if the thin layer of the bedsheet isn’t there. Almost. Intertwining your fingers with his, he starts to move, grinding his hips against yours, allowing you to feel every movement of his hard cock against your pussy. You’re so aroused you’re sure you’re leaking onto the sheets, but you can’t bring yourself to care right now. Not with the way he’s thrusting his hips, pressing the sheets against your clit, the friction causing you to let out a louder moan.

“Do you - like it?”, he tries to hold back a moan by biting his lip. 

You nod, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. The bedsheet shifts a little, allowing Felix to catch a glimpse of your naked boob, nipple hard, and he licks his lip just thinking about how bad he wants to capture it between his lips and suck on it. The thought is enough to make him snap his hips faster, the tip of his cock right above your clit.

“Oh, my God- right there.”, you whimper, and your nails find their place on Felix’s bare shoulders as he repeats the movement. 

“Here?”, he grunts, hitting the same spot. Usually, he has no trouble in finding the clit, but right now it’s a little bit harder, considering he can’t see you. 

You nod frantically, throwing your head back on the pillow. “Yes, there. Please.”

Your exposed neck and collarbone are too tempting, and Felix latches his mouth on your skin as he keeps moving his hips against you, moaning to the feeling of your wetness soaking the sheet - he can feel how wet you are against his cock. 

“I- I’ll probably won’t last much longer.”, he warns you, gripping your waist with one of his hands as his thrusts become more desperate. 

“It’s okay- ‘m close.”, you pant. 

He widens his eyes. “You are?”, he sounds surprised - he is, but your words only encourage him to keep going. 

“I am.”, you tug at his hair, feeling the familiar warm feeling in your lower belly. “So close, please don’t stop.”

Felix finds out tonight that his new favorite sound is the little whimper you make as you come. Because of him. For him. Pulling him closer, breathing heavily against his mouth as your lips are pressed together, nails digging in his skin. And suddenly, he’s on the verge of his orgasm too, and instantly pulls away from your body, knowing that if he cums on the bedsheets he’ll surely stain them - he learned it the hard way. So he lies on his back, next to you, and jerks himself off, somehow not embarrassed that you literally saw him naked - you’re still looking at him, eyes set on his crotch, admiring the way his hands moves fast around his length. He cums with a hoarse grunt, cum landing on his abdomen with five, long spurts and he finally slows down his movements as he comes off of his high, panting heavily as he catches his breath. 

After a couple of seconds, he realizes that he’s literally laying beside you, completely naked, with cum all over his body, and he grows embarrassed, cheeks flushing red. “Could you… pass me a tissue or something - anything?”, he wishes the ground would swallow him whole, but he relaxes instantly when he sees you smiling at him. He has no reason to feel embarrassed, you’re his best friend after all. 

You peck his lips. “Sure.” You slip on your hoodie and slide your panties up again, before reaching for your backpack, where you keep your tissues and wet wipes. 

He cleans himself up and then puts his clothes back on, and then you slip under the covers together. He pulls you in for a tight hug, resting his chin on your head, and you hide your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. The whole tent is filled with the smell of sex, of both of your releases, and it somehow makes you smile, knowing it’s all real - you didn’t imagine anything, everything’s real. You have feelings for your best friend and he reciprocates them.

You fall asleep like that - legs entangled, Felix’s arms enveloping you in a hug and you with your hands on his back, occasionally slipping them under his hoodie to feel the warmth of his skin. 

⛺︎

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

-> reblog to support me if you like my works, “it’s good for motivation” my man chris bang once said. also, I love reading feedback (even in tags it's always highly appreciated) ♡

[travelersspark]

IM BACK! 🌟

Literally when on break since I've been busy with college and work😅. Now I can get back into the swing of things ! Since I'm here , might as well make a new headcanons post ~♡

𝑷𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝑻𝑳𝑲 .ᐟ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝑮𝑵.ᐟ𝑯𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

𝑶𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒔

First off. Cayde had a meeting with you at your local job. You and Cayde were close since he practically raised you along with Tessa . You were running late and Cayde was inside Optimus. Optimus had heard about you but never thought much about it.

He'd ask about you to Cayde and Cayde talked fondly of you so Optimus could sort of trust you. So could Cayde. Hence why he was gonna finally explain to you whats been going on for the past year.

Of course you are insanely confused when you get in the truck and Cayde starts being cryptic saying. “ Y/N. You know you can trust me right ? I would always tell you if somethings up.. ” -Cayde

You are dumbfounded at first while the silent drive fills the cabin with awkwardness. Then it hit you. “ Have you been looking for girls on tinder Cayde?! God I swear - ” - Y/N.

Facepalm from Cayde. Optimus almost laughed in his alt form but Cayde coughs before having to disprove your idiotic suspicion. He basically rushes an explanation of the autobots and decepticons and everything that has happened for the past year since you haven't really seen him.

Annnnnnnnndddd. Your not buying it. After the drive he tries explaining more but you brush it off basically just tired from work and chalking up his excuses to him being tired and or drunk.

Well.. until you see a group of vehicles strolling around and stopping with their headlights nearly blinding you (Kind of like the introduction the team from TF1) and with some loud noises and rumbling. You see them. Giant robots standing among you.

You Fucking FREAK. Definitely bout to be ready to throw some shit. Like WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK CAYDE ! Cayde has to mostly calm you down as well as Optimus surprisingly trying as well explaining that they would never hurt you.

After a couple of minutes of losing your shit. Optimus introduced himself explain his motives and his following. Your still apprehensive but sort of star struck. Ootimus's voice and tone was totally different than his remorseful and sort of stern tone. It even surprised Cayde.

Optimus certainly finds you intriguing due to the stories Cayde told him Since you now know of thier existence they have to basically become your body guards in a sense. You don't mind it but you still have your worries. Mostly about the part with the decepticons.

He reassures that he would do anything to try and keep you and the other humans safe.

A couple of banter from the crew but with one Stern glance of Optimus they shut it.

You two might have a quite interesting partnership - in a good way.

𝑩𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒆𝒆

oh. This mute bot is EXCITED to meet you ! He was the first one to transform and show himself to you after optimus.

Kind of flustered and worried when you lost your cool about seeing them. But after he calms his excitement and lets his leader explain himself.

He flashes his sick moves which makes you smile and laugh a bit. He gladly would do it again to make you smile.

Bee is one of the first bots you considerably found yourself talking to.

When you found out he couldn't speak like the others and communicated through a radio, you though he was quite a special bot.

He's like you in a way. You to pair together so well. Bee thinks of you like his old partner Sam.

Oh. He can get protective of you. Mainly when Crosshairs or Hot Rod get a bit flirtatious or silly around you.

Casually offers a drive after a few hours of meeting which you don't really refuse. You had to admit. He was a dream ride of yours.

Its love at first sight in his eyes. He already finds himself crushing on you from day one. And he hopes that you stick around with him.

𝑪𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒔

God another Squishy thing?! Let's just say he wasn't amused.

Well until you basically cursed the hell out of Cayde. Now he's impressed

Now he's made it his mission to figure out what makes you tic.

Weirdly he can he either considerate or just a complete jerk. But a loveable one at that.

He finds himself always trying to be flirtatious with you. But when you do it back he gets completely flustered and curses you out (his love language according to drift)

Fights about the miniscule things with you. Like if you eat in his alt form and there's a crumb he's gonna scold you.

Never saw himself being friends with a human but he would definitely enjoy his company with you.

First meeting him he is pretty serious about not wanting you around a bit but it shifts to wanting to hang with you more.

You two are FUCKIN GREMLINS TOGETHER. yall annoy the hell out of optimus and cade at times. God you two are a mess

Starts out as not being protective of you to being ULTRA protective. Mans always worried about you but tries to play it off.

𝑯𝒐𝒕 𝑹𝒐𝒅

Omg him and Bumblebee fell HARD for you when Cade introduced you to the crew. Literally he couldn't stop gawking at you.

Already trying to one up everyone else with his flirtatious and suave energy.

Placed a bet with bee to see if you'd like him more.

First to offer you rides from work, school or whatever. (He figured you showing up in his alt form would make you popular or cool. And he wasn't wrong either.)

Immediately asks Optimus to assign him as your guardian. Let me tell you, he is smitten by you and in the best way possible.

Says small pet names in french

Arrogant little bastard. Can't take any hints when you need space.

Overall hes just wanting time with you but doesn't exactly understand the idea of patience is a virtue.

𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅

Another human huh. Cool, hope they useful type energy.

Hes pretty chill about it to be honest. Definitely hesitant at the idea but understand where Cade is coming from.

Would personally introduce himself to you if you find him a bit intimidated. Secretly he's a big softie and jokes terrible behind closed doors.

Once he finds out you are just as handy as Cade is hes all over you. Don't expect him.to leave you alone with random weapon scraps and ideas he has in his head.

Probably would take you out to test some grenades with him or something.

Pretty protective on first meet. Mostly since he knows he can keep you safe with his experience and skills in war.

If you don't like the sight of anything remotely similar to cigars and smoke. He would actually stop puffing his bullet in front of you out of respect.

Doesn't care much about your habits as long as you don't get your ass in trouble that is.

Not the type to drive you around since he's a big ass military vehicle and that would definitely cause alot of suspicions.

𝑫𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒕

Not bothered but skeptical of your arrival. Let's just say he isn't too fond of the idea of another human around

Probably would discuss his concerns to cade and optimus about the risks but would be told that it was mostly for the best.

He gives up and pretends you just another one of the bots.

Pretty distant at first since he's still weary of you.

But if you compliment him during training of something and use the right terminology of the kata forms and martial arts he will definitely open up to you.

He appreciates someone who can understand his dedication. As well as someone educated in the sacred arts of Japanese and Chinese traditions.

Offers meditation lessons after some time if you are willing to do so.

Silent but deadly type of protective.

Has fought with crosshairs one time.when he was picking on you.

Very tsundere at first but overall he knows you are a good person and wouldn't mind getting to learn more about you

[lets-try-some-writing]

Sparklings chirp. Birds chirp. Humans occasionaly too the mimics that they are. Cue bots and cons making fools of themselves

Cybertronians are known for their intelligence as a general rule. A technological species built for increadible adaptation and industry is not exactly the most likely to be fooled. However, there are a few things which are the most likely to trip them up across the board. The sound of a sparkling happens to be one of those things.

A sparkling has a unique signature sound that they develop a few cycles after their emergence. But a fresh sparkling does not have this signature song and instead spits out something akin to a chirp. It is simply meant to make noise as a sparkling tests their voice and develops their call. However this has in turn led to a few false alarms amongst Autobots and Decepticons.

Logically they all know that there cannot be sparklings on Earth. It is an impossibility. It is even more of an impossibility for a sparkling young enough to make a basic cry to be anywhere near and organic world. And yet, instincts are strong in those who have not seen a sparkling since the height of the war.

Arcee has tripped up more than a few times due to birds with calls just high enough to sound eerily similar to a smaller framed sparkling crying out for attention. She has, while tired, followed a few of these birds for several minutes before realizing her folly and turning back. No one will ever know, at least, that is what she tells herself. Soundwave knows everything.

Starscream doesn't like sparklings all that much as a general rule, or rather, he doesn't like the idea of any being around him during a war. He adores them in any other situation. Thus it was not hard for him to almost go nose diving toward the ground when a flock of birds got a little too close and had him frantically scanning the area in search of a fictitious sparkling before he figured out that it was just the organic fauna fragging with him.

Knockout had done more than a few hopeful rounds after hearing something small making a whistling almost chirp like sound while on patrol. He is fully aware that a sparkling being on Earth is impossible, but that hasn't stopped him from tailing such sounds only to end up very much disappointed when he finds a human messing around or some sort of bird chirping away. He wants to hope, and one can never be too careful. This has led to issues when Rafael made a squeak that bordered on a chirp during battle. Knockout almost dropped what he was doing to grab the boy on instinct before a punch brought him to his senses.

The bots at base have been led to panic on more than a few occasions when the children or even Agent Fowler whistled a little too high to be registered as normal. There has been scrambling and instinctual urges to coddle in response to the sounds. Surprisingly, Jack of all people has weaponized this to get Arcee's attention when he really wants it. He does not abuse this more than necessary. Rafael tends to accidently get Bumblebee to pick him up when he makes any sound a little too high pitched for comfort. Miko can't seem to get the whistle right, but Bulkhead has internally registered her attempts as her unique call and so he will respond anyway.

[daughter-of-sapph0]

tips for redditors joining tumblr

make sure you have a profile picture: otherwise people will think you're a bot. we currently have a bot infestation right now, so many people block on sight unless you look like a human

reblog stuff you like: reblogging is how this site operates. it's sorta like resharing the original post around, and it'll show up on your blog too so people who follow you will see it. sometimes you can add a comment or tags, but it's not necessary

make your experience better: if you're on desktop, download Firefox, ublock origin, shinmigami eyes, and xkit. these make the website usable, block ads, and let you know who you should murder on sight. if you're on moblie... uh, idk...

turn off tumblr live: literally no one uses it, and it probably steals your data. go to blog settings, dashboard preferences, snooze tumblr live. you'll have to do this every week, and we celebrate that on Snooze Tumblr Live Tuesday

we have lots of holidays: we have Out Of Touch Wednesday, Feliz Jueves, Kill A Cop With A Baseball Bat Monday, Get Lost In The Evil Forest Saturday, and Summon The Dark Lord To Bring About The Destruction Of The Earth Wednesday. some of these are real

don't go in the cave: don't go in the cave don't go in the cave don't go in the cave don't go in the cave don't go in the cave don't go in the cave don't go in the cave don't go in the cave

take lots of breaks: mental health is important. discourse is really stupid and dumb, and you can absolutely block whoever you want for any reason. be sure to log off if you feel tired or stressed

you have to be queer and a freak: this is the LGBT sjw website. to be accepted here, you need to act like a homosexual pervert. furries are really popular here. find a group of furries to be horny with. do it now!

most importantly, have fun: I never really used reddit much, but I know that it was like tumblr in that it was one of the social media sites that was most similar to the forums and message boards of yesteryear. as the internet is slowing being killed off by corporations and capitalism, it's important that we make the most of the small space we have left.

[emotionallyattachednerd]

Lucky Winners ❙ ES Bumblebee X f!robot reader X Breakdown ❙ NSFW 18+

Word count: 2300+

Warnings: Smut ( valve in plug and port and double penetration ) threesome, mentions of BreakBee and a pretty tasty sandwich. NSFW 18+.

Notes: This...I really liked this! Thanks anon for sending through it was a lot of fun and excited to share with the world. Enjoy. 🥰

They are at it again. Bumblebee and Breakdown were having a few races together at the track while you watch on, unable to hold back your smile as you admire them both carrying on like sparklings. Honestly, you think it's cute, they both are, and you enjoy spending time with them.

After the horrible events with both G.H.O.S.T. and Mandroid there was a lot to repair and more verbal agreements to be made. All decepticons and autobots are finally working together to repair the space bridge, and to put the differences aside for a better future.

You're an autobot, loyal to Optimus, but even you grew tired of this war. Despite still being considered as young you felt ready for retirement. After the space bridge would be fixed you wanted to revisit cybertron, and from there you're wanting to consider what you want.

What you truly want is to settle, a change to start a family perhaps, but finding the right mech was no easy task. Right now your thoughts and optics are right on both Bumblebee and Breakdown. Both were rather handsome, funny, and they were both kind to you. But of course you can't have both, right?

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear the sound of engines roaring and tires skidding, both bots come screaming around the track and as always Breakdown beats Bumblebee. They both transform in style right before you then.

"Too slow!"

"Not again! I know you're cheating somehow, there's just no way you can beat me every single time!"

"Just admit that I'm faster to you, Bee." Breakdown gave out a hearty laugh that you are fond of hearing.

"Y/N, to be honest, did he get a head start?" Bumblebee asks, bringing you into the moment.

"Breakdown a cheater? That's a serious accusation." Your tone is playful. "I'm pretty sure you both went off at the same time."

"I want a re-race!" Bumblebee declared.

"Let's make it interesting. Winner takes the prize." Breakdown grins with mischief.

"What prize? You've got nothing to offer!" Bumblebee argues with slumped shoulders before looking at you. "Name the prize, Y/n."

"Me?" You sound surprised. "Well, alright. The winner shall...." You think before giving a shrug, followed by a silky giggle. "The winner gets a kiss from me."

It's a joke, at least that's what you told yourself.

Both Breakdown and Bumblebee stare at you, then at each other, before they transform and are flying down the track as if their lives depended on it.

"Oh." You whisper to yourself as you feel your cheek plating warm up a little. It was a joke, and they both took it very seriously. Surely they didn't seriously think you are being for real?

Well, you sit there, anxiously waiting for the winner to finish. It's not that you were opposed to the thought of kissing either of them, you would like that very much, but perhaps it's just you overthinking it. It's just a kiss.

Eventually they finish, and once again Breakdown is the champion.

"Yes! I get the prize!" He looks rather proud of himself and even eager to get the kiss from you.

"No fair..." Poor Bumblebee sounded like a wounded critter.

"So, Y/n, how about that kiss?" Breakdown cruises towards you, holding a charming smirk as you stand up from the ground in front of him.

"Very well." Leaning forward you caress his cheek, turning his head lightly and kissing his cheek lightly, giving him a dainty giggle noticing his confused expression.

"What? That's all?" You don't miss Bumblebee's amused smile.

"Oh I'm sorry, were you expecting a hot make out session?" You teased with a seductive smile.

"Yeah?"

"That wasn't the prize offered." Patting his cheek you step away crossing your arms across your charris.

"Alright then, put it on the table." Breakdown sounded determined to get that kiss, which makes you blush lightly knowing what he wants from you. "Bee, one more race?"

Bumblebee vented heavily. "Fine! But I'm watching you, no cheating."

"Y/n, all good, kiss on the lips on the table?" Breakdown looks very anxious as he dances lightly on his pedas making you smirk lightly, an idea forming in your mind. It was crazy but you can't help yourself. After all, it's been a while since you've had any intimate fun.

"How about...whoever wins, get's to have me." You declare before leaning yourself against the brick wall and parting your legs a little, your servos cascading over the top of your thighs, teasing the two racers. "And they can do whatever they want with me."

Once again the silence lingers, and after a long moment of waiting, both Breakdown and Bumblebee have driven off down the track once again in a more desperate attempt to win. You can't help but giggle lightly, the joy and thrill already working through your frame as you wait, curious as to who was going to win and have their way with you. You are going to feel so sorry for whoever doesn't win.

As both come around the bend you notice that both are side by side as they floor it towards the finish line. Would this be the race that Bumblebee finally wins?

Keeping your optics at the finish, you anxiously bit your lips and waited, and waited, right before they both crossed. It's a tie.

"It's me! I won!" Breakdown yells as he's letting everyone know he's won.

"No way! I did! I won that race!" Bumblebee argues not wanting to lose this round.

"Y/n, be honest, who's the lucky winner?" Breakdown leaves it to you to decide, smirking lightly as he sends you a charming wink.

Of course though you answer honestly. "You're both the lucky winners."

"What?" Both looked confused at you causing an uplifting giggle to leave you.

"I saw it, and it's a tie, no more arguing about it. Now, if you two are done with your racing, perhaps you both would like to have your prize now?" You tease as you walk back into the sheltered part of the race track, optics illuminating in the shadows as you await their pounce.

It doesn't take long for either of them to do exactly that.

You find yourself being embraced by Breakdown from behind, feeling his servos roaming over your hips and waist, his lips planting against the back of your neck as he lets out a groan just from touching you. Bumblebee stood in front, his lips latched onto your own in a lustful aura, glossa's tangled gentle together as you both let out hushed moans into one another. It seems both didn't have any issues sharing you.

Curiously, you teased Bumblebe's horns between your digits, earning a short gasp from him as he pulled away in surprise, notice his cheek plating heat up from your actions.

"Sensitive?" You ask through a gentle teasing tone.

"Y-yeah, but it's alright." He gives an innocent smile.

"He secretly loves it." Breakdown says from behind you against your audio.

"And how would you know?" You continue to tease.

"I know everything." His tone was very suggestive.

You bit your lips in thought, considering that the two fool around with one another, which you actually found quite arousing. You digits continue to gently tease Bumblebee's horns, enjoying the sounds he made as you both kiss deep again. Breakdown's servo moved down between your thighs earning a low moan from you under their seductive touches.

"I bet you're already soaking for us, yeah?" Breakdown's tone seems to have that in depth effect on you.

"So much." You weren't going to lie or hold back as you spread your thighs a little, rocking your hips down against his touches. Moving your own servo behind you touch his heated panel, your other moving to Bumblebee's panel as you give them firm rubs, making the two groan from your touches. "And I bet you two are eager for this."

Their answer is by moving, and you find yourself straddling Bumblebee on the ground with Breakdown behind you still, feeling him tilt your helm to the side so he can steal another warm kiss from you as you grind yourself against Bumblebee, who has now retracted his panel and you do the same, rubbing yourself along his already throbbing spike. Breakdown does the same and you feel his thick spike rubbing up against your aft earning a thrilled quiver to rush through your frame.

"Are you alright with this?" Breakdown asks you gently, knowing very well you are about to take them both.

"Definitely."

You trust both to take care and satisfy you greatly. You end up retracting your port than for Breakdown and grind yourself against the two mechs to get them even harder and yourself more lubricated.

A lot of your juices have already leaked out and Breakdown uses this to coat his digits and gently probe your port to prepare you for him. The invasion was different but not bad, in fact you find yourself rocking back against his digits, right before positioning yourself over Bumblebee's tip and sinking down on him.

"Oh primus..." Bumblebee moans, servos holding onto your hips as you slowly lower yourself, feeling every ridge press through your inner walls before bending down to kiss him softly.

Slowly you rock yourself, clenching around his spike along with Breakdown's pumping digits, letting out soft mewls that linger and savouring every second of this. You honestly had no idea if something like this would happen again, and so you want to make every second count for the three of you and make sure they never forget it.

Breakdown removes his digits and you hear him shuffling behind before feeling the warm tip of his spike against your port, nudging gently, before he pushes forward slowly. His grunts hit your audio as you tip your helm back against his shoulder, moaning loudly before it's swallowed by his lips over yours, devouring you with his glossa as he continues to inch forward into your tight port.

Bumblebee found the sight of you both above him even more arousing while you rode his spike slowly, his servos resting at your waist while he vents through the heated desire rushing through him.

You take both their spikes fully, feeling every bumpy ridge and throb from them, clenching around them teasingly as you continue to rock yourself slowly against them. "You both fill me so well, so good." You send them both praises. "You can move, please."

"We'll take very good care of you." Breakdown purrs before looking down at Bumblebee. "You ready slowpoke?"

"Bring it, show off." Bumblebee grins at him.

Holding yourself above, both of them start to thrust into you in sync together, slowly and firmly. Your valve and port welcome both spikes eagerly, clenching around them, feeling every ridge dragging across your inner walls. Your optics shuttered as your mouth hung open, constant silky moans forming from you as you let both winners take you as their prize.

Breakdown's heated grunts are deep and continuous, pressing into you repeatedly as his servos grip your waist securely. Bumblebee's moans are different, softer, servos held a sturdy yet gentle hold across your hips, feeling his digits circling into your soft armour which sends pulses of bliss through your already quivering frame.

"Oh frag..." Is all you can whisper out through the intense interfacing you are receiving from two impressive mechs and their throbbing spikes entering you over again in perfect sync.

"Taking us so well." Breakdown whispers hoarsely against your audio, feeling ever heated vent from him as he rocks into you. "Think you can go for more?"

"Easy Breakdown, don't want to hurt her." Bumblebee's concern was sweet, you think to yourself.

"It's alright. Yes, please. I've got two speed racers fragging me. Give me your true speed." You are ready for them, and it's all the coaxing they both need.

It's as if something set off between them, an electric pulse, because the next thing you know is both of them let themselves go, and truly show you the speed racers they are.

Metal hitting metal, scraping together, throbbing spikes now being rutted into your valve and port repeatedly. Both their hips slam against you over again, but of course all you can feel is the overwhelming pleasure boiling through you as you somehow manage to hold yourself up above Bumblebee with shaky arms.

Your overload suddenly snaps, catching you off guard and half broke shout and collapsing against Bumblebee's chassis while clamping tightly around their twitching cables buried deep in you, aftershocks and pulses rocking through your frame as your moans continue to linger out through their rapid thrusts against you.

Both weren't too far behind, and as you let out short whimpers through they final thrusts, you suddenly feel them giving their final movements through their intense moans and filling you deeply with their transfluids, jerky thrusts lingering before Breakdown lays gently across your back, careful to not crush you or Bumblebee.

Laying on top of Bumblebee he turns his helm a little and you end up kissing him softly making him smile lightly in return as his servo caresses your shoulder. Breakdown leans down over your shoulder, moaning a little as you still feel him inside you, before he tilts your helm back to kiss you as well. That wasn't all though, and you watch through inquisitive optics as Breakdown then leans across to kiss Bumblebee.

You already guessed they are fooling around, and it only turns you on.

"Just so you both know, if you ever want me to offer myself as a prize through racing for each of you, I'm keen." You inform them.

"Guess Bee and I will be racing more often than." You can feel Breakdown's grin through his voice.

"One of these days I'll beat you." Bumblebee sounds determined.

"Sure thing, slow poke."

You let out a soft giggle and touch both speeders tenderly. "I can't wait."

[sweetiecakesss]

The Outlaw | Boothill (Angst)

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Synopsis: A forbidden love between an outlaw and penacony's star.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇Tags: Boothill, Outlaw, Forbidden Love, No Happy Endings!

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇Note: This is based off of @/bladesdiary's Boothill Bot on Character Ai. Check out their bots, they're really well made!!

P.S This is pretty much a self-indulgent fic cause I cried buckets doing a roleplay with this bot.

Being a member of an elite family in penacony is everyone's dream, being the center of it all, riches on all riches. You thought life couldn't even be more perfect, until you met him...

Boothill, an outlaw. A man that was both feared and wanted by all. It was a night of you just escaping this blasted reality, following where your feet led you, until you stumbled upon him on an abandoned building.

Since then, it has been a routine...Meeting up, chatting, it went on for 5 months up until...

The both of you fell inlove. It was so surreal, for once you felt happy. That building becoming a spot full of memories, escapades of forbidden love between an outlaw and penacony's star, you.

"You know, Darlin'...for a pretty princess you sure do have a spark in you" Boothill let out as he removed his hat and sat beside you by the edge of the building. You turned and faced him with a smug grin as you scooted towards him, placing your head on his shoulders as you sighed.

"But you love me anyways" You smugly replied to which Boothill chuckled and lightly patted your hand in comfort.

"Well, of course I do" He replied, his tone taking on a flirtacious edge to it. "That wild streak is exactly why I love you."

You let out a chuckle, silence befalling between you and him as the both of you stared at the sky. Stars twinkling oh so prettily as Boothill would fiddle with your hand, seeking the warmth of it on his. As the moon shone down between you, a sudden thought flooded your mind.

"Hey Boothill..." You softly called out to him.

"Yes, Darlin'?" He asked as he turned his head to face you, the sight of you taking boothill's breath away as he gave you a fond smile. You looked at Boothill, gaze studying his features as you then cupped his cheeks. He hummed as he felt your skin on his.

"I was just wondering...What if my family found out about this, what would you do?" You let out.

As you posed the question about your family, his smile faltered as he looked at you with his brows furrowed. He knew the answer, he knew the consequences but it was all to scary for him to come and talk about it.

"I..." He started, voice trailing off. "I...Don't want to think about it." Your eyes slightly widened as he let go of your hand and answered you. You sat there, beside him before letting go of his face and looking away from him. Boothill looked at you with worry as you let go of him, he saw the distasteful expression on your face but he decided not to comment on it just yet.

"I want to go home..." You let out as you stood up, grabbing the cloak you use to hide your identity as you wore it again. Boothill followed behind you as he grabbed you by your arm.

"Nami..." Boothill let out as he looked at you, unsure of how to start and end this conversation. You looked at him with a blank expression.

"You know...I expected a different answer from you when I asked..." You let out with a tinge of coldness and dissapointment in your tone, Boothill's hand slid from your arm to your hand as he raised it to his lips, kissing it. Hoping it would appease you.

"Y/N, it's just too complicated. I don't want to think about it, am--" Before Boothill could even finish his sentence, you cut him off by pulling your hand away from his grip.

"If you don't want to talk about it now, then when are we planning on talking about it?" You let out.

"Am telling you, Darlin'...It's not that easy. For now, I want things to stay the same..."

"The same? Boothill, am getting sick and tired of this set up. I want to atleast take you out, I want to introduce you to my family, I want to be with you...!" You let out, tone slightly rising due to your built up frustration.

"Am just...Am scared" Boothill let out a mutter as he stood in front of you, lowering his head to avoid your gaze. You stared at him in confusion and dissapointment.

"Am gonna ask you again, Boothill. If the time were to come and my family found out, they told you to leave me and never show your face...what would you do..." You asked once more, tears threatening to leave your eyes as you let out baited breaths to hold it in.

"I..." He let out, pausing.

"Do you want me to be honest with you?..." He asked as he finally looked back up and met your gaze.

"Just spit it out" You retorted.

You could see how Boothill's hand formed into a fist as he looked at you, the loud whistling of the wind, started to become deafening as you waited for his answer. Boothill then took a deep breath before he responded.

"If they found out about us, I would leave." He let out, his reply piercing you straight in the heart. You stood there, dumbfounded

Taken aback, tears started streaming down your eyes as you looked at him with a blank expression. You were speechless and everything around you turned into an annoying buzz. For the first time, he saw how something affected you deeply. The guilt settling as it started to weigh in on him.

"I'm sorry..." Boothill let out. Snapping out of your trance you looked at him as you continued to wipe your tears away, hoping the tears would stop but no...It continued to flood out, with each sob you felt your chest tightening, as it started to get harder to breath.

"Fuck.." you let out in frustration as you continued to cry, Boothill looked at you with worry as he then reached out to hold you. You looked at him as you slapped his hand away.

"Don't fucking touch me...!" YOu yelled through gritted teeth, Boothill stared at you before he kept his head low.

"If I knew this would've happened, I wouldn't have fallen for your sweet promises and words!" You yelled again as you harshly pulled on the necklace you were wearing. A jaded necklace that he gave you. Looking at him, you threw it on the ground.

"Nami, am sorry but it's just..."

"Shut up!" You let out.

"Just...Shut up, I've heard enough and am done" You let out as you turned around and walked away. Boothill stared at your back, wanting to call for your name but it was inevitable. He sighed to himself as he then picked up the jaded necklace, and moving to sit down on the edge of the building.

Staring at the necklace, he gave it a small kiss before throwing it off of the building. His gaze staring ahead at the night sky, the once warm place, turned called and forgotten as Boothill got up and left. The wind howled as the lovestory between an outlaw and penacony's star tragically ended...

----

Grabbing the bottled beer, he chugged it down as he then looked up at the bartender who was staring at him with raised brows.

"What? Was it a bad story?" Boothill asked as he chugged down the beer.

"It was...something..." The bartender let out as he walked away and started serving the other customer's. Boothill sat on his seat and sighed to himself before his head looking up at the television hanging up by the bar.

"Just in! Penacony's Star, Y/N L/N has finally announced her wedding with the head of the Oak Family!--" The news anchor let up, Boothill chuckled to himself as he finished the beer he was drinking before placing a few credits under the empty bottle and leaving. It was indeed a bitter and painful end...

"Goodbye, Penacony" Boothill let out as he tipped his hat and walked away, continuing his journey with your name still looming at the back of his mind and heart. Hoping that he would see you again...

[tenpintsofsundrop]

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Summary:

While undercover inside the Separatarian Sect, you and Spencer realize something important: you can't live without each other.

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Fake Dating. Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 4, Episode 3.

Word Count: 8,200

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

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Full list of warnings and author's notes below.

Warnings: Lots of spoilers for the canon episode - so if you haven't watched Season 4 of Criminal Minds yet, steer clear of this fic for now (especially because watching the episode provides some context for this fic/makes things make more sense); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has the ability to get pregnant (she is not pregnant during the fic and there's no smut, but due to discussions in the fic, it's not unreasonable that she could get pregnant); fake dating in the form of a fake marriage - the reader and Spencer pretend to be married under the Christian religion to 'appeal' to Cyrus; because of the fake marriage, Spencer uses the term 'my wife' to refer to the reader; lots of mentions of religion (Christianity), religious extremism, mentions of pedophilia/child brides (in line with the canon episode); mentions of systemic sexism and gender roles enforced by cultures of organised religion and religious extremism; use of y/n and l/n (in this case meaning 'your last name'); the reader pretends to follow the Christian religion while undercover but I never stated if she believes in a less extreme version of these things or not (the reader's true religious beliefs are never stated); protective!Spencer, possessive!Spencer; mentions of Spencer being taller than the reader (which, again, I think he would be taller than most people) - the reader's body/body type is not described in any other way; mentions of guns and gun violence (not described in deep detail) - in line with the canon episode; the reader and Spencer fear for their lives; dangerous/live-threatening situations; the reader and Spencer are threatened with a gun; Cyrus is just generally creepy and sexist toward the reader; Spencer is pistol-whipped and the reader is threatened with sexual assault (it does not happen, Spencer protects her); mentions of pregnancy/the reader being pregnant (she is not pregnant during the course of the fic); mentions of the reader being a mother/having kids (Spencer makes up fake kids to sell their fake marriage story); the reader realizes she might actually want to be a mother because of Spencer's fake kids story; mentions of an explosion (as in the canon); love confessions; angst with a happy ending. Hopefully that is everything.

A/N: The title for this fic comes from a Fall Out Boy song of the same name. The theme/lyrics of the song don't really fit the fic, but I love the way that this title fits - how everyone in this fic is lying in some way but Spencer is someone with good intentions while lying. Making him the Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes. I love how it fits. I wrote this while suffering with heat exhaustion so idk if it's good or even makes sense. I rewatched the canon episode and it doesn't 100% align with what happened in the episode in terms of the timeline and stuff, and I am too tired to rewrite the whole fic to make it align with the episode. So uh - alternative canon? But I really love the basic concepts and I do really love how it turned out. I hope you guys like it too!

...

You thought it would be an easy day. 

Maybe that was foolish on your part. So far, you hadn’t seen a single ‘easy’ day while working with the BAU. Between chasing down scumbags and then reliving every single gory detail while doing the paperwork - none of it was ‘easy’. It was worthy, accomplished work - making the world a safer place to live in. (At least that’s what you told yourself.) But it was never easy. 

There was always someone who made the job easier. Someone who made you smile every single day - especially on days when you didn’t think you were even capable of feeling a tiny shred of joy. Someone who made you feel safe, who you always felt had your back no matter what. So you were glad that he was by your side today, along for the ride. 

“Tell us about Cyrus.” Reid prompted. 

He looked to the woman driving, your new companion for the day - Nancy Lunde, someone who worked with the state department and had set up the interviews with the children at the Separatarian Sect. 

“Benjamin Cyrus. No criminal record. In fact, there’s no record of the guy at all.” Nancy explained. 

“That’s odd.” You commented. “Usually someone being accused of something like this would have some past offenses. Especially because it would give him a reason to move into isolation to continue the criminal pattern of behavior.” 

“Well, I couldn’t find anything on him.” Nancy shrugged. 

“What about the 9-1-1 call?” You asked. 

“A fifteen year old girl called in saying that a man was ‘laying with her’ and claimed it as ‘God’s will’. I believe the ‘he’ referred to is Cyrus.” Nancy explained. “The age fits with Jessica Evanson, but I’ve managed to negotiate interviews with all the children, just to be sure. It wasn’t easy.” 

“They’re incredibly weary of outsiders.” You commented. “Our boss warned you not to identify us as FBI, right?” 

Nancy nodded. “I got you some spare credentials, just in case.” 

She took one of her hands off the wheel and reached into her pocket.

“You’re going to be using your real names. You’re going in as Child Victim Interview Experts working with Child Protective Services. No association with the FBI.” Nancy explained, handing Reid your fake credentials. 

He nodded, inspecting the IDs before handing you yours where you were sitting in the backseat. 

“Oh, before I forget.” You noted, reaching into the pocket of your cardigan. “The rings.” 

You pulled out a small plastic bag that Hotch had given to you before you left. It was a bag containing a fake diamond ring in your size and a fake golden ‘wedding’ band for Spencer. 

Reid reached over the seat to grab his ring from you, and Nancy gave the two of you an odd look. 

“Rings?” She questioned. 

“Fake wedding bands.” You explained. 

“It was our Unit Chief’s idea.” Reid added on. “He believes that presenting us as a ‘godly’ married couple to Cyrus will make him more likely to open up to us. He’s less likely to see us as hostile outsiders if he believes that we share a similar system of beliefs.” 

“It could also have a calming effect on the teenagers we have to interview or the kids there who have had more time to go through indoctrination at the Sect.” You continued to explain. “Even if their parents are hesitant to let the kids speak with us, they may be more willing to have their child speak with us or even leave them alone with us if they believe that we’re fellow Christians, rather than hostile atheists there to poison their children’s minds.” 

Reid nodded at you through the rearview mirror. 

“Make sure you put on the left hand.” He told you. “That’s the position for marriage.” 

You nodded at this. 

You placed the ring in the appropriate position, and you couldn’t help but to take a moment and stare at it. It was jarring to have a wedding ring on - especially with the thought that it represented you being married to Spencer. But you supposed, of all the people to call your husband, he would be one of the best. He was honest, intelligent, kind, and… if you were pressed, you would definitely say he was handsome. 

But you couldn’t get too caught up thinking about all of that. Because it wasn’t real. It was a false projection you were wearing for the benefit of a self inflated sociopath. 

Spencer liked the feeling of the ring. He didn’t take too long to stare at it after he had put it on, because he knew his mind would wander if he did. When Hotch had first proposed the idea of the two of you pretending to be married, Spencer had almost tripped over himself to oppose it - mostly because he didn’t think that he would be able to handle simply pretending to be your husband for the day. It was just too cruel. 

Having something he wanted so badly dangled right in front of him and knowing that it was all just a farce - it bothered him, but he delighted in the play nonetheless. 

When he caught the fake gold glinting in the light, Spencer had to remind himself that it was fake - that you would just be playing his wife for the day. He had to push back any internal glee that he felt at the idea that he got to be ‘taken’ by you while wearing that ring. It wasn’t real. It was just for the day. 

“Isn’t that deceptive?” Nancy asked. “Won’t Cyrus be even more angry if he finds out that it’s not true?” 

“He won’t find out.” You replied confidently. “And besides, we use deception in interrogations all the time. It’s a very basic tactic: align yourself with the suspect. Make them think you share the same beliefs, that you’re on their side.” 

Reid grinned at this. He always loved it when you spoke so confidently. 

… 

“We’re looking for Mr. Benjamin Cyrus.” Nancy announced as the three of you got out of the car. 

“Then you’ve found him.” Cyrus announced confidently. 

He was pretty much what you had expected him to be - dressed informally, slouched over, faking meekness, holding a bible near his chest as though it were a shield. He had planted himself there purposefully, wanting to be the first person to interact with the outsiders as three of you came into the Ranch. 

You hovered back near Spencer, letting Nancy make the first introduction. 

“I’m Nancy Lunde.” She said, giving a small nod toward the man. “We spoke on the phone regarding the allegation.” 

“‘Savages they call us, because our manners differ from theirs.’” Cyrus rhymed off a quote, obviously positioning himself and his group as martyrs being attacked for having ‘different ways’ that the world simply didn’t understand. 

“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr. Cyrus.” Nancy reminded him, hoping to keep the religious zealot on track. 

“Actually, it’s Benjamin Franklin.” Reid corrected her, talking about the quote. 

That did surprise you, but you didn’t find it surprising that Reid knew this fact right off the top of his head. It was just one of the many amazing things about him - his perfect memory and his ability to use it. 

Of course, him saying this immediately drew Cyrus’ attention toward the two of you. So Spencer stepped up to introduce you. 

“Hello, I’m Spencer Reid, and this is my wife, Y/N L/N.” He said motioning toward himself and then to you as he introduced the two of you. Hearing him refer to you as his wife - you hated to say it, but it caused a jolt through your system. Almost as if you had been waiting forever to hear him say those words and hadn’t even known it yourself. “We’re Child Victim Interview Experts, here on behalf of Child Protective Services.” 

Of course, you couldn’t get too caught up in deciphering how those words made you feel, because you had to focus on the task at hand. The job that you were here to do. 

“How far from God’s word must we have strayed for there to be a need to invent a job called ‘Child Victim Interview Expert’.” Cyrus said, his tone even, quiet. 

You knew that covertly, it was his way of saying that the two of you didn’t belong there, because he ran the Ranch with God’s word, so nobody had actually been harmed (in his opinion). He believed that he had done nothing wrong. Obviously, he thought your time and resources were better spent with ‘actual’ victims who didn’t have his power wielded over their lives. 

“I can assure you, Mr. Cyrus, we try to bring God into our work.” You told him, trying to appeal to him. “The children we visit usually need prayer and God’s light the most.” 

Spencer gave you a sideways glance, clearly holding back a grin at how thick you were pouring it on - how much intense, feigned passion you said these words with. 

“Well, I can assure you that a lack of prayer and God’s light is certainly not an issue for the children here.” Cyrus said, giving you a clever little grin. He thought that you would simply interview the children, praise him for what a good job he had done, and then leave. “You can go and see the children whenever you like. They are up at the school, as I indicated in our phone call.” 

Nancy walked toward the school, and you paused before you followed. 

Before you walked off, you looked to Spencer. In a completely silent conversation that only worked so well because the two of you had been in so many tense situations before, thinking around UnSubs and planning miles around them before they could even know it, he gave you a small nod and you instantly knew what it meant. He had established a small bit of trust with Cyrus, so he would stick back and see what else he could get out of the man. 

You nodded back, and then - completely surprising yourself, you leaned in and kissed Spencer on the cheek. You were just playing the part, you told yourself. It’s not that it felt entirely instinctive to say goodbye to him with some kind of affection, like the many hugs you had given him before. It’s not that you felt so entirely scrutinized with Cryus’ piercing eyes on you, and you needed the anchor of Spencer’s touch. 

You were just playing the part. 

Spencer tried not to get caught on being kissed on the cheek like he was some blushing virgin, and instead, focused his attention back on Cyrus instead of watching you walk away. (Even though every single one of his instincts told him that he needed to keep a more careful eye on you because you both had to leave your guns in the car.) 

He took a step closer to where Cyrus was leaning on the concrete, and easily picked a topic of conversation. 

“Solar panels.” Reid said, motioning to the large devices sitting behind Cyrus on the grass. 

“Yes.” Cyrus nodded. “We’re completely self-sufficient here. Food, electricity, water. Benjamin Franklin said ‘God helps those who help themselves’.” He explained. “You look surprised.” 

“No, uh, impressed, actually.” Reid easily lied, trying to appeal to his ego. 

“Thank you.” Cyrus said. “Most men wouldn’t admit that.” 

“Well, I suppose that I’m not like most men.” Reid shrugged in return. 

“How long have you been married?” Cyrus asked, motioning toward Reid’s ‘wedding ring’. 

Reid panicked slightly, knowing that the two of you likely should have coordinated this story during the plane ride to Colorado so that your answers to these simple questions wouldn’t be different. But he just made up an answer and hoped that nobody else would ask you the same question and find out the deception. 

“Three years.” He said. “I’ve been very blessed.” 

He used the language purposefully, knowing that the simple phrase could get him on Cyrus’ good side. That, and he hoped it would draw the attention away from any possible signs of his blatant lie. 

“Your wife is very beautiful.” Cyrus commented. 

He gave a wicked smirk as he said this. It was a simple, fairly ‘innocent’ comment, but it was immediately off-putting to Spencer. It took everything in his body not to glare daggers at Cyrus or throw out some protective comment in return. He could only imagine what was going through Cyrus’ mind as he thought about you, and he hated even imagining it. 

Reid knew that it was a basic logical good, the instinct to protect you because you were his partner on this case and he was supposed to have your back. But it was also something more. Something in every fiber of his being that screamed you were his and no man should ever be thinking of you that way except for him. 

“Has it been a godly union?” 

He was lucky when Cyrus spoke again and distracted him from his mounting rage. 

“We try to be as godly as we can be.” Spencer took the simple, diplomatic answer. 

“Your wife didn’t take your last name.” Cyrus pointed out. 

Nancy had used your name on your false credentials because Hotch had only come up with the fake marriage idea the day before. There hadn’t been time to inform her about it and have ‘Reid’ put on your ID as your ‘married’ name. So he had introduced you by your name to keep everything consistent with the reuse. 

It did make Spencer wonder if you would keep your last name if the two of you ever did get married. It made him almost dizzy, thinking about you as ‘Mrs Reid’. Thinking about your kids having his name. Or your name, if that’s what you wanted. 

But naturally, he pushed past all those thoughts and formed an excuse. 

“Typically, married women aren’t very well perceived in our line of work.” He quickly excused. “She doesn’t even get to wear her ring that often. She couldn’t change her name on paperwork at our office because a working married woman… it’s heavily frowned upon.” 

“Well, I’d have to agree.” Cyrus grunted. “A woman shouldn’t be out working. A woman should be at home raising a family.” 

“I - I suppose you’re right.” Reid agreed through gritted teeth. 

He walked away toward the school before he got too angry again. 

… 

A few hours later, everything had gone to hell. 

Some authority - the police, the military, you didn’t even know - had charged into the Ranch shooting. In response, Cyrus and his followers had come into the school toting large semi-automatics asking you and Spencer if you knew about a raid. 

You didn’t. You wish you had known about a raid. You would have warned Hotch and gotten them to call it off. You certainly would not have been there while it was happening. 

When they had pointed those guns in your face and forced you into the tunnels - it wasn’t very difficult to pretend to be Spencer’s wife then. Cowering in the bunker, confused and scared, you flung your arms around his waist almost instinctively, and he buried his nose in the top of your hair as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders like a shield, promising you that everything was going to be okay. 

Whispered to you like that, coming from him - it was almost easier to believe. Even with the chaos going on around you and the fear pumping through you in response. 

Nancy had run off trying to get them to surrender and did not come back. You had a feeling that you knew what that meant. 

And now, with the kids from the school ‘evacuated’ into the church, you were being held in the cellar at gunpoint. They had forcefully separated you and Spencer, making you sit in chairs at opposite sides of the room.

Spencer was fidgeting. His eyes kept flickering from the door, to you, to the man standing beside you holding the very large gun. 

You knew that you had ugly tear tracks down your face, and oddly enough - you wanted nothing more than to be back in his arms. As you were forced to sit there, just a few feet across the room away from him - you ached for it. 

There was a very large possibility that you were going to die today. And you selfishly needed the comfort of being in the arms of someone familiar - someone safe. Someone you knew would never hurt you. Someone who had made you laugh with dumb science jokes and puns for the last five years that you had worked together with him. 

When Cyrus charged back into the room with two men flanking his sides, you and Spencer stiffened up once again. 

“God will forgive me for what I’m about to do.” Cyrus announced to the room, presenting a handgun from his belt. 

Your insides quaked, and Spencer’s eyes grew wide. 

You couldn’t contain the fearful whimper that erupted from the back of your throat when he raised that gun and placed it near the middle of Spencer’s forehead. You clasped a hand tightly over your mouth to keep yourself from crying out in protest, knowing that would only make things worse. 

“Which one of you is the FBI Agent?” Cyrus asked firmly. 

Which ‘one’? 

So he knew that you were undercover, that you had lied about your job titles - but he thought that only one of you had done so. Where the hell was he getting his information? 

“I - I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Spencer told him quietly, looking him in the eye the entire time. 

You hoped that his stutter could be passed off as nervousness from the gun being pointed in his face, and wouldn’t be pointed to as deception. 

“Which one of you is it?” Cyrus pressed. 

“We are not FBI Agents.” Spencer said, more confidently this time. “We are Child Victim Interview Experts. We were only sent here to ensure the wellbeing of the children. Nothing more, nothing less.” 

Well, that last part wasn’t a lie. 

“You’re lying.” Cyrus told him, entirely confident in this. “God expells those who lie, devils in sheep’s clothing.” 

There was a tense moment, and then Cyrus cocked the gun. 

Spencer didn’t flinch. You resisted the urge to scream. 

“Proverbs 12:22 says: ‘The Lord detests lying lips, but he delights in those who tell the truth.’” Cyrus said, actually citing scripture this time. 

He was giving Spencer one last chance to tell the truth. As if using the bible verse to say that his punishment would be lesser if he simply told the truth now. 

Spencer didn’t take the bait. 

“I’m not lying.” Spencer said firmly. “What? You think I wouldn’t know if - if my wife was an FBI Agent? This is the woman I wake up next to every single morning, the woman I go to sleep next to every single night, we work together every single day, we-” 

Cyrus interrupted Spencer’s ranting with a sharp hit to the face, pistol whipping him across the cheek. 

This caused Spencer to go flying off the chair, and you couldn’t help when you let out a wounded cry. It took everything in you not to jump out of your own chair and rush to Spencer where he had collapsed onto the ground, clutching his cheek. 

“Someone is going to tell me the truth.” Cyrus said gruffly. 

“It must have been Nancy!” You said, the idea finally popping into your head. 

You seemed to be more clever with the pressure of Spencer’s life being threatened. Cyrus stared you down, turning his attention fully toward you now. You caught Spencer’s eye for a moment and he gave you a small nod - as if to say ‘yes, keep going with that’. 

“The woman we came in with! Nancy!” You reasoned, continuing to point the finger at the woman you had to assume was dead. “We - we just met her today. Our boss introduced us to her, but we had never met before that. If she was FBI, we had no clue. We swear.” 

Cyrus turned to you then, and tightly pressed the barrel of his gun into your forehead. You could feel the imprint of it so tight in your skin that it hurt, and you could only lean away so far before threatening to knock the chair backwards. 

“It’s very convenient to pin this crime on someone who isn’t here.” He grunted at you. 

“It’s the truth.” You sniffled out quietly. 

“Hmm.” Cyrus hummed thoughtfully, and then, much to your surprise, he removed the gun barrel from your forehead. 

You barely had a moment to breathe in relief before he began skimming the gun down your neck, touching the metal whisper-gentle across your bare skin - clearly taunting you. It was something that made your whole body stiff with alarm, and caused Spencer’s eyes to go wide once again.

“Perhaps I should strip you naked to ensure that you’re not wearing a wire.” Cyrus said, teasing the gun along the buttons at the front of your cardigan. 

You held back a sob at the thought of it - at the idea that he could make you do almost anything for the fear of you being shot. Truthfully, you were more afraid of what he might do to Spencer if you didn’t comply, but it was all the same in your mind now. His life was just as valuable as yours, and you would do whatever it took to protect him.

Before Cyrus could take these threats any further, a heroic voice intervened. 

“That’s enough!” Spencer yelled. 

He gathered himself off the floor and oddly enough, none of the men moved to stop him as he came to stand beside Cyrus. Perhaps they didn’t see him as a threat. Perhaps it was because Cyrus didn’t bark any orders at them to stop him. He was entirely unflinching, keeping his focus on you and keeping his gun held between your breasts as Spencer crowded into his personal space, trying to press himself between you and the awful man. 

“We’ve told you everything that we know.” Spencer told him lowly, his voice heaving with well controlled anger. It was something that you had rarely ever heard from him. 

Cyrus kept his eyes locked on you, so Spencer continued. 

“We don’t know anything about the FBI - we have a simple job advocating for children who have been abused. That is it. We came here to investigate a most likely false claim against someone in your community and we truly didn’t mean to get caught up in all of this.” He said firmly, clearly trying to appeal to Cyrus. “So I suggest you get that gun away from my wife before you and I truly have a problem.” 

Spencer’s voice was dark, so thick with rage. More pent up rage than you had ever heard from him when he was talking to any suspect, people who had done the worst of the worst. Something about Cyrus threatening you had truly boiled his insides. 

The way he said the words ‘my wife’ - growling it out like he was a feral animal and this threat to you had activated every single one of his protective instincts. Hearing it made something inside of you yearn for him on such a deep level that you didn’t know was possible. You wanted to feel that kind of protection cast over you every single day. It made you feel invincible, having Spencer watch over you like that. 

Cyrus lowered the gun then, and Spencer grabbed your arm as you dissolved into hysterical tears. Instinctively, he lifted you up into his arms. You thought that you heard Cyrus mumble out ‘my apologies’ as he left the room - but he was barely on your radar. Your entire world became narrowed down to nothing but Spencer, your safety net as he built a wall of protection around you. 

He used his height to block you from seeing anything but him, letting you push your face into his chest as you cried. He wrapped you in his arms once again, letting you feel truly safe for a few moments as you sobbed into the fabric of his sweater. Your arms clutched desperately at his waist, needing to keep a hold on him - needing to ensure that he didn’t leave you. 

“Hey, shh. Shh. It’s okay.” He said, leaving gentle kisses on the top of your forehead and your hair, rubbing across your back with one hand, comforting you in the only way he could in those moments. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

Of course, he wanted to break down too. But he had to be strong for you. 

“Spencer,” You called his name in an utterly wounded voice, pulling away from his chest to look up at him. 

When you saw his injury up close - a sharp, purple-red bruise that was blooming across his cheek, it looked so utterly painful. Your insides ached at the thought that he had taken a blow for you. You hated to imagine what more they could have done to him if they had not believed your lies. 

You instinctively reached a hand up to touch it and he caught your fingers halfway, instead, gently grasping your hand and laying it on his chest. The intimacy felt so oddly rehearsed - so worn in, so ‘normal’. It felt like you had been married to Spencer for years. Like it wasn’t a play at all. 

Your two souls had been calling out to each other for years, just waiting for the dam to break. But you couldn’t quite put it into words - not like that. 

“It’s okay.” He said quietly, knowing you were horrified by the injury. 

He was so gentle, so comforting, so calm. Everything the men pointing guns at you were not. Unlike Cyrus - Spencer Reid was a true blessing from God. 

You couldn’t hold yourself back then. 

You surged up and kissed him, fully embracing his mouth with yours in a kiss. Though it was so sudden, it was something he easily returned. The kiss so full of urgency, so needy, so passionate. Like he was trying to tell you that it was okay, that he would protect you no matter what. 

He would protect you because you belonged to him. 

In those moments, the two of you were basically alone. One of Cryus’ men was guarding the door, watching on boredly. But Cyrus was off in the church, funneling people in to prepare for his ‘loyalty’ test. It didn’t matter if he saw you kissing or not - it wouldn’t have sold the reuse of you being married any better. 

This was just for the two of you. This was comfort. 

When you pulled back from the kiss, Spencer looked stunned, almost as if he couldn’t believe what had happened. You didn’t give him time to question it. 

“Thank you.” You said quietly. 

It was twofold:

Thank you for protecting me. Thank you for giving me comfort. 

Spencer didn’t have too much time to marinate in the meaning of the kiss before Cyrus’ men came back and fetched the two of you, wanting you to observe the loyalty test. 

… 

After the mock poisoning (which Spencer figured out rather quickly, making you admire his cleverness once again), Cyrus kept you and Spencer in the church with a few of his closest, most loyal followers while all of the low level followers dispersed back to their homes. 

You and Spencer were lingering in the back quietly while Cyrus was on the other end of the room, talking to his men about how to proceed. The plans for their ‘final stand’. 

“We need to get some kind of signal to the others.” Spencer whispered quietly. “Maybe they’ll take pity on you and let you go if-” He swallowed sharply, cutting himself off abruptly. Oddly enough, he didn’t want to voice whatever was on his mind. 

“If what?” You probed. You wondered what the hell you could possibly be thinking. 

“If we tell them that you’re pregnant.” He said, whispering so lowly that you almost didn’t catch the words. 

You rolled your eyes sharply at this. 

You had gotten married and had kids all in one day. What a miracle. 

(In those moments, clouded by fear, you couldn’t see it for what it truly was - Spencer blatantly revealing his unconscious desires to have a baby with you.) 

“We could convince them to release you. As a show of good faith. A pregnancy would be good leverage in that. You know how religious people are about fetuses-” Spencer reasoned. 

“Yeah, and what if they give me a test?” You probed, punching a large hole in his logic. “We don’t know what kind of infirmary they have here. They obviously believe in modern technology. What if they want to give me an ultrasound to check on the fetus after the stress of the day? To prove that they did no harm to the precious unborn child,” 

Spencer was easily caught on this point. If they examined you and found that you weren’t pregnant, all the lies would fall apart. 

“Well… what if we tell them that you have a baby at home that you need to get back to?” Spencer reasoned, jumping to the next logical conclusion in his mind. “It’ll likely garner the same level of pity.” 

“Your imaginary sperm is powerful, isn’t it?” You whispered back sharply. Spencer rolled his eyes this time. But he didn’t redact the plan as unreasonable, so you continued on. “Okay, what do I even do when I get out there? I’m not gonna be of any use to the tactical team. We don’t know what Cyrus’ final play is yet.” 

Truthfully, you couldn’t bear to be separated from Spencer. Knowing that he was inside, potentially being beaten up more, potentially being shot and bleeding out from a wound without you knowing - it would kill you with stress. You need to be by his side. You needed to know that he was okay. 

“Has God blessed your union with any children?” Cyrus appeared behind you suddenly. 

You wondered if he had heard you say the word ‘pregnancy’ or if this was just a random topic that had come up in his mind. 

His sudden appearance behind you caused you to whip around and crowd into the comfort of Spencer’s arms again because you were frightened. Naturally, Spencer wrapped his sheltering touch around your shoulders. Your back was gently pressed into Spencer’s front, his arm shielding you protectively as it was wrapped around your chest, holding you with his hand on one of your shoulders, unconsciously stroking his thumb across the fabric of your cardigan. The position had you both facing Cyrus, watching the fan in an offensive way. 

And of course, Spencer didn’t miss a beat. 

“Yes.” Spencer answered easily. “We have two kids at home. A boy and a girl. Iris and Hugo. Iris is almost three years old and Hugo is eleven months. His first birthday is coming up in June.” 

You knew that Spencer could be very good at talking off a suspect’s ear under pressure, but when you heard him rattle off these ‘facts’ so easily, it hit you. 

This wasn’t simply statistics or physiological knowledge - this was a very elaborate backstory for your supposedly real marriage. Perhaps he had thought about all of it on the car ride up (which was odd not to share it with you, in case Cyrus asked you a similar question and your answer didn’t match up with Spencer’s). 

But if you weren’t mistaken, this wasn’t simply a backstory for your fake marriage during the undercover mission. This was a fantasy of his. Those were names he had lovingly chosen for your imaginary children - kids he had dreamed up in his head and wanted to be real. 

Your heart ached at the thought of it. You found yourself missing a set of children that weren’t even real. (And distantly, wanting to jump his bones to make it a reality.)

“Tell me, Mr. Reid, would you find it so shameful for your daughter to marry young?” Cyrus asked. 

You found it odd to hear Cyrus call Spencer ‘Mr. Reid’, but you realized that he hadn’t introduced himself as ‘Doctor’ in this setting. You held your tongue when you felt the need to correct him as you had so many other people, wanting Spencer to receive his proper title. 

Your mind almost couldn’t focus on the question that Cyrus had asked. Of course, he was trying to get Spencer to stroke his ego once again. Basically admitting that the whole reason the two of you had come here was true - he was being vastly inappropriate with a young member of the church, and getting away with it. And he saw nothing wrong with it. 

And he was trying to get an outsider to admit that he saw nothing wrong with it too. 

When there was a moment of silence - Reid obviously torn on how to answer the question, Cyrus continued. 

“Is there really something so wrong with a blooming young woman marrying a man who will protect her under God’s laws?” He probed, his voice so entirely confident. Clearly confident that he was right. 

“Well, I’m not sure if I would let my daughter get married so young.” Reid said, finally speaking up. “I just know that I would want her to marry a man that would protect her, and be the best possible fit for her. Someone who would cherish her and be good to her no matter what.” 

His answer made you swoon. You reached up and gently gripped his forearm in response, giving a light squeeze to show your approval. He leaned in and kissed the back of your head - dizzyingly, you were imagining him walking your imaginary daughter down the aisle before you had even gotten married yourself. 

Maybe it was being so close to death, being threatened in such dangerous territory that was causing your life to accelerate at light speed in your mind. If you were going to lose everything, you might as well enjoy the escapism of a fake life with a beautiful man in your mind instead of being stuck on the heart pounding terror of being held hostage, right? 

Surprisingly, his words drew a smile from Cyrus. 

“You’re a protective father, aren’t you?” Cyrus asked. 

“Of course.” Reid confirmed. 

“I can always admire that in a man.” Cyrus nodded. “A man should always pride himself on protecting his family.” 

There was another moment of pause, and you were hoping that the topic had been dropped completely. 

“Do you have a picture of your children with you?” Cyrus asked. 

You wondered if - in a different version of reality, where you and Spencer really were married, where Hugo and Iris really did exist - if you had a picture of them in your pocket, would Cyrus only be asking this so he could use the picture to taunt the two of you? What other purpose would he have for knowing what your children looked like? 

“Unfortunately, no.” You answered. “I keep my family pictures on my desk. In my office. We - we’ve just been praying to get back to them safely.” 

Cyrus seemed perturbed at you mentioning that you had an office. Something dark flickered over his features for a moment and then disappeared. 

“Well… if it is right, God will grant you that safe passage.” Cyrus said. 

Just when you truly thought the conversation was done, he said something to you that entirely grinded under your skin. 

“I find it entirely odd that a mother of two young children spends her days working a job where she takes care of other people’s children, rather than staying at home with her own youngins where she belongs.” 

He said, using that same entirely confident, righteous tone that he always did. Even though you were not really a working mother, you had a hard time not boiling with anger at the sexism ripe in his statement. 

“How much must you be missing of your sweet angels lives to instead partake in the horrors of devils you shouldn’t have to witness.” 

Of course. 

You had a hard time not rolling your eyes at this or saying something harsh that would set him off. Instead, you reached up to Spencer’s arm around your shoulder, squeezing his fingers, trying to keep your patience.

“I’ll have you know that Y/N is an amazing mother.” Spencer piped up, knowing that Cyrus respected him enough as a man that he wouldn’t beat him simply for speaking up. “Her nurturing and caring makes her infinitely better at her job.” 

Again, you knew that there was so much personal truth in Spencer’s words. He thought that you would make an amazing mother to his children - at least theoretically. He was entirely firm in that conviction. And he thought that your natural caring made you amazing at the job you did as a Profiler. He knew this from the quality of work he witnessed you doing every single day. 

You didn’t know it - but it was just one of the many things that had caused him to fall in love with you. 

Oddly enough, Cyrus’ words prodded at something deep inside of you. It made you imagine a life for yourself where you weren’t spending your days witnessing horrors from unspeakable devils - but instead, at home, looking out for Spencer’s imaginary children. 

You would have said it was the fear of the day, clouding your mind. But maybe it was the clarity of being so close to death that made you realize what - and who - you truly wanted out of life. 

… 

Hours later, after some of the hostages had been released (the ‘non-believers’ who had failed the loyalty test), Cyrus had requested that some food be sent up. Spencer gave you a sharp look when he saw the message written on one of the takeout lids. 

The team would be storming in to end the hold-out at 3am. You had to somehow ensure the safety of the hostages by then. 

Obviously, the fake pregnancy idea was still warping through Spencer’s mind, but you had come up with some much better. 

“Cyrus,” You called out his name gently, getting his attention. “You said that you have a nursery here?” 

It had come up, during his long winded bragging about how perfect the Ranch was. Something about how mothers didn’t have to raise their children alone. The children were raised as more of a ‘group effort’ and women took ‘shifts’ in the nursery, allowing the women to rest or get chores done in the interim. 

“Yes, we do.” He nodded. 

Spencer stared at you with his jaw set, wondering what you were doing but not daring to speak. 

“I - I’ve been missing my children dearly. I was wondering if I could go to your nursery and see if they need any help? It would do my soul good to be around young ones right now. After all the commotion of these days.” You spoke meekly, trying to play the part of the shaken up, dainty woman well. 

Which was too difficult, seeing as you were playing up the fear you had already experienced. 

He grinned. It was a rather menacing smile, and you tried your hardest not to show any further fear, or disgust. 

“That sounds like a splendid idea.” He nodded. “Christopher, why don’t you escort her down to the nursery and then come back? We need you here for our final preparations.” 

You were finally falling to those gender roles that he had been pushing on you since you had arrived. He didn’t suspect a thing. He simply thought that you were a God fearing woman falling to your natural womanly instincts, needing to care for children lest your womb shrivel up and you die. 

Spencer rose from his seat and Cyrus stopped him. 

“Just your wife.” He said, putting a hand in front of Spencer’s chest to stop him. “There are still some things you and I need to discuss. Man to man.” 

You went over to Spencer and didn’t hesitate to plant a kiss firmly on his mouth, which he returned with vigor. This one lasted only a moment - it was something precious for the two of you. You didn’t need to put on some pointed show for the men in the room. 

“It’s okay.” You told Spencer quietly, brushing your fingers gently over his uninjured cheek. 

You could tell that he was dying to ask you what your plan was. But he kept the words trapped in his throat, unable to speak in front of the many temperamental villains lurking about. 

“Come on.” Christopher grunted. 

Spencer gave you a longing look as you left. He didn’t want to think it, but as he watched your figure retreat out the door, he feared that it would be the last time he ever saw you. 

… 

Your plan worked flawlessly. 

Getting to the nursery meant that you had unsupervised access to the women and children, especially away from Cyrus’ prying ears. Because you were a ‘delicate’ woman, nobody suspected you of having ulterior motives. You easily found a crack in Kathy, Jessica’s mother. You spotted her as the one who had made the original 9-1-1 call, wanting to get her daughter away from Cyrus. You convinced her to help you get everyone out, and you felt intense relief when you were met with a familiar face in the cellar as everyone escaped through the tunnels. 

“Where’s Reid?” Morgan easily asked you, glancing behind your shoulder as if waiting for him to appear. 

“He’s still up at the church.” You told him. “I had to separate off to help get the women and children out-” 

“Go on, we have to get you out!” Morgan urged, trying to gently usher you along. 

“We have to go get Reid!” You argued, trying to turn around. 

“Go, go on, I’ll go get Reid!” He told you. 

You were about to argue back, but you were cut off by a scuffle behind you. 

Jessica was yelling about Cyrus - how her mother had betrayed her, tricked her. 

Morgan pushed Kathy toward you and ran off screaming for Jessica. You took Kathy’s arm, gently convincing her that everything was going to be okay as you guided her the rest of the way out. You had to focus on this, convincing yourself that everything was going to be okay. You had to tell yourself that Derek was going to get Spencer out - that they were both going to be okay. 

When you got outside, you were hyper focused on marching away, taking a path away from the church as directed by the officers in charge. You froze in your tracks when you heard it - an earth shattering boom. The ground beneath your feet shook. You felt a puff of hot air swell to touch your back. 

You let go of Kathy’s arm and whipped around, and you couldn’t even pay attention to where she went. You almost thought you heard her weeping, but your mind couldn’t process it as your eyes were glossed in bright orange flame. 

It was the church. 

“Spencer?” You gasped quietly. “Spencer!” 

You couldn’t help it, but you began to run toward it. Your feet carried you faster than you could think, and before you got more than a few feet across the ground, you felt a sharp grip on your upper arm. 

“L/N!” 

Hotch’s voice, sounding far too distant for the position he held right behind you, viciously gripping onto you as you fought against him, trying to get toward the fire - trying to get to Spencer. 

“Hey! Hey! Stop it!” Hotch tried to order you around, tried to get you to stand down. 

He got a hand around your waist, and you continued to kick like a wild horse, fighting against his grip as hot tears poured down your face. 

“He’s in there!” You sobbed. “Spencer is still in there.” 

“Calm. Down.” Hotch ordered sharply. 

You collapsed back into him sobbing, all of the fight leaving your muscles at once. You couldn’t fake the reality in front of you. 

“You running in there and getting hurt isn’t going to change anything.” Hotch told you quietly, a somehow distant murmur into your ear. 

Through the blur of your tears and the sharp orange glow, you saw the shape of two bodies. You heard coughing as someone emerged from the blast, hobbling down the stairs at the front of the church. You forced your eyes open wider, trying to see who it was, and then: 

“Y/N!” Spencer called out your name gruffly through the smoke he had inhaled, and you easily shucked off Hotch’s grip to race up the stairs to get to him. 

He was leaning on Morgan for support and you were worried that he was hurt. But the moment you were close enough, he tore himself away from Morgan and the two of you met in the middle. In a pattern that was easily developing, you fell into the safety of his arms, holding him tight enough to bruise him - never wanting to let go. 

“You’re so stupid, you’re so stupid! Why would you do that to me?” 

You sobbed out, gripping both sides of his face, staring into his eyes, needing the recognition that he was right there, right in front of you. 

He stared back with glassiness - intense fear, adrenaline, and something small that told you he was thankful for you, and needed you now more than ever. 

Of course, your words were simple anger at the situation, not at Spencer himself. The terror of thinking that he was dead still pumping through your veins, causing you to shake. 

“I know.” He said quietly. “I love you.” 

His voice wrapped around the words so tenderly - it was the most sincere declaration you had ever heard from him. As if to say ‘I know how much that scared you. I know what this ordeal has done to us and I only meant it more because of how scared I am’. 

“I love you too.” The words flew from your lips so naturally it hurt. You took a moment to recover, entirely shocked by your own lips. And then, you only found the need to say it growing more inside of you. “Spencer, I love you.” 

You pulled him toward you with the grip you had on his face, and he easily met you in one of the most earth shattering kisses you had ever experienced. 

It was no longer a show, it was no longer about displaying the fake marriage for someone else’s benefit - if it had ever been about that in the first place. It was about the two of you. It was about feeling that comfort, that safety. It was about the fact that your two souls were drawn together since the day you had met. The fact that you had always felt safe with each other. You had always been the other person’s shelter from the storm. 

And you poured every ounce of those feelings into that kiss. 

You combed your fingers through Spencer’s hair, taking a harsh grip on the back of it, holding him there so he couldn’t pull away from your lips. He wrapped his arms around your waist, fisting the back of your sweater. Both of you entirely refused to come up for oxygen, not even caring who saw the epically passionate, public display of your love for each other. 

Unbeknownst to you, Morgan and Hotch exchanged a look with raised brows as it happened. You and Spencer didn’t care. You were barely perceiving the world around you as the two of you kissed. 

“You know if you’re not careful, people are actually gonna think you two are married.” Morgan said, being his usual sarcastic self. 

Rather than pulling away from Spencer’s lips to sass him back - you simply flipped Derek off over Spencer’s shoulder. 

On the ride home, JJ handed Derek five dollars. He had the over/under that the two of you would get together before the end of the year. JJ said that it wouldn’t happen for another five years, at least. Derek handed the fiver to Emily when she reminded him that the ‘fake marriage’ bit had actually been her idea. 

When Emily and JJ relayed the story to Penelope, she squealed so loudly into the phone that JJ dropped it. 

Hotch pulled you aside later and warned you that the fake rings were just cheap costume jewelry that Garcia had gotten and they would tarnish soon if you kept wearing them. He also recommended that you and Spencer put in the paperwork with HR if you were ‘serious’ about the relationship. You knew that it was him wishing the two of you his best. 

A few days later when you came into work and found the HR request for an update of relationship status sitting on your desk, already signed by Spencer, you couldn’t help but to smile.

...

A/N: okay, I do have to admit, the ending kind of sucks imo (like the last few paragraphs) because I highly resisted the urge to end this with 'baby making' smut where y/n is like if 'you want kids for real, then we can have kids', and then Spencer just goes nuts. because I did like the more cheesy/romantic love confession ending, and I was getting way too tired to write smut for this. idk if I should do that 'x amount of reblogs for part 2' thing or if I'm just happy with this being a standalone oneshot?? idk. if people ask for a part 2, then I will set a reblog goal for it. and I will work on a part 2 for it after Lesson Two is posted.

[froggywritesstuff]

pros and cons | rise!donatello

ship/pairing: rise!Donatello x male!reader

fandom: rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

warnings: fluff, cuddling, mentions of a.i., not proofread

word count: 796

A/N: idk man. 18+ people DNI

There are a lot of cons to dating a mutant turtle who lives in the sewers. One, being the fact that he lives in the sewers, and you have a sense of smell. Among others was your friends constantly nagging you to introduce them to him, or to at least show them a picture of your boyfriend that they were getting more convinced everyday that he was an a.i. bot.

Although the list of cons might have looked like an extremely long list to anyone else, you focused on the pros. In your eyes, the cons were but a small hill compared to the mountain of pros. To name a few, having a really smart boyfriend meant never having to go to a phone repair shop. Considering how many times you’ve dropped your phone in the lair, this was a very big pro. And with a mutant turtle boyfriend apparently came three mutant turtle brothers that you had become fast friends with.

Being friends with them, there wasn't much difference between your friendship with them and your friendships with non-mutant people. Aside from the secrecy, the sewers, and all the weird places they'd take you and/or tell you about. You did have sleepovers though. They were always fun. It’s just less fun when you're sleeping in your super smart boyfriend's bed and he's suddenly super busy super late at night with some super smart and super loud project.

Now you could cover your ears with your pillow and count a million sheep while you will yourself to sleep, ignoring the sounds from Donnie's lab and trying to gaslight yourself into thinking it wasn't that loud. However, leaving the lonely bed to sit with and annoy him sounded much more fun. After little contemplation, you slide out of bed, trudging over toward where Donnie sat in his chair. With no explanation, you flopped into his lap, readjusting to make the both of you comfortable. Donnie paused what he was doing, pulling his goggles over his head and staring down at you.

”…Hello.”

He felt you smile into the crook of his neck, followed by the vibrations of your muffled voice, “Hi.”

”What are you doing?” He asked, idly continuing his work but still giving you his attention.

You stay quiet, answering with a simple shrug.

”Are you gonna go back to sleep?”

"That's what I'm tryna do."

"Then go back to the bed?" He suggested as if it were obvious, to which you scoffed at.

”Uh, rude.”

Donnie rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t deny the smile tugging on his lips as he talked with you, “Y/N, I doubt that my lap is a better place to sleep than the bed, in fact, I’m almost certain of it.”

A frown formed on your lips, and you shook your head, “Keyword; almost. So no, I will not be leaving. I just got comfortable. And you’re nice and cool.”

"I assume I don't have to warn you of this, but it's gonna be loud."

"I know," you said, "It's still loud when I sleep in bed." Donnie's shoulders sagged at the realisation that he had woken you up. You felt the subtle movement, and looked up at him to meet his eyes, "If you like, actually want me to, I can go."

"No," he shook his head, "You can stay."

"Are you sure? You're not just saying that?"

"I'm sure Y/N." he smiled at you.

A sigh of relief left your lips at the confirmation that your physical touch wasn't making him uncomfortable, and you let your head rest against his plastron, "Nice, I'm super tired and I don't wanna walk all the way to bed."

"I understand, that sounds so hard." Donnie drawled, a rare occurrence of him using sarcasm.

"Right? Can I sleep like this every time I sleep over? Wait, don't answer that, I've made up my mind and I wanna."

"Sigh," Donnie sighed, but you could still see the slight smile on his lips, “Get a boyfriend they said. It’ll be fun, they said.”

"I heard that." 

"Good, it was intended for you to hear." he pulled his goggles down, and handed you a pair of noise cancelling headphones. Thanking him, you placed them over your ears, yawning as you readjusted to a more comfortable position.

You fell asleep shortly after that, and woke up in bed, cuddled up to Donnie. He was still sleeping soundly, and judging by the bags under his eyes, you assumed you got a better night's sleep than him. You smiled, cuddling closer to him as you let yourself sleep some more. There was truly no better feeling than waking up next to him. The pros definitely outweigh the cons when it comes to dating Donnie.

[otomiyaa]

nice.png

(literally how I named the image, couldn't think of something else)

Hi guys :') To my followers and tumblr friends, I'm really sorry if my sudden disappearance scared or upset you. It wasn't quite... planned. And today was a busy day and I needed some time to consider what I wanted to do.

Short version of the story:

My tumblr account got terminated for copyright infringement. A certain Mr. Green got me in unlucky trouble (ref 1, 2).

I won't get it back, or try to get it back. It's gone.

Needed a moment to consider 2 options: ask Mia to extend my dramatic farewell letter and stay gone, or make a new blog.

Not planning to post new writing here. I won't be using words like 'never' or 'forever' because I'm a known clown with things like this, but the intention is to no longer post fics. I will finish Tickletober on AO3 and then take a break from writing. So yes, I cancel the swiftscribbles event too, sorry!

When I opened my laptop, I could see my old blog in its final hour lmao (I found out about the loss on my phone). So that's what the snap is from on a fitting grave. It was fun while it lasted!

Long version of the story:

Losing my blog(s): My Tumblr account with main blog + sideblogs got terminated overnight, it was quite the surprise! I've either been reported or tracked by bots. The posts are a bunch of numbered URLs I can't open, but the message is clear: for including anime content, genshin impact or media from other sources (whether it's videos, screenshots, official art, gifs or even fanwork) you technically can get a strike. Upon googling the claimer I quickly found this first, and knew it was a lost cause. Although it feels shitty and unlucky, I am in no place to appeal. It's like when I used to make AMVs in the past, you never knew whether a song or even anime footage was going to give your YT account a copyright strike or even a ban, it was a gamble. I have lost YT accounts before, and now I lost the Tumblr one. With 7+ years of tickle trash content and a bunch of sideblogs. But oh well, moving on!

Starting a new blog: It was a serious consideration whether this was my ultimate chance to do what I've always said I wanted to do eventually - quit my blog. My first thought was to ask Mia to share my explanation and literal goodbye with you guys, and stick to my chaos of a Twitter account to indulge in fandom stuff. But then I thought of how happy Tumblr made me, even without the fic writing, but just.. reblogging things, getting random asks, shouting about life and of course, about tickles. I decided to make a new blog after all, but also decided the following:

The 7K+ milestone swiftscribbles event is cancelled, for which I apologize! The follower milestone, together with the motivation to write the fics, and even the asks with the requests I got, all died with my former blog.

I will see how long I can survive without posting a new fic or drabble. A loose headcanon or two might fly around sometime. And if necessary, a link to a new fic on AO3.

Tickletober? Hell yes I'll finish it, I would cringe in bed for 49 days at least if I would stop. I just won't post the fics here, but on AO3.

Reposting/reblogging my old works? Undecided at the moment but I'm tired and lazy. I don't feel too upset since most of my fics are still on AO3 at least and not completely gone.

Anyways, I'll see what happens and how long I can enjoy this nerfed version of blogging.

Surprisingly I'm not upset about losing my other blog, there were a lot of memories but it was also very cringe. I'm gonna be just as cringe here, but at least I feel cleansed.

For those who choose to follow me again, thank you, but please know that there won't be much original content coming from me, for now!:)

[anonymousbardd]

꒰ ☕ ꒱ ┊: The Life Created (4)

- The Second Trimester

↳ Various x FemReader

- The following characters are Gun Park, Goo Kim, Samuel Seo, Jake Kim, and Vin Jin

꒰ ☕ ꒱ ┊: Gun Park

Gun definitely was always with you during the second trimester, he wouldn't let you leave for check-ups without him.

He'd drive you around anywhere you need, and when you felt a bit embarrassed with your swollen breasts, he kept on reassuring you by placing gentle kisses on them when you're both alone.

Gun doesn't hesitate to cancel his plans just to be with you.

He'd always cook for you and make sure you're feeling alright.

Gun helps you throughout everything and you really couldn't do anything about it.

When you got your first ultrasound, he held your hand as he looked at the small little bean growing in your belly.

He called the baby "sweet pea".

He got a bit, and when I say a bit, I mean a BIT emotional when he found out bby was a girl.

Definitely didn't want to do the gender stereotypes and got her a blue crib with a sky themed nursery because according to him, baby is a gift from the heavens.

Would definitely name her Heaven or Angel if you let him.

When you got the photos of the ultrasound, he framed them and has a copy in his office.

꒰ ☕ ꒱ ┊: Goo Kim

Goo would speak to your belly, telling the baby stories about how cool daddy is

He'd always kiss your tummy and would gently lay his head on it.

When you went to the doctor's for a checkup and ultrasound, he cried when he first saw the baby.

He cried with you.

He also cried when he found out you'd be having twins, one boy one girl.

He said it's double the blessing that he deserves.

It's like your emotions are connected to his, like, he cried whenever you cried.

Goo is very gentle with you, and whenever you'd fall asleep on the couch, he'd be afraid to carry you because he worries that he might drop you.

When you wake up you'd smell freshly made food and it would always make you feel hungry.

Goo also helps you wash up your body whenever you're very tired, he doesn't like it when you try to do things while you're exhausted.

꒰ ☕ ꒱ ┊: Samuel Seo

Samuel definitely scheduled an appointment for a photoshoot for you.

He's husband material, he cooks, cleans, does everything in the house because he doesn't like it when you do them.

He goes with you to check-ups whenever he can, but the times he forgets he'd get you flowers and snacks then apologises for forgetting.

He spent a lot on baby clothes and even set up a nursery by himself.

You cried when you first saw it.

Much like Gun, he also got your ultrasound framed.

When he found out you'd be having a girl, he was really happy.

He's the type to treat baby girl like royalty.

Samuel cuddles up next to you, gently stroking your hair as you fall asleep in his arms.

The first time he placed his head on your belly, he felt a small kick from the baby.

He'd keep his head there and you'd gently play with his hair.

꒰ ☕ ꒱ ┊: Jake Kim

Jake brags about you and the baby to everyone, he makes sure that all of your doctor's appointments are met and would come with you.

One time, in the middle of a fight, he got a message from you asking him to help you out with something.

No hesitation, he left the fight leaving everyone confused.

You're his top priority, if someone tries to keep him from seeing you, well good luck.

Whenever he's not doing anything, he'd randomly give you kisses and make you laugh with his stupid puns.

He'll have Lua help out whenever he does need help.

Although he'd act tough and say he knows what he's doing at first.

He was really happy to hear that you'd be having a bot.

He's 100% going to teach him how to play basketball and not to treat women badly.

Jake's sad because you guys can't really make love with eachother, but he doesn't let it bother him because he knows it's dangerous for little bean.

꒰ ☕ ꒱ ┊: Vin Jin

He was definitely trying this time.

He'd ask if he could help you in anyway, he'd put effort in trying to be there.

He'll do things he doesn't usually do like cooking, cleaning, basically all the house chores.

He'd ask for Mary's advice and he listens more.

Although he complains, he doesn't let you do much around.

He'd forget to come to doctor's appointments, but he'd have a movie night prepared.

When he first saw the photos of your ultrasound he thought you guys would be having 4 babies.

The reality hit him shortly.

When he found out you'd be having a boy he was really excited.

He wanted to teach him how to fight.

It was discussed early on not to teach the child fight.