#I felt like a genius putting these thoughts together

[jkl-fff]

Ford, solemnly: Now that we're free ... Please don't hold it against Dipper that he locked us in a room together to try to make us get along.

Norman: I wasn't going to. Like, I'm not thrilled about it, but I'm not mad, either. Just mildly annoyed. It's another one of his antics. But why does it matter so much to him?

Ford: *sigh* Dipper reminds me of my younger self in a lot of ways. Good ways and bad ways. We both have a tendency to be ... obsessive and get swept up in our own excitement, for example, even to the point of being irrational despite our minds being practically hard-wired for analytical thought. And neither of us deals well with perceived rejection or betrayal.

Norman: But I didn't reject or betray him. I only said that I didn't really like you.

Ford: Yes, but like I said earlier, we're both very important to him. He sees me as a mentor and maybe ever as a role model, he sees you as his best friend--

Norman, surprised and pleased: H-he said that? He called me his "best friend"?

Ford: He's hasn't used that exact phrase, but you don't need 12 Ph.D.s to figure it out. The point is, we're both very important parts of ... of his life, of his psyche, of who he identifies with and how he sees himself. I imagine he perceives someone not liking either of us as not liking a part of himself. Hence a perceived rejection.

Norman: ... Yeah, I guess I can see that. It makes no sense, not really, but also it does sorta make sense for Dipper. He once spent a whole afternoon trying to concince me that I should like Wes Anderson, even though I just don't.

Ford: *shrug* I did say we can be irrational despite being so analytical ... I'm glad you're not mad at him. Please reassure him of that. By all means, be firm with him about not locking you in rooms and such. I'm not saying to put up with shit--Oh, damn, can I say shit in front of a child?

Norman, wryly: I won't tell a fucking soul if you won't.

Ford: Ha! Well, as I was saying, don't put up with his shit. But please reassure him this whole ... episode hasn't changed anything between you. You're still friends, even when you don't agree. I think that would be ... would be very good for him. It'll help him grow up into someone who doesn't remind me of my younger self.

Norman: ... Do I have to give the gun back now?

Ford: No, you can borrow it for the day. Have fun, just don't shoot any people or any animals or any property that I personally care about.

Norman: Cool! But ... *sigh* Okay, why did you say that thing just now about it being good for him? Gonna bug me 'til I understand.

Ford, wistfully: ... Do you know how many friends I've had in my whole life? Truly close friends, who I felt I could be truly honest with about who and what I am?

Norman, taken aback: Uh ... This isn't about you being probably bisexual, is it?

Ford: What? No--Well, maybe, I guess--

Norman: Is it going to be about Dipper being probably bisexual?

Ford, exasperated: It's about isolation, you spikey-haired ... child. I 've had 3. One was my brother, who I turned my back on because of anger, resentment, and self-absorption. I got so swept up in obsession and feeling betrayed by him over an accident, that I let it cost me my only real friend at the time. One was McGucket, who I pushed away because of obsession and a need to be a genius and a pioneer of science. I got so swept up in feeling like he was rejecting me over ... Oh, it hardly matters now, given how unstable I was. The point is, it cost me the only real friend I had again.

Norman: And the third one?

Ford, haunted: ... That was Bill. Who did actually betray and reject me--who never actually was my friend, for all that I believed he was at the time. But that didn't exactly help my fear of betrayal and rejection, as you can imagine. And all of it happened ultimately because my own obsession and tendency to be swept up in my own excitement drove me towards isolation.

Norman: Which you don't want to happen to Dipper.

Ford: Yes. I understand he also has struggled to make friends over the years, only really having Mabel for so long. Isolation again. But you Mystery Kids, with you in particular as his best friend, Norman, have helped him so much by genuinely befriending him. That's helping him learn to be more ... more grounded and more stable and ... and good. More good--better, I mean--than I was. Which I want. I want him to be better than I was. So ... yes.

Norman: Yeah.

Ford: *nods* Good.

Norman: *nods* Great ... I'm, um, gonna go blast something now.

Who knew all it took to solve your personal grievances was giving a small child an unregistered high-tech firearm?

[bennydwight]

Saw the "Libby in Chairman's Robe" piece just now, and I wanna ask, how do you think Molly would look, and feel, in that robe?

Okay okay okay Koskela I’m so sorry but you opened the floodgates here.

I know the intention here was a cute picture of Molly playing dress up but for some reason I saw your ask and my mind exploded with enough red string to choke a conspiracy theorist and I have to get all this out somewhere, so buckle in folks because I’m about to jump to more conclusions than a paranoid frog and it’s going to get long

Molly and the Cloak

We begin with the previous Chairman. An intimidating looking dude, meant to serve as a direct opposite character-creation-wise to the ghosts immediately around him. He’s physically taller, built like an inverted triangle as a contrast to the characters he usually hangs out with

(Scratch is a rectangle don’t @ me)

But there’s one more interesting physical difference he has with every other ghost we’ve been introduced to:

Underneath the cloak, the Chairman is bone. In fact, the bone motif seems to be a large part of his design, since his facial area is shaped loosely like a skull.

Neither of which ghosts have.

And we know it isn’t a style transformation because when Scratch uses the cloak, he’s still the same underneath (no bones about it!)

And since skeletons haven’t been introduced to part of series canon (maybe they’re planning that for season three), we can only deduce that there was once a human under the hood. And it’s not a typical way for a human to exist in the Ghost World, since the default form is obviously ectoplasmic and not skeletal. So what might’ve caused the Chairman to differ so greatly from his peers?

(This is where the red string comes out.)

Before we dive into the next point, let’s take a look at some of the other traits of the Chairman for the purposes of this headcanon/theory/alternate universe/whatever:

He never speaks

He rarely moves, only in stiff, disjointed jerks

He gains power and sustenance from misery

We’ll get to that last one later, but for now let’s focus on the first two. We’ve seen these symptoms in another concept already introduced to us: possession. (Speaking less so than moving, but we do know there's at least a tonal difference.) So if the human that was once the Chairman is dead, why isn’t the ghost under the robe? What happened to it? The thing that makes it tick, the soul, the free will, is gone, leaving only the physical body behind. You could argue, sure, that the human died, the ghost went on to have fun ghosty adventures, and its body was left behind for something else to pick it up (but why bother if everyone’s a ghost anyway?)

Well, the thing that picked it up wasn’t a ghost.

The Chairman is the Cloak possessing a human corpse.

This explains a few things: it doesn’t talk because its got no voice (either meat or spectral), it keeps movement to a minimum to avoid suspicion, the body provides a shape to fill it out (hence why the Chairman has more human proportions), and solidity could also act as a form of armour.

(My theory here on why it had to be a corpse it couldn’t just be a ghost is that, from what we’ve seen, we can assume that ghosts can’t possess other ghosts. Otherwise nothing would get done. It’s likely the Cloak needs a physical vessel because trying to push a spirit out of a body without the body probably won’t work too well.)

But why go through all the rigamarole of possessing a skeleton and instigating yourself as the head of a ghost society? Why the secrecy? Now we get to point three: misery. The Cloak needs to feed off misery, and a bunch of angry, bitter people with lifetimes of grudges is probably a pretty great meal. Access to so much misery ensures its growth and survival. It’s a parasite. One with rudimentary forms of free will too, as we’ve seen the Chairman making decisions of its own accord.

As an intelligent parasite with the potential for an eternity of sustenance at your fingertips, the only smart thing to do would be ensure you kept the misery-generators under your control and were in the position to manipulate your surroundings to prioritize your continued survival (why scaring is mandatory, closely monitored, and punished if insufficient). Thus, the Chairman rises to power.

The deal was probably pretty good until the season finale. With the misery engine that was the Flow of Failed Phantoms gone, and the final hit depleting the last of the misery-born power the Cloak held, it lost control of its vessel, now so old that the bones basically liquified instantly. Weak and desperate to cling to life (as parasites are), it fell dormant as a defense mechanism.

Another thing to consider: in the season two premiere, we’re told that the person who vanquishes the Chairman becomes the next one and inherits the Cloak (makes sense, a position of ultimate power is probably pretty good for the parasite to remain in). We don’t know if its been a ghost before (we don’t know how long the previous body lasted), but the next leader is… Scratch. Someone wholly uninterested in power or misery of any kind, and unable to be controlled since he can’t be possessed.

Not a great day for the Cloak, I bet.

Any other parasite would pack their bags, not a whole lot of surviving happening if the new Chairman decrees scaring isn’t necessary anymore. But the Cloak sits quiet and plays nice. Why? Because of a simple little detail that’s bothered me ever since season two episode one dropped.

Scratch didn’t kill the old Chairman.

Molly did.

Young, human, easily controlled if it can just get close enough, the Cloak won’t bother settling for second best when the grand prize sleeps four feet away from its current host, not when its existence is on the line. Its still weak from the massive blow of joy Molly dealt, but it can feed off background misery and regain strength until Molly asks to play dress up one day, or Scratch leaves it laying around unsupervised, and then it’s an easy job of quashing one tiny soul and regaining power.

Its had an afterlifetime of practice, after all.

[faaun]

procrastination is starting to have its consequences finally

[minswriting]

West Coast - Aaron Hotchner x Reader

About: The team is in L.A, investigating a case where an unsub is killing couples involving an older man and a younger woman outside of clubs. You and Aaron end up undercover at a club, dancing together. What was an undercover investigation quickly becomes something of a different nature when a certain tension gets involved. And after the unsub gets caught and everything is settled, you get a visit from Aaron at your hotel room.

Warnings: NSFW Content, Minors Do Not Interact, regular criminal minds topics and violence, sexual tension, grinding, unprotected sex, p in v, lana del rey coded fr.

Word Count: 2,500 Words

Down on the West Coast they got a sayin'

"If you're not drinkin' then you're not playin'"

But you've got the music, you've got the music

In you, don't you?

Your hips moved graciously to the music as you danced sensually against Aaron. His hands gripped your hips, holding them close to you while his breath hit your neck. The moment was hot to say the least, literally and metaphorically. The club lights were blue and dimmed, the dance floor filled with fog and sweaty bodies. The club scene in Los Angeles was artistic, edgy. Perhaps you would’ve enjoyed it had the circumstances been different.

The BAU was in L.A, investigating a series of murders that involved couples outside of nightclubs. The couples were always with an older man and a younger woman. And after days of no luck in catching the guy, it had been agreed upon that Hotch and you go undercover. So here you were, grinding against your boss with your coworkers in the room, scattered around.

Down on the West coast, I get this feeling like

It all could happen, that's why I'm leaving

You for the moment, you for the moment

Boy Blue, yeah, you

As you swayed your hips to the music, your ass grazed Aaron’s crotch. You’d love to say it was accidental but you knew yourself. The heat of the moment was getting to you. You heard the shaky breath that escaped the lips that were right near your ear, his bulge pressing against you. The heat of the moment was getting to him too.

To say you had always had an attraction to your boss would be a bit of an understatement. Aaron was a constant presence in your fantasies ever since you had joined the team. With his authoritative presence and the way he took control, you often found yourself wondering if he were the same in the bedroom. And now that you’ve gotten yourself in this situation, those thoughts are skyrocketing.

“Keep dancing. There’s a man looking at the two of you on the other side of the room,” came Morgan’s voice in the ear piece that you were wearing. “Reid, are you able to get a clear view?”

“Affirmative,” said the genius over the ear piece.

Maybe you should be more concerned. You are in fact working. You’re supposed to be catching this unsub. But when Aaron grips you tighter and his lips are to the shell of your ear, your brain could hardly comprehend the rest of what’s going on around you. “Can you feel what you did to me?” He murmured into your ear, pressing himself closer to you. “Perhaps I should take you home later.”

It’s all just an act. You’re both professionals, putting on a facade to catch the bad guy. And yet it felt so real. With the obvious hard-on that Aaron was sporting, the obvious shakiness in his breath, the weakness you felt in your knees from his voice. It was all so much. And yet, it was all an act.

You're falling hard, I push away, I'm feeling hot to the touch

You say you miss me and I wanna say I miss you so much

But something keeps me really quiet, I'm alive, I'm a lush

Your love, your love, my love

I can see my baby swinging

His Parliament's on fire and his hands are up

On the balcony and I'm singing

Ooh baby, ooh baby, I'm in love

I can see my sweet boy swaying

He's crazy y cubano como yo, la-la

On the balcony and I'm saying

Move baby, move baby, I'm in love

I'm in love (I'm in love)

I'm in love (I'm in love)

That night, after the successful catching of the unsub, you had gotten back to your hotel room absolutely beat. Usually, after catching the bad guy, you guys are on the jet, going back to Virginia. But Aaron had requested that you all leave in the morning, exclaiming that you all deserved a night of genuine rest before traveling. So you had gotten back to your hotel room, took a shower, changed into pajamas, and were now sitting on the bed, reading when suddenly there was a knock at the door.

You frowned, checking the time. Who would be knocking at your hotel door at one in the morning? You got up from the bed, walking over to the door. You checked the peep hole, seeing Aaron standing out there still dressed in the outfit he wore at the club. You unlocked the hotel door, opening it. “Sir?” You said, looking confused at your boss. “Is everything alright?”

Aaron looked at you, eyeing you up and down for a moment as he took in your form. You were dressed in a tank top and shorts, revealing much more of your skin than he had seen before. You couldn’t help but feel a bit self conscious under his stare and yet you did nothing to move. Because you secretly loved it. After a moment of silence, Aaron cleared his throat, looking at your eyes. “I wanted to see how you’re holding up after tonight,” he said, his voice a bit rough.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you bit your lip. “I’m good,” you said softly. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m good too,” he replied, nodding his head.

It was silent between the two of you. The tension was obvious at that point. Or maybe you were just tense. Who really knew? Nothing was said or done as you both just looked at each other. Until a few moments later.

You don’t really know who made the first move. All you knew was that your lips crashed with Aaron’s and he pushed the both of you into the hotel room, closing the door behind himself without his lips leaving yours. Clothes flew across the room, soft noises escaped your mouth as Aaron kissed you harshly and passionately. It had most definitely been pent up.

Down on the West coast, they got their icons

Their silver starlets, their Queens of Saigons

And you've got the music

You've got the music in you, don't you?

Down on the West coast, they love their movies

Their golden gods and Rock 'n' Roll groupies

And you've got the music

You've got the music in you, don't you?

You push it hard, I pull away, I'm feeling hotter than fire

I guess that no one ever really made me feel that much higher

Te deseo, cariño, boy, it's you I desire

Your love, your love, my love

The back of your legs hit the mattress as Aaron gently pushed you towards it. The both of you were naked, kissing passionately. The tension from the whole night just building up inside the both of you. Aaron pulled away from the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. “If you want me to stop, now would be the time to let me know,” he whispered against your lips.

“Please don’t stop,” you whispered back, your hand trailing down his chest.

Aaron let out a shaky breath. “I want you so bad,” he said.

“Then have me.”

A statement that held so much power. It was all the consent that Aaron needed. “Sit down,” he commanded softly, gesturing to the edge of the bed. And of course you obeyed with no questions asked, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress.

It felt surreal to say the least. Your fantasies of your boss were becoming a reality. It had certainly been the energy from the club that really caused so much tension. Part of you was nervous about what would happen afterward. Sleeping with your boss is never a good idea. But whatever happened on the West Coast, stayed on the West Coast.

Aaron dropped to his knees in front of you, looking up at you with his beautiful brown eyes. He trailed his fingers from your ankle to your thighs, leaning down to press a small kiss on your right thigh before kissing the left thigh. He slowly pulled your legs apart, revealing your cunt to him. It was glistening, wet from nothing but just kissing him. And he adored it. “You’re already so wet for me,” he murmured.

“Only for you,” you murmured back.

“Yeah?” He asked, giving you a small smirk. “Good girl.” And without any hesitation, he dived in, licking a stripe from your clit to your hole and then back to your clit. You gasped and moaned, reaching to grip Aaron’s hair. When you say you had never gotten your pussy eaten this good, you truly mean it. Aaron was eating you out in ways you’d never felt before, diving into it as though he were a starving man who had just gotten food for the first time.

His nose was against your clit, rubbing it as he tongued your hole, lapping around your pussy. He let out his own soft noises, gripping your thighs so that you couldn’t move. And you? You most certainly were moaning like a whore.

I can see my baby swinging

His Parliament's on fire and his hands are up

On the balcony and I'm singing

Ooh baby, ooh baby, I'm in love

I can see my sweet boy swaying

He's crazy y cubano como yo, la-la

On the balcony and I'm saying

Move baby, move baby, I'm in love

Your first orgasm was absolutely gorgeous. Aaron had made you cum on his tongue in less than five minutes. You had clenched your thighs so hard around Aaron’s head that he thought for just a split second that he would pass out in between your thighs. And honestly, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. You tasted heavenly, like nectar blessed by the Gods above.

“Aaron,” you moaned after your orgasm, desperately needing his cock inside of you. “Need you so bad,” you said, looking down at your handsome boss.

He looked up at you, face glistening with your juices as he slowly stood up. You couldn’t help but look at his cock, wanting it so badly. Aaron certainly wasn’t below average. His cock was about seven inches but my god was it girthy. It will stretch you out so nicely, in a way that you desperately craved. Your hole clenched at that very thought, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Aaron.

“You need my cock, pretty girl?” He asked softly, reaching down to grip his cock, pumping it slowly.

You nodded your head, giving a sultry pout as you looked up at Aaron. “Need your cock so bad, sir,” you exclaimed.

Aaron let out a soft moan at your words, especially to you saying ‘sir’. It sent a rush down to his cock. Your sultry and whiny voice, begging for him to take you. You calling him “sir” just was the cherry on top. You were perfect and he adored it. He adored you. “I’ll give you my cock, baby,” he exclaimed, moving so he could align himself to your pussy. He slowly eased himself inside of you, careful to not hurt you while also letting out a low moan.

You let out a loud moan, gripping the sheets below you as you clenched around his cock. The stretch certainly hurt though that was expected. You truthfully hadn’t had sex in quite awhile and Aaron was bigger than most people you’ve been with. Regardless, you were just glad to be filled. You craved it. As Aaron bottomed out, he stayed still for a few minutes, waiting for you to adjust to his size. You took a few minutes to get used to it, allowing your body time to relax. And soon, you were ready for him to move. “You can move,” you licked your lips, looking up at your boss.

Aaron took a moment to look at you, admiring your beauty. He couldn’t help it. You were just so beautiful. However, without any further hesitation, he began thrusting his hips slowly inside of you, making you both groan in pleasure. To say Aaron craved this was an understatement. He had wanted you since the day you had joined the team. It had taken everything in his power to make sure your relationship stayed strictly professional. And perhaps it will remain so when you guys get back to the East Coast. But tonight? Tonight was the night for indulging. Because the desire was simply just too much.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned underneath Aaron, closing your eyes in pleasure as his hips began moving faster. His cock thrusted in and out of you, stretching you so good and hitting that sweet spot inside of you. “Feels so good,” you whimpered in pleasure.

“God, you’re so tight,” Aaron let out a choked moan. Your pussy was clenching his cock, adding to his pleasure. “And so wet.” Your cunt was perfect, clenching him as though it were made for his cock and his cock only.

Aaron’s thrusts were hard and fast as he fucked you. The room was filled with the loud moans of the both of you while skin hit skin. The squelching of your pussy was echoing in the room. You could feel that heat building in your abdomen as Aaron’s cock hit your g-spot repeatedly. “Oh my god!” you moaned, throwing your head back.

Aaron could feel the pleasure building inside of him, ready to erupt inside of you at any given moment. “I’m so close, baby,” he groaned, looking down at you as he fucked you. Your tits were bouncing, your cheeks were flushed while your eyes were closed. You were moaning his name as a mantra just as he moaned yours. And soon, you were cumming around his cock with your back arching and your toes curling. Aaron followed suit, letting out a long “fuuuck,” as he came. His cum shot inside of you, rope after rope as he filled you.

When you both came down from your highs, Aaron pulled out of you slowly before collapsing onto the bed right next to you. You looked up at the ceiling, finally comprehending the fact that you fucked your boss and now the unknowns of what will happen afterwards were integrating your mind. But as Aaron took you into his arms, those thoughts slowly crawled away. It doesn’t need to be so complicated.

I can see my baby swinging

His Parliament's on fire and his hands are up

On the balcony and I'm singing

Ooh baby, ooh baby, I'm in love

I can see my sweet boy swaying

He's crazy y cubano como yo, la-la

On the balcony and I'm saying

Move baby, move baby, I'm in love

I'm in love

I'm in love

What happens in the West Coast stays in the West Coast.

[clrasecretdiary]

Late night confessions | Spencer reid x Fem!Reader

only fluff allowed in this house

In which Spencer can't believe how oblivious you were.

Warnings: Pretty sure none!

Content: Love confessions, reader is oblivious, really cutesy, petnames (stuff like darling...)

--

It’s a Saturday night, and you’re getting ready to go out with your friends from the BAU. Somehow, you guys got lucky enough to have this day off and decided to go to a bar and have some fun. Hotch and Rossi both said they’re “too old” for this and decided to not go, which honestly left you relieved, you really did not want both your bosses to see you in the outfit you had planned for the night. Besides them, everyone was going, and you were excited to see the team outside of work – particularly excited to see a certain genius. 

You and Spencer are the kind of friends that everyone perceived as “suspiciously close” and everyone that didn’t know thought you guys were a couple. Actually, there was a bet amongst your friends as to how long it would take you two to actually get together.

At first, you and Spencer found it uncomfortable and got awkward every time they made a joke about you two being together, but after some time, you guys started to join in a bit. Now, the irony of it all is, between all the flirty jokes, the way Spencer became so comfortable with you being clingy to him besides his germophobia and the way he cared so much about you…  You fell in love with him. 

Arriving at the bar, you spot your friends all sat at a booth and head over to them.

“Hey guys” 

“Hi sweetie, you look gorgeous” Garcia says, giving you a kiss on the cheek 

“Thanks darling, you look stunning too” You say, taking a seat between Spencer and Penelope. 

You talk to your friends, occasionally making eye contact with Spencer, who has been blushing ever since you came into the bar. You had always found it cute how no matter how many dates he had, he still would get flustered around girls he found attractive. 

You spent the night dancing and gossiping with Penelope and Emily. Later, the group was starting to leave when you felt a hand on the small of your back, when you turn around you see Spencer standing there smiling at you

“Hi Spence, wanna dance with me?” You say, putting your hands around his neck and smiling back, voice coming out a bit dragged

“Not now darling” He said, softly laughing at the way you were, not that usually you were super uptight but at this moment you seemed so relaxed and carefree he loved seeing you like that “Did you drive here?”

“Nop, but don't worry, I'll take a cab back home” 

“There's no way I'm letting you take a cab alone this late at night. C'mon, let's say goodbye to everyone and I'll take you home” 

You roll your eyes at him, but the way he was being so protective over you made your heart flutter. You thought about contesting him, something about you being a “scary FBI agent” but you knew he was right and decided to just go with it. 

You say your goodbyes to the rest of the group and go on with him to the parking lot. On the way to the car, Spencer is holding you by your waist to prevent you from stumbling, you're fully aware that you don't need it, you didn't even drink any alcohol, still you let him do it because there's no way you would ever shy away from being this close to him.  

Back at your house, Spencer goes with you in the elevator, stopping at your apartment's door 

“Alright, here you are, safe and sound” He says, smiling at you 

“Thanks Spence” You reach out to give him a hug, and it lingers for more time than it normally does

All you wanted to do right now was kiss him. 

“Do you want to come in? I'm not sleepy at all, and I would feel guilty with you driving alone this late at night, we can make some tea and talk maybe”

“I don't know, you really should rest…” Just as he began reclining your offer, you gave him the look you knew he would never say no to “Alright, I'll come in” 

“What's going on in that pretty brain of yours Spence” You say, leaning on the counter top 

You smile at him as you walk into your apartment, getting rid of your shoes and stepping into the kitchen. Spencer sits in one of the stools near the counter top and watches as you start to make tea. He watches every move you make, as if memorizing it, and maybe it's all in your head, and maybe you're just seeing what you want to see, but he has this look in his eyes, different from before.

“Not much” He smiles, and it feels like the world stops for a moment. 

 “Now that's a surprise, when have you ever not thought about everything all at once” 

“You tend to have that effect on me” His gaze lingers on you, as if he was trying to tell you something. You can't help but feel a flutter in your stomach. 

“What's that supposed to mean” You think you might know, but there's no way he reciprocates your feelings… right? 

“You know exactly what i mean, there's no way you're that oblivious” He smirks at you, and god you think you might pass out right then and there. 

“If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you, Spencer” 

He laughs and stands up, getting close to you "Alright, what i mean is when i'm close to you, that's all I can think about… You. I've been in love with you for… honestly, I don't even know how long anymore” He takes a step closer, placing a hand on your waist and his voice drops to a whisper “I've made it pretty obvious too, maybe you took the ‘don't profile each other’ too serious. How did you not notice?” 

You're shocked, you can't even process your thoughts right now. Your best friend, whom you've been in love with for years, just confessed to you. You did notice his change in behavior towards you, you just didn't believe he could ever be in love with you 

“I noticed you treated me different, but I thought it was just…” You lose your words when he reaches out and cups your jaw, you look into his eyes, and you can see the love in them, and it makes you feel something inside. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, and all you can do is take a deep breath and lean into his hand, feeling your heart flutter. You give him a small nod and close your eyes as he gently presses his lips against yours, and at that moment, you know that this is real. 

 He gently pulls you into his arms and kisses you on the forehead as he whispers “I love you” 

“I love you more” You say, looking up, smiling at him.

“Impossible” He says, smiling back at you.

[easy-there-leftovers]

As Cool As I Think I Am

Summary: The 5 times Spencer tries to be cool, and the 1 time he doesn't care. 

Alternatively; Spencer never thought he was cool, but he found himself wanting to be just for you. 

[a/n] Recommended to be read after, "A Question Unasked", and is a roundabout sequel to "Mixed Messages."

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem! (mentored by Hotch!) reader| cw: slight spoilers for s1e04, s1e06, s1e08, s1e10, and s1e18 | description of canon-typical violence, timeframe switches because I can, and Spencer being an oblivious, lovesick idiot (can't believe this version of him survived all of this lol) | word count: 7.2k

Amazing. You had called him, “amazing” during the Arizona case and that was all that had been occupying his mind as of late. He had been called brilliant before. Been described as bright, gifted, hell, he was called a genius even. Yet that was the first time anyone had said anything positive about him.

Removed from his intellectual capabilities.

It made him think that there was more that he could offer than just his never-ending stream of knowledge and incessant rambling.

You had seen that in him.

Seen that he was 'amazing.'

But he certainly wasn’t feeling that way now.

“On SWAT we broke shots down into three steps." Spencer nodded as he listened.

"One: Front sight. Focus on the front sight, not on the target. Two: Controlled trigger press. Three: Follow through. After the shot, you come right back to the target. Now, what did you do wrong?”

He sighs with his eyes closed. “I didn't follow through.” 

“Right. You came off the target to see where you hit.”

Hotch had been observing him for the past few minutes to prepare him for his assessment tomorrow, and yet it still felt like he was making no discernable progress. 

He had memorized every trick, every form, every physics interplay that could better the ballistics of his shot and yet he still couldn't do it.

"Hotch, my firearms qualification is tomorrow morning. I barely passed my last one." He had said, putting the gun down.

He feels his unit chief gently push him aside to demonstrate and he gets in position.

"Front sight," He aims his gun.

"Trigger press," He presses down on the trigger, resulting in a gunshot to the target.

"Follow through." He finally says. Keeping his eyes forward with his finger still depressing the trigger until he holsters his gun again.

"You do those three things, you'll hit your target every time." Spencer shakes his head.

He tries to replicate the steps again, but only fails miserably.

He has been doing that. He is doing that. And yet he still keeps missing.

If this wasn't part of his job, maybe he wouldn't have cared all too much about his gun proficiency. Or lack of.

And yet it was.

And it was imperative that he learned it to keep his place on the team, but he had been losing hope.

"They're going to take away my gun."

Sensing his frustration, Hotch empathizes with him.

"Profilers aren't required to carry." He groans at that.

"Yeah, but she does and she's great at it."

God, you must've thought he was pathetic.

Aaron laughs internally at that. He knows exactly who the younger one is talking about.

He had seen the way that Spencer had been watching his 'protege,' and it didn't take being a profiler to know that he was absolutely smitten. If he hadn't known any better, he would've thought that Reid's frustrations stemmed from wanting to seem more experienced in front of you.

And Hotch saw no problem with that, at least for now. On the contrary, the two of you working together seemed to have bolstered his focus on the case. Making the team more efficient with their investigations.

He also thinks that it helped because you seemed to return Reid's sentiment, which is why he had brought you along to help him.

So when Spencer turns and sees you walk in, he blanches.

As much as he really liked your presence (you were friends, right?), he really didn't want to embarrass himself in front of you.

He does that more than enough on his own.

But it seemed like your mentor didn't care.

Hotch says your name with a greeting before excusing himself which tells Spencer that he had planned this from the start. He sighs at that. Chest feeling heavy at the pressure.

He sees you give him a polite smile, which he's come to recognize to be your way of easing him, and he returns it.

"I've heard about your progress." Spencer rolls his eyes at that.

"More like regress. I'm sorry that you have to be here." You snort at his joke but shake your head to assure him.

"I'm right where I want to be. "

His heart fills, even though he knows that not what you meant.

"Why don't you go ahead and show me how you fire that gun?"

He nods and waits for you to put on your ear muffs and goggles before he returns to his position. Calming himself down as he remembers Hotch's words.

Front sight, trigger press, follow through.

He fires three bullets and sees them all hit the whites of the target, which makes him sigh for the umpteenth time.

He puts the gun down and lowers his ear muffs to look at you. Seemingly deep in thought, chin resting on your hand, with eyes travelling slowly up and down his form. Observing.

Scrutinizing.

Assessing.

He can't help but feel naked under your gaze.

He always knew you were smart. The cases you've helped solve were more than proof of just that, but he knew that even you couldn't solve the mystery that was his aim.

He couldn't expect that of you. He relies on you so often already.

He briefly wonders how there's such a different between you and him. You joined the same year, joined the same unit, and worked with the same people on the same cases. How was it that you seemed calmer, cooler, and more prepared for anything more than he ever was?

Spencer firmly believes that intelligence cannot be quantified. And if anyone ever doubted him, he would just point at you and say that you had him beat everywhere despite what any number might have to say otherwise.

Case and point. you had been talking to him about something very important and thoughtful and he had been zoning out the entire time.

"I um,–– what?"

You shake your head and gesture to his gun once more. "Show me your form again."

He takes his gun hesitantly, but readies himself the same way he did earlier. The only exception being that his finger isn't on the trigger.

He hears that telltale, almost bored, 'hm' of yours before you speak again.

"Tuck your chest in."

He's read countless firearm manuals and instructions and he's never heard of that before.

"I'm sorry?"

"Tuck your chest in." You say it again, but it's still not making sense to him.

Unable to voice or even act upon his confusion, he watches as you wait with an impassive face before asking,

"Can I touch you?" He lets out a shaky, but immediate 'yes' and you move to stand beside him.

Given your calm and nonchalant demeanor, he anticipates a more impersonal touch. For lack of a better word. He expects a shove. Maybe a push, to correct him into the right place.

So when your hand comes to softly rest on his stomach, fingers splaying across the expanse of his undefined abdominal muscles, he feels his breath hitch. Upper body slightly crumpling in on himself as he does.

He's surprised he hasn't dropped his gun.

"Dr. Reid,"

He's also surprised that his heart hasn't stopped. With how you said his name, and how close you are– he can already feel your soft breath gracing his ear–

"You're an autodidact, aren't you?"

A self-taught person, he thinks.

"I–– I am." Curse his shaky voice.

"You know, there are some things that can't be learned by just reading textbooks and looking at diagrams."

He feels you tap his stomach and he suddenly feels hot.

"Feel this?" He feels you engulfing his senses, that's for sure. But he nods slowly.

"Remember it. Your center of gravity is different from the subjects in those graphics. So the form you need to take is likewise different."

And just like that, all too quick for his liking, you move away. Hand leaving him just like whatever depraved thought might've been running around his head.

He hesitantly looks back at you, and you gesture to his gun again. Noticing how your free hand is resting on the gun in your holster.

A Glock 19, he remembers.

"Go ahead and shoot like that now."

He does, in the same way that he's compelled to follow your voice like always–

Front sight, trigger press, follow through.

And fires three shots.

To his surprise, he manages to shoot the target's chest. Not quite centered, he admits, but its a vast improvement from his previous attempts.

"I– I did it." He feels the disbelief on his face when he looks at you again. He's expecting you to look just as shocked as he does. After all, you saw just how egregious his aim was. So it surprises him when he turns and is greeted instead with the small smile on your face.

Not the same polite smile that you usually give when you're at work, no. It was a soft, genuine smile, or so he thinks.

"I never doubted your capabilities, Dr. Reid."

He beams under your praise. Blooming like a flower under the warm radiance of the Sun. Once again subject to that brain-freezing sensation from a few weeks ago.

If he just remembers everything you told him today, which wasn't a lot, he theoretically should pass his firearm qualifications with no problem.

And maybe, just maybe, he'll get to see you smile at him again.

After all, he had always wanted for you to look at him. Actually look at him.

Maybe if he passes his test this time, you will.

----

The following day, he doesn’t pass his test.

And he is much more embarrassed now than he ever was before. 

He returns to the bullpen with his head down. Already expecting everyone to know of his failure.

He really didn't want to see if you were one of the ones that had been looking at him.

What he doesn't see is that you were.

But you weren't disappointed at all. You wanted nothing more than to reassure him. To tell him that you could always help him again, and that you didn't mind the extra work if it weren't for the stares that you had been getting back.

Seemingly turning your what-would've-been act of friendship and care into an expectation and responsibility.

"Make a wish!"

"Come on, man. Blow, baby, blow!"

"I thought you were full of hot air, Reid."

"They're trick candles, Spence, okay? They–– They're going to come back on every time."

While Spencer is glad that he’s spending his birthday with actual people, there's one in particular that he's missing.

He also feels sort of embarrassed that he's having a full-on birthday at his workplace. Though he is very thankful that his friends care about him enough to do this.

"Hope you like chocolate." JJ says with a laugh and he is only now recognizing the cake. Previously too caught up in blowing out the undying flames to even notice the festive dessert that supported them.

"Where's the cake from?" The blonde only gives him a look that he can't quite understand, but he is immediately distracted when he feels a draft from where Hotch passes by him.

He looks in the direction he came from and lo and behold, he found the very person he was missing.

He gets up, wanting to at least get a greeting from you, but he's interrupted by Gideon asking him something before he can even try.

"You having fun?"

He knows that he's asking him, but he can also see how his eyes aren't quite addressing him back. Instead, looking up a few inches above him.

He gives a tight lip smile when he realizes just what he's looking at.

God, he felt pathetic.

“Yes, definitely. I am definitely– having fun.” 

"Make a wish?" He asks another question and that’s when Spencer sees what he's doing now.

Ever since he first exhibited signs of interest in you, he knew that his mentor would be the first to clock them. He couldn't even hide it if he tried. If there was anyone on the team that he knew would figure it out this quick, it would've been him.

He expected it.

What he didn't expect was for Gideon to show disapproval for it.

For you.

Back during the Arizona case, he remembers how Gideon had interrupted you when you were explaining something. And that's when he realized you were going to have a hard time.

You were going to have a hard time because of his own rapidly growing interest.

Because he froze when you said one nice thing about him, then proceeded to wow him with your observational skills.

He didn't want Gideon to think that you were being a distraction to him, so he instead chose to show just how well the two of you had worked together. Even going as far as to double down and reiterate your statements to convince him of that.

And it seemed to have worked, but now he wasn't so sure.

"Can I take this hat off?"

He wanted nothing more than to do just that before you notice him, but his mentor just shook his head.

"I wouldn't."

He doesn't know it's because Gideon knew you found it cute.

By the time that he notices the elder doesn't really care about the conversation anymore, probably too distracted by the TV behind him, his gaze finally focuses on you.

The very person that he had intended to talk to.

The one he intended to talk the entire time before he got sidetracked.

You still hadn't turned to look at him though, or make an attempt to greet him. Not even a laugh to mock him for the huge, 'Happy Birthday' hat that sat on his head to make him look like a dunce!

Instead, you were staring at something. Or rather, someone.

He turns his head to look just where you were and there he sees his unit chief, your mentor, on the receiving end of your intense gaze.

Just like always.

He shakes his head and decides to just go talk to you, but he is once again interrupted. This time by Hotch with a solemn expression on his face.

“Sorry guys. Party’s over.”

You immediately spring into action at his words, completely missing his hand that was just about to come up to wave at you. He tightens his lips into a thin smile.

Spencer's starting to doubt Morgan and Elle's words.

–––––––––––––

The sentiment is rectified when he finally receives the one thing he had been looking forward to on his birthday, and it wasn't the gift.

Not even the greeting.

It was being able to be in your presence. Being able to spend time with you. The you that wasn't so stressed or strict about work, or the case, or your boss.

It was just him and you. You and him. And the scarf that seemed to warm him just as much as his heart warmed at the sight of your smiling face.

God, what he would do to have this with you forever.

Spencer is well aware that likes you.

Hell, even the rest of team knows it by now, but he's starting to fear that his unconscious mind is more aware of that than his conscious one.

Case and point, he had been having dreams.

Nightmares, actually.

Nightmares that he can't help but think will happen if he takes his eyes off of you for even a second.

Morgan had asked him earlier when he was making coffee if something was causing him to lose sleep. If you had been causing him to lose sleep, he had asked with a teasing smirk.

And while normally he would've flushed and stumbled at his implication that a night of you had been keeping him up, he admits to what's been plaguing his mind.

Naturally, he doesn't tell him the full nature of his night terrors. But his friend doesn't need him to. Not with the way that his eyes try to find yours every chance he gets, focus going in and out of the conversation like an adjusting lens.

Spencer fears that one day, no matter how strong or smart or clever you are, it's his negligence that'll place you on the receiving end of a killer's weapon.

And that there's nothing that he can do to stop them from landing the finishing blow.

He knows that it's not rational, but he also knows that dreams are rarely, if not never, rational. Studies show that around seventy to eighty-percent of dreams contain bizarre or irrational elements. This included unusual settings, impossible scenarios, and illogical developments to be featured in the unconscious brain.

Doesn't mean that he's alright with seeing it so often, though.

What's worse is that he knows that it can very much happen during the BAU cases. And that he can't even prepare himself for that scenario.

He's practically deadweight on the field with his still erratic aim and bambi legs, he's surprised you aren't sick of him yet.

He laughs a bit at the thought. Clutching a portion of his scarf—the only thing that has been keeping the nightmares at bay— as he promises himself that he won't leave your side.

Especially not in the confounding forest of McAllister, Virginia.

Which is why he's stuck in his current position.

“Dr. Reid, I need you to check back downhill and see if the deputies have returned.” He looks at you incredulously.

“What? No! I can’t leave you here– ” 

He doesn't know what exactly you found in the abandoned house, but he knew that it wasn't wise to leave you with no one but a high schooler.

You might think he's not all that different from the kid, but he's at least trained to be an FBI agent.

“We need the rest of the sheriffs and the crime scene team here.”

You looked dead into his eyes, yet he still didn't relent. No matter how reasonable your request was.

In any other situation, he might've thought you were cool. That you were handling the situation like a natural, and that you were very responsible for taking charge when he was there with his heart threatening to beat out of his chest.

But he didn't want to leave you. Not when you looked like you've just seen a ghost.

He grasped your shoulders, firmly but gently, and practically begged for you to come with him.

Stating that what you were feeling was a completely normal physiological response. That your body was sending neropinephrine to your brain to help regulate the stress and compensate for whatever was happening inside of you and that it would be safer to stay together––

But when he sees you ice him out– concealing all remaining traces of shock or fear or worry– he freezes.

His eyes raked across your features, biding his time. Committing every micro-reaction, every hair out of place, every faux-calm movement of your eyes before he had to let you go with a nod. Leaving hurriedly to find anyone that can help and constantly looking back at you to assure his consciousness that you were fine, and that you would be fine.

When he saw that the other sheriff wasn't there yet, much less anyone for that matter, he immediately went back. Running uphill fast to get to you.

To make sure that you were alright, that you were alive, and that no one was coming to hurt you.

Which is how he found himself here.

Gun held to his head by the very high schooler that, he thought, wouldn't have been of help if another dangerous person had shown up.

When you raised your hands and dropped your gun in surrender, he was scared of what would happen to you both if he didn't act quick.

But he was even more scared of what could happen to you if he doesn't talk his way out.

Fast.

So that's what he did.

––––––––––

He didn't get to check on you, he realizes.

He knew you were able to knock the kid out, he was there when he helped you distract him, but he must’ve been wheezing because he was the first one to get ushered out and checked on.

He wants to tell them to check on you. That you had landed pretty badly when the unsub was able to push you back, but he can hardly even hear his own thoughts.

The siren of the police car, the medic talking to him, the rest of the team discussing the case's outcome, and his own heart in his ears were simply too much for him.

By the time that things had settled down, he notices that you still aren't there with him. He worries and whips his head around wildly before his eyes find yours already looking at him.

Doing so with an expression of regret or grief etched onto your face.

He sighs in relief, and gives you the best smile he can give to assure you that he's okay despite having been worried sick.

He needed you to know that he was fine. That it wasn’t your fault. That he was glad you're okay too.

That he was so impressed with what you had done despite the circumstances, and that you had handled the situation way better than he knew anyone on the team ever could.

So when you seem to turn away from him, he briefly wonders if something was actually wrong.

He tries to look back on what might've happened. Wonders if there's something he didn't see when he came back, or when he was away––

And that's when he realizes something.

Could he have put you in more danger when he came back to check on you? That he had accidentally sabotaged your takedown?

He sighs. He must've looked so pathetic in front of you getting grabbed like that–– but he's not sorry.

He had been doing that for your safety and for his own peace of mind–– he wasn't going to apologize for caring about you.

He'll make it up to you somehow.

The next time you go on another case together, which you two inevitably will, he'll make it up to you.

That, he promises.

He actually doesn't get to work with you again. So he decides that he can make it up to you by narrowing down the unsub's identity.

In fact, he hasn't seen you at all since the team first arrived at the crime scene.

You had been working with Hotch and Morgan on more field operations, leaving him with Elle and Penelope doing background checks on possible suspects. And while he wasn't with you, he'd like to think that he's still enjoying the company.

Well, that's what he would like to think.

He has no problems working with Elle. She was a nice colleague that seemed to occasionally humor his rants and got the job done quickly. And Penelope was someone that the both of you really got along with. Occasionally having this back and forth unique to the three of you.

But they weren't you.

Still. What he thought about you can wait later. He still has to think about his escape route if the two break out into a fight.

Right now, the three of them had staked out one Michael Russo who they anticipated would call his hitman, the suspected Unsub. They were hoping to get a name from what they could pick up from his end of the call, and they did.

Problem was,

"Russo's got eleven associates named Vincent." Spencer raised his brows at that.

Vincent is a name of Latin origins. He shouldn't be surprised that the mob had a handful of people with that name, but it was kind of too on the nose at this point.

"Oh, make that ten. Vincent Cellito died last summer. But here's something––Vincent Sartori."

He really wants to find this guy, so he chooses to keep looking through the list. Ignoring the growing tension between the two girls.

"Currently doing six at Dannemora for racketeering."

Spencer then speaks up again, "How about this Perotta? There's not much on him."

Garcia makes quick work to pull up what seemed to be deleted records and that's where they find something interesting.

"Alcohol addiction at 14, violent outbursts, assaults,–– Once threw a Molotov cocktail at someone sitting in their car." She can't believe what she's reading.

"Several notations for aggression," He adds, but this is where he sees something truly wrong.

"He once scheduled a visit to an infirmary to gain access to a–– boy who looked at him for too long?"

He really didn't want to meet this guy.

"No fear, no remorse, quick temper. And he was smart enough to stay off the radar as an adult," Elle interprets. "Paranoid personality. Could be our guy."

And he really didn't want you to meet him either.

All the evidence is stacking up against him though, so you just might have to. He just wished that nothing bad would happen when you did.

––––––––––

While right now they weren't sure if he was the unsub, he was definitely someone who fit their profile. He saw some LEO's bring in a guy who had essentially been cuffed at every limb, accompanied by Hotch and Gideon, but he had yet to see the others.

He sees Morgan, who is walking alongside Elle (she went to see what all the commotion was about) but with who he sees next, he feels his stomach drop. Heart rate spiking in contrast to an all time high that he's practically sure he has tachycardia.

"What happened to you!?"

He got up from his seat to run over but you just shake your head.

You had come back with your clothes and hair in disarray, a bleeding nose, and a a busted lip. A complete disparity to the normally clean-cut and professional look that you had strived to maintain.

Even when you had been tackled to the ground a few cases back, the damage wasn't nearly as bad as this.

It's Derek that answers his question for him though.

"Perotta hit your girl up in the head, Reid." He chooses to ignore the joke. Too worried as he tries to check on your head but you just softly squeeze his hands to reassure him before you push them away.

Still not looking at him as you finally speak.

"It wasn't that bad. He hesitated. It could've been worse."

He doesn't like your answer.

If you had just been hit in the head and yet your nose is bleeding, that was a clear sign of a concussion. And the cut on your lip had to be from a fall. On asphalt or onto another material, it didn't matter to him since both are just as bad.

As he expresses that, you just tell him to drop it and then move away from him.

Before he can say more however, Hotch comes back into the room with his usually stern expression. A bit of worry lacing his tone, Spencer notes, as he orders you.

"Go home."

He's staring you down, but it seemed you had a lot more to say to that.

"Sir Hotchner, I would be of much more use in here. It is imperative that all available resources are focused on the retrieval of James Baker." He sighs because you're right, but that doesn't seem enough to satisfy you.

The boy-genius hates it when you use reason to get your way.

"Fine. Help Reid and the others with the evidence. We can narrow down his area of operation from there. They should be arriving soon."

You shake your head adamantly. "Sir, I can handle the interrogation--"

"No you can't!"

Spencer surprises himself with his outburst, but you don't even turn to look at him.

It's Hotch that gives him a very pointed stare though before continuing,

"Reid is right, agent. We'll handle the interrogation, so please busy yourself here." He says it with a finality that is indicative of his departure but you stop him one last time. Hand going up to rest on your mentor's collar.

He sees you gesture to your own, and Spencer hears an intention in your voice that he can't quite understand.

"Let's not give him a weapon, sir. He's pretty strong."

He sees his boss nod, and he takes off his tie. Putting the cloth into your awaiting hand, and you grip it out of instinct.

Reid zones out as he sees this interaction in disbelief. Did you normally touch the others like this?

You had completely brushed off his concern, not even looking at him. And yet when it was your unit chief that told you to do so, you had simply followed?

He thought he was starting to become an exception to you, but had he been reading the signs wrong? It could very much be a possibility as he was never good at doing so.

Even later when he had been sifting through the bags from the suspect's van, you still didn't respond to him. Even going as far as to ignoring Penelope's offer to watch the tapes they had found in Perotta's van. Shaking your head, 'no' with a faraway look in your eyes.

Just what had exactly happened while he wasn't by your side?

At this point, Spencer’s convinced that you would never like him.

If not for you having eyes on literally anyone else but him, then definitely because he had disappointed you. Desecrated the honor that came with being an FBI agent.

Just because he had been distracted.

A whirlwind of emotions had been flurrying inside him since the very beginning of this case, but he swears that he had never meant for this.

He doesn't even remember how it happened. Which baffled him, given his memory. But he thinks it's because he couldn't have cared less about the past few hours.

He had been stuck babysitting Lila only because you had told him so. Entrusted him with her because you thought that he was the best person to guard her, to comfort her.

He didn’t know it was because you had a feeling he’d be safer by her side.

And some part of him was flattered that you had said all this about him. Especially when all Lila would hear from him were endless praises of your name, of your work, and your caring nature.

But another part of him felt ignored. Pushed aside.

He doesn't know when it had happened, but Hotch had stopped pairing you together some cases ago. Saying something about you needing physical training, though he sincerely doubted that.

He thought that things were going well between you two. He had just been trying to find the perfect window where you would see him in a good enough light.

A good enough light that would make you say 'yes' to going on a date with him.

He didn't even care that the pretty blonde was interested in him. He only agreed because you stressed her safety more than any other target thus far. But the attention that she was giving him?

That was all that he wanted from you.

All he'd been wanting for months.

And when he had kissed her, all he could think about was you. How it would've felt if it was you in his arms, how you would react if it had been you that he was touching.

But then immediately after, how you would react to him kissing another girl.

God, he was pathetic.

He knew that you had been having a hard time lately. And he also knew that it had a lot to do with your work, how he did his, and his safety. That was all you ever stressed about when you were with him.

If he was safe.

You'd think he'd learn that by now, but he hasn't. Which is why even when he knew all this, his heart still ached as he sees you cry into Morgan's arms. Sobbing like no tomorrow. All because of something he did.

All because he took all your hard work, that had been focused on keeping him alive, and essentially throwing it right back at your face.

His negligence did that.

And he supposes that now, he can't do anything to get into your good graces anymore. Not when Derek Morgan seemed to better at doing his job as a federal agent, and his job as your friend.

When he finally gets changed into dry clothes and enters Lila's house, he doesn't miss the way that you turn from him. He also doesn't miss the glare the other agent was giving him. Nor the careful hand that had been rubbing up and down your arm.

Something that he wished he could've been doing instead.

––––––––––

God, he wanted to be anywhere but here, considering this is where it all went downhill.

"Did you give Lila Archer a collage?" Gideon had started the interrogation, so even if he did want to leave, he couldn't.

"What?"

"There's a photographic collage above Lila Archer's sofa. She says you gave it to her."

But the faster that they could get this done, the faster he could apologize to you.

"So? I didn't make the damn thing." Parker had laughed out, clearly not comprehending the severity of the situation.

"So you just happened to give her a work of art containing most of her life in it?" Spencer pushed but was surprised to see his ex-classmate seemingly have no recollection of the situation at all.

Something was wrong.

If it wasn't him, then who––?

"I––no, no. Look, I lied. I just wanted her to like me. I met her here, and she was a fan of art. Someone gave me the piece to give to her, but I told her it was from me."

It can't be––

"I said I found it, and I thought she'd love it."

"And who gave it to you?" Morgan had finally asked.

"Her name's Maggie Lowe. She uh––She works on Lila's show."

When Spencer hears this, he immediately goes to call you on his phone. Maggie Lowe had gone to Juilliard with Lila and was the production assistant that he swore he saw go in and out of her trailer.

If he wasn't so distracted, he would've fucking noticed that.

But his phone doesn't even ring for a few moments before the call is declined.

What the fuck was happening?

Before he could ask anyone else, he heard Derek speak up.

“Sweet girl, listen to me. We have a name, and it’s ‘Maggie Lowe.’ We’re on our wa—" Spencer tries to talk to you through Morgan's phone, but is knocked off balance when the man turns around in shock.

"Christ man—we're on our way back over there, okay? Stay put and we’ll let Hotch and JJ know.” 

"Let me talk to her!" He practically begs, but before anyone could even understand what he was saying, the call is ended from your side.

"Reid, what the hell were you trying to do?"

He's shocked at his own actions too, but that's not what's on his mind right now.

"She dropped my call but she answered yours? And since when did you start calling her that?"

He knew it wasn't fair, especially after what he had done, but just when did you and him happen?

"Since you started being a dumbass. Get over yourself, kid."

Everyone then started making their way to the two SUV's parked outside, but Spencer took the one that Morgan was driving.

He wasn't done with this conversation.

He tries to call you again, but this time, it looks like the line is busy. What was going on, where were you? He tries Lila's phone, even though he's sure she won't pick up and nothing either.

He has half a mind to ask Morgan to call you, in case you were just being petty and ignoring him, but he feels his phone vibrate. He suddenly hears his phone ring, and he hurriedly answers without checking the caller ID.

Hoping that it would be you on the other hand as he called out your name.

"Nope, sorry hon, it's me." It was Garcia's voice, but it sounded like she was shaking. Sensing the urgency in her voice, he instinctively puts his phone on speaker.

"Reid, I need you to listen to me very carefully— I've already alerted officials in the area, but your unsub? Is in Lila Archer's house."

You can't keep doing this, he thinks. You can't keep scaring him like this, because he's starting to feel so sick.

He looks to his friend in the driver's seat and sees him nod when they make eye contact. Speeding up as they thank Penelope before she ended the call.

At this point, he could care less with how pathetic he might've looked. No longer caring about how uncool you thought he was, or whatever might've been going on between you and Morgan, or if you still had a crush on your boss— none of that.

They had left you behind with Lila and no one else.

Spencer had always feared that one day, no matter how strong or smart or clever you are, it's his negligence that'll place you on the receiving end of a killer's weapon. And that there's nothing that he can do to stop them from landing the finishing blow.

If the reason you were alone and held captive by some psychotic shooter was because he had pissed you off enough to even dismiss his help?

He might never forgive himself for it.

When they arrive, he immediately gets out of the car. Ready to run in and ambush Maggie by himself if he has to when Lila runs into his arms. Holding a gun in her hand as if it were a bomb.

A Glock 19 that he's seen you use since his first official cases on the team.

He notices Morgan, Elle, and Gideon were already out, but Hotch and JJ have still yet to arrive.

He knows that he should wait until further instructions. That there wasn't a protocol for this specific situation. Or maybe there was, but his IQ of 187 had always been slashed down to 60 whenever you were involved.

When he hears a gun fire from inside the house, he's the first one that starts running.

He's thankful that he wasn't alone when he did though.

By the time that Maggie had been apprehended, you were already well on your way to the nearest hospital. According to the clock from inside your room, and the news report that had been playing, a full twelve hours at the very least had passed since then.

You tried to remember what had happened. Tried to remember how you screamed for help once you had subdued her. How she shot you when you tackled her.

Probably with the intention to kill you, then herself had you not talked her out of it.

You groan as you feel the blooming pain in your side. Probably from the GSW that you're going to have to note in your action report.

And then you remembered how you realized what you felt for Spencer and the rest of the team.

You shake your head despondently.

When you look back on every situation where you had essentially put yourself on the line for his sake, you notice that you had really been doing that out of your own volition.

That you had been doing it because you didn't want him getting hurt.

You just didn't like that the the team was turning it into some sort of responsibility.

And sure. Maybe the others were complicit in pairing you up, or guilty for giving you odd looks, but they probably wouldn't have done that if it wasn't something you were already going to do.

God, you felt so pathetic.

You don't think you can handle looking at Spencer now. Not after your existential crisis, and certainly not after what you said before he left.

But luck has a way, so it seems, to constantly elude you.

You note this as you see the very man that you had been thinking of slowly opening the door and perking up when he sees your eyes on him.

Well, as perked up as he could be. Given the circumstances.

"How uh—, How are you? A-Are you...okay?"

You take in how he looks when he asks. Dark rings encircling his eyes, (he had been up all night waiting for you), usually neat hair in a mess (he had been running his hands through them nonstop), and shirt all crumpled from being hunched over for so long (a different one, because he just couldn't stand the vague scent on chlorine in his old one.)

Your heart sinks at the sight and you beckon him closer with your strong hand. Echoing his question.

"Are you okay, Dr. Reid?"

He lets out a shaky breath when he finally hears your soft voice again, slowly approaching you as he does. He was so worried that the last words he would hear from you would be your disappointment, but he persists.

"Can you please answer the question? I don't like it when you pretend like you're okay when you're obviously not."

His hand finds its way to trace little patterns on the back of yours. Occasionally looking up at to see if he was hurting you, before continuing when he sees that he isn't. Feeling too shy to do anything more.

You roll your eyes at the gesture. Flipping his hand to rest on the hospital bed and slipping yours on top of his. Giving it a soft squeeze.

"I could be better." You then squeeze his hand again. "Is this what you were trying to do?"

He thinks for a while, as if not really understanding your question, before nodding vigorously.

You smile at the sight but then feel your regret from a few hours ago come rushing back.

"I'm really sorry. For...everything." You don't think he knows what you're apologizing for, but you do it anyway.

If not now, when?

Spencer laughs a little at that but shakes his head. "Morgan told me about what you said. Back at Lila's. Well, more like he told everyone while we were waiting for you to wake up."

You nod. Suddenly feeling guilty for trying to make contact so you try to let go, but he only entangles your fingers once more. Intertwining them as much as he can since this is the closest that he can afford to have you right now.

He feels his lips tightening into a thin smile before he says what's been haunting him for the past few hours.

"I'm sorry that you had to deal with me for so long. I never meant to burden you like that or make your job harder."

"No, Spencer please," you start, rubbing the only part of his hand that you could reach with your thumb.

"You were never a burden. I was just—caught up in a bunch of things."

He doesn't miss how your usual eloquence evades you. Which gives him a bit of an idea as to how unscripted and vulnerable you were being with him right now.

And as much as he should hate this for you, he'd love it if you would learn to be a bit more vulnerable in front of him. Even if it was a departure from your usually starched blazers, pressed blouses, and clean-cut exterior.

He still thought you were cool just like this.

"Have I ever told you that I thought you were really cool?" You weakly snort at that.

"If by 'cool,' you mean constantly worrying about how everything could go wrong, then yeah. I'm super cool."

He shakes his head at that, but it looked like you weren't done.

"I think you looked cooler, though. Especially when you were next to the pool trying to dry your gun. You looked like a wet rat."

He groans at the mention but you continue to tease him.

"Hey, you were a handsome wet rat. Still a rat, but... you know. From Vegas. Arguably not as bad as the ones from New York. Now though, you're a handsome dry rat."

Now that, he just wines at. You weren't being fair.

How could you make him go through all this and then say that?

Did you know what kind of effect you have on him?

The two of you continue to sling back jokes at the other, a common thing you used to do before things went south. And just enjoying each other's presence.

Holding his hand as you absentmindedly started massaging it. He didn't even notice how his hand had been shaking since the moment you first held onto it.

He was so so glad you were alive. That you were still here, with him. And there's no place he would rather be than where you were.

"So. How about you start telling me what you've been up to while I've been knocked out, hm? What have you learned, genius?"

He's learned a quite a lot, while you were away.

He learned that he should probably encourage you to have more breaks. Learned that you should both talk to each other, and everyone, a bit more. And he learned that you two weren't so different after all.

He's also learned how much he really liked your smile, your laugh, your soft touch, and the way that his name fell from your lips.

He doesn't tell you any of this, however.

Opting to instead tell you about the numerous facts he's picked up during the case, and how much he hated Hollywood.

[a/n] And with that, this marks the end of this specific timeline! I've honestly loved writing with this reader's specific personality in mind, and I'm looking forward to how she'll mellow out when she learns to be more honest.

I have a few ideas for one shots regarding this specific dynamic, but if you enjoyed it as much as I did, please tell me what you thought about this short series! And if you have any idea on what you'd like to see next from these dumbasses, send an ask my way!

Thank you so much for liking them thus far.

Like my work? Consider tipping me!!

[improbable-outset]

📄 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.1k

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Secret mutual pinning, angst, emotional turmoil, mentions of insecurities, EVENTUAL SMUT, confessional sex, cunnilingus, unprotected p in v sex, long distance relationship

𝐀/𝐍: I didn’t expect this to be so long. Also hey @lazyjellyfish300 remember this blurb?? We’ve got the smut🥳

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Saying goodbye to you wasn’t part of Miguel’s plan. As you prepare to leave Alchemax for a prestigious new role, Miguel struggles with the realisation that he’s about to lose more than just a colleague.

“What are you doing?”

Miguel watched intently as you packed away your belongings in a box, clearing up your workstation. It wasn’t just a casual clean up— this looked like something more final.

You meticulously removed the photos from the wall, gathered your notes, and neatly stacked your research papers. The once vibrant workstation, full of personality, now looked eerily bare.

“Clearing my work station.” you said matter-of-factory. His chest felt heavy with uneasy tension, a sense of foreboding growing with each second.

“Yeah, I got that much, genius,” he shot back, stepping closer and stopping right next to your desk. “Why are you clearing your desk?”

You turned to face him wordlessly, his question only carrying more weight between the two of you like an unwelcome guest. His mouth went dry as he locked eyes with you.

Up close, you always managed to take his breath away, a quiet beauty that never failed to stir something deep within him. But today, there was a different kind of tension in the air, a sense of finality that he couldn’t grasp.

“Well?” he prodded, though he had a sinking feeling that whatever was going to unfold would change everything.

“Well uhm…I put in my two weeks notice today.”

He almost choked at your words. This was worse than he anticipated. He thought maybe you were moving to a different workstation, not leaving the company entirely.

“What?” his voice was barely a whisper. He could feel his pulse thundering in his ears. You were leaving— he was losing you.

“I’ve been offered a lead geneticist position at another company. But it’s in Raleigh, so…I’m gonna have to move.”

You had worked as a research scientist at Alchemax for several years, and because of the nature of your work, you and Miguel collaborated on a daily basis.

Discussing experimental results, debating research protocols— it all came so naturally. Over time, what began as a professional respect grew into something more personal. And now, that bond was about to be severed.

You were leaving for a bigger, fancier job in North Carolina. The thought twisted something deep inside him and he struggled to keep himself together.

“I can’t turn it down. I’ve busted my ass on the application and the whole interview process.”

“Congrats…” The word came out strangled, forced through clenched teeth. Trying to talk without being overwhelmed with emotions was like trying to hold back a flood with a paper dam.

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.” you half-joked, but there was a note of concern in your voice.

You were right, his response wasn’t the best cover-up for his true feelings. The mere idea of you leaving filled him with dread, despair and most of all, jealousy.

“Of course I’m happy for you. I know you’ve been working hard— you deserve the opportunity.” He managed to hide most of his turmoil behind a cold wall of control. But deep down, the words felt hollow.

He knew he had no right to feel this way. You had every right to leave, to seize this incredible opportunity. This wasn’t something that came around often, and he didn’t want to be the one to hold you back.

You set the box down on the desk— the box that held all your belongings. “I’ll still be here for another two weeks.”

“Two weeks…” he echoed, the words sticking in his throat like a curse.

Two weeks. How was that enough time to prepare for losing you? What was he supposed to do after that? Just accept that you were gone? His heart couldn’t take that.

“I’ll visit Nueva York whenever I get the chance,” you said, trying to sound reassuring.

“You better. You’re not allowed to just drop off the face of the earth once you’re gone…” it was getting harder to keep his tone light.

“Of course…Nueva York and Alchemax aren't going to leave my mind anytime soon.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of us every now and then…and I’m certain this place won’t forget you…”

“I doubt it.” you scoffed, a bit of edge to your voice. “The higher ups will probably replace me before I even step foot in North Carolina.”

Miguel’s heart sank at the thought, though he knew there was some truth to it. The idea of someone else taking your place, of your work station filled with notes and projects by another rando, was too much to bear.

He could already picture the empty space where your personal touch used to shine through, replaced by some faceless new hire who was unaware how amazing you were

“Yeah, knowing them, they’ve probably already written up your job description, listing your position open for applications.” he sighed solemnly.

The company never had the best moral compass when it came to their employees, and would replace anyone that wasn’t serving their needs in a heartbeat.

“It’s okay, I’m sure I’ve left my mark here, even if I feel like I didn’t do much.”

Miguel almost let out a laugh in disbelief. You were always such a hard-worker, always a quick-thinker. You had single-handedly helped him out more times than he could count.

Another company had even recognised your talent and wanted you to work for them…yet you still doubted your capabilities.

“Are you serious? You’re irreplaceable. You’ve saved my ass more times than I could remember.” His voice was firm now, desperate to make you see things from his view.

“Mhmm.” You hummed. “Now, I’ll soon be the lead geneticist in another company, just like you.”

The enthusiasm in your tone was impossible to miss, and it reflected in your eyes. It should have made Miguel happy for you, and in a way, it did.

But the guilt still gnawed at him, guilt that he couldn’t match your excitement. Deep down, all he wanted was for you to stay, for purely selfish reasons.

“Yeah…just like me.” he repeated your words, the tiniest edge of bitterness creeping into his voice.

You didn’t seem to notice. “I guess all those late nights of research finally paid off. And all your teachings too.”

Miguel recalled all those nights together— just the two of you, the lab quiet save for the hum of machines and the scratch of pen on paper.

Mundane tasks became memorable simply because you were there. The memories sent a shiver up his spine, a bittersweet reminder of what he was about to lose.

It was a painful realisation that not everything lasts forever, especially the good things.

“Don’t count all this success as being attributed to just me, you did a lot of studying, too.” he chuckled lightly. “You really put in the hard work…you earned it.”

But even as he spoke, the words tasted bitter. Even if he was proud of you, it didn’t make the ache in his chest any less potent.

He glanced back at the box on your desk. No one could replace you— not in the lab, and certainly not in his life.

“But, I wouldn’t be here without you, so I have to give you some credit.” you smiled warmly. “If I ever win an award in this field and they make me stand on those podiums and talk to a huge audience, I’ll be sure to mention your name.”

Miguel felt his stomach flip at your words. He was at a loss for words. You’d mention his name if you won an award? He didn’t realise he had made such an impact on you— to be someone you viewed as admirable enough to acknowledge publicly.

The thought alone could possibly make him faint. To have his name mentioned in such a light by you…it was almost too much to handle.

He swallowed thickly. “Ah…you don’t have to go that far. I’m just some scientist,” he said coolly, though his pulse quickened. “Really, you’re gonna go places, make a name for yourself— you don’t need to credit me.”

“But I will. You've been a big part of my career here,” you insisted.

Your words hit Miguel square in the chest. You were adamant about recognising his role in your life. It was almost overwhelming, the way you considered him to be that much of an integral part of you.

He forced out a playful scoff, hoping to mask the surge of emotions rising in him.

“Yeah, I guess I helped you with some projects…but don’t go listing me as some co-author in your resume.”

You laughed softly. “Don’t worry, I know my limits.”

~

The next few days felt like treading on thin ice, where one wrong move could crack the fragile tension between the two of you.

Since the day you told him you were leaving, you’ve been unusually reserved, quieter than usual— a shift that didn’t go unnoticed by Miguel.

The sudden change in your energy tightened the coil of anxiety in his chest, and it was made worse by his inability to figure out why you were acting this way.

Whenever he would look your way, you always seemed distracted, lost in thought. Your responses were always brief and you would only speak when spoken to.

Miguel couldn’t help but feel concerned over you, but he was hesitant to ask you about it, not wanting to intrude or overstep any boundaries.

One evening, you both found yourselves working late again in his lab alone. The atmosphere was quiet— filled with the soft sounds of typing and the occasional shuffle of papers.

Miguel couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at you. You were staring at your work, but he could tell your focus was elsewhere, lost in your own thoughts that were weighing you down.

As the evening wore on, the solitude of the lab and the waning hours seemed to offer the right moment. His concern outweighed his hesitation, and he turned his chair to face you.

“You’ve been quiet all day. Is everything okay?” He asked gently.

You looked up at him from your papers. The lightning highlighted the tiredness in your eyes, your expression weary and distant.

“Yeah, just thinking.” you mused.

“Is it about leaving? Are you upset?”

He could see the hesitation in your face, your eyes darting away from him and focused on the desk in front of you. “It’s not about leaving…well, maybe it is, in a way.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been thinking about how I’ve been in relationships…you know, what I wanted, what I didn’t get. I’m starting to wonder if maybe I’ve been asking for too much.”

Miguel blinked, taken back by your admission. He hadn’t expected that, but now that you brought it up, he was curious to know more.

“Too much? What could you possibly have asked for that was too much?”

“Just…little things. Being held, feeling safe, someone who actually listens after a long day,” you replied. He didn’t miss the tinge of bitterness in your voice. “I thought those were normal things to want, but it was like… like they were a burden to give.”

Hearing you feel so unappreciated made his chest tighten with frustration. How could someone make you think you were asking for too much? You deserved everything you asked for and more.

“That’s not too much to ask. It’s not a burden— it’s what you deserve.”

This wasn’t a passing thought; it was clear you’d been hurt before. The idea that someone had made you feel unworthy of love you craved infuriated him.

If you were with him, you wouldn’t even have to ask for that. He’d give you everything you wanted, and then some.

You let out a tired sigh, still not fully convinced by his words. “Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever find that. Or I’m chasing something unrealistic.”

No, don’t think that.

“You deserve someone who will give you all of that.”

You looked up at him. He could tell his words resonated with you when he saw something hopeful in your eyes. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” he said— he kept his tone low, hiding the fierce enthusiasm he felt. He could go on about everything you deserved, but he didn’t want to come off as desperate. “And if you have found it yet, it’s not because you’re asking too much.”

There was so much more he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do— but he held himself back. He wanted to pull you into his embrace, just to share your warmth.

He wasn’t going to confess to you, that wasn’t the smartest move. Instead he pushed his feelings down for your sake, and pretended his love for you was just platonic.

“Are you in a relationship?” you asked suddenly.

Miguel had to hold himself back from giving a puzzled look. You’ve worked together for years now— wasn't it obvious that he was single? Maybe he’d been too vague about his love life, that was probably why you were asking.

He thought that by never mentioning a partner, it made him seem more available to you. But it seems you’ve overlooked that.

Not that he was inexperienced. He had his fair share of relationships— some short-lived, others too casual to be called serious.

They were a balance of good and bad, each leaving him with lessons to learn.

But he could confidently say that none of them had ever made him feel the way you did. He longed to express that with you, to tell you why you had his heart wrapped around your finger. But he knew that would only complicate things more.

“No…haven’t been in one in a while.”

And you’re the reason, he wanted to add.

“What about you? Found anyone special yet?” A small part of him dreaded to hear you answer, even if either response wouldn’t serve him any good.

“No.”

If you weren’t leaving the company, that answer would’ve brought him joy. But now, knowing that you were available it made the situation more poignant— a reminder that he had missed his chance.

Ironically, it would’ve given him more clarity if you said yes.

He had gotten used to concealing his true feelings since the day you told him that you’ve given your two weeks notice. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

So he offered you a reassuring smile instead, “Don’t worry. You’ll find someone who will cherish you the way you deserve.”

I’m right over here.

From the look of your face lifting up, he knew he managed to sound convincing and encouraging.

“I do have my eyes on someone though…” you added.

Your words echoed in his head and wrapped around his throat like a vice. A storm of emotions hit him all at once, leaving him struggling to navigate through the confusion.

On one hand, he was dying to know who you were referring to. On the other, he felt shattered that someone else managed to make their way into your heart and he wasn’t even aware of it.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking. “Oh really? What are they like?”

Each question he asked felt like digging himself deeper into a pit he might never climb out of. Even while he forced himself to act neutral, it was hard to predict when the nonchalant facade would eventually crack.

You let out a sheepish laugh before answering. ”Well…he’s pretty tall,”

Miguel’s mind raced through every tall colleague he could think of, analysing every conversation you’d had with them, and trying to think back to any clues that would give away your feelings for them.

Miguel knew he was probably being overly cautious, but his instincts flared up. It wasn’t just his jealousy— though there was no denying that he was feeling a tinge of envy— but he didn’t want to see you get hurt by anyone.

Especially after what you revealed to him earlier. But he brought those thoughts to the side for a moment and continued to listen to you.

“He’s… a little grumpy but that’s what adds to his charm,” you added. There was something reflecting in your eyes, a sparkle that he couldn’t quite grasp, but he dismissed it.

Grumpy? You found that charming? He thought back to all those times you had called him grumpy.

His stomach fluttered as he felt a new sense of hope. But he didn’t let that sway his judgment and got optimistic too quickly.

“What else do you like about him?” Miguel asked. Deep down, Miguel felt a change of heart and he was desperate to know more, hoping that there was even the slightest chance that it might be him.

“He’s always there when I need him, even though he tries to hide it, he secretly has a heart of gold.”

You were killing him, little by little, with every answer you were giving him. It was all the qualities he was proud to have, yet he still felt doubtful.

He managed a small smile, trying to hide the longing in his heart. “Sounds like a good man. I’m sure he’s lucky to have your affection.”

“Yeah. I really hope he feels the same. Otherwise, all those coffees I gave him would be a waste,” you let out a sigh, clearly lost in thought about the man you admired.

You couldn’t have been more obvious. His heart fluttered as he recalled all those coffees you would give him in the mornings, especially during your joint projects.

Thank the stars that he was a master at keeping a tight lid on his feelings. There was no way he was going to let his excitement show— not yet, not until he was sure

“Those coffees?” he asked. “Why do you give them to him?”

“I was hoping I’d stand out to him and not just be a colleague he sits with.”

“Stand out? What other things are you willing to do?”

“Maybe offer to help with his paperwork— if he doesn’t mind.”

Miguel couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but his heart swelled with happiness with each word. You wanted to stand out to him. Offer to do his paperwork.

You didn’t have to do all of that to get his attention; he had eyes on you for a long time, but all these little things you did were an added bonus.

“Do you think I should buy him more coffee?” you asked, you gaze locked with him, searching for his approval. You were asking for his opinion too.

“Coffee’s a good ice breaker. Maybe you could add a little note too, I bet he’ll notice you after that,” he kept his tone casual, but Miguel couldn’t stop the grin tugging at his lips.

You looked so eager, willing to take whatever advice. After all, if you were talking about him, you’d take his advice even more seriously, right? It only made sense.

“Maybe you could ask him out on a casual date, nothing too big. Just to see how he reacts,” he teased, way too excited with how you’ll respond.

Will you ask him out now?

“You know…I think I’ll call him now,” you got up to leave the room.

Everything came crashing down on him in an instant. His heart shattered, taking all his hopes with it. So, you weren’t talking about him after all.

“Ah, alright…good luck with that,” he tried to maintain a neutral tone, but the strain in his voice betrayed him.

The weight of his unrequited love pressed heavily on his chest, it was almost palpable. Each step you took away felt like a knife twisting deeper into his heart.

How could he have been so foolish? Of course, it wouldn’t be him.

From the sound of your footsteps, you walked a few doors down, away from his earshot. You probably didn’t want him to overhear.

Sadness and disappointment surrounded him like a suffocating fog as he slumped back at his desk. He hadn’t heard from you in half an hour.

You were either working up the courage to call your love interest or caught in an extended conversation. But what he didn’t expect was to see your name pop up on his phone screen when his phone rang.

Although he didn’t want to hear how your conversation went, he still wanted to be supportive. He loved you too much to ruin your happiness.

He cleared his throat, bracing himself for whatever you had to say, expecting to have his heart shattered again, before picking up the phone. “Hello?”

“Oh, don’t say ‘hello’ like you haven’t saved my number,” you teased.

Miguel forced out a chuckle, trying to match your lightheartedness. “You got me there. Of course I have your number saved. So, how did it go?” he asked, his voice filled with forced anticipation, even as his heart pounded in his chest.

“Well, that guy I was talking about earlier…”

You left the sentence hanging, as if daring him to grasp the meaning. Miguel cleared his throat, keeping his composure and hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his pain. “Go on…what happened?”

There was a pause that went on for a few seconds, but it was enough to make his stomach twist as he waited for your response. Finally, you spoke.

“Well, did you know that it was you and were just acting clueless? Or did you not pick that up, yet?” you asked.

Miguel froze, the words processed in his mind. For a moment, he was stunned into silence, his grip tightening around the phone near his ear. His mind replayed the conversation you had just shared to see if he missed anything.

Then, a small smile slowly crept on his face, a mix of disbelief and dawning realisation. Now, hearing you confirm that it was true, he couldn’t hide his relief and the warmth that spread across his chest.

“I…uh…had…my suspicions,” he stuttered, his voice thick with emotion. “But hearing you say it now…it means more than you know.”

He paused for a moment, realising he might be sounding too eager, too vulnerable. “But what did you mean when you said ‘did you not pick that up’? Was it…was it not obvious that I had feelings for you too?”

“No, actually.”

A soft sigh of relief escaped Miguel’s lips. He’d tried so hard to keep his feelings for you hidden, fearing rejection to avoid an awkward situation that might follow, especially with you leaving the city.

But knowing now that he hadn’t been as obvious he feared— that you hadn’t noticed— was a strange comfort. Still, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder how things might have been different if he’d confessed first. Would he have had the courage? Probably not, even with your imminent departure.

“Well…now that we both know how we feel, what does that mean for us? Are you…happy that I have feelings for you too?”

“Duh.”

Miguel let out a chuckle at your blasé response. The tension in his chest from earlier was starting to ease, allowing him to bask in the moment.

But the reality of your limited time here was starting to set in, dulling his joy with a stab of regret.

“So…you’re still leaving, huh?” he couldn’t hide the solemn tone in his voice.

“Yeah, I am. But that doesn’t mean this has to end before it starts.”

His heart stuttered at that. “You really think we could make it work.”

“If we both want it, I don’t see why not.” The determination in your voice was palpable, even through the phone. It made him feel more desired than ever.

“I want it. More than anything. And right now, I really want to kiss you.”

“Hold on, let me come to you,” you hung up the phone and Miguel could hear your footsteps getting closer.

Once you finally arrived, you looked back up at him. Miguel could see the eagerness and the tinge of mischief in your eyes.

“Kiss me please.”

At that moment, he knew there was no use waiting any longer. His lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this alive.

He couldn’t believe this was really happening, he had always dreamed of this moment but now that he was experiencing it in person, it felt too surreal to be real.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as his lips moved lovingly against yours. Breaking the kiss, he took a moment to study your face.

He wanted to kiss you again, to tell you sweet nothings that he had been holding back for so long. But he knew he had to compose himself and give you a moment to breathe.

“Lock the doors,” your voice echoed in his mind, sending his mind into a frenzy. He chuckled but still obliged, giving you both a newfound privacy.

Everything else felt like a blur and the next moment, he was unbuttoning your shirt and tossing it to the side. He didn’t waste any time doing the same to your pants.

His throat went dry when he noticed the wet patch on your undies, a sign that you were just as turned on as he was.

Just as infatuated.

It drove him crazy. As he leaned in, he felt your hands hike up under his shirt too. He took this as a sign to remove it, his toned body now in full view. His muscle’s glistened under the light.

He pressed your bare chest against his— the raw feeling of your skin against his was pure ecstasy. He lifted your body with ease and set you on a clear desk.

His body was still pressed against yours as he kissed over your neck and down your collar bone. He felt so lucky to have you in his arms like this, even better in his lab.

You were finally his…

He knelt down between your legs, his hands caressing over each thigh. His lips found your inner thigh, kissing over your skin, dangerously close to your core.

It was his ultimate goal to memorise every curve and crevice of your skin, what made you tick and all your favourite spots you liked to be touched. He wanted to savour this moment as much as he could.

His tongue slowly ran over your soaked cunt, finally getting a taste of you. Immediately, you gasped and your legs twitched in response.

You tasted incredible, or maybe that was just the heat of the moment. He continued to pleasure you with his mouth, his tongue tracing delicious, slow patterns around your sensitive bud.

He heard you gasp out his name which motivated to continue. His hand reached up to intertwine with yours, his touch grounding and tender as he continued to pleasure you with his mouth.

“Oh God…right there, Miguel—”

Your free hand reached into his scalp and gently tugged on his curls. Feeling your hips grinding against his tongue only drove him further, desperate to coax your orgasm.

That’s it…

Give yourself to me.

He knew the moment you reached your peak when he felt you tighten your grip on his hair and cry out his name. Seeing the way you threw your head back in the throes of your climax sent an overwhelming shiver through his body— a sensation he couldn’t describe.

Your body convulsed against his mouth as you squirted on his tongue— and he licked you clean eagerly. Finally, he pulled his mouth away, his tongue leaving your body with a final, tantalising flick.

He ran his fist across his mouth to rid your wetness before rising up to his feet. You were completely spent, your body limp and your breath came out ragged.

Your legs were still shaking from your fresh release. He couldn’t help but glide over your cheeks, his thumb tracing over your cheekbone.

He felt you lean into his touch as he savoured the feel of your skin beneath his fingers.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours.

You let out a shaky laugh, catching your breath. “Like this? All sweaty and musty? You must really love me then…”

Only you would throw a sarcastic comment after he ate you out. After a moment of stillness, you came down from your high. He spread your legs apart as he hovered over you on the desk.

The precum that leaked from his tip mixed with your wetness as he positioned his tip over your entrance. Slowly, he pushed himself in and was immediately overwhelmed by your cushiony grip over his tip.

Your fingers gripped onto his biceps, keeping yourself steady as he pushed further. Once he bottomed out, you lifted your head to see the light bulge on your belly.

A sense of pride washed over him, seeing your eyes feast on the lewd sight of him filling you up. Every inch of him was all yours.

He dragged himself out with your wetness coating his dick before pushing back in again. His body moved against yours in a perfect harmony, every motion was driven to heighten the pleasure between the two of you.

As the ecstasy reached a new height, Miguel’s body trembled slightly. He couldn’t resist letting out a soft moan followed by your name, his voice filled with all the love he had for you.

“Just like that…” you murmured against his lips.

Hearing your praise, Miguel’s lips curled into a smile, his expression filled with a mixture of confidence and pride.

Every stroke hit a new depth, sending a shiver through both of you.

All he could think about was being connected with you in every way possible. Physically. Emotionally. He angled himself so his pelvic bone could rub and stimulate your bundle of nerves.

“Miguel-!”

You let out a cry when he changed his pace, your nails digging into his back. He wanted you to feel him for weeks, remembering this night. Each sharp, precise thrust, hitting your sweet spot over and over and driving you over the edge.

He could feel his own peak crawling up with each passing second. His thrusts grew more desperate and frenzied, aiming to chase his high with your body wrapped around his own.

“Look at me…I want to see you,” he breathed.

The sight of you under him, taking everything he was giving you, sent him over the edge. His body tensed as he reached the pinnacle of his own climax.

With one last thrust deep into your heat, his cum pulsated into you in strong waves. He stayed balled deep until each were drained and waited for a moment before he pulled his hips back.

He felt withdrawal as he released himself from your grip, his deflated dick now hung between his legs.

His body slumped weakly against yours, the intensity of the moment leaving him content and blissfully exhausted. The world around him faded into the background. In that instant, everything felt perfect.

The pulse in his ears gradually quieted to a gentle hum, and his muscles started to relax as he settled against you.

As he kept his arms around you, holding you close, he felt at peace for the first time in what felt like ages. It all felt so right— like this was exactly where he was supposed to be.

He wanted to stay like this, savouring the closeness, but your soft gasp tugged at his concerns.

“Are you okay?” he asked, still feeling lightheaded from the afterglow. “What’s wrong?”

You quickly sat up on the desk, adjusting your clothes with a sense of urgency. “We need to put our clothes back on.”

The seriousness in your voice jolted back into reality. The sterile scent of the lab and the harsh fluorescent lights snapped into sharp focus, reminding him where you were. He carefully pulled himself away from you, his mind scrambling to catch up.

As he gathered his clothes from the floor and desk, the remnants of your passion, he couldn’t help but glance back at you— disheveled, flushed and utterly captivating.

Once he was fully dressed, he looked at you with amusement. “I think we can slip out before anyone asks what we’ve been up to,” he teased with a grin.

You buttoned your shirt, still appearing slightly frantic. “Did we make a mess?”

Miguel scanned the lab, his eyes sweeping over the desk and the floor. He didn’t spot any obvious signs of a mess, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. The weight of what had just happened hung in the air.

Still, the room would be locked overnight— no one would see anything.

“Well…” he replied with a casual shrug. “I’m not too worried about any physical evidence. As long as they didn’t hear you cry out my name.”

You shot him a mildly annoyed look, pressing your lips together. “We should clock out before anyone suspects us.”

Just as you were about to move, Miguel gently pulled your arm. “Before we go…I need to know if this is something you truly want. Not just a temporary escape.” His voice was soft with vulnerability as he searched your eyes.

Your lips curled up into a reassuring smile. “Let’s go out to dinner and talk more there.”

Miguel’s eyes sparkled, the tension on his shoulders lifting. The idea of an intimate dinner, just the two of you, felt like the perfect addition to the connection you had just deepened.

He felt a sense of triumph as he allowed himself to experience this with you after the long, silent yearning.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’d love to have dinner,”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Come on then, let’s get out of here.”

Miguel quickly switched off the lights and locked up before taking your hand in his. The two of you stepped out into the crisp night air, leaving the lab— and its memories— behind.

~

Miguel sat behind the wheel of his car, gripping on the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. You both agreed that he’d drive you to the airport, allowing you to spend these last moments together.

The car ride was silent, save for the occasional crackling of the chip packet in your hands. Miguel's eyes flickered towards you as you reached for another chip. You seemed calm and collected, but he knew better.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, to break the silence, but nothing came out. Words that normally flowed so easily from him were caught in his throat. What could he possibly say that would make it any easier?

“Do you want some?” you offered, holding out the bag.

He shook his head, lips twitching into a forced smile. “I’m not really hungry right now.”

His eyes were back on the road. The thought of food was the furthest thing from his mind right now. All he could think about was the impending goodbye as the streets of Nueva York blurred past.

“Are you okay?” your voice, a soft caress.

He let out a dry, humorless laugh. Of course he wasn’t okay. How could he be? But he nodded anyway, giving you a reassuring smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m fine…just a little nervous about dropping you off at the airport, that’s all.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either.

The truth was too raw, too painful, to voice. He didn’t want to admit how devastating he was and burden you with his feelings, not now.

“I’ve never done anything this big before.” you confessed. He could hear the uncertainty in your voice. “Moving to a completely different state…”

He felt a mix of sadness and pride in his chest. He was so proud of you for taking such a big step, but at the same time, he wished things were different and you could stay with him a little longer.

If only he had known sooner, maybe he would have had the courage to confess— to hold you close and never let you go. To have you to himself just a little longer.

“I know, it’s a big deal,” he tried to sound comforting. “But you’re smart, and capable, and I know you’re gonna do amazing.”

“Thanks, I needed that reassurance.” you sighed. “I’m a little nervous. What if I don’t fit in and I’m too…Nueva York-y for them.”

With one hand, Miguel reached over and gently squeezed your thigh, while the other gripped the steering wheel.

He tried to radiate some of his warmth and comfort, despite his emotions swirling like a vortex inside him.

“You’re going to fit in just fine. You’re the most adaptable person I know. And even if you are a bit ‘Nueva York-y’, as you put it, I think the people of North Carolina could use a bit of that.”

He glanced back at you, catching the flicker of unease in your eyes. It was refreshing to know that, despite your excitement, you were still feeling the same apprehension that had been eating him.

It gave a sense of connection— knowing this change was just as daunting to you as it was for him.

“You’re going to enlighten them with your 'Nuyorican’ charm, trust me,” he said lightly.

As the airport car park came into view, Miguel felt a shudder. The moment of truth was closing in with each passing second. The parking lot was busy, surrounded by the hum of engines and the distant echo of rolling suitcases.

Once he found a parking space, he switched off the engine and sighed— the sound heavy with the weight of unspoken words. Part of him wanted to stay rooted in his seat, to delay the inevitable just a little longer.

But he knew better. There was no escaping this. No loophole.

Even if it killed him.

He stepped out of the car and opened the trunk. The reality of the situation was hitting him as he helped you with your luggage. This was really happening.

Inside the terminal, the building was bustling with activity— people rushing to catch flights, families reunited, and others parting with goodbyes. The overhead announcements echoed across the vast space, creating a backdrop of noise.

But the chaos felt distant to Miguel, like it was happening in another world. His entire focus was on the small details of you— how tightly you gripped the suitcase handle, the way your eyes darted around and scanning signs to find where you were supposed to go.

Every little movement you made seemed to carve into his memory, as if he were trying to etch these final moments into his mind.

He tried to keep himself distracted by glancing at the departure board, watching to see when your flight’s status changed to ‘boarding’. Meanwhile, you checked in your flight and dropped off any checked baggage.

Once that was done, Miguel walked with you to the security gates. His heart grew heavier with each step. The moment of separation was looking closer and closer like a looming shadow.

“Alright…this is it…” you announced, finally reaching the security gates. Only ticketed passengers could pass, so this was where he would have to let you go.

There were a few guards already waving people through, urging the crowd to keep moving. The noise of shuffling feet, distant conversations, and the occasional beep of the scanners filled the air, but it all seemed muted to Miguel. He looked back at you one last time, his heart hammering in his chest.

He wanted to say something— anything— to keep you from leaving. Words like ‘don’t go’ or ‘I love you’ hovered on the top of his tongue, but he knew they were pointless. You were leaving, the ticket was booked, and nothing he could say would change that.

“I’m… I’m gonna miss you…” the word felt insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But they were the only truth he could manage.

He knew it was pathetic to confess that now, like it wasn’t obvious already, like it was going to change anything.

“I want to give you something…” you reached for your bag, and Miguel’s breath caught in his throat when he saw what you pulled out— a Polaroid picture.

He took the picture from you, a nostalgic smile spread across your face when he saw the image. It was a picture from your early days at Alchemax, back when he had still been pretending to be annoyed with you.

In the photo, he was giving his signature grumpy glare, arms crossed over his broad chest, while you stood behind him and grinning widely. You were not bothered at all by his gruff demeanor.

“I wanted to wait until the last minute to give it to you,” you rubbed your neck sheepishly.

Miguel chuckled at your words. It was so typical of you, waiting to give him something special at just the right moment.

“Of course you did.” he replied fondly, his fingers tracing the picture gently. He slipped the photo in his wallet, a place where he could keep it close. “It’s perfect…thank you,”

It was more than just a picture, it was a snapshot of a moment in time, a memory he’d hold onto long after you were gone.

You look back up at him, your expression earnest and vulnerable. “Bésame?”

“Con mucho gusto, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he closed the distance between the two of you.

He cradled your face in his hands, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. His lips traced over the contour of yours, savouring the moment before fully capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

The kiss was everything— desperate, filled with unspoken words and unfulfilled yearnings. He wanted to hold onto this moment forever, to keep you with him like this just a little longer, but he knew he had to let you go.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, though he rested his forehead on yours, his breath becoming in ragged gasps.

“Be safe, okay?” he murmured.

“I’ll call you when I land...if I get any signal,” you replied with a shaky smile.

You start to queue up for the security gates, your luggage trailing behind you. Miguel’s heart twists as the line slowly gets shorter, the distance between you growing with each passing second.

He couldn’t do anything but watch with his hands shoved deep in his jeans pockets. His eyes were fixated on your figure, memorising every last detail of you.

He knew that once you went through those gates, he would never be able to kiss you, or hold you, or touch you.

Just as you disappeared out of sight, behind the security gates, the airport intercom called out your flight number and announced the final boarding call.

He watched the departure board change to ‘In Air’ which was the final push to turn away. He walked back to his car, the Polaroid photo in his wallet burned into his psyche.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @nina-from-317 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @cupcakeinat0r @club-danger-zone @kavimoo

@fullmetalgizzy @frogs-and-oscar-brainrot @embearlyhere @soymiguelsesposa @twwcs

@safixiovi @tatatida @ghostsdoll @hyjionie @tomalymme

@saintdiior

Look, I know the smut seems a little rushed here but I didn’t want to focus on the spice in this story but rather the bittersweet, emotionally rollercoaster.

Ayrus xoxo

[ambers-archive]

got love struck ❤︎ ࿐ ۫ .˚ ✧ ˚　

in which spencer wants your anniversary to be perfect, but everyday is perfect with you. word count: 2.1k cw: purple scarf cameo, idiots in love, fluff, happy ending, established relationship. (english isn't my first language, minimal proofread!) pt1 what if all i need is you (can be read as standalone)

Spencer closed the tab on his computer, a frustrated scowl forming on his lips. For days, he’d been scouring the internet, spending sleepless nights hunched over his desk, searching for the perfect anniversary gift for you. It was your first year together, and everything had to be perfect.

But nothing felt right. Every idea he considered was quickly dismissed. He shut his eyes, trying to quiet his overthinking mind.

You two met at his favorite coffee place, he noticed you right away when he realized you stole his seat. 

You had yourself perched against the chair nuzzled against the rest of the wall. 

And after a week of ogling you across the room he finally got enough courage to start a conversation over a book you were reading. Then with shaky fingers and some mumbling he finally had the courage to ask you out, suggesting a tour of the city since you just moved.

Spencer knew his demanding work schedule wasn’t easy on you. You were so patient, understanding, and kind—perhaps too kind, he often thought. Canceled dinner dates, postponed trips, missed laughs, and missed love were all too common. Yet despite it all, you always met him with a reassuring smile.

“I know you’re busy saving lives,” You had told him once, as the two of you cuddled in bed after the third missed date in a row. He hadn’t had anything better to offer than a string of apologies, and he feared one day it wouldn't be enough.

“Hey pretty boy, what’s got you so upset?” Morgan asked, his voice pulling Spencer out of his thoughts.

Spencer took a moment to collect himself before turning to Morgan. “I’m trying to figure out a good anniversary gift for her.”

In a room full of profilers he didn’t think they’d be so keen on his social cues, but of course they noticed him constantly fidgeting and sneaking quick glances at his phone. 

Emily was the first to find out about you.

The teasing lasted months.

Penelope was rushing toward his desk with her tea in one hand and Morgan’s coffee in the other.

“You have to go all out!” Garcia exclaimed, barely containing her excitement. “Chocolates, flowers—oh, please tell me you’ve got the whole day planned!”

“Calm down, baby girl,” Morgan laughed, taking his coffee. “I’m sure our genius over here has something in mind.”

Spencer sighed. “I want to make it special since it’s our first anniversary, but I just don’t know what she’d like.”

“Well, what are her love languages?” Penelope asked, ready to unleash her vast knowledge of relationships.

“I think it’s quality time,” Spencer replied, a small smile playing on his lips as he thought about you. “She’s always engaged in our conversations, making strong eye contact, putting her phone away, asking questions. She also lingers after dates.”

He paused, recalling the moments you’d linger on your doorstep after he drove you home, the way you’d breathe him in after a kiss, your forehead resting against his. “She never seems in a rush to leave, like she values every moment we spend together.”

Morgan grinned, leaning back in his chair with a knowing look. “There you go, pretty boy. Think about what she loves, what makes her happy. That’s the key.”

Spencer nodded picked up his phone, scrolling through the list he’d made of all your favorite things.

He stopped on a picture of you smiling back at him from the screen, a photo he’d taken during one of your many picnics. Your hair had been flowing in the wind, your eyes crinkled with your smile as you explained the meaning behind one of your favorite songs. It was the same photo that graced both his phone and laptop backgrounds.

“She loves almost every kind of art,” he whispered, his heart swelling with affection. “Renaissance literature, realism paintings, classic books. And she’s really outdoorsy too.”  He whispered, his heart expanding, pumping. thump, thump- laced with love.

He thought about the countless picnic dates, the times you’d coaxed him out of bed for a run or a hike. His mind wandered to what you might be doing right now—your second class of the day had likely started, and he imagined you taking notes, doodling in the margins.

Penelope and Morgan exchanged amused glances, their lips quivering with smiles as they listened to Spencer’s lovesick ramblings.

“Looks like Reid’s got it bad,” Morgan whispered to Garcia, who stifled a giggle behind her hand.

“He really does,” she agreed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Spencer hadn’t seen you in two weeks, four days, twenty-three minutes, and fourteen seconds—far too long. He didn’t want to waste another moment as he approached your door, your favorite flowers in hand. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait another second, as you opened the door before he could even knock.

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. Every day, he found himself falling for you more and more. You gave him a shy smile, stepping out to wrap your arms around his taller frame. He hugged you back immediately, burying his head in the crook of your neck. When you finally pulled apart, he took a proper look at you, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sunlight. In that moment, and in every other, you were the epitome of beauty—a vision that left him utterly mesmerized.

“These are for you,” Spencer said softly, offering you the peonies. He realized they paled in comparison to you, but nonetheless, he held them out.

“You never forget them, Spence,” you said, your voice equally soft. Spencer chuckled, half-offended that you’d think he ever could—eidetic memory or not.

“I’m glad you like them,” he replied, taking your hand as he led you to his car, opening the door for you. “I have the whole day planned.”

“Yeah?” Your head rises of its own accord against the car seat. 

"I really want it to be perfect." 

It’s already perfect because how much better can it get you thought? You're in his car, your favorite songs playing in the background and his hand never leaves your side. 

“It already is.” You say grazing your thumb over his knuckles. 

You finally reach the place away from everyone else. “There’s a trail nearby and a perfect place for a picnic.” Spencer whispers, slipping his hand into yours again. 

It fits so perfectly.

You smile, squeezing his hand “Lead the way.” 

In a field of daisies Spencer pulls out a blanket, carefully placing his gifts as he pats the spot next to him. You nestle against his taller frame, he smells like sandalwood, coffee, and home. 

“What are you thinking about?” You ask him, he smiles down at you playing with your hair absentmindedly. 

“You. Always you.” You get the familiar, but nevertheless oh-so welcome kick in your stomach every time he smiles at you. 

“What about you?” He asks in return, and you shrug, not able to convey all your emotions. 

“I'm thinking that I want my gifts.” You say slightly pouting.

With a shy smile, Spencer untangled himself from you and reached for the presents. He handed you a beautifully wrapped package and a small painting, both wrapped with care.

“I hope you like them,” he said, his voice tinged with nervousness.

Your eyes lit up as you unwrapped the gifts, revealing a limited edition of Sylvia Plath’s work—a book you’d mentioned offhandedly that you’d been searching for. Your gaze met his, overflowing with emotions you hadn’t known were possible. You always believed in love, but this? This was beyond anything you’d imagined. It made all the heartbreaks of the past worth it because they led you to him.

You abandoned the gifts, flinging yourself into his arms. He laughed, catching you as you both tumbled onto the grass. Spencer buried his face in the crook of your neck, holding you close.

“They’re perfect,” you whispered. “Thank you so much.”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed. “I’m glad you like them,” he replied, still holding you.

“How did you even find it?” you asked, marveling at the book.

“Brittney Johnson—remember the missing persons case we solved? Her dad’s a book collector. He was really grateful and said if we ever needed a favor, he’d be happy to help.”

You smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness. You’d spent so long building walls around yourself, convincing yourself you didn’t need a relationship. But with Spencer, those walls crumbled before you even had a chance to put them up.

“I also wrote you a card, my handwriting isn't the best, but I know you like words of affirmation” Spencer said, reaching into his bag. But before he could present it, dark clouds gathered overhead, and raindrops began to fall, dampening the ground.

“Seriously?” Spencer groaned, quickly sheltering you with his jacket. The chocolate and sandwiches were ruined, along with your clothes. The two of you hurried to the car, making sure the gifts were safe, and finally found shelter inside.

“I’m sorry our picnic was ruined, angel,” Spencer said, helping you fix your hair.

“It’s not ruined, Spence. We can have a night in, order some Chinese, and finish a new episode?” you suggested, trying to cheer him up.

“Yeah, sure,” he agreed, though he couldn’t hide his disappointment as he started the car.

𐙚 ✱ ❤︎ ࿐ ۫ .

Back at your apartment, the two of you hurried inside, drenched from the rain. You kicked off your shoes and quickly disappeared into your bedroom, returning with dry clothes for both of you. You handed Spencer his sweater, the one you’d “borrowed” long ago, and couldn’t help but smile as he accepted it.

“Hey, I was looking for this,” he said, pulling on the warm sweater.

“Sorry I stole it,” You replied, not the least bit apologetic.

He shook his head, following you to the kitchen, where you were setting up takeout containers on the counter. The sweater smells like you and he thinks he should let you keep it. It smells like cherries, winter warmth and like the love of his life.

“I love that you did. I feel closer to you whenever I wear it.”

You blushed, grateful he couldn’t see your flushed cheeks as you turned to grab plates. Spencer wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“This isn’t how I planned our anniversary,” he admitted, his voice soft. “I wanted everything to be perfect.”

You turned in his arms, cupping his cheek as you gazed into his warm eyes. “Spence, it was perfect. It’s not about the flowers or the gifts or the picnic. It’s about being with you.”

Before Spencer could respond, you gently stepped out of his embrace, suddenly remembering you still had his gift to give.

“I have a surprise for you,” you said with a smile, rummaging through the gift bag. You walked back to him, holding up a beautifully knitted purple scarf.

“My mom’s been teaching me how to knit, and this is the first thing I made. It’s for you. I know you get colds easily, and keeping your neck and chest warm can help reduce the shock of inhaling cold, dry air, which irritates your respiratory tract. I even stitched my name on the end, so a part of me is always with you.”

Spencer’s face lit up as he accepted the scarf, immediately noticing how it carried your familiar scent.

“This is so thoughtful,” he said, his eyes soft with appreciation. “I don’t think anyone’s ever been this concerned about my colds. Although, just so you know, wearing a scarf alone won’t prevent you from catching a cold. Colds are caused by viruses, usually spread through respiratory droplets or by touching contaminated surfaces.”

You smiled at his rambling, finding comfort in the way his mind worked—it was like a love language all its own. Chuckling softly, you wrapped the scarf around his neck, adjusting it just right.

“It’s the thought that counts, angel,” he said sincerely, his voice filled with warmth. “It’s already my favorite scarf.” He then brought your knuckles to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to them.

It's in the quiet, messy, beautifully imperfect moments like this, spencer thinks: where love is felt in every heartbeat, every glance, and every shared breath.

thank you so much for reading <33

[sweetnans]

Stuck in the moment || Bakugo, K. (pt.6)

Pairing: fuckboy Bakugo/hopelessly romantic fem. reader

summary: You made a mistake, a huge mistake. You fucked the most cocky, annoying, bastard, fuckboy you knew. Bakugo Katsuki. And that fact was against all your beliefs. Now, after the rumor (truth) spread like a pandemic virus in college you'll have to live with the stormy consequences of your acts and whatever trash was brought with it.

a/c: Hey, it's me again. Here we are in a new series I plan to continue. I really hope you enjoy it. I put my favorite man in action (bakugo) being a selfish bastard that you would love eventually and I couldn't help to put another "trope" I'm a sucker for (guardian/father figure Aizawa) I'm so sorry if that bothers you. Once again, I'm sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language. (Not proofread yet)

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 -> Pt.7 ♡

m.list

Bakugo was kinda fun to be around with. He actually made you laugh and not because of his faces every time you blurted the most unhinged question for him. He made you laugh verbally, with his own words, and the sentence wasn't one full of hate and despise. He was, without wanting it, fun.

For you, it fell like a truce, and the thought of being friends with him didn't scare you anymore. The second thoughts and plans of getting rid of him just by ignoring him disappeared along with the security that he was going to try something with you. He didn't.

You felt lightweight. Like a feather being carried with the breeze. Or that was Denki told you when you tried to verbalize what you felt. There was no weight on your shoulders anymore trying to dodge every bullet Bakugo threw at you just by being himself. You were walking on eggshells, and now it felt amazing that you weren't feeling distraught by just thinking of bumping into him in the hallways.

Somehow, that relieved your anxiety of having an upcoming date with Todoroki. You were planning on what to wear very calmly with Jirou's help and fantasizing how it would be.

You've made your peace.

Back in your real life, outside the mess of your head, you had to complete your homework and study for midterms. So you were genuinely happy that you could accomplish that without feeling so rachet about yourself.

"Is college more difficult than school?" Eri asked while you two were both doing your school/college chores in Aizawa's apartment.

"I don't know. I think you have to find a steady pace and find a good method to study, and everything should be fine. " You hummed your response, and she squinted at you. "What?"

"But you're like a genius, that doesn't count"

Eri had entered the age where she hated school. The rebellious phase for every teenager. She was still a cute girl who didn't give Aizawa any problem, but that didn't mean that it was easy trying to get her to do her homework.

"Well, you have brains too," you shrugged. "I know you don't like to do this stuff but at least we can spend some time together, like old times"

You loved her with your entire soul, and she welcomed you with open arms when Aizawa introduced you two. You both treated each other like sisters.

"Yeah, I think you're right." She smiled and directed her eyes to her assigment. "You've been kinda missing lately"

"It's been messy, not going to lie about it," you continued your writing while she was fidgeting with her pen.

"A boy, right?" She raised her eyebrow and smirked.

"What?" You dropped your pencil and looked at her nervously. You knew that Eri was very prone to hearing things without meaning it, and that was because Aizawa and Hizashi usually forgot that she's around when they speak things about college.

"I heard Aizawa talking to...I can't remember actually who, but he said something about a guy named Bakugo. I think I remember him, a loudly blonde guy with a grumpy face"

The thing about you two is that you always shared secrets. She constantly overheard things and never stuttered on telling or asking you whatever the topic was.

You constantly forgot how she was there before you. Like you were the older and you acted like an older sister for her but it was really weird that she, when she was little, used to be around them most of the time. You knew the war provoked that the grown-ups had to take their time to fix the world, so they asked students to babysit her. Mirio, one of the oldest, always stayed around. Even now, he made sure to have time to take her out. They went to amusement parks together, to the movies, to the arcade. Mirio had a busy life as a hero but never forgot his roots.

"Uhm, I don't know exactly what you heard, but it's just a friendship, nothing romantic, I swear." You were afraid that she had heard something about the one night stand you had with him, but you knew that even if Aizawa was oblivious about Eri eavesdropping, he would never share that piece of information with anyone.

"I don't mind. Your last boyfriend was a jackass so the set bar is pretty low." She said, waving her hand mindlessly.

With the teen years and rebellious age, as you can tell, she became savage.

"Accurately rude," you stated. "Anyways, just so you know and because I love you, I'm having a date this friday with the son of Endeavor"

The way she looked at you like you were joking made you cackle. You nodded, reaffirming your sentence, and she denied not believing you.

"The guy with the mismatched eyes?" You moved your head up and down, and she put both of her hands in her mouth. "He is cute"

"I know!" You giggled while she quickly closed her books.

"I need to know everything"

Aizawa scolded both of you for not finishing your chores before dinner but it was totally worth it.

...

On the other hand, Bakugo was still reminiscing the moment you appeared in his room the day before. His bento, clean and empty, was forgotten in his desk while he could still pictured you spinning in his chair.

The moment he watched you disappear, running after Todoroki was a decisive point in his mind. He only knew two emotions when it came to you, utterly giddy feelings that he didn't know he had, and that made him feel in constant denial and the second one, rage. Those feelings evolved in things more complicated. Rage evolved in stubbornness, prideful and insecurity. Why wasn't he good enough?

But then, you turned the things in your favor again, and he felt, aside from happy, vulnerable. Was that the only thing it took to have him back? A few 'I'm sorry' and a bag of cookies? If it was anyone, he would close the door at their nose, but it was you, and he couldn't help feeling the sincerity in your actions.

"What do you think about her?" Bakugo asked Denki, who was very busy trying to win a race in Mario Kart against Sero.

They were hanging in his room. After all, it was the only place available for stuff them all without annoying anyone. Sero and Denki were challenging themselves on Mario Kart, Kirishima was reading a sports magazine, and Mina was painting her nails.

"She is my best friend. I mean, aside from Jirou, " he answered, calculating a drift and avoiding a banana peel.

"Isn't she your girlfriend?" Sero chimed in, stumbling in the banana peel that Denki avoided before. "Oh man," he whined, seeing how toad twirled many times.

Mina started talking about you, how you seemed very nice but a little shy and how she was pretending to invite you for a drink or five. Bakugo's friend knew how he was, so he didn't mind asking about you with all of them there.

"Yep, but she's also my best friend. Anyway, forget about Jirou. " he turned the conversation about you again. "She's a very good friend, loyal. She's very attached to her past, but I don't blame her. She stays in between Jirou and me, like she's goofy funny and likes to throw silly jokes, but unlike me, she can ground herself very quickly, she doesn't need a Jirou to stay put. She's always supportive, and I'm really happy to have her"

Denki meant every word he said. He was very fond of you because you were so easy to be with. You didn't judge him for his lack of intellectual (academically) it was actually the opposite. Every time he felt down, you were the first one cheering him up and highlighting some other qualities he had.

"That's very manly bro" Kirishima threw both of his thumbs up with a big smile plastered on his face, completely forgetting he had a magazine on his hands.

"I really hope that you talk about me like that too, bunch of assholes!" Mina mumbled.

"Nah, we mostly talk about your lack of reasoning when you decide to wear animal print. That's so last decade!" Sero joked.

"You son of a bitch!" Mina yelled throwing him a pillow who ended up being one of the many reasons he lost in the race. "Haha, you deserved that loser." She stuck her tongue out, and Sero mimicked her.

"Please don't tear up my fucking room" Bakugo scolded them and they returned to their activities.

"Also, about Mina saying she's shy, she's not... she's chaotic in a way that no one expects her to be. You always see her so composed, but she's an entire other person once she's in his comfort zone. " Denki laughed at a memory that came back to his mind from one of the nights you two went out.

The last sentence of Denki had him motivated. He didn't need an excuse when it came to you, but he was eager and stubborn, and he needed to see with his own eyes that hidden part of you.

He knew exactly what he had to do.

...

You made your way back to your room when the sun was far from down. Eri and you turned the study session into a pancake dinner day. Save to say that Aizawa's white roof would never be white again unless he put all his soul to clean the stains of the batter away.

Rubbing your eyes because of the lack of sleep, you entered your building and walking like a zombie to your floor. You were happy to be alone. Jirou sent you a message that she would be staying at Denki's room for the night and you could never be happier. You were tired in a way that was draining your soul. Midterms were coming like a wave ready to crash adding the past event in your life that wreck the normality of it. But now, you had studied all the afternoon, you sure would have a good night of sleep and the Bakugo topic was more than solved.

Everything was making sense again. Oh and don't forget your upcoming date.

You let yourself breathe again and expand the capacity of your lungs like you were inhaling oxygen for the first time. It felt actually nice, it was like rebooting yourself just by doing so mundane like breathing.

"About time"

Nevermind.

Bakugo stood beside your room door looking hot as ever. He was wearing a black hoodie with his cap on, a matching jogger in his lower part.

"What are you doing here?" you whispered. It was late and there wasn't a soul around.

"I was running and decided to check on you" he shrugged when you stood in front of him squinting your eyes in disbelief. "Fine, there's one lie and one truth in that sentence"

You crossed your arms on top of your chest and he couldn't help eyeing your neckline.

"The truth is that I was running" he smirked and you rolled your eyes trying to hide your smile. Damn bastard. "Are we going to talk here? on the hallway?"

Taking the keys out of your pocket you reached to put them inside the lock, turning the knob after. Switching the lights, you dropped your bag in your desk and sat in your bed exhaling and laying yourself on top of the duvet.

"Did you bring food?" you asked to say something. Your stomach was full of pancakes but the thought of his cooking had you almost drooling.

"Nah, I have a proposal for you and if you say yes maybe and just maybe I'll reward you with a dish"

A proposal? You pushed your body up ready to read him. Was he joking? Maybe it was just like when he asked you to be friends or maybe it was something worse, like breaking his promise. You knew that accepting his friendship would have its perks, like the possibility of him trying to get under your pants. You were making mental jumps because of it. You knew very well the men like him, cocky, unreachable with superiority complex.

"It's not what you think" he huffed annoyed. "I'm not going to start an argument because of your lack of trust"

If you thought that you could read him, you were wrong and the worst part is that he could do that to you instead. Were you that transparent?

"I'm listening" you said trying to maintain your face neutral.

The vibe in the room changed, there wasn't that fun and easy-going atmosphere anymore. You were expecting the most mischievous proposal but instead, you were surprised when he opened his mouth.

"My mom is hosting a party and she's making me go with a plus one. I invited everyone but they all have plans. If I show up by myself she's going to be the death of me for the entire night" he murmured loud enough for you to hear. It seemed that just by saying that he was losing at least half of his pride.

"So you want me to go with you..." you stated the obvious.

"You're my last resource, don't let the invitation get over your head" he said breaking eye contact with you and rumaging through your stuff.

"Oh you do know how to make a girl feel special" you said sarcastically.

Laying down, you went back to your positions now, instead of just resting, thinking. The truth was that after imagining the worst case scenario you couldn't come with an excuse good enough to said no to him.

"What's the dress code?" you asked watching at your roof. You heard how he was picking every stuff from your desk as well as you did with his stuff on his room.

"Don't worry about it, I have something for you to wear" he answered nonchalantly

Of course he has. You said under your breath in exasperation. Now you were actually caged. There was no opportunity of saying no.

"Fine" you hummed in response.

Bakugo felt like his heart was about to explode. When he asked Denki about you and came with that idea he was expecting that you would be hard to crack. He had at least three different forms of convincing you to go to the party with him. He didn't use one.

"I'm going to pick you up tomorrow at six, be ready by that. I'll send the dress first thing in the morning"

He was finding hard to keep his neutral facade with you, like he wasn't excited about it.

"Tomorrow!?" you exclaimed standing in a quick movement. "Are you fucking with me?"

The look on your face was between a bottle of water in the middle of the dessert and a loudly clown in a silent room. He didn't know that he needed to see you in distress until now and he was quite amused at your panicked state.

"Yeah it's nothing just a stupid party with a lot of people" he rolled his eyes acting bored.

It didn't sound like nothing to you. You knew Bakugo's parents were important in the fashion industry and now he was dropping a bomb like it wasn't going about to explode in your face.

He grabbed the knob of your door and twisted it until the door was open in front of him.

"Don't you worry, it's not like there will be the most important people of Japan" he paused and then a wicked smile appeared on his face. "Oh shit, yeah there will"

He left you dumbfounded and alone with the train of thoughts that appeared right after he closed the door. And you thought you will be having a nice night of sleep? The world was messing with you again.

In his room, hanging in the doors of his closet, Bakugo had the stunning dress he had picked that afternoon after he kicked out all of his friend out of his room. A red satin long dress with an opening in the right leg. He didn't know if you had matching shoes but he make sure of that when the assitant of the shop handed him the dress. Lacy high heels he knew you would love.

Everyone knew that Bakugo was a smart man, and being in the industry for years without wanting it made him learn things unconsciously like what size people were only by looking at them. He was sure that the dress and the shoes would fit you and, of course, make you way more gorgeous than you already were.

Your night was summed up in pacing all night. You walked through your room, you rearranged your desk three times, you even changed your bed sheets a week earlier trying to succumb the anxiety rising up from the pit of your stomach.

Well, what's done is done. You already said yes and there was no enough amount of excuse that would prevent you from going.

You've never attended a nice party before. You looked up Bakugo's parents on the internet and the sight of them smiling in a picture wearing haute couture made you shrink in your position in bed. You thought about biting your nails but then a reasonable thought appeared on your mind, there was no way that you would go to that party and meet those people with your nails all bitten.

Finally, the sun was up in the sky and you made it through the night sleeping the vast amount of four hours. You felt fresh like a rotten veggie rusting in the back of the fridge.

Just as he said, a few little knocks on your door startled you right after you opened your eyes.

"Why is Bakugo sending you this?" Denki raised his left brow while raising the dress covered in a gray bag.

No hello, no how are you's, straight to the damn point.

"Uhm, where's Jirou?" If you were going to explain yourself you'll rather doing it just once.

"She went to the bathroom, she's coming tho, what's going on?" He took a step inside of the room and left the dress on top of your dresser removing the wrinkles with his hands.

"Here I am! I took a piss almost standing with a feet inside the stall and the other outside the bathroom, what the hell is going on!?"

Curious Jirou was your absolute favorite when you weren't involved in the thing she wanted to know because you were almost sure that she was just a few seconds away of grabbing your bedside table's lamp to hold it above your eyes to interrogate you.

"Bakugo invited me to this thing of his parents because no one was able to go with him, not a big deal" you waved your hand at them like it was actually nothing when you were boiling on the inside.

"Not big deal??" She exclaimed. "I took a peak of that dress and girl, that didn't seem like not a big deal" she quoted you in the air and you walked to the dress to pry inside.

The way both of your hands rose to clap your mouth shut proved Jirou right.

A red satin dress whose fabric and lacy straps screamed money and luxury to you laid flat and still in your hand-me-down duvet.

"It also came with these" Denki appeared above your shoulder with a pair of strappy heels.

You shook your head several times in disapproval. No. When Bakugo said that he had a dress, you never expected for him to casually lend you a, you could guess, a few pairs of zero dress. And heels that would match its glamor and price.

"What are you doing?" Jirou asked Denki in a hum.

"Looking at the price of this thing" He scanned the dress with his phone and shook his head and then he scanned the heels. "The dress is nowhere to be found but the heels, oh my god, don't even touch that"

"Don't be ridiculous, I don't think is that exp-" Jirou's eyes widen, and you could swear that they were about to pop out of their sockets. "Don't touch them? More like, don't breathe near them!"

"Dial his number Denki. I need to talk to him now. " You rushed to your friend while he was taking his phone out of his jacket.

"Put him on speaker," Jirou commented side eyeing you.

After a few rings, the sound of static and him clearing his throat startled the three of you.

"If something happened to that dress I swear to god-" Bakugo gruff voice echoed in your room.

"It's not that! When you said a party, I thought you meant like a casual party, almost as a jeans and top party, not a champagne toast, chandeliers and limousines party" you freaked out.

"Oh, so you liked the dress," he said, and you could practically see the smirk plastered on his face.

"There's no way I'm going to use that. The shoes cost more than my whole tuition!"

"I don't see the problem. Besides, you're not that clumsy to tear them up in just one night. I assure you nothing is going to happen, I'm going to pick you up, help you walk, and stay by your side, taking care that no one put a damn finger on it, if that is your concern"

In his own room, he was trying to keep it cool while the mere possibility of you bailing it out made his leg tremble under his desk. This was his shot. He had accepted the weird feelings he had toward you, and now he needed to taste the waters to see if there was any chance for him.

"I'm picking you up at six. Don't be late, " he hung up.

He wouldn't give you the opportunity to leave him hanging.

Classes were slower than usual. Fortunately, you had most of them with Jirou, so if you thought that she would drop the incident of the morning, you thought wrong.

"I don't know what's on his mind, but the bright side is that you have the chance to wear a nice dress for once without having to sell your soul to the devil" she said while scribbling some notes. You raised your brow at her, and she gasped. "He's not the devil"

"Since when are you a Bakugo defender?" You asked, leaning on your head on your open hand.

"I'm not his defender is just he's just behaving like a normal human being, acting like a friend, and don't forget he ate that crap the other day, for me that's like the ultimate act of love" she exaggerated.

"I wouldn't go that far," you rolled your eyes at her. "I'm with you on that, except for the latter, but I still think that he has hidden intentions." Jirou titled her head in confusion. "He's used to getting everything he wants, and normally he does, and when I appeared and opened my mouth, everything went downhill for him"

"So you think that he's only using you? For revenge? I don't think he's that wicked. " Jirou bit the tip of his pen giving it a profound thought.

"I don't know"

And for once in your life, you didn't want to know.

The same afternoon, you were at your room with your makeup and hair done. Jirou helped you to look like a decent person, and she also helped you put on your dress without leaving any stains.

"I swear to god, this is gorgeous," she exclaimed.

You admired yourself in the mirror. The fabrics traced the shape of your body in a way that almost made you faint. Growing up in an orphanage, you never had the opportunity of dressing nice. This was the first time that you actually felt like a princess.

Three knocks on the door echoed in the room. You looked at the clock, and you still had a whole fifteen minutes before Bakugo's arrival. Maybe something happened, you wouldn't have the chance to know because you didn't have his number.

You hurried to pick up some jewelry, a pair of golden earrings with a matching necklace that lay on your desk.

"Sensei?" Jirou asked and gave a step back to let Aizawa enter the room. Aizawa looked for you, and when he caught the glimpse of you dressed to the ninens, he was utterly confused.

"What's going on?" He asked slowly.

"I'm going to a party," you said, clicking the earrings to your lobes. You had a few more piercings, so you decided to look for new ones to combine.

"With Bakugo," Jirou chimed in giggling at your death stare.

"What?" Aizawa turned from Jirou to you.

"He asked me to be his plus one to one of his parent's events, no biggie," you said, clasping the back of your necklace while the two of them were talking with glances. "It's not what you are thinking"

"What am I thinking?" He pretended not having understood.

"It's not meet the parents, I swear, I'll just go, eat some boujee shit and look pretty" you shrugged.

Aizawa nodded in acknowledgment and then smiled a bit.

"You do look pretty," he said like a proud dad. "You should send a picture to Eri"

"Why don't I take the picture of the two of you?" Jirou said, excited. "You didn't have any proms, right? This could be the replacement of family photos"

You wouldn't lie. The mere idea of it made you excited, too. You had your best friend and your father figure with you in a moment you never thought you would ever have.

"Fine, but I want you out before Bakugo arrives, I don't want the: bring her in one piece show"

"Oh, don't worry, I'm going to have a serious talk with that boy," he joked.

Or that's what you thought.

Bakugo was ready to pick you thirty minutes before the time he set, so now, he had thirty minutes to pace in his room with his tux on and a lot of thoughts running through his mind.

The palms of his hands were sweating, and he restricted himself to apply more perfume on his collar. He didn't want to provoke you a headache, but he didn't want to smell like caramel either.

He went straight to his car, and although your building was almost in front of his building, he waited in the car, blasting loud music to keep his nerves on the line.

When the clock marked six pm, he made sure to lock his car and, with big steps, made his way to your building, playing with the keys on his fingers he stepped into the elevator and clicked the third floor.

The door of your room opened at the second knock, and Denki's girlfriend was the one on the other side of the wood.

"Are you ready?" She smiled widely, and Bakugo felt the emotions running in his stomach.

"Don't make a fuzz over it"

You appeared in slow motion. Well, that's how he recalls it. He was absolutely right about the dress and the heels. He felt his mouth drying just at the sight of you in front of him. Your makeup was subtle but remarked the main factions of your face. Your eyes were stunning and sparkling, and your mouth highlighted with a subtle shadow of light brown lipstick and gloss on top.

"You -" he stuttered. He cursed himself on his mind for acting like a teenager. "You look beautiful"

You smiled at him, and your cheeks went red in an instant but this time it wasn't for shame, it was purely because of his compliment.

"Let's go," he offered his arm, and you happily clung to it. You needed the balance.

"Have fun!" Jirou screamed from the door when you two walked away from her.

The ride in the car was nice. The spring breeze made you shiver a few times, but he was quick enough to pull the windows up. You thanked him in your mind.

On the other hand, Bakugo was sweating like a pig. He knew he needed to look at the road, but he was so mesmerized by your beauty that he couldn't help staring at you, giving you subtle glances.

He didn't want the ride to be silent, but he didn't know what to say without giving away too much or making a shame of himself.

He was a nervous wreck.

The two of you arrived at the venue with the sun setting on your backs. You had your arm locked on Bakugo's to maintain stability in your heels. With the heels on, he was only half of a head taller than you, so know you could actually see his eyes without killing your neck in the process.

The thematic of the party was classic and luxurious. You weren't wrong about the chandeliers and the champagne because the first thing you saw above your head was an enormous chandelier hanging from the roof, which was very far from the ground and about the champagne, after your mouth almost fell from his junction at the sight of the warm light, a waiter dressed in black waved his tray with multiples flute cups urging you to take one.

Bakugo was kind enough to take two of them and nodded at the waiter, who continued to offer them to the other guests.

Man, you needed at least three of them to just adjust yourself to the atmosphere.

"D'you like it?" He asked, offering the beverage.

"I mean, yeah, it's amazing, and I can't even begin to think the work your parents had to put on this, but I feel like an ant in a shark tank"

He smirked at your comparison.

"You look good," he assured you.

Before you could say anything a tug in your shoulder made you both turn around.

"Who's this?"

The femenine image of Bakugo was in front of you, looking at you with awe and sparkling eyes.

"I thought I'll have enough time to sneak out before bumping into you, mom." he rolled his eyes, and his mom didn't waste time smacking his shoulder with her hand.

"Don't talk to me like that, Katsuki. I'm your goddamn mother, " she flicked his son's forehead and then, like nothing happened, returned to you. "Who are you, darling?"

"She's my friend," Bakugo said before you could open your mouth. He looked constipated like he was trying so hard that you didn't talk.

"Hi, Mrs Bakugo, I'm very pleased to meet you," you said after giving her your name.

"Katsuki, I thought you'll bring your friends, this is a nice surprise." she was genuinely excited. "Are you his girlfriend or his girl-friend?" she waved her arms, stating the comparison with a playful wink that made you blush.

"She's just my friend," Bakugo answered, annoyed. "Where's dad?"

"Oh, he's over there sweeping away the candy table, I swear that man loves too much those little macaroons," she smiled at the sight of her husband. "Anyway, enjoy the party, I hope to see you again, darling," she squeezed your shoulder in her way out.

"She's cool," you said once she was out of sight.

Bakugo snorted and shook his head.

"That's because she doesn't scream at you, c'mon, let me introduce you to my dad" he grabbed your hand this time pulling you through the crowd and you didn't know how to feel about the sudden interaction.

Bakugo's dad was visibly the opposite of his mom. He was quiet, very calm and nice. He asked you about college and about your quirk. The three of you talked about random topics for almost half an hour, and you could tell that Bakugo was more relaxed around his dad than with his mom.

The party began after a speech from both of Bakugo's parents talking about the fashion industry and his own company. The start of it, the challenges they went through in the way of what was today and everything. They thanked their employees, which you found very modest of them, in the best sense of the word.

Then everyone was in their world talking to each other and laughing at the memories they shared. You and Bakugo were leaning in the bar table, asking for something else than champagne. Your tongue wasn't used to refined alcohol.

"Is it always like this?" You asked watching everyone from afar.

"Yeah, the best part is that they only do this twice a year, I need to use the bathroom. Can you stay here and wait for the drinks?" You nodded and gave him a small smile that he gave back.

In his absence, you took the time to look at your phone and replied to Jirou's text since it was just one text you needed to reply to. You started scrolling through the apps and watching stories from your friends. Mina's story appeared just after you accepted on being her friend.

The image of her and Bakugo's friend appeared in an instant. They were hanging together and playing cards in a bar while drinking beer. You felt the champagne in your stomach twirl and made you nauseous.

Why did they tell Bakugo that they were busy?

You were thinking about telling him or not when he appeared and looked above your shoulder.

"What are you doing?" He asked, raising his brow at you.

He didn't give you the time to hide the evidence, so he was very stunned when he watched his friend's story.

"I'm so sorry they lied to you," you said sadly.

His reaction took you by surprise. He wasn't sad or angry. Instead, he was stoic, he standed there thinking and looking at the abyss shuffling the options in his mind.

"It's okay, I didn't invite them," he shrugged and sat on the bar stool, taking the glass of something in his hand.

The look on your face was epic.

"What? But you told me-" you were dumbfounded.

"I know what I told you," he interrupted. "I just didn't want you to say no and I really wanted you to come"

The last time someone was so eager to spend time with you was when you were in charge of the twins, and the couple who adopted them wanted to be by their side all the time.

"Why?" You said confused by his actions.

"I wanted to know you better, like friends do." he wasn't even looking at you, focused completely on sipping from his glass. Yours was in front of you when you realized that it was a Cosmopolitan that you haven't ordered. He remembered.

"Well, I don't know what to say"

"It's okay if you're mad" he mumbled under his breath. He didn't want you to be mad.

"Mad? I'm flattered. I mean, yesterday I was the last option, and now I'm the only option you had in mind since the beginning, " you said toying with your fingers.

You didn't like any sort of lies, but you could understand why he did that. You weren't very open with anyone but your friends so it was very difficult to reach you sometimes. At least he was trying.

"So, do you like to dance, or am I just going to use this dress like a mannequin?" You said batting your long lashes at him.

"Your wishes are my commands, ma'am," he offered his hand, and you took it without hesitating.

"Oh my god, you're so damn cocky"

Your cheeky tone made butterflies erupt in Bakugo's body. That shithead of Kaminari was right. You were absolutely fun to have around.

After a few dances and a lot of drinking, at least for your part, because Bakugo had to drive you back, you were a giant mess. You felt the heat in your body and your feet staring to swell because of the dances. Bakugo was a great dancer, he knew how to sway and how twirl you without leaving you on the ground. You made fun of him multiple times and he took advantage of your state giving you the false sensation that after a spin he would actually drop you.

"I'm a mess right now," you stated the obvious. The drink was way over your head, and it made your legs feel lightweight.

"Yeah, you've stomped in my feet three times," he grinned grabbing you firmly by your waist.

"I'm sorry," you pouted. "I needed to make sure you weren't feeling so confident about your dancing skills. What a bummer! Do you really have to be good at everything? It's exhausting, Bakugo"

The way he laughed at you made you feel whole. He was genuinely laughing, heading back and relaxed shoulder. The whole starting pack of finding you funny.

"Katsuki," he returned to his normal state.

"What?" you asked. Your mind was working slowler than usual.

"You can call me Katsuki after you crushed my feet and almost teared off my arm when you thought you were falling, I think we are okay with first name basis"

Your emotions were in a state of haze. You could blame the alcohol in your veins, but you could also blame the stunning man in front of you, glancing your figure and never letting go of your skin.

He looked as hypnotized as you, but he was more in his right mind to make a subtle move.

Leaning and entering in your space, he took a loose lock of your hair with his fingers and carefully placed it behind your ear, taking the moment to hang in there for a while.

You gulped at the feeling of having him so close.

"I think we should dance one last time before we go," he whispered in your ear.

The slow music played through the speakers. Katsuki grabbed your hand, who was tiny against his big one. He placed the other hand in your waist while yours stayed in his shoulder. The intense look you were sharing gave you enough time to look at his eyes and memorize them. In the warm and fainty light, they looked brighter than other occasions, or maybe it was just because you now were taking your time to really look at them.

Katsuki felt the same way, he sweep your entire face with his eyes while guiding your dance. Your big eyes looked at him like he was the only thing in the world, the tip of your nose little red just as well as your cheeks and your lips, slightly apart and puffy, he wanted to kiss you so bad.

Would you let him? Kiss you?

He wanted to ask, but he was afraid. Bakugo Katsuki was afraid of asking a girl to please let him kiss her?

At that point, he didn't mind begging you to let him taste the sweet of your lips. He was dealing with his own devils inside of his brain. He promised you that his only intention was to be your friend, and now, after a splendid day, his own instincts were about fuck everything up or make it better.

Without even noticing, he started to lean towards you, and you were leaning as well to meet him in the middle. When he realized you were halfway to stamp your lips on his. Your eyes fluttered in between staying open and closed and he sucked his air because it was about to happen.

Ride or die, he thought.

You were inches away from each other when abruptly you shrinked in your position and your eyes snapped open in pain.

Your ankle sabotaged you.

After a little fuzz about it, where the two of you decided to forget the previous situation, you were situated in Katsuki's front seat with the help of his dad and a waiter. Your ankle was getting bigger and bigger and Katsuki couldn't stop looking at it.

"We have to go to emergencies," he stated.

You waved him off, rolling your eyes and internally screaming because of the pain. Damn high heels, you would never use them again.

"It's okay, I'll go to recovery girl tomorrow morning, and she'll do something about it"

That was the main plan. Katsuki felt stupid because with the preoccupation of you in any sort of pain, he forgot that you had all the possibilities with Aizawa being your guardian.

Once you reached your building, he made sure of leaving you safely and tucked in your bed. He even wanted to carry you bridal style to your room, but you adamantly opposed the possibility of being the main gossip of the week.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you tomorrow?" He asked for what it seemed the tenth time. Jirou, who was at his back, had a finger lifted for every time he asked that.

"It's okay, Jirou can take me, right?" You said calmly.

"Sure," she faked innocence, hiding his hands behind his back.

"Here, my number." he took your phone from his jacket and put his number on your contacts. "Text me tomorrow, or you'll have me here all day"

God forbid.

"Fine," you smirked. "I had a good time, thank you"

He tucked his hands on his pant's pockets and nodded in agreement.

When the door closed, Jirou watched you with her eyes wide open in amusement.

"I know, don't say anything," you curled up to touch your ankle and see it closely. "This look nasty"

"Girl," she stated, not believing a thing she had just seen.

...

You didn't sleep a wink from the pain. Jirou stayed all night with you icing your entire feet to deflate it, but it didn't work.

The sun was getting up in the sky, and the both of you were tired and sitting in your bed with your backs against the wall.

"Thank god the only class I have today is skippable," she said, yawning.

"Mine is not skippable but I'll make it skippable" you said changing the ice pack to your other hand. "I'll talk to Aizawa"

"Did you asked why he was here yesterday?"

You've forgotten about that.

"No" you shook your head. "I didn't even give it a thought"

She hummed in response and the two of you fell in a comfort silence where you took the chance to close your eyes a little.

"Don't you think you are playing two teams?" Jirou asked while taking the ice pack from your hand and icing your ankle herself.

Her voice startled you less than his ask.

"No," you hissed when she hit a sensitive spot. "I mean, Bakugo invited me to that thing, I said yes, we danced...very close and intimate I'm not going to lie about it and then I sprinted my ankle and now I'm here, what's that of two teams"

"You are practically panicking because of your ankle, I know you have a date with Todoroki, but maybe this is a sign." She said reading your mind.

Todoroki had crossed your mind just once and it was when you started to think in your classes and how you'll go to them in one foot.

"I can't leave him hanging." You said. "Besides, Bakugo invited me as his friend. He asked me to be his friend not a week ago, there no reason to not go to my date tomorrow"

"Fair point," she nodded. "Aren't you betraying yourself with this? Like in that blubbering mess you were last night, you explicitly told me that you felt your stomach doing a flip every time he pressed his hand on your waist"

You blamed the pain and the alcohol.

"If I don't remember, that means it didn't happen." You grinned at her, and she bumped her shoulder at you playfully

Oh, but you did remember, and it brought you mixed feelings that you didn't know how to deal with. With the sun rays of the morning stepping in your room through your curtains you couldn't help but think how fucked you were.

(Not proofread yet)

End note: I know I made you wait, but the waiting had its purpose. My winter break is over :( and since I've been updating on Wednesdays, I needed to re-schedule this to Fridays. For the wait, this chapter is longer and involves more scenarios and the "date" that I know you didn't see it coming. Bakugo surpassed Todoroki without knowing it! Devil works hard but Bakugo wanting reader works harder.

A penny for your thoughts about this (not really but express yourself)

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taglist continues on the comments.

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[theemporium]

🥺👉👈

Best friend Eddie has had a *thing* for reader since middle school. But is worried to go for it (reader is sweet, smart, and funny. Probably would be popular if she didn't spend so much time with the "freaks".) So he'll take any little bit of affection he can get from her.

(I think we've all seen from the show and the interviews that JQ's love language is touch.)

Maybe Eddie starts hugging her and holding her a lot until one day at lunch he puts his hand on her knee and she moves it onto her thigh under her skirt (?).

You can take it from there 😂 that's the extent of my genius.

thank you for requesting!🖤

part two

.

Eddie Munson had always been an affectionate and touchy guy. 

You had been friends with him for many years and it was an undeniable fact the boy loved to show his affection through physical touch. Whether it was an arm thrown over the shoulders of the younger boys in the club as they make their way to the classroom to start the latest campaign, or whether it was knocking shoulders and excitedly hugging his bandmates when they make a breakthrough on a song they had been working on. 

Eddie was an affectionate guy and that treatment was extended to you too. 

It also just happened that he had a massive fucking crush on you and felt like his heart was going to burst through his chest every time he touched you.

It had been a normal Thursday. Classes had been long and torturous, but Eddie was practically bouncing in his seat to head towards the cafeteria for lunch. When he walked into the room, he saw you sitting in your usual seat—the one right next to him at the head of the table.

It was difficult to wipe the grin off his face as he made his way towards the table, slumping down into his seat and not even wasting a moment before he was gripping the back of your chair, dragging you close enough until your thighs were pressed together. He did this every day but something about you liked the way your heart skipped when he pulled you closer. 

It baffled Eddie why you always sat with them. You weren’t in Hellfire, not really. You never played but you enjoyed listening to them rant and ramble about it. You had other friends you could have sat with, ones that wouldn’t have made you seem as though you were a ‘freak’ along with the rest of them. But despite Eddie’s insistence that he wouldn’t be offended if you sat somewhere else, you still chose the seat right next to him—to make your own point. 

You were very happy and content where you were, settled under Eddie’s arm with your head resting against his shoulder as he continued to discuss the latest campaign with the other boys. You smiled softly, watching how excited and animated they got and the way Eddie’s face glistened in pride at how much they loved his campaign. 

But then your thoughts started to wander and you felt something warm just above your knee, your eyes darting down to see Eddie subconsciously place his hand on your thigh and gently stroke the skin exposed by your skirt. 

You pressed your lips together, not saying anything. You didn’t want him to move his hand, maybe because you weren’t sure Eddie saw you as anything but a best friend. And with this—with this, you could pretend it was something more. 

Then his hand moved up a little, the movement almost a little hesitant like he was waiting for you to push it back down. 

But you didn’t. 

You waited for him to shift higher but it stayed firmly where it was, a couple of inches below the hem of your skirt. Your eyes darted up, seeing the boys still screaming and yelling at each other across the table and lost in their own conversation. You stole a quick glance at Eddie, finding his eyes firmly stuck on the boys but the hint of a smirk on his lips gave you another idea. 

Your fingers slowly wrapped around his wrist, giving it a soft squeeze before you began to guide his hand higher up your thigh. It inched closer and closer until—

Eddie cleared his throat when you pushed his hand under your skirt, your thighs clenching together to trap his hand there. He pressed his lips together, forcing himself to keep his face neutral as though blood wasn’t roaring in his ears and going straight down to his cock. 

Your legs parted a little, just enough for him to move his fingers once again. You kept your gaze anywhere but your lap, the heat rushing to your cheeks warning enough that you would instantly blow your cover if you saw the sight of his hand between your legs. 

Eddie’s fingers slowly crawled further up your leg, his fingertips teasing your clothed cunt. You let out a small gasp, quickly covering it up with a cough as you felt his fingers press more firmly against your panties.

You nuzzled yourself against his side, the action not uncommon and, therefore, ignored by the rest of the group. Your face was practically pressed against the fabric of his jacket, muffling the small sounds that left your lips as his fingers grazed up and down your cunt—the touch too light but enough to make you squirm.

Nobody even questioned it when Eddie ducked his head down, his lips pressed against your ear and his warm breath fanned across your skin. 

“You’re so wet, baby,” he muttered, his voice low enough that only you could hear him. “And I’ve barely even touched you.” 

“Eddie,” you breathed out. 

“I didn’t know you liked this kinda stuff, sweetheart,” he murmured, his fingers pushing against your clothed clit as you fought the urge to squirm. “Letting me do this to you when anybody could see.” 

“Shit,” you hissed, the fabric of your panties soaked. 

“Who knew my best friend was such a slut,” he cooed softly. 

“Eds,” you whined slightly, your cheeks flushing when you felt his thumb press slow circles on your clit. 

“Or maybe you’re just a slut f’me,” he teased, grinning a little when you nodded your head. “A shame, baby.” 

Before you could even process his words or the way your stomach twisted in delight at his words, he was pulling his hand away and resting his hands on the table like nothing happened. 

You gaped at him, your panties now soaked and your body desperate to feel his touch again but the boy just shot you a look. 

“Later,” he said, eyes darkening a little when he noticed the way your thighs clenched together. “Keep ‘em on all day and you’ll get a reward later, in my van.” 

You bit your bottom lip. 

His lips grew into a smirk. “Gonna make sure that pretty little skirt of yours is fucking ruined, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

And then he returned to the conversation about his campaign like nothing was wrong.

.

[billybutcherrtrash]

Dress

I suppose it’s my destiny to write about inanimate objects. First a chair, now a dress.

CW: sexy times. MDNI. (18+)

As usual, I didn’t proofread it. 🤷🏻‍♀️

You and Spencer attend a wedding and your dress is quite a distraction.

You’d been Reid’s ride or die since day one. You’d both been young when you joined the BAU and instantly became the tamer version of Morgan and Garcia. You’d bonded over your mutual nerdy interests. The two of you watched Doctor Who and Star Wars. Your brilliance nearly matched his. He secretly loved when you challenged or questioned him during cases. He’d often call you when he needed to be talked off a ledge during a panic attack, even if it was 2:37 in the morning. It wasn’t unheard of for you two to room together when working a case. No one had ever batted an eyelash or gave it a second thought. Neither of you had really ever considered the other anything but a friend. Until of course the day you noticed him staring at you longer than he should have. The day you noticed the way he licked his lips when he was listening to you speak. The day you noticed how perfect his hands were. The day you realized you were day dreaming about his hands in places they definitely shouldn’t be. That’s when you knew you were doomed. You’d crossed a line in your head you thought you’d never cross. Now every time you were near him and he touched you in the most innocent of ways it was like a jolt to your system. The way he brushed his hand across your lower back when he passed you or when his hand grazed yours as he sat beside you on the jet. Thank God no one had noticed the way you would sneak glances at him when you knew no one was looking. You were doomed now. The risk of rejection or worse, he might actually feel the same. Only one way to find out…

Penelope had agreed to go dress shopping with you for a certain someone’s upcoming wedding. For whatever reason none of the dresses you owned seemed to meet the criteria you’d made up in your head. It was a wedding, of course they were nice enough but…not for what you had in mind.

“This one!” Penelope announced, holding up a floor length black dress.

“P, do you really think I’d look good in this?”

“Are you kidding? You’ll look stunning! Put it on!” Penelope said, ushering you into the dressing room.

You reluctantly slipped into it, unsure of how you felt about it. There was a slit running up the side that you hadn’t noticed before. It was a rather low cut for your usual taste but you couldn’t deny your breasts look great in it. You felt a bit exposed as you stepped out of the dressing room. Penelope’s jaw dropped.

“Yes! Yes! It’s perfect!” She clapped, “Oh, he’s not going to be able to keep his eye off you!”

“He?” You asked, confused.

“Babe, I have eyes. You and Reid have been playing googley eyes for months. And this, my dear, is a “fuck me” dress if I have ever seen one.”

“Wait what?” You froze.

“I’m not a profiler, but it doesn’t take a genius to see you two probably can’t share a hotel room platonically anymore.” She laughed. “And this dress will guarantee that.”

You couldn’t tell if you were mortified or relieved she’d noticed.

“You said he was making googly eyes…?”

“That man clings to every word you say. And if you don’t end up in his bed after wearing this, I don’t know what it will take.” Penelope said.

“Fine…this is the dress.” You agreed.

……

Reid was standing with Morgan when you arrived. Morgan nudged his arm, his head nodding in your direction. Reid turned and you could see his jaw drop. The look on his face didn’t get past Morgan.

“You gonna pick up your jaw off the floor, pretty boy?” He smirked.

Reid faltered to a moment before gaining his composure. He tried his best not to make it obvious that he was having a certain reaction to the dress.

“You look…” Morgan paused, nodding at you.

“Stunning.” Reid finished for him.

You blushed and smiled, “Thank you, boys. You both look handsome as ever.”

Reid couldn’t help but notice the heels you were wearing, making you several inches taller. He honestly couldn’t recall you ever wearing heels. Before he could comment, Penelope arrived to usher everyone to their seats.

“Alright, my darlings! It’s almost time! Let’s go!” She announced, grabbing your hand and leading you inside the chapel.

You found the rest of the team and settled into your seats. You could feel Reid’s eyes on you through out the ceremony. You’d casually glance at him, meeting his gaze. Penelope nudged you to bring your focus back to the nuptials in front of you. It was hard for Reid to concentrate when all he could think of was how you looked in that dress. Finally the ceremony ended and you made your way to the reception.

“He was staring the whole time.” Penelope smirked.

“Yeah, I’m aware.” You nodded, taking a glass of champagne.

“What’s your plan?”

“Plan? I don’t have a plan.” You shook your head.

“I doubt you’ll need one, but you need to talk to him. Drop subtle hints.”

“Was the dress not enough?”

“Oh, it definitely is. But can’t hurt to fuel the fire.”

“Ladies.” Morgan said, “I hate to interrupt, but I think it’s time for this lovey lady and I to dance.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Penelope smiled, taking his arm and leaving you alone.

You took a sip of your champagne as Reid approached. The butterflies had turned into pterodactyls now.

“Hi, Spence.” You said a little too shyly.

It didn’t go unnoticed by him. He could read you like a book…and just a quickly. After all these years he knew every tell you had. He could see you were avoiding direct eye contact, looking toward him but not directly at him.

“You look nice.” Reid smiled, “That dress fits you well.”

You let out a jagged breath, “Thank you, P picked it out.”

“She has good taste.” He licked his lips, his eyes dragging over you.

“She does. She also made me wear these heels”. You laughed softly.

“Well, they’re also very nice.” Reid said glancing down at them.

“They’re pretty but they are killing me”. You admitted.

You felt his hand on lower your back, causing you to look up at him. Your breathing increased as your eyes met his.

“You okay?” Reid asked.

“Yeah, why?” You nodded.

“You’ve been quiet tonight.”

“Oh, have I?”

“A little. It’s not like you.”

“It’s a wedding. Not much to talk about aside from how beautiful the bride is and how in love the happily couple are.”

“Or how good the cake is.” He laughed.

“Or how drunk the bridesmaids are getting over in the corner.” You gestured toward the scene to your left.

Spencer nodded, “They’re going to have a great night.”

You took another sip of your champagne, finally feeling your nerves settle. That didn’t change the fact you weren’t sure if you could actually go through with whatever it was you thought was going to happen.

After a few more drinks, guests started dissipating.

“I’ll walk you home.” Reid said.

“Walk? Not in these heels, Spence.” You shook your head.

“Okay, have a seat and I will take them off.”

You couldn’t help but smile, doing what he asked. Reid knelt before you and unbuckled the strap. His eyes wandered a little higher, following the slit of your dress up your leg. His hand ran over your calf gently as the other slipped your shoes from your feet. You gasped softly. God, he was going to make you crazy. Once both offending shoes were removed, you stood up.

“Omg, freedom.” You laughed.

You said your goodbyes and congratulations before making your exit. Once on the sidewalk, Spencer turned his back to you and gestured for you to jump.

“What?” You asked.

“Piggyback ride. C’mon.” He said.

“Seriously?”

“Yes! Jump, I can’t have you walking on these streets.”

“Reid, you can’t be serious.”

“I’m so serious. C’mon.”

Reluctantly, you jumped onto his back, arms around his shoulders, legs on his hips. You laughed softly at how ridiculous this way.

“It’s like 5 blocks, Spence.” You said.

“It’s fine. I promise.” He replied, beginning the trek.

“You’re being entirely too nice. I don’t deserve you.”

“Of course you do.”

The two of you made more small talk until you reached your building. He set you down on the stairs.

“Well…thank you for this…it’s been a nice night.” You said softly.

“I’ll walk you up.”

“You don’t have to. Five blocks is more than enough.”

“Don’t be silly.”

With that you put your key in the door to the building and made your way to your apartment.

“Do you want to come in?” You asked after opening the door.

“Yeah.” He nodded nonchalantly.

Your heart was in your throat now. It was definitely the right moment. But how were you going to pull this off? You turned to face him, prepared to just say it but he spoke first.

“Can I say something?” He asked.

“Of course.”

“If I’m being honest…that dress is going to be the death of me, Y/N.” He bit his lip.

“Oh…”

“I haven’t been able to focus on anything but you all night.” He stepped closer to you. “This dress is just…making it hard to believe I have an IQ of 187.”

“My turn to be honest…I only bought this dress so you could take it off.”

And just like that, Spencer’s lips were on yours, his hands were in your hair and there was no going back. Your hands undid his tie and you tossed it aside. He pulled his suit jacket off and it fell to the floor. Next you went to work on his shirt, unbuttoning and adding it to the growing pile of discarded clothing. It took every ounce of sanity he had to pull away and take your hand leading you to your room. A room he’d slept in several times, but never had he considered doing this. He sat on the edge of the bed gazing up at you. For a moment you weren’t sure what to do. But there was only one thing to do. You reached for the single clasp that held your dress on and undid it. Spencer watched as it fell to the floor. He licked his lips and took in the sight of you. For all the years he known you, this was never something he thought he’d see. You thought you’d be embarrassed but the way he was looking at you only made you feel wanted and desired. Spencer took your hand and pulled you into his lap. You straddled his lap and were now inches away from him. He kissed you gently, more calmly than he had before.

“Spence, at some point… you’re gonna have to…take off your pants too.” You said between kisses.

“Someone’s impatient.” He replied.

“No, just seems…unfair.”

His lips moved to your neck, “You tortured me with that dress all night, that was unfair.”

You ran your hand through his hair, tugging gently. “Please?”

“Now you’re begging?” He smirked.

“Absolutely not. Just asking politely.”

He looked at you and sighed, “Fine. Lay down.”

You moved off his lap to the middle of your bed, leaning back on your pillows. Reid stood up and casually undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants and let them fall to the carpet. You bit your lip as he climbed back in the bed and moved on top of you.

“You look like you might like what you see.” He smirked.

“Very much.” You nodded.

“Actually, one more thing.” He said getting back up.

“Spence!” You whined.

“We need a condom.”

“I don’t have any.” You replied.

“Don’t worry. One of us is responsible.” Spencer teased.

He grabbed his wallet from his pants and pulled out two condoms, setting them on the dresser next to the bed.

“Two?” You raised eyebrow. “Someone’s optimistic.”

He climbed back on the bed and hovered above you. “No, just prepared.”

You watched as his hand slid up your thighs, slowly slipping his fingers under your underwear and pulling them down. You didn’t say a word, realization setting in that this was happening. You barely noticed he’d taken off his and was reaching for the condoms. You swallowed as the butterflies returning to your stomach. You felt anxious as he slid back over you.

“You got quiet…you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah…just nervous.”

“We don’t have to do this.”

“No, Spence, I want to. I really, really do.” You said. “More than anything.”

“Anything?” He laughed softly. “Wow, I’m honored you’re choosing me over anything else.”

He leaned in to kiss you, settling between your legs. It didn’t take long for things to become more heated, more desperate.

“Tell me when.” Reid murmured.

“Now.” was all you could say, needing him desperately.

“Tell me if you feel uncomfortable. Promise me.” He said.

“I promise”. You nodded.

His lips crash into yours and you felt him push into you. You moaned into the kiss. God, it felt amazing the way he stretched your walls to accommodate him. Every second felt like forever as you waited for him to move again. You knew he was trying to be gentle but you needed him desperately.

“Spence, please, you’re not gonna break me.” You begged softly.

Whatever restraint he’d been holding back snapped and he thrust into you causing you to yelp. He was so deep and you only wanted it more. His lips moved to your neck, kissing and sucking gently as you took every thrust.

“Just like that…fuck, Spence!” You panted.

He reached up and cubbed your breast, squeezing it gently.

“You feel fucking amazing.” He groaned against your neck.

“Don’t stop, please, please…”

“I’m not, I’ll get you there”. Spencer promised. “I got you.”

He kissed you again, more feverishly. Your hand tangled in his hair, tugging gently. Spencer hissed, his tongue running over your bottom lip. He reached down and pulled your leg up higher on his hip allowing him to sink deeper into you. Your headboard hit the wall above you with the force of his movements, causing you both to look up.

“It’s fine.” You said, biting your lip.

You could feel yourself getting close. That’s familiar ache was rising inside you.

“Close…”

Spencer’s eyes widened for moment at your words. He nodded and slid his hand for down your side and between you. Your heart rate skyrocketed as he ran his fingers over your clit. He felt you fluttering around him as he worked you to your climax. Your legs were shaking when you finally reached it. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, only spurring him on to pick up his thrusts. Your nails raked down his back, riding out your high. It was only moments later his hips faltered and he came hard, burying his face against your neck as he collapsed over you. You lay quiet, trying to catch your breath, your fingers stroking his shoulder. Finally he lifted his head and kissed you gently.

“You okay?” You asked.

“I think so.“ Spencer answered, slipping out of you.

You quietly mourned the loss of him as he climbed out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. You heard the shower turn on, and him poke his head out.

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up.” He winked at you.

You didn’t need to be told twice, climbing out of bed and hurrying to join him.

[fireflyinks]

I have an idea for a request :) 💗 sorry if this is long but what if hamzah did one of the solo out of character podcasts and then he invited y/n but then the sexual/romantic tension between them so they stop filming to do other stuff (can be the deed if you want to take a smut route or just making out or being cuddly for a fluffy route!) or maybe 🫣 they forget about the camera and accidentally capture stuff on camera

special guest

hamzah x reader smut

contains : smut, oral sex (both giving and receiving), no p in v, use of y/n, cursing, sort of exhibition (they record themselves but don’t post it), munch!hamzah

a/n : I LOVE THIS SM, munch!hamzah is my new favorite thing to write, i’m obsessed. anon you’re literally a genius. thank you so much for the support on all of my hamzah posts, i love you alllll

18+ MINORS DNI

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

Hamzah and I had been friends for a couple of years. Both of us had YouTube channels and lived near one another so we would hang often. There was an obvious connection between us, but Hamzah nor I were bold enough to point it out. The two of us simply enjoyed dancing around the face that we obviously had mutual feelings for one another.

I sat on my couch, editing my latest video when I felt my phone buzz beside me. I picked it up, reading “hamzah” spread across my screen and a .5 picture I’d taken of him. I swiped right to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/n. Are you busy?”

I shook my head as if he could see me, “No, what’s up?”

“Well, Martin is busy today and can’t record for our podcast, so I was wondering if you’d want to come record with me. Like a ‘special guest’ type thing?”

I thought for a moment. I hadn’t seen him in a while just because the two of us had busy, and viewers loved it when we made content together. We actually got shipped a lot, but Hamzah always ignored it, and I never brought it up. Part of me was glad that even the fans noticed that there was something between us.

“Yeah, why not? That sounds fun, when do you want me to come over?”

Hamzah took a beat before answering. “You could come over now, and afterwards we could order dinner or something, yeah? You’ll have to come to Martin’s apartment because that’s where we film, it’s not too far from mine. I’ll send you the address.”

“I’m on my way, see ya in a second.”

“Thanks, y/n, drive safe.” He hung up.

My heart fluttered at his last comment.

I went to my room and quickly put on something sort of presentable. The star of my outfit was none other then a small denim miniskirt.

The drive to Martin’s house was only about ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity. I was way more excited about spending time was Hamzah than I should’ve been.

Once I arrived at the apartment, I knocked on the door. I was greeted immediately by Hamzah. I couldn’t help but noticed as he looked me up and down once he’d opened the door, a small grin on his lips.

“Hey!” He said, pulling me into a hug. It surprised me a bit but Hamzah was always very affectionate with me, even as a friend. He’d play with strands of my hair on late nights after filming when we’d sit and talk about pretty much anything, and would always grab my hand when leading me places.

“Hi” I smiled into his shoulder right before he let go.

“I have everything get up in here.” Like clockwork, he took my hand and led me through Martin’s apartment. I looked around, seeing the scenes that had made appearances in many of Hamzah and Martin’s videos.

“So…” He sat down on the couch, motioning for me to sit to his right, “it’s going to real casual, just like it is with Martin. I might ask you a couple questions about your channel, if you want me to.”

I shrugged, “I’m fine with anything, just happy I could help you out.”

Hamzah smiled, handing me Martin’s microphone and looking at the camera. “Well, are you ready?”

I nodded, and he got up and began recording.

“You gotta just sit here for a second awkwardly while the intro music plays.”

A few seconds went by as we tried not to laugh at the silence. I couldn’t help but notice how his eyes flicked down to my thighs, exposed by my mini skirt, every few seconds.

“Hey guys, today I’m here with someone who is not Martin.”

Hamzah motioned to me. I lifted my hand and gave the camera small wave.

“Hi there, I’m y/n.”

“Martin decided to skip recording today to go roller skating with Mandy.”

I giggled, “Well, I think they sort of trapped you into recording without them so you wouldn’t third wheel them for once.”

Hamzah rolled his eyes. We went on and on, talking about how much better I am at rolling skating than Hamzah is, how ice skating isn’t real and it’s all just an illusion because neither of us can even stand up on the ice, and after about 40 minutes, somehow the topic of none other than Ice Spice.

“Munch is an absolute banger, but I’ve never met a dude that actually enjoyed eating it.”

Hamzah furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” I went on, “like most of them do it but they don’t like it, which makes it awkward. Like I’m yet to meet a dude that actually gets pleasure out of it too.”

There was a slight pause in the conversation, and I was scared I had made him uncomfortable.

“You’re talking to one right now.”

My cheeks flushed as his comment sunk it. I couldn’t respond, no words would come out of my mouth.

“Sorry,” he looked at me worried, “I totally just made it awkward.”

“Nah,” I shook my head, desperately. My heart thumped as I looked back at him. Maybe I wasn’t delusional about our obvious connection. Why in the world would he make a comment like that if he didn’t mean it in a flirty manner? “it’s okay, really.”

I couldn’t get the thought out of my head. Hamzah’s mouth on my heat, suckling on it like it was his last meal, rubbing my clit with his thumb. I bit my lip. The way he was looking at me showed that he was possibly imagining it too.

He shifted on the couch, looking at me desperately.

“I could show you, if you want.”

I nodded dumbly.

“Please.”

Hamzah leaned in, slowly pressing his lips onto mine. He slowly worked his mouth on mine, growing more and more passionate.

His mouth moved down my body, trailing down my neck. He paused, slipping my shirt and skirt off my body and taking a moment to stare at my breasts.

“God, you’re so beautiful, you know that?” Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. “I was so distracted, I couldn’t stop staring at you.”

He rubbed my thighs, looking down at them. It’s like he was mesmerized. “These thighs are so pretty. I couldn’t stop imagining them spread for me.”

Hamzah’s boldness surprised me, but I couldn’t say that I didn’t enjoy his praises. No matter how lewd they were.

“Can I take these off?” He curled his index finger into the band of my panties.

“Yes” I breathed out, shyly.

Hamzah chuckled to himself, “You’re so cute.”

He pulled my panties off of me, spreading my legs and looking down at my aching heat. Leaning down, he slowly kissed my core. I whimpered at the feeling.

“Tell me you want it.”

I bit my lip, looking down at him with pleading eyes. “I want it. I want it so fucking bad, Hamzah.”

Without further discussion, he dove down into my aching heat, swirling his tounge through the folds. I took his hat of his head with shaky hands and ran my fingers through his curls.

He looked up at me for a moment.

“Do you feel good?” He said quickly, wasting no time to get back to his meal.

“Yes! Yes! So good.” I moaned, my legs involuntarily closing in on his head. His hands held them back in place, spread wide for him to have the fullest access.

“You taste so damn good.” He groaned out. It was entertaining, watching how much he genuinely enjoyed this. He moved his mouth like it was his last meal. I’d never felt this much pleasure just from being eaten out, and it was so sweet.

My brain felt all fuzzy from the way his tounge worked through the folds of my heat perfectly, finding all of the sensitive places and causing my legs to shake under his hold.

“Fuck- I’m gonna cum.” I threw my head back, pure pleasure filling my head as I let out breathy moans.

“Go ahead, cum for me. Cum in my mouth, baby.”

I let myself release on his tounge, my body writhing against his working mouth.

After a few seconds, he pulled away, looking up at me with hopeful eyes, almost like he’d expected me to have had a bad experience.

I didn’t. I had the complete opposite; I couldn’t stop thinking about Hamzah’s tounge.

“Fucking wow.” Is all I could manage to get out.

“Was it good?” He asked.

“More than good. That was… can I please return the favor?”

Hamzah was quick to shake his head, “You really don’t have to. I know most girls don’t like to, and I don’t expect anything in return.”

I genuinely couldn’t let myself live knowing that I didn’t repay Hamzah back after he had me seeing stars.

“No, please, I really want to.”

I couldn’t lie, I’d imagined Hamzah’s cock plenty of times. I’d wondered how big it was, what it looked like, how it would feel in my mouth, what he was like in bed, pretty much everything. But now that I might finally get it, I felt more giddy than ever.

Hamzah slowly nodded, “Alright, go ahead.”

I reached down to his jeans, unbuttoning them as he helped me pull them off his legs, followed by his boxers. His member slapped his stomach, and it surprised me just how hard he was solely from eating out.

It was… big to say the least.

I slowly bottomed him out in my mouth, gagging slightly. He groaned, keeping his eyes on me. I bobbed my head, feeling him hit the back of my throat over and over again.

“Fuck, y/n, just like that.”

I continued these motions, occasionally pulling him out of my mouth and leaving small kitten licks on the tip. He was fighting the urge to throw his head back into the sofa, continuing to keep his eyes glued to me. He breathed out shaky praises to me.

“You’re so good at this, fuck. I- I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum in my mouth… please.” I begged, sucking his faster.

He moaned before filling my mouth with his loud. I swallowed it all before taking him out of my mouth, looking up at him shyly.

“Fuck… that was amazing.”

I giggled as we looked at each other for a few moments. It was crazy, the very things I’d been fantasizing about coming true, all because of a podcast episode.

Fuck. A podcast episode.

My eyes darted over to the recording camera, my cheeks flushing. Hamzah was still looking at me, almost in a hypnotic state.

“Hamzah…” I tried to grab his attention, he hummed in response. “The camera…”

His eyes widened as he looked over, coming to the same realization that I had.

“Fuck- sorry.” He got up, pulling his boxers on and walking over to the camera. “I’m deleting all the footage. You can check afterwards if you want. Recording us really wasn’t my intention.”

He was panicking, his fingers fumbling with the cameras buttons.

“Hamzah… relax. It’s okay. You- nevermind.”

Hamzah looks over to me, his eyebrows raised in amusement. “I what?”

“You can keep the recording if you want.” It felt so lewd to say, but I meant it. It was sort of hot, knowing he had that footage of us and could watch it anytime.

He smirked, looking down at the camera and nodding. “Alright… I will.”

I blushed, “Now can we get that food that you promised me?”

Hamzah chuckled, grabbing his phone.

It was strange, a couple of seconds ago we were performing such lewd acts for a camera we’d forgot was recording, and now we were arguing about whether we should get chinese or mexican take out.

[worriedvision]

He ignores you after an argument - Dr Ratio

Gender neutral reader, angst with an ending that can be viewed as happy. Dr Ratio shows his immaturity, and he only realises how close he is to losing you when Argenti makes an appearance.

--

"What do you mean, 'can you try to be more considerate'? If you cannot comprehend a genius' words, you are not worthy of my time!" Your boyfriend huffs, turning around to place his mask on.

He always did that when you had arguments, but the words that were paired with his actions were what worried you. You had really stepped in it, trying to tell him that you weren't finished with your sentence. You were getting frustrated that he wouldn't stop interrupting you and, sometimes, filling in the statements incorrectly. You ignored your frustration in the past, but it boiled into this argument you just had with him. You were doubtful that he would think about your feelings even after he calmed down, so you mentally prepared yourself for the silent treatment.

Days became weeks, and weeks became months. He still wasn't talking to you, and you were heartbroken. You dive yourself into your work, the astral express themselves commissioning you because of Dr Ratio's words of praise of your intellect. Swallowing the temptation to explain he was likely exaggerating to help you with getting work, you go along with it. Your boyfriend, despite no longer talking to you after the argument, tags along. You both get separate rooms - something you are thankful for, considering how awkward you felt around your partner. You didn't even know if he was considering himself as your boyfriend or if he mentally checked out since the argument.

Now, Argenti decided to make an appearance. Turns out, he had an issue with his ship, so he had to request some resources from the astral express. You had tried to speak to your boyfriend, who was still playing chess by himself as he ignored your pleads for forgiveness - apologising for failing to communicate effectively. Struggling to keep yourself together, you walk to the other side of the room before taking a seat. Pulling out your folders, you get to work on other projects. Hearing someone walking towards you, you assume they'll just be taking a seat somewhere close, only for them to sit right next to you.

"A beauty as precious as one you possess shall not be under-appreciated by an unrequited love." He begins, Dr Ratio halfway through playing a knight, freezing up at this man hitting on you. "With brains to accompany your radiant and decadent beauty, I shall request that you consider flourishing under someone to cherish you."

Dr Ratio gets up from his seat, his mask literally starting to crack as he begins to storm over to you. He realised, through Argenti's speech, that he ought to treat you better since he truly loves you. He had to show you that he has been thinking of you, about how to apologise - he simply kept his mask on because he thought he didn't deserve to show his face until he thought about how to apologise to you for interrupting you. By the time he knows what to say, his mask breaks entirely, falling to the floor to Pom-Pom's distain.

In the middle of Argenti clearly scouting for you to join him on his ship, Dr Ratio walks behind the couch and wraps his arms around you, side glaring at Argenti.

"Apologies, but this is a prize I won." Dr Ratio growls, Argenti chuckling as he gives Dr Ratio a light warning that you were likely going to get snatched up by another man if he screwed up again.

Your boyfriend comes to take Argenti's place on the couch, pulling you in for a hug, he begins his apology.

--

"You didn't talk to me for months, you know?" You pout, your boyfriend scolding himself inwardly for being immature.

"You are the one who's more empathetic than myself. I need to put more effort into understanding your feelings, I'm lucky that you're still alright with me hugging you despite the argument." Dr Ratio sighs, squeezing you as he looks over your shoulder to read your work.

"...I almost forgot how amazing and intelligent my partner is." Dr Ratio smirks, you turning your head to look at him. "If I have to wait a year for compensation of my neglect to remain yours, I would gladly do so."

[chosoisamalewife]

Hiiiii could you write suguru x male reader. Reader has been really bratty lately: screaming, throwing stuff and just flat out disrespecting Geto. He takes it because you know you'll be having some exams soon so he let's you take out his stress on him, until one day he sees you and Gojo flirting a little too much and he gets super pissed. He drags you back to his apartment and edges you to his hearts content

Top!Geto x bottom!male reader

A/N / SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG.

A/N / IF THERE IS ANY MISSPELLS I APOLOGIZE

WARNINGS : MINORS STAY AWAY-filthy smut- Dacryphilia-spit-mentions of threesome-oral-edging-anal-spit as lube-slight smacking-no protection-creampie- implied safe word-aftercare- I guess thats all. Geto is mean but ends soft and sweet…..let me know if I need to add anything

“Darling I don’t understand why are you stressing so much. You are a genius” You heard your boyfriend’s voice breaking the silence. Suguru was currently on your bed sitting with his back against the head board. You don't say anything just completely focusing on your studies. "Baby are you even listening to-"

"Yes", you responded quickly

"Okay then what did I say?" You didn't have to look at him know he crossed his arm

"I don't know"

"Why am I even here then?" He didn't realize he thought put until you finally turn to look at him with furrowed brows.

"Why are you here" You said before turning back. He gotten up walking towards you placing his chin on your shoulder

"Baby I didn't mean it like that. I want to spend time with you but right now you are more focused on that. You need to take break." He pressed soft kisses onto your cheek.

"Go hang out with Satoru." He stopped kissing your cheek at your words.

"You told me that yesterday, the day before yesterday and then the day before that. Baby I gave you a pass then because of your studies but now it just seem like you are pushing me away. It has been a week of you acting like this, acting like an ass. " You whipped face towards him at the last statement.

"Go" Y'all just stared at each other. "I said go so get the hell out Sugu"

"Fine, I'll be fucking glad to. Hey do me a favor and tell me boyfriend to text me when he gets his body back" He said leaving and slamming the door.

You didn't hear from your boyfriend the rest of the night, no calls no texts. He didn't hear from you either so the next day he was looking for you to apologize for the way he acted and for not being understanding of your stress. That though that need to apologize quickly went away when he saw you walking with Satoru laughing, smiling and talking. Satoru was showing you something on his phone what ever it was had yall smiling. Suguru couldn't take it he stormed over to yall.

"Hey ba-" He grabbed your bicep harshly pulling you with him. You talked to him all the way to his place but not one word from him. You knew what a part of this was about and you felt terrible for what you said the day earlier.

The moment you got to his place large hands push you against the wall of his room. His lips grazes yours. “ You’re such a filthy boy you know that” He whispered against them. You lean closer trying to fully press your lips to his but he instantly pulled his head back.

“Please suguru” You pleaded with him. He knew your favorite thing to do was to kiss him. Some nights you don’t even feel the need for sex, the feeling of y’all’s lips pressed together puts you at peace. His knowledge of it makes chuckle deeply. One of his hand left your waist to palm at your crotch. You looked at him with pleading eyes as your breathing picks up.

“This past week you have been nothing but an ass to me. The only time you spoke to me was to yell or tell me to leave you alone”

“Baby I'm-“

“Shut up, You ignored but oh when it comes to my best friend you all happy and laughing with him” He palmed at your hard cock even rougher. The feeling of his actions made you whimper. You close your eyes, leaned your head back while letting out groans. He removed his hand from your crotch before you can protest he pressed his clothed cock against yours. He grinded slowly causing you to clutch at his shirt “Do you want to fuck him?” You shook you head which wasn’t enough for suguru. He grabbed your jaw making you look at him “I asked do you want to fuck him. I want to hear yes or no” He thrusted harder against you

“No” You moaned out. You can feel your orgasm approaching due the harsh grinding of your boyfriend clothed cock against yours and his doming demeanor. How pathetic you really must

“Are you sure, I mean if you did I wouldn’t be angry with you. I could invite him over one night to join us.” You let out a pathetically loud moan. “Aw you already close to cumming? You going to make a mess out of your clothes.” He tapped your face lightly with the same hand that gripped your face. You mouth went adjacent and he took that moment to spit inside "You're so fucking pathetic" He said removing his body from you. "Strip and get on the bed" You removed your clothes with shakey hands. Before walking to the bed. You felt a smack on your ass as you walked by him making a gasp escape you mouth. You climbed onto the bed sitting in the middle of it.

“I’m sorry, I didn't make my self clear” He chuckled as he grabbed you by your ankles pulling you to the edge of the bed. He gotten on his knees in front of you “Hm now that’s more like it” He purred as he gotten on his knees in front of you. He unzipped and unbuttoned your jeans. You raised your hips so he can pull your jeans off leaving you in your boxers. You sit up so you can watch him.

“You’re such a needy slut. Barely done anything to you and you were already so close to cumming your pants.” He chuckled as kitten licked the wet spot on your boxers, your mouth parted at the sensation. He stared at you with darken eyes like a wild cat looking at its prey.

“Sugu please” You begged. You are so close but the licks that he is giving on your boxers isn’t enough. You wanted more, you needed more

“Nope! Remember what I said, filthy boys don’t get what they want. So don’t even think about cumming.” He yanked your boxers off freeing your hard cock. He wrapped his large hand around your shaft causing a lewd sound to leave your mouth. “Such a pretty cock for someone so filthy” he licked your slit that was leaking pre cum. You bucked your hips up, you knew you were going to last long. You are already so close to the edge again. “Do not even think of cumming because if you do it will not be pretty” He licked directly on your slit tasting you before taking you fully in his mouth. Your hands shot into his black hair threading them through.

"Fuck" you groaned, your hands gripped onto some strands causing your boyfriend to groan against your cock. The vibrations sending a new sensation throughout the nerves. The warmth of his mouth and the gliding of his tongue against the underside of your cock had your mind fuzzy. You feeling and the need for release were right there. You couldn't help but to thrust into his mouth a few times desperate for the high. You could feel it it was right there when he took his mouth off you. He slap your thigh making you jump a little. Your upper fell back groaning and hands covering your eyes in frustration. He raised up grabbing and pulling only your upper body up. He brings his face close to your staring you directly in the eyes like the day before. However your look wasn't the same, your face reaks desperation. "Please" you whispered softly. He grips your chin making your mouth open slightly. He leaned in making you think he was going to pressed his lips against yours. His lips never came though just him spitting on your mouth.

“I want you on the bed on your hands and knees ” You shakily gotten into the position and you waited there as you heard clothing being removed. You had no idea if you were shaking in anticipation or for the fact of being on the edge twice alright just to never fall.

You felt the bed dip in places then you felt your boyfriend's body up against yours. His hard thick cock directly against your ass. You could feel him grinding against it slowly. His chest was completely against your back.He placed rough kisses onto your neck. His kisses went up to your ear whincing as he bit and pulled on it. You could hear how breathless he was getting. He has been holding his own since this started neglecting his needs and wants of your body.

"Suck on them" He brought two fingers to your mouth shoving them deeply. You gagged at the sensation. Your tongue danced around them licking all over and in-between them. "There you go get them nice and wet". He occasionally shoved them back deeper to where he first put them. You could feel drool pooling at the corner of your mouth. "Aw drooling like a bitch in heat huh?" He chuckled deeply the feeling of the vibrations of it driving you more mad

Once he was satisfied he pulled them out your mouth and moving from your body. You felt spit dropping from his mouth onto your rim. Then his wet fingers entered you. Tears automatically fell from your eyes not because the stretch was the painful. It was the pain of being so close and haven't been able to release. His fingers pumping out of you didn't help. You move one hand from holding you up to your mouth hiding you moans and whimpers. You were already almost there again. Your release were so close however it still seems so far

Suguru's free hand reach up to you hair pulling it "Don't you even fucking think about it. Remove your hand". You dropped your hand back to its original place. "You crying and I haven't even put my dick inside you." He drop his hand from your hair to give your ass a smack. His moment of his fingers became harsher

"Please I can't" You turned your head as best as you could to look at him. You hope that maybe your tears and the look on your face could help you receive sympathy.

"Don't give me those puppy dog eyes. We both know you can take it. All you have to say is that magic word baby" He was right, all you have to say was the safe word and it will all stop. You don't want it to stop though. You just want to cum. "Plus you brought this upon yourself". He removed his fingers from your. He brought his palm to your face "Spit", he demanded. You spit a good bit into his hand. He took his cock in his hand pumping and spreading your spit all over it. He aligned him himself before slipping completely inside of you. He let out shakily breaths giving you time to adjust more to him. Your arms that were holding yourself up gave up now. You face and chest were against the mattress. His large hands glided against the arch of your back up to the muscles of your back and back down to your waist. . It felt good and soothing. His touch being more gentle than before.

He grips you waist and begins to move in and out of you. His pace starts out nice and calm before it picks up. You bit onto the sheet in frustration and pleasure His trusts became fast and rough as his moans increased. "Fuck" he groaned another slaps on your ass making you whimper against the sheet. "Gonna fill this ass of your with my cum. You'll love that won't you. Such a cum slut." His thrist became messy and sloppy as his breathing picked up. "My cumslut" He groaned loudly as his body shook. He fucked himself through his orgasm. The feeling of his cum shooting into you making your eyes start to roll back.

He pulled out before you could finally get there. The denial again made you scream into the mattress in frustration. He flipped you over gripping your waist and entering your hole again. You felt him cum that was oozing getting pushed back into you. He couldn't help but to watch for a bit. His cock coming out covered in his cum before going back in making the most lewd sounds.

You were completely fucked out at this point your moans were just soft whines and groans. You eyes were puffy and red from crying. His eyes were now completely focused on you. From your fucked out face, to your torso he just watched you as he fucked you. You were close again tears started down your face again. One of his hands caressed your cheek wiping the tears he couldn't help but to smile

"Please, I'm sorry" You whispered softly, you have no idea if you heard you or not due to the noise of the room.

"I know , just a little longer okay. I want you to cum with me this time" He leaned over you placing his face in your neck. You drap your arms that feel like jelly over his shoulders. Gripping onto his skin as best as of possible. The feeling of pleasure hurts more and more with each thrust of his hips. Your mind short circuiting with each of his groans on your ear, with each time his cock hits your prostate. He lift his face to look at you again. His hips starting to stagger. You body begins to shake.

"Sugu" You breath were heaving heavy tears pouring down you face. Your grip of his back tightened. His thrust became heavy, desperate and messy.

"There you baby cum with me. You can cum." He pressed his lips against your for the first time as your body begin to shake. Your eyes rolled back as pleasure hits your like a freight train. He groans against your mouth as his body stutters as he cum in you again.

You have no idea how long you were gone. You came to your senses feeling kisses being pressed all on your face, lips, neck and chest. Hand rubbing your sides gently. When he noticed you he smiled "There you are" He pressed another kiss on your lips. Tiredness began to settle as you closed your eyes again. "No no no, you cant sleep yet. I got to clean" You groaned in annoyance. "Baby I don't think you want to sleep in cum". You could feel it oozing out of your body more onto the bed. He shook his head getting up walking to his bathroom turning on the bath tub. He cleaned himself up quickly before returning to you

He lifted your body up before you can protest gently putting you in the warm water. "I'll be back baby, I'm going to change the sheet." You just nodded

He came back to the bathroom once he was done wearing his boxers. He sat by the bathtub watching you lay there with your eyes close. He touched you softly "You okay baby?" Concern was heared in his voice. You open your eyes and smiled.

"I'm fine, just sleepy now. I love you sugu and I'm sorry. I won't study tomorrow." You reach for his hand holding it.

"I love you to baby, and it's okay. How about you just study for an hour tomorrow. Since the exam is the day after. " You nodded your head. "Just a question what were you are satoru laughing about"

Your laughter filled the bathroom. "How you were whining to him like a love sick puppy needing attention."

"He showed you the messages? I'm going to fucking kill him"

I don't know how to end shit 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️

[daydreaming-nerd]

Lipstick Kisses (Azriel x Female! reader)

AN: while I LOVED my last Azriel fic I felt kinda bad about how it ended to so even though this was supposed to be a Cassian fic I thought I would switch it up just to say I’m sorry lol 

Summary: You and Azriel weren’t together. But you also weren’t not together. Sure he warmed your bed nightly, but he had made it clear that he was hesitant to date his best friend, Rhysand’s, little sister. You were content to play the game until one night a certain princess got so far under your skin you couldn’t see straight. 

Warnings: jealousy, unprotected sex, cockwarming if you squint? 

Word Count: 2496

(all pics are from pinterest) 

Rita’s had never been so busy before. Packed from wall to wall with members of every court here to celebrate the week leading up to Starfall. A tradition my brother had long since put on. Everyone seemed to be merry and happy, even Azriel who stood at the bar with the Princess of Adriata. 

Azriel and I had been hot and heavy for a couple of months. My whole life the shadowsinger and I had danced around one another, flirting here and there but never acting. It wasn’t until one night when I ran into the spymaster in the hallway of the House of Wind, when we couldn’t stay away from one another. It was a mess of hands, teeth, tongues and kisses as he took me against the wall. From that moment on Azriel sought to warm my bed nightly, but nothing more and I never thought to ask him why for fear of losing him. We weren’t together, weren’t not together. And I had no right to stare daggers at the Princess of Adriata, yet here I stood, at the edge of the room doing just that. 

“Looking a little tense there y/n,” Cassain drawled, nudging my shoulder. 

“I am not tense,” I gritted out. 

“Then why does it look like you’re about to shatter that glass with your bare hand?” he retorts. I look to where my polished fingers are gripping my cocktail in rage. 

“I’m just scared someone is going to knock my drink out of my hand, it’s super busy in here,” I say, loosening my grip on the glass. 

Cassian let out a chuckle, “You sure it has nothing to do with the way Az is looking at the Princess of Adriata?” he smirked. While Az and I hadn’t told anyone about our nightly escapades, poor Cassain was practically forced to have the knowledge as his room was next to mine. 

I meet Cassian’s eyes in a sideways glare causing him to laugh again. 

“Of course he wants The Princess of Adriata,” I sneer at her name. 

“You’re a Princess too y/n,” Cassian reminds me.

“Yeah well apparently not the right type,” I huff, turning around so I don’t have to watch them smile and flirt anymore. 

“You should get him back,” Cassian muses. 

“If you’re trying to take me into your bed again it won’t work.” I laugh while sipping my drink, remembering a different drunken night, or a few of them, that Cassian and I had shared at Rita’s. 

“You wound me Princess, you can’t say you didn’t enjoy yourself all those years ago,” he smirked, bumping my shoulder again. 

“Illyrians really are sensitive babies. Now what kind of revenge did you have in mind?” I smirk into my glass. 

“You got some red lipstick in that bag?” his eyes gleamed. 

I rummage around through the mess of trinkets in my purse till I find the red rouge sitting in the bottom and pull it out. “Looks like I do,” I say, holding it up for him to see. 

“Perfect, now put it on,” he says standing in front of me so I can use his siphon as a mirror as I always had for years anytime I needed to fix my makeup or hair. He used to hate it, but now I think it makes him feel special. 

“I fail to see where this is going,” I contest putting the lipstick back in my bag. 

Cassian didn’t say anything, he just pointed to his cheek asking for me to kiss it. I rolled my eyes and obliged. When I pulled back a bright red lipstick stain adorned his cheek and I realized what he was doing now. 

“Cassian, you're a genius,” I laugh. 

“Well I am a specialist in war tactics after all. Now go around and say hello to every Lord in here and greet them with one of your sweet kisses. The second Az looks around he’s going to lose his mind.” he explains. 

“Thanks Cass,” I laugh before turning away but I feel his hand on my arm. 

“I think I might deserve a little more thanks than that Princess,” he says playfully.

“Fine you big baby,” I roll my eyes before placing a quick kiss on his lips seeing the lipstick residue there. 

“You’re welcome princess,” he smirks triumphantly before turning away.

I turn to the crowd of people in front of me scanning the hundreds of happy faces packed into the tavern. Like a beacon of hope I find Thesan conversing with two other Lords, the perfect target. 

“Thesan!” I cheer, “My brother and I are honored to have you here in our court,” I greet him sweetly, pressing a discreet kiss to his cheek.    

“Princess it’s always a pleasure to be in your presence,” Thesan smiles warmly. “May I present Lord Baylor and Lord Suffolk.” 

Both Lords reach their hands out to mine and I push them away, “Please I’ve never been fond of handshakes,” I smile gently, embracing each of them and pressing kisses to their cheeks as well. 

“We are honored to be here Princess y/n, the stories of your beauty still don’t do you justice,” Lord Baylor smiled.  

“You all flatter me too much, it’s going to go straight to my head,” I tease playfully before excusing myself to mingle with the other lords.       

I continue my charade until my drink empties and I’m forced to retreat to the bar for another. I be sure to pass right by where Azriel and The Princess of Adriata are talking before leaning against the bartop and requesting my regular. I try to hide the smirk when I feel a certain scarred hand graze my elbow. 

“Is there a reason why those red lips have been on the cheek of every man here tonight Princess?” Azriel says lowly into my ear. 

“I’m just being a good host Az,” I say, not keeping my eye off the bartender making my drink. 

“More than good the way I see it,” he grits and his hands trace the backs of my arms. The bartender brings my drink over and I leave a large tip in his jar. I finally turn to meet Azriel’s intense gaze. 

“Don’t be so jealous Azriel, after all we aren’t even together,” I tilt my head before sauntering off. 

When I get back to the House of Wind that night I’m utterly exhausted. I open the door to my bedroom and kick my shoes off sending them flying across the room. My dress is the next to go, falling in a pile on the floor. I wash up, and slip on my nightgown before falling into my bed with a sigh, too lazy to turn off the small fae light next to me. I try to sleep but it’s not the same without a certain Illyrian next to me. 

A half hour later I hear the door open slowly, I pretend to still be asleep not wanting to even speak to Azriel. When I had left Rita’s he was still talking with The Princess of Adriata, and this time she had a hand on his bicep.

I heard daggers and leathers falling to the ground as the bed sank behind me. 

“Scooch over Princess, there's no room for me,” he whispered into my ear as his arms circled around me to move me over. 

“Get off me Az, I don’t remember inviting you to my bed tonight,” I grumble, not moving an inch. 

He doesn’t move, “I’ve been sleeping here for three months y/n what do you mean?” 

“I mean, I don’t want The Princess of Adriata’s sloppy seconds sleeping in my bed, now go to your own room,” I huff, slamming my head down on my pillow for emphasis. 

Azriel scoffs, “This is about Cressida?” he asks in disbelief. 

“Oh good for you, you’re on a first name basis with the oh so perfect princess,” I say donning the same mocking tone I used to Cassian. 

“You do know that you’re also a Princess,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. 

“So I’ve heard,” I roll my eyes, moving my shoulder away from him. “Now get out.” 

“Y/n, I didn’t sleep with her,” Azriel says, pressing another kiss to my shoulder.

“Yeah right,” I scoff. 

“She did try, but I told her I was seeing someone,” he continued kissing my arm. 

“Oh really?” I sneer. 

“Yes my love,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You.”  

“I thought you didn’t want to be with me, I thought you just wanted to fuck me,” I grumble trying not to enjoy his lips on my body. 

“I never said that,” he states and I can feel his agitation. 

“Well you didn’t not say it either, what am I supposed to think when I only see you at night?” I argue. 

“Fine, I’ll admit it, I was scared.” he grumbled, moving to lean back on the pillows. 

I sit up to face him and find him pressing the heels of his hands into his forehead like he has the largest migraine to ever be known to man. 

“Scared of what?” I scoff in disbelief. He was Azriel, my spymaster and a shadowsinger. I had seen his fierceness on a battlefield countless times, seen him slaughter enemies of my court. What could possibly scare him?

“I was scared that one day you’d wake up and realize what I truly am, a lowborn nobody. You’re a princess for gods sakes y/n. The most beautiful woman in Prythian. You should be with a prince like Varian, not me. And even though I knew that I couldn’t stay away from you. You smell so good and your skin is so soft and the way you look at me sometimes? It would’ve taken all seven High Lords to keep me from your bed, especially when you invite me to it so willingly. I was scared that if we made our relationship something more than just pleasure that you would realize that, and that’s a blow I couldn’t handle.” Azriel confessed, finally ripping his hands off his forehead to stare at the ceiling.  

“Azriel I-” 

“It’s okay you don’t have to say anything,” he sighed, getting out of bed. 

“Az,” I plead, but he keeps walking.

 “Azriel stop!” I scream not the request of a lover, but the order of a princess. I see his wings twitch as he stops moving, still not turning to meet my eye. 

“Azriel I love you,” I confess. 

He whips around to meet my eyes, using his years of reading people to try and decipher whether or not I’m telling the truth. He finds no trace of a lie and before I know it he’s standing over the bed and bringing his lips to mine. His knees sink to the bed and I use his off balance to push him down into the pillows so I can straddle his lap. 

“Do you mean it?” he asks as I lean back to look at him, his eyes blown out and on cloud nine. 

“I’ve loved you for years Az, just ask my brother. When I thought you didn’t want to do anything but bed me my heart was broken, but I was willing to take whatever I could get.” I explained. 

“You have all of me y/n,  you always will,” he smiles, leaning up to kiss me. “But I’m still mighty jealous of all those lipstick prints, especially the ones I saw on Cassian.” he smirks against my skin. 

“I think I can make it up to you,” I smile before reaching over to my bedside table to retrieve the lipstick from my discarded clutch. I keep our eyes locked as I put the cherry red color all over my lips and I swear I feel his cock twitch under me. 

I lean down to leave a kiss on his cheek, then his forehead, his jaw, his chin and then I give the other side of his face the same treatment. I move my lips down either side of his neck earning a low groan from him. I smile and continue my assault all over his bare chest and shoulders. 

“Fuck y/n,” he moans and I can tell he’s trying not to flip me over and pound me into the mattress. 

I leave lipstick marks all over his abs and when I reach his boxers I pull the waistband down just enough to leave a kiss right above his aching cock. 

“Fuck this I need to be inside you,” he grunts and I’m quickly being hauled up by my arms and tossed on my back. Within moments he slams his cock inside me. 

“Oh fuck Azriel!” I scream, raking my nails down his back. 

The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping as Azriel thrusts inside me at a brutal pace. Both seeking his own pleasure and to claim. 

“Your turn Princess,” he smirks before sucking the skin of my neck into his mouth. My hands fly to his hair pulling him closer to me as his teeth sink into my neck.

“Azriel,” I breathe into his ear and he spurs his hips even faster. I feel him leave a light lick soothing the skin he bit into. 

“Mine,” he growls before leaning back to admire his work. He lifts my legs and puts them over his shoulders to hit me even deeper making my eyes roll to the back of my head. 

“Azriel!” I scream practically in subspace. 

“That’s right Princess, let everyone know who owns this little pussy,” he grins with male pride. 

“Yours Az all yours,” I breathe, unable to find my words.

“Good girl,” he says before reaching down to rub circles into my clit. The sudden sensation is enough to have me arching my back and cumming on his cock, a string of curses and his name falling off my lips.

Azriel continues thrusting into me seaking his own pleasure before spilling into me with a moan that practically shakes the doors. His head burrows into my neck and I run my hands through his hair pressing kisses to his face. I look up at him to see the lipstick marks all over him and I can’t help but laugh. 

He rolls us to the side taking me with him so his cock is still inside me. 

“Do you think Rhys is gonna kill me when he finds out?” Azriel asks jokingly but I can tell he’s genuinely wondering. 

“Well he was pissed at Cassian but he got over it so I’d say we’re good,” I sigh tracing the lipstick marks left on his chest. 

“Wait, you slept with Cassian?” he asks, stunned. 

“Yeah like 105 years ago, you didn’t know?” I laugh. 

“No I didn’t,” he says, throwing his arms around me and standing up making sure his cock doesn’t leave its spot nestled inside me.

“What are you doing?” I giggle playing with his hair as I feel my back hit  the far wall of my room. 

“Fucking you against Cassian’s bedroom wall,” he smirks kissing me deeply. “Gotta let him know we’re official now.” 

[blushweddinggowns]

It was kinda like an open secret, the fact that they were together. And if Steve was being honest with himself, even that was a stretch.

And it was one hundred percent their fault. Well...mostly it was Eddie's fault. The second they were with whoever he deemed "safe" Eddie would be all over him. Whether it was pet names, casually wrapping an arm around his waist, dragging him to sit on his lap, a kiss to his forehead, Eddie was far from shy when it came to handing out affection.

And if Steve did absolutely nothing to stop him when it happened well...that was Eddie's fault too. What else was Steve supposed to do when the man he loved was so openly sweet and affectionate? Say no? Put a stop to the behavior that made him feel like he was the most important person in Eddie's world? Give up the chaste hugs and kisses that made him feel like he was walking on air?

Yeah, no. It wasn't Steve's fault that Eddie made him feel so good, so the blame could stay laid at his feet.

Yep, totally Eddie's fault, Steve had nothing to do with it.

But there were only so many times you could call your new "best friend" baby before people started asking questions. Robin knew, Wayne knew, Nancy knew, and Steve was pretty sure all of Eddie’s age-appropriate friends were well aware.

And the kids would figure it out when they figured it out. It's not that they didn't trust them to accept their relationship, it was more that they would be too accepting. And way too involved. And Steve wanted to bask in the honeymoon period before all of his little shits started giving unprompted advice on his love life, and Eddie felt the same way.

So they lied, but only a little. Or more that Steve lied. Whenever it was a Steve and Eddie date night exclusive and the kids were vying for attention or rides, he'd tell them was hanging out with Robin or working late. But Eddie would just smile and shake his head to any asks, always with a painfully sincere, "Can't tonight, I got a date with my sweetheart."

His sweetheart who, none of the kids could meet until, in his words, he officially locked it down, the silly little speech never failing in making Steve blush and smile like an idiot. It was always enough to make the kids back off, and for the moment, their little plan seemed to be working.

But Steve wasn't sure how long it would stay that way, not when Eddie was very suddenly elected as the go-to for advice on the kids' love lives.

Which ow. Steve had experience with relationships, maybe not good experiences until very recently, but he had them! But the kids bypassed him every time in favor of the "one" adult in their lives who actually was seeing someone. And Steve didn't have the heart to break it to them that he was the only one their new love genius had ever been with.

Lucas had started it, faux casual at a Hellfire meetup, with Steve lazily reading magazines in the corner while he waited for his nerd boyfriend to be done so their night could actually begin.

"Hey Eddie, you've been seeing your girlfriend for a while right?"

Eddie nodded, "We're closing in at six months, why?"

Lucas rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, embarrassed, "Well...what would you do if say, you know they love you, and you love them, but they never let you help them with anything? Like...they always act like they're a burden when they're really just the best?"

Steve perked up at the question. silently watching as Eddie considered it.

He nodded along, thoughtful, “I was with someone like that once, always thinking about everyone else but never themselves. I guess you kinda just have to love it out of them y'know? Like give them the space they ask for sure, but let them know that you're always there for them. Not because you have to but because you want to.” 

Eddie took a chance and glanced at Steve while he spoke, giving him the quickest wink known to mankind. Steve hid behind his magazine, ears red with a stupid, lovestruck smile as Lucas thanked him.

Then it was Dustin. He sprung it on them while Steve was driving him over to the Wheeler's place, Eddie flipping through radio stations while Dustin was prattling to them in the backseat, "So I was trying to explain it to her, and she totally flipped out and hung up! She said that I think I'm smarter than her, which is totally untrue! Suzie is the smartest person I know!"

Steve snorted, "I told you you could be condescending-"

Dustin glared at him, waving him away, "I'm asking Eddie thank you very much! "I just thought she knew that I know she's smarter than me. So what should I do?"

Eddie shrugged, "I was with someone like that once, super, super smart but they could never acknowledge it in the way I thought they should. For them though, it was because people always talked down to them and never made the effort to see how they were smart. There are a lot of different kinds of intelligence out there right? So just let her know that there are some things you're better at but you know that for most things she's the gold star child."

Eddie glanced back at Dustin, rolling his eyes when he realized the kid was actually taking notes, but it gave him a chance to stealthily grab Steve's hand and squeeze it with a wide grin, "It isn't fair, but rarely does the smartest person in a room, know that it's them."

And if Steve couldn't help but kiss the daylights out of him while they were still in the Wheeler's driveway after that little speech, he stood that it was still Eddie's fault for being so sweet.

The kids kept coming to Eddie for advice, mostly because it usually worked. Some of it Steve was there for and some of it he wasn't, but it never stopped embarrassing the living hell out of him to hear himself be talked about so positively and sweetly, especially if it came out of the mouths of one of the kid's, unknowingly repeating stories and advice centered around Steve.

It was Will who finally cracked it, because who else? They were all at the Harrington place, taking full advantage of the absentee parents and pool during a hot summer day. Wil found the two of them in the kitchen, in the middle of a stupid debate over the best action movie of the year, sharing a popsicle back and forth while they play-fought.

He looked nervous as he walked up to them, looking anywhere but at their faces, "Hey Eddie, do you mind if I ask you something?"

Eddie nodded, snatching the last of the popsicle from Steve's hand, ignoring his whining, "Sure dude, what's up?"

"Have you ever, um, liked someone who you thought didn't like you back? But then they started...acting different?"

Eddie cocked his head at him, "Elaborate."

"Like...just treating you differently. More touchy-feely and attentive maybe? Do you think...that means anything? Has that ever happened to you?"

Steve glanced out the kitchen window, eyes on Mike as he sat at the edge of the pool, legs dangling over the side while his head was on a swivel, no doubt looking for Will.

It didn't take a genius to guess who he was talking about.

Eddie shrugged, "Not exactly? But I have gone after someone majorly out of my league before. And that worked out. I'd say just be straight forward and confident. Ask if they're interested, or if you can't do that ask them how'd they feel if you got with someone else. That can sometimes get the ball rolling if they're being too tight-lipped about their feelings."

Will nodded along, "So is that how you got Steve?"

Steve froze while Eddie laughed, not even catching on to the slip, "I got Steve by crying to his loose-lipped best friend about how in love with him I was. Not the best example."

And of course, that was the moment Dustin decided to walk in the room.

Steve brought a hand to his mouth, laughing behind it as Dustin froze, staring wide-eyed at Eddie, "You're with Steve?!"

Eddie whipped around to face him, but Dustin was already staring at Steve, "So the someone like that, has been you this whole time?!"

Steve was still laughing behind his hand as Dustin skittered out, no doubt to announce to the whole backyard just where their great love advice had been coming from.

Will followed him, winking at them over his shoulder as he went. Eddie was still standing there, confused on how one of the munchkins just bamboozled him into telling the longest kept secret he ever had.

Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder, just as voices started to raise from the background, coupled with a few yells around someone owing Will money, "Guess the secret's out huh?"

Eddie turned to face him with a sigh, smacking a kiss to his forehead, "You realize this means you're going to have to help with the love advice now right?"

Steve groaned, "I thought my existence was the help."

"Nope, it's your turn to give the love advice about me from now on."

Steve laughed, leaning in to kiss him chastely on the mouth. They grinned at each other, enjoying their last moments of peace before the whole gaggle of kids made they're way into the room, armed with questions and accusations galore.

But that was okay, Steve was more than ready for it to be his turn.