#i was caught off-guard by the use of my name in the first part. 'It seems to be addressed to Volta.' me: 'WHAT? Oh yeah | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

incognit0slut · 2 months ago

Text

On camera

PART 4 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Roommate!Spencer x Camgirl!Reader Spencer requests to take on a more involved role in one of your live streams.

content: (18+) 4k, exhibitionism/voyeur, reader wears lingerie, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, overstimulation (surprisingly it’s him for once), and a hint of cockwarming at the end a/n: this is the second part to a special show although you don't necessarily have to read it to understand what’s happening. this took a while because… there was a little pressure? i didn’t expect people to wait on this i hope it lives up to the expectations, let me know what you think my cuties<3

You nudged your foot against his. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine."

"Are you sure? You've been quiet ever since you sat down."

He felt the words knot up in his throat. The quiet wasn’t hesitation, it was disbelief. The kind that lingered in the gap between what he imagined and what was happening. The lack of conviction that defied logic, even when he was the one who initiated to exist beyond just a pair of hands at the edges of the frame.

"Spence?”

He glanced at you. Deep pools of brown drowning in lust swept over the piece of lingerie you decided to put on tonight. Even without much fashion sense, Spencer could appreciate the soft frills of purple lace clinging to your figure. The garter belt wrapped snugly around your waist, leading down to thin straps that framed your smooth thighs, and every logical thought he tried to root out slipped away the longer he looked at you.

Wait. Purple?

Purple.

Although Spencer was sure it probably had a fancier, specific name that bordered on… lilac? Lavender? Or something else elusive he couldn’t quite pin down. To him it was just purple. He might not have the vocabulary to describe the exact shade, but he knew the way it looked on you was nothing short of captivating.

“You’re wearing purple.”

The frown creased between your brows as you tried to make sense of his sudden observation.

“I am.” Your lips formed a slight pout. “And you still haven’t answered my question.“

And he still couldn’t bring himself to answer.

“I thought you were supposed to be Princess Pink?”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. It was true. Pink was your color. The soft, playful blush had always been part of your alter ego. You shifted on your feet, glancing down at the purple lace hugging your hips before meeting his eyes again. A small, hesitant smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and for a moment, you looked almost… shy.

“Well, yeah,” you admitted, your voice so soft it dipped into a tone he wasn’t used to hearing from you. Your fingers traced the edge of the fabric absently, and you glanced away again as if finding the floor more interesting.

“I thought maybe… it might help, you know? Calm your nerves or something.” The nervous laugh creeping out of you sounded strained. “I know you like purple… so I figured…”

The corner of his lips curled upwards. His smile reminded you of the times he caught you off guard with a look that was equally amused and deeply affectionate as if he couldn’t believe his luck.

“You wore it for me?”

You felt warmth rise to your neck but decided there was no point in hiding it. “I thought it might make this less scary for you.”

His smile faltered. “I’m not scared.”

“Spencer, you’re about to get naked.”

“You’ve seen me naked before.”

You couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. He stated it so plainly with no hint of self-consciousness or hesitation. And technically, he was right. You had seen him completely, wholly bare more times than you could count by now ever since that first night you stripped away his innocence.

You still remembered how you had pulled him across the line from a curious roommate to someone who wanted to know every inch of your body. And that night turned into another, and then another, until what you were doing stopped being about one-off hookups and started blurring the boundaries you’d drawn between friendship and something more. Something you couldn't quite put your finger on that felt heavier than lust but not quite defined as love.

Spencer was a roommate, a friend, a lover, and eventually, an active participant in your live streams.

His hands were, at least.

You took a step forward, slipping between his legs where he sat comfortably at the edge of your bed. “I have seen you naked,” you agreed, “but they haven’t.”

His hands hovered at your waist, fingers twitching over your lace as if he wasn’t sure where to put them. He glanced up at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips before he finally admitted, “Okay… maybe I am a little nervous.”

“I know, but you don’t need to be. Think of it this way, the people who are going to see us will only be jealous of you.”

“Why would they be jealous of me?”

“Because you’re the one who gets to be with me.” You reached up to brush his hair back from his face, tucking those long, unruly strands behind his ear. “They’re in their rooms jerking off to a screen while you get to kiss me.”

A kiss fell on his lips.

“Touch me.”

Another peck.

“And fuck me.”

He chased your lips this time, his mouth puckering before he closed the gap. His words were muffled against you, “I am pretty lucky.”

“The luckiest,” you mumbled back. A soft smack of a kiss lingered in the air when you pulled away. “And you don’t have to worry, once we get started, you’ll be too distracted to remember what you were even nervous about.”

He hummed, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest as his grip on your waist tightened. “I think you might be right.”

“Good.” You moved to the side of the bed. “Now let me set up the camera.”

The tripod attached to the top of your computer screen wobbled slightly as you fiddled with it, adjusting the device until the lens angled down. You observed the setup, making sure it captured your body and the way Spencer’s hand rested on your waist without revealing either of your faces.

Perfect.

“You ready?”

Surprisingly, he was.

With a slight nod from him, you turned on the live stream.

Princess_Pink is online.

Spencer’s eyes widened as the chat erupted in a flurry of notifications, messages pouring in so rapidly they blurred into an endless stream of words.

“That’s a lot of people," he muttered under his breath.

“That’s the usual amount of people.”

“No, it’s not,” he countered. “I can’t even keep up with the chat.” Which was saying a lot. For someone who could read entire pages of text in mere seconds, this was overwhelming in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

“Don’t let them intimidate you.” You turned around and slipped between his legs again, feeling the way his knees instinctively parted to make space. “Just focus on me.”

Spencer barely managed to nod before your lips met his again, and with that, everything else seemed to dissolve. He could never quite get used to how effortlessly you could unravel him with just a kiss. His hands slid up the back of your thigh, the rough pads of his fingers brushing over your skin as they trembled slightly, grazing the delicate strap of your garter before settling firmly on your ass.

A surprised giggle bubbled out of you.

“Easy there,” you murmured, catching his bottom lip gently between your teeth before letting it go with a playful tug. “I have to greet them first.”

He reluctantly loosened his grip, letting his fingers linger on you for a final moment before slipping away to rest at his sides. His eyes remained fixed on you as you turned away, shifting your focus back to the screen and reaching over to the mic.

A faint hum filled the room as it came to life. Spencer could feel his breaths gradually falling into sync before your sweet voice cut through the silence like honey.

“Hi, boys,” you purred, letting the greeting roll off your tongue. “Did you miss me?"

Princess.no1.fan: Princess!!! JadenCums: we missed those tits Adam_4432: fucking hot as always Adam_4432: purple looks good on you Crazydick: who's the skinny loser at the back

You rolled your eyes as the comment popped up in the chat.

“This is getting old,” you said with a sigh, fingers hovering over the mouse. “You’re all obsessed with him.”

With a quick flick of your wrist, you blocked the troll and watched with satisfaction as his name disappeared from the list. Spencer tried to peek over your shoulder. “What did they say?”

“Nothing important,” you replied lightly, brushing it off as you turned back to the mic. "Didn’t I tell you guys to play nice?”

Princess.no1.fan: i always play nice with you JadenCums: they’re just jealous of your boy toy Adam_4432: ignore the haters, babe BigBoss88: let him stay in the background ThickNick: you're gorgeous princess

“Remember, if you can’t behave, you don’t get to stay. And I don’t think any of you want to miss out on what we've prepared."

That was his cue, right? He forced down the tightness in his throat, the sensation catching and shifting like a dry click as his pulse quickened. With a quiet exhale, he slipped off the edge of the bed and made his way behind you.

There was a moment of hesitation. But his doubt faded into the background as he focused on the curve of your waist beneath his fingers. He let his hands move slowly, tracing upward with a touch that lingered at the dip of your spine until his fingers brushed the delicate lace of your bra.

Wide hands covered the soft swell of your breasts.

Princess.no1.fan sent a $50 gift.

“See?” you breathed, pressing your back against him. “You play nice, you get to enjoy the show.”

He couldn’t help but squeeze your flesh, fingers sinking in and then pulling back, the skin dimpling under the pressure before slowly springing back. His veins looked prominent, winding up his forearm like delicate, raised lines that caught the light on camera every time he moved over the fabric of your bra.

And the lace offered the thinnest barrier. He could feel the way your nipple firmed underneath his touch, straining subtly as if it, too, was reaching out for more. He traced small, lazy circles around it, and when you arched into him, he had to bite back a smile. He pressed a kiss on your shoulder instead.

“You’re so good at this,” you muttered, letting your hand drift up to the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair.

He let out a quiet hum of acknowledgment, his fingers hooking under the edge of your bra’s cup before pulling it down. Your breasts bounced slightly, settling naturally in his palm as the lace slipped away.

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

A soft moan escaped you as he began to explore, and Spencer couldn’t help the surge of satisfaction that followed. He was rougher than he intended to be at times, testing the line between what made you shiver and what made you push back for more. It was the way he rolled both of your nipples between his fingers, alternating between gentle pinches and firmer twists, that finally drew the most telling reaction—a subtle, instinctive rub of your ass against him.

He took it as a sign to touch you further, one hand drifting lower while the other stayed firmly in place. Goosebumps prickled over your skin as he slid down your stomach until he reached the edge of your panties. His fingers skimmed along the waistband, and you could feel his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as he brushed his knuckles underneath the delicate material, hesitating.

Adam_4432 sent you a $100 gift.

That was enough to break through his hesitation. Without a word, he slipped his fingers beneath the lace.

The heat between your thighs greeted him, and there was no mistaking what that meant. You were wet, so wet that his fingers glided over your folds like silk. He couldn’t help but feel a flicker of smugness as each subtle shift seemed to draw a new sound from your lips.

He let his fingers slide lower, searching, and when he finally found your clit, brushing his fingertips lightly over it, you jerked in his arms. The tiny, sensitive nub was swollen and begging for attention as it pulsed under his touch like a racing heartbeat. He gave gentle rubs. Slow circles. Steady pressure. The more he explored, the more your arousal smeared against his fingertips.

“Oh—you’re gonna make me cum so fast,” you gasped. You threw your head back against his shoulder, letting out a whine you knew would drive your viewers wild. “What do you think, boys? Should he make me cum now?”

The chat lit up instantly, flooded with messages begging you to let go, but between the rapid scroll of usernames and flashing emojis, one message caught your eye.

Looking4Sluts: no Looking4Sluts: cum on his cock Looking4Sluts sent you a $200 gift.

The notification flashed across the screen, and you felt a surge of adrenaline, a wicked smile playing on your lips. “Do you see that, baby?”

He nodded against your neck.

“They want more of you,” you purred, letting your hips roll back against him, pressing yourself closer to his obvious erection. “They want to see just how good you make me feel.”

Your words went straight to his cock. His touch suddenly changed as he began to move faster against your clit, and a choked gasp spilled from your lips. But just as the pressure started to build rapidly, you quickly grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand from your panties.

“No, not yet,” you stopped him, turning your head to catch his ear, your lips brushing against the shell. “Wanna cum on your cock.”

He watched as you reached down and slowly hooked your fingers into the sides of your panties, sliding them down your legs. A thin string of your arousal followed as you lowered the fabric, clinging to the lace before it finally broke and left a glistening trail against your thigh.

His balls tightened painfully.

Princess.no1.fan: Holy shit, that’s so fucking hot JadenCums: fisting my cock so hard Fatcock_777: wreck that damn pussy PussyLover69: i bet she’s fucking tight Looking4Sluts: jesus christ, she’s dripping

Spencer’s mind emptied the moment you leaned forward, planting your palms firmly on the desk for balance. The way your body arched made his pulse stutter, a surge of heat rushing through him so quickly it almost left him lightheaded.

“Like… this? Standing?”

You glanced back at him over your shoulder. “Exactly like this.”

He could barely think straight. His hands moved on their own, one sliding over your hips, gripping you firmly, while the other fumbled with his waistband, desperately tugging his pants down. The fabric slid down over his thighs, and he bit back a groan as his cock sprang free, hard and aching, pressing against the bare skin of your ass.

He could feel the heat of you against him, and it took every ounce of self-control to keep himself from sinking into you all at once. He pressed in closer, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse echoing in the ache between you both as the tip of his cock settled right where your folds parted. He rocked his hips in shallow motions.

“Baby…” You tilted your hips just enough to align with him, “no teasing."

But hearing those words only made him want to draw it out even more. He let his bulging head nudge at your hole, barely dipping in before pulling back, feeling the way you instinctively pressed against him.

"Spe—" you faltered, then groaned. "Stop it."

He couldn’t help but smile as his fingers found the straps of your garter belt. He tugged on one gently, watching the elastic snap back against your skin. "But you look so pretty."

"I'll look prettier with your cock inside me."

That did it. With one last shaky exhale, Spencer gripped your hips firmly and began to sink himself into you, feeling the tight, warm stretch of your cunt.

“Oh my god,” you gasped. He felt a slight resistance as your body adjusted to him. He carefully gave a few gentle thrusts, easing in and out just enough for you to relax.

Looking4Sluts: fuck yes JadenCums: she's so fucking tight PeachyKeen420: look at him stretching her PussyFiend69: just watching this is gonna make me cum HotForTits: Fuck her harder dude she wants it

His eyes flickered to that last comment, and something inside him shifted, like a switch flipping. Without another thought, without any lingering trace of hesitation, he tightened his grip on your hips and pushed in all at once.

Your moan tore through the air. So. Fucking. Loud.

HotForTits sent you a $300 gift

The notification flashed across the screen, but Spencer barely registered it, his control was slipping further away as his hips moved on their own. He started to grind into you, eyes traveling to your connected bodies. You were practically swallowing his cock, clenching so tightly around him that he felt like you were pulling him deeper, refusing to let him go.

In a way, you did beg for it. Each time you met his thrusts with an eager roll of your hips, the sound of skin slapping together echoed around you. He would have thought he’d be shy doing this in front of so many watchful eyes, but the way you moved against him made it impossible to care.

It only made him bolder. He let his hand slide up your back, fingers fumbling slightly with the clasp of your bra before he unhooked it. The straps slipped down your shoulders, sliding down your arms, and then you were completely, utterly naked, except for the garter hugging your thighs.

You were so pretty like this, so incredibly beautiful it made his pulse stutter in his veins. You were so pretty that it was almost disorienting, as if looking at you too long might make him forget where he was. And in his mind, all the lofty notions of beauty and art seemed to fall flat compared to seeing you like this. He needed to see all of you.

A startled whimper left your lips when he suddenly pulled out.

“Can you angle the camera down?"

There was a knowing look in your eyes. Your fingers moved to adjust the tripod, and he wasted no time stripping himself. By the time you were done angling the camera, he was already sitting on the edge of your bed, his cock throbbing against his stomach.

He looked painfully hard. Hard enough that every heartbeat seemed to pulse visibly along his length. You crawled onto his lap.

“Hi.”

His palm found the curve of your hip. "Hi."

“Are you okay?”

He nodded, his fingers tightening around the base of his cock as he urged you to lift your hips. “I think I’m starting to understand why you do this.”

“Yeah?”

"Mhm.” He nudged his tip between your folds. “It’s kind of exciting.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, fingers curling into his shoulder for balance as you began to lower yourself. “See? Nothing to be nervous about.”

A deep groan escaped his lips the moment your walls tightened around him. “You make this seem easy.”

“Maybe you’re just a natural.”

He gave a low chuckle, but it caught in his throat when he felt the full length of his cock buried inside you. “I… ah… I think you’re the one making me look good.”

“Shut up,” you replied with a grin, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “You don’t need any help looking good right now, trust me.”

Spencer wasn’t entirely sure what to think about that. He’d never seen himself like this, not in the way you did. But when he glanced over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the screen and the way your hips rolled over him, he started to believe it.

He looked like… well, like the porn he’d watched late at night in his room before you came along. But better. The kind that didn’t seem real, the kind that made him question if anyone actually had sex like that. He knew the vast majority of what’s portrayed in porn is exaggerated with only a small percentage even close to reality. Except this was real. It was really him, and you made it look like he knew what he was doing.

And sure, maybe he did in some way, albeit you being his only real experience. But that was the thing—he knew what made you tick. He could read the way your body reacted, knew the subtle cues that signaled when a whisper of his fingers could coax out a whimper or when the right shift of his hips would leave you trembling. And more than anything else, he knew how much you liked being watched.

He knew just how much it turned you on.

With that thought in mind, Spencer grabbed the firm swell of your ass and spread you open.

JadenCums: fuck yes FatCock69: she’s so wet BigdickXX: damn, I wish I could feel that pussy ILovePinkPrincess: spread her wider TommyGoode sent you a $200 giftDaddyDom92 sent you a $300 gift.

Your body squirmed beneath his hands.

“Babe… what are you doing?”

He ran his tongue over his lips. “Giving them what they want.”

Then he spread your flesh even further, fingers digging into your supple skin as he held you open. The sight was undeniably lewd, and yet he couldn’t deny the surge of pride swelling in his chest as he held you like this, putting you on full display. But more than that, it was what you wanted. The tension coiled in his muscles as he thrust his hips up, watching the movement play out in the reflection over his shoulder.

He could see everything. The slow drag of his cock, the way it stretched you open with each push, leaving no inch of you untouched. Every time he thrust up into you, his length came back slick and shining, catching the light for a split second before disappearing inside you again.

There was something hypnotic in the rhythm, in the way your body seemed to swallow him whole. And somewhere in that steady push and pull, you visibly clenched around him, a vice-like grip that sent a shudder through his body and pulled a deep, harsh groan from his throat.

His hands tightened their grip on you, and before he could think twice, his hips began moving faster. You squealed, an actual high-pitched sound that he hadn’t expected. It was almost cute in a way—if cute was even the right word for what was happening. But there was nothing cute about the way his body reacted to that sound.

His hips bucked upward, again and again by an instinct he couldn’t control. He was so lost in the sensation of your warm, slick pussy that he barely registered the rising tension in his own body. It wasn’t until his muscles locked up, his hips jerking with one final, forceful snap, that it all crashed over him.

Oh shit.

A sudden rush of heat coursed through him as he spilled inside you, the realization hitting him a second too late. His breath came in shallow gasps, a deep groan escaping his throat as pleasure overwhelmed him, leaving him stunned and gasping for air.

You paused, feeling the unmistakable warmth of his release slowly seep inside you. “Baby?”

His eyes widened. “I’m sorry,” he blurted, sliding his hands up your waist. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—that was—”

Fast didn’t even come close to describing what happened.

You cut him off with a soft laugh, shaking your head as your fingers gently cupped his jaw. “Oh, honey,” you cooed. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

His eyes flickered to the camera behind you. “I ruined everything, didn’t I?”

You followed his gaze, then turned back to him with a smile. “Of course not,” you said softly, threading your fingers through his hair. “You kind of made everything better, actually.”

His brows knitted together. “I did?”

You nodded and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“Do you know…”

You started to roll your hips again.

“How hot it is…”

A soft squelch filled the air.

“To fuck with your cum inside me?”

He could barely comprehend the words that had just left your mouth, let alone the feeling of you moving against him. His eyelids struggled to stay open, the question catching in his throat before it spilled out in a breathy whisper. “Hot?”

“Insanely hot.”

Spencer couldn’t describe what happened after that. Obscene didn’t even begin to cover it. Surreal, maybe? But even that word felt lacking. It was all too real. You were rocking your hips on his lap, and the wet, sticky sounds filling the room were undeniably his own doing.

He held your hips tighter, half in an effort to steady himself, half because he didn’t know what else to do. The words were gone. Logic was gone. The only thing that existed was you, grinding against him with the same intensity that had already undone him once.

And he knew he was going to lose it again.

You leaned forward, your forehead pressing gently against his. “Spence, baby,” you whispered, making sure your voice was soft, just loud enough that only he could hear. “Can you fuck me again?”

He couldn’t say no even if he tried. His hands slipped beneath your thighs, fingers curling with just enough force to lift you, tilting your hips for better leverage. The shift pulled a startled gasp from you and you clung to him for balance, but he didn’t give you a moment to catch your breath. His hips met yours in a swift, demanding snap.

The sound of your body meeting was unmistakable, a rhythmic slap that would’ve made him blush if he were in any state to think clearly. But right now, all he could focus on was the mess he’d made of you, the way his cum seeped out, sliding down his cock in slow drips. Whenever he thrust into you, there seemed to be more spilling out, leaving thick, creamy streaks painted across your inner thighs.

Spencer had messy sex before (all with you, of course) but this was on a whole different level. It was chaotic—unapologetically filthy. The wetness between you spread everywhere. He could feel it pooling against his thighs, trickling down your legs, and the damp sheets beneath you were clinging uncomfortably to his knees while the heady scent of sex hit his nostrils.

And your voice wasn’t helping his self-control. It was high-pitched with a tremor, somewhere between a moan and a desperate whine tumbling out in a jumble of words that barely made any sense. Your voice grew higher each minute, more frantic, until finally, he could make out a few clear words through the haze.

“Gonna c-cum,” you moaned, “I’m gonna cu—ah fuck yesyesyes—”

A final, helpless cry pushed him over the edge.

He came for the second time tonight. He tried to hold back, but the way you were clenching around him, your body pulsing through your sudden orgasm tore down what little control he had left. He groaned, burying his face in your neck as his release overtook him again, shocked that he still had anything left to give as he emptied inside you.

The intensity bordered on painful. He could feel his body pushing to its limits and every pulse of pleasure felt like it was wringing him dry. And it was no less intense for you. You jerked against him, body twitching, sweat beading on your skin. Your muscles tightened and relaxed with the rhythm of his racing heartbeat as the last spark of pleasure finally washed over you.

Neither of you moved for a while after that. The only sound in the room was your labored breathing, the heavy rise and fall of your chests pressed together.

You were the first to break the silence.

“Baby,” you hummed, a soft, breathless laugh escaping your lips, “I think that might’ve been the hottest stream we’ve ever done.”

It took a second for your words to sink in, and when they did, his eyes widened slightly. The camera was still on. The audience was still there. His nose pressed harder against your neck as he tried to hide in embarrassment.

“Really? You’re getting shy now?“

His soft groan vibrated against your skin. “I wasn’t exactly thinking about the camera,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your neck. “It left my mind the moment I… you know.”

You smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Oh, I know. I could tell.”

You started to peel yourself off of him, only for his arms to tighten around your waist. You gave a playful tap on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Holding you.”

“Why?”

“My brain needs a moment to process this.”

Your hand danced aimlessly across his back. “Still embarrassed?”

“Mortified,” he confirmed.

A giggle slipped out of you, and you wiggled your hips. “We still need to clean up. I don’t think you want to stay like this forever.”

He let out a sound of protest but didn’t loosen his grip. “Just a few more minutes.”

Smiling at his stubbornness, you slid your fingers into his hair, letting your nails scrape lightly against his scalp. "Spencer," you said gently, making sure the mic didn't pick up your voice. “I need to turn off the cam.”

"They wouldn't mind watching us a little longer."

You sighed, feeling the undeniable stickiness between your thighs. It wasn’t the most comfortable feeling, and the warmth was quickly turning into a mess that would need attention sooner rather than later. But there was something so sweet about the way he wanted to hold you that it made it impossible to resist.

"Fine," you relented with a quiet laugh, "five more minutes."

#kinktober 2024 #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

ichorai · 2 years ago

Text

snow spider ; miguel o'hara.

pairing ; miguel o'hara x spider!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; you were the ice to his fire—and miguel was burning for you.

words ; 4.4k

themes ; fluff, slight angst

warnings / includes ; set before the events of atsv, descriptions of injury/violence, cursing, a bit suggestive, mentions/appearances of other spidey characters, ben being a dramatic idiot, peter & may being adorable, cameos of magneto and doc ock, miguel is down so bad, can you guys tell i'm also in an asoiaf phase ? (winter is coming !!)

a/n ; there will be a part two set during the events of atsv !!

main masterlist.

You were Miguel’s seventeenth recruit. The first of your name. The first that wasn’t a Peter Parker, or a Jessica Drew, or a Ben Reilly.

When Miguel dropped into your universe, one rife with crime and tragedy, stricken by a never-ending winter, he fell into a large pile of snow.

“Damn it,” he whispered through chattering teeth, brushing off the frigid frost clinging to his suit and glancing around the iced-over city. There were sparse few people littering the streets, hovering over trash-fires and clutching rumbling stomachs. This was certainly a stark contrast to Nueva York—the universe looked dead, almost. A ghost town, frozen over into nothing but a glacial artifact.

Before Miguel could start forward to look for the Spider of the universe, a sticky web shot out from seemingly nowhere, binding his hands together. Ah. It seemed that you’d found him before he could find you.

“You’re not from here. I can’t smell the winter on you,” a voice echoed, saturated with curiosity, edged with caution. A second later, you materialized in front of him, clad in a white suit, sharp silver lines running over your form. On your chest was a spider, a pale snowflake engraved into its abdomen. Miguel stared at you with wide eyes. “Who are you?”

A beat of silence.

“Your universe is cold,” was all he could think of saying, still caught off-guard.

You took a step back. “My universe…?”

After clearing his throat, he shook himself out of his reverie. “My name is Miguel O’Hara. I’m from a different universe. I’m here to recruit you into my team to help keep the multiverse from collapsing.”

You shifted, muscles still tense. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

Lifting his wrists, Miguel twisted a hand and used his sharp claws to cut himself free of the sticky bonds. “Let me show you.”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Miguel wasn’t supposed to like you this much. You were just meant to be another recruit for the Spider Society… maybe a close work companion, or a trusted friend at best.

But as he watched you dart in and out of visibility, your suit only but flashes of white and silver, he couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was to work with you. How much he genuinely enjoyed working with you, spending time with you, listening to you laugh at his stiff quips. And he really thought he was being subtle about it, but Jessica had already picked up on Miguel’s keen interest in you, always teasing him about having a crush on another Spider.

It wasn’t a crush, though. No, Miguel just really liked your work ethic.

Right?

“Heads up!” you yelled, swinging forward and using the momentum to kick an incoming car barreling right in his direction. The metal doors caved in beneath the power of your strike, veering to the left just in time to miss him.

The two of you were taking down another anomaly that’d cropped up, one of the several dozens in only the past week. This anomaly, however, wasn’t the regular neighborhood villain they’d usually get, but instead an omega-level mutant: Magneto.

Shards of metal rained down around you, but you were quick to deflect by thwipping out large, sticky webs to catch them before they could impale you.

“This guy manipulates metal, Miguel!” you yelled. “Cuffs won’t work on him!”

Another large metal pole rocketed straight for you, but Miguel dove towards you, yanking you out of the way.

“Thanks!” you told him, a bit too wound up to notice his large hands tightly wound around your midriff. “Can you distract him for me?”

Nodding wordlessly, Miguel shot out several glowing, synthetic webs in quick succession to momentarily blind Magneto. You used his shoulder to launch yourself upward, turning invisible in mid-air.

Before the man could realize what was happening, you yanked his protective helmet off, landing a calculated strike to the back of his head. Immediately, all the bits of metal floating in the air came plummeting to the ground, and Magneto went limp in your hold. You swung down to the ground, coming back into view.

“You’re gonna have to alert one of the Spiders that we need a metal-free cage for him,” you told Miguel, a bit breathless.

Okay, a lot breathless. There was a sharp sting on your side—a broken piece of metal must have grazed you during the fight.

Miguel wound an arm around you to help you walk, concern festering within his chest at the sight of crimson staining your once-pristine white suit, his other hand dragging an unconscious Magneto by the scruff of his collar. With a tap of the watch, a portal opened up, flashing a multitude of bright oranges and purples.

Back in his universe, Miguel was quick to hand Magneto over to a few Peters, telling them to be careful not to get any metal near him. You pulled off your mask and squeezed Miguel’s bicep in gratitude when he shifted his hold on you, ensuring that you wouldn’t put any weight on your injured side. Even exhausted, you were beautiful. Miguel remembered the first time he saw you without your mask: the entirety of his linguistic vernacular went flying out the window and he was left embarrassingly spluttering out a long string of incoherent sentences. You were patient with him, beaming wide and nodding emphatically, even though none of what he said had made sense.

Yeah, alright, fine. Miguel had a crush. It really wasn’t a big deal (it was a very big deal). He’d be damned if he’d ever admit it to Jessica, though—that woman would never let him live it down.

Several Spiders waved hello to the two of you as you hobbled by, and you could only give them a winded half-smile in return. Some of them asked if you were alright, noticing the blood on your suit, but you reassured their worries away, “I’m fine. Miguel’s got me.”

A rush of protectiveness fell over him, and he clutched onto you all the tighter, hurrying to make his way back to the base. There were a few Spiders hanging around the control panels, chattering amongst themselves, and Miguel gave them a quick scan to make sure things were going smoothly since his departure. Once everything seemed to be in order, he finally tugged you into a more secluded room, helping you sit on a table as he grabbed the first aid kit.

“Sorry,” he murmured, ripping off his mask as well. His dark hair was disheveled, sharp brown eyes softening with guilt. “I got distracted during the fight.”

“Hey, it happens,” you replied warmly, fingers lifting to pat his cheek. The feeling of your cold skin pressed up against the blistering heat emanating from his cheeks made a shiver dance up his spine. “We’re alive, and we got the anomaly. Everything’s fine.”

“But you’re hurt.”

“I’ll heal.”

With careful, fleeting touches, Miguel drew back the ripped fabric of your suit to inspect the gash in your side. He cleaned away as much blood as he could, murmuring gruff apologies every time you flinched. The guilt worsened when he began deftly stitching up your wound—it didn’t go past his notice when your face twisted with the pain, and you bit your lip in a fruitless attempt to keep the sharp agony at bay.

“You did good out there, Y/N,” he said, desperate to distract you. “What was it like being the Spider in your universe?”

You spared him a loose grin, appreciating his attempts to keep you entertained.

“Tiring,” you admitted, fingers digging into his shoulders when he began another stitch. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard the same story a million times by now. I was a scientist, trying to find a way to reverse the never-ending winter. I was bitten by a radioactive winter-spider… the only kind of spider left after our world iced over. I, uhm… I lost my uncle. My mom, shortly after. She was captain of the police force.”

There was a long pause. It was obvious that you weren’t too keen on divulging all the details just yet. Your eyes watered with the memory, a glimmering film of tears warbling over your lower lashes, and Miguel gently patted your knee in understanding, silently reassuring you that you didn’t have to tell him everything.

You drew in a deep breath. “I realized I had powers—I had all the abilities of a spider, and I could turn invisible, and withstand the cold much more than before. I was known as the Snow Spider. A lot of people died from the frost. I couldn’t save them. I tried to help as much as I could, but it was just never enough. And then… I met you.” A smile graced your expression, one that sparked life into Miguel’s heart. “I moved from just helping my city, to helping the entire multiverse.”

Before you knew it, Miguel was tying off the last stitch, biting the thread short with his sharp fangs once he was done. You murmured a sincere thanks, placing your palm flat against his chest, feeling the quick thrum of his heart slamming against his ribcage.

If you noticed how his pulse seemed to kick up a notch with your ministrations, you didn’t say anything. For that, Miguel was grateful.

“There you go. That’s a brief summary of my life story. It’s only fair if you tell me yours.”

The man met your gaze, irises dark and warring with conflict.

“What’s there to say? I got powers, just like you. I lost people, just like you. I built the Spider Society… and then I met you.” The last bit was said as he nudged you gently, and he offered you a tentative smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Hesitant, you lifted your hand, softly grazing your knuckles against his cheek. Icy was your touch, but it felt nice—almost addicting. He found himself leaning against your hand, shutting his eyes as he exhaled.

“You’re a mystery, Miguel,” you murmured, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek as thanks for patching you up, before sliding off the table to stride away. Miguel watched you go with a lump in his throat. “Luckily for you, I like mysteries.”

“How long has that been a thing? I haven’t noticed because I’ve been too busy thinking about my… miserable past,” sighed Ben, coming to stand beside Jessica, the two of them watching Miguel follow after you like a lost puppy, face uncharacteristically mellowed with an undeniable lovesick expression.

“It’s not a thing,” she replied with an amused scoff. “Not yet, at least.”

You halted what you were doing and turned around to grin at Miguel. “Look, I stitched my suit back together. It’s good as new!”

His dark, molten eyes gleamed with affection. “It looks great.” He caught sight of your web-shooters, fixed against the base of your hand. “I still can’t believe you need those.”

“Well, I can’t believe you have spinnerets embedded into your skin. I can’t tell if I’m more grossed out or curious to know more,” you shot back, taking his hand to inspect his wrist with narrowed eyes. “What other kind of powers do you have?”

With a roguish grin, he bared his teeth, sharp fangs drawing out.

“I can never get over those. They’re kinda intimidating, but in a cool way.” Before you could stop yourself, you tacked on, “And really fucking hot.”

Heat crawled up his neck. He stared blankly at you. “They’re poisonous.”

Still, you smiled at him, all sweet and flustered. “Hm. It’s a shame, really. I definitely would’ve asked you to bite me if not for the venom.” Neither of you were quite sure if you were joking or not.

Miguel was certain he was going to combust into flames. “I can still bite you without injecting the poison into your system. It’s a voluntary response.”

To his surprise, you burst into a fit of laughter. Gods, he was absolutely smitten with that sound. The way your nose wrinkled, the side of your eyes creased, the shaking of your shoulders as you chuckled… it was all too much for Miguel.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” you warned.

“Oh, I can do much more than just tempt,” said the man in front of you, making your laughter taper away into silence.

You studied him for a moment longer. Before you could say anything, both of your watches beeped simultaneously. With one more amused huff, you patted his shoulder, brushing past him and pulling your mask over your face. “Come on, mister. Anomalies to catch, universes to save… we can continue this conversation later.”

The months pass by in a blur.

You were wrangling back another Doc Ock anomaly, having webbed up all his metal tentacles, easily tossing him into a temporary laser cage with a sweet smile. The villain was spitting obscenities, going on and on about the power of the sun in his grasp, how you’d ruined everything for him.

“You’ll pay for this!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the glowing barrier.

“Sorry, Doc,” you said with a mild grin. “I’ve met around a dozen of you, and so far, you were the most compliant. That makes you my favorite!”

You saluted him with a wink, before turning on your heel and striding away. It wasn’t long before Miguel found you, falling into step with your stride.

“Look at you, taking on anomalies all on your own,” he murmured lowly, nudging your side with his elbow. “Good job.”

With a scoff, you pulled off your mask, regarding him with an expectant gaze as you leaned forward, so close that your nose nearly brushed against his. He could feel the cold frost of your breath blow over the heated planes of his cheeks. “Well, then, Mr. O’Hara, wouldn’t I deserve a reward?”

The vampire-spider only flushed at your words, mouth falling open and shut as he struggled with a rebuttal.

Your laugh, soft and tinkering, made his heart nearly seize within his chest. Still chuckling, you shoved away from him, saying that you had to get back to your universe to make sure everything was still in order there.

As you made your way out of the room, using your watch to portal through to your wintry hellscape, Jessica appeared out of nowhere beside him, one hand on her heavily pregnant belly, and the other cocked upon her hip.

“God, you really can’t be more obvious, can you?” she asked.

Miguel spared her a glance, snapping out of his reverie and standing up straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with the Snow Spider. And don’t you deny it—I know a liar when I see one.” She watched Miguel frown, but didn’t bother protesting her claim. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Tell them, you big grump. Y/N deserves to know.”

Before he could reply, Jessica was already hastening away, yelling over her shoulder that she had to go to the bathroom because the damn baby was kicking against her bladder again.

Jealousy was not an emotion Miguel was well acquainted with. Ever since he witnessed an entire universe crumbling away in front of him, he was careful not to get too attached to anything. To anyone.

But he did. He grew attached to Jessica, who was his most trusted friend, always giving him the best advice and always available to lend him a helping hand. Though he’d never admit it, Miguel was also rather fond of Ben and his obnoxious penchant for his dramatic tragedies. And, most obvious of all, he was undoubtedly very close to his best soldier, Lego Peter.

Then there was you.

It infuriated him—the way you’d smile around him, give him the most fleeting of touches, always pleasantly cold, leaving prickly goosebumps in your wake. You would offer him an affectionate nudge and a myriad of teasing compliments that made his stomach want to fold in upon itself. But Miguel tried not to think too much of it: you were a generally kind person, with many of the Spiders in the society taking a certain liking to you. It didn’t go past his notice that you’d caught more than a few romantic eyes. Every time a Peter or a Ben would openly flirt with you, he could feel himself bristling, bile rising within his throat.

Again, Miguel wasn’t used to feeling jealous. He wanted to be the one cooking dinner for you, holding you in his arms, kissing you, touching you—

To his relief, you never paid them much mind, often politely declining with a poorly-forged excuse of having to return to your universe.

It was nearly a year since you’d first met Miguel when you were at Headquarters, holding a babbling Mayday as she crawled all over you. You laughed when she climbed up onto your shoulders, slipping down into your hands with a gleeful coo, blue eyes bright and wide. With gentle hands, you brushed her messy ginger hair away from her face.

“She doesn’t look like you, huh?” you asked Peter B. Parker. “She must be a carbon copy of her momma.”

“A good thing,” admitted the man beside you, muffling a yawn as he dug the heels of his palms into his sleep-deprived eyes, adorned with dark bags. “Wouldn’t want her taking after her old man, now would I?”

“Why not?” you asked, amusedly watching when May shot out a web from her tiny shooters, swinging away to clumsily scale a nearby wall. “I think you’re very handsome. Trust me, the sleep-deprived look is very trendy right now. In my universe, at least. Nobody can really sleep well with the never-ending cold we got going there.”

Peter gave you a loose smile. “You know what, you’re right. Dad bods are making a comeback. By the way, did I tell you about my coin collection—”

Before Peter could finish what he was saying, your watch beeped noisily, and Ben’s slumped hologram appeared over your wrist. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here,” he said. You had to hold your tongue not to retort that he was the one that’d called you. “I need you to come comfort me and hold onto my strong, muscular arms as I tell you about my gruesome past.” The pale image of Ben flickered as he flexed his biceps.

You rolled your eyes to the side. Ben had become a close friend during your time with the Spider Society, nearly inseparable after you’d saved his life from an Electro anomaly once. That man was quite the emotional one, he was.

“I’ll be there, just give me a minute.”

“Bring me one of those Spider-burgers, will you? Extra ketchup and no p—”

You tapped at your watch and his hologram disappeared before he could finish his request. With a mild wince, you glanced at Peter. “You wanna come with me and listen to Ben dramatically mope for an hour? I’ll treat you and May to Spider-burgers, because it looks like I’ll have to stop by there, anyway.”

“I would, I really would, but I gotta put May down for a nap,” he said with a sympathetic slant of his lips. As if on cue, the baby fell back into Peter’s arms, yawning widely. Bouncing her up and down, Peter absent-mindedly remarked, “Make sure Miguel doesn’t catch you being all sweet with Ben. That guy is crazy about you. Hah, he’d lose his marbles!”

You blinked.

“What?”

Peter froze, realizing what he’d just said.

“What?” he parroted.

“No, uh, what did you say, about Miguel being…”

“Nothing! Huh? I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did. I heard you. Peter, what are you saying? Miguel is—?”

Sheepish, Peter scratched the back of his head. “Oh, wow, would you look at the time!” Peter pulled down the sleeve of his pink bathrobe to mimic looking at the watch. He hastily stepped away. “I have to go. I didn’t say anything. Bye! I’d love a Spider-burger with you another time! Bye! See you later!”

You watched in bewilderment when the older man swung away with his baby in his hands, muttering out a long string of panicked curses under his breath.

Miguel was crazy about you?

After a few seconds of deliberating your next move, you shot out a web and swung away, heading to Miguel’s private office, where you knew he would be buried in figuring out a solution to the influx of new anomalies. Surely Ben would be alright with you showing up a bit late (he wouldn’t, but you had more pressing matters at hand).

“Hey, Miguel,” you greeted with a soft voice, slipping inside after knocking twice. “Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

The man offered you a warm grin. “Never a bad time with you. What’s going on?”

“Well, I just… I had a rather interesting talk with Peter B,” you started, striding across the office until you stood just in front of his desk, with Miguel on the other side.

He tilted his head. “Was it about that collection of coins he lost to an anomaly? He needs to get over that.”

“I—what? The poor guy lost his coin collection? He’d been working on that for years!” Shaking your head, you mindfully got back on track. “Well, no, that’s not what we talked about.”

Dark eyes narrowing, Miguel crossed his arms, deadpanning, “What did he tell you?”

There was a rather mischievous hue to your expression that Miguel misliked. Slow and deliberate, you stepped around the desk, fingers dragging along the smooth top. You stood so close to him that your chest was only a hair’s breadth from his—if he were to take too deep a breath, the two of you would be touching by now.

“Hm… Peter accidentally let slip that you have feelings for me. Is that true, Miguel?” The way his name rolled off your tongue nearly made him choke as his brain short-circuited.

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, echoing the exact thing he had said to Jess a month ago.

You studied him, gaze dragging from his stiff face, to his tense stature, and back up again. It may have been a trick of light, but Miguel could swear he saw your eyes linger on his lips.

With a hum, you leaned even closer. He could hear your heart thrumming now, a steady, strong beat—which completely juxtaposed against his own rapid pulse, drumming loud within his ears. Up this close, he could smell your perfume, see the flecks of color within your pretty eyes, notice the way your lips quirked up with a sweet smile. Even whilst teasing him, you made sure that you weren’t overstepping any bounds, giving him ample time to step away if need be.

“Oh,” you said, feigning confusion. Your hand rested upon his clavicle, nails lightly dragging down his neck. A sharp thrill struck down Miguel’s spine at the sensation. You were barely touching him, for God’s sake! “So you wouldn’t mind if I… go ask Ben out for dinner?”

A beat of silence. Miguel’s brows knitted together.

The next words were susurrated as you dipped forward to nudge your nose along his neck, pressing a cold whisper of a kiss along the underside of his jaw. “Or if I… I don’t know… if I invite him to stay at my place for the night?”

Of course, there was no real weight to your words. Ben was simply a good friend, but damn if you didn’t enjoy the way Miguel’s eyes twitched.

Finally snapping, a low growl rumbled within his chest, his hands shooting out to grab your waist. You were cold to the touch, the ice to his fire, as his fingers curled over your back, shoving you up against the wall behind his desk. As if on instinct, your hands came to clutch at his broad shoulders.

You smiled, wide and triumphant. You’d finally broke him.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he gruffed, staring deep into your eyes to make sure you were alright with this. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. From your gleeful expression, Miguel could see that you were just the opposite.

“Oka—mmph!”

His lips slanted over yours, warm and rough, yet cold and soft at the same time. It was a kiss of starkly juxtaposing contrasts, heavy with months and months of unspoken yearning. His large nose brushed against your cheek, angling his face to kiss you harder—deeper.

When one of your hands slithered up the back of his neck to tug at the roots of his dark hair, he sighed against your mouth, breaking the kiss to lean his forehead over yours.

“He was right,” said Miguel.

“Who was?”

“Peter. I do have feelings for you.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth, nudging your nose against his sharp cheekbone. “Really? I would’ve never guessed.” He surged forward to kiss you again, relishing in the way you just about melted into his touch. “If it wasn’t obvious already, I really like you, too.”

At your admission, Miguel beamed, loose and hesitant. “You still planning on asking Ben out to dinner and having him stay over at your place, then?”

You tapped a finger onto your chin, pretending to have a good, long think about it. “Give me a good reason to stay, and I won’t.” At Miguel’s slightly crestfallen expression, you patted his cheek, quick to say, “God, Miguel, I was just kidding. Ben and I are good friends. You and I, however… I wouldn’t exactly call you a friend—”

His lips met yours again, stealing the rest of your words from you.

When you smiled into the kiss, he smiled back. It was a bit too early for love, sure, but Miguel already knew he was in too deep to back out.

He was falling in love with you.

The thought terrified him to no end, but he merely kissed you harder, and clutched you all the closer to him.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfic #across the spiderverse fanfiction #spiderverse fanfiction #miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara #spider-man 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv fanfiction

12K notes · View notes

aliteralsemicolon · 4 months ago

Text

I'll wait for your love - 18+

See part 1 | See Part 2 | Part 3 of We can't be friends (wait for your love)

The only thing you’re sure of is that you don’t want things to go back to the way they were and Spencer agrees that change may be for the best.

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER This story is NSFW and contains graphic depictions + detailed descriptions of adult content. It is intended for mature audiences only, minors do not interact! You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read.

WARNINGS: Panic attack mentioned, slight PTSD depictions, case details (barely) mentioned, alcohol mentioned like once. Smut (not the focus at all): making out, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, praise, use of pet names (angel, pretty girl, etc). Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 10.4K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

Avoiding Spencer wasn’t overly difficult on the flight back to D.C. You weren’t entirely sure how to face him after he risked his life for you, so you just pretended to be asleep the whole time. You even took a separate jeep from the tarmac to avoid a car ride back with him, and almost made a clean getaway to your car in the parking lot when Hotch stopped you.

“I’m sorry to hold you back, but I do need the Anchorage report on my desk before tomorrow morning. It can’t be put off any longer.”

He looked extremely apologetic and you understood. You’re grateful he gave you as much time as he has. That’s how you ended up stuck at work til the later hours of the evening. Besides the few workaholics, security guards and janitors roaming around the corridors, the only other person there with you is Spencer, oddly. Even Hotch has gone home. You’ve spent more time stalking the doctor work through the pile of case files on his desk than you have writing in the one on yours. Only when you're caught do you look away.

“Everything okay?” The innocent curiosity in his big eyes further reddens the hot embarrassment in your cheeks.

“Fine.” You mutter, dipping your head back down to the open page.

You’re never going to get this damn file done if you can’t get him out of your head, and him being barely three feet away from you doesn’t help. It’s very difficult for you to get your words from pen to paper. Anchorage wasn’t haunting you like it did at first. It was a traumatic event, yes, but alone isn’t the cause of this…block. Obviously the reality that you’re leaving is starting to dawn on you. Somehow your mind has linked this case with your departure and finishing this report makes it more official than your actual resignation.

Plus, as much as you definitely hate Spencer, you do did care for him. The shock of him almost getting himself killed in front of you is another thing occupying your mind. It’s barely been twenty four hours since then, it’s still fresh. You can see him stand and grab his satchel in your peripheral vision, he’s preparing to leave. There are a lot of memories attached to that brown leather bag.

Things he would carry in there for you when you forgot your own bag.

You don’t make it obvious that you’re watching him gather his things in small glances.

He bought extra hair clips for you to keep in there because you would often forget those too.

It’s over now. No point in dwelling on it. You shake your head once he’s out of sight, trying to force him out of your thoughts. Now that he’s gone you’re hoping to actually be able to get some work done.

He taught you chess with the mini chess set he keeps in there. You discovered that you actually quite liked chess and would ask to play with him all the time. It was also his ‘secret’ weapon to help you calm down.

You roll your eyes to push back the tears from the memories that refuse to stop playing. This can wait until you get home, it’s not important.

It wasn’t the chess set that helped you feel calm. Spencer could win chess against you in just a few moves, but he would deliberately stretch out the game so you could have room to breathe. The longer the game, the more time you had to spend focused on the moves and slow down your thoughts. You could open up at your own pace. He would let you feel in control.

It doesn’t matter if he’s near you or not, Spencer has a way of invading your headspace wherever he is. Your train of thoughts is interrupted with a light thud on your right. You covertly roll the tears away again and turn to examine the source of the noise. A mug of coffee placed on your desk by

“Spencer?” You sputter breathlessly.

“Sorry. I know you told me to stop. This is the last time I promise.”

You don’t fully comprehend what he’s going on about, not expecting him to be here at all.

“I thought you left.”

“I did– was. I was leaving, but I thought I’d make you some coffee before I go. Since you’ve been here a while.” He awkwardly explains.

You steadily direct your attention back to the mug, reeling in what was happening.

“Before you get mad, this really is just a cup of coffee from a colleague who thought it might help keep you energised if you’re planning to stay late. There’s no ulterior motive…”

He continues rambling but you’re not mentally present to hear any of it.

He made you coffee.

Even though you’ve been nothing short of an absolute bitch. Granted he was a bitch first, but the point is that he’s still thinking of your well being regardless. You can’t hide your tears from him this time. It’s the soft buzz of your name that draws you back to him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you! I’ll take the coffee–”

His panicked sentiment is cut short when you jump out of your seat and shove past him. The breakdown you’ve been avoiding hits you like a ton of bricks. You run into the nearest empty office and he runs after you, making it past the door before you can lock him out.

“Spencer p–please get out! I’m fine.” You’re pacing in the same spot, fanning away the stream falling down your cheeks, hyperventilating.

He doesn’t respond to you, instead cautiously taking your hand in his. You’re in too frenzied a state to care. He guides you to sit on the couch against the wall and you blindly go along with it, still trying to get yourself together.

You want to stop the tears, but you can’t do that until you get your breathing under control. He slowly wraps his arms around you and you slump into him, head buried in his chest. You should try to fight it, you should push him away, but you can’t. Right now, surrounded by his scent, held in his arms, you don’t want to move. It’s not something you can properly explain, but the feeling is so comforting that nothing else matters. All you know is that you’re safe and that’s enough for you to allow yourself to finally break down.

The first few sobs are loud, like there’s not enough air in the world to stabilise your lungs. They fizzle out into silent whimpers and you grasp onto the fabric of his sweater, balling it in your fist, just letting yourself feel. Spencer still hasn’t said a word. His right hand is rubbing circles on your back and his left hand is gently scratching just above the nape of your neck.

You stay like that for a while, even after you’ve stopped crying. It’s been so long since you’ve been in this little bubble with him and you don’t want it to end. You pull away when you feel the strap of his satchel across his stomach as your hand drops to his lap. He visually follows every move you make.

“You’re still wearing your bag.” You sniffle, leaning back.

“I am.” He whispers, understanding that you no longer want to be touched.

He stays in his original position; facing you, but now with one arm resting on top of the backrest and the other idly in his lap. You’ve moved so that now you're facing ahead with your back leaning against the cushions, pulling your knees into your chest. You had never found comfort in silence until the first time you experienced it with Spencer. Staying huddled, you divert your eyes towards him. There’s a distinct wet patch on his shirt. It’s less visible on his sweater-vest, but it’s there.

“Your shirt’s wet now.” It’s almost impossible to make out what you’re saying with your mouth muffled against your arm, but of course, Spencer manages anyway.

“It’ll dry.” He smiles, tone delicate.

“But– germs.” You choke a little due to your previous crying.

“It can be washed.” He’s using his comforting voice again.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

The silence resumes. Neither of you dares to move, trying to freeze this moment. It’s obvious that you didn’t grasp how badly you craved each other’s presence.

“D–do…” The initial sound grabs Spencer’s full attention again. You take a deep breath, hoping he wants to stay here as much as you do. “Do you still carry that little chess set with you?”

A small, airy chuckle comes out from him.

“Would you like to play?”

“Please.”

He creates some more space between you and begins to set up the board once he’s pulled it out of his satchel. You move to accommodate the set up, now facing him with your legs crossed on the couch and shoes abandoned on the floor. You wait for him to make the first move. After the opening moves the game doesn’t seem to get any harder and you know he’s throwing the game. You’re okay at chess, but he’s obviously a lot better.

“You’re going easy on me.” You mumble.

“Because you’re not even trying.” He replies blithely.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Like I said, you’re making it too easy.” He gently teases.

“Not that. Helping me. You hate me, remember?” You say it like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

“I don’t hate you.”

“You literally told me that you hate me.” You chuckle, numb to the hurt that sentence once brought you.

“So did you.” He counters in defence, trailing your hand as it carelessly moves your queen to her demise.

“I was angry.”

“So was I.” He spared your queen, in turn leaving his king vulnerable.

“It doesn’t matter now…” You don’t finish the rest of your sentence but Spencer still hears it.

You’re leaving soon anyway.

“It matters to me.” If he left something unsaid you choose to ignore it.

“You’re letting me win.” You whisper, feeling the urge to cry some more, but there’s no tears left.

He doesn’t make a move, bringing the game to a halt. He’s waiting for you to meet his eyes. You know what he’s going to say.

“Spencer, don't.” You beseech.

“Why?” If you looked at him instead of the board you’d see the way his eyes are pleading at you.

“There’s no point.” This time it’s your voice that cracks.

You're looking everywhere else and it makes you too aware of your surroundings. Like how the couch is lined up directly under a window that anyone could peek into.

“Leaving is not the only option.” He solicits.

He regards your discomfort and closes the blinds from where he’s sitting, pulling you back into the privacy of your bubble.

“There’s nothing that you can say to make things go back to how they were.” You bite the inside of your cheek, fiddling with a random pawn.

It’s not a proper two way conversation. You’re talking to yourself just as much as Spencer’s talking to you. You’re both trying to convince you of what you’re saying.

“Things don’t have to go back to how they were.” The squeaks in his soothing tone are starting to melt any resolve you have left.

“There’s no reason for me to stay.” You oppose, trying to make any argument stick.

“I can think of more reasons for you to stay than for you to go.”

There’s an underlying tension bubbling. Neither of you notice it over your desperate tug of war.

“I don’t think there’s anything that you can say to get me to stay.” Another baseless sentence meant more for you than for him.

“Give me one chance. One chance to convince you.” He can see your internal struggle at his request and he throws out one final plea to sway you. “For nothing more than closure.”

Closure.

You’ve spent months in turmoil over the hows and the what ifs, trying to conjure answers to questions that wouldn’t stop pestering you. You couldn’t turn him down even if you wanted to.

“Closure?” You repeat, eyes finally latching onto his.

“Closure.” He whispers back in reassurance.

“Even if you can’t convince me?” You caution, not wanting to give him false hope.

He doesn’t say anything, thinking over the scenario in his head. He simply nods and you mimic the action, blinking away the blur in your vision and dragging around chess pieces. It takes Spencer a second to figure out that you were moving them back to their default places.

“Okay new game.” You announce.

Spencer blinks in confusion, waiting for you to elaborate.

“I can ask you any question I want and you have to answer honestly. If by the end of the game I’m not convinced to stay, you back off for the remainder of my time here.” You pause for him to interject, but he doesn’t. “That means we stay away from each other, only talking when needed for work. Even then as cordially and professionally as possible. No more trying to make casual conversation or bringing me coffee or anything like that.”

“Till the end of the game?” He studies you.

“Yup.” You smack your lips together. “Til one of us checkmates the other.”

“This means you’ll actually give me a fair shot?”

“Between the two of us, I’m not the one known for cheating at games.” You jab, trying to ease the tension you could definitely feel now.

“I meant a fair shot at convincing you. As in you’ll seriously take what I have to say into account.” He discards your attempt.

“No, I know. The opportunity was just too good to pass up.”

He can tell you’re trying to hold back a laugh from the small smile on your lips. It’s as adorable to him now as it was the first time he saw it.

“Any rules before we start?” He asks, unable to hide his own smile.

“Only that we have to be honest.” You answer, immediately dropping your smile.

“Okay.” He agrees, smiling slightly wider.

“Okay.” You nod again.

When he finally makes the first move it hits you that you don’t actually know where to start. Theoretically, you know what you want to ask, but don’t know how to ask. You don’t know if you should jump straight into the questions or start with some ice breakers. Nothing is said for about four to five moves when Spencer pauses the game.

“Are you going to ask any questions or have you decided that you just want to play one last game for your closure?”

“Huh?” You snap your vision away from the board. “Oh, sorry. I was thinking.”

“Do you want to return to the game after thinking of a few questions to ask?” He raises his brow and relaxes his jaw.

“No, no, we don’t need to do that. Let’s keep playing, the questions will come to me.” You brush off his suggestion and motion for him to continue with his turn. He doesn’t.

“What?” Your voice raises and you scrunch your nose from perplexity.

“Sorry, it’s just that you’ve put us on a time limit and this is how you’re using our time?” He airs, failing to conceal his amusement.

“Well excuse me if I don’t exactly have a list of questions ready to go for you.” You narrow your eyes in annoyance.

“Why would you suggest this if you don’t have any questions?” He tries to hold back his laugh and ends up snorting as a result.

“I have questions!” You jabber, unable to maintain your annoyance. “I don’t know what– where do I even start?”

“Start with whichever one comes to you first.” He shrugs, finally making his move.

A lot of things come to mind when you think about it. The thing that screams the loudest twitches a nerve and you become instantly irate.

“Okay.” You nod, tone harsh and flat. “Let’s start with whatever the fuck possessed you on the last case. What was your thought process when you put your life in danger like that?”

He almost gets whiplash from the change in mood, his face literally reads ‘are you serious?’.

“He was going to shoot you.” He states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“I was wearing a vest, I would’ve been fine.” You contend.

“I wasn’t willing to take that risk.”

“Risk?! You literally put yourself in danger for no reason!”

“I think it was a pretty good reason actually!”

“Spencer that was–” You stop yourself with a grumble, inhaling deeply.

“It was instinctual, okay?” He softly explains. “I saw him aim the gun at you and I just reacted.”

“Well it was a stupid reaction!” You whine.

“I’m not going to apologise for it.”

The glare you give is piercing, you bite the inside of your cheek to hold your tongue before you say something you can’t take back. Spencer throws his head back and sighs.

“But I will promise not to do it again.” He adds, not fully intending to keep it.

This was slowly turning into another argument, both of you shooting back too fast with your responses. You aren’t in the mood for another argument. So you redirect your attention to the game.

“Check.” You mumble, buying yourself time to think of another question. “Why are you here so late anyway?”

“I wanted to finish some work before tomorrow morning.” He replies, moving his king to safety.

“Yeah, what’s up with that? You could’ve done those tomorrow as well.” Your voice softens out of curiosity.

“I wanted to get them finished in case there were more tomorrow.” It’s not his best excuse. You don’t know what he means by that. He doesn’t know what he means by that. He’s lying to you.

You scoff, poking your tongue against your cheek. “Wow. You really can’t not cheat during a game, can you?”

“Right, sorry.” Spencer clears his throat after the initial confusion clears. Complete honesty, it was your only rule. “I wanted to be here.”

“For…” You egg on, purposely rolling your ‘r’s to prompt him.

“I wanted to make sure that you were okay.” He admits, looking away from you.

“Why?” You’re genuinely puzzled at the admission. “You’re the one who almost died. I mean, it was stupid and your fault, but still. If anything I should be checking up on you.”

“Check.” That’s the only response he gives you. He hopes that you don’t push further, but he knows that you will.

His lack of response only forces you to think about the possible reasons by yourself, using context clues to figure it out. You are a profiler, after all.

“Is this because of the panic attack?” You note how his jaw twitches when he swallows at the mention. “It is! You seriously chose to spend your night stuck at the office because of that?”

“What else was I supposed to do? It’s not like you would talk to me, you literally refused to even look at me!” He gripes.

“Spencer I think anyone would panic if they got tackled to the ground by a six foot man without warning. I’m fine.” You giggle.

“What happened to complete honesty?” It’s his turn to glare at you.

“I am being honest!” You protest.

“Lying by omission is not being honest.” He rolls his eyes.

“Okay Mr. know-it-all, what am I lying about?” You challenge.

“Seriously? You don’t remember?” His approach is doubtful and he just stares at your dazed expression.

“Fucking spit it out already, Spence!”

Any sarcasm he had geared up for a response dissipates at your use of his nickname. He’s heard it plenty in the last few months, but not from you. For a moment things feel like they never changed. It stings in a bittersweet kind of way.

“You sc–screamed– uh–” He clears his throat and rapidly blinks, his nose twitches in the process. “During that panic attack, you repeatedly asked me to stay with you. Y–you, uh– you said you didn’t think you could li–”

“Stop. Stop. Stop talking.” Your voice quavers and you hold your hand up, ears burning up. “I don’t wanna know.”

You don’t know why it makes your heart race the way it does, you don’t even remember it. He waits a while before speaking up again, wanting to be careful about how he goes about the topic without you shutting down.

“May I ask you a question?” He voices professionally, trying to make the conversation less personal so you don’t feel cornered.

You nod, moving your king out of check.

“Is there anybody you will talk to about Anchorage? Without pushing them away?” He keeps the game going as he speaks to provide you with a distraction.

“Woah– Anchorage? Where is that coming from?” You titter.

“I want you to remember that we promised to be honest and I won’t push if you ask me to stop, but I know for a fact that you aren’t okay.” He waits for you to stop him but you don’t, even though you know roughly what he’s going to say. “Panic attacks aside, your avoidant behaviour around the topic, inability to focus, being easily startled, you’re showing signs of PTSD.”

“Spence, c’mon. I don’t need to talk to anyone. I already passed the psych evals.” You attempt to make light of the situation with carefully chosen words so you’re not lying. It was a futile attempt, you know he’s not willing to budge when he doesn’t give you anything more than a blank stare.

“Why does this matter so much to you?” You sigh in defeat. “Whatever happened…that’s a part of the job, you know that.”

“I also know, first hand, that it takes over your life. You can’t run from it, no matter how much you try to.” His tone is soft as he speaks, yet you feel like he’s accusing you.

“I am not running! Why would you say I’m running?” You object with a high voice, shrugging your shoulders. “And it’s not taking over my life. Also, check.”

“Because that’s what you do when you don’t want to deal with something.” He states point blank.

“Woah– so– that was entirely unnecessary.” You stammer, unable to deny it.

“I’m not criticising you. I just happen to know you and I know that you have a tendency to run from your problems. And it is taking over your life.”

“You’re profiling!” You gasp.

“You know that it’s not something we can just turn off! No matter how much we pretend like we can.” He waves his hands defensively.

You can’t argue with that, your lips twisting to the side.

“You want me to be honest?” You murmur sheepishly.

“Always. Please.” He responds gently, wanting you to be as comfortable as possible.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I spend a good chunk of my day actively avoiding thinking about it, but somehow I always end up thinking about it anyway. At times it’s like I can almost feel…” You breathe in instinctively. “This is the first time in months I’ve been able to do anything without it lingering in the back of my mind. Can we please talk about it another time? I would rather talk about other things…”

Another time.

“...right now.”

You’ve implied that there will be another time to talk and he definitely caught it, even if he pretends that he hasn’t. You don’t even know if what you said is true, you got too comfortable with the familiarity of his friendship. It was something you said out of habit from back when you two actually were friends. Not even a full hour's worth of conversation with him and he’s already worming his way back in.

“Um–” You drag yourself further back on the couch, creating more physical distance.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it at all.” Spencer senses your urgency to leave the situation and jumps into damage control. “It’s your turn.”

“No, um, I should– I should go. Thanks for doing thi– helping me.” You turn away from him, aiming for your shoes and ready to bolt.

“The game’s not over.” He points out.

“Yes it is.” You declare, still in the process of putting on your shoes.

“You said til checkmate.” He huffs, shifting out of his seated position.

“I forfeit!” You throw your arms out in a shrugging manner, standing up after him.

“I can’t believe this. You’re going back on your word!” He doesn’t even raise his voice. He’s just hurt.

“What’s the point, Spencer? Closure doesn’t mean anything, I’m still leaving! You can’t magically change my mind!” You yell, getting louder with each sentence.

“I disagree. I think that you’re running again!” He blocks your way and yells back, maintaining his volume throughout.

“Maybe you should think less!” You suggest, still yelling. Sarcasm is your defence mechanism when you have no actual defence.

“You know what else I think?” He continues, emphasising the word ‘think’ every time he says it out of spite. “I think that you agreed to this thinking I won’t be able to convince you, but I am!”

“I don’t care what you–”

“I think you don’t want to finish the game that you started, because you’re afraid to ask the harder questions!”

“Stop.” You command, but it doesn’t deter him.

“I think that you’re scared to hear my answers because then it all becomes too real for you–”

“Stop!” The words almost get stuck in your throat, but you choke them out. “You’re wrong.”

“If I’m wrong then prove it. To both of us.” He sits back down and motions to the board. “Ask the real questions.”

“I don’t need to prove anything, you’re wrong.” You uphold.

“So leave.” He challenges, knowing that you won’t be able to.

If you truly believed that he’s wrong you wouldn’t feel the need to prove it, but you do and he knows that. You walk back over to the couch, head nodding from irritation, tongue poking your cheek. You kick your shoes off with a bit of force and return to your earlier position across from him.

“Your move.” He reminds you as you settle in.

You don’t reply yet, but move your rook to set him up for the next move.

“Check.” He smugly states.

“Who was she?”

You don’t move, examining him close for any change in his behaviour. He obviously didn't anticipate that question first, snapping his sights back on you.

“Sorry?”

“The woman who greeted me at your door. That night at your apartment.”

“Charlotte.” He replies, holding your gaze to show you he’s got nothing to hide. “We met at the library a week before.”

“Are you guys together?” You break away first, diverting your eyes to the chess board and trying to seem unfazed when moving your knight.

“No, God, no.” He denies immediately.

“I don’t know, she seemed pretty cosy for someone you met a week prior.” You don’t mean to sound as snide as you come across.

“No, it wasn’t like that at all.” He shakes his head.

“You sure? Because I’m pretty sure I saw her mark you up with a kiss on your cheek before disappearing.” You don’t look at him, examining a captured pawn as you wait for him to make his move.

“Mark me up?” He cognizes it instantly. “Are you…jealous?”

“What? No!” You vehemently deny, your voice rising in several pitches.

“You are!” His eyes widen.

“I am not jealous.”

His jaw slacks and he lets out an amused scoff. He doesn’t say anything, making you feel the need to fill the silence.

“I only bring it up because…I know you have a thing with…germs.” Your words falter because of your own uncertainty and you want to dissolve into the fucking floor.

Spencer tries to suppress a smile by poking his tongue out slightly. If the atmosphere was lighter he’d tease you about it, but he doesn’t want to make you take off again. Still, he feels the need to clarify the events of the night.

“I don’t know why she kissed my cheek, it was completely random.” He takes his time saying it, still fighting a smile.

You swallow nervously and purse your lips to the side in response. One question answered and you only have new ones in its place. Did she stay the night? Did she sleep on the couch or on his bed? Did he see her again?

“I drove her home right after you left.” He can almost hear your thoughts.

“Was it a date?” You softly gulp again, unsure if you even have a right to know.

“Yes.” He hesitates.

“Oh.”

“I wanted to try out casual dating for once.” He chagrins. “I honestly don’t know how you did it, it’s not even fun.”

“No it’s not.” You chuckle dryly. “So no second date, I presume?”

“Definitely not. I was just stressed the whole time.” He chuckles with you.

“Take a shot of tequila before you go next time, it helps settle the nerves.” You joke, jumping to give him advice you hope he doesn’t take. You can’t help it, it’s what you’ve always done. Even if it goes against what you desire.

“While moderate consumption of tequila can help relax the nervous system, I will not be turning to alcohol for stress relief.”

“Then blast classical music while you get ready and give yourself a pep talk out loud, it’s actually really efficient–”

“There won’t be a next time. For a really long time, if ever.” He interjects, miffed at your insistence.

“You willingly plan on committing to lifelong celibacy?” You exclaim with a puzzled look. “Why?!”

Spencer laughs at how raw your reaction is. He didn’t plan on giving out any more details but, with that prompt he decides that it’s now or never.

“I don’t think any future dates will appreciate me picturing someone else in their place the whole time.”

Oh.

Both of you lock eyes at the same time. This is not a road you’re prepared to go back down, even if that’s literally the whole point of this conversation. You’re too stunned to reply and Spencer uses this as an opportunity to be elaborate. He doesn’t want any misunderstandings this time.

“I couldn’t stop pictur–”

“Shut up.” You blurt out the sentence in almost one word.

Your heart’s racing like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff. You’re flustered, every part of your body is heated from how terrified you are.

“Y–you don’t have t–t…you don’t owe m–me an explanation.” You try to elaborate, contradicting yourself and stumbling on your words.

“I want to.” He reads that you’re apprehensive but pushes regardless.

“Please don’t.” The tears that you thought had dried out were building again.

“Why ask if you won’t let me answer?”

You don’t have anything to say to that. Did you want answers? Yes. Still, you didn’t expect how hard they’d be to hear. He whispers your name and you scramble to think of your next move, and not in chess. You’re unable to even think about the game right now. You want to bolt, but you can’t even get yourself to move. So you deflect.

“Because it doesn’t matter.”

“I disagree.” Although his tone is subdued, the pace of his wording is faster. “I think it does matter and that’s why you’re afraid to hear it.”

He’s right but you can’t bring yourself to agree. This is only going to over-complicate an already complicated situation.

“It’s not enough.” Your voice cracks.

“How can it be if you won’t even give it a fair shot?”

“Fair?”

It comes out louder than you intended. His words trigger resentment within you and you snap.

“Nothing about any of this is fair! I mean, fucking hell, Spencer, four years. That’s how long we’ve been friends. I mean I’ve shared shit that I thought I would be taking to the fucking grave with you! You were my best friend for four fucking years and all it took was like, five seconds?”

You sob, softer than when you were first crying, but the frustration is clear. He reaches out to touch your hand, but you push his hand away.

“No!” You choke, sobbing harder when you try to compile your thoughts. “Five seconds to destroy all of it! It makes me wonder if everything we shared, our friendship, was it ever even that strong?”

Your anger simmers to sadness, as evident with how your yelling fades into whispering in the last sentence.

“I can’t even tell you when exactly those five seconds were. I mean, I know…but…I don’t. Where did it go wrong, Spence?”

“I don’t know.” Is all he can say after a beat of silence.

He knows exactly where it went wrong.

“Yeah, me neither!” You sniffle, immediately wiping a single tear that manages to escape. “So again, it doesn’t matter.”

“When you took it back.”

“What?”

“That’s where everything changed for me. You showed up at my apartment drunk, after your date with Nathan. Your exact words were ‘I mean as an amazing friend’.” His voice strains like he’s forcing himself to speak.

Your gaze falls, eyes darting everywhere as you try to jog your memory beyond the one sentence you remember.

“I don’t understand.” You croak.

“You know, if I wasn’t who I am, maybe you could love me the way I love you.” He chuckles bitterly, fighting back tears of his own. “That was– that was, uh, what you said before you took it back.”

“Spence, please…” You whine without sound, tilting your head back and chewing on your lip as a final attempt to stay composed.

“No, you wanted to know where it went wrong.” He laughs falsely to downplay his tears. “You can say it doesn’t matter all you want, but the fact is, it does matter. It matters to me and I won’t let you run from it anymore.”

You can’t look at him. Not with tears free falling down your face. You cup your hands together in your lap, pressing your fingers and nails together.

“You told me that I couldn’t love you.” You struggle to sound your words.

“I’m an idiot.” Another chuckle, but he sounds defeated. “When you said that, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to say that I do love you.”

You tearfully laugh at this admission.

“I only took it back because of what you said. I panicked. I thought I’d ruined things…which I guess, I still did.” Another laugh from you.

Spencer responds with the same regretful sound.

The irony spurs another fit of giggles amongst you, this one slightly longer and infinitely more rueful than the last. You look anywhere but at each other until it grows quieter.

“If you loved me, why the fuck would you tell me that I couldn’t love you?” You sound just as, if not more, defeated than him.

“Love.” Spencer corrects without missing a beat.

Your brows twitch up and your heart jumps.

“I was so hung up on every single part of your sentence that I didn’t know what to say first.” He proceeds to answer you without leaving much room to process what he said. “I wanted to tell you that I do love you. I love you as you are. Not as somebody else.”

“But you didn’t say any of that.” You ignore all his admissions, not fully comprehending.

“Like I said, I’m an idiot. I was in so much disbelief and that was the first thing that came out of my mouth.” He sullenly huffs.

You don’t reply, sniffling with your head down.

“For like a second, I had everything I wanted. Then you took it back and it was like my whole world had been ripped out from under me. In those five seconds, you’d given me a taste of what I’d spent four years convincing myself I couldn’t have and I just– I couldn’t go back after that.” He adds after a stillness.

After a short while, your focus shifts from your hands to the board in front of you. The game’s been long forgotten. You’re immersed in the conversation, in spite of how strenuous it is.

“I understand why you were distant, even mean, at first.” You snivel. “But after a while you just became downright cruel.”

Spencer doesn’t shy away from your gaze when you do look at him. His skin is as drenched from crying as yours is.

“I mean ‘I don’t want to see your face’? I know that I don’t really have a leg to stand on anymore, but, what the fuck Spencer?”

He doesn’t cringe any less with every reminder. He’s truly regretted the words since they left his mouth.

“I wanted to hurt you.” He reveals. “I thought you were being deliberately cruel and I wanted you to feel exactly how I was feeling.”

“Deliberately?”

He nods, hanging his head.

“I thought that you knew how I felt and were just trying to be funny or something.”

“Well I didn’t. I wasn’t.” You cut him off with a constricted voice.

“Even if you did, it’s not an excuse.” His eyes are glistening from the outpour of tears, but he still lifts his sights back to you. “I’m sorry.”

You don’t know how to acknowledge his apology at all. You’re not even angry anymore, all you feel is sorrow and regret for the way everything happened. An entire friendship down the drain due to an unfortunate set of circumstances.

“This is so fucked up.” You say with another mordant laugh. “All of this could have been avoided if we just talked about it.”

It stung less when you had somebody to blame for it. Your vision blurs and you make no effort to clear it, letting yourself cry openly.

“We’re talking about it now?” It’s almost a squeak, the way it’s spoken.

“Yeah, but,” your shoulders slump, defeatedly, and you have to pause to control your sob, “what good does it do now? I’ve already lost the best thing that’s ever happened to me in the most pathetic way possible.”

“I’m right here.” He counters in such a small voice that it gives your goosebumps.

“Spencer, too many things have been said…”

“When you first joined the team, I instantly knew I liked you.”

He chews on his lip and darts his eyes around while he contemplates if he wants to continue.

“I thought it was because of your kind nature. You were so sweet to everybody.” He decides he does, but his voice shakes throughout. “You have this gift…you make people feel so good about themselves. Whenever you spoke to me, I felt like the most important person in the world. It was impossible not to like you.”

You want to pretend like you don’t know where he’s going with this. You want to stop him, but your voice is stuck in your throat.

“It wasn’t until you bought me coffee for the first time that I realised just how much I liked you.” He chuckles again, as he reminisces in the memory. “You didn’t even get my order right until the fourth time, but it was still my favourite cup of the day.”

“You make me sound like a saint.” You finally choke out, attempting to play down the confession so it doesn’t crush your heart. “The only reason I even started bringing you coffee is because you learned how I like my coffee first.”

“Not a saint, an angel. I’ve fallen so deeply in love with you that there are times where it genuinely feels like I’m in the presence of an angel.”

It’s stated with such sincerity that it knocks the wind out of your pipes. Your eyes are widened and you’re biting your tongue with your mouth closed, staring at him with your chin tucked. He seems so confident, even with the glistening from previous tears in his eyes.

“I wanted to be in your life in any way you would have me. Even when it meant that I had to accept you with other people. And it was bearable, until…” His reminiscence only ends at the memory of the night that changed everything. “Like I said, I couldn’t go back.”

The last part fades into another whisper, only then do you find the courage to speak up.

“Exactly.” You stick to your denial. “It can’t go back to how it was before.”

Your heart is so sure of what it wants, but your head is blinded by fear. You’re at a crossroads, except one path, the path that leads to everything you long for, is clouded with a fog of uncertainty. The other path is so painfully clear, you can practically see what’s on the other side. A fresh start, where the risk of fucking up further doesn’t exist. What you don’t see is Spencer.

“Good. I don’t want it to go back to how it was.”

Spencer’s waiting for you to enter the fog. He’s going to be there holding your hand every step of the way.

“I’ve already handed in my resignation.”

“That matters less than everything you’ve claimed doesn’t matter.” He leans in, intensifying his eye contact.

“I’m pretty sure Hotch is really close to confirming my replacement.” You comment half-heartedly.

You’re trying anything to dissuade both him and yourself from acknowledging the obvious, but he doesn’t plan on letting you avoid it.

“I love you.” He whispers softly.

“Spencer…” You begin when he takes hold of your hands and whatever you had to say disappears from your tongue.

“I love you. With every atom that makes up my body.” He repeats himself with further elaboration to instil it in your mind.

“I’m scared.” You whisper back with a sob, finally accepting it.

“Why?” His voice can’t be any softer, but it still cracks a little.

“Because, you can’t guarantee that it’s going to end well.” You allow your vulnerability to peek through. “And that’s going to hurt more. I’d rather leave now than fall deeper.”

Although you didn’t say it back, it’s an indirect admission that you love him too. And it’s enough for him to fight harder.

“I know that my credibility isn’t the greatest,” he coaxes a small, sad scoff out of you, “but I truly believe that this, us, we’ll work. Because I know that I’m going to do everything I can to make this work.”

He feels bolder when you don’t pull away from his touch, folding your fingers into your palms and cupping over them. You observe the sight as it unfolds in lieu of a verbal response.

“I’ve spent four years judging any man that comes into your life, wishing I was in their place, swearing I would treat you better than all of them.”

Spencer feels the need to fill in the silence and he lets honesty guide his confession. He leans in further as if he’s indulging his deepest secret.

“Four years wasted wondering what could be, cursing out those idiots, but taking no action to make it happen. And that makes me the biggest idiot out of all of them.”

When he speaks like this, with his big, imploring eyes and prayerful tone, it melts your heart to a point where it almost hurts. The more he talks, the more you begin to lean in, opening yourself up to him.

“It took losing you to realise how badly I fucked up and for that I will never forgive myself. I know that I have no right to ask you to waste any more time on me…”

There’s no more resistance against the pull you both physically feel to each other.

“...but I’m begging you for a chance to do today what I should have done way before yesterday.”

Your faces grow closer by the second, you can feel each other's breaths against skin.

“And I’m going to spend every tomorrow proving what I said today.”

The likelihood of him changing your mind with one conversation wasn’t very high, both you and Spencer knew this when you got into it. You’re not entirely surprised when he somehow manages to overcome those odds too. You take the step to close the gap and lightly press your lips to his.

It starts off soft, there’s no lust, no ulterior motive behind it. It’s a simple confirmation that you’re both present and this is real. Spencer doesn’t shy away from the kiss, not that you’d call this a kiss. It feels more intimate, more unguarded.

Spencer pulls you onto his lap as he shifts and leans back against the backrest to allow more room for you. You wrap your arms around him and the kiss deepens. In the midst of you straddling him, he slides the entire chess board off the couch and the pieces scatter on the floor. It’s only when you feel that the kiss can’t bring you any closer to him does the lust emerge. It fuels a desire to prove that you both whole-heartedly belong to each other.

There’s no pinpointing when the switch happens. All you know is that the feeling of his lips against yours is no longer enough. You cup his jaw in your hands, swiping your tongue on his lower lip and it causes his grip on your waist to tighten. He parts his lips for you and it starts what you can only call a dance with your tongues.

Your breathing grows hotter, your hips subconsciously grind against him. There’s a prominent bulge that brushes against your heat and you whine into his mouth. Spencer grunts your name in response and then abruptly pulls away.

“Wait, wait, wait, slow down.” He breathlessly whispers against your lips.

“What?” You whisper back with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He gazes into your eyes, afraid that you might regret this later.

“I’ve never been more sure, actually.” You’re confident at first but the look in his eyes makes you pull back further. “Unless…you’re not sure?”

“No, don’t misunderstand me. I want you.” His tone rises just above the previous whisper with his clarification. “It’s just that the last thing I want to do is take advantage of you when our emotions are running high.”

“Four years, Spencer.” You lean in again, just brushing your lips against his. “The only reason you should be making me wait is if you’re not sure.”

He shuts that idea down by crashing his lips on yours. The kiss is so hungry, so desperate, it’s everything both of you have longed for and denied yourselves everytime you’ve been in each other's presence. It doesn’t take long for hands to start to roam. He traces the curve from your waist to your hips, stopping just at the hem of your shirt, tugging it like he’s asking for permission.

You rush to undo your buttons and he meets you halfway, starting at the bottom. His fingers brush against yours as you two reach the final button and you pull the fabric off yourself. You do the same with his shirt, lips remaining locked, except for the small gasps of air you take in between. It requires a bit more manoeuvring with him, but you’re both soon shirtless.

His mouth travels to your jaw and you shut your eyes from pleasure as he continues down to your neck. The stubble on his chin tickles your skin. You cup it, gently pushing him away with a giggle.

“Forget to pack a razor in your bag, Dr. Reid?” Your voice is teasing, more playful than seductive.

He chuckles, airily, hiding his groan. He knows you’re being sarcastic, but the use of his title, with your voice in this context, catches him off guard. You moan as you feel his growing bulge against your heat when his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you into his kiss. You swiftly undo the clasp of your bra, but before you can take it off, Spencer grabs you from just below the hips and lifts you up off him, gently laying you down on the seat of the couch.

There’s no room for hesitation as his lips find your neck again and he nips at the skin. Every suckle earns him short gasps and the grip in his hair tightens as he travels lower. He stops just above your breast, pulling himself up to sit on his knees. You stare up at him with a heated gaze, the nail of your thumb resting between your teeth with your lips parted to make up for the loss of his lips.

He reaches for your bra strap and begins pulling slowly, searching your eyes for any signs of you withdrawing consent. All he sees is how beautifully they sparkle when you give him a light nod. It’s been too long since he’s seen the stars that you hold in your eyes, stars he accustomed himself to before he even got to properly know you.

Gazing into his eyes, you’ve never felt more sure, more safe. You trust him implicitly and you’ve never wanted anything more. His constant need to make sure you're comfortable sends shivers down to your core. He slides the garment off you and Spencer’s beyond grateful that he’s already on his knees, knowing that if he was standing he’d fall to them because of the sight below him.

His eyes don’t falter once, he’s trying to permanently etch this moment into his brain. He hovers his fingers above your body, thumb brushing against your hardened nipple and you softly whine. He looks awestruck, almost like he doesn’t believe what’s happening. You can’t help but wonder if he thinks your boobs look weird.

“Beautiful.” The words fall out of his mouth in a whisper, as if on cue. He’s really just thinking out loud.

Before you can respond he lowers down and plants a small peck to your sensitive nub before taking it into his mouth. You gasp again, head lolling back in pleasure. One of your hands goes for his hair, while the other clings to his hand that’s already holding yours. He switches between sucking, pulling and squeezing; rolling it between his tongue and uses his teeth to squeeze ever so slightly.

“S–spencer.” A strangled moan falls from your lips.

You tug his hair, whining and moaning as your hips roll against the strain in his pants. When your motions become continuous, he lets out his own strained groan and is forced to release your nipple with a small ‘pop’.

“Angel, I really need you to stop doing that.” He murmurs in your ear with a gentle, gravelly tone.

As soon as the nickname reaches your ears your hips involuntarily buck up again, making his hips automatically push down against yours. His cock presses against your core and you both moan, his head falling against your shoulder.

“Spence, more.” You quietly whine in against his ear. “I need more.”

“More?” He echoes back, turning his head so that your lips brush past each other when speaking.

“Mhm.” You nod weakly as he brushes a strand of hair out of your face and weakly connects his lips with yours.

Even when he’s got you vulnerable and at your most compromised, he’s still as gentle as ever. You don’t feel him undo your pants or sneak his hand in them, but you definitely feel him press the pads of his fingers against your clothed clit. Air escapes through your nose in a huff of surprise and you hum in his mouth, hips jolting at his touch. He can feel your slickness through your underwear.

“Oh, my pretty girl.” He sighs, breaking the kiss and directing his whispers in your ear again. “All wet for me?”

“Please..” Even with your broken whimper you beg him for more.

“Like this?” His deft fingers swipe your panties to the side, fingers landing directly on the clit this time.

They feel cold at first. The contrast against your heated body makes you squirm and you groan in a soft, high pitch.

“What are you feeling right now?” He pries a verbal response from you, circling your bud lightly. “Tell me.”

“Good.” You sigh, eyes shut as you try to savour the pleasure.

“Good?” His voice is still soft against your ear.

“Mhm.” You nod, one arm draping against his shoulder and the other hand running along his scruffy jaw. “So good.”

“And this?” He adds pressure to his movements. “Does this feel good?”

Your hips buck again and he feels rewarded when you moan. There’s no doubt that the sound of your voice is his favourite. He especially loves it when it’s directed at him. Whether that be in the form of a laugh or your sweet moans. It makes him somewhat dizzy. His lips attach to the skin just under your jaw in an attempt to coax more.

It’s very effective. Fingers working your bundle of nerves, circling and flicking while changing the pressure, and mouth kissing and sucking near your pulse. It makes your back arch, hand gripping his shoulder so you don’t float away. He’s careful not to leave any purple traces of him on your neck, mindful of you being bombarded with questions from your colleagues.

“I love how reactive you are, Angel. You sound divine– fuck.” He can’t help the grunt that escapes him. “You are divine.”

His touch alone is enough to make you feel electric, but the sweet nothings he’s whispering in your ear will be what send you over the edge. It’s a foreign feeling, being reminded that he values you for more than just your body. Just under an hour ago you had incredibly high walls built around you and none of them are left standing as you exposed under him.

Spencer’s not the first man to touch you, but he is the first that loves you. It’s something you’re not at all used to and it feels as overwhelming as it does good. It transcends the want, no, the need for the man on top of you beyond lust or love. You plan to show him just how strong that need is tonight.

The carpeted floor is littered with your clothes, carelessly thrown around and tiny chess pieces scattered around the abandoned chess board. Spencer’s comfortably lying on the couch, facing the ceiling and you’re lying directly on top of him with your face buried in his neck.

You run your fingers back and forth along his jaw, scratching his beard in slow streaks. He’s enveloped you in his arms, one around your lower back and the other playing with your hair. It doesn’t feel as peaceful as it seems, both of you are afraid of being the first to speak. You know you can’t stay like this forever and you decide to bite the bullet.

“Spencer?”

You only get silence from his end. You know he’s awake because his motions in your hair don’t stop. You push yourself up to face him, trying to study his face. The sudden movement brings him back from wherever he was zoned out to.

“Hm?” His features jump.

Does he regret it?

“What’s wrong?” Your voice shakes from worry. “You have this look on your face.”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just thinking.”

“About…?”

“How bad we are at communicating.” He chuckles. “It’s concerning when you think about how all we ever do is talk.”

Hearing this makes you snort and you fall into him again. It sends both of you into a short fit of laughter.

“Oh that’s promising for the success of this relationship.” You giggle, sarcasm evident.

Hearing relationship makes Spencer inhale sharply.

“So you’re staying?”

“Well obviously, Dingbat.” You scoff playfully at the question and shift upright, straddling him. “But we really do need to get better at the communication thing for this to work.”

Spencer mounts his weight on his hands by either side of him and pushes himself up to you, stealing a deep kiss.

“Yes, we absolutely do.” He whispers, breaking away for only a second.

The kisses fizzle in you a plethora of smaller kisses.

“Spencer, I’m– serious.” You voice in between, loosely draping your arms on his shoulders.

“I am too.” He says in a hushed tone as he pulls away.

“I want to take it– this,” you motion between the two of you with your finger, “us, slow. Not four years slow, but, like, by a couple of months at the very least.”

“Okay.” He agrees, his eyes scouring your face with complete adoration. It’s not ideal, but he understands where you’re coming from.

“That means that we start again. Romantically. We have to talk about a lot of things first.”

He shifts his body out from under you, resting his back properly against the couch and pulls you back into his lap in one swift motion. Both of his hands graze from your shoulder to your wrist.

“How about…you come over this weekend,” He suggests, wrapping his arms around your waist for a hug, “we’ll do snacks, a movie, maybe an actual game of chess.”

“That sounds like a date.” You wrap your arms around his neck to return the gesture and lean your forehead against his.

“It’s not a date. Not yet, anyways.” He whispers. “I’m asking you to come over this weekend so we can talk about things properly, because frankly, I don’t think either of us is in the right headspace for it right now.”

“Should I be offended at that?” You giggle, not entirely sure what he’s alluding to.

“No!” He snorts with a high tone. “Dopamine aside, our Norepinephrine and Serotonin levels are too high right now for us to have a proper conversation about this.”

“I’m not saying that you’re wrong, because you’re not, but I also think you’re just using science to try and confuse me, so that I agree to wherever this speech is heading.”

“It’s times like this where your attentiveness puts me at a disadvantage, because this tactic has a hundred percent success rate on everybody else.” He grins and you chuckle, both leaning in for another kiss.

“Can we hold off on starting over? Just for tonight.” He reluctantly voices, not wanting to push any boundaries.

You draw back and raise your eyebrows with your eyes widened.

“Spence, I have waited for years for this. You’re insane if you think I’m giving that up without relishing in it for at least a night. We’re not starting over until we’re both officially back on the clock.”

“Okay.” He heaves from relief, leaning in for another kiss, but quickly withdraws with a new question. “Don’t you think the team’s going to be suspicious when we’re not fighting tomorrow?”

“Forget them, what am I gonna say to Hotch when I ask to withdraw my resignation?” You huff out a tiny groan. “He’s gonna hate me for all this paperwork.”

Paperwork reminds you why you’re here to begin with. You audibly gasp, jumping off Spencer and scrambling to put your clothes back on.

“Fuck! Spencer, get dressed!”

Spencer doesn’t share your panic, but adheres to your demand. You mutter a continuous line of obscenities as you throw on your clothes and when you don’t seem to be getting calmer, he intervenes.

“Hey, hey, hey!” He coos as he steps towards you, still undressed on the upper-half. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that we’ve been here for hours!” You shriek, now fully dressed.

You push past Spencer and grab his shirt, deciding that he was too slow on his own. He lets you dress him as he probes further.

“That’s okay. No one’s going to notice this late.”

“No– Spence–” You sigh, throwing your head back. “In less than four hours, Hotch is going to walk into his office expecting the Anchorage report on his desk. I’ve barely been able to get half of it done in weeks, how am I going to finish it in four hours?”

You shake your head and begin working on his buttons. He grabs your wrists, urging you to look at him.

“You’ll have it done in less than one. I’ll help you!” His voice is light, airy, soft and accompanied with a chuckle.

“Spencer, you’ve already been here later than you need to be. It’s okay–”

“Let me help you.” He resorts to pleading, releasing your wrists and cupping your face.

You don’t have it in you to argue, his eyes staring back at you with sincerity. He wants to help. There’s no point in pushing him away, because as scared as you are about being too vulnerable with your trauma from that case, you trust him wholeheartedly. You know he won’t push for more than what you choose to share right now.

“Okay.” You nod and smile into the kiss he leans in for after the confirmation.

“Okay. Now, you go and start some coffee.” he instructs softly with a wide grin, waving to the scattered chess ensemble. “ I’m going to clean up here and join you.”

“I love you!” You lean for another kiss and hushedly exclaim as you break away, receding towards the door.

It’s Spencer’s turn to lose his breath. He’s affirmed his love for you countless times tonight and this is the first time you’ve verbally reciprocated it. He knows that it won’t be the last time either. That, to him, makes him the luckiest man in the world. He stops you from going any further by your arm and gently yanks you in his direction, crashing his lips with yours.

“I love you too.” He whispers after the kiss, letting you go.

Heat rises in your face again and you struggle to hide a huge dopey smile, one that Spencer has too. You’re floating on cloud nine, finally out of the blurry hurricane you’ve endured for months. There’s still a lot of things that you need to work out, but the thought of them doesn’t make you feel dread like it once did.

"One word frees us of all the weight and pain in life. That word is Love." - Socrates

Spoilers: Yapperoni (so much dialog in this chapter), BAU! Reader, enemies (kinda) to lovers, hurt, comfort, love confessions (they might be a little too sappy, idk, I was sleep deprived), the praise made me giddy at some point, smut but I edge you by not writing out everything, happy ending.

AN - I have a little tiny fear that people (me) will nawt (I don’t) fuck with this monstrosity, but out of all my drafts, this felt like the most natural course of action. I thought it would be really fun to go from friends to enemies to lovers. Now, literally nobody talk to me about writing fics after this. Uni’s started, so I’ll be very inconsistent for a bit. Casual reminder: I am not Spencer Reid. I don’t have an IQ of 187. Any facts I make him spew could very well be bull-shit and he only spews them for the purpose of the story. I also have no knowledge of how the FBI works and lack a ton of common sense. A lot of things were made up for the purpose of this story.

A comment today keeps semicolon away (from showing up to your house and eating all your snacks).

Thank you for reading!

1K notes · View notes

bueckers · 5 months ago

Text

UNFINISHED BUSINESS ━━━ paige bueckers

i don’t wanna fight, but you got the wrong vibes. let me get you right, it’s how i apologize. ✶

synopsis: she broke it off, but has since had a hard time leaving her alone… especially when having to see her in person.

pairing: paige bueckers x fem oc

warnings: smut with plot, p eating ( p is literally EATING ), fingering, thigh riding, and slight angst.

notes: this is ridiculously long. in honor of her fit here, enjoy.. i loved writing this almost as much as i love the song lol. lmk if i should make a part two or maybe a series!

Nervous, excited, and borderline bald from tugging at my hair—these were all the things I had felt the moment I stepped into the WNBA 2024 All-Star Game.

I would be seeing Paige tonight. Paige would be seeing me tonight. Paige knew I knew she would be seeing me tonight, and I knew Paige knew she would be seeing me tonight.

When Paige and I first started hooking up, it was never supposed to be anything serious. She was sidelined with a torn ACL, and I knew she was in a dark place, struggling with everything that came with being forced off the court. I think that’s why it started, honestly. She needed an escape, something to make her forget for a little while, and I was there.

Paige and I have known of each other for years, though. We both came up in the basketball world at the same time, our names being tossed around in the same circles since high school. We’d cross paths at AAU tournaments and national showcases, always on different teams but always aware of each other.

Back then, our support for each other was more from a distance, and it wasn’t until college that things started to shift. We crossed paths more often, whether it was at games, media events. The rivalry between our schools added a new layer to our interactions, but by then, we had leveled up from distant competitors to something more like casual friends.

Those moments were what led us to where we eventually ended up. The more we talked, the more we realized how much we actually had in common—our experiences, our struggles, the pressure to perform, and the constant scrutiny. It felt natural, easy, to let our guard down with each other, which is why when her injury happened and everything else in her life felt like it was falling apart, I wasn’t surprised when we fell into it.

We had an agreement. Not one that was ever talked about soberly, but the way it happened just fell into place so perfectly that we didn’t need to. We’d meet up when it was needed, no commitments, no expectations. Just two people finding comfort in each other, filling a void that we couldn’t fill on our own. It was convenient, effortless, and most importantly, it worked for the both of us. I guess I figured if I kept things casual, I wouldn’t get caught up in something messy. I didn’t want to be the one to complicate her life even more.

We’d cross paths after games, during off-season, or whenever our schedules aligned, slipping into each other’s lives for a few hours at a time. She knew how to keep me at arm’s length, just close enough to keep me coming back but far enough to never let me in too deep. She knew exactly how to make me feel needed without ever giving too much of herself away. It was maddening, really—how she could be so vulnerable one minute, showing me sides of herself that no one else got to see, and then switch off just as quickly.

The more we hooked up, the more I started to realize I was getting too close. I could see it in the way she’d look at me sometimes, like she knew I was starting to care too much. And the worst part was, she didn’t seem to mind pushing me right to that edge. She’d say something that made my heart race, or she’d touch me in a way that felt like it meant something, only to pull back and remind me of our status. She was always in control, always the one with the upper hand, and I hated how easily I let her have it.

And then it was all done. She cut things off with a cold finality that I still can’t even believe. No explanation, no soft letdown—just a sudden, brutal end. It was like she knew exactly when I’d reached that point and she didn’t hesitate to remind me that it was never supposed to mean anything at all.

“I’m gonna go grab some snacks, alright? Try to look a little more happy for the jumbotron,” JuJu teases, getting up from her seat. I gasped, barely having any time to process her insult as she scooted between me to get to the stadium stairs.

“Very funny,” I muttered, watching her walk away.

Alone now, I focused on the game, doing an extremely good job at hiding the gnawing in my chest. I’d say I have a good poker face, but Paige would agree to disagree. My phone buzzed, jolting me from my thoughts. It was her and she’d finally found you. She was on the other side of the arena, clearly getting a kick out of having you in her view.

you mad at me or just deep in thought?

I rolled my eyes back to the deep depths of hell. Another text from her.

you look good tonight

you too. how’s the game?

As soon as I hit send, I regret it. I should have ignored her. I should have said something snarky.

Her reply comes almost immediately.

could be better. thought about coming over

what stopped you?

You watched her text bubble practically stutter, making you quirk an eyebrow.

juju. i didn’t wanna make it awkward.

lol. okay.

actually, scratch that. leave w me.

I shifted in my seat, my hands suddenly clutching my phone a little tighter.

paige, no.

why not?

I shut off my phone just in time for JuJu’s return, watching as she squeezed through mounds of people to get back to me. She handed me a cherry slurpee, which would however be gone in ten minutes.

“Thanks, sugar,” you teased her, wrapping your lips around the straw and taking a nice, long sip. She shook her head at me as she focused on the game again, nachos in hand. Ping.

Tell her don’t get too comfortable 😂

I could even feel her eyes boring into me from the other side. I could picture the stupid smirk or gummy smile she’d have. I turned my ringer off and silenced Paige’s notifications before slipping my phone into my back pocket and reverting my attention back to the game. It’s almost over.

Fast forward to the final buzzer, and Juju and I made our way down to the court, weaving through the crowd of fans and players. I always loved the energy in a room of women’s basketball players and fans— there were always a million things going on at once. As we reached the court, we spotted Caitlin, who was already deep in conversation with a couple of other players.

“Great game, Cait,” I said, pulling her into a light hug. “Guess nobody busts your butt as good as SC, huh?” I pulled back first, resting my hands on my hips. I could say I’ve known Caitlin as long as I have Paige, but Cait doesn’t know me the way Paige does.

Caitlin laughed, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, yeah, Miss Championship. but don’t get too cocky now.”

Juju laughed alongside me, adding a quick comment about how USC would give her a run for her money next time. The conversation flowed easily, a mix of post-game analysis and friendly banter. I scanned the court for a brief moment, knowing exactly who I was looking for.

Sure enough, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Flau’jae and Paige making their way over. I braced myself, knowing the cameras would be all over this reunion, and the media would have a field day with it. Paige looked as confident as ever, her stride always one that grabbed attention.

“Hey, y’all,” Paige said, her voice smooth, effortless. She exchanged hugs and high-fives with everyone, her presence commanding attention as always. When she reached me, she didn’t hesitate to pull me into a hug, her hand resting on my hip before snaking around to my lower back.

And then I felt it—her hand slipping lower, fingers grazing the fabric of my mini skirt. I could hear the smirk in her voice as she leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. “Good to see you.” Just close enough to keep me coming back.

I pulled back slightly, meeting her eyes. There was that smirk. My heart was pounding, a mix of frustration and something else I didn’t want to acknowledge. “You too,” I managed, keeping my tone as neutral as possible, pulling back with a tight-lipped grin that looked friendly enough to anyone who didn’t know what was going on. Which was everyone.

The group continued chatting, oblivious, obviously. You’d found out the one thing you hated about being around Paige was the overwhelming current of being the only ones in the room who knew how each other was feeling. Paige, ever the actor, kept up her usual easygoing demeanor, but I could feel her gaze on me, like she was waiting for something. I tried to focus on the conversation, but it was impossible with her so close, the warmth of her hand still lingering on my skin.

When the small talk finally wound down, and the others started drifting away, Paige moved closer, her eyes locked on mine. She leaned in again, her voice low, almost a whisper. “C’mon. Meet me,” she coaxed, her breath warm against my ear. Her fingers brushed lightly against my side, tracing a path.

I hesitated, the resolve I’d built up over the past hour crumbling under the weight of her presence. She was testing me, pushing every button she knew she could. And damn it, it was working.

I finally nodded, barely audible. “Okay.”

It was all she needed. A single, one-word confirmation that I wanted her as bad as she does. She took my phone out of my pocket for me, placing it my hand as she said her goodbyes to everyone else, leaving me there. I suppose it was smarter for her to do that anyway.

Shortly after Paige’s departure, I made my way out as well. JuJu wasn’t a tough barrier to get past. I told her to finish up her conversations, and that I’d see her back at the hotel. I wasn’t quite show how long my excuse would suffice, but I hoped she’d find her way to the bar or something after.

I don’t know why I listened. Watched my fingers click on her contact and give the driver her hotel’s address. It was like I was compelled from the moment she’d touched me, and to be honest, I don’t think I’d be surprised if that was the case.

The Uber ride felt interminable, each passing moment only heightening the anticipation and anxiety. I could barely focus on the city lights flashing by outside, my mind consumed with the impending confrontation and whatever would follow.

Finally, I was able to make my way to her room, feeling the cool air of the hallway against my skin as I knocked on the door. When Paige answered, her smile was as infuriatingly charming as ever, and she pulled me inside with a warm, yet testing glint in her eye.

The moment the door clicked shut behind us, Paige’s demeanor shifted. Before I could voice any protest, her lips were on mine, kissing me with an urgency that made my heart race. I barely had time to process the sudden change before she deepened the kiss, her hands roaming possessively over my back.

I tried to pull away, my mind still reeling from the fact that I was even here, but her grip tightened, pulling me closer. “Paige,” I murmured against her lips, trying to catch my breath. “We need to talk—” but as much as I tried to voice it, I knew that isn’t what we both really planned to do.

She silenced me with another intense kiss, her fingers tangling in my hair, guiding my head to tilt for better access. Her touch was relentless, her body pressing against mine with all the need in her body. “I don’t wanna fight,” she whispered between kisses, her breath hot and heavy against my skin. “Jus’ wanna be close to you.” She breathed in my scent, and I melted.

The words were almost lost in the heated moment, but I could feel the sincerity. She pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, her gaze smoldering with an intensity that made me rethink actually standing on business. She waited, trying to see if I was really against this. I licked my lips, glancing at hers.

I didn’t stand a chance.

Her lips found mine again, and the world narrowed to the press of our bodies. Our kisses were feverish and desperate, each touch holding some type of meaning. Paige’s hands roamed over my skin like there were so many options in a candy store and she couldn’t pick just one. In this case, one spot to focus on. Her mouth trailed down my collarbone, leaving a path of pinkish marks.

Our bodies were pressed together and refusing to let go. Paige guided me towards the bed, her hands never leaving my body, her lips continuing their assault on my skin. When she finally lowered me onto the bed, I was needy and breathless and finally feeling a little more realistic.

“P, I’m still mad,” I tried to insist, though my voice wavered as I watched her begin to undress. She unzipped her Nike vest slowly, the sound of the fabric sliding down her body making my pulse quicken. It fell to the floor, and she ripped off her shirt with a sudden, breathless intensity, revealing her sports bra. The sight of her, partially unclothed and vulnerable in front of me again left me speechless.

“I know,” she murmurs, her head slightly tilted as she looked at me all-knowingly. “And ima’ make it up to you, I promise. Just let me get you right.” Her fingers trailed up my bare legs, eliciting a small gasp from my lips. She tugged at the hem of my skirt, pulling the fabric down and grabbing my panties in the process. I watched her do it, in utter disbelief that this was how I was spending my night.

Her fingers graze teasingly against my kneecaps, sending shivers through my body, before she gently but firmly peels my legs apart. I look down at her. “You’re just trying to distract me,” I say, but there’s no heat behind the words.

Paige smirks, a knowing look in her eyes as she falls to her knees, her hands sliding over my thighs. “Maybe,” she admits, her voice dropping into a low, sultry tone as she tucks her lip between her teeth. “But you can’t say you don’t want this too.”

She’s right, and we both know it. The way she’s touching me, the way her eyes are locked onto mine with that look. The same one that knows she’s getting her way tonight. My worries seem so distant now, nothing more than a whisper of irritation in the back of my mind, easily drowned out by the way Paige’s hands are moving.

I begin to say something, but she easily cuts me off by diving into me with no warning, immediately humming against my cunt in satisfaction. Her eyebrows were furrowed as her tongue made some deliberate strokes, seemingly in disbelief of the way I tasted. She looks up at me as she delves in, a sight beautiful enough for the Louvre but way too sinful.

She says something I can’t hear, but I do catch a, “Can’t leave you alone, ever. Fuck.”

“Yeah?” I muster out, my breath a careless whisper.

Paige smiles against me, loving the cocky tone in my voice as she responds with a fast nod, the movement making me gasp. “Yeah.”

From there, every moan and gasp from me seems to fuel her desire, making her work even harder to drive me wild. Her hands grip my hips firmly, keeping me in place as her mouth and tongue continue their relentless assault. In the haze of ecstasy, all I can focus on is the feeling of her between my legs, making good on her promise to get me right, leaving me utterly consumed by the pleasure she’s giving.

I come, loud enough that the neighbors might know Paige’s name, but she keeps going. It becomes too much, enough for me to whine and pull away, scooting a little bit higher on the bed. She isn’t going for it, though, and immediately brings me back to her mouth, wrapping my legs in her thick arms.

“Where you tryna’ go, princess?” she teases. The sensation of her mouth and fingers on me is so intoxicating that I can barely respond before she pulls back entirely, rising to her feet. She begins to peel off her pants, her movements slow, leaving me breathless and frustrated.

“Seriously?” I complain.

“Chill,” she responds with a husky chuckle, towering over me in the sexiest way explainable. It’s like she contemplates something in her head for a moment, leaving me dripping wet and needy before her.

Finally, Paige steps closer, her hands sliding down to her sports bra. With a teasing glance, she pulls it off, revealing her bare chest. My eyes widen as I take in her form, unable to tear my gaze away. She then sits back down, positioning herself comfortably on the edge of the bed. “Want you to get on my thigh, baby, m’kay?” And there was no room for argument.

I crawl toward her, a mixture of urgency and anticipation in my movements. Once I’m seated on her thigh, I start to ride it slowly, the friction sending waves of pleasure through me. I truly can’t believe we haven’t done this before. The way she flexes, the way I can feel her muscle.. it’s all too much.

I roll my head back, needing more. My hands find Paige’s boxers, slipping into them with ease as she watches, her eyes moving more than her actual head. My fingers find their way to her core, exploring.

Paige’s breath hitches, her fingers gripping my hip as she watches me intently. “You like that, don’t you?” she breathes, her voice filled with a mixture of desire and all things Paige. “You’ve got me exactly where you want me.”

I stare at her. My body and arm moving repeatedly, my hair a bit puffy at this rate, and a panting mess. Paige raises her thumb to my plump and parted lips, slipping it in. I moan out, forced to suck around it as I squeeze my eyes shut.

Paige is in a trance, completely focused on the warmth around her thumb and how your small fingers disappear into her. “So, so, so good. Love seeing you above me, baby. So pretty.” I couldn’t understand how she could say things like these, and happen to not mean them, but it was the last thing on my mind.

“Mfmfmm, I’m gonna come. Again.”

Paige’s response is a series of breathy moans, her hands gripping my hips tightly as she keeps me pressed down, every thrust and touch pushing us both closer to the edge.

As she finally shudders, her release crashes over her like a tidal wave, her body trembling violently. The sensation of her coming around my fingers makes my own climax come shortly after. I cry out, my own pleasure peaking as I grind against her, my fingers thrusting in and out.

Our combined releases feel explosive, a storm of heat and passion that has us both gasping and moaning. I feel her tremors against my fingers as I continue to move, riding out the last waves of ecstasy before finally collapsing against her, both of us spent and tangled together in a sated, sweaty mess.

I think I’ll regret this in the morning. But right now? I’ve never been happier.

#bueckers’ works 🍒#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #lgbtq #Spotify

1K notes · View notes

motherismotheringggg · 2 months ago

Text

SLOW BURN

okay wow my first public fic — i’m terrified so pls be kind but feedback is OF COURSE welcome!!

type: female reader x nicholas chaves x cooper koch

(^this is the greed they talked about in the bible 🤭)

tags/warnings: 18+; nsfw; smut lite; kissing; fingering; groping (i think that’s it!!)

word count: 7317 (i was gonna post it in parts but i changed my mind)

*used AI to help organize structure

pt.2 out now!!!!

pt.3 out now!!!!

⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️⛺️

You and your friend Vanessa laughed as you walked into the cafeteria of Camp White Water from a joke that had you both laughing since you both got ready and started heading toward the first day of camp counselor training.

This was your second summer of being a camp counselor at this month-and-a-half long sleep away camp. And you always looked forward to it, the leadership staff was always kind, the campers were actually not too bad and the other counselors were your favorite. All of the returners had become super close and it was super exciting to be reconnected with them when summer rolled around.

This year there were a few new counselors because of the amount of campers that were coming in this summer, particularly in your group. That being said, you were given two new co-counselors.

You and Vanessa were still in stitches about whatever joke had been continuing when you got closer to your assigned table, you noticed your name card with your name between two other name cards, one read “Nicholas Chaves” and the other “Cooper Koch”.

“Whoa..two news guys?” You were surprised, you expected to at least have another returner on your side, “Do they think I’m responsible enough to train two newbies?” you chuckled as you sat on the cafeteria bench.

“Well if they’re dumb and hot, send them over to the young eagles team, I’d love to have fresh meat”, Vanessa gestured to her table with Gene who was the oldest camp counselor and a bit of a gangly man who meant well but wasn’t exactly summer camp eye candy.

You both looked in his direction and giggled, “Hey Gene! You look ripped this summer. I’ll send her over to you in a second” you called out, causing Vanessa to laugh even harder.

As you both continued cackling in a room full of lively conversation, the group of new counselors walked in, it was tradition that the current counselors applaud them as a bit of a harmless hazing ritual.

You clapped and laughed with your friend as the newbies looked around excited but nervously for their name tags. In the middle of your giggling, you noticed two men stopped at your table and started settling in, “this must be them” you thought.

Copper was tall and broad. He had hazel brown eyes and deep brown curly hair. He was wearing a gray zip-up hoodie and tennis shorts and you could tell from his leg muscles that he was in good shape. He had soft features that made you feel immediately calm and at ease - safe almost.

Nicholas was the opposite, he had straight hair and darker eyes. His face was very chiseled, his jawline was impeccable. He had a defined and muscular physique, which stood out even when he’s dressed casually in his shorts and long sleeve college shirt.

He was also tall with broad shoulders but his muscles were more pronounced - a strong chest, and visible arm muscles that give him a commanding presence.

“Hey guys, I’m Y/N”! Cooper went for a handshake, which was too formal for you, without thinking you went in for a hug. You figured you’d get close through the summer like the rest of the counselors.

Cooper was caught off guard but quickly adjusted to the hug, Nicholas was a little reserved but even with just a side hug you felt his biceps take you in completely. They sat on either side of you and you started talking about your experience at the camp the group you’ll have this year.

The camp director gave some opening remarks and then the assistant director had you all start with those cringey ice breakers. He went around and gave out a stack of cards to each group that had random questions on it.

When he got your table, he said “Ah Y/N, happy to see you back again! Boys you’re in good hands, she’s a pro.” You playfully shooed him away to be humble. “I mean it, but you also have some star athletes next to you. Cooper and Nicholas were both finalists in the west end tennis conference and since you’re working on rec fit this year, it should be perfect!”

“Tennis boys huh?” you gestured to your co- counselors, “I knew those builds weren't for nothing” you jokingly nudged both of them in the side. Cooper giggled and you finally got Nick to crack a smile and loosen up.

The ice breakers were stupid but kind of fun and they opened up more conversation; “if you were a fruit, what fruit would you be?” turned into you three talking about your families, “what three things would you need on a deserted island” turned into talking about your favorite vacation spot and “what;s your morning routine” let the guys start to talk about their training which you found…hot. The way they describe conditioning and training completely hypnotized you, like you could understand it but just barely. And watching them interact was a real treat, Cooper was very funny and lighthearted but still very direct and expressive in his words. Nicholas was very sincere in everything and said it with such conviction, even if he was joking it came out so earnestly you thought he was being serious.

Later, for training you all got to wander the camp site as groups. The three of you found yourselves sitting on one of the picnic benches along the trail route, the ice was finally broken so the conversation flowed very casually.

It started to get a little warmer out, too warm for a hoodie so both you and Cooper took yours off. Cooper was wearing a tank top that revealed even more of his physique and you were wearing a stretchy tank top body suit. Realizing this was the first time they've seen your arms, they noticed you had a few tattoos and were both instantly intrigued. "You have tattoos?" Cooper asked, his voice more excited than you expected.

"Yeah, just a few!” You started pointing them out to Cooper while he walked around your body to get a closer look at each one. “I got this one with one of my friends, they are not quite matching but they’re similar” you went on.

Nicholas was also listening to you talk about your tattoos but he wasn’t as outwardly interested as Cooper was. He mostly just nodded in approval after you explained each tattoo. It wasn’t until you bent a certain way to show Cooper a different tattoo that your tennis skirt raised a little, revealing the very bottom of a tattoo on your thigh. "Is that… another one?" Nicholas asked, gesturing to your thigh, catching you off guard.

You blinked. "Oh, yeah," you replied, laughing lightly. "Good eye." You hadn’t expected him to notice that one—it was usually pretty hidden. But it wasn’t awkward and you were happy he actually spoke. “Yeah it’s just my zodiac constellation, I just thought it was cute, maybe a little stupid to get that tatted but I like it”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Nicholas replied, more confidently this time. Cooper nodded in agreement.

“In fact,” Nicholas stood up and took off his bookbag “As long as we’re showing off our sick ink…”. You and Cooper’s eyes widened, you had no idea what this man, who had been fairly silent this whole time, was about to show. He took off his shirt and revealed his perfect abs. They looked like they were chiseled from marble but also soft like flesh. You cleared your throat and gathered yourself. You glanced over at Cooper who was equally entranced by Nicholas’ body.

“What do you think?” Nicholas posed in front of you two and you both looked confused, “I thought we were just showing off tattoos, not seeing who’s built like an adonis” Cooper joked.

You laughed, “yeah, this is a summer camp so the chance to take off your shirt was coming soon enough” you added.

Nicholas laughed back, “no get closer, it’s there!” You and Cooper looked at each other and then got closer to his man’s perfect body and there it was, two small tattoos under both pecs, a smiley face and a frowny face.

‘Totally sick ink right?” Nicholas joked in a surfer voice, you and Cooper threw your heads back in laughter as you jokingly agreed. “It certainly is … ink on your skin,” Cooper added.

“They were stick-and-pokes I did in college just for fun, you can even feel the weird texture of them,” Nicholas said. Without missing a beat, he grabbed Cooper's hand and placed it on the small tattoo. You had to find a way to act normal about this but this was incredibly hot. Two gorgeous men essentially groping each other in the woods felt like something out of a fan fic.

Nicholas looked at you and said, “Don’t be shy, I don’t bite”, in a quiet gravely voice. You felt your shoulders drop and your eyes widened, internally you thought “what is happening right now??”

You used your finger tips to feel the tattoo but followed Cooper’s lead and also felt his chest too. Nicholas would glance down at you two feeling him with his breath hitching just a little. Cooper was into the moment, you were still taken aback. Before this moment could progress, the camp alarm blared calling us all back in for dinner.

For dinner, groups got to mix and mingle so you and Vanessa decided your groups should eat together. Dinner was fine, you were fine. It seemed odd that these two boys who were basically mute at the beginning of the day had this moment earlier with you and were now just so chill about it. But you were going to match their vibe and keep it lowkey.

After dinner, you were all texting and realized you wanted a sweet treat so you went off-site and ended up at this diner a few miles from the camp. You three sat in this round corner booth and just talked about each other.

It was getting progressively later and later in the night and you felt yourself getting tired. Cooper went to the bathroom before you all headed out and you instinctively rested your head on Nicholas’s shoulder. Completely forgetting what happened earlier and just needing a place to rest for a minute.

It took him no time to accommodate your needs and lift his arm up so you could properly get close. He pulled you close to his chest and rubbed your arm as you slightly drifted in his arms.

You all drove in your car there but Nicholas saw how tired you both were so he offered to drive. “Give daddy the keys” he gestured to you to throw them in his direction, “I’ll get us back safe”. You mentally noted that he called himself daddy and tossed him your keys. “You both should ride in the back seat because if you're up here yawning by me that could be dangerous”.

You and Cooper hopped in the back seat and again, you just wanted to lay down, so Cooper sat upright and you laid down with your head in his lap. He also wanted to make you feel comfortable so he started stroking your cheek and did that for the entire ride back to camp.

---

The next morning was Special Classes day, all the counselors would be in various groups to get trained on the specialized activities for the camp this summer. Swimming, archery, arts and crafts, home ec, etc., you were partnered with Nicholas in the swim group while Cooper took the archery class.

The sun beat down on the lake, making the water glisten. You all had been in and out of the water several times for various tests. Every time you glanced at Nick and noticed the way the water drops would sit in between the ridges of his abs you felt something electric in you.

“You all have done a fantastic job today,” the instructor addressed the group, “and we wrapped up earlier than I thought so that’s good. Feel free to go for a free swim or head out until your next activity.”

You and Nicholas non-verbally agreed to head out but not before the instructor asked you both to take some supplies to the first aid shed before you left out. You wrapped a towel around your body and Nicholas wheeled the cart of medical supplies.

When you got the shed, which was more of a small cottage, you held open the door while Nicholas wheeled the items in. He started putting them away while you just stood and watched. Watching the way his back muscles moved with every action, the way he towered next to the shelves and how broad he looked from the back.

He turned to see you checking him out and chuckled to himself, “do you mind helping me out a little?” a smirk brandishing on his face.

You didn’t hear what he asked you when you were in your trance so he chuckled again, a little louder this time, “they’re getting lower in the wagon, could you hand them to me?” he asked again.

“Oh my bad – yeah of course! Sorry, I was just thinking about dinner or something” you tried to cover your tracks in the worst way possible, “or ‘something’ is right” he retorted back, you felt your face get hot.

When you were finished putting the boxes away, you wheeled the cart to where the other storage containers were and joined him back in the main room. The shed was so warm so neither one of you wanted to leave. Nick went to sit down in a chair by the desk in the room. There were papers on top of the chair he went to move but when he picked them up he got a paper cut.

“Shit,” he hissed “oh my god” your eyes widened. It wasn’t a lot of blood but you could yell it hurt because he kept hissing in pain. At one point he even hissed your name asking you to grab him a paper towel and you felt your heart skip a little.

He sat on the chair while you cleaned him up and gave him a bandaid. Once you got him squared away and you put the kit back on the shelf, you just kind of stood in front of him. There was nowhere else to go and not much to say.

He grabbed your hand, closing the distance between you two, pulling you toward him “the old ‘nurse me back to health’ trope huh? What a classic” he joked in a low gravely voice

“You’re so annoying”, you whined jokingly pushing away, as his one hand placed your arm on his shoulder and the other wrapped around your waist.

You caressed the side of his face with one hand, contemplating if this was really about to happen. You just met this guy yesterday - but you have already felt his pecs, cuddled with him in public and let him call himself daddy.

You leaned down and hovered in front of his mouth, “don’t make me beg” he whispered as he moved closer to plant his lips on yours. It started slow but very deliberate, he was soft but sturdy, your knees felt weak and you could feel him holding you up with the strength of his arm alone.

He took more initiative in the kiss and started taking control, his tongue now fighting for dominance in your mouth and he pulled you down into a straddling position on to his lap, never breaking apart. The more intense he got the more inhaled and exhaled sharply, the breathing made it all so much hotter. He started kissing down your neck, using his hands to guide which way you leaned your head to receive him.

He got to your ear and whispered , “I wanted you the second I saw you”, and started kissing and licking your collarbone, “you’re so perfect” he said into your neck before biting and sucking at various spots. While he worked on a particular part of your neck – biting and sucking, making you moan his name. He started to lower your bathing suit strap to reveal your soft wet breasts.

He looked at you as he kissed down your chest and gently placed it in his mouth, sucking and licking at the nipple making you thrash in excitement. You moaned his name out loud again, he switched to the other breast with the same licking and sucking motion while using his hand to play with the nipple of the other. You felt a rush when he moaned, it sent a vibration through your body that you felt it below.

He was so attuned with your body, he knew you could feel the excitement pooling down there and went to feel you over the bathing suit down there. Your back arched the second he touched you, your breath shaky. You locked lips again as he continued to graze it.

Just as you went to reach down to feel him hard through his trunks, the camp alarm sounded, calling everyone back to the main area. The rudeness of the alarm made you two separate and understand what you were really doing.

When you both come down from the euphoric feeling of being wrapped up in another stranger, you pulled your straps back up to cover yourself and he helped you off him. He pushed the chair back, you grabbed the towels both of you came in with and left, not saying a word.

When you joined the group again, you had to sit with your team. You and Nicholas found Cooper and sat on either side of him, typically you had been in the middle of them two but you needed a little distance from Nicholas at the moment.

“You guys are still in your swim stuff? I saw you guys wrapped up earlier than us” Cooper genuinely asked

There was a pause that needed to be filled, you went to speak but Nicholas also started, you both stopped and almost started again and then stopped fully and there was another long pause

“Oh no that's fine, that’s totally how normal people answer a question” Cooper said sarcastically.

---

The next day of training, returners and new counselors had separate schedules. This was perfect because after yesterday, it’s not that you were avoiding Nicholas but you certainly needed a break and time to process how this all progressed so quickly.

That night, in the cafeteria certain counselors signed up for different kitchen shifts, you and Cooper got put on clean up duty. When dinner was wrapping up Nicholas hung around for as long as possible. It wasn’t weird, there was an energy between you two but mostly he just hung around to talk to Cooper. You kept a distance and participated in the conversation from afar.

Cooper went to the back to handle the trashtrash and you were clearing off tables. Nicholas stood up to leave and called you over. You didn't know what he was going to say, was he going to ask you why haven't we talked? Does he want to have sex? Does he have a girlfriend? Every thought ran through your mind as you walked over to him from a few tables over.

You got to him and asked “what’s up?” he paused, stood up and looked down at you. He used his fingers to lift your face in his direction and planted another kiss on you right then and there, without a care in the world. His lips were soft and plush, you felt yourself melt into him from how smooth it was.

“Let me know if we’re doing another sweet treat run tonight” he said just a few inches from your mouth and walked out.

You were floored, who is this man? That kiss was so comfortable, as if you were his and he was yours. It felt natural and right to him.

You wiped down the counters while Cooper stocked and organized supplies for the next day’s meals, the silence between them was oddly comfortable. From the second you met them both Nicholas was a little harder to read and you felt like you had to do a little more to get his attention. Not that you necessarily wanted his attention but with Cooper, he immediately opened up. He was warm, comforting and quiet. He just felt safe.

When everything was done, you and Cooper sat on top of a table while the floors dried and ate ice cream. You couldn’t help but smile at him as he sat across from you criss-cross apple sauce style, him being easily over 6 ft and sitting to make himself look small was so endearing.

The more you talked the smaller the distance grew between you two. Your knees were touching and he was stroking your leg as you both continued talking, doting into each other’s eyes.

He glanced at you, a small smile playing at his lips. “You know, you’re probably the most beautiful person I’ve met.”

You raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “Where’s this coming from?”

He finished his cone just in time to place both hands on your legs while he answered. His hands were large and strong, with veins subtly tracing the surface, hinting at a quiet power beneath his skin. The rough texture of his palms contrasted with the smoothness of his long fingers, which moved with a practiced, almost careful grace. There was something magnetic about the way they flexed, confident and capable, as if they knew exactly how to hold the world—firm, yet gentle.

“Just being honest. You’ve been, like… really good to me since day one. Everyone here is nice but you and Nick have made me feel comfortable here”, he said through a smile.

His words made your heart skip, but you tried to play it cool. “I mean, I hope you gave Nicholas thanks like this too, don’t want him feeling left out.” you let out a laugh and so did he.

“No, but it’s different with you,” he said, and this time, he didn’t look away. “I was nervous as hell coming here, and I wasn’t expecting anyone to make it easier, but you did. I didn’t feel out of place with you around. You’re, like, ridiculously sweet and also…” He trailed off, eyes scanning your face like he was debating how much to say. “You’re also, like, the most attractive person here.”

Suddenly you were in the same position you were in with Nicohlas in the shed, a moment of silence where nothing needed to be said, only action needed to be taken.

Copper leaned forward and quietly said, “I’m gonna kiss you now”

He leaned in slowly, his breath warm against your lips as he hesitated for a moment, savoring the closeness. His kiss started soft, tentative, like he was afraid to rush it, each movement deliberate and tender. His lips were gentle against yours, almost shy, and you could feel the slightest tremble in his touch. But as you pressed closer, he exhaled, letting go of his nerves, and the kiss deepened naturally. He found his rhythm, and what began as slow and cautious soon turned into something warmer, more fluid, their lips moving together with a sweet, unhurried certainty.

You felt his one hand on your thigh and the other slipped under your shirt, warm and steady against your skin. His fingers curled against your side, massaging gently as he explored the curve of your waist. Slowly, he moved his hand upward, caressing your breasts with a careful touch, his thumb tracing soft, deliberate circles until your body relaxed into his hands.

'Is this okay?' Cooper pulled away from the kiss, his forehead resting lightly against yours as he searched your eyes, his voice soft and filled with concern. The tenderness in his question only made you want him more."

You nodded, your breath hitching as his lips found yours again, this time with more confidence. His hand slipped back under your shirt, his movements unhurried but more intentional now, as though he wanted to savor every second of the moment. His thumb brushed across your skin, sending little sparks through your body, and you leaned into his touch, your hands finding their way to his hair. You tugged gently, and he let out a low, quiet groan that only made you pull him closer.

Cooper’s kisses grew deeper, more fluid as he relaxed into it, his earlier nervousness melting away. His hand continued to explore, fingertips dancing across your body as if he was learning every inch of you. There was something almost reverent in the way he touched you—gentle but filled with intent, as though he couldn’t believe this moment was real. He pulled you closer, his lips moving from your mouth to your jaw, then to your neck, his breath warm and steady against your skin as he took his time, each kiss slower than the last.

'You’re incredible,' he whispered against your neck, his voice rough with affection. The way he said it, so soft and unassuming, made your heart swell, and in that moment, you knew that every touch, every kiss, was laced with more than just desire.

You felt wrap his hands around you and he shifted his position to lay you down gently on the table. He continued kissing you on your neck, whispering praises softly in your ear while his hands smoothly roamed your body, “you’re so perfect”, “I need you”, “you’re a goddess”.

You felt his hand go lower and lower on your body until he got to your waistband. He pulled from the passionate kiss to look at you, he thought you were so beautiful in this moment. Frazzled from his passion, your eyes begging him to keep going. His fingers slipped into your shorts, but stopped, “are you sure?” Cooper asked you again, wanting to make sure you felt safe.

You pulled him down on top of you to kiss again and pushed his hand down so his fingers just grazed over the clit. His fingers continued to massage your area, with each pass you moaned into his mouth. Your kisses became deeper and frantic as you struggled to keep from completely unraveling from him.

“Let go for me baby”, he said with his forehead resting on yours. Before you could catch your breath his hand went lower and he angled his fingers at your entrance, your back arched in anticipation.

He pulled back completely so he could see your reaction to his fingers slipping inside if you. He traced around your entrance a little before slipping in his middle finger. You gasped and shuttered as his finger moved in and out, your moans turned to whimpers as he slipped in another finger.

You moaned out his name as his fingers curled inside of you hitting your spot. You had no control of your body, your body spasming from his touch which was getting deeper and faster by the minute, you were moaning so loud you didn’t care who heard you and your hands searched for some part of him to touch to return the favor. You reached out for his waistband, his hard member was pressed against his pants. You wanted to make him feel as good as he made you.

Just as you were about to return the favor, the camp alarm went off for a final roll call for bed. You and Cooper froze, reality settling back in as you both quickly gathered yourselves, adjusting clothes and catching your breath.

Cooper sat back with a sheepish grin, running a hand through his hair. 'I guess I got a little carried away,' he admitted, a soft laugh escaping his lips as he glanced at you, clearly still processing everything.

You smiled back, your heart still racing but now more from the situation than the moment before. 'It’s fine,' you said with a light shrug, your voice playful. 'It was fun... and now I think the favor's officially been returned for being so sweet.'

He let out a low chuckle, his eyes soft and warm as he looked at you.

---

A few days had passed, and while you hadn't been actively avoiding Cooper or Nicholas, you also hadn’t been seeking them out either. You needed a moment to clear your head after everything, to let the tension simmer down before the campers arrived. Still, you didn’t want things to feel awkward, so you invited them over to your cabin to help put together goodie bags for the kids. Your cabin mate was out for the night, so you even suggested they sleep over since their cabins were farther away. It was a subtle effort to show them you were cool, if they were cool. Even though every time one of them shifted closer, the heat between your legs was impossible to ignore.

You all worked in a comfortable rhythm, talking and laughing as you assembled the bags, until a song came on that sent Nicholas into nostalgic mode. His eyes lit up, and with a grin, he said, "This song always reminds me of my first kiss." You laughed.

Nicholas leaned back, his eyes dreamy with the memory. "Middle school. At a dance. I was so nervous I almost missed her lips entirely."

The three of you burst into laughter, and soon the conversation flowed into everyone sharing their stories, one kiss memory after another. Cooper shared about his first kiss behind the bleachers at a football game, and you talked about a spontaneous kiss under the basement steps of your friends’ house with her hot older brother. The mood was light and fun, each of you enjoying the trip down memory lane.

But then Cooper, ever the curious one, leaned forward, his tone more playful than usual. "So... has anyone here fooled around at camp before?" The question hung in the air for a moment, and you could feel the tension shift. You knew exactly why you were feeling awkward, but you noticed Nicholas’s smirk almost instantly. His eyes flicked between you and Cooper, as though daring one of you to speak first.

You opened your mouth, not entirely sure what you were going to say, when Nicholas took the chance. "Actually," he began, leaning forward with a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I’ve done it twice already. And both of them are in this room."

Your eyes shot open, heart hammering in your chest as you whipped your gaze to Nicholas. Cooper let out a surprised laugh, and for a moment, you were too stunned to speak. Wait—Cooper already knew? Your mind raced to piece it all together, the realization dawning on you like a light bulb flicking on. You’d hooked up with Nicholas. Cooper knew. And they had hooked up too?

"Hold up," you finally managed to say, your voice a mix of shock and curiosity. "You two—?"

Nicholas nodded, leaning back with an easy confidence, clearly enjoying your reaction. "After arts and crafts clean-up a few days ago," he said, glancing at Cooper with a smirk. "We were the only ones left in the room, and we ended up in that tiny back closet putting away supplies…”

Cooper chimed in, chuckling. "It was kind of inevitable. I mean, we were basically on top of each other. And then... one thing led to another. I pulled his shirt off and started kissing chest. He kissed down my neck. Mouths went places, hands went places and rest is a fogged up window.”

Your mind spun, trying to wrap around the image of Nicholas and Cooper together. You could practically picture it—the tension, the closeness, the heat of the moment in the small, confined space.

You swallowed, feeling the heat rise between the three of you again, but this time it was different. This wasn’t about embarrassment anymore—it was curiosity, excitement, a shared secret now out in the open.

Cooper and Nicholas exchanged a glance before bursting out into laughter. Cooper was the first to speak. "Oh, it was obvious," he said, still chuckling. "When you came to the camp meeting that day after special classes, the hickies already started forming on your neck. You weren’t exactly subtle."

Nicholas leaned forward with a mischievous grin. "And I tried to come back to the dining hall after I left that night you two had clean up duty and I heard you two making out in the distance, so I turned right back around."

The three of you erupted into laughter, the kind that shakes your whole body and makes your cheeks hurt. It was funny now, how you’d all tiptoed around it, trying to keep it secret when in reality, none of you had been fooling anyone.

When the laughter finally died down, Nicholas’s curiosity took over. "Okay, so... real talk. Who do you prefer more?" His eyes sparkled with playful competitiveness, and he leaned back with a smirk, clearly ready for whatever answer you had.

Cooper grinned, nudging your shoulder. "Yeah, no pressure, but... we’re all dying to know."

You couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous it was—being asked to choose between them like it was some kind of game. You paused for a moment, then gave a mock-serious look as you made a reference only you could deliver. "You know, it feels like Tyra Banks standing here with two contestants in front of her, and only one can stay."

Cooper burst out laughing, recognizing the reference immediately. "No way, you’re not about to do an America’s Next Top Model elimination on us right now!"

You grinned, savoring the dramatic moment. "But if I had to choose..." you began, your eyes darting between them, building suspense. Finally, you pointed to Cooper. "It’s you."

Cooper jumped up from the floor, arms raised in victory. "Yes! I knew it!" he shouted, dancing around the room like he’d just won a championship. Nicholas, meanwhile, was in mock shock, his mouth hanging open as he smiled at the absurdity of it all.

"You’ve got to be kidding me!" Nicholas exclaimed, shaking his head with a grin. "I thought I had this in the bag!"

You laughed, trying to calm the chaos around you. "Hooking up with you, Nick, was fun and spontaneous. But Cooper..." you turned to Cooper, who was still grinning like an idiot, "...was gentle, tender, and made me feel really special."

Cooper shrugged nonchalantly, though the satisfaction was clear on his face. "What can I say? I just know how to make a woman feel special."

Nicholas rolled his eyes but smiled anyway, leaning closer to you. "Okay, fine. But..." he gave you that familiar smirk, "...if you let me have another shot, I can be gentle too."

You raised an eyebrow, curious. "Oh, yeah? You think so?"

He nodded, the playful tone in his voice now edged with something more serious. "Absolutely. If you’ll let me."

You smiled and nodded, your body buzzing with excitement. "Okay, I’m down."

With that, Nicholas took your hand and guided you to the bed. He sat down next to you and this time, there was no rush, no quick or hurried movements. He was slow, deliberate, his hands softer as they found your waist and pulled you gently toward him. He kissed you with a tenderness you hadn’t felt from him before, each movement careful, as though he was savoring the moment.

The heat between you built gradually, the tension thick in the air but controlled. Nicholas was taking his time, just like he promised. His lips moved against yours with a softness that surprised you, his hand sliding up your side in a slow caress that made your breath hitch. Compared to your first time hooking up, this was different—more intentional, more intimate.

You felt Cooper watching from the other side of the room, clearly entertained but also intrigued. Nicholas’s kiss deepened, but the pace stayed slow, methodical, as he explored every part of you with a newfound gentleness.

"Not bad," Cooper teased from the sidelines, his voice light but clearly enjoying the view. Nicholas smirked against your lips, but didn’t break the kiss, his focus entirely on you. He put his hand on his thigh and started messaging, working his way further and further up.

Nicholas parted from your lips to make his way down your neck. When you first hooked up, he would’ve started biting and sucking but this time he placed soft kisses on your neck, while lightly squeezing your thighs. He whispered in your ear “see, I can be anything you want me to be baby” he nearly whimpered in your ear.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and your body quivered in response. You were melting into the moment, eyes closed, savoring the feeling, when suddenly, Nicholas pulled away. Your eyes shot open in confusion, the warmth of his body leaving yours too soon.

“Why’d you stop?” you asked, breathless, your lips tingling from his touch.

Nicholas smirked, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Just wanted to show you I could be gentle,” he said with a wink, clearly enjoying how worked up he’d gotten you.

You let out a soft laugh, though you couldn’t help but still want more. “Well, you’ve definitely proven that,” you teased back, a smile tugging at your lips.

Cooper stepped in, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Well, if we’re all trying new things, maybe it’s time I take a shot at being more... aggressive."

You smiled wide as you agreed, Cooper crossed the room in a few long strides and came to sit next to you on the bed. He gently but firmly grabbed your face, pulling you to his direction. His lips met yours with a fiery intensity, pulling you on top of him and kissing you harder, deeper than before. His hands gripped your hips with a sense of urgency, and he moved faster, more aggressively, his kisses more forceful as he claimed your mouth. The energy was completely different from the gentle, careful approach Nicholas had just taken, but it was equally intoxicating.

You gasped against Cooper’s mouth as he pressed into you, his lips trailing down your neck with no hesitation this time. He kissed you with raw hunger, teeth grazing your skin, his hands roaming your body with confident, demanding touches that sent heat pooling low in your belly. Every move he made was firm, and you could feel the shift in energy—this was Cooper letting go, leaning into the moment with full force.

But out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Nicholas watching from where he stood, his eyes dark with anticipation. His gaze was hungry, eager, as if he didn’t care who he joined in on, just that he wanted to be wrapped between you and Cooper.

Cooper noticed it too, pausing briefly to glance over at Nicholas. He didn’t say a word, but his eyes flashed with a knowing look, as if he was silently inviting Nicholas to join. Then, in one smooth motion, Cooper gently but firmly placed you back on the bed, your body sinking into the softness of the blankets beneath you.

Nicholas didn’t need any further invitation.

He crossed the room and joined you both, sliding onto the bed with that same eager smirk he always wore. Without missing a beat, he moved in close, taking his place on one side of you while Cooper positioned himself on the other. You could feel Nicholas’s breath warm against your skin before his lips pressed to the side of your neck, the same spot Cooper had just claimed moments ago.

The sensation of both of them on either side of you was overwhelming, in the best way possible. Nicholas’s kisses were slow but deliberate, each one more lingering than the last, while Cooper’s lips moved more urgently, as though he couldn’t get enough. You were surrounded by them, their hands tracing up and down your body as their mouths explored your neck, your collarbone, the sensitive spots just below your ear.

Nicholas’s fingers skimmed across your waist, his touch light but teasing, while Cooper’s hand slid down your thigh, squeezing gently. The contrast between the two of them made your heart race, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft, involuntary moan as you sank deeper into the sensation.

“This is what you wanted, right?” Nicholas murmured against your neck, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine. “Both of us... all over you?”

Before you could answer, Cooper’s lips moved to your ear, his breath hot as he whispered, “Tell us what you like.”

You felt completely overwhelmed, your senses flooded by the way both Cooper and Nicholas were hitting every spot that made your body hum with pleasure. Nicholas's lips left soft, teasing kisses along your collarbone while Cooper’s hands roamed your body, his grip firm and sure. The contrast between their touches, one gentle, one rough, had your heart racing, and you were utterly lost in the sensation.

Needing more, you reached up, grabbing Cooper’s face and pulling him into a heated kiss. You matched his intensity, your lips moving hungrily against his, both of you completely giving in to the moment. His hands gripped your hips harder, pulling you closer, as if he wanted to devour you whole.

Meanwhile, Nicholas’s kisses continued to trail down your shoulder, slow and deliberate, each one sending shivers down your spine. His hands were patient, exploring every inch of your body with a calm but insistent touch, as if he wanted to memorize the way you felt beneath his fingers.

Cooper pulled away just long enough to tug your shirt over your head, and before you could even process it, Nicholas unhooked your bra with expert precision, leaving you bare in front of them. For a second, the weight of their gaze made you feel vulnerable—but the way they looked at you, eyes full of hunger and admiration, made the tension crackle in the air.

Without missing a beat, Nicholas’s lips found their way to your breast, his tongue tracing soft circles before he took your nipple into his mouth. The sensation sent a wave of heat through your body, and you gasped, arching into his touch. His mouth was gentle, but the pressure was enough to make your body ache for more.

At the same time, Cooper’s teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your neck, biting down just enough to leave a lingering sting that made you squirm in his grasp. His hands explored your back, pulling you flush against him, and every bite, every nip, felt like it was setting your skin on fire.

The combination of Nicholas’s slow, teasing kisses and Cooper’s rough, hungry bites made your mind spin. You could barely keep up with the sensations washing over you, your body reacting to every touch, every kiss, every movement. It was almost too much, but you couldn’t get enough.

“You’re perfect,” Nicholas whispered against your skin, his lips still trailing over your chest. “I could keep doing this all night.”

Cooper smirked against your neck, his hand sliding down your waist. “We might just have to.”.

#nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez #cooper koch #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez x y/n #cooper koch x reader #cooper koch fanfic #nicholas chavez fanfiction #nicholas chavez smut #cooper koch smut #lavender baby #nasty remix #mother’s first fic 🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧

905 notes · View notes

idontcare4urmom · 4 months ago

Text

𝑊𝐴𝑇𝐶𝐻 𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝑀𝑂𝑈𝑇𝐻 || Chris sturniolo

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: you make the terrible mistake of quip referring to your ex’s name and behaviour during an argument with your boyfriend Chris,leading to things taking a wild twist when his possessive impulses take over.

𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠: yelling and cursing,smut,unprotected and rough sex,clit playing,fingering,orgasming multiple times,pet names,dirty talk,praising,degradation,hair yanking,spanking,overstimulation,etc.

𝑎／𝑛: my first language is not english,sorry for any mistakes.

you heavily huff out a breath out from your nose while standing there,dealing with his yelling and complaining once again.the reasonings of your arguments lately kept getting more and more ridiculous to be honest,yet you weren’t able to prevent them anymore.

“i told you plenty amount of times Chris,it wasn’t my fucking fault that i had to cancel,my mom neede-“

“ugh i am tired of this! always the same bullshit excuse,it’s the third one you are doing this in a month” he shouted out abruptly,instantly regretting it once he observed the way your jaw clenched along with your eyes holding back the bawling.

he was genuinely about to apologize after he softly sighed,reaching out for your shoulder but for you to just snap backwards,he was caught off guard by the action,however it was what you mumbled next that pissed him off frantically.

“fuck off,James would never had treated me that way,he would understand”

oh Chris could sense his blood boil as soon as that sentence came out of your lips,his fists automatically closing into his sides with his pupils taking over a menacing gleam that popped out raw frustration.

he despises nothing more but that man,especially since he was aware of how head over heels you used to be for him a year ago.

disbelief slowly crosses over your features when he somehow answers calmly,a vigorously edge drizzling his voice “watch your mouth pretty girl,we all know that i treat you way better than he did”

your stubbornness inched to deny,to fight back,although an other part of you wanted to play safe,sending him a piercing glare and then staying completely silent,letting the quietness hang over the air until he broke it himself.

“you are not really helping yourself out sweetheart” it was obvious that he was mentally referring at your lack of response,stepping impossible close to you so he can with a light shove launch you on the mattress of your bed,

he immediately hovered above your figure,both of his legs encircling your sides before he began to undress you,making sure to take purposefully brush your skin in whatever chance,and you were more than surprised by the suddenness of his gestures.

“what are you-“

now it was his turn to not reply,greedily discarding to the floor any fabric that covers you up and leaving you in just your thong on,causing you to squirm as air bubbles the peel of your body.about to speak up,he withdrew that opportunity by smashing down his lips to your’s,kissing you with a passionate fever.

the contact was additionally excessive and demanding,making you touch starved as his mouth coated your's blissfully,his palms strolling down on your skin to land on the curve of your ass,gropping it in between his fingers before giving it a firm slap,stumulating a soft gasp from you.

there wasn't any second to protest,him already flipped over on your stomach with him positioned against you from behind.you could sensate the numbness on the fabric of your underwear curating your warm heat while his hand grounded down on your delicate buttocks again and again,only dragging out lewd whimpers for a response.

"aw what's wrong baby? too sensitive to handle this? sould have thought about that earlier" he cooed mockingly,his free index finger polling under your panties,tugging them down and teasing his touch everywhere but on your center that was practically begging for relief.

a muffled sinister snicker escaped him when your hips rolled high,desperately yet silently pulsating for more.

"not so fast baby,now tell me first..was James able to get you like this? all whiney from just a little spanking as if you are a whore in heat?"

his words for some reason only fuelled your desire further,especially from the tone of absolute disgust dripping from his lips at the mention of your past partner.

you managed to only high pitch a “no” that cracked into a moan of ecstasy when he finally started rubbing your drenched bud and clit rhythmically,pinching it at the edge of his curvy digit.

you scratched furiously the surface of the headboard that was tangled within your hands,your head interred on the soft layer of pillow as your boyfriend continued to pleasure you,sending jolts of shivering through your entire body.

his experienced tongue darted to loop at the nape of your neck and collarbone,choking out a strained moan once the roots of your hair were pulled backwards,angling the perfect length of exposed skin “Chris- “mhm,i know baby don’t worry,you can take it”

you shallowed the lump that formed on your throat as he repeatedly draw patterns of bite nibbling on you,his ring and pinky finger inserting around your entrance before unexpectedly slipping inside,coaxing from you a gasp “oh fuck!”

“that’s it baby,have to stretch your out really fast,gotta prepare you for my dick later,okay?” you just nodded,drowning at the nirvana you were receiving while he pumped and curled smoothly his fingertips on your insides,hugging all the right spots perfectly.

you clasped the sheets below you since you felt your upcoming orgasm rising fast,the uncomfortable tight pressure on your lower abdomen causing you to clench around his hand and without a warning erupt into busts of cum that glistened your legs with arousal.

he didn’t wasted any second to haul off his jeans along with his boxers in one movement,wrathfully stroking the overwhelmed bulge of his leaking head while roaming his gaze at the sight in front of him,you being already fucked out,

he aligned himself at your opening,his chest squeezing your spine as he effortlessly and powerfully thrusted in your hole,eliciting a groan from the both of you.still affected for your previous release though,you mumbled a follow of curses “shit Chris,’m sensitive”

“shh baby,you will be fine i promise,you just have to do what you know the best for a few minutes,managing my cock like a good whore” he murmured soothingly yet demandingly,his hips swirling forward in a newfound pace and warmth that made your head spin.

the “few minutes” was totally a lie to say the least,cause after the multiple rounds you couldn’t even count anymore how many times you came undone around his length,your vision blurry with tears dropping down your cheeks.

the only possible hunch you could currently store in your memory was his every vein and muscle pulsing in your sweet spot with no mercy,the noise of skin to skin clapping together with mixed gasps and mewls resonating nonstop.

“t-too much!” you sobbed out once he increased the speed of his pounding at the same time his mouth wrapped around your perky nipple,his teeth gently twisting the flesh.

completely vulnerable and at his mercy,he finally stopped when he decided that you actually had enough,lazily pushing back and forth for a last time before his seed overflowed you entirely like a wave for the fourth(?) time.

the soreness and pain you felt when he pulled out from your pussy was not able to be described,but at the same time,there was no doubt about this being your best ever sex session with him.

and you also were now sure for one “lesson” : to never test Chris’ limits again

——————————————

ehhh i finally ended this i hope you guys like it cause i don’t want to disappoint you 🥹🫶🏻

tags!: @sleepysturniolo @muwapsturniolo @bratty-eliana44 @verywonderlandpolice @2muchofaslvt @sophiaxsblog @cayleeuhithinknot @yourfavg1nger @lianomer @joemamaaa42069 @chrispotatos @bagsbyclair0 @xprakzif @wiidfi0wer33 @zainabthescientist @freakbob15 @cutiepaiquill @buckys-goodgirl @chrisstvrns @fakeesyd

i lowkey wanna make an official taglist but i am scared that no one will want to be on it fr

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fandom #christopher sturniolo #fanfic #chris x reader #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #smutty #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #evelyn’s posts #chris sturniolo smut #matt x reader

681 notes · View notes

iid-smile · 4 months ago

Text

gojo would...

if you were dating them series.

buy the two of you matching slippers. except they're not anything normal. name a thing, and he already has a pair, slipper form. his favourites are the spongebob and gary ones (those are actually normal), fish, some less than appropriate things, feet. like, literally just feet. realistic too, and he has a bunch of different styles of feet for some reason? he does have some cute ones, just for your sake. sanrio is a must, and he gets my melody, you kuromi. fluffy ones are also a must. he likes uggs too, and thinks they look cute on you.

have a necklace of your name, or a ring with your birthday on it. he's on this whole "he belongs to you" streak, except he's actively doing it to himself and you have no part in it. he adores your name, and definitely would not mind showing it off on a necklace for everyone to see. however, if he's on a mission, it remains tucked in uniform. same thing with the ring, he'd rather not hollow purple and lose a ring in the process. i think he'd have the ring on his pinky, and when you link pinkies with him, you'd feel the cool surface against your skin.

call you silly nicknames. sugarplum scrumdiddlyumptious. megatron dumpy truck with whipped cream on top. nerf thunderhawk accustrike mega toy blaster, and he says it in full. sir... what do these even mean? and they're so unnecessarily long? imagine you got lost in a mall or grocery store, and he says one of these nicknames in the microphone... you'd rather not be found.

fill the bed with plushies. and they wouldn't even be small either. i'm talking full on 64 inches tall. he'd even buy one that's bigger than you, and cuddle with it to sleep to make you jealous. gradually sprinkles a few weird looking ones and see how many he can get away with before he gets caught. throws the smaller ones at you, and the bigger ones are used for pillow fights. the bed would get so crowded if you don't stop him, and you probably wouldn't be able to sleep at all. make sure to scold him strictly, otherwise he won't listen to you whatsoever.

randomly blindfold you. i think he would have a few spare blindfolds lying around the house, so be prepared at all times. he does it most when you're sleepy or went into the bathroom after waking up, you'd be so caught off guard and that's when you scream the loudest. gets a little cocky when the first thing you scream out is his name.... gets a little pouty when you actually get annoyed at him.

─────────────୨ৎ─────────────

747 notes · View notes

leahwllmsn · 5 months ago

Text

you’re still the one

alexia putellas x reader

back with my fave trope. exes to lovers (sort of). 🫣

“Hey, stranger.”

Alexia almost dropped the plate she was holding at the sound of your voice.

It was her family’s monthly get-together, this time held at her uncle’s place an hour away from Barcelona.

You shouldn’t be here. Not after the breakup.

Alexia eventually turned around, she had to, even though having you within arm’s length made her want to run back inside. She missed you. She hated that it now hurt to look at you when it used to be her most favourite thing to do.

“What are you doing here?” Alexia didn’t mean to sound harsh, she was just caught off guard.

You immediately looked away. Alexia didn’t miss the glimpse of hurt in your eyes though. She almost mumbled an apology but refrained herself.

You two were broken up then you showed up out of nowhere to Alexia’s family event. She figured she had every right to be confused.

“Alba invited me,” you replied.

Alexia frowned. Her sister had no right. Just because you were a part of the family for years didn’t mean it was still the case.

“Sorry,” your shoulders hung low, you were regretting this. “I wasn’t sure if this was a good idea. I know now that it definitely isn’t a good idea.”

Alexia didn’t say anything else. When she used to have so much to say to you, she now had to scramble her brain to find a single word worth mentioning.

“I’ll leave you to it—”

“Ale!”

Alexia froze at the mention of her name. You did too.

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to bring someone new to her family events. Alexia wasn’t even dating Jenni. But it felt weird—it felt wrong—to bring anyone else but you.

“I was looking everywhere for you,” Jenni appeared next to Alexia. You were looking at the pair with pain written all over your face and Alexia really hated where this was going. “Oh, Y/N, hi.”

You were broken up for 6 months. That was half a year. Alexia was allowed to move on (she hadn’t moved on).

Jenni was a friend. She shouldn’t feel guilty for bringing a friend here.

“Hola,” you finally found the courage to speak. “Are you two together now?”

Alexia’s jaw went slack. You were always so forward.

“Congrats, I guess,” you were trying not to cry, Alexia knew this because she knew you. She had known you ever since you were little and she had all your ticks memorized. “Always knew you two would be a good match.”

Jenni immediately shook her head, stepping forward and placing a gentle hand on your forearm. “No, no. Alexia and I are just friends. I promise.”

You looked unconvinced and Alexia had a rush of bravery wash over her. “I’m single!”

Alexia cringed at that. Why did she say that?

But gone was the broken look on your face, replaced with one of amusement. Alexia silently let out a breath of relief.

You mumbled a brief apology to Jenni for jumping to conclusions.

“No worries,” Jenni shrugged, a relieved look on her face at how the tension in your shoulders had lifted. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

You were about to ask Jenni to not leave you alone with Alexia but the girl basically sprinted across the backyard.

“Do you want some iced tea?”

You were taken aback at the change in subject. “What?”

“It’s so hot out here. Iced tea sounds good, no?”

Alexia didn’t know what she was doing. She was confused and heartbroken over you minutes ago, but now all she wanted to do was soothe the ache in her heart. She knew the only way to do so was to mend things with you.

You were her greatest love, after all.

You looked skeptical, but then you slowly nodded at her. “Sure, iced tea sounds good.”

Alexia smiled at you, the first genuine smile she had in months.

Eli once told her that if you two were meant to be, you’d come back to her.

And unexpectedly, here you were.

“So you’re an Olympian now huh?”

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #woso #woso community #woso fanfics

725 notes · View notes

archangeldyke-all · 4 months ago

Note

Size queen Sevika has a chokehold on my mind right now so I was wondering what it would be like using the ejaculating strap on her AAA

Maybe some breeding kink thrown in there too jsksjsjsjsksk

heheheheheheheh i'm gonna make this ceo sev because i miss her!!

men and minors dni

before you were married, sevika made an effort to keep your love lives and your work lives separate-- not wanting it to seem like you had any kind of unfair advantage because of your relationship status to the ceo. your little desk was tucked in the corner of sevika's office back then, where you could eavesdrop on her meetings and make appointments and calls with her without interrupting or interfering with her work.

but now that you've tied the knot, sevika's given up on trying to pretend like you aren't her favorite employee. she's rearranged her office completely, so there's enough room for two matching desks, pushed right up against one another. it leaves no room for sevika to have visitors in her office, you guys play footsie all day, and when she looks up from her work the first thing she sees is you. she loves it.

you love it too.

but it has its drawbacks, because it means you can't hide anything from your wife. like the package you're opening right now with your name on it-- a package you'd completely forgotten about ordering-- a package containing what was supposed to be sevika's birthday present this year.

when you realize what it is-- it's too late. sevika's already seen the way you gasped and heard the little giggle you let out before quickly closing the box again.

"whatcha got, baby?" she asks, her foot reaching out to hook around your ankle.

you clear your throat and shove the package into a drawer, shaking your head. "nothing." you say. dammit. that sounds suspicious as hell.

sevika tilts her head, her gaze sharpening a bit, a smile growing on her lips. "nothing?" she asks. you huff.

"fine. it's something but i can't tell you what it is for a number of reasons."

"reasons being?"

"reasons being you have a birthday coming up and i want to surprise you and you have a meeting in half an hour that you cannot be late to."

and goddamn your wife for being so fucking smart. and so fucking pretty.

sevika's brow furrows for a moment, her eyes darting to the side as her mind races with the possibilities of what could be in the package, and you swear you can actually hear a bell go off inside her head when she perks up in her seat and looks back at you with a sparkle in her eye and a smile.

"baby..." she starts. you huff.

"sevika if you ruin your birthday present i'm not getting you ano--"

"did you get me a dildo for my birthday?" she asks fondly. you groan and kick your wife's shin, and she cackles. "you're incredible!" she laughs.

"it was supposed to be a surprise sevika, you're such an asshole." you pout.

"well lemme see!" she demands, making grabby hands across her desk.

you giggle and give up on trying to surprise your wife. it's never worked before. you pass the package across your desks, and sevika tears into it like a kid on christmas morning.

you check behind your shoulder to make sure none of your coworkers are looking through the glass walls as sevika gasps with shock. "you got me a fuckin' breeding strap?"

when you turn back around in your seat, sevika's holding the dildo box to her chest like it's a teddy bear, and there are stars in her eyes. you cackle.

"would you put that away before somebody sees you?!" you ask. sevika giggles and puts the box back inside the cardboard packaging it came in. "and to answer your question... no. i didn't." you say.

sevika blinks up at you, caught off guard. "y-you didn't?" she asks. you smirk and stand, reaching across your desk to tug your wife across hers by her tie until your lips are only a few inches apart.

"i got me a breeding strap. all you're getting is the synthetic cum i'm gonna fill you with tonight." sevika gulps and you smirk, leaning forward to kiss her parted lips. "now, i gotta go set up the conference room for your meeting, so be a good girl for me and put that away for me and look over your notes." you demand as you turn around to leave your office.

the last thing you hear before the glass door closes behind you is your wife's sweet groan.

sevika glares at you the entire meeting. she's also rock hard the entire meeting.

of course, you're the only one who notices this last part--with your hand casually palming her cock under the solid wood table the entire time; so the looks she's giving you must be incredibly confusing for your coworkers. seamus even asks you after the meeting if everything's been alright at home. you have to hold back a cackle as you assure him that things have literally never been better.

and it's true. every day you fall deeper and deeper in love with your wife. you know the same is true for her, it's proven in how fucking fast she drives home.

in the very beginning of your relationship, sevika never bottomed. but as she grew more secure in your connection, she allowed herself to be more vulnerable with you... and now, three years married, your wife's a loud and proud size queen.

she's jittery with excitement on the elevator ride up to your apartment. when you get home, she kicks her shoes off, tears off her tie, and smacks your ass as she sprints to the bathroom. "you put your dick on, i'll go get ready!!" she giggles.

you snort, your heart swelling with fondness as you wander to the bedroom and begin getting ready.

the dildo's a little tricky to figure out, and you have to research if your synthetic cum is microwave safe, and how long to microwave it to make it warm enough to feel like real cum-- but by the time you're all ready, sevika's running out of the bathroom butt-naked and grinning.

she launches herself onto the bed, spreading out like a starfish on her belly as you giggle. "come on!" she says, shaking her ass a bit at you. you snort.

"you're fuckin' ridiculous." you giggle as you crawl on top of your wife. "hips up." you whisper, shoving a pillow under her hips to give her a better angle and something to grind against. she starts grinding immediately. you smack her ass and she yelps. "don't get too worked up baby. you're not allowed to cum until you milk my load outta me."

sevika shivers and claws the blankets beneath her. "f-fuck." she stutters. you giggle and reach your hand forward, shoving two fingers in her mouth.

"get 'em wet for me, love." you demand. sevika's lips and tongue wrap around your fingers immedietly, soft moans and squelches starting to fill the room as sevika bobs her head on your hand like it's a cock. it's hot as fuck, and you can't help yourself from reaching down and sucking a hickey into her shoulder as she gets you ready for her. "god, you're perfect."

sevika shivers again, a little whine escaping her and tickling your fingers with the vibrations. with your free hand, you start groping her ass, teasing her hole without penetrating, getting her worked up and arching into your touch.

when she's just panting around your fingers-- sucking completely forgotten-- you decide that she's ready for you.

she takes your spit soaked fingers with ease, muffling her whimper into her folded arms. you let her get away with hiding her sounds for now-- in a few minutes you'll have her screaming, anyways.

when two fingers become three you know she's ready.

"you hear how wet your hole is for me? haven't even put my cock in you yet-- you're such a slut, baby."

"i'd be more of a slut if i had your dick in me." she mumbles.

you cackle and smack her ass again. sevika huffs a little laugh at her own joke, and you pick that moment to slide your cock in her.

she sputters, squeaks, and then groans so loud you're pretty sure the walls shake. "good?" you ask.

sevika's too busy gasping and trying to smack her hips back on yours to answer, so she shoots you a thumbs up over her shoulder. you laugh again, sink your nails into her hips, and start fucking her like she deserves.

for a while, it's just grunts and gasps and moans and kissing sounds. you re-adjust a few times, trying to find a good position and rhythm, until you're basically mounting her, buried balls deep in her and pounding her into the mattress.

you can always tell when you're fucking sevika right because her whole left leg starts to spasm, from thigh to toes. it's cute as hell-- she has no control over it-- and it makes you want to fucking ruin her. you growl when her calf starts quivering, reaching forward and grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head out of her arms.

"fuck!" sevika cries. "f-fuck you fuck me so good, what the fuck?" she babbles.

she looks delicious beneath you, her strong back writhing as she squirms on the bed.

"i'm gonna knock you up." you grunt, smacking her ass. sevika whines. "you're so fuckin' good sevika, gonna fill you with my cum 'n fuck you til it takes-- give you my fuckin' kids."

"fuck, stop talkin' like that or you'll make me cum!" she whines. you snort. she's trying so hard to be good and wait for you to cum like you told her to, but she's so easy when you start talking about breeding her.

"thought you were gonna be good?" you ask, clawing at sevika's ass.

"i'm trying but you're-- fuck! there!-- fucking me too good!" she cries.

you giggle. "well, then, you better hurry up 'n make me cum before you do, baby."

sevika flails around for a few seconds, reaching out to try and reach your body from where you've mounted her, but she's basically pinned beneath you. she groans in frustration, lets out a tiny moan, and then takes a big breath.

"p-please cum in me." she whines. it's your turn to shiver. her voice is just so pathetic and sweet, and you can feel the tension in her body from the way she's trying to keep herself from cumming-- like a rubber band ready to snap. "please, please cum in me-- you're so fuckin' big, you're so deep, i know it'll work-- you'll knock me up this time, i know it-- i want your cum-- i want your kids-- baby ple--" sevika cuts herself off with a gasp as you start to cum, grinding against her ass as you squeeze the little pump you'd hooked in your harness.

"f-fuck, take it baby--" you pull out just for a moment, just to see the way your cum leaks out of her ass, just to spurt a few drops on her lower back-- and that's all it takes for sevika to fall apart.

you laugh as she cries and cums into the blankets, sinking yourself back inside her hole and giving her the rest of the cum loaded in your dick.

"it's warm." she whimpers.

you heave a breath and then burst into giggles. "microwaved it for you."

this makes sevika giggle too. "that was way more cum than any healthy human should be producing." she cackles. you giggle.

sevika's thighs are drenched in the sticky substance, and you're sure when you pull out the mess will only get worse. still though. "that was hot as fuck." you mumble.

sevika grins. "best birthday gift ever." she agrees. you snort and smack her ass one more time-- just for good measure.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @claude999 @nhaaauyen

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #sevika smut

554 notes · View notes

skyrigel · 7 months ago

Text

Victory indeed || A.B

Pairing: Anthony bridgerton x wife!reader

Plot : You are on your way to steal the mallet of death but Anthony gets there first, change in plans— romancing lord Viscount.

Warning: NSFW content ahead!

Rigel's note🪩 : This is inspired from happily ever after, there's quite blood shed for mallet of death. Yeah Colin is love <3

The last bits of doubt left as you shifted Anthony's arm off your waist, slowly pushing your body down and further till you were out from his grip, he almost looked innocent, sleeping and bed soft, his mouth curled in a dream like smile but you knew better than that. last time Anthony, like lord Viscount he was, stole the pallet from your wardrobe.

And the year prior, Daphne showed her Bridgerton colors, involving the Duke himself in her malice plans.

You couldn't help but smile, thinking your bridgerton were showing up too, the floor was frozen underneath your step but you thought about the victory tommorow, the look on Anthony's face would be priceless, wrapping your cloak around yourself and closing the door soundlessly as you ventured out in the corridor, the moon was high and the air was chill. If inside the Aubrey hall was cold then you weren't up for the chill outside, a shiver ran down your spine as you stepped out in the moonlight, taking the back route, just in case. The shed stood there in the bleak light. You fiddled for keys and it didn't make sense when the wooden door was unlocked, maybe Johnny forgot to lock it, anyway, all more easy. The door creaked in the silence and you couldn't care less, there was nothing between you and your victory black mallet and—

Your breath was knocked out of you as if your lungs were punctured, a gasp of white mist left your mouth at the sight of your husband, leaning idly against the wall.

" I... Anthony?! " You blinked and unblinked and he was still there, smiling.

" What are you doing here wifey ? " He cooed and it didn't help the terror that seized you.

" You knew ! " You hoped it wasn't as shaking like it felt in your throat, Anthony ran a hand through his hair and it all made sense, damn his dreamlike smile, damn you lord Viscount.

" You wound me baby, do you want me to tie you until the game tommorow, tell me, would you like that ? " He smiled all the while, faking a frown as he narrowed his eyes to your silhouette in dark.

" So you would guard the mallet all night ? " You wouldn't let Anthony win this time, it was coming on your pride now, also the love making that followed where he called you all those petty names. The last he called you runner up. No, you would win this time.

" Or I could tie you up, I like that better." Anthony suggested smugly, propping on top of the desk and flashing an erotic display of thigh, change of plans.

" My lord..." You whsipered, all seduction placed in one basket and all smugness was dropped when Anthony's lips parted.

" Do.not." he shuddered but you hit the nerve, moving slowly in your shaking steps, cloak dangling behind you.

" Anthony, these games are absurd. " You stiffled the laugh that burnt your chest, heart heaving and thudding inside your ribs.

It almost didn't work the last time you caught him stealing the mallet, Mrs.Wilson came at a very wrong time.

" It's not working." He assured, to himself mostly but his hand reached for your body all the same, betraying every word he said as he pulled you closer, face mere inches away.

He wrapped his big arms around your waist and cocked your head sideways.

" What about..." You paused, bumping your nose to his cheeks as he sniffed the moon shadow out of you, his lips tried to claim yours but you liked playing games. The ones you could win.

" About what ? " He asked breathless, his long slender fingers undoing the knot in frantic rushed movements. It was no use.

" I was thinking about...we don't have a daughter." You hoped nothing was drowned in the moan that left when Anthony bit at the junction of your neck and shoulder, he looked up with a glint, it was the most sincere set of eyes you had ever seen, also the lustiest.

Anthony could do both, have you screaming his name and worship you all the same.

" Take the mallet...take everything baby. " He kissed you, hard and crashing, like he couldn't get enough, you couldn't get enough and it became too restless for games and victory. Your body oozed with goosebumps and every single thought evaporated like mist and memories.

Anthony dropped the knot and pulled the cloak up from your head and you easily gave in, throwing your hands up as the satin fabric fell on the floor. Anthony hummed in desire.

You felt the cold air circling your body but as soon as Anthony's mouth kissed the exposed skin of you breast, it was gone, nothing mattered than him and his filthy demanding mouth.

" How beautiful you would look with our baby in your belly." He whispered against your skin and you shivered at the sensation.

His palm gripped your hips and lifted you on the desk, turning the dynamics and you cursed under your breath when his unholy fingers pinched your nipple, hard and raw.

" You like that ? " He breathed, undoing buttons of your nightdress like he was made for it, he was merciless sometimes, taking pleasure when you screamed his name and teasing you later, " so needy for me baby ? "

" An.. Anthony." You hoped he heard the plea, his thumb made circles in your inner thigh but never touching where you wanted him the most, " baby.." you buried your face in the crook of his neck and even so, you could hear the smile that crossed him, cocky and devilish.

" Say it wifey, say it nicely with your sweet mouth." He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you back to face him, eyes locked as his head leaned down, his darted his tongue, pink and wet, the wonders he could did with that, he licked your one nipple while the other was tucked between his two fingers, pressing them together and you screamed, almost embarrassed but Anthony liked that, he always did.

" What's the word ? " He looked up smugly, pressing the tip of his nose to your nip, a smile quirking up. Fuck you Anthony!

Your brain short circuited as he tickled more and more and it became too much to bear.

" Plea... please baby, please, please —" he heard the plea and his mouth opened, taking in your soft flesh and humming in delight, kneading the other so it didn't miss his attention. He wasn't biased when it came to your body, giving everything his full attention and torment. You threw your head back at the sensation that vibratated in your body.

You grabbed his hand that glided on your bare thigh to guide him to touch you where you needed him the most, his teeth nibbed, not harder but enough to make your eyes watery as he slapped your hand away.

" You get the mallet, I get what I want, win win Viscountess." He kissed your cheek open mouthed and his desire was pressing hard against you.

" Fuck me." You said, flushed and dazed and Anthony eye's widened before he was back to play all lord and smug.

" You always order me so." He bit his lower lip but you had enough, fuck pall mall, fuck Anthony bridgerton, yes fuck him. Now.

" Fuck me Anthony! " You almost cried, Anthony leaned further, his forehead touching yours as he whispered,

" I wouldn't be able to sto—" don't stop, then.

You kissed him hard and soft, like fireworks wrecking your brain and you tongue traced his lower lip, intoxication wasted you.

He moaned and a strangled noise that you trapped in your mouth escaped, right from his throat.

His length was pressed against your thigh and it was warm and vibrating. You swallowed like a Virgin damsel.

Anthony looked at you, not breaking the fire that was blazing between your souls as he pulled it out his erection and there, angry red tip, sticky with pre cum was buzzing to be touched and loved and he looked up in delight when your eyes widened, all of the times, it didn't matter, it baffled you just the same.

You touched the tip and he shivered at the contact, his cock gave a twist and lurked fir more.

" Do you see ? " He was panting, shaking with his words as if he would fall if he didn't hold his breath, " see it ?! How much I burn for you, how much I want you ? " He shaked his head and touched his tip to your belly, soft and burning.

" No." He laughed humourlessly, his hand pushing your body to lie down on your back and you followed, taking a huge breath as Anthony grabbed your dangling ankle in a yank, bringing it around his neck.

He then kissed your knuckles softly, whsipering sweet nothings tenderly in your bones.

" I would give you anything my sweet love, you just have to ask...mallet ? I would give you my soul if you had asked. Anything for my baby love " He said, you felt your body tremor as he teased his tip at your insides, Anthony inhaled sharply as he entered you, warm and slick as oil. he entwined your fingers together.

" So good...so good for me baby." He moaned as he soft thrusted once, twice and until you were numb for anything, his words were halo in the dark, beaming silvery glow and then came one hard push and you arched your back as the pain waved in pleasure.

" Anthony..." You moaned, " oh god ! " Your words mingled in blasphemy and Anthony smiled in victory, pushing harder and harder as your hips rocked and roll.

" Say my name...say it." He demanded, your nails gripping at his shoulder so hard that it would scar, he liked it.

" Anthony...oh lord... Anthony." You screamed and chanted and you believed he heard the worship, the fate you had in him, and it didn't matter if anyone listened, let them, you thought, Anthony was a force to be reckoned with, a storm you never minded to be wrecked in. A beak of sweat glided from his forehead and dropped on your belly.

He was still pushing in a angle that had you seeing stars and cosmic love, he bend down, licking it, tongue gliding across your skin, and sniffing, taking in everything your offered.

He wanted all of you.

" I will fill you up with our baby, next time don't go hunting for mallet in midnight...it's so cold Darling, i would have to tie you up," He kissed your stomach bump, " and would carry you around everywhere." He said in dreamily haze that soon took over your lids.

The only sounds were erotic slapping of skin against skin and shuddering breaths, and he fastened his movements as a war cry took him over like a devil.

You head was thrown back as everything collapsed and grew again, bit by bit. Your eyelids drooped and a muffled cry came from you and then it was Anthony as he came in warm fizzy juice. Your felt the knot inside you uncoil and something loose inside you, uncorked as your juices mingled like your souls.

He pushed one more time, he always did that and then he collapsed next to you, satisfied, kissing your already bruised neck sweetly.

" Wouldn't you like that mama ? " He chorused and you laughed like a drunk, you would, a daughter with Anthony's eyes and smile, you smiled at the thought.

" Let's clean you up and take you to bed my lady." Anthony picked you, kissing you again as you giggled, he then grabbed the cloak and covered your body against the cold, you were dazed but not quite forgotten, you eyes searched for the war prize. Your mouth fell open, second time in a very same night.

" Where's the mallet ? " You narrowed your eyes at the stock of pink and blue and yellow but the black wasn't there, perhaps a trick of light.

Anthony followed your eyes and went closer, your arms wrapped around his shoulder and there, beneath the shadows was a parchment, rich and fresh.

Anthony picked it up with one hand, the other keeping you steady in his arms.

You saw the lanky words that belonged to none other than Mr. Bridgerton.

" Damn you Colin! " You growled as the mockful apology was scribbled for stealing the black mallet.

Anthony perched his lips at the heist but smiled when your whining eyes met his.

" I am going to whoop his ass and get you the mallet baby." He said, and you knew he will.

Victory indeed.

_________________________________________

Uhm Benedict bridgerton next ? Send in request ladies <3

861 notes · View notes

reidmarieprentiss · 3 months ago

Text

Lost in Translation: Prologue

Summary: A college student (reader) forms a deep bond with a young professor, Spencer Reid, over weekly study sessions in the library. After months of building a friendship, they share a night together, only for the student to be left alone, Spencer gone without a word.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst, backstory, mild smut (18+)

Warnings/Includes: non-descriptive smut (18+), talks of sex, alcohol, professor/student relationship (but it's Spencer and he's 18 like his students), being used for sex, loss of virginity, (un)requited feelings, no happy ending for this part

Word count: 8.6k

a/n: new story just dropped lol -- wrote so fucking fast and not edited at all sorryyyy

main masterlist part one part two part three part four

Being a wonder kid, Spencer Reid’s youth was one of isolation. Growing up too young, too smart, too awkward—too everything to really fit in—made life difficult. He navigated a world where his intelligence placed him far beyond his peers, yet his age kept him at arm’s length from those who might understand him better. It wasn’t until he began teaching an engineering course while working on his PhD at eighteen that he finally felt a flicker of that belonging.

Standing in front of an auditorium full of undergraduates, Spencer finally experienced something akin to acceptance. The students, many only a few years older than him, loved the fresh, youthful energy he brought to their 8 a.m. class. For the first time, they weren’t learning from a middle-aged professor droning on about equations but from someone who felt like one of them. Spencer’s lectures were passionate, and he brought concepts to life in ways that made the subject not only digestible but genuinely fun.

It didn't hurt that he was handsome either; that soft hair, those gentle brown eyes framed by glasses, and the earnest way he smiled—all of it made more than a few students swoon over him at one point or another. Spencer, of course, remained oblivious to the dreamy stares and flirtatious comments.

Despite his newfound sense of belonging in the classroom, Spencer didn’t really hang out with anyone. He remained somewhat of an enigma—attending his own study groups, tutoring off and on, and sometimes grabbing lunch with faculty who treated him more like an adorable novelty than a colleague. He was used to it by then, that feeling of floating in between worlds.

But one day, after a particularly engaging lecture on applied mechanics, a student named Jasper approached him. Jasper was bold, with a confident walk and a grin that suggested they weren’t afraid to push boundaries. “Hey, Professor Reid,” they said casually, leaning against the edge of the lecture podium.

“Oh, uh, hi,” Spencer replied, caught slightly off guard as he scrambled to gather his things. He was never quite sure how to handle the one-on-one interactions with students that felt too friendly, too casual. “Did you have a question about the lecture?”

Jasper laughed and shook their head. “No, actually, I was just thinking... Me and my roommates are throwing a party this weekend, and I was wondering if you’d wanna come? You know, kick back, meet some people... No physics or equations, promise.”

Spencer blinked, processing the invitation like a computer struggling to boot up. A party? With students? It felt... like an odd concept, but one that piqued his interest in a way nothing had before. He’d never really had a social invitation like this—especially not one involving people close to his own age. The idea was exhilarating, and for a moment, Spencer could almost feel what it might be like to be just another young adult, rather than the kid-genius-teacher everyone knew him as.

“Really?” Spencer’s eyes lit up, his grin boyish and genuine. “That sounds great, actually! Should I, um... should I bring anything? Snacks? Drinks? I can... figure something out.”

Jasper shook their head, laughter spilling out at how adorably sincere he was being. “No, no, don’t worry about it,” they said, waving off his concern. “Just bring yourself, cutie.” With a teasing wink and a quick flick of their wrist, they slipped a small note with their address into Spencer’s hands. And then, with that same confident stride, Jasper turned and walked away, leaving Spencer to stand there, flushed and stunned, staring down at the address in his palm like it was some secret code to a new world he’d been waiting forever to explore.

—

Spencer stood outside the house, his nerves and excitement mingling as he took in the scene. The address Jasper had given him led him to a lively place: music thumping loudly enough to rattle the windows, laughter spilling out through the open front door, and the warm glow of lights casting playful shadows on the lawn. People were milling around everywhere—huddled in small circles, raising drinks to one another, dancing, and talking loudly over the music. It was the kind of scene Spencer had seen in movies but never really experienced in real life.

Taking a deep breath, he steeled his nerves and stepped inside. He immediately felt out of place in his neat button-down shirt and slacks, compared to the casual party attire of those around him. But he was here, and he was determined to enjoy it. As he made his way through the crowded entryway, Spencer's eyes were wide, absorbing every detail—the smell of popcorn and alcohol mixing in the air, the flashing lights, the loud music, and the laughter. He weaved through groups of students, dodging stray elbows and trying to make eye contact with anyone who might seem familiar.

However, after a few failed attempts at small talk and realizing that almost everyone he knew was either preoccupied or didn’t recognize him outside the classroom setting, Spencer’s excitement dimmed a bit. He found himself gravitating towards a quieter corner of the living room, eventually sinking into the soft, worn leather of a couch, trying to look relaxed but not too out of place. He sat there, half-heartedly holding a cup of soda someone had pressed into his hand earlier, unsure of what to do next. Every now and then, a familiar face would pass by, and he’d offer a polite wave or smile, but nothing stuck.

The longer he sat, the more he felt like an observer looking through glass, disconnected from the easy laughter and carefree movements around him. He sighed inwardly, wondering if coming to this party was such a great idea after all. But as he settled back into his seat, he heard an enthusiastic voice shout above the noise.

“Professor Reid!”

He barely had time to look up before Jasper dropped down beside him on the couch, their presence as warm and electrifying as a flash of lightning. They were so close that the entire side of their body pressed against Spencer's, hip to shoulder, the sudden contact sending a warm jolt through his skin. Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise, and he couldn't help the slight smile that pulled at the corner of his lips.

“Hey!” he greeted, his voice louder than usual to be heard over the music but still tinged with that inherent awkwardness that never quite left him in social situations. He noticed the slight flush in Jasper’s cheeks, their eyes bright and relaxed from the party vibe.

“I thought you were gonna be a no-show,” Jasper teased, leaning in so that their mouth was close to Spencer's ear, their voice buzzing through him. “You seemed kinda nervous when I invited you.”

“N-no, not at all!” Spencer said quickly, though his laugh betrayed his nerves. “I was... just... you know, trying to, uh, soak it all in.”

“Well,” Jasper drawled, dragging out the word like they were savoring it, “now that you're here, we should make sure you have a good time. Can’t have my favorite professor looking all lonely in the corner.” They flashed him that teasing smile, the one that Spencer had come to recognize as Jasper's signature charm, and for a moment, Spencer forgot about the crowded room and the strangers dancing around him.

“Yeah,” he nodded, feeling a bit more relaxed, the warmth from Jasper’s touch making the party seem a little less intimidating. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

That night, Spencer had no idea how things would unfold. What started as casual chatter on that couch quickly transformed into something more charged, more intimate. Jasper had a way of making Spencer feel seen—really seen—and as they talked, leaning into each other, the lines between conversation and flirtation blurred until they no longer existed at all. Eventually, the touches grew longer, more intentional, and Spencer felt his breath catch when Jasper’s fingers brushed against the back of his neck, pulling him closer until their lips finally met.

It was Spencer’s first kiss, and it was exhilarating and nerve-wracking all at once. He was clumsy at first, feeling every ounce of his inexperience and fearing that he was doing everything wrong. But Jasper was patient, guiding him with slow, teasing movements until Spencer’s hesitations melted into something fervent and desperate. They broke apart, breathless and flushed, and before he knew it, Jasper was pulling him up, leading him through the crowded party, down a narrow hallway, and into a bedroom.

There, it happened—the fumbling of clothes, the whispered instructions and reassurances. Spencer's heart pounded in his chest, the nerves and adrenaline mixing with a primal kind of desire he’d never felt before. Jasper seemed to know exactly what they were doing, leading and coaxing Spencer through the motions, and for once, he wasn’t overthinking, wasn’t caught in the spiral of his own mind. He let go, lost in the sensations of touch, taste, and pleasure as he experienced intimacy for the first time.

When it was over, Spencer lay on his back, panting, feeling a mix of awe and disbelief wash over him. He was almost scared to speak, to ask what this all meant. But before he could say anything, Jasper sat up and smiled, giving Spencer a quick, almost dismissive pat on the arm.

“That was fun, Professor,” Jasper said with a playful grin that lacked the intimacy they'd shared moments before. “But I’m gonna get some sleep now. Thanks for, you know, joining in on the fun tonight.”

Spencer sat up, a little dazed and trying to process the sudden shift. He nodded, feeling a strange lump in his throat, and muttered a soft, “Yeah, sure. Thanks... for inviting me.” There was no animosity in Jasper’s tone, but it was clear the night had come to its end. Spencer gathered his clothes, dressed quickly, and slipped out of the room, his head spinning with a thousand thoughts. He walked through the party once more, though he felt almost invisible now, slipping out the front door into the cool night air.

The next class was excruciatingly awkward for Spencer. He’d gone over the lecture material several times, but nothing could prepare him for the moment when Jasper walked in, took a seat right in the middle of the room, and gave him an easy smile like nothing had happened. Spencer struggled to maintain eye contact and found himself stumbling over his words more than usual. He felt exposed, raw, like everyone in that room somehow knew what had happened between them.

But Jasper was unbothered, unfazed—completely casual. It was as if that night was just another blip on their radar, a moment to be shared and then forgotten. And perhaps that was the point. As the days went on, Spencer realized that to Jasper, and probably to many others, it was just another night—no strings, no lingering feelings, just a moment of pleasure and then moving on.

The realization was strange for Spencer. He couldn't help but question if that was just what sex was—casual, meaningless, but a great way to blow off steam. It felt anticlimactic to think that something so intimate was treated so carelessly, but maybe that was the reality. For all his intellect, this was an area Spencer had little experience in, and he found himself trying to adjust to this new perspective. Maybe this was just the way people did things, and maybe that night with Jasper was simply the start of understanding what it meant to live a life that wasn’t dictated by equations or theories, but by messy, imperfect human experiences.

—

The library was packed with students hunched over textbooks, fingers flying across keyboards, and whispered conversations about study guides. You were already on edge, the stress of your final exam making every little noise seem louder, every empty table harder to find. You hugged your books to your chest, eyes darting around for any free spot, your mind already buried in the formulas and concepts you needed to cram before tomorrow.

Then, without warning, you collided with a solid body as you turned a corner. Your books tumbled out of your grip, scattering across the polished floor. “Shit!” you blurted out, the curse escaping before you could hold it back. “Sorry!” You dropped down immediately to pick up your books, your face burning with embarrassment.

Just as you did, so did the person you’d run into, and the next thing you knew, there was a dull thud as your foreheads collided with a painful smack. You jerked back, clutching your head, eyes watering from the sudden sharp sting.

“Ow,” the guy groaned, rubbing his forehead. He winced, but there was a hint of a laugh behind the pain, a softness in his voice that made your embarrassment double.

“Fuck, my bad,” you stammered, feeling utterly mortified. “I’m so clumsy.”

The guy chuckled lightly, standing back up as he brushed off his pants. “Me too, it’s alright,” he said. As you looked up, you finally saw who you’d bumped into.

It was him. Professor Reid—the young genius who everyone in your classes seemed to talk about, with rumors that swirled around him like leaves in a storm. The eighteen-year-old PhD who made engineering sound sexy, apparently both in his lectures and in the beds of the more... adventurous students. You’d heard more than one friend gush about how he'd helped them understand a complicated theory in more ways than one, their whispers tinged with admiration and amusement.

And now here he was, standing right in front of you, all tousled curls, warm hazel eyes, and that slightly awkward but undeniably charming smile. The closeness made you realize how tall he was, his lean frame towering over you. You felt a rush of heat creep down your neck, spreading across your skin like wildfire. You’d seen him from afar, of course—catching glimpses of him in lecture halls or around campus—but never up close like this, and he was... so much prettier than you’d expected.

“Are... are you okay?” Professor Reid asked, still rubbing his head but looking at you with a concern that made your stomach flip. He leaned down, grabbing the books you'd dropped before handing them to you, his fingers brushing against yours briefly.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” you mumbled, gripping your books tightly, trying to ignore the fact that your hand was now tingling where he’d touched it. “I just... wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Neither was I,” he admitted, his smile widening a little as he looked at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I guess we're both guilty.”

“Yeah, guess so,” you said, forcing a laugh. God, why was it so hard to speak right now? You mentally cursed yourself for being so flustered. You quickly glanced around, realizing that most of the tables were still full, and suddenly it dawned on you that there were no available places to sit... except for the table behind him.

“Um... do you—do you mind if I sit here?” you asked, gesturing to the table he’d just been standing beside.

He hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the table and then at you, a strange look crossing his face like he was trying to figure something out. Then, with that same awkward but genuine smile, he nodded. “Yeah, of course. It's all yours.”

You thanked him quietly, moving to the chair and settling down, but as you did, you couldn't help but steal another glance at him—those curls falling just right, his long fingers thumbing through his notes as he lingered nearby. And as you opened your books, pretending to focus on studying, you couldn't stop sneaking glances at the very attractive, young professor.

The hour that followed was filled with the gentle rustle of pages turning, pens scratching against paper, and the occasional cough or whisper from other students scattered around the library. But you couldn’t concentrate, not really. Your eyes kept drifting up from your notes to the table across from you, where Professor Reid sat hunched over his books, his focus so intense that you wondered what on earth he could be doing. Every now and then, your gazes would accidentally meet, and you’d look away quickly, your cheeks heating up as if you'd been caught doing something wrong.

You were in the middle of re-reading the same paragraph for the fifth time when you heard his voice break the silence between you. “If you don’t mind me asking,” he began, the soft tone of his voice instantly grabbing your attention, “what course are you studying for?”

Your eyes shot up to meet his, and for a moment, all you could do was blink at him. He was looking at you curiously, genuinely interested, and his expression was kind, almost encouraging. You tucked a stray hair behind your ear and cleared your throat, trying not to let your voice shake as you replied, “Oh, uh, architecture. I’m studying for an exam... final one of the semester.”

“Architecture!” Spencer’s face lit up, and he leaned forward slightly, his eyes sparkling with excitement. It was like you’d just told him the most fascinating thing in the world, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way he seemed so genuinely enthusiastic. “That’s great! I’ve always thought architecture was such a beautiful blend of art and science—it’s like engineering for the soul, you know? There’s so much math involved, but it’s all to create something tangible, something that can change the way people experience space. And the way architecture has evolved over time? It’s like a living timeline of human innovation!”

He continued to ramble, moving from modern skyscrapers to the ancient marvels of Rome, describing the symmetry of cathedrals and the beauty of brutalism. The passion in his voice made every word seem like a story, and you sat there, leaning your chin on your hand, utterly captivated by the way he spoke. It was clear he loved to share knowledge, to connect different ideas, to see how everything fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

You found yourself smiling wider and wider, nodding along as he spoke, absorbing everything he said not because you needed to know it for your exam, but because he made it all sound so alive.

“Sorry,” he said suddenly, laughing softly as he realized he’d been talking nonstop for quite a while. He leaned back in his chair, a slight flush in his cheeks. “I tend to... ramble a bit. Especially when it’s something interesting. I hope I’m not distracting you.”

“Not at all,” you assured him quickly, shaking your head. “Actually... I liked listening to you.”

He seemed surprised by that, his eyebrows raising slightly. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you said, meeting his eyes and offering a shy smile. “You, um... you make it all sound really exciting. It’s nice.”

“Oh, I’m glad,” Spencer smiled, a genuine, soft smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. For a moment, there was a comfortable silence, the kind that lingered like a shared secret. You wanted to say more, to keep the conversation going, to ask him about the things he was passionate about. But before you could find the right words, Spencer glanced down at his watch and began gathering his books.

“I, uh, should get going,” he said, a slight note of regret in his voice. “Lots of things to prepare for—classes and, um... you know, life things.” He gave an awkward laugh, and slung his bag over his shoulder, pausing for a moment as if he were about to say something else, but then just smiled instead. “It was really nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady and casual, despite the fact that your heart was pounding harder than it should have been. He nodded, gave you one last shy smile, and turned to leave, weaving through the tables and shelves of books until he disappeared from view.

You watched him go, the way he held himself with that slight awkwardness, his long stride taking him quickly out of the library. And as soon as he was gone, you slumped back in your chair, letting out a breath.

For a fleeting moment, you felt hopeful that you might run into him again, that maybe you’d have another one of those conversations that felt easy and exciting all at once. But then you remembered the stories—the whispers about how Professor Reid often slept with students, how it was no big deal to him, just casual fun. And suddenly, you felt foolish for reading anything more into his friendliness. What if he’d only started talking to you because he was trying to woo you into bed?

You couldn’t deny that he was attractive—very attractive—but if all he saw in you was another potential fling, then maybe it was better not to get your hopes up. After all, Spencer Reid wasn’t like other guys. He was brilliant, handsome, and, from what you’d heard, had more than his share of admirers. You shook your head, trying to brush away the pang of disappointment and return your focus to your notes.

Still, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t quite shake the image of his warm smile or the sound of his voice. And a part of you—just a small part—hoped that maybe, just maybe, there was more to Spencer Reid than the rumors said.

—

You were rushing, nerves jangling through your body like alarm bells. You were running late—really late—and all you could think about was getting to your exam on time. In your panic, you didn’t see the corner coming, your eyes glued to your watch as you cursed yourself for oversleeping. You rounded the bend with way too much speed, and before you could react, you collided hard into someone else. The force knocked you off balance, sending you sprawling to the ground, your books and papers flying in a wild scatter across the floor.

“Oh my!” came a startled voice. “I am so, so sorry, I was just looking for—oh, hi.”

You winced as you propped yourself up on your elbows, but the moment you looked up, your heart sank and soared all at once. There, standing over you, was none other than Professor Reid. He was staring down at you with wide eyes, his expression a mixture of surprise and concern, and his mouth opened as if he wasn't sure whether to apologize or help you up first.

“Oh my God,” you muttered under your breath, scrambling to get back up, your face flushing hot. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going, I just—”

“No, no, please, don’t apologize,” Spencer said quickly, his voice soft but urgent as he bent down to your level. “That was my fault, I wasn’t paying attention either.” He reached out to help you up, his hands gentle as he grasped your arm and steadied you, making sure you didn’t trip over yourself as you stood. “Are you okay?” he asked, eyes darting over you to make sure you weren’t hurt. “I didn’t, um... hurt you or anything, did I?”

“No, I’m fine, really,” you said, though you could feel your whole body tingling from where he touched you, the warmth of his hand lingering even as he let go. You brushed off your pants, trying to regain any semblance of composure despite the fact that you were now not only late but completely flustered.

Spencer began gathering your scattered books and papers, handing them to you with the same focused attention he gave to everything else. He was quick, efficient, but still careful, making sure to line up the pages neatly before passing them back into your hands. “Here you go,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “You, um... dropped a few things.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking the books from him and clutching them to your chest. And then you remembered. “Oh my God, my exam!” You looked at your watch again, the numbers glaring back at you as if taunting your lateness. “I... I have to go, I’m so sorry, Professor Reid, but I really need to—”

“Wait, wait,” Spencer interrupted, a spark of understanding lighting up his eyes. “Is it in the main lecture hall? The big one across campus?”

“Yeah,” you nodded frantically. “I have, like, five minutes to get there or I'm screwed.”

“Then we’d better hurry,” he said, a determined smile breaking across his face. “Come on, I’ll walk with you.”

“Y-you don’t have to do that, I mean—”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Spencer insisted, already starting to lead the way. “I’m heading that direction anyway.” You both knew that wasn’t true but then, with a quick glance back at you, he added, “Besides, it’s the least I can do after, you know... knocking you over.”

You felt a laugh bubble up in your throat, despite the chaos of the moment. “Okay, thanks,” you said, falling into step beside him. It was a strange, surreal thing—running across campus with Professor Reid at your side, his long legs matching your frantic pace. And even though you were still panicking about being late, there was something oddly comforting about his presence, like the whole situation was slightly less catastrophic just because he was there.

“Don’t worry,” he said between breaths, casting a reassuring glance your way as you both hurried down the path. “You’ll make it. I’ll make sure you get there on time.”

You made it to your exam with barely a minute to spare, heart still racing from sprinting across campus and the whirlwind encounter with Professor Reid. As you settled into your seat, your mind was a jumbled mess of nerves, exhaustion, and the lingering thrill of having Spencer Reid rush beside you, determined to get you there on time. The reality of having bumped into him—literally—and seeing his concerned, handsome face up close again was a distraction you struggled to push away. But as the exam papers were passed out and you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus, you felt a small swell of determination rising within you.

It wasn’t just about passing the exam anymore. No, it was about doing well—really well—because a part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d run into Professor Reid again. And if you did, and if he asked you how your exam had gone, you wanted to be able to look him in those warm, interested eyes and say, “I crushed it.”

And so you put everything into it. Every formula, every theory, every bit of knowledge you’d crammed into your brain over the past few weeks. The hours passed in a blur of scribbled answers and focused thought, and by the time you handed in your paper, you felt a surge of pride and relief. You knew you’d done your best—maybe even better than your best.

—

The new term had settled into a predictable rhythm for you: classes in the morning, work in the afternoons, and then hours spent in the library for some uninterrupted study time. By the third week, you found a comforting routine in the silence and solitude of your favorite corner, tucked away but not too far from the bustle of the main floor. It was your place to dive into note-taking, to tackle assignments, and to escape from the chaos of student life. And though your schedule was tiring, there was something satisfying about the repetition—class, work, library, sleep, repeat.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and you were in the thick of your study session, textbooks spread across the table, fingers tapping absently against your highlighter as you scanned the pages. You were deep into a chapter on sustainable building design when a shadow fell over your table, and you heard a voice.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?”

You looked up, and immediately, your breath caught in your throat. You didn't need to see his face to know who it was, but the confirmation was still enough to make your heart skip a beat. Professor Reid stood there with that same friendly, slightly awkward smile, his bag slung over his shoulder and a stack of books in his arms.

“Professor Reid,” you greeted with a smile of your own, trying not to let on how quickly your pulse was racing. “Of course, go ahead.”

“Thanks,” he said, his eyes crinkling in that gentle way as he pulled out the chair across from you. He sat down, settling his things on the table with a soft thud, and for a moment, you were both just... there, in the kind of companionable silence that libraries are made for. Spencer pulled out his own work, a notebook and a pile of papers, and began arranging them neatly before him, his fingers tapping thoughtfully against the edge of a binder.

“Preparing for midterms?” he asked after a moment, glancing up at you with a tilt of his head, genuinely interested.

“Yeah,” you sighed, giving a little shrug as you gestured to your scattered materials. “Trying to get ahead, make sure I don’t fall behind. You know how it is.”

“I do,” he laughed softly, his gaze drifting to the open book in front of you. “I’m writing one, actually. One of the joys of being on the other side of the classroom.”

“Wow,” you said, the laughter bubbling up before you could stop it. “That... actually sounds like way more pressure than taking one.”

“It can be,” Spencer admitted, a lighthearted grin playing on his lips. “I always end up overthinking it, trying to make the questions fair but challenging, relevant but not too obscure. It’s like creating a puzzle that someone’s actually going to solve.”

You nodded along, smiling at how earnest he was. “That sounds... kind of like how I feel about taking exams, actually. Trying to solve the puzzle without knowing if you even have all the right pieces.”

Spencer leaned back in his chair, his eyes lighting up as he considered that. “Exactly,” he said, like he’d never thought of it that way before. “It’s a lot like that. But the fun part is watching the different ways people solve it, the different approaches and interpretations. It’s... fascinating, really.”

As he spoke, you couldn’t help but watch him, his hands moving expressively as he talked, the way he was so animated about his work. You’d heard him lecture from afar, but this—this was different. There was something more intimate about being across from him like this, sharing space, sharing thoughts.

You smiled, leaning forward a bit. “Sounds like you really enjoy it.”

“I do,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost reflective. “It’s nice to be able to help people understand things, to make learning something enjoyable instead of a chore.”

You nodded, and for a while, the two of you sat there, working side by side, an unspoken connection forming over the shared silence and occasional exchanges. And though you were both absorbed in your own work, you knew now that this wouldn’t be the last time you’d find yourselves at the same table, sharing the same quiet space amidst the noise of college life.

Every Thursday for the rest of the term, your routine became intertwined with Spencer’s. You’d meet in your usual spot in the library, setting up your notes and books, and he'd arrive not long after, dropping into the chair across from you like he belonged there. And for hours, you’d sit together—sometimes in comfortable silence, sometimes falling into deep conversations about classes, life, and everything in between. It was almost comical when, after weeks of these meetings, he finally looked up at you, eyes wide with realization, and laughed softly.

“You know,” he said, smiling sheepishly, “I don’t think I ever asked you your name.”

You couldn’t help but laugh too, blurting it out in a rush, and he repeated it back to you like he was savoring the sound of it. And just like that, something clicked into place. He’d ask about your exams, your grades, always genuinely interested in how you were doing. You, in turn, asked about his lectures and the classes he was teaching, and he would share his thoughts on the challenges of balancing students’ needs, all with that passion and depth you had come to expect from him.

Your friendship blossomed, but it was always contained to those Thursday evenings at the library. It was a boundary neither of you seemed to cross—studying together, talking, connecting, but never making plans outside of the walls of academia. And that was fine, for a time. But as the end of your freshman year loomed closer and summer break approached, the thought of leaving and not seeing Spencer every week weighed on you more than you’d expected.

One Thursday, when you could barely focus on your notes because of it, you found yourself fidgeting, chewing on your pen cap as you tried to summon the courage to speak. Eventually, you couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“Spencer?” you asked, your voice quiet over the hum of the library around you.

“Mhm?” he responded, not looking up from the papers he was reading through but giving a small nod to show he was listening.

You swallowed, nerves bubbling up, but pushed through. “Would you, um, want to come over after exams end? You know, to... say goodbye to the year?”

Spencer paused, his pen freezing mid-note, and he looked up, surprise flashing across his features. He hadn’t expected that, and you could see the wheels turning in his mind as he considered your offer. The idea of spending time together outside the library, beyond your weekly tradition, was both tempting and concerning for him. He’d grown fond of your friendship, of the way you made him laugh and didn’t expect anything from him except a shared space and genuine conversation. But, deep down, a part of him still feared being used like so many others had.

Yet, there was something earnest in your eyes, something that made him think maybe, just maybe, you really did just want to hang out. To be friends, and nothing more. He let out a small breath, nodding slowly. “Sure,” he said, offering a tentative smile. “What did you have in mind?”

Your cheeks flushed, and you hoped the heat wasn’t too obvious as you scratched the back of your neck, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “Uh, I didn’t plan that far ahead,” you admitted with a nervous laugh. “Maybe... a movie? Just something casual.”

“Casual,” he repeated, almost as if testing the word out, and then his smile widened, a bit of relief and something like excitement brightening his eyes. “Yeah. A movie sounds good.”

And just like that, you found yourself looking forward to what might be the start of something new—something beyond Thursday study sessions, something more than a quiet routine.

The Friday after final exams, you paced your dorm room, nerves buzzing through you like electricity. You'd barely slept since inviting Spencer over—second-guessing every detail, every word you’d said. But now, as you checked your phone again, you reminded yourself that it was just a movie, just two friends hanging out to say goodbye to the year. Nothing more. You tried to convince yourself that it was normal to be this excited.

And right on time—exactly at 7 p.m.—you heard a knock at your door. Spencer's punctuality didn’t surprise you, but it did send a rush of excitement through your veins. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, before walking over to the door and opening it.

There he stood, dressed in casual jeans and a plain button-up shirt, looking somehow both effortlessly put together and adorably uncertain all at once. His curls were a bit messy, his glasses slightly askew, and he clutched a bag of something in his hands, which he immediately offered up to you with a slightly bashful smile.

“Um, I wasn’t sure if I should bring something, so I, uh, brought snacks?” he said, holding up the bag like it was a peace offering. You could see a mix of candy, chips, and a few other treats inside.

You grinned, stepping aside to let him in. “You didn’t have to bring anything, but thank you—that’s perfect.” You felt a wave of relief wash over you as he stepped into your room, glancing around with curious eyes as he took in the posters on the wall, the books scattered on your desk, the remnants of your rushed packing for summer break.

“Your roommate left already?” he asked, looking over at the other, empty half of the room.

“Yeah, they went home the day after finals,” you said, trying not to sound too relieved about having the room to yourself. “So it’s just us.”

“Just us,” Spencer repeated, the words hanging in the air with a nervous tinge in his voice. He smiled softly and set the bag of snacks on your bed, taking off his shoes and settling in as if he were almost comfortable—almost.

“So,” you began, moving to sit beside him, your nerves starting to subside as you relaxed into the familiar presence of your study partner turned friend. “I thought we could just pick something light to watch, you know? Nothing too serious.”

“Light sounds good,” Spencer nodded, pushing his glasses up his nose, and for a moment, there was that playful glimmer in his eyes—the same one you’d seen during your library sessions, when a joke or comment would catch him off guard.

You leaned forward to pick up the remote, scrolling through the options until you landed on a few comedies and light-hearted movies. You tossed out a few suggestions, and eventually, the two of you settled on a movie neither of you had seen before—some easygoing, feel-good flick that you knew would make you both laugh and not require too much thinking. You hit play, and as the opening credits rolled, you sank back into the pillows, side by side with Spencer.

There was a comforting quiet between you, a sense of familiarity even in the newness of the situation. And as the movie played and the two of you slowly started sharing the snacks he’d brought, laughing at the jokes on-screen, you felt that same feeling you always did on Thursday nights—the calm certainty that, somehow, this was exactly where you were meant to be.

The movie had been on for about thirty minutes, and both of you were already lost in the silly over-the-top humor. It wasn’t long before the playful energy from the screen found its way into your own conversation, and you couldn’t resist teasing Spencer a little every time he laughed at something you found particularly cheesy.

“Oh, come on,” you grinned, nudging his shoulder with yours. “I can’t believe you’re actually laughing at this. I thought you had... you know, a refined sense of humor.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Hey, I can appreciate a good joke, okay? Even the dumb ones. It’s called versatility,” he said, giving you a sidelong glance before popping a piece of candy into his mouth.

“Uh-huh,” you said, leaning closer as if you were about to share a secret. “You’re just pretending to like it so you don’t hurt my feelings.”

He chuckled, turning to face you, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him as his knee bumped lightly against yours. “Trust me,” he said, voice low with that familiar teasing lilt, “I’m not pretending. I genuinely think this movie is... absurdly entertaining.”

“Absurdly entertaining, huh?” you said, narrowing your eyes as you leaned in just a little more, close enough to see the golden flecks in his hazel eyes. “I think that’s code for ‘terrible but in a fun way.’”

“Okay, maybe it is a little terrible,” he admitted, laughing openly now. “But in the best way.”

The lightness in his voice, the ease with which you bantered—it felt effortless. And then, suddenly, there was a shift. His laughter trailed off as he looked at you, his gaze lingering just a beat longer than usual. Your faces were so close, your knees brushing, your shoulders almost touching, and you noticed the way he was looking at you—like he was trying to decide something.

Spencer’s mind was a whirlpool of conflicting thoughts. He wanted to flirt, to let the playful banter turn into something more, but a voice in his head reminded him of past experiences—where interest in him was just a prelude to sex, a quick thrill before moving on. He didn’t want that with you. You were different—kind, genuine, and he didn’t want to ruin whatever you had by crossing a line.

And ever since meeting you, Spencer hadn’t slept with anyone. Your study sessions, conversations, and simple presence filled a void in him; being around you was all the release he needed. Now, sitting beside you, he just wanted to keep this intact, afraid that taking a step further might shatter what he cherished so much.

Little did Spencer know, your own thoughts were tangled with doubt. You'd been excited for this night ever since he said yes, but now, sitting so close to him, you wondered if he'd only come over for the same reason he might have gone to others in the past: sex.

The whispers around campus about Professor Reid’s quick, casual flings were hard to ignore. Reconciling that with the sweet, earnest man beside you felt impossible, but still, the thought gnawed at you. What if, to him, you were just another fleeting encounter before summer ended?

You wanted to believe that your Thursday study sessions meant more than a prelude to something casual, but the worry hung there, making your hand pause before reaching for the snacks. What if you were misreading everything? And if this was just casual to him, could you handle it, or would you rather preserve what you had now?

You glanced at Spencer, who was focused on the movie but stealing nervous glances your way. It was clear he was treading carefully, and you could feel the irony—both of you caught on the edge, too afraid to find out what the other truly wanted.

When the movie ended, the credits rolling silently on the screen, neither of you moved to turn it off or get up. There was an unspoken tension in the room, a pull that made it hard for either of you to suggest that this night should end.

“Do you want to watch another movie?” you blurted out just as Spencer said, “I really like hanging out with you.”

You both paused, your words colliding mid-air, and then burst into laughter. It was awkward, sure, but it was the kind of awkward that felt endearing, pulling you closer instead of apart. The kind that made you grateful for the comfortable silence that followed, where you both sat smiling like fools.

“Another movie sounds great,” he said, the grin on his face not fading, and you nodded in agreement. You both took a break—stretching, refreshing snacks, and using the restroom. When you returned to your dorm room, you found Spencer sitting more toward the middle of your bed, and when you slid in next to him, your bodies ended up pressed tightly together, the heat of his side warming yours through your clothes. You were hyper-aware of every place where you touched, but neither of you pulled away.

“Your turn to pick,” you said softly, handing him the laptop.

Spencer flipped through the options with focused eyes, and finally, he settled on a film—a foreign romance, its title scrolling across the screen in delicate script. You raised an eyebrow, curious but also a little lost. “Spencer,” you said, trying not to sound too nervous, “I, uh, don’t speak French.”

His eyes met yours, and this time, the way he looked at you was different—more intense, like he was seeing something in you that hadn’t been spoken aloud. It sent a shiver down your spine. “That’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and almost intimate. “I can whisper translate for you... if you don’t mind.”

The idea of Spencer leaning in close, his voice softly whispering translations in your ear as romantic lines played out on the screen, made your heart race in a way you couldn't control. You could practically feel his breath on your neck already, the warmth of his words settling into your skin.

“Okay,” you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper, the word catching on your lips as you tried to keep your composure.

You pressed play, and as the opening scene unfolded, you found yourself sinking deeper into the bed, Spencer’s body comfortably close to yours, and your heart pounding in anticipation of every word he would breathe into the small space between you.

The movie’s soft music and dreamy cinematography made it easy to get lost in its world, but it was Spencer’s voice—low, rich, and soothing—that anchored you. He leaned in, and his breath brushed against your skin as he whispered the translation, his tone low and almost reverent.

“Élise tells her...” he began, his voice wrapping around you like a warm blanket, “‘When I'm near you... everything disappears. The whole world, the sounds, time... there's only you and me.’”

The words hung in the air, and your senses were drawn to the way his lips moved against you as he concentrated on the words. You couldn't help but feel mesmerized by the way he brought the romance to life, the intensity in his whisper making your skin tingle with every syllable.

“Juliet replies...” he continued, not yet noticing how your attention was fully on him now. “‘You are the reason I breathe, Élise. Every beat of my heart... it whispers your name. If I could, I would spend every second of my life looking at you.’”

And that’s exactly what you did now—look at him. His eyes were still on the screen, but there was something in his expression that felt vulnerable, open, as if he wasn’t just translating lines, but baring something deeper, something unspoken between you. You couldn’t resist leaning in just a little closer, every inch of your body hyper-aware of the closeness between you.

“‘Then look at me... and never let me go,’” he whispered, and when he finally turned to meet your gaze, the intensity in his eyes nearly took your breath away. His voice was softer, more intimate, as if he was no longer speaking for the movie characters but for the two of you alone. “‘Because without you, I'm lost. You are my everything.’”

Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as you stared at each other, your faces so close now that you could see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes, the way his breath came out just a bit more quickly. Spencer’s eyes searched yours, and you could see the hesitation in them, the question he didn’t dare ask.

“‘I promise you... never, ever will I let you go,’” he whispered, his voice barely audible, his lips only a breath away. “‘Because I love you... more than anything in the world.’”

Neither of you moved, frozen in that charged space between a word and a touch, every part of you yearning to close the gap as the rest of the world fell away.

The words hung in the air, your shared gaze brimming with something unspoken and heavy. And then, as if on cue, both of you turned your eyes back to the screen, where Élise and Juliet leaned in, their faces close, the tension snapping as they fell into a deep, passionate kiss. The soft sounds of the movie filled the silence between you.

“Do you want me to translate that?” Spencer asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath warm on your cheek. The words were teasing but tentative, laced with a hope that sent a shiver down your spine.

But before he could say anything more, before you could second-guess the pounding of your heart, you closed the space between you. Your lips met his in a sudden, breathless kiss that left no room for doubt or hesitation. The taste of him, soft and warm, was everything you had imagined it would be. You felt Spencer’s sharp inhale, the surprise in his body, but then he melted into you, his mouth moving against yours like it was something he'd been waiting for all along.

His hand came up to cup your cheek, gentle but sure, pulling you closer, and the world disappeared—just like Élise had whispered—leaving only you and him in the electrifying moment of finally letting go.

Deep down, both of you felt that nagging worry—was this just a fleeting moment, a one-time thing? But as your lips moved together, those thoughts slipped away, overwhelmed by the heat of the moment, the desperation in every kiss and touch. Spencer laid you back gently, his hands trembling slightly as he held you, his eyes searching yours for any sign that you wanted to stop. But there was only desire and your verbal confirmation, and so he continued, showing you the skills he’d learned over the past year.

And when the clothes were shed and the vulnerability became all-consuming, you allowed him to take your virginity, holding back that delicate truth out of embarrassment over your own inexperience. You didn’t want him to stop, didn’t want to add more pressure to a moment already so fragile and important to you both. Spencer, in turn, treated you with a reverence that spoke to his genuine care, his every touch slow and deliberate, like he was savoring each second.

It was the most passionate, mind-blowing experience Spencer had ever had. Every gasp, every whispered name, every shared look made it clear why—it was you, and it felt like something more than just sex, something deeper, like he was baring his soul alongside his body. When it was over, the two of you lay tangled together, hearts still racing, bodies wrapped around each other like you could hold the moment in place forever. And in that perfect silence, Spencer’s arms became a haven, and you drifted off to sleep, feeling safe, happy, and loved.

But morning came like a cold shock. You reached out across the bed, seeking his warmth, and found only emptiness. The sheets were cool, and Spencer was gone—no note, no sign of him ever having been there. The joy, the love, the comfort you’d fallen asleep to vanished with the sunrise, leaving behind an aching emptiness and the haunting fear that maybe all your doubts were true.

—

Summer came and went, and though the days were warm and filled with distractions, nothing eased the emptiness Spencer left behind. The pain of waking up to find him gone never faded, and as you returned to campus for your sophomore year, the ache of his absence settled in deeper, an open wound that wouldn’t heal.

You looked for him—hoping to see that familiar face in the library, in a lecture hall, anywhere on campus—but every search ended in disappointment. It was like he’d vanished, leaving not a trace behind. Over the next three years, you went through the motions, diving into your studies and trying to let go of what happened, but the memory of him never left, haunting every quiet moment and making you wonder what you'd done wrong.

The truth was clear to you now: Spencer had used you, filling some void in himself for one night, and then disappearing, leaving a much larger void in your own heart.

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

tag list <333 @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle @cynbx @danielle143 @katemusic @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @laurakirsten0502 @geepinky @mxlviaa @libraprincessfairy @fortheloveofgubler @super-nerd22 @k-illdarlings @softestqueeen @eliscannotdance

507 notes · View notes

zevrra · 3 months ago

Text

JJK—

synopsis: just some random hc’s i have for the men of jjk!

tags: fluff only, the men of jjk, nanami kento, choso kamo, geto suguru, gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, hc’s, short & sweet

creator notes: part 2

nanami !!

— is totally that “i will take care of you in every aspect” guy but i secretly think he’s pretty possessive too

— doesn’t get jealous easily

— flip flops between being a total morning person (on his days off) but the days he has to “work” he’s the opposite

— love/hate relationship with coffee bc he def drinks 8 cups of it every morning and feels gross after he does it

— the epitome of cleanliness and perfect hygiene

— like 100% he uses top of the line shampoo and body washes and after shaves and cologne!!

— ALWAYS smells good and it’s a mix of amber, some kinda wood, and probably something soft like vanilla

— feel like he’s cheap when it comes to stuff for himself but anytime it involves you, he’s buying you the best of the best

— leaves you notes all over the place whether it’s on the fridge, next to your side of the bed, sending flowers to your work space with a note attached, all just to tell you how much he cares and loves you

— willingly works overtime for you :3

choso !!

— sleeps until 4 pm every day

— a true night owl, mans HATES the sun

— feel like he’s super photogenic but hates taking photos unless you’re taking them

— would work any electronic like an elderly man

— “i can’t find the settings on this thing. where is it i’ve been looking for it for 15 minutes!” “it’s right here” “oh. how did you do that?”

— either has no scent at all or smells like iron/cinnamon/or straight up blood im so sorry skshskhkdhsk

— you both match everything from jewelry, especially rings, to outfits

— sleepy eye bags 24/7!!!

— takes a 5 minute shower but sits in the bathroom on his phone watching the loudest videos he can for 45 mins before he gets in

— loves spicy food!!

geto !!

— leaves gifts in your rooms without a word

— is the type to “i saw it and it reminded me of you so i got it”

— loves wholeheartedly. full chest, heart, mind, body, and soul

— willingly hands you his hoodie after he’s done wearing it

— quality time & gift giving is his love language!!

— heavy on quality time, he wants to sit or stand beside you and just coexist 24/7

— matching tattoos and piercings

— scary guard dog bf!!!!

— actually doesn’t mean to be but he kind of loves it a lot when other guys run away from you(him)

— his pet names for you range from “babe” to “stinky” and everything in between

— probably smells like sage & citrus

— he takes the longesssst showers ever and always invites you to them

— let’s you braid his hair, falls asleep every time you do it

gojo !!

— wants to touch you constantly!

— you’re either holding his hand or sitting in his lap anytime you two are together

— loves loves loves hugs

— gossip QUEEN! omg he’s so nosy

— “did you HEAR about this????” and it’s either the most basic information or straight up gossip gold

— always emphasizes the MY in his pet names for you

— “oh my love!” “my darling.” “hmm my princess?”

— a jealous, jealous man >:3

— loves to show you off until someone other than himself looks at you jshsjshk

— is the type of dude who acts all funny and tough in public but the second it’s just the two of you, at home, he wants to be babied and have his back scratched 24/7

— doesn’t tell you when it’s going to be chilly out so he gets to tease you as he hands you his warm jacket

— plans surprise dates all the time

toji !!

— is never caught wearing anything other than sweat pants

— wore a suit once for your first date and then never put it back on

— his love language is probably a mix between physical touch and gift giving

— has a hand always placed on your thigh!!

— his favorite season is winter and when you ask him why he just says he likes the cold

— it probably also has to do with wanting to keep you warm too

— is the type to: “i hate wearing bracelets” “ok ill just take it back” “no fuck you i’m gonna wear it and never take it off”

— literally keeps everything you give him in a box so he doesn’t lose them

— uses 13 and 1 shampoo

— calls you his old lady(affectionate) unironically

— smells like cigarettes and cheap ass beer KSHSKHS

— when he’s actually clean and sober he probably smells more like heavy wood and fire/smoke

— is a massive HEATER when he sleeps and he always sleeps on his back

— sleeps in the nude

459 notes · View notes

velvetreds · 4 months ago

Text

intertwined, sewn together — s. itoshi

wc; 3.3k

cws; fem!reader, brother's best friend, second chance, situationships, angst, fluff, cursing, suggestive i'm sorry whenever i write for sae a demon (shidou) takes over me. PLATONIC RIN X READER OHHH I LOVE HIM SM happy ending!! not proofread.

﹟you and sae are really stupid. especially sae. that's it, that's the fic.

english is not my first language, so i apologise for any mistakes :)

[august 2024.]

sometimes, love is a feeling, or a place. or sometimes it's an action. but today, just for you, love presents itself in the form of sae, five foot eleven, with widened teal eyes, and slightly parted lips, as he stares at you in the drinks aisle of the local convenience store.

"oh, shit," he says. and then he murmurs your name, reverently, like a prayer. you wish he didn't. you want to ask what he's doing here. why here, why now, why is world-famous sae itoshi at a stupid small store at the same time as you, when you're even in spain for only another day. why couldn't he have come tomorrow? or the day after?

[march, 2018.]

"hi," whispers sae itoshi. he's still in his school uniform, even after graduation, and the way he towers over you would almost be intimidating if you hadn't known him for this long. the slight tinge of a smile that had graced his lips before you opened the door — you'd seen it through the peephole — has now widened at the sight of your face.

"what exactly are you doing here, itoshi?" you half-snarl.

he counters your question with his. "what's with the last name?"

you say nothing.

"okay, i get it." he rolls his eyes. "but i came to give you something."

"what?" you stare at him suspiciously. his hands are empty, and he doesn't have any bags or similar items with him either. but then your eyes widen, and a mixture of dread and elation rises up like bile from your gut as one of his hands reaches up to the second button of his uniform. it comes off much easier than you expect, and he places it carefully in your cupped hands. your fingers brush against each other, and he lets the touch linger for a moment too long before he backs away. you're stuttering and stammering, not knowing what to say. "but this—!"

he shrugs. "do with it what you will; throw it away if you want to."

oh.

you've half a mind to run after him, call him back as he turns around to go home. maybe even— your thoughts freeze as he looks back, and there's a cocky grin on his face as his eyes meet yours. "really?"

you stare back at him, a perfect deadpan, before he starts walking towards you again. you don't want to seem too eager — you know that if you dare to look at him right now you'll end up throwing yourself into his arms — so you distract yourself by counting his steps. they're slow, calm, deliberate. everything that's not you right now. but you also know how good he is at faking things — faking this calmness, maybe. and your suspicions are confirmed correct when he uses a trembling hand to angle your head just right, so he can kiss you.

it's nothing special, the kiss that you share, but it's simultaneously everything. you pour all the yearning and passion of the past years into it, and so does he. sae lets his gaze drag over your flushed face one time, slow and tortuous when he pulls away — there is a foreign tenderness in them that you do not quite recognise — before he shakes his head, as if to clear his thoughts. "are you okay?"

"of course," you reply, caught off guard by the overly formal tone. suddenly, this sae is no longer the one who's pulled you into closets and empty classrooms and deserted kitchens, who barely a minute ago had his lips pressed to yours like his life depended on it, who traced hearts across your damp cheekbones with something that could only be defined as love.

he leaves you in the dust of stolen kisses and secret touches and his heart cradled in your hands, but he does not tell you that last part. of course not.

the button you're holding is the one closest to the heart. surely it's not what it means though, right? it has to be a prank or something, you tell yourself, but you know you're lying to yourself, too. it's small and cold to the touch — light and almost weightless, but it still feels like the weight of the universe is entirely in your palms.

[2005—2011.]

rin is the first — and only — best friend you ever have. he is three and a half (three and eight months! not three and a half!) and he is in the same grade as you, even though you're about a year older. you started school somewhat late for your age, due to being sick — you've never liked being older than the others, but having rin as your friend makes it worth it, you think. he is wide-eyed and full of wonder, and yes he occasionally says some weird things but it's okay because the two of you will be best friends forever.

his older brother, sae is extremely cool. he's almost six and he dominates the kindergarten soccer team. rin wants to be like him.

soon enough, there's no kindergarten team; instead, sae and rin control the field together as they grow older. you're at all their games to cheer on rin — that is, until, you finally really talk to sae. you've met him before, of course, but it's not like either of you have ever said anything to each other. but ten-year-old sae stares down at you, face passive as he holds a lolly out to you. you've seen this ritual maybe a thousand times — sae buying them both lollies on the way home — but you've never been included in it until today.

"what, don't you want one?" he demands, and you shake your head, scrambling up hastily to take it from him with a hurried thanks. he watches you with something almost akin to amusement, and you feel a spark of pride at being acknowledged by the sae itoshi, who is so, so cool.

"did you win?" he asks. sometimes it's a yes, mostly it's a no. you like winning, because occasionally, when you least expect it, he graces you with a rare smile that lights up his usual somber expression.

rin isn't the only reason you frequent soccer practices anymore. sometimes, when he doesn't go, it's just you and sae walking home alone. it's not that you hate rin, no way — he is your best friend, after all — but you like these walks with only sae much more than you'd like to admit.

aged ten, you find out what a crush is. you think maybe you like sae like that.

sae isn't oblivious; he notices it. of course he does. rin does too, but he hides his disgust well. his brother? gross.

[april 2018.]

you haven't seen rin this angry in a while. his relationship with sae has already been strained as of late, not to mention... this.

"fucking bastard," he says through gritted teeth. "who the fuck does he think he is to mess around with you?"

"rin." you reach out to him half-heartedly, but he ignores you, eyes still zeroed in on the button that lies innocently on his bedside table.

"he's not worth losing your shit over like this," he tells you, and you bury your face in the damp sheets again with a half-giggle, half-sob.

"but i miss him."

you hear him groan, before he climbs into bed and wraps an awkward arm around you. rin has never been good at showing physical affection.

"he doesn't deserve you," he says gently. "he's a stupid bitch."

"yeah, but he's my stupid bitch."

"gross, disgusting, fucking ew, can you not talk about my brother like that?"

his reaction makes you laugh, and it lifts the mood, if only a little bit.

"i've liked him for a really long time," you confess.

"i know."

"we spent an entire year going back and forth, doing i don't know what— i feel stupid now."

"i know."

[2017.]

you feel guilty for blowing rin off just to hang out with his brother, but who are you to refuse when sae asks you, of all people?

you're lying on your bed, using a stuffed dragon as a pillow, while your arms are wrapped around a bear. sae is beside you, and he's... staring at you? your head whips around to look at him, and his eyes dart away from your lips.

"what's up, sae?"

"nothing," he hums. the movie drones on in the background, and you know he's lying, and his tongue comes out to wet his lips as he still stares at you.

"y/n."

you tilt your head to one side in lieu of a response.

"come closer," he says, and your heart skips a beat. you know what he's asking of you; you know it won't do rin any justice if you get with the one person he really dislikes right now.

so you shake your head. "but rin—"

"you're dating?"

"no, of course not!"

"you like him?"

"gross—"

"so what's the problem, then? i know you like me." he says it with an easy confidence, the voice of someone self-assured in his allure. he's sure you like him, you realise — not that you don't, but still. and his eyes bore into yours in a way that's hypnotising and so undeniably him that you can't help but move closer.

sae kisses you for the first time that day, one of many more to come over the course of the year. he's equal parts gentle and rough, fingers digging into the skin of your waist even though the way he kisses you is almost shy.

"we should hang out more often," he says as he leaves. the corner of his mouth quirks up, and you know he's talking about something else that's not just hanging out. waving his phone at you, he adds, "text me later."

[june 2018.]

the artificial glow of your phone screen lights up the entire room as you scroll through the old texts between you and sae.

you looked good yesterday.

those girls r hitting on me like i want any1 other than u LMFAO

imy come over??

unbeknownst to you, the brightness wakes up rin behind you; you don't notice until he's reaching blindly for your phone to turn it off, grumbling way too many swears for a sixteen-year-old boy.

"stop thinking of him," he complains sleepily. "it's gross and also pathetic. but mostly gross."

you don't oppose him as he pulls it away from your hands. maybe he's right. maybe you do need to stop.

[march 2020.]

today, you graduate. standing beside rin, you don't tell him about the button tucked neatly in your pocket. you also don't tell him that you think his brother has ruined you, that you think— no, you know you'll never be able to love anyone else like this ever again. you love/miss/hate him so much and it curls around your heart and lungs like blooming flowers, but slowly you are forgetting how to breathe. you ignore them, the flowers die a little faster. rin cuts them out like weeds, too, but sometimes he nicks you in the process. the momentary pain is worse than slowly sinking into death, though, so you let him.

[august 2024.]

"sae," you breathe, and he takes a singular step forward.

"what are you doing here?"

"i'm just, y'know, getting around a bit, travelling here and there," you babble nervously. an anxious, high pitched laugh bubbles out of your throat.

sae has never been one to mince his words, to beat around the bush. so he puts the can of schweppes dry ginger ale back onto the shelf, and comes over to you. "come home with me."

your first instinct is to say no — because what the actual fuck is going on, and why does he expect you to even— sae laughs. "i don't intend to, y'know, get you into my bed tonight."

a cocky grin. "unless that's what you—"

"of course not!" you snap. "what do you want, sae?"

"just wanna catch up," he says, and his smile is downright evil. he knows what effect he has on you, and he's not afraid to exploit it. "just wanna catch up with my favourite girl."

your knees turn to jelly. momentarily, you entertain the thought of running into oncoming traffic.

"i'm only here for two more days," you argue helplessly. you know it's a losing battle either way; it's incredibly difficult to even pretend you don't want to see him again, talk to him again, have things just like they were before. because even if it wasn't the best for you back then, you'd still had him, still gotten to know him and feel him.

"that's long enough, no? tonight, and i'll drive you back to wherever you need to go."

you relent far too quickly; you know that he knows there was no real resistance in the first place.

he lives close by, he tells you, so the two of you can just walk. what are you getting? he'll pay for it— oh, come on, don't refuse! it's almost a tradition at this point. do you still like that rare brand of chocolate milk? guess what, this store has it. here, i'll buy you some. oh, remember to inform whoever you're staying with, lest they get worried.

he is talkative, caring. you, on the other hand, remain silent. does he miss you? you wonder. has he missed you, all this time?

neither of you expect the night to go the way it does, though. not that you're really worried about it. not when you're clumsily going through sae's drawers in search of extra PJs, not when he pulls the covers back to let you stumble drunkenly into his arms, and not when you're kissing him again so many years later. certainly not when he's telling you about how much he's missed you, how you're the only one he's wanted all along, how you're the only girl he's thought of these past six years. you can taste the wine on his lips — nothing unpleasant, if you're being honest — and when he rasps baby into your mouth, you think that there aren't a lot of things you wouldn't give up to stay like this forever.

true to his word, sae doesn't let things go too far. it doesn't mean that you don't spend the night at his, however, and when you finally wake up, he's still there.

okay, so what if some part of you had assumed that this was some sort of fever dream? you've dreamt of sae before, of course, so it's nothing new. sure, it's a little more intense than your usual, but who are you to complain? only, all of those thoughts disappear when sae stretches with a groan and slides his freezing hands under your shirt to rest against the warmth of your stomach.

you let out a sleepy shriek, rolling away from him before he pulls you back. "what the fuck, sae?"

"i'm cold," he complains, and with a mix of horror and delight, you realise that the two of you have fallen right back into your old dynamic. his fingers are warming up as he traces a three-part pattern onto your skin under your shirt. by the fourth repeat of the pattern, you come to the conclusion that they're letters. by the sixth, you've recognised it as his name.

you brush your teeth in the bathroom together; it is an odd display of domesticity that you don't exactly hate. you're still in his clothes when he places a mug of coffee in front of you.

"i did it the way you like it," he says. "i remembered."

it's obvious he's not talking about coffee here. you stare into warm liquid; a distorted reflection of yourself stares back. you swallow. "sae."

"mm?" turning back to face you, he takes a sip of his own coffee.

"what are we?" the age-old question that you've never dared to ask — neither has he, for that matter — slips out from between your lips. sae chokes.

"what do you want us to be?"

"no, no, no." you shake your head, standing up. "don't turn this around on me, sae, you already know what i want. i'm asking you, because i'm not going to tolerate this on-and-off thing like i did last time."

"hm." he sits down next to you. "i know i fucked up before, but i want to try again."

"try again as in...?"

"go out with me," he says flatly.

your heart thumps a staccato beat inside of your chest.

"wait, but i'm leaving the day after tomorrow," you protest. "how's this going to work out?"

sae smiles lopsidedly, tipping sugar out of the little bowl of it onto one of the table mats. you follow the movements of his finger as it creates rough paths through the white crystals.

"long distance?"

you shrug. "i don't know, sae, it's a lot to start off with."

"who says we have to start with long distance?" he asks, grinning."

"what?"

"i'll be going back to japan soon, to renew my passport again."

oh. oh.

"we don't... have to do anything that's out of your comfort zone," he tells you. "but you should know that i want you, a lot."

"the feeling's mutual." your face is shamefully pink, something which appears to amuse him greatly.

you leave him with remnants of wine-soaked kisses and your favourite hair tie wrapped around his wrist and a promise of return; his heart is still in your hold, but this time he tells you that. you promise to keep it safe.

[november 2024 onwards ♡]

you are at the airport, waiting for him. not yet his, but you will be, soon. or maybe you have been, all this time. he looks refreshingly pretty against the backdrop of hundreds and thousands of other people you don't know; when his eyes finally meet yours, he smiles. the normally expressionless (in public, at least) sae smiles as he all but runs over to you. you're about to greet him when interrupts.

"can i kiss you now? it's literally the only thing i've thought about since you left."

an airport kiss? how cliché. you do it anyways. his cheeks and nose are tinged red because of the cold — or not the cold — and he holds you carefully, like you'll break with a singular wrong move.

in the parking lot, you think someone recognises him. there's a shy whisper of his name that he ignores, and he kisses you again, harder, before opening your car door for you like a perfect gentleman.

"fuck," he breathes as he leans back in the passenger seat. "if you're like this the whole time i'm here, i won't be able to just leave."

your boyfriend is absolutely whipped, and it shows in every little action, every word he says. it shows when you ask him when he's leaving and he shrugs, and it's not really brought up again, and when he hands you a key and the address of his new apartment. yeah, soccer matters, of course, but you matter more.

rin finds that he hates the two of you being together more than how much he hates sae and how he left you, combined.

"you're disgusting," he tells the two of you, but he still ends up (willingly) being the best man at your wedding.

a/n; whew, writing 4 sae again <3 btw sae is not ooc he's only this open with reader bcuz he wants her ok. crying i hate this actually. title from not a lot, just forever by adrianne lenker

tags !! @c4ttheart

#sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae #sae itoshi #itoshi sae x reader #sae imagines #blue lock x reader #blue lock #bllk x you #bllk imagines #bllk x reader #bllk #bllk x female reader #bllk x y/n #↬ mine mine mine !#bllk angst #bllk fluff #↬ automated message service !#Spotify

357 notes · View notes