#like wow. is that not awkward for either of you

[ghostedgwen]

all by design | p.parker [part two]

notes : I dyed my hair red again - or rather, ginger just in time when my girlfriend decided to dye hers brown - that has nothing to do with this whattt enjoy the part two <33

warnings : college au - no superpowers, no spider-man, your relationship gets an upgrade - overall just cute fluff and more nerdy-friendly banter

You only signed up for photography to dodge a boring science class, but somehow ended up choosing Peter Parker as your muse — soft-spoken, brilliant, and criminally overlooked. He’s awkward, you’re accidentally obvious, and a late-night project might just turn into something a little more.

What if I told you I'm a mastermind? And now you're mine.

The folder feels heavier than it should. Maybe it's the pressure. Maybe it's because Peter’s standing just behind you, radiating anxious energy like a space heater on full blast.

“I still think you should’ve gone with the one where I looked vaguely mysterious,” he mutters, trying to peek over your shoulder. “You know. That one where I’m not blinking or doing something weird with my hands.”

You shoot him a look. “You mean the one where you looked like you were brooding in a 5-in-1 shampoo ad?”

He blushes immediately. “Okay, fair. But still.”

“You’re overthinking it,” you say, shoving the folder into Langley’s submission tray at the front of the classroom. “I picked the ones that felt like you. Real you.”

Peter doesn’t respond, but when you glance back, he’s smiling - soft, reluctant.

You join the rest of the class waiting for feedback as Langley starts flipping through your set. It’s quiet for a beat. Then another. Her brow lifts just slightly - wow, she is so impossible to read.

She pulls one photo from the stack and holds it up between two fingers - Peter mid-laugh, the light catching in his hair, sweater slightly rumpled. It’s warm and candid and entirely him - that was your favorite.

Langley hums. “Very strong work.”

You exchange a glance with Peter. He looks like he’s bracing for impact - like he willed the ground to swallow him whole.

“This series has excellent thematic consistency,” Langley continues, still flipping. “Clean lines, good use of ambient lighting, and - ” her smirk grows, “who knew Peter Parker was model material?”

He splutters.

“Wait - I - I’m not - what? No - ”

You stifle a laugh behind your hand. “Told you.”

Peter glances at you like you’ve betrayed him in a very personal way. “You said natural.”

“I said flattering and natural.”

Langley’s already moved on, but you can see the way Peter’s still pink at the tips of his ears, probably reliving every frame you captured.

“You okay?” you whisper as you sit back down beside him, cocking a brow teasingly.

“I’m fine,” he says, voice tight. “Just. . . didn’t expect to be publicly exposed like that.”

You grin. “You’re welcome.”

Peter’s carrying the greasy pizza box in one arm and balancing both sodas in the other, grinning as he holds the building door open with his hip. “I hope this gets me extra credit.”

You step through, laughing. “You’re banking on good pizza karma now?”

“Obviously. I’m a scholar and a gentleman.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

He nearly drops the sodas.

It’s a short walk from campus to your studio apartment - technically too close to justify delivery, but just far enough for the night air to settle over your shoulders like a soft sweater. The city buzz has faded by now; the streets are sleepy, and your footsteps echo faintly against the pavement.

Peter kicks at a pebble. “So, be honest - was this all a long con? The shared class, the compliments, the project? Did you mastermind this entire thing just to get me into soft lighting and make me look like I belong on a coffee table book?”

You smirk. “You figured me out. It was either that or suffer through another group project with that guy who thinks flash is an aesthetic.”

Peter makes a noise of agreement. “That guy gives me hives.”

You bump shoulders. “Anyway, the plan worked. You do look like you belong in a coffee table book. So thank you for trusting me with your face.”

He gives a little startled laugh.

Your studio apartment is cozy in a way that feels lived-in, not cluttered - soft golden lamps, stacks of magazines and old Polaroids scattered across your desk. Peter sets the pizza and drinks down on the low table like it’s a sacred offering and looks around, clearly trying not to be obvious about how fascinated he still is.

“This is really nice,” he says.

“Thanks. I pretend I’m an adult here.”

He toes off his shoes and joins you on the couch, the soft kind of tired settling in. You both dig into the pizza for a few minutes in companionable silence, the window cracked open just enough to let in the breeze. The city sounds like it’s dreaming.

“So,” you say, licking sauce off your thumb. “Tell me something nerdy.”

Peter swallows his bite, thinking. “Like. . . what level of nerdy are we talking?”

“Max level. Impress me.”

He straightens a little, brows furrowed in thought. “Okay. Did you know the JPEG compression algorithm is a type of lossy compression? It throws away visual data the human eye doesn’t notice to reduce file size.”

You blink. “Okay, wow.”

“That was the first thing that came to mind. I swear I know cooler stuff - ”

“No, no, I love that,” you say, grinning. “That was so perfectly you.”

He gives you a shy smile. “Okay, your turn.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Most of my nerdy knowledge is either photography-based (thanks to the subject you've been taking as a fun little side hobby) or really obscure pop culture.”

“Even better.”

You think. “Alright. Did you know some camera lenses in the 1940s had built-in soft focus filters to flatter people in portraits? Basically early Photoshop. Vanity’s been around forever.”

Peter chuckles. “That’s incredible.”

You nod. “People have always wanted to look hot.”

As he leans back, stretching, his sweater rides up slightly - not dramatically, just enough to catch your attention.

You try to play it cool. (You fail.)

“I wasn’t expecting you to be that . . .” You gesture vaguely at him. “Fit.”

Peter freezes mid-sip of his soda. “What?”

You grin. “Just saying. It’s deceptive, the whole science-boy vibe. You’re, like, secretly jacked.”

His ears turn bright red. “I - I am not jacked - I already told you.”

“Peter, please. Your forearms alone are putting in work.”

He groans and hides his face in his hands. “This is why I don’t like being in front of the camera.”

You giggle, nudging his knee with yours. “I’m just saying, you’re very photogenic.”

“You’re too good at this.”

“At what?”

“Making me flustered.”

That shuts you up. Not because you don’t have something to say, but because it knocks a little breath out of your chest.

You grab your laptop to shift the focus (and maybe your heart rate). “Okay. I’m pulling up the photos. Wanna see which ones made the cut - aside the ones we passed?”

Peter moves closer, not shy about it. Your shoulders press together as the soft blue glow from your screen lights both your faces.

You scroll through the final images - candid and quiet, soft and glowing. His expression shifts as he sees them, the way he looked in your lens.

He points at one. “That’s the one I sent my aunt.”

You turn, surprised. “Really?”

“She loved it,” he says, slightly bashful. “She said I looked happy. Then she asked if she could meet you.”

Your chest does a weird swoop thing - God.

“I’d love to meet her,” you say. “Tell her I’m honored.”

Peter beams, still pink-cheeked.

You eye him. “Wow. One project and I’m already meeting the family? We’re really speeding through the milestones.”

And despite his face turning full crimson, he grins through it.

“This can count as our second date, right?”

You don’t even try to hide your smile - and the flutter in your chest only grows.

“Yeah,” you say, watching him from the corner of your eye. “Yeah, maybe it can.”

The pizza box is long abandoned on the coffee table - this is how it's been between you two for almost 3 days now. Pizza and sodas after class.

The soda cans empty and tipped over like casualties of a very low-stakes battle. Peter’s arm is draped around your shoulder, fingers absently playing with the end of your sleeve, and your legs are tangled up like they’ve always been meant to end up this way.

It’s late. Not quite morning, not quite night. The kind of hour where the world feels quieter, and every word sounds a little more like a secret.

You’re both curled up on your couch, half-buried under a fleece blanket that smells like home and popcorn. The soft hum of your laptop fan fills the silence while some ancient sci-fi movie plays muted in the background.

“You ever think about how light from the sun takes about eight minutes to reach Earth?” Peter says into the crown of your hair.

“Mmm?”

“So technically, when we look at the sun, we’re seeing it as it was eight minutes ago. Not how it is right now.”

You blink slowly. “So. . . if the sun ever exploded, we’d just be chilling for eight minutes in ignorant bliss?”

“Exactly.” He grins. “Eight full minutes of ‘nothing’s wrong, everything’s fine’ while the apocalypse is en route - I guess it's better not to know.”

“Honestly, that tracks with how I live my life anyway.”

Peter laughs, soft and sleepy. He burrows a little closer, like he’s trying to melt into the couch - or maybe into you.

You shift slightly to get a better look at him, the kind of look that lingers. He’s warm and pink-cheeked and looking at you like you’re his favorite thing he’s ever discovered, and not just because you know how to set ISO in manual mode.

He clears his throat, suddenly bashful. “So. Um. I’ve been thinking.”

You raise a brow. “Since when have you stopped?”

“Hush. I was thinking. . . maybe, like, officially, do you want to be my girlfriend?”

You blink at him. Then blink again. Then snort.

“Peter,” you say, biting your lip. “I thought we were already dating.”

He makes a strangled little noise, halfway between scandalized and betrayed. “Wait - what? You thought we - ? And you didn’t say anything?”

You grin, smug. “I just assumed. I mean, you come over every day now, bring me snacks, let me shoot ridiculously pretty photos of you, tell me about space and lasers. You’re practically my emotional support nerd.”

Peter opens his mouth. Closes it. Points an accusatory finger. “That’s entrapment.”

“That’s romance.”

He narrows his eyes, suspicious. “So is that a yes?”

You grin wider. “Yes, Peter. You can have the honor of being my boyfriend.”

He relaxes a little, smiling so wide it practically takes over his face - until your next words hit him.

“Boyfriend #2.”

Peter chokes. “I’m what?”

You smirk. “Well, obviously you’re number two. Number one is Ben Wyatt from Parks and Rec. I mean, come on. Calzones? Stop-motion animation? Emotionally intelligent and wears plaid?”

Peter groans. “I can’t believe I’m being outshined by Adam Scott.”

“You’re being humbled. There’s a difference.”

He fake-sulks into your shoulder. “Unbelievable.”

You press a kiss to the top of his head, chuckling when he blushes. “You’ll survive.”

Peter’s quiet for a moment, then perks up like he’s just remembered something.

“Oh! May’s coming to town in three days.”

You tilt your head. “Yeah?”

“I was wondering - um, you don’t have to, but if you want to - would you maybe want to meet her?”

You blink, momentarily stunned into silence. “Like . . .meet your aunt?”

“Yeah. Just, you know. Casual. She’s really chill - and she already loves you from the photos.”

Your heart does a little somersault, because of course he showed her. You remembered him telling you.

You nudge him. “I’d love to meet her.”

He looks relieved. “Really?”

“Yeah. I just need to prepare.”

“For what?”

“For the nerdy fact that will win her eternal favor. I have to impress her. I want her to think I’m cool and smart and worthy of her favorite nephew.”

Peter laughs, fond and full. “She already thinks that - also I'm her only nephew.”

You narrow your eyes. “Still. Give me your best nerd trivia. I want to blow her mind.”

He kisses your cheek, bold but cute. “You already blow mine.”

It’s late afternoon when you and Peter arrive at the quiet café nestled between a florist and a secondhand bookstore, the kind of place with chipped mugs, too many potted plants, and sunlight pooling in thick gold through the windows. You spot her instantly - warm smile, wind-tousled hair pinned back with a clip, a wool coat too big for the spring weather.

She’s waiting at a table near the window, a half-finished tea in front of her, and when she sees Peter, her whole face lights up.

“There’s my boy,” she says, getting up as he pulls her into a hug. She’s shorter than you expected, but hugs like she’s twice her size - big, all-encompassing, and full of heart.

Then she turns to you.

“And you must be the one behind those wonderful photos.”

You smile and offer a hand, which she promptly ignores to pull you into a hug too.

“I’m May. You can call me Aunt May - everyone does.” She pulls back with a twinkle in her eye. “And you’re even prettier in person. My goodness, Peter.”

Peter flushes scarlet. “May - ”

“No, no,” she waves him off, grinning. “You didn’t tell me you were dating someone with such an eye for art and cheekbones like that. Honestly, what are you feeding them in school these days?”

You laugh, taking a seat across from her. “It’s all the stress. Works better than contour.”

Peter groans into his hands. “This is a mistake.”

May only smirks. “You’re lucky I like you, kid. Otherwise, I’d be trying to set her up with someone else.”

You glance at Peter and wink. “Well, to be fair, I kind of set us up myself.”

May raises a brow, clearly intrigued.

“Oh, yeah,” you continue, teasing. “Total premeditated seduction. I orchestrated a whole fake chance partnership in our class. Honestly, I should be studying evil masterminding, not photography.”

Peter hides his face behind his tea. “You said you weren’t going to admit that.”

You grin. “But where’s the fun in that?”

May is already laughing. “I knew it. I told Ben - rest his soul - if this boy ever managed to charm someone, it’d be because they did all the work.”

Peter mumbles, “I’m right here.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she tells him, then pats your hand. “You have excellent taste. He’s a little shy, but he’s got a heart like a sunrise.”

You smile, your chest full of warmth.

“I know,” you say softly, and Peter reaches under the table to lace your fingers together.

They don’t let go for the rest of the afternoon.

The lighting’s been adjusted four times already, but it’s finally perfect - soft and golden, streaking in through gauzy curtains and glinting off the edges of Peter’s glasses. You’re crouched by the tripod, adjusting the camera settings while he fiddles with the timer remote.

“Are you sure this is centered?” Peter squints at the lens like it might betray him.

“You’re literally a STEM major and you don’t trust basic geometry?” you tease, tapping a button with finality. “Besides, we look good from all angles. Especially me.”

“Wow. So humble.”

You beam. “It’s part of my charm.”

He snorts, taking his spot beside you on the couch. “What even is this for again? Just. . .self-portraits?”

“Well,” you hum, leaning into his side, “maybe I thought it’d be cute. Couple shots. Capturing our natural chemistry. Documenting your downfall into hopeless devotion.”

“I fell for you the moment you started quoting The Good Place in class,” Peter says with a grin. “You knew I couldn’t resist philosophy jokes and emotional vulnerability.”

You flash a wicked grin. “So what I’m hearing is. . . you do belong in the Bad Place.”

He throws his head back laughing. “If the Bad Place has you, sign me up.”

The camera clicks once. Then again.

You grin and nudge his knee with yours. “We’re such freaks.”

“You match my freak,” he says, a little too earnestly. “You really do.”

Your voice softens. “We’re a match made in heaven.”

“All thanks to your brilliant mastermind plan,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against your temple.

“You know it.” You shoot him a look. “Although, I doubt you’d have come up to me if I hadn’t taken the initiative.”

Peter hums and wraps his fingers gently around your wrist, tugging you closer. “What makes you think I didn’t plan everything from the beginning? Even your so-called mastermind moment.”

Your eyes widen, but before you can reply, he cracks into laughter.

“Okay, fine. I’m not as bold as you,” he concedes, nose brushing yours. “You’ll always be my favorite schemer.”

He kisses the glare right off your face.

The camera clicks.

And again.

And again.

You lean back with a huff, though your smile is anything but annoyed. “I miss my shy softboy.”

Peter shrugs innocently, tugging you back in - grinning kinda smug but you can still see traces of that shy Peter somewhere in there (it never left).

“Guess you brought out something bold in me.”

Click.

Click.

Click.

end. for real, this time. masterlist

[manlikeazi]

I just love your writing.Period.

So……hear me out……Imagine if Niko was doing another one of his videos of bothering people and you happen to be there but you actually think that he’s very funny and you’re not bothered at all, actually you even do jokes about him to.

LOVE YOUR WORK💗💗💗

Mic Checks and Heart Skips - Niko Omilana

Summary: You, Niko, and a flirty/awkward banter. AKA the beginning of the most unserious love story ever told.

Pairing: Niko x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Masterlist

You didn't expect anything out of the ordinary today. Just a casual walk through central London, iced coffee in hand, headphones in, minding your business until you notice the sudden shift in the air.

Laughter, chaos and a camera pointed in your general direction.

You squinted.

No way 

Tall, lanky, and loud. Wearing sunglasses like he's dodging the feds and holding a mic like it's the most powerful weapon on Earth.

Yep, it's him.

Niko Omilana

He's currently mid-rant, standing in the middle of the street with his cameraman filming as he interrogates some poor tourist about their loyalty to the NDL. The tourist looks confused. You look amused. You don't stop walking, but as you pass, you catch Niko's eye.

He freezes.

Then points directly at you, dramatic as ever.

"YOU! Stranger! Suspiciously calm individual. Stop right there, I need answers. Immediate answers" Niko yelled embarrassingly, almost across the street.

"To what?" You said as you paused walking, remove your headphones slowly like you're in a western stand-off. 

"To why you're walking around like you haven't committed war crimes against the Niko Defence League" Niko said with all seriousness in his face.

"I'm sorry, the what?" You said as you blinked at him confused. 

"So you're admitting you're not a member, incredible. Do you know this is treason?" Niko said as he scoffed. 

"Treason's a strong word" You said as you took a sip in your drink. 

"But not as strong as that cologne you've got on. What? You trying to gaslight the pigeons?" You asked with a small smirk.

The cameraman wheezes. Niko blinks, caught off guard by the clapback. 

"Okay wow, you think you're funny yeah?" Niko asked.

"Funnier than you? Debatable but I didn't need to make a political campaign to get attention" You said as you flash a grin. 

"Okay, that's crazy. Cause that campaign changed lives" Niko said as he puts a hand to his chest. 

"For real? Whose? Yours?" You teased. 

"Touché, touché. She's good. Get her face, this is my new rival" Niko said as he looked away dramatically though a small smile forming in his lips. 

"Thanks, I accept the position" You said as you did a little mock bow. 

"Alright then, street interview. Serious question, how many chickens do you think it would take to kill an elephant?" Niko asked while he stands besides you, mic back up. 

"Are the chickens trained?" You asked with a squint. 

"You're asking the real questions" Niko said after he made a long awkward paused, surprised. 

"I need context. Are they just chickens or like... elite, Kung Fu Panda chickens?" You asked.

"I'm scared of you" Niko said as he actually laughed. Turning to the camera real quick.

"As you should be" You said with a smirk. 

"Now I have a question for you" You added.

"Oh?" Niko responded as he lifted a brow.

"If you're so tall, why are your jokes so short?" You asked, with a dramatic thinking face for threatics.

"WOAH" Niko said as he turned to the camera as if asking for back up. 

"The DISRESPECT, she's insane. I'm under attack" Niko said dramatically.

You snort and take another sip of your drink, pleased with yourself.

"I think I've found my match" Niko says to no one in particular, shaking his head. 

"Guys, pack it up. Video's over, I've been out-trolled" Niko said.

Then he looks at you again, a bit more curious this time. 

"You're not bothered by any of this, are you?" Niko asked.

"Not even slightly" You said with a smug look.

"I've been yelling at people all day and you're the only one who hasn't either run away or told me to shut up" Niko said while letting out a smile.

"What can I say? I enjoy a bit of chaos" You said with a grin. 

"You're actually cool, what's your name?" Niko said as he smiles but less performative this time, more genuine. 

"Y/N" You said.

He repeats it into the mic like it's some prophetic revelation. 

"You hear that, everyone? That's the name of my future nemesis-slash-best-friend-slash–possibly wife?" Niko said to the camera with a teasing grin.

"Already planning the wedding?" You said as you raised a brow. 

"Of course, it's gonna be in a Tesco aisle. Very intimate, the bring your own meal deal" Niko said.

You laugh, hard this time, and he looks proud of himself for pulling that reaction from you.

Then, as if remembering something, he holds out his phone. 

"Listen, normally I'd just walk away after annoying someone and call it a day but you might be the highlight of my day. You wanna drop your Insta or something?" Niko said, shooting his shot.

You eye the phone, then him.

"Hm" You said, pretending to consider. 

"What do I get in return?" You asked, amused and definitely interested.

"A lifetime of bad jokes and public embarrassment?" Niko said but more of an unsure answer.

"Tempting..." You said.

"And I'll let you interview me next time" Niko added.

"Deal" You said with a smile. 

You put your @ into his phone, and he watches carefully like he's just unlocked a cheat code.

"DON'T FALL IN LOVE WITH ME!" Niko yelled as you turned to leave.

"Bit late for that, innit?" You said as you made a glance back over your shoulder. 

The camera jerks to Niko's face as his jaw drops in slow motion. He points at the camera, speechless, grinning ear to ear.

"CUT THE CAMERAS GEORGE, I'M IN LOVE" Niko said, covering the camera with his hands while Georges laughed at him.

BONUS - Because I love you lots

You're scrolling through Instagram, minding your business, when a notification pops up.

@niko: Sent you a message.

Curious, you decided to open it.

And immediately burst out laughing.

He's sent a meme, it's not even a good one. It's one of those cursed low-resolution screenshots with a blurry minion and Comic Sans font that says,

"Are you French? Because Eiffel for you" Don't block me, I swear that's just the opener. I've got worse

Already regretting giving you my @ ngl

Nah come on, admit it, you smiled and that was at LEAST a 4.7/10

Then, before you can type another reply, he's already calling you. FaceTime, a bold move.

You pick up, and Niko's face pops up, lit with pure smugness.

"Look who it is!" Niko said, looking all pleased with himself. 

"Fell for the minion charm, didn't you?" Niko asked with a smug grin.

"Not even slightly but I'm impressed with your confidence" You said as you rolled your eyes. 

"That's all I've got going for me, honestly" Niko said as he grins. 

Suddenly, another voice cuts in from the background. George, lounging behind Niko on the sofa, clearly eavesdropping and chewing a biscuit.

"Bro, you slid in with a minion meme?" George said, trying not to judge with his tone but his face definitely did.

"Yeah, and guess what George? It worked, so watch your tone" Niko said as he spins the camera around. 

George stares at the screen, squints at you, then back at Niko. 

"Nah, I refuse to believe this is real. You actually used Eiffel for you? That's grounds for jail time" George said.

"It was strategic!" Niko said as he tries and fails to defend himself. 

"Strategically embarrassing, I'm telling the group chat" George said with a snort. 

You laughed and Niko swings the camera back to himself, looking betrayed.

"Okay, no. You're supposed to be on my side" Niko said looking at George.

"I would be, if your game wasn't from 2012" George said as he shrugs. 

"You know what" Niko says to you, straight-faced. 

"He's just mad he didn't think of it first" Niko said.

"Yeah, real gutted I didn't send a Minion" George mutters. 

"Absolute heartbreak" George added, mockingly.

"Honestly, I'm just impressed you committed. That's the real win" You said with a smile, shaking your head. 

"So you admit it. I won" Niko said as he perks up. 

"Don't get ahead of yourself, tesco boy" You said as you raised a brow. 

"TESCO BOY?! Yeah, you're finished. You've already lost" George said as he nearly chokes laughing in the background. 

"Alright, both of you are haters" Niko said after he huffs. 

"I'm muting this chat" Niko muttered.

You heard George cackling in the background as Niko dramatically ends the call but not before he sends another message.

Next time I see you, I'm bringing backup, I refuse to be bullied alone again Also, what's your stance on Tesco aisle weddings? Asking for a friend (me)

- end -

Hello lovelies!!! This is consistency for me at it's finest and I HOPE you understand the flow of the messages because I can't modify it the way I can in wattpad lmao.

How is everyone doing? I hope you lots are alright!! I'm really making the most of my school break vacation by doing all this so yeah

I hope y'all have an amazing day, absolute love and guidance.

As I said everytime, send in some request and ideas!!

[blurry-lock]

I have an idea... What about shidou X fem reader who is a female version of shidou. Both of them carzy. Omg wow.

DETENTION

Somehow detention seemed to be less of a torture with him

What you need to know: high school au, fem reader, troublemaker! Shidou and reader, swearing, slightly suggestive

Notes: hope you like it, i would definitely match his freak trust… 🥺

Words: 1k

There he was again, standing in front of the door to detention class as he sighed and mumbled some curses before entering, but as soon as he looked at who else was there he smirked and chuckled as he saw you.

You were looking out the window with a grumpy look and a bandaid in the bridge of your nose.

“Y/n, Haha! guess we’re on the same boat darling~” Shidou smirked and sat besides you, resting his head on his hand.

You turned and saw Shidou, your eyes slightly lighting up as you smirked back at him. “Ryusei!”

Shidou and you had a strange relationship, you shamelessly flirted back and forth but never crossed the line of friendship… even if you clearly looked like you were more than friends neither of you addressed it, but it seemed you were fine like that. (Not at all)

You’ve met in that same place, detention. The similarities between the two of you were scary to the point everyone thought you were either related or dating, your friendship came with chaos as you both enjoyed each other’s company and get each other like no one could, you both were reckless, proud and stubborn. You were the best pair and worst as you sometimes got into arguments and almost fight each other just to act like normal the next day.

Not to say you also had some of the same interests, you both liked art and while you liked watching soccer, he loved playing it.

“Did you fight with Rin again?” You tilted your head, already knowing the answer.

“That idiot always messes up my plays.” He huffed and crossed his arms.

“Yeah, he’s a pain in the ass… I hate being his seat mate.” You sighed, it was very known you both hated Rin.

“I wish I shared some classes with you…” He sighed leaning closer to you.

“Oh I don’t, that way I would get distracted by your pretty face~” You smirked, leaning closer too as both of your faces were inches away you could feel your breathings.

His smirk widened, enjoying their playful banter as his gaze flickered from your lips to your eyes. The tension was very obvious, but somehow both of you were hesitant to take the next step.

“Hey you! The couple, back away, this is detention not your rooms!” The teacher who was watching over you and other students called you out, causing you to look at the teacher.

“We’re not a couple!” You both huffed and leaned back to your seats.

But something about that sentence made both of you wish you were one, you two always wondered what it would be like but neither of you talked about it. Because together you formed chaos and fire, but sometimes that fire can burn you.

As time passed you thought more about Shidou and your feelings towards him, did you really liked him or just like the chaos you both did? You couldn’t stop overthinking and things started to get awkward between both of you.

You didn’t flirt back at him at all, you slightly seemed to avoid him and Shidou knew, he immediately sensed something was going on and he was scared.

Scared of you getting tired at him or annoyed like everyone else did. Because that was his life, he made friends but they never got too close to him, he liked being alone and just focusing on soccer but at the end of the day he sometimes felt lonely. Until he met you, something about you made his cells and whole body excited, you weren’t annoyed by him and played along with him, but now that he sensed something was off he was worried.

He couldn’t let that happen, he couldn’t let you go now that he felt he found his soulmate. Shidou hadn’t thought about his romantic feelings towards you until now, he got to the conclusion he really like you and wouldn’t want you to be with someone else. He struggled with expressing his feelings as he had a turmoil of things going on in his head.

You were walking down the hallway, lost in your own mind when suddenly you felt a grip in your wrist and in a blink of an eye you were trapped against the wall with Shidou caging you and looking down at you as he was… frowning?

“Y/n I… I need to be honest with you.” He said dead serious, this was the first time you’ve seen him like this making you curious and worried.

“Is everything okay? You seem different.” You slightly frowned, looking up at him as he was towering you.

“You’ve been acting strange lately and before anything else happens I just want to make you know that I-“ He stopped and let out a shaky sigh, suddenly cupping your cheeks. “I like you so much, no one gets me like you and I know I play around too much, but I’m serious, I feel like you’re my soulmate.”

“Ryusei…” You widened your eyes as you looked at him and for the first time, you blushed from his words.

“Heh, you’re blushing.” He smirked, not missing the opportunity to tease you.

“I think I share your feelings… you make my day less boring.” You grabbed his wrists and smiled at him.

Shidou grinned widely and hugged you tightly, he even lifted you up did a spin, he was excited and very happy. Now that he found someone who could catch up to him he wasn’t planning to let you go any time soon.

He pinned you against a nearby wall and buried his head in the crook of your neck, still hugging you tight when you suddenly felt a sting in your neck.

“Hope you’re ready for me~” He playfully grinned, taking a look at the now red spot he left in your neck from biting you.

“I hope you are ready for me.” You smirked back at him, running your hands through his chest.

He couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot, pressing his body more and more against you as he thought you were really the one for him.

Hope you like it! Sorry for the lack of posts and slightly shorter fics, i have other requests to do and been a little busy so i appreciate your patience and words from my readers! Have a nice day <3

Masterlist here

[panerasbox]

Stop The World —

Pairing: Chessy x fem!reader (present time)

Genre: fluff!

word count: 1,293

Chapter one 🎭 Chapter two 🎭 Chapter three 🎭 Chapter four 🎭 Chapter five 🎭 Chapter six

a/n: this next chapter came out a few days before I anticipated, but this one is dedicated to @schemmentisimpasours ! good vibes, friend 🙏🏻

Chessy found Y/n in the garden, standing quietly by the rose bushes. The morning sun was climbing now, soft and golden, warming the dew still clinging to the grass. The bushes were in that in-between stage—most of the blooms were fading, petals browned at the edges, but a few late ones clung stubbornly to their color. Y/n moved gently among them, clipping back the tired ones with a pair of worn shears.

She looked calm. Peaceful, even. But Chessy knew better than to trust that kind of quiet.

Taking a breath, she walked over. “Hey.”

Y/n turned, a faint smile lifting her lips. “Morning.”

“Liz said you were out here.” Chessy hesitated, glancing at the roses, then back at her. “She also… suggested I stop being a coward.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like Elizabeth.”

“She’s not subtle,” Chessy said, then added with a dry smile, “but she’s not wrong either.”

Y/n set the shears down on the edge of a weathered stone bench. “So. You came to talk.”

“Yeah,” Chessy said quietly. “About… everything.”

She shifted, fingers curling and uncurling at her sides. “I was terrified, Y/n. Not just of what I felt for you—though that scared the hell out of me—but of what it would mean to finally stop pretending. To admit I wasn’t okay with the life I’d convinced myself was safe.”

Y/n didn’t interrupt. She just stood there, listening like it mattered, like she wasn’t waiting for a neat ending or a clean resolution.

“And Martin—he knew. Long before I did,” Chessy went on. “He said he stopped being in love with me the moment I stopped looking at him like he was home.”

She let that sit for a second, her voice softening. “But I never stopped looking at you like that.”

Y/n’s breath hitched just slightly, barely enough to catch unless you were watching for it. Chessy was.

“You were this unexpected thing,” Chessy said. “This warmth I didn’t know I needed until it was suddenly the only thing I could feel. And I tried to shove it down, but all that did was make me miserable. And worse—it hurt you.”

Y/n stepped forward, close but not touching. “It did,” she admitted. “But I still wanted you. Even when it hurt.”

The honesty in her voice hit Chessy like a wave—strong and steady and impossible to ignore.

“Last night, when we walked together, when you took my hand…” Chessy swallowed. “I didn’t kiss you because it didn’t feel like it was about that. Not yet. It felt bigger.”

Y/n nodded slowly. “It was.”

“I want more,” Chessy said. “Not just a kiss in the vineyard or a quiet morning in the garden. I want the middle-of-the-night talks, and the way you drink your coffee too slow, and your awful playlists, and every awkward, beautiful, terrifying bit of this. I want you.”

A pause. The kind where hearts beat louder than footsteps.

Y/n looked at her for a long, unreadable moment. Then she reached out, slowly, fingers brushing Chessy’s wrist before sliding down to her hand.

And then—finally—a kiss.

It was soft, sure, and unhurried. The kind of kiss that doesn’t try to prove anything, only promises. The kind of kiss you only get once you’ve stripped everything else away.

When they pulled apart, Y/n didn’t let go of her hand.

Chessy let out a shaky laugh. “Okay. That was… wow.”

Y/n’s smile widened. “Yeah.”

They stood there a while longer, the garden around them buzzing gently with life. A bird dipped low over the hedge. Somewhere in the distance, one of the twins shouted something about pancakes.

Chessy didn’t move.

Y/n squeezed her hand. “So what now?”

Chessy took a breath, not entirely sure of the answer yet. But for once, the not-knowing didn’t scare her.

“I think,” she said, “we start with breakfast.”

And for the first time in a long while, the idea of something simple—eggs, toast, a seat across from Y/n at the kitchen table—felt like the biggest adventure of all.

readers point of view

The kitchen was already warm when we walked in—sunlight spilling across the tiled floor, something sweet toasting in the oven, the faint hum of the twins’ voices floating in from the next room.

But it wasn’t any of that that made me feel like I was glowing from the inside out.

It was her. Chessy.

She didn’t let go of my hand until we stepped over the threshold, and even then, her fingers lingered for a second longer than they had to, like she was still making sure I was real.

I busied myself grabbing plates from the cabinet while she moved to the stove, checking something in the skillet like it was the most normal morning in the world. And maybe it was. Except now she’d kissed me, told me she wanted more, and my brain was still about five steps behind my heart trying to process it.

“How do you like your eggs again?” she asked without looking up.

I blinked. “You’re cooking for me?”

Chessy grinned. “It’s literally the bare minimum.”

“Well,” I said, sliding into one of the stools at the counter, “bare minimum’s still pretty cute coming from you.”

She glanced over her shoulder, a slow blush rising in her cheeks. It was such a rare sight—her being flustered—that I nearly forgot how to breathe.

“I like them over easy,” I added, just to fill the air. “If you’re really asking.”

“Got it.” She nodded, cracking an egg like it was second nature. “Anything else?”

“I mean, a declaration of undying love over toast would be cool,” I teased lightly, hoping to ease the knot of nerves still tucked beneath my ribs.

She shot me a look, playful but sharp. “Maybe after coffee.”

God. This was weird. And sweet. And new.

And I didn’t know how to do this—not with her, not when my heart was still holding onto weeks of doubt and want and all the things we hadn’t said until last night. Part of me wanted to lean into the moment, let it be easy. But another part, the more cautious one, was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Chessy?”

She turned to face me, egg spatula in one hand. “Yeah?”

I hesitated. “This… whatever this is. Are you sure?”

Her smile softened, and she came around the counter to stand in front of me.

“I’m not sure of a lot of things,” she said honestly. “But I’m sure about you. And that I want to figure the rest out—with you.”

She reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. Her touch was so careful it made my chest ache.

“And if I mess it up,” she added, “I’ll do the work to fix it.”

I didn’t realize I was tearing up until she noticed and stepped closer.

“Hey, no,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” I said, wiping at my cheek. “It’s not a bad thing. I just… it’s been a long time since someone wanted me like this. Out loud.”

Chessy nodded, like she got it. Like she really got it.

The egg started to burn behind her, but neither of us moved.

“Breakfast might be a disaster,” she said.

“That’s okay,” I said quietly. “We’re allowed to figure it out.”

She leaned down and kissed my forehead. Just once. Just enough.

And when she turned back to the stove, humming under her breath like she wasn’t changing my whole life with every small, intentional act—well, I knew I was already gone for her.

a/n #2: this is not the end! far from it. we’re just getting started now.

[beigetiger]

Imagine being one of the military police dudes in UtE when Cadaver took over and promptly tried to capture Valkyrie. You're taking orders from Supreme Mage Cain to attack...Valkyrie Cain. Like did anyone ask questions or

[avephelis]

every time someone mischaracterises jay ferin as the therapist friend a fairy loses its wings btw. put some respect on her emotionally-constipated ass.

[utilitycaster]

Sort of a distant tangent off my post about Ashton, but I'm growing more and more suspicious of the fandom claim that there's no time for small RP moments in Campaign 3. I do think that it's been challenging to get deeper party bonding or serious conversations that aren't about the big philosophical questions they're facing, since those do take much more time; but then I think about Calamity, or Candela Obscura. I can genuinely give you at least a couple paragraphs about pretty much every relationship in the two Circles, or in the Ring of Brass. I can also point to no shortage of small moments between characters in the Mighty Nein Aeor or Vox Machina Vecna endgame episodes, which were all extremely plot-heavy and fast-paced, and D20 consistently nails character relationships in a fraction of the time.

I think it really does come down to, as Brennan Lee Mulligan always says, the character creation phase. Laying down a solid groundwork in which everyone has a detailed, rich backstory and sense of personality and relationship history (in the case of characters who knew each other prior to the start of the series) is absolutely crucial, and even in the case of characters who don't know each other before going in, a good amount of time spent in character creation ensures that it's easier for them to develop those interpersonal relationships on the fly. I know in actual play there's some degree of finding the character as you play, but there are games for which there is a very short runway, and I don't think it ever hurts to do more extensive character prep than the bare minimum. And if there are gaps, I think it also helps to go back and fill those in mid-way, away from the table - Travis clarifying Chetney's backstory being a great example that allowed the history of Chetney and Deanna to feel realized and full, despite only a few episodes.

I'll also be blunt: most of the time when people complain that there aren't moments because the plot keeps moving...they're mad about shipping. Which has always rung hollow to me. It was a common complaint in C2, that no time was taken for character relationships, despite them taking an entire half of an episode for the Beauyasha date and despite no shortage of moments for all three of the other couples (and plenty of platonic moments between friends). The issue was never a lack of time; it was that the characters they wanted to talk to each other didn't actually have the relationship in canon that the fans had dreamed up, and so, when the chips were down, they went to other people.

It takes two seconds to say something like "I hold their hand", even in the middle of plot-heavy adventuring. If someone doesn't say it, it's rarely the GM rushing them; it's the player either choosing not to do so, or not remembering to do so, and either of those is quite revealing regarding how the player feels about that relationship and where it stands in their priorities.

[iamnotlookingidonotseeit]

(in mingled delight and astonishment) I'm turning into my dad

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[mad-hunts]

what chess piece represents you?

the black knight.

you are a black knight, the black sheep, the underdog. as the only piece that can jump over others, you can easily get yourself in and out of situations - always catching people off guard with your charisma and cunning. you move in the shadows, trading information with shady people, getting the upper hand through not always good methods. how far do you think this road can take you? for all your charisma or cunning, lies can only get you so far. one day, that mask you've put on will slip, and you'll be left defenseless. but until then, oh black knight, live like there's no tomorrow - because there might not be.

tagged by: @divingdownthehole.

tagging: @lvebug, @twcfaces, @talentforlying, @forensisch, and anyone else who might like to do this quiz!

[unproduciblesmackdown]

the most recognized as comedic song being the best part of the movie musical because the conventions that serve as a mode of communicating ideas, for example "people just bursting into song" or "choreography" or "'noticeably stylized' cinematography" that accentuates nonliteral nonrealism-invoking choices, are regarded as Silly or Frivolous. and the effort to shove everything else that's more "serious" into what is expected to be read as dramatic cinema that's not stylized in any ways that seem too "Genre" which only makes [but someone's singing?] underwhelming and out of place because no other elements are supporting it

[foxy-eva]

Send Nudes

Summary: Chaos ensues after you accidentally send Spencer a nude pic

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) dub-con (Spencer receives an unsolicited nude pic), embarrassment, awkwardness, tension, heavy kissing, male masturbation, oral (fem receiving), handjob, protected penetrative sex

Author's Note: I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins Wrong Recipient Challenge!

Word count: 3.2k

Masterlist

Panic. Embarrassment. Shame. 

It was hard to describe what you felt when you stared at your phone, realizing that you had just sent Spencer Reid a nude picture of yourself. 

It was a mistake, of course – right when you wanted to send him a screenshot of an article, you stumbled over the mess in your apartment and selected the wrong picture. Frozen in place, you watched in horror as the read receipt showed up instantly. 

Spencer had just seen your naked body light up on the screen of his phone. 

A picture he never asked for and probably didn't want to see. It wasn’t a bad photo, some might even call it aesthetically pleasing. But you had never intended for anyone else to see it. It was just a way for you to make yourself feel good about your body. 

You contemplated your options. Burning your phone, moving across the country and changing your identity sounded intriguing but difficult to arrange. Instead you decided to text Spencer, hoping that soon you’d both be able to laugh about the embarrassing thing you just did. 

“I am so sorry about that. I really didn't mean to send that! Can you please delete the pic and forget about it?” 

You didn't get a response. Spencer was never great at texting but you had really hoped to hear back from him. It was hard to tell if he felt just as embarrassed or maybe even offended – you certainly wouldn't want to receive unsolicited nude pics either. 

You had barely gotten any sleep when you walked into work the next morning. Worst case scenarios had plagued your mind all night – from another painful workplace sexual harassment seminar to maybe even losing your job over your mishap – you had no idea what would expect you today. 

Everything seemed normal when you got to your desk, except for the fact that your favorite coworker didn't even look at you when you walked by him. Spencer usually liked sitting beside you in the conference room and also on the jet, but he did neither of those things that day. 

“Wow you really must have pissed Reid off, huh?” Luke whispered when he sat down beside you on the plane. 

“Did he say anything to you?” you wanted to know. 

“No, he didn't. What did you do? Spill coffee over his favorite chess board?” he teased. 

“Oh it’s so much worse than that,” you whined while heat rushed to your face. 

Emily decided to discuss the case before Luke could ask more questions. Spencer avoided you for the next couple of hours until you decided you both had suffered enough. 

A quiet moment in the coffee kitchen of the police precinct seemed good enough to approach him.

“Hey Spencer,” you said and noticed how he almost jumped at the sound of your voice. 

“H…hi,” he mumbled, his eyes fixated on the floor.

Stepping closer, he finally looked at you for the first time that day. The rosy shade spreading over his cheeks was impossible to ignore. 

“I’m very sorry about the… you know. I didn't mean to send it but I understand if you feel offended by it,” you sincerely told him. 

“I’m not… offended.”

You took a deep breath before you continued talking, “All I want to say is… if you want to discuss this incident with Emily or even HR, I would understand. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable in any way.” 

“No, it’s okay, really,” he lied. “We can just forget about it.” 

Spencer Reid was good at many things. Lying, however, definitely wasn’t his strong suit. You decided to drop the subject for now, aware that talking more about it would probably not make him less uncomfortable. 

The tension between you two was palpable for the rest of the workday. When you stepped into your hotel room that night, you were relieved to finally have a couple of walls between the two of you. 

If this thing didn't resolve soon, you’d have to talk to Emily about it eventually. But there was still hope that it wouldn't come to that. The embarrassment about your mishap was already bad enough as is.

The three knocks on your hotel door startled you. With your heart beating uncomfortably fast, you walked over to the door to find Spencer on the other side. 

He walked into your room without saying a word. Then he began slowly pacing up and down your room, still silent. He looked at you for a second but his sight fell to the floor immediately after that. 

“I uh…” he began before taking a deep breath. “I lied to you earlier.”

“About what?” you wanted to clarify. “Wanting to go to HR?” 

He shook his head. “I said that we can just forget about it but I don’t think I can do that.” 

Your heart felt heavy at his words. His discomfort pained you and you wished nothing more than to be able to take it back. “I’m so sorry Spencer.”

“I deleted the image off my phone but…” he paused to finally look at you. The expression written over his face was hard to read. What you didn't find was the discomfort you expected. Instead he looked… cocky?

He continued, “...it seems like it’s burned into my brain. And I can’t help but wonder, was it really an accident?”

“What?! Of course!” you squeaked. “Believe me, I would never want to send you a picture like that unprompted.”

That was when you saw a subtle smirk on his face. “Interesting choice of words.” 

You thought about it for a moment. Had you really just implied that you would want to send him nudes if he’d ask you to? 

“That's not what I meant,” you tried to brush it off. “And please don’t give me a lecture about Freudian slips.”

His presence filled the room and you felt like you couldn't take deep enough breaths to satiate your need for oxygen. His demeanor was so different from what you were used to and you had trouble wrapping your head around it.

His next question was even more surprising. “Who did you take this picture for?” 

The undertone in his voice was unsettling and you started feeling defensive. “I don’t see how that's any of your business but just for the record, I took it for myself. I do that occasionally to make myself feel good about my body.” 

It seemed as if he was content, almost relieved with your answer. You scanned his body language again and replayed his words in your head. Then it hit you all at once. Spencer was not here to scold you for what you did. 

He was jealous. And he wanted to make sure no one else got to see your picture. 

A grin formed on your face as you realized that you could play this game too.

Your tone was laced with a certain playfulness when you asked, “What did you do after you saw the picture?”

The change of your demeanor seemed to take Spencer by surprise. “I just told you, I deleted it.” 

“I don't think that's all you did.” He audibly gulped and you noticed his cheeks taking on a reddish color. Stepping closer to him, you whispered, “Did you touch yourself, Spencer?”

A shaky breath left his mouth before he confessed, “Yes.”

“Naughty boy,” You teased him. “You really liked that image, hm?” 

Nodding, he took a step forward until there was barely any space between the two of you. “I can't stop thinking about you.”

His words boosted your confidence. “I know I look great in that pic. But I think I would look even better in this lighting right here, don’t you think?” 

Before you could bring to action what you had insinuated, you felt Spencer's hands cupping your face to pull you into a kiss. The surprised gasp escaping your throat was muffled by his lips against yours. 

He kissed you with a fervor that knocked the air out of your lungs. Weakness rushed to your knees and you had to hold onto him to not tumble back. One hand pawed at his shirt while the other one held onto his shoulder. His lips felt soft yet firm against yours. 

When his tongue begged for entrance, you let it. As he deepened the kiss, you could feel heat rushing through body. A few moments ago you really thought you’d have the upper hand in this game you were playing but now realized you were just as pathetic as he was. 

Maybe sending him that image was a Freudian slip of some kind. Or maybe it was just some odd plan the universe had to bring you together. Either way, you were grateful for how things turned out. 

Your hands became curious as they wandered over Spencer’s body. The tingling in your fingertips could only be soothed by feeling his skin underneath them, so they quickly began unbuttoning his shirt. Spencer showed a similar interest in feeling more of you by the way his fingers dropped down to the hem of your shirt. 

Piece after piece both of your clothes fell to the floor, only ever breaking the kiss for as long as necessary. When you stood completely bare in front of one another, you dared to press your body against his to feel him. 

It was impossible to tell who moaned first when his length pressed against your stomach. With a firm grip on his shoulders, you moved him back until his legs made contact with the edge of the bed. You pushed down until he sat on the mattress, staring up at you with a curiosity in his eyes that made your heart jump. 

As you stepped back, his tongue darted out of his mouth to lick over his lips and you wondered if he thought about tasting you. To your surprise, he managed to not break eye contact until you challenged him, “Go on, take a look.”

His sight scanned your body, lingering on your breasts for a second before moving further down, taking everything in. You couldn’t hold back from looking at him, too. A rosy color had spread all over his cheeks and chest and when you dared to drop your eyes to his cock, you noticed how it twitched slightly against his thigh. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed when your eyes met again. 

“Better than the image?” you teased, smirking at him. 

He only nodded before looking at your body again. It was like he was mesmerized, as if a miracle had just unfolded right before him. It became obvious that he was ready to worship you if you’d let him. But first, you had something else in your mind. 

“Show me exactly what you did when you saw my picture,” you told him. 

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Wh… what?” 

“Don’t be shy now,” you snickered. “Come on, I wanna see how pretty you think I am.” 

The sweet smile on your face seemed to encourage him enough to let his right hand move towards his hardness. It was as if he needed reassurance when he found your eyes and you nodded.

He wrapped his fingers around his cock, giving himself a squeeze and you watched as precum spilled over the tip. Slowly, he began moving his fist up and down his length, swiping his thumb over the head each time he got to the top. The groan that slipped from his lips could only be described as absolutely sinful. 

You couldn’t deny how much the sight in front of you turned you on. Spencer was so incredibly beautiful and the thought that your body had the ability to make him feral like that drove you insane. 

Arousal gathered at your entrance the longer you watched him. This show was no longer enough for you, you needed more. Your hands found the curve of your chest, gently kneading them before your fingers began toying with your hardened peaks. Spencer’s eyes were fixated on your hands, his mouth hanging wide open and unabashedly moaning at the sight while accelerating the pace of his hand. 

Then suddenly, he stopped and got up from bed. Desperation was written all over his face when he looked at you. 

“Please,” he begged as he stepped closer. “I need to touch you.” 

It was everything you wanted right then, too. 

“I’m all yours, Spencer.” 

His mouth was on yours in an instant and he didn’t waste any time to move you over to the bed to push you onto the mattress. He followed quickly, towering over you as he kissed down your neck, making you moan in anticipation of what would follow. 

He moved further down your body, kissing and nipping on the tender flesh of your breasts before focusing his attention on your nipples. The sensation was almost unbearable and you could feel how your arousal began coating the insides of your thighs. 

Spencer smiled against your skin when he noticed you rocking your hips against his leg every so slightly. His confidence grew as he realized that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. 

“Needy,” he chuckled as he kissed down your stomach. “That’s cute.” 

Right then you couldn’t care less about being in charge, you just wanted to be taken care of. When his lips brushed over your inner thigh, you opened your legs further to give him better access. He lay down between your legs and didn’t waste any time before he began leaving feather light kisses against your folds. 

You watched as he licked his own lips, tasting your essence on them before he found your eyes. 

“You’re so wet,” he teased and let a finger move along your slit. “Is that all for me?” 

He expected a witty response, like you telling him to bring his mouth to good use for once. So it took him by surprise when you simply sighed, “Yes.” 

There was no more game to play. No more back and forth of who was in charge. It was just the two of you, equally as desperate to finally do what you both had been dreaming of for weeks.

“Good,” Spencer whispered, his hot breath tickling your core, before he finally granted you some relief. 

His tongue moved through your folds, collecting your taste before he focussed on your most sensitive spot. He experimented with different motions for a few moments, paying attention to your reactions until he found what you enjoyed the most. Your hand flew to his hair, your fingers intertwining with his curls to hinder him from moving away – even though he had no intention to do so, anyway. 

With one arm wrapped around your thigh he hindered you from bucking uncontrollably against his face while his other hand found your entrance, letting two fingers slip into you with ease. He moved with great precision, adjusting the angle and the pace according to your reactions, bringing you closer to your breaking point with every second passing. 

The sounds of your pleasure filled the room as you began dancing along the brink of euphoria. With just a few more skillful motions, he pushed you over it. Your walls pulsed around his fingers while your entire body shook. He worked you through your orgasm before he lay back down beside you, placing a gentle kiss against your lips. 

You were still panting when you found his eyes. The warm amber of his irises was almost completely swallowed by his pupils, the lust visible in his eyes contradicting the saccharine smile he showed you. 

“You okay?” he breathed as he wrapped one arm around your waist. 

“Yeah,” you confirmed while one of your hands moved down his body. 

Tentatively, you let your fingertips brush along his length, feeling his velvety skin under your touch. “Now what are we gonna do with you?” you purred as you wrapped your fingers tightly around him, making him gasp. 

With a torturously slow pace, you moved along his cock. “Tell me, Spencer. What do you want?” 

“I uhm…,” he audibly swallowed. “I have a condom in my pocket.” 

The fact that he brought a condom to your hotel room when he came over early amused you. He never had any intention of just talking to you. 

“So, you want to fuck me?” 

“Yes,” he admitted unabashedly. “If you want that, too, of course.”

With a nod you confirmed that that was exactly what you wanted as well. Right after you let go of him, he grabbed his pants from the floor to take out the foil wrapper. You watched as he ripped it open and carefully rolled down the condom. 

Then, he kneeled down between your legs, taking a moment to admire the beauty of the woman in front of him. 

“Come here,” you cooed and he leaned over you without hesitation. 

Reaching between your bodies, you guided him to your entrance. He closed his eyes when he slowly entered you, relishing the sensation of stretching you open inch by inch. When he was fully inside you, he kissed you before he began moving with slow thrusts.

Wrapping your legs around his hips, you brought him even closer. When he was sure that you could take it, he accelerated his pace, fucking you against the mattress until you were sure you would lose your mind. 

Spencer’s body began trembling and he suddenly stopped moving. 

“Sorry, I’m really close,” he whined and tried to pull out slightly. 

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded as you kept him in place with your legs around him. “Please, I need it.”

One of your hands moved down to where your bodies were joined to desperately draw circles around your little nub, making you clench hard around his hardness. 

“Fuck,” he whimpered as he began moving again. “I can’t, ah–” 

With just a few more deep thrusts Spencer came, his cock twitching inside you as his whole body shook. It was enough to throw you over edge too, entering a state of pure bliss together with him. After you had both come down from your high, you welcomed him inside your embrace, your fingertips gently dancing over his back as he caught his breath. 

For the sake of getting cleaned up you separated for a few moments, only to lay back down together soon after. A shaky breath fell from Spencer’s lips and caught your attention. 

“So…,” he began talking but didn’t continue. 

You propped yourself up on one elbow to find his eyes. “Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask if maybe–” 

“You want me to send you that pic again?” you interrupted him with a grin on your face. 

“No,” he laughed. “I mean… that’s not what I wanted to say.”

Still in a teasing mood, you snickered, “But you would like to see that pic again?”

“You know what,” he chuckled as he lifted the blanket to get a peek at your naked body. “I think I actually prefer this.”

“Good,” you chirped. “If you want to see more of me you’ll have to take me on a date though.”

Placing a soft kiss on your lips, he whispered, “Deal.”

Thank you for reading! Please like, reblog and leave a comment to show your support and help me stay motivated to write more stories!

Taglist: @adoredfromafar @grumpyy-bearr @frickin-bats @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @xserenax-13 @alexxavicry @samuel-de-champagne-problems @evvy96 @reidsbookclub @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebs-oxygen @nomajdetective @kobaltdragon @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @castiels-majestic-wings

[ham1lton]

EVERYTHING IS EMBARRASSING ?

pairings: max verstappen x podcaster!reader

faceclaim: taylor russell

summary: you run the number one podcast on spotify, agonyauntie, and your dream guest is max verstappen. too bad for you that he hates podcasts.

or the one where your podcast is max’s guilty pleasure.

author’s note: clearing out drafts.

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liked by yourbestfriend, alexandrasaintmleux and 1,837,892 others.

yourusername: after a month long hiatus, agonyauntie is back with bigger and better stories. i’m excited to share the newest episode with you on all of the available channels.

please tune in so my mom won’t regret letting me drop out of university to pursue airing people’s dirty laundry on the internet. thank you xoxo

view all comments

user1: WE WON WE WON HELLO!!!!!

user2: will you ever top mango man? i don’t think so.

-> yourusername: trust me user2. we will.

user3: the way during the hiatus the podcast was still #4 on the spotify chart is crazy.

-> user4: WE COMIN FOR THAT NUMBER ONE SPOT YUP!!!

user5: prettiest girl ever. you need a youtube channel so we can see that facecard.

-> user6: she said she prefers podcasting to making videos because she’s awkward asf 😭

-> user7: real omg

-> user8: she’s so me.

user9: who is this 😻

-> user10: yn yln! she’s the creator and host of agonyauntie, which she started back in university. it was originally a radio show in which people would email her their problems and she’d tell them advice. it went viral when she did the episode of ‘mango man’ (just google it, it’s hilarious) and then she moved to a podcast format so it was more accessible. it went to number one and she’s halfway through s2. it’s so good!!! honestly you need to listen to the episodes.

landonorris: SO EXCITED YESSSS 🤩

-> user11: always at the scene of the crime

-> user12: how many fandoms is this guy in? 🤨

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AGONYAUNT! season 2, episode 7.

[soft jazzy intro music fades out]

yn: okay, this next email is… wow. honestly, when i read it, i had to sit back, take a sip of tea, and whisper, “what the actual hell?” to myself. so naturally, i had to include it in the episode.

let me just read it for you.

[mock-serious tone as she reads aloud]

“hi yn, first off, i love the podcast. you’re literally the only person i trust to handle this because everyone else would either call me crazy or tell me to dump him, and honestly, neither of those options feel right (yet). anyway, here goes: i think my boyfriend is trying to become a bird.

i know that sounds like i’ve lost the plot, but please hear me out. it started small—like him watching a lot of bird documentaries and casually saying things like, ‘owls are the wolves of the sky’ (which i didn’t think about at the time because men say weird things constantly). but then he started doing… bird things. he whistles now. a lot. not cute whistling, yn. it’s more like he’s calling for backup.

then last week i caught him eating sunflower seeds—not out of a bag, but cracking them open with his teeth and spitting the shells on the carpet. the carpet, yn. he’s also been spending suspicious amounts of time sitting on the windowsill ‘for the breeze’ and called a pigeon his ‘mate’ the other day like they’re friends now??

but the final straw? he built a nest. like, an actual nest. i came home from work to find him on the couch surrounded by twigs, string, and what i think might’ve been my missing socks. he said it was ‘just a joke,’ but when i asked why there were eggs in it, he got all defensive and said i ‘wouldn’t understand.’

so now i don’t know what to do. do i confront him and risk him flying away (literally)? or do i just let him… become whatever he’s becoming? pls help me yn. i miss my normal boyfriend who used to just binge-watch love island and occasionally make me toast.

cheers, girl who might be dating a parrot.”

[pause for comedic effect]

yn: okay. wow. first of all, thank you for this email. genuinely, it’s given me a lot to think about. like, this man has gone full National Geographic, and you’re just… casually living with it? incredible. i’m so glad you came to me because i don’t think your friends would’ve taken this seriously enough, and frankly, neither will i, but we’ll do our best.

so. is your boyfriend trying to become a bird? honestly, yeah. sounds like he’s halfway there. whistling, befriending pigeons, eating seeds like he’s at a football match—this man is leaning in hard. and i have to say, the nest? iconic. horrifying, but iconic. he built an actual nest in your home. he didn’t just think about it; he did it. that’s commitment.

but here’s the thing: you have to ask yourself, are you okay with this? like, if you imagine your life five years from now and you’re still with him, is he going to be perched on top of the fridge, squawking about how you don’t appreciate him? or is this just a phase? because maybe it’s temporary. maybe he’s stressed, and this is his way of coping—some people journal, some people go bird-mode.

what i suggest is this: sit him down for a chat. calmly ask, “babe, are you going through something? or are you genuinely preparing to molt?” like, we need clarity here. and if he doubles down on the bird thing, you have a choice to make. either support him and start buying bulk birdseed, or set him free—preferably in a park, not near any major roads.

also, maybe keep your eye on those eggs. i don’t know where he got them, but i’d be concerned.

anyway, good luck with your pigeon-man. i wish you nothing but the best, and if it escalates, please email me again. i have to know what happens.

[transition music fades in]

yn: right, let’s move on before i spiral into a full TED talk about men and their inability to handle hobbies normally. honestly, this man saw blue planet one time and said, “that’s my personality now.” unbelievable.

[music fades out, next segment begins]

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liked by landonorris, ynsfanpage and 1,727,908 others

agonyauntie: our newest episode is out next week, here are three clues about what it will include.

(hint: the middle one is that our host will be involved. spoiler alert! 😉)

view all comments

user1: omg it’s MAX VERSTAPPEN

-> user2: who tf is that

-> user3: exactly like yn said celebrities as guests

-> user4: he’s literally famous? he’s a formula one star???

-> user3: okay congrats

-> user4: ??

-> user3: girl idk what u want me to say idgaf abt that man 😭 good for him getting the krabby patty formula one or wtvr

user5: OMG MAX AND YN…

-> user6: new ship name needed asap

-> user7: new job application needed ASAP!

user8: omg what if yn and max get together? he’s her dream guest and she seemed a little into him om the live she did watching the f1 race.

-> user9: um he’s literally gay i just googled it…

-> user10? HUH?

-> user9: his fiance is charles leclerc i just read how they met on this gossip website called ao3. very cute. it also told me more about obama’s secret lover, some guy called harry styles. you should check it out.

-> user10: u grown as hell and u can vote. the world is a scary place.

user11: AND NEXT GUEST WILL BE LANDONORRIS LETS PRAY TOGETHER 😎

-> user12: lando we know it’s you take them glasses OFF!

-> user11: 🥲 🕶🤏🥲

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author’s note: hi :) just looking for some feedback. send me an ask with what sort of fics u guys like. idk what to post. have a lot of drafts. also idk this will get a pt2. i just want it GONE! sorry <3

[i-get-obsessed-fast]

Classroom Talk | Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer drops your lunch off to your classroom filled with apparent love experts, who then question the man you’re with and tease you two for not being married yet…

A/N: idk why but I just thought of this, it’s adorable though. Not proofread too tired for that. LOL.

BYR(b4 you Reid): light teasing, Spencer getting kind of bullied by teens, and fluff :))

You were at your desk, deep in teacher mode. Grading assignments, updating the grade book, the usual rhythm of a productive day.

You glanced up and saw your students working quietly for once, either reading the latest chapter you’d assigned or scribbling their thoughts in journals. It was that rare magical moment every teacher silently prays for: peace.

Naturally, it didn’t last.

There was a knock at the door.

Every single head turned in unison. Including yours.

“Hello.” A familiar voice said, soft and polite, peeking into the room like he wasn’t about to cause utter chaos.

Spencer.

Your brilliant, shy, awkward boyfriend. Standing in your classroom.

You blinked, stunned. “What are you doing here?” You asked, smiling like this was the best little surprise.

“Someone.” He said, raising a brow and holding your bag up. “Forgot their lunch at home.”

You walked over to meet him halfway, shaking your head. “Wow, I didn’t even realize.”

His hand instinctively went to your waist as he handed you your lunch, you turned to face your students, you immediately regretted it.

Half of them were staring blankly. The other half wore smug little smirks, the kind you’ve seen way too many times this year.

You sighed, already sensing the storm brewing. “Everyone, this is Spencer.” You introduced him. He gave an awkward wave and shy smile, very much regretting every life choice that led him to this moment.

“Hi.” Came a chorus of teenage politeness, which was immediately shattered by

“Is that your husband?” Silas blurted. Of course it was Silas.

You chuckled. “No, not my husband.”

“Fiancé?” Someone else chimed in.

“Boyfriend.” Spencer said, trying to sound casual.

“Oooh!” “Awws” “no way” erupted from every direction.

Mia raised an eyebrow. “You have a boyfriend? Why didn’t you tell us? We thought you were lonely!”

You blinked. “I-well- I didn’t think you needed to know about my personal life.”

“Why? We always tell you about ours.”

You stared at them. “That’s…true, unfortunately.”

“I always thought you and the basketball coach would be cute.” Someone tossed out.

Spencer’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

You stepped in. “Okay! That’s enough. You’re scaring him”

The class laughed, clearly delighted.

You turned back to Spencer, lowering your voice. “Thanks for this. Lunch is in fifteen, have time?”

He smiled. “For you? Always.”

You motioned to the chair near your desk, and he sat, awkward but trying. You returned to your seat, praying your students would go back to their journals.

Nope.

Olivia’s hand shot up.

“Yes? Olivia?”

“Why is your boyfriend dressed like he’s coming from a funeral?”

You choked back a laugh, Spencer blinked at you, betrayed.

“Well.” You said sweetly. “Spencer?”

He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “Uh…my job?”

“What do you do?”

“I’m with the FBI.” He said, a little more confidently. “Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

“Boring.” Someone muttered.

Your head snapped up. “Hey! Be nice. His job is actually super important.” You say going to your sweet lovely boyfriend’s defense because only you can pick on him.

“Yeah, shut up. Let him talk.” Silas said.

You raised a brow. “Appreciate the support, not the tone.”

Spencer smiled faintly. “What we do is analyze criminal behavior to help catch criminals. It’s called profiling.”

“It’s like psychology.” You added. “It’s really cool.”

“So you predict what people do? Do me!” Ethan asked.

“Uh…it doesn’t quite work like that.” Spencer replied.

Ethan sighed, immediately unimpressed.

“So you get to catch criminals?” Mia asked.

“Yeah. We do.” Spencer said, nodding.

“Cool.” Silas grinned. “Do you see crime scenes? Are they gross?”

“Very.” Spencer said.

And now they were really invested.

“What’s the worst you’ve ever seen?” Someone asked

Spencer opened his mouth.

“Nope!” You interrupted. “Do not answer that.” The class groaned. “Sorry, guys.”

“How long have you guys been together?” Mia asked.

You hesitated. “Four years. Now get back to work.”

“Four years and no ring? That’s sad.” Silas said. Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“Are you guys scared of marriage or something?” Olivia teased. You and Spencer both looked equally offended.

“No.” You said crossing your arms. “We’re just…comfortable.” Spencer nodded. “We’re happy where we are. Right?” He asked, his head snapping to you for confirmation.

You smiled. “Right.”

“Well, if my boyfriend didn’t propose after four years, I’d dump him.” Mia declared. You shook your head. “When did this classroom turn into a relationship panel?”

“Yeah.” Spencer added. “How old are you guys? Fourteen? Fifteen?”

The room broke into laughter.

Finally, the bell rang. “Thank god.” You muttered, watching them pack up.

A few waved at Spencer, others giggled as they walked past. And then Olivia stopped right next to him.

“She’s a lovely woman. You should really put a ring on her finger.”

Then she was gone.

Spencer turned to you, you were already laughing.

“She’s not wrong.” You said making your way to him, grabbing his hand. “I am pretty lovely.”

“I am never stepping foot in this classroom again.” He said. “That was more stressful than interrogating a serial killer.”

“Oh, come on. I think they liked you.”

“Really? Because that comment about the basketball couch felt very personal.”

You laughed and nudged him. “You’re focused on the wrong thing.”

“What should I be focusing on?”

“Marrying me.”

He paused, then smiled. “Noted.”

You walked toward your classroom door, twisting the lock. Spencer was still by your desk, looking mildly traumatized.

“Are you okay?” You asked, trying not to laugh.

“I’ve been shot at less aggressively than I was questioned in here.” He replied, deadpan. “And I sensed one of your students wanting to fight me. I saw the glint in their eyes.”

You laughed. “Well, you held your own. I’m proud of you.”

You moved a chair next to Spencer, and took a seat, unwrapping your sandwich. He watched you for a second, then leaned in with a smile.

“So…four years no ring?” He said, repeating Silas’ line like he was testing it out loud.

You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t you start.”

“Hey, I’m just saying. The experts have spoken. We’re on thin ice.”

“You’re right, should I just elope with the basketball coach?”

Spencer gave a dramatic gasp. “I knew it.”

You nodded. “He is tall, and charming.”

“Wow. Okay, now I am scared.”

You smiled, nudging your foot against his. “You know I don’t need a ring to feel secure with you, right?”

“I know.” He said softly, reaching out to brush your hand. “But also…I don’t not want to marry you someday.”

Your heart did a flip. You tried to play it cool, like your knees didn’t suddenly feel like jello.

“Yeah?” You asked, voice softer.

He nodded. “Yeah. Just…not because Olivia told me to. Although she is very convincing.”

“She is. Probably runs the underground student government.”

“Definitely. But I’ve thought about it before. And I want to do it the right way. You’d deserve something…meaningful. Not pressured by a bunch of freshman armed with sass and curiosity.”

You grinned. “I do love something meaningful.”

He leaned in slightly, teasing. “So…no courthouse wedding tomorrow after work?”

You thought about it. “Only if we go matching in some ridiculous couples costume.”

“That actually sounds incredible.”

You both laughed, the weight of the moment balanced by the natural ease between you. You leaned your head on his shoulder and exhaled.

“I liked seeing you here.” You murmured. “Even if they grilled you like a suspect.”

He chuckled. “Next time, I’m bringing backup. Maybe Morgan.”

“Oh please, if Morgan walked in here, half the girls would faint.”

He smiled, agreeing with you.

You then grabbed his hand. “Thank you for bringing my lunch.”

“Anytime. Next time I’ll bring a ring, just to keep them happy.”

You lifted your head. “If you propose in my classroom, I will throw a dry erase marker at you.”

“Romantic.�� He whispered, his smile never leaving his face, you looked at him, and he kissed your forehead.

“I love you.”

“I love you most.”

SO ADORABLE WTH

- Tag List ~

@alastorssimp @sleepysongbirdsings @khxna

[martiniblues]

JUNO , spencer reid

pairing boyfriend!spencer x fem!reader

synopsis while babysitting henry for jj, spencer’s seeming disinterest with children starts to shift. this makes your mind wonder into unfamiliar territory you and spencer hadn’t spoken of yet: kids.

genre talks of pregnancy and children (duh), very suggestive towards the end but no smut, this is very self indulgent since i can’t get this song or spencer off my mind so here you go lol.

wc 2k?? (i got a little carried away)

“sorry for this being so last minute!" jj scrambled, passing henry over to you along with his diaper bag. the blonde ran a hand through her short hair, adjusting from where the two-year-old played with it upon their arrival. 

“it’s all good, seriously. you know how much i love babysitting this cute thing.” you tickled henry’s side, making him squirm. 

jj’s eyes averted to the figure behind you, pursing her lips. “you sure he’s okay with this?” you turned your head, noticing spencer trying to look at the two of you without being noticed. 

it’s not that spencer didn’t like kids; it’s just hard to know how to talk to them when you were a child genius. 

you turned back to jj, attempting to ease her worry. “he’ll come around to it.” you shrugged, knowing that spencer would either sit and observe or fully engage. no in between.

after bidding your goodbyes, you walked over to spencer, taking a seat beside him on the couch. “so what should we do, little man?” you perched henry in your lap, resting your feet on the coffee table so he could sit against your perched thighs. 

spencer looked at you as if he were the “little man” in question. henry just babbled, throwing his arms around as you cooed. “what do we do with him?” spencer asked, leaning closer into your shoulder to inspect the baby in your lap. 

you laughed at his seriousness, turning to look at your boyfriend. “have you never been around a baby in your life or something?” you teased, lifting henry so he was closer to you both.

“did you know that babies are born with about seventy reflexes? that’s why when you place a baby on a surface to stand, they automatically start doing a stepping motion.” he spoke, watching henry kick his legs as you stood him on your lap. you looked over at him quizzically. “for someone who’s so awkward around babies, you sure do know a lot about them.” 

spencer flushed slightly, “i just haven’t had the chance to be around any until now.” he nudges your shoulder before crossing his arms. 

“well, here’s your chance.” you held henry out to spencer, which made him squirm and mumble yet again. “hold him while i go bring his bag in here.” 

he hesitated, looking between you and the baby as if this were a test. yet, despite the nervousness, he reached out, mimicking your position earlier. when you were content with how henry laid on spencer’s legs, you walked out of the room.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t purposely take your time collecting his things, wanting spencer to have some alone time with henry. finally satisfied with your departure, you peaked your head into the room, nearly melting at the sight. 

the once stiff and nervous spencer you had left with henry was now replaced with a content, smiling one. his voice went up a few pitches as he responded to henry’s nonsense. “oh wow, really?” his lips were pulled into a smile as he played with him, letting henry’s small hand encase his slender fingers. 

you couldn’t help but let your head wander; how could you not? sure you thought about a future with spencer. a future where you were married and maybe with kids, but you had never brought it up being too nervous to scare spencer off.

but now watching him light up with henry in his lap, you wanted nothing more than for your daydreams to become reality. 

“someone wants you back in here, i think.” you snapped out of your daze, focusing on the two sets of eyes staring at you. both holding the same smiles and wide eyes. 

god, you swore you felt your ovaries jump.

“i see that you two are getting along now.” you placed henry’s diaper bag on the table, sitting yourself on the ground before laying out his blanket and a few toys. spencer joined you, placing henry on his stomach, then laid beside you, mirroring the baby’s position. 

“who are you and what did you do with my boyfriend?” you laughed, in awe of how much spencer had adjusted to the small being in just a matter of minutes.

he looked up at you as he shook a little plushie in front of henry’s face. “sorry to disappoint, but this is still your boyfriend,” spencer quipped before you pushed his head jokingly, messing up his hair in the process. 

the sound of high-pitched squeals took both of your attentions away from one another. there henry lay, clapping his hands in favor of you and spencer’s playful fighting. 

“yeah, you like when i show him who’s boss, huh?” you caressed the soft skin of henry’s cheek, making him giggle. spencer sighed, “come on, man, i thought we were really becoming friends” he exasperated, laying his head in his hands dramatically.

this only brought more squeals from the baby, making your cheeks almost grow sore from how hard you were smiling. 

“awe spence, it’s okay.” you egged on your act by petting his hair back into place. this caused your boyfriend to lift his head; a big pout on his lips made yours perk up. 

with your attention being taken away from henry by spencer’s rare expression, you hadn’t noticed the stuffed animal caught between the baby’s hands. before you could do anything, the small bear was chucked into spencer’s face, causing an uproar of noises from henry.

“i’m starting to question this whole babysitting thing.” spencer winced, looking at you as you laughed along with henry. 

 

despite the teasing from earlier, spencer continued to be enamored with henry. him even insisting he help feed and change him when time came.

the whole ordeal feeling so domestic, apart of you wished jj could have spent a couple more days for her and will in favor of you seeing spencer like this for longer.

“thank you, again for taking care of him.” jj propped her hip against the counter as she fumbled for her phone out of her purse.

“of course, it really was no problem.” you turned at the sound of spencer’s soft voice, thanking henry for “helping” him clean.

“honestly, i think someone enjoyed this a bit more than we thought.” you gestured at spencer as he settled henry on his hip, the baby grasping onto his button-up shirt. 

your whole body ran hot at sight. spencer looked really good as a pretend dad. 

“no kidding, the team is going to flip when i show them the pictures you took of them.” she glanced at her phone, noting the off-guard photos you stole of spencer and henry. 

one was of him feeding him as he walked around the living room, another of him explaining some of the books organized on his shelves in a very formal fashion despite henry’s lack of knowledge, and finally one of them eye-to-eye playing on the floor with various toys. 

your heart swelled looking back at them, the questions you had been so careful not to ask begging to be verbalized. 

before you could sink any further, spencer came over, handing jj henry and his bag almost reluctantly. noticing the time, jj was quick to leave in order to keep the baby’s sleeping schedule on track but thanked you guys repeatedly before finally closing the door. 

clicking the lock shut, you mentally prepared yourself for the words about to come out of your mouth. 

“you had more fun than you bargained for, didn’t you?” you met spencer on the couch, him reaching out to pull your legs over his, making your heart leap. 

“i did, actually.” spencer began smoothing his hands up and down your calf before continuing. “honestly when you mentioned henry coming over, i was a little- i don’t know scared? i just didn’t want to disappoint him or you.” he bit his lip like he was stopping himself from letting the whole truth out. 

“oh spence, you were perfect. honestly, i’m very proud of you.” you reached out, caressing the side of his face, causing him to look at you. 

he noticed your wondering eyes, waiting for you to continue. “actually i um…” you shifted pulling your legs under yourself so you could sit up. 

breathing in deeply, you continued, “today kind of got me thinking about us and our future.” spencer was looking at you with such admiration that you had fixed your gaze on your hands.

“i know we haven’t really brought it up before, but seeing you and henry today had me-“ 

before you could finish, spencer’s lips were pressed against yours, resulting in a shocked gasp from you. he kissed you, mumbling words each time his lips parted to take yours in again. 

“i want that, i really do.” he breathed, finally separating from you for just a moment. 

“you want what, spence?” you were in shock, to be honest, knowing what he meant but wanting to hear him say it word for word. 

without another word, he positioned you in his lap, legs straddling his own. “i want a family with you. i want a sliver of what we had today to become ours one day.” his eyes didn’t break from yours, his pupils blown wide and sparkly.

for the thousandth time that day, you had to bite back a smile. “you mean that?” you questioned, one hand coming to comb through his hair and the other resting on his neck. 

he kissed your cheek, forehead, nose, and finally your lips before he spoke. “every single one. i mean, one of you is cute.” he cupped your cheek as he spoke. “but two though? that’s something.” he finished, smirking at you. 

you couldn’t contain your happiness, crashing his lips to yours again feverishly. even though you knew the both of you were in no place to have a kid now, there was no harm in playing with the fantasy for now. 

even if the real thing wouldn’t come to be for a good few years.

spencer pulled you flush against him, one his hands leaving your hips to trail up your spine and settle onto the back of your neck. a moan slipped past your lips as goosebumps erupted on your skin. 

you pulled on his shirt, hinting at where this was going as if it weren’t obvious to the man beneath you. he looked up at you, kissing you once more before dragging you to your shared bed. 

your blouse and shorts were off before your back hit the sheets, spencer still standing ahead of you unbuttoning his work shirt. 

you sat up on your knees, crawling to the edge of the bed to take over. after each undone button, you kissed his skin, making him gasp as his fingers raked through your hair. 

pulling his shirt all the way off, you made your way to his pants, pulling him closer by his belt loop. you bit your lip, noticing the gears turning in his head.

“you know statistics say missionary or doggy are the best positions to get pregnant in.” spencer let out in shallow breaths as his belt clinked on the floor. 

“oh, yeah and why is that genius?” you leaned back on your elbows while spencer finished removing himself of his pants. he took you in, the tiny pink bow on your underwear made spencer rethink his crude response. 

“deeper penetration,” he said almost too smoothly, making you laugh. it was hard to take statistics seriously when you were both nearly naked. 

before he could settle above you, you shimmied up the bed. ridding yourself of the rest of your clothes, you positioned yourself on your hands. looking over your shoulder, you saw the way spencer’s eyes widened in shock.

“have you ever tried this one?”

my first spencer fic omg. lowk crazy because i’ve been obsessed with this man since the ripe age of 12 but here we are. will probably be writing a lot more of him since im rewatching cm at the moment so stay tuned! request box is always open <333

[eideticmemory]

SNAP OUT OF IT | SPENCER REID

Spencer knows he’s just a coworker. He knows he’s just a friend. He knows you’ve got a boyfriend. He just doesn’t really give a fuck!

Word Count: 5.5k

Warning/Includes: Taken!Reader, DownBad!Spencer, a little angst and a little smut.

Dedicated to wifetthew + future mrs stewart (and sidepiece) who inspire me everyday and don’t even realize it.

Spencer vividly remembers the moment he realized he was in love with you. Spencer remembers everything about you but this moment in particular, he recounts in his mind a lot. You had just joined the unit. He could tell you - you'd only been there three months, two weeks, and five days. You were flying across time zones so by the time you landed, it would be six days. Everyone else had fallen asleep or was nearly there. Save for you two. You tried your hand in a round of chess but you're shit at it so you'd taken to a game of cards. Spencer remembers thinking it was the easiest conversation he's ever had in his life. He could talk and talk and talk until he lost his breath and when he was done, you'd do the same until there was no air left in your lungs either. He shuffled the cards between his fingertips, hanging onto your every word, watching the sparkle in your eye as you spoke. He kept firing out subtle agreements between your words like, 'yeah...oh, I know...absolutely,’ not just because it's impossible to disagree with your pretty face but because you’re so smart. You get it. He actually had the thought: she gets it.

Finally, he thought, someone gets it.

And you felt just the same. You said to him, "Thank you for agreeing. No one ever gives a shit about my foreign film analysis."

"I...I give a shit."

You chuckled at the gentleness with which he swore and although his voice was soft, it was genuine. "I appreciate it. My boyfriend's unreasonably against the horror genre as a whole. I think it's his biggest flaw. I like being scared."

Because you were too busy counting up your cards, you couldn’t see the bright smile instantly drop from Spencer's face. He could feel the shift in his muscles, the way his eyes stretched wide. He promptly shifted his gaze down and cleared his throat, “B-boyfriend?"

"Yeah..." you shrugged. Very casual, very nonchalant. "Three years next month."

"Oh, wow," he replied and it sounded kind of snide but you didn't think much of it. “That's nice."

He had realized he was in love with you three years too late.

Spencer could have accepted defeat, yeah. Absolutely. If there's one thing the boy genius can do, it's compartmentalize. This is work. This is [y/n]. This is my coworker. This is our job. This is our jet. These are the cards we've been dealt. The best thing to do would be to play them as they fall. Yet, he keeps himself awake for six hour flights just to hold your undivided attention, to talk about things nobody else cares about. His eyes linger on you as you deliver a profile and he thinks: That's [y / n]. That's her face. That's her voice. That's the sweater that matches her eyes just right and the boots she wears when we travel down south. If there's one thing the boy genius can't do when it comes to you, it's compartmentalize. How could he?

He finds himself standing by the elevator at four in the morning. There is nothing exciting about being called in at four in the morning, save for the prospect of seeing you. The elevator dings and he stands up straight, poses his satchel just perfectly on his hip. He wants to be picture perfect ready. Like a model directly out of a Backup Boyfriend catalog. Although, when you step out, you don't even notice he's there. You storm through the bullpen, your phone held up to your ear and your head ducked down. You sequester yourself in an awkward corner, far enough that you feel secluded but not enough so that Spencer can't see you. He sways in place, an attempt to look casual, his hair tucked behind his ear so he can hear you better. He picks up strained words like, 'please...I don't know...okay...fine...bye!' It all comes to a sudden end, your thumb landing on the screen with such force that it could crack.

You seamlessly join the rest of the team, shoving your phone in your back pocket. Try as you might to shift your focus, the edge hasn't quite left your body so when Spencer asks, "You okay?" You respond with a curt, "Yeah. I'm fine.”

He thinks: That's fine. That's okay. I can take it. On the jet, you bury your nose in a case file and when your phone won't stop vibrating, you silence it completely. Spencer brings you a cup of coffee and you hardly even process it.

"Cream and extra sugar," he pips because he knows that's how you like it.

"Thanks.”

That's it. Spencer waits for more but it never comes. He sits on the opposite side of the jet, watching you pick up your phone, huff, and type, type, type in a rage. He thinks: I cannot take this.

The case is a good distraction. A relief for him to know that even when you are not yourself, you're still brilliant. You just can't help it. There's a moment where he just finishes the geographical profile and you stand at his side, arms crossed as you look it over. Your gasp cuts through the air like a knife and his eyes land on you instantaneously.

"Spencer Reid." You put your hand on his shoulder and oh, he almost drops to his knees. “You're a fucking genius."

You race out of the room and he exhales a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He grips onto his shoulder and his skin is still red hot.

A win is good. You needed a win. You all needed a win. Makes you feel good for something. Makes the flight home much less suffocating than its departure. On top of solving murders in a rush, the mental gymnastics your brain has endured over the week leaves you exhausted. You pull a blanket over your body and snuggle against the solid walls of the jet. You let out this big, heavy sigh just as Spencer sits down across from you.

“Close call today, huh?” he says.

“Yeah,” you nod. You look up at him with these bleary eyes and they’re so beautiful that he doesn’t think he’ll be able to talk.

But he does, “All thanks to you.”

You smile. You want to be bashful, to deny the praise, but you don’t have the energy. “Thanks for the pat on the back.”

“Oh, anytime.”

He watches you take another deep breath, your body lulling into further peace by the second. He hates to disrupt it. “You, uh…” he stutters. “You wanna share what’s been bothering you now?”

You glance over at him from the corner of your eye, “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to a profiler.”

You chuckle. He loves to make you laugh. “It’s nothing,” you shake your head.

“You…you know I’m the profiler, right?”

You sit up, another laugh escaping your throat without much thought. It feels nice. “Yeah. Right.”

“So?”

“I’m just…stressed…” you finally admit, though that part was evident.

“Blackjack?” He sets an array of cards in front of you.

You nod, “I have a stressful job. Hit me.”

He flips another card, “Five. Yeah, you do.”

“And…it’s hard when…when things at home are stressful, too. Makes it worse. Hit me.”

Another card, “Ooh, six. That makes sense.”

“Sometimes, I…I don’t know…I let myself get pulled in too many different directions,” you look over your cards, dangerously close to 21, and you take a leap of faith. “Hit me.”

He turns the final card over and it brings you right to 21. The way it unfolds shocks you, pulls you from your brain fog and you break out in a grin. “21? That’s 21, right?”

“Yeah,” he nods. He bites down on the smile on his lip and it’s a look on him you’ve never seen before. You can’t stop staring at it. “All you, money bags.”

You giggle, “Did you rig that?”

“Me? No,” he shakes his head, casually clearing the pile. “There’s no rigging in blackjack.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. I’ve heard that before.”

“Everything should be that easy for you,” he whispers. There’s a slight change in his tone that even an untrained profiler could pick up. He glances up to meet your gaze, “I’d rig it all for you if I could.”

Now, he thinks because he’s resetting the table that you’re not focused on the subliminal message in his voice. But you notice. You look down at your cards, look back at him, “Hit me.”

When the boyfriend is a concept, an idea trapped inside your phone, a mirage that you only mention in passing conversation, Spencer doesn’t think much of him. Spencer doesn’t think of the motherfucker at all. You clock into work and he’s determined to take the time he can get with you, any way he can, the only way he knows how.

You get back into DC one night and the sun hasn’t even set yet. Emily and JJ invite you out for drinks and it’s with an anxious nod that you accept. So Spencer super graciously accepts. He strides beside you on the walk from the bureau, keeping you tucked in on the safety of the sidewalk because he doesn’t know how to not shield you. From anything. You order a wine and a glass of water. Spencer sits right beside you and orders himself a shirley temple.

You gasp, “Ohhh my god, I should’ve got that.”

“Here,” he slides the glass over to you.

“Oh, no, no. It’s okay.”

“No, take it.”

“I can’t.”

“But I’m offering. I don’t even want it. Maraschino cherries, yuck, gross. You have it.”

You chuckle and shyly grab the drink, sticking a straw in. “Thank you.”

“Mhm,” he nods. And he means that mhm in the way of it’s really no big deal. He’d give you a kidney if he was a match.

He trades you for your water though he doesn’t pay much attention to it. He watches you fall into loud conversation with the other ladies, yours being the only laugh to match Penelope’s in pitch.

You lean into him, cackling, “She’s insane. Oh my god, she’s ridiculous.”

His skin buzzes where your shoulders make contact and his face is bright red from how wide he smiles at you. “Oh, yeah. I could’ve told you that.”

Spencer’s absolutely obsessed with the joy in your eyes, the way you nearly choke on your second shirley temple. The way you’re so close to him. He cannot look away. So when your smile suddenly drops and that joy’s promptly replaced with anxiety, he’s the first to notice.

“Hey,” you whisper to the figure behind him. He turns around and looks the man up and down. “You’re early.”

The Boyfriend shrugs, “Sorry. Hi, everyone.”

He’s not at all like Spencer imagined him. He’s taller. Not as much of a little bitch.

You rise from your seat and wrap your hand around Boyfriend’s bicep. “Uh, this is just some of the team. That’s Emily, Penelope, JJ and, uh, Spencer. This is my boyfriend.”

They all dole out polite waves and smiles. Except for Spencer. He stands up tall and ha, just as he thought, they’re the same height. He gives Boyfriend a stern handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too. Spencer? Heard a lot about you.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Haven’t heard that much about you.”

The ladies exchange confused glances and you exhale a quick breath to cut the tension.

“Well, we’ve been together a while. Too much there to sum up in words, I’m sure.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Spencer nods and here is another smile you’ve never seen on his face before. It’s not genuine. That, you know.

“You ready to go?” Boyfriend asks and you nod.

“Mhm. Bye, you guys!” you wave, falling into the grip of the possessive hand around your waist.

Emily glares at Spencer as he lowers back onto his stool, his eyes not leaving the door even when you’re long out of sight. “You done swinging that thing around?” she mutters.

“Hm?” he hums. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Mhm.”

As Boyfriend opens the car door for you, he can’t help but comment, “So that’s Spencer, huh?”

“Yeah?” you buckle yourself in and it’s an anxious few seconds before he’s buckled in beside you.

“Well, it makes sense now.”

“What?”

“The little toothpick’s in love with you.”

Spencer doesn’t think it’s a coincidence that the time you spend on your phone at work becomes more frequent after that. That you come in looking drained and pale even at ten o’clock in the morning. That, carefully, you distance yourself from him. It’s not a coincidence. It just hurts.

As he reads over a case file, he builds a tower of cards. You can’t help but admire the way his brain splits in two, one side reading and the other stacking each piece just right. It’s cool. You think it’s cool, but there’s not a kind bone in your body today and you snip, “Got nothing better to do?” as you sit across from him. “People are dying.”

“People are always dying. Kind of how we get a paycheck.”

“Mm. How altruistic of you.”

“I’m just passing the time,” he continues to stack. He’s very near the top of the pyramid. “People do all sorts of things to pass time.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you know. They spend hours, days, weeks, years…building something. And you know, you would think that would ensure some type of stability or longevity or…anything, right?”

“I guess.”

“But sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes no matter how much time passes or…how much effort you put in,” he places the final two cards on top. “It’s just not meant to last.”

And with a tiny flick of his finger, the whole pyramid comes tumbling down. You can’t help but watch the picturesque scene, the way they float down onto the table in a big mess.

Spencer doesn’t think there’s a chance in hell that you don’t know what he’s talking about. You’re smart. You get it.

You don’t acknowledge it, though.

That night, you can’t sleep. For some reason, you’ve got this idea in your head that if you force your eyes open for a few hours longer, you can make yourself useful on a case that, so far, has no end in sight. The hotel accommodating the team is a nice one. There’s a library on the first floor that they leave open 24/7, perfect for a profiler on the hunt. You flip through the files in the near pitch black, curled up in a chair beside the tiniest lamp in the world. Despite your eye for detail, you don’t even notice when Spencer walks in. Not until he clears his throat.

You look up at him, startled, until you see his face, “Oh,” not the reaction he was hoping for. “Should’ve known you’d find me here.”

“I like to think I’d find you anywhere,” he shrugs. He sits down in the chair beside you and looks over your shoulder. You can smell him from just a foot away but it doesn't affect you. It can’t affect you. “Any luck?”

“No. Care to help?”

“Not at all.”

“Oh, great.”

“[y/n], it’s late. Nothing you can do without brain power.”

“I just hate…” you start, the exclamation coming out before you can hold yourself back. Spencer watches you intently, hanging onto your voice. “T-the detergent they use on the linens. Gives me a headache.”

He sighs, “Yeah. Me too. I swiped some extra pillow mints. Want one?”

“Mhm,” you hold your hand out and unwrap the candy instantly. It helps your anxiety.

Enough so that you open up just a bit more, you tell Spencer about the headache that’s been bashing against your skull all day. “But maybe I’ve just had too much coffee.”

“Or not enough.”

You laugh, “Yeah, no, that must be it.”

Your phone pings in your lap and you check the message very quickly, the small smile that once sat on your lips dissipating in thin air. Just when he wrangled a laugh out of you, Spencer thinks. Of course. He watches your entire mood change in the blink of an eye and he fucking hates it.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Yeah…tired. Should probably head to bed.”

“But the detergent?”

You chuckle, “I’ll survive.”

On the elevator ride up to your floor, you rest your back against the wall, Spencer perched right beside you. You keep your eyes closed, your hands gripping the bar for balance. The motion doesn’t help your headache. You gulp, clear your throat, and when you open your eyes, Spencer is staring at you. Shamelessly. You furrow your eyebrows at him, tracking his eyes as they focus in on your mouth.

“Are you looking at my lips?”

He nods, “Mhm.”

“Can you read them?”

“Mhm.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh,” that snaps him out of his trance and he stands up straight, shaking his head. The elevator dings and he walks off, exasperated, exhausted, exclaiming, “[y/n], who cares?”

Your jaw drops in shock and by the time you step out to follow him, he’s already marched into his room. You scoff as you burst into your own suite. You crash in bed and you lay there tossing and turning for what feels like hours. In reality, it’s only thirty minutes but it’s long enough. Long enough for this unbridle, illogical rage to build within you. Long enough for your mind to fill with thoughts like: who the fuck does he think he is? What the fuck does he know? Oh, I’ll tell him what he doesn’t know. And you hop out of bed. You storm down the hall in your slippers, knocking on Spencer’s door like, ironically, the feds.

Lucky for you, he was nowhere near asleep yet. He swings the door open and he opens his mouth to speak but you beat him to it.

“Listen, Einstein.”

“I’m listening.”

“Just…just because you don't get it doesn’t mean you have the right to shit on my relationship.”

“Who was shitting on your relationship?”

“Stop it.”

“Fine, I was shitting on your relationship.”

“And that’s not fair.”

“But you’re…” and he enunciates this next word very clearly. “Not happy.”

“Don’t tell me what I am. You don’t know anything. You don’t know me or my life. You don’t get to cast judgement.”

“Oh, okay. Okay. Well, then, I’m so happy for you, [y/n]. I am.”

You’ve said all you need to say and you have no interest in hearing any more. You turn around and march away but he persists, “Hey, I really am. I’ll be the first one to buy something off your wedding registry!”

There are no more card games on the jet for a while.

And that sucks, but you’re trying to prove a point here. Spencer knows nothing. Maybe no one’s ever told him that before and maybe that’s why it stings. Maybe that’s why he can hardly look you in the eye, but you’re trying to prove a point here.

You’ve drawn a boundary that should’ve been drawn long ago. Not even because you wanted to but out of spite. Spite can carry you a long way. It has before. The nature of your work makes it easy to clock in and think of nothing else. Focus on nothing other than getting the job done. It’s the moments in between that are hard.

Like tonight, as you’re typing up case notes at your desk. It’s too quiet. It leaves too much room for opportunity. Taking full advantage, Spencer sets a small gift bag in front of you. You tilt your head as you look up at him, your face etched with inhibition.

“I…” he stutters. “I got it a while ago. Thought it’d be a nice birthday present and I won’t see you tomorrow, so…”

You give him a small smile. The ice doesn’t just thaw, it melts. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” you dive into the bag, pulling out the hardcover book and holding it flat between your palms. You release a small gust of air from your nose. You touch the textured font of the lettering along the cover. “Oh, Spencer.”

He has to act like the tone in your voice doesn’t have the biggest effect on him. Hearing his name in such a gentle whisper. He just shrugs, “I recognized the limited edition cover while I was in this library near the art museum. It’s a nice library, you’d like it.”

“I love it,” you breathe before you can censor it. “The book. I love the book. It’s wonderful. Thank you.”

“I’m glad.”

There’s so much more to be said. The weight of it all vibrates behind your teeth and you grind them together as you gaze at Spencer. He can see your mouth aching to open but he knows it won’t.

“Well…happy birthday.”

“Thank you.”

“I hope it’s a great one.”

“Thank you.”

And you watch him disappear. You feel your heart sink to the barrel of your stomach, like all the words you’re destined to scream out to him are making you sick.

This nausea lasts well into your birthday. No matter the sheer amount of fuss. No matter the amount of texts or calls or gifts that arrive at your door. You’re sick. Even when you put on your fanciest dress for dinner, you curl up in your office with your new book, finally and for no reason, gathering the courage to open its pages and read the quote recounted on the first page.

“And here you come

with a shield for a heart

and a sword for a tongue”

Happy Birthday, [y/n]

Spencer

You slam the book shut and trap it in the drawer of your desk. You’re sick.

You still eat at your birthday dinner. The love and affection reserved for a day like today helps settle your stomach. You think: I am [y/n]. It’s my birthday. These are my gifts. They are from people who love me. This is my boyfriend. This is my birthday cake. It works, it’s working.

Then he pulls out that fucking ring.

The angle at which he kneels in front of you catches the light just right and the diamond blinds you in the eye. Your mind, along with the entire room, falls silent. For the first time in what feels like a lifetime - silence. When his voice cuts through the thick air, you can see his lips moving, you can hear the vibrations going wah wah wah wah wah. But nothing is as loud as the sound of your own breathing, heavy and rapid. Your hands are over your heart but just to keep it from forcing its way out of your chest. You’re sick.

You’re sick.

Spencer had just gotten in bed. He made it the entire day without allowing himself to call you and now he figures he can force himself to sleep. That is until there’s a booming knock at his door. Now he’s wired. He springs into action like it’s not a potential threat and he throws his body against the door to glance out the peephole.

When he opens it, you are still out of breath. Your chest is heaving and you wheeze with every exhale. His eyes travel down your body, the pretty dress and your beaten and bare feet, the heels dangling from your fingers. The look in your eyes is a mystery to him. It’s laced with exasperation and desperation and he furrows his brows trying to figure it all out. Nonetheless, when he sees you moving towards him, he wraps his arms tight around your waist, opens his mouth and gasps as you kiss him.

He’s quick to close the door behind you, stumbling when you drop your shoes to the ground, but only for a moment. No time for stumbling here. He moans at the sudden grip you take of his hair and his body pushes into yours even more, directing you to his bedroom with just the pressure of his chest.

Never expecting this to happen, let alone tonight, Spencer is quick to swipe away all the books that have piled up on his bed. He promptly takes their place and grabs your waist to pull you back into the kiss. You have to hike your dress up your thighs to properly straddle him but once you, he swears he can feel the warmth all the way to his toes.

Your eyes roll back as he licks all over your neck, attacking your chest with sloppy kisses and sudden bites. You feel his erection raise between your legs and the pressure of it has you moaning directly in his ear. The vibration scratches just the right spot in his brain and he bunches your dress up in his hands, the veins along his arm straining through his skin.

You huff, pull back to look at his face, his eyes hooded and hungry. “What…” you pant. “What am I doing?”

Caught off guard, Spencer can’t do much but blink. And shrug. “What…are you doing?”

You stumble over your words, if that’s what you could even call them. It’s more a collection of whines and one short whimper before you simply carry on. Grab his face, catch his mouth and let it go. Perfect for Spencer, because he didn’t really need an answer.

He follows your lead as you undo the tie on his sweatpants. He pushes and you pull until his throbbing cock is free. You don’t mean to gasp, but you do. It just all feels so unreal, like a dream, like a fantasy. Except it’s not, it’s tangible. You can feel it. You can touch him - and you do. You wrap your hand around him and shudder as he grips onto your forearms. His teeth are clenched tight so it makes it harder for him to kiss you, harder for him to breathe but he keeps you locked in place. If he could talk, he’d beg please don't stop, please. Please, please, please.

And it’s like you can read his mind. Through the ferocity with which he pushes his face into yours, the way his hips buck underneath you, you get it. You’ll give it to him. You pull your panties to the side and just the tip pressing against you sends a visual jolt through your body.

“Yeah?” You whisper. More like - right? This is right? Right?

Almost immediately, Spencer grunts, “Yes. Yes. Yeah,” he could say it in a million other languages if it would get the point across but english is good enough. You lower yourself down on him and thoughtless, he yelps, “Yes!” as he falls back on the bed.

Even though he’s transcended his own body, Spencer keeps his eyes locked on you. His gaze follows your jaw as it drops wide open and both of your moans fall in sync as you start to roll your hips. Spencer’s hand clamps down on your thigh, the other reaching up to touch your face. The tender contact makes your vision blurry but you can still see the way he’s looking at you.

He touches your hair and your jaw and takes a soft sweep over your cheekbone. His thumb runs over your bottom lip. He can feel your breath coming out hot and quiet each time you land on him, the rhythm of your body taking the air out of both of you.

Is this really happening? he thinks. This can’t be happening. But you increase your speed, lower your inhibition, send a shock of pleasure through him so good that he has no choice but to believe it’s real. You catch his thumb between your lips and he grunts, whines out for you, “[y/n]…”

“Mm, yes?” you lay your body flat against his, your hands intertwining with his amongst the bedsheets and he clenches his fist tight, tight, tight, tight. It’s all so much. Stimulation coming from everywhere at once. From your chest rubbing against his, from your pussy tightening around him like you’re nearly swallowing him whole. From the messy kiss your lips tangle in and the ever increasing volume from you both.

Spencer bends his knees behind you, supporting your body when your movements become rushed and uncontrollable. With your hand pressed to his chest and your head thrown back, he’s emboldened enough to grope your breasts, losely place his hands around your throat.

“Oh…” you whimper. “G-god…” and Spencer hangs onto the broken sound of your voice, enamored by the way your eyes cross over one another. He feels like he’s not doing much, like his body is still in shock and most focused on keeping himself grounded. As you crash down on him, he bends underneath the pressure, overwhelmed as each bounce grows more deliberate than the last. Each collision accompanied by a throaty, “Mm…mm…hmm.” Until your thighs come to a grinding halt and latch onto him, the orgasm radiating from your belly to your chest and directly to your head. He responds to your boisterous moan with a breathless gasp, catching you in his arms when you land on his chest.

He peppers your shoulder with tiny kisses, licking his way to your neck, biting your throat because he absolutely has to. Your hips continue in this mindless rhythm, draining every last twitch from your body as he whispers, “[y/n]…”

“Hm?”

“[y/n]…I, mm,” you catch his voice in your mouth, pushing your tongue between his lips. You attack his neck. You push his shirt up his torso just to move down his body and kiss his stomach.

“[y/n]…ah!” and though you love the sound of your name on his lips, you love to hear him scream even more and after you suck his cock into your mouth, he can’t stop screaming. Mouth open, body trembling, ear ringing moans. He reaches down to keep your hair out of your face and his hips jolt a bit rougher than he means to. He wants to look at you but his body is too taut. He wants to hold you in the palm of his hand, to call out your name one last time to make sure this is real. But he shoots into your mouth, his legs flailing around your frame, and all he can do, still, is scream.

You hum. You swallow. You slide off of him with a sharp pop. You crawl off of his body and drop as soon as your head hits the pillow. Spencer’s hand keep track of you, grazing your thigh, sad to feel you leave, begging to keep you close. Even as he struggles to breath, he balls up the edge of your dress in his fist. You lean back against the headboard, looking up at his ceiling fan, your body finally exerting all its energy and unable to move any further. The room has settled into nothing but the sound of heavy breathing and catharsis.

Spencer looks up at you and when you make eye contact with him, there are so many more complicated thoughts you could have. But the only thing that swims in your mind is the slow bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. You rest your knuckles on his cheekbone and he promptly grabs your wrist, peppers soft kisses all over your hand.

You owe him something. He has every right to ask. As he opens his mouth, you’re prepared to tell the truth. You will give him nothing but the truth.

“Did you see they’re adapting another Stephen King novel into a movie?”

You exhale a small laugh. Partially because you weren’t expecting it and partially because you had been dying to talk to him about it. “Yes. And I think it’s stupid.”

“Me too! I mean, the premise is promising, I think it can be done, but it’s the…”

“Supernatural element.”

“Yeah!”

“It’s hard to pull off. Major chances of it turning out cheesy and robotic.”

“Yes! Thank you! I’m still going to see it.”

“Oh, me too,” you laugh and his laughter blends in just perfectly.

It can wait. There’s a lot to catch up on. A lot of questions to ask and answer but for now, it’s easy. This, Spencer thinks. This is it. This is actually the easiest conversation he’s ever had in his life. And he’s not gonna fuck it up now.

Author’s note:

Ahh 😝 thanks for reading!!! Like, reblog, comment, all the things!! Just wanted an excuse to post this meme. Stay safe out here 😚