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thecursedanon · 8 months ago

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Amusement Park Shenanigans

Alternate title: Never agree to go to an amusement park w/ Gojo. Characters: Switch!Yuji, Lee!Nanami(technically switch!Nanami, but only briefly.) Ler!Gojo, Megumi, Nobara. (brief mentions of Shoko, Suguru and Haibara.) Genre: Fluff (also some hurt/comfort if you squint enough at certain points) Word count: 6388 Description: Gojo decides to take the students to the amusement park, and drags a very unwilling Nanami along with them... after trying to failing to convince Gojo to let him leave, and one too many grumpy remarks from Nanami, Gojo decides to do what Gojo does best... cause absolute chaos. Part 2: (click here)

It was a comfortable day, the weather was beginning to cool down as they just entered into fall. The leaves began to change into varying shades of amber or red, and everyone seemed a bit more light and cheerful at the beauty of the changing season.

Well… not quite everyone…

You may not be very light or cheerful if you were stuck at an amusement park chaperoning a gaggle of students.

“Can we leave now?”

“Aw come on, Nanami,” Gojo pouted. “Lighten up! We're at an amusement park, you mean to tell me you're not having any fun?”

Or if you were Kento Nanami.

“Not in the slightest.” He retorted, still unsure just how he ended up accompanying them to begin with. It’s entirely possible Satoru had suggested he tag along and rather than argue with him, which would require paying attention, he half listened and just agreed to whatever childish assertion he had made.

Satoru grinned at his friend’s discontentment. “Where's your sense of childlike adventure and amazement?? Just look at Yuji, he's having fun.”

The white haired teacher gestured to Yuji, who was currently stumbling around the park like a baby giraffe learning to walk, evidently dizzy from one too many go-arounds on the rollercoaster they just returned from.

They had stopped in an out of the way area of the park so that the boy could recover… which evidently wasn’t going well.

The pink haired teen eventually lost his fight with gravity and fell over, if this had been a cartoon you probably could have seen stars circling around his head.

“See? Childlike amazement.”

Yuji gave a grin to the others, a dazed look on his face. “I'm having so much fun!! Just tell me when the ride is over!”

Nanami gives the boy a silent look of concern as he sighs.

“Alright alright, take five, ya finger eating freak.” Gojo laughed and bent down to pat the pinkette on the head. “But hey, don't just take Itadori’s word for it--” Suddenly Gojo was beside Nanami, whispering to him. “Because the kid is a little… strange.”

The next moment, Gojo was beside Megumi, who had a bright pink sakura flower balloon tied to his wrist and looked as though he was being held there against his will. “Megumi, you're having fun with your beloved sensei's, right?”

Megumi grunted in annoyance. “Somehow this is worse than that time you rented a bouncy house when I was ten…”

“Hey, kids love bouncy houses!” Gojo argued.

“Too bad it wasn't for them.” The edgy teen sighed, recalling what was apparently a painful memory for him.

Satoru pouted, pinching his emo son’s side, producing an uncharacteristic yip from the boy. “You can't argue that it wasn't a totally fun Friday night!”

“Fine… allow me to rephrase my question.” Nanami readjusted his sunglasses with a sigh, not bothering to cover up his annoyance with being dragged to a place full of people on one of his mythical days off. “Can I leave now?”

“Haaaah?? Why would you want to leave???” Gojo reacted as though he'd just witnessed a terrible accident in slow motion… kind of like Megumi recalling the bounce house incident . “This is family bonding day! And last time I checked you're still part of this family-- whether you like it or not!!” he quickly added at the end, sensing Nanami was about to deny it.

Nanami glanced at the group of kids they were chaperoning. “You know I hate amusement parks.” He said, this time quieter so only Satoru could hear him.

Gojo blinked in confusion from behind his sunglasses as he tried to pull a lost sequence from his memory. Did he know that? Now that he mentions it… he did recall something about an amusement park… but what?

While Satoru was silent (for once), Nanami took this as his chance to really try to convince him. “And besides… I doubt the kids would even notice I'm gone.”

Satoru stared blankly at the blonde, still attempting to force the two remaining neurons that weren’t focused on being a menace to spark the memory that was just evading his grasp… Can you hear the dial up tone?

“Hey… that’s not true!” Yuji interjected, pulling himself together as he stumbled towards his father figure. “I’d notice you were gone.”

Nanami’s face softened as he looked at Yuji. “Itadori… wouldn’t you have more fun running around with your friends? I’ll just slow you all down.” he responded, his tone less harsh than before.

“No way, I won’t have nearly as much fun without you here.” He frowned, hitting Nanami with one of the classics… the puppy dog eyes. (dun dun dunnnn)

“Y-Yuji.” Kento warned, shifting his gaze uncomfortably away from his student but no matter where he looked there Yuji was… leaning more and more into the act.

“OH! I remember now!” Gojo said suddenly, inadvertently startling Yuji and causing him to fall over, evidently still not fully recovered from all the roller coaster rides.

Nanami flinched inwardly as Gojo leaned closer to him. “What?”

“Come on, Kento… how can you say no to that sweet boy? He looks like he’s about to cry…” The chaotic teacher cooed at Yuji as he resumed his puppy dog eyes… from his new spot sitting on the ground.

Nanami huffed, turning away again as he crossed his arms. “Itadori… Just because that works on Megumi and Gojo doesn’t mean it’s going to work on me..”

“How hurtful! I think you owe us an apology for being so grumpy…” Satoru mused, winking at Yuji as if to tell him to follow his lead.

“I am not apologizing to you…” Kento grumbled, briefly shooting a glare to the white haired man.

“No? Be reeeeeally sure about that before you respond.” Gojo warned the blonde teacher.

“I said no.”

Satoru sighed softly with an almost threatening grin on his face, slowly slipping his sunglasses off and attaching them to his shirt collar. “I didn’t want to do this… but you leave me no choice.”

Nanami scoffed and turned back around to face him, upon locking eyes with the older man, he felt a familiar wave of panic flood over him. “Satoru…” Panic he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Gojo grinned even more as he rolled up his sleeves, approaching him slowly. “Yes, Kento?”

“Wh-What are you doing…?”

Kento mentally swore at himself for backing away from Satoru, he should be standing his ground right now… but that look… he recognized that look a little too well. And he didn't like it… (or did he?)

“Well, since you’re being such a grump I figured I’d fix your attitude for you.” Gojo hummed, a predatory glimmer in his eyes as he began to close the gap between them, raising his hands. “A few pokes here, a few squeezes there… and a whole bunch of tickles right there and voila! Good as new! One happy giggly Nanami ready to spend time with us without much complaint!”

Nanami’s eyes widened as he felt the color drain from his face. “Satoru… I will end you if you do this in front of the students.” he hissed as he began to back away again.

“What students? They’ve all scampered off… well, except for that kiddo right there.”

As if on cue, Itadori hooked his arms around Nanami from behind, grinning at the soft gasp he received. “What's wrong, Sensei? You look a little nervous…” the teen grinned.

“Itadori,” Nanami struggled in his hold to no avail, Yuji was using all of his strength to contain the stoic teacher in a bear hug, pinning his arms to his sides to stop him from breaking free. “if you don't let me go right now, so help me…”

“Threatening the students now, Nanami??” Gojo gasped melodramatically, slowly reaching his hands forward towards his squirming torso. “I'm shocked! Now I really have no choice but to adjust your attitude~”

Kento paused, his eyes catching sight of the slightly wiggling fingers that were inching closer. He felt another wave of panic rush over him, but attempted to not let it show, steeling his face as he forced himself to look away from Satoru. “Yuji… please let me go. I'm sorry for upsetting you.” He tried his hand at reasoning with the student as a last resort.

Unfortunately, he didn't receive any support there either. Yuji smiled, angling his head upwards to rest his chin on the back of Nanami’s shoulder. “There's no need to be sorry… I know crowds aren't really your scene.” He sympathized. “But… I did mean what I said. I do want you here… so I'm sorry for ambushing you like this.”

“Oh, so you can apologize to him, but not me??”

“Of course I can, I actually care about him.” Nanami retorted dryly, despite his impending doom.

Satoru gasped, his eyes dancing with amusement. He leaned in closer, speaking in a quieter tone. “You know, Nanami… if you wanted to be smothered with tickles so badly, all you had to do was ask~”

Satoru leaned back, allowing his teasing words to sink in for full effect before cracking his knuckles dramatically. “Alright Itadori, make sure to hold him niiiice and still for me, okay? Our dear sweet Nanami here turns into a wiggle-worm when he gets laughing.” he grinned as Yuji nodded in support, tightening his arms around him, but not so much so that it caused him any real discomfort.

“Both of you… this is ridiculous.” Nanami sighed, hoping if he didn't give the reaction he was looking for hoping that he'd grow bored quickly and go back to whining… as much as Kento hated his incessant whining. “Can you both stop being so chi--” he promptly stopped mid sentence as he felt Satoru grab his sides, lightly fluttering his grip.

“I'm sorry, what was that Nanami?” Gojo grinned. “I didn't quite catch that… what should we stop being?”

Kento took a subtle steadying breath, locking eyes with his tormenter with a blank look on his face. He didn't even dare to so much as flinch when Gojo touched him.

“As I was saying… can you both stop being so childish?” He answered calmly, outwardly unfazed by the maddeningly light teasing touches Satoru was administering to his sides.

Inwardly though… he was struggling to maintain his composure, trying desperately not to show any signs of weakness despite how god awfully, completely and utterly ticklish it felt...

“Childish? Nanami… there's nothing wrong with a little tickling, It serves as a great bonding experience!” Satoru said cheerfully, leaning in closer to tease the blonde. “Especially when you're as ticklish as we both know you are…~”

Nanami choked back his retort, focusing his efforts on keeping his icy composure. “Satoru… the last time you… did this- was when we were in school together.” He reminded his colleague, careful with his words so as not to fluster himself any further than he already was inside. “I've long since grown out of that childish sensitivity…”

But unfortunately nothing slips past Satoru and his infamous Six Eyes, the cheeky little bastard.

“Oho, did you now?” He raised his eyebrows in amusement at his bold assertion, taking his defiance as a full blown challenge. “Well in that case, you shouldn't mind this then… right?”

He walked his fingers slowly up and down his sides, inching closer to his ribs with each trip up.

Nanami broke eye contact with him in an attempt to not react, feeling flustered at the teasing look in his eyes. “Of course I mind it… I don't like being touched by you.”

Yuji blinked, surprised at his calm and even tone. Had this been him instead of Nanami he would've been on the ground in a heap of giggles by now. “Hmm…”

Gojo knew better though, he knew he was slowly chipping away at his defenses. He could see the subtle cues, feel his muscles twitching. “Yes, Yuji? What ails you, my dear boy?” He asked, glancing over Kento’s shoulder to meet Yuji’s gaze- well, what he could glimpse of it with how the pinkette had his face angled, anyway.

“Maybe he's right,” Itadori said with a note of genuine seriousness. “Maybe he's not ticklish anymore… I know I'd be a mess right now.”

“Well, that's because you're hopelessly ticklish~” Gojo teased his student with a wink, grinning at the flustered look Itadori shot him. “So is Nanami though, maybe even just as bad as you.”

Nanami clenched his jaw in aggravation, barely resisting the urge to blush. “I am not. And stop talking about me like I'm not here!”

“But he's not reacting… not even his breathing is off.” Itadori ignored his teacher's protest, continuing to converse with Satoru.

“Well, Itadori, that's because Nanami here is what we call; ✨stubborn✨, and also shy.” Gojo grinned at his students' newfound curiosity, using this to his advantage as another form of teasing. “He needs some gentle reassurances that it's okay if he gives in to the nice tickly tickles and starts blushing and giggling like a schoolboy.”

“Shut up. I most certainly do not giggle.” Nanami hissed in protest, feeling his face flush.

Whoopsie, that was a big chunk of his facade chipped away, watch your step everyone…

“Aww, see? He's already getting blushy.” Gojo cooed, brushing his fingertips against the bottom of the blonde's ribs. “It's okay, Kento… I don't mind being patient. That cute little laugh of yours is well worth the wait.”

Nanami took a sharp intake of breath, hating the feeling of how each gentle swipe across his ticklish midsection was chipping away at his sanity. “It's not… cute.” He forced out from behind gritted teeth.

Itadori raised an eyebrow, feeling his sensei tremble ever so slightly in his hold. “Does he really have a cute laugh?” He asked, grinning.

“No!”

Gojo laughed at Kento's quick rebuttal. “Yuji, come now, what about Nanami isn't utterly adorable~?” He continued dancing his fingertips lightly across what wasn't blocked off of Kento's ribs. “You know what's reeeeeally adorable about him?”

“What's that?”

“That he can't handle being teased... He gets extra giggly and blushy~” Gojo grinned, leaning in to speak quietly to Yuji, but just loud enough for Kento to still hear. This somehow made the snarky bastard's teases worse.

“Dammit… st-stop it already…!” Nanami huffed, squirming uselessly.

“Naaanami… does this tiiiiickle?” He teased, cooing at him like a damn toddler.

The younger teacher let out a growl of frustration, turning his head to face away from Gojo in a weak attempt to hide his darkening blush. He felt his body beginning to tremble as Gojo completely demolished his defenses.

“Come onnn… let us hear that adorable laugh~” he grinned, deciding to take things up a notch. He honed in on the sensitive spots between his ribs, giving light scratches to the area.

“Stop… I mean it…” he growled, forcing back any embarrassing sounds that may have tried to escape his throat.

“What's this?? Do I see a smile on your face? but I thought you weren't ticklish anymore, Kento. What gives?” Gojo teased, grinning devilishly.

“Maybe he's finally starting to have fun spending time with us.” Yuji grinned. Thanks Yuji… we knew we could count on you to not bully Nanami too.

“Ooo, maybe! Does that mean you're actually going to ride the Ferris wheel with me?”

“Not on your life.” Kento hissed, his lips trembling as they formed a panicky smile.

“Aww! You're so mean to me…” Satoru whined, an evil glimmer in his eyes as he stilled his movements. “Fine then, since you're going to be so mean, maybe I'll go for your extra tickly spots… now where were those again…?”

Nanami froze up as he felt Gojo pull a hand back to tap his chin in thought. In the process of doing so, he skimmed his fingertips against Nanami's waist, more specifically along the edge of his stomach. “S-Satoru…”

“Where oh where were those…” Gojo mumbled to himself, unable to keep the grin off of his face as he dropped his other hand, his fingers grazing Nanami's hip. “Oh… I just can't remember… the years are really starting to affect my memory!” He reached up to gently tap Kento's forehead to add emphasis to his words, but on the way up he brushed his fingers lightly against his neck.

Each ‘accidental’ touch, caused Nanami to flinch, the older of the two making sure his victim was well aware he knew exactly where his worst spots were… in his own chaotic Gojo way, of course.

“It’s a shame, really.” Satoru sighed, while he had Nanami distracted and on edge he mouthed a command to Yuji.

The pinkette grinned mischievously, nodding his compliance as Nanami watched his other teacher cautiously.

“But, what can ya do? That's just life… as we get older, we become slower to react.” The white haired man shrugged, making sure both of his hands were perfectly visible as he did so.

And that's when he struck.

Itadori, without moving too much, reached down with a clawed hand and clawed into the spot along his waist that Satoru had sneakily pointed out earlier, having seen that Yuji was paying attention. (For once.)

Nanami gasped sharply, barking out an involuntary laugh. Shock crashing over him. “No, I-Ihihitadohohori!” The dam finally broke, laughter pouring freely from his lips. “Wahahahait!”

Satoru let out a low whistle. “What's this? I thought big scary Nanami wasn't ticklish anymore?” He smirked.

Nanami blushed, unable to stop the laughter that spilled forth. “Gojoho Ihihihi swehehear… I'm gonnahaha kihihihill you!” He threatened, though his words were… less than intimidating to say the least.

“Wow, you were actually right, Gojo.” Yuji chuckled. “His laugh is pretty cute.”

“Itadorihihi Hohohow could youhuhu?!” Kento's complaints about Yuji's betrayal were broken up by his warm, light laughter.

Yuji grinned, moving around with his writhing teacher. “You also weren't kidding, he's really squirmy!”

Gojo smiled at the two of them, his mischief briefly shifted into warmth as he was brought back to a happier time.

Watching Yuji and Nanami now, he sees years of anguish and pain melt away even if just for a moment.

For that moment, Satoru can see a young Nanami being absolutely destroyed with tickles by Haibara, Geto and himself while Shoko shakes her head and giggles at their antics.

It's definitely been far too long.

Gojo blinked, bringing himself back to the present. “Geez Yuji, I told you to keep him still.” He chuckled at how Itadori was practically hanging off of Nanami's back as Nanami had managed to double over with laughter.

“Hey, it's a lot harder than it looks!” Yuji laughed, his fingers dancing relentlessly along the side of his stomach.

“You have superhuman strength and can call on the power of the king of curses… and this is difficult for you?”

“Listen--” Yuji laughed again. “I can be strong all I want, but there's only so much I can do without any help!”

“Surprisingly wise words from you, Itadori.” Gojo grinned mischievously. “Alright alright, I'll help.”

He reached forward, grabbing a hold of Nanami whilst simultaneously administering some quick sneaky tickles to Itadori.

“Hehehey! Do you want mehe to fall?!” Yuji complained, trying to shift away from Gojo's soft pokes and scribbles while keeping his balance.

“Ehh… you've already fallen twice today… What's a third time?” He grinned, tickling Itadori’s neck with one hand, and targeting Nanami's hip with the other.

“Nohoho! Sahahatoru gehehet away!” Nanami laughed, trying desperately to escape the two tickle monsters he had attached to him.

Itadori let out a childish squeal as he flailed, finally falling off of Nanami’s back. He still had a partial grip on his mentor and ended up pulling him to the ground with him.

Gojo laughed, releasing both of them from his tickly hold.

Nanami had managed to twist around, catching Itadori and breaking his fall with his arm.

Itadori giggled softly as he recovered from the tickles. He felt Nanami carefully press his hand into the back of his neck, then his shoulder, then brush against the back of his head silently assessing the teen making sure he wasn't hurt.

Had it been Gojo who had fallen with him, he wouldn't have cared, and not bothered trying to break his fall. But since it was Itadori- he didn't want him to get hurt.

Once he determined Yuji was okay his body went limp, resting back against the ground while he focused on steadying his breathing.

“Thanks a lot, Gojo…” Yuji huffed, a smile still etched on his face.

“To be fair, I didn't say who I was helping...” Gojo teased, kneeling down beside the teen.

Kento huffed indignantly, his arms tightly wrapped around his middle as he caught his breath. “You're both terrible…”

Satoru turned his gaze to Nanami, an evil smile on his lips. “Oh, Kento… you didn't honestly think I was done with you yet, did you?” His blue eyes sparkled with a predatory glimmer as he launched himself onto the blonde, thanks to limitless Nanami wasn’t able to put up much fight.

“Really?” Nanami glared up at him, his sunglasses long since fallen off his face from all his struggling earlier.

Satoru smiled triumphantly from his spot on Nanami’s thighs.

“You can’t even take me on without the use of your stupid limitless ability?” The stern teacher asked dryly, knowing any struggling his did would be pointless. He wasn’t going anywhere as long as Satoru kept limitless active.

“I thought I’d save us some time… we both know I was gonna overpower you anyways.” Gojo grinned, leaning down and draping his body lazily across Nanami’s to keep him more securely in place, and in doing so he was able to murmur teases into his ear. “All I’d have to do to get the upper hand is…”

He grabbed a hold of the blonde’s hip and began squeezing them relentlessly. “This…”

Nanami gasped sharply, unable to grab the offending hands because again, limitless. “Sahahatoru! D-Dahahahammit stop!”

“Or this…” Satoru shifted his hands upwards, scribbling his blunt nails against the sides of his stomach over his shirt, drawing even louder laughter from the blonde. The fact he could barely move to protect himself made it so much worse.

“Or… this.” Gojo grinned, pressing his lips to his neck and blowing a raspberry against it whilst administering gentle scritches.

“SHIHIHIHIHIT!” Poor Nanami couldn’t even arch his back with Gojo a firm weight against him.

“I think you should’ve just rode the ferris wheel with me.” Satoru teased, blowing another raspberry.

“EHEHEHENouGH Alreheheheady! Ahahahaha!”

“I thought you didn’t giggle, Nanami sensei.” Yuji grinned in amusement, sneaking in some teasing pokes to what he could access of Nanami’s ribs.

Gojo grinned, angling his body in a way that the pinkette had more access the right side of his body while still keeping him firmly held down.

“You didn’t seriously-” small raspberry. “--believe him over me-” slightly bigger raspberry. “--did you?” BIIIIIG raspberry, followed by what Kento would firmly deny was a squeal. Because if he doesn't giggle, then he CERTAINLY doesn’t squeal.

Itadori giggled at his reactions, scooting closer to scribble his fingers up and down the side of his ribcage. “No, but I also didn’t have a basis to doubt Nanami either.”

“Oh yes you did.” Gojo laughed, pulling his face away from the blonde’s neck to glance at Itadori. “You had to know he was lying the minute he denied being ticklish still.”

Well fine… If he can’t get Satoru then… “Ihihihi-- I thohohohught Ihi told you tohoho stahap talking about mehehe like I’m not here!” Kento shot his hand out, grabbing hold of Yuji’s side and giving it fluttery squeezes, drawing surprised laughter from the student.

“Aieee! Hehehehehey! Hohohohow are you moving?! Stahahap that!” Yuji squealed as Kento latched onto his ribs next. “Gohohohohojo hehehehelp!”

“Nahhh… You’re a big boy… you can deal with him yourself.” Satoru grinned, alternating between his hip and stomach side with gentle scratches. “It’ll be a good training exercise for you… let me juuust… piss him off a little more for ya~”

“Gohohohohojo!”

“Sahahahahtoru, I swehehehear to god!”

Satoru ignored both of their protests, pushing his shirt up so he could attack his exposed skin directly. “So If my memory serves correctly, your ticklish spots are as follows,” he grinned, sitting upright. “Hips, Neck, this cute spot here~” he emphasized by fluttering his fingers briefly against his stomach sides. “Ribs are decently tickly… Am I missing anything, Nanami? Am I hitting all the nice tickly spots?”

“S-Satoru… dohon’t.”

“Don’t what? I didn’t even say anything yet.”

“I mean it…”

Satoru grinned. “But Kento, I promised to smother you with tickles… and I wouldn’t wanna disappoint you. So come on, answer my question~”

“Go to hell.” He hissed in response.

Gojo’s grin widened. Welp, nice knowing ya, Nanami.

“On second thought, maybe I will help you, Itadori.” He reached out and grabbed Nanami’s wrist and yanked it away from the pinkette, pinning it above his head quickly and firmly. In a flash, he snatched his other hand and pinned it above his head as well.

Yuji fell back with his arms around his midsection, giggling softly as he panted from the after tickles.

“Gojo, let me go right now.” Kento growled.

Satoru leaned down, grinning that evil grin at him. “Do you really think you're in a position to give me orders?”

“What are you… no… don’t you dare-- nononono!”

Gojo leaned down further, pressing his lips against Kento's exposed stomach and blowing a giant raspberry against it, eliciting an honest to god shriek in response.

“NAAAHAHAHAHAHA! GAHAHAHAD DAHAHAHAHAHAMMIT!” He let out another shriek as the arrogant teacher dispensed yet another devastating raspberry against his toned abdomen.

Yuji sat up, stunned by the sound of his loud laughter. “Holy shit, Gojo don’t kill him!”

The teacher in question grinned, placing another raspberry against a different spot on his stomach. “Jealous, kid? Don’t worry, I have plenty of tickles to go around.” He winked at the pink haired student, who giggled nervously and wrapped his arms around himself subconsciously.

“GOHOHOHOHJO STAHAHAHAHAHAAP!” Nanami pressed out between deep belly laughs, his face flushed and his eyes tightly shut.

“Aww, but why when you’re having so much fun?” Gojo teased, placing another raspberry. “I remember this used to be your favorite~”

“I SWEHEHEHEHEAR TO GAHAHAHAD, I WIHIHIHILL EHEHEHEND YOU!”

“Man, you’ve definitely gotten more stubborn and resilient… usually by now you would’ve been apologizing profusely and crying with laughter while begging me to stop.” Gojo chuckled, pausing his ruthless onslaught. “Or maybe…”

He leaned back to admire his handiwork, Kento a breathless blushing mess beneath him. “Maybe you don’t really want me to stop…” his grin widened when he saw Nanami open his eyes and attempt to glare at him.

“W-Why would… you possibly think that… i…” He gasped out softly, still attempting to catch his breath.

“Well… why else would you be so grumpy and resistant this whole time unless you wanted to egg me on?”

“To be fair… he is normally like this.” Yuji pointed out.

Satoru shifted so that he could hold both of Nanami’s arms down with one hand, using his newly freed hand to administer swift tickles to Itadori’s side. “Excuse me, but whose side are you on anyway???”

Yuji squealed and recoiled sharply from Gojo’s skilled fingers. “Ihihi wahahas just being hohohonest!”

“And now you’ve distracted me and given him time to think out his response,” Satoru huffed. “You’re definitely gonna get it later, now.”

Itadori squeaked, wrapping himself back up with his arms.

“Well Kento? I’m waiting, why are you egging it on if you don’t like it?” The older teacher turned his attention back to the now less breathless blonde, thanks to the intermission brought to you by Itadori and his big fat mouth.

“Because I don’t want to give you the satisfaction of breaking, that’s why.” He retorted, his face less flushed than previously.

“Ehh! wrong!” Satoru unleashed another tickle attack, his fingers scribbling all across his neck. “Try again!”

“Sahahahahatoru Stahahap!”

“Not until you admit it.” Gojo smirked.

“Ahahahadmit whahahahat?”

“Admit you missed being wrecked, ya big softie!” He cooed, tracing his fingers along each rib.

“I dihihihihidn’t!” Nanami yelped, squirming as much as he could under his colleague’s technique.

“Wrong again. Itadori, be a peach and come help me, won’t you? It seems Nanami requires more reassurance.”

“Ihihihitadori dohohohon’t!”

“You’re not going to tickle me again, are you?” Itadori asked carefully, eyeing his teacher suspiciously.

“I will if you don’t get your ass over here In the next five seconds.” he responded, an evil glimmer in his eyes.

Itadori let out a sound that could only be described as a whimper as he quickly shuffled over.

“Gojo, Itadori… don’t even--” His protest was interrupted by another shriek as Gojo blew a massive raspberry against his stomach side.

He released Nanami’s wrists, which Yuji instantly snatched up and pinned down. Gojo used his newly freed hands to drill his thumbs into Kento’s hips as he continued his torturous trail of raspberries and tickly death along his stomach area.

“NAAAAHAHAHAHA! SAHAHAHAHATORU DOHOHOHOHNT!”

“You know how to make it stop, Nanami~” Gojo hummed, administering another devastatingly massive raspberry against the side of his stomach.

“JUHUHUHUST WAHAHAHAIT UNTIL I GEHEHET MY HANDS ON YOU, YOU SOHOHOHON OF A BIHIHIHIHITCH!” The usually stoic teacher threatened between bouts of uncontrollable laughter.

Yuji snickered quietly. “He’s definitely stubborn...” the pink haired teen grinned, shifting so that he could pin Nanami’s hands down with his knee. “Let me take a crack at it!”

He began to claw at his mentors exposed ribcage, his fingers gentle but quick as they expertly sought out sensitive spots. “Nanami~ Does this tiiiiickle?” Yuji teased.

“IHIHIHITADORI! KNOHOHOHOHOCK IHIHIT OFF! STAHAHAP HELPING HIM!”

Gojo chuckled, pausing his attack to glance up at Itadori. “You’re getting pretty good at this, I’ve taught you well~”

Yuji grinned at the praise from Satoru. “Heh… thanks. I’m just doing what tickles really bad from my own experience.”

The pinkette noticed the higher he moved up Nanami’s ribs, the more he struggled. “Gojo… are you sure those were all of Nanami’s ticklish spots you named off earlier…?”

“Hmmmm? Think I missed a spot?” Satoru played along, grinning that cheshire grin at his student. “It’s entirely possible… he never did confirm or deny if I named ‘em all.”

“Nanami?” Yuji looked down as he stilled his hands, allowing his teacher to attempt to catch his breath. “Did he miss a spot?” he asked innocently, but that smile on his face was anything but.

“I swehehear to god…” He panted. “Whehen I get my hands on you…”

“Now Nanami… that doesn’t sound like an answer to his question~” Gojo grinned, prodding his stomach side and producing a small yelp.

“It’s okay, Gojo.” Yuji responded with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “I’ll find out for myself.”

Then he struck. Digging mercilessly wiggling fingers into his armpits.

And boy, did Nanami absolutely lose it. Any semblance of composure? Yeah no, gone, we don’t know her.

Much like Yuji isn’t going to know peace when Nanami gets his hands on him. Rip Yuji lol.

“AAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” He absolutely howled with laughter, struggling with all his might to break free. “NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHERE! AHAHAHANYWHEHEHERE BUT THEHEHEHERE!”

“WHOA! Gojo you didn’t just miss a ticklish spot, you missed the ticklish spot!” Yuji found himself laughing along with his mentor in amusement.

“It looks that way,” Satoru smiled, shaking his head. “So, Kento? Anything you wanna say?”

He grinned, leaning down and placing his elbows on either side of the hysterical blonde, resting his face on his hands as he watched him. In doing this, he was almost entirely draped over him again, greatly limiting his movements.

“SAHAHAHATORU I HAHAHAHATE YOU!”

Satoru chuckled, “Not quite… I think what you mean’t to say was, ‘Satoru, I actually love spending time with all of you.’ and ‘I actually like being tickled.’”

Yuji giggled, speeding up his tickles.

“GAHAHAHAHA! I-I CAHAHAHANT… PLEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAP!” He cried with laughter, tears prickling at the corners of his tightly shut eyes. “PLEHEHEHEHEASE YUHUHUHUJI!”

For a moment, Itadori felt a little bad and looked at Gojo, who shook his head. “Trust me, kid… you’re gonna wanna keep going.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me.” was the blue eyed teacher’s vague and careful response.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!” His laughter started to become hoarse as he tried to hide his face in his bicep. “OKAHAHAHAHAY OKAHAHAHAY! IHIHIHI’LL RIDE THE STUHUHUHUPID FERRIS WHEEL WIHIHITH YOU!”

“Noooo… we’re way past that, the other paaaart.” Satoru reminded teasingly, pinching his side.

“AHAHAHA! FIHIHIHIHINE!! I LIHIHIHIKE SPEHEHEHENDING TIME WITH YOUHUHUHU GUYS!”

“Aaaaand?”

Oh, Gojo was sooooooo going to get it when he got ahold of him.

“What the hell are you guys doing?”

Yuji looked up, grinning upon seeing Megumi standing there; pink balloon and all. “Hey Megu-- ACK!”

Nobara came running out of nowhere and knocked Yuji off of Nanami. “Hey, stop picking on Nanami!” she scolded.

Satoru sighed, grinning. Eh… close enough. He rolled off of Nanami lazily, remaining propped up on his elbows next to him.

“Ow! Jeez Nobara! It’s not like I was hurting him or anything, you didn’t have to knock me over.” He mumbled, sitting up.

“He very clearly was struggling to breathe.” Megumi pointed out, eyeing Satoru. “I’m gonna guess this was your idea?”

“How’d ya know, Gumi?” He asked cheerfully.

“Whenever there’s chaos going on you’re the cause.” The edgy teen pointed out, sitting on the ground with the others to feel included.

“Are you okay, sensei?” Nobara asked, helping Nanami up into a sitting position. “Want me to kick his ass?”

The blonde shook his head, a smile still on his face as he struggled to catch his breath. “No… That won’t… be necessary…”

Yuji giggled, leaning over and hugging Nanami. “Sorry I went a little overboard… It was just really nice to see and hear you laugh… I hope you’re not too mad at me.”

Nanami sighed as he (mostly) caught his breath, he reached up and hooked his arm around Yuji’s shoulders, cupping the back of his head as he pulled him closer into the hug. “I’m not mad… embarrassed, but not mad…”

“Why are you embarrassed?” Yuji pulled back slightly to look up at him, confused.

Nanami retorted with a ‘You’re joking, right?’ expression on his face.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, we all goof around like this all the time.” Itadori grinned, beaming up at Megumi, who quickly looked away to avoid blushing at the implication. He then turned his gaze to Nobara, who also looked away with a casual whistle.

“He’s right,” Satoru chimed in, sitting upright. “It just means we really like you when we pick on you like this.” Yuji nodded in agreement.

“You could like me a little less.” Kento muttered.

“You rested enough to chase down Itadori?” Satoru asked, grinning.

“Not quite…”

“Why would he chase me down?” Yuji pulled away from Nanami, eyeing the stern teacher carefully.

“Ohhh… I forgot to tell you.” Gojo grinned more. “Yeah, there’s a reason I ‘forgot’ his worst spot… It’s because he absolutely destroys anyone who targets it as retaliation.”

Yuji squeaked, noticing the evil glimmer in Nanami’s eyes.

“Yeahhh… Let’s just say ratio can be used for more than pain… Suguru and I learned that one the hard way.” He snickered at the terrified look on Itadori’s face.

“Y-You set me up!”

“I did nothing of the sort, you’re the one who decided to try that spot.” Satoru grinned. “I’d probably start running if I were you… the more tired he is the more head start you have, and since you’ve wasted so much time letting him recover… I’d say you have about a minute to get as far as humanly possible before he hunts you down.”

Yuji yelped and sprung up, taking Gojo’s advice and running away, causing the others to laugh.

“Hey, Megumi, where’d your balloon go?” Nobara asked.

Megumi smirked and shrugged. “Beats me…”

Nanami was about to get up and go after the pinkette when Gojo leaned forward, hugging his colleague, causing him to tense up. “I’m sorry, Kento… I forgot you used to go to the amusement park with Haibara on the weekends…” he whispered. “But I think he would still want you to go out and have fun… I know Suguru would want that for me.”

Nanami untensed, frowning as he thought about his deceased best friend. He hugged him back hesitantly. “I miss him… a lot…”

“I know… I do too.”

After a moment they let go. “Hey Satoru…?”

“Yea?”

“...Thanks…” He looked away as he quietly continued. “I… needed that.”

Gojo grinned. “Anytime, buddy~”

Nanami looked around curiously. “Now then, which way did Itadori go? I need to have a talk with him…”

“He went that way.” Nobara pointed off in a direction.

“He should be pretty easy to spot,” Megumi said casually, sipping his drink. “Just look for the person running frantically with a pink sakura balloon attached to his belt.”

Nanami smirked, nodding his thanks as he got up and took off after the pink haired teen.

“I so wanna see this…” Nobara giggled, getting up too. “You coming, Megumi?”

The raven haired teen shook his head, to which Nobara shrugged at and went running after them. “Nanami sensei, wait up! I wanna help!!”

Satoru chuckled and shook his head before turning to address his adopted son. “Did ya have fun today, kiddo?” he asked as he ruffled his dark hair.

Megumi grunted in response.

A shriek nearby distracted them momentarily, causing them both to laugh. Evidently Yuji had been caught.

“I’ve had worse days.” The teen answered, standing up with his parental figure.

Gojo grinned, his face brightening as he threw his arm around his edgy emo son’s shoulders, pulling him into him as they began walking. He knew that was Fushiguro for; ‘Yes dad, I had a wonderful time today.’

“Good. Now then… let’s go get some snacks or something, I saw they were selling cotton candy as big as your head at one of these stalls…”

“I'd be more impressed if they had cotton candy the size of your mouth.”

#jjk tickle #jujutsu kaisen tickle #sfw tickling community #tword community #tickle content #tickle fanfic #Lee!Nanami #Ler!Gojo #Switch!Yuji #Lee!Nanami my beloved #Gojo being Gojo xD #this started as a joke in my brain #but then i just started coming up with funnier ideas while i was heading home from work #and i was driven by my desire to add to the lee!Nanami population wheeeeee #Gojo is a teasy bastard ler and you can't convince me otherwise #poor nanami never stood a chance #yuji my sweet summer child...#how easily youre roped into his shenanigans #okay but ratio being used to make ticklish people even more ticklish??? where do i sign???#Suguru and Satoru both being little shits and getting wrecked by ticklish!ratio brings me so much serotonin <3 #megumi is a mood as usual #he's so fed up with everyones shit but still plays along because he likes to be included #whoops how did that balloon get there?#p.s nanami totally didn't mind the tickles bye #I intended to add Inumaki & Maki & even Panda but didn't want to make this even longer #whoopsies...#also rip Yuji #he's probably deceased now that Nanami got ahold of him #Gojo's next lmao #I kept cracking up laughing at the childlike amazement part and i'm not even sorry for it

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mylittleredgirl · 8 months ago

Text

[and the rest of the post!]

...... but her circumstances have recently changed.

by cutting frank out of her life (both because she wants a future he's not offering and because she wants to punish him; i have plenty of thoughts about that too), she has eliminated her only source of friendly human contact. she and frank bonded over being hated by everyone else! they encouraged that in each other! but now... she’s all alone.

hawkeye is now in the business of making digs on frank's behalf, and that's another social avenue closed off. she was becoming friendly with both hawkeye and b.j. — they're the first people she told about her engagement! — but (largely because of how clueless and obnoxious she was in that episode) frank got the swamp rats in the divorce, so to speak.

so she's lonely to the point of distress, but she's so boxed-in by her inflexible belief in power structures and has been terrorizing everyone since we met her, so she can't easily walk that back without... abandoning her hold on those power structures long enough to apologize (which i noticed she doesn't do in this episode, but when in her whole life would she have ever seen an authority figure apologize?). and taking a cheese grater to her ego, because it's not like people are going to immediately embrace her, so she'll deal with rejection while she tries to change.

and what if they make fun of her to her face instead of behind her back — which is worse??

i find it telling that they call her 'hot lips' when she's not around — and i'm sure she knows they do. in the script, the act one tent scene is much longer, and the nurses debrief the O.R. shitshow and then drag margaret for a page and a half before she arrives:

and then on-screen, when mary jo tries to protect gaynor (the one on the top bunk with dark hair):

sorry for the gazillion caps; i swear this is actually the readers' digest version oh my god

having this episode right after "lt. radar o'reilly" is such a brilliant accident, because dear sweet radar just put words to the tragedy and loneliness of military success. radar was jealous of the officers in theory, but is so much happier back among the grunts, because it's better to take disrespect and abuse from above together than to take it from below while isolated and alone.

from season 5 "lt. radar o'reilly":

which is exactly what's happening here!! margaret has wanted this promotion all her life, but she probably didn't picture having it in the middle of nowhere. she has no family waiting at home for her at night, no peers she can relate to, not even a terrible boyfriend in her tent anymore. she barely knows her absent fiancé; would she dare send him an honest letter about her day that isn't all sunshine and idealized presentation?

so with all that, whether or not she deserves it, i love that the nurses offer her an olive branch at the end.

earlier, margaret started the professional reconciliation by finally allying herself with the nurses and protecting them in front of colonel potter. it's long overdue; up until now, we have only seen variations of the opening O.R. scene, where she criticizes them in public instead of rising to their defense. this part of their dynamic is entirely on her to mend — no one else can help her.

and then, later...

the nurses are far more emotionally aware than she is. this is the best possible move they could make — it defuses another potential standoff, and it's their way of thanking margaret for letting baker off the hook. it shouldn't have to be up to them to change the culture and improve their relationship with their supervisor, but they're honestly more capable of it. and it's very sweet how margaret immediately responds.

the nurses are all adult women who value their social connection with each other, and they recognize someone in distress who doesn't really know how to initiate kindness, and took a chance to show her. <3 <3

i hope this improves things for everyone! i think it will! and i definitely hope margaret thinks long and hard about all this, because if she lets it, it could really change her life.

tl;dr: poorly socialized feral cat domesticated by the mortifying ordeal of being known and one (1) cup of terrible army coffee.

[i reblogged the tumblr post where i found the script here.]

i know some of you have been pressing your faces to the glass waiting for me to see this one in particular SO i saw "the nurses" the other night and am still thinking about it!!

i love love love it when characters get pushed to a point where you can almost see their childhood selves pop out, like are they even talking about what's happening right now? or are their 12-year-old hearts just screaming?? i love that margaret's outburst is both irrational (the hostile work environment is coming from inside the house; i was yelling at my tv "baby it's your fault!!!") and so so honest.

[this turned into a bit of a character thesis, so not only is there a readmore, there will also be a reblog soon with the rest of the post because i maxed out the image limit!]

this whole time, margaret has treated her subordinates with a heavy hand because she thinks it's the right and fair thing to do. the rules say this is how it works!

she maintains a high standard of excellence in brutal circumstances, but she's also reactive, moody, and unforgiving. she's often shown on the edge of losing control and authority, she inflames situations by overreacting, and the thing she punishes most egregiously is disrespect (toward frank, toward the army, toward herself). she intentionally underlines the distance between herself and the other nurses at every turn.

from season 3 "there's nothing like a nurse": [all IDs in alt]

really, everything she thinks and does comes from a place of "they're not supposed to like me," but the childish part of her that is completely unable to see her own behavior is confused and hurt because "i'm just doing my job so why don’t they like me???"

it's her job to maintain discipline, but especially here in 4077-land, she doesn't have to lead with the whip. henry was beloved because he was an overly permissive clown, which will never be her speed, but colonel potter has all the same training as she does. he's loved and respected as the Good Regular Army Guy because he leads with discernment and mutual respect.

it's easier for him. he's more experienced, he's respected and supported from above and below, and he has a calm temperament — which isn't nothing.

from season 4 "the interview":

whether she's aware of this as a problem or not, we at home can see how margaret's inability to control her emotional reactivity causes her as much grief as her inability to control other people.

if she were capable of laughing off small slights, hawkeye and trapper wouldn't have used her as a chew toy so much, and henry might have taken her real concerns more seriously if they weren't lost in the noise of daily fits, you know? she rarely started it, so i'm not blaming her for the hostile chaos circus of seasons 1-3, but i am saying she would have had a better time if she knew how to take a few deep breaths.

this description from the script, after the near-brawl in the nurses' tent in act one, is basically her character thesis statement:

and here, when she's reacting fully emotionally, the truth comes out! the reason that she won't be flexible and show compassion to the nurses isn't because of the rules, but because they're mean to her!!

that's obviously a very bad place to lead from. she has enormous institutional power over them, including controlling their freedom of movement, but she feels like all the other girls in school are hanging out together and they hate her. because they are! and they do! the fight in act one boils over when they make fun of her hair, and that sent all of them back to middle school.

and in many ways, that's where margaret's emotional maturity is stuck (which is, i think, why i find her so endearing). she can't see herself. she knows they don't like her, trust her, or want her around, but she doesn't understand how she dug this hole herself, or how to get out of it.

to add insult to jealous injury, one of the nurses (mary jo, who gets between margaret and baker to stop the fight and takes care of the others in different ways) is margaret's age, and the others look to her as their chosen leader and personal support.

and i'm sure margaret had NO IDEA this was the messy truth until she heard it come out of her mouth.

and her emotionally breaking on the "one lousy cup of coffee" in particular…

i wonder, how often does some version of that first tent scene happen? does she deliver their assignments every night? she walks in already defensive, they immediately stop laughing, and then... she either finds a reason to scold them or they ice her out until she leaves. (and they probably start laughing again as soon as she does!)

from her perspective, when she arrived for the dreaded sleepover and they turned out the lights the minute she walked in, it's like they cancelled the nightly coffee klatch just to avoid spending one social minute with her.

i also think the nurses are right when they assumed that she wouldn't have accepted an invitation to hang out with them (and might even have snapped at them for being inappropriate for asking). she doesn't cross that emotional line, even when she should — she didn't know gaynor was spiraling after losing so many patients in a row, and didn't respond compassionately when she learned.

has she ever invited them for coffee or a friendly chat? no.

...... but her circumstances have recently changed.

[reblog coming soon with the rest of it!]

#whew!!!!#apparently i think about her a normal amount #i want you all to know how very restrained i was actually in keeping this to the episode and not pouring out all my ill-informed headcanons #since i have seven seasons left of character knowledge still to go #but i can't help imagining what margaret's experience was as a junior officer herself because i suspect it was the time of her life #and maybe she had a supervisor who was also super strict (which would help her thrive!) but was more fair about it #(and probably didn't have a frank burns around to constantly defend on the job)#so margaret would have loved this supervisor and seen her colleagues do the same even though they got tough love in return #and so margaret just doesn't see the difference -- so is stuck in the 'why don't they like me?????' and can't see the answer #(even though the answer is so! obvious! to everyone else!!!)#mashblogging #margaret houlihan #<- in case anyone is coming from afar and sees this i don't usually use character tags it's all just a mashblogging junk drawer #so feel free to dig around the rubber bands and paper clips #mash #edit: whoops forgot two caps they're in there now #deep dives

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tinystarbites · 2 months ago

Text

accidents pt. II | Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops pt.II The Reckoning /j, this is basically just 10k words of porn with feelings yikes

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst (still Spencer feeling he isn't good enough 😔), EMOTIONSSS, Spencer STILL loves you so much, he gets a hug, and so much more!, talk about sex, detailed asking for CONSENT (be safe people), sex (piv), some frottage, uhhh what else, dirty talk, some dom/sub understones (sub!Spencer ofc), little bit allusion to subspace, Spencer discovers so many kinks in this awww we're so proud of you bby (mentioned kinks: praise kink, squint of liking being embarrassed, tiiny bit of a voyeristic thing), also I made him a virgin whoops so virgin!Spencer, proofread but prolly not perfect lol. Tell me if I'm missing any tags I am so tired

(also, Spencer will be bisexual in all of my Spencer fics because I am not a coward like the writers were and I will honour Spencer the way he was intended to)

HERE you can read pt. I, I do recommend it to have context and all but do whatever you want lmao I'm not your mother anyway have fun being completely wrecked like I was while writing this!! also thanks so so MUCH for 400 followers and almost 2k likes on the first part, you guys are the best and I hope you enjoy this fic as a thanks!!<333

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Spencer’s never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.

His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-

It’s you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he can’t just-

“Spencer?”

He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-

“Uh, yeah, just a second!”, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-

He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and –

“Okay, I’ll just…chill with that weird plant here.”

An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.

After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that it’s not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.

And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.

For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.

“Hi.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesn’t know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.

You’re not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelope’s.

“Hi to yourself”, you chuckle, “Can I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?”

Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.

“Only seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.”

He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you don’t hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.

Spencer’s breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his body’s response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is… a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious he’s trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isn’t enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.

The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what you’re thinking.

“Spencer”, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didn’t make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. “Do you hate me?”

“Wha-“, he sputters your name, “No- no! Of course, I don’t- whe- why would you think that?”

You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. “Because you’ve been acting hella weird these last few days and you won’t tell me whyyyy”, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else he’s just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.

“I haven’t been acting weird, really, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-

“Is it because you saw my nudes?”

Spencer almost breaks his neck with how fast he whips his head down to look at you again. A strangled noise escapes him without permission and what. What.

“Because, that would actually explain so much, especially the way you’ve been acting and really, that’s probably on me because I’ve always been telling myself to put them behind a password block but I somehow always manage to forget that because apparently I have only one braincell left that’s stuck spinning on the deep-fried version of Funky Town and well, I guess I’m glad it was you that found them and not someone else and-“

“What? No, no, I didn’t- What- that’s not- what-“, Spencer cuts off your rambling with a horrified, screeched version of a protest because how- how could you have guessed what’s going on with just one try? Is Spencer so- so absolutely besotted with you that he’s so obvious? Spencer is so very confused and overwhelmed with whatever the hell is going on, he kind of misses the slight twitching of your mouth.

“Come on, Spencer. I said it’s fine and basically my own fault. Uh- well, actually… sorry. Because, well, that’s probably not very work-appropriate… I will pay for your therapy session, just send me the bill.”

Spencer thought he’d reached the limits of confusion seconds ago but apparently, he hadn’t. What. What are you even saying?

“Therapy sessions?”

You just- ignore him.

“Oh, also, please don’t tell Hotch? He’ll be pissed, despite me literally just doing hot-girl shit, y’know-“

Oh, Spencer cannot take it anymore.

He says your name and, “Stop, please, please, just-“

You snap your mouth shut, pulling your lips between your teeth and Spencer definitely doesn’t miss the way you have to force your mouth to stay still this time.

“Are you- is this a joke?”, Spencer asks, frazzled and desperate and so confused he just wants to bury his head under the duvet and never come out again. Because if you don’t actually know but- are just joking around, oh Spencer is overwhelmed, alright.

Your expression changes into something panicked then. “No, no, Spencer, sorry. I’m- sorry. Of course I’m not joking, I’m so sorry. It’s just a little bit too easy to tease you. Sorry.” You actually look apologetic now, lips downturned and frowning slightly.

“Not joking- so… so, you know?”, there’s something big and anxious pressing inside of Spencer’s chest. The urge to hide away and never face daylight again intensifies tenfold. He’s flushing before he realizes, hands trembling and breathing a bit too fast to be considered normal. Oh god, you know, you actually know, you’re going to- you’re never going to speak with him again you are probably here to tell him how weird and- and-

You must’ve noticed the frenzy he is thinking himself into, because you reach out with one hand and gently nudge his thigh with one knuckle. “Spencer”, you say, voice serious and steady and not the slightest bit disgusted or harsh and it snaps him out of his anxiety spiral.

“I knew the second I walked back into that room after you basically fled the precinct. I am, really, genuinely, sorry for making you uncomfortable. Like, it wasn’t actually my intention for you to see them. And then, after I realized what… I just wanted to wait and see what you’d do, if you came to talk to me or, well…”

You sigh, the hand that nudged him ruffling through your hair.

“I didn’t handle this situation very well. I’m really sorry. So… “, you trail off, scrunching your nose in that adorable way of yours that makes Spencer want to kiss it until it scrunches even further because you’d laugh and try to fight him off.

“We can just- forget about this. Forget that it ever happened, or-“, you hesitate again.

Spencer feels suddenly breathless. Like he stands in front of a cliff face, seconds before taking the step to send himself careening towards something immeasurably great or devastatingly fatal.

“Or…?”, he breathes, voice small and unsure.

You meet his eyes again after what feels like hours. There’s something intense in them, burning, and it’s like an electric shock to Spencer’s system. He’d give anything for you to keep looking at him like that forever.

“Or”, your hand returns to his thigh, but this time you let your fingers travel along the shape of it and Spencer whimpers. The burning in your eyes intensifies and Spencer feels hot, suddenly, so hot he’s burning with it. “Or we can do something else.”

“Something else?”, Spencer basically croaks because his throat is so dry and it’s difficult for his body to function properly when you are touching him like that.

You hum in agreement. “Whatever you want. You can tell m-“

“You.”

You look a bit startled when he cuts you off with that one, desperate syllable. Startled but also endlessly amused and Spencer just- his mind is apparently turned off, what the-

You laugh quietly, and your eyes soften, and it does something to Spencer that leaves an ach-y feeling in his chest. Oh, he loves you so much he can’t take it.

“Sure. You can have me”, you say simply, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world for you to admit, “Tell me what exactly you want, because I’d give you the world if you asked.”

And suddenly there’s hot pressure behind Spencer’s eyes, at the back of his throat. You’re just- just- amazing and so lovely and so kind to him, no one has ever said something like that to him, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Spencer blinks up to the ceiling, desperately willing these stupid unwelcome tears away because crying about you treating him kindly is so on the bottom of the list of acting casual about this, so he rather feels than sees you sitting up next to him. Your hand slips from his legs and he feels the loss of your touch as if someone sucked the marrow from his bones. Before he can say something embarrassing like ‘please touch me again’ he feels your hand covering his. It fills him with a heady kind of courage.

“I want…”, Spencer starts, feeling entirely too uncomfortable with having to state his deepest and darkest desires. There’s the old familiar urge to start picking at his nails nagging at him, but you just interlace your fingers with his and start tracing random patterns into the skin there with your thumb. Spencer melts against you and tenses up at the same time because it’s just so- so nice. It feels so nice and Spencer never thought he’d ever get to have things like that with you but you’re here. You’re here, with him, and basically offering Spencer the entire world on a silver platter but it’s still so so unfathomably difficult just saying what he so badly wants.

“You want…?”, you hum slightly, voice soft and so tender as you continue painting patterns on his skin and Spencer would literally die for you. And that’s the entire problem. Spencer doesn’t know if you’d do the same. Well. Maybe not die die for him but. He can’t just sleep with you, and it not meaning anything to you. It would kill him. It would kill him, if after you give him tenderness and pleasure and acceptance in a way he’s never dreamed of receiving, you would go back to normal. Always politely distanced, close, but never close enough and it already twists his chest just thinking of that possibility.

“I just-“, he tries again, but when the words are stuck in his throat, sticky molten sugar that tastes like bile and fear, he pulls out of your grip and buries his face in his hands. He’s so bad at this. He’s the worst. No wonder he’s never had- had something like Morgan has, one night stand after one night stand (not that he particularly wants that, god no, but just-) because Spencer is just so bad at spilling all of the things that plague his gut and keep his thoughts in overdrive at night. No wonder he’s never even had a girlfriend or boyfriend before.

“Hey, hey, Spencer”, he feels your hands cupping his own, still over his face. Not taking them away, but just – there. “It’s alright, penguin, we can always come back to this another time. I’ll wait.”

Spencer’s face crumples and his breath hitches a little because- penguin. That’s the frankly ridiculous nickname you’ve been using for him ever since he apparently once looked like one, with that white scarf and knee-length black coat he wore during one of your cases where a blizzard surprised not only the team, but also the unsub. Spencer, like most of you, wasn’t prepared and thus, had to make do with what the helpful officers provided them with. And well, Spencer drew the penguin stick it seemed.

It’s ridiculous but sweet and it always makes him feel so loved, loved by you, because it’s adorable and theirs and he just loves it irrationally much, okay? And also, penguins are just really fascinating because-

“Did you know that most penguins live monogamously? The Emperor penguin is actually one of the only ones that mate seasonally, they only have one mate per breeding season. But most others have a mate for life, like, like swans and bald eagles.”

Before Spencer even opened his mouth, he was aware of the fact he was going to ramble on about some unimportant stuff. It’s always like this, it always feels like a breath he’s been holding in for too long, like an itch somewhere in his weird brain that only stops when he opens his mouth and infodumps and he cannot stop it. No matter how consciously he is telling himself to cut it out or screaming at himself to shut the fuck up you weirdo, it’s unavoidable. As soon as his brain latches onto a statistic or a fact it is reminded of, it’s an unstoppable force.

Like now. He is kicking himself. Why, oh why can’t he ever be normal? He feels himself flushing bright red from embarrassment and shame and frustration. He can’t believe he is rambling about birds while- while whatever the hell you two are doing right now. While in the middle of a conversation that started out with you confronting him about him seeing your nudes, jesus christ.

Spencer is about to suffocate himself with a pillow when you let out a graceless snort.

It confuses Spencer so much he lowers his hands to look at you and- oh.

Your eyes are shining with something that looks so close to what he would call affection, and it makes him want to bawl his eyes out and at the same time, smile so hard there’ll be laugh lines on his cheeks for the rest of the week.

“Well, that fits perfectly then”, you say, and Spencer doesn’t understand.

“What do you mean?”

You smile just a little wider, a little more teasingly but in a nice way, in a kind way and it leaves Spencer’s chest blooming with warmth.

“If you’re my penguin, I’ll be your penguin.”

Youryouryouryouryour-

Spencer feels entirely braindead. Only the fact that you called him yours registers. Because yes. Yes. Spencer is so yours he’d gladly let you make every decision for him from now on in his life and yes. That’s not exactly a very normal thing to think. Or to want. Spencer doesn’t care. He’s never felt normal about you for a day in his life and he definitely won’t start now.

“You- you mean- like, as, as mates?”

You scrunch your nose in disgust. “If you want to call us that, I think I’ll take back my offer.”

It punches a giggle out of Spencer, sudden and kind of light-headed. He watches your face break into a wide grin.

“But you- you’d like that?” You’d like me?

You pull a face, sniffing in a nonchalant way, direct your face to your nails in fake disinterest.

“Sure. Whatever.”

And Spencer can’t help himself. He sobs out a laugh- laughs out a sob or, whatever that weird noise he makes is, because you’re so ridiculous and he loves you more than anything in the world.

You roll your eyes, fondly, shake your head slightly.

“Of course, Spencer. I’d like that very much because I like you a very unnormal amount. Literally. On my knees, crying, screaming etcetera”, you say just like that, smiling just like that.

Spencer feels like he’s dreaming. He must be. There’s no other explanation for it. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you could like him. You. You’re so, so lovely and amazing and you deserve everything good in this world and Spencer is just. Spencer.

“You- you like me? Me?”, Spencer can’t hide the incredulous tone that seeps into his questions because you like him?

There’s no traces of humour in your eyes anymore. Your eyes look painfully honest, face suddenly serious, and it steals Spencer’s breath away.

You lean closer to him again, grabbing his hands with yours. Your gaze bores itself into his, intense and steady and he can’t look away. “Spencer. I know it’s- I know life has been hard on you for way too long. And that leaves its marks on you. That’s fine. It’s human. But. You do not deserve any less love because of that, do you understand me? Of course I like you, what isn’t there to like? You’re kind and funny and sweet and just so- Spencer. You’re so lovable and it kills me to know that you don’t see how you are so worthy of being loved.”

Oh.

You can’t just- can’t just say things like that and expect him to not cry a little. Can’t expect him to act completely nonchalant and cool about all of this when you say things like that to him. Are you trying to kill him? Because it sure does feel like that.

Spencer is so completely at a loss. He doesn’t know what to say to that- not to mention what to do. How do you always do this? How can you see straight to the hidden, bruised core of him, littered with all these ugly and bad things and. Just. Figure out what to say to strike him exactly there.

It should scare him, being known so deeply. It should, but it doesn’t because it’s you. You are warmth and acceptance like his favourite place in front of a fireplace, book in hand and rain gently knocking against windows. You are quiet mornings at work, you are soft rays of sunlight in his hair, you are gentle hands helping you up when you fall and bruise your knees. You are –

A touch to his cheek startles him. He opens his eyes – when did he close them? – to your fingers brushing some stray tears away, so softly as if he’s something precious, something to be held delicately. That thought sends new tears spilling down his cheek. He can’t believe this is affecting him so much, so completely he simultaneously feels like he is going to shatter and be stitched back together again.

He never knew he needed this so much.

“Sorry for making you cry, penguin. I didn’t think this discussion about my lack of nude etiquette would get this emotionally damaging”, you say, voice hushed in the big silence of the room, a small smile on your lips and eyes so kind.

Spencer snorts, despite himself. This has really been a very bizarre evening. He feels almost drunk on the weirdness of it all, on the rollercoaster that his emotions have ridden all evening. That’s probably why he does what he does next.

“Neither did I, especially after you interrupted me while I wa-“

Spencer shuts his mouth so fast he clicks his teeth together, eyes wide and suddenly horrified. He- what-

Why?

Why can’t Spencer ever keep his big mouth shut? Is he completely and utterly insane?

There’re alarm bells going off somewhere in Spencer’s head and a concerning warmth settling deep in his stomach when your grin takes on a slightly devilish edge, one he knows all too well and. And. Oh. He’s in trouble. So much trouble. Why did he have to say that?

“After I interrupted you while?”, you prompt him, eyes electric and hot and oh god-

Spencer is so dumb. An idiot. Of the highest order. High IQ, where?

“Nothing”, he says, voice high-pitched and rushed and he curses himself and his ability to act everything else but nonchalant. He’d be the worst actor of all time.

“Spencer.”

The tone of your voice rearranges something in his neurons. He can feel himself sit up just that little bit straighter, can feel his mind buzz at the edges. He’s never felt like this before.

He loves it.

“Hmm?”, is all he gets out. Trouble, so much trouble.

Suddenly you’re standing up, away from him and Spencer wants to whine because you should stay there next to him, forever fixed to his side. He doesn’t have to despair long, because you take one of your knees and gently nudge his legs apart with it and okay. Okay. That definitely didn’t just send Spencer’s mind reeling. That wasn’t just totally the hottest thing that ever happened to him.

You slot yourself between his legs as if you own that space and. In his humble opinion, you do. You so do. Spencer is willing to give you a map of his entire body and a marker and tell you to please demarcate every part of him you want. He’d give it to you, no questions asked.

He is looking up at you, at your burning eyes that still hold something so soft in them that makes the lump in his throat bigger again. And by god, Spencer just needs to hear you say it again-

“You like me?”

You move closer to him, lifting one hand and placing it underneath his chin. Your thumb traces along his jaw and Spencer feels like he is going to burst into a million embarrassed pieces.

“Yes”, you say simply, but the way you say it. Spencer can’t help but shiver and exhale shakily. He feels so warm, everywhere. His skin burns where your fingers are touching him. He never wants this to stop.

“You- You want me?”

Your hand grips his face a little stronger, your other fingers splaying over and down his throat and there’s a high noise coming from somewhere and there’s goosebumps on his body everywhere and oh, wait- it’s him. The noise. Well, how embarrassing but. He doesn’t care. Nope. Not at all.

…Okay maybe a little. His face feels warm, suddenly, warmer than the rest of him and yes. He’s blushing, okay?

“Spencer”, the way you say his name it- god, “I want you. I said it before, but. I will give you anything. Tell me what you want, Spencer, and you will get it from me.”

Your eyes are so dark and your voice so low and Spencer actually whines and. He’s hard again, so hard, because he didn’t come before and now, he’s even more pent-up and his thoughts are a mess, but you haven’t even touched him more than this and he’s already so worked up from you just saying these things to him-

“I want you”, Spencer pants, currently finding no other English words in the dictionary of his mind. And well. Emily was right about him. IQ slashed to zero when pretty person do thing.

He watches you take a deep breath, as if to steady yourself, as if this whole thing is affecting you as much as it affects him but that’s- ridiculous. Impossible. Because. Have you seen yourself?

“I know that, Spencer. But what do you want from me? Do you want me to kiss you?”, you ask, face suddenly so close to his Spencer feels your breath fan over his skin, and he whimpers because yes he wants that wants that- “Do you want me to touch you more?”, your other hand grabs his side, gentle but just a little bit roughly and Spencer is suddenly vividly reminded of the fact how strong you are and he feels kind of lightheaded-

“Do you want me to fuck you, Spencer?”

Spencer is going to pass out. And die. And moan and say, “Please yes yes yes”. Maybe not in that particular order.

“Okay, angel, anything you want”, you say, smiling softly at him as if he’s the best thing in the world and angel. Angel. Angel.

Before he’s even started to process you calling him angel, he sees a glint in your eyes, that edge in your smile again and before he knows what’s happening, you’re kissing him.

You’re kissing him and it’s- everything.

Your mouth is soft against his, and Spencer’s insides twist and flutter and his brain is kind of lagging behind, but he wants to be closerclosercloser-

It’s so good Spencer completely blanks on everything. There’s nothing in his mind except the feel of your lips moving against his. There’s no insecurity, no embarrassment tainting this moment even though this is literally like, only the sixth kiss or so of Spencer’s life and he has no idea what he is doing. But it’s so good.

A noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper escapes him when you lick into his mouth and Spencer’s soul almost leaves his body. He feels you shudder where you are pressed together, chest to chest.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe against his lips, in between wet, hot, kisses. You rub your nose against his, eyes closed.

“Hmm?”, he hums, his voice somewhere in Canada or wherever. His mouth is too busy smiling so wide it hurts, anyways. No time for articulating anything.

“You’re amazing, Spencer, amazing.”

And he wants to shake his head, no, because the only one amazing here is you. But it’s impossible to disagree with you when your mouth has returned to his in a way that is probably ruining him for anyone else. (He’s okay with that.)

You peck him on the lips once, twice more, before you press your lips against his jaw, exactly where you had your fingers before. Your hands are basically the only thing holding Spencer up in a sitting position, because he feels like molten chocolate in your hands. Muscles apparently forgetting to do their job and well. Who can blame them? Spencer has stopped thinking in proper sentences the moment you had walked into his life, so. Only a matter of time until you broke the rest of him as well.

You kiss his neck and Spencer gasps. It’s really been a hot minute - three years, one hundred, twenty-one days and twenty hours to be exact – the last time he made out with someone. Everything feels heightened on his heated skin, especially you opening your mouth against him and licking him oh god-

It almost feels like a reward when you gently bite at his skin next. Spencer almost screams.

“So good, so so good for me”, he hears you whisper into the skin of his neck and this time, Spencer does make a noise. Because yes. He wants that. Be good for you. That’s the only thing in his fuzzy mind that feels clear, that feels graspable.

He can see your pupils dilate. Can see the wicked lilt to your lips. “You like being good for me, don’t you, angel?”

ANGEL. Spencer is nodding his head before he knows he does so. “Yes, yes.”

“Fuck”, he hears you breathe against him and it’s strange, seeing the effect he has on you. Did really he do that? “I can’t believe how incredible you are, sweetheart.”

And you need to stop. If you keep calling Spencer these things- he’s pretty sure he won’t survive this. The team would need to find another genius to solve cases with. His cactus Greg would dry out and wilt and die. You and Penelope would need to find another victim to send confusing memes to.

“Did you like my pictures, Spencer?”, you then ask and that’s so not fair. You can’t just ask him that while he’s so utterly in your hands that he’s sure he’d tell you about every little fantasy he’s had about you ever if you asked.

Because Spencer wants to be good, feels that need so deeply in his bones, he nods frantically. “Yes, I- I liked them.”

At the same time the words leave his mouth, something feels wrong. There’s an ugly thing twisting in his stomach, so unpleasant it momentarily occludes the high-octane bliss-fuzz fogging up his mind.

You notice the shift in mood almost immediately. “What’s wrong, angel?”

And well. It’s just- that guilt. Of not saying anything to you about Spencer seeing your nudes, of just ogling you like that without your permission. That wasn’t very good of him. Actually, the opposite. He’s been bad and he hates that. Hates that so severely that there’s suddenly tears on his cheeks and oh no. That’s mortifying. Who cries before sex? Jesus Christ he’s such a virgin it is genuinely embarrassing.

“I’m- I’m sorry”, he stutters, a little bit hysterical, creating distance between you, arms slung around himself, “I should’ve, should’ve said something, I’m so so sorry, I’m the worst friend and now I’m- I’m crying, oh god, I’m so sorry-“

“Hey, hey hey whoa. Spencer, darling. Penguin. Look at me, please?”

But he shakes his head. He doesn’t deserve to look at you again. What was he even thinking? He was- so creepy and now- now-

Two warm hands grab his face and then Spencer is looking into your eyes again. He squeezes his own shut, but all that it does is send more tears spilling over his cheeks and he’s so fucking stupid-

“Baby, please.”

Spencer sobs.

Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. That’s the best thing he has ever heard but he doesn’t deserve these things.

“Of course you deserve it, silly goose”, you say and oh. He’s said that out loud.

Your thumbs brush over his cheeks and Spencer can’t not lean into your touch, despite everything. Because that’s just the way it always is. He’s drawn to your warmth and tenderness like a moon revolves around its planet.

“I thought we’d established that it was an accident? And if it was someone’s fault, then mine, because no password, remember?”

Spencer opens his eyes. The deep affection swimming in yours makes him sob again. He’s a mess. A crying, horny mess and Spencer definitely fucked this up. Why does Spencer always ruin the few good things in his life?

“Spencer, Spencer. Hey. It’s okay, I promise you. We wouldn’t be doing this, if it wasn’t, okay?”, you kiss his nose. “Do you want to lay down, maybe?”

He nods, not really thinking clearly. He moves up the bed, under the covers and curls up on his side. He waits for you to get up from the bed, for you to walk over to the door and leave. To say that this was a mistake, he was a mistake. To say that you take back everything you said to him in the last half hour.

He’s not just a little surprised to feel your weight dip the mattress, to feel even more sudden warmth engulf him when you spoon him from behind. You start tracing swirly patterns over the skin of his arm and he feels goosebumps spread all over his body.

Some minutes tick by, you still holding him, when his tears have finally dried up. He doesn’t remember crying so much in one day. Spencer feels miserable.

“Do you still like me?”, he asks, and yes, it’s pathetic and stupid but. He doesn’t care if you never have sex or if you’re not going to be more than his friend now. Because the thought of you not being in his life in any capacity anymore- just no.

He can feel you freeze and take in a sharp breath. “Wha- Spencer. Of course, I still like you. I don’t care what we do, I just want to be with you. In any way you’ll have me.”

You sound so understanding and sincere and actually confused about his fear as if you’d never even think of not liking him anymore and and and-

And something in him just- snaps. He wants you, needs you so much he’s going to die if he doesn’t-

He shuffles and turns in your arms until he’s face to face with you. You look at him, eyebrow raised in question but so beautiful and lovely and you still like him-

“I want you so bad”, he says and then he presses his lips against yours again.

You respond immediately, low moan escaping you and Spencer is greedy, he wants to hear more, feel more, feel everything with you.

He’s kissing you as if he’s going to die if he ever stopped, which, yes, he absolutely would, and you kiss him back as if you can’t live without him. It makes everything become hazy again, like before, and every bad feeling suddenly feels eons away. Like he’s underwater, floaty and relaxed. Safe, he feels safe in the way you kiss him and hold him. Like you always do.

You move your kisses to his neck, sucking and biting and Spencer is moaning and moaning and can’t stop and then suddenly, you’re gone, what –

“Spencer, Spencer, wait”, you pant, out of breath and flushed and he wants to cry again, “Sorry, sorry I just-“

You frame his face in your hands, a little bit roughly. “I’m so sorry for making this so hard, you’re being so good for me, but Spencer. Have you done this before?”

Somewhere in the fog that is his minds, Spencer finds his voice. It’s high and airy but he doesn’t care. “No, no, I haven’t.”

He watches you take a deep breath, feels your fingers digging into his skin a little bit more.

“Tell me. Do you want this, Spencer?”, your voice is shaking as if you need to keep yourself in check and Spencer can’t believe he’s getting to see you like this.

“Yes”, he says because he can’t ever want anything else, and, “Please make me feel good.”

You inhale sharply, your grip on his face bordering on painful. “Spencer, you’re incredible, amazing, the best- I’ll make you feel good, okay? I’ll make you feel so good because you deserve it.”

“Yes”, Spencer is not ashamed of how whiny he sounds. No. He’s owning it now. This is his thing now, okay? He’ll gladly be your pathetic wet cat, or whatever the term was that you sometimes use to describe him with. Whatever it even means.

“Good”, you grin, and then you push on his shoulder hard and he’s on his back. And you. Sitting on top of him, thighs on either side of him. Straddling him exactly where he wants you most and he exhales a needy ‘ah’. His hypothesis of liking being manhandled is… yet to be disproven. He’s discovering so many things about himself today.

Pleasure radiates in waves from where you’re passively giving pressure to his hard cock and yeah okay. This is good. Amazing. He’s never felt better. But-

“Please.”

“Please what, angel?”

“More?”

“More what?”

Your fingers trailing along his throat and jaw, down his chest and teasing ghost-like over his nipples are not really helpful in finding the right words to what he wants. You take pity on him.

“More touch?”

Spencer nods his head, so fast he almost gets dizzy because he’s at that point again where everything feels liquid, hazy, a little bit unreal. So, speaking is already quite the task.

You smile at him as if he just solved the most difficult equation. “Doing so good, Spencer. Incredible.”

He moans. Okay. Another hypothesis to add to his ever-growing list of scientific discoveries today.

“Where do you want touch, Spencer? Here?”, there’s hands in his hair. He shakes his head.

“Hmm… Here?”, fingers drawing circles on his chest and yes, that feels nice, so nice but he wants-

“Here?”, you ground your hips down and jesus-

“Yes!”, Spencer almost chokes on the sound. Pleasure shoots up his spine and he whimpers. “Please.”

You exhale shakily, looking flush. “Okay. Because you ask so nicely.” There’re two little taps on his lower stomach through his shirt. “Do you want to take this off first? Or no?”

The way you give him the chance to say no- the way you respect his autonomy so deeply-

It’s basic human decency, yes, but it’s also the hottest thing and Spencer feels so valued and understood and safe that he’s not even hesitating when he mutters a quiet yes.

You help him sit up because he’s currently not really heir over his body like he usually is. Help his head out of the shirt and thread his arms out. And then, he’s half naked in front of you and suddenly, the doubt and insecurity that’ve been so quiet so far are back with a vengeance.

The urge to cover himself is so big it’s impossible to stop his arms from wrapping around himself.

Spencer knows he’s not ugly. He’s not that bad looking actually. Can’t be too bad if Morgan keeps insisting on calling him pretty boy, even though Spencer sometimes still has the sneaking suspicion that he’s teasing him. But his friend wouldn’t be so cruel.

But other people like to be. Pipe-cleaner, leek, straw, big-eyes. He’s heard it all before. He has matured enough and grown into himself so that these things don’t bother him like they used to. But still. Still. These things are arduous to scrub from under his skin.

Your gaze on him though- he’s never felt so, cleaned from all of these mean words before. You look- you look reverent while mapping his skin and maybe that’s the reason why he lowers his arms again.

“Spencer. You’re a dream”, you say, almost in trance. Almost as if you’re hypnotized by him, and he’s flushing. But. Being watched so intently, being admired like that. He feels his dick give an indigent twitch against your clothed core. Another thing for the list.

“So impatient”, you tut and Spencer flushes more. He thinks he’s waited long enough for this. But he doesn’t say that. If you stopped now- he would definitely combust spontaneously.

You lean down, over him. Hands trailing along his sides like you did earlier, but without any clothes between your skin and his. It’s almost too much. And not enough. He feels electrified, where you touch him. His heart is hammering against his ribs so hard you must be able to feel it. His stomach is in knots, fluttery. He’s never felt more alive.

You connect your lips to his throat, placing kiss after kiss along the arched length of it. Follow the same path with your tongue and Spencer whines, curves up against you a little. Everything feels so good Spencer is floating in it.

You shift your attention to his collarbones next, kissing but then gently biting and Spencer feels the indents of your teeth all the way through to his back and he hopes, wants, you to sink them into him so deep they’ll leave marks. So that he carries the evidence of this with him for the rest of this case, so that there’s absolutely no more doubt to who he belongs to. That thought alone makes him whimper, makes him feel that tiny little bit more lost in you.

You start kissing along his chest, down his stomach. Open mouthed, wet kisses and Spencer shivers when the places you put them feel cold after because of your spit. The lower you get, the noisier he becomes and at one point, Spencer would’ve been embarrassed. Well, he kind of is, but he’s also so turned on that the embarrassment doesn’t feel as stifling like usual. Rather, in a weird way, it makes everything hotter, and he does not own enough brain capacity right now to decipher that. But he does add it to the list.

When your face is dangerously close to the waistband of his pyjama, Spencer tenses, holds his breath. Being shirtless is one thing, but… well.

“It’s okay, Spencer. We only do as much as you feel comfortable with”, you murmur, giving a small peck to the left of his belly button. You calmingly follow his sides with your hands, smiling at him with so much affection in your eyes that Spencer feels speechless, breathless, until the tension releases his muscles again and he melts into the sheets.

“’m just…”, he tries, he really tries so hard to tell you that he wants this more than anything he’s ever wanted but that he just feels… insecure.

You kiss his stomach again. “How about we only take off the pyjama? For now? If you want to take off your underwear too later, we can still do that.”

That… that’s actually a good idea. So, he nods.

“Words, angel.”

“Yes, yes. That’s- good.”

You look so proud of him. “You’re so good, Spencer. Perfect.”

He moans embarrassingly loud. He really should be more concerned about this. About how you are basically pulling him apart, thread by thread and he just lets you, willingly. How you know which threads to pull to reduce him to a sweaty mess in what felt like 0.2 seconds.

There’s a finger dipping beneath the waistband, moving back and forth along the newly exposed skin. Your eyes watch him intently, almost predator-like. A question is in there somewhere as well and Spencer nods again.

You help him lift his hips, help him pull down the pants. Spencer is kind of busy kicking his legs a little to shake them off completely but when he looks back and down himself to where you are hyper-focused on the outline of his cock through the thin fabric he blushes.

Even more when he notices the big, dark blue splotch in front of his underwear. That’s definitely never happened before. How embarrassing.

When you look up at him again, you’re also flushed. Eyes dark, wide, voice kind of unsteady. “Spencer, Spencer, can I?”

“Please”, and then you palm him with your hand, and it feels so good it takes all of his concentration to not come on the spot. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive this until you arrive to the main thing.

It’s not the first time someone has touched him like that, but it is the first time you are doing it, and it already feels better than anything he’s ever felt before. You’re either a wizard or Spencer is just biased because he thinks everything you do is ten times better than the same thing done by someone else.

Probably the first reason.

He has his head angled back, one of his arms thrown over his eyes. If he looked at you now, he’s pretty sure, he’d come. Visual stimulation on top of physical would probably be the end of him. It’s already too much, just feeling your hand move up and down his dick in various pressures. Almost as if you are testing what he likes best, and Spencer is definitely here for it. Definitely. He’s happy to just let you experiment with him until you know all the different ways to drive him mad with pleasure with just a few moves.

Which, you apparently already figured out, judging by the way Spencer can’t form a single coherent thought anymore. It’s already, so good, so freaking good holy shit, and you’re still not touching him. Still a layer of fabric between your hand and him and he kind of- just-

“Take it off?”

You still your hand, looking up at him. You look kind of crazed, almost a little pained. It takes two deep breaths for you to process what he just asked, eyes a little unfocused before they fix Spencer to the bed with an intensity that makes him feel unfocused. “You sure, angel?”

Spencer literally can’t do anything but nod. You stay in your position for some moments longer, before you sigh out a long breath, mumbling something that suspiciously resembles you’re gonna be the death of me. Spencer misses your warmth on top of him the second you hoist yourself up. It’s kind of crazy and destitute of him. You are literally right there but he’s waited for this for so long it feels like he’s suffocating without your weight pressing him down. Which is ironic and also, insane.

Your fingers are gentle, when they move under the stretchy fabric of his underwear. Even gentler when they pull down and down and down until Spencer is entirely naked in front of you.

Oh, he feels so exposed. While he has been the recipient of a mediocre hand job before, it’s been in his trousers. This is kind of the first time someone sees him naked like that, because school locker rooms and his mother don’t count.

He doesn’t dare look at you. If there’s anything akin to disappointment, not to mention disgust on your face- Spencer probably would have to jump out the window, stat. His gaze is frozen on his cock, steadily leaking precum on his stomach (which, embarrassing). He’s abashedly trying to insert himself into your point of view, tries to imagine what you think about seeing him like this. What you might think about his dick, if it’s too short or too thin or if it looks weird, if he should’ve shaved. If his legs look strange and too gangly now, or if his stomach connects to his pubic area wrong or-

“Holy shit”, you say, and Spencer is too curious for his own damn good sometimes, because he can’t force his gaze to stay away from you.

You look at him- like before. Reverent but more, so much more. He almost feels like a deity, the way you look at him. Someone to be awed by, someone that should be worshipped. Spencer feels his already in overdrive heartbeat quicken even more, blood flushing his cheeks so much it leaks down his throat, to his chest.

Spencer would literally kill to have you look at him like this for the rest of his life.

“Holy shit, Spencer”, you repeat, eyes now meeting his, “You’re like- a literal fucking dream. I cannot believe- you’re so beautiful, how are you so beautiful everywhere?”

Spencer whimpers and he needs you to touch him kiss him fuck him anything please now or he will absolutely die from heart palpitations.

Some of his despairing thoughts must’ve come through to you, because the next thing you do is moan, which is the best thing he’s ever heard. Then, you take off your sweater. Second to go is your cropped tank top and you aren’t wearing a bra and good heavens.

Pictures could never compare. Not even Botticelli could’ve adequately committed you to canvas.

Spencer must’ve taken some brain damage from seeing you half naked. He doesn’t remember you taking off the remainder of your clothes, nor does he remember you straddling him again. But, fuck.

Spencer kind of doesn’t use the f-word that often but-

fuckfuckfuckufuckfkcufuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckcufkc-

You’re warm against him, and wet, so freaking wet, and it feels so mind-blowingly good- it’s a miracle he’s still holding on. But-

“Won’t last long”, he gets out, breathy and whiny and just so goddamn fuzzy from pleasure. The world could literally perish right now, and he wouldn’t care. He can’t care, because this is the best thing that ever happened to him and he won’t ever care about anything else ever again other than feeling you, you you you you, against him.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe, gasp, and fuck, the way you keep using his name. “Are you okay? Do you still want this?”

It’s ridiculous you even ask. But the warmth in his chest, the feeling of comfort and safety and ease – because everything with you is so easy, so natural - he feels with the way you look after him-

He feels your thumbs caressing his wet cheeks. You put small, sweet kisses all over his face. Take the time to brush away some of his sweat-sticky hair from his forehead. Place kisses there too. You end with a drawn out, gentle kiss to his lips.

“What do you say, sweetheart?”

There’s really only one way for him to answer that. He trusts you. Plain and simple. There’s no one else he could ever do this with.

“Yes, I want. Please.”

You kiss him again. “So good Spencer, you’re so fucking good to me. I can’t believe you are trusting me with this. You are incredible, angel.”

Spencer doesn’t know how it’s anatomically possible, but he blushes even harder. Also, feels his cock twitch against you because he apparently likes to be called good almost as much as he likes being good. For you. Only you. Jesus Christ.

“Do you have a condom?”, you ask and ah. Well.

“Suitcase”, and wow. First word with more than one syllable since you straddled him the first time. He’s being so brave right now. He deserves a medal. Proof of Being Able to Speak Polysyllabic Words While Getting Fucked (Almost).

There’s humour glistening in your eyes, when you hide a fake gasp behind your hand and say, “Oh my god, Spencer you dog. Can’t believe you planned this entire thing.”

Spencer almost chokes on his own spit. “N-no! I just- uh, like being prepared.”

You grind down a snort, drive your teeth into your lower lip. “In case you accidentally saw your coworker’s nudes and them being down to fuck you about it?"

Oh my god, you’re the most ridiculous person he’s ever met. He can’t stop himself from grinning because seeing you trying to keep your laughter at bay-

“Yes. That.”

“But what if- what if it was Rossi instead of you seeing them? How would’ve your plan worked out then, huh?”, you wheeze, shaking from literal suppressed laughter and Spencer makes a sound like a dying horse.

“Rossi? Rossi?”

“Oh my god, imagine it would’ve been Hotch. He would’ve probably fired me so hard and then called me a week later to disappointed-dad-talk me to come back but to please, refrain from bringing personal files to work in the future.”

Spencer laughs. He’s still rock-hard underneath you, but he’s laughing because that’s what you always do. Being so absurd and silly that he’s shocked to laughter.

He adores you with every fibre of his being.

“What the fuck?”, you ask, incredulous but laughing yourself, “Is my misery amusing to you?”

And Spencer feels like being a little bit of a brat. “Very.”

You flick his nose. Grumble something like I’ll show you misery and then you move your hips against his and Spencer sees stars. Let’s out an embarrassingly high whine.

Ah well. It was still worth it.

“Don’t move”, you order, when you climb down from him to retrieve a condom. Spencer watches you, lets himself look at you. All the times he’s wondered how it would be, how it would feel like, being in this kind of situation with you. He’s never in a million years thought it would feel so familiar. Like you’ve done this before, so many times that it’s just become something normal between you two. He’s actually relaxed. So turned on it feels like he’s going to burst any second, but he’s calm. He feels comfortable, so much so that it doesn’t even matter that it’s the first time he’s doing this and he’s so clueless about all of this.

But he knows, if it’s with you, he never ever has to worry about anything.

“Do you have lube as well?”, you ask, rifling through his suitcase and distracting him from his sappy thoughts.

“Hmm. No, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, angel”, you say while returning to Spencer, and the nickname kind of switches something off again in his brain. Perfect. He’s never going to be able to be normal again about that word.

“We’ll have to get some, for next time. Always feels better with it.”

Spencer hasn’t really registered more than next time next time next time-

He’s pulled out of his daze of knowing your intentions of this not only being a one-off thing, when you straddle him again, a bit lower on his legs. Spencer moans, loud and high, when you grab him by the base and god, fuck, his skin is tingling with anticipation.

With your other hand, you grab the condom and then use your teeth to open the packet, and his cock jumps in your hand. How are you so hot. How does everything you do turn him on so much, what.

He watches you take out the plastic ring as if he’s watching from above, out of his body. He watches as you position the condom over his tip and then pull it down, down and Spencer’s brain must be lagging because he feels everything with at least a two second delay and shit, god, son of a-

“You ready, baby?”

He makes a noise between a sob and a whine. He’s losing his mind. “Please please please-“

“Fuck, Spencer”, you whine, lift yourself up a bit with your legs and then you are sinking down on him, inch by agonizing inch.

It’s so good, it’s so good, you are so warm, so hot, and Spencer can’t stop making noises until your hips are flush to his and he’s inside you.

You let out a loud, drawn-out moan above him. “Fuck, fuck, Spencer. You feel so fucking good, holy shit.”

He feels like he’s one move away from coming. God, oh god, it feels so incredible.

“Can I move? Spencer, please?”, your voice is wrecked, you’re flushed down to your navel, and you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.

“Please please please please”, it’s the only word he remembers how to pronounce.

“Fuck”, you almost sob, lifting yourself almost completely off him. You lower yourself back down again, one swift move, and you both moan.

You pick up the pace a little, fucking him with still languid but purposeful thrusts. Every time his cock sinks back into you, Spencer feels bits and pieces of his sanity crumbling away. He can’t think, can’t speak, his mind so fogged up and fuzzy he’s having troubles remembering who he is. He’s so completely at your mercy he’d let you do anything to him.

That turns him on a worryingly huge amount. List, something about a list somewhere.

“Oh, god, look at you. Spencer, baby, angel. You feel so good inside of me, so good.”

He keens, grabs at your strong thighs bracketing his slim hips. Arches up into you, closerclosercloser-

“You like being good for me, right angel?”, you ask, hips slowing down to a gentle grinding that absolutely drives Spencer insane and he’s too far gone to even nod, “It suits you. Being so wrecked for me, moaning and shaking. God, fuck, you’re divine, Spencer, fuck.”

The pressure behind his cock, low in his stomach, that’s been building all evening, all week, holy shit, it’s too much. Spencer feels delirious, feels your hotness around him, feels your hands pressing his chest down into the bed. He’s going to die it feels so good.

“You going to come for me, Spencer? You gonna be good for me and come inside of me?”

Please please please please- it’s all he can think, all he can feel, because because-

You give a particularly hard thrust and-

Spencer’s coming, moaning and moaning, shaking everywhere. He’s coming and it feels so good, so fucking good. He’s never come so hard in his life before.

He might have blacked out a little. The next time he’s aware of something, it’s you cleaning him with a wet washcloth. Slow, and gentle and Jesus.

“What?”, is the first thing he manages to say, and you snicker beside him. You caress his face, hand running through his hair, down his chest. Peck his lips. You’re both still naked.

“Feeling good?”, you ask and what kind of question even is that. You just fucked the soul from his body, and you ask him-

“I almost died”, he says, tagging your name at the end with an incredulous tint to it.

You snort, setting the washcloth on the nightstand behind you. You lie down close to him, cuddling into his side. “That was the plan.”

“Killing me with sex?”

“Yep. That’s for ogling my nudes without my permission, you creep.”

He says your name again, exasperated but so fucking fond it’s a miracle you’ve never noticed his pining before. You shrug, pull a ‘what can you do face’. Spencer rolls his eyes and then, unceremoniously, flops on top of you.

“Uffff”, you press out. “You’re smothering me, penguin.”

Spencer shrugs and copies the expression you just did. You bark out a laugh.

“Ha! Didn’t know post-sex Spencer is such a cheeky little shit. I’ve created a monster.”

He can’t entirely control his face, some parts of a smile slipping into his features. He does manage to poke out his tongue at you though, before he buries his face in your neck.

Some minutes tick by, you both enjoying the other’s presence and warmth and idleness, before something in his brain-

“Wait-“, Spencer splutters, pushing himself away from you so that he can look at you. “Did you- did you even finish?”

He’s kind of horrified. He was so focused on his pleasure- he- how did he forget? He doesn’t remember you coming and oh no, he’s such an asshole, who doesn’t make sure the other person has come as well and-

“Spencer, Spencer”, you shush him, fingers trailing along his back, and he shivers, eyes rolling back.

“I made myself come right after, don’t worry. You were kind of busy in your post-orgasm, pussy-drunk coma.”

Spencer flushes. “But I wanted to…”

You laugh softly. “You can do whatever to me, next time, sweets. This was about you. We’ll go on a date as soon as we’re back home. Fucking Florida is driving me nuts.”

Oh, he suddenly feels shy. A date? You want to go on a date with him?

“Really?”, he asks, and he hates how insecure he sounds.

You send him an unbelieving look. “Uh, what about the last hour makes you think otherwise? Seriously, Spencer, we need to work on your confidence.”

“Okay”, he mutters, a little bit pout-y and you scoff, pulling him down on top of your chest again.

There, with your hands painting patterns on his back and him completely lost in your warmth and familiarity, Spencer thinks that maybe, Florida isn’t that bad.

Bonus

“So, then. Made any scientific discoveries last night, pretty boy?”

Spencer chokes on his coffee.

“What?”

“Nothing”, his ‘friend’ says, smirking and leaning against his table, “You just seem to have figured out that little problem that’s been keeping that pretty head of yours all messed up.”

Spencer feels himself flush. Stupid body and stupid involuntary, physiological reactions. Morgan picks up on it, of course.

“Ohhhhh, want to share with the class what those discoveries were?”

Briefly, so very briefly, Spencer thinks of his self-compiled list but- no no no no.

“Shut up, Morgan.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @wasitforrevenge @wannabewolf @tommorecommendedfics @winterhi09 @theoraekenslover @chaewondrful @okeyhoezayy @busy-buzzing @laurakirsten0502 @redros3y @trashxqueen @kitty-kei @so-long-daisymay @hayleythecannibal @jsnsnsnszjzj @reeidsluv @kayane28 @moonysreid @desperately-seeking-serotonin @munsonslunchbox @tul1p-mimi @anuttellaa @pinkgomie @elizabethmidnight2017 @evrmorets @cyanidebitsg @bangchansdog @pinterestwhore145 @some-one-yiu-dont-kno @emma-e-a

i hope these work lmao, also let me know if you wanna be on my eternal tag list for any future Spencer fic ;)

#tinywrites #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader fanfic #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #tinywrites:accidents #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #criminal minds x reader

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