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amomentsescape · 2 months ago

Note

Reader runs behind slasher because someone else is harassing/chasing/stalking them. They don't even know they hid behind a killer for help and apologized to the killer for their awkward action of hiding behind them.

Imagine if reader is so polite that they do a apologetic bending bow.

Slashers Being the Protector (Rather than the Killer)

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo

Warnings: Being chased/stalked, maybe a couple cuss words?

A/N: Thank you for the request! I didn't do the bow for every Slasher since I felt like it would get repetitive after a while. But I hope you enjoy either way!

Obviously, walking home alone is never your first choice, but it's not like you had an option.

Your job kept you late. And as much as you wished you could have just set some damn boundaries for yourself, you couldn't say no. You were probably the only one that actually cared about your job.

You kept a fast pace, holding your head down as to not make eye contact with anyone you passed by.

And this worked for a while. You were at a point in your journey home where you found yourself completely alone. However, there was still a part of you that felt uneasy. They always say that humans are able to tell when someone is watching them, and you were clearly no exception to this.

You finally took a deep breath and paused, mustering up the courage to look at your surroundings.

The woods were beside you, the darkness only allowing you to see a few trees at a time, but thankfully, no one seemed to be there.

Ahead of you was just more concrete and not a single street lamp in view.

And behind you... was someone.

You hadn't expected to see anyone there, but of course your luck would prove otherwise.

Your eyes widened and your breath got caught in your throat. Why were they just standing there?

Without taking your eyes off of them, you took one step backwards.

They took one forwards.

You took another step.

They did too.

It was in that moment that you knew you had to think quickly.

Should you just turn around and keep running straight ahead? No, that would prove useless. They would surely outrun you and grab ahold of you in no time.

Or should you turn and run to the woods, hiding behind trees for long enough that they give up?

You didn't like this idea much more than the first, but you figured this was probably the only option that got you out of this unharmed.

With your eyes watering and jaw clenching, you sprinted towards the woods.

You could hear their footsteps behind you, branches and leaves snapping in the distance.

They were catching up.

A sob slipped from your lips as you could feel your legs burn.

Keep pushing. Keep going.

And you did, right towards a figure in the distance.

Freddy Krueger

He could hear your sporadic heartbeat from a mile away

He was already smiling, hoping that you were about to be another easy victim

But something about your fright felt off

Someone else was after you

The moment you came into view, his smile softened a bit

You looked so desperate and scared

In any other context, he would have loved to see it, but it wasn't him making you feel this way

Plus, you weren't repulsive to him like everyone else

He could see the split second of hesitation on your face when you saw his gnarled skin and sharp gloves

But clearly that other person had spooked you more

You were already apologizing, begging for some sort of help

You weren't even six feet from Freddy when he raised his arm and a sudden thud could be heard behind you

The person who was once following you no longer had a head

You turned back to the burnt man, suddenly feeling worried that you would be next, but instead, he grabbed the side of your face

"I can't blame the guy. I would have wanted to snatch you up too," he cackled

Michael Myers

Michael raised a single brow under his mask

Clearly, you were terrified of the person chasing after you, but was seeing another large man holding a bloody knife of no concern to you?

You ran up to him, coming to an immediate stop when you saw the blade glinting back at you

"I-I need help. Please," you could barely choke out

He could tell you were trying to figure out who to be more afraid of

It's not like Michael really cared that you were being chased, but this was his territory, no one else is allowed to do his job for him

He stepped in front of you, watching as the other person slowly came to a halt

He grabbed your arm and began to drag you towards the figure

You started to cry at this, thinking he was about to give you up

Instead, his knife plunged deeply into the other person's neck, their body collapsing to the ground

You had blood splattered on you, and you could still feel the fear in your chest

You gave him a soft bow, wordlessly thanking him before stumbling back out

It was only when you heard a branch snap behind you that you turned around

He was still behind you

As you kept walking, he kept following

You really thought he'd just help you without something in return?

Jason Voorhees

He thought he killed everyone already, so how did he miss you?

How did he miss someone so cute too?

Oh, you're running towards him instead of away

This is odd

If he had been any other average sized person, you would have tackled him to the ground with how hard you collided with him

"I-I need help. Please!" you cried out, rushing behind him

He quickly took notice of the person chasing after you, them stopping in their tracks at the sight of Jason

Now, who's being hunted?

The stalker began to run the other way, not failing to notice the freshly bloodied machete like you did

However, with Jason's stride, it didn't take long for him to catch up and knock the person's head clean off in one swipe

He took a deep breath and turned back to face you, expecting you to be running for the hills

Instead, you ran up and hugged him, thanking him through your tears

You weren't... scared?

He had no idea what to do, so he just stood there while you cried into him

At least he was right about his earlier judgment

You were cute

Too cute to turn into just another victim

Thomas Hewitt

He was actually making his way towards you both

He thought you two would be good additions to tonight's menu

But the moment he saw you look at him in relief instead of terror...

Something in him shook

Before you could even say anything, he was guiding you behind him, some protective instinct overriding his usual hunter side

The person who was following put their hands up, saying that they "didn't want any trouble"

And in response, Thomas through a meat cleaver at their head

You about screamed but he turned around, looking at you softly

"I-I'm sorry. You didn't have to d-do that," you said barely above a whisper

He just shook his head and continued to watch you, some internal battle waging inside him

He really really didn't want to kill you

But what would his family think?

Only one way to find out, he supposes

With that, he hoists you up and into his arms bridal style, carrying back home

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba is about three times the size of the guy chasing you

So despite the unpleasant mask, you felt like he was your only chance at safety

He tilted his head in confusion

Normally, people like you run the opposite way from him

So the moment you're in front of him, heaving and shakily explaining what's going on, he feels angry

He might be a murderous cannibal, but Mama taught him some manners

He quickly whips out the chainsaw beside him, causing you to jump at the sight

Now it was the stalker's turn to be afraid

You were left in the woods for probably 15 minutes alone, still too scared to unfreeze yourself from the spot

It was only when you saw a large figure in the distance carrying something that you finally got your bearings

Bubba walked a little past you, holding the body of the man prior

He stops for a second and looks at you, motioning his head for you to follow

And what were you going to do?

Say "no" to the man holding a chainsaw and a dead body?

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms was already on edge

He never strayed this far from the mansion, and the fact that he was out this far made him feel very jumpy

So when he saw you running straight for him, he was ready to attack

Until he saw the desperation on your face

"Help! Please!" you begged him

And a cute thing like yourself would be difficult for him to deny

He saw the figure stalking after you, slowing down when they realized they had company

Brahms stepped in front of you and gave the person a challenged look

And it seemed to have worked, because the person began to back off almost immediately

He could have killed the guy, sure

But he wasn't going to be a threat anymore

Why? Because you were coming home with him

And once you're in his territory, there's no leaving

He'll make sure of it

Norman Bates

Norman wasn't even sure how he got there in the first place

All he remembers was being at home when suddenly everything went black

And now he was here, watching as some person runs up to him him in a panic

Before he could say a word, you were holding onto him, spinning yourself around so you were behind him

And that's when he saw another figure in the distance

"P-please," you suddenly croaked, "I don't know who that is. I was just walking home alone and I-"

He shushes you, his eyes still locked on the man

He could feel your head bump into his back as you bowed, muttering apologies to him

"It's okay," he reassured. "They're not going to do anything."

His brows furrowed as his face twitched

Maybe it was your cute panicked face, or the way your soft hands were gripping his back

But either way, Norman could feel his conscious fading out

He won't hurt you, though the same can't be said for the other person

He just hopes you'll still be there when he comes to

Billy Loomis

You were terrified, that was obvious

But he was honestly surprised that you seemed more scared of a random weirdo behind you than the notorious serial killer straight ahead

You grabbed his arm, not failing to notice the sharp blade in his dominant hand

"I-if you're going to kill me," you gulped, "Then fine, but can you please kill them first?" you motioned

This may have been an odd suggestion to most, but the worst Ghostface was going to do was stab you, but you had no idea what the other person's intentions were

The creep was only a few feet away now, their hand also donning a sharp blade

Billy wouldn't have normally entertained such an idea, but he knew you from school

And God, were you pretty

"Shit," he whispered

He twirled the knife around as he approached the figure, the latter already stepping back

It was an easy kill, and Billy was back to your side in no time

"Thank you," you bowed, head down and awaiting your fate

Instead, he grabbed your chin and made you look at his mask

He couldn't wait to see you at school the next day

Stu Macher

He could see you freeze the moment you were in sight

The Ghostface attire was already pretty notorious in the town, and he could see the worry on your face at the realization

And clearly, the person chasing you also felt the same, because the moment they saw him, they ran off the other direction

Tears began to stream down your face at this

Although, he couldn't tell if they were from relief or fear at that point

He stepped a little closer to you as you stumbled back

"P-please, don't, I-"

He dropped his knife and reached out to you in response

You shakily took his hand, obviously scared of what he was going to do

But he simply began walking you out of the woods, checking around for the creep

He walked you all the way home before giving you a small wave and running off, leaving you completely dumbfounded

He spared you?

It took you a few days afterwards to almost forget about the situation

Until you turned on the news

There was a report of a dead body found in the same woods you were just in a couple nights before

Another apparent criminal from the area...

You gulped, realizing it was your stalker as the phone suddenly rang

"Unknown caller"

Huh, weird

Vincent Sinclair

Bo somehow got him to leave that musty old building

But of course, he ran off to God knows where and left Vincent alone

So the moment he saw your figure sprinting closer, he assumed that Bo would be the one to follow

However, he quickly noticed that the man behind you was not his brother, and he suddenly felt dumbfounded on what to do

Bo would surely be pissed, but something about you told him you shouldn't become just another wax figure in his collection

So the moment you were close enough, he was stepping in front of you, some newfound confidence leading him

The stalker hesitated for a moment before finally stumbling back, leaving the two of you alone

"Thank you, thank you!" you repeated, your head instinctively shifting downwards

Vincent took a deep breath in while looking at you

Yep, Bo was definitely going to be angry

But oh well

You were just too sweet to let go stale

Bo Sinclair

He could hear your erratic footsteps rushing closer to him

And unlike most of the others on this list, he comes off as a seemingly normal guy, so of course you wouldn't hesitate to go to him

His cocky smile only widens when he gets a look at your face

A mighty cute thing, you are

"Excuse me? Sir, I think I'm being followed and-" your voice cracked

How precious

Surely too pretty and too soft to be made into hard wax, hmm?

He steps towards you, and you think he's about to help you

But no

He grabs ahold of your shirt tightly, muttering some smooth nonsense to your stalker about finding "a good place for this one"

Tears begin to stream down you face

How could you have so blindly trusted a stranger?

He leads the both of you back to some empty building that you assume will be the last place you'll be alive

But the moment Bo turns back around, a pipe is swung into the other man's head

He'd be a great addition to the museum

You turn to your "savior" in confusion

"Can't let a pretty thing like you go to waste, huh darlin'?"

All you can do is tilt your head down in a silent "thank you"

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incognit0slut · 1 year ago

Text

BATTLE SCARS

Part 2 of kinktober | main masterlist

What started out as innocently counting body scars with your coworker, who you were stuck in the same bed with, ended far from being innocent.

sub!spencer x fem!reader; Face sitting, male and female oral, body worship, cockwarming

words: 6,300 (I couldn’t help it the buildup was fun to write)

a/n: I hope this shows up on your page because apparently this app hates me

"THERE’S ONLY ONE ROOM LEFT."

Of course, there is, you thought, eyes glancing over to your partner of the day. Spencer was the one you were partnered with when Hotch had sent you to check on the victim's childhood home. He's good at deducing clues, was what your unit chief had said, and although those words were well-intentioned, you couldn't help but feel slightly dejected.

One month of working in the BAU meant that everyone would scrutinize you, even when you knew you were more than capable of doing the job. It wasn't like you were randomly picked for this position. You went through the same process as everyone else did. You were as smart as everyone was but it seemed that your boss still thought you needed a babysitter to do this simple task.

One month of working as the latest addition to the team also meant you didn't know your colleagues that well, which was why you wondered what was going through Spencer's mind in this current predicament. What did he think of the sudden thunderstorm hitting this remote town just as you were about to leave? What did he feel about having to seek shelter because driving in this terrible condition wasn't a choice anymore?

And what ran through his mind when the guy behind the counter, who looked like he didn't even want to be here in the first place, said there was only one room left?

"Are you sure?" Your coworker pressed on, eyes darting across the computer screen sitting on the desk. "Did you check every room? All of them?"

The man in front of him quirked an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm not doing my job right?"

"No, he's not," you cut in. You glanced at Spencer, noticing he was constantly fidgeting on his feet. You might not know him well enough, but you were a profiler, and with the way he kept shifting his weight from one leg to another, you could tell he was uncomfortable with the situation. You wondered what had him so worked up like this. Was it the idea of having to spend the night with a woman?

Well, he did seem like the type of guy who didn't have his fair share of nights with the opposite sex, but then again, you weren't going to start guessing his personal life. Although you did once see him act all bashful in front of a witness who, you had to admit, was the epitome of sweet and innocent. Her traits were probably on the top list of his preferred type, exactly the opposite of yours.

Huh.

So was it just the idea of spending the night with you that ticked him off?

"It's fine," you said, looking back at—you narrowed your eyes at the name tag clipped on his shirt—Kevin. His name was Kevin. "We'll take it."

Spencer's eyes fell on you. "But—"

"But it's pouring outside and neither of us should be driving in this horrible weather," you added. "End of discussion."

He looked like he was about to retort a reply when a sudden string of light cackled through the night sky, followed by another heavy downpour. He winced as his shoulders slumped, another posture of discomfort but one with a hint of defeat. You saw him reluctantly nod from the corner of your eyes.

"Alright," he finally said. "We'll take it."

Kevin slid a key across the wooden desk. "Room 306."

You thanked him and grabbed onto the key before turning on your heels. The walk to the room was extremely quiet except for the constant sound of the rain pouring outside. Spencer shuffled his feet beside you, and even though you wanted to fill in the silence, the thought of him not wanting to room with you annoyed you more than you wanted to admit.

Were you really that bad? Was the idea of sharing a room with you repulsive for him to act this way?

When you finally reached your shared room, an immediate sense of awkwardness washed over you like an unexpected wave. The room, though not large, was well-furnished and neat. But what caught your attention was the sight that greeted you in the dimly lit space. In the center of the room was a bed—not large enough to be luxurious, yet not small enough to be cozy.

Your eyes met briefly with his and a moment of unease passed between you two. Finally, he broke the silence with a hesitant voice. "I can sleep in the car."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his suggestion. "It's pouring outside."

"Right." He sighed, realizing the impracticality of his proposal. "Well, then I'll, uh, sleep on the floor."

"Reid." Your narrowed eyes fixed on him, your patience wearing thin. "The bed is big enough for the both of us. I don't mind sharing."

He paused, clearly taken aback by your straightforward response. "A-Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't," you replied, showing your back to him. "I'm going to use the bathroom first."

"U-uh, yes. Sure. Of course," he stammered, his voice trailing off as he watched you leave the room.

You retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. As you washed your hands and splashed some cool water on your face, you couldn't help but wonder what had led to his initial hesitance. The storm outside was fierce, and the idea of venturing into it to sleep in the car or on the floor seemed impractical, to say the least. You knew that sharing the bed was the most sensible option, but there was an unspoken tension in the room, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why he had been so reluctant.

Turning off the tap, you took a deep breath. Whatever. He could act all uncomfortable as much as he wanted and you could pretend he wasn't even there. So you decided to shed your jeans, leaving yourself in the oversized button-up shirt that served as your makeshift nightwear.

The shirt fell gracefully to the middle of your thighs, offering a sense of ease you couldn't find in your uncomfortable jeans. With them neatly folded and placed on the bathroom counter, you looked back into the mirror one last time, straightening your wrinkled shirt, and ran a hand through your hair before stepping back into the room.

You found him seated on the edge of the bed, his posture awkward and uncertain. You watched as he shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting toward the single window in the shared space, his eyes narrowing each time a particularly strong gust of wind rattled the pane.

You decided to break the silence. "You know, it's just a little rain. We'll be out of here as soon as the weather clears up tomorrow."

His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a mixture of frustration and something else, something deeper, in his eyes. "It's not about the rain," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation.

So it really was about you.

His gaze then traveled over your exposed skin, and you could see his eyes growing wide, clearly taken aback by your choice of attire. "W- What are you wearing?"

Unable to suppress a chuckle at his sudden shift in demeanor, you decided to play along. "Do you mean what I'm not wearing?"

He blinked, his response caught in his throat, leaving him momentarily speechless. His gaping mouth and wide-eyed expression only fueled your amusement. You shrugged in response, trying to play off his intense gaze, but you felt his eyes linger on your thigh, fixated on the long scar mapping along your skin.

"Reid," you called out, and he looked up at you, his expression wry as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been.

"Y-yes?" he stammered, clearly flustered by being caught in the act.

You pointed toward the bathroom. "You can use it now," you suggested.

His face lit up with realization. "Oh! Right," he exclaimed, his flustered state evident as he stumbled on his way to the bathroom.

The awkwardness seemed to follow him as he disappeared into the other room. After turning off the main lights, you left only the soft glow of the bed lamp, which cast a warm ambiance in the room. The covers provided a sense of security and comfort as you finally settled beneath them.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a white shirt he seemed to wear under his button-down shirt. However, unlike you, he still had his pants on, although he did discard his belt.

Seeing him in this stripped-down, casual state was a bizarre sight. You had grown accustomed to his poised and professional demeanor, and the sight of him dressed in ordinary clothes seemed oddly intimate as if you were witnessing a side of him that few others had seen. It was as if you were seeing him naked even when he was still covered in most of his clothes.

He then settled onto the bed with a noticeable awkwardness, causing the mattress to sink down slightly under his weight. He lay far away from you, in a stiff and distant manner, clearly still grappling with the awkwardness of the situation.

"Reid, relax, I'm not going to bite you," you said reassuringly, trying to dispel some of the tension in the room. A small, playful smile danced on your lips. "Unless that's what you want me to do," you added, your voice taking on a teasing note.

A brief moment of silence followed, and it almost seemed as if he was contemplating your playful offer. You felt the tension shift into something else, but before it could further linger, you decided to break the silence with a forced laugh, shaking off the tension. You then rolled over to your side, closing your eyes shut, ignoring the sound of heavy rain hitting the window and the bolt of lightning occasionally flashing through the sky. You just wanted to rest. You just wanted peace. You wanted to sleep.

But sleep didn't want you.

About ten minutes later, you groaned softly and rolled over onto your back. "Reid," you said, breaking the silence.

He hummed in response.

"I can't sleep," you confessed, your voice carrying a hint of restlessness. Turning to face him, you propped yourself up on your elbow. "Tell me something about yourself," you suddenly requested, your curiosity cutting through the awkwardness.

He hesitated for a moment as if considering whether he should respond to you or not, but then he eventually asked, "Anything?"

"Anything."

"Well, I—uh," he cut off, and with a faint hint of modesty, he began again. "I'm extremely smart."

From all the information he could share, he decided to share that. But it was still something, at least you could get your coworker to talk instead of fidgeting in discomfort. "Yeah? How smart?"

"Well, I have an IQ of 187 and three PhDs."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's impressive," you responded, but then you let out a scoff. "And extremely conceited. Someone asks you to share a fact about yourself and you decide to brag about your brain."

Your remark earned you a small, amused smile from him. "You told me to share anything."

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned in a little closer. "Alright, your turn."

He gulped at your sudden movement but kept his attention on your eyes. "My turn for what?"

You laid on your back again. "Ask me something," you suggested.

There was a moment of hesitation as if he had been contemplating whether to ask the question and then his voice filled the air. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" You asked, your brows furrowed slightly.

"Y-Your scar."

You couldn't resist a teasing tone as you turned your head toward him. "Spencer Reid," you taunted, a playful glint in your eye. "Were you checking me out?"

His response was quick and slightly flustered. "What? No!" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "It was a mere observation," he clarified, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

Your laughter filled the room, a light, and genuine sound that seemed to dissolve some of the remaining tension in the air. "Alright, alright," you conceded, still amused by the exchange. "Observation duly noted."

Without warning, you kicked off the covers, a spontaneous decision driven by a mix of curiosity and the playful atmosphere that had developed between you. Your actions were unanticipated, even to yourself, but perhaps it was his flustered self that had spurred you on.

As the covers fell to the side, you extended your leg, showing him the white scar dancing along the inner part of your thigh. His eyes widened in surprise, his gaze drawn to your exposed skin. For a moment, there was silence, as if the room held its breath, and then he met your eyes.

"Fell off a cliff from a hiking trip," you explained, your voice softening with the memory. "I was exploring a trail and had a bit of a mishap. It left me with this scar as a souvenir."

His eyes flickered over the scar. "Did it hurt?"

You shrugged. "It did, but I guess I got through it."

Then, to his surprise, you began to unbutton your shirt. His eyes widened in disbelief at your actions. "W-what are you doing?"

You merely grinned in response, your confidence unwavering. You pushed the material of your shirt off your shoulder, revealing another scar, smaller and darker than the one on your thigh. "This is the most painful one," you explained. "A bullet from a handgun."

He examined the scar intently. "What happened?"

"A chase with a suspect a few years ago," you recounted, recalling your life before you joined the BAU. "We cornered the suspect in an abandoned warehouse, it was a tense standoff. He was armed, and in the chaos of the moment, a shot was fired." You gave him a smile. "I was the unlucky one in the way."

Your eyes locked with one another in a moment of shared understanding, and then you asked, "What about you? Any battle scars?"

He paused for a moment, considering your question. He seemed hesitant at first as if debating whether to share, but then he slowly lifted his shirt, revealing a scar on his lower abdomen. "Flying bullet."

He turned slightly, revealing a slight scar on his lower back, the result of a sharp weapon grazing his skin. It was a subtle yet significant mark. "An Unsub armed with a knife." He then laid back on his back again and tapped his right leg. "There's another scar from a bullet on my knee."

You couldn't help but tease him lightly, your tone playful. "Well, aren't you a magnet for disaster?"

His expression softened at your teasing. You stared at each other silently, taking in each other's presence in the close proximity the bed offered. You weren't sure how, or when for the matter, but it seemed the distance you both created grew shorter in the span of time you were talking.

Your gaze drifted over his features, from his brown orbs to his pointed nose, then along his high cheekbones before settling on the small scar underneath his jawline. It was a subtle mark, but it caught your attention, and you couldn't resist reaching out to gently touch it.

"What about this?" you inquired, your finger tracing the scar. "How did you get it?"

His breath seemed to catch at your sudden touch, and he stammered slightly in response, "I-I cut myself with a razor this morning."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his explanation, and your finger continued to graze his skin, skimming along the faded scar in a circular motion. "And how bad did it hurt?" you asked.

"Not so much," he whispered, his breathing starting to become uneven and it was at that moment you realized how compromising of a position you were in. He was on his back, and somehow you managed to press yourself onto him with a leg resting on his, your hips flushed against his side.

Maybe the rain, the rhythmic pattern of the raindrops beating in synchronized with your heart pushed your actions. Or perhaps it was being in the same bed. Whatever it was, the undeniable proximity between you created a charged atmosphere in the room. Every breath felt heavy, and the air seemed to thicken with unspoken tension, drawing you even closer.

You wanted to kiss him. How could you not when he was looking at you with those eyes? It was hard to ignore this sudden pull of attraction, but Spencer seemed like the type of guy who rarely made the first move. Maybe you needed to initiate it first.

"You know..." you began, your eyes trailing across his tiny scar. "I was thinking of kissing it better?" Your words hung in the air, and you felt him stiffen beside you. "If it was painful, that is."

A charged silence enveloped the room after your suggestive offer. Your heart raced, taking a leap at the first step in crossing the line. He could either play along or push you away, it was a risk you were willing to take, and you prayed he was into it just as you were.

"A- Actually," he stuttered. "I think I'm starting to feel the pain now."

You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. "Oh, you poor thing." And before he could respond, you bent over and pressed your soft lips against his scar. You felt him momentarily freeze. "Better?"

You thought he was about to back away when he didn't answer, but then his words had you grinning from ear to ear.

"...I'm not sure," he replied, his voice cutting through the silence. "I think it still hurts?"

Your smile grazed his scar again, softly, barely even touching it, before you trailed down his jawline, stopping on the crook of his neck.

"I.." He breathed out, his voice sounding strangled as you felt his grip on your hip. "I-I don't think that's where the scar is."

"I know." You opened your mouth, your tongue slightly tasting his skin. "I'm making a scar of my own."

Your parted lips were hot against his skin, his eyes fluttering close as you softly sucked on the spot below his ear. You always loved receiving neck kisses, but giving them? There was a certain sense of power to be able to make someone shiver under you, and it was what he was doing right now, breath hitching every time you sucked on a different spot.

You cupped his face as you continued to trail your lips along his neck, pressing your body closer to his. You moved your hand lower, fingers grazing his jawline before it rested around his throat, and as you put slight pressure on your hold, you heard him inhale sharply. You paused, not sure you were hearing right, but then you tightened your grip around his neck and a soft, strangled moan escaped his lips.

You smiled.

Spencer Reid, you naughty, kinky boy.

"We can stop if you want," you murmured against his skin because truthfully, you knew you couldn't restrain yourself after this.

"N- no," he sighed. "Don't stop."

It was enough for you to throw your leg over him. You lifted yourself up and straddled his lower half, stifling a moan as you felt the hard pressure between your thighs, and pressed your lips against his. You couldn't stop yourself from kissing him with so much fervor. Your lips collided with his as you pushed your tongue inside his opened mouth—tasting him, exploring him, devouring him. Who would've thought you would enjoy kissing your coworker this much?

You pulled away and studied him. Spencer was a blessing to witness. His eyes were heavy and hooded, his hair was disheveled with some strands stuck to his forehead and his lips were swollen and parted as he breathed slowly through them. His pale complexion bore the marks of a flush and you couldn't stop yourself from pushing away a strand of hair from his face.

"You're so pretty." Those words came out of your mouth without much thought in which you received a breathless sigh in return.

"You're.... you're more pretty."

You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair. "You understand I'm not going to stop now, right?" He faintly nodded. "And do you know what that means?"

He shook his head.

"It means I'm going to fuck you," you taunted, a wicked smile curling on your lips. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to use that smart brain of yours.”

The whine flying out of his mouth was enough for you to lean in closer, your lips extremely close to his but not quite touching. "Can I be rough?" His strangled whimper had you wrapping your hand around his throat again. "Use your words, baby."

"Y-yes," he breathed out. "Please."

"Good."

You pulled your hand back and brought it down sharply on his cheek. The sound startled you because it sounded harder than it felt, ringing out loud with only the faintest sting on your palm.

Spencer looked genuinely surprised. His head turned with the impact of the slap, jaw falling open. He blinked himself back into focus and you were about to ask if you were being too much, but then he looked at you in a way he had never looked at you before. The dazed and desperation of his gaze moved right through you, flushing you with heat.

"Such a pretty boy for me," you said, gently rubbing his cheek. You watched him, a curious smile playing at the corners of your lips. In that moment, you felt a peculiar sense of power and intimacy that was unlike any other you had experienced. It was an odd but exhilarating sensation, feeling an almost illicit delight in the power you held over him.

You then slowly straightened yourself. Taking your time, you began to unbutton your shirt as his gaze burned into you. You popped each button open until it left the sight of your black, laced bra on display for his eyes to devour. Your bra showed a hint of skin over the top, bouncing a little as you pulled yourself out of your shirt.

You reached behind your back to unhook your bra before slipping it from your shoulders, allowing your breasts to bounce free. Spencer couldn't help but swipe his tongue across his lips at the sight. Your breasts were on display with hardened, aching nipples to taunt him. You brought them in your palms, playing and squeezing your flesh for a moment just to tease him.

"Do you want to taste me?"

He let out a desperate sigh. "Please."

You placed the palm of your hands on his chest before leaning in, dropping your breasts right in front of his face. It didn't take him long to know what you wanted, and he quickly wrapped your right nipple in his mouth, his tongue hot against your skin.

"Fuck, Spencer," you moaned. You shivered upon the contact. His mouth sucking on your nipple was making your head delirious. Warmth spiraled from your core to the rest of your body as he tasted you, and when you thought you couldn't feel more aroused than you already were, he let go of your swollen nipple just to give his attention to the other one, sucking even harder.

You couldn't handle it anymore. A moment later your fingers ran down his chest, brushing over his stomach to feel him tense beneath your touch until the second you grip the hem of his pants. "Take these off for me."

You had never seen someone move so fast before. The moment you climbed off the bed, he started peeling his clothes from his body piece by piece. He left no article on before throwing his clothes to the floor, eyes raking your body as you stood before him in nothing but your panties. Those were quick to go, however. You pushed them down your hips and flicked the thin fabric past your feet.

A strained groan filled his chest as he looked at you, marveling at your naked form with wonder. Thoughtlessly he wrapped a hand around the base of his hardened cock and your eyes instantly take in the sight. The way he was biting his bottom lip, fingers around his thick, hard length had your mouth watering, but you stopped yourself from giving in.

"Who said you could touch yourself?"

His body tensed. He quickly placed his hands on the bed as you climbed back on the bed, the mattress sinking in from your weight.

“I like to be warmed up a little first," you told him as you settled on top of him again, but this time, you scooted further, putting your knees on either side of his head. Spencer's eyes went wide as he looked up to see you wet and bare, hovering inches away from his face.

"I'm going to sit on your face, and if you can make me come on your tongue..." You started to lower yourself. "I'll give you your reward."

You felt his breath on your center, and the minute his tongue touched you, you let out a moan. He worked his tongue over your clit, swallowing every drop of arousal dripping down his mouth. You gripped the headboard and rocked yourself back and forth while he continued to lap on your pussy without any care for the mess you made. You were wet and sloppy as his tongue moved in and out of you, up and down your folds while also sucking on your swollen clit.

"Oh my god," you moaned, looking down at where you could see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he groaned on your flesh, wrapping his arm around your thighs while never stopping stroking your wetness with his tongue. He held you tight, keeping you in place, and there was nothing else you could do but buck your hips as you ran your hands through his hair and tugged on the strands, receiving a deep, rough yet excited groan from him.

You exhaled his name, not being able to find the words or the breath in you to speak as you felt the familiar coil in your stomach. He flicked his tongue over your clit a few times before gathering up your juices and circling back to the swollen bud, massaging your flesh with the flat of his tongue. You felt the bliss swelling inside your body. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.

"I'm getting close," you warned him, beginning to grind your pussy against his mouth. He groaned against your flesh, sending vibrations through your body in return, and with a few more laps around your clit, you finally reached your high.

You felt the warmth from between your legs surge through your whole body. Your pussy walls tightened as you kept rocking your hips against him, whimpering, moaning, crying out that you were coming. You shivered and trembled above him, tossing your head back, gripping his hair even tighter, and pressing your thighs together around his head.

It took a moment for you to come down from your orgasm, and as you did, his motions slowed down, licking you gently, his hands soothing down your thighs. You finally lift your hips off his face, hovering above him on shaky thighs.

"You did so well," you cooed. You slowly shifted down his body, and when he thought you were about to straddle him again, you surprised him by moving lower.

“Let me give you your reward." You sighed while wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock in a firm grip. "You deserve it."

He felt so hot in your hand, so thick, so big, and utterly beautiful. You slowly moved your hand along his length, stroking him gently as you watched his lips parting open from the pleasure. You continued to stroke him, motions slow and steady, and he eventually closed his eyes, head falling back against the bed. You swiped your thumb across the tip, his eyes shot open as he looked at you.

"Keep your eyes on me."

He carefully propped himself on his elbows to get a better view just as you gripped him tighter while leaning close. The droplet of wetness on the tip looked too nice to be ignored so you leaned in and licked it up, your eyes meeting his gaze, and his jaw slacked open in pure pleasure. A pause settled in the room before you finally took him fully in your mouth, giving him an exploratory suck.

You kept swallowing him down, your jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth, wrapping your hand around what was left. You hollowed your cheeks and greedily inhaled him. His smooth, warm length slid across your tongue and his cock hit the back of your throat.

Without warning his hips jerked up, and you gagged, rearing back off with a cough, eyes watering. "I'm s-sorry," he apologized.

"It's okay, baby, I'm giving you your reward," you whispered before holding his throbbing cock in your grip again. "Hold my hair up for me?"

He did exactly as he was told, gathering your hair in his hands. Your mouth enclosed around him again and you repeated the movement, trailing down his cock with your tongue, hands twisting back and forth, lips sliding back down until you had every inch of him in your mouth.

You glanced up at him, brow-raising mischievously as you moved your head in a rapid motion. He panted out a whine, his chest heaving as he inhaled a lung full of desperately needed air.

"Please..." he whimpered, bucking up ever so slightly. His cheeks burned at the sound of his own desperation. You gazed up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, so pretty and needy. He blinked down at you, your cheeks flushed and lips stretched wide, an utterly obscene sight as you kept swallowing the entire length of him.

And then you felt him starting to shake, his body trembling while the grip on your hair tightened at every stroke of your tongue. You could tell he was on the brink of exploding, yet you didn't want him to finish inside your mouth, so you pulled away just as quickly as you began.

You could tell he was about to whine a protest, but he immediately stopped himself as you climbed on his lap, gripping his cock in your hand and guiding it towards your aching pussy. But then you stopped, eyes meeting with his, your voice softening. "Should I use a condom?"

"You can..." he mumbled as if it was hard to even articulate any words when his tip was already brushing against your wetness. "You can do whatever you want."

You lingered for a moment, grinding yourself against the tip of him, getting wetter as your arousal dripped out. "I want to feel you."

The whimper he let out was loud, almost pornographic. "I want to feel you too."

Then you began to slide his cock into you, slowly, taking your time to draw the moment out. Your body went tense in an instant, you could hardly handle the way his size was pushing into you.

"Fuck, you're stretching me," you moaned the words, tossing your head back while closing your eyes. The content sigh leaving your lips was loud when his tip finally hit that soft spot. You had never felt this full before and you wanted to soak in the way he was filling you so deep, so you buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent as you sit there with his cock stuffed inside of you.

For you, it felt nice, but for him, it was torture. As warm as you were, as tight as you clenched him, he still needed more. With urgency, he reached for your body before his eager hands landed on your hips, a groan of desperation built in his throat as you stayed there, not moving a muscle. "Can... can you move?"

You kissed a spot below his ear. "Why should I?"

"I-I..."

"Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want." Your tone was soft, but you didn't drop the entirety of your dominance. "Do you want me to ride you? Is that it? You want me to fuck you senseless?"

"Yes," he rasped out as if he had been holding his breath. "Please..."

You gripped him by the throat. "Say it."

"Pl-please fuck me," he gasped, gulping for air.

You smiled.

"Good boy," you replied. You began moving against his cock, grinding yourself over his lap, feeling him fill you up and hit deep inside you. It was almost too much but you remained focused. Your palms pressed to his shoulders as you pushed yourself up, moving your hips against his body.

He could feel you squeezing him. Every roll of your hips, every flutter of your walls, and every moan that rumbled from your chest. His huge palms wandered over the small planes of your back, caressing every dip and roll of your body. His eyes glazed over to where you were connected, the sight of your pussy clenching around every inch of him lulled him into a bewitching trance.

Soon you found a somewhat steady rhythm, circling your hips and grinding down on him faster, picking up your pace. You felt your heart drumming against your ribcage and the concoction of arousal running down your thigh and dripping onto his legs.

"God, you're going to make me come so quick," you cried, your hand lowering between your thighs to reach your clit. With two fingers, you began to massage your flesh while bouncing down his cock, riding him, feeling the tip so deep within your walls. You let loose, moaning and whimpering. He couldn't help but groan, feeling your walls tighten around him, feeling your juices drip down his groin.

You felt him thrust upward towards you, following your pace, and a second orgasm started building low in your stomach. You felt it everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to the edge of your toes. It thrummed every nerve, vibrating you to the bone. "Fuck, I'm close."

His breath quickened as he felt your walls clenching him, his eyes brushing every inch of your body. You were such a sight to see. He was entranced by the way you were thrusting yourself on his cock, your breasts bouncing from the movement, your taut nipples begging for attention. He couldn't stop himself when he suddenly pulled you in, momentarily surprising you, and sucked onto your nipple hungrily.

You cried out when you felt his teeth softly tugging your nub. You were supposed to be in control, and you still wanted to keep your dominance, but it was hard to when he suddenly planted his feet on the bed and thrust his hips into you at a mind-numbing speed. Harshly. Roughly. Violently.

"Fucking hell, Spencer," you moaned, holding onto his shoulders. "I-I'm gonna—"

His fingers dug harshly into the tender skin of your sides, his hips were bucking up uncontrollably, desperate to reach the blissful relief. His tone became ragged as he groaned what sounded like your name entwined. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that began uncoiling in his entire body. You grabbed onto his unruly hair, tugging it back roughly before smearing open-mouthed kisses all over his throat and collarbones, voicing out your whimpers right into his ear.

That was enough for him—he came undone, allowing his muscles to contract one last time as he spilled into you, filling you completely with warmth with one last thrust. You followed him with a scream, wrenched from your throat so roughly it seared its way out of your lungs and into the air. Your movements became sloppy and uneven, clinging onto him as you chased your own high.

The room smelt of sex. It was your first thought when you finally felt your body relaxing, your mind coming back to its senses. Never, not even once in your life, have you ever considered kissing Spencer willingly.

Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he had the most amazing eyes, and yes, his soft demeanor did attract you the first time you met him, but that was it. He was simply your coworker, one you didn't know that well, one who seemed to make a big deal out of spending the night with you... and ironically, one who had you shaking in pleasure.

You weren't sure what would happen next. At first, you thought your presence ticked him off in the wrong way because you were the new, inexperienced member of the team... but now you couldn't help but speculate the way he acted differently towards you had something to do with what just happened.

Maybe he didn't think of you as a mere colleague... maybe he thought of you as someone potentially more? You could be right, or you could be wrong, and there was only one way to find out. You softly let your fingers brush his cheek.

"You need to take me out on a proper date," you suggested through the silence. Then a smile bloomed on your face when you felt him dip his head in your palm.

The nod he gave you couldn't be anymore faster.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds smut

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borathae · 24 days ago

Text

Pink Ribbons

“Pink ribbons around his dainty wrists, his pretty hair a mess and drool covering his puffy lips. Your husband has never looked cuter.”

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Smut

Warnings: sub!Jungkook, Mommy Dom!Reader, cozy BDSM, safe power play, a cute chicken & movie date, he is very snuggly and clingy <3, he is also very obedient and the goodest boy, praise, good boy kink, loving dirty talk, bondage with pink silk ribbons, she takes videos of him because he is the cutest, handjob as he sits on her lap, gentle movements with lots of love, lots of kisses and touches all over his pretty body, a lil bit of edging, he is in such a cozy & safe subspace, he cums all over himself, did i mention that this is incredibly soft & cozy?, did you know that this is cozy?

Wordcount: 4.9k

a/n: i love him so much!!!!! omfg i'm sobbing :( he is the cutest pookie ever 😭 this story made me feel very cozy as i was writing it, i hope you guys can feel cozy as well hehe 💗 did you know that this is cozy?

“Jungkook, Jungkook, Bunny, Bunny, Bunny”, you come running around the corner calling his name repeatedly.

Jungkook, who is in the middle of a relaxing yoga session next to the windows, lifts his head.

“Yes?”

You plop down in front of him, holding your phone.

“I saw something.”

“Okay?” Jungkook sits back, knowing that he won’t be able to continue his exercises until you showed him whatever you saw.

“Do you have time? Is it okay?” you ask.

“Yes, show me”, he assures you, scooting closer to you so he can see better.

You recently downloaded some famous video app because your college friends all talk about it and you wanted to feel included. You told him that you are only doing it to be trendy and to actually know what the young people talk about, but Jungkook has a gist that you are finding a liking in the app yourself. Sometimes he catches you literally cackling at your phone because of something funny you saw on the app. Other times, like today, you come running to show him whatever delighted you.

“I just saw this and it’s so cute. Look.”

You flip the phone and show him the video. It is a video of a generally perceived as attractive man filmed in pink light. Jungkook’s heart tightens in jealousy, his stomach sinks.

“Isn’t it cute?” you ask him.

“Why do you think that other men are cute?” Jungkook throws back with a huge, massive, immense pout, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “hmpf.”

“What? No you stupid noodle, it’s about the ribbons. Look.” You repeat the video. “His girlfriend tied ribbons around his arms and his torso and his wrists. Isn’t that so cute? We could do that too.”

“Ooooooh” Jungkook’s lips form the perfect O-shape and his eyes widen, arms relaxing, “ooooh you mean thaaat.”

You slap his chest gently.

“Stupid noodle. Of course I do. He is not cute. You are.”

Jungkook grins, “course I am.”

You roll your eyes. He is such a jealous baby sometimes.

“Whatever, silly. What do you think of the idea? Should we play with ribbons?”

Jungkook doesn’t need to think for long.

“Yes, I love the idea”, he agrees, nodding his head.

“Coolio as fuck.”

Jungkook laughs, “you don’t sound trendy when you talk like this. Just saying.”

“Whatever.” You stand up. “I’ll be going ribbon shopping. Should I get takeout?”

“Yes, god. I want chicken.”

“Alrighty right. I’m going now. See you later alligator.”

“My love, please stop talking like this”, Jungkook laughs.

You merely grin at him and then leave, telling him that you won’t take long and that you love him.

Jungkook returns to his yoga session, finding great relaxation this way. His week was very stressful and yoga always calms him down.

He already finished his session, now getting tomorrow’s outfit ready, when you come back home. It is not a work outfit, but a date outfit because tomorrow is date day. Jungkook has been looking forward to date day the entire week. It is your turn to plan the activities and you hinted at bowling. Jungkook really loves bowling.

“My love, I’m home!”

“I’m upstairs!”

You appear in the dressing room soon, carrying the bags of your shopping tour.

“I got the stuff”, you tell him, grinning proudly.

“Yeah? That’s so cool, my love.”

“Wanna eat the chicken on the sofa?”

“Wanna watch a movie as we do?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure, let’s do that then. I’m picking out an outfit for tomorrow.”

You smile at him, “very good. Make sure that you can move in it well.”

Jungkook giggles and nods his head obediently. He loves date day!

“Good boy. Come downstairs once you’re done. I’m setting up the chicken.”

“I understand. Thank you, Mommy.”

You sit on the floor, switching through your movie choices, when Jungkook joins you. He does so rather vigorously, plopping down next to you to wrap his limbs around you and pull you into the biggest cheek smooch ever.

“Mmmmmmwuah” he lets out, following the smooch with a nose nuzzle against your cheek.

You chuckle fondly, caressing his lower arms, “you’re a cutie. Did you pick out a nice outfit?”

“Yes, you’ll like it a lot”, he says, resting his chin on your shoulder to gaze at you, “Mommy, you’re so pretty.”

You look at him, smile and kiss his forehead.

“You’re feeling clingy tonight, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, really clingy.” Jungkook gives you a big squeeze and nuzzle. “It’s because tomorrow is date day. I love date days so much.”

“I love them too.” You say fondly. “Should we watch a horror movie or something romantic?”

“I want romantic. I feel too soft for horror tonight. Is that okay for you?”

“Sure. Anything my soft Bunny wants. Should we watch this one?”

Jungkook, still snuggled against you, turns his head so he can look at the TV. A movie you both haven’t seen yet. You talked about watching it together.

“Yes, let’s do that. We haven’t seen that one yet.”

“I heard it’s great”, you say and press play.

The movie starts, but you shift your attention to Jungkook. You put some distance so you could grab his sleeves and roll them up for him.

Jungkook lets you with a fluttering heart. His heart flutters even more when you put a paper bib around his neck so he wouldn’t get dirty. It came with the chicken and carries the restaurant’s logo. You finish the sweet gesture by pinching both his cheeks softly.

“There we go, now you’re proper”, you say, making him lift his shoulders shyly.

You turn to the front, rolling up your own sleeves and putting on a bib as well. You hand Jungkook a pair of plastic gloves, putting on your own.

“I can’t wait to dig in”, you say, picking up the first chicken piece of many.

Jungkook needs a few moments before he can start eating. Moments like these are no big deal to you, but they are huge deals to him. Taking care of him comes so natural to you that he should already be used to it, but he truly isn’t. It always feels so special when you coddle him.

He needs to hug you, even if you are already eating.

“Hm?” you let out, eyes glued to the TV and mouth stuffed with delicious chicken.

“I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you too, Bunny. Now eat baby, before it gets cold.”

“Yes, okay”, Jungkook listens well, putting on his gloves to finally dig in.

“Good boy. Do you like it? I went to your favourite place.”

“I love it so much. It’s so yummy”, Jungkook gushes, stuffing his mouth full of chicken.

“That’s good to hear. Eat as much as you want.”

You and he are silent as you eat, enjoying the movie fully. The chicken tastes delicious. You went for three different flavours. Natural in a crispy, crunchy breading. Honey soy garlic which tastes so rich and savoury. Spicy sweet chilly which is Jungkook’s favourite because he likes spicy food. You like it as well, but Jungkook seems to be truly obsessed with it tonight, so you let him have most of it while you stick to the other flavors. They are delicious as well and you want to see Jungkook happy. He is so adorable when he is happy from good food that you could never ever take this away from him, even if it meant missing out on your favourite chicken flavour.

You clean up after finishing. Jungkook wanted to do it because you already did everything else but you told him to stay put. He listened very well.

Tonight is a certain energy present between you and him. A sort of silent understanding that your roles are more prominent even in the mundane, domestic things. Granted, stuff like taking care of him and praising him, are your daily tasks, but tonight there is energy in them. Electric, warm energy. Jungkook gives you the same kind of energy back, letting you know that he is in a mild subspace just from the way he moves and talks around you.

You return with chocolate cookies and cocoa as dessert. Jungkook is waiting for you on his knees and sitting on his crossed feet, hands folded on his lap. He stayed put. The position, he decided to do it in, is the last proof you needed to know that he feels the same energies you are feeling. This is a domestic, relaxing moment as much as it is also casual, soft power play.

“I hope that you like cookies and cocoa for dessert. I was feeling cozy. Careful, the cup is hot.”

“Yes, this sounds yummy. Thank you for preparing it”, Jungkook says, accepting the cocoa with sweater paws. He blows on it to cool it down.

“Of course, anything for you.”

You sit down on the sofa and press play on the movie. There is still half an hour left. You bend forward and rake Jungkook’s hair gently. He shivers, tilting his head back and gazing at you. He sets the cup down on the table.

“Who’s my good boy?” you ask him.

“I am.” He lets out and exhales shakily, leaving his position so he could hug your legs and nuzzle his face into your lap. “I'm your good boy.”

“That’s right, my good boy”, you say, leaning back comfortably. You begin combing his hair with your fingers, scratching his scalp soothingly.

Jungkook stays seated by your feet, resting his cheek on your thigh. He watches the movie with heavy lids, tingling each time you scratch him behind his ear. Only when he takes a sip of the cocoa, he sits up for a vast moment.

After around ten minutes you bend down again, kissing the side of his neck. Jungkook shivers, letting out a surprised gasp.

“My good boy”, you says softly and straighten up, scratching his undercut gently. From the corners of your eyes, you watch how he is squirming.

Another ten minutes pass and you both have finished the cocoa and cookies. Jungkook stays seated after setting his empty cup down, shimmying in discomfort.

“What’s the matter?”

“My butt hurts.”

“What? No way, come up here immediately.”

Jungkook leaves the floor, climbing onto the sofa with you. He lies down on his side, resting his head on your lap. Then he sighs, melting in relaxation.

“Is that better?” you ask him, rubbing his hip gently.

“Yeah, it’s so comfy.”

“That’s good.”

You slide your hand to his butt, eliciting a gasp from him.

“Relax. I’m just gonna get rid of the ache, okay?” you assure him.

He giggles, wiggling his butt against your hand.

The rest of the movie is spent like this. By the end of it, Jungkook can barely keep his eyes open. He is so relaxed in your presence that the word stress doesn’t even exist in his mind anymore. Like most romance movies, it makes him cry when the couple is falling into each other’s arms happily.

You watch it happen fondly, providing him comfort by scratching his back slowly while he sniffles and whimpers in happy tears. You are so immensely in love with him. He brought out the real you, the you who is so happy to be soft and who loves to watch cheesy romance movies.

Jungkook lets out an especially loud sniffle, shoulders shaking.

“Gosh Bunny, are you alright?”

“Yes”, he is talking in a pout, “they’re so in love. I’m so happy”, he whines and sobs, hugging your legs to hide away in them.

“You’re the cutest”, you coo, ruffling his hair.

“They’re so in love. I love this movie so much.”

“Me too, Bunny. It’s a very cute ending.”

“Yes. So cute.” He flips over, looking up at you sniffly and teary eyed. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Bunny”, you say softly, wiping his tears. He always gets like this after a romantic movie. He cries in happiness, then needs to look at you and tell you his feelings. It is as if the love in the movie filled his heart with too many feelings of its own and the only remedy is the view of you.

“I love you so much that, that if we were both bunnies and we were cuddling, I’d put one ear over you to keep you warm.”

Your heart flutters, bursting in giddiness. You let out a squeal of too much cuteness and drag him into a kiss by squishing both his cheeks.

He stumbles to his knees, ending up on your lap soon after with his hands on the nape of your neck and his flushed cheeks under your fingertips.

You always get like this after a romantic movie. He tells you cute things and you get so overwhelmed by them that you need to kiss him until his head is foggy and his lips are tender. You are starving and the only taste you crave is his kiss.

The hunger was especially unbearable tonight. The silent understanding of the power dynamic added craving to the starvation. Oh, you cannot get enough of him.

Your fingers, once tasked with cradling his face, fall to his dainty waist. Jungkook gasps, breaking the kiss with parted lips.

“You’re mine”, you lull the words, eyes still closed. He is wearing an oversized jumper but when you hold him like this, it exposes the real size of his waist. It makes you a little crazy.

“Yes, Mommy. I am”, he whimpers, squirming in your possessive touch.

“I’ll make you mine even more with the ribbons.”

He giggles, nodding his head.

“Yes, Mommy. You can do whatever you want to.”

“What if I wanna keep going until you made a mess?”

Jungkook exhales shakily, nodding his head.

“Please…”

“Yes? You’d want that?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Fuck, Bunny. I don’t know if I can control myself any longer.”

Jungkook rolls his hips on your lap, sighing his words, “don’t control yourself please.”

“But I have to. You’re so soft, I’d only break you.”

Jungkook exhales shakily, falling around your neck. Your words are so strong. Your voice does the rest. Jungkook with his obvious and immense voice kink is broken.

“Please Mommy, please don’t hold back please”, he begs.

“You’re lucky that you’re so cute”, you say and stand up with him in your arms. Jungkook wraps his legs around, moaning happily because he thinks that you will carry him to bed.

You, however, set him down on the sofa, keeping his eyes on you by guiding his head.

“Can you stay put for me?”

“Yes, Mommy. I can”, Jungkook promises, nodding his head obediently.

“Good boy. Be patient, I’ll be back soon”, you tell him, giving him one last forehead kiss before you leave him to prepare everything.

You clean the coffee table of the dessert and disappear upstairs to get the ribbons, jogging down with them.

Jungkook stayed put the entire time, sitting up straight and with his eyes focused on the wall before him. He turned the television off.

“Look at you.”

His eyes are instantly on you.

“You’re such a good boy. You stayed put.”

He exhales shakily, following you with his eyes as you return to him. You stand in front of him, combing your fingers through his hair. His eyes fall closed, his lips part. He lets out a quiet moan, sounding so sweet.

“You’re so handsome”, you speak softly and will continue to do so for the rest of this moment. It feels right to do. It is such a comfortable and healing moment, which can only be enjoyed when whispered.

Jungkook is in heaven because of it. There is nothing more comforting to him than being spoken to softly. He feels so safe in your presence. So incredibly safe.

“Keep your head like this”, you order him and because Jungkook has no ounce of brattiness in his bones, he listens well.

“Good boy.”

Your praise makes his entire body tingle. It is the main reason why he could never disobey you. Why would he, if the reward for being good is your praise in your voice?

His eyes are still closed which means that the sudden soft ribbon around his neck surprises him. He opens his eyes, coming face to face with your features as you tie a loose bow around his neck. His heart flutters.

You give the ribbon a gentle tug once tied, making him sigh in bliss and tilt his head back to reveal more of his adorned neck.

“What a pretty little present you are”, you say, caressing his chin before you move on to another part of his body.

Jungkook feels so warm in his chest. He swears that he could touch the stars right now. He is yours and he is it gladly.

The next ribbon you wrap around his chest, ending it with a surprise kiss on his lips because the position allows it. Jungkook scrunches his entire face in giddiness, gazing at you as he giggles.

You giggle with him, caressing his cheeks because he deserves it.

“It’s funny. I’m calling you a present but I’m wrapping you up instead of unwrapping you.”

“It’s so nice”, he sighs, kicking his feet.

“Yeah, it’s pretty epic. Now next. Arms.”

Jungkook shifts them into the correct position all on his own, earning himself yet another praise. And yet again, it leaves him tingly.

You decorate his left arm first, then his right, ending it by giving his arms gentle rub downs. Jungkook shivers, flexing his muscles for you.

“So strong. Have you been increasing the weights?”

“Yeah, I have.”

“I can really tell. What a strong Bunny you are.”

“Thanks, Mommy”, Jungkook croaks, voice trembling. Is it possible to orgasm from too much praise? Because if he gets praised any more, he might actually cum.

“Now, wrists.”

He presents them proudly, palms facing up and next to each other. It is a given that you have to kiss each of them. It would be a crime if you didn’t.

Afterwards, you guide them together, tying a ribbon around them. You make sure that they wouldn’t pinch or cut off blood flow but still keep him in place, finishing it with a pretty bow.

“Wow, look at you”, you have to squeak because the view of him makes you so giddy.

Jungkook giggles and shimmies on the couch, kicking his feet.

“You are so fucking adorable. Gosh”, you cradle his face. “I could eat you.”

He smiles dreamily, leaning into your touch. He gets kissed on his forehead and feels eternal. He loves you so very much.

“Now stay like this. I need to take a video like she did”, you say and pick up your phone. You scroll on it with two hands, scrunching your brows.

Jungkook has to giggle, gazing up at you.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just, when you’re using your phone like this, you’re really channeling your Mommy energy. You look like you never used a phone before.”

“Wow, rude”, you laugh, nudging his cheek, “it’s not my fault that new technology uses such tiny fonts. Oh here, found you camera app.”

Jungkook snickers and shifts back into position. His heart is racing so much. You make him so happy.

“Now look the prettiest for me”, you say and press record.

Jungkook does his very, very best to pose for you. He keeps his back straight, his wrist presented, he gives you puppy eyes and even does a little lip bite. If you want him looking the prettiest for the cameras, then he will look the prettiest.

“Wow, look at you”, you gush, replaying the video, “you’re so handsome.”

“Can I see too, please?”

“Of course. Look.”

You show him the video. Jungkook watches intently, having to squirm on the sofa. The ribbons look so good on his body, he looks so owned.

“Aren’t you adorable?”

“Yeah”, he gets out shakily, biting his lower lip afterwards.

You watch it happening, feeling tingly. You put the phone aside and sit down next to him, patting your lap.

“Come here. I’ve got one more ribbon I want to put on you.”

Jungkook gladly obeys, climbing on your lap in a way so that he was facing you. He squirms at the feeling of your touch on his body, trying his hardest not to moan. It would be so embarrassing if he already moaned before you even as much as played with his cock.

Judging by the hungry glimmer in your eyes, this is exactly what you are planning to do. And Jungkook can barely breathe because of it. He misses your touch so much.

“Lift your butt.”

He obeys. You hook your fingers in his sweats and tug them over his perky butt.

“Wait. I can help.”

“Do it.”

Jungkook stands up for the time being, letting you undress him. He steps out of his sweats and later his briefs, then climbs back on your lap. His oversized jumper still adorns his torso, looking so pretty.

You tug it from his cock, letting it pool behind it. He is already hard, throbbing when the fabric brushes his tip.

"Aw, look at you. Is someone really needy for my touch?”

“Yes, so needy. Please.”

“Mhm, soon. Just gotta get you pretty for me.”

Jungkook giggles. You are wrapping the last ribbon around the base of his cock. You snicker because hearing him laugh makes you want to join him.

“How’s that for a last place?”

“Sexy…oh god, I can feel it aahmm.”

You give it a gentle tug, then finish it off with a bow. Jungkook definitely feels the pressure, but it isn’t as intense as a cockring would be. He likes it so much that he is biting his lower lip again, furrowing his brows.

“How’s the pressure?”

“Good. Gentle.”

“That’s good. Let me know if it gets uncomfortable.”

“I will.” He squirms. “Please. Can you touch me?”

“How can I refuse you when you’re so polite?”

You close your hand around his adorned base and dance it up to his tip.

“Ah, Mommy”, Jungkook moans loudly, arching his back and throwing his head back.

You watch his reaction with a tingling stomach, having to chuckle. Jungkook hears it, rolling his head to the front to look at you nervously. Your hand is around his tip, motionless and driving him insane.

“Why are you laughing?” he asks quietly.

“It’s just that I literally only put my hand around your cock and you’re already moaning so much. It’s adorable.”

“Mommy, don’t tease me please. I can’t help it”, he whines, pouting.

“Aw, I’m sorry Bunny. Here, let me make it up to you”, you say and finally pick up a rhythm.

“Woah”, Jungkook gasps, eyes widening and cock twitching between your fingers. Next he bites his lower lip - again - and mewls, furrowing his brows. Lastly, he arches his back and drops his head. His mouth opens, his high-pitched moans escape.

“So good. Such a good boy”, you rasp, hand moving around his cock in a constant rhythm. Slow and dragged out because you want him aware of every single movement. “You sound so sweet for me.”

“Feels….so….good….aaahmmm.”

“It does, Bunny. I love touching your cock. You’re so pretty and perfect.”

He twitches each time you praise him, tip glistening between your fingertips and shaft pulsating needily. You want to be everywhere at the same time. It is so addicting to touch his cock.

“Oh god, it feels so good”, he croaks and throws his head back, dropping his tied up hands against your chest. He is clutching whatever small amount of fabric his constricted hands can grasp, moaning your nickname like it is all that he can do.

“There we go, hold onto me. Good boy.”

“Please, seriously, please don’t stop”, he begs, legs tightened around your thighs.

“Mhm, you must feel so good right now”, you whisper mindlessly.

He nods his head vigorously, hips shaking on your lap. He moans just for you, delighting you even more. He does. He feels so good right now. So, so good. Nobody, not even himself, could touch him like you are able to.

“Of course you do. It would be a shame if I just…” you trail off, removing your hand from his cock.

“No please”, he whines, rolling his head to the front. He gives you the most lethal puppy eyes, pouting. “Please, Mommy. I-I was a good boy.”

“Yeah, that’s true. You were.”

“Please?”

He is so adorable. Pink ribbons around his dainty wrists, his pretty hair a mess and drool covering his puffy lips. Your husband has never looked cuter before. You can’t say no to him. You just can’t.

“Put your arms behind my head.”

He obeys.

“Good boy, now let me taste your moans.”

Jungkook moans, leaning in to kiss you. He instantly uses tongue, moaning louder when you wrap your hand around his cock again to pump it. He throbs between your fingers, leaking all over them.

You pick it up and use it to increase the speed of your touch. He was such a good boy tonight and you want to make him feel good. No more teasing, he is supposed to feel in heaven from now on.

And you know that he does. He moans and whimpers, breaking the kiss every now and then when he needs to gasp for air or be a little louder. You talk sweet words to him whenever he has to, playing with his hair or rubbing circles into his neck.

It isn’t long after that Jungkook can’t kiss you back anymore, dropping his face into the crook of your neck.

“Mommy please”, he sobs, convulsing on your lap. His entire weight is on you right now, also pressing on your chest because he is currently squeezing himself against you.

His arms are restless, tensing and flexing as his shaky hands try to break free from their constraints. He could easily break free, but you ruined him enough that his muscles feel weak.

“Do you like this?”

“Like it. Ah” he sobs, “ahmmmm Mommy…”

“My sweet Bunny. Lean into me, that’s good.”

“I have to…soon… please can I?”

“Yes, my baby, you can. Just let me do it for you. Make a mess for me, baby”, you encourage him, pumping his weeping tip.

His veins are bulging by now, his base is stretching the ribbon. He is so restless on your lap that he constantly rubs his balls on you as well. It feels so good. Jungkook is entirely and utterly in your hands.

Quite literally.

And it only takes him three mores strokes to make a total mess of them.

He squeaks, tenses up and then you feel it. Warm, messy cum shoots from his cock covering your hand and parts of your bodies. He sobs your name when the shakes finally set in, holding you close as best as possible.

“Good boy. Cum for me. Fuck, you’re such a good boy”, you talk him through it, keeping your touches focused on his tip because he is most sensitive there.

Jungkook is able to handle nine pumps and then overstimulation sets in, instantly making him beg and whine.

“Stop please. No more, please.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Thank you, Mommy. Thank you!”

“There we go, good boy.”

Now satisfied, you release him of his pleasurable hell. You keep the messy hand between his legs for now, hugging him with your other arm.

And Jungkook falls into a trance of gratefulness, afterglow and adoration. He sighs and whimpers, gasps and sighs some more as his body recovers from the intense high.

“Thank you Mommy. I love you.” The two sentences repeat themselves, growing quieter and quieter the deeper he falls into the relaxing afterglow.

“You’re welcome, Bunny. I love you too”, you answer him every single time, feeling entirely content. Honestly, you could play with him for hours. Being with him like this, makes you so happy.

It is Jungkook who breaks the cozy hug, running his eyes over your features. He is smiling with them, cheeks flushed and bangs sticking to his forehead.

“I made a mess”, he confesses and snickers.

“You made a mess. A pretty big one actually. You really needed that orgasm, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I think I did. I feel so submissive tonight and so soft and then you dressed me up in the ribbons and praised me and yeah…” he grins goofily. “I love being your sub, Mommy.”

“And I love being your Domme, Bunnybaby.”

“Can we do this again one day? Please? Oh, I feel so cozy right now”, he says and snuggles into you. “I don’t want to leave this space.”

“Of course we can do this again. Maybe I’ll tie you to something when we do.”

“Yes please. Please do this”, he sighs and melts into a total weak mess of limbs on your lap.

His heart is racing. You hold him close, snuggling your nose into the crook of his neck. He smells like a good orgasm and his floral shower gel. You love his scent.

“My Bunny”, you whisper, melting into him as well.

Date day is going to be extra romantic tomorrow. After such a night, it will be difficult not to stick to him at all times.

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takes1 · 17 days ago

Note

aaa HI OMG!!!i love ur writing . i ate UP that kuroo x hard-to-get!reader.

i have a req; could youuu… write kuroken x reader nsfw? >< u can choose the gender, established relationship, reader is sooo neeedy, kuroo/kenma both please them together and continuously praise them for taking it all so well…

>_o whatever the answer may be to this,THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME!!!!!

p.1 kenma sharing you with kuroo

hi babes!! love this idea and it came at a good time too. this is a soft continuation of the needy!kenma fic

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / third!kuroo / established relationship / kuroo being so horny for you and kenma / crushing on kuroo / kuroo being rough / adult conversations / angsty smut / porn with plot / heavy petting / ass grabbing / getting walked in on / praise kink!reader / kenma being a great partner / 2.4k words / hopefully just a two-parter / pls reply to be added for next part!

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. part two here. final part.

"Ohh-Hooo-h shit-!"

Kuroo stuttered, eyes briefly getting their fill of that pretty body perched atop his best friend- who was- god damn- far more hung than he would've guessed.

Kenma raised his voice, half-sitting up to help cover you, with an incredulous, "Dude!"

That's right- he forgot that he was just standing there, mouth open under his palm. He was checking out the way you covered your tits with one arm, and attempting to cover your boyfriend with your free hand.

His surprise morphed into a guttural laugh at his honest mistake. He slammed the door closed behind him.

You could both hear a cackling that seemed like it was generated from the walls themselves.

"You okay?"

Kenma's hand cupped your face, cooling your warm skin down. It took you back to what had been a very intimate moment.

The sudden interruption, though nerve-wracking, didn't turn you entirely off like you thought it might. You leaned into his touch, a bit of worry on your brow, but didn't demand any extra coddling.

"I'm- I'm oka-y," You kissed his palm with a shaky sigh.

It didn't need to be a spoken thing; Kenma threw some sweatpants on, careful to keep an eye on you to ensure that was the truth, and slipped out to deal with Kuroo.

Kenma held his aggravation in a more grumpy, rather than wrathful, way. Where most guys would have flown off the rails, maybe keen to pick a fight with him, Kenma shut the door softly. He kept his tone even.

The taller of the two knew it was serious when he kept steady eye contact. That didn't necessarily mean he would suddenly stop finding the situation funny, but he respected -or, at least tolerated- the idea of privacy and 'territory.'

"Why are you here?" He mumbled, accusatory.

Kuroo raised his hands with a shrug, then let them flop to his sides in a defensive motion, "I was checking on you! It sounded like you were having a heart attack over the mic,"

"-I had no idea you were..."

His looked right through him, trailing over your lingering form in the door. He bit back a smirk.

It was such a prestigious opportunity at his fingertips. If he played his cards just right.

Kenma followed his eyeline to you, clad in his shirt that barely touched your thighs if you stood up straight. Good thing you were leaning on the frame, pulling a little on the hem, waiting for him to come back. His groin ached with the need to cut this short.

His voice lowered at your presence, "-Having so much fun."

The suggestive tone, worsened by the filthy expression that always made him look somewhat guilty, had you both warm at the topic.

"Well, thank you-," You were little raspy from what you had been doing, and moved forward to put a supportive arm around Kenma's waist, slowly pulling him back towards the bedroom, a little 'Let's Speed This Up.'

"For- um, checking on him."

Your partner couldn't help but smile, a soft and distracted look on his face as he turned to press a kiss to your cheek.

Physical touch, PDA, all wasn't a big deal to Kenma. It was how he loved, both with you and his friends. Kuroo had been an enthusiastic witness to some pretty raunchy stuff, over time.

Even a blind man could see that you two were checked out of this conversation already. You moved back into the bedroom, that shirt simply not enough fabric to cover your ass.

Before you could tell Kuroo 'Thank you,' one more time, he put a hand against the door.

He wedged half of his body in, like he was trying to squeeze into an already crowded elevator. You stayed standing just a little behind Kenma- not because you were threatened, but mostly because you didn't want to get in the way of their conversation. It felt like this should stay between two long-term friends. To make matters worse, the way you felt about Kuroo was confusing, and you weren't ready to dissect it yet.

"Ah-haha, you know," He laughed at himself, unable to find the right thing to say for the first time in a while, "I- I...I joke about it a lot-- but,"

He cleared his throat, mostly looking to see if Kenma was going to stop him, in the midst of what you all knew he was going to say.

"If you're looking to... 'spice things up,'" His nervousness was secondary to that cocky smirk across his jaw, "I know a guy who's available right now."

The 'You need a third?' joke was replayed so much that you and Kenma had grown desensitized to it. Now, it was catching up to you. You wished you had talked about it, sooner.

Satisfied with leaving Kenma to speak, you looked away, but realized all your toys were still out. The sight made you squirm, hoping Kuroo had not noticed (he did), and when you looked up- they were both staring at you.

"What?" Was so quiet that it was barely a word- so you swallowed and gave a panicked look to Kenma, whom you trusted, and figured would handle this in a conventional 'No, thank you' way-, "Why are you--?"

He wasn't so confident, especially not as sure as you'd have preferred, "I mean... It- doesn't sound too bad."

It felt like a test.

"Sweet," Kuroo laughed and stepped further inside- the only one able to be so lighthearted, with no difficult questions to consider.

"Wait-wait, wait, are you--," You were trying to decipher Kenma's passive demeanor here, "Are you serious? He's your friend."

Kenma nodded slowly, eyes closed, "I know."

He sighed, and made sure to be gentle with the way he worded this and the way he delivered it. It still felt like a knife to the stomach when he turned to you, took your hands, and said:

"But, I know you like him."

Heart racing, you looked both guilty and upset, and though you tried not to look at Kuroo, you couldn't help it. He was standing still, arms crossed, with one hand covering his mouth in concentration at the scene playing out before him.

"Hey," Kenma brought your attention back to him, "Hey, I'm not upset about it- look at me, baby."

You had to sit down. How could he know that, when you didn't- at least not yet? That wasn't what you had deemed it to be. In the midst of your conversation, Kuroo quietly slipped out of the room once more to give you both some emotional space. He did not mean for it to get that serious.

You were so faint that it was difficult to hear you, even standing right in front of you. He held your face in his hands and attempted to rub your stress away.

"I wouldn't say that, exactly--," You took a shaky breath in, and tried to find the right way to word it, "I think he's- attractive, I guess, but you know I love you. You're mine."

Kenma kissed your forehead a few times, relatively unbothered, "I know. And- I love you too. A lot."

You both smiled at one another and found comfort there.

"I'm just saying... It's okay to like him, too." He was the only one who could eye contact. The concept of it bothered you, but you liked the way you were being acknowledged, and validated.

"I promise."

His thumb brushed your cheek, and he caught another pretty, but still repentant, smile.

"It doesn't bother me," He asserted one more time for good measure, and let his lips fall onto yours.

It was warm, and kind, and soft- an 'I love you, no matter what,' in physical form.

His hands shifted, gentle and slow, up into your hair, his tongue swiped across your bottom lip before sucking on it, just to close out the kiss.

"We-," You lost your breath, so you took a moment to catch it, as he straightened back up, "Um- we don't have to, if you don't want to."

Five feet away, Kuroo was silently punching the air, absolutely geeking over the possibility that after all of that, there was still a chance he wouldn't get to fuck.

Kenma wiped his mouth of the trail of spit you hadn't caught in time, a little raise on his brow.

"I just wanna try this out."

He sounded so sure. Like he was only waiting to check that you were game, first. Where was the hesitation for him? Was this something he had already worked through, on his own time?

You watched him adjust, then rub a hand on the back of his neck.

He called to Kuroo.

His head peeked through the door, "Are you guys- uh, all good, ooor?"

Kenma opened the door wide for him. Their body language was just a little off. You couldn't tell exactly how, other than the energy between them as they looked each other over. It certainly wasn't aggression, like it had been before your conversation.

Kuroo stepped inside, rubbing his palms together, a big grin on his face.

"Good to see that you made the right choice."

Two big, rough hands had you by the middle so easily, so casually, that it startled you out of your wits. The instant reaction was to shut him down like you usually did. You pushed on his forearms with an awkward laugh.

He kept you plastered to his front after a small struggle, hand guiding your chin. Having to look up was new.

"Wooah- I know your little boyfriend just said you were into me-," His lids were low, and his grip was so strong that it made you weak in the legs, "So don't act all shy."

Kuroo was only single because he couldn't keep his attention limited to just one person. There had been countless times in the past year of dating Kenma that his girl trouble was the talk of the school; so-and-so was upset with what's-her-name because she was distracting Kuroo in class. Or, he was being too touchy with his girl-best-friend while trying to juggle two others in secret.

It was a good reminder that too much attention could spoil an otherwise great, fun-loving, guy.

In your attempt to look away towards Kenma- sweet, familiar Kenma, you finally felt his comforting presence behind you.

"Well," His hands trailed over your hips, eyes downcast at the way your ass was poorly hidden in his shirt. He hiked it up, a warm palm squeezing the fatty muscle there-- you couldn't help but slip your arms around Kuroo, hiding your warm, embarrassed face in his shirt.

"She's normally pretty shy."

You felt the bass in Kuroo's chuckle resonate through your chest, and remembered how surprised you were a year ago to hear him speak. He had a voice that always felt a little too deep.

A hand massaged through your already messy hair, grounding you.

His interested, "Oh, yeah?" made you clutch his muscular back.

Kuroo watched from over your head, fisting more of that shirt up to your mid back, as Kenma pressed his clothed hard-on between your supple flesh.

It felt exhilarating, both having somebody to hold onto and a dirty observer to all your bedroom activities. Kuroo's cock was already firm, trapped under his clothes, against your tummy. That didn't stop him from grinding into whatever he could.

The height difference would seriously take some adjustment. You and Kenma could fuck standing up-- you would need a step-stool for his bigger friend.

You gasped at his another hand gripping your ass, harder, sharper than you were used to. Kenma felt so good, even confined, grinding against your folds.

"Mn-!" Was muffled into Kuroo's t-shirt.

It should've been no surprise that he fisted a handful of your hair to make you look at him again.

You shut your eyes, resisting his hold, because you couldn't stand to look at him in this context. It was too new.

Instead of letting you go, he gripped you harder, eliciting a short, "A-ah!"

He took advantage of that, too, and tried to steal the kiss that he felt owed. But you turned your head at the last second and made it into a sloppy, unfinished cheek kiss. The remnants of which remained smeared across your warm cheek.

A defeated, audibly frustrated sigh-- he lost his grip on you, and in the process, you pushed him away.

Kenma pulled you close and out of Kuroo's arms. Onto his own chest, instead.

"The fuck?" Was a pitiful groan, and a look that you were embarrassed to receive, from Kuroo. He palmed himself freely, but stared at you like you broke some sacred pinky promise.

He ran a hand through his hair, stressed, and motioned to Kenma, "I thought you said she was into me. This- this isn't 'into' me. This is- is- like, fuckin' scared of me."

"She is into you-," His grip was soft, and nice, and though firm, it was still reassuring under your shirt.

Kenma laughed, thinking, as he kissed the side of your head. You still couldn't bring yourself to look at Kuroo, but you still found the strong desire to show off in front of him.

"Man, you're just--," He sighed, about to finish his thought.

"Just what?" Kuroo insisted, pissed off.

"You're too rough. Just... slow it... down."

Kuroo's hands rubbed down his face, brow working hard- he looked completely out of sorts, all frazzled and distressed.

An uneven tone, still worried as he tilted his head down, sideways, at you.

"O-kay, okay- yeah, I can..." He blew out a breath, "I can be... gentle."

As Kenma slowly peeled his shirt off of you- turning you around to face his best friend- revealing everything he ever wanted to see under that stupid uniform- his mind was made of stone.

He was not going to leave without touching you, tasting you. Kuroo lost a bit of feeling in his legs; he swallowed, dry, and nodded like a dumbass, over and over again.

"Yeah...Yea-h, I can slow it down for ya," He mumbled, mostly in an attempt to hype himself up. He pulled his shirt off by the back and closed the distance, with a different approach this time.

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

my masterlist. more haikyuu.

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avis-writeshq · 1 year ago

Text

01 — better than revenge

summary: “she’s not a saint, no, she’s not what you think. she’s an actress.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn warnings: fluff, angst with a happy ending, Lila is a real piece of work here, VERY CANON COMPLIANT, Spencer’s a bit of an ass :( wc: 10.4k a/n: special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading MWAH SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

“Hey kid, wheels up in thirty.” Derek nods towards you, dropping a case file on your desk.

You raise an eyebrow, flicking open the case file to the first page. A small laugh of disbelief leaves your lips. “Ooh, Los Angeles, media capital of the world. What’s the occasion?”

“Three murders, all shot in the head executional style.”

Your face falls into a grimace as you grab your go-bag and tuck the file under your arm, following the rest of the team to the jet. “Spence and Gideon are there already, right? Talk about timing.”

Elle can’t help but grin at your words, slinking an arm over your shoulder. “Looks like you’ll see loverboy a lot sooner than you think.”

A shriek of betrayal leaves your lips as you throw her arm off of you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Sure you don’t,” JJ all but cackles as she boards the plane, grinning the entire way.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you grumble, dropping your things on one of the seats in the jet. “Seriously, I mean it. I know how to get away with murder.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow at you, his gaze that of a disappointed yet amused father. “Not the brightest thing to say while you’re in a room full of FBI agents.”

Elle lets out a ‘hah!’ as she sits across from you, crossing one leg over the other as she grins. “Get comfortable, buttercup, six hour flight and you’re not going anywhere.”

“Assholes.” You roll your eyes teasingly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you turn to your case files. “And it’s not like that.”

“Oh, of course not,” Elle snickers, “you’re just friends.”

You throw a pen at her and it bounces off her leg harmlessly. “I can smell the sarcasm.”

“You’ll be smelling more of it,” Derek laughs, ruffling your hair. “Sit tight, kid, we’re in for a long flight.”

Once everyone was settled and the jet was high in the air, the team began to look through the files with Garcia on speaker as usual.

“First two victims, Wally Melman and Chloe Harris,” You recite dutifully, glancing over the grotesque crime scene images. “Seems like they were both killed in public places.”

“Chloe was killed while walking her dog on the beach in Santa Monica which she did every morning, and Wally was killed outside of a massage parlour,” JJ reiterates, sitting down with a cup of tea in her hand.

“In Culver City,” Derek adds.

“Which he went to every Tuesday,” Elle continues.

Derek looks to the rest of the team, a thoughtful look on his face. “Well, if he knows their schedules, maybe that means he follows his victims for a while.”

“And not a single witness. So we know this UnSub can blend in,” Hotch mutters. “Regardless of the location, he has the ability to hide in plain sight.”

“So, he’s meticulous.” Elle nods, her eyes drifting from Hotch to the case file.

“The media is calling Natalie Ryan’s murder the biggest celebrity homicide since Sharon Tate,” JJ adds, looking through the images of the newspaper clippings that were sent to her laptop.

“Great,” You muse, although frustration is clear in your voice. “What does that mean for us?”

Hotch lets out a sigh. “That everybody will be watching.”

***

“This guy is an assassin?” Detective Kim asks with disbelief as the rest of the team reiterates their thoughts once they were in the police department.

“When you look at the victimology, there’s no obvious links,” Morgan points out. “All the kills were clean except in the instance of the last victim, Jeremy Collins.”

You nod, tucking a strand of hair as you reference the case files. “There’s absolutely no evidence left at the crime scene. Labs have found zero DNA, no manifestation of psychosexual release, and from what we can tell there’s no detectable signature of any kind. These kills are straight forward, almost like he’s on a mission.”

“Remember, our profiles are formulated not just by what’s present at the scene but also what’s absent,” Gideon says to Detective Kim.

“From all the evidence that we’ve gathered, we believe you’re looking for a Type Four Assassin,” Elle explains.

“Type Four?”

Spencer immediately jumps in to explain, gesticulating throughout his explanation. “Type One’s are political assassins like John Wilkes Booth. Type Two’s are egocentrics looking for simple recognition.”

“Type Three’s are psychopaths,” Hotch continues, “cold-blooded killers who leave far messier scenes. Type Four, our UnSub, suffers from a major mental disorder and is frequently delusional.”

“The closer we come to figuring out that delusion, the closer we’ll get to finding the UnSub,” Reid points out.

Everyone is left to their own thoughts and you look over to Spencer, a soft grin on your face. “How was your father-son bonding time?”

Spencer gives you a pointed look, but a soft laugh leaves his lips. “It was… fine.”

“Fine? Out of everyone on the team, Gideon chose you to present a talk about behavioural analysis and profiling to the LAPD. You love conferences. C’mon, give me something!” You nudge his shoulder gently.

“We uh.. we went to an art gallery the other day. We met a movie star, so that was cool…” his cheeks are dusted with a soft pink as he talks and your curiosity only increases.

“A movie star, huh? Look at you, mingling with the high and mighty.” You poke his cheek with a laugh. “Tell me about them.”

He flushes at the contact, clearing his throat. “Um… her name is Lila Archer. Have you heard of her? She’s–”

“Reid, (L/N), we’re meeting with someone,” Derek cuts in, nodding towards the both of you.

You blink in confusion as you follow him to another room. “Suspect?”

“Someone received a note,” Derek says quickly, glancing over at the note in Elle’s hands. “On a newspaper clipping of the latest murder.”

“Lila?”

A blonde woman was sitting in the next room over, her legs crossed over as she waits. Her eyes light up in recognition and she stands up. You can’t help but be impressed as you give her a quick once over. She’s gorgeous, exactly what you expect from a famous movie star.

“I’m Agent (L/N),” You say gently, moving from your spot next to Spencer and holding your hand out. “This is Agent Morgan and I’m assuming you already know Doctor Reid. I understand that you received a note this morning?”

She wearily shakes your hand, her blue eyes flitting between you and Reid. “Yeah.”

“We just have a few questions to ask. We know that these things are sensitive, but we promise we’ll try to make the situation as easy as possible for you.” You shoot her a kind smile, excusing her weariness for fear or anxiety. “Is that alright?”

“Sure.” She respond curtly, shooting a smile towards Spencer before walking past you.

“Uh… okay?” You let out a little laugh in confusion and Derek raises an eyebrow at you.

“What was that about?” He asks, frowning.

You shrug your shoulders, watching as Spencer leads her to an empty desk. “Trust me, I have no idea. Maybe she’s just nervous and wants to talk to a familiar face.”

Derek hums in thought. “Maybe. But usually victims like this are more willing to speak to someone of the same gender. It’s strange that she was so direct to you.”

“She’s been through a traumatic experience. If I got a newspaper clipping with a message written in blood, I probably wouldn’t be too thrilled meeting new people either,” You defend, pursing your lips. “She’s probably just… scared, right?”

He doesn’t respond, moving to follow Spencer and Lila further into the police department. A few questions were asks about her relationship with the other victims, only to find that she was in fact the connection between the other victims. Wally Melman was a producer who Lila met with a few times to discuss a role, only for him to cast Natalie Ryan instead. Chloe Harris looked an awful lot like Lila, so it was likely that the UnSub got rid of her in order to ‘ice-out’ the competition.

“(L/N), may I talk to you for a moment?” Hotch asks quickly, waving you over.

You blink in confusion but nod, walking over to where he stands by the desk. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“I want you to try and get as much information from Lila as possible.” He gestures to where Lila sits in one of the victim waiting rooms. “This is your area of expertise. Try and find out if there’s any distinct information that she’s given to anyone so that we can track the UnSub.”

“Got it.” You offer a smile, fixing your shirt as you agree. “I’ll update you if I get any new information.”

You make your way over to where Lila was sitting, trying to look as friendly as possible. “Hey, Lila. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?”

She glances over you for a second, looking you up and down before shaking her head. “I’m fine. Where’s Spencer?”

Your brows furrow at his words. “Doctor Reid…? He’s currently going through the timeline of events with our colleagues. In the meantime, I was hoping to ask a few questions, maybe shed some light on the entire situation.”

She raises an eyebrow before nodding. “Okay.”

“Alright…” you clear your throat, taking a seat across from her. “You mentioned that you receive a bowl of red anemones on the seventh of every month. Do you mind… telling me why you like those flowers so much?”

She shrugs dismissively, running a hand through her blonde hair. “They’re pretty. I like the colour.”

You nod slowly, writing that down in your notes. “Well that’s understandable; they’re very beautiful flowers. But they’re a little uncommon as a favourite flower, don’t you think? If you like the colour, a more common favourite flower would be poppies or roses… are you sure there isn’t another reason? The meaning behind red anemones is forsaken love and death… does that intrigue you at all?”

She scoffs, “are you trying to accuse me of something?”

“Not at all,” you say quickly, “I apologise if it comes off that way. I’m just trying to find out as much as possible about the entire situation. For all we know, those flowers could have been sent by the UnSub.”

A short silence lulls in the room as well as an awkward tension. So, you try to take things from another angle.

“I love hydrangeas,” you say gently, a small smile on your lips. “I like the way they’re always bunched together and the colours are beautiful. Only a few people know that I like them though. My close friend and colleagues, my family… do you remember telling anyone about your favourite flower?”

She’s quiet for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know.”

Your face falls and you press a little more. “Are you sure you don’t remember? Maybe… maybe your manager, or a friend of yours?”

“I said ‘I don’t know’, okay?” She snaps, her hands balling into fists as she glares at you. “God, it’s not that hard to understand.”

You lean back in your chair, your gaze hardening. “I understand that this is difficult for you, but any information–”

“I don’t have any information!” Lila huffs, her hands placed in her lap. “Are you stupid or something?”

“The likelihood of these people being murdered because of you is incredibly high,” You say sharply, shutting your notebook. “If you’re withholding information from us it could prove detrimental to the investigation. I’m only trying to do my job. Asking you questions is part of my job.”

Her lips twitch at your words and she scowls. “I already told you I don’t remember.”

“Not remembering and not knowing are two different things, Ms Archer.” You place your card on the table. “If you remember anything, please give me a call.”

You get up from your seat, heading to the door, only to see that it was wide open with Derek and Spencer standing at the doorway. In seconds, Lila’s gaze softens and she runs out of the room, sniffling as she does. Your gaze follows her as she runs out of the police station, a look of disbelief on your features.

“What the…”

“Seriously (Y/N)?” Spencer demands, a frown on his face.

You gape at his words. “What are you–”

He cuts you off, running after Lila. Derek raises an eyebrow in their direction before turning to you.

“You okay, pretty girl?” Derek asks gently, patting your shoulder.

“Honestly? I have no idea,” You confess quietly, biting your lip. “I’ve never seen him get so…”

“Upset? Angry?” he finishes, a small laugh leaving his lips. “You and me both. Look, kid, it’s not your fault. She was clearly being dismissive of your questions and she needed a reality check.”

“It’s not like I’ve never spoken that way when interrogating someone before,” You point out, brows furrowed in frustration. “Even then, Spencer has never had an issue with it. I just– I don’t understand what’s got him so worked up.”

Derek can’t help but laugh. “You’re a profiler. Isn’t it obvious?”

You pause for a moment, thinking through their interaction. “He has a crush on her, doesn’t he? He likes her. Of course he does. Brilliant, now he’s involved.”

Derek pats you on the back sympathetically. “Come on, pretty girl. We’ve got a job to do.”

***

Despite your original hesitancy, Hotch asked you personally to go with the others, meaning that you had no right to refuse. Well, you could, but that would mean throwing Elle under the bus and she would be much more helpful at the precinct than on set. So, before you could fake being sick and bail the investigation, you, Derek, and Spencer went to check out the set of Lila’s movie, hoping to better observe her interactions with her costars and the staff.

The inside of Lila’s small trailer is hot. Incredibly hot but relatively empty. As you look around, you gather that she’s either a minimalist or just didn’t have to spend a lot time in the trailer at all. Lila sits in front of the little group, wearing a robe to cover her costume: a cyan sequinned bikini set that she looked absolutely criminal in. Her hair has been styled in a classic blowout and you wonder how much time it took to get it to look so effortless.

“I’m not stopping my life,” she says, her voice almost stern as she steps out of the trailer and back onto the set.

You purse your lips as you glance at the paper in the plastic pocket, now labelled as ‘evidence’. Apparently it was taped up to the door of her trailer. Your eyes shift to Spencer who’s gaze doesn’t leave the door that Lila just walked out of for much longer than necessary. Neither of you have spoken since yesterday’s incident.

You hum thoughtfully, as you pull out your notebook, glancing at the notes you’ve been making. “Well, I guess the only thing we can do is talk to the people on set. Maybe they saw something. I’ll see if I can find out who has access to Lila’s trailer.”

Spencer nods in your direction. “Yeah, that’s… that’s a good idea.”

One of your eyebrows quirk up. “Okay…? Why do you sound so surprised?”

He flushes under your scrutiny, clearing his throat as the three of you begin to walk out of the trailer and towards the set. “I’m not! I– I’m not surprised. You’re good at your job.”

“You didn’t seem to think that yesterday,” You respond lightly, your tone petty and passive aggressive, gaze flickering between the cameras and lights on set.

Derek coughs awkwardly before excusing himself and entering further into the set leaving you and Spencer alone outside by a vending machine. Spencer falters at your words and he runs a hand through his hair. The harsh Los Angeles sun beats down against your skin and you fiddle with the notebook in your hands. In turn, he fixes up his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbow, giving you a clear view of his forearms and large hands.

“I’m sorry,” He says softly, chewing on his bottom lip. “I didn’t– I was out of line.”

“You were,” You agree, your gaze shifting between the chilled bottled drinks in the vending machine and him. “Buy me a drink and we’ll call it even.”

A boyish grin grows on his face and he nods, pulling out his wallet. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, awesome. Iced coffee?”

“You know me so well,” you respond with an equally large smile, poking his cheek. “Thank you!”

He presses a few buttons, grabbing a Cola for himself. You can’t help but laugh, giving him a pointed look. He quickly moves to defend himself, “It’s a hot day, okay? An exception.”

“An exception,” You repeat, trying to hide your smile as you crack open the lid of your drink and take a sip. “What happened to ‘Cola has 50 grams of sugar in it. That’s the equivalent of eating two full bars of milk chocolate’?”

He pouts at your words, opening his drink and you watch as a few bubbles rise to the top of the bottle. He takes a swig of his drink, sighing in content. “Shut up.”

You laugh again once you officially enter the set, nudging Spencer with your arm teasingly. He nudges you back, rolling his eyes and poking your cheek. You retaliate by doing the same, swinging your drink as you walk.

Before you could do or say anything else, Derek taps your shoulder. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.”

Spencer’s brows furrow. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to cross reference answers,” Derek dismisses.

“Let me pull up my list,” You respond helpfully, grabbing your notebook. “Hey, Spence, do you mind canvassing the rest of the crew? See if anyone pays any special attention on Lila?”

He nods at your words, moving towards Lila, sipping on his drink. In the meantime, you turn towards Derek, a curious look on your face.

“Little Miss Madonna has been glaring at you since the moment you entered the set,” Morgan says quietly, his gaze flitting to where Lila was making coffee.

You practically snap your neck as you look up in her direction, watching as she quickly fumbles to make herself a cup of something. You turn away and you could practically feel her gaze burning against your scalp. A frown makes its way onto your face and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. You glance over to where she and Spencer were talking, blanching when you watch as she takes a swig of his Cola.

“You don’t mind, do you?” You hear her ask as she drinks and Spencer hurriedly shakes his head.

A quiet scoff leaves your lips and Derek nudges you with a look that reads ‘behave.’ You lift your hands in surrender and follow him over to where Spencer now stands by himself, Lila gone to talk to some other staff member.

“An exception, huh?” You ask Spencer, referring to his aversion to germs and sharing food. Your tone is mostly teasing despite the underlying bitterness beneath it.

“Shut up.” He mutters quietly, cheeks hot from embarrassment of being caught.

Derek snorts, clapping his shoulder before moving on.

***

The next day, you were going over the evidence that was provided by the LAPD. Considering that it was a relatively young case, there weren’t copious amounts of evidence, meaning that there were still untied strings to go through. The entire situation proved more difficult than necessary; no one seemed to notice anything amiss when it came to Lila and her relationships, and considering that the actress wasn’t very forthcoming with the information she knew, you were hitting dead-end after dead-end.

Although geographical profiling was more of Spencer’s expertise than yours, you figured it wouldn’t do anyone harm by triangulating the previous three murders. He was standing beside you, his presence not unwelcome as he guides you step by step on how to plot an understandable and accurate profile. Hotch had asked him to coach you through the entire situation and explain his point of view, as well as his thought process when it came to geographical profiling. With a comfort zone now clearly expressed, you were discussing probable suspects on the phone with Garcia.

“Will Hunter… currently the town hermit, previous criminal record of armed battery and robbery,” Garcia recites, and you pull up his file.

“Mm… maybe? No, I don’t think so. His crimes don’t match the UnSub’s profile. He seems to be messier, uh, tending to use bats and knives than a clean shot to the head. And the profile suggests that the UnSub is able to blend in with the crowd.” You hum in thought, turning to Spencer.

“Hermits like Will Hunter wouldn’t be able to do that,” He explains to Garcia, putting his file into the ‘unlikely’ folder.

Garcia sighs in frustration and you can hear her furiously type away on her computer. “How about–”

“Hold that thought,” Elle says quickly, cutting Penelope off apologetically. “(Y/N), did you know Lila’s here?”

You blink in confusion, slowly shaking your head no. “She’s here? I didn’t get any calls from her.”

Elle shrugs at your words. “She looks like she’s going to burn a hole through your head.”

Your brows furrow and your gaze shifts to the blonde woman through the office window. She has her arms folded over her chest, a scowl on her face, before her cheeks burn in embarrassment of being caught. Spencer follows your gaze, his face lighting up at the sight of the actress. It’s almost as if he has selective hearing when it comes to his celebrity crush, clearly not hearing the part where Elle points out that Lila has been glaring at you the entire time.

“Can we talk outside?” You ask Elle quickly, getting up from your seat, not taking no for an answer.

Spencer opens his mouth to say something before he shuts it, watching as you drag your other co-worker out of the room. Your attention shifts between Lila and Elle, your brows furrowing.

“What is it?” You ask, your back turned towards the actress. “Why is she here?”

“She gave me a list of people who know what her favourite flower is,” Elle says quietly.

Your ears go red at her words, your eyes practically bulging out of your head. “Excuse me?”

“She called me yesterday,” she explains, handing you the list of people. “She said that she remembers who they were and came in today to give me a list of people.”

You scoff in disbelief, throwing your hands up in the air in frustration. “I gave her my card.”

“She called and asked for me.”

You scoff again, rolling your eyes. “Oh, so suddenly she can remember everything when she talks to you, but nothing when she talks to me? She’s not very slick.”

The door behind you opens, revealing Spencer who has been listening in the entire time. His jaw is clenched and a frown is etched upon his features as he looks at you accusingly.

“Maybe she just didn’t remember,” he points out harshly as you and Elle re-enter the room.

An incredulous look makes its way into your face. “Excuse me?”

“She didn’t remember, and now she does,” Spencer says, and from the corner of your eye you watch Elle slowly leave the room once more. The door closes with a soft click.

“That doesn’t change the fact that she went to Elle and not to me,” you respond, trying to keep your voice even and your words clear. You take a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself down.

Spencer scowls at you. “Maybe she has every right to go to Elle after you snapped at her the first time you tried to talk to her.”

“Are you– are you being serious right now?” A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you glare up at him. “Look, Reid, I’m sorry that I’m not her biggest fan and that I don’t kiss the ground she walks on, but I was doing my job. A job that I believe I am quite good at. It’s not like speaking harshly is unheard of when it comes to the retrieval of information.”

He flinches when you call him by his last name but he stands his ground. “If you were so good at your job, you wouldn’t have to speak to her that way,” he argues, and you can see the vein in his forehead begin to protrude.

His words sting and bite you and suddenly you feel your resolve snapping. “You know what?” The words are slow and deliberate as they leave your lips, and you jab a finger against his chest. “I get that you have a crush on her and that you’re finally going through puberty but that does not mean that you can ignore the job you are currently on.”

He swallows thickly and he opens his mouth to retaliate but you push your finger against his chest once more.

“I am not finished.” Your voice is low with frustration and annoyance as you scowl, glaring up at him. “I don’t care who you’re attracted to or who you want to sleep with. I don’t give a damn if that someone is victim in the investigation because it’s not my problem. I do, however, have a problem when you undermine my ability to do my job and do nothing to fix it.

The worst part is the fact that you’re my friend. You’re supposed to be supportive and helpful and– and– and understanding.” Your mouth is moving quicker than your brain can register and you’re stumbling over your words as you snap at him. “I’m supposed to be able to go to you if I’m going through something. I should be able to talk to you if someone or something is bothering me, but now I’m just afraid that you’ll call me crazy and then criticise me all over again.”

His face falls and he looks at you like a kicked puppy as the words slowly sink in. He reaches out to you, his hazel eyes searching your face but the only emotion that you’re showing is anger. You push his hand away, the frown set on your eyebrows. It’s only then when you realise that Garcia has been listening into the conversation the entire time, your heart lurching to a stop when you hear her cough on the other side of the line.

“Um… is now a bad time to say that I didn’t get any other hits for the profile?” She asks tentatively through the speaker, and you feel your face burning.

“I need air,” you announce to no one in particular, before grabbing your files and storming out of the room.

Elle catches your arm on the way out, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. “(Y/N)-“

“Hey. Sorry.” You bite your lip, loosening the grip you have on your papers. “Where’s Hotch?”

“With Derek and Gideon,” she says gently. “Lila got another note and we’re going to check on her manager. Do you want to come with?”

You exhale before nodding. “Yeah. That’d be good.”

“Okay.” She squeezes your arm gently, her eyes flitting between you and Spencer who was inside the conference room, pacing back and forth. “Is… everything alright?”

“Honestly? No.” You offer her a wry smile, shoving your files into your bag. “But it’s fine.”

She chuckles a little in disbelief, leading you to the black SUVs outside. Derek and Gideon were already there, waiting patiently for the two of you while Hotch has already left in another SUV. Apparently the ‘no profiling each other’ rule was thrown out the window as soon as they saw the state you were in, and Derek quickly makes his way over to you.

“(Y/N), are you–”

“I’m fine,” you snap, before closing your eyes tightly and letting out a deep breath. “Sorry, Morgan. I’m okay, just had an argument with Reid.”

At that, his eyebrows shoot upwards. “Since when did you call him ‘Reid’? And what do you mean you had a fight with him? He literally can’t say no to you.”

“Yeah, that was before a Miss Archer walked into the room,” you mutter bitterly. “Shot a literal arrow through his heart. She put her name to good use. I never stood a chance.”

“Hey now, don’t say that,” Elle says, climbing into the SUV. You follow closely behind and she continues. “He’s just confused right now.”

You can’t help but scoff. “I really doubt that.”

Gideon starts the car, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “You’re a profiler. What do you really think?”

The words die at your tongue and you deflate into the seat of the car. You hate to admit it, but Gideon is right. You should be able to figure out exactly what Spencer is thinking. After all, he’s your best friend– you shouldn’t have to be worrying about guessing games when it comes to him.

Hotch is the first to arrive at the manager’s office, watching as your group pull up in front of the building. Once everyone clambours out of the car, they enter the building, a sigh of relief leaving them as they enjoy the air conditioned lobby. With a flash of a badge, the receptionist is quick to tell you which floor and room number Michael was in.

“Floor 11, Room 03,” you mumble to yourself as you scribble it down in your notes.

The elevator ride is silent and you rock back and forth on your feet as the lift begins to rise. Your head is spinning with thoughts and regrets as you consider the harsh words that you spat at Spencer’s face less than an hour ago. You must not have been hiding your frustration well because Hotch finally says something.

“Is everything alright?” He asks, much like a father would when their child is having a tantrum. It’s fitting.

You shrug. “I will be.”

“Is it to do with Reid?”

You cough awkwardly, glancing back at the notes in your hand. “That obvious?”

Derek snorts from behind you. “Yeah, a little.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with him,” Elle adds, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“I am– I am not in love with him!” You all but shriek, shooting her a half hearted glare and you stutter out a response. “I mean, I– uh– I like him but–“

“You are a horrible liar,” Derek cackles and you groan.

Hotch and Gideon watch amused at the interaction, and the latter finally pipes in.

“Profiling isn’t something you can just turn off,” he explains to you, his tone gentle. He reminds you of a grandfather giving advice to their youngest grandchild, and a small smile makes its way onto your face. He continues to speak, “it’s subconscious and it becomes a habit. The only time it stops is when you either need it most, or when you don’t want to see anything.”

The elevator comes to a stop on the eleventh floor and Michael’s office wasn’t far away. The writing on the frosted glass reads ‘1103, Michael Ryer & associates, talent management’ and Elle raps on the door.

“Hello?”

“Mr Ryer?” Gideon calls.

She knocks a few times again before opening the door entirely. “Michael–”

You’re met with Michael Ryer, dead in his arm chair and shot to the head, just like all the other victims. Despite having faced these circumstances before, you still feel sick to the stomach as you stare at Michael’s lifeless body and soulless eyes. It’s unnerving.

“Up until now every victim was a person who could be perceived as a threat to Miss Archer,” Hotch comments as they enter the room, pulling out his phone.

“Yeah, but Michael was a friend,” Elle says with a frown.

You look up from your notes. “He was a threat to the stalker.”

In less than twenty minutes, the LAPD dispatched forensics and evidence teams to the office. Lila and Spencer were on their way back to her house, deciding that it was best to deny the stalker access to her. You rifle through Michael’s belongings: his schedules, his files… everything until you come to one particular manila envelope.

“Morgan, Elle, look at this,” you murmur, pulling the photos out of the envelope. “Pictures of Lila… nude.”

A flash of a grimace passes along Elle’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears. “He was probably paying someone to keep them out of the press.”

“The name on the file says Joe Martinez,” Derek mutters, turning the envelope over.

The name must have struck a chord, because Detective Kim’s head immediately snaps around to look at you. “Paparazzo?”

You blink. “You know this guy?”

“Yeah, I deal with him a lot,” Kim responds, his face stoic.

“We should follow that lead,” You comment, tucking the photos back in the envelope and looking over at Detective Kim and Derek. “I’m ready to go when you are?”

After an okay from Hotch, you, Derek, and Detective Kim make your way over to the Joe Martinez’s place. After knocking on the door to his place multiple times, Derek decides to open it in the way he knows best: by kicking it down. You grip your gun, holding it out in front of you as you travel through the hallways.

“Clear!” You yell out upon pushing another door open, seeing nobody inside.

“(Y/N), you need to check this out,” comes Morgan’s call, and you follow the direction of his voice

Pinned above a small desk are picture upon pictures of Lila Archer. When she has lunch, when she’s out with her friends… it’s almost as if this person has completely documented her life. It’s a little nerve wracking, knowing that someone could follow you and take photos without anyone even realising.

“Hey is that–” you pause, pulling a piece of paper off the wall. “This is Lila’s schedule.”

Derek blinks in surprise. “I’m guessing he’s not supposed to have that?”

“No,” Detective Kim responds, and your gaze shifts to the table.

“Hey, isn’t that–” you feel your heart practically stop as you see who’s in the photos.

“That’s Reid,” Derek mutters.

Kim shifts through the photos. “There’s a whole bunch of them,” he says, pulling out at least five or six print outs. “Is he a target now?”

Derek scoffs, throwing the photos on the table and pulling out his phone, making a beeline for the exit. “Not if I can help it.”

You and Detective Kim follow him out, making your way to the SUV.

“Reid? Hey, it’s Morgan. Listen, you gotta watch your back over there, we just found a bunch of close-up photos of you at this guy Joseph Martinez’s studio. It looks like he could be the UnSub.”

As he speaks you feel your heart pound in your ears. Your head is dizzy with fear and you’re following after Morgan who’s walking unbelievably quickly.

“He has a ton of photos of Lila and Nathalie plus a call sheet for Lila’s show,” Derek continues, the speed of his walk not wavering. “(Y/N) and I are on our way right now but I need you to be real careful until we get there, all right?”

You look down to shove your notes back into your bag when you hear it. The distinct vrooming of a motorcycle engine. You don’t think too much of it, only turning your head to look over your shoulder, your hand finding the handle of the car door. That’s all it takes for the motorcyclist to drive straight toward you and the others, pointing an arm out.

“Gun!” You manage to scream, just before the UnSub open fires, hitting Detective Kim.

You dive behind the car, grimacing when your knee collided roughly against the pavement. By the time you manage to recover and grab your gun out of its holster, the UnSub is long gone. You stare as Morgan fires a couple shots before watching the motorcyclist ride off into the LA traffic, and you turn to Detective Kim.

“You got hit. Where?” You ask, shoving your gun back into its holster.

He grunts in pain, his entire weight on the car as he groans out, “yeah, it’s fine. Just my shoulder.”

“Derek, call for help,” you order, pressing firmly at the wound with your hand to lessen the bleeding. He lets out a cry of pain and you wince. “Sorry, it’s bleeding a lot. Gunshot wound to the shoulder, no exit wound. Seeing as you’re not already dead, I don’t think it hit any major arteries, but it might have busted your collarbone. You’re lucky if that’s the extent of the damage. The shoulder contains a bunch of important and major bloodlines, as well as nerve endings.”

Derek turns to you with a wry smile. “You’re starting to sound like Reid.”

“You spend four years with him, you’ll start to learn a few things,” you respond with a humourless laugh. You continue to press against Detective Kim’s wound, murmuring an apology.

“You should talk to him,” Derek prompts.

You scoff, “we have a detective bleeding in front of us and the thing you’re worried about is my love life?”

“Isn’t the first rule of relieving pain through distraction?” He asks. You shoot him an unimpressed look and he quickly nods his head. “Okay, sorry.”

Ten minutes later, Detective Kim is hoisted into the ambulance. You cringe as you wash his blood off your hands, once, twice, then a third time to make sure everything is gone. Your shirt has a couple of blood spots and you can’t help but frown; you liked that shirt. At least the stain isn’t too big– just a few splotches here and there.

“It’s a good thing you held the wound,” an EMT praises, working quickly to secure Kim’s shoulder. “He shattered his collarbone, but you seemed to have managed to control the bleeding.”

If it weren’t for the circumstances, you would have shouted a clear ‘I told you so’ to both Derek and Detective Kim, but you keep your mouth shut.

Hotch, Gideon, and Elle arrive moments later, speaking to Derek about the detective’s injuries.

“You okay?” Elle asks gently, squeezing your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you murmur, wringing your hands together. “Just a little jumpy. I’ll be fine.”

“We need to get to her house,” Gideon mutters, glancing at the group.

Without another moment to lose, you’re clambering into an SUV, gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white. Elle climbs into the passenger seat beside you, her brows knitted together in concern. She opens her mouth to say something but shuts it, watching as you start the car and speed off into the direction of Lila’s house.

After slamming the door shut and gripping the gun firmly in the palm of your hand, you follow Derek through the back entry of the house. You weren’t even sure if it could even be counted as a ‘house’; the place looked like it had at least five bedrooms on both floors. Derek glances at you, signalling to be quiet, then another to keep your eyes on him. A quiet splashing in the pool alerts your attention, and despite his attempts of getting you to not look, you do. And as soon as you do, you really wish you hadn’t.

You are met with the sight of Lila Archer in her bikini-clad glory, in the pool with Doctor Spencer Walter Reid. Doctor ‘pools are incredibly unhygienic, harbouring more than 50 million different types of bacteria’ Reid. And as if it couldn’t get any worse, you watch as their lips touch again and again, his hands cupping her face and her hands arms around his neck.

Spencer pulls away from the kiss, his breath heavy and his head spinning. This is wrong. He’s not supposed to being do this. His brain is short circuiting and it’s even worse when he considers all the germs that could be in this pool. His head spins with the names of viruses and bacteria that could be festering in the waters he was currently in, and then he remembers he has more pressing matters to attend to. Namely the girl who was literally pressing her lips to his.

He pulls away, stammering over responses. “We can’t– we shouldn’t. I’m a federal agent and you’re–”

Lila stares at him, amused, with her hands cupping his neck. “There’s no one here.”

“I’m supposed to be protecting you,” Spencer tries again, anxiety gnawing at his stomach. This is wrong. Unprofessional. Then his mind wanders to you and the nagging voice in the back of his mind urges him to do something.

“There are police out front,” Lila says, kissing him again before continuing, “there are coyotes out back.”

“This is completely inappropriate,” Spencer stutters out, his hands reaching for her shoulders. Her skin is cold from the summer night’s breeze, even more so considering how they’re submerged in disgusting chlorine-filled pool water.

“This?” She presses her lips to his once more. “What’s this?”

“This isn’t–” he swallows thickly, his cheeks flared. “No, there’s this thing called transference–”

Lila pulls away, her stare drifting from his eyes to his lips as she asks, “you don’t like me?”

Spencer blanches at the question. “What?”

“You don’t like me,” Lila repeats, more sure of herself now. “It’s because of her, right?”

He frowns at the insinuation. “‘Her’? Who’s ‘her’?”

“The other person on your team,” Lila says, her words bitter. “You like her don’t you?”

His mouth goes dry and he opens and closes it like a fish out of water. “What?”

“Let me change your mind,” she whispers, bringing her lips to his for the nth time.

Spencer barely has time to react, his hands moving to the side of her face and he imagines that she’s you. But she’s not you and you would never kiss him in the middle of the pool. You would never pull him in by his tie and cut him off when he’s speaking. He pulls away.

“Stop. Stop, Lila, I’m sorry, I have to– I have to tell you something.” His mind is blanking. Why is it that when he needs it, his brain shuts off?

“What?” Lila asks, her lips moving to his cheek and then to his jaw.

“I didn’t want to tell you this before because I was a bit worried.” He’s screaming at himself in his head, kicking himself because ‘why the hell did he just say that?!’ Regardless of the way he wishes he could shut his mouth and run out of the pool, he continues, “I don’t know how to say it but I can’t not tell you.”

“What is it?” She finally pulls away and Spencer lets out a breath of relief.

The relief is short lived because he starts to blab, “Your manager, Michael–”

“What?”

“Gideon went to check on him but he got there too late.” Spencer thinks he’s going to hurl, his mind running a million times an hour and screaming, ‘No you idiot! No, no, no! Out of all the things you could say–’

Lila scrambles out of the pool, clearly distraught, and he reaches out to touch her arm… only to be swatted away with her sobbing and telling him not to touch her. He figures he deserves that and follows out of the pool after her.

“How could you– how could you not tell me?” Lila demands, her tears mixing with the pool water already on her face.

“I was afraid you’d be upset,” Spencer says lamely, water dripping from his trousers and he just wants a towel.

“You– you knew what you knew and… how could you not…?” She’s on the verge of hyperventilating and she looks at him before looking away.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says quietly, not knowing what else to say.

Lila retreats into her house, shutting the glass sliding door behind her and Spencer can only watch as she throws a pillow at the wall before going up the stairs to her room. He stands there, in the cold, dripping wet from the pool water and he wipes his face with his hand. His gun sits on the table, damp, and he has the urge to scream. Before he could do something exceedingly stupid, the sound of footsteps alert him and he spins around.

“Elle?”

“We found him in the bushes,” she says to Spencer, nodding to the guy being cuffed by Derek.

“I told her she should cut those.” He says dismissively, wiping his gun with a towel. He looks at her and then at you. He swallows thickly, noticing the way your eyes look him up and down, the disapproval oozing in your stare. “I– uh– I fell in.”

“Yeah,” you respond, holding the camera up and a sarcastic smile blossoms on your face. “I’m sure there are plenty of photos of it.”

He sighs, “(Y/N)–”

“Hey, stop shoving me, man!” Joe snaps as Derek pushes him to walk forward.

“You’re a suspect in the murder of Wally Melman, Natalie Ryan, and Jeremy Collins.”

You watch as Joe’s face comically contorts from annoyance to confusion as he jumps to defend himself. “Murder? What? Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”

“Just shut up with the ‘whoa’. We know for a fact that you have hundreds of photographs of Lila Archer and Natalie Ryan on the walls of your studio. You have Miss Archer’s daily schedule on your desk. You’ve been stalking her.”

“Look, guy, hold up. Every paparazzi’s a celebrity stalker,” Joe says and the rest of the group turn to look at him incredulously. He continues to speak undeterred. “If you don’t stalk them, you don’t get the shot, and if you don’t get the shot, you don’t sell no pictures.”

“Yeah, well this one’s gonna cost you,” you hum, holding the camera in your hands and ripping the film out despite his yells of defiance.

Derek steps forward, pushing Joe to keep him walking. “Tell it to your lawyer.”

“Wh– I’m still being locked up?”

“That’s right, at the very least you’re trespassing.”

Elle and Derek walk Joe out of the premises, and you push the pulverised film against Spencer’s chest. He grips it in his hands, a soft ‘oof’ leaving his lips at the contact.

“You’re welcome,” you mutter, albeit a little bitterly, as you turn to follow the rest of your team out.

��(Y/N), listen, it didn’t mean anything,” he says softly, squeezing the film in his fist tightly while the other hand reaches out to you.

You roll your eyes, opening up the sliding door. “I told you, Reid, I don’t care who you sleep with.”

He splutters a little, pushing his hair away from his face. “We didn’t– I didn’t– we didn’t sleep together, you know that.”

“Even more reason why I shouldn’t care.”

His hand grips onto your shoulder, turning you around so that you’re facing him. “But you do. ‘Shouldn’t’? You care. You clearly obviously care, (Y/N).”

“I don’t,” you deny, pushing his hand away. “Reid–”

“Stop calling me that.”

“–it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m leaving.”

He grabs onto your arm, stopping your retreat. “Why are you being like this?”

“I am not ‘being like’ anything!”

“(Y/N).”

“Doctor, this is highly unprofessional.”

He has to stop the frustrated groan that was moments away from leaving his lips as he stares at you. His eyes ghost over your frame, stopping directly at the dark red splotches on your shirt.

“What happened?” He demands, taking a step closer. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“Who’s blood is that?”

“Detective Kim’s.”

“What– were you shot at?”

His hands fly to your face, trembling and cold, and you would have thought it was romantic if he didn’t do the exact same thing less than twenty minutes ago with another girl.

“It doesn’t matter,” you dismiss quietly.

“Don’t say that.”

“God, you act as if we’re dating or something!” You snap, pulling away from him.

He stops short, his cheeks and ears reddening at your words. His mind goes blank and suddenly he feels very warm at the idea. Dating you? Every moment he had with Lila in that pool is nothing compared to the idea of dating you.

He watches as you roll your eyes before tugging your arm out of his grip. He wants to cry out again, to say something, but his head just seems to repeat the words ‘we’re dating’ over and over again.

“Just forget it, Reid.” You look to the house and your gaze grows steely once more. “Your girlfriend is calling.”

***

“I want to try and talk to some of Lila’s close friends,” you say to the others after getting off the phone with Garcia. “According to Penelope, there’s a girl named Maggie Lowe on the list that Lila gave us and they’ve known each other since college. Apparently, they spent a lot of time together and Lila helped her get a job.”

“I’ll go with you,” Elle says instantly, climbing into the car. “Why Maggie?”

You start the ignition, backing out of the driveway and onto the main road, following the GPS directions. “They spend almost all of their time together. I mean, she must have noticed something off, you know?”

Elle nods slowly in understanding. “She knows about the red anemones, right?”

“Yeah. And she was the one who found the note taped to the door.” You pause, thinking through the evidence again. “Her apartment is right in the middle of the comfort zone.”

“You think she could be the UnSub?”

“It all seems too convenient. But then again, we didn’t profile the stalker as a woman. There have got to be some inaccuracies or things we overlooked because of the gender,” you murmur, stopping at a red light. “Call Garcia for me.”

The phone rings once before Penelope’s unmistakable voice chimes through. “Speak my pretties, and you shall be heard!”

“Hey, Pen, can you check what vehicle is registered under Maggie Lowe’s name?” You ask into the speaker, parking in front of the apartment.

“Checking, checking… aha! It’s a Honda Motorcycle, she just got it serviced six and a half months ago.”

“That’s the vehicle that the UnSub was driving when they shot at us,” you mumble in realisation. “Call the others, the UnSub might be Maggie Lowe. We’re checking the apartment now.”

“Gideon and Derek are at the art gallery to talk to Parker Dunley,” Elle points out. “I’ll let them know we’re at her apartment.”

There’s a typing on the other side of the line and Penelope chimes in once more. “Bad news, my loves. The cameras report Lowe’s motorcycle leaving the apartment complex half an hour ago.”

“Garcia, call Reid and tell him what we know. Elle and I are going into the apartment. We might find evidence or clues on who the next victim might be.”

With that, you hang up, getting out of the car and running up the stairs with Elle hot on your heels.

“Maggie Lowe?” You call through the door, knocking once then twice.

You’re met with silence and you grimace, deciding to do Derek’s favourite move: kicking the door down. With a crash, the door slams open and you grip your gun a little tighter in your hand. Bathroom, clear. Kitchen and pantry, clear. Lounge, clear. Bedroom, clear– you stop short. Pictures– framed pictures– of Lila hung around the wall. A cork board with newspaper clipping and magazine cut outs were pinned meticulously to the cork backing, each one with Lila’s face and name circled with bold red marker.

“Holy shit…” Elle whispers, holstering her gun and staring at the wall. “This is… this is beyond obsession.”

“You’re telling me,” you respond, putting on a blue glove and flipping through the cork board. “Call the others, Maggie is definitely the UnSub. Someone this obsessed must have…” you pause, filing through the desk on the other side of the room, “… a diary. Each murder was described to detail in each entry, as well as her feelings towards Lila.”

Elle grimaces as she looks over your shoulder to read the diary entries. “Grim.”

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Above her desk are images of Lila. Every single show she’s been in since Julliard, every time she was mentioned in an article, posters, newspaper clippings of the murders… the entire ordeal makes you feel sick.

Elle sucks in a breath, staring at the desk. “She’s got Lila’s entire life documented.”

“And she’s probably already at Lila’s house,” you mutter, grabbing your phone. “We need to get over there, now.”

***

“The city of angels everything you thought it would be?” Derek asks amusedly, leaning against the wall of the jet as he watches you pour your third cup of coffee in the past three hours.

It’s a couple days after Maggie Lowe was apprehended and the team were on the jet home getting some much needed rest. The aircon was put on full blast and you couldn’t be more grateful for it, enjoying the coolness on your skin in contrast to the hot Los Angeles weather.

“I’m never coming back here,” you quip, your gaze shifting to where Spencer sits. He’s reading a book but he hasn’t turned a page for the past thirty seconds. “If I were to overthrow America, Los Angeles is the first place to go.”

Derek snorts, his eyebrows raising. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you huff, finally looking at him. “I’m serious!”

“Sure kid. Totally believe you.”

He’s teasing, a knowing smirk on his face as he watches you chug the coffee with a grimace. Your tongue burns and you fill the cup with water and chug that as well, ignoring the amused look Derek keeps sending you. From the corner of your eye you see Spencer reading his book. At least, it would appear that he was reading to someone who didn’t know him. But you know him. He’s been staring into the pages for the past minute now and that alone was enough to let you know that he was paying more attention to your and Derek’s conversation than to the words on the page.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you sit beside Elle who is already fast asleep. You envy her for a moment as she leans against the plane window, blissfully unaware to your mental torment. Stupid Spencer and his stupidly pretty face. From where you’re sitting you can see the back of his head and you glare at that the ridiculous mop of brown on his head.

The rest of the plane ride is uneventful and by the time you make it back to the office it’s already late. It’s nearing one in the morning and everyone begins to head home. Derek is yawning as he leaves the office and Elle has a look that screams ‘Don’t talk to me’. Gideon is long gone and Hotch was in his office, packing up the last of his papers and files.

Spencer is sitting at his desk, combing through the paperwork and stashing a couple pages into his satchel. He bids farewell to Derek and the others before shoving his train pass into his pocket.

“You’re taking the train?” You ask, finally speaking to him.

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he shifts on his feet, gripping the strap of his bag. “Um, yeah. I took the train here, so...”

“Oh.” You nod, glancing at the clock. “No you’re not.”

He huffs out a laugh. “What?”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you get onto a train at one in the morning,” you say, pointing with your chin to the elevator. “You might be a man and all, but it doesn’t change the statistics.”

You know his weakness. Statistics. Facts. Spencer hates the fact that you know him so well.

He relents, getting into the elevator with you. “I thought you were mad at me.”

He hears you scoff, pressing B1 on the elevator. “Just because I’m mad at you, doesn’t mean that I’m going to let you do something potentially dangerous.”

He hates the way your words makes his heart flutter and he continues speak. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you did,” you respond curtly, watching as the elevator doors open. “Come on, my car is that way.”

Spencer flinches at your tone. “I’m sorry.”

You laugh. “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for.”

“I–” the words die on his tongue as he wracks his brain. “I thought it was because you didn’t like Lila.”

“That’s true,” you murmur, unlocking the car. “Look, Reid–”

“Please,” he cuts you off, his voice cracking as he practically begs. “Please stop calling me that.”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to him as you tug the car door open. “You want me to stop calling you by your name?”

Spencer’s nostrils flare as he gets in the car. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

You laugh again as you start the engine, glancing at the mirrors. “Everyone calls you Reid. It shouldn’t be any different for me.”

He huffs. “But it is different. You’re… different.”

“How?” You challenge, backing out of the parking spot and getting onto the main road. You’ve memorised the route from Quantico to Spencer’s apartment in DC– an almost one hour drive and you understand why Spencer hates driving to and from work.

He falters before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just please don’t call me by my last name again.”

“Spencer,” You try again, missing the visible relief in his eyes, “I’m not mad at you because of something as miniscule as a girl. You’re entitled to your own relationships outside of work.”

“I don’t under– oh.” The realisation dawns on him when he recalls all the words you threw at him at the precinct. “I wasn’t a very good friend, was I?”

“No, Spencer, you weren’t.” You don’t hesitate to say it and Spencer winces at how quickly you agree with him. “You were unfair and let your emotions get in the way of the case. You criticised me and undermined my authority and then you had the absolute nerve to act as if nothing was wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” he croaks out, the lump in his throat getting bigger.

“It hurt, Spencer,” you say, and your voice cracks as well. “It hurt because you’re my best friend and I would have supported you through everything. You know that. And I get that friends fight, but I thought that we wouldn’t fight about something as stupid as who you hook up with.”

“I didn’t hook up with her,” Spencer says quietly, and he thinks he might cry. “I’m serious, (Y/N), I didn’t hook up with her. She kissed me–”

“It doesn’t matter.” Your gaze shifts to him for barely a second before it’s back on the road. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter who you’re attracted to. I just didn’t think it would effect our friendship.”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says again, holding onto his bag.

You’re quiet before continuing, “ I know you are. I know that. I’m sorry that you thought that you needed to justify your feelings to me.”

He swallows thickly, watching your face carefully. You didn’t do anything to make him feel like he had to justify himself. If anything, it was Spencer’s conscious that made him feel the need to explain himself. The guilt that he felt after kissing Lila was enough to get him to feel sick. The guilt that he felt after knowing how badly he hurt you was enough to make him want to grovel at your feet.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” He mumbles, wetting his bottom lip. “You had– have– every right to be upset.”

“I don’t want to be upset anymore,” You say as you continue to drive down the freeway.

He’s quiet before he finally says, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

He swallows the lump in his throat and he presses the pads of his fingers into the corner of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

You finally park in front of his apartment, leaning against the chair. “I know. I know, I’m sorry too. I said… a lot of things.”

“I deserved it,” he says, a small laugh leaving his lips as he finally looks at you. “You’re right, I wasn’t being fair.”

You hum, leaning over the console to give him an awkward hug. He presses his nose into your shoulder, breathing in your vanilla perfume. His arms wrap around your middle and he realises how much he missed this. How he missed being close to you.

“I won’t do it again,” he promises.

“I know.”

“I really am sorry.”

“You need to stop apologising.” Your words come out like a laugh and he realises how much he misses that sound too.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says into your shoulder. “Coffees for a month. I’ll even get you those croissants you like, even though they’re really overpriced.”

You laugh again and he smiles.

“You apologising is already good enough,” You say, squeezing his arms. “Now go get some rest, Spence.”

His smile widens at the nickname and he finally pulls away. “Good night. Thank you for driving me home.”

You smile back. “Good night. Don’t mention it.”

The next morning, you find a steaming coffee on your desk and a freshly baked croissant in a brown paper bag. Spencer waves at you and you can’t help the goofy grin on your face as you take a bite into the croissant.

next part →

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temiizpalace · 5 months ago

Text

☆┊YOU DREAM OF ME??

SUMMARY: entering the dream world was such a strange feat.. especially seeing yourself in somebody else’s dream.

CHARACTERS: jade leech-centric

GENRE: fluff, crackfic

WARNINGS: you act cringe because jade leech is a cringy guy with wattpad fantasies + BOOK 7 SPOILERS + canon divergence (some dialogue is not exact cause i lowkey forgot, some moments didn’t actually happen, and i shortened it a lil so i don’t have to write too much)

NOTES: while writing this, it turns out someone else had a similar idea so i was hesitant to upload the writing. however, I’ve decided to anyways. that being said, crediting said individual is still in order since they had the idea first.

please check out @.paralleljoys post here (IF ANY ISSUES PLEASE SEND ME AN ASK, TY!)

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

🐬∘˙

you didn’t expect this. nobody expected this, actually.

jade leech, cunning, observant, quiet, and mysterious. he was one to keep his cards close to his chest and play it safely to ensure the best outcomes. and yet, here we are, in said eels dreams. a look inside of his thoughts, how he truly saw people, how he—

“jade you’re so cool! i love love love love loveeee the way your mind works sooooo much!” a voice, sounding similarly to yours, chimed. “fufu, you flatter me, my pearl..”

your jaw dropped, grims jaw dropped, you can hear idia falling out of his seat from behind the screen, jamil’s eyes had never been opened wider, floyd cringed, silver looked away, ortho could barely compute, and sebek had the most genuine disgust written on his face.

was that you? you thought azul and floyd looked stupid, BUT THAT WAS YOU? jamil slapped a hand over grims mouth, preventing the direbeast from cackling his lungs out at the sight of your pathetic image. “MYAHAHA, HENCHMAN YOU LOOK SO STUPI—“ “keep quiet.” jamil mutters, slightly smirking. you could tell he was also containing his laughter, making your face change in hue.

“eww, no way. i knew jade was all lovey dovey with the prefect but i dont wanna watch it. what a sap.” floyd groans, looking at dream you, real you, then at jade. “i dont wanna watch this either! if you guys are embarrassed how do you think i feel?!” you murmur, hiding your face in shame.

“my pearl, open wide.” jade grins, holding a piece of shrimp in his hands. “oh my, jade you sweetheart!” you giggle, opening your mouth so jade can feed you. idia snickers, holding back a laugh. you can practically see his smug expression in your mind. “he has the fantasies of a trashy middle school fanfiction, what comedy gold.”

silver clears his throat, trying to regain the attention of the group in order to free jade from his dream. while everyone with a logical mind held an equally logical discussion, you, floyd, and grim were too focused on the scene before you. “jade, you and shrimpy should just get married.” dream floyd grins, pushing you two together.

“agreed. you both are a match made in heaven!” dream azul says in between sobs, wiping his tears away with one of his tentacles. “why, what a splendid idea! azul, please make arrangements right away. we shall wed at once, my dear.” jade chuckles, holding you close in his arms. “j-jade!? i don’t know what to say..”

“do you not wish to marry me?” he asks, his thumb tracing your chin. his voice was low, yet soothing at the same time. “it’s not like i don’t want to..” dream you mumbles, avoiding his eyes by looking at the ground with a pout. REAL you, on the other hand, can’t bear the sight of it anymore. neither can floyd. or grim.

“let’s continue to overcome hardships and conquer many mountains together.” jade laughs, pulling you all in by the shoulders. as the dream variants of jades loved ones cheer, floyd swims in and swoops down, attacking his brother and his dumbed down dream him.

“I CANNOT STAND IT ANYMORE!” floyd grunts, scowling at his dear brother, who held an expression of shock. “f-floyd? there’s two of you..?!” he stutters, looking at his dream twin and his actual twin. “they’re mirror images of each other! how can you tell them apart!” azul exclaims, wiping his eyes to get a better look.

“who is this? can i hug you and eat you? hehe.”

“i originally thought you weren’t interested in other people, but you have a limited memory. “i dont eat dance and eat shrimps stuck in between rocks.” floyd scoffs, staring at his dumbfounded doppelgänger. “floyd.. doesn’t eat shrimps.. or dance..?” jade ponders, feeling his mind begin to waver.

“jade! im scared!” dream you screams, curling up in the boys arms. your eyebrow twitches, tired of the humiliation you witnessed thanks to jades horrible imagination. following your impulse, you run out with floyd, despite the shouts of your name.

“PREFECT! GET BACK HERE! WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU TRYING TO ACHIEVE?!” sebek shouts, but his voice falls on deaf ears. he made a point though, what were you doing? it’d be much safer to just stay back and watch this play out, so why the hell are you trying to get involved?! “p-pearl?!” jade gasps, eyes wide in disbelief.

“th-there’s also two of you.? what in the seven is going on here?” he swam back slowly, unraveling the scene before him. two brothers, two lovers (well not officially..), and a whole school of students that seem familiar, but unsure as to where.. you could tell jade was beginning to wake up! it’s only a matter of time..

“jade, don’t be fooled. floyd shouldn’t be that ugly bastard, he should be more innocent and cute. and look at [MC], they love you so much they don’t know what to do with themselves! don’t be tricked by that fraud.” azul sneers, pointing at you and floyd, much to your dismay. just taking a glance at floyd was enough to be able to tell he was this close to breaking every bone in dream azul’s body and frankly you don’t blame him.

“i see.. floyd has been very charming to his relatives and my pearl wouldn’t leave my side so quickly,” jade hesitates, glancing at his two brothers. “i should go. they all really need me.” he smiled politely, swimming towards what once looked like his loved ones, now forming into large piles of dark goo. as jade was nearly consumed by the darkness, floyd swims past quickly. you stood on the eels back, landing a hit on dumb dumb floyd, crybaby azul, and cringe wattpad you.

“I DO NOT SOUND LIKE THAT.” you finally yell, catching nearly everyone’s attention. “it’s no use. we have to help out.” jamil sighs, lifting his magic pen. “let’s go!” silver shouts, rushing into the spot where you and floyd had already began your attack. as the fight rages on, the others serving as a distraction for jade, floyd had continued to land hits on the watered down versions of yourselves with ease before they finally shouted for help.

“it hurts! help us, jade!” dream floyd cries. “rescue us, jade!” azul cries. “oww! protect us, jade!” dream you screams, finally catching his attention. “how dare you! you fake. get behind me, i got this.” jade hisses, attacking floyd directly. you felt your balance falter on floyd’s back, slipping before falling near the vents. “prefect!” ortho shouts, rushing over to catch you til you fell into jamil’s arms safely. “it’s not safe, the vents are crumbling due to the fighting. retreat for now!” he directs, running towards a safer location.

“your carelessness nearly got you killed, prefect.” jamil sighs, looking down at you with a concerned yet tired expression. “sorry, i just couldn’t take it anymore!” you groan, crossing your arms angrily. “you can set me down now, jamil.” you pat his arm, breaking him from his daze. “..right.” he mutters, placing you down gently. they began to discuss different ways to wake up jade, before sebek finally settled on just electrocuting them.

“be careful, sebek.” silver reminds him, patting his shoulder before the boy ran out. “pierce the cloudy sky, lightning! living bolt!”

the tweels stop their fighting, electricity trickling all over their body leaving them temporarily paralyzed and passed out. after a few moments, their eyes fluttered open, being met with millions of other stares. “jade!” azul shouts, pushing floyd at the way with a grunt. “thank goodness you’re alive! i could’ve lost my cute subordinate!” he sniffles, causing jades eyebrow to raise. “..cute subordinate?”

“i’ll cry if jade is gone! don’t go anywhere!” dream floyd sighs with a dopey expression. “jade you idiot! you could’ve gotten seriously hurt and id never forgive you!” dream you sobs, rushing over to hold his hand hastily. “hm. that’s strange. the floyd and azul i know would never say something like that.” jade scoffs, looking at the two with disgust.

“huh?” they gasp, staring at him as if he said something crazy. “was sebek’s lightning so powerful, jade is finally starting to awaken?” silver mumbles, raising a finger to his chin. “awaken.. why am i here in the first place..?” jade groans, recollecting his thoughts slowly. “so.. i am a student at night raven college.. on land? agh.”

“my head feels like it’s going to split!” he winces in pain, holding his head as he shouts. all his memories finally began to come back to him, all the moments he had during the year turning the gears in his mind til he was finally back to his senses. “how could i possibly have forgotten something so important?” he huffs, looking back at the doppelgängers behind him.

“floyd would never act so obedient, he’s much more domineering. azul would give orders to others without putting himself in danger as much as possible.” he pauses for a moment, staring at your fake before shaking his head. “[MC] would have never acted so defenseless. what an embarrassing feat. i was acting quite strange.” jade sighs, turning his back towards the trio.

they had all began to complain to jade, asking why he would believe such fake things. dream you broke into tears, curling in floyds arms with a sob. jade would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little jealous, but it’s not the real you so he’ll hold back. a little. they all clung onto jade, begging him to reconsider his decision before he finally spared them a word.

“can you please not touch me? creepy.” with a quick slash, the floyd and azul clones were reduced to goo. jade looked at the fake you, slightly hesitating at your trembling figure. alas, they were spared no expense and fell back into the darkness, crying his name and dragging out each syllable.

“no mercy..” idia stuttered, chewing on his nail. “he was protecting them with his life, only to end them once he realized they were fake.” jamil states, scratching his chin while replaying the scene back in his head. “scary..” idia murmurs. “finally awake, jade?” floyd punches his brothers arm, earning a chuckle. “yes, thank you.”

they share a laugh before hitting each other suddenly, startling each and every one of you. “floyd, you dare have hurt your own brother? i thought my whole body was going to fall apart. have you no mercy on your own blood? how terrible.” jade wiped away a tear, floyd not buying it for a single second.

“jade leech.” his banter was cut short by the sounds of your voice, your stern tone telling that this will not end well for him. “w-why, [MC]! how might i be of service.?” jade smiles, remaining his composure well. “don’t “how might i be of service” me! you have some serious explanation to do once we’re out of this stupid dream.” you scowl, staring him down with an intimidating glare.

jade, seemed unfazed. he was certainly embarrassed, but who is he to let it show? “oh dear, is it quite wrong for one to dream of their mate while asleep?” he shakes his head, catching you off guard. “mate?” everyone collectively questions. “uhm, yeah. do you guys not notice?” floyd scratches the back of his neck as if it were the most obvious thing.

what the hell is he talking about? mate? what.. when? that’s.. it’s not possible. “what are you on about, leech?” you sneer, causing him to grab your hand with a smile. “would you care for me to show you?” he grins teasingly, pulling you in til you rested on his chest. “hey! why you—“

“enough. you two are more than free to discuss this mishap after malleus is defeated. right now, we’ve got bigger problems to focus on.” jamil frowns, separating you two from each other. “..right. im not done with you yet.” you glare at the eel in front of you, much to his amusement. “i look forward to it.”

despite the topic being held for later, you couldn’t help but let jade’s words and fantasies linger in your mind for a moment longer. the statements he had said, the actions he had performed, all of it made you feel.. special.

“he dreams of me?”

A/N: i got lazy at the end whoops. anyways what if i write a jamil one?? double anyways what if jamil and jade love triangl— *gunshots*

im not used to writing long fics for characters by themselves and i think you can tell

date published: 8/22/24

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o0sleepingdead0o · 9 months ago

Text

Prepared for Anything

Part 2, MasterPost

Danny stared at the ceiling, bored, as the creepy clown laughed manically at a camera. Danny hadn’t been in this dimension for two minutes, (he’d portalled directly into Joker’s hideout) before he was promptly tied to a chair. He could get out of it easily.

Thing was, there were others here, restrained more thoroughly than Danny. They wore colourful, armoured suits and were obviously the vigilantes/heroes of this. . .place—Gotham? Danny’d heard the name mentioned a few times now—This Freakshow wannabe was obviously one of their villains.

Danny had been hoping someone would show up without having to draw attention to himself. What was this dimension’s stance on halfas? Or ghosts?

But no one had come yet, it had been an hour, and he was getting stiff from sitting here so long without being able to move his limbs.

Danny heaved a loud, exasperated sigh-groan at the ceiling. The guy, face-painted like a toddler who’d gotten into their parent’s make-up, suddenly stopped monologuing.

Good. It was getting annoying.

“Are you done yet?” Danny complained much like the impatient teenager he was. “I’ve got crap to do, wrap it up, would you?”

Danny came here to explore. He was not exploring. He should be exploring and it was all this dude’s fault.

Danny supposed he could go all ghost on him and bounce, but he came all this way. It wasn’t much of hassle, but still. Danny was stubborn. He knew this.

The warehouse was silent. The creepo wasn’t talking, anymore, he wasn’t doing anything, and Danny deigned to lift his head from where it’d been thrown back on the chair.

The costumed people were looking at him in horror.

Danny wasn’t sure why.

The walking fashion disaster began to cackle with condescending amusement.

Yeah, okay, whatever.

Danny ignored the man’s delve into something about Danny’s impending doom, or threatening him with pain, and something, something, something. Something about broken this, burning that, yada, yada yada, when Danny got an idea.

Behind the chair where his hands were bound, knowing no one was behind him, he quietly broke the ropes on his wrists. The vigilantes—a red one with bandoliers crossing over his chest and one who wore a largely grey and black suit with an R emblem on the left side of his chest—were valiantly trying to dissuade the psycho to leave Danny alone, who now realized the said psycho was coming towards him, carrying a crowbar.

How original.

The Joker, as Danny heard someone call him at some point, he’s not sure when, leaned in close. His breath stank.

Danny made a disgusted face. “Do you not brush your teeth at all? Gross, dude.”

“You won’t be mak—“

Danny punched him in the jaw. The guy went down pretty easily.

Danny made an annoyed noise as he bent down to untie his ankles from the chair legs. He muttered to himself. “Stupid villains, always gotta get in the way, why can’t I just have one nice vacation, huh?”

“How did you do that?”

Danny looked up at the red one. “Do what?” He asked, standing and stretching with satisfying pops.

“Get free.”

“Oh. . .” Danny reached into his hoodie sleeve and pulled out a small hand saw. He guessed he coulda used a knife, but it was the first thing he'd thought of.

The guy spluttered. “You just keep a saw in your sleeve?”

“Yep.” Danny popped the P. No need for them to know he can make portals. As tiny as needed. “You guys want help out of those, or what?” Danny gestured to the chains keeping the two bound on the floor.

“No, Joker’s goons outside probably has the keys, we have back-up. . . .coming. . . .where did you get that?”

Danny didn’t miss a beat as he crouched to get a grip on the chain with the large pair of bolt cutters. “Ah, ya know, never leave home without a good pair of bolt cutters.” He offered. The room they were in was pretty bare, saying he found it “lying around” wouldn’t work. It’d be pretty obvious.

“That is absurd.” The younger one said. “Where did they come from?”

Danny snapped the red one free and moved onto the angry eyebrows one. How did they still emote so well through those masks? “Just had it on hand.”

“But wh—“

“Oh look! There ya go! I gotta go, nice being held hostage with y'all.” Danny ignored their calls for him, climbing out of the nearest window and disappearing.

#danny phantom #dpxdc fanfic #crossover fic #dimension travel #BAMF danny fenton #tim drake wayne #damian wayne

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algae-tm · 2 months ago

Text

B.A.S.

Max Verstappen x Model!Reader

Summary : Max has a girlfriend, you have a boyfriend… guess you both ain’t shit

Currently playing : B.A.S by Megan Thee Stallion

Warnings : toxic Max, toxic reader, toxic Daniel, everyone toxic (in a funny way), suggestive content, implied cheating (don’t cheat y’all), fade to black ending

this is so rushed but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head but I also have so much uni work to catch up on so here you go.

Blah blah blah please do not hate on Kelly Piquet I don’t know her and neither do you, this is fiction.

••••••

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

kellypiquet just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and others

kellypiquet still riding the high ☄️

view all comments

user1 what a race

user4 17th to 1st I know that’s right

user7 patiently waiting for the comment from y/n

— user8 why do y’all always bring her up

— user7 her and max are fucking and you can’t convince me otherwise

— user8 you guys are actually deranged

yourusername so proud of our boy 💙🤎

— user7 you see what I’m seeing @/user8

— user8 okay our boy is insane work

— user9 oh my god

— user10 these are fighting words

— user11 our boy?? OUR?? O-U-R?? Kelly and y/n sister wives confirmed??

— user17 Kelly I’ve never liked you but if you wanna deck her imma look the other way for 5 minutes

— user3 idgi she’s just being nice ???

— user4 being nice is saying well done… with this comment she may as well post a tape of her and max doing the devil’s dance in 69 different positions

— user5 now you know this just plain disrespectful 😭 😭

— user19 the girlies are fighting🤭🤭

— user21 ik max giggling and kicking his feet rn

danielricciardo so proud of our boy 💙🤎

— user7 now what you out here being messy for??

— user11 I know him and y/n are cackling to each other on FaceTime rn

— user15 not them tag teaming her… give her a min to get up 😭

— user25 danny pls spill the tea what do you know!

yourusername just posted on instagram

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 934,897 others

yourusername brasil you’ve been so good to us, te amo 🇧🇷

tagged maxverstappen1, yourboyfriendsuser

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user5 the picture of you and max b4 the one of you and your man… can someone say messy

user6 te amo Brazil? Or te amo your boyfriend??? Or te amo Max????? like pls girl help us understand 😭

yourboyfriendsuser we need to come back for a baecation ♥️

— user7 lmao he’s fighting for his life 🤭 he rlly said let’s go back just us two

— user9 you just know he barely saw her all week

user12 I love toxic girls! Love to see women in male dominated fields fr fr

maxverstappen1 💙

— yourusername 🤎

— user7 naurrrrrrrr 😭 😭

— user8 Kelly Piquet found dead

— user12 okay but like actually what is going on??????? like genuinely??? does anyone know??

danielricciardo lmao

user27 after god fear women cause wtf is going on 😭

MESSAGES

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton and 1,349,129 others

yourusername some stills from the B.A.S music video, thanks for having me meg 💛💚

tagged theestallion

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theestallion I LOVE YOU! knew you’d be perfect 💛💚

— user8 you might as well have called her a trifling hoe

— user10 lmao a song about cheating and being toxic and you were just like I’ll call y/n, she’s perfect

user7 I don’t care that she’s a weirdo, your honour I love her!

— user16 the thing is I don’t think anyone actually dislikes her 😭 I think ppl are actually amused by her antics

— user14 keep in mind her antics are publically cheating on her boyfriend with a guy who has a partner and a step kid 😅😅😭

— user16 allegedly!

user28 me personally I would love to have a timeline of her and max’s situationship…. Cause like how do they even know eachother?

— user17 apparently she used to do karting??

— user24 yk childhood friends make so much sense as to why Kelly can’t get rid of her

maxverstappen1 😃😅

— user14 oh my god, this is basically confirmation right? RIGHT?!

— user12 max you may as well have commented yes we’re fucking

— user13 men are so stupid… cause y/n just pulled of the most amazing troll (is it still trolling if it’s true???) and now you wanna ruin it

user32 girl!!???? Oh my god!!?? I’m sorry??!! Like this deserves jail oh my god

— danielricciardo free my girl, she did it all but I support her!

MESSAGES

••••••

TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee

@callsignwidow

@a-beaverhausen

@emryb

@c0deincrazy

@dontworryaboutitokie

@c-losur3

@chuxk-lerclerk

@silkenthusiasts

@ietss

@sp1rl

@destinyg237

@aliorasspace

#f1 smau #formula 1 smau #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one smau #max verstappen x black!reader #max verstappen smau #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine

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prettyinpatrickzweig · 15 days ago

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bsf! patrick zweig lives rent free in my head

all i do is fantasize about those sweltering summers on the east coast (I think he'd be filthy Kennedy rich and probably have multiple houses, his favorite being on the Cape, maybe Hyannis in true Kennedy fashion)

warnings: horny yearning, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, spitting, slapping, kinda degrading? (both parties are very much into it) come eating, sweat (it’s challengers smut…) NOT proofread.

you'd grown up together, the girl next door and his best friend since you were little

he's protective of you, sure, but there's always been a little voice in his head that was always nagging at him, wondering how easy it would be to corrupt you.

you seemed innocent enough, blushing when he would divulge in his sex life as you two got older.

sleepovers were frequent, your mom loved Patrick and his father adored you, but they didn't really care enough the way parents should about whether or not you guys were... intimate.

you weren't, but god did it annoy you how much faith your mother had in you.

and the lack of intimacy wasn't for lack of desire. fuck, you think you probably thought about Patrick with your hand down your pants on a day-to-day basis, especially in the summers when he was back from boarding school.

he was so alluring, and a tease too. he nagged you about you still being a virgin. even when you finally did lose your virginity in your senior year of high school, he cackled when you told him who it was.

really, it pissed him off that it wasn't him who got to be your first, but you weren't into him like that. his fist sufficed when was late at night and he could stop thinking about your legs or that look in your eye when you were so clearly scandalized by his sexcapades.

he had no idea just how fucking dirty you were. you felt perverted, always thinking about his cock. how pretty it probably was. if it throbbed when he was hard. how it would feel on your tongue. you desperately wanted to shove your face against his chest and inhale his musk, lick his sweat, tweak his nipples.

he had no idea.

the sleepovers were the worst. he was always so close, but you were too meek to try anything. the closest you had been was the one morning you woke up to him gently rutting into your side in his sleep. you slowly brought your hand up and pulled a tit out of your tank top, groping at yourself discreetly while you slowly rolled your hips against absolutely nothing.

when he woke up, you pretended to be asleep. you willed your face to appear as peaceful as you most definitely didn't feel and even pouted your lips a little to appear as if you were dreaming. your cunt was already gushing when he cursed under his breath, looking down at your partially exposed chest. you felt his hand wander and grasp at his bulge, a wretched groan vibrating through his throat. your heart was beating out of its chest and it was a miracle you kept your breath steady. he got up quickly and you heard the bathroom door shut and the faucet turn on.

one summer, a few years later, when you're home from college and he's on a break from tennis tournaments, you find yourself alone in your huge house and incredibly bored. the heat is getting to you, lying outside in the sun by your pool, baby hairs sticking to your forehead as you sip on a drink. your mind wanders, wondering how Patrick is doing.

you haven't seen him in a couple months, probably since Christmas break if you remember correctly. you'd spoken on the phone a few times when he got a few minutes between games and you weren't studying.

you decide to head inside and pick up the landline, calling his house. his dad picks up and immediately recognizes your voice, “I was just on my way out,” he says, but then he starts asking you all sorts of sweet questions, how was school, how's your mom, how's life treating you--checking all of the adult-question boxes. again, he always had a soft spot for you.

when he's satisfied with all of the answers, he says, "give me a minute sweetie, pat's just outside on the court, I'll tell his sorry ass to get inside," you smile at that and twirl the phone cord in your finger.

"actually, mr. zweig, is it okay if I just pop over?" you ask, all sweet. all you can think about is Patrick dripping with sweat and it's making your thighs clench together.

"sure honey."

you chirp a thank you and hang up the phone, before running upstairs to put on a tank and shorts. when you make it to his house, a short skip away, you knock once before the door is opened by one of the staff. you greet him with a hello before you stroll inside and head to the door leading outside. you hover before the glass, peering out to see Patrick in a game with who you assume is his new coach.

his arms are glistening and his chest is collecting sweat as he moves side to side on the court. he glides with ease, twirling his racket when he sends a particularly strong backhand that earns him a point. he grins as he listens to something his coach says as he packs up his bag. you take that as a perfect time to interrupt.

opening the french doors you call out his name and his head whips around to see you, standing there in all your glory. the sun beats down on his shoulders as his face splits into a grin. dropping his bag, he takes large strides over to you on the balcony as you make your way down the stairs. when you meet, he pulls you into a hug and you feel the slick of sweat coating his skin press into the cotton of your top, sticking to his chest and peeling away as he pulls off of you. it takes everything in you not to lick the droplet of sweat hanging off his nose.

one of your straps falls, his eyes trail across your chest and shoulder, and his fingers glide over to pull it back up. he smooths it down against your warm skin, before looking back at you. his touch lingers a moment before he takes his hand off, smiling a crooked smile and mumbling a, "hey."

you smile back at him, swallowing suddenly as your throat has conveniently dried and you find yourself unable to speak as you take in the sheer fucking sexiness that is your best friend.

and the rest of the summer is like that. hot. and sticky. and sexy. and you're fucking drooling every time you even glance at Patrick who is conveniently always shirtless.

somehow he is unaware of your oogling, or so you think.

the day you finally break, you’re by the pool. it’s late, finally cooling off from the sticky day time. you’ve had a couple of drinks but nothing crazy, just a little tequila to loosen you up.

you’re laughing about something, probably how love sick art is with his new girlfriend (he came around a few summers ago and always looked like a lost puppy which you found adorable) or even your moms new boyfriend who’s somehow even richer than her last husband. and somehow, you two keep inching closer and closer until you’re playing footsie with him as you rant about your college experience and how lame everyone is there.

“not as exciting as me?” Patrick says with a quirk of his head, a small smirk playing on his face. you slap him in tease, but your hand lingers on his chest and you both look down at it as the seconds stretch and its still there. your cheeks heat up even though there’s a breeze in the air and maybe it’s the tequila but suddenly you can’t figure out why you never even kissed your best friend. your nails slightly dig into the pink skin and you feel his breathing hitch. when you look up you see his tongue dart out and you just can’t help yourself when your fingers trail to one of his nipples and you give it a pinch, smiling as you do so.

his mouth drops and he slaps your hand away before pushing you into the lounge chair you’ve been sitting in. his arms sit beside your head as he dips his head closer to yours, one of his legs finding its place between yours. you can feel his cock straining against his trunks (which are unbelievably short—SLUT). his nose nudges yours but when you go to kiss him finally, he pulls away, cruel smile splitting his face.

“how long have you wanted this?” he whispers, his voice gravelly. his eyes dissect your face, picking up on the way you keep looking down at his hips, rhythmically rolling against you to relieve some tension.

“fuck you patrick you’re such a tease” you snarl, slapping his chest again. this makes him laugh.

“and apparently you’re into that, baby” butterflies erupt in your stomach and you feel yourself pooling in your bikini.

“answer me,” he tries again, softer this time, as he begins running his nose along your neck, tracing to your ear.

“forever. god you’re so stupid,” you whine. he smiles as he pulls his head up again before finally closing the distance and kissing you.

it’s messy and mean and there’s so much tongue, but it’s so unbelievably Patrick. it’s better than anything you ever imagined. your hips begin rolling to meet his, your hands slithering up his torso and gripping his hair. he groans when you pull on it, so you pull again.

he grabs your face and pulls away, his grip tight and holding you in place. “please say you want to fuck me, god I need to hear you say it”

you’re breathless for a second, you never realized how desperate he was.

“fuck me, patrick. Jesus, please I need it so bad.” his head sagged as he groaned again, his hand coming down to fumble his waistband under his cock before he untied the sides of your bikini, pulling the bottoms off and pushing your leg up to your chest.

you feel very exposed out on his patio, but suddenly you can’t find it in you to care as he uses his thumb to spread your lips, admiring.

“Jesus, fuck— prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen.”

“patrick,” you squirmed. he looked up at you, his mouth open and his eyes half lidded, the look of pure sex and he hadnt even so much as slipped in yet.

“sorry, baby,” he says as he aligns himself and thrusts in. all at once you feel him, every inch as he stretches you out on the scratchy lounge chair. a moan is ripped from you and your fingers find his hair again, yanking on his curls harder now. he moans with you, his mouth resting in the crook of your neck and shoulder, biting at the skin as his hand snakes over your stomach and pulls your bikini top down, groping your tits.

you whine in his ear and he thrusts into you harder in response. balls slapping against your ass, he grunts, “so fucking good, fuck— wanted this for so long. always thought you were too good for me.”

he begins whimpering softly in time with his thrusts. your other hand reaches around his around your throat and you squeeze it harder, panting.

“oh god, you were fucking made for me, I swear. so fucking good. so good. so—“ he cuts himself off with a groan as you yank on his hair harder.

“you dont ever shut up do you?” you say as his head pulls up in time with another yank at his hair. his eyes are closed but he smiles which makes you laugh.

“you’re so mean,” he says, giving another thrust in mockery. “fuck, slap me. slap me please.”

your eyes are trained on him from below. his thrusts haven’t slowed down and it’s hard for you to think straight when the hand from your neck reaches below to start circling your clit. you throw your head back before you can fully grasp what he’s asking you.

“please, baby. need you to slap me. be mean to me, you’re so good at it,” he rasps in your ear before nibbling on the lobe.

you yank his hair again to pull his head up before winding your other hand up and slapping him so his head turns from the force. his next thrust is so hard you can feel it in your stomach as you bring your other leg up and lock it around his back, pushing him in deeper.

“ohhhh god. yes. fuck baby you’re perfect.”

you grab his face and lick a stripe up his cheek, tasting the sweat that’s begun to glisten on his skin.

his fingers work faster on your clit and your chest begins to rise and fall faster than before. sliding your fingers back to the nape of his neck, you grip him hard as the pressure reaches its peak.

“patrick please. please-“

“what is it baby,” he says, lowering his head to suck on your nipple. his eyes locked with yours, your mouth hung open, you let out a loud groan.

“gonna come, make me come, please pat,” you cry out, clenching around him.

“gonna get you there. fuck you’re so good for me. so fucking dirty. fucking pervert too, should’ve known all a long,” he spits on your chest and you throw your head back, releasing as your body jolts with pleasure. he ruts into you faster, still rubbing your clit while chasing his high.

they get sloppy right before he pulls out and comes on your stomach, head thrown back and chest heaving. his fist pumping slowly, milking himself and covering your skin. when he’s done he looks down at you, analyzing the situation. he lowers his body, lapping up the mess before meeting your lips. he pushes it into your mouth and you groan, accepting it greedily.

when you swallow you show him and he smiles all proud.

“fuck you’re just as disgusting as me,” he says with a chuckle. you blush and look away. he reaches for your jaw and pulls you back to him.

“I fucking love it,” he says as he kisses you again, slower and deeper this time.

…

#challengers smut #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig #challengers #bsf!patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x reader smut #smut

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