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writingouthere · 5 months

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singlemom!reader x neighbor!sukuna. you miss having a baby and Sukuna is dying from a combination of your sexual tension, his lowkey(highkey) baby fever and the drudgery of attending a child's birthday party

cw: Sukuna's breeding kink, red flags are present and accounted for, no one gets laid tho so sad face. this actually ended up being way more sincere and heartfelt than I intended but honestly very typical of me

"Oh we're not together, Sukuna's just been letting me and Bug crash while we look for an apartment."

"Oh he's not my boyfriend, we're just friends!"

"He's actually not Bug's dad. No, no. But, they get along really well. She enjoys having someone else to hang out with aside from me, I think."

Your laughter after the last one plays on repeat as he goes to grab the two of you some refreshments. Sukuna feels like he's living the world's worst version of groundhog day, except instead of being some sad loser who relives the same day over and over, he's apparently a sad loser who is going to live the same conversation over and over again.

"Fuck this shit."

"Um, excuse me but could you watch your language. This is a kid's birthday party." Sukuna wants to ask the bitch who is correcting a grown man's language if he would mind watching his own fucking business but you seem to care about what these losers think and he won't make life difficult for you.

If he happens to step on the guy's foot as he leaves with two cups and a juice box caught in his elbow, well, his steel toed boots need the exercise.

Sukuna knew that if any of his acquaintances, he didn't have friends after all, could see him now, they would die laughing. Die ,because he would kill them for laughing, but fuck he couldn't even really blame them, even in his hypothetical.

Once upon a time, Sukuna was a feared criminal. People pissed themselves when he cornered them in a dark alley. Other bad guys would look at him and say, "wow that guy's a real piece of shit" and now look at him. Stuck at some three year old's birthday party. One more kidzpop butchering of an already shitty song away from committing another felony.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he knew he was at least getting some pussy out of it, but he had just spent the past two hours hearing you deny him to anyone who asked and it was really starting to get to him.

He knew he was being a little bitch about it, and he wasn't upset just because you weren't fucking him. He was upset that all the things you were telling people, they were technically true. He was just letting you and your daughter crash. He was just your friend, not your boyfriend. Even the comments about him not being Bug's dad, but him being positioned as some kind of really invested babysitter, those might have stung more than the ones about your relationship but you thought that was true too.

Thinking about the kid made him look for her, not that Sukuna ever wasn't aware of where you and your daughter were. It had become instinct before he was even aware of it.

Bug was laughing with some kids he recognized from daycare and others from their regular trips to the park. Her happiness was contagious and Sukuna found his lips twitching up at the ends despite his shitty mood.

Your daughter's eyes found him from across the playground. "kuna!" she called, waving her little hand at him. He waved back with his available hand and made his way towards her. She met him halfway, her little legs unsteady on the wood chips but she didn't seem to notice. She was always like that when she saw him, she ran fearlessly. Maybe she just trusted he'd catch her.

Was it so wrong of him that he didn't like the reminders she wasn't his. That it stung, not just because of his feelings but because it just couldn't be true. He might not have fathered her, but fuck anyone who said this little girl wasn't his.

"I got you a juice, you've been running around so much you gotta be thirsty."

"Not thirsty," Bug argued leaning into him. He held up his hands that were holding the grown up drinks for the two of you, and moved the package still lodged in the crease of his elbow towards the petulant toddler. "Take it, or I'll drink it."

Bug stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed it. She struggled to get the wrapping off the straw and Sukuna didn't even notice what he was doing until she had the straw stretched out towards him and he was pulling the wrapper off with his teeth. He spit it out on the ground as your daughter gave him a polite thank-you and then walked away, sipping her juice as she went to catch up with her friends.

What had become of him?

"Need a hand?" You smile at him and Sukuna hands over your cup before taking a sip of his own. There was unfortunately no alcohol in it but drinking it occupied his mouth before he acted like a pussy and asked you, "what are we?" or "should we get married?" or something equally as pathetic.

"God, I want a baby."

Sukuna almost spit out his drink but he manages to tone it down to just a little cough before turning to look at you. You don't even seem a little embarrassed which is just infuriating. Sukuna's about to make a suggestion on how he can help with that when you sigh and point to where some loser is holding their ugly baby.

"Aren't babies just the cutest, I miss when Bug was that age."

Oh, so this was just you looking at other people's red-faced brats and feeling nostalgic and was not in fact a call to action. Sukuna rolled his eyes and leaned back on the hand closest to you so he didn't touch you as he was so tempted to do these days.

"That baby, like all babies, is hideous. All they do is cry, shit themselves and vomit and I'm not even sure Bug is the exception to that and she's the best kid there is."

You look touched at his affection for your daughter but also fired up on behalf of babies everywhere.

"You can't just say a baby is hideous, Sukuna. Those are the Zenin's. Bug is friends with some of them."

"Well are the older ones cuter, because that baby looks like someone fucked one of those hairless cats."

"Sukuna!" you hiss but he sees you smile, despite yourself. "Okay, maybe that baby isn't like the cutest baby-"

"Hideous."

You continue after smacking his arm. "But Bug was cute, okay. And I'm not just saying that because I'm her mom." You take out your phone and quickly swipe until you get to what you're looking for. "See, cute baby."

Sukuna grabs your phone and looks. It's not the first picture he's seen of a young Bug and he's taken his share of photos of her himself, but he finds himself taken in by it anyway.

It has to be a picture from when Bug was really young, she still had the scrunched up, red face that he associates with newborns. But he thinks you're right, she's still cute. He doesn't know if it's because he knows that baby will grow up to be your daughter, but he finds his thumb caressing her little baby cheeks, the wisps of hair he can see peaking out from where she's wrapped in a baby blanket. It's then he sees she's not alone in the picture and there's a different version of you holding her.

The thing that stands out to him is how tired you look. He thinks this couldn't have been too long after you gave birth but still, he wondered if you'd gotten any rest those first few months. You still didn't like talking about your ex, or the circumstances that had led you to his apartment, but Sukuna knew that chances are you were taking care of Bug single handedly and that couldn't have been easy, cutest kid or not.

"She was beautiful, she still is." He reluctantly hands the phone back to you and you look at the picture again, tears building up in your eyes.

"She is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I-I wish that the circumstances were different in how I got her. Sometimes, I wonder how I'll explain everything to her when she's older. She just deserves so much better than him, you know?"

"You both do." Sukuna reaches over and brushes away one of the tears that had managed to fall down your cheek. He leaves his hand there a moment, holding your cheek in his palm, just appreciating the warmth.

"Do you want any?"

"What?" Sukuna isn't sure what you're talking about anymore. He can only see your lips right in front of him, the way that your eyelashes brush against your cheek as you blink faster and faster.

"Babies, do you want any?"

Something short circuits in Sukuna's brain and he wants to say, fuck yes.

He wants to tell you that he thinks about it every day. Every time you put Bug on your hip or send him youtube videos of hairstyles you want to try on her. Whenever it's late at night, and little feet pad out of your room and Bug asks him in the loudest whisper he's ever heard, if he can get her some water because she's so thirsty.

He thinks about it when the sun streams through the curtains of his apartment in the morning and it lights up your hair as you move throughout the kitchen, a force of nature, a creature from somewhere far too good to have ended up here with him.

He thinks about it when the three of you go out and people just assume you're a family, because of course you're a family. When you and Bug play some made up game, or Bug gets tired even though she denies it and he carries her sleeping form against his chest. When he holds her in his lap on the subway and you lean to rest your head on his shoulder and he feels like this, this is what he's always wanted.

He's not all pure and good though, because he thinks about it late at night in his bedroom too. After a day of your smiles, of seeing your thighs stretch out of those sleep shorts you started wearing when the weather warmed up, whenever he remembers the feel and smell of your panties when he's lucky enough to find a pair in the laundry basket, he thinks about how the two of you would make some really cute fucking babies.

He's imagined it a million ways. He's imagined you telling him you've gone off your birth control and you need him now after he takes you out on an anniversary dinner. Or him crowding you up against the kitchen counter and you begging him to put a baby in you.

His favorite fantasy is currently one where you get so carried away when you finally finally fuck that you don't ask him to wear a condom and he spends the whole night making sure you're nice and good and full of him and when you tell him a few weeks later you missed your period, he'll let you freak out. But then he'll tell you that he'll take good care of you, and Bug, and your soon to be little one and he'll finally have you, all of you and once you have your second, he'll knock you up again, as many times as he can because there could never be too many mini-you's running around.

At this point, Sukuna remembers he's talking to you, the real you and he swallows a few times before he speaks.

"I do," he says simply but something must show on his face because you're looking at him in a way you never have before. He hears your breath hitch and he leans in to kiss you, and you smell so good and his thoughts are consumed by the little family he just knows you're going to have when suddenly he's pelted by a variety of sharp, little objects.

Sukuna immediately holds up his arm to shield you from what he now sees is a barrage of wood chips which are being thrown at you by an army of toddlers, including your daughter.

You immediately get up and start talking to the kids about the danger of throwing what are basically large future splinters at people's faces and Sukuna is contemplating the murder of every child that isn't his own when you turn to look at him.

You're not just looking at him, you're seeing him and oh. Maybe he would be getting laid tonight, after all.

The slow burn is almost done folks.

thank you to the amazing reception to this series and the one-shot I posted(which there will be a prequel of soon!). it's literally so insane. Masterlist will be up tomorrow which I hope helps with accessibility!

edit: masterlist is up!

#jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x singlemomreader #sukuna ryomen smut

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myriadsystem · 1 year

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Fucken hate landlords man

#personal #like this isnt new but mine in particular is getting on my fucking nervesss bitch #in fact my EX agent because i moved like 3 weeks ago. why am i still dealing with him? give me fucking bond and go about your shitty life #i will be getting bond back. i was a perfect tennant and even if i wasnt my father and i wet vaced #washed and wiped the walls and then dry vacced #all of which i have photographic proof of and there are of course no holes in the wall and no damage that wasnt already there #i should 100% be getting it back. hes just a fucking cuck and is taking forever to process it #tbf hes always been a cuckfuck it took him over 7 weeks to have a new washing machine installed when it broke despite constant emails #just fucking sick of it yknow? like ive literally borrowed several hundred dollars from my parents WHO JUST HAD THEIR FUCKING WEDDING #so i could afford the bond to move and i need to pay them back. theyve just spend so much money on a wedding and ive got other bills to pay #so many things would be sorted if this fucking assclown just did his job in a timely manner #hope you get in a horrible firey car crash and explode and die horribly but not eith anyone i care about involved and not before #you give me my fucking money you piece of shitstained pigfaced jerkhole

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reiderwriter · 2 months

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Hello!I hope you are having a great day!I love LOVE your writing and I would like to request a fanfiction where the reader is Hotch's daughter who works at the bau and is in a secret relationship with spencer without her dad knowing.Spencer wants to tell the team but she is scared about how they'll react so they fight but during a case she gets kidnapped and the feelings are high,so spencer accidentally reveals the relationship.I would love if it ended in smut (possibly dom!spencer who is angry at her for being so reckless and risking her life like that) and maybe a lot of angst??Hotch could potentially be fuming but when they get her back he decides that he will let them be??I would like my emoji to be 🌼!Thank you in advance and if you write this I would absolutely LOVE to read it!🤍🤍

A/N: I love writing for a Hotchner Reader because the Hotch/Spencer parallels are so 😙👌 This was so fun to write!

Warnings: Smut/ Angst with a happy ending, Semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, case details, kidnapping, abuse, strangulation, mentions of child death/ allusions towards pedophilia etc, Hotch is a somewhat shitty/overprotective dad/boss.

Masterlist!

Falling back into a hotel bed that wasn't yours, you wrapped your legs around Spencer Reid as he furiously worked open the buttons of your shirt, his lips locked with yours in a furious exchange.

“Spencer, Spencer, we can't-” You moaned as his lips fell down to your ear, a small tap to your thigh signalling that he wanted tour legs spread for him. Despite your vocal protests, you complied.

“Need to feel you,” he groaned, nipping and sucking his way down your chest as his big hands began pushing your skirt up and your panties down.

“Spencer, someone will hear.”

“I don't care who hears,” he whispered, finally ridding you of the last piece of material covering your wet sex. “I just want to make you feel good.”

His lips fell to your cunt, falling on your cunt as he began his ministrations. You loved this, the feeling of him near, his lips on you, his tongue teasing out whimper, then moan, then a scream of his name as you came undone on his lips. But that wasn't a chance you could take today.

“He's in the next room, Spencer. Fuck, he's going to hear us.”

You wouldn't push him off, enjoying too much the feeling of your building pleasure, so appealing to your boyfriend to do the right thing was your last resort as your hips bucked into his face, chasing your orgasm.

He didn't stop, but held your hips down, thrusting his tongue in and out of you as his fingers came up to tease your clit.

“Spencer, fuck-” you slapped a hand over your mouth as you shuddered below him, finally reaching your climax.

Your hands fell limp as he worked you through the end of your orgasm before rising up to lay beside you on the bed.

“I wish you wouldn't push it, Spencer. You're a dead man if he catches us like this.”

“Hotch won't kill me just because I'm dating his daughter. I don't understand why you don't want to tell people.”

You ran your hands through your hair in frustration. It was a conversation you'd been back and forward on a lot in the past six months.

Dating a coworker was tricky, doubly so when your coworker’s boss - and your boss - was your overprotective father. Things only became more complicated when you factored in a ten year age gap and the fact that your father refused to view you as an adult, even when you were a fully qualified member of his own team.

You'd had to fight for acceptance into the FBI and go above him to get the job on his team, a decision that he still berated you for to this day. But you'd had enough of him shielding you from reality, and it was a step you needed to take.

Falling in love with Spencer Reid, though, that was just pure bad luck.

You weren't sure how it had taken you until joining the team to meet the man, but you sure were glad he hadn't been introduced earlier. You'd joined the team at 24, having been in grad school until your FBI Academy application was approved, and somehow in the 10 years before that Spencer had worked under your father, you'd never crossed paths.

Of course, you knew who he was before that from context and conversations with your father, and of course, he figured out who you were quickly based on the many arguments you'd had in Hotch’s office. But that hadn't stopped you from repeatedly falling into his bed month after month, and then falling in love with him.

Your relationship was more than the sex, but it was also a lot of sex. From the stories you'd heard, and from the look of him, you'd assumed that Spencer was a delicate little flower, an innocent in the bedroom as much as any 34 year old man could be.

And then you'd both been offered spiked drinks at a holiday party courtesy of Penelope Garcia, and he'd proved you deliriously wrong. He'd been hooked from then on, and after waking up awkwardly in his bed the next morning to two cups of coffee and a spread of breakfast pastries he'd gone out to specifically pick up for you, you'd been hooked on him as well.

The only problem was Hotch.

You certainly weren't winning any daughter of the year awards already with the stunt you pulled to get on the BAU, but you didn't want to be completely and totally disowned just yet.

“Hotch won't kill you for dating his daughter, you're right,” you mumbled back to Spencer rolling yourself back on top of him and pinning his arms down so his fingers couldn't tease you any further.

“Thank you, now if you trust me, I've ran like four different scenarios in my head so-”

“He'd definitely fire us both, though. And that's worse than death.”

“Y/N….”

“Tell me I'm wrong, please. Back up your findings with empirical evidence. He doesn't want me on the team, Spencer. He doesn't even want me in the FBI. I think he'd be happy enough to ship me out of the country, too, if that helped.”

Spencer sighed and tugged your hair behind your ear as he gestured for you to sit up.

“I know it's scary. But I love you. I don't care about the consequences because I'll still love you before and after telling him.”

“And during?”

“I might freak out a bit, but deep down, the love will be there still.”

You hit him with a pillow and climbed off the bed.

“Okay, get out now. I'll think about it but you really can't stay here tonight.” He nodded, grabbing his things and pulling his clothes back into place.

“So, like we're totally done for tonight? Nothing else.”

“Spencer! Out!” You whisper-shouted the words and watched him turn your door handle as slowly as possible before he waved his goodbye and left your room.

12 hours later, you were once again getting frustrated with Spencer Reid. And Aaron Hotchner. They may soon be enemies, but goddamn they were perfect for each other in some ways.

“Hotch, you can't just give me nothing to do. Send me to the morgue with Rossi, or let me interview family members with Tara. I'm a member of this team, too, so let me do my job.”

“You'll do well to remember that I'm your boss, Y/N.”

“You're acting more like my dad right now. A boss would utilize his team members.”

You'd been stuck in this stale mate since the morning, and Reid hadn't helped at all. When giving out assignments that morning, you'd not been notably left out of crime scene investigation, suspect interrogation, and anything helpful. Reid usually asked for your assistance at times like these, but he was finally putting his money where his mouth was and keeping distance from you in the office.

So far, you'd ran coffees back and forth between the kitchen and work room and had been communicating back and forth with JJ and Derek in the field and Garcia back at Quantico.

You'd been, for lack of better comparison, relegated to receptionist.

“At least let me work on the geographical profile with Reid-”

“Absolutely not.”

You stiffened at the reaction, wondering just exactly why he would react so strongly. Spencer had snuck in a few secret kisses here and there this morning, though you'd been sure that you'd had no witnesses.

“Why not?”

“I don't want you to distract him.”

Bile settled in the back of your throat as you tried your best to bite your tongue and keep the bitter words in.

“You know, sometimes, Dad, it feels like you love everyone on this team more than you love me.”

He locked eyes with you quickly, but he glance was dismissive and stern, almost as if he was asking you ‘seriously.’

You turned on your heels and began to walk out before he called out from behind you again.

“Y/N,” you stopped despite yourself.

“Leave the gun and badge on the desk. We'll discuss this after the case is closed.”

You almost laughed. You almost blurted out your relationship with Spencer just to spite him. You followed his order and took yourself out of the office for some fresh air, finally giving him what he wanted.

An hour of aimlessly wandering down the street, and you turned into a run-down park. 16 missed calls from Spencer and other members of the team, who'd no doubt watched you turn in your badge.

Garcia had even called a few times, and you felt guilty for not forwarding her calls somewhere else, knowing she'd probably have key case information for someone.

But you just couldn't handle it anymore, so you switched it off, pushed it back into your pocket, and kept walking.

It was two more blocks before the man following you pushed a soaked rag over your mouth and nose and pushed your unconscious body into the back of a waiting van.

×××××

Two hours of near constant complaining to Hotch had gotten Spencer nowhere in his demands to know just where you went.

He'd called you 36 times since Hotch had told him you'd left, and he hadn't stopped freaking out since.

“But where did she go?”

“I sent her back to the motel.”

“All of our cars, bar the one JJ and Morgan took to the crime scene, are outside and accounted for. The motel is a 34-minute drive away. It'll take her 5 hours on foot through our unsubs hunting grounds, and I'm not sure if you've noticed, but she matches the victim profile we just gave. Where is she?”

A muscle in Hotch's jaw twitched, but neither of them moved, eyes locked in battle to see who would back down first.

A call from Penelope ended whatever disaster was storming between them.

“Hotch hey, I can't get in contact with mini-Hotch, so here I am. Morgan called earlier from the crime scene. From the way they're posed, he said they could be possible stand-ins for a lost child a daughter or a sister, so I cross checked the ownership of the vehicles that run with the tires we found prints of at the scene, and I got a name. Like one.”

“Great work, Penelope, send it over.”

Hotch dropped the call and looked back up at Spencer, readying himself to give orders and push the issue.

Again, their standoff was interrupted.

“Hotch,” JJ rushed in, carrying a radio dispatcher, face white, and filled with worry. “You need to hear this.”

“Witness reported an abduction on East and 7th, patrol surveyed the scene and found a cellphone. Identifying information suggests it belongs to a Y/N Hotchner. We're bringing it into the stat-”

Hotch stood so fast his chair almost crashed to the floor. He stood so fast that he barely had time to dodge the lunge Spencer took in his direction, fist pulled back. It would connect, given the chance he knew it would. He'd been the one to teach Spencer to throw a punch in the first place.

Morgan insinuated himself between the two men before, and blood could be shed, quickly pulling Spencer back as Rossi, too, rushed into the room to diffuse the situation.

“One hour. I've been asking you for one hour where she went, and you wouldn't answer me. You made her leave her gun behind.”

It wasn't exactly a shout, but there was something broken in his voice, as of his mouth had filled with blood and he could only spit hate at a man who'd been a mentor to him until seconds before.

“If she's hurt- fuck, if even a hair on her head is out of place, I'll-”

“What, Spencer? What will you do? She's my daughter. What could you do that-”

“She's my girlfriend! She's my girlfriend, she's the love of my life. God, I want to marry her, I have the ring, I have the proposal planned, all that was left was telling you and then asking her, but you've been such a dick to her about this job, and about cases, and God knows what else, that she doesn't want to say anything to you, and now you've driven her away and she's fucking gone. And she could be hurt or in danger or d-de…”

He crumpled to the floor, Morgan still holding him as his legs gave way beneath him.

Nobody moved for what felt like hours, still in their grief, shock, some just nervous to see what would happen next.

“You've been in this situation before, Hotch. So have I. It's …. It hasn't ended well for us before.”

The words were so final, so defeated that they sucked the air out of the room.

“Morgan,” Hotch started quietly, eyes still locked with Reid's, still staring down the reflection of his own despair.

“Get Garcia back on the line, I want confirmation that the vehicle that picked Y/N up is the same one that our unsub has been using to set up crime scenes. See if she can lift a name and an address. Rossi, if he's skilled enough to pick up an FBI Agent unaware, we need a SWAT team, get one on standby.”

Slowly growing in volume, he continued, as the room started moving at his signal.

“JJ, Tara, take over where Reid left off with the geographical profile. Look at Y/N's last known location and how far a car could've gotten in the last 24 minutes.”

He paused again, staring Reid down.

“Reid, you're with me.”

xxxxx

It took you a few seconds to gain a sense of your surroundings when you came to. Partially because of the drug induced migraine splitting your head, and partially because of the mess of ribbons and stuffed toys you'd woken up in.

A change of clothes, and hands tied to what seemed to be a children's bed and you felt so grossly vulnerable your body shook with a few harsh sobs before you regained your composure and remembered your training.

The knots on the rope holding your hands were tight. There wasn't much room to move with them pinned above your head, but you recognised them as naval knots. Your unsub had experience at sea, recreational or professional you'd yet to determine.

Looking around again, you looked for entries and exits, wanting to know how the unsub would come in again and how you could get out.

There were no windows, but a set of stairs leading up towards a solid door told you that you'd been locked inside a basement. A basement decorated similarly to a child's bedroom.

Dimly lit by a mass of fairy lights, the room seemed covered head to toe in teddy bears, dolls, and children's books, a sturdy handmade doll’s house standing in the corner of the room.

Faintly, you heard the creaking of floorboards above you before the handle of the basement door rattled and more light poured in.

“I bought you breakfast, cupcake.”

There was no time to feign unconsciousness again as your captor finally came into view.

He was older than middle-aged, slightly wider around the midsection than you assumed he'd been in his youth. His hair was closely cropped and laid neatly, leading you to suspect he was former military.

“Oh, good, you're awake. What do you want to do today, cupcake? Daddy has some time off now, I can play with you all you want.”

You moved slowly, pushing yourself up to a seated position so you could bend your arms a bit. But you didn't look away, needing to keep him in your line of sight the entire time.

“Where am I?” You asked slowly, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Wow, you must've had a deep sleep cupcake. You're in your bedroom, silly!”

The man's sprightly tone was disconcerting, and you could see a muscle in his forehead twitch slightly as you spoke.

“O-of course. My mistake. Maybe I'm just still tired.”

He laid the tray on the bedside table and sat on the bed next to you. You tried your best not to shy from his touch as he stroked your hair, but every muscle in your body tensed and pulled from him reflexively.

A quick glance to the tray and you saw the food he'd brought you was a small cup of pills and a glass of water to rinse them down with.

If he noticed your flinch, he said nothing, grabbing a hairbrush from the nightstand and beginning to comb through your hair slowly and deliberately, taking care like one would a daughter.

“Daddy,” you took a chance, recalling the name he'd given himself earlier. “Can we play outside today? I want to go to the park.”

He stopped moving, and you held your breath as his smile dropped.

“No, sweetie. You know we don't go to parks.”

“Why not? I really want to play there, Daddy, please!”

In seconds, his hands wrapped around your throat as he pushed you back down into the bed, holding you there with his tight, suffocating grip.

“Shut the fuck up you little slut. I said we don't go to parks, you listen. I am your father, you are not being taken by one of those sick freaks again.”

He released you as quick as he grabbed you and stood up, pacing as he attempted to regain composure.

“You can draw or we can have a tea party but you know we can't go out. You know that cupcake, I've told you so many times.”

He grabbed at his hair, pulling it from its carefully styled arrangement into a mess, his fingers leaving red marks against his white skin as he pushed and pulled his head.

He breathed deeply, and you sat up, trying to regain your composure as you watched him lose his.

“What was her name?” You whispered, half hoping he would hear you, half praying that he'd ignore you for the sake of his fantasy.

“W-What?”

“Your daughter. What was her name?”

He focused on you again, but his hands - hands that you knew could and would choke the life out of you if you did something wrong again - his hands were shaking.

You heard the floorboards creaking upstairs and decided to push your questioning, hoping it meant what you thought it did.

“Why are you saying it like that, ‘was?’ Is. Her name is, your name is Laura, and you're my little cupcake.”

“What happened to her?” You filled your voice with as much sympathy and understanding as you could muster, one eye on the basement door that was being slowly pushed open. One look at Morgan at the top of the stairs had your heart rate slowing to a calmer speed. You locked eyes with him for a second, halting him, and he nodded, waiting for your signal.

“You, you're my cupcake, you look just like… She should look just like you.”

The man sat on the bed again, stroking a hair out of your eye as his filled with tears.

“Fifteen years. I looked for her for fifteen years, you know. If I hadn't taken her to that park-”

“That must have been hard.”

He nodded as he broke down in silent sobs.

“They said… they said she probably died a day or two after we lost her. When they found her, she was…” he rested his head on your shoulder, let him cling to you as he mourned his daughter.

“We couldn't identify her, but she had that teddy with her. The teddy with the cupcake in its hands. She never went anywhere without it. So we…we knew.

You looked at Morgan as he slowly made his descent into the room, closely followed by JJ.

The man looked up into your eyes again, wiping the tears from his face.

“She was only 8.” He looked defeated, and your heart broke for him, even as you wished to get as far away from him as you could physically muster.

Morgan pulled him up and away from you as he secured the man with handcuffs, but his eyes remained locked on you.

JJ untied you and guided you out, but you felt his gaze bite into you ever after you'd left the basement.

As soon as you were above ground, you let your body divest itself of adrenaline, your legs buckling as JJ tried to catch you. Another set of arms was quicker, though, and you didn't even register Spencer's arrival before burying your head in his chest and letting your sobs escape you.

He guided you to your feet and walked you out to the ambulance, his arms protectively wrapped around you, his lips peppering kisses along your hairline and forehead, anywhere he could reach. In moments, you were bundled into the ambulance, and three gentle voices were trying to calm you, to pry you away from your comfort doll.

You wondered if you'd die like the unsubs daughter had, if they'd find you clinging to Spencer the way she had to her teddy bear.

“Y/N,” your father's deep voice was clear and smooth, the only thing that was cutting through the wretched moment of pain you were enduring.

You remembered yourself again, relinquishing your grip on Spencer and wiping the tears from your face as you finally looked towards Aaron Hotchner.

The paramedics took their chance and began checking your vitals, working around you in a hurry.

“Dad, I'm sorry, I was walking and didn't notice that he was behind me, I should've been more careful-”

“Y/N, it’s okay. You're okay now.”

You nodded as he came closer. You ignored the tears in his eyes, trying not to break down again. It had been an age since you'd last witnessed him cry, at another crime scene with another family member and another unsub. You couldn't think about how close you'd come to making him relive his worst nightmare.

Spencer's hand was still firm in yours, and you held it like a lifeline, though you were sure your nails had to be cutting him by now. It took another moment to register that he was holding onto you just as hard, that he was unmoving, still where he was usually a series of compulsive moments, tapping, hand wringing, fists clenching and releasing.

You glanced between the men, who had now become quiet as they surveyed you, and noticed the tension. Before you could say anything, though, the paramedics took over.

“We're going to get you to the hospital now, Agent, one coworker can accompany you in the vehicle, preferably one with knowledge of your medical history.”

Both men immediately moved forward again, as if ready to jump into the van, before turning again to each other.

“Shit,” you mumbled to yourself just as the buzzing in your head from the migraine grew louder.

“Y/N, it's your choice. Who do you want to come?” Spencer said gently, his body still stiff with worry.

“I'm her father. This isn't a question of who she likes better.”

“I have her medical records memorized, and I have more knowledge about the drugs the unsub gave her, but Y/N can choose for herself because she is a grown woman.”

You sighed and dropped the man's hand as the medics ushered you into the van fully, but the men were fully absorbed in their fight for dominance that they barely registered it.

“JJ. JJ is coming with me,” You could see both of them turn back to you to argue, but you continued before they could. “Because I am a grown adult who knows her own medical history, and I don't need my father and my… coworker having territory wars over my wellbeing.”

And possibly because she'd be the least awkward option to answer the questions about sexual activity and possibility of pregnancy around, but you really did not need to vocalize that.

“Right now, I'm just a victim you've saved. Go and do your jobs and meet me at the hospital later because I am not doing overtime completing paperwork while on suspension.”

JJ climbed up into the ambulance and the doors shut, letting you finally get a few moments peace as it began slowly making its way to whatever hospital was closest.

“He knows, right?” You asked, covering your eyes with your hands as you braved for the answer.

“Hotch? You could say that he figured it out.”

“That bad?”

“Spencer threw a punch at him. He tried to at least.”

“What?!” Your body shot up, but the paramedic gently forced you back into a laid position, giving you a warning look to stay put as she checked your blood pressure.

“Don't be too hard on him, Y/N. He thought he was going to lose you. They both did. I don't think either of them would survive it happening again.”

The guilt hit you right in the chest as you nodded and dropped the conversation.

“Maybe I should've let Spencer come with me.”

“Why?” JJ asked, not offended bit curious.

“Because I'm not entirely sure my father won't throw that punch back at him now he knows I'm okay. It's hard being in a relationship if one of you is dead.”

The older woman chuckled slightly, and you settled back down, letting the car movements rock you into sleep.

xxxxx

A few hours later and some quietly bickering voices pulled you from the rest you'd so sorely needed. Without even opening your eyes, you knew they'd both subtly scrambled to your bed to make sure you were comfortable.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, wiping your eyes carefully as you tried to sit up, arms still aching from being tied up.

“Oh shit-” you exclaimed after seeing your boyfriends freshly split lip.

“Dad, what the fuck?”

“Y/N, it's fine. It doesn't hurt.”

“Aaron Hotchner, do you have nothing to say for yourself?” You tried to put all of tour anger into the words as you said them, bit he looked at you again with his straight face, and you crumpled under the pressure.

“I won't…I'm not going to object. I just ask you to keep your private life separate from your work.”

“And you're going to punch my boyfriend while I'm unconscious, so I can't defend him.”

“I'm still your father, and he deserved it.”

You looked back over to Spencer, who was quite notably not meeting your eyes.

“Do I want to know?”

“I'm leaving now. Jack will be here soon. He wants to check on you now that school is over. We told him you were hurt trying to save a sick man.”

“Thank you, dad.”

He nodded at you and left you alone in your hospital room with Spencer.

“Why did you deserve it?” You whisper shouted the moment you assumed he was out of earshot.

“The doctor came in and asked about some old bruises on your upper thighs. And ass. And chest. I had to admit they weren't sustained during the kidnapping, and Hotch wasn't pleased.”

You huffed out a sound halfway between incredulous and a strangled moan of shame as you curcled yourself up into a ball and tried your best to die.

“Great. Wonderful.”

“If it makes you feel any better, he thought it was signs of domestic violence and not just rough...sex.”

“Yes, Spencer, that makes me feel entirely more comfortable with the situation.”

Registering the sarcasm in your voice, he quieted down again, settling into the chair by your bedside and grabbing your hand.

You sat silently together for a few minutes before either of you said anything.

“I'm sorry. I know you didn't want him to find out.”

“Spencer, you don't have to apologise. All things considered, this is possibly the best way he could've found out.”

“My busted lip suggests otherwise, I think.”

“And a whole lot more would've been busted if he caught us any other time. Besides, I already lost my job, so there's not much else at stake anymore.”

The words stung you as you said them, but you did still feel the weight of your dismissal in your chest, spreading miserably through your bones.

“Does your head still hurt?”

“Not really, why?”

“You're not as perceptive as you usually are.”

You shot him a confused look as he smiled softly down at you, offering a nod towards the small coffee table under the window of your hospital room.

There on your table sat your creds and your gun. The silent acknowledgement you'd been waiting for from your father.

Spencer sat by you as you did your best to hold off the tears. He let you pretend there was something in your eye, let you wonder if your eyes had become watery because of dust from the basement. He quietly held your hand as you grinned and grinned until you pulled him in for a kiss and held him close to you.

His lips were soft as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of you even as he tried to hold himself up and off you so he didn't hurt you.

“You know,” you said, punctuating each word with another sweet kiss. “This means- that- you're- stuck- with- me.”

He laughed into your final kiss, finally pulling back for more air, studying your face as if he were trying to memorize it.

“That was never the issue.”

“Oh really, and what was?”

He kissed your again, slow and deep this time, taking his time working his hands down from your hair to your neck to cup your face so you were opened up to him, letting his lips and tongue explore everything he wanted to. He pulled away eventually and instinctively your lips tried to chase his, even as he pulled out of reach.

“Making sure you stayed by my side.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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applebees4prez · 4 months

Text

“it’s not fair” seems to be a theme of the season especially in how the people around the bad kids don’t seem to realize that it’s not fair for them either.

cassandra doesn’t realize it’s not fair to kristen that she’s a teenager with a life and other responsibilities who is the sole being keeping a god alive.

the rat grinders don’t realize that it’s not fair that they get to xp level with critters while the bad kids have to save the world. they don’t take into account how each of them have died before and/or watched their best friends die while coming extremely close to death. the bad kids have experienced so much pain and exhaustion and they don’t even get the special treatment that the rat grinders have accused them of.

porter straight up ignores how gorgug is going to struggle with a 400% courseload because he took a hit to his pride. he sees a student so passionate that he’s willing to do four years of school in one and doesn’t think to cut him a little bit of slack.

it’s not fair that adaine grew up with shitty parents and now has to work eight hours a day to pay for her equipment in exchange for getting rid of them. it’s not fair that kristen has to dedicate everything to a god at 16 years old when she has so much else she needs and wants to do. it’s not fair that gorgug has taken on a 400% courseload because of porter’s pride. it’s not fair that fig is cursed to be unlucky and has something going on that she doesn’t understand at all. it’s not fair that he has to work so much harder to get into college and has to manage his entire party because they aren’t as passionate about school as he is. it’s not fair that fabian was abandoned by his mother and is so, so goddamn lonely or that he had to kill his father.

and while everyone else is whining about how unfair everything is (except for cassandra who is valid in her concerns), the bad kids have taken everything in stride. they don’t complain to anyone even though they absolutely have the right to, not even each other.

adaine refused to tell her dad about the things she needed, despite the fact that he would have helped, and got a job. kristen takes the blame for hurting cassandra and keeps dropping the ball because she can’t handle everything and feels so guilty. gorgug took the courseload because he’s so passionate about the things he wants to do and is trying his goddamn best to keep up with it. fig hasn’t talked to anyone about her confusing situation until it caused major problems because she was going to suffer it in silence. riz plasters on a smile and takes everything that he can get in hopes of it impressing schools. fabian hints to his friends that he wants people at his house but never confides in them or questions his parents even though they both had so many issues.

it’s especially not fair that none of them feel like they’re allowed to say it’s not fair. that they take everything in stride until they will someday break down.

#welp time to shower #god these childreb #let me know if i missed anything #fantasy high junior year #fantasy high spoilers #fantasy high #dimension 20 #d20 #adaine abernant #kristen applebees #riz gukgak #gorgug thistlespring #fig faeth #fabian seacaster #fabian aramais seacaster

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kissitbttr · 6 months

Note

Miggy getting babied by his pregnant wife?

hiii! i hope you don’t mind, i changed it a bit because I don’t want it to look too much alike on the other one! this one’s short, enjoy! xx

being a mother to a 6 month old pregnancy bump isn’t easy. if it was, fathers could do it.

and that’s what miguel had been learning through it all. seeing your mood swings shift in a span of thirty seconds, constant cravings for ice creams, kebabs etc, snapping (directly at him and mostly at him), frequent backaches and fatigue. he’s very much impressed how an existence of a human being living inside of you could actually change you as a person.

still, doesn’t mean he loves you less.

“ugh, i’d give my left tit for a big plate of mofongos and a fat ass joint right now”

the two of you are cuddled up in the couch, watching some lame old american tv show that miguel seems to find enjoyable. you’re dressed in one of his t-shirt and grey sweatpants. ones that you had claimed as yours despite miguel’s protest.

your husband chuckles, pulling you closer by the shoulder. “lucky you, mami. i bought an extra before i came home just for you. i could heat it up for you later if you want.”

a dreamy sigh escape your lips, reaching out to kiss his cheek. “thanks papi. you’re the best. what about the joint?”

he snorts, head shaking as his eyes cast down to yours. “i don’t think weed is good for the baby.”

“says who?” you fake a gasp, pulling back slightly. “it’s literally herbal! unless it’s contaminated with tobacco. don’t we have a stash up in the closet?”

“you finished them all, ma. basically rolling those joints with your pretty fingers before this happened” he points at the bump. “usted es avaro, mi corazon. barely left some for me”

a smile pulls up into your mouth, head resting against his bare chest. hand interlocking with his. “remember when we were celebrating our one year anniversary and got high?”

“ay dios mio” he groans playfully, rolling his head back. “don’t remind me, baby”

“it was so fun” you ignore the embarrassment creeping into his cheeks, grinning even wider when he tries to hide it. “we went to taco bell after.”

“yeah and i threw it up because it tasted like shit”

you hum, nodding along. “and decided to get shawarmas and fries instead because we weren’t satisfied”

“one with the small food truck in 133th street” he confirms, his cheek against the crown of your hair. smiling at the memory. “i remember you told me not to get ones from across that italian place that you like because we need to support small business. had to stop you from crying too much because you kept saying how unfair it was for rich bastards to keep open up restaurants when they have shitty palate”

his comment makes you laugh hard. his grip around your hand tighten. some sort of pride blooms in his chest when he sees you laugh freely like that.

“oh god i remember!” as you slowly recover from the laugh. “we sat on the pavement after that right? you kept telling me how you want me to be the mother of your child.”

“damn, why do you keep recalling all the embarrassing things i did, huh?” he asks jokingly with a deep chuckle. now his attention isn’t even on the tv anymore.

“because it’s cute! you were so cute!” he shakes his head once more, biting down a shy smile as you shift your body weight to wrap your arms around his neck. “my miggy is so cute with the ‘i want you to be my wife, i want to get you pregnant, mi amor. say yes please, please, pleaseeeee’”

you continue to mock his actions back then, watching him cower down at the attempt of you trying to mimic his voice. strangely enough, you almost got it right.

he has his hands covered his face.“stop that, princesa! come onnnn”

you respond with a head shake as a ‘no’. “ay, papi don’t be shy” you giggle, trying to pry his hands off. “come on. let me see my hubby. let me see him”

miguel doesn’t budge for a while before peeking in-between his fingers like a little kid, then slowly peeling his hands away, jutting his lower lip forward.

you gasp, hand over your heart. “god damn! you can’t be walking around looking like that! can’t have all the girls falling for the sexiest man alive”

he rolls his eyes, smiling at your compliment. “stop being biased, baby!”

“i am not! how dare you calling the mother of your kid a liar, hm?” you tug him down, letting his head rest in between your neck and shoulder blade. “my baby daddy is sooo handsome. i won the fucking lottery.”

“definitely the other way around, love.” he disagrees, hand coming up to rest on your bump. “you stole my heart the moment you walked into my office that day. never thought in my life that a gorgeous architect made me get down on my knees and pray to the lord up there to let me have you.”

now that makes your heart skips a beat. how could you compete with that? he never fails to make you swoon even after years of being with him. it’s like the butterflies never stopped.

“hmm now you’re being biased, miggy”

“nope. i was so sure that i was in love with you.” he then turns to look up to you, tone becoming serious. “my god, you were the finest thing i have ever laid my eyes upon, mami. was literally bending over backwards to impress you. and now? seeing you swollen with my baby just made you ten times more gorgeous than before. you’re the love of my life, mi amor. and i will prove it to you for the rest of my life if i had to”

truly, you had never believe in luck or hope. it’s something that never sits well with you. odds never had been in your favor and you believed that for the longest time. you were fine being all alone. you have a job that pays you well, great condo, a body that you learned to adore, a loving mother. four things that you have always been so grateful for. you wouldn’t change a single thing.

but when miguel happened? everything in your life had changed for much better. from having to do everything on your own to ‘i got this one baby’. sure, you weren’t exactly comfortable with it at first, because you had never been the one who had asked for help.

yet you learned to love it all because of him,

with a grateful smile, you trace your fingertips across his soft lips. beautiful red eyes not leaving yours, as if he’s afraid that if he looks away for a second he would lose you completely,

“you’re the love of my life too, miguel”

don’t forget to reblog and comment babes!! xx

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara blurbs

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svuguru · 1 month

Note

omg can you do a daddy Satoru, who noticed just how sexy his girl has become? head empty just thirsting rn 😭

I wrote this at midnight 🩷 so it’s a bit bad mb 😕 tags: incest!!!!!!!!!!! MINORS AND ANTIS DNI!!!!!! Umm cheating?? from the reader lol

“You’re looking so pretty… such a big girl, huh?” Satoru grins as he twirls a few strands of your hair, his eyes scanning you up and down until they fall on your chest for a few moments.

“Mhm! Thank you, daddy,” a smile graces your lips as you process his compliments, the way he’s looking at you so flattering.

Satoru knows it’s wrong, he knows how bad it really is… but he just can’t help himself! He’s recently started noticing how fine of a woman you’ve grown into, and the way your little dumb mind is still calling him daddy even though you’re already 22… everything about it attracts Satoru to you.

“‘Course, princess,” he pats your cheek affectionately, his eyes staring at you in a way that’s probably a bit too comfortable for a father and daughter.

In all honesty, you really don’t know how such a simple, seemingly innocent enough, compliment resulted in you face down, ass up on your dad’s bed, crying and pulling at the sheets as he thrusts his fat cock into your tight hole.

“Ugh, daddy!” You whine into the pillows, your voice muffled from it as well.

“Hush, baby, gotta stay quiet…” Satoru groans before landing a smack to your ass and rubbing it to soothe it. He’s so big, stretching you out just right.

Your juices paint his dick as you whine into the pillows underneath you. You turn your head to the side so you can breathe, the room reeks of sex and filthiness. While Satoru knows he shouldn’t be doing this to his own daughter, that thought doesn’t even cross your mind.

He just can’t resist you when you’ve grown up to be such a beautiful woman, so kind and loyal to your caring daddy. You can feel his veins sliding along your walls, fucking his hips back and forth, every thrust eliciting a loud cry out of you.

“Can feel you S’deep, daddy…” you mumble, squeezing Satoru’s girth tight, which pushes a grunt out of him.

“Yeah?” He laughs, drinking in the way you’re becoming so dumb on your daddy’s cock. Satoru listens to the harsh skin to skin contact, his hips slamming against the flesh of your ass.

“Uh-huh!” A gasp falls from your lips and your eyebrows knit together. “Daddy, my boyfriend’s never made me feel so good…” now that surprises Satoru. You have a boyfriend? Since when?

“You’ve got a boyfriend, sweetheart?” He asks, “you never told me that.” Despite now being aware of your status, his hips don’t stop (even when they should have a while ago)—in fact, quite the opposite; you can feel him getting more aggressive with his thrusts, filling you up.

“Oh! ‘M sorry,” you bury your head back into the pillow below you. “Wanted to introduce you to him, but…” you trail off and your eyes roll to the back of your head, feeling your stomach tighten up the more he goes.

While it is true that you have a boyfriend, he’s not the best. He can’t even make you cum!

“‘S alright, princess, don’t worry.” Satoru’s fingers are digging into your hips, pulling you along with his. “He’s shitty, isn’t he? Daddy makes you feel better, yeah?” And he’s completely right, even he knows it. So you respond in a nod and a whimper.

“Gonna cum, daddy!” You cry out, which makes Satoru grin lazily.

“I know, sweet girl,” he whispers, “cum on daddy’s cock, baby, you can do it.” And in a few moments, you’re gushing all over your dad’s dick, moaning and crying throughout the whole thing while he just keeps fucking you relentlessly, feeling his own release coming just from seeing and hearing you experience your own pleasure.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu Kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #Gojo smut #satoru Gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #Gojo x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader smut #Gojo satoru x reader smut

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scribbles-ink · 8 months

Text

im just thinking what if mike schmidt is the son of the movie's equivalent of henry emily. i had this thought on the way home from the movie at like. 10 pm so at the time it was incoherrent, but im going to expand on it here.

point 1- garrett played a similar role to charlie emily, in that despite being watched over they were both killed by william afton.

p2- in the flashbacks, its very obvious that the entire family is in a place away from society. they're literally in a forest. it wouldn't make sense for william of all people to be there if he wasn't close to the family.

p3- the books and the game mirror eachother, so there is a chance that schmidt could be another fake name, one william recognized because, again, he was a family friend.

p4-what happens when your kid goes missing? idk probaly witness protection or an urge to seperate yourself from the incident, both reasons for the name change.

p5-(kinds joke reason) abby rhymes with charlie and looks similar to her (brown hair, brown eyes)

p6-i argue that abby also took on the role of the puppet/charlie at the end of the movie. she didn't necessarily give them life, not like what was done in the game, she shoeed them how they died. she reminded the children of the life they had before, and of who really took it. by doing that, in a way, she gave them that life back. she gave them their real personality back, one not influenced by william. she cut them from his influence, she gave them the gift (the picture) and it gave them life (their memories)

p7- in the movie, mike says his father 'couldnt deal with it' and left after his mother died. yk what that sounds similar to? book henry emily killing himself in despair. maybe mike's dad is alive maybe he's dead, we dont know. but it is similar enough, an act of completely removing himself from the equation.

p8-book henry has a sister named jen, yk what name that sounds like? jane. who was mike and abby's aunt, and we dont know which parent she was related to.

p9-'but wouldn't mike know about the pizzaria if william was a family friend?' honestly, probably. but theres also a high chance that he wouldnt. if the family lived in nebraska, (which im pretty sure they did) they wouldn't have a need to go to utah, not even for a friend's restaurant. sure, he might know that his dad's friend had a restaurant, but not that it had animatronics or anything. the family probaly moved to utah after garrett's disappearance and after freddy's closed down.

p10-'wouldn't mike know vanessa? theyre similar in age' if they didnt live in the same state, probaly not. william in the movie was a, suprise suprise, shitty father, even foregoing the stabbing of his kid. i doubt hed care enough to take her with him on like. a short out of state trip.

p11(edit)- in the books aunt jane was killed by evil charlie to get to charlie, yk what that sounds like? the animatronics killing aunt jen to get to charlie

p12(edit)-the words at the end of the movie say 'come find me' and the music playong at the end is the puppets song so i think garrett is the puppet which is. again. an emily thing

p13(edit)- mikes dad looks like a mechanic shown in the training videos [cough henry emily cough]

if i think of anything else ill add it but anywys this is why i think the schmidts in the movie are the emilys equivalent. also check out the notes on this post because theres a lot of replies n reblogs that support my theory

#scribbles' post #scribbles' theories #thats a new tag #fnaf theory #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #abby schmidt #garret schmidt #heniry emily #charlotte emily #charlie emily

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januaryembrs · 8 days

Note

Hi!! Could I please order a spicy hot chocolate for Spencer Reid? (Like you know, the ones that people put cayenne pepper in?!)

You’re an incredible writer and human!

BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND | Spencer Reid x Reader

description: your brother brings home his dorky college classmate, Spencer

length: 2.5k

warnings: spicy, SMUT (omg Em attempts smut and even then its pretty tame but why are my hands shaking), minors dni! heed my warnings this is not for you minors!! nipple stuff, mens genitalia mentioned, Spencer and reader get horny for one another oop. I really hope this is okay I've literally written smut once and even then I second guessed myself so much. SEASON ONE GLASSES SPENCE. BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND SPENCE. smut under the cut.

You felt eyes on you without even having to turn where you were stuffing laundry into the washing machine, your face sweaty with the midsummer heat.

“Jesus Christ, you look like Hot Topic threw up on you,” Your brother’s voice resounded as two sets of footsteps entered the kitchen, and someone cleared their throat where you were bent over, denim shorts riding high up your ass cheeks.

Flicking a look over your shoulder, you pulled the spoon full of peanut butter out of your mouth, yanking a headphone out of your ear to address him.

“Don’t shit your pants, dickbrains, it’s all I have until my clothes are clean,” You snapped at Ryan, tongue dancing with the creamy, sweet spread, and your eyes dropped to his left where his best friend fussed over his sweater cuffs, a duffel bag on his back, and your eyes softened as you saw Spencer looking flushed in your kitchen, “Hi, Spence,”

“Hi,” He peeped shyly, and you smiled widely at the obscenely tall boy who had been to your house a number of times. Ryan had met Spencer on the first day of college, or at least his first day. For Spencer, it had been six years already, his third doctorate well underway, and the two had quickly bonded over something dumb and nerdy you’d never bothered to take note of. You clicked the dials on the machine to a low setting, pouring some detergent into the drum and pressing the ‘Start’ button.

“You guys doing homework?” You asked, fixing where your shirt slouched off the side of your shoulder, exposing your lack of bra and baring your collar bones, and you were quick to catch the way Spencer’s hazel hues fell there with something fleeting and guilty in his expression.

“We’re not twelve years old calculating how many watermelons Sally and Jess have all together,” Your brother scoffed, screwing his lips in annoyance, just as much as any twenty year old pumped full of hormones and energy drinks. “We’re writing a paper on thermodynamics; Spencer’s staying over tonight,”

Rolling your eyes at his know it all snark, you pulled a face back at him, despite the fact you were one year older. You looked to his left where Spencer stuffed his hands in his pockets, his cheeks pink as he caught himself like a fly in honey in one of your usual arguments.

“Do you want a drink, Spence?” You offer, ignoring Ryan’s shitty attitude, heading over to the fridge and swinging the door open, your fathers bottles of beer clinking together where they lay flat on the top shelf.

“Soda would be great, please,” Spencer murmured, trying not to stare as you leaned over, those little, black hot pants skirting up so far his face felt feverish and he forced himself to look at the linoleum tiles in a scrambled attempt to control his thoughts.

He felt like a kid again, with a stupid little crush on the older girl who batted her lashes and called him Spence and smiled at him like you knew exactly how you made that big brain of his turn to mush when you spoke to him.

Handing him a Coke, he tried to ignore the way your cold fingers brushed and avoided your gaze at all cost.

“Thankyou,” He said, his voice cracking in the very middle of it in a way that made him feel like a total loser, and he heard you giggle, his neck growing a prickling hot.

Before you could say much else, his friend grabbed his sleeve, tugging him in the direction of his room where you couldn’t bother them anymore.

Spencer was thinking about your laugh the entire afternoon, until they gave up writing and turned to watching Star Trek, the evening air quickly turning humid and dark, and he begged the tightness in his boxers to leave him be for even just a second.

Only, he found no such luck, tortured by the thought of you being just a single flight of stairs away from him.

–

You were doing dishes by the time you heard him again. Assuming it was Ryan, you made no effort to greet him since it usually was only responded with a grunt or cuss anyways.

Except you could tell by the footsteps that were too careful, the presence that was too soft, even by the way he cleared his throat nervously, that it certainly wasn’t your obnoxious brother who had come into the kitchen for a midnight snack.

Whirling around at the sound, Spencer stood on the other side of the dining table you'd been sitting at just a few hours ago eating pasta and listening to your mom recounting her stressful day in the office. Thin, framed glasses perched on his nose, ones you’d never seen before, glinting in the light from the oven as he blinked at you behind the lenses.

“Spence,” You said with a tired smile, eyes dropping to his shirt and plaid trousers, “Cute jammies,”

He paused for a second, looking down to the grey Doctor Who set, a diagram of the TARDIS splayed across his chest, and he blanked when he tried to figure out if you were kidding or being genuine, “Thank you. You too,”

He didn’t know why he’d said it, maybe because that’s just what you do when someone is being kind, except only then did he look at what you were wearing, and impossibly so it was even more scandalous than what you were wearing earlier.

A tank top, if he could even call it that with how far it rode up, and a lacy pair of blush underwear, a pretty white bow resting just below your belly button.

Following his gaze as it devoured your exposed appendage, you grinned at him devilishly, “Sorry, it gets pretty hot in my room at night,”

“Y-yeah I can imagine you-you’re hot,” He stammered, realising what he said when you raised a brow at him, “B-because you’re a floor up, I mean, and heat rises because hot air has a lower particle density than cool air although some physicians believe-”

“I know what you meant, Spence,” You said with a smirk, moving around the table to stand in front of him, your feet padding softly against the cold floor. Looking up at him with a tilted head, you inspected the frames you realised were a mahogany brown now you were close enough to see them properly, you peered past the lenses and right into where his doe eyes stared back at you, skittish and flustered, “Are these new?”

Spencer licked his lips nervously, “I used to wear glasses when I was a kid but now I wear contacts,” He said, rubbing clammy palms over his trousers. He could smell your detergent from here, the same one he’d seen you pour over your laundry just a few hours earlier, ‘Blossom breeze’ or something girly and sweet and floral like that. He didn’t know the brand, but it was entirely intoxicating, except he suspected it had nothing to do with the liquid and more to do with the fact he could see your nipples pressing against your shirt when you stood so close to him, “Girls don’t really think scrawny guys in glasses are.. hot,”

You sniggered, though your brows furrowed the slightest bit, “Who told you that?”

“Lot’s of girls, more than once actually, it’s just kind of common knowledge,” He fumbled, his chest pricking with nerves when your fingers moved up to grip his waist gently, thumbs danced down his hip bones, the gentle touch alone stirring his cock into a painfully hard stance. He gulped, the sound loud in the sombre twilight of the kitchen, and for a guy who had aced every single test he’d ever taken, who played chess against himself for fun to guess his next five moves, Spencer had no clue where he existed outside of your body so close to his, looking at him like he was a puppy begging for treats if he gave paw.

“I think those girls are absolute boneheads if they can’t see how pretty you are, Spence,” You said his name as if it was the only one that had ever mattered, and he couldn’t help how his chest swelled at the sentiment, even if he wasn’t so off guard as to actually believe that. You’d always had this way of making people feel special, he saw it at your family barbecue last Summer, when your cousins flocked around you like you were their Queen Bee, how you seemed to make waiters and waitresses alike flush under your preening smiles and 'please's and 'thankyou's whenever you took Spencer and your brother out for dinner.

“T-thankyou,” He replied after a thick breath, his chest rattling as you pulled him towards your calm figure, and he let himself be guided like he were leashed, “Y-you’re pretty too,”

He wanted to tell you so much more than that, that you were beautiful like all the popular girls at school were, only humble and kind like the golden part of you glittered inside too, except before he could even attempt at expanding on his three pathetic little words he’d stammered through laboured breaths, he effectively got fully disconnected from his brain when you leaned in towards his face and brushed your nose against his, testing the waters.

Your gaze trailed up to his innocently, so close he could feel your minty breaths fanning over his bottom lip, and he guessed you’d already brushed your teeth ready for bed.

“You really think I’m pretty, Spence?” You asked naively, even if he knew it was just because he forgot how to speak when you were too forward, as if you were trying not to spook a deer. He nodded quickly, his eyes zeroing on where your mouth was mere centimetres away from him, one single shiver in his spine and he would be kissing you, and like you’d heard his train of thought, you pushed your lips against his softly, his body jolting with an electric shock.

There could be sirens surrounding the entire house and he would be none the wiser, because in mere seconds his blood was rushing through his eardrums, sounding like radio static, and it was only when he felt the vibration of it against his mouth did he realise you’d whined, and his hands sprung to life, cupping both your cheeks and tugging you closer to his face as if he was clinging onto every second of the feeling.

Spencer groaned, a sound he didn’t even realise he was going to make until he felt your fingers squeeze him lightly, and he snapped back into his body like a hair tie slinging him back into a world where the girl he’d had a teeny, tiny, maddening crush on for months was making out with him in her kitchen.

“‘Gotta be quiet, baby, my parents are asleep,” You said, breathless as you ripped yourself away from him, despite the fact he was insistently pulling you back towards his mouth, and you smiled up at his urgency, “You ever kissed a girl before, Spence?”

He sighed, and you’d never counted him as sassy until you heard it, almost spoiled and bratty now you’d given him a taste of heaven and held it back from him for the sake of small talk.

“Once, at recess in fifth grade, but it wasn’t like this,” He said, yanking you back towards him ravenously, and you let him devour your lips again, grinning into his desperate mouth, “Never been like this,”

You weren’t sure whether he meant himself or what was likely a peck on the lips between kids as a dare, but you didn’t think too hard about it, as you slotted yourself back into his rough hands, calluses on the insides of his right fingertips from the years holding a pen so hard he might just break it. He felt your mouth open, and he followed your lead, your tongue feathering out with a shyness you showed nowhere else. And it was like every single statistic and number and fact about sharing saliva flew out of his head with wanton need as he dove right for the source, the tip of his tongue meeting yours with a warm nudge and he heard you mewl in pleasure.

Spencer didn’t know what had come over him. Only moments ago he’d been too nervous to even look at you in fear of stumbled around a few syllables and calling them words. Yet here he was, his glasses slipping down his nose and pressing against the bridge of your own, your chest pressed so close to him he could feel your nipples pebbling against his TARDIS shirt, and it was like it was then he remembered you had no bottoms on except your panties.

He hooked a hand underneath one of your legs, hiking it up to his waist and pushing even further up against you, the sudden movement making you gasp, your lower back hitting the dining table as his pubic bone ground against the ball of nerves that had been aching since you caught him shuffling around your kitchen in his damn Doctor Who pyjamas.

Sliding his broad fingers up, your skin spread into gooseflesh and it was your turn to become putty under his touch as he bravely grabbed a handful of your arse, though his touch was still light and uncertain if he was crossing any boundaries. The change in position meant you felt yourself leaning back, your spine spreading out like a cat in warm sunlight, and he was quick to accommodate you, ever eager to please as Spencer was, moving away from the warmth of your mouth and kissing his way down to your pulse, the feeling of it making both of you hum on quietened tones in pleasure.

“Why have we never done this before?” You asked breathlessly, your chest rising frantically as you gasped for air, a hushed moan bleeding into your airways.

Spencer held you upright with one of his long arms, thought his mouth devoured a path over your collar bones, heading right for where your breasts lay in wait, and he didn’t even bother trying to remove your top as he kissed over your nipple with hungry, warm lips.

“I dunno, probably because Ryan wouldn’t be too happy with me trying to fuck his sister while he’s eating dinner,” Spencer said without thinking, his tone sharp and witty as ever, like the noises you were making and the desperation in your touch seemed to rewire his thoughts into something overindulged.

But you laughed, loud enough you slapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from waking up the whole house, because you had no idea how you’d explain to them why you and Spencer had ended up half sprawled on the dining table as he practically fixed himself onto every inch of you. And without warning he chuckled too, the vibration blowing over your skin that was already humming with excitement.

“Do you think we could do this more often?” You asked, raising yourself up onto your elbows as his hands spread over your stomach, riding your top up just the smallest bit so he could kiss over your stomach, his pupils blown out into planets behind his glasses, his cheeks tinged raspberry red, his gaze drunken like he was in some sort of sugar rush only ready to stop when he’d gotten his fill, though at the rate he was going Spencer thought that day might not actually come.

You were a drug, a nectar he’d never come close to, and he felt like every kiss to your skin only made that well in his stomach dig deeper and deeper, possibly never running dry as his every thought overflowed with drops of you, and your smell, and your taste, and your tongue.

Missing your lips, he moved back up to your face, crashing his mouth back onto yours as your fingers raked through his hair, the sensation jolting his rod like appendage into you own pelvis, the two of you shivering with the feeling of it.

“I think we can arrange that,” He murmured, and you grinned up at him devilishly as he fiddled with the cotton hem of your underwear nervously, his boldness wearing off as he saw that glint in your eyes that spelled trouble. But he understood that nervous and excitement felt so similar it was easy to mistake one for the other, perhaps even mesh both together at the same time, and the logical explanation for his clammy hands and racing heart seemed to soothe him the slightest bit.

He loved sleepovers at your house.

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