#espresso...now is your chance

[naz-artz]

I have so many dimileth files just sitting in my folders, and I have such guilt over them, and I can't work on them this month because I want to clear out what I do have on my plate already(color wheel meme and...spicy posts). But that being said, having the immense pressure of an audience would help so

[nereidprinc3ss]

strange perfections

in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!

series masterlist

fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses

The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf. 

Stupid scarf, you think. 

Stupid door. 

Stupid wind. 

Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient. 

You look at the stack of papers and sigh. 

Stupid Lord Byron. 

Stupid cafe. 

Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly. 

One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable. 

Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust. 

Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance. 

Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once. 

Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café. 

As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk. 

It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor. 

Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here. 

“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up. 

“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”

The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you. 

“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”

You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that. 

Think of something normal to say!

“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”

You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.

“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”

You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?

“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”

He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing. 

“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”

Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?

But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out. 

“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”

He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles. 

All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go. 

Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone. 

“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot. 

“How did you do that?” 

His cheeks turn slightly pink. 

“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”

“How did you read that fast?”

“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”

You scoff, taking another look through the stack. 

“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”

The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently. 

“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble. 

“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”

“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look. 

“Does that make it better?”

“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”

You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels. 

“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second. 

“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”

“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”

He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself. 

He was totally in love with me. 

And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again. 

All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while. 

The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it. 

I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café. 

What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Hi!”

Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout. 

He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer. 

Spencer. Spencer. 

It feels important. 

“I see you’ve upgraded.”

“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”

“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away. 

Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you. 

Spence. 

Reality sets in. 

“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”

It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk. 

“I am a creature of habit.”

Another wave as he walks away. 

The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way. 

“Who was that?” 

“Uh… I don’t actually know.”

Yeah. Reality definitely sets in. 

Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up. 

Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality. 

Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.

But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character. 

He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination. 

This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression. 

“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”

 Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading. 

Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more. 

“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”

You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?

While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table. 

“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin. 

“Uh… hi?”

“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”

“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”

That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real. 

“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”

“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”

“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”

What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—

“Garcia!”

Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed. 

Adorable? Get a grip. 

“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”

“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges. 

You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?

“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.

“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”

“Yeah! Um, definitely!”

“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”

“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”

“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley. 

Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents. 

So that’s cool. 

You’re cool with that. 

Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer. 

“Hotch?”

“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers. 

“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet. 

Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again. 

You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it. 

Nah. Boys are dumb. 

You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it. 

It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?

But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone. 

He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line. 

Weird.

You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?

“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”

It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it. 

He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second. 

“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”

“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”

“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”

“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”

He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless. 

“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”

It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long. 

“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”

“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”

Your brow furrows and you laugh. 

“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”

“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”

You say it before you can think too hard. 

“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”

And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid. 

After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice. 

One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.

It ceases. And then it starts again. 

Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible. 

“Do you think you should…”

His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air. 

“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”

You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company. 

But his job is important. 

“What if you have a case?”

“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”

Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.   

“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”

As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present. 

“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”

Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer. 

You balk.

“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”

“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”

“Where would this hanging out take place?”

Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits. 

“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”

He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly. 

“Restaurants.”

There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.

“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”

You look down. God, your face feels warm. 

“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”

Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now. 

“I would.” 

More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted. 

Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair. 

“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”

“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”

Spencer chuckles. 

“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”

Not, what?

Not, you’ve never been on a date before?

Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?

With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way. 

He says none of that. 

“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards. 

“Sounds like a good first step.”

Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real. 

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.

“I’d love to.”

He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair. 

“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”

His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute. 

“I should—”

“You definitely need to go.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”

You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper. 

“I don’t—”

“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”

He’s so weird. 

A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go. 

-

part four

[suguae]

Haunted

part one

I tried my best to tag as many people!

The long awaited part two! I'm so sorry if this doesn't live up to your guys expectations! I really felt like so much people were waiting for a part two and I've been so busy, but hopefully you all enjoy!

You were like a shot of espresso, a ray of sunlight and one would be so lucky just to even be in your presence.

That's how he saw it at least. The gummy smile that was glued on your face as you listened to Megumi's silly stories he'd make up just to entertain you.

Wherever you stepped foot, the mood would lighten drastically.

He knew that because if you were here with him right now, Megumi wouldn't be crying his heart out begging his dad to call you. Toji wouldn't be struggling to fall asleep as he looked at your side of the bed imagining you there. He wouldn't be crossing his fingers hoping that every notification on his phone would be you.

"The princess and prince got married and lived happily ever after." You smiled as Megumi watched you close the book in awe. His cheeks were painted with a light pink, "You and Daddy?" You couldn't help but giggle at cute sleepy Megumi.

"No..." You whispered, noticing his eyes getting heavy.

Toji's eyes shifted towards you and his baby boy on the shared bed, Megumi of course having one of his fits and you never being able to say no to him. His heart felt heavy, hearing the cold truth slip from your mouth.

"You've been out of it Fushiguro..."

There he was back to reality in his cold—big office. Standing in front of him was Shiu, his best and his closest employee. "Zenin." Toji corrected which caught Shiu by surprise. Toji was proud to have his wife's last name, yet here he is using his last name.

No wedding ring? Shiu thought to himself, looking at Toji’s empty fingers. But in fact his fingers were not empty, because there sat the dark purple promise ring you had gotten him for your third year anniversary. Shiu smiled to himself, he was moving on—for the better. 

“You and Y/n are doing better, I guess?” He sighs, taking a couple steps towards his boss’s desk and plopping himself on the chair in front of him. His smile fading hearing the vague no, coming from his boss. 

“She left actually, but it’s better this way.” 

“Is it?” 

“No, it’s not.” You smiled as the soft yellow light from the candle illuminated onto your face. How Toji’s heart melted when he saw that little sparkle in your eyes. “I actually love kids.” Your eyes shifted to the little stroller after Toji mentioned how stupid it was to try to go on dates as he had a whole baby. 

“It’s been rough ever since my wife passed.” 

He remembers that look on your face when he told you how recently his wife had passed. It was the first date, he brought his son and mentioned his dead wife. There was no way he would ever see you again after that. But he was wrong because you always found your way back.

“Daddy—gumi hungry!” The little boy pouted as Toji noticed the burning smell of the food. It had been way too much now, spacing out every chance he had just to think about you.

Where are you?

Are you okay?

He wonders if you’re doing better now that you left him.

Probably, right?

Wrong.

“You need to clean this place up, it’s a mess y/n.” Your mom says entering your small apartment. The tiny cans of energy drinks scattered around the place, tissues and a pile of blankets on the couch.

She sighed watching your frail body sit up from the couch, her arm wrapped around your body and she placed small kisses on your forehead.

“It’s gonna take a while to get back on his feet. When your father passed away, it took years for me to officially realize that he was gone y/n.”

That’s what hurt the most, how long was Toji willing to take to realize? What if he forgets about you?

“Go back to your daily life, my baby he will call you when he’s ready. I see the love in his eyes.” She smiled once more before bringing you closer in her embrace.

This is what you needed.

The embrace of someone else’s while your life was slowly changing.

His thumb hovered over your contact. His hands shaking as the tears swell in his eyes. It’s been well over six months since the break up.

Toji was more than ready.

He was just afraid now, afraid of the fact that the women he had a past with moved on and would reject his return.

His thumb firmly pressing the dial button as he brings his phone up towards his ear. He could feel his throat closing and his stomach churning.

“Hello?”

<- previous next part ->

taglist: @ssc7514@utarts@my1guilty1pleasures@bangchansthings@nxxun-blog@sidelnes@khaleesihavilliard@wr4inn@r0ckst4rjk@iwishigotswallowed@ryumurin@traacy-lin@aikori6@slowlyswimmingmoon@mikyapixie@dreamlessnight@maliakealoha

[reidmarieprentiss]

Red: Part One

Summary: Spencer, in need of a break, finds himself at a quiet bar where he meets you. What starts as a chance encounter quickly turns into something deeper as the two of you fall for each other. Though your connection is undeniable, both of you struggle with opening up fully, each holding onto personal secrets that linger just beneath the surface. As you grow closer, the trust builds slowly but surely, but what truths are you both holding back? And how will they shape the relationship that’s blossoming between you?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, smut (18+)

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, alcohol consumption, mild withholding of information, season 7 Spencer, this is just so fluffy

Word count: 23.5k

a/n: i am deeply obsessed with these two and i am sooo excited to continue writing for them !!! part two on the wayyy — unedited NEVER be afraid to call me out!!

also so silly but in this gif mgg has pen ink on his hand and that makes me happy

main masterlist part two

Additional warnings: handjob, fingering, grinding, mild breast play

Spencer had his eyes half-closed, nursing his second beer of the evening, the slight buzz in his head both surprising and, in a strange way, comforting. It wasn’t often that he sought out a bar, let alone one like this—a dimly lit, almost hidden speakeasy. The soft, jazzy notes of a piano floated through the air, merging with the quiet hum of voices around him. He liked that no one recognized him here, no one pried, no one asked questions. He could just be.

As he took another slow sip, he felt the weight of the stool next to him shift. Someone had slid into the seat beside him. He didn’t glance over immediately, his mind too cluttered to bother with pleasantries. The cases were piling up like unsorted files in his head, all demanding his attention. His mother’s health was deteriorating again, and the migraines that had haunted him for years had made a sudden, unwelcome return. 

For a moment, he regretted not finishing the bottle of aspirin in his bag before entering the bar. But the alcohol was doing its job, numbing the edge just enough to make the night bearable. It wasn’t about getting drunk—he knew he wouldn’t let himself go that far—but it was about finding just enough peace to ease the constant pressure in his head, even if only for a few hours. Spencer closed his eyes briefly, taking in a deep breath, the smell of wood and faint whiskey lingering in the air.

Spencer’s gaze lingered on the woman beside him, unable to tear his eyes away just yet. She looked like she had walked straight out of another world, her style effortlessly unique, her red boots and gingham shorts standing out against the muted tones of the dimly lit bar. There was something about her that drew him in, despite her stoic expression—an air of mystery, as though she held a universe inside her that she wasn’t quite ready to share with anyone.

The bartender slid the espresso martini in front of her, and she barely acknowledged it, her mind clearly elsewhere. Spencer wondered what she was thinking about, what troubles weighed on her. He sympathized, his own mind heavy with stress and worry. He almost felt a kinship with her, like they were both sitting here, burdened by their own worlds, trying to find some fleeting solace in the bottom of a glass.

The scent of her—something sweet, with a hint of spice—drifted toward him. It was a calming scent, one that made him close his eyes for a second longer, hoping it would ease the pounding in his skull. He couldn't help but think that her smile, if she ever chose to reveal it, would be the kind of smile that would light up the darkest corners of a room. 

He wondered if it might also help alleviate the growing tension in his mind, the tight grip of his migraine loosening just at the thought. For now, though, the smell of her perfume was enough to dull the ache, if only a little. 

"Espresso martini, huh?" Spencer asked, his voice soft, not wanting to intrude too much but also not wanting to remain silent any longer. "Interesting choice for a Wednesday night."

The woman turned her head slightly, glancing at him with a raised brow, as though surprised anyone had spoken to her. For a second, Spencer worried he had overstepped, but then her lips twitched—not quite a smile, but enough to make him feel like maybe, just maybe, he had said something right.

"Not going to sleep anyway," you shrugged with a tired laugh, your voice carrying a hint of exhaustion but also nonchalance. "Might as well get a drink I enjoy, right?" You wrapped your fingers around the stem of the glass, feeling the cool condensation against your skin, but your eyes flickered over to the man beside you. 

Usually, you wouldn’t engage with random men at a bar, especially not on a Wednesday night when the world seemed to blur together in monotony. But something about this one had caught your attention. He wasn’t like the others who sometimes tried too hard or made themselves too loud. He was quiet, unassuming, and there was a weight in his eyes that matched your own. 

He was handsome, yes—remarkably so. His sharp, angular features made him look almost statuesque, but there was a softness to him too, something that balanced out the hard edges. It wasn’t just in his face, though. It was in the way he held himself, a little slouched, as if the world rested on his shoulders. There was something vulnerable about him, and that vulnerability intrigued you. 

You weren't the type to make conversation with a stranger, but maybe it was the exhaustion that made you let your guard down, or maybe it was the way his gaze had softened when he glanced at you, as if he understood something about you without needing to ask. Whatever it was, you found yourself more open to this brief encounter than you normally would be.

He smiled slightly, almost imperceptibly, as if he wasn’t sure how to respond to your casual remark, but you noticed. It was a small gesture, but you appreciated it—more than you had expected to. 

"Fair enough," he finally replied, his voice low but gentle, as though he was trying not to disturb the delicate balance of the quiet between you two. He took a sip of his drink, his fingers tapping lightly against the glass, a subtle rhythm that seemed to mimic the thoughts racing through his mind.

For a moment, the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, and you wondered if he, like you, had found some kind of unexpected solace in this quiet corner of the bar.

The man spoke again after a beat, his voice soft and almost hesitant, “Spencer.” He offered a small, almost boyish smile that contrasted with the sharp lines of his face.

You turned your body more toward him, your interest piqued by his somewhat awkward yet endearing demeanor. “Y/N,” you replied, returning the smile, though still guarded. 

There was a brief pause, and then Spencer’s eyes lit up, as though something had clicked in his mind. “Did you know that your name, Y/N, has roots that trace back to—” He launched into a surprisingly detailed explanation of the origins and historical significance of your name, mentioning various cultures and meanings, weaving in obscure facts that you had never even thought about.

As he spoke, you felt a mix of emotions. On the one hand, it was oddly charming, the way he seemed so genuinely excited to share what he knew. He made you feel special, like your name was something worthy of deep analysis and thought, and you couldn't help but be flattered by it. But there was also something that put you a little on edge—the way he seemed to know so much, like he had all this information tucked away in his mind, ready to be shared at any given moment.

“I did not know that…” you admitted slowly, your voice a touch wary, even as you tried to keep your tone light. “Why do you?”

Spencer hesitated for a second, his smile faltering just slightly before he answered. “I, uh… I tend to remember things. I read a lot, so I guess some of it sticks.”

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a skeptical look. “Just ‘some’ of it?” 

He let out a small, nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, maybe more than some. I’m kind of a… well, I guess you could say I’m a bit of an overthinker.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” you said with a grin, feeling the tension ease slightly between you. “But it’s not a bad thing. Just… surprising.”

Spencer nodded, his posture relaxing a little, as if your comment reassured him. “Surprising in a good way, I hope.”

You shrugged playfully, leaning back slightly in your seat. “I’ll let you know.”

Spencer liked this. You were cautious, guarded in a way that suggested a sharp mind, the kind of intellect that naturally set boundaries when it came to engaging with strangers. Yet, despite your reservation, you kept your wits about you, maintaining a balance of good manners and a sense of humor that was both disarming and refreshing. It made you even more intriguing.

There was something undeniably endearing about the way you interacted—enigmatic and charming, with a touch of playfulness that made him want to keep the conversation going. Spencer found himself wanting to know more, to understand what made you tick in the same way he often tried to solve the puzzles in his own head.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Spencer said during a brief lull in conversation, his tone gentle yet curious, “what brings you to a bar in the middle of the week?”

You squinted your eyes at him playfully, the corner of your lips quirking up in amusement. “I could ask you the same.”

He couldn’t help but smile at your response, appreciating how easily you turned the question back on him, challenging him to reveal his reasons first. It was a fair trade, after all.

"Touché," he conceded, leaning back slightly, considering his answer for a moment. "I guess I just needed a break… from everything. Sometimes it feels like things are piling up and... well, it was either come here or keep staring at the ceiling of my apartment."

You nodded in understanding, your expression softening just a bit. “Yeah, I get that. Sometimes you need to step away from everything and just… exist for a little while, right?”

"Exactly," Spencer replied, relieved that you seemed to understand without him having to explain too much. "And you?"

You tapped your fingers thoughtfully on the bar for a moment before answering, your eyes drifting toward the half-finished martini in front of you. “Same, I guess. Life’s complicated, and sometimes you just want to sit in a quiet corner and let the world pass you by for a while. Maybe with a drink that makes it a little easier to forget."

Spencer nodded, the quiet between you settling into something more comfortable. There was no need for either of you to dive too deeply into your respective reasons for being here. The understanding was enough for now. Two strangers, sitting side by side, momentarily finding solace in each other’s presence without demanding too much.

“I’m glad I picked this bar,” Spencer said quietly, after a pause. “It’s… different. Quiet.”

You smiled softly, taking a sip of your drink. “Yeah, me too. Good choice.”

“Have you... have you been here before?” Spencer asked, his curiosity evident as he glanced at you, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass.

You shook your head, setting down your now-empty glass and signaling the bartender for another drink. “No, actually. I saw it when I moved here, figured tonight was as good a time as any to check it out.” 

Spencer couldn’t help but smile at the coincidence. He wasn’t a man who often gave weight to fate or spiritual ideas—his mind preferred the concrete, the logical—but the fact that both of you ended up here on a quiet Wednesday night, for the first time, sharing an unspoken sense of heaviness... It felt like one of those rare moments that made him pause, as though something bigger was at play. 

He smiled again, this time a little more openly. “I haven’t been here either. A friend told me about it. He, uh, likes to come here to meet women—said they’re more sophisticated than the ones he usually meets at clubs.”

You raised an eyebrow, your amusement clear as you leaned in slightly, your tone playful. “Are you, too, here to meet women?”

Spencer felt his face flush instantly, his eyes widening as he waved his hands in front of him, clearly flustered. “No! No, that’s not—” He cleared his throat, regaining a bit of composure, though the faint blush remained. “That’s not why I’m here. I just... needed a break, like I said.”

“Right... and that's why you're talking to the only single woman here,” you teased, gesturing around the dimly lit room with a playful glint in your eye. Spencer, caught off guard by the comment, blinked and glanced around for the first time since he’d sat down. 

To his surprise—and slight embarrassment—you were right. The bar, small and intimate as it was, seemed to be filled mostly with couples. A few groups of friends sat scattered around, but there wasn’t another woman sitting alone at the bar. He hadn’t even noticed, too caught up in his own thoughts, and of course, in you.

A flush of pink crept up his neck again, a small, awkward smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he faced you once more. “I—uh... that wasn’t... I didn’t even notice,” he stammered, clearly flustered, his eyes darting to his half-finished beer in front of him. 

You laughed softly, amused by how easily Spencer was thrown off by your teasing. There was something so endearing about the way he fumbled through conversations like this, so unlike most men you’d met before. He wasn’t trying to be smooth or overly confident, just... honest. 

“Well, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt,” you said with a grin. 

“Thank you,” he sighed. There was a beat of silence before Spencer added, “But, uh, for the record... I’m not here to meet women. You just happened to be... well... someone worth talking to.”

Your smile softened at his admission, feeling the sincerity in his words. You weren’t used to hearing that kind of candidness from someone so quickly. "Well, aren't I lucky?" you teased lightly, though your tone had a hint of warmth behind it.

Spencer’s chuckle had a softness to it, but his next words seemed to strike a different chord. "Luck is relative," he mused, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. Then he glanced up at you, his eyes searching your face with that same genuine curiosity. "Do you feel lucky?"

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. His question seemed layered, and though you could sense the sincerity in his tone, the implication sounded... different to your ears. The way he asked it, with a certain intensity, made your mind wander to a more flirtatious place, a suggestion hanging between the lines. You had met men who approached conversations like this before, but there was something about Spencer’s awkward charm that made you hesitate to dismiss it outright.

For a moment, you thought about how you'd respond. You weren’t opposed to the idea of letting this man take you home, not at all. There was something about his presence that felt comforting, something about his awkward nature that drew you in. But you weren’t going to make it that easy. You enjoyed the chase, the cat-and-mouse game that kept things interesting. 

You leaned in slightly, narrowing your eyes just enough to add a playful edge to your expression. "Lucky, huh?" You swirled the last of your martini in its glass, watching the liquid shift before locking eyes with him. “Depends on what kind of luck we’re talking about.”

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, clearly misunderstanding the subtle shift in your tone. "Oh," he stammered, clearly flustered. "I didn’t mean—uh, I wasn’t implying—"

You bit back a grin, enjoying watching him try to backtrack from what he thought was a misstep. "Relax, Spencer," you said softly, your tone more teasing now. "I know what you meant."

Spencer visibly exhaled, relief washing over his face. He wasn’t used to playing these kinds of games, that much was clear. But there was something about how genuine he was that made you want to keep him on his toes just a little longer.

You smiled, leaning back in your seat. "I guess I’m still figuring out whether I feel lucky tonight." You raised your glass slightly toward him, your eyes twinkling. “Maybe we’ll see.”

Spencer had relaxed as the two of you joked and bantered, and you noticed how much more comfortable he seemed, especially when he started showing you some of his magic tricks. It was charming, really—how this incredibly intelligent, slightly awkward man had such a whimsical side. You watched with genuine curiosity as he produced and shuffled a deck of cards with ease, his long fingers moving expertly. 

But it was when he asked if you had a business card that really caught your attention. You furrowed your brow and shook your head. “No, but I do have a scrap piece of paper,” you said, pulling a folded-up slip from your bag.

Spencer took the paper with a playful smile, and with a quick flourish of his hands, it disappeared as if it had never existed at all. You blinked, leaning forward, impressed despite yourself. "Okay, I have to admit, that was good. Where’d it go?"

He grinned, clearly pleased with your reaction. “A good magician never reveals their secrets.”

You laughed, thinking how absolutely adorable he was. There was something boyish and pure about the way he took joy in the simple act of performing a trick, like he’d just made your night a little brighter. 

Absently, you went to brush a hand over the necklace around your neck, a habit you hadn’t even realized you had. But when your fingers grazed the pendant, you felt something unfamiliar—something other than the smooth metal of your necklace. 

Frowning, you looked down. And there, dangling from your pendant, was the very same scrap of paper Spencer had taken. Your eyes widened in surprise, a burst of giddy laughter escaping your lips as you grabbed the piece of paper, utterly amazed.

You turned to Spencer, wide-eyed and full of wonder. “How did you—?!” You couldn’t even finish the sentence, your head shaking in disbelief, giggles bubbling up uncontrollably. He really had caught you off guard, and it felt... magical.

Spencer, looking very proud of himself, leaned back with a self-satisfied smile, clearly enjoying your reaction. He glanced pointedly at the scrap of paper in your hand, raising an eyebrow as if to say, take a closer look.

Curious, you followed his gaze and unfolded the small piece of paper. Scrawled across it in Spencer's neat handwriting was a number. His number. 

You glanced up at him, meeting his gaze with a playful smirk and a flutter of excitement. "So... was this part of the trick too?"

Spencer shrugged, his smile a little bashful now.  

“How many times have you used that trick on women?” you teased, leaning in a little closer, your voice soft and teasing. “And how many times has it worked?”

Spencer blushed again, the pink flush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. He shifted in his seat, clearly flustered by your question but still holding your gaze. “I... I used it one other time,” he admitted, his voice a bit shaky. “And it worked... sort of. But, um, it never led to anything.” 

You smiled, leaning back slightly, enjoying how disarmed he was by your teasing. There was something so genuine about the way he interacted, like he wasn’t used to these kinds of moments—at least not often. He wasn’t the type to use smooth lines or rehearsed tricks to impress women, and that made him stand out even more.

“Well, I’m glad I could be the second one,” you said with a wink, letting the playful tension between you simmer. “But something tells me you’re hoping it leads to more this time.”

Spencer swallowed, clearly thrown off by your forwardness, but you could see the slight shift in his posture, the way his confidence grew just a little as he realized you were genuinely interested. “I, uh... I wouldn’t mind that,” he admitted, his eyes flickering from yours to the glass in front of him, then back again. “But I didn’t show you the trick just for that. I wanted to... impress you.”

Your heart fluttered at his honesty. It was so rare to meet someone who was so upfront, so unguarded in moments like this. You couldn’t help but find it endearing, and you leaned in once more, your smile softening.

“Well, you definitely impressed me, Spencer,” you said, your voice low and sincere. “And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll let you show me another trick later.”

Spencer’s eyes widened a little at that, and for a moment, you could see the wheels turning in his head. He was calculating, thinking, but also clearly intrigued by the promise hidden in your words. He gave a small, nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I guess we’ll see how lucky I get tonight,” he murmured, the blush still lingering on his face but his smile growing more confident now.

You grinned, knowing full well that he didn’t realize just how lucky he was about to get.

As the bar's lights dimmed and the final patrons shuffled out, you already knew you weren’t going home tonight. The air between you and Spencer had been crackling all evening, and the decision seemed inevitable, even as you lingered at the bar for just a moment longer.

Spencer, ever the gentleman, graciously paid for both of your tabs without hesitation. The bartender, who had seemed less than impressed by your modest drinking habits, shot him a look that Spencer either didn’t notice or chose to ignore. After all, this night was about more than just drinks.

Walking out into the brisk night air, you and Spencer moved shoulder to shoulder, your steps naturally falling in sync as if you'd been walking together for much longer than a few hours. The quiet of the evening surrounded you, the distant hum of the city softening the world around you, and the moment felt intimate in a way you hadn’t expected. You could feel the warmth of his presence next to you, the subtle brush of his arm against yours sending sparks up your skin.

Feeling bold, Spencer glanced over at you, his usual shyness tempered by something else—perhaps the electricity that had been building between you all night, or maybe just the quiet courage that sometimes came with these fleeting, late-night encounters. "Can I give you a ride home?" he offered, his voice softer now, as though he didn’t want to shatter the stillness of the moment.

You smiled up at him, a knowing look in your eyes as you accepted. Spencer’s posture straightened slightly, his eyes lighting up as he guided you toward his car. True to his nature, he opened the door for you, his touch gentle as he gestured for you to climb in. You couldn’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness, watching as he quickly walked around to the driver’s side and slid into his seat.

He fidgeted for a moment behind the wheel, his hands gripping the steering wheel loosely as he glanced at you, clearly waiting for directions. “Where should I take you?” he asked, his voice still carrying that sweet, earnest tone.

You met his gaze, your eyes sparkling with both amusement and intent. "Wherever you're going," you replied, your words hanging in the air, full of unspoken promise.

Spencer blinked, taken aback for just a split second, but then understanding settled over him. He glanced down, a small, shy smile tugging at his lips, and you could see the faintest hint of color creeping into his cheeks. There was a brief pause as he weighed his options, but the decision was already made—you could feel it.

"Alright," he said, his voice quiet but full of meaning. "My place it is."

Spencer was a bundle of nerves. The whole drive back, he had rambled—nervous energy pouring out of him in the form of random facts, mostly about the risks of going home with strangers. He’d listed statistics about crime rates, recounted famous cases of mishaps, and even delved into behavioral patterns associated with dangerous encounters. It was almost endearing, the way he was so clearly overthinking the situation.

"Are you going to kill me?" you had asked him at one point, half-joking, hoping to lighten the mood.

His response had been immediate and emphatic. "No, absolutely not! I—I would never do anything like that," he stammered, his eyes wide and sincere. "Statistically, it’s much safer—"

You laughed, cutting him off gently. "I believe you, Spencer."

His relief was palpable, though he still hadn’t fully relaxed, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary. And now, as he fumbled with his keys at the front door, you saw how his fingers trembled slightly as he tried to get the lock open. His nervousness was so genuine, so utterly sweet, that you couldn’t help but feel a warmth bloom inside you.

It was obvious he didn’t do this sort of thing often, and that made you feel... special. He was just himself—nervous, brilliant, and genuine—and that vulnerability drew you in even more. 

Finally, after a moment of fumbling, the door clicked open, and Spencer gestured for you to step inside, his cheeks still slightly flushed. "Sorry about that," he murmured, a small, sheepish smile on his lips. "I don’t usually have... company."

When Spencer led you through the front door, the first thing that hit you was the cozy, dark atmosphere of his apartment. Books lined almost every available surface, stacked neatly on shelves and piled in corners in a way that suggested they were well-loved and frequently revisited. The space had an old-world charm, a lived-in feeling that instantly put you at ease. The warm lighting and the faint smell of coffee mixed with old pages added to the inviting ambiance. It was unmistakably his—a reflection of the man you’d spent the evening getting to know, both brilliant and a little awkward.

You couldn’t help but smile, charmed by the intimate, intellectual space he called home. It was entirely different from the sleek, modern apartments of other men you’d been with, and that difference made you like it even more.

You smiled softly, stepping into the warmth of his home. "It’s fine," you assured him. "I like it here. It’s... very you."

Spencer’s eyes flickered with a mixture of surprise and gratitude, as though he hadn’t expected you to say something so kind. His shoulders seemed to relax just a little, and he gave you a nervous but genuine smile.

“Thank you,” Spencer said, his smile sweet but clearly nervous as his hands fumbled slightly in front of him. He took a breath, trying to compose himself, but the words tumbled out anyway. “So... um, I know what usually happens in these scenarios, but I don’t want to be presumptuous—not that I’m expecting anything from you either, but I guess, I’m wondering what, uh... what you want here?”

You could see how flustered he was, the way his uncertainty mixed with his genuine desire to be respectful. It made your heart swell, your affection for him deepening in that moment. His awkward honesty was refreshing, and you adored the way he was so transparently himself, not hiding behind bravado or assumptions.

Stepping closer to him, you reached out, your hands moving up his chest slowly, feeling the warmth of his body through his shirt. You let your fingers trail lightly over him before wrapping them around the back of his neck, pulling yourself just a little closer. Spencer’s breath hitched, his eyes widening as he looked down at you, a mixture of surprise and anticipation flickering in his gaze.

“Well, Spencer,” you said softly, your voice gentle but teasing, “I would like to do what usually happens in these scenarios...”

His eyes searched yours, his body tense with uncertainty and excitement, but before he could speak, you added, “But we don’t have to do anything.”

Spencer blinked, processing your words. The tension in his shoulders seemed to melt just a little as he realized that the choice was mutual, that there was no pressure, no expectations. You were giving him the space to decide, and that made all the difference.

He swallowed, his voice quiet but full of sincerity. “I... I’d like that too. But only if you're sure.”

You smiled up at him, your thumb gently stroking the back of his neck. “I’m sure, Spencer. But if you’re not ready or don’t want to—”

“No,” he said quickly, then softened his tone. “No, I want to. I just... I didn’t want to assume and I–well, I haven’t done a lot before.”

Your smile widened, and you leaned in a little closer, your breath warm against his skin as you whispered, “You’re sweet, you know that?”

Spencer’s blush deepened, but he smiled, more comfortable now as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace. “I don’t hear that often,” he admitted softly.

“Well, you should,” you murmured, before closing the small distance between you and pressing your lips to his in a slow, tender kiss.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as though Spencer was still processing that this was really happening. But then his grip around you tightened slightly, and you could feel him relax into it, his lips moving with yours, the kiss deepening as the warmth between you two grew.

For a moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped in the quiet intimacy of his apartment, the world outside forgotten. And in that moment, everything felt perfectly right.

You gently pulled back from the kiss, feeling the way Spencer’s lips lingered for just a moment, his eyes still shut as though he wasn’t ready for the moment to end. He followed your movement with a soft, almost unconscious pout, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. 

“Easy,” you whispered, your voice laced with affection, as your fingers trailed up into his soft hair, stroking it gently. You wanted him to feel as comfortable as possible. He was clearly nervous, but the way he responded to you, how earnest he was in everything he did, made you want to handle him with the care he deserved. 

“What are you comfortable with, Spencer?” you asked softly, your tone reassuring, trying to ease the tension in the air. “I don’t want to push you too far, or do anything you’re not ready for.”

Spencer took a deep, grounding breath, his chest rising and falling as he gathered the courage to speak. His blush deepened, his cheeks flushing a bright pink as he met your eyes. “Um… I haven’t had anything, uh, penetrative,” he confessed, his voice almost a whisper as if admitting something deeply personal. He swallowed, clearly feeling the weight of the moment. “But… I have been touched. And I have touched.”

Your heart softened at his vulnerability, and you felt a wave of tenderness wash over you. He was sharing something intimate, and the way he trusted you enough to be honest about it made you want to hold him even closer. 

“That’s okay, Spencer,” you said gently, your thumb brushing against his jawline in a soothing gesture. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. We can take things as slow as you need.”

He nodded, looking relieved that you weren’t pressuring him. “I… I want to try,” he admitted, his voice quiet but firm. “I trust you.”

Your heart swelled at his words. You smiled softly, leaning in to kiss him again, this time slower, more deliberate, allowing him to guide the pace. Spencer responded, his lips moving with yours, his hands resting tentatively on your hips as he began to relax into the moment.

“We’ll take it slow,” you whispered against his lips, reassuring him once more. “And you tell me if you want to stop, okay?”

He nodded again, his eyes meeting yours with gratitude and something else—something more. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice barely audible as his hands tightened just slightly around your waist, pulling you closer. 

“Take me to your bedroom, Spencer,” you whispered against his lips, the warmth of your breath sending shivers down his spine. He nodded, his lips still brushing against yours as he took your hand and led you toward his room. The eagerness in his movements was evident as you both bumped into walls and knocked over small tables along the way, which made you giggle.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Don’t be sorry, stud,” you teased, your voice playful but laced with affection. “I like how eager you are. It makes me feel desired.”

Spencer flicked on the bedside lamp, the soft glow filling the room and casting warm, golden hues across the walls. The light bathed you in a way that made you look even more radiant, as though the glow itself was drawn to your beauty. Spencer paused for a moment, standing there in awe of you, his eyes wide with admiration.

“You are desired,” he said earnestly, his voice filled with sincerity. “So gorgeous, Y/N.”

His words made your heart swell. You could hear how much he meant it, how genuine his feelings were. Spencer wasn’t trying to impress you; he was simply telling you the truth as he saw it. And in that moment, you found yourself falling just a little for him.

“Sweet, sweet Spencer…” you whispered, smiling softly at the endearing man before you. Your fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt, slowly undoing them one by one. As the fabric parted, you kissed the newly exposed skin—his neck, his collarbone, the center of his chest—your lips leaving a trail of warmth with each touch.

You could feel Spencer’s stomach rising and falling rapidly beneath your fingertips, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as he struggled to keep his composure. He was nervous, that much was clear, but you could also see the way his body responded to your touch, the way his eyes darkened with desire.

“Relax,” you sighed gently against his skin, your lips brushing softly over his collarbone. “You’re beautiful.”

The compliment made him freeze for a moment, and you could tell it wasn’t something he was used to hearing. His breath hitched as you kissed his chest, your hands sliding the fabric of his shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

Spencer swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly as he raised them to your waist, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your clothes. “I… I just don’t want to mess this up,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You won’t,” you reassured him, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his neck. “We’re just here, together. That’s all that matters.”

His eyes softened at your words, and slowly, the tension in his body seemed to ebb away, replaced by a quiet confidence. He reached up, his hands moving more purposefully now as he gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“Okay,” he whispered, his voice steadying as he leaned down to kiss you again, this time with a little more certainty, a little more control.

And in the quiet of his room, surrounded by nothing but the soft light and the gentle hum of your shared breaths, you felt completely and utterly desired.

"Do you want to take my shirt off, Spencer?" you whispered softly against his ear, letting your tongue graze the sensitive skin just beneath it. You felt the shudder run through his body as he nodded quickly, his breathing heavy, eyes still tightly shut as if the weight of the moment was too much to handle.

You giggled softly, charmed by his inexperience and how deeply he seemed affected by every touch, every breath. Gently, you took his large hands in yours, guiding them to the hem of your shirt. His fingers trembled slightly, but you could feel his eagerness beneath that nervous exterior. Slowly, he gripped the fabric, carefully lifting it up, still with his eyes squeezed shut, even as he let the garment drop to the floor beside you.

"Spencer..." you whispered, your voice sweet but laced with a hint of amusement. You couldn’t help but notice how his hands had frozen in mid-air, his fingers hovering, unsure of what to do next. His body was clearly responding to the moment, but his mind was racing, overwhelmed.

"You can open your eyes," you encouraged, leaning forward just slightly to nudge him out of his hesitation, your lips brushing his jawline.

Very slowly, Spencer cracked his eyelids open, his breath hitching as he adjusted to the reality of the situation. But the moment he caught sight of your bare chest, his eyes flew open wide, surprise and awe etched across his face.

He blinked, clearly taken aback by the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra. His lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. His gaze flickered between your eyes and your chest, as though he were trying to process everything all at once. His expression was a mix of innocence and desire, and it was clear that this moment was overwhelming him in the best way possible.

You could feel the intensity of his gaze, and the way his hands, still trembling slightly, hovered just inches from your skin. “It’s okay,” you whispered softly, guiding his hands to your sides, encouraging him to touch you. “You can touch me, Spencer.”

His breath caught in his throat, but this time, he didn’t pull back. His hands, once hesitant, now slid up your sides, gently grasping your breasts in his hands. His touch was reverent, almost like he couldn’t believe this was happening as he ran his thumbs over your nipples. There was something so pure, so unguarded about the way he looked at you, as though you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“You’re...” he started, his voice rough with emotion. “You’re stunning.”

Your heart swelled at the sincerity in his words. You smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly, pressing your body against his. "So are you, Spencer."

You kept kissing him, your lips moving against his with just enough pressure to hopefully distract him from whatever whirlwind of thoughts his brilliant mind was racing through. You were learning he tended to overthink, and you wanted to help him focus on the moment, on the way your bodies were reacting to one another rather than on whatever internal dialogue was playing out in his head.

Your hands moved down to his belt, working on the buckle with ease. You could feel his breathing pick up as you undid it, but instead of pulling away or tensing up, his hands stayed on your breasts. His fingers squeezed you, almost like he was using you to ground himself, holding you tighter than before, as if trying to anchor himself in the moment. The sensation sent a wave of pleasure through you, and without hesitation, you moaned softly into his mouth.

The sound surprised Spencer, his entire body responding to it. He froze for just a second, his mind catching up with what had just happened. It wasn’t just the physical sensation that had gotten to him—it was the realization that he had made you feel that way. The knowledge seemed to set something off inside him, a surge of wonder and hunger, like he was teetering on the edge of something completely new.

As you undid the button of his pants, letting them fall to the floor, you gently nudged him to step out of his loafers and slacks, which he did, albeit a little awkwardly. Spencer pulled back slightly, glancing down at himself, standing in nothing but his tented purple boxers. He shifted on his feet, clearly still feeling self-conscious despite everything.

“I’m feeling a clothing disparity here,” he tried to joke, though his voice came out more nervous than playful.

You giggled softly at his attempt to lighten the moment, appreciating how vulnerable he was being, even in his nervousness. "I can fix that," you teased, hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your bottoms. With a fluid motion, you slipped off your boots, followed by the rest of your clothes, leaving the small pile of fabric on the floor as you stood fully bare before him.

The room seemed to grow quieter for a second, the air thick with anticipation. Spencer’s gaze moved over your body slowly, taking in every inch of your skin with an almost reverent look. His breath hitched again, his hands hanging at his sides as if he didn’t know what to do next.

You smiled, stepping closer to him, your fingers trailing lightly along his chest, leaning in to press your body against his, feeling the heat between you intensify. "Now... let's see what else we can do about that disparity." 

Your hands slid lower, brushing against the waistband of Spencer’s boxers as you tried to ease them down, but there was a bit of resistance—a clear obstruction that made the two of you stumble into a fit of giggles. Some of the nervous tension between you both lifted in that moment, replaced by the kind of playful energy that made everything feel lighter, more natural.

“Well, sir,” you said in an exaggerated, mock-serious voice, stepping back slightly to assess the situation, “it seems as if something has blocked my path.”

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh, a full, hearty sound that spilled out of him, the kind that seemed to release the last of his nervousness. His shoulders shook with amusement as he looked at you, shaking his head. “My deepest apologies, ma’am,” he replied, playing along with a grin that stretched across his face. “Allow me to be of service.”

You watched as he reached down, fumbling a bit with his boxers before finally managing to remove them, kicking them aside with a sheepish smile. His face was still flushed, but now it was more from laughter than nerves, and the atmosphere between you shifted again, becoming more comfortable, more intimate.

“Better,” you teased, your playful tone returning, stepping close enough for your bare skin to brush against his. You placed your hands on his chest, your fingers spreading out to feel the warmth of his body beneath your touch. Spencer’s breath caught in his throat again, but this time it wasn’t out of anxiety—it was pure desire.

You noticed the subtle shift in Spencer’s eyes—something deeper, more focused. The playful energy between you had served its purpose, helping him relax, but now you knew it was time to stop teasing and really show him how much you wanted him. The way he looked at you, still unsure but no longer nervous, told you he was ready to explore this new territory, even if he didn’t quite know where it was going.

With a gentle but deliberate push, you guided him back onto the bed, watching the way he looked up at you, his breath quickening. You moved after him with purpose, your movements slow and deliberate as you crawled toward him, like a wolf stalking its prey. Spencer scooted back to the pillows, his eyes locked on yours, his uncertainty fading into quiet anticipation.

His gaze flickered as you settled in closer, your knees on either side of his hips. His chest was rising and falling more rapidly now, his hands resting by his sides as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. You could see he was still processing everything, still trusting you to lead him through this.

“I’m going to touch you now,” you said softly, your voice a quiet promise. You let your hands trail up his thighs, your fingers brushing through the soft hair there, feeling the warmth of his skin. “Is that okay?”

Spencer’s breath hitched, but he nodded, his voice barely a whisper as he responded, “Yeah.”

Everything you had done so far, he liked. He wasn’t sure what came next, but there was no hesitation in his trust—he knew he would like whatever you did. His eyes fluttered shut for a brief second as he felt your touch move higher, and he let out a small breath, almost as if he had been holding it in for far too long.

You took your time, wanting him to savor every moment. Your hands moved with gentle care, exploring his hips and stomach as you leaned in closer, your lips grazing his neck, your breath warm against his skin. Spencer shivered beneath you, his hands finally finding the courage to rest on your waist, his fingers gripping you just enough to anchor himself in the moment.

"You're doing so well, Spencer," you whispered against his ear, your voice filled with warmth and reassurance.

Spencer let out a breathless laugh, one filled with pure, unfiltered arousal. He hadn’t known until this moment how much he liked being praised, but the way your words washed over him—telling him he was doing good, that he was making you happy—lit something inside him. A fire burned in his stomach, spreading warmth throughout his entire body, and he couldn’t contain the way his body responded to you.

But then, when you wrapped your hand around him, firm but gentle, the heat exploded. It was as if you had poured gasoline onto that fire, and Spencer’s reaction was immediate. His back arched off the bed, his mouth falling open as a raw, guttural groan escaped him. His hands flew to the sheets, gripping them tightly as the sensation overwhelmed him, taking him by surprise.

He hadn’t been touched like this in a long, long time. It had been just him, his own hands and his own thoughts, but now—now it was you, and the difference was intoxicating. Every nerve in his body felt like it was alive, buzzing with an energy he hadn’t felt in years. He was losing himself to the moment, to you.

"God... Y/N..." he gasped, his voice low and rough, full of need. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t hold back the sounds that escaped him as your hand moved expertly, sending waves of pleasure coursing through him.

You smiled softly, watching the way Spencer's body reacted to your touch as you gripped him tighter, the way his chest rose and fell with each shaky breath. He looked so beautiful like this—vulnerable and completely immersed in the pleasure you were giving him. 

“You’re so good for me,” you whispered again, your voice low and soothing as your hand continued to move, squeezing extra on his head and drawing more of those delicious sounds from him. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

Spencer nodded weakly, his head falling back onto the pillows as he surrendered to the sensations. His mind, usually so busy and full of thoughts, was blissfully quiet now, his entire focus on the feel of your hands, your body, and your voice guiding him through this.

"Y/N..." he groaned again, his voice trembling with need, his hands reaching out to grasp your hips, wanting to feel more of you, to be closer to you. He was completely lost in you now, and he didn’t want it to end.

You smiled down at him, feeling a surge of affection and desire for the man who had so easily surrendered to you, his pleasure so raw and vulnerable. “Oh, you poor thing,” you whispered, your voice soft and teasing as your hand sped up its movements, stopping every once in a while to rub your thumb under his head. “You just needed someone to look after you, didn’t you?”

Spencer nodded quickly, his body responding to your words before he could even form a coherent thought. His head pressed back into the pillows, his chest heaving as the sounds of his pleasure spilled from his open mouth, completely uncontrollable. He was lost in the moment, lost in you, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of pride and tenderness as you watched him.

He looked so beautiful like this—flushed, vulnerable, and entirely open. His eyes, when they did open, were glazed with desire, his lips parted in a silent plea for more. There was something pure about the way he gave himself to the moment, trusting you completely to take him somewhere he hadn’t been in a long time.

And you were honored to be the one to make him feel like this, to be the person who could show him such tenderness and care. You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his neck, feeling his pulse racing beneath your lips as you whispered, “I’ve got you, Spencer.”

His response was another shaky moan, his hands returning to your hips as if to anchor himself to you, his grip both needy and gentle. His body was trembling now, his breaths coming faster and more erratically, and you knew he was close, teetering on the edge of release.

You let your free hand reach down to grasp and roll Spencer’s balls, his entire body jolted at the contact and he let out a sound akin to a scream. You could feel the tension building in him, his body reacting to every touch, every word. “You’re doing so good,” you murmured, your voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. “Just let go for me, okay?”

Spencer’s breathing hitched, and you could feel him start to unravel beneath you. He nodded again, unable to speak, but the look in his eyes said everything. He was ready to let go, ready to give himself completely to the moment, and you were more than ready to guide him through it.

And when he finally did—when he let himself go with a guttural moan that shook through his entire body—it felt like you were witnessing something truly beautiful. You held him close, stroking him through his high as he spurted over your hand and stomach, your touch never wavering, your voice a constant, reassuring presence.

Spencer’s body finally relaxed beneath you and you removed both of your hands, his breaths coming in deep, ragged gasps as he tried to regain his composure. His hands, still resting on your hips, loosened their grip, and he blinked up at you, his eyes filled with awe and affection.

"Can... can I touch you?" Spencer asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the weight of exhaustion was too heavy for him to speak any louder.

You smiled down at him, his face flushed and his hair damp with sweat. Gently, you brushed the strands from his forehead, your touch tender. "Not tonight," you whispered back, watching as a small pout formed on his lips.

Before he could say anything else, you leaned down and kissed the pout away, your lips soft against his. "You're tired," you said softly, your fingers tracing his cheek, "and that was plenty for me."

Spencer sighed, the tension in his body giving way to exhaustion as he relaxed into your touch. He didn’t protest further, knowing you were right, but the way his arms tightened slightly around your waist let you know that he wasn’t quite ready to let you go.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice soft and full of emotion.

You smiled down at him, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “What are you thanking me for?”

Spencer gazed up at you, still catching his breath, his face flushed from both exertion and emotion. His fingers lightly traced circles on your hips, the touch absent-minded but tender. 

“For... everything,” he whispered, his voice a little shaky but filled with sincerity. “For talking to me, being kind to me, patient with me. For... understanding.” His eyes flickered up to meet yours, searching, almost vulnerable. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve felt like this.”

You smiled softly, brushing your hand through his hair again, letting your touch soothe him. “You don’t need to thank me for that, Spencer. I wanted this as much as you did.”

Spencer swallowed, his throat working through the remnants of tension. “Still... it means a lot. You make me feel... safe.”

His words stirred something warm and protective in you, and your heart swelled at the realization of how much this moment meant to him. It wasn’t just the physicality; it was the connection, the trust. He had let down his walls for you, and in that vulnerability, you started to see the depths of who Spencer really was—someone deeply deserving of care and tenderness.

You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “I’m glad you feel that way. You deserve to be cared for, Spencer.”

His lips curved into a small smile, the tension in his body fully gone now, replaced with quiet contentment. “I’m really lucky,” he murmured, his voice still filled with awe. 

You chuckled softly, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “No, we’re both lucky.”

And in the warmth of that moment, you both knew that this was more than just a fleeting connection—it was something special, something real. Something neither of you had been expecting, but both of you had needed.

—

Spencer stirred, slowly waking up to the comforting warmth of your body, his head resting against your soft stomach, your fingers gently stroking him. The feeling was intimate, tender, and it brought a sleepy, blissful smile to his face. He could feel your fingers running through his hair as he nuzzled closer to you, feeling completely safe, completely at peace.

When he finally cracked one eye open, he saw you sitting up, wearing your shirt and underwear, looking down at him with a soft, almost shy expression—a side of you he hadn’t yet seen. It was endearing, and for a moment, he just wanted to stay like this forever, wrapped up in the warmth of your presence.

“Good morning,” you said softly, your voice timid, a tone that felt so different from the playful, confident energy you’d had last night. Spencer noticed the way you seemed slightly unsure, as if you weren’t certain what the morning would bring, and it made his heart ache with affection for you.

He opened both eyes fully, blinking up at you in a way that was so sweet and sleepy it melted your heart. “Hi,” he whispered, a smile spreading across his face, his voice still laced with drowsiness. The warmth in his gaze was undeniable, as though waking up to you was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

You grinned shyly in response, the soft morning light making everything feel gentle and new. “I hope it’s okay that I’m still here,” you said quietly, your fingers still moving softly through his hair.

Spencer’s smile widened as he shifted slightly, his head still resting against your stomach. “More than okay,” he murmured. “I... I didn’t want you to leave.”

His honesty made your heart swell, and you leaned down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “I didn’t want to leave either.”

Spencer sighed contentedly, his body relaxing further as he closed his eyes again, soaking in the moment. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as if to make sure you were really there, that this wasn’t just a dream.

“You’re still here,” he whispered, his voice full of quiet wonder. “And that makes me really happy.”

You continued to stroke his hair, your fingers gentle as you whispered back, “I’m happy too, Spencer. Really happy.”

And in the quiet of the morning, with the two of you wrapped up in each other, it felt like the beginning of something special—something neither of you could deny.

Eventually, the cozy bubble the two of you had created was interrupted by the sharp sound of Spencer's alarm blaring, signaling that it was time to get ready for work. The moment felt bittersweet, and Spencer, clearly not ready to break the warmth of your embrace, pouted grumpily as he reluctantly pulled himself from your arms to head toward the shower.

He paused at the edge of the bed, turning back to you with a hopeful look, still shy but clearly not wanting this to end. “Will you wait for me to get out?” he asked, almost as if he were afraid you'd disappear the moment he stepped out of the room.

You giggled, shaking your head dramatically with a playful smirk. “Nope,” you teased, your tone light and full of humor. “This is when I’ll make my grand exit—after you’ve already seen me, of course.”

Spencer laughed at your playful antics, the sound filling the room as he smiled to himself. Despite the teasing, he appreciated how lighthearted and easy everything felt with you. Still, he quickly got up from the bed, scampering to the bathroom with a newfound urgency, his naked form catching your attention.

Before you could stop yourself, you called out, “Woo! The sun is out but the moon is full! How come I didn’t get to see your ass last night?”

Spencer immediately blushed, his face turning a deep shade of pink as he covered his behind with his hands and sped up his pace, looking over his shoulder with a grin. “I’ll show you mine when you show me yours!” he yelled, his voice echoing down the hallway.

Your laughter rang out, the joyful sound filling the space and making Spencer smile to himself as he entered the bathroom. It was the only response he needed, the perfect note to start his day on.

After Spencer disappeared into the bathroom for his shower, you took the opportunity to give yourself a quick tour of his apartment. It was just as charming as you expected—full of books, eclectic trinkets, and signs of his quirky, intellectual nature. When you found the kitchen, you spotted the coffee supplies and decided to make a quick pot. The smell of freshly brewing coffee soon filled the air, and you figured a simple breakfast would be a nice touch, so you whipped up some eggs and toast, humming softly as you worked.

By the time Spencer emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed, the aroma of coffee and warm food had reached him. His heart swelled at the simple, thoughtful gesture. He had never imagined waking up to something like this. Rushing to get dressed as quickly as possible, he joined you in the kitchen, where you were casually sipping coffee and waiting for him.

You spent the next half hour in easy conversation, talking about simple, everyday things—where you grew up, how many siblings you had, whether or not you had any pets. Spencer seemed eager to learn all that he could about you, firing off question after question. You hardly noticed that he didn’t volunteer much about himself, his curiosity directed solely at getting to know you. You found it endearing, the way he leaned into every answer, his eyes lighting up with each new detail you shared.

Eventually, though, time started to slip away, and the soft glow of morning meant Spencer needed to leave for work. As he grabbed his bag, ready to head out, his shy demeanor returned, his eyes avoiding yours as he fumbled with his words. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, clearly flustered, “I don’t have time to take you home. I lost track of time.”

You were already sliding on your boots, unfazed by the rush. "That’s fine! I took a cab last night anyway, I can fetch another one," you replied with a smile, waving off his apology.

Spencer sighed in relief, though his brows furrowed with lingering guilt. “Can I pay for the fee at least?”

You laughed, shaking your head. "Absolutely not, Spencer. This wasn’t an exchange of goods," you teased with a playful wink.

Spencer flushed, chuckling at himself as he rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re right,” he said, lifting his hands in mock surrender. Then his expression softened, his voice quieter, more sincere. “Can I see you again? Take you on a proper date?”

Your smile brightened at his request, your heart warming at the thought. “I would really like that.”

With that, the two of you officially exchanged numbers, the moment feeling more intimate than it had any right to. Spencer kissed you once, then again, as if he couldn’t help himself, savoring every second before he finally had to leave for work.

As he walked out the door, you called a car, feeling a sense of excitement bubbling up inside you. This was definitely just the beginning of something worth exploring.

—

Spencer walked into the BAU that Thursday with an extra pep in his step, his usually focused and somewhat intense demeanor softened by a secret smile that seemed to have taken permanent residence on his face. He barely noticed the way his colleagues, Derek and Emily, glanced at each other with raised eyebrows, instantly picking up on his unusual cheerfulness.

Derek, never one to miss an opportunity, was the first to speak up as Spencer passed by his desk. "Whoa, whoa, hold up, pretty boy," he called out, leaning back in his chair with a grin. "What’s with the smile? Did you crack some unsolvable puzzle overnight or something?"

Spencer blinked, the smile still lingering, though he quickly tried to rein it in. "What? No, I didn’t... I mean, no puzzles," he said, fumbling slightly as he continued toward his desk.

Emily raised an eyebrow and leaned against Derek’s desk, crossing her arms as she smirked at Spencer. "Are you sure? Because you’re practically glowing, Reid. Come on, spill it."

Spencer’s cheeks flushed as he realized he wasn’t doing a great job hiding his good mood. He sat down at his desk, avoiding their teasing stares. "It’s nothing," he mumbled, but his attempt to brush it off only made Derek and Emily more determined.

"Uh-huh, sure," Derek repeated, his grin widening as he leaned forward. "Come on, man, you don’t look like this for no reason. You’re practically walking on air. What happened? Did you learn a new language or something?"

Spencer, unable to resist the opportunity to lean into the joke, shrugged, deciding to give Derek a little win. "Sure, Derek. I technically did begin studying a new language recently," he replied, trying to keep a straight face, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

Emily, sensing that they weren’t going to get the juicy details they were hoping for, sighed dramatically, waving a hand dismissively. "Ah, quel gâchis," she muttered, her voice laced with playful disappointment.

Spencer immediately glared in her direction, having caught the meaning of her words. "What a waste?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. "I’m standing right here, you know."

Emily smirked, clearly enjoying how easily she’d ruffled his feathers. "Well, we were hoping for something more exciting than a study session, Reid," she teased, leaning back in her chair with a grin. "But I guess we’ll just have to live with our imaginations."

Derek chuckled, crossing his arms. "Don’t let her get to you, pretty boy. Just know we’ve got our eye on you."

The teasing didn’t let up throughout the day. Derek and Emily, delighted by Spencer’s unusual behavior, had made sure word got around that Spencer was “studying” something new—something that had him grinning like an idiot at random moments. 

When JJ and Penelope heard the news, they joined in on the fun, leaving their own playful comments. JJ had passed by his desk, nudging him lightly. "Studying something new, huh? I’ve never seen someone so excited over homework, Spence." 

Penelope, ever the drama queen, had dramatically swooned in front of him. "Oh my stars, who knew Spencer Reid could look so refreshed and glowing? It must be some incredible study material," she teased, winking as she fluttered away, her laughter trailing behind her.

Even Hotch, who was usually more reserved about office banter, had joined in. “It’s good to see you more focused and refreshed, Reid,” he commented during a briefing, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, though his tone was as professional as ever.

But it wasn’t until Rossi chimed in that Spencer really realized how obvious he was being. Rossi had been watching Spencer with a knowing look for most of the day. After catching Spencer glancing at his phone for what must have been the hundredth time, he couldn’t resist.

“You’ve touched your phone an awful lot today, Reid,” Rossi mused as he walked by Spencer’s desk. "Waiting for something important?"

Spencer jolted slightly, startled out of his focus. He had, once again, been staring at the text he had prepared to send you but hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to hit send yet. He glanced up at Rossi, trying and failing to hide the sheepish grin spreading across his face. 

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, something like that," Spencer replied, his voice softer, betraying the smile that wouldn’t leave his face.

Rossi raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk as he crossed his arms. "Ah, I see. Must be some important 'study material' then, huh?"

Spencer flushed, realizing that Rossi was in on the joke too. “It’s... very interesting,” he said, glancing down at his phone again, but the small smile remained firmly in place.

Rossi chuckled knowingly. "Just make sure you don’t fail whatever test you’re preparing for," he teased, clapping Spencer on the back as he walked away, leaving the young doctor blushing and still holding his phone.

Finally, Spencer shook his head and, after a deep breath, hit "send" on the text to you, feeling a flutter of excitement as he anticipated your reply.

The end of the workday was a welcome relief for most of the team, and everyone was packing up their things, preparing to head out. Conversations were light, the usual post-case fatigue settling in. But as everyone moved about, the sound of a notification buzzed from Spencer’s pocket, drawing all eyes to him.

It was as if the entire team had collectively paused, waiting with bated breath as Spencer reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He hadn’t said much about whatever—or whoever—had been keeping that secret smile on his face, but they all knew something was up. And now, they watched him, each pretending not to care, but clearly all invested in this "mystery" that had made their boy genius so giddy.

Spencer took a quick glance at the screen, and almost immediately, his eyes widened. The smile that bloomed on his face was unmistakable, pure, and full of excitement. Without thinking, he tapped his hands on the desk, unable to keep still. Then, in a burst of happiness, he spun in his office chair—twice. 

Emily, who had been pretending to pack her bag, exchanged a smirk with JJ. Derek raised an eyebrow, fighting the urge to tease right then and there, while Penelope was practically bursting with curiosity, trying not to let out a squeal.

After Spencer’s excited spins, he paused, staring at his phone again, as if confirming what he had just seen.

Hi Spencer :) I’m glad you texted, I would love to see you again. How’s Saturday?

Spencer stared at the message for a moment, his heart racing, a goofy grin still plastered on his face. Saturday. Yes. Saturday was perfect. He could already feel the rush of anticipation building up inside him.

Across the room, Derek couldn’t hold back any longer. "Alright, man, spill it. What’s got you doing a victory lap in your chair like you just won the lottery?"

Spencer, still smiling, looked up at his friends and teammates, feeling a little embarrassed by how obvious his excitement had been, but he couldn’t hide it anymore. 

"I, um... I have a date on Saturday," he admitted, his voice quieter but filled with unmistakable happiness.

“Oh, boy wonder, please tell me this isn’t a date with more studying,” Penelope sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her heart as if she couldn’t handle the thought of Spencer’s version of a romantic evening being spent in a library.

Spencer’s blush deepened as he shook his head, laughing lightly. “No, no studying,” he assured her, still smiling. “It’s just... dinner. You know, a normal date.”

Penelope’s eyes widened in mock disbelief. “Dinner? Normal? Spencer Reid, going on a normal date?” She placed both hands on her cheeks in exaggerated shock. “Be still my heart, I’m not sure I’m ready for this new chapter of your life!”

Emily grinned, leaning on her desk. “What’s next? Dancing?” she teased, clearly enjoying how flustered Spencer was getting.

Spencer waved them off, though the smile never left his face. “I’m just... excited to see where it goes,” he said softly, almost to himself.

Derek raised a brow, folding his arms. “Well, don’t keep us hanging, man. You’re gonna let us know how it goes, right?”

Spencer chuckled nervously. “We’ll see.”

Penelope clasped her hands together, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, I am living for this! I expect a full report, Reid. Leave nothing out!” she added, already imagining the romantic possibilities.

Spencer just shook his head with a sheepish grin, knowing that after Saturday, he wouldn’t be able to escape their questions—but for now, he was just content with the thought of seeing you again.

—

Spencer spent all of Thursday evening through Saturday morning in a nervous wreck, spiraling between excitement and dread. The excitement stemmed from the memory of you—the way you looked at him, the way you had made him feel seen and wanted in a way no one ever had. But the dread… well, that came from his mind’s tendency to overanalyze, to question every little detail until it didn’t make sense anymore.

He had almost convinced himself that he had hallucinated the entire night—that perhaps he’d somehow gotten drunk at the bar and imagined everything. You were too good to be true, after all. You were beautiful, smart, and funny. And the way you had treated him with such care… it felt like something out of a dream. Spencer was nearly positive that it hadn’t really happened.

Adding to his anxiety was the fact that after confirming the time and place for your Saturday date, your conversation had ended abruptly. No back-and-forth, no playful banter. Just... silence. He had been waiting, glancing at his phone far too often, hoping for another text that never came.

Maybe the magic had only lasted for that one night and morning. Maybe you had woken up and realized that Spencer wasn’t what you wanted after all. What if the moment had passed and the reality of who he was had set in for you? What if, after thinking it over, you decided he wasn’t worth seeing again?

Then there was the physical aspect—the fact that you had seen him. All of him. You had touched him, and though you had stayed afterward, making breakfast and laughing with him, the irrational part of his brain couldn’t stop replaying the possibilities. What if you hadn’t liked what you saw but had been too kind to say anything in the moment? What if you were regretting the entire thing now? 

Rationally, Spencer knew these thoughts didn’t make sense. If you hadn’t been interested, you probably wouldn’t have agreed to see him again. You definitely wouldn’t have stayed the morning, made him breakfast, and kissed him so sweetly before leaving. But his nerves were gnawing at him, relentless and persistent.

Spencer wasn’t just nervous. He was terrified. In all his 30 years of life, he had never met someone who made his heart race so much in a good way. Someone who made him feel this vulnerable yet eager to dive deeper.

He spent Friday night tossing and turning, replaying every moment he’d spent with you, both wonderful and anxiety-inducing. By Saturday morning, he was an absolute bundle of nerves, wondering if maybe he should’ve done something differently, said something better, or been more... someone else.

But then, just as the clock hit mid-morning, his phone buzzed. Heart racing, Spencer grabbed it from the nightstand. A message from you. 

Looking forward to tonight :) See you soon!

He stared at the screen, a wave of relief washing over him so intense it almost knocked him off his feet. You were still interested. You hadn’t changed your mind. You wanted to see him again. 

For a moment, he just sat there, the nerves easing away as he reread the message. Maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

As Spencer got ready for the date, the nerves returned. Despite dressing the same way he always did—his usual button-up shirt, vest, slacks, his familiar aftershave, and cologne—there was a sense of urgency in his movements. He didn’t know why he was so anxious; after all, he hadn’t changed anything. But this was different. You were different. He just hoped that you would like him as he was.

You had offered to meet him at the restaurant, which, at first, he wasn’t sure about. He’d wanted to pick you up, to make the evening as special as possible, but when you suggested meeting there, he hadn’t pressed. Maybe it was nerves on your part too, or maybe you just liked the independence of arriving on your own terms. 

When he arrived and spotted you chatting with the hostess, his heart swelled, almost too big for his chest. You looked effortlessly beautiful, standing there in a red dress that hugged your form perfectly. It was simple, yet elegant, and the way it contrasted against your skin made you stand out even more in the dimly lit atmosphere of the restaurant.

You were laughing, completely at ease, talking with the hostess as if you hadn’t a care in the world. The sound of your voice carried over the light murmur of the restaurant, and Spencer was instantly reminded of when he’d first seen you. The way you had drawn him in so effortlessly. There was no pretense about you—just an infectious warmth and natural beauty.

He stood frozen for a moment, just watching, trying to gather the courage to walk up to you. But when you turned your head and caught sight of him, your face broke into the most radiant smile, and Spencer felt his nerves disappear all at once. It was like everything fell into place.

“Hey,” you greeted him as he approached, your eyes lighting up with excitement. “You made it.”

“Yeah, I—wow, you look... amazing,” Spencer smiled, feeling the last remnants of his awkwardness melt away as you grinned at him, doing a playful little twirl in your red dress. The movement was graceful yet lighthearted, making him laugh, a sound full of genuine joy.

“I’m sensing a pattern,” Spencer teased, his eyes gleaming with affection as he took in how the red dress suited you so perfectly, just as your red boots and shorts had. “Do you like red?”

You stepped in closer, your hands resting lightly on his chest, the warmth of your touch sending a subtle shiver down his spine. “I do,” you admitted with a sweet smile. “My, uh, my aunt always called me Red. Like Little Red Riding Hood.”

Spencer’s heart melted at the story, his eyes softening as he looked at you with pure adoration. “That’s so sweet,” he murmured, as if he couldn’t contain how endearing he found the thought of you being called “Red.”

You chuckled, glancing down for a moment before meeting his gaze again. “Yeah, she said I was always wandering off on my own adventures, and she had to remind me not to get eaten by wolves.”

Spencer’s smile grew even softer, his hands instinctively resting at your waist. “Well,” he said, his voice gentle but filled with admiration, “I think Little Red turned out just fine.”

The exchange left the both of you wrapped in a quiet moment of warmth, the kind of connection that made the rest of the world seem to fade into the background. With a soft smile, you took his hand, ready to start the evening, knowing that it was already off to a perfect start.

After being seated, the conversation flowed easily as you both eagerly dug into the appetizers. The tension and nerves from earlier seemed to melt away entirely as you shared bites of food and laughed at small jokes. The restaurant had a cozy atmosphere, with soft lighting that gave the table an intimate glow, making everything feel even more relaxed.

You giggled, trying to hold in your laughter as you chewed, but it was no use. Spencer had said something funny just as you took a bite, and now you were covering your mouth with your hand, laughing through the food. Spencer immediately looked apologetic, his eyes wide as he realized his timing.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he said, chuckling nervously, his hand halfway raised like he was ready to help in some way. “I didn’t mean to make you laugh while you were eating!”

You waved him off with your free hand, still laughing softly as you swallowed your food. “It’s okay, really,” you assured him once you could speak, your voice light with amusement. “It was worth it.”

Spencer grinned, a little sheepishly but clearly relieved that you weren’t bothered. “I’ll have to work on my comedic timing,” he said playfully, leaning back in his chair as he watched you, clearly enjoying the easy flow of your conversation.

You smiled at him, feeling the warmth of the moment settle around you. It was the kind of dinner where nothing had to be perfect for it to feel just right. Everything between you and Spencer felt natural—funny, even in the smallest moments.

You stretched your legs out under the table, completely unaware of Spencer’s position, and grazed his shin with your foot. Spencer jolted slightly, his body reacting immediately to the unexpected touch. His brow quirked up, and he gave you a playful look.

"Are you trying to play footsie with me?" he asked, pretending to sound scandalized, though the teasing smile tugging at the corners of his lips gave him away.

You burst into laughter, immediately throwing your hands up in mock surrender. "I promise I wasn’t!" you said, still giggling. "I was just stretching my legs!"

Spencer narrowed his eyes at you in mock suspicion, pretending to glare as if he didn’t believe a word of it. "Likely story, Red," he teased, using your intimate nickname with ease.

Hearing him call you "Red" sent a warmth straight to your heart. It had been so long since anyone other than your aunt had used that name, and the way Spencer said it felt special, like a quiet understanding between the two of you. You grinned, feeling that warmth spread through your chest.

"I’m innocent, I swear!" you laughed, leaning forward slightly, your eyes meeting his with a playful glint.

Spencer held your gaze for a moment before breaking into a wide smile. "I’ll let it slide this time," he said, his voice light but filled with a quiet fondness that made your heart skip a beat.

The dinner had gone off without a hitch, and Spencer, walking beside you under the soft glow of the streetlights, couldn’t even remember why he had been so nervous in the first place. The evening had been perfect—easy, comfortable, and filled with laughter. He found himself entirely at ease around you, more than he had been with anyone in a long time.

As you strolled along the sidewalk, your arm occasionally brushing against his, you made small talk, keeping the conversation light and fun. Spencer listened intently, smiling at your stories, hanging on to every word, though you noticed that he still hadn’t shared all that much about himself. You figured he had his reasons, and you weren’t going to push. He seemed too genuine, too kind-hearted, for it to be anything more than him needing time.

For now, you were content to share bits of your life with him—telling stories about your childhood, your adventures in college, and the silly moments that had shaped you. You spoke about your aunt, and how much she had meant to you growing up. Spencer’s eyes softened as he listened, clearly enjoying every word you spoke.

"You sound like you had quite the adventurous childhood," Spencer said with a smile as you finished a story about sneaking into your college library late at night for secret study sessions with your friends.

You laughed, nudging his arm playfully. "Adventurous might be a bit of an overstatement, but I definitely wasn’t the most well-behaved."

Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I can’t imagine you being anything but well-behaved."

You grinned at him, loving the way he teased you with that gentle humor of his. "You’d be surprised."

He seemed content to let you lead the conversation, and though he didn’t say much about his own past, you could tell that he was listening to every detail you shared. His silence wasn’t uncomfortable; in fact, it felt as though he was genuinely absorbing everything about you, like he wanted to know you better, but in his own quiet way.

When the two of you finally made your way back to the restaurant, where Spencer’s car was parked, he offered you a ride home. His thoughtfulness made you smile, but once again, you politely declined, explaining that you didn’t mind walking.

However, Spencer’s expression immediately shifted, his brow furrowing in concern as he quickly launched into crime statistics about women walking alone at night. His detailed knowledge on the subject was impressive, but it also sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. You couldn’t help but ask, "Why do you know so much about that?" 

His response came with a nervous chuckle. “Oh, I, uh, I work for the FBI. I deal with a lot of crimes.” His words were quick, almost bashful, as though he wasn’t used to dropping that kind of bombshell in casual conversation.

Your eyes widened in surprise as the pieces clicked into place—the secrecy, the knowledge, it all made sense now. "Oh!" you exclaimed, relief washing over you. "Thank god, I was afraid you had experience in kidnapping or something."

Spencer laughed, clearly caught off guard by your reaction. He was so used to people being either overly impressed or intensely curious when they learned about his job, but your response was different—humorous, almost relieved.

"No, no," he assured you, pulling out his badge to prove his innocence, still chuckling. "Nothing like that."

You leaned in to get a better look at the badge, your fingers briefly brushing over the picture. Your eyes lit up with amusement. "Oh my goodness," you said, grinning up at him. "You look like a little baby in this!"

Spencer flushed slightly, laughing awkwardly. "Well, I was 22 when that was taken," he admitted, scratching the back of his head. "I’m 30 now… maybe I should retake it."

You smiled, your gaze softening as you looked at him. "No," you said, your voice affectionate. "I like it. It still looks like you, just more… innocent."

Spencer’s heart skipped a beat at the way you were looking at him, your expression so warm and kind. He wasn’t used to being seen like that, not after years of working in the field, seeing the worst of humanity. But in that moment, you saw him—not as a brilliant FBI agent, but as Spencer, the person. And he liked that more than he could put into words.

He gave you a shy smile in return, slipping the badge back into his pocket. “Thanks,” he said softly, genuinely appreciating your words.

You nodded slightly, unsure of how to navigate the next moment. It seemed like the night was coming to a natural end, and you didn’t quite know how to say goodbye without feeling like you were cutting it short. 

“Wait, Y/N,” Spencer said suddenly, his hand gently catching your arm. There was a soft urgency in his voice, like he wasn’t quite ready for the evening to end either. “I can’t let you walk home alone. Please, at least let me walk you.”

You laughed, partly at the irony and partly at his genuine concern. “Oh, well, you see,” you began, biting your lip as you explained, “I didn’t want you to know where I lived, you know, just in case you were dangerous.”

Spencer blinked, momentarily stunned by your honesty, but you quickly followed it up with a lighthearted smile.

“But,” you continued, glancing down at your shoes with a playful sigh, “seeing as you’re probably my safest option, I would love a ride home. These shoes are starting to hurt.”

Spencer’s expression softened immediately, a mixture of relief and amusement. “Oh,” he smiled, clearly trying not to laugh at the situation. “Well, in that case, I’m glad I passed the safety test.”

You chuckled, grateful for Spencer’s warmth and understanding as he quickly unlocked his car, holding the door open for you like the gentleman he was. “I promise I’m just your FBI chauffeur for the evening,” he said with a playful grin. “No funny business involved.”

Sliding into the passenger seat, you felt more comfortable now, letting yourself sink into the soft interior of the car. “I should hope there will be some funny business,” you teased back with a grin.

Spencer laughed as he rounded the car and got into the driver's seat, his smile still lingering as he started the engine. “Maybe, if you’re lucky,” he shot back, a hint of playful banter in his voice.

You smiled to yourself, remembering the playful back-and-forth from the first night at the bar. “Oh, I’m lucky, alright,” you teased, letting your words hang in the air.

The conversation during the drive was light and easy, flowing naturally as you both learned more about each other. Spencer shared bits about his life—how he was from Las Vegas, how he’d been a child prodigy, finishing school at an age when most were still navigating adolescence. You revealed more about yourself too, that you were 25 and had just moved to Quantico a month ago. It was the most you’d learned about him so far, and your heart soared with the thought that maybe he was starting to feel more comfortable with you, letting those initial walls down just a little.

When the conversation turned to your age, Spencer let out a visible sigh of relief, as you had teasingly implied you were only 18 when he initially brought up his own youth. You giggled at his obvious relief, knowing he had been worried.

As you both stepped out of the car, Spencer opened the door for you once more, a habit that hadn’t gone unnoticed. It was then that you saw your cat, Poof, sitting in the window, his eyes staring down at the scene below.

“Who is that?” Spencer asked, his eyes following your gaze.

You smiled, proud as always of your feline friend. “That’s Poof,” you said, your voice warm. “My boy.”

Spencer turned to face you, and for the first time, he seemed to muster the courage to place his hands on your waist, the touch gentle but deliberate. His fingertips pressed lightly against your hips, pulling you just a little closer.

You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his with a playful, sultry look. “I hope it’s not time for that funny business,” you said softly, your lips curving into a teasing smile. “Poof is watching.” 

Spencer’s soft laugh filled the quiet evening air, his voice slightly teasing as he said, “Can you ask him to look away? I’d like to kiss you.”

You rubbed your chin, pretending to think it over, drawing out the moment. “Hmm, I guess I could try.” You turned your head over your shoulder and called up to your cat, “Hey, Poof?”

Poof perked up in the open window, his eyes locking onto yours, and he let out a questioning meow.

“Can you look away, baby?” you continued, your voice playful. “Mommy’s going to do something naughty.”

Spencer immediately flushed at your words, his cheeks turning a deep pink as he laughed nervously, clearly caught off guard by your teasing. Poof, seemingly understanding the moment, let out one more meow before hopping down from the windowsill, likely heading toward the front door to meet you inside. Whether he truly understood or just wanted to meet you, it didn’t matter. The effect was the same: the two of you now had privacy.

You turned back to Spencer with a smile, feeling the playful energy shift into something more intimate. With Poof gone, the evening air felt still, and you reached your hands into Spencer’s hair. Spencer, still slightly flustered but unable to hide his excitement, leaned in. His hands remained gently on your waist, but there was a tenderness in his touch that made your heart race.

Slowly, your lips met his in a soft kiss, the world seeming to quiet around you as everything else faded. It was gentle, tentative, and cozy, his lips pillow soft and sweet. Spencer kissed you like he was savoring every second, as if this moment meant more than he could put into words.

When you finally pulled back from the kiss, your noses still brushing lightly, the moment reminded you of a scene straight out of Lady and the Tramp. Spencer’s eyes were half-lidded, his lips still curved in a soft smile, clearly affected by the kiss. He exhaled softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he said, “I think you are the most amazing woman I have ever met.”

The sincerity of his words hit you like a warm breeze, melting your heart into a puddle. But as much as you felt overwhelmed with happiness, your expression must not have mirrored what you were feeling inside, because Spencer’s smile faltered slightly. He was quick to backtrack, his words tumbling out in a nervous rush.

“Oh no, was that too much? Is it too soon to say that? I’m sorry,” he stammered, his nervousness suddenly replacing the confidence he'd gained earlier. He was clearly afraid he had said something to ruin the perfect moment, his eyes searching yours for reassurance.

You shook your head gently, biting your lip as you looked up at him. There was a newfound shyness in your gaze, an almost vulnerable expression that hadn’t been there before. "Just... please mean it," you whispered, your voice soft, your heart racing as you waited for his response.

Spencer’s eyes softened instantly, his hands tightening slightly on your waist, like a silent reminder he wasn’t going anywhere. “I do,” he said, his voice low but firm. 

Hearing those words, a slow, sweet smile spread across your face, and the warmth in your chest bloomed into something even bigger. You felt seen, appreciated, and for a moment, it was like the two of you were in your own little world—just you, Spencer, and the quiet glow of the night.

“I feel the same way,” you admitted softly, your hand reaching up to brush a strand of his hair from his face.

Spencer’s nervousness melted away in that instant, replaced by pure relief and something that felt like hope. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, and everything felt right. No more hesitation, no more second-guessing—just the feeling of being exactly where you both wanted to be.

—

Spencer Reid had never truly been in love before—not in the way people described it, that overwhelming rush of emotions, the constant thoughts about someone else filling your mind. But as he sat in his apartment later that night, thinking about you, he was almost certain that this—whatever he was feeling—was love. The way his heart skipped a beat just thinking about your smile, how his palms had been sweaty before your kiss, how you had effortlessly made him feel like the most important person in the world.

Still, Spencer was Spencer—his mind always searching for logical explanations, grounded in facts and science. He knew that love was largely chemical, that the brain released dopamine, oxytocin, and serotonin, making people feel giddy and euphoric. And he also knew, from one of the countless facts stored in his mind, that both chocolate—and oddly enough, peas—could stimulate the release of similar hormones, mimicking the sensation of love.

So, in true Spencer Reid fashion, he decided to conduct an experiment.

The next day, he went out to buy both chocolate and peas—determined to see if those foods could recreate even a fraction of the feelings you stirred in him. He figured that if it was purely chemical, those foods should make him feel the same warmth, the same fluttering excitement in his chest.

He got home, spread out the chocolate and peas on his kitchen table, and hesitated for a moment. Was he really doing this? Testing whether his feelings for you were real or just his brain tricking him? He almost laughed at how absurd it all seemed.

But, he pushed forward, nibbling on some chocolate first. He waited, focusing on his body’s reactions. There was a slight rush—sweet and satisfying—but no butterflies, no pounding heart. Then he moved on to the peas, knowing they were supposed to have similar effects on the brain's chemistry. But after a handful of peas, he only felt... like someone who had just eaten peas. There was no spark, no overwhelming sense of joy.

Spencer sat back in his chair, staring at the empty plates, and let out a soft laugh. The experiment, while amusing, had proven what he already suspected: his feelings for you weren’t something he could replicate with food. They were something much deeper—something entirely unique to you. 

The thought filled him with a sense of peace, and in that moment, he realized that what he was feeling was real. He didn’t need science or logic to confirm it—he just knew. 

And as he closed his eyes, picturing your smile, he knew that love was the only thing that could explain the way he felt when he was around you.

—

"Alright, pretty boy, let’s hear it!" Derek clapped his hands together, rubbing them with an exaggerated sense of excitement as Spencer returned from the break room, coffee in hand.

Spencer paused mid-sip, his wide eyes blinking behind his cup, brows raised as if he hadn’t the faintest idea what Derek was referring to. “Hear it?”

Of course, he knew exactly what Derek meant. The date. But a small part of him—maybe a larger part than he cared to admit—wanted to keep you to himself, at least for a little while longer. His team already knew so much about him, and this, well, this was different. This was special.

Derek wasn’t having any of it. He narrowed his eyes, giving Spencer a mock-glare. “Don’t play with me, kid. You went on that date, right?”

Before Spencer could even respond, Emily perked up from her desk, always eager for gossip when it came to her favorite awkward genius. “Oh yeah! How did it go?” she asked, leaning in, her face full of curiosity.

Spencer sighed, setting his coffee down on his desk with a soft clink. He wasn’t going to get out of this one easily. He tried to keep his face neutral, his body language calm, but the memories of the evening—the walk under the streetlights, your playful banter, and that kiss—flooded his mind, making it hard not to smile.

"It went... very well," he admitted, his voice soft but steady.

Derek wasn’t convinced by Spencer’s attempt at subtlety. “That’s it? Very well?" he repeated, mocking Spencer’s impassive tone. "Come on, man. You’ve gotta give us more than that.”

Emily leaned forward even more, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, spill! Did she like you? Did you kiss her?" 

Spencer could feel the warmth creeping up his neck, threatening to show in his cheeks. He could lie, brush it off, or keep it vague, but he knew his team better than that. They wouldn’t let it go. Still, he wasn’t quite ready to give them every detail.

"Yes, we kissed," he said, avoiding their wide-eyed stares. He could practically feel Emily and Derek’s eyes burning into him. "And yes, I think she liked me."

"Whoa!" Derek exclaimed, slapping his hand on the desk in excitement. "Look at you, Romeo!" 

Emily was grinning now, clearly thrilled with this development. “Oh my God, you’re finally seeing someone. I knew this was going to be good!”

Spencer shifted in his chair, trying to avoid the attention while hiding his smile behind his coffee. "It’s... still early," he said cautiously. "We’re going to see each other again, but I don’t want to rush things."

Derek chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “No rush, man. Just enjoy it.”

Spencer nodded, feeling both overwhelmed by their enthusiasm and touched by their genuine happiness for him. As much as he had wanted to keep it to himself, there was something nice about sharing even this small piece of happiness with his team—his friends. 

Still, in his mind, the best parts of the date were tucked away, memories meant just for him and you.

Just as Spencer was about to respond, Hotch’s voice cut through the bullpen. “Briefing room, five minutes,” he called, his tone all business as usual. But then, with a rare hint of amusement in his voice, Hotch added, “Congrats, Reid,” flashing a brief, smug smile before disappearing back into his office.

The team erupted into cheers and playful whops, their laughter filling the room. Derek gave Spencer a knowing nudge, grinning ear to ear, while Emily clapped her hands together in excitement.

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh along with them, shaking his head at how quickly news spread in the BAU. He gathered his files, his coffee, and his thoughts, preparing for the case briefing. 

As they made their way to the briefing room, Spencer found his thoughts drifting back to you. He wasn’t one to be easily distracted, especially at work, but today, there was a lightness in his step, a quiet happiness that followed him.

No matter what the next case would bring, you were there in the back of his mind, a constant, sweet reminder of the night before. And for the first time in a long while, Spencer felt like he was allowed to have something personal, something good, to look forward to.

—

It had been a few days since your date with Spencer, and though you hadn’t seen each other since then, the excitement hadn’t faded. Every day, you and Spencer shared brief phone calls after work, recounting your days, each conversation leaving you both with a sense of comfort and anticipation. It was enough for now, enough to tide you over until the next time you could be together in person.

Spencer, however, had been cautious about texting you first. He was afraid of coming on too strong, not wanting to push if you weren’t ready. He longed to see you again, and he was planning to ask if you were free this weekend. But the fear of always making the first move held him back, making him hesitate. He wanted to know that you were just as invested, that you’d reach out too.

Before he could summon the courage to ask you out again, the BAU caught a case that took them out of town. Spencer wasn’t sure what the protocol was for this kind of thing—how much should he let you know? It wasn’t like you were officially together, but at the same time, he didn’t want to just disappear without a word.

He decided to wait for your usual nightly call and tell you then, hoping the timing wouldn’t be off, worried that he might miss the window if things got too chaotic. A part of him secretly hoped you’d make the first move and call him tonight—an assurance that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

As the day stretched into evening, the team found themselves in a stuffy precinct in Arizona, dealing with an uncooperative local police department. The frustration levels were high, and Spencer was barely holding onto his patience with an especially difficult sheriff. Just as he was about to lose his cool, his phone rang.

Relieved for the distraction, Spencer pulled it out without thinking, assuming it was Garcia checking in with some intel. He answered with a weary sigh. “What’s up, Garcia?”

There was a brief pause before your voice came through the line, hesitant and uncertain. “Um, hi?”

Spencer’s entire demeanor shifted in an instant. His heart leaped in his chest, excitement bubbling up at the fact that you had called him. But it was quickly followed by a wave of embarrassment as he realized his mistake. “Y/N! Hi!” he blurted out, his voice filled with a mix of apology and enthusiasm.

“Expecting someone else?” you teased, but he could hear the slight edge of insecurity in your voice, making his stomach twist with guilt.

“No, no, I’m so sorry,” Spencer rushed to explain, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned against the wall of the precinct, trying to escape the noise and tension around him. “I’ve been dealing with this case, and I just—well, I thought it was a work call. I didn’t look at the caller ID. But I’m really glad you called.”

There was a brief silence on the other end, and Spencer held his breath, hoping he hadn’t ruined this. He desperately wanted you to know that you calling meant more to him than he could say.

After a moment, you spoke again, your tone softening. “It’s okay, I figured you were busy.”

“I am,” Spencer admitted, his voice quieter now. “But I would never be too busy to talk to you.”

Rossi happened to overhear the exchange between Spencer and you. Though the older agent smiled with quiet amusement and joy for the young genius, he refrained from teasing him. This was a rare moment for Spencer, and Rossi respected that.

On the other end of the line, you giggled softly, your voice light and teasing. “Never too busy for me?” you repeated, playfully emphasizing the words. “That’s quite the line, Spencer.”

Spencer felt his face warm even more, rubbing the back of his neck as a sheepish smile tugged at his lips. "Mhm, you know me, smooth talker extraordinaire," he replied, his voice soft but playful. 

Your laughter echoed through the phone, sending a wave of warmth over Spencer. He couldn't help the huge smile that spread across his face. There was something about making you laugh that filled him with an indescribable joy.

On the other side of the room, Hotch overheard the exchange. Raising an eyebrow, he glanced over at Rossi. “Did Reid just use sarcasm?” 

Rossi nodded, a knowing smile on his face. "I think the kid’s in love."

While they observed, you continued telling Spencer a story about Poof. "Oh, and today Poof scared a little kid into dropping their ice cream when he meowed from the window," you said with a giggle. "The poor thing was so startled. I ended up running downstairs with a popsicle from my freezer to make up for it."

As you laughed, recounting the moment, Spencer's heart swelled at the thought of your kindness. His mind briefly wandered to the idea of you as a mother, imagining you with a little one on your hip, comforting them with that same gentle warmth. And, to his own surprise, the thought of you being the mother of his children crossed his mind, and it didn’t scare him—it made his heart race in the best way possible.

He shook the thought away, trying to focus on the present, but it lingered, a sweet hope tucked away for the future.

"That's... really sweet of you," he said softly, his voice full of admiration. "That kid’s lucky you were there. I’m sure Poof didn’t feel too guilty, though."

You laughed again, the sound sending Spencer into another moment of quiet happiness. "Nope, he was pretty proud of himself."

Spencer chuckled, feeling lighter than he had in days despite the tension of the case. Just hearing your voice, your stories, made everything feel a little easier.

—

After the team wrapped up the case and stepped off the jet, Spencer’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, his heart skipping a beat when he saw your name lighting up the screen. A soft smile spread across his face as he read the message.

Fly safe :) Come around to mine after you’re settled? I have a surprise!

His heart fluttered at the thought of you preparing something special for him. After the tension and exhaustion of the last few days, knowing that you had gone out of your way to plan a cozy night in for him made his chest warm with appreciation. He could hardly contain his excitement as he picked up his pace, eager to see you.

As he sped through the BAU offices, Derek’s voice echoed behind him, laced with amusement. “Got somewhere important to be, pretty boy?”

Spencer didn’t even slow down, not bothering to stop by his desk or respond to Derek’s teasing. He was too focused on getting home, quickly freshening up, and heading straight to you. He had been looking forward to seeing you since the moment your text had come through. The idea of spending the evening unwinding in your presence—feeling the comfort you always brought—was all he wanted after this stressful case.

Once home, he quickly showered and changed into something more relaxed but still nice. The thought of you, the surprise you had planned, fueled his every movement. His mind buzzed with anticipation, wondering what you could possibly have in store.

Soon enough, he found himself standing outside your door, the night air cool but carrying a sense of warmth knowing you were just on the other side. Spencer took a deep breath, knocked softly, and smiled to himself. Whatever the surprise, he knew this night would be perfect just because he’d get to spend it with you.

As you opened the door, your heart swelled with affection the moment you laid eyes on Spencer. He looked so relaxed, dressed down in a casual red sweatshirt, something you hadn't seen him wear before. It made him look more approachable, more... himself. And to top it all off, he was wearing red—a color you were more than familiar with.

“Trying to steal my look?” you teased with a playful grin, your tone lighthearted.

Spencer, however, found himself at a loss for words. He wanted to shoot back a quick, witty reply—keep up with your usual banter—but the sight of you in those shorts, your legs fully exposed, completely derailed his train of thought. His brain short-circuited for a moment, distracted by how stunning you looked in such a casual outfit.

His eyes widened slightly, and he swallowed, trying to regain his composure. "I—uh—yeah, I guess great minds think alike," he finally managed to say, though his voice was a little breathless. 

You caught the way his gaze lingered a bit longer than usual, and it only fueled your affection for him. There was something incredibly endearing about the way Spencer, usually so articulate and brilliant, could be rendered speechless by the simplest things about you.

“Well, I think you look cute,” you added, leaning against the doorframe with a teasing smile.

Spencer blushed, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to focus on your words rather than how much he wanted to reach out and touch you. “You look... amazing,” he said, his voice genuine, the distraction momentarily fading as his gaze softened.

“Come on, space-cadet, step inside the spaceship,” you teased, giggling as you made room for Spencer to step inside your cozy, inviting home.

Spencer smiled, still somewhat in awe of you and how effortlessly comfortable you made him feel. He let you take his hand, your fingers lacing together as you guided him through the charming kitchen and into the warm, welcoming living room. The soft glow of the lamps, the greenery, and the sense of warmth that filled the space made it feel like a perfect sanctuary after the long, stressful days he’d had.

"So… I hope it’s not too much," you began, swinging your linked hands back and forth gently, clearly a little nervous. "But I, uh, rented some movies and made some food." Your voice softened as you continued, your gaze meeting his with a hopeful glint. "I thought we could just cuddle and hang out?"

Spencer's heart swelled at your thoughtfulness. The idea of a simple, cozy night in with you, far away from the chaos of work, was exactly what he needed. He could already feel the tension from the case melting away as he stood in your warm, peaceful space. The fact that you had gone out of your way to make him feel cared for, even without saying much, meant everything.

He smiled, squeezing your hand gently. "That sounds perfect," he said softly, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. “Thank you… for doing all this. You didn’t have to.”

You shrugged with a playful smile, pulling Spencer toward the couch. “I wanted to. You deserve a break. And... selfishly, I really wanted to see you.”

Spencer’s heart swelled in his chest, and he had to wonder if it was healthy for his heart to be beating this rapidly, this often. “Thank god,” he said dramatically, bending at the knees a bit for comedic effect, enhancing his performance. “Because I was really starting to miss you.”

You crinkled your nose in affection, finding his antics utterly adorable. Leaning up, you placed a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. “We’re going to be that disgusting couple everyone hates to be around, aren’t we?” you teased, a playful gleam in your eyes.

That’s when Spencer swore his heart stopped altogether. His brain short-circuited as he replayed your words in his mind. Couple? Could this be real? His pulse quickened, and he suddenly felt like his chest was too small for his heart.

“Couple?” he asked, his voice filled with excitement and just a hint of disbelief. He looked at you with wide, hopeful eyes, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

You froze, realizing the word had slipped out without much thought. For a moment, you panicked, unsure of whether you had moved too fast or if Spencer was even ready for that. “I—uh... I didn’t mean to say that,” you stammered, feeling the nerves bubbling up. “But... is that okay?”

Spencer’s expression softened instantly. His eyes were still wide, but now filled with something warm, something deeper than mere excitement. Without thinking, he pulled you into a tender hug, pressing his forehead gently against yours. “It’s more than okay,” he whispered, his voice slightly shaky from the rush of emotions flooding through him. “I… I’d really like that.”

You laughed softly, relief washing over you as you melted into his arms. “Me too,” you whispered back, your hands wrapping around his back, holding him close. The tension that had built up between you moments ago dissolved into something tender, something warm and reassuring.

After a few beats, Spencer pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his smile small but full of meaning. “So… we’re that disgusting couple now, huh?”

You giggled, gently brushing a loose strand of hair from his face. “Looks like it,” you teased, your voice light, yet filled with affection. 

Spencer chuckled, unable to stop smiling, the realization of what this meant finally settling into his mind. This was real—you were real—and the connection between the two of you was deepening in ways he hadn’t even anticipated.

And there, in that cozy living room, something beautiful had started to bloom, and neither of you could be happier.

Of course, that was until you playfully pushed Spencer down onto the couch, the unexpected movement making him let out a surprised laugh. You leaned over him, your lips finding his, and kissed him with a fervor that made his heart skip several beats. His hands instinctively found your waist, holding onto you as you kissed him silly.

Every time your lips met, Spencer’s mind grew foggier, lost in the warmth and softness of your touch. His usual articulate thoughts were reduced to nothing more than pure sensation, and in that moment, he was utterly and completely yours.

But then, when you shifted, your hips settling down on his lap, and ground yourself against him, a low gasp escaped his lips. Spencer’s hands gripped your waist tighter, and he swore he was through the roof with happiness. His pulse was racing, his mind spinning, and yet, all he could think about was how perfect this felt—how perfect you felt.

A breathless laugh escaped him between kisses as he looked up at you with wide, adoring eyes. “I think,” he said, his voice ragged from the emotions swirling inside him, “this might actually kill me.”

You giggled against his lips, your fingers brushing through his hair. “Good,” you teased, leaning down to kiss him again, your movements deliberate and full of affection. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you survive.”

When your tongue traced along Spencer’s bottom lip, he knew he was in trouble—there was no way he was going to survive this, and, really, he was okay with that. But as the intensity of the moment grew, something shifted inside him. He didn’t want you doing all the work, didn’t want to just be the one melting under your touch. No, he wanted to return the favor. 

“Y/N…” he mumbled, his voice low and filled with need as you sucked on his tongue, causing him to let out a deep, involuntary moan. The sound echoed in the room, making the moment feel even more electric.

Before you could continue, Spencer gently pushed you back, his hands still steady on your waist. “I want—” he began, taking a deep, steadying breath, his heart racing. “I want to… please you this time.” His voice trembled slightly, the desire in his words clear.

You paused, gazing down at him with surprise and affection, your breath catching at the intensity in his eyes. For a moment, you were speechless, feeling the shift in the air between you. There was something deeply intimate in Spencer’s request, in the way he wanted to take care of you.

His hands slid up your sides, his fingers tracing light, almost reverent patterns along your skin as he held your gaze. “Please,” he added softly, his voice now filled with a quiet determination.

The vulnerability in his eyes and the sincerity of his words made your heart race in response. You smiled down at him, leaning in close so your lips barely brushed his. “Okay,” you whispered, giving him a soft, reassuring kiss. “Whatever you want, Spencer.”

Spencer gently shifted your positions, moving you onto your back as he settled between your legs, his body hovering just above yours. You giggled softly, your eyes twinkling with mischief as you wiggled your eyebrows playfully. “Hello, handsome.”

Spencer smiled down at you, a warmth blooming in his chest at how effortlessly playful and sweet you always were. “Hey, gorgeous,” he breathed out, his voice full of affection as he leaned down to kiss you again, slow and deep, savoring every moment.

This time, his hands were braced beside your head, supporting his weight as he kissed you. Your fingers traced soft, lazy patterns along his back, the gentleness of your touch contrasting with the intensity building between you.

But then, Spencer lowered his hips, grinding down into yours, and the sensation sent a shockwave through you. You couldn’t stop the high-pitched keen that escaped your throat, your fingers instantly digging deeper into his back, your body responding to him with a need that left you breathless.

Spencer pulled back slightly, his gaze heated as he looked down at you, his breathing ragged. “Did you like that?” he asked, his voice husky, thick with a genuine curiosity—but the way he asked it, the rough edge in his tone, made your heart race and your blood pressure spike.

You nodded, your breaths coming out in shallow, excited gasps. “Y-yeah,” you managed to breathe out, the simple action of speaking feeling overwhelming with the way he was looking at you, as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered to him right now.

Spencer’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Good,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss you again, but this time his hips didn’t stop moving, rolling into yours with deliberate, teasing pressure that made you arch up into him, craving more.

With each roll of his hips, Spencer was more determined to make sure you felt everything, his quiet confidence growing as he watched the way your body responded to him. The playful teasing from earlier had transformed into something much deeper, more intimate, and as his hands roamed your body, he knew that this—being with you like this—was something he wanted to experience again and again.

“Spence, ungh,” you whined, your voice shaky as pleasure coursed through you. “Spencer, this—this feels so good.” Your words stuttered out as Spencer’s lips trailed warm kisses down the length of your neck, making you arch into him, but something inside you told you it could feel even better. “Can I… move you?”

Spencer paused, pulling back slightly to look at you, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Move me?” he asked, his voice soft and curious.

You nodded, your breath still coming out in shallow bursts. “If you were situated a little more to the left… you’d hit perfectly.”

Spencer blinked in surprise, the realization dawning on him. “Oh!” He laughed, the sound a mix of amusement and understanding, as his face flushed a deeper shade of red. “Of course.”

He braced himself as your hand went into his pants, repositioning just the way you needed, his hands still braced on either side of your head as his body moved into place. And when he pressed down into you again, the sensation hit in a way that had your back arching and a strangled moan escaping your lips.

“That better?” he asked, his voice low, and though the question was genuine, there was an underlying heat in his tone that sent sparks flying through your veins.

Your only response was a breathless nod, your hands clinging to his back, your nails digging into Spencer’s back as he moved just the way you had asked. The new angle sent shockwaves of pleasure through you, and it was all you could do to nod frantically, your breath catching in your throat as he pressed deeper.

"That’s it," Spencer murmured, his voice laced with both awe and desire. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "You feel so good." His words only heightened the moment, sending a shiver down your spine as his hips continued their slow, deliberate movement against yours.

The tension in your body built with each roll of his hips, and every breathless whimper you made only spurred him on. Spencer's usually calm, thoughtful demeanor had melted away, replaced by something more primal, more intense. Yet, there was still something so gentle about him, like he wanted to savor every moment, every reaction you gave him.

You tilted your head back, giving him more access to your neck as he resumed placing kisses there, each one sending jolts of pleasure through you. "Spencer," you gasped out his name, your voice trembling with need. "Don’t stop."

His lips curved into a small, pleased smile against your skin. “I won’t,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. Spencer moved again, his body aligned with yours in perfect harmony now, and the sensation made you gasp out loud, your back arching off the couch as his name fell from your lips in a desperate moan.

He watched your every reaction with fascination, his gaze full of warmth and desire. “Just tell me what you need,” he murmured, his voice steady but filled with the same yearning coursing through him. “I’ll give it to you.”

The intensity of his words, combined with the way his body moved against yours, was overwhelming in the best possible way. You felt your grip tighten on his back, nails dragging lightly against his skin as the pressure built between you both. 

Your breath hitched again, every nerve in your body sparking with sensation. "Just like that, Spence," you managed to gasp out, your body trembling with anticipation.

And Spencer, ever attentive, ever caring, gave you exactly what you needed, his movements steady and sure as he took you closer and closer to the edge.

Spencer’s eyes were filled with awe as he watched you, the intensity of your expression sending a rush of pride and arousal through him. "Are you going to finish?" he asked deeply, his voice tinged with both excitement and lust, clearly captivated by the way you were responding to him.

But as much as you loved the feeling of him against you, you knew that you needed something more to actually reach that peak. You didn’t want him to think that he was doing anything wrong, because he wasn’t—everything felt amazing. You just needed a little extra.

Shaking your head slightly, you met his gaze, feeling a little shy but determined to be honest. "Um, no," you admitted, your voice soft but clear. "Spence, I’m going to need something more..."

His eyes widened slightly, understanding dawning on him, and he immediately slowed down, his expression one of care and attentiveness. "What do you need?" he asked, his voice gentle, full of nothing but the desire to give you exactly what you wanted. Spencer was nothing if not eager to please, and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like he wasn’t giving you what you deserved.

You swallowed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, but you pushed through the nervousness. "I just need more… contact," you said, your voice trembling a little, but you held his gaze, knowing that Spencer was the kind of person who wouldn’t judge you for asking. "Maybe your hands... or your mouth?"

The moment you said it, Spencer’s eyes darkened with understanding and desire, and he nodded quickly. "I can do that," he said, his voice now rougher, the edge of excitement clear in his tone. Without hesitation, he adjusted himself, his hands sliding down your body with deliberate care, his fingertips brushing lightly over your skin, sending a shiver of anticipation through you.

"Tell me how," he whispered, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Tell me what you want, and I’ll make sure it feels good."

You nodded quickly, your lips brushing against Spencer’s as you whispered, “Touch me, please.” The desperation in your voice sent a rush of heat through him, and Spencer couldn’t help but smile at how the roles had reversed. You were the one who was a mess now, needing his touch, and he found it both endearing and exciting.

But Spencer wasn’t one to leave you waiting—he was far too much of a gentleman for that. He wanted to make sure you felt every bit of pleasure you deserved. His hands moved with purpose, pushing your tiny shorts and underwear down as far as they could go in your current position, the fabric bunching up around your thighs.

His fingers hesitated just for a second, brushing lightly over the coarse hair, testing the waters as he sought your reaction. The moment his fingertips made contact with your lips, you let out a soft gasp, your body arching slightly, seeking more of his touch.

Spencer’s gaze flicked back to your face, watching your reaction closely, a mixture of curiosity and admiration in his eyes. He loved how responsive you were to him, how honest your body was in its need. Slowly, gently, his fingers traced lower, gliding through the wet heat of your skin, exploring with a tenderness that made your heart race.

“Like this?” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath as his fingers found your most sensitive spot, circling your clit with deliberate care and pressure. He wanted to make sure he was doing it just right, watching for every little tell that told him you were enjoying this.

Your breath hitched, and your fingers dug into his shoulders as you nodded, unable to form words in that moment. Spencer, always attentive, took your reaction as the encouragement he needed and continued, his movements slow but precise, building the tension inside you with every stroke of his hand.

As your body responded to his touch, the quiet sounds of your pleasure filled the space between you, and Spencer’s heart swelled with satisfaction. He leaned down to kiss you again, his lips moving against yours with a renewed sense of purpose as his fingers continued their steady rhythm, determined to give you exactly what you needed.

You were quickly becoming undone beneath him, your body trembling as the pressure built inside you. Spencer could feel it too, the way your breathing quickened, the way your hips subtly lifted to meet his hand. And in that moment, all that mattered was making sure you felt as good as you possibly could.

"That's it," he murmured against your lips, his voice soft but full of awe. "Just let go, Y/N. I've got you."

Spencer's deep voice, laced with desire and tenderness, sent waves of heat coursing through you, and when you whined, your voice high and breathless, "Harder, faster, I'm so close," it was all he needed to hear.

His breath hitched, eyes darkening as his fingers immediately responded to your plea, pressing harder, moving faster. His focus was entirely on you, on making sure you got exactly what you needed. His lips brushed against your temple as his fingers worked you over, his free hand sliding up to cup your breast through your top, squeezing lightly.

"Like this?" he murmured, his voice rough with concentration, the husky edge to it sending another wave of pleasure through you.

Your back arched as you gasped out, barely able to hold yourself together. "Yes, yes, right there!" The sensation built inside you with a blinding intensity, every nerve in your body alight as Spencer's fingers moved expertly, just how you needed.

He watched your face, utterly captivated by how you were unraveling beneath him, your body trembling with need, your breath coming in shallow, desperate gasps. His fingers pressed even harder, his movements precise and relentless as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.

"Come on," he whispered softly, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth. "Let go for me, Y/N."

That was all it took. Spencer’s deep voice, the way his fingers worked your body, the tension that had been building—it all came crashing down at once. You let out a sharp cry, your body arching into his as the overwhelming wave of pleasure washed over you, your muscles tightening, then releasing in sweet relief.

Spencer slowed his movements as you rode out the high, his hand still gently moving against you, guiding you through the aftershocks. His lips pressed gentle kisses along your jawline, murmuring soft words of praise and affection as you came down from the blissful peak.

"That's it," Spencer whispered, his voice low and tender, filled with awe as he looked down at you. "Wow. You’re so beautiful."

He sat back on his knees, needing to take in the full sight of you beneath him, his chest swelling with an overwhelming sense of admiration. What he saw made his heart race—your flushed face, damp with sweat, your hair slightly stuck to your forehead, the way your chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths. The rolls of your tummy from the way you lay on the couch only made you more irresistible to him.

But what really caught Spencer’s attention was the wet spot beneath you, a clear indication of just how much you had enjoyed yourself. His eyes trailed up slowly, following the evidence of your release until they landed on the source of that wetness, the sight making something primal stir inside him.

He couldn’t help himself—his hand moved instinctively, reaching out to touch you again, his fingers gently brushing over the sensitive, soaked skin. The temptation was too strong, and before he could think about it, his fingers slipped inside you.

You flinched, your body jerking in a mix of oversensitivity and surprise. "S-Spence, wait—" you gasped, your hands grabbing onto his forearm, trying to find something to hold onto as the sensation overwhelmed you.

Spencer froze immediately, his wide eyes snapping up to meet yours. "Sorry!" he blurted out, his voice filled with concern. "I didn’t mean to—are you okay?"

You nodded quickly, your breath still catching in your throat. "Yeah, yeah... just sensitive." You smiled at him softly, appreciating his eagerness and concern, though your body was still recovering from the intensity of the high he had just given you.

Spencer smiled down at you, his lips soft and warm as he leaned in to kiss you gently. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his voice low and husky, though there was a hint of teasing in his tone.

You took a few more deep breaths, your chest rising and falling quickly as your body calmed, but there was no way in hell you’d ever ask him to stop—not when he was making you feel like this. Shaking your head, you looked up at him, a playful glint in your eyes despite the lingering sensitivity. "Absolutely not," you whispered breathlessly.

Spencer’s smirk deepened, satisfaction and mischief dancing across his features. "Didn’t think so," he murmured, clearly pleased with your response. He kissed you again, slower this time, savoring the way your lips felt against his fingers resumed their mission.

His touch was gentler now, coaxing rather than demanding, and the feeling of his fingers moving slowly inside you after you just finished made you shudder, your body responding instantly despite the intensity you had just experienced.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Spencer whispered against your lips, his voice a soft promise, but there was an unmistakable eagerness in his tone. He wanted to keep going, wanted to keep making you feel this way, but only if you were ready.

You nodded, your heart racing again as you gave him the permission he was looking for. "I will," you promised, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, holding onto him as his touch sent more sparks of pleasure through you.

And with that, Spencer’s fingers picked up their rhythm again, slow but deliberate, his eyes never leaving your face as he watched every reaction, every gasp and moan that fell from your lips.

“I—I won’t come like this,” you managed to gasp out as Spencer’s fingers sped up once again, the sensation intense but not quite enough to push you over the edge. 

Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes locked on where his hand was working its magic between your legs. The sound of his voice, low and comforting, sent another wave of warmth through you. “That’s okay, darling,” he said, his words dripping with affection and adoration. “I just wanted to feel you.”

The way he said it—so sincere, so captivated by you—made your breath catch, your body instinctively clenching around his fingers. You groaned, the sensation shooting straight through your core, your body responding to his touch in ways you hadn’t expected.

Spencer noticed your reaction, his smirk growing as his fingers continued to move, sliding in and out of you with steady precision. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “I love the way you feel around me,” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. 

His words, the way his fingers kept you on edge without letting you tip over—it was driving you wild. Even if you couldn’t reach your release like this, the sheer pleasure of having him touch you, of knowing how much he wanted to feel you, was enough to keep you completely captivated in the moment.

You reached up, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as you whispered back, “Keep going, please.” 

Spencer grinned, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he quickened the pace of his fingers just a little more, continuing to enjoy the way your body reacted to his every movement. 

After Spencer had taken his fill, and you were far too sensitive to continue, you giggled, gently pushing him off as you sat up. You reached towards his waistband with a playful smile, teasing, “I can help the next customer now.”

But before you could get far, his hands caught yours, stopping you. When you looked up at him, you saw his face flushing pink, an adorably sheepish expression crossing his features. “I—uh, finished a long time ago,” he confessed, his voice soft, almost shy.

You blinked in surprise, then burst into laughter. “What?” you asked, incredulous but deeply amused. “When?”

Spencer groaned, his face turning even redder as he leaned in, hiding in the crook of your neck. “When you did,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your skin.

Your eyes widened at the confession, a rush of heat pooling in your stomach as you processed what he said. "Fuck, that’s hot," you murmured, the thought of him finishing just from pleasuring you sending a fresh wave of excitement through your already sensitive body.

Spencer pulled back just enough to peek at you, his face still flushed, a mixture of surprise and bashful pride written across his features. “Really?” he asked, almost like he couldn’t believe that you’d find that sexy.

You nodded eagerly, your hands gently running up his chest as you leaned in closer. “Really,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “That’s probably the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” 

Spencer exhaled a small laugh, clearly relieved and a little proud, the tension easing from his shoulders as he kissed you softly. Even though he had been shy about it, your reaction had made him feel comfortable. 

After the intensity of the moment, you both excused yourselves to clean up, laughing softly as Spencer ended up borrowing a pair of your sweatpants. He wore them with a grin, clearly feeling more comfortable now. The two of you tidied up quickly, putting everything in order before settling back into the perfect evening you'd planned.

Before you knew it, your cozy movie night was underway, the two of you curled up on the couch together. The living room was warm and inviting, the soft glow from the screen casting gentle shadows around the room. Spencer's arms were wrapped around you, his head resting against your chest as you absentmindedly played with his curls. The sound of his breathing, steady and peaceful, combined with the soft hum of the movie in the background, made the entire evening feel even more intimate.

It wasn’t long before you felt the subtle weight of Spencer's body relaxing against yours, his breathing slowing as he drifted off to sleep. You smiled to yourself, your heart full as you gazed down at him. His face was peaceful, his usually intense expression softened by sleep, and you couldn’t help but think how lucky you were to have moments like this with him.

Gently, you nudged him awake just enough to move to your bedroom, guiding him carefully as he stirred. Spencer mumbled sleepily, still half-asleep as he followed you, reclaiming his hold on you as soon as you both slipped under the covers. His arms wrapped around you again, his body curling into yours instinctively as you both settled in for the night.

With his warmth surrounding you and the peaceful rhythm of his breathing lulling you, you quickly drifted off, the perfect ending to a night full of closeness and connection.

—

Spencer was incredibly content when he woke up to find his head once again pillowed by your chest. The quiet comfort of the moment filled him with warmth, his body relaxed and his mind at ease for what felt like the first time in ages. You were still asleep, your breathing soft and even, giving him a chance to truly admire your beauty without distraction.

He gently stroked your hair, letting his fingers run through the soft strands as he watched the peaceful rise and fall of your chest. Your eyes fluttered ever so slightly, and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I am so lucky," he whispered softly to himself, the words barely audible in the quiet room.

But then, he noticed a small, sleepy smile forming on your lips. Spencer paused, realizing you were pretending to be asleep. He sighed dramatically, feigning exasperation as he gazed down at you. “I just hope she doesn’t look me up on the internet… she'd find my porno…”

Your eyes popped open immediately, and you sat up with a start, your voice full of shock and amusement. "What?!"

Spencer couldn’t hold back his laugh, his cheeks flushing a bit as he tried to stifle it with his hand. "I’m kidding!" he said quickly, grinning at the horrified look on your face. "It’s just a joke."

You stared at him for a moment before breaking into laughter yourself, smacking his chest playfully. "Don’t scare me like that! I almost believed you!"

Spencer chuckled, rubbing the spot where you hit him. “Sorry, sorry. You were just too cute pretending to be asleep. I couldn’t resist.”

You rolled your eyes, still laughing, but you couldn’t help the warm feeling in your chest at how playful and lighthearted Spencer was with you. “I’ll have to keep my guard up now,” you teased, leaning down to kiss him softly.

“Good idea,” Spencer said, smiling into the kiss. “Though I promise, no more fake confessions. Just real ones.”

"Better not," you warned playfully, your smile soft as you settled back into the warmth of his embrace, the both of you falling back into that easy, affectionate comfort. 

You traced lazy patterns on Spencer’s chest, your fingertips lightly grazing his skin as you asked, “What would I find if I looked you up, really?”

Spencer sighed softly, clearly thinking it over for a moment before answering. "Some peer reviews, research articles, child prodigy stuff, and, uh… probably some news stories from the BAU."

The mention of the BAU caught you off guard. “BAU?” you asked, your voice holding a slight edge of nervousness. You knew Spencer worked for the FBI, but he hadn’t gone into much detail about it.

Spencer, misinterpreting the nervous tone in your voice, mistook it for confusion. “Oh, sorry, the Behavioral Analysis Unit,” he explained casually, not yet realizing the weight of what he was revealing. “It’s the part of the FBI where I work. We profile and catch serial killers, violent criminals, kidnappers… you know, things like that.”

“Oh… yeah,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Sounds scary.”

“It can be,” Spencer admitted softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers lightly brushing through your hair. “But it’s really rewarding too. It’s sweet that you seem concerned.”

You laughed lightly, trying to shake off the lingering nerves. “Yeah,” you said, your tone warmer now as you tried to ease the tension. “Don’t want my boyfriend being in danger.”

The word had slipped out so naturally, but as soon as Spencer picked up on it, his eyes widened in surprise and excitement. “Boyfriend?” he repeated, his voice practically buzzing with joy. “You called me your boyfriend.”

You laughed softly, feeling the warmth of his reaction settle your nerves. “Well, aren’t you?” you teased, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eye.

Spencer’s face lit up, his expression one of pure adoration. “God, I hope so,” he breathed, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and happiness. His arms wrapped around you a little tighter as if he couldn’t quite believe what was happening but didn’t want to let go of the moment.

You smiled, your heart swelling as you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, feeling the soft hum of affection that flowed between you both. “Then kiss me,” you murmured against his lips. “Boyfriend.”

Spencer chuckled, his forehead resting against yours. “I’m not sure how I got so lucky, but I’m not going to question it.” His voice was filled with genuine emotion, as though this moment meant more to him than he could fully express.

You smiled, nuzzling into him, feeling more at home than ever.

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[star-sim]

espresso ☆ sunoo kim

☆ super mega down bad!sunoo x fem! reader ☆ summary: that one time sunoo had a not-so innocent dream about you, and suddenly you're the only thing that consumed all of his senses. the problem? you're the most popular girl at the academy, and he's just a nerd. driven mad by his feelings for you, it felt like his chances with you were next to zero. it's actually much higher than he thought! ☆ genre: dark academia! au, classic popular girl x nerd, a looooot of romantic and sexual frustration LOL, a bit of nerdy lingo , loser and desperate sunoo!! ☆ warning(s)? slightly suggestive, but mostly just pure silliness and fluff :3 ☆ word count: 9.5k ☆ happy belated birthday to sunoo! the sunoo fic disparity is criminal. this is for you @ashtxrie. inspired "espresso" by sabrina carpenter. i hope i did mintchoco king justice. enjoy!

Ugh.

Popular kids.

Sunoo narrowed his eyes, clutching his textbooks even closer to his chest as he walked past the hoard of snobby rich kids. Their expensive pearl necklaces and diamond rings gleamed under the warm hallway lights, but no golden jewelry would take away how downright obnoxious they were.

"How could anyone be so loud right now?" Sunoo grumbled under his breath, pushing up his thin golden-framed glasses. Seriously though, he had a point. There was no reason for anyone at all to be screaming at the top of their lungs at 10 in the morning. But alas, here he was, rolling his eyes at the stuck-up rich kids.

The Academy had a pretty simple admissions system. Either you pay to get in, or you apply and get evaluated based on your application. Most of the students at the Academy were from wealthy families, so they obviously paid to be admitted. Sunoo, on the other hand, had more humbler origins. 

To say that he worked his utmost ass off to even be able to apply was an understatement. It was almost patronizing to see all of these kids born with a silver spoon in their mouth act so carelessly.

They all acted so condescendingly, as if they didn't get admitted because of their father's paycheck.

"What's got your panties in a twist?" A new voice interrupted Sunoo's thoughts. It was his younger friend Riki, who threw an arm around his shoulder. 

"Nothing," Sunoo murmured, tearing his eyes away from the group of popular kids. 

All of them were the same. All arrogant, all pompous, all vain, all—

"Are you sure?" his other friend, Jungwon, joined. "You look a little bit—err— disturbed."

"I'm not."

Riki and Jungwon shared a look.

Okay, maybe not all rich kids were the same. 

Because there were a few exceptions, such as—

"Are you still mad about that one time that snobby little Sanghyeok threw a ball at you?" Riki asked, blinking owlishly.

"No, what are you—"

"He's a rugby player, isn't he?" Jungwon thought aloud. "Geez, all the rugby players love tossing that goddamn football around, don't they?"

"Erm, actually, it's called a rugby ball," Riki corrected in a nasally voice.

"Whatever. It doesn't matter. Why would anyone throw those around? It's like a ball of concrete!"

Sunoo tuned his younger friends' bickering out. He'll admit it, he's just a little bit of a hater. 

Among the snobby rich kids, there's definitely a few exceptions. Jay Park was a pretty cool guy, and so was Jake Sim. Sunoo could've sworn that there's one more person that he didn't mind too much... He just couldn't remember who....

"Watch out!"

It happened so quickly, because one moment Sunoo was lost in thought. And the next, a rugby ball was hurling at him, pummeling him square in the head.

Not again, was the last thing he thought of before he fell to the ground, blacking out.

"Aw man, you hit the nerd again?!"

"Hey, I didn't mean to— Ack!"

Sunoo stirred. It was weird. He could feel himself gain consciousness, but his head and body were pounding. Excruciatingly.

He could hear a little bit of arguing and a few masculine voices, all muffled yet somehow also painful to his ears.

"Quiet down," a new voice entered. It was a voice that Sunoo recognized, a voice that was much kinder and softer on his ears, almost healing. "If you keep yelling, you'll overwhelm him."

Whose voice was this? Sunoo knows that he knows this voice, but he couldn't quite put his finger on who.

Then, Sunoo felt a few gentle fingers run through his hair, and then a cold, ice compress pressed on his forehead.

"Just leave," the voice told the others. "Get to class. I'll take care of him."

There's some murmuring, and then some shuffling, and finally, the door slammed shut.

And the moment that it did, Sunoo's eyes shot open.

The first thing that he's met with as full consciousness pervades his body is a sharp pain everywhere, much more amplified and extreme this time.

The second thing that Sunoo sees is... you.

Of course, that makes sense now. You were the voice, and you were the person he was thinking about earlier. You were one of the exceptions to his "all rich kids are annoying" gag.

Of course you were.

Everyone knew you, and everyone loved you. Who wouldn't?

You were incredibly sweet, had a knack for calling everyone with affectionate nicknames, and every reason why Sunoo couldn't bring himself to hate everyone in the popular crowd. He's had a few classes with you in the past few years. You weren't the top student or academically driven by any means, but he could sense your effort. 

Not to mention, you were really pretty. It was no secret that every single guy in school wanted a chance with you. Sunoo wasn't like that, but he wasn't going to sit there and deny that your face was nice to look at. Truthfully, it was difficult to not like you, one way or another.

In total, Sunoo's spoken to you a total of probably four times. Nevertheless, you were a lot more than just tolerable, compared to the rest of your peers.

Now Sunoo was in the infirmary, after that rugby ball smacked him right in the head and knocked him out. He was lying down on the gurney, a cold compress to his head. And you were taking care of him.

"You're up, sweetheart," you said softly, jumping to your feet once you realized that Sunoo was awake. You handed him his glasses that were folded neatly on the table, and then you went to the shelves. Sunoo attempted to raise himself up to sit, but almost immediately he was met with that horrible, aching pain again.

"Aghh!" he groaned, dropping himself instantly and clutching onto the ice pack on his head. 

You hissed, scurrying over to his side. 

"Don't move," you instructed him. Sunoo got a good look at your face now. Pretty, as always, but you had a pinched expression. You looked frustrated, and as you unfurled the bundle of bandages that you fetched from the shelf, your eyes traveled to him and almost looked apologetic. "Let's get you fixed up, sweetie."

Very gently, almost as if you were dealing with glass, you lifted Sunoo's head just enough so that you could wrap bandages around his forehead.

"Is that okay?" you asked him quietly, your nimble fingers brushing against his skin gently. 

"Mmm—" Sunoo was cut off by a guttural sound in his throat— "Mhm."

You pushed his dark locks out of the way, humming.

While you worked on him, Sunoo couldn't help but notice how.... concerned you looked. As a matter of fact, where were the rest of your friends? Where was that bastard Sanghyeok that threw the damn rugby ball at him in the first place? 

It wasn't like you were a student nurse or anything. Aside from just being a nice person, what reason did you have to go out of your way to fix Sunoo up? It wasn't like you were the one that threw the ball.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, your brows furrowing together. Something was on your mind. 

"I'm sorry," you finally blurted, your eyes wide and nearly glassy.

???

"Wha—"

"I'm sorry that Sanghyeok threw that ball at you," you continued, words spilling from your glossy lips like a waterfall, your eyes trained onto the floor and your head hung low. As words tumbled out, you stopped your ministrations on him, your hands taking solace on the hem of your uniform skirt. "I-It was very wrong of him, and it's even worse that you're now injured, and—"

"Why are you apologizing?" Sunoo interrupted you, though with labored breaths between his words, as he didn't want to hurt himself.

You frowned even harder, your fingers wringing each other. "B-But—"

Sunoo's face scrunched. "You didn't throw the ball at me. Sanghyeok did, so there's no reason for you to say sorry to me."

You shook your head. 

"Still!" you huffed, your cheeks filling with air as you tapped your foot. You let out an exasperated breath. It smelled of coffee. "I know that it's not my fault, but— but that doesn't make what happened right."

Sunoo opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off, beginning your ministrations once again. "I'm just doing what's right."

By the end of the school day, Sunoo got out of the nurse's office, just slightly stumbling. His head still hurt, but thanks to you, who missed a few classes, it hurt a lot less than it should have. Once again, you proved that you weren't as bad as the rest. 

If it was any other day, Sunoo would go to the library to fit in a few hours of studying, but after today's events, he just wanted to go back to his dorm.

It's been a long, stressful, and painful day. 

The moment that Sunoo's dorm door shut, he made a bee-line for his bed, completely ignoring his roommate Sunghoon. He threw off his uniform shirt and tie, peeling them off like they were some nuisance. 

And just like that, the second that Sunoo's head hit the pillow, he knocked out.

Sunoo opened his eyes and he was in a bed. Not his own bed, but a softer, much more comfortable bed. 

He felt a warm—really warm— almost fuzzy, feeling in his chest. Sunoo's hands feel around the bed. The sheets are smooth and clean, and under his fingertips they wrinkle ever-so slightly. Now that he was looking around, it seemed to be early morning, with rays of sunlight peeking through the windows. In fact, this dorm room wasn't his. It smelled of espresso coffee, and was so pristine and neat.

Sunoo didn't notice it now, but all the pain he was supposed to be feeling disappeared. And just as he was about to get up to his feet to inspect, someone appeared at the doorway.

You.

"You're up, sleepyhead?" you said, leaning on the doorway as a sly smile spread across your face. 

Why was he in your room? 

And more importantly, why were you in only a bathrobe? 

Sunoo looked down, and that's when he realized that he, too, was shirtless.

Instead of responding how he'd want to— confused out of his mind— words tumbled out of his lips, almost like he had no control over them. "I was waiting for you."

You giggled, pretty sounds falling from your pretty lips. You slowly sauntered over to the foot of your bed, your gentle hands coming down to brush against Sunoo's leg.

"You look so handsome, sweetheart," you rasped. The warmth and fuzziness that he felt earlier began to spread from his chest to his entire body.

And the next thing that Sunoo knew, you were on top of him. Your lips pressed wet kisses all over his bare chest. Sticky gloss clung to his flushed skin, leaving pretty lipstick marks across his skin. 

"God, I want you so bad," you groaned, before taking his skin between your teeth. You sucked on it gently, earning a gasp from the boy. You giggled into his ear.

By now, Sunoo was burning up completely. Each graze of your lips was like a scorching hot iron piercing his skin, but it burned so good. If it weren't for his fingers that dug into the crisp bed sheets, or the way that you gripped his chin, Sunoo would have fainted already. Each gasp for air as you marked his soft skin was ripped from his throat, hot lines of electricity running through his veins. 

"Please..." Sunoo pleaded through a strangled whimper, letting out a soft moan when you bit onto his ear, your warm breath brushing up against his skin in a way that made him shudder. "Please, [Name]."

Everything before had a haze over it, a blurry screentone cast over Sunoo's eyes.

But as you looked up at him through your pretty eyelashes, lips swollen from abusing his skin, Sunoo swore that he could see everything so clearly. Every line on your face, every shadow and every highlight, every blemish and every perfection— he could see all of it.

"Please, what?" you murmured, your lips spreading into a grin. "What are you begging for, sweetheart?"

And it drove him crazy.

Sunoo threw his head back, an airy moan tumbling from his lips, giving you better access to his neck. 

"I need you," he whined, his chest heaving up and down as he failed to catch his breath. "Please, I need you so bad."

You giggled again, pressing a hand against his chest.

"Anything you want you get—"

Beep beep! That was an eerily familiar alarm sound, one that was familiar enough to make Sunoo's head whip around.

You looked unfazed, only giggling again before leaning in to press soft kisses on his chest. 

Beep beep!

There it was again! This time, Sunoo's body jerked at the sound, his face scrunching. Why weren't you reacting?

"Focus on me, sweetie," you whispered in his ear. 

Sunoo complied (because of course he did), closing his eyes as you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. And just as he was beginning to forget that godforsaken sound, sinking into the sweet taste of your lips...

Beep beep!

Sunoo couldn't help the way that he jerked away from you.

And as he did, Sunoo jerked awake.

His eyes shot open.

Dark room, completely drenched in sweat, burning up, and unfortunately alone.

"I swear, you always look like someone pissed you off."

"Right? He always looks so... constipated?"

On most days, Sunoo could endure his friends' teasing. Not this morning though.

He woke up from that dream completely disoriented. With his hair disheveled and face flushed, Sunoo arose from his slumber with beads of sweat running down his temple. It took him four more rings of his alarm clock and his roommate yelling at him to truly regain his consciousness— for while he was physically awake, he wasn't truly awake. Not after a dream like that.

Sunoo told everyone so far that he woke up with a fever, which was true. His cheeks were bright red, and his skin was hot to the touch, as he was bundled up in a few layers of coats. 

Truthfully, his physical condition wasn't what was causing him to be so disoriented.

It was you.

What the fuck was that dream? 

Usually, Sunoo couldn't remember his dreams, even if they were fever dreams. But now sitting in the dining hall, nibbling on his breakfast, Sunoo could remember every little thing so clearly in his mind. 

He could remember how your room looked, how your bathrobe made your skin look so beautiful, how your plump lips felt against his chest, how fucking gorgeous you look—

Clank!

Sunoo dropped his fork onto the table, the metal cutlery clanking with the porcelain plates around him.

"What's up with him?" Jungwon not-so-quietly whispered to Riki. The two watched, perplexed, as Sunoo's cheeks turned even more red, the older boy's tired eyes squeezing shut as he hid his face in his palms. 

Sunoo groaned, looking through his palms to look at his friends' confused expressions.

He felt hot. Maybe it was the fever. 

He looked down at his palms, the reddy patches sticky with a thin sheen of sweat. 

Definitely not just the fever.

He couldn't get your voice out of his head.

It was well-known that you liked to call everyone a nickname of sorts. It seemed like his nickname was "sweetheart."

Sunoo knew it was innocent, especially when you were fixing him up yesterday. But now with a new context—the context of his not-so innocent dream where you rasped "sweetheart" into his ear— he couldn't help but feel shy.

Sunoo's chest heaved. His tweed coat felt too thick now. His fingertips were held together by threads, and if he wasn't careful, he'd burst with blazing plasma. 

Tuning out his friends, Sunoo couldn't stop his mind from drifting back to last night's dream. 

He'd absolutely combust if he saw you again. Sunoo had no idea how he'd even look you in the eye, after doing unthinkable things with you in his dream.

God, there was no way that he'd ever let anyone, let alone you, find out about this. He felt like some pervert, some sick creep using you to fuel his nasty fantasies. He was not, but he sure felt like it.

Sunoo didn't dare look anywhere except down at his plate. If he did, he feared that he would catch sight of you, and completely die. As a matter of fact, even hearing the names of your friends in passing made his stomach do flips. 

The school bell rang, and now Sunoo had to drag himself to class. Murmuring a small good-bye to his friends, his heavy footsteps took him where his first period morning class would be.

Gosh, he fell asleep almost immediately last night! Quick, was there homework that he was supposed to complete? His morning class started with his elective, botany. 

Botany, botany, botany, he repeated in his head, jotting his memory. There weren't any notes due until the end of the week, and the closest test from today is two weeks. So why did he feel like he was missing something? Was there a presentation that he didn't remember? Maybe they were having a lab today and he forgot to bring his gloves. Or maybe—

Sunoo stopped in his tracks.

Just as he was cooling down, he felt his skin erupt with goosebumps, warmth overtaking his entire body.

If it weren't for his acute awareness of his surroundings, Sunoo would have tripped over his feet.

Because you decided to appear.

Oh fuck, why were you right there? Standing across the hall from him, all prettied up and completely oblivious to the hell that you were putting Sunoo through.

Had you always looked so pretty? 

Of course, Sunoo recalled how perfect your face looked at all times, how jaw-dropping you managed to look even when you didn't try. The way that the light reflected off your skin made you look like you were glowing. Like a halo.

Sunoo's face burned. You definitely looked prettier in real life than in his dream. Not even the intricate workings of his brain could capture your beauty.

A strangled noise escaped Sunoo's throat, his face turning as white as a ghost, eyes big as saucers. 

No, no, no! Sunoo squeezed his eyes shut. Of course. He had morning Botany with you! How could he forget!

"Move, you nerd!" someone grumbled as they shoved past him. Usually, on any other day, Sunoo would cuss back at them, maybe shove past them even harder. But all he could do now was stand back dazed.

He forced himself to pick up his feet again. After all, class was starting, and the bell would ring in a matter of minutes. 

What was harder than pulling himself out of his daze was walking into that Botany lecture hall. Sunoo didn't dare look anywhere that wasn't his shoes, in fear that if he even caught a glimpse of you, he'd evaporate.

With quick, hasty steps, Sunoo scurried along the sides of the hall, ignoring the little hi's and good morning's from his classmates. 

And just as he thought he successfully made it to his seat...

"Good morning, Kim!"

To say that Sunoo nearly jumped out of his skin would be an understatement. 

As you appeared before his seat, seemingly out of thin air, Sunoo felt every inch of his body flare up with warmth. 

You looked even better up-close.

"Oh— Uh—" Sunoo couldn't help the way he stared at you with wide eyes, his lips agape. 

"Good— Um, Good morning, [N-Name]," was all he could manage out.

You stared at him for a few moments, blinking a few times, before a wide smile broke out on your lips. 

You reached out, your hand resting gently on the crown of his head, completely oblivious to the way that the boy tensed under your touch. "How does your head feel, sweetheart?"

Sunoo completely forgot that he'd sustained a head injury earlier. How could he remember when something (or someone) else was making his head hurt?

"I-It's good!" he stammered quickly, words tripping over themselves. "I'm good!"

You cocked your head, your brows furrowing. 

"No one picked on you, right?" you looked around, leaning closer to him— close enough that he could feel your breath on his neck. "Did any of my friends try bothering you again?"

Sunoo flushed at the proximity. This was feeling a little too familiar.

"No!" Sunoo nearly shouted. When everyone turned to look at him weirdly, the room falling silent for a mere second, he muttered a quick sorry. "I mean— No, n-no one bothered me again."

You nodded slowly, before you brought your hand to his forehead. "You're feeling a little warm, sweetie. You aren't sick, aren't you?"

If he had less self-awareness, Sunoo would have run around that lecture hall a few times, dunked his face in a bucket of iced water, and maybe even screamed a few times before answering your question. But he couldn't, so all he could do was shake his head no.

"Good," you said with a smile. "I'll see you around."

With that, you turned on your heel, and went back to your seat. 

Class started, but Sunoo couldn't quite focus.

Sunoo felt like this had to be some joke. It felt like Jungwon or Riki were about to come out behind the curtains and scream "Gotcha!" in his face.

Because why on earth were you and him on the same path to the boys' dormitory?

After his daily study session in the library, Sunoo figured that the chances of him running into you again would be low.

But lo and behold, as Sunoo was on his way back to his dorm, you materialized from thin air and started walking with him. In silence, of course, but you greeted him with a smile.

Even after 10 hours of being out and about, you still managed to look so perfect.

In all the years that he'd attended this Academy, Sunoo's never seen you take this route, let alone go to the boys' dormitory.

Did you have a boyfriend? Or a special relationship with a boy? Sunoo's stomach dropped. What if he's been thinking about you all this time when you were taken already?

Sunoo opened his mouth to talk, but you beat him to it.

"Sooo, Sunoo," you said in a dreamy, sing-songy voice. "How's your day been?"

Torture, because of you. "I-It's been okay."

You hummed. "That's good to hear."

.

.

.

Silence.

It wasn't like he was in love with you. But for some reason, it bothered Sunoo that you could be heading to the boys' dorm for a possible boyfriend. He just needed to know.

"Where are you— Where are you headed?" Sunoo winced at his question. You probably thought he was weird now. He felt hot all over.

You smiled, clicking your tongue with a playful eye roll. "Just to my cousin's dorm. He just transferred here so my parents want me to help him move in."

Sunoo blinked.

Oh.

"Th-That's nice," Sunoo quipped. "I'm just going back to my— uh— dorm."

Of course he'd be going back to his own dorm! Sunoo chided in his head. You definitely thought he was an idiot by now.

The trip up the stairs and down the hall was quiet, awfully silent— only the distant sound of students and footsteps filling the air.

Eventually, the two of you met a stop.

"I should be turning at this corner now; his room is just down that hall," you said to him, earning a nod. "Thanks for walking with me, Sunoo."

"Of course," Sunoo said back shyly, a small smile on his lips. " 'It's my pleasure."

"No seriously," you continued, a bashful smile on your lips. "The halls during this time of year are a little sketchy. Sometimes, I can't even trust my own guy friends to walk me."

Sunoo cocked his head.

"The point is," you said, your eyes unwavering as they met with Sunoo's eyes, "You make me feel safe."

Before Sunoo could respond, you shot him a kind smile, before turning on your heel. "Good night, sweetheart!"

Sunoo was rendered speechless, staring at your retreating back.

"Good night," he muttered under his breath, not audible even to himself. "Sweetheart."

(He definitely thought about this interaction later into the night, and burned up severely.)

Although no one would guess it, the next few weeks were hell for Sunoo. It was almost terrifying.

How did you manage to show up everywhere?

Truly, it felt like everywhere Sunoo went, you just happened to show up. 

It started with little things. In the middle of class you would come in to give back a sweater you borrowed from your friend. Sometimes you would come in and sit at the back of class to make up a test that you missed, or to ask the professor any question you had about the upcoming assignment. Each time, you'd wave at Sunoo, sometimes even before you waved at your friends.

All normal, of course. Every time he'd see you, he'd immediately straighten his back to make sure his posture was perfect— maybe even brush his hair out of his eyes and adjust his glasses, all in the hopes that if you looked at him, he wouldn't be a pain to view.

All as if he wasn't screaming on the inside. There was just something about how you always had that dreamy look in your eye, like a princess. How could he possibly look you in the eye? 

Sunoo wanted to look perfect and pristine for you, but at the same time, he wanted to disappear under your gaze. Sometimes, he wanted to disappear because he simply couldn't handle the power that your eyes had. Other times he wanted to disappear so that he could look at you— observe every line, perfection, and imperfection of your face— without the existence of others around him.

No matter the time, one thing was common: Sunoo always turned four shades redder whenever you walked into the room. And it was frustrating.

"Why are you red?"

"You look embarrassed. Did you fart or something?"

"Tomato boy."

It was embarrassing, especially because his seatmates always ended up being the biggest assholes anyway.

Then, you began waving to him in the hallway. It started with small waves, sometimes with you mouthing hi or hello. But then you'd sometimes run up to him with a wide smile just to say hi.

Maybe you were just really nice, Sunoo thought, though he'd be lying if he said that he didn't wish you were giving him special treatment. In fact, it made him feel sick just thinking about how you called your friends cute pet names like darling, too. He almost had to excuse himself to the washroom when thinking about you calling other people sweetheart. You were bound to, of course, but that didn't mean that Sunoo particularly liked that idea.

All of these were small little things, pretty insignificant in the grand scheme of things, especially considering that you were the most popular girl in school.

But then it started getting bad.

And it wasn't your fault.

Why— just why— did you have to be in every single one of his dreams?

The first dream he had about you was already enough. Why did he need a bajillion more?

The dreams ranged from extremely mundane to scary to a bit... raunchy. And yet, you still managed to be in every single one of them.

In the mundane ones, you'd be the person that mutters a remark to him before disappearing. 

In the scary ones, you'd be the person that Sun threw over his shoulder as he ran away from the undead. 

In the raunchy ones, you'd be under him, your arms thrown around his neck as he lays wet kisses on your skin, basking in the pretty sounds that you make— Too much!

He couldn't help it. He really couldn't.

There were times where Sunoo was afraid to go to sleep. Not because seeing you was a bad thing, but because the aftermath was always bad.

Sunoo always woke up sweaty and burning up. He'd trudge to the shared bathroom and splash water on his face. No matter how cold the water was, whenever he closed his eyes all he could see was your face. Your pretty, pretty, face. You seemed to get prettier with every dream, yet dream-you couldn't ever compare to real life-you.

Seeing your face wasn't the problem. He loved to see it. The problem was that every time he saw your face Sunoo would get all clammy and mushy and warm on the inside. His cheeks would burn, and he'd feel warm all over. 

And the hardest part was that every single time, all he could hear was your voice calling him "sweetheart" — over and over, in a hypnotizing cadence that only made him want to fall into your essence even more.

It was weird.

So, so, weird.

And Sunoo thought that he was going to die.

It seemed like Sunoo was always in for a surprise.

By the end of the month, Sunoo managed to convince himself to forget about his dreams completely. 

After all, after a few days of doing his best to avoid you, he was able to assure himself that all of these feelings would disappear with time, since his attraction to you was random anyway.

Sure, you're pretty, Sunoo told himself. And very kind and sweet, but it wasn't like you and him were best buds. So whatever delusion that was going on in his head was bound to go nowhere. He was just being a teenager, probably.

He'd never felt this way towards anyone before. It was best to just ignore it.

Sunoo clenched his fists. Yeah, he'd do his damn best to ignore it.

But as he was in line in the Academy's library, preparing to check out a new book about whatever topic he wanted to read up on, Sunoo felt a pair of hands clutch his shoulders.

"Hi, Sunoo!"

Sunoo whipped his head around and jolted, a small "Ah!" leaving his lips. Startled, he nearly dropped his massive hunk of a book, earning a glare from the snobby student-librarians. 

It was you.

The moment that he laid eyes on you and your silly little grin, Sunoo's resolve weakened. Like walls of a fortified castle crumbling under the force of a cannon, if Sunoo didn't look away now he'd be absolutely beat. 

"H— Hey there, [Name]," he said quietly, tearing his eyes away from you and turning back to the front, holding his book close to his chest.

"Whatcha got there?" you asked him curiously. He could still feel your hands on his shoulders squeezing him playfully.

Sunoo looked down at his book.

Thematic Cartography and Geovisualization?

Oh god, you were definitely going to think he was a nerd.

"Nothing..." he murmured, clutching the book even closer to him.

You shook him by his shoulders playfully, a little chuckle coming from your lips. "Oh, c'mon! I know that massive book isn't just 'nothing.' What're you reading?"

"It's..." Sunoo winced. "It's embarrassing."

You pouted, a little hmph! coming from you.

"Next!" the librarian called, and Sunoo moved forward in the line to check out his book, though he was distracted by the way that you still continued to cling to him.

"You didn't— You didn't get a book?" Sunoo asked as you followed him to a library table, your hands empty.

"Nope," you said smoothly. "I'm just here to study!"

"Oh." Sunoo blinked, pushing up his glasses. It was quiet and he didn't know what to say. "What are you studying?"

"I'll tell you," you smiled, "Only if you tell me what your book is about."

He sighed. Sunoo sat down, and naturally, you followed suit, sitting across from him. He plopped his massive book down onto the table, and slowly slid it over to you.

Your brows furrowed together as you read its title.

Sunoo's cheeks burned. You definitely think he's some nerd. How embarrassing.

You finally looked up at him. Only, instead of looking at him with condescension or ridicule, you looked embarrassed.

"Um," your brows knitted together further. "What's cartography?"

Sunoo stared at you. You don't think he's weird?"

"I-I'm sorry," you continued, letting out a deep breath. You looked perplexed. "I'm not very smart. I don't know what cartography is. Or what geo-something-something is. Can you explain it to me?"

He stared at you again.

After what you just said, there was no way that he'd possibly let his feelings for you fade away. There were a lot of things that Sunoo couldn't agree with when it came to the popular kids at his school. But here he understood why hoards of boys would be at your feet, begging for just one chance.

The corners of his lips lifted. The bashful look on your face was... cute.

"It's okay," he began. "Cartography is just the science of making maps."

You looked even more confused, but also relieved. Relieved that he wasn't going to make fun of you for not knowing. "There's a science behind making maps?"

"Hm," Sunoo paused to think, "Not exactly. But there's a lot of thought that goes behind making maps."

"Why?"

Sunoo thought he was going to fall in love. He loved his friends, of course, but none of them were ever as curious about his interests as you were.

"Well," Sunoo's hands joined to make a circular shape. "The Earth is a three-dimensional globe." You nodded to show that you were listening, staring at him with curious eyes. "Imagine even trying to transfer a 3D globe onto a flat, two-dimensional surface. It's pretty difficult to do without intense distortion."

You nodded slowly, your eyes narrowing.

"Was I rambling?" Sunoo asked quietly, so quietly that he didn't even think you could hear him.

"No!" you jumped to answer, earning a glare from the librarian. "I'm just trying to process it."

After a few moments of silence, you sucked in a deep breath. "I get it now, sweetie. You're so smart."

"Th-Thank you..." Sunoo stuttered out. Did he really just ramble to you about maps? And did you actually just listen to him with interest? "What are you studying?"

"Oh, me?" you looked down, embarrassed again. "It's just history. I can't wrap my head around it and I have an exam next Wednesday."

"Oh...." Sunoo blinked. "I can help you."

And that's how he got invited to your dorm.

(And to hell with forgetting his feelings!)

Truth be told, you weren't the person that everyone thought you were.

It seemed like, to the rest of the school, you were just a perfect little angel. And the fact that you rejected every guy that made advances toward you only helped that image grow.

Everyone thought you were perfect, beautiful, and most of all, untouchable.

And that couldn't be any further than the truth.

The truth was simply that no one was good enough for you. 

Everyone had an essence of snobbery to them, something that you just couldn't get past. You wanted someone raw and genuine, someone that had more substance to them than just their daddy's money.

Which was why you wanted Sunoo Kim.

And you wanted him bad.

There was something so fucking attractive amount the way he'd push up his glasses, eyes squinting to get a better look of the board as he messily jotted down notes.

There was something so charming about the way he clenched his jaw when he was concentrated, his brows furrowing.

There was something that made your stomach flip whenever he rolled up his sleeves to do some math problem that you probably couldn't understand.

There was something that made you so obsessed whenever he swiped his tongue over his plush lips, his eyes brightening as he explained his favorite topic.

God, you didn't just want him. You needed him.

All these years, you did everything with him at the back of your mind. Would Sunoo Kim look up from his massive textbook if you wore this skirt? Maybe he'd even breathe in your direction if you got a better grade on this exam. 

You didn't get it. Everyone looked at you, yet the only person that you wanted to look at you did not.

You wanted Sunoo Kim, and you wanted him bad.

You and Sunoo agreed to meet on Monday and Tuesday to help you study for your history exam on Wednesday.

On Monday, the two of you met in the library right after school. It was a quiet, focused session, covering all the necessary sections in a short amount of time. For the first time ever, you actually understood the concepts!

On Tuesday, the two of you agreed to meet in your dorm at 7PM, because that was when you knew your roommates would be gone.

You glanced at the analogue clock pinned high on the wall near the entrance of your dormitory. Every dorm room had one, as mandated by the school to promote punctuality— all the exact same model with a red-brown base, serif lettering, and a gold trim. Yet, the clock in your dorm felt slower, much slower than it should.

6:47PM, it read, the slow ticks pushing off the walls as if to tease you.

Couldn't 7PM come any faster?

Your eyes fell over to your roommate's mirror in the corner of her desk. 

The Academy's uniform was strict. Collared button-up, the school blazer with its crest crisply embroidered on, for girls the skirt at a reasonable length: it was all very stringent. All students were required to wear the uniform during school hours.

This study session with Sunoo would not be during school hours. You picked out your best top— a pretty, white top with a delicate lace trim. You always got the most stares when you wore this one (and hopefully, Sunoo would stare at you).

You never thought that you had to put any more effort into your appearance than you usually did, but as the clock ticked on the wall, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious.

You knew you were pretty, but what if Sunoo didn't think the same? Did you look weird today? You swore your face was feeling puffy earlier— should you do something? What if you suddenly woke up today and you morphed into a frog-like creature, and everybody knew except you?

You picked at your fingernails as you waited (im)patiently for 7PM to come. Your palms felt a little clammy, and your heart pounded in your chest with each passing minute.

And finally, just when all of your self-confidence was beginning to slip from your grasp, you heard a knock at your door.

If it was anybody else, you would've taken your time to get to the door, maybe even shout a little "Just a minute!"

But because it was the Sunoo Kim, you couldn't help but eagerly scurry to the door. You would've been embarrassed because Sunoo could 100% hear your loud footsteps as you rushed to the door, but you were too engulfed by your nerves to even think of it.

"Hi, sweetheart!" you blurted the second you opened your door, a bright smile on your face. There Sunoo stood, with his delicate face and thin gold-rim glasses, looking composed and focused as ever. And god did that make you want him.

"Oh, hi," Sunoo said coolly, pushing up the glasses on his nose. Though, you missed the way his eyes twitched, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as he sucked in a sharp breath.

The two of you stood at the door for a few moments, just staring at each other. Your smile never faltered. If anyone were to see you, they'd see hearts in your eyes and a sparkly, pink lovey-dovey aura radiating off of you.

"Come in!" you said cheerfully, letting the boy into your dorm.

The two of you got to work pretty quickly. If there was one thing about Sunoo that you could appreciate, it was his sheer willpower and concentration when it came to academics.

It wasn't like you didn't try in school. That couldn't be further from the truth; you always tried your best, even when your best didn't earn you the best marks. 

Sunoo was just another level. You couldn't understand how he did it. He was so focused and intelligent, it made your chest feel warm and fuzzy.

The moment that he stepped inside, he had your textbook and notes cracked open immediately, asking you questions that were just a little too difficult for your mind to wrap around.

"What?!" you cried, your face scrunching as jumbled words that you couldn't understand fell from his lips. You looked at Sunoo incredulously. "We did not study that!"

You could have sworn Sunoo chuckled at your confusion, his eyes squeezing into thin crescents as the corner of his lips lifted. Usually, you'd feel embarrassed for not quite being the brightest, but Sunoo never made you feel that way.

"Lee is your professor," Sunoo pushed up his glasses, unable to hold back airy chuckles at your outrage. You nodded. "Well, he's notorious for his ridiculous trick questions, right? As your study-buddy, it's my duty to prepare you as best as I can."

That's when you got up from your desk chair and flopped over onto your bed, groaning into your pillows. 

"Why do you have to be so thoroughhhh?" you whined, kicking your feet.

Your heart fluttered when Sunoo laughed. 

Yes, laughed. 

It was high-pitched and breathy, like he was sucking in breaths of air only to push it out with a pretty giggle.

You whipped your head around, picking it up from the pillow. You stared at the boy with wide eyes. 

God, how could anyone be so beautiful?

You watched the boy laugh, completely and utterly infatuated with him. He was so cute. You needed him now.

You threw your head back into the pillow, continuing to groan and whine, in the hopes that it would make him laugh.

"You hate meeeeeee," you whined, "You hate meeeee!"

"I don't!" Sunoo laughed, his hands slapping his knees, "I don't hate you."

You whined again, kicking your feet. "You doooo."

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, filled with quiet giggles. From your desk, Sunoo nudged you with his foot, earning another cute whine from you.

You were cute. And hardworking and enthusiastic. But that wasn't a surprise to Sunoo. 

Sunoo watched as you shouted at your roommate who came back to the dorm to fetch something she left behind.

"Hurry up, Yujin!" you chided quietly, trying to get Yujin out of the dorm as quickly as possible... before your momentum with Sunoo was lost. "Move it, move it!"

"Geez, sorry!" Yujin rummaged through her things, trying to look for whatever she forgot. 

When Yujin finally left, you never closed the door any fast, eagerly turning back to Sunoo and plopping down on your bed.

"Sorry, sweetie" you murmured, a frown on your face. "My friends are having a party tonight and Yujin forgot her lipstick, or something. Her stupid crush is there so she needs to look 'perfect' or whatever."

"Party?" Sunoo cocked a brow.

"Yeah," you rolled your eyes. "It's for someone's birthday."

Sunoo narrowed his eyes. 

Did you skip your friends' birthday party just to study for your history exam? 

.

.

.

Pause.

Did you just ditch your friends just to study with him?

A strange noise came out of Sunoo's lips as his cheeks felt warm.

Relax, he thought. It wasn't like it was a date or anything. Surely, you were just trying to get a good grade. That's why you chose to study instead of party.

"I was gonna go," you said smoothly, looking at your nails, "But how could I miss out on time with you?"

Sunoo's ears burned. 

"Oh— Well—" Just as words were becoming coherent in his head, you just had to drop that on him. He spluttered. "Thank you...? I-I— I mean—"

You chuckled. You got off the bed and joined Sunoo again at your desk. "Let's study, sweetheart."

For the next hour or so, the two of you were in a deep study session. Every word that you read and every word that fell from Sunoo's mouth, you soaked up like a sponge. You needed to pass this exam, and even more, you needed to make Sunoo's efforts worth it. He already spent yesterday and today helping you; you did not want to waste his time and fail.

Your dorm room was quiet now. Other than the sound of pages turning, pencils on parchment, and the distant sound of partying down the halls, the room was silent. From time to time, someone would run down the halls, probably running after their friend. You and Sunoo would look up at each other and share a chuckle.

You had just finished a practice test a few minutes ago, and now Sunoo was grading it for you. Meanwhile, you read up on your notes once again. Holding the notebook up, you hid behind it, creating a wall between you and Sunoo. 

You feared that if you could see Sunoo, you wouldn't be able to concentrate.

Well, just him being in the same room as you was already enough to make your mind drift. How could you not?

His concentrated expression made you feel weak to your knees, his fox-like eyes drilling into your practice test. His skin looked so perfect and airbrushed, you just wanted to pounce on him and mark it up and—

Okay, too far.

But still.

You've been studying for a good hour now. It wouldn't hurt to take a break, right?

You peeked over the side of your notebook to catch a glimpse of Sunoo. He was minding his own business and doing it quietly, but he looked so good that you couldn't tear your eyes away.

Yep, this was the break that your eyes needed, from those hunking paragraphs of text and difficult-to-read stimuli.

"Do you need something?" Sunoo asked, not moving his eyes from the practice test that he was currently grading. 

You felt your cheeks heat up. How did he notice your staring so quickly? This must mean that he could always notice you staring at him! Fuck, fuck, fuck, were you weird? He definitely thought you were weird now, and—

"N-Nothing," you stammered out, immediately burying yourself back into your notebook. In fact, you even went as far as turning your entire back from him out of embarrassment.

.

.

.

So embarrassing!

"I don't mind..." Sunoo murmured.

You snapped your head over to him. "W-What?"

Did you hear him correctly?

"I said..." This time, it was Sunoo's turn to hide his head behind the paper, making it impossible for you to see face. "I said I don't mind if you stare at me."

You felt light-headed.

Everything— from the deep espresso scent in the air to Sunoo's soft cologne to the way his moles littered his skin to the way he was sat so attractively at your desk, spouting intelligent nonsense at you to the very way that his glasses sat on his nose— everything about Sunoo was driving you mad.

Insane.

You didn't feel like yourself. You didn't feel like the perfect angel that everyone wanted you to be.

You felt like a selfish animal about to pounce on another. You felt like you were going to sink your teeth into his neck and ravage him.

Your head was spinning. Everything was spinning. Your skin felt hot, your mouth dry, as if it needed something to satiate it now. You were thirsty, thirsty for Sunoo, and nothing would be able to satisfy you but him.

And before you could even control yourself, you threw aside your notebook, grabbed Sunoo's face, and smashed your lips against his.

In that moment, it felt like all time stopped.

You couldn't feel anything, other than your hands that delicately clutched Sunoo's face, and your lips that were pressed against his. Your heart pounded in your ears. You felt like you were tied to a pyre, burnt like a sinner at the stake, yet it felt good.

But the moment that you heard Sunoo's breath hitch in his throat, a guttural sound tumbling out, you regained your senses.

Immediately, you pulled away, stumbling back as you caught your breath.

Sunoo's face was bright red as he stared at you. He took heavy breaths, almost like he wasn't breathing before.

"I-I'm—" you blurted, your mind not quite thinking straight. When your eyes met with Sunoo's you nearly bursted. "I-I'm so sorry— I don't know what came over me."

Sunoo only stared at you.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. What on earth did you just do? Suddenly, you were hit with regret and embarrassment.

You spluttered, apologies and jumbled words spilling out of your lips. Yet, Sunoo wasn't listening.

Your words fell upon deaf ears. 

Sunoo was too busy staring at your lips.

And if you weren't too busy apologizing, you would notice the way Sunoo's teeth dug into his bottom lip, his fists clenching as his nails prodded into his palms. You would notice the way Sunoo stared at you with glazed over eyes, how his pupils were blown out.

You would notice Sunoo's own self-control slipping out of his grasp.

After all the torment that he's been through— all your light touches, appearances in his dreams, and goddamn pretty smiles— Sunoo could feel his resolve being torn from his hands. He did his best; he dug his claws into what determination and control he had, but alas, it wasn't enough.

And as fast as you could blink, Sunoo grabbed your wrist and pulled you in against his chest.

Holding you by the waist, Sunoo gripped your chin. 

"Can I kiss you?" His voice was desperate. "Please, can I kiss you?"

"Yes," you whispered, your hands sliding up his chest to hold his broad shoulders. "Yes, please kiss me."

As the last syllable left your lips, Sunoo wasted no time crashing his lips against yours. 

Unlike his usual quiet and calm self, his lips were the complete opposite. They were rough and hungry, eating you like a starved man. You whined against his lips, gripping Sunoo's hair with weak fingers. 

It was a messy kiss. An inexperienced, messy kiss that any of your friends would jeer about. No rhythm, no ebb or flow, just feeling.

But to you, this was what you needed. 

You could taste the desperation on Sunoo's tongue; the taste of someone pushed to the edge and now finally tipping over. It sent electric waves of warmth down your skin, your stomach doing flips as his hands roamed.

Then, Sunoo gently pushed you onto the bed, his lips swollen as he peered down at you.

"Are you okay?" he asked quickly, making sure that he didn't push too hard.

You only smiled. "Mhm."

Sunoo got on top of you, being careful to not crush you under him.

It looked just like his dream.

The smell of espresso coffee in the air, the two of you in bed, and did you think he wouldn't notice the white lace top that you chose to wear? Just for him.

Sunoo leaned on his elbows for support as he was on top of you, leaning in to kiss you.

Except, before his lips could meet yours, you giggled, placing your hands on his shoulders to stop him.

Sunoo looked at you concerned, like a deer in headlights. Had he done something wrong?

But you only smiled. 

Gently, you put your hands on his glasses, straightening them out. They had gotten crooked earlier when the two of you first kissed. 

"Can I take these off, sweetie?" you asked.

Shivers ran down his spine at the nickname. Sunoo hummed, too eager to kiss you to even care if he'd be half-blind without them. You took his glasses off, putting it on your bedside table.

Sunoo took your face in his hands, his fox-like eyes staring into your eyes. 

"You look so beautiful," he breathed. Sunoo's head dived for your neck. His breath tickled your skin, making you let out a whimper. "So, so, so beautiful."

With that, Sunoo began pressing open-mouthed kisses on your neck. With each kiss you let out a moan, your arms tightly wrapped around his neck and pulling at his hair. Your legs wrapped around him, your head falling back into the pillows to give Sunoo better access.

"Su— Sunoo— ahh," you struggled out, especially when Sunoo sucked on your skin. Although he was only kissing your neck, your entire body felt like jelly, including your brain. "Sunoo— I-I'm sensi— sensitive there."

"Sensitive where?" Sunoo asked simply, ignoring the way that you squirmed under him.

When you could only moan in response, you could feel Sunoo grin against you.

His lips nipped at your collarbone. "Sensitive here?"

"A-Ah—" you moaned, your arm jerking out to grip the bed sheets below you.

Sunoo kissed a wet line to your jugular, right at the center of your neck. "What about here?"

When all you could do was whimper, he grinned again. His lips traveled to the very side of your neck, just under your ear.

"What about here?" he asked again.

But instead of a moan or whimper, you laughed. You threw your head back again, pulling Sunoo's head into your chest in an embrace as soft giggles left your lips.

"I'm ticklish there," you giggled out. You bring a hand up to brush up against that spot on your neck. You grinned softly. "Sorry, I'm ticklish there I guess."

Sunoo nodded into your shoulder. He took in your scent, the feeling of you pressed up against him. He didn't mind that your little session was interrupted by something light-hearted. After all, he got to learn something about you, no matter how small.

And just as Sunoo was listening to your heartbeat, you pulled him back. 

"Turn over," you instructed. He did just that. You were now on top of him. "My turn."

Just like in his dream. 

He was in for a long night.

"Sunoo!" you shouted, your legs moving faster than you could think. The moment that you spotted his familiar back, you pounced on him, throwing your arms around him. "Sunoo, guess what?!"

Sunoo looked over his shoulder, swallowing back any embarrassment and shyness as you hugged him. Everyone in the hallway was staring at you by now, but it seemed like you didn't care. And if you didn't care, then he didn't care either. "What?"

You turned the boy over. It was now that he noticed the papers in your hands. You shoved it in his face, big red numbers at the forefront.

"One hundred percent!" you exclaimed. It was your history exam. "I got one hundred percent!"

The two of you celebrated (i.e. you hugged Sunoo) in the hallway, completely ignoring anyone that was staring. After all, it was Wednesday afternoon and the dining period was ending soon.

"Good job," Sunoo smiled. He was happy. "You did great."

"I couldn't have done it without you!" Your smile was so bright that it could light up the entire academy. You threw your arms around him again, this time pushing your face into his neck. You squeezed him. "Oh, thank you, thank you!"

You pulled back, looking at him with big, glimmering eyes. You took his hands in yours, squeezing them excitedly.

Feeling bold, Sunoo pushed up his glasses before leaning down to whisper in your ear. "Your neck," he rasped, "I can see the hickeys."

Your eyes widened into saucers at that, immediately fixing your shirt's collar. Your face was painted with shyness, squeezing your eyes shut. Your panic was so evident that anyone could probably tell. So cute.

"Just kidding," Sunoo chuckled, before he turned on his heel and began walking away from you, ignoring your cute shouting as you followed after him.

Yeah, he'd regret that later. After all, you had him on a leash, and there was no way in hell that he could escape you. 

He wasn't going to sleep tonight, one way or another. Not if it's you.

[miyamizuna]

Is it that sweet? I guess so~

Haikyuu boys as lyrics from "Espresso" by Sabrina Carpenter part 1 | part 2 ft. miya atsumu, kuroo tetsuro, semi eita

I can’t relate, to desperation (miya atsumu)

Being the MSBY social media manager means work- especially when it comes to Miya Atsumu. It seems like every other week he gets himself. caught up in controversy. Whether it be him being too touchy with an already-married older actress, or even being spotted on dates with multiple female idols. It’s your job to defend his already poor internet reputation. 

“Y/n~ c’mon now, one date is all I'm askin’! Throw me a bone here!” He pleads for the 5th time today. He was sure to be persistent after the many rejections before.

“Miya, how many times do I have to tell you no?” You sigh as you reject him once more to add onto the tally of 56 rejections over the course of a year. 

Sure he was attractive, what normal person would say no to a 6’1” professional volleyball player? Sadly you know firsthand about his player activities. You understand it though, a young early twenties male is bound to act like this. though the severity of actions vary on a case-to-case basis; he happens to be on the far end of the spectrum. 

“Besides, it’s unprofessional to have a relationship between the two of us. I’m your manager.” You explain to him hoping finally you’d be able to get the message through his thick skull.

“Professional or not, who cares! give me a chance to prove myself! C’mon I've been good recently, no contreveries!” He explains trying to persuade your thoughts.

“If you call being spotted with a married woman in a fancy restaurant ‘good behaviour’, I don’t know what to tell you.” You frown as you avert your eyes from him, back to your laptop, typing out a public apology for Atsumu’s recent events.

With a frown, he steps forward and closes your laptop whilst leaning over your desk. His figure obviously towering over your sitting self. 

“Enough of that, It wouldn’t be the same as those famous women who only want me to have an affair. It’s different with you.” He explains with sincerity as if this time he actually means what he says.

You look up at him with a smirk and now with crossing arms, leaning back on your office chair. “Oh really? Maybe when you give me an easier time with your little affairs, I’ll consider it.”

That's when his face lights up and puts on a stupid grin and leans in closer to your ear. i’m

 “Oh you bet.” He whispers seductively in your ear before pulling away and walking to the door of the office. 

“Well, see ya around Y/n, ya better hold up yer end of this.” He tells you before walking out of your office.

God this man. He's so… desperate for attention!

and I got this one boy, he won’t stop calling (kuroo tetsuro)

42 missed calls. Are you fucking kidding me? You had met this hot guy today at the cafe you work at, he was a tall man in a business suit, kind of built as you could see some of his triceps through the dress shirt, a really classy guy overall, though odd his hair didn’t match the aesthetic. You left your number on his cup just for the slight off chance he wasn’t in a relationship. Clearly, he’s not in one.

You decided to call him back, afterall you were busy with the cafe with the 8 hour shift you had just worked. Now lying on your stomach first, your leg hanging off the bed, you hit the call button.

“Hello?” a male voice says after only one ring. 

“Uhm, Hi. You left 42 calls on my phone.” You informed him as if he wasn’t already aware of what he did.

“Oh yeah, I did do that~” He teases through the phone. “So what’s your name, coffee girl?” 

“It’s L/N Y/N, and you?” You ask with a semi-interested tone returning the energy of his voice.

“I’m Kuroo Tetsuro. Y/n is a pretty name ya know” He flirts through the phone. 

You can just imagine his silly smirk, the same exact one as when he saw the cafe when he read your number, and then the “call me <3” written under it. 

“So I take it you’re not taken as you’re calling me” You suggest as you twirl your hair and kick your legs, god you feel like a teenage girl.

“Nah, I’m not taken. Haven’t really had a girlfriend before, closest was talking stages.” he explains you hear the ruffling of papers in the background. 

So that explains the 42 calls. Takes a man's guts to admit that.

“You don’t exactly know what you’re doing, don’t you~” You tease as you hear a sigh from the end of the phone.

“Well no- I do know what I’m doing! Just I wanted to get to know you- soon!” He fumbles words trying to explain himself which brings a laugh out of you.

“Suuuure…” 

There’s now a long awkward pause in the conversation. In which both of you don’t exactly know what to ask each other next.  

“Soo- Are you a full-time worker at that cafe?” He suddenly asks, speaking up to fill the silence.

“Well no, I’m still in college. I’m going there for an English degree. How about you? You seem like you got a pretty good job.” You explain, then follow up with a question about himself. 

“Well darling, I’m a sports promoter, specifically for volleyball. I work for the Japanese Volleyball Association.” He informs you with a proud tone. 

This does pique your interest, not every day do you meet a guy who works for a sporting association who happens to walk inside a hole-in-the-wall café.

“Well shit, that's cool! Did you play in high school or something?” You ask now, flipping over onto your back to a more comfortable position.

“I did- made it to nationals during my last year.” He answers with a cocky tone. There is more shuffling of papers in the background, maybe he’s still at work-

“Kuroo! We need the papers finalised by tonight!” A voice from the background of his end says with a very demanding tone. Causing him to groan into the phone.

“Well you certainly heard my boss…” He sighs. “Call you back cutie. We still need to finalise our date.” He tells you before hanging up the phone not even leaving time for you to respond to his statement.

“huh…? DATE?” You shout to the void that is your room. 

Man, this guy is confident. Both him personally, and you being too willing to give this man a chance. You know one thing though. You’re definitely going to come back to 42 calls again.

I'm working late bc I’m a singer (semi eita)

Oh, Semi Eita, the lead singer and guitarist of his little band. The foundation of what his band is about all stems from him. His rock style is unique, flashy if you call it. He always felt the need to stand out from others. You know that best as his significant other. Since high school, he’s always been a show-off or tried to be. Because of his show-off nature, he was benched on the volleyball team in his 3rd year. 

Now here he is, slumped over on his office desk at one in the damn morning, struggling to come up with meaning to his new song. 

“You know, Eita, This song must really got you stumped. You haven’t stayed up writing this late in forever.” You smirk leaning on the doorframe to his office. You both know that you’re right.

Eita usually has a set schedule; sleeps at 11 pm, unlike his teen days when he’ll pull all-nighters for fun. He sighs and turns his office chair around. 

“Well, I guess you can say that.” He replies as he tiredly smiles at you. 

You walk over to his desk, the wood planks creek in the silence of night, and lean over his shoulder to look at the song. 

“So what’s this song about?” You ask him while reading the lyrics. 

“A boy who fell in love with a girl and sees her with rose-tinted glasses.” He explains as he taps the pen on the paper every few seconds, clearly in thought.

“Well is she a good person, or a bad person.” You ask, sitting yourself at the corner of his desk. 

He sits at his desk long in thought. “That’s the thing. I don’t really know.” He admits and he runs a hand through his hair, the other hand twirling the pen around.

“Well when you think of this girl, who do you think of?” You ask him whilst  playing with the drawer of his desk that sits above you. 

as he sits there in thought, an idea suddenly pops into his head. There is one girl in particular that comes into his head.

“I think of you.” He lets out with a grin as he ruffles your hair, causing you to let put a laugh

“Me, huh? You really love me that much huh..?” You grin in response to his actions, with a proud tone of voice.

“I guess I do huh?” He smiles at your proud self. “I’ll write about you being the girl who I view in rose-tinted glasses,” He says as she writes down his ideas on the paper, making light scribble noises.

That's just when you get up and try dragging him away from the desk. 

“You know its bed time right?” You tease and you put him in a headlock and ruffle his hair.

“I’ll be there soon! Just, let me finish noting these ideas down!” He protests and he doesn’t look away from the page despite what you’re doing to him.

You sigh in response and let go of him. Walking to the door in the process. 

“Don’t stay up too late. We both know how grumpy you get without your beauty sleep.” You tell him in response to his protests. Finding a good opportunity to tease him in the process.

As you walk out of the room, all you can hear is a grumble in response. All for the fact he knows you’re right.

©miyamizuna 2024 do not repost

espresso is my spotify number 1 rn

[kestisvrse]

headcanon collection: meeting & dating hockey player!frat!luke castellan

♫ - espresso by sabrina carpenter

· definitely had a meet-cute type situation

· at a frat party that silena had ditched you at, he wasn’t watching as he walked and your drink went flying all over yourself.

· he apologized profusely which you furrowed your brows at, expecting a frat boy to be an asshole.

“holy shit! i am so sorry, oh my god that is such a nice shirt too.”

· led you to his room as he turned around and you threw on one of his shirts

· you hung out in different groups so you never really saw him, to return his shirt

· one day though, out of pure luck he decided to try studying at the library, running into you as you were about to leave.

· which led to him admiring your room as you dug around in your clean clothes basket for his shirt.

“you cleaned it?” “well… yeah i just threw it in i didn’t… really think about it… sorry.” you mumble, “it’s okay.” he says, smiling.

· ever since then, you noticed him studying in public more often.

· airpods in as he hunches over a table, gaze flickering between his laptop and his paper, squinting every so often.

“what’s with the sudden public appearances?” “oh! i- uh, wanted to try something new?”

· it led to you both seeking each other out at the library, all you knew about each other were your names and the classes you studied for, you had no contact or attachments but you always sat together

· eventually he finally asked for your number and you started seeing each other outside of the library and actually getting to know each other

“hey do you maybe want to come to my game on friday?” a text from him reads out, to which you quickly reply “of course :)”

· it became regular, if one of you needed to study you both found yourselves at the library, and if he had a game you were sat front row wearing his colours

· your friends noticed your feelings before you did, you were always bringing up a story about him, or asking someone to accompany you to his game

· it was sickening

“i’m out with luke right now, i’m so sorry.” “that’s okay!”

· luke wasn’t much better

· except his friends didn’t know who you were

· at first they thought he was hooking up with someone, to which he quickly shut down (he didn’t want you to think that’s what he was telling people, because he wasn’t)

· but hearing them say this made it click in his head that even if you were hooking up, he’d want more with you.

“can i come over?” “always, why?” “i really need to talk to you.”

“he’s going to tell you he likes you!” silena predicted, jumping around your dorm, “no he won’t!”

· he did

· he was a mess at your doorstep, he wasn’t used to relationships, usually sticking to situationships but with you, he felt something entirely different

· he was breathing heavily as he spoke, taking his sweet time to say “i like you” and instead just blabbering out compliments and how he doesn’t want to ruin things.

· but when he stops for a breath to watch your confusion, he shuts up and spits it out.

“i really like you, i want to be able to bring you flowers, and kiss you when you get a good grade on something you thought you’d fail, i want to fall asleep with you in my arms watching movies.”

· silena who hid in the bathroom squealed, causing luke’s cheeks to turn pink.

“ignore her! i, um, i really like you too.”

· and his confession was right

· as soon as he finally asked you out for real (after he took you out to dinner.) he was all over you

· hands had to be brushing each other if he couldn’t hold it, or didn’t have his arm around your waist

· he sported a grin of awe when he watched you get excited over things

· picking you up and spinning you around when you said you aced a test

· you still studied together all the time, sometimes if its in your dorm you get a bit sidetracked (ykwim.)

· he couldn’t help but take every chance to kiss you, your lips slotted together so perfectly he cursed all the time he spent hanging out with you and admiring your lips instead of actually acting on his thoughts

“is that my cherry chapstick?” you ask after pecking his lips, “ummmm no?” he scoffs (it is)

· you still went to every game, wearing his jersey now instead of just the teams colours

· kissing him passionately everytime he ran off the ice, didn’t matter if he won or not, he was an incredible player and that’s basically what your kisses said to him, how proud you were.

“I LOVE YOU!”

it was your four months as you watched him run around his room frantically.

“oh my god i swear it’s here somewhere!”

“luke it’s fine, just come lie down with me again.” you ask in a soothing tone, it was like your voice had a spell in it that made it work, forgetting his worries and his legs dragging himself to the bed.

“aha!” he suddenly yelled, causing you to jump. he ran to one of his shelves and pulled out a small box hiding behind his books, “see! i told you i had a gift.”

“you’re ridiculous.” you giggled, sitting up as he handed you the box, urging you to open it.

the cover snapped off as your jaw dropped in awe. a necklace with the initial “L” laid in the box, “oh it’s beautiful luke.”

“hey and look.” you look up at his eyes, looking down at his neck as he pulls something out from under his sweater. a matching necklace with your initial.

“oh my god you’re so cute.” you giggled, taking the necklace out of the box, “put it on for me?”

you quickly shimmed so your back faced his chest, holding your hair out the way as he snapped it around your neck, he admired you in the mirror, his hands coming to rest on your waist and the back of you head rested on his shoulder.

he said your name softly to which you hummed in response, making eye contact with him through the mirror, fiddling with the new necklace.

“i love you.” your eyebrows raised in a soft shocked expression at the unfamiliar words, turning to look back at him.

“i love you too.”

[ramp-it-up]

Try a Little Tenderness

Paring: Mob Boss! Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 3.7 K

Summary: Steve can’t win you with presents. He’s got to try a little tenderness.

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, Lil bit of ANGST. Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Pining, flirting, organized crime, implied ice skating, teasing, former jerky boyfiend, inexperienced reader, nipple play, oral (both receiving) p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) breeding kink, size kink, crying during sex, violence (due to mob world).

A/N: This is for #DJ’sAllIWant4KChristmas and based on this ask.

I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

“Good morning, Steve!”

You were stocking onions, but you looked up and smiled as the tall blond entered the store, setting off the bell. He was well built and handsome and wearing a fine wool coat with a red scarf. It was a cool December, but New York had not yet had its first big snowfall.

“Mornin’, Ambrosia,” came his gruff response. 

You kind of liked his early morning voice. And the nickname. The first time he came in, he’d picked up an apple, already biting into it but also already paying. He handed you a twenty and said, “Mmmmm, Name?”, pointing to you with the apple. Flustered, you replied with the name of the apple instead of your name and the rest was history. 

This morning, Steve smiled at you and his blue eyes were sparkling. They always sparkled when he looked at you. He seemed very sweet.

“The usual.”

You laughed and went behind the counter to wash your hands.

“Of course, already had the fixin’s set up for you.”

You started the water for the espresso and got out the fresh everything bagels you’d put aside for him. Steve was one of your best customers, coming in every morning, and several evenings. He’d been coming in for about four months now.

Steve settled at the counter and watched you prepare his food. He looked at his watch: 7:42 am. He knew you'd been at work almost two hours now and that you were working very hard. One of your braids had come undone from your bun, and he wanted to put it back, but he didn’t touch you. You wore no makeup, yet your skin always glowed, and when you looked up at him, his heart nearly stopped. 

You were naturally beautiful. And your apron did not hide your curves. Or the fact that you were wearing the same pants that you’d worn three days ago. Steve figured that you didn’t have many clothes. He had the urge to take you shopping on Madison Avenue and let you go crazy. But somehow he knew you would never blow a load of cash on clothing. And that’s part of why he was so far gone on you.

He watched you battle your espresso machine with bemusement.

“Why haven’t you set up your new machine yet?”

You stopped and put your hands on your hips, looking so cute that Steve restrained himself from jumping over the counter.

“Is that from you?” You shook your head. “I suspected it.” 

Steve had unexpectedly given you many gifts, the espresso machine, a cash register. He’d even tried to have a new walk in cooler installed. You refused and sent back everything he’d sent. It wasn’t right. He barely knew you. 

You wondered what he did for a living, always dressed in the finest and able to afford multiple thousand dollar gifts. You figured that he was one of those Angel investors. Well, he wasn’t very good at being anonymous.

You watched as Steve gave you a lopsided grin, then leaned over the counter toward him. 

“Listen. Steve. Mr. Rogers.” 

You looked from his eyes, to his perfect lips, to his golden St. Christopher’s medal. He smelled so damn good. You bit your lip and Steve smiled, warmed by your proximity. This was his chance.

“Yeah, Ambrosia?”

“I’m not taking your gifts.”

You straightened up abruptly, handed him his drinks and finished his order. You gave him two folded newspapers.

“One Daily News for your friend and one News Day for you.” 

“Have you thought about it yet?”

You raised your eyebrow at him.

“About what?”

You thought he was finally going to ask you on a date. You knew the main reason he came in was to check you out. But you weren’t about to be bought.

“About the possibility of getting The Times in here? Alright, the Sunday Times at least.”

“Sorry Steve, it doesn’t sell. If it doesn’t sell, I don’t order. Can’t afford a non starter. But I do subscribe to the Sunday Times myself for the crossword. You can borrow mine any time.”

You winked at him. Something about Steve brought out your inner flirt.

Steve wanted to say something about sharing the Sunday Times in bed, but he thought better of it. Any other girl, and he would have been able to spit all kinds of game. But with you, he was tongue tied.

Steve sipped his coffee and shook his head as you gave him his bag.

“You are the most stubborn person I have ever met.”

You waved at him as he stood up.

“Have a great day!”

Steve chuckled at your dismissal as he walked out of the door. Bucky was waiting by the car. Steve handed him his cup and sandwich. 

“Send Sam to pick up the espresso machine.”

“Still a tough nut, eh?”

“Yeah. She’s still refusing gifts…”

Steve got in the passenger seat while Bucky sat behind the wheel.

“Instead of giving her all of this expensive shit, why don’t you just be nice to her?Ask her out ice skating or something.”

Steve scoffed. He didn’t know how to ask a girl out anymore. He felt like that scrawny kid running around with Bucky back in the day. Now, women were always clawing at each other to get to him. And they always wanted something. 

Steve didn’t respond to Bucky, just asked about his calendar.

“What’s on the agenda for today, Buck?”

“We gotta meet with the truckers today. They don’t want to bend to our terms.” Steve put on his sunglasses. 

“We know what to do to make ‘em bend, don't we Buck?”

“Sure do, buddy.” 

You were in your walk up apartment above the store halfway listening to the 10 o’clock news. They were doing a story about an explosion at the Eatern Tri-State Trucking hub in Bay Ridge as you put your body oil on after your shower. The reporter indicated that authorities thought that the Valkyrie crime organization was behind it. You were zoning out looking forward to the next day.

You were glad that Janie and Nate would be back at work tomorrow. Nate had just taken a week off, and Janie had recovered from the flu.  You were going to take the next afternoon off. You could have taken the entire day, but you wanted to open up for some reason.

Running an organic bodega in Brooklyn was a tough job, but the business was growing, but it was even tougher when your help was not there. You deserved a bit of a break.

The next morning, you were humming an Otis Redding song when Steve came in. You looked over your shoulder and caught him looking at your ass.

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers.”

“Mornin’ Ambrosia.”

“The usual?”

Steve wanted to say no, I want to ask you to marry me, but that might be a little too forward.

“Yeah.”

He sat down at the counter and noticed that you had on something brand new. When you turned around, he gestured to your outfit.

“What’s the occasion?”

You looked down and then grinned. 

“This outfit is my Christmas present to myself. I’m taking the afternoon off and I’m going into the city to go to the Central Public Library.”

Steve tried to respect your glee. But he had to do it.

“How thrilling.”

“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch, “ you quipped.

Steve laughed at you. He thought about what Bucky said the day before.

“Grinch hunh. Well, would a Grinch offer to take you ice skating instead?”

You turned around and leaned on the counter. Steve leaned toward you.

“I don’t know. Are you offering, Mr. Grinch?”

You loved teasing him. Steve groaned.

“C’mon. I’m trying here. Ambrosia. Do you want to go ice skating with me in the city this afternoon? And to dinner afterward.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

Steve was very close to you now, staring at your lips.

“Yes.”

You stood up and put your hands on your hips.

“It’s about time. Sure!”

Steve laughed at how easy it was. You shoved his order into his hands.

“Pick me up at 1.”

Steve was grinning like an idiot out at the car, and didn't know how he got there.

“So you finally asked her out, hunh?”

Steve snapped out of it as he got in the passenger seat.

“Move the talks up to 10. I’m taking the afternoon off.”

“Rumlow is stalling. I can handle it this evening.”

“You sure?”

Bucky looked at his best friend.

“Sure as shootin’.”

You and Steve had a great afternoon, and Steve thought that ice skating was genius. He had to thank Bucky. You had to hold hands to stay steady, and when he pulled you in close, you didn’t pull back so you could stay warm. He didn’t know that you were thinking the same things.

Steve got to treat you to Via Carota and you two walked right in. The food was great, the wine was amazing, and you even stole a kiss in your corner booth. The night was perfect.

He drove you back to your place and you sat in the car for a minute. He’d been a perfect gentleman, and you were the one to make the first move with the kiss. You looked at him quizzicaly.

“Can I ask you something, Steve?”

“Yes, Ambrosia, anything.”

“After today, this afternoon and tonight. Do you still like me?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course. Why do you ask?”

You looked down. 

“Well, you’ve been such a gentleman. I see how you look at me, all hungry all the time. And the gifts. I don’t know. I just thought you’d be. You know. More…”

“Aggressive?” Steve responded.

“Well. yeah. I just thought.”

You looked back up and saw that Steve’s eyes had darkened.

“I am not a gentle man in my everyday life, Ambrosia. And I know that I can come on strong. But you make me want to be tender with you. I want to cherish you.”

“Oh.”

And Steve pulled you in for a sweet, but sexy kiss.

“So, yes, I still like you. And I have very aggressive thoughts about you. Want to ruin you in fact. But I want to do it carefully. Make you feel it. And make you glad you did.”

“Oh. No one has ever…damn, Steve.”

He recognized that you had been hurt.

“Here’s an aggressive question. What kind of an asshole would make you feel that way about yourself? His name is all I need.”

You laughed.

“Do you want to come up for the answer?” You cocked your head at him as he chuckled and nodded.

“Yes.”

When you got up to your place, you were settled with a glass of wine on your couch.

“I’m not going to give you his name, but I will tell you that we were together for a few months, and we only did it a few times. He’s the only one I’ve ever been with.”

The way you looked as him made Steve’s heart soft, but other things hard.

“It…It didn’t feel good. He said I was frigid and too small. I… I went to the doctor and everything. She said I was fine physically. So I figured it must have been in my mind and I haven’t been able to get out of my head after that. He broke it off and then I just decided to focus on work.”

You peered at Steve to see his reaction.

Steve’s eyes flashed with anger, then cooled.

“That joker is a fucking idiot.” 

His eyes traced your body.

“He didn’t know what to do with all this?”

Steve reached for you and kissed you, this time with undeniable passion. You broke away and stood up, offering him your hand.

“Show me, Steve.”

He stood up and followed you to your bedroom.

You stood at the foot of the bed and reached up to kiss Steve, and he picked you up and sat down, sitting you down with both of your legs over his. You made out like this, Steve’s hands still in neutral places until you whined and scooted closer to him.

Then, he went under your sweater, finding your nipple in your bra and brushing it with his thumb. He was exhibiting intense will power, but he couldn’t hold it all back as you responded to his passionate kisses.

Steve lifted your sweater off and your tank top, which was underneath, with it. Your bra contained your breasts, but your nipples were erect and straining against the material. He brought your body towards his for a kiss, his thick fingers pressing and playing with your sensitive buttons. He had you squirming on his lap as he reached around and expertly unfastened your bra.

He looked down at you and then back up, eyes hungry. You’d been yearning for that look.

“I’m gonna cherish this moment, get you ready for me, Baby. You’re gonna feel so good.”

He was weighing and kneading your breast and tenderly flicking your nipple, then he leaned down and kissed you, moving down your neck and collarbone, descending your chest and kissing all around your areolas, teasing your stiff nipples.

He had you moaning and writhing, wanting some friction for your cunt.

“Patience, Baby. You’re gonna get everything you deserve. Including this.”

Steve moved your hand to the hard member in his pants, which you tried to grip in vain through his slacks. You whimpered in frustration.

“I know. I know. I want to do so many things with you.” 

Steve’s fingers were in your leggings, through our panties and tracing your wet pussy lips gently as he finally started sucking your nipples. You pulled his hair wantonly as he teased you.

“Mmmmm. Who’s got you all wet, Ambrosia?” he asked, as he pulled his fingers out and put them in his mouth.

“Y-you, Steve… unhhhhh.”

The sight of him relishing your taste made you even wetter. And he found out, because his hand was right back down your pants. 

His lips were at your ear and he was breathing hard.

“Can I…”

His thick finger parted your lips and the rough pads of two fingers slid over your clit into your wetness. You arched your back in anticipation.

“...Can I eat you out, my sweet Ambrosia?”

His voice and the request sent you on a tailspin. You nodded vigorously as Steve pulled his hand out to your whine of desperation at the loss of contact.

You quickly stood up as Steve captured your hips to stand still in front of him. His eyes raked up and down your form as he took hold of the waistband of your pants, and slowly pulled them and your panties down your legs. You stepped out of them and Steve’s hands ran back up your form as you looked down at him. He grabbed the backs of your thighs as he pulled you near him.

Steve put one knee over his shoulder and stared at your most intimate part. 

“She’s a sweet little flower. So pretty and tight.”

His fingers were parting your folds so he could see even more.

“But she will be ready for my thick cock, I know she will, Ambrosia.”

He pulled you forward and held you up as he licked through you, almost causing a near stroke as far as you could tell. 

“Mmmmmm,” Steve’s eyes rolled back into his head.  “You are so sweet. I could eat you all night.”

You almost cried as he dove back in, grabbing his hair for purchase. He grabbed your bottom and stood to place you on the bed. He kneeled on the floor and held you down and open with his huge hands.

Steve started his feast, gently licking at first, then made you build to a crescendo as he started tongue fucking you. He made sure to stimulate your nipples, and when he felt your hard little nub vibrate, he sucked your clit hard as you came.

“Was that good?”

“Oh my stars, that was good.”

You both laughed.

“You’re so fucking cute, Ambrosia, but there’s levels to this.”

You sat up and watched as  he took off his shirt. You were sure that your eyes were sparkling now.

“It’s just going to get better and better.”

He was just clad in his black boxer briefs, a huge bulge leading the charge. He reached in and you were certain that he was going to pull out an entire pack of socks, but instead, he showed you the largest, thickest dick you’d ever seen. Your eyes were like saucers. You were a little afraid, but your legs fell open out of reflex. 

“See what you do to me?”

You bit your lip and nodded, reaching out and touching it tentatively.

“I’ve never seen one that big.”

You looked up at him and his heart melted simultaneously as his cock jumped. Your trembling fingers around him made him almost bathe your hand in his spend.

“Oh, Baby.. So sweet.”

“You are too, Steve. I want to taste you.”

You looked up at him through your lashes and Steve groaned, trembling with the effort to hold back.

“Christ… I’m…I…. Whatever you want, Baby.”

You stared at his cock for what seemed like forever. Then, you tentatively reached out and kitten licked his tip, causing him to groan as he palmed the back of your head.

“You’re killing me here, Ambrosia.”

“Hmmm.” You smiled. “Lay down for me, Steve.”

He did as he was told and put his arm behind his head to watch you. The way his muscles bulged inspired you anew. He reached down and roamed his fingers over your body as you hovered over him. You stroked him a couple of times and then played with his balls, Steve putty in your hands.

“B-babyyyy.”

You smiled in triumph that you had him whining as you spread your lips over the thick mushroom cap and sucked it into your mouth vigorously, causing him to moan and buck his hips up. You took the cue and drew him into your mouth, making him hit the back of your throat and gag.

“Holyyyyyy sssssshit. Stop. StopStopStopStop.”

Steve pulled you off his dick, which made you release him with a plop. He sat up and stared at you, disbelief in his eyes. 

“Did I do it wrong?”

“Did you do it wrong. Fuck, you almost made me…. C’mere.”

You giggled as you ended up with your back on the bed again, Steve eating you out, this time one finger inside you as you came. You were in shambles as he looked up at you and inserted another finger inside as his opposite thumb stroked your still-quivering clit.

“Gotta get you up to three. Hold on.”

You did, and when he crooked his fingers this time, you let out a wail that caused dogs to bark down the street.

After your fourth orgasm, Steve looked up, smiling ear to ear.

“Still want this dick?”

You scowled at him.

“If you don’t…”

He laughed as he kneeled between your legs, stroking the magnificent beast. You opened your legs even wider and stared down at it.

“No. look at me, look at me. You’re ready. I got you Baby.”

Steve supported himself with one arm as he got nearer to you and started swiping his head between your folds. You keened as he entered you.

“Ow. Steveeeee.”

Your face looked so adorable as you struggled to take him.

“Holy shit, you’re, fuck you’re so….”

Steve kissed you through your moan of shock and pleasure as he slid all the way home. You gripped his bicep, your fingernails leaving marks. Steve pecked your lips as you pounded together, waiting for you to get used to him.

“You ok? You good?”

Steve checked to make sure you were okay. You nodded at him with tears in your eyes.

“I- I- think it feels good. You’re so big, Steveee. But.. but I like it….”

You started moving, a little at first, and then more wantonly. Steve looked down to where you were impaled upon his dick.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You are perfect. Just so.. Fucking… tiny…. But made for me…Shit.”

You felt Steve’s cock jumping inside you when he said those words, and you clasped your hands behind his back and uttered, “More!”

And that’s when you began to get fucked. Tenderly yet filthily. It was the best Steve had ever had, trying to be gentle and knowing that he wanted to put the bed under the ground. It was such a turn on. The ragged moans that you gave him with each stroke was a gift from god, and he started cumming before he could think.

“Shit! I didn’t use a condom…Fuck. But why does that just motivate me to keep going?” 

Steve laughed into your ear as he kept stroking for dear life. He was usually so careful, knowing that most women wanted his kid. But with you he didn’t care. You wrapped your legs around him, taking the pounding he was giving you now.

“Hmmmmmm. You want me to put a baby inside you? Pump you so full of cum that you get all round and full with my seed?”

“Hnnnnghhh. Steve… I…”

“Tell me. Do you want it? You want me to get you pregnant?”

“Ohhhh shitttttttt! Steeeveeeeee!”

You detonated around him and Steve cursed, finally pulling out and jacking hard onto your stomach as three fingers on the other hand continued to fuck you through your orgasm. His pearly spend looked beautiful on your skin.

“So gorgeous. There’s time for that yet, but we gotta get you to a doctor, because I don’t want to do this too many more times. And fucking you with condoms is no longer an option.”

You were fucked out, absentmindedly playing in his cum, causing him to spurt one last rope onto your fingers. When you brought them to your mouth was when he shivered. He collapsed beside you.

“I can’t even explain how good that was.”

You just smiled at him, lips shiny with gloss that he made.

“You are an angel. A Christmas angel.”

Steve sighed as you smiled at him. He got up and went to your bathroom to clean up and get a warm towel.

“I’m hungry.”

“Anything you want, Babe. I’ll get it for you.”

You grabbed the remote and  turned on the tv, catching the tail end of the news.

“Shootout in DUMBO tonight between the Rumlow and Valkyrie crime organizations. Several high-ranking officers dead or injured, including Brock Rumlow and James Bucky Barnes. More news when we have it.”

“Steve? Bucky? What’s going on? Valkyrie?”

Steve was up and grabbing for his clothes, an inscrutable look on his face.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this, but I gotta go.” 

He gave you a quick kiss. 

“Don’t leave. Sam will come back with some food for you and he will stay with you. Don’t open the store tomorrow.”

“But Steve!”

“No buts! I will call.”

And then Steve disappeared into the night, leaving you with so many questions.

Knock that reblog button off the block fa me. 😉

Read part two, All I Want.

[xhoneygirlxx]

In My Feels

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

summary: Steve’s heart now belongs to the pretty woman who always comes in with her two adorable kids. When he finally decides to make a move, he’s shocked to find out she’s not their mom.

warnings: fluff. Barista!Steve. Reader and Steve are both in their 20’s. Nanny!Reader. Modern!au. Readers ethnicity/skin tone is not mentioned. Pictures above are used for aesthetic purposes only. Shitty writing/grammar errors, not proofread.

*if I miss anything please let me know.

a/n: day two of my birthday bash has finally arrived!! I’m so grateful for the amount of love and support you guys have given me. Although this is my birthday week, I wanted to spend it with you guys and give us both something we can enjoy :) I love every single one of you guys and I hope you like this!

Now I’m in my feels 

Way up in the clouds somewhere now 

Don’t know what’s real 

Working at the Java Cup, Steve dealt with a lot of different people. Tired students, doctors and nurses coming and going from shifts, and everyone in between. During the six months of his employment there only one customer seemed to catch his attention, you. 

From the moment you walked in he knew he was fucked. With one kid on your hip and the other in the stroller, you already had him in the palm of your hand. No matter what, rain or shine, you and your two kids always came in with bright smiles. Although a lot of your interactions were small talk or your older son trying to, his heart infatuation for you every single time. 

You were so fucking beautiful and Steve was nothing but a fool for you. So many times he would go home and just pray that you weren’t taken, that maybe somewhere written in the stars there was a chance for him. 

Steve wanted to ask you out but every single time he chickened out, throwing out multiple cup sleeves that had horrible puns written on them in the process. Ever since getting broken up with by Nancy, his self esteem and confidence dropped. No matter how many times his best friend and coworker, Robin, tried to talk some sense into him, he just couldn’t do it. 

It was comical watching him stutter and blush scarlet every time you would speak, tripping over his words like it was his first time ever talking. Because he was so smitten with you, his insecurities grew and poking fun at him any time he would think about possibly asking you out.

Here you were, a pretty mom with two adorable kids that he adored, so sweet and kind to him, and so far out of his league. There was no pot at the end of this rainbow for Steve, but he continued to chase it in hopes that maybe, just maybe he was wrong.

Now it's been six months and Steve has run out of steam, his legs growing tired and his lungs burning with exhaustion with how long he's been running. So, he's decided that it's time to give up on his mission to of getting to the finish line.

There was no point to continue trying, not when you're probably more than happy with the father of your children, going home to your white picket fence and happy home. So he pulled back, watched from behind the counter, and continued to daydream about the life he's always wanted.

“You know you could just go talk to her, right?” Robin’s voice is louder than she thinks, the low music and hum of the espresso machine doing little to cover it up. 

“Say it louder, why don’t you.” Rolling his eyes, Steve continues to wipe down the counter that he’s been working on for the past ten minutes. 

“I’m just sayin’, it’s kind of pathetic and creepy that you’re always staring.” Shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, the brunette girl runs her hands down her black apron. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?” 

“What’s the worst-” Turning on his heel quickly, Steve stares at his best friend with wide eyes, “Robin, there is a laundry list of things that could go wrong.” 

“Yeah? Try me.” Crossing her ankle over the other, Robin leans on the sink with a waiting look.

“Firstly, she could be married,” Steve starts counting on his finger. 

“No ring on her finger.” Robin counters. 

“Well she’s a mom with two kids, I doubt she has time for a twenty something, no good, barista that barely has his life together.” 

“EEEEEEEE WRONG,” She makes a loud buzzer noise, “One you aren’t no good, you’re actually a really great person who needs to see just how amazing he is. Two, you may be a barista who can barely keep his life together but, you’re reliable and take care of yourself, not to mention you have your own car and place, more than other twenty somethings. And lastly, you’re also a mother to a group of teenagers, so it works perfectly.” 

Dropping his hands down to his sides, Steve lets the words settle into his heart. He was a good person, he did have a good impression with the gaggle of kids he sometimes watches, and he did have some of his life together.

“Okay well, she could reject me and I will not only lose more of my confidence but I’ll also lose my favorite customer.” Sighing in defeat, he whips the rag that still sits in his hand over his shoulder. "Either way, I gave up on that dream a long time ago."

Robin shakes her head, stepping forward to the boy she calls her best friend and shakes him by the shoulders. “You are Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington! There was a reason everyone called you king Steve and it wasn’t just because you were a huge dick.” 

“Hey!!” Steve raises his voice in defeat and she waves him off continuing her peptalk. 

“Listen, I know that lady killer is somewhere in there,” She pokes at his chest, “So you’re gonna put your big boy panties on, walk up to her and ask her out! I’m sick and tired of watching you look all sad and depressing, so you’re going to do as I say or I’ll do it for you.” Smiling brightly at him, the girl taps him lovingly on the shoulder.

Robin may be a lot of things, including annoying, but a liar is not one of them. Steve knows that she will one hundred percent walk up to you, throw him under the bus, with a mega-watt smile as she does it.

Watching his friend walk around the counter with a broom and dust pan in hand, her head turns to wear your sat at a table by the front window, talking to your older son, rocking your baby in the stroller with your foot. Turning her attention back to Steve, she smiles wickedly and turns slightly like she’s heading your way. Anxiety rises in the back of his throat, heartbeat picking up and banging hard in his chest.

“Fine, I’m going just- fuck off.” It comes out through gritted teeth. Running a shaking hand down the front of his apron, Steve rounds the counter muttering something under his breath.

As he walks to the table, Robin gives him two thumbs up and an exaggerated smile to which he replies by simply throwing a middle finger up at her.

As he steps closer to your table the thought of turning back around and hiding in the back room comes into mind.

There’s no pot of gold here, only gray clouds and roaring thunder. He can turn back now and continue his sorrowful journey of pining.

But then he looks at you, smiling and laughing at something the young boy next to you said, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back. What a beautiful way to die, Steve thinks. The thunder and lightning is all worth it when he gets to see you as he takes his final breaths.

“H-hey,” His voice is wobbly, nervousness clearly showing as he speaks.

“Hi Steve.” Your eyes meet his, saccharine smile tugging on the corners of your lips.

“Hi steeb!” The young boy next to you waves while clutching a red crayon in his tiny hand.

“Hi Aidan. How are you little man?” Steve seems to loosen up a bit, the presence of your son lets him exhale just slightly.

“M’colorin a pixture.” The small boy’s tongue pokes between his lips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he draws what looks like a demented stick figure.

“It looks good, little dude.” Steve encourages, cooing sweetly at him.

“Fanks.” Still focusing on his picture, the smaller boy grabs a different crayon from the box that sits on the table.

“What’s up, Steve?” You ask, still rocking the stroller back and forth with your tennis shoe covered foot.

“Oh-h yeah, um I was just gonna ask, ah what you were doing.” Just like a switch, he’s back to being a fumbling doofus.

You giggle at him and he feels his cheeks tingle with heat. Looking between the two kids, you look back up to the older man in front of you.

“Well, I’m enjoying a coffee while Aidan colors and Bella naps peacefully.” You nod your head slowly, eyeing the barista questioningly.

Steve wants to slap a hand on his forehead, embarrassed by the fact he can’t even formulate one sentence.

“Yeah, no I see that. Seems fun, I mean not fun but like ya know, seems-“ His stammering is cut off by your soft voice.

“Are you okay? You seem really nervous.” Your eyebrows are pinched together, worry painted on your features.

“Me? I’m great, fantastic!” It comes enthusiastic and way louder than he intended, so loud that Robin hears and instantly facepalms.

“Well, that’s great Steve.” You’re still eyeing him suspiciously and he really wants to jump ship.

“I’m just gonna go and do my ugh, my stuff.” Hooking a thumb over his shoulder, spinning on the ball of his feet leaving before he can say anything else embarrassing.

No, he can’t leave now, not when he’s made it this close to the finish line. This is what he’s been waiting for, the treasure he’s been searching for. It’s no or never and he can’t go back to praying the same prayer that somewhere in this universe you two were destined to be.

With a new found confidence, he turns right back into the eye of the storm and faces it head strong.

“Actually, I came over here because I wanted to know if maybe you’d like to go out sometime.” His chest is puffed out like, more sure of himself than he’s ever been.

The confidence that’s surging through him starts to falter when he reads your expression. You, and Aidan who has now stopped coloring, stare at him with bugged out eyes and gaping mouths.

“Only if that’s okay with you and all. If you want you can bring the kids along and we can go get ice cream and stuff but if you need it I have some friends who are great with kids and who will be willing to babysit for you.” He’s back peddling, trying to give you a way out in case you want to reject him it won’t hurt so bad.

“Oh Steve,” it’s said with pity and he knows the lighting strike is about to hit, “I-I’m not their mom.”

“Yeah no I get it, sorry if I- wait..” Stopping in his tracks, he looks back and forth between you and the small boy, connecting the dots in his head. “You’re not their mom?”

You and Aidan share a look before giggling together. Gazing back up at the flustered man in front of you, you smile kindly at him.

“No, I’m their nanny, Steve. Although I love them like they’re my own, they’re not.”

“Oh.” Steve continues to stare at you, his pretty pink lips in the shape of an O.

“Yeah, I just watch these little guys.” You shrug your shoulders.

“That’s still cool, I mean the offer still stands.” Even though he’s confused, his voice is a little shaky when he asks.

“Do the kids still have to come?” You ask and Aidan shouts an offended “hey”.

“I mean they can if you want, it’s all up to you.” He eyes you, waiting for your reaction but your expression doesn’t give him much to go on.

“Hmmm, I’m going to have to ask my trusted right hand man.” Holding a finger up at him, you leave over to the smaller boy next to you.

Aidan covers you hear with a small hand trying to cover the movements of his lips, even though Steve can still his his muffled whispers from where he stands.

Shaking your head, you repeat back uh huh’s to him, taking everything that’s being said seriously.

Moving back to your upright position, you stare at Steve with a serious gaze.

“Well, my counsel says I should go but you have to buy me ice cream. No buts about it.” Your straight face begins to falter when Steve’s white teeth shine at you.

“Yeah, I’ll get you whatever ice cream you want.” Steve bobs his head, cheeks flaring pink and eyes shining brightly.

“You can’t kiss, only mommies and daddies do dat stuff.” Aidan pipes in and Steve can’t help but chuckle with how the little boys face is scrunched up with intensity.

“Yes sir.” Steve gives the little boy a solute, while sending you a sneaky wink, and the kid quickly accepts.

“So, I’ll text you?” Steve asks

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Your bottom lip is tucked between your teeth as you say it.

“Okay, cool cool. I’ll ah, see you later.” Steve nods his head, backing away from the table slowly.

Sprinting to the backroom, he sees Robin who pretends like she hasn’t been listening in.

“Robs, I fucking did it!” Steve whisper yells, still cautious knowing your still out there.

“I honestly thought you were gonna back out for a second! I’m so proud of you for hanging in there!”

The two of them start hopping around like jumping beans, beaming so brightly they can outshine any star in the sky.

“So you got her number?” Robin asks, heavily breathing from all their excitement.

“Fuck-“ stopping dead in his tracks, Steve bolts to the door and back out to the front.

That’s where he finds you’ve already left and he’s heartbroken. The only memory that you were even there is your lingering perfume that sticks to the air.

You’ll probably be back some time soon but he’s still a little let down knowing he didn’t fully seal the deal. Looking closely at the table, he notices Aidan left one of his drawings.

Picking up the paper, he looks at it closely realizing Aidan didn’t leave it, you did.

Steve,

You left before I could give you my number. I didn’t want to disrupt your little party or anything.

Can’t wait to get that ice cream.

-your favorite customer

683-027-9305

Folding up the paper, Steve sticks it in the pocket of his apron.

“Don’t worry Steve, she’ll be back.” Robin calls out from behind the counter, apparently not seeing the little not that was left.

“I know she will.” It’s said quietly but the smile on his lips isn’t.

It’s beautiful on this side of the rainbow, Steve thinks, the pot of gold was so worth all the work. Robin was right, he still had it.

Thank you all for joining me on this second day of my celebration!!! I hope you all enjoy!! Love you all ❤️

-

-

-

-

[exhaslo]

Ok ok soooo what if you did like a fasion designer y/n and she is helping Miguel redesign his suit then like as she is measuring him or something she notices he is hard and like ✨smut✨

Oh, reader will take the measurements alright. Hopefully they can remember it *wink wink*

Warning: MINORS DNI, smut, p in v, oral (m receiving), slow sex, mirror sex

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"How did this happen?! I specifically remember both of us working on this suit, making it nearly impossible to tear!" You yelled towards a poor, nervous Peter.

"To be fair...It wasn't one of my villains."

"Oh? I'm sorry, I didn't know heroes could villain swap! Who the hell did you trade with? The Guardians of the Galaxy?" You scoffed, holding the destroyed suit in your hands.

"Easy, (Y/N), only I can bully them this much." Miguel said as he walked into your office, "You also have to remember, he's new."

"Which is why I helped him with the suit." You hissed lowly and tossed it back to the Peter, "You get to remake it. When done, I want to know who the hell you fought that tore the suit to shreds."

"..."

Peter kept quiet as he slowly made his way out of your office. The silence was more than enough for you to start assuming shit. Inhaling deeply, you walked over to your espresso machine and made both you and Miguel a cup of coffee.

"You know the work you do is above all," Miguel hummed as he took a seat on your couch. You gave him a pout,

"But it's never enough. How am I supposed to be helping you all make suits if they never hold up after a few fights?"

"They're not supposed too," Miguel reassured you, "Only special conditions like my original suit can withstand such events."

"But you won't let me touch the stuff."

"It's unstable for a reason." Miguel said with a heavy sigh and approached you from behind, "But, like everyone else. I need to upgrade my suit."

"Oh? No more blue and red?!" You gasped in shock, then grabbed his hands, "Ohhhhh, does this mean-"

"Yes, I'm letting you help me make a new suit."

You jumped with joy, nearly squealing at the thought of helping Miguel. The man liked to keep his toys to himself. That, and you would finally get a chance to measure him. There was a glint in your eyes as you observed him.

Miguel was a FINE man. Compared to all of the Spiders, he was definitely your type. When Miguel first approached you with the intension of making super hero suits, you nearly drooled at the thought. You loved a challenge.

And Miguel was your new target.

"So, when can I take the measurements?" You asked, handing Miguel a cup of coffee. Miguel raised a brow,

"I can have Lyla send them over-"

"Seriously? What the hell am I supposed to be here for then?" You huffed, giving Miguel a glare.

"Fine. Is tomorrow alright?"

"It's a date."

-------

Miguel was internally screaming as he sat in his office, staring at you on the cameras. The thoughts he had about you. The things you did to him. Miguel had a damn good reason why he never went to you for his suits. You brought out the worst of him.

Even now, the thought of you being up close to him was turning Miguel on. He was going to have to take precautionary measures in order not to lose control.

"Fuck."

--------

Today was the day. You had your morning coffee, your best outfit and your best panties attitude. No one was going to disturb you today. Your office was closed to everyone expect Miguel. This was the chance of a lifetime.

Getting your station and measurements ready, you just smiled from ear to ear. Your notepad was set aside, ready for you to take down Miguel's numbers.

"(Y/N)? Are you here?" Miguel asked as he entered. You hurried over and locked the door,

"The chance of a lifetime is mine. Get your ass up on my stage! We begin with your chest!" You cheered. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he took his shirt off,

"At least one of us is enjoying this."

You were giddy with glee as you approached Miguel. Your gaze against his chest as you started to take his measurements. You could not lie, being this close to him was driving you crazy. His cologne smelled so good too.

You hummed quietly to yourself as your fingers stroked his chest. Every now and then you grabbed your pencil and wrote in your small notepad. Moving down to his hips, you kept your focus. Miguel's body was just perfect.

"(Y/N)...Maybe we should take a break," Miguel grunted lowly.

"Not yet," You muttered.

Your hands rested against the rim of his pants, reading the numbers on your measuring tape. Adjusting the tape, you leaned down in front of Miguel and felt your face burn up. His hard erection was right in front of your face.

"Ah-" Your eyes widen and without thinking, "Should I measure this too?"

"If you want," Miguel whispered.

Both of you weren't thinking.

Your fingers gripped Miguel's boxers, slowly pulling them down. Your attention was focused on his large, thick cock. With a gulp, you grabbed your measuring tape and wrapped it around his meaty shaft. A shudder ran down your spine, before you checked the length.

"Is this...proper...length?" You whispered, your fingers wrapped around his dick, "Or should I-"

"You should," Miguel groaned lowly.

You could feel your heartbeat in your panties as you leaned towards Miguel's dick. Your tongue gently swirling around his tip, listening to his low groans and grunts. You glanced at the mirrors all around you, the sight turning you on more.

You were on your knees with Miguel's dick in your mouth. Inhaling through your nose, you leaned forward and started to suck his dick. Your hands resting against his hips as you bobbed your head back and forth. His thick shaft hitting the back of your throat.

Your panties grew damper as you felt Miguel's bitter precum start to go down your throat. His hands gripping onto your hair as he started to move your mouth faster. The sheer length of his dick was starting to burn your throat as you gripped his hips.

"Fuck, hn, (Y/N)!" Miguel hissed.

Tears formed in the corner of your eyes as you tried to touch yourself. Unable to handle the burning sensation anymore, you pulled away from Miguel, panting heavy. Quickly, you stood up and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him.

Miguel was quick to follow as he nearly tore your pants, tossing them across the room. His talons ripping your panties as he started to rub his dick against your wet cunt.

"Hah~ You owe me...new underwear and pants now," You moaned, pressing your body against his. Miguel grunted as he pressed you against one of the mirrors,

"You wanted to take my measurements," He hissed, pressing his thick cock inside you.

"Hn~ Mhm~ Y-You wanted a suit,"

"I still do," Miguel hummed, sitting his dick nice and deep inside your tight velvet walls, "Do you still remember my size?"

"O-Of course!" You huffed, glancing at yourself in the mirror, "Y-You're way too big."

"Haha, but look how well you take me,"

A shiver ran down your spine as Miguel lifted your body closer to his. He spread your legs, allowing you to see his cock deep inside your dripping pussy. The sight alone was making you hot. With a slow thrust, you moaned, nearly shaking in his grip.

"Sucking me in so well," Miguel sucked against your neck as he continued his slow, yet rough thrusts, "This was why I didn't want you to measure me."

"Ah~ Ah~ Y-You should have, mhm~ let me, oh god~" You cried out, feeling yourself about to cum.

"You're right, I should have. Look at how perfect your pussy is sucking my dick in," Miguel grunted.

Turning your face to the mirror in front, you moaned as Miguel slapped his dick back inside you. Your eyes rolled back as you cam, crying out as he kept his slow thrusts. Miguel's hands gripped your breasts, pinching your nipples as he hummed against your ear,

"Do you still remember my measurements?"

"D-Deep~"

You trembled as your pussy fluttered against his dick. Miguel chuckled in response and pressed your body against the mirror, rubbing your clit as he moved even more slowly. You cried, begging for him to go faster.

"Not until you tell me my measurements."

"P-Perfect!" You cried out, moving your own hips, "S-So deep! S-So big ah~"

"Hm, good enough,"

You cried loudly as Miguel's pace finally fasten. His dick slamming against your cervix, causing you to cream and suck his cock more. Your body shaking as your juices started to stain your floor. Miguel grunted as he pulled you closer, reaching his own high.

"Want to watch me fill this pretty little pussy?" Miguel groaned. You nodded,

"Yes!"

Lifting you back up, Miguel held your legs open. His had you staring in the mirror with him, watching your own fucked out expression contort in pleasure. You gasped as Miguel pinched your clit once more, watching you cum against his cock once more.

You cried and leaned back, but Miguel kept your face towards the mirror. You gasped and moaned as he slapped himself once more inside you, filling you with his cum. Both of you took a minute to catch your breathe before Miguel set you down,

"Are you alright? Let me clean you up," Miguel said worriedly. You grabbed his hand,

"I may have forgotten your measurements."

"Oh?" Miguel said with a low chuckle. You glanced up at him, cheeks red with embarassment,

"I think I need a reminder."

"As many times as you need."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'll take his measurements any day. I mean hope you enjoyed!! Haha

[moodriingz]

Into Your Room | L. Hughes

Summary | Luke breaks up with the reader and they're both miserable

Pairing | Luke Hughes x reader, Jack Hughes x platonic! reader, Ethan Edwards x platonic! reader

Warning | Breakups ? and maybe three curse words ? that's about it!

Author's Note | This is my first post! I'm so excited because I love this song and all I could think about for a couple of days was this scenario. Please send requests and what you think!

Masterlist

You and Luke started dating while he was at the University of Michigan. Sure, you knew when He went to play for the Devils long-distance would be difficult because of your classes and his practices and games but you wanted to try. So it came as a shock when Luke broke up with you halfway through the summer after his NHL Debut.

“Y/N I really think we need to take a breather,” said Luke while you were both watching the sunset on the beach of the lake house. 

“What?” You asked. It felt like your world came crashing down out of nowhere. You guys had barely been together a year. But you were inseparable at school and during the summers. 

“Yeah, I just need to focus on hockey right now and you have your classes. I just don’t think it’s going to work out,” Luke rambled.

“But I want to make it work. I told you that before you left for New Jersey,” 

“I don’t want to be held back because of some relationship,” Luke said and you stayed quiet. Your heart was shattering and he was stomping all over it.

“Ok, I’ll get all of my stuff and go back home. No point in wasting any time I guess,” You said with blurry eyes.

You packed up your bag and got ready to go. You saw Jack on the way out and gave him a hug goodbye.

“I don’t know what He’s thinking. I’m sure He’ll come around. It'll all work out,” Jack said into your hair even though it felt like he was trying to convince himself instead of you.

“It’s fine Jack, just take care of him for me,” you said and left the house and got in your car without looking back at one of your favorite places in the world. 

I will run after your moving car

And I will follow you

You're my northern star

Luke was miserable for the rest of the summer. He didn’t want to admit it but he was lost without you. He wished he stopped your car as you left. He regretted everything he said. He was just scared you would find someone better than him at school now that he wasn't there.

Luke told himself that once the season started he wouldn’t have time to think about how much he missed you. Boy was he wrong.

He stalked your Instagram in his free time. He was sure he was almost always the first viewer of any story you posted and had to force himself to ignore your profile picture anytime it came up when he opened the app.

You looked like you hadn’t missed a beat once you got back to school. Always posting when you’d go out with friends or when you’d study at your favorite coffee shop.

You both had so many great memories there anytime you’d post your coffee order he could basically hear the espresso machines and the smell of coffee. He'd remember your laughter from when he had gotten foam on his top lip. Or the time you were so nervous for finals and wouldn’t look up from your computer until he got you a refill of your coffee. Your smile was so bright from such a small gesture he knew he had to do anything he could to see it.

Except he did the opposite. His last memory of you was full of tears as he watched your car pull away. He didn’t know what to do. Luke was a mess while you seemed fine. How could he ever convince you to take him back?

You don't know how much I need you

Yeah, I feel the weight

It's crushing me

You were a mess coming back to school. You missed Luke more than you thought you would. The two of you spent so much time together and when you couldn’t be with each other you would text every chance you’d get.

You missed his goofy smile and curly hair. Luke Hughes was everywhere. The memory of him was in the Library where you would have study dates, He was in your favorite bar where he couldn’t take his eyes off of you all night, He was in your classes where you would sit together and whisper random things back and forth. He was everywhere except where you needed him to be. With you.

Your friends always dragged you out even when all you wanted to do was stay in and watch your favorite TV show and wallow. They always made sure to take good photos so you could post “to make Luke know what he’s missing” they’d always say. 

They basically had a schedule set of when to study with you or get coffee. You didn’t mean to make them watch over you as much as you did, but you couldn’t help how much you needed Luke. 

Finally one night You convinced them that you were too busy with homework to hang out when really you were going to watch the New Jersey Devils season opener. Ethan Edwards saw right through your lies about studying because he knew you liked to finish most of your work at the beginning of the week.

He insisted on watching the game with you and you let him because he was the only one who remotely knew what you were feeling. You both watched pregame, and when the commentators showed Luke all you could notice were his eyebags and how tired he looked. Your heart shattered all over again.

You watched him get his first assist of the season and your heart clenched. If you were still together he would’ve called you after the game and told you all about it. Now you just felt like a spectator while he was all you could think about. Ethan turned to you and noticed how upset you were with tears threatening to spill over. He was tired of seeing his friends destroy themselves.

So, maybe, take me into your room

Without you, my soul is eternally doomed

You're the center of this universe

My sorry ass revolves around you

No, I can't do without you

Jack couldn’t take Luke’s self-pity anymore. All he would do was look at his phone and play hockey. Jack could tell it was affecting Luke more than he was letting on. His eyes were almost always bloodshot and he looked like he was moving through the motions at practice. 

Luke was a shell of his former self and Jack knew he had to do something. He texted Ethan because he knew that besides Luke that’s who you would talk to the most. They both started plotting to get you back together. The Devils had a game against the Red Wings right before Thanksgiving and knew there had to be some way to get you there.

Ethan practically begged on his knees for you to come to the game. He told you he was gifted the tickets and would feel horrible to not go. Everyone else had already left for Thanksgiving, leaving you as his only option.

You weren’t stupid. You knew the game was against the Devils. You had the date marked in your planner as when you would have seen Luke if you were still together. You both looked forward to the game because it was the first time you would’ve seen him play in the NHL and then you would've gone to his parent’s lake house for Thanksgiving the next day. At least that's what was supposed to happen. 

You only agreed to Ethan because you felt bad no one else could go. Ethan promised no funny business, and you could leave the game the second the final buzzer went off. It felt safe and you could see Jack. You missed Luke, but you were also close with Jack. It was something Luke loved about you, how great you got along with his brothers. 

Luke had no idea about the plan Jack and Ethan were brewing. He was especially miserable because he knew if he didn’t mess up the best thing in his life several months ago, you would be at the game cheering him on. He was in hell beating himself over it. All he wanted was to see you in the Jersey he gave you right before his NHL debut. 

Ethan came and picked you up all giddy when he noticed you were wearing a Hughes 43 jersey.

“What? It’s the only Devils gear I have, and I’m sure as hell not going to cheer for them in a Red Wings jersey,” You said without taking a breath.

“I wasn’t even going to say anything.”

You two find your seats and you realize how close to the ice it is. You’re on the Devils side facing the bench a couple rows up from the ice. Luke is definitely going to see you because of your proximity.

“If you had told me how close we were going to be I definitely would’ve worn-” You said before getting cut off.

“Don’t even finish that sentence we’re rooting for my team tonight,” Ethan said talking over the music.

The Devils start coming out for warm up and it doesn’t take Luke more than two seconds to see you. You both lock eyes and don’t look away. He notices you’re in the jersey he gave you, and his heart flutters with hope. He just stands there looking at you until Nico pushes him to tell him has to get ready for the game. You, however, look like a deer in headlights and your heart stops. You hadn’t seen Luke since the summer. Tears start to gather in your eyes and you know you have to leave.

“Ethan I can’t do this. I can’t be here,” You say with tears starting to fall.

“Please you promised me plus he can’t even do anything he’s on the ice,” Ethan says trying to convince you knowing it won’t work.

You start to gather your things when Luke notices. He rushes across the ice and knocks on the glass to get your attention. You instantly regret looking his way, but his eyes look desperate and excited your heart flutters the tiniest bit. 

You read his mouth as he begs you to stay. You just look at him and Ethan debating what to do. You decide to stay and see what happens. Ethan's right he can’t do anything while he’s on the ice, right?

I'm throwing stones at your window

To get you to notice me

Don't make me stand outside, in the pouring rain

With a freshly ripped human heart from my rib cage

And a boom-box

How pathetic, babe

It was a hard loss for the Devils, but the end of the game meant you could finally leave. Ethan was right, Luke didn’t bother you for the rest of the game besides constantly looking at you when he wasn’t on the ice or there was a faceoff right in front of your seats.

As you and Ethan are getting ready to leave you get a text.

From moosey

please don’t leave

i really want to talk

You showed Ethan and he looked at you bewildered.

“You never changed his name?”

“I never had the heart,” You say looking back down at the texts. The three bubbles show up and disappear over and over again.

“I think you should go. What's the worst that could happen, right?” Ethan asks. 

“I don’t know he can rip my heart out all over again and tell me off for coming to his game,” You say, swaying on your toes to your heels.

“He won’t do that trust me,” You don’t even have the energy to ask Ethan as your anxiousness bubbles up to your throat.

To moosey

where can we meet?

From moosey

come down to the locker room i can tell security you and ethan are coming

To moosey

ok 

Luke has to stop himself from running to you when you get to the locker room. He wants to pick you up and spin you around like he used to do after his Michigan games. Instead, he walks up to you and says a simple hi.

“What did you want to talk about?” You whisper nervous about what he has to say.

“Us.” Your breath stops ready for him to tell you off for coming.

“I fucked up ending our relationship,” He says with his eyes turning red.

“Luke, why now? I was ready to fight for us but you dismissed me like I was nothing to you.” 

“Because I was scared,” He admits. “I was scared you’d find someone who’d be able to give you more attention than I could. And that’s what you deserve, but God I can’t be without you. You’re the opposite of nothing, you’re my everything and I’m so lost without you. The last couple of months have been absolute hell.”

“You should’ve talked to me. I would’ve told you there’s no one better for me than you. The last couple of months have wrecked me.” You tell him.

So, don't turn away

You must know how much I need you, need you

Yeah, I can feel your pain

I hate to think how bad I treated you

But I know a place

Where the darkness can't reach us

“Please forgive me. Please can we just forget this all happened?” Luke begs you.

You just nod and launch yourself into his arms for a kiss. He deepens it by holding you in by your hair. Your heart flutters and you never want this moment to end.

“Would it be too much to ask you to spend Thanksgiving with us? I just don’t want to spend any more time away from you. But I get it-,” Luke asks nervously before you cut him off.

“No I’d love to come, I miss everybody.”

“Did I miss it? Did our plan work?” Jack comes into the hallway shouting excitedly.

“What plan?” Luke asks Ethan and Jack.

“You didn’t,” You say.

“Oh but we did, who do you think gave me the tickets?” said Ethan mischievously.

“Well I guess your plan did work, good job boys,” you say with a blush on your cheeks.

Luke kisses your cheek and tells Jack you are spending Thanksgiving with the family and you won't be going anywhere anytime soon. You finally feel like you’re back where you belong. While Luke feels the relief of finally having his world back. 

No, I can't do without you, baby

Maybe, take me into your room

Without you, my soul is eternally doomed

You're the center of this universe

My sorry ass revolves around you

You— And again

[newluvrs]

Sungchan ₊ ⊹₍ᐢᐢ₎  mdni!! 18+ currently listening to: VENUS AS A BOY - BJORK word count: 3k bb note: sungchan is so Venus as a boy coded

Its 4:37 a.m. when you finally close your laptop for the evening.  Your skin feels like shit and you’re practically vibrating from the amount of espresso shots that were in your iced latte.  You haven’t moved from your desk since noon, only taking miniature breaks to go take a piss and grab a quick snack.  Finals week always makes you feel barely human.  When you finally turn off dnd on your phone, your met with a trillion notifications, but only a specific person holds all your attention.  Your heart lurches when you see Sungchan’s name under missed calls, you almost feel guilty recalling your demand you made earlier this week, almost. 

-

“Are you serious?”

“Sungchan, please I am quite literally begging.” 

“Baby, I just don’t understand why you don’t want to study with me...” 

You know damn well he knows why and just wants to make you say it.  You look at him with a bored expression on your face.

“You’re distracting.”

When he feigns confusion at your simple response, you roll your eyes before continuing.  

“Fine.  If you want me to be vulgar I’ll be vulgar.  We both know that I want to fuck you all the time.  You know that it only gets worse when I’m stressed.  I can’t sit there with you and just study when 90% of the time all I can think about is jumping your bones.”

“90% of the time, huh?” 

You want to kiss the stupid smug grin off of his face, but you settle instead for turning your back to him, trying to steel your resolve.  

“It’ll only be a week… it can’t be that hard, right?”

-

Except that’s absolutely not true because why would he ever make things easy for you?  It’s only been a few days since, and you can no longer count on both hands the amount of times you have had to stop yourself from driving to his place. It’s not even his fault, for the most part.  Your boyfriend is just so hot.  You swear BeReal is plotting against you when the timer has just so happened to go off every day this week when he’s in the gym.  How are you supposed to contain yourself when he walks around looking like that, and always so willing to give you what you want.  You’ve had to pause in the middle of studying a couple of times this week just to get yourself off.  Truly you are no better than a man.  

Sungchan himself has pleaded with you a couple of times to just let him come see you.  Trying to explain to you that you’re being ridiculous.  In his head he can’t understand why you won’t just let him be there to help relieve your stress.  He knows that you’re the insatiable one in this relationship.  You having explained to him after you first slept together that your sex drive tended to be high.  And he’s always been more than willing to help you out, whether it be fucking you exactly the way you need after a long day or bringing you to a tender release with his mouth first thing in the morning before you go to work.  He knows exactly what you need when you need it, so he can’t understand why you’re torturing yourself (and him) now. 

chan <3: plz let me come over 

Needless to say you absolutely weren’t expecting to receive a message from him this late at night.  

You: Why r u up??? 

chan <3: ochem :/

chan <3: I need to see u :(

You want to ignore the message, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t subconsciously press your thighs together.  All you’ve been able to think about since you last saw him is how bad you need him.  You can only do so much with your own fingers, and each time you get off has just been less and less satisfying.  Before you even get a chance to respond another message comes through. 

chan <3: im coming over

Immediately you rush to jump in the shower, not exactly feeling the most desirable in the ratty t-shirt you’ve been wearing for the last 2 days and your unwashed hair.  You tell yourself you’re not gonna let him stay over.  That all you’re gonna do is give him a quick kiss and a hug, just so that both of you can see that the other is doing fine.  And then you’re gonna tell him that you’ll see him in a few more days, after your last exam.  You say this to yourself even as you forego throwing on a bra.  You say this to yourself again as you pull up your sleeping shorts without putting on any underwear.  You tell yourself this one last time as you climb under your sheets, making yourself comfortable against your pillows.  When the familiar sound of your apartment door unlocking finally comes, you feel yourself become nervous suddenly, voice shaking as you holler that you’re in your bedroom.  

You try your best to act like you weren’t waiting for him, but you fail when as soon as you see him standing in your doorway you immediately open your arms wide for him to join you.  He lays himself next to you in your bed, wrapping his arms around your middle resting his head on your chest as you leave kisses on his forehead.  Immediately you feel comforted by his presence, your mood doing a 180. The both of you stay like this for a moment, just holding each other, feeling the exhaustion in your bones.  It’s him who breaks the silence. 

“Missed you.”  

He looks up at you when he says it, his tired eyes making your heart turn.  You can tell that he also just showered, his hair slightly damp and face covered in a light sheen from his skincare products, pimple patches and all.  You love being with him like this, tired and both of your faces bare, it feels like the both of you truly see each other.  

“”m so tired.” 

You sigh as you rub your eyes, truly you’re so exhausted.  Stress has been wrecking your body and making you feel wound too tight.  Not seeing Sungchan has only made it worse, making you feel touch starved and lonely on top of everything else.  He can already tell without you having to say it that it’s been a long couple of days for you.  He knows how hard you can push yourself to succeed.  Being told your whole life that you’re a hard worker only fueled your anxieties of being the best you could be, afraid to let everyone down.

“Let me take care of you.”  

You look down at him still resting his chin on your chest as he says so, his pretty lips pulled into a pout.  

“Just want to help you relieve your stress, will you let me do that for you baby?”  

You feel your pussy throb at this.  It makes you feel good to know that just as much as you always want Sungchan, he always wants you too.  When you don’t say anything he moves to slot himself between your legs, planting soft kisses against your jaw.

“I need to make my pretty girl feel good.  All I’ve been able to think about these last few days is fucking you.”

You can feel that he’s already half-hard as he rocks his hips against yours, a gentle sigh falling from your mouth at the smallest bit of pleasure.  

“..please.”  

That’s all he needs to hear before he’s pushing your shirt up to your hips, his hands moving to your waist as he pulls you fully against him.  He moves his lips gently against yours as you softly moan into his mouth.  You feel so sleepy even right now, everything feeling like a dream as he grinds against you, panting into your mouth.  

“Felt like I was going crazy without you.  I was waiting for a call from you, telling me that you needed me and I was ready to drop everything.  You’re all I could think about.”  

You might be the insatiable one in this relationship but Sungchan is a close second.  For every time that you needed him to make you feel good, there was a time where he needed to make you feel good.  There’s nothing in this world hotter to him than the effect he has on you.  

“Your stupid fucking BeReals made me have to take several… study breaks.”  

Your ears burn hot as you admit this, casting your eyes to between your bodies watching as Sungchan rolls his hips into yours.  Heat blooming in your chest seeing the way the two of you fit perfectly together.

“I wanted to cave so many times… I’m happy you came over.” 

His heart swells in his chest hearing you say this. Placing a tender kiss against your cheek before he pulls away to pull your shorts off.  When he comes face to face with your bare cunt when he was expecting panties, he feels like he’s gonna combust.  

“Jesus y/n, you drive me fucking crazy.”  

He wants to be cocky about it, tease you for having such shit resolve when it comes to him, but he’s so hard it hurts.  You look so soft and tender, hair still damp from the shower, your old t-shirt still on along with your glasses.  He leans on an elbow as he reaches a hand down to play with you, when his fingers brush against your core you’re already soaked. When he looks up at you in silent awe your hands are covering your face, trying to shy away from his gaze.  

“I can’t help it..” You mumble out from behind your hands.  

He doesn’t want to make you wait any longer, slipping two fingers up and down your slit, coating them in your wetness.  He rubs them along your clit briefly just to hear your gasps, rutting his cock against your thigh as he does so.  He moves to pull your hands away from your face as he lines his fingers up with your hole.  Pressing them in he revels in the way you shut your eyes in bliss, mouth falling open.  He feels cocky now, smirking to himself at the way you moan when he crooks them up once they’re fully inside, rubbing up against your top wall.  

“Sungchan fuck..” 

You reach out for him, pulling him down to kiss you while his fingers play with you.  You stay like this for awhile, just making out as his fingers play with you.  He slides in a third to feel the way you gasp into his mouth.  When you arch your chest into his he almost dies at the way he can feel your nipples through your t-shirt.  

“You’re so needy, baby.”  

He presses kisses all over your face as he says this, sliding his fingers out of you to give your clit some more attention.  

“Why are your clothes still on.. this is so unfair.” 

He laughs to himself when you say this, finding it cute the way you try to make demands even as your body is twitching, caving in on itself from the pleasure.  

“Sorry baby, ‘m just gonna make you cum like this real quick, and then I’ll take them off, deal?” 

You can’t even process what he’s saying anymore, just nodding your head as you rock your hips up into his hand.  He slips his fingers back into your cunt, palm grinding into your clit as he finger fucks you.  You’re so distracted by his fingers you don’t even notice that he’s pushed your shirt up to your tits until you feel his mouth wrap around one of your nipples.  Unsure what to do with your hands, all you can do is claw at the sheets, body so overwhelmed from the pleasure.

You cum just like this, the only warning Sungchan gets is the way your body seizes up, your moans reaching a whinier pitch.  He groans at the feeling of you sporadically clenching around his fingers as he fucks you through your orgasm.  Only coming to a halt when you try and push his hand away.  You shudder as he pulls his fingers out, your throat feeling dry as you lay there, boneless.  He’s tender with the way he treats you after, leaving kisses all over your face.  

“So good to me baby, you feel better?”

You nod your head, slowly blinking, still trying to come down from your first high.  When you finally find the words to speak there’s only one thing you can say.

“Goddamn.”

You don’t even care that he smirks to himself at your comment, he deserves to be cocky right now.  When he moves back between your legs, you can already feel heat blooming again, setting your nerves alight.  You can see how hard he is through his sweats, dick straining against the fabric.  Sungchan already knows that cumming once is never enough for you, which is why you want to slap the smug grin off of his face when you hear him ask,

“You want to go again?” 

When you glare at him trying to seem threatening, he can only laugh at how cute you are.  Bringing his lips to yours to kiss the pout off your face.  He leans back on his heels to pull his long sleeve over his head.  You feel yourself throb when you see his body.  You were never one to care about muscles or whether or not someone goes to the gym, but you can’t help but admire all of Sungchan’s hard work.  

“Chan, you’re so handsome.” 

Sungchan feels himself blush at the compliment, filling with pride when you admire him so openly.  He goes to pull down his sweats, freeing his dick from the restrictive fabric.  

“You’re gonna sit there and tease me for not wearing panties, when you show up at my door without boxers on under your sweats?”  

You can’t even sound mean right now because you just feel desperate.  Trying to sound authoritative while simultaneously spreading your legs a little wider to make room for him.  

“Can’t help it I needed to make myself easily accessible to my baby.”  

Now it’s your turn to blush, rolling your eyes like you’re not affected.  He digs a condom from his pocket before sliding it on, you want to make a joke about why it was there in the first place, but the joke dies in your throat when he’s finally lining himself up between your legs.  He runs the head of his cock up and down your slit a few times before finally, finally, pushing in to your wet heat.  The stretch is so good, as he gentle eases himself into you, bringing a hand to thumb at your clit.  The slide easy with how wet you already were from your previous orgasm.  Sungchan loves the way your body opens up for him so easily.  

When he finally bottoms out, both of you just sit there panting.  You take in the sleepy look on Sungchan’s face and think about how yours must mirror his, recalling how it’s close to 6 a.m. now.  You bring a hand up to his cheek, just looking at him as you whine from how deep he feels in you, making you feel so full.  When you finally nod for him to start moving, he pulls out slowly before pushing back in just as slowly, hips reaching deep within you.  Sungchan knows that now is one of those times where you just needed to feel him close.  He fucks you just like this, slow but making sure to sink all the way in each time so you feel full.  

You’re so tired your eyes are starting to slip closed at the pleasure, just feeling so good and so sleepy.  Sungchan sees this and brings himself up to murmur against your ear.

“‘m I fucking you good?”  

All you can do is nod your head, gasping out each time he reaches deep within you.  

“’m I fucking you like you deserve?”  

When he feels you clench around him he keeps talking.

“My needy girl deserves to be fucked exactly how she likes.  You’ve been working so hard baby, just let me take care of you.  Let your pretty boy fuck you good.”  

Sungchan pulls away to rest his head in the crook of your neck, hips picking up the pace.  You bring a shaky hand to the one he has stationed by your head, urging him to lace his fingers with yours.  His heart feeling tender at the action, the gentle affection a heavy contrast to the way his hips are repeatedly rutting into yours.  The both of you are fighting to stay awake, fueled by the need to get each other off.  Sungchan knows you’re close when your moans start to change in pitch.

“You gonna cum?” 

Your eyes are squeezed shut as you hum a simple “mhm” back to him.  Sungchan uses all the energy he has left to fuck into that tender spot within you, hips refusing to let up.  

“Cum pretty girl, then we can go to sleep.” 

You just nod your head, wrapping your arms around him, trying to bring your face to his.  Sungchan takes the hint, softly pressing his lips to yours as he fucks into you one, two, three more times before you’re whimpering against him, body twitching as he feels you seize up around him.  He follows close behind, spilling into the condom as you twitch around him, fighting to keep your eyes open so you can see the way his face contorts from the bliss.  When he’s done going through the motions, he pulls out of you, hissing from the sensitivity.  He disposes of the condom before pulling his sweats back up, cleaning you up quickly with a damp towel trying his best to be gentle, putting a clean pair of underwear on you before finally sliding next to you in your bed.  

When he cuts the lights off you can see that the sun is starting to shine, both of your eyes feeling heavy as he wraps himself around you.  Before you both doze off you hear him mumble one last thing.

“I really did miss you.” 

You smile to yourself, placing a kiss on his pouty lips. 

“I missed you more Chan.”  

[leclerc-s]

short n sweet

series masterlist

liked by maxjonesverstappen1, isabellaperez, penelopetrevino and others

maejonesverstappen short n' sweet is officially yours now!!!

i feel extremely lucky that each time i write a new record i learn a little bit more about myself, and can create from that place. the making of short n' sweet was one of the most special, honest, up and down, stupid and fun experiences of my life.

i thought if something was funny enough to make me laugh then maybe it belonged in a song. happy or sad!

thank you to my brilliant talented friends, writers, producers, mixers, engineers, and creative minds that helped me bring this world and these songs to life. not a serious thought was thunk yet somehow they wefre..lol i love you and am so grateful.

i will keep this short n sweet buuuut more soon. go listen now and i hope you love it

tagged: jackantonoff, amyallen, julianbulian, johntheblind, julia michaels, sharp_stick, jeff.gunnell

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maxjonesverstappen yeah fuck me i guess..it's not like i sat with you for hours on the piano while jack was on the phone...

maejonesverstappen i love you 💙 maxjonesverstappen okay 😊😊 love you too 💙

user28 MAE WREN JONES!! YOU ARE INSANE!!

isabellaperez i need someone to inject this album into my veins

maejonesverstappen you're insane actually isabellaperez pot meet kettle

user67 this is insane. someone sedate me.

charles_leclerc so this is what you meant by 'no more depresso up in this bitch'?

maejonesverstappen exactly leclerc!! charles_leclerc to be fair, we do love a good sad song maejonesverstappen yes, mr. i helped write so long, london. we are well aware

user19 oh this album has versatility. i was expecting something like espresso to be the entire album noooo.

user27 the range singers have to go from a pop happy song to a sad depressing song will never fail to amaze me user03 for real!! i could never be a singer because i don't have that in me

rhysjones i don't think max will appreciate his wife posting the 5th picture...

alex_albon this is the man who admitted he would sleep with daniel if given the chance... i don't think he cares georgerussell he's too busy talking about retirement in press conferences to care maxverstappenjones1 i'm very secure in my marriage thank you very much maejonesverstappen i however live in fear he'll dump me for daniel and runaway with him

user75 bed chem is about max verstappen.

user47 you're so right bestie. the blue eyes line gave that shit away

schecoperez it's 6 in the morning. i should not have to deal with his screaming this early...

maejonesverstappen i'm very sorry but i warned you against staying with him. maxjonesverstappen1 i would take offense but it's very true schecoperez as the children say...this is my hell

danieljonesricciardo well that's one way to celebrate your anniversary...

maejonesricciardo don't be bitter because i did it before daphne could. danieljonesricciardo my wife released an album on my birthday!! maejonesricciardo tomato tomahto!

oscarpiastri something tells me these guys didn't listen to the full album

logansargeant i know way too much about their sex life baileywinters PINK FUZZY HANDCUFFS??? landonorris SHE'S INSANE!

user54 someone needs to study mae's brain under a microscope ❤ by penelopetrevino, lewishamilton, jensonbutton and others

mickschumacher god bless his mother's genetics indeed

maejonesverstappen this is why you're my favorite mick mickschuamcher 😊

victoriaverstappen it's certainly something... great album, ignoring the songs about my brother that is.

maejonesverstappen NO! VICTORIA LOOK AWAY! arthur_leclerc bit too late for that mae...

user43 i wonder how daphne's doing...is she clutching her pearls?

user30 is she flabbergasted? user90 PUH-LEASE mrs jones-ricciardo has no room to judge. she's written worse, possibly. user43 you're so right. how could i possibly forget about dress and the moaning user30 OH MY GOD?

kellypiquet amazing album 💫

maejonesverstappen thanks? btw max isn't in this post is that why you didn't like it? maxjonesverstappen1 mae, we've talked about this. pr is not happy when you pick fights with people. user13 oh the lore here goes so deep it's insane zoyatorres dear user13 you have no idea just how deep the lore goes here.

lewis hamilton if i hear another song about max emilian jones-verstappen's dick it will be too soon.

charles leclerc and somehow I'M the one with the long name

natalia ruiz you have three middle names. you DO have a long name charlie

mark webber it's too early for lewis to be talking about dicks

max jones-verstappen you're just jealous because you've never had a song written about you lewis

isabella perez 🤓☝️ that's not true jones-bitchstappen george russell ???

isabella perez according to my research, aka a tiktok deepdive with osc at 2 am, one nicki minaj wrote "you ain't fuck nicki, you fucked nicole body" about one sir lewis hamilton

nico rosberg so that is why he ended his career as one hit wonder xnda

lewis hamilton literally fuck you nico nico rosberg you've tried pierre gasly WHAT THE FUCK? lewis hamilton STOP TELLING PEOPLE I'VE TRIED SLEEPING WITH YOU! THAT'S NOT TRUE!

alex albon HE DATED NICKI MINAJ??

lando norris WHO DATED NICKI? alex albon LEWIS!!

lewis hamilton we were friends!

daphne jones-ricciardo weeeellllll lewis hamilton daphne, don't you dare daphne jones-ricciardo i didn't do anything! lewis hamilton YOU WERE ABOUT TOO!

logan sargeant LEWIS DATED NICKI?

freya vettel this is some wild lore we're uncovering here

ollie bearman i thought he was dating shakira?

dulce perez shakira might just be old news, who the fuck knows with lewis

lewis hamilton am i not allowed to have friends now?

george russell unless you're willing to publicly announce your friendship with nico rosberg again, we'll just assume every woman you talk to is your girlfriend bailey winters at least set some realistic standards george, that's never going to happen.

nico rosberg for the record, we are friends

sebastian vettel eh, are you though? fernando alonso stay out of it homewrecker sebastian vettel mark webber ass kisser jenson button you two belong in a retirement home mark webber why am i always getting dragged into shit?

rowan todd wait, lewis dated nicki?

carlos sainz nicki who? pierre gasly nicki minaj she sings that one song about snakes mae jones-verstappen well it's an innuendo for dicks but yes pierre gasly yeah, you would know all about innuendos wouldn't you? mae jones-verstappen this is why rowan's never written a song about you

rhys jones LEWIS DATED NICKI? WHEN?

isabella perez oh back in like 2018 lewis hamilton STOP SAYING THAT! I DIDN'T DATE HER!

zoya torres awfully defensive for someone who didn't date her

jenson button oh he totally dated her

lewis hamilton YOU'RE NOT HELPING? jenson button i'm supposed to help??

daniel jones-ricciardo caught them kissing in abu dhabi

lewis hamilton STOP!

george russell he's actually screaming from his drivers room. i can hear him.

george russell update: bono just went in there an asked what was wrong and he replied with, 'they're driving me insane bono!' george russell and now kimi is asking what's wrong with him. what do i tell him?? ollie bearman nothing, let him live in delusion that all of you are super cool and not at all dumbasses max jones-verstappen who lied and told him we were cool? ollie bearman the internet

lewis hamilton i hate all of you

isabella perez can't wait to force you to do media with charles. especially those stupid song challenges just to play a nicki song lewis hamilton oh my god, what the hell did i sign up for? carlos sainz your own personal hell

esteban ocon what the fuck is happening?

mick schumacher lore dump or whatever they call it these days

maxjonesverstappen1 and maejonesverstappen posted new stories

mae said this was very cutesy, very demure, whatever that means. ps i think she did in fact kidnap one of daph's cats this guy is literally so out of it that he didn't notice that i sent him an old picture and am literally standing right in front of him. ps yes he is literally asleep. pps this not very demure of him.

liked by maxjonesverstappen1, isabellaperez, penelopetrevino and others

maejonesverstappen taste video is out now 💋

tagged: jennaortega, davemeyers, campbellrohan

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rhysjones be honest, did max flip out when he found out you were kissing jenna?

maejonesverstappen it was more of a 'do you really have to?' with a pout jennaortega it was actually a tantrum rhysjones oh i love you. please stick around to humble max jennaortega of course!

isabellaperez petition to have me star in your next music video?? i'll kiss you too

maxjonesverstappen1 back off perez, that's MY wife jennaortega he told me the same thing maxverstappen1 who invited you? jennaortega your wife did actually

user98 this music video altered my brain chemistry. i'm not even kidding

user41 you're so right for that. someone please get them to star in a movie as lesbian lovers user1 she has more chemistry with jenna then she did with barry. as if she would ever dump max for barry ❤ by maxjonesverstappen1 user52 max being a barry hater is so funny to me but you go babe.

lilymhe can i be in your next video??

maejonesverstappen of course my love 👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏼 alex_albon i thought you two would grow out of this maejonesverstappen1 wow alex being a homophobe in 2024, what would lewis think? alex_albon I'M NOT A HOMOPHOBE! i just don't want you stealing my girlfriend lilymhe and yet carmen and i never complain when we third wheel you and george alex_albon i-

user30 the chemistry was insane

user54 RIGHT? i need to see them act as love interests in a movie soon user97 max jones-verstappen would probably die user30 he just hates to see a girlboss (jenna) winning ❤ liked by jennaortega user54 it's because he knows jenna could steal his wife if she wanted too ❤ liked by jennaortega

maxjonesverstappen1 you look great and she's there

jennaortega jealousy is a disease, hope you never get well maxjonesverstappen1 i will not lose my wife to a pipsqueak user42 max is currently in the trenches. not only is this man struggling with a fuckass red bull but he's also on the verge of losing his wife

jensonbutton as the children say, i fear this ate

fernandoalo_oficial i don't think you're using that right lewishamilton he is, you're just annoying fernandoalo_oficial to quote jenson earlier, 'you belong in a retirement home' user27 man what the fuck goes on in their group chat? nicorosberg that's a question i keep asking myself every time i open it up. user50 NICO'S IN THE GROUP CHAT?

user34 they ate and left no crumbs y'all

user40 absolutely devoured the fucking plate user62 i blame mae jones-verstappen and daphne jones-ricciardo for my high expectations of music videos now

danieljonesricciardo okay, this one was insane. i love it

maejonesverstappen thank you kind sir danieljonesricciardo of course kind lady user56 if my relationship with my in-laws isn't like theirs i don't want it.

daphnejonesricciardo you're actually insane for this one

maejonesverstappen thanks i got it from my sister 🩷 daphnejonesricciardo i hate you 🩷

nataliaruiz actually run away with me, we'll raise jules as our own

charles_leclerc what the hell did i do to deserve this? zoyatorres i don't think she needs to tell you what you did freyavettel yeah we were all there oscarpiastri i agree with whatever they say charles_leclerc all of you are banned from our house nataliaruiz no, you aren't, don't listen to a word he says.

liked by maxjonesverstappen1, charles_leclerc, rhysjones and others

maejonesverstappen serena and blair (F1 version)

tagged: nataliaruiz

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nataliaruiz i love you the way charlie loves max

maejonesverstappen which is a lot maxverstappenjones1 this is slander charles_leclerc oh so you don't love me? was that a lie? maxjonesverstappen1 oh my god, you're needier than my cats are charles_leclerc this is why you haven't won a race since spain... maxjonesverstappen1 THIS IS WHY I DON'T LOVE YOU!

user09 ferrari x red bull wags are my favorite

user42 personally i love nat and penny too but there's something special about THE lestappen wife and fiancée being besties user58 it's mae being besties with charles but natalia and max being enemies for me

nataliaruiz i might just fight someone with you over the cars

maejonesverstappen oh i am so in maxjonesverstappen1 mae, we've talked about this, you can't fight anyone charles_leclerc silvia said to take this down nataliaruiz silvia loves me, she did not say that

user57 serena and blair taking on f1 was not on my bingo card this year

rhysjones i've heard we're fighting salty spice??

redbullracing i'm sorry what? rhysjones for legal reasons this is a joke maxjonesverstappen1 i can't believe i have to deal with both of you rhysjones this is all because you chose to marry my sister

isabellaperez there are 206 bones in the human body...

oscarpiastri my sisters follow you on instagram... isabellaperez i regret nothing oscar

zoyatorres i thought we were blair and serena?

maejonesversttapen we're more like peyton and brooke zoyatorres you are so right, no man is worth it logansargeant ??? maxjonesverstappen1 YOU TOO?! zoyatorres she was mine first verstappen maxjonesverstappen1 *jones-verstappen please

user86 the matching bows!!!

user31 they're giving black swan and white swan user50 mae being the white swan has never made more sense to me

vancityreynolds i'll say this serena is much more annoying than the original

maejonesverstappen this is why hugh beat the shit out of you in your movie. vancityreynolds suck it vertically challenged!

user26 tall gf and short gf

maejonesverstappen i prefer the term snack sized maxjonesverstappen1 you're literally married to me. you're not natalia's girlfriend. maejonesverstappen never stop your husband from letting you find the love of your life victoriaverstappen oh she's so right maxjonesverstappen1 STAY OUT OF THIS VICTORIA? user26 damn men can't take a joke these days. so sensitive.. user31 it's because max is losing his wife to someone new everyday.

zoyatorres just so we're clear, i'm invited to this 'fighting of people?' there's someone at the top of my list.

maejonesverstappen of course, that's who we're getting first nataliaruiz absolutely kyle_kirwood room for one more? zoyatorres 100% percent! logansargeant please take this down. charles_leclerc please take this down. maxjonesverstappen1 i'm being told to ask for you to take this down. i actually couldn't care less but for legal purposes, please take this down. zoyatorres no ❤️ maejonesverstappen no ❤️ nataliaruiz no ❤️ kyle_kirwood i meant what i said, so no ❤️

¡taglist!

@burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @applopie @lorarri @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @mypage-myfandoms @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @justtprachisblog @nichmeddar @unluckyyoshi @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @1nt3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @georgeparisole @dan3avocado @nikfigueiredo @bella-182 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @weekendlusting @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @leclercsluv @33-81 @theseus-jpg @sarah-thatstings-ann @minmira95 @casperlikej @formulaonebuff @hopenshaw @hwalllllllelujah @doodlehunz @prongsvault @anytimeanywherebitch-blog @hopenshaw

¡leclerc-s speaks! this did not age well…but also because one person asked for this i’m posting it.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[chuusheartattck]

THAT’S THAT ME ESPRESSO (TTME)

Chapter 26- Nobody knows ☕️

Exhaustion was the only thing on your mind. You’ve been sitting in your studio for an hour staring at your notebook. You were trying to come up with new songs for your album but you hit a road block. You had no inspiration and the only thing that was plaguing your mind was Scaramouche.

What a joke. How dumb you were. He’s still stuck on your mind even after you “cut him off.” Scaramouche must be doing this on purpose.

Maybe you could use this opportunity to vent out the feelings you had towards him?

Ew as if.

The thought quickly went away when you realized you had to write a full length song about him. You sighed in frustration and closed your notebook. Writers block was the worse thing that has ever happened to you.

Well, one of the worse things.

As you were exiting the studio, you opened the door as someone was about to knock. The door accidentally hits them in the face.

“Holy shit I’m so sorry,” You began to say. It was only then you tried looking at the person, and met eye to eye with the man you were just thinking about.

You were more of a psychic than Mona with how much you think about someone and they appear right in front of you.

You slammed the door shut on his face. What the fuck was he doing here? How did he know where to find you?

Thoughts raced through your mind as the door opened again.

Scaramouche has entered the studio.

Your eyes locked and there was a long moment of silence. Neither of you knew what to say. His indigo eyes piercing into yours. He kept hesitating on what to say. His mind was going blank.

“Get out,” You spoke first. It was the only thing you could say at the moment. You might’ve missed his face, his voice, the way he would look at you in moments like these. However, it wasn’t enough to get you to be less upset with him.

“Y/n.”

“Leave.”

“You’re going to hear me out.”

“Hear you out? Seriously? What more do you have to say to me?”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you started yelling at him again.

“Honestly, do you think I’m not upset with you? You repeat the same things over and over again. I’m not going to keep putting up with this you know.”

Something inside of him snapped and he raised his voice at you. He’s scolded you before on tiny things but this one was different. He seemed genuinely mad this time.

“Are you kidding me? Don’t put all the blame on me when you flirt with everyone you meet! Don’t act like you don’t do it on purpose! You rub it in my face and wonder why I get disinterested!”

You laughed at this. You don’t know why. Was it because you basically threw everything down the drain? Was it because you knew that what you’re going to say next will most likely change the way he viewed you? You didn’t care anymore. You felt as though this was past the point of no return.

“Did you ever wonder why I did those things to you? Did you ever look back at the context of my actions? It was whenever you acted like you barely knew me. After falling asleep on facetime, the next day you barely even looked at me in the halls whenever you were with your fatui friends.”

You looked down out of embarrassment. You thought it was embarrassing to admit you were like this. You hadn’t realize how deep your feelings were for Scaramouche.

“I fully understand why you did that now. How different you acted around our friends and switched up with those people. I would be friendly with other people to get your attention. It sounds stupid and corny saying it out loud but it was frustrating to deal with. Imagine spending so much time talking to a person and hanging out with them on some occasions with friends. Only to have them pretend you don’t mean anything to them because their other group of friends are assholes.”

It fell silent between you two. Scaramouche didn’t have anything to say. It was mostly out of complete shock at your sudden confession. You didn’t know what else to say because you felt annoying for even bringing this up to him. You didn’t want to seem like a clingy person for telling him all this.

You simply just chalked it up as a final confession before never seeing him again.

Is that really want you want?

You spoke up again, “It’s all in the past now so I’m no longer bothered by it. I guess my excuse now is how do I know you’re into me at all? Things aren’t the same as it was back then. There were some moments where I thought you might’ve felt something for me but it wasn’t enough confirmation. I’m being honest here when I say I had no intentions of ever ending up with Xiao. After the awards show I felt bad that you probably thought we had something going on. I was going to text you but news came out that you were spotted with someone.”

After those last words it became silent again. Another wave of embarrassment fell over you. Why were you telling him all this? You felt stupid for admitting this to him when you don’t even know what you are with him. It was like you were a crazy ex, only you two never actually dated.

Scaramouche took a step towards you. You didn’t step back. You just froze and continued looking at the ground.

“I’m not going to sit here and say you could’ve told me how you felt. It would be hypocritical of me because I know I’m not good at conveying my feelings either,” You heard him mutter.

You looked up at him.

“I guess I’m a bit sorry on how we turned out.”

“You guess? Either you’re sorry or you’re not,” You retorted. “Actually, don’t answer that.”

Your heart rate was increasing. Having a conversation like this with him made you anxious. You don’t know why.

Was it because he can be unpredictable?

“Go out with me.”

You gave him a perplexed look. What was he saying? Why now out of all times?

“What?”

You were so confused. You didn’t think he was being serious.

“If you think like that then go on a date with me.”

Oh, so he’s not being serious. He’s just pitying you.

“I don’t need your pity.”

He took a step closer to you.

“I’m not pitying you. I wanted to forget everything about you after high school,” Scaramouche crosses his arms. “It wasn’t easy. I started dating rumors so I wouldn’t feel bad about the rumors with you and Xiao. It was a shitty thing to do on both our ends.”

He wasn’t wrong. You knew how the media would be with whoever you hung out with. You didn’t care to deny the rumors either.

“I’m only telling you this now because I ended things with Haypasia.”

You raised an eyebrow. What is he blabbering about now?

“Don’t you think you’re being too hasty? It’s not going to look good to anyone if you stopped seeing her and then start going out with me right after. Your fans will defend you to the core but what about me? I’m going to get chewed up and labeled as a home wrecker. I also don’t know if I could do something like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, this is hard to deal with and I don’t want the press to make this even harder,” You sighed in exhaustion. “It’ll look better if I gave Xiao a chance don’t you think?”

“Stop bullshitting.”

You hesitated for a moment, “I’m being serious.”

You weren’t being completely honest. You frankly didn’t care how the media would perceive you because you knew your company would take care of it and it would die down in a few weeks. You were just scared. Scared of your feelings towards him and how he’ll deal with them. You didn’t know if he was going to crush you with them.

“Cut the crap. You hesitated before responding. You know you don’t want this. Stop lying to yourself for once.”

You didn’t respond. You only kept staring at his eyes.

His jaw clenched, “Do you think you can erase me like that?”

It sounded painful coming from him.

“I will. You’ve hurt me so much that it won’t take long to forget you. I’ve also hurt you so you should probably move on as well.”

You wanted to throw up after hearing those words come from your mouth. It isn’t what you want. It’s quite the opposite. You knew deep down this isn’t right.

The room was tense, the air thick with unresolved anger. Scaramouche’s eyes softened for a moment, but he quickly masked it with anger. “I don’t want to move on.”

You stood there, both your faces flushed with anger. Suddenly, the air shifted. His eyes flickered to your lips, and before you knew it, you were pulled towards him. Your lips crashed together in a heated kiss, all the pent-up frustration and emotion pouring out.

His hands gripped your waist tightly as he deepened the kiss. It was filled with all the anger, frustration, and unspoken words between the two of you. It was rough and demanding, a collision of emotions that had been held back for too long. Yet underneath it all, there was a desperate need, a plea for understanding and connection.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, becoming a dance for passion and fear.

When you two finally broke apart, you both were breathless. Only the heavy panting could be heard.

After realizing what had just transpired, you quickly took a step back. This felt wrong. You two ate each other’s faces after you told him you didn’t want to go out with him.

Scaramouche didn’t look at you, he turned his attention to the floor. Only muttering a simple “sorry” before turning around and leaving.

The door closed and you crouched down on the floor. You have no idea what just happened. You were left only confused. A flurry of emotions were deep inside you but you didn’t know how to react.

How were you supposed to react? Do you tell someone? What does this mean?

It gave you the biggest headache ever thinking about it.

Masterlist II Previous II Next

A/N: Chapter 26!! I told you it was going to have an absurd moment. Tbh this was my first time writing a kissing scene so sorry if it’s lowk corny 😭😭

ALSOOO lmk if you guys want your users to be added to this au and i’ll make you a twitter user :)

Synopsis: You’re a new idol that just debuted under ‘Fontaine Entertainment’ with your new single ‘Espresso.’ You just graduated high school which means all your classmates are shocked to see you into stardom. Including your old situationship, who happens to be an actor.

Taglist: @skyoverkill1 @quacking-simp @lolmeowing @astro-stars @kaitfae @sl-vega @scarawiki @yuminako @samyayaya @skyvella @kur0kki @practicoi @kukikoooo @scaraenthusiast1 @shutingstar @lloovvv @moonjellyfishie @miy-svz @xionri @lalalaloveallmydays @hearts4lizzzz @kathiwis @state-of-grac3 @morgyyyyyyy @scaradooche @theyluvkatt @meigalaxy @noirechomps @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @vxcmx @ariesloves @cayl33n @animeobsessed56 @heartsforni-ki @feikyuu @ichcocat @strayharmony943 @chscklvr @kunikissr @jiminscarmex @sp1ng @bananasquash @aceakariii @thegalaxyisunfolding @ariilies @hisfuture @automaticpatroltragedy @sartrst @cheriswag @kokomiskiss

[luneaticlab]

AMORE (Chapter 1)

Pairing - CEO!Jungkook x Secretary!reader (female)

synopsis- Never in a million years you thought you'd end up with your boss, in bed.

Word count- 1.4k

IMPORTANT NOTE - Hey guys, this my first fic. I promise I'll improve. love and feedback are always welcomed.

•I do not own any of the pictures•

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

----------------------------------------------------------

"come again?"

hesitantly, you repeated the words you said to your bestfriend a few seconds ago "The last time i got laid was 13 months ago..?"

"Girl, are you fucking serious?" Lena, your bestfriend not-so-aggresively threw her hands in the air.

"What's wrong with it? You know i'm not the type to have one night stands and shit" you justified defensively, delicately caressing your 5 month old persian cat, fluff.

"Dude you are in your twenties, you are hot, rich and single, what's wrong with having some fun before you settle down?" all you did was roll your eyes, ready to nag her about hygiene during sex.

"Don't tell me you still have a crush on your jackass boss" alice appeared from your kitchen, a cup of hot choco keeping her hands warm.

you were taken aback, yes, you did have a crush on your not-so-jackass boss, maybe you still do, no one knows, you are too busy with work to think about that. But something about him just makes your thighs clench.

His thick thighs which you would die to sit on, his tiddies who always threaten to come out(thanks to the buttons which do not let them), and his freaking jawline which you want to hold so bad when he kisses you.

Just to be clear the chances of this happening is 0.01% .

He's the typical rich, young, hot bachelor desired by multiple women and owned by none. Somehow you always managed to keep a very professional relationship with him so far. But what's life without some thrill?

"Jeon jeongguk? go ahead , have sex with him then. A rich man is a rich man" Lena suggests as if she's telling you to pick out some roses from the neighbour's garden.

"sure, find me a now job by tomorrow then" Lena chuckles at your reponse.

"Girl, its not that hard, he's a man and he might have needs too, if you really want him on the top then maybe wear some sexy clothes at work, you guys see each other everyday"

"Yeah yeah i'll think about it" you shrugged off the topic, not wanting to discuss it further.

:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。

"fuck!" You finally found your release , turned the vibrator off, took a shower, slouched on your bed releasing a lazy sigh

Yes ,the vibrator did wonders when you got it for the first time, but you've become too used to it, you knew you needed more and by more you meant jungkook's dic-

you pushed your sinful thoughts out of the way and forced yourself to sleep.

:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:

next day , 7.39 a.m

You got out of the shower, fresh and clean. Done with the skincare and your usual makeup (nude lips are mandatory!) .you were about to pick your grey sweatshirt, Lena's words resonating in your ears.

Fuck it, it's now or never.

you put the sweatshirt right where it belonged. Took out a white tube top which covered half of your tits, wore a black trouser matching with the blazer of the same colour of the trouser. A black nano belt bag from celine completing your look. Quickly wearing your jimmy choo high heels, you stepped out of your apartment, you felt confident.

You were aware of the stares you were getting at the office, you weren't surprised, not your fault you look good with a minimum effort.

You spot your coworker Diana at the cafeteria, she waves at you , her look telling you that she's got something for you

"Hey y/n, I've completed the list of the guests we are going to invite at the company's gala, Do you mind passing it to Mr.Jeon? I got some last minute work to do." She asked holding your hand

Bingo

"Sure, why not , I was about to give him his espresso anyway." you smile at her politely before taking the file.

Quickly making your way upstairs, you fic your hair before you knock his door.

'"Come in"

"Good morning Mister Jeon, the list for the guests for our company's gala dinner has been finalized." You said as you placed his espresso and the file on his table.

He looked up to see you, "Alright, thank you y/n, I hope you didn't forget we have to go to daegu today."

You caught him stealing a glance at your chest.

"Ofcourse sir" you smiled curtly before leaving his office, swaying your hips on purpose while doing so.

Jeongguk and you had to go to Daegu today for the monthly inspection of the company's factory there.

Being Jeongguk's secretary was undeniably challenging, but the salary was enough motivation to continue doing your job.

・。゜・。・o゜・。゜・。・o゜・。゜・。・o゜

3.39 p.m

"Mister Jeon, we are ready to leave." You said as you peeked out your head from the door into his office.

He nodded while fixing his blue Ralph Lauren coat as he walked past you , you followed him behind, making sure everything is on the right place.

You looked at him from behind, good Lord he was so damn hot then you looked at yourself. You guys would make such a power couple in your opinion.

"Did you have lunch sir?" You asked knowing he might not have eaten given the fact that he absorbs himself too much in his work once he starts.

"I didn't have time to"

"I figured, I ordered chipotle for you, will you be okay with a burrito bowl ?" Jungkook liked having light meals on work days and he gets carsick easily so chipotle was the best option.

"Yes, thank you y/n i appreciate it." He said gratefully, flashing you a small smile which you could write a whole thesis on.

----------------------------------------------------------

You were driving the car and the ride was smooth, you guys talked about work related stuff. Until,

"How have you been lately, y/n?" Jeongguk asked out of nowhere.you glanced at him for a second before replying "I've been good, pretty much the same since 2 years. working on weekdays, staying at home on the weekends. Oh, and I've got a new roommate – a furry one. Adopted a cat a few months back. It's nice having someone waiting for me at home, you know?"

You have no idea why you are giving a detailed explanation instead of the typical 'I'm doing good' but it is what it is.

"Any special someone in the picture?" He asked, a hint of uncertainty laced in his voice.

You glance at him again in surprise before refocusing on the road, this guy is really picking his moments. "No special someone right now sir, how about you?" He started this.

He chuckled a little,"Not at the moment, not into relationships anyway."

well damn, at least it was worth the try.

You catch jungkook looking at you a lot of times during the ride.

"We have reached, sir." You both get out of the car and head towards the factory.

----------------------------------------------------------

7:51 p.m, Daegu.

It was pouring cats and dogs.

"I think we should book a hotel and stay there for the night". Jungkook suggested while looking up. All of the workers were leaving and driving in this crazy rain is dangerous.

"But i don't have any spare clothes."

"Should we buy them on the way?" Jungkook asked finally looking at you.

"I think we should."

----------------------------------------------------------

You guys found the nearest hotel, and went to your respective rooms.Jungkook chose a package of 1 night+ dinner because you guys didn't eat anything after lunch.

"Let us change then meet at the dinner hall yeah?" Jungkook said looking at you, your clothes were a little drenched, the droplets on your half-exposed boobs were visible and he can see your bra underneath the white tube top.

"Sure , sir"

You guys literally shoved your faces in the food because the meal was ten out of ten and ya'll were hungry as hell.

When you entered the elevator, jungkook looked at you for a second before speaking " Good day today"

You smiled at him. Damn that smile, he couldn't control himself , he brought his face closer to yours, literally a gap of 2 centimeters between. "Can I kiss you?" He asked , it came like a whisper.

"Please" You practically whimpered.

Just like that, his lips were on yours.

To be continued

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

invisible string

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.1k

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: this is about to be super self indulgent but could you by any chance do a spencer reid x barista!reader maybe he keeps going back to the same cafe or something and memorizes like little facts about coffee or something lol i love your writing so much!!

Summary: Spencer keeps going back to the same coffee shop not because of the coffee but because of a certain someone that never fails to make him smile.

Square Filled: invisible string by taylor swift for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

“I need a double shot espresso and a strawberry refresher,” you call to your coworkers. You’re working the register when a tall man walks up to the counter. Man, he is super cute. “Hi, what can I get for you?”

“I don’t come here often but I hear you don’t take large cups? What are they called?”

“Venti?”

“Yeah, that,” he chuckles. “What do you recommend?”

“I personally love anything caramel. It gives me enough sugar to counteract the bitterness of the coffee.”

“I’ll do that, then.”

Man, he is clueless but he’s so cute. You’re not sure if this is a bit or if this is who he actually is but you like it.

“What kind of coffee do you want?”

“Hazelnut Americano with caramel drizzle.”

“You got it. Anything else?”

“No.”

“Name?”

“Spencer Reid.”

He pays for his coffee and you start making his order since there is no one else in line. You write his name on the cup and walk to the pickup section and call his name. The way he bounces over to the counter is kind of cute.

“Have a nice day, Spencer,” you grin and hand it to him.

“Thank you. You, too!”

The next day when Spencer comes in, he is more confident. He’s still nervous since he finds you attractive but he’s not going to let that stop him.

“Hey, I remember you. You ordered the hazelnut Americano yesterday,” you smile and greet him. You yawn and cover your mouth. “Sorry. It doesn’t matter how much coffee I drink, I am still tired.”

“Did you know that coffee was discovered by an Ethiopian goat herder?”

“I did not but it makes sense. He needed all that energy to round up all the goats. What’s your name again?”

“Spencer.”

“Yes, that was it. Sorry, I have a terrible memory.”

“I have an eidetic one.”

“What is that?”

“An eidetic memory is the ability to recall an image from memory with high precision—at least for a brief period—after seeing it only once and without using a mnemonic device. I have an IQ of 187 and can read twenty-thousand words a minute.”

“So, you’re really smart?”

“Yes,” he chuckles.

“Okay, come back tomorrow and I’ll have a fact for you.”

“Deal.”

There is a line forming behind him so Spencer quickly orders and leaves just as fast as he came. You have to wait an entire day to see him again and this time, you have a fact lined up for him.

“Hi, Spencer,” you smile. “I think I got a good fact for you today.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Did you know that ketchup was once sold as a medicine?”

“In the 1830s, it was believed that the condiment could cure almost anything, including indigestion, diarrhea, and even jaundice,” he nods.

“Alright, smarty-pants, I’ll have to try harder tomorrow.”

“I have one for you about coffee. Did you know that bees love the taste of coffee?”

“Is that why they always fly near me when I’m having my morning coffee in my sunroom?”

“It might be.”

Another line is forming so you grab his coffee order and move on with your life. The only thing you’re looking forward to now is Spencer when he comes in. He shows up the next morning at the same time he’s been showing up, and you find yourself smiling because of him.

“Spencer! The usual?”

“Actually, get me your favorite drink.”

“Are you sure? You’re not allergic to anything?”

“Nope.”

“Coming right up.” You ring him up and accept his cash. “I have another fact, and I think it’s a good one. Did you know the Vikings discovered America and not Christopher Columbus?”

“Yes, approximately five hundred years before Christopher Columbus, the Scandinavian explorer Thorvald, brother of Leif Erikson and son of Erik the Red, died in battle in modern-day Newfoundland.”

“Okay, you’re good.”

Spencer blushes at your small compliment. “My head is filled with facts that I can’t seem to forget like coffee beans are actually the seeds from the coffee plant’s berry-like fruits. The coffee plant is a shrub that grows in tropical climates in parts of Africa, Asia, South America and North America. It produces an edible berry-like fruit known as a coffee cherry, which typically contains two coffee beans. These beans are then processed and roasted to create the coffee we know and love.”

“I did not know that.” You really like talking to him but every time he comes in, there is a line forming behind him. You have to move on so you put in his order. You turn to your coworker who barely begins to make his order. “Can you take this? I want to make his cup.”

“Sure, smitten kitten,” she grins.

You grab the empty cup and make your favorite drink for Spencer. When you’re done, you write your number on the side of it in hopes he will use it.

“Spencer?” He walks up to the counter and you smile. “Here you go.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here.”

Spencer doesn’t notice your number until he gets to his car. He smiles which makes you smile because that is a good sign that he likes what you did. The next day, he comes in with someone. He hasn’t used your number yet but maybe he’s nervous. The man with the dark skin encourages Spencer to make a move on you, and he pushes him toward you.

“Hi, Spencer,” you smile.

“Hi. This is my friend and coworker, Derek Morgan.”

“Hi, Derek.” You turn to Spencer. “I got one for you. I really think I’ll get you this time. Did you know that in Ancient Egypt, the New Year celebration was called Wepet Renpet?”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Wait, really?” you gasp.

“Are you serious?” Derek asks Spencer at the same time as you.

“I’m sorry, yeah, I did.” You tip your head back and laugh. “While we celebrate New Year’s Day on January 1, the Ancient Egyptian tradition was different every year. Meaning ‘the opener of the year’, Wepet Renpet was a way to mark the annual flooding of the Nile River, which usually happened sometime in July. The Egyptians tracked Sirius, the brightest star in the sky, to time their festivities.”

“You know, one day, I’m gonna get you. I’m gonna know something you don’t.”

“I’ve been barking up that tree for years now,” Derek chuckles. You and Spencer look at him and he nods in understanding. “I’ll go wait over there.”

“What can I get you two?”

“Caramel Macchiato and a Hazelnut Americano.”

“Is that all?”

Spencer looks at Derek who nods in encouragement.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” he stutters.

He blushes as he talks which is super cute.

“I’d love to.”

“Great. I still have your number. I was nervous about using it but I will now.”

“Don’t wait too long,” you grin.

There is something pulling you and Spencer together, something of an invisible string.

x

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