#it's also in the way they hold each other?

[demigods-posts]

percy doing better than annabeth in college is one my favorite developments in the rrverse. if we reflect on percy and annabeth's academic upbringing. annabeth living at camp allowed her to receive accommodations for her adhd and dyslexia and surround herself with like-minded campers who had the same limitations. whereas percy was ridiculed, belittled, and routinely humiliated because of his adhd and dyslexia. even more so, percy's friends and family leave him out of the loop on so many important issue (no chb orientation film, no information about the great prophecy) which perpetuates his subpar confidence and self-esteem in his skills as a student and a demigod. but going to college at NRU changes his mindset because he receives the accommodations he should have gotten years ago and fucking thrives to the point of getting higher grades than annabeth — a person he deems way smarter and more prepared than him in every way. the most important thing percy is learning now is that a supportive environment makes all the difference, and he is more capable than he initially thought.

[reshinless]

Can you write kinich x reader smut

──── i w'na ride?!

𝜗𝜚 synopsis. whatever position he wants >_o

𝜗𝜚 pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader(?) see this however u want cuz in som of the bullets i use boobs or discreetly mention chests (kinich is also a lowk perv)

𝜗𝜚 director's notice. i'll explain why he'd like this trust me, !!nsfw content ahead!!

inspired by the moments where he kept hitting the pose where his hands behind his head plus the one scene where he sat in a tree with his hands behind his back (or maybe i'm imagining things.)

kinich who reluctantly visits the beach(es) plus hot springs in the toyac springs region because mualani says you both need it, seeing as how much you both work beside each other, you'll definitely need a nice bath! especially the rumors of the heated conditions the springs seem to excrete.

kinich who no matter how long you and him have met each other, he'll never get used to seeing you in a bathing suit. even when you both were still kids fooling around on the beach with mualani. the atmosphere back then has almost never changed, walking along the sandy coast, feeling each little particle fall over your toes, the sun roughly about to set, the scenery was a sight to behold!

now that you both were older.. he would be lying if he said he wasn't attracted to you, your way of fighting, your appearance, how well you compliment him, it was almost like a corrupt addiction. even ajaw mentions how cheesy it is each time he sees kinich looking at you, whether it be lust or love in his green eyes.

mualani was overjoyed to hear that you've never gone out to swim, especially in the temperature she's usually in. kinich decides to tag along, totally not because he definitely wouldn't mind seeing you in different swimsuits/trunks.

kinich who you didn't mind letting him stay outside the changing room while you put on different suits while mualani actually help you choose (unlike someone who just kept ogling his eyes at you)

mualani who chose something that revealed more than appropriate portion of your skin (which was a lot, and imagine this similar to the one lumine wore!!), kinich who couldn't stop eyeing you up and down, ajaw teasing with digital sunglasses over his face; "y'know sunglasses help cover up what you're tryna look at!"

cue kinich smacking bro away again :pray:

you only got more attractive in his eyes. watching how you walk up to him, holding out a bottle of sunscreen to him, asking if he'd put some on your back before you'd go surfing on mualani's shark.

kinich didn't wanna admit but he was a little more than just turned on while spreading the lotion over your shoulders and back down to your back, his calloused hands feeling you up and down..

kinich who felt a little guilty but couldn't help but always slowly let his view dip down to your ass. shit he could already imagine what it'd look like without that last piece of clothing. too bad he can't rip it off you right here and now.

kinich who ran his hands around your chest, your sides, every curve that you wouldn't suspect him from.. he could already feel the tent in his pants rise.

kinich who couldn't resist looking at your pretty body through the blurriness of the water, almost forgetting to swim back up from being a little more than distracted. only coming back up after mualani mentions he's the winner of holding their breath underwater challenge.

a sigh of relief.. or maybe pleasure rather remembering yesterday on how close he got to be to you, palming his erection with hurriedness, thinking of how soft you felt under his fingers, only a thin layer of sunscreen that wouldn't make it weird between you both, kinich catches himself moan your name quietly in the changing room before he goes back out to you and mualani for day two of your summer break of 5 days in total.

sitting under the comfortable shade of an umbrella he brought, putting sunglasses on to rest for a bit before going in the water, or at least that is what it looks like. in all real reality, he was taking sneaky glances at you from less than appropriate angles, he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it.

kinich could barely hold himself back for the next 2 days, wherein you all toured around mualani's hometown (for the sixtieth time, but then again it never gets old seeing a different culture every now and then!)

on the last day of your adventures with mualani, she offers for you both to finally bask in the warmth of the hot springs! the natural wonder of her home! kinich was reluctant at first, but agreed seeing how you were just oh-so happy to oblige.

this time, mualani got you a different swimsuit, one muuuuuchhh more revealing this time. it's clear now that she knows kinich's little crush on you, and now she knew that you liked him back.

mualani who coincidentally forgot the milk, and silly snacks she baked earlier that morning, oh would you look at the time! i guess she has to go get them... kinich who lowkey panicks, he already is a little flustered from your new look (but manages to quickly cool himself down)

kinich who is gentle while letting you slowly dip your feet into the water, this wasn't his first time here but he knew it was yours, stepping into the water first while holding your palms softly.

you two finally both sit in the springs comfortably, right in front of him, talking about whatever you and mualani did while he sunbathed (under an umbrella). building sandcastles and such.

"ahhh... kinichhhh! you should've been there. i would've wanted you there at least, dunno about mualani-" it felt like almost immediately his trunks tightened.. maybe he got the wrong size?

oh but the sound of you verbally saying you needed him definitely is a huge turn on. well you didn't necessarily say 'need' but you definitely wanted him there, good enough.

kinich who already has you straddled on top of him, directly on his boner, fuck he could feel it already. his hands are already on your hips letting you grind over his erection, this felt better than he could've ever fantasized of!

kinich who lets you ride him, the water you both were already surrounded only made it sound all the more dirtier. it didn't help that the sly little smile on your face, all he could do was bury his face into an arm of his own, looking away from you.

kinich whose hands were in his hair, intertwining with every little strand, the flush on his face only worsened each time you bounced on it, he could barely make eye contact with you, not because he didn't want you.. ohh it was because he thinks if he did he'd come immediately!!

kinich who holds you close as his climax comes closer as well, holding you tight in his embrace, he could feel your warmth, your skin, your everything, all he could was quickly drift his calloused palms back down to your hips, making sure no drop of cum was waaaasssttteeedddd

you could see how good you made him feel, even with just a sneaky, yet lustful glance, yet plop plop plop is all you can hear echoing throughout the cave, your hands propped up on the wall as kinich pushed against your back, his grunts only getting louder, eager to please you. seeing how your eyebrows knotted

kinich who felt intoxicated as hell in your scent, almost breathless as his head fits into the empty slot right beside your collar, fire pooled down inside your abdomen as you slowly reached your peak, watching how beautifully your eyes rolled back, feeling warm semen shoot up in your stomach. holy shit were you a beauty to see.

the musky scent of sweat mixed with the warm water below you both, kinich could still feel you clench harshly on his cock, even after release, fixed & still processing what you both had just done.

kinich who brings you out the bath, wrapped in a towel, bridal style and all, before mualani can come back with the milk and snacks- "hey what is that white stuff mixed in the water- what did you two do?!"

kinich who holds your hand while you both stroll throughout the shops opened up at nighttime, the constellations in the sky connected like it was used to it, the fresh scent of grilled fish was clear in the air's aroma, filling everyone's noses, mualani couldn't just give all this fish just to you two anyway!

kinich who fully confessed his feelings to you, no sex no lust, just him wanting you to sense how much he's been longing for you, in hopes you'd reciprocate it. in which you did with open arms!

m: "aha! i knew it! you both finally told each other you like each other didn't you!!", k: "no need to shout.", y/n: "i suppose!"

mualani will stop teasing for now, and let you two be, just with each other as the stars reflect off the light you've shone into his life.

kinda cringe might delete :100:

[artytaeh]

as promised, here's a treat for my mattheo riddle girlies ‹3 i hope you like it and feels ?? canon ?? because i honestly think that this is sooo matt coded. anyways! tysm for all the love and support. 🌷

warnings : obvious explicit mentions of sexual content, meant for +18 readers; read at your own risk.

’⭑ 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 : 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌.﹙★﹚

﹙★﹚ in one word, mattheo riddle is messy. that's the way that mattheo loves the most: messy, passionate, nasty, almost impulsive. a mess of feelings and urges alone.

despite seeking for his own pleasure, mattheo prides himself as someone who can satisfy both himself and his partner.

WHEN EATING YOU OUT, mattheo doesn't hold back. incapable of sticking to something for a long moment, he's a mess— running his flat tongue between your lips, then kissing your nub with a loud wet sound; mattheo doesn't care at all if the lewd sound of his lips and mouth on you rival your own moans. he's here to ravish you, so take it without complains, yeah?

more often than not, mattheo is one to use both his fingers and mouth. languidly kissing your core, almost messily making out with your clit, mattheo stretches you out with his fingers, scissoring the tight walls before curling upwards— you swear that each time he does this, you can feel him smirking against your sensitive skin.

empty bedroom, broom closet, locker rooms aftee quidditch practice; mattheo riddle doesn't give a flying fuck.

he's loud and vocal, deal with it. what's there to be embarrassed about? let the whole school know how much mattheo loves to drop to his knees for his girl.

honorable mention that no one has the balls to make a clownery comment about it. mattheo sent assholes with broken noses to the infirmary wing for much less.

mattheo isn't one to spread your legs while eating you out. he wouldn't make your legs tired right in the beginning— the slytherin needs them strong, not sore, to keep up with the way he'll manhandle you afterwards.

besides, mattheo is insanely addicted to the feeling of your thighs clenching around his head, making him feel the warm and smooth skin of those inner thighs almost suffocate him, from his place between your legs.

non ironically jokes about that being the most heavenly way to die. mentioned it once during a conversation with his friends— about dying like this. with honor—, his smug expression deeply contrasting with your embarrassed one.

whenever possible, nevermind if he's having you sat on a desk, chair, or standing up against a wall with him on his knees for you— mattheo finds a way to have one hand pleasuring you, in sync with his eager tongue, and the other sneakily on your chest.

his fingers barely give attention to your nipples; he's so not sorry, but there's no way that mattheo can help himself— his hand cups your bare breast, yanking the bothersome bra downwards or pushing it upwards, anything to have his palm on that soft skin that drives him insane.

groaning, with his face buried in your middle, mattheo squeezes your chest with a greedy touch. damn right that all of you belongs to him.

﹙★﹚ : SOME KINKS OF HIS, might include:

⋆ spitting : mattheo has heard and ignored comments that refer to this as something disgusting; he can't help it— to him, this is so hot. definitely has a thing for spitting inside your mouth, whenever you're facing him, underneath his heavy body. would also spit on your core before being inside you, or eating you out. prefers to be the one giving, instead of receiving; even so, mattheo would find it hot if you did so on his cock, before giving him a handjob or using your mouth.

⋆ biting : all i say is, good luck. mattheo riddle can't properly put it into words, however, his love for bodies who look a bit more chubby, where his hands can grab and squeeze, are also enthralling to him because there's a lot of room to bite. thighs? he'll spend a long time there, even if mattheo doesn't have the intention to take it further— he just likes the feeling of your skin inside his mouth, biting into it! neck too, which can be a nuisance sometimes; you never know if mattheo is burying his face on the crook of your neck because he's sleepy or in the mood of creating more bruises there. hard bites. like, the ones that hurt like a bruise after a few days.

⋆ choking : this man loves to have a hand around your neck, as if it is a collar that dictates his ownership over you. his hand there, fingers curling around the skin of your neck that he positively filled with bruises, so easily cups your jaw, keeping your face on his direction, facing him. this same hand is the one that is quick to slap your face a couple of times, hitting your cheek with his fingertips— enough to make it sting for brief seconds, not really bruising your face.

well, the same can't be said about your hips, thighs and ass. mattheo doesn't hold back there.

⋆ anal : would do his best to convince, or at least tempt you into trying it once with you. even so, should you not feel comfortable with it, mattheo would happily hold on to what he can do instead— if your limit are plugs, and you accept to wear it sometimes, mattheo is already over the moon.

hungrily licks over it while using his fingers on you, his wet muscle feeling the skin of your rim and the cold metal of your plug, pressuring his fingers on it. would want to do it in positions that gives him a good vision of the plug inside you, thumbs brushing over the skin of your asscheeks and the toy deep inside your other hole. it drives him crazy.

however! if even plugs aren't something that you'd feel comfortable with or want to try, mattheo accepts that he wasn't able to make the idea tempting for you. and, like a good loser— which doesn't apply to quidditch— mattheo will be more than happy with what he can get. which means, leaving a mess of handprints, finger marks, vicious bites and hickeys on your asscheeks.

⋆ not a rope bunny : even though being tied up or doing so to his partner is something that some people view as, well, something to spice up a relationship— mattheo doesn't perceive it that way at all. even the thought of having you tied up isn't charming to him; if anything, mattheo might pin down your wrists with his hand for a moment, but that's as far as it goes, with restricting touches; because mattheo, too, loves the feeling of your hands on him.

and let me tell you: this man would hate being tied up. what do you mean he can't touch you? mattheo can promise to hold back from thrusting up or switching positions, to be in control— but please don't prevent him from touching you. mattheo would look at you so genuinely sad, that he can't cup your chest or feel the skin of your thighs, much less get your ass squeezed by his greedy, warm hands. :(

⋆ biggest victim of cockwarming : no, not even for a bet. mattheo wouldn't be able to resist the temptation. for starters, why would he entertain the idea of not moving at all? mattheo is all too starved and hungry for you to be still; he might hold on for a few moments just to satisfy your requests, but ultimately, his patience will run out and he'll show you how it's a hundred times better to do something about it.

⋆ ¹overstimulation : believe it or not, mattheo wouldn't purposefully overstimulate his partner. however, when intentional, only happens if mattheo wants to prove a point, usually fueld by jealousy— because whatever guy you were laughing with, couldn't possibly making you tremble and fall apart on his arms like this, right? and yet, mattheo might also be tempted to use this as a punishment for bratty behavior.

⋆ ²edging : rarely ever does this to his partner; mattheo enjoys bringing pleasure to you, not finding satisfaction on depriving you from an orgasm if he's got you so close, so high for his touch alone. rather than torturing you, mattheo finds more enjoyment on the sight of having you coming undone on his fingers, tongue, or cock. coaxes and encourages you to do so as well, having little to no care over clothes, sheets or surfaces getting wet.

HOWEVER, mattheo is one to dealy his own release. mattheo riddle is addicted to the feeling of pleasure given by you; your hands, mouth, the feeling of slipping inside you— mattheo never wants it to end.

strategically finds ways to last longer with you, by switching positions, giving him a few seconds to calm down, if he feels like he's almost there. won't ever leave you unsatisfied; even if he finishes before you, and can't go on, then mattheo is more than happy to make you come in another way.

⋆ experimentalist : mattheo let's you do anything and everything to him— leaving little room to things that he would never be tempted to try out. is there something you want to try? perhaps a new kink in the list? he's all for it, like a puppy trailing right behind you.

so you want to use him like a toy? suit yourself; mattheo is already on the process of stripping out his clothes, moving to lay down on the bed. something more risky? his fingers intertwine with yours, that devilish mind of his already thinking about time, place, and what he'd love to do with you. unironically, mattheo riddle would even let you put a bow on it, if you so much as asked him to do it. there's practically nothing that he shies away from doing with you.

⋆ blood / knife play : listen. if mattheo's kinks were to be explain with an iceberg, this one would be on the bottom of it. mattheo knows how bad this sounds— that the sight of blood can spark some worse assumptions about him, that are already as bad as they can get. even worse if he explains how charming it sounds for him, how it gets him hot and bothered, the idea of carving his initials on that pretty smooth skin of yours.

m.r. two letters, ones that he traces in random trees around school, when he's feeling bored of his friends' conversation. m.r., easy to write, due to previous practice.

it's a terribly territorial, even possessive craving of his; mattheo riddle can't excuse that urge that resonates deeply within him. and if you indulge this fantasy of his, or ask to do the same to him? mattheo wouldn't live for the embarrassment of how hard that would instantly get him.

﹙★﹚: FAVORITE POSITIONS. .ᐟ

⋆ REVERSE COWGIRL is a favorite of his, specifically for the heavenly sight of you, watching you struggle as he relaxes against the mattress. enjoying the show, his eyes darken as he watches you struggle to bounce on his shaft— feeling, admiring each time that your ass harshly meets the skin of his groin, prominent with each movement of your hips. no doubts that mattheo will smack your ass if your rhythm falters even for a second.

⋆ PRONE BONE, as soon as mattheo gets you as comfortable as you can get. fixing a pillow under your hips to make it easier for the two of you— not only getting you to arch your back, presenting your rear to him, but also to improve your comfort before he takes it all on you.

⋆ AGAINST A WALL works all too well for mattheo, as someone who prides himself on his strength and muscles, having a build that allows those obvious lines marking his four pack abs.

( mattheo would die right there and then, if you ever used them. as in, giving up on using any pillows to rub and grind against him instead, letting mattheo feel how wet he gets you over his firm skin. would have the best smoke of his life as he watches you, murmuring praises and encouraging you to use him as a toy. )

(...) ⋆ not just in bed, but in general— mattheo riddle loves displaying how strong he is; how much weight he can take and strength he has. the first he showcases with you on his arms; the latter he wordlessly brags with each dislocated jaw that comes from his doing. so carrying you and lifting you off the floor is a favorite, almost instinctive, action for mattheo.

sometimes he's so into this, that he won't seek for a surface— not even a bloody desk, much less the comfort of a sofa or bed— pinning you against the wall. his hands lower down your body, feeling the curve of your waist, giving a greedy squeeze to your bottom, until his hands settle for the back of your thighs, easily hoisting you up from the floor. it's nothing for mattheo to have you in this position for a while— he's bloody thankful for it. his hands greedily squeeze the skin at hand, pressing himself between your legs, grinding your middle with his bulge.

⋆ not really a position itself, but mattheo goes INSANE for DRY HUMPING. this man loves nasty, messy sex; creaming his pants as you grind on his clothed bulge, feeling you getting wetter and wetter until your underwear becomes a mess on top of him— it gets mattheo every. single. time.

﹙★﹚: PREFERRED PLACES. .ᐟ

the privacy of a bedroom is one that mattheo can't ignore, or deny, given his previous experiences. doesn't really mind if the two of you do it in yours, or his dorm— however, mattheo has a slight preference for his dorm room, because he knows where to find what he needs, which drawer, which nightstand, reaching for it blindly.

HOWEVER, mattheo isn't one to pass an opportunity, and being one to indulge his desire and need over you, passing by as an exhibitionist isn't something that mattheo is scared to do.

⋆ locker rooms, specifically right after practice or a quidditch match. if mattheo had to choose a place, then he wouldn't need to think a lot about this one. as someone who has a lot of pent up energy, there's something about him being all sweaty from giving his all as slytherin's beater, then riding the adrenaline off on — in — you.

⋆ ... bonus points if it happens inside a shower stall, the two of you hidden by a single curtain, moans and groans muffled by the sound of water falling down your bodies.

⋆ empty classrooms, strategically used during key moments of day or nightime, when there's the reassurance that it won't be used anytime soon in the next couple of hours. mostly during meal time, given that even professors would be too busy on the other side of the castle. there's something about bending you over an abandoned desk or getting you sat up on the currently unused professor's desk, for mattheo— he can't exactly say if it's about the thrill of breaking unwritten rules, or the way it somehow challenges their authority.

⋆ broom closets, which mattheo would preferably only use for the sake of a make out, during those days that your routines don't seem to match, for some cruel reason. if he misses you too much, separated due to different classes, different schedules, mattheo will steal you for a few minutes to get much deserved kisses. aching for the feeling of his skin against his again. however, it rarely develops into sex— the most it might get to, is giving him a blowjob or mattheo using his fingers on you; otherwise, broom closets are too tiny, too uncomfortable for more.

which mattheo had to accept, after almost getting caught because in the middle of his enthusiasm, mattheo knocked off a few brooms on the floor.

﹙★﹚ MORE RANDOM HEADCANONS :

if you asked him whether mattheo prefers ass or boobs, he'd say that HE CHOOSES BOTH. now, if you pressured him into choosing just one— mattheo seriously takes long minutes to decide. full on blank stare into nothingness, barely blinking as his mind uses all of his concentration to do the mathematics of which part of your body he prefers. after long minutes of indecision, chooses your ass, almost mourning it, as if mattheo would wake up to never stare at your chest again.

THE TYPE OF SLAP YOUR ASS AT ANY GIVEN CHANCE. mattheo riddle loses his life, but never a joke. mattheo riddle might be yelled at by you, but won't miss the opportunity to indulge that guilty pleasure of landing a smack on your ass.

TALKS YOU THROUGH IT. doesn't shut up for the life of him; vocal, because he wants you to know how good you make him feel, and would love it if you do the same.

would learn HOW TO BE GENTLE now that he's dating, given that mattheo loses himself to the intense feelings of craving and desiring you. you blink, and suddenly mattheo is carrying you to the bed, about to remove your shirt and already on his third hickey.

SO INTO THE IDEA OF BEING SLAPPED. initially, mattheo thinks that he'd be fucking pissed if a girl dared to lay a hand on him — he can sent bigger assholes flying through the astronomy tower, who the hell are you to hit him, chipmunk? — but then. then he gets a slap from you.

dark eyes become wide, staring at a spot on the floor as his face barely moves to the side, feeling the tingle of a slight pain on his cheek. mattheo looks back to you; instead of yelling at you or being pissed at what you did—

he's horny. seriously, mattheo might find reasons to make you angry at him, so that he can marvel at how hot you look while you're furious at him, craving another slap like a bloody giggling teenager.

RARELY ACTS SUBMISSIVE, yet would let you take control if you wanted to be the one leading this time. however, mattheo has the hardest time to keep his hands to himself, or be the one to set the pace.

⋆ wouldn't tell a soul, but he jerks off the most at the memory of that time you rode him, and while bouncing on his cock, your hand hit his cheek, giving him a slap for trying to hurry the pace. you could swear you saw his pupils dilate.

doesn't mind for QUICKIES, AND HONESTLY LIKES THEM ALL THE SAME. there's something about being hidden by your skirt, and pulling your panties to the side, only to know that he's probably dripping right to that soft fabric, preventing it from lewdly trailing down your thighs. call him a pervert— mattheo is just a man with some territorial issues.

and that's probably why MATTHEO THINKS THAT IT'S SO ATTRACTIVE to still have some clothes on. he's obsessed for the sight of your body, at any given chance, and yet— ripping most of the buttons from your shirt, clothes are pushed and pulled up, down or to the side. your bra is tugged upwards so that his mouth can tease the now bare chest, fingers already on their way to lift your skirt and pull your underwear to the side. mattheo craves the sight of you so desperate for him, the same way that he's desperate for you too, both not wanting to wait any moment longer.

A WHORE FOR TOUCHES ON HIS HAIR AND SCALP. mattheo didn't care much for his hair before, until the curly shape of his dark hair became pretty to his eyes, and wanted to take the chance of such genetics to make himself look handsome. with that said, mattheo riddle wants to leave your bed with a mess of a hair— from tugging, pulling, pushing, having your fingers running through it, or massages, rubs on his scalp. having your nails scratching (not painfully. have mercy?!) on his scalp makes this man whimper.

speaking of things that make mattheo riddle whimper: KISS OR LICK OVER THE SCARS ON HIS CHEST, and you'll see how much of a mess he'll be under your lips. the skin there is so sensible, not to mention how intimate it feels, to have his previous injuries being the center of your attention, pampered and kissed so gently.

GOES INSANE IF YOU TRACE his v-lines with your tongue. literally has to grip something to hold back.

﹙★﹚ ANGRY SEX, is something that once in a while, mattheo would like to have with his partner.

mattheo is amused at the sight of his partner angry at something, whenever it doesn't root from a confrontation with mattheo that got him annoyed as well.

the argument would escalate until he's almost yelling at your face— the moment your noses almost brush together, so close, with anger radiating from both of you— mattheo loses it and shuts you up with a kiss, putting an end to the argument. after this first heated kiss, mattheo pulls away, staring into your eyes for any hint that you are too angry to kiss him, or if you don't want him to touch you / continue what you were doing.

it's hard to insist on keeping up the argument given that between yelling at each other for another ten minutes, or having him roughly thrusting into that spot that makes you see stars— well, usually, you choose the latter.

becomes missionary if the argument continues, nevermind how the pleasure makes his mind dazed with foggy thoughts. it's doggy with his hand on the back of your head, pushing your face to bury on the mattress or the comfort of a pillow, whenever mattheo can't deal with your attitude, or has had enough of the argument. doggy it is, when it's to shut you up.

even if the argument still gnaws an ugly feeling inside yours or his mind, mattheo will pull you closer to him anyways, head over his heart, fingers running through your hair. a silent way to reassure you, and mostly himself, that it'll be okay, and a fight isn't what's going to separate the two of you.

it's a terrible terrible idea to tease mattheo by keeping your underwear on. oh, so you think it's funny to grind on him with those panties of yours? that's so funny, that mattheo will rip them too. during those days that he's too dizzy with need for you, you can anticipate grief over the underwear you're wearing. and mattheo is not apologetic at all— he keeps all of these conquered prizes on the last drawer of his desk. throwing those panties away? no, no. mattheo has a better use for them.

should anyone ever touch them or find out his dirty secret, mattheo might just be tempted to break someone's fingers. what? those are his and your panties! comunism! only between the two of you!

this man has no money left for cigarettes; mattheo will be begging theodore to share them with him, because guess what! he does have to pay for property damages.

which means, giving you money for each damaged underwear from his impatient, greedy hands. sometimes, going out to hogsmeade involves shopping for more underwear— this, while mattheo is just outside the store, smoking a cigarette as he waits for you.

he'd tell his friends that it's because he wouldn't be caught inside a lingerie store. the truth is that you have forbidden mattheo from entering one with you— this man is a tall child. a tall, menacing child.

panties would be flying, his hands would cup bras and say in a way too loud tone that: 'babe! these are your size! trust my hands, i know how your pretty tits feel like.'

worse than that, mattheo would try to speed up the process. such a thing means that he'd have a pair of panties hanging on his index finger —imagine the tiniest piece of cloth, in the most vibrant, awful tone possible— as he yells: 'princess, what about these?' with the stupidest smile because mattheo thinks that he's really funny.

so, yeah. no shopping together for underwear and lingeries. mattheo is on timeout from those.

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Burgeon

Logan Howlett x Reader Sex Pollen

Summary: Reader works in the science lab at the mutant academy. Trying to grow a new plant from a mutated seed they had found. When the bloom puffs a cloud into her and Logan’s face they both begin feeling strange.

CW: oral m!receiving, oral f!receiving, biting, p in v, creampie

a/n: sorry this took so long to write I was depressed :D also surprise its today

~~~

You rested your head on your hands as you watched the plant in front of you slowly yet rapidly bloom a gorgeous, wine red bud. The way the flower held itself closed mesmerized you. How small bumps decorated the stem and the leaves along it were a dark purple color.

Logan, a.k.a. The Wolverine stood next to you. Piddling with one of the enclosed flora that was under surveillance. Not all that interested in the details of your work, but enjoying spending time with you. Especially when the big blue fur ball was not around to distract you. Dusk was approaching as it shined through the greenhouse windows. A beautiful color painted the sky as the darkness of the night approached.

“Oh, Logan! Look the bud is about to bloom!” You wrapped your arm around his pulling him over to you. He groaned as you pulled him over to you. You watched closely as the petals fought each other to release. Taking their sweet time to reveal the beauty within.

“Sure is taking its time,” Logan huffed, eyes fixated on you now. Loving how happy you looked awaiting the new flowers arrival.

The petals dispersed. Revealing the most beautiful black center of the flower. A large cloud of purple dust coming out with it. Before you could say anything, you and Logan both inhaled the fumes. Covering your mouth and coughing aggressively as the pollen stuck to the inside of your mouth. You wide eyed the plant, shocked at what came out of it.

“What the hell— that thing isn’t poisonous is it?!”

“I… I don’t really know,” you meekly whispered.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I mean we found this thing, noticed it was displaying some irregular behavior for a seedling of its type. And we decided to monitor it. I didn’t know it was going to cough up smoke at us!”

Logan stamped his foot. Frustrated by the lack of caring on your part. Pacing in a small circle next to you with the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“Okay! We just have to stay here for the next 48 hours. Keep us under supervision just in case we feel any side effects. We go about our days like normal, just can’t leave the Academy,” you rubbed your hand up and down your arm. Logan irritably took a seat, head down with his hands folded over his lap. You grabbed the pod and placed it in a holding chamber all of its own. Walking over and kneeling down in front of Logan.

“I’m sorry. If I had known—“ you reached your hand out to rest it on Logan’s leg.

“You don’t have to be sorry. We can forget all about it at the party tonight. Celebrating whatever the hell Charles was on about,” Logan grinned at you.

You smiled, “I’ll celebrate anything if it means free drinks.”

Logan left the greenhouse while you finished up cleaning and double checking everything. A sudden hot flash washed over your body. Pulling a sweat from every inch of you. You fanned your hand in front of your face, your clothes feeling oddly tight suddenly. Maybe someone turned the heat up in the greenhouse. You walked over to check the thermostat. Nothing about the number had changed. As long as it was reading right you were comfortable leaving it be.

Walking up to your room. Heat engulfed you, a minor ache on your body now approaching. Choosing to ignore the problem entirely. Changing into something more comfortable for the evening ahead. Looking at yourself in the mirror when a sudden, promiscuous image flashed in your mind.

Logan.

Behind you. Both of you completely nude as he pounded into you. Watching yourself take him in the mirror. His hands splayed out on your chest, lips on your neck.

Your face flushed with your arousal. Unable to fight the feeling forming deep down inside you. Aching at your core. Leaning over your bed as you writhed.

The feeling of his hands grabbing your hips. Buried completely inside you. Your back arching to meet his thrusts. Head thrown back in pure ecstasy.

You gasped at the thought. Unsure of what was happening to you. Uncontrollably desire was taking over your body. Your hand found your aching core in an attempt to cool yourself down. Scrunching up your face at the feeling. It felt good, but not right. It was not what you needed. You needed him.

Your face was completely flushed with thoughts of Logan. Trying your hardest to make it less noticeable before going downstairs.

“Just stop,” you told yourself.

Heading down to the common area where all your fellow teachers had gathered. An adults only party, all the students were off away. You smiled as you greeted your fellow mutants. Getting stopped by Hank. His warm smile and soft eyes pulling your attention to him.

“Hi, Hank,” you smiled as you walked over to him.

“Hello, beautiful,” Hank grinned, fangs decorating his bright white smile. You thought about how his teeth would feel against your neck. Blushing at the idea of the large monster on top of you. Your thoughts suddenly morphing to fit Logan into your fantasy. Fangs nipping at your skin as strong hands held yours above your head. Panting as he thrusted into you. Sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Everything going good with that mysterious plant of yours?” Hank questioned, breaking your fantasy.

“Uh— Yeah, kinda. It bloomed today but some purple pollen came out it. Not sure if that’ll have any effect on me,” you droned off as you saw Logan enter the room. Completely fixated on him now. Seeing his bulging muscles revealed by his tank top. His broad shoulders and strong brow bone indicating he was some form of frustrated. His eyes finally caught yours. Awkwardly you turned back to focus on Hank as you continued on about the beauty of the mysterious flower. Unable to keep Logan in your peripheral. Excusing yourself from the conversation. Walking into a corner so you could scan the entire room. Unable to spot Logan anywhere.

Muscular arms wrapped around your waist. Almost calming the burn trickling down your nervous system. Nose finding its place in the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale. Your hands meeting those around you, feeling the veins popping out. Smell of musk and cologne overwhelming your senses.

A silent feeling that he understood exactly what you were going through.

“Smells so good,” his gruff, low voice rang in your ear. Your head leaning back against his shoulder, eyes straining to look at him. Black eyes stared at you. Pulling you flush against him, his semi-hard cock pressed into you. Chills ran up you. Rolling your hips to grind against him. A low groan, almost a growl, vibrated against your ear.

Hands inched down closer to the place you ached most. Fingers grazing the sweet spot causing you to arch backwards slightly. Circling your mound as his eyes scanned the room.

“Everyone is in here,” you whispered, a soft moan on your tone.

“I know,” he grumbled, kissing below your ear.

Both of you silently enjoyed the feeling of your bodies pressed together for a moment. How perfectly your body melted to his front. How the smell of him sent goosebumps down your body. The sound of his breathing in your ear pooling inside you.

“Saw you over there with furrball. He not tickling your fancy tonight?” Logan’s fingers dug into your skin, a hint of jealousy on his tone.

“No,” you simply said.

“Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” Logan groaned into your ear, “I could smell you from my fucking room. Need to rip these clothes off and get inside you right now.”

You choked on air. Realizing Logan was having the same feelings you were. Unsatisfiable desire.

“Didn’t matter how fucking good my hand felt, wasn’t right. It wasn’t you,” he purred. His fingers danced along the line of your pants, daring to dip under your clothes. Feeling your pantyline against his fingers, the softness of the lace continuing his desire. Your hand met his, intertwining fingers with him. Looking over your shoulder to meet his gaze. Lust blown eyes stared into yours. He plotted an escape route to make sure none of your coworkers watched you slip away together. Grabbing your hand and dragging you behind him.

His touch tingled against your skin. Your sensitive body being thrown into overdrive as you headed down the hallway together. Pulling you into a stairwell and turning to face you. His entire face was red, sweat beaming down his brow. You blushed. Eyes locked together, blown pupils matching each other.

“Dunno if I can wait much longer,” Logan growled as he palmed at himself through his jeans. You fell to your knees instinctively. Tugging at his belt, pulling a deep sigh from him. Releasing his fully erect cock from its confides. It sprung up, tip swollen and leaking. A thick vein wrapped around the underside. You felt your pussy clench around nothing, your mouth salivating at the sight of him. Doed eyes stared up at him, your hand grasping around his member. Lips pressing against the tip in a kiss. Logan moaned at your touch. His fingers tangled in your hair as he guided you down on him. Choking around his girth.

“That’s it,” Logan praised as he lead you up and down on his cock. Hollowing out your cheeks to take him all the way. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, fighting off your urge to gag. Feeling him twitch in your mouth, knowing it would not take long for you to get him there.

Logan’s eyes squinted shut as he finished in your mouth. A grunt as he held you in place. “It’s not enough,” he moaned. Eyebrows knitted together as he looked down at you. Reaching a hand down to help you up, “I need to be inside you.”

His words melted into your core. Igniting a primal feeling in you. You wrapped your hand around Logan’s leading him up the stairs.

“My room’s closer,” you answered the question you knew he was silently asking himself. A grin painted his face as he watched your ass bounce going up the stairs.

Hurriedly typing your code to access your room. Logan’s fingers rubbed circles on your core through your clothes. You arched your back into him, feeling his still completely erect dick. “‘M gonna fuck you so good, doll,” Logan purred in your ear pulling at the button on your pants. You bit your lip finally getting the door open. Logan practically shoved you inside.

Attaching his lips to yours immediately, hands cupping both sides of your face. His tongue penetrating your mouth as your teeth clinked together. You hooked your fingers under his tank top, pulling it over his head. His hairy, muscular chest was completely drenched in sweat. His lips attached onto your neck, tongue coming out to lick a stripe up your sensitive skin. “What’s going on with us?” Logan asked against your skin.

“I’dunno,” you moaned when his teeth grazed a spot you liked, “I just want you.” He smiled at your response.

Logan pushed you onto your back on the bed. Ripping your pants and panties off you. A gasp fell from you. “You’ve got plenty more,” he growled as he kneeled at the side of your bed. Pulling you so that he was directly in front of your core. Soaking the blanket underneath you as arousal took over every sense you had. Logan chuckled as he lapped at your core, “Tastes so good.” You arched your back off the bed at the sudden contact. Pushing yourself closer into his mouth. Furrowing your brows because — GOD — he felt good, but it just was not enough to cool the fire inside you. Grinding yourself against his face trying your damndest to reach your high. Logan latched onto you like an animal devouring his last meal. Fingers digging into your thighs, bruising the soft skin there. Hooded eyes stared up at your face admiring how you scrunched up your nose and hung your mouth open. The soft moans and squeaks pouring from your mouth like music to his ears. He rolled his hips into the side of the mattress, desperate to fuck you. But more desperate to get you off first.

Your nails dug into the soft blanket below you. Riding his tongue through your orgasm. Body jolting and legs shaking. His name a scream on your lips. Logan pulled away, his face soaked in your juices. Dropping his pants to the floor. He stroked himself as he stared at your entrance. Your body still basking in the afterglow of orgasm. Logan pounced on top of you. Gently removing your top, lips finding their place on your exposed breasts. Biting through the fabric of your bra to play with your nipples. Licking and sucking the thin material. His hand pinched at the opposite one. Lips dancing up your neck, biting at your jaw.

Rolling his exposed cock into your soaked entrance. The first bit of relief you had felt all day. A shaky moan escaping you. Logan smirked above you, leaning his head back feeling how your body begged for him. Sliding his member through your slit, collecting all your wetness on him. “My pretty girl,” he praised, “I’m gonna fill you up to the goddamn hilt.”

Easing his way into you. Your walls practically pulling him in. Both of you moaned in harmony, throwing your heads back. “That’s more like it,” he cooed. Easy himself back before slamming back in. Setting himself at a brutal pace. The sound of skin smacking together filled the room. He panted above you, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

You leaned forward to catch him in a kiss, Logan’s body slouching so that your front were pressed firmly together. Curving his arms under you, holding you tight as he fucked into you. A huff of breath falling from him with each snap of hips. He held you close, lips pressed against your neck. An occasional kiss being planted there. “You take cock so well. I’m gonna fuck you stupid,” he growled against your skin.

You clawed at his back. Desperate to hold him closer. Scratching down his body, pulling a moan from him. His pace was growing sloppy as he approached his own high. Your pussy still sensitive from your own. Walls clenching when he’d hit deep inside you. “Gonna be so full of me aren’t you? Little cum slut,” Logan grunted with each of his thrusts.

Logan attached his lips back to yours desperately panting and moaning as he felt himself about to finish. Sheathing himself fully inside you as he shot his seed. The feeling of him soothed the burn you had been feeling. Relieved by how perfectly he filled you up. You felt him grin against your skin, slumping all his body weight into you momentarily.

“Could stay like this all night,” he whispered in your ear. You petted his back, kissing him on the cheek.

“Yeah?”

“That way I can already be inside you when I feel like I gotta soothe the feeling again,” Logan playfully bit at your cheek.

~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! I know this fic has been a long time coming so I hope it was a great read! I plan on writing quite a lot for the month of October, so if you have any requests send them my way! My next Logan fic is gonna be a Werewolf!AU //

{tags}

@toogaytofunctiondangit ~ @goodness-gracious13 ~ @figsnpassionfruits ~ @gretavankleep37 ~ @shinysam29 ~ @sunnyfranc ~ @savy-luvs-dilfs ~ @ayamenimthiriel ~ @megangovier ~ @its-in-the-woods ~ @father-of-2cats ~ @atthediscowithoutpanic ~

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Hii! If it’s okay, totally okay if not!

Can I please request a TFAWS!Bucky x fem!reader where she is his next door neighbor and they first meet when she’s moving into the apartment complex, and struggling to carry in all of her stuff. Bucky, ever the sweet gentleman he is, offers to help her move in and carries her stuff.🥹 And they spend a lot of time together in her apartment that day getting to know each other. After that they’re best friends (who obviously have a growing love for each other) and often spend time with each other in both his apartment and her apartment. Bucky even starts taking her to his lunches with Yori (who definitely catches on and points out the feeling between the two of them hehe) and eventually introduces her to Sam (who also can see the pair love each other). Many situations bring the two of them closer together, like one day when Bucky saves her from a group of men who followed her home from work, and also another time when Y/n (who now has an extra key to Bucky’s apartment, and he has one to hers) hears Bucky having a nightmare and she goes into his apartment, crawls into his arms, and lays down with him on the floor of his apartment to calm him down🥺 Anyways, they’re both idiots in love and finally confess their love each other after so long of being just “best friends”🥺

Hi! Thank you for the sweet request. This is an amazing, cute, adorable and just lovely request. The way both of them find their way to one another and it just so cute. The end isn’t the best I guess but yeah. I’m sorry it took me so long to write it but I finally finished it! I hope you like and enjoy it.

More than everything | B.B

Your new neighbour helps you to move in but soon he is way more than just your neighbour. Your best friend, the one you can talk about everything, he knows every secret, except one.

Pairing -> Neighbour!BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Neighbour!BestFriend!Fem!Reader

Wordcount -> 7.371 Words

Warnings -> fluff, lots of fluff, idiots in love, some weird guys, nightmares, love confession

Authors Note -> I want to thank @thevillainswhore for proofreading! Thank you so much, my love! I love you!❤️ All and every mistakes are my own.

Events -> Seasonal Delights Bingo: Types of love | G4 | being calmed down by a familiar person's presence | @seasonaldelightsbingo | Fandom Free Bingo: Book Night Edition | B4 | Baby Just Say Yes | @fandom-free-bingo | Fandom Free Bingo: Frosty Edition | G2 | Wiping away tears | @fandom-free-bingo | Build-A-Bucky Bingo | June | Meddling Best Friend | @buckybarnesevents

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Sweat runs down your face as you lift one of the heavy boxes out of your car. You haven’t even started to move your stuff into your new apartment, yet you feel like you’ve carried an elephant around. The sun is shining a lot today, heating the air and there’s not much of a cool breeze that could help you to cool down.

With a groan, your fingers clutch onto the box tighter. You feel the slow movement of it slipping from your grasp, so you try to squeeze it so it won’t fall down. You’re not sure what’s in the box, but it’s heavy and you can’t have all of your stuff laying around in the ground in front of your apartment.

“Need help?” A rough voice startles you. Spinning on your heel, you turn to face the person who stands there and your mouth drops open while your eyes widen.

The man who stands there with a soft smile tugging at his beautiful plump lips has short brown hair and wears a hoodie and gloves. You secretly wonder if it’s not too warm underneath all those layers of fabric. He reaches out to place his big hands underneath the box you carry and lifts it up like it weighs nothing. You notice the muscles working underneath his hoodie when he holds the carton.

“H-Hi! U-uhm, I would love to accept the offer but I don’t want to interrupt you from whatever you were doing,” you mumble, face palming yourself when the words leave your lips. He wouldn’t offer you his help if he was busy. Instead of judging you he just chuckles, his ocean blue eyes sparkle and his nose scrunches ever so slightly.

“Of course, doll! I’m Bucky, and you?” He asks, looking straight into your eyes and causing your knees to buckle. Bucky’s laugh, his voice — he is just so perfect. You’re not sure if he is just an imagination in your mind or if you’re hallucinating because of the heat and limited drinking.

Clearing his throat, Bucky pulls you out of your thoughts and gets your attention back. “I- I’m y/n. Nice to meet you, Bucky,” you say, smirking softly with heat creeping up your cheeks. You reach into your car once again to get another box out to carry.

“You can place it on top of this one, put two on top,” he says with a grin at you. You narrow your eyes, placing another box on the one he has already in his arms before reaching in to grab another carton.

“It’s heavy to carry that much, Bucky,” you chuckle, but place the third box into his arms as well. With a grunt, he almost falls forward, scaring you before standing straight again. He starts laughing softly, winking at you as you grab a box for yourself to carry into your apartment.

“I once lifted a whole engine for a friend, so your boxes aren’t that heavy compared to a ship engine,” Bucky says. You shake your head, smirking before making your way to the front door and into the apartment complex. “Which floor?”

“Second.” Bucky nods, grinning. As you walk up the stairs and along the floor the two of you walk closer and closer to his apartment, and his smirk grows with every step closer to your apartment.

While you think you embrassed yourself in front of this handsome and sweet man with your stutter and dropped jaw earlier, he only thinks it makes you adorable. There wasn’t someone in a while who looked at him with such softness in their expression — someone who doesn’t seem to know who he was, who gives him the chance to get to know him as the person he is now.

“Oh!” Bucky says when you stop in front of your door to fish the keys out of your pocket. You turn around, tilting your head as he chuckles. “Hi, next door neighbor.”

You giggle. For a moment you’re sure he is making a joke, but he just nods toward the door next to yours and grins even wider. Your eyes widen as you look to the door, then back to him.

“I don’t want to interrupt that sweet little moment where you stare at me and my apartment door because you find out that I live next to you…. But these boxes are going to be too heavy for me to carry soon,” Bucky says and nods at the boxes he is still holding in his arms. You gasp, taking the keys and unlocking the door with an apologetic smile. “It was a joke, I don’t mind carrying those boxes for you all day.”

You roll your eyes playfully, letting Bucky walk into your apartment and follow behind. “You’re the best, thank you so much!” You say as you both place the boxes on the floor.

“Don’t thank me yet, we have a lot more to carry,” Bucky tells you, walking a step closer to you and placing his big hands on the small of your back, pushing you toward the door. Instead of flinching of his sudden touch, you giggle softly, liking the warmth of his soft touch.

The two of you carry all your stuff into your apartment and while Bucky looks like he hasn’t done anything all day, you feel your aching muscles. You sigh deeply when you finally are able to let yourself fall down on the couch.

“How can you still look so— so handsome, so good like you haven’t carried so many boxes and all,” you ask, eyes roaming over his tall body while he stands in front of you. Bucky chuckles, leaning back against the wall behind him. His tongue pokes out, gliding over his lips to wet them and cause them to glisten.

“How about I get some food for the two of us, there is that nice restaurant just a block away,” he suggests and you nod immediately. He pushes himself off the wall, turning around to make his way out of the apartment.

“Wait!” You shout, causing him to stop in his tracks and turn back to you. “Uhm- let me find my wallet.”

Bucky laughs, shaking his head and walking further to the door. “You don’t have to pay me for dinner, and also not for helping you to carry those boxes, so no ‘buts’ here.”

With a sigh, you chuckle and Bucky makes his way to get the food. He already likes you a lot, you’re a sweet and nice person, no judging. He’s sure you wonder why he wears a hoodie and gloves even though it’s hot, but he also appreciates that you haven’t asked him about it, so he doesn’t have to lie to you .

— —

After Bucky came back with the food the two of you sat there in your new apartment, talked and ate. The conversation flowed between the two of you and you feel like you’ve  known Bucky for so long already. He is a sweet and gentle man, taking care of you and making you laugh. Plus his voice and laugh is the most beautiful thing you have ever heard, you could listen to him all day and you would never be tired of it nor him.

The connection between you and Bucky gets stronger with every day. The two of you spend a lot of days in your or his apartment and he becomes your best friend. You know you can trust him, you can tell him everything and he knows it as well.

One night a few weeks ago, Bucky came over in just a t-shirt, asking you if he is allowed to sleep on your couch because he can’t stand the quietness in his apartment. You offered him to sleep in bed with you, knowing that he would never touch you unless you allow him to do so but he shook his head.

“I-I would just love to sleep on the couch, you know,” Bucky mumbled, scratching the back of his head while he looked at you with sleepy eyes. He looked tired, not just because he fell out of his bed, but also because he was suffering from nightmares again.

Your scent is always calming to him. It was his first thought as he was sitting on his makeshift bed for the night, sweat running down his body. Bucky would love to say yes to sleeping in a bed with you, but he knew that his nightmares can cause him to punch something next to him and he didn’t want to risk hurting you.

“Are you okay, Buck? Do you need anything, I can make you tea,” you offered, bushing your fingers softly over his stubble. But again, he smiled softly and shook his head. Your touch was so soft, so loving and he got lost for a moment until you nodded and placed a pillow and a blanket on the couch.

“You know… we can also build a blanket fort,” you suggested with a grin, but Bucky just chuckled and patted  the space next to him.

You sat down, turning to look at your best friend. He smiled, his fingers fidgeting in his lap as you place yours on his and hold his big hands in your smaller ones.

“We don’t have to, if it makes you uncomfortable,” you said, smiling as softly as possible while you stroked your thumb over the back of his hand.

“I-I would love to… but…” Bucky stuttered, his eyes were roaming over your face, trying to find anything that told him that you judge him. However, he could only find nothing but pure love, affection and understanding.

“I just… you remember what I told you about my arm and my past?” You nodded, narrowing your eyes. Bucky inhaled deeply, bringing one of your hands to his metal arm, letting you touch it. He always let you do it, since the day you told him that this arm is a part of him, it makes him special. But you also told him that his arm doesn’t tell who he is because even though he was the winter soldier and had a metal arm there too — it was a different one plus he was under the control of people who used him. But it wasn’t him.

With that he allowed you to touch his arm, it was even claiming for him because you weren’t afraid of him. You accepted and loved him, with the metal arm, with his story. It makes him feel like home.

“I dream about it, almost every night. But when I fell asleep the last time here, I didn't have nightmares. But-but I sometimes punch something so I don’t want to hurt you,” Bucky confessed. You couldn’t help the small quirk of your lips — he felt so comfortable that he doesn’t even have nightmares. But you also couldn’t help the glisten of your eyes; it was awful to know that those dreams made him struggle.

“I’m sorry to hear that. You can always sleep here if you want. And just for you to know… I can take care of myself so if you ever want to cuddle, just tell me, I’m sure I can take care of you and also that you won't hurt me,” you assured him, leaning closer to press a soft kiss on his cheek, causing him to blush softly. He nodded with a thankful smile, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing the back of it with a grin on his beautiful lips.

“Thank you, doll. Now go to sleep, I’m sure you’re tired. I don’t want to keep you awake just because I can’t sleep,” he smirked, letting go of you to let you go back to bed, but you stayed where you were and just let your eyes roam over his handsome face a while longer.

“You sure? I don’t mind staying up with you a while longer if it helps you,” you said but he nodded, assuring you that he is fine. “You can turn on the television if you need some background noises.”

With that, you got up and walked back into your bedroom. Bucky smiled softly, leaning back before getting comfortable and turning on the television. Your scent surrounded him and he fell asleep pretty quick, relishing the first good sleep he’d had in weeks.

That was a few weeks ago and even though Bucky loves sleeping at your apartment, sometimes he is out late and doesn’t want to wake you. Plus he wants to give you some privacy. You’re not dating anyone, but as much as he loves your company, he doesn’t want to scare you away.

With time, you become his everything. You’re the one who holds him when he thinks he falls — you’re the one, his one. And even though his feelings get stronger, he hasn’t told you yet. He’s too scared — maybe you don’t feel the same and he will destroy the friendship you both developed so perfectly.

Bucky knocks at your door. He is on his way to his dinner with Yori but he has to see you. He told the older man a lot about you, but he hasn’t introduced the two of you yet.

In one of Bucky’s hoodies — the one you picked out of his wardrobe when the two of you made a mess in the kitchen — you walk to the door and open it. Your face immediately lights up as you see your best friend, who's smiling softly at you.

“Doll! I’m just on my way to dinner with Yori, wanting to check after you—,”  his voice trails off, looking you up and down. His blue eyes light up as he notices the hoodie you’re wearing, and his nose scrunches with the slight curl of his lips. “Looking good in my clothes, sweetheart.”

You giggle, ducking your head to try and hide the warmth that coats your cheeks. You play with your fingers in front of you, then you look up to meet his intense blue eyes. They look so soft and there is nothing but love and affection in them when he looks at you.

“I’m fine, thank you, Buck. Just came home from work, going to make myself some dinner and then watch a movie, probably,” you say. Bucky narrows his eyes, tilting his head slightly and he looks just adorable like that. “Don’t worry, not gonna watch our series without you! Hope you enjoy dinner with Yori, tell him ‘Hey’ from me.”

Bucky nods, he doesn’t want to move, he would prefer to stare at you a while longer — maybe just forever. He knows the two of you are meeting the next day for your movie night, but he wants to be around you all the time. He inhales deeply, looking toward the kitchen — there is no smell of food, yet.

“W-would you like to join us?” Bucky stumbles over his words. “He would love to meet you, and I would love to have you around. But only if you want to of course!” He hopes that you agree and go out with him — even though it’s not a date, but for him it’s pretty close to one.

Your smile widens as you nod. “Sure! But I have to change clothes, pretty fast— at least my pants.” With that you’re walking into your bedroom to change. Your heart races and the butterflies in your stomach go wild — it’s just a dinner with Bucky and a friend of his. But at the same time it's dinner with Bucky, who is going to introduce you to one of his friends.

Within a few minutes, you made yourself ready for dinner and walked back to Bucky, who was waiting patiently waiting for you with a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“We should put some of my hoodies into your wardrobe so you can always wear them,” he mumbles, his eyes roaming up and down your body and taking every inch in. You look stunning — like always.

You don’t have to wear a dress. Bucky loves you in everything, sweethearts and t-shirts or pants and hoodie. For him you’re always stunning. He can’t take his eyes off you, when he sleeps at yours and you get up in the morning — hair messy and you’re all sleepy. You look like the cutest thing he has ever seen.

“Lets goooo!” You giggle, taking your phone and keys and walking out of your apartment. Bucky closes the door behind you, walking next to you along the floor and out of the building.

Bucky has told you a lot about Yori already, they go out for dinner once or twice a week. Always the same bar and always the same food and drinks but Bucky loves the company of the older man. Even if he has been asking him about you pretty often recently. But Bucky doesn’t mind, he can’t seem to stop talking about how beautiful and sweet you are anyway.

The two of you walk along the street, it’s just a short stroll. He asks you about your day, if you had something nice you could tell him, or if someone upset you during work. Your best friend listens to you the whole time, nodding or chuckling with you.

He always asks you about your day, making sure you had something that made you happy and to get rid of the things that upset you. And even if it ends up with him tickling you until you laugh to have something good to say about the day. As much as Bucky loves to hear and see that someone about the day makes you happy, he loves it more when it’s him who causes your happiness.

Bucky opens the door to the bar. His palms are sweaty and he inhales deeply before following you inside, pointing to the bar where an older man sits. He is obviously waiting for someone while talking to the waitress.

“There is Yori,” Bucky says, his voice sounding slightly broken and when you look at him you notice him shifting from one foot to the other. He smirks at you but it doesn’t reach his eyes — you know that expression.

Bucky often looks like that when people are around and he becomes nervous. Or when someone stares at him with a judgemental gaze, mostly when he is overwhelmed.

You stop in your tracks, turning toward him completely so you block his way toward the bar and take both of his hands in yours. “Buck?”

He hums, letting you know that he’s listening. His ocean blue eyes roam over your face, another attempt of a smile on his pretty lips but once again you notice that it’s not letting his eyes light up like his smile usually does.

“Can you breathe with me? Slowly to calm you down. I’ll hold your hands to help you— feel it?” You ask him, inhaling deeply together with him before slowly exhaling. Bucky nods to answer your question, his thumbs running over the back of your hands. He draws small circles, something that always helps him calm down, feeling your soft flesh underneath his rough fingers.

“S-sorry… just- I’m just a bit nervous. You’re my best friend and I told him so much about you already but he always looked at me with a smirk- that looks like he knows more about our relationship than I do.” Bucky smiles at you, removing one of his hands to wipe a strand of hair behind your ear, chuckling softly. “A-And I just can’t take my eyes off of you, doll. You look so pretty.”

“Thank you,” you giggle, holding Bucky’s hand tighter before you slowly walk to the bar where his friend is already sitting. The older man turns around, his eyes widen a bit, just like the grin on his face, as he notices the two of you. Bucky shifts, offering you the place next to the other man before he takes a seat next to you.

“You look just as pretty as Bucky always described you,” Yori says, causing your best friend to choke on his spit. His cheeks heat up and he scratches the back of his neck as you look at him.

“Told you… told you that I talked a lot about you,” Bucky confesses once again. The woman behind the bar walks toward you, a soft smile appearing on his lips. She silently asks the two men if they want to have the same as always. Both of them nod, Bucky doesn't even look at her, his eyes remain on you.

Then the woman turns to you, offering you a card but you shake your head. “The same as whatever Bucky likes, please.” Whatever it is he always orders, you know you will love it. The two of you have almost the same taste in everything and you know what Bucky loves to eat, so you know that he would never eat something that you wouldn’t like either.

The woman smiles nicely before she turns around and leaves the three of you alone. Yori grins at Bucky, wiggling his eyebrows and you have to admit that’s the funniest and cutest thing a older man like Yori could have done. You chuckle, turning to face Bucky, who could win an award against a tomato.

You place your hand on Bucky’s thigh, running your fingers softly over the firm muscle. “Bucky, do you need some fresh air?” You ask, slightly worried that his skin color could be because it’s too hot or the air too thick for him to breathe right now.

Bucky shakes his head. He places his hand on yours and caresses the back of it with his thumb while he looks into your eyes for a moment. “I’m fine, just- just nervous, you know?”

You nod, then you turn back to Yori, who watches the two of you intensely. His eyes are roaming down to Bucky’s thigh where both of your hands are. “So how long are the two of you dating?”

“We aren’t dating. We’re best friends,” you say, narrowing your eyes at the question. Yori’s smile never fades, his eyes glistening. He doesn’t believe the two of you — or maybe he does but then you both are idiots.

“You should ask her out, James,” the older man says and nods toward Bucky. Your best friend's eyes widen but he smiles softly, shaking his head.

It’s not like he doesn’t want to, but you’re just best friends. You’re everything for him, even though he is more than just in love with you, he is scared to ruin everything. Bucky would do everything for you, but he is still stuck in his past, he is over 100 years old — still looking like a mid 30 year old — but that doesn’t change that he is a broken mess.

“She deserves better than the broken man I am,” Bucky says with a soft laugh. He tries to cover the truth, the pain behind his words but you can see through it.

You would like to smack him for his statement. He may be broken and a mess, but he is still the most loving and sweetest gentleman you have ever met. He never judges you, no matter what it is you have his back, you have his love, you have Bucky. You would actually tell Bucky that you don’t want anyone but him but this would lead into a conversation with more confession — something you don’t want to have during a dinner with one of Bucky’s friends in public.

The night goes well, the three of you are laughing a lot. Yori points out often that the two of you have more than just a friendship, that you both have feelings for one another but you and Bucky play it off. You like Yori a lot, you understand why Bucky likes the older man, why he always eats lunch or dinner with him. After saying your goodbyes to Yori, Bucky and you walk back to your apartment complex. Bucky brings you to your apartment, kissing your cheek softly before he makes his way to his own apartment. Your night is filled with a lot of dreams with Bucky and even Bucky himself has a night — without nightmares — but filled with fluffy thoughts of you and him.

You spend almost your whole free time with your best friend, mostly watching movies or just talking about his or your day. You know everything about his missions with Sam and Bucky suggested that he could take you with him to meet Sam. But this plan changes when Bucky knocks at your door after another mission, his smile as bright as always and behind him another man.

You know that Bucky would come home today, you already made dinner for the two of you but you didn’t know he would bring a friend of his. “Hi, doll! I-I uhm… that’s Sam! He asked to sleep here before he flies to his family tomorrow.”

“Bucky!” You say excitedly as you pull him into a much needed hug. You look over his shoulder to see his friend smirking at the two of you. “Hi, Sam. Come in, Bucky has to give me at least five minutes of cuddles before I let go of him again!”

Both of the men laugh and Sam nods before he walks into your apartment. You let Bucky pick you up, you mean that you get at least five minutes of cuddles from Bucky, and he knows that you can be such a grumpy little thing if you don’t get them. He leads Sam into the kitchen, offering him a drink while he refuses to let you down.

“Does he cling to you like that all the time?” Sam asks jokingly. You turn your head to look at him, chuckling softly.

“Why? Isn’t he such a sweet teddy bear around you?” You ask and poke your fingers into Bucky’s cheeks, squeezing his cheeks softly. “He’s my favourite teddy bear!”

“The cyborg being a teddy?” Sam asks, earning a glare from your best friend. “He’s more like a cold, staring machine.”

Bucky growls into your neck, hiding his face while he inhales your scent deeply. He was away for two days but he missed you so much that he can’t let you down just yet. He doesn’t care that he’s carried you around for ten minutes already, he could do it all day and would never be tired of it.

“I made pizza, your favourite one,” you say and run your fingers through Bucky’s hair, making him sigh into your neck. “Sam, do you like cyborg pizza?”

Sam laughs while Bucky growls once again, but it turns into a chuckle almost immediately. You’re just so cute, he can’t help himself, he can’t stop himself smiling  and chuckling whenever you’re around.

“But I get to keep you on my lap,” he mumbles, letting you down for a moment to place the pizza on the table. Sam watches the two of you, smirking at Bucky. He has never seen his friend so soft and not grumpy around someone. But he likes this version of Bucky, the cute, sweet one, that looks so happy. It's like there is nothing that could make Bucky’s mood bad when you’re around, he smiles all the time, even his eyes are bright and shine in the most beautiful blue.

“I do like every pizza,” Sam nods, arranging the plates you placed in his hands on the table. He puts two of them on one side and one where he sits. Bucky grins at him, placing the pizza on the table before he picks you up and lets you sit on his lap.

Your best friend's arm is wrapped around your waist the whole time, you’re deep in talks with both of the men, getting to know Sam but also some secret and funny things about Bucky.

“And once… it was our first meeting, he landed on top of our car and he smashed the front glass and ripped out the steering wheel.,” Sam says before chewing further on the pizza. Bucky hides his face in the crook of your neck, chuckling softly.

“It wasn’t actually me. It was during the time of the winter soldier,” he mumbles. You run your fingers through his hair, calming him. You know that Bucky isn’t ashamed to talk to you about his past but you also know that he is still slightly tense when it comes to it. And your touch, your closeness and softness, is always calming for him.

“My sister and I are almost done with the boat, maybe Bucky wants to bring you to our little party then?” Sam asks, eying Bucky. “My little nephews and my sister would love you! They already love Bucky, and you’re way nicer than the cyborg.”

“Ey!” Bucky grumbles, gripping you tighter and pulling you more against him. You giggle, shoving a slice of pizza into his mouth. Bucky would love to bring you with him to the party, Sam is a good friend of his, and you’re his best friend, his everything. And even though the two of you aren’t dating, he doesn’t like the way Sam talks about you — that you’re nicer and probably sweeter and more beautiful. He isn’t wrong but Bucky doesn’t like to hear someone else saying such things about his babydoll.

“I would love to meet them, if Bucky wants to invite me,” you giggle. Bucky nods, smirking at you with a mouthful of pizza. He chews on it happily, holding you firmly pressed against his broad chest.

“Would love to,” Bucky smirks, swallowing the pizza before he opens his mouth to let you shove the next slice between his lips. You laugh softly, grasping another and shoving it into his mouth as well.

“So, Bucky said you’re not dating one another?” Sam asks, eyeing the two of you. A smug grin on his face, his eyebrows twitching in amusement. You shake your head, running your fingers through Bucky’s soft brown locks.

“No, he’s my best friend! Why does everyone think that?” You tilt your head softly, causing Bucky to almost choke on his pizza. You’re just so adorable and he can’t help himself but with a mouthful of pizza he can’t chuckle or laugh. “Buck! Don’t choke on your pizza! You need to chew before you swallow!”

Sam makes a lot more jokes about Bucky but in return Bucky embarrasses Sam just as much. The evening is filled with a lot of laughter and jokes. Bucky decides to sleep in your apartment on the couch, while Sam gets Bucky’s apartment — on the condition that he has to promise not to sneak around.

The man was more than just curious what Bucky was hiding in his apartment. Maybe a wedding ring already or maybe some really kinky sex toys? But to not destroy their trust and friendship he promises not to sneak around and he surprisingly managed to not do it.

You spend the weekend with Bucky, he asks you out for some ice cream and invites you also to another dinner with Yori. In the evenings you’re wrapped with Bucky into a blanket, snuggled up on the couch while you watch every kind of movie you can find or play some board games.

On Monday, you had to work again. Bucky told you he would make dinner and you can just come over after work. You know he is making your favourite food, he always does when he cooks for you.

You’re currently walking home from work, a few men following you, nothing too exciting because it’s a public street. But no matter where you walk, they follow you, their voices grow louder and you try to speed up. You can’t walk home, you can’t let them know where you live but they come so close.

“Girl, wait!” One of them shoots and laughs. You hear your blood rushing through your veins. The footsteps of the men behind you coming closer with every step and you feel the panic grow. You try to breathe slowly, try to calm yourself down but it doesn’t work. At least not as long as those guys walk behind you.

“I said wait, whore!” The man growls this time, his pace faster than before and he almost reaches you already. His hand is already reaching out and touching your shoulder. You prepare yourself to be thrown around, to be thrown against a wall or on the ground but it doesn’t come.

You walk further, slowing down the moment you feel a cold arm around your waist. The voices are quieter, almost silent. You inhale deeply, noticing Bucky’s scent and only now you dare to open your eyes further to look at your best friend, who presses you into his side. “Hi, babydoll.”

His voice is soft and shushing, you immediately relax in his warm embrace. Your eyes are locked with his — you’re happy he is there, that he helped you with those weird men who followed you.

“Hey! What are you doing here, Bucky?” You ask, leaning your head against his shoulder while he leads you through the street and toward your home.

“I had to go shopping, your favourite snacks were empty and I didn’t want my best girl to eat something she doesn’t like as much,” he chuckles and kisses your forehead softly. His lips are always so soft and warm, you could get lost in the feeling of them against your warm skin.

“You’re the best,” you giggle. Bucky nods proudly. He opens the door for you, leading you into the hallway before you make your way up to his apartment. Bucky prepared dinner already, he just wanted to get your favourite snacks before you were home, and saving his best girl from some weirdos wasn’t a plan, but he did it anyway.

“I know. Now, get yourself a seat, it’s your turn to decide on a movie first and dinner will be on the plates in just a moment,” Bucky says before he kisses your forehead once again. You take a seat on his couch, making it already comfortable and look for a movie. You can smell the food already, your tummy rumbling and you are already excited to get a taste of this delicious food your best friend made.

You almost confessed your love to him after the dinner, the food was so good and Bucky was so close, his lips so plump and soft you wanted to kiss him so bad. But you couldn’t just kiss your best friend, not before you told him about your feelings, not before you knew about his feelings.

You excused yourself and rushed into the bathroom, you needed a moment to breathe, he was just so soft and warm. Your feelings for your best friend went crazy and cuddling with him didn’t do a good job at calming all your running thoughts.

Even though his lips were really tempting, you didn’t kiss him, his presence made you all dizzy and comfortable — just like always — but you two watched the movie and threw popcorn at one another.

A few hours later you went to your apartment and into your bed. That’s where you are now, your eyes closed but you’re still awake, you can’t stop the thoughts in your mind. Bucky is so present in your thoughts, you tried to hide your love — your feelings — for him but the closer you come to him the harder it gets.

You’re so in love with Bucky, just like he is in love with you. You even have the key to Bucky’s apartment, just like he has yours. So when you suddenly hear a loud cracking noise and a wrecked scream you immediately sit up in your bed.

You know that sound too well, Bucky never screamed that loud but you know the way his voice sounds — it’s him. And your heart clenches as you realize that he has a nightmare, again. He told you once that the only way he doesn’t have one is being close to you. You offered him that he could sleep in your apartment even in your bed with you, but he just smiled. He doesn’t want to be a burden, doesn’t want to take away the little privacy you have. Even though you would rather spend your nights with him next to you, you accepted his decision.

You get out of your bed, wearing one of Bucky’s t-shirts — you stole it — and get the keys to Bucky’s apartment before you run out of yours and open the door to his. You already notice the silhouette  of Bucky in the corner of the living room.

He always sits in a corner after a nightmare, his legs close to his chest and his arms wrapped around himself. The wall behind him doesn’t let anyone attack him from behind and from the spot he is sitting at he can see every entrance.

You slowly walk toward him, turning on just a small light to not scare him even more. “Bucky? Hey, it’s me. Can you hear me?” You ask and get on your knees. A bit of distance between the two of you.

Bucky’s blue eyes are widened and sweat is running down his forehead. He nods slightly, staring at you. His eyes drift through the room every now and then, making sure no one he doesn’t want to have in his apartment comes into it.

“Can I come closer?” He nods again, allowing you to get closer to him. Bucky whimpers, tears stream down his cheeks and you feel your heart clenching at this sight. “I got you, Buck. I’m here, you’re safe.”

You crawl closer to him, your hands reaching out to pull him toward you. Bucky’s head falls against your chest, his hands clawing around your back and he breaks down completely. You run your fingers up and down his muscular back, calming him down.

Bucky holds on to you like you would disappear if he dared to loosen his grip just a tiny bit. “Bucky… we are safe here. You’re safe. We are at home, it’s just you and me here. No one is going to hurt you. I will protect you, I love you so much.”

You don’t even notice that you just confessed your love to him, of course you told him you love him but not like that. The seriousness, the love which is visible in your eyes and for the first time since the two of you know one another Bucky looks at you with a shocked but relieved expression on his face. His eyes still widened from the nightmare but your confession gave him hope — hope that someone as precious and sweet as you could really love someone as broken and messed up like him.

He doesn’t say anything, his face is buried back in your chest after you meet his gaze for a few seconds. He wants to believe that you love him, he really wants but something inside of him tells him that he doesn’t deserve your love.

“I don’t deserve your love…I-i…” Bucky stumbles, he whimpers and pulls you even closer toward him. “I-I want you to love me… b-but I don’t deserve your love…”

“Bucky!” You say, gasping at his words. How can someone as sweet and lovely like him not believe to be able to be loved more than everything, that he deserves so much love? “Hey! Listen to me. You deserve so much love! You deserve all the love in the world. You even deserve the world, Bucky. And I don’t care how broken or messed up you are, I love you!”

Bucky looks up at you once again, his fingers digging into your back. He shakes his head, he wants you to love him, so bad, but he doesn’t want to destroy you. He doesn’t want to hurt you, to break you, to make you like he is. “N-no…”

“Yes, Bucky. You can’t stop me, you can’t make me love you less. No one can, no one will ever make me love you less. I pretended that I could be just your best friend but I can’t anymore. I love you, more than everything, I need you, and I want you to see that you deserve love, all the love!” You say, trying to sound serious but still soft while talking to him.

You’re not sure what came over you to confess all that, maybe because he broke down once you wrapped your arms around him? Maybe it was just the last push after the day and half the night laying awake or whatever it was — you don’t regret it, you could never regret telling the love of your life that you love him, that you care for him — that your best friend is everything for you.

“Doll… you can’t… you— I will break you… I will hurt you. You deserve better than me,” Bucky whimpers, he has you already sitting on his lap, refusing to let go of you.

“It doesn’t matter, even when there would be someone better, I wouldn’t like someone other than you. Please let me love you, let me show you that you deserve to be loved just like everyone,” you mumble, running your fingers through his brown locks.

Bucky nods, letting himself fall more against you, leaning into your touch. He closes his eyes, his heart filled with love and affection. He has waited so long to hear those words from you, and now — no matter how shitty this situation is — it makes his heart race and his feelings for you to grow.

“Can you sleep in my bed then?” He whimpers, looking up at you with teary eyes. You can’t help but chuckle at his cute request, then you nod. Bucky inhales deeply, his breath still shaking but everything worked out so well right now, he couldn’t ask for anything else.

Your love will heal him, he knows it because it has since you got to know one another. Since he helped you to move into your apartment. Bucky knows that he never felt for someone before like he feels for you, no matter how broken he is, he knows that it will never stop him from loving you more than everything.

“I love you too, more than everything,” he mumbles, leaning more into you. “You know… I will never let you go. I will hold you in my arms every night, I will make you dinner, I-i will… be the best version of me I can be.”

“You’re already the best version of yourself, Bucky. You’re the most precious man, the sweetest I have ever met,” you smile softly, cupping his cheeks to make him look up at you. His ocean blue eyes shining with adoration and love, no signs of fear to the nightmare anymore. “Can I kiss you?”

Bucky nods with a soft smile across his lips as he is leaning closer already. You giggle at his impatience. But it was just too long to try not to, so you can’t blame him, it was too long to hold back from kissing one another. With a soft smile, you place your lips on his. And they really are as soft and warm as they look. You sigh softly, letting Bucky pull you even closer and hold you as tight as possible against his broad chest. His lips move softly against yours and he relaxes in your warm embrace, with his lips finally touching yours.

He may think that he doesn’t deserve to be loved — but this kiss lets him forget about all the insecurities and worries he has. The only thought left in his mind right now is how much he loves you, how often he wants to kiss you, that he just wants to hold you and tell you how much he loves you — over and over again. That’s what he is going to do, show you his love for you and he will show you that you’re everything for him, just you, only you as long as you’re with him.

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[sluttywonwoo]

the roster | part one of three

pairing: christopher bahng + lee sangyeon + choi seuncheol x f!reader

summary: what happens when all the guys on your roster find out about each other?

warnings: see here (mdni!!!)

word count: 4.4k

series masterlist

You’d been set up. You should have known something was off when Sangyeon texted you to come over. He never texted you first. He was the most reserved of the three, always letting you be the one to reach out to him if you wanted to hook up. 

You shot him an accusatory glare but he pointedly avoided your gaze, choosing instead to stare at something on the ceiling that was apparently much more interesting.  

Seungcheol was the first to speak, of course. “Did you really think we wouldn’t find out?” 

You figured there was no point in lying. They already had you cornered. “Yeah, kind of.” The three of them scoffed in unison, making you hold up your hands in defense. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other like that!”

In fact, you had chosen each of them precisely because you thought there wouldn’t be any conflicts of interest. They were all in different groups, all the leaders of said groups which you thought would mean that they were almost always busy with their members. You didn’t think they had time for friends. Let alone friends who were of different ages and also leaders. 

Chris was the biggest gamble. You knew that he knows almost everyone in the industry and has a lot of friends but you didn’t think he knew the other two guys you were fucking well enough to put together that you were actually sleeping with all of them. 

Everything had been going so well. You had perfected your system over the months, using the boys’ schedules to your advantage so there was never any overlap. Seungcheol got weekends, Sangyeon got Wednesdays and Fridays, and Chris got 3ams on Tuesdays, Thursdays, (and sometimes Fridays if you weren’t sleeping over at Sangyeon’s) because that’s just when he was free. You keep your Mondays and the last full week of every month free so that you have time for yourself. Otherwise you’d drive yourself crazy spending all your time with men. 

You had never agreed to be exclusive with any of them. You made it more than clear that wasn’t what you were looking for. Still, they must have thought you weren’t seeing anyone else because all three of them had shown up to this confrontation and all three of them looked pissed. 

“Is it just the three of us?” Chris chimes in. 

“How much time do you think I have?” you mutter. 

“Just answer the question.”

You look away from them. “Yeah, there’s no one else.”

“Lucky us,” Seungcheol sneers. 

“Hey, you’re the one who said you wanted something casual,” you remind him, your tone icy. “You wanted to sleep around with no strings attached and I agreed.”

You’ve known Seungcheol the longest. You were friends first, through your job, but it quickly turned into something more. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other, spending nights and mornings together. Going to sleep and waking up and stealing kisses in elevators. Talking on the phone for hours and planning dates in the different cities he was touring in. 

He shut you down before you could get too delusional about it, though, stating plainly that all he wanted was a strict friends-with-benefits sort of situation. You still remember the feeling of your throat burning as you fought back tears, telling him that was perfectly fine, that you felt the same way. 

You couldn’t let yourself get too attached to a man who didn’t want you in the same way you wanted him so you looked for a distraction and found one in Lee Sangyeon. You met him through Jacob, a younger member of his group. Sangyeon was the perfect distraction. He was charming and funny, never one to take himself too seriously. He was a real gentleman and it didn’t hurt that he had a huge dick. 

You were the one to broach the topic of nonexclusivity with him this time, wanting to beat him to it. You knew exactly what all of these idols wanted. Choi Seungcheol had taught you that lesson early on. Sangyeon took it well, at least, as well as you expected him to. He told you he was on the same page as you, that he was just looking for something casual and you believed him. Now, looking at the expression on his face as he listens to the two other men talk, you’re not sure. 

And then Chris just sort of fell into your lap. You weren’t looking for anything else. Juggling two men was enough work. You just so happened to run into him at some after party, stopping him to compliment his music. One thing led to another and you were shoving your tongue down his throat in a dark closet. Apparently he had a thing for praise. 

Neither of you had to be the one to friend(swithbenefits)zone the other. You brought it up one night as you laid in his bed together and he was quick to agree. 

“Yeah, I don’t have time for anything more than... this, right now,” he sighed. He sounded a little regretful about it, like he thought he was being an asshole despite you voicing the same sentiment. 

So you hadn’t been doing anything wrong- even if your brain liked to tell you otherwise sometimes. You defined the (non)relationships with each of them, used protection with all of them, you weren’t leading anyone on... it had just so happened to get a little bit... messy, for lack of a better word. 

-

“No strings attached doesn’t mean I want you to fuck my friends!” Seungcheol huffs, running a hand through his hair. 

“I didn’t know you were friends with them!” you cry, throwing your head back onto the back of the couch in frustration and accidentally banging your head against the wall in the process. 

“Are you okay?” Sangyeon asks, wincing. 

The other two side-eye him. 

“I’m fine. But why am I here? Did you bring me here just to yell at me?”

“Not exactly,” Chris says, smirking. 

You look to the other men for an explanation but neither of them offer any further explanation. 

“Then why?”

Chris slides his hands in his front pockets and shrugs. “Well, if you’re up for it, the three of us thought we might have a little fun with you.”

“What does that mean?”

Seungcheol steps forward and mirrors Chan’s stance, cocking his head to the side for good measure. You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes, knowing it would only make things worse for you. 

To be fair, all the posturing would be a lot more annoying if they weren’t the hottest men you’d ever seen in your life. 

“I think you know what that means,” Cheol adds, supplying absolutely nothing helpful. 

“Obviously I don’t or I wouldn’t have asked,” you argue. 

Seungcheol whistles and then looks to his friends. “Is she this bratty with you guys?” Chris gives an ‘eh’ hand motion whilst Sangyeon nods outright. “Yeah, I figured.”

“Did you think you were getting special treatment?” you taunt, surprising even yourself. 

He scowls but doesn’t respond, probably in an effort to maintain some semblance of self-control in front of the other two. If it were just you and him, you’d have a hand around your throat already. And maybe that’s what you wanted. Maybe your mouth was working faster than your brain in order to get a specific... reaction out of them like you normally would. Or maybe your mouth just liked to get you in trouble. 

From the way they were acting, they obviously hadn’t lured you here just to hang out. It had to be some sort of sex thing, right? You certainly weren’t opposed, you just needed to figure out what game they were playing so that you could be dealt in. 

“We were curious about which one of us you like the most,” Chris says finally. At least someone was interested in getting to the fucking point. 

You blink at him then turn to look at Seungcheol who just nods in confirmation. “You want me to... rank you? Why?”

“You’re the one who has us on a little roster,” Sangyeon points out, sounding a little mean for the first time tonight. “Surely you’ve thought about it before.”

You shake your head. “I haven’t. I mean, I like all of you guys! I wouldn’t hang out with you if I didn’t.”

“We don’t care about hanging out, we want to know who you think is the best in bed,” Seungcheol clarifies. 

“What?”

“You know, who’s the best fuck?”

“Why do you even care?” you ask. “Like what are you getting out of this?”

“Just a little competition between friends,” Chris assures you with a wink. 

“I... wouldn’t even know where to start,” you insist. 

“We thought you might say that,” Seungcheol hums as he steps closer to you. “Which is why we thought we could test it in real time.”

“In real time?”

“Yeah, let us fuck you, then you tell us who’s best.”

“Right now?” 

Seungcheol shrugs. “You asked why we brought you here.”

“And you just assumed I’d be down?”

“Yeah,” all three of them say at the same time. 

It’s your turn to scoff. So that’s what they think of you. You shouldn’t have expected anything different, to be fair. It wasn’t like you were a saint. You literally had your dick appointments with all of them penciled into your Google Calendar every week. 

“C’mon, baby, we know you by now,” Chris adds, plopping down on the sofa next to you. He stretches his arm across the back of it like guys like to do, opening himself up for you to lean into him if you wanted to. “Are you saying you don’t want us to take turns fucking your brains out?”

You stay silent. 

“Should we take that as a yes?” Sangyeon asks. 

“I’d say so,” Chris agrees.

Seungcheol claps his hands together decisively and then points to the man sitting next to you. “Chan, you’re up first then, yeah? That’s how you do it in your group, right? Youngest first?”

He’s mocking him but Chris doesn’t acknowledge it. If there’s one thing you know about Bang Chan, it’s that he’s not one to back down from a challenge, and while going first in this sort of competition must be daunting he doesn’t look the least bit shaken. 

“Are we doing this here?” he asks the older two. 

Sangyeon considers it and shrugs. “We should probably move to the bed, right?” 

“Dude, it’s your house.”

“There’s more room on the bed,” Sangyeon decides, offering you his hand. 

You take it and he helps you up from the couch. You step in front of the boys and lead them to Sangyeon’s bedroom, calling “it’s this way,” over your shoulder just to be a menace. You can’t see the faces they make behind you but you hear Sangyeon chuckle under his breath. 

You flick on one of his table lamps and make yourself comfortable on the bed, patting the spot next to you for Chris to join you. He does and puts a hand on your thigh, squeezing your thigh comfortingly. Seungcheol and Sangyeon lean against the dresser across from the bed in the most non-awkward way they can manage. 

Somehow, they both still look intimidating despite the fact that they’re essentially about to be cucked by one of their closest friends. 

“What now?” you ask. 

Chris brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek and leans in. “Now, we do this.”

He kisses you gently at first. Whether it’s to ease your nerves or his own, you aren’t sure, but he starts slow, building up to what you’re used to. His thumb strokes your cheek as if to reassure you as he deepens the kiss and slips his tongue into your mouth. His other hand that had been resting on your hip fumbles with your pants. 

“Just pretend they aren’t there,” he whispers. 

It’s impossible to do when you can feel the weight of their stares on you but you try to relax anyway, reminding yourself that something like this has been a fantasy of yours for a while now. You never thought it would actually happen and you definitely didn’t think it would be with them but with your luck you honestly shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. 

“This isn’t going to work if you don’t relax,” Chris continues, low enough for only you to hear. “I kind of have something to prove here.”

“You don’t have anything to prove,” you assure him. “You’re great in bed.”

“They don’t know that,” he hisses. 

“Sorry, sorry, I forgot this is just a competition to you guys,” you grumble. 

He chuckles. “What, you want me to make love to you in front of them? Because I will.”

“I think that’d be even more embarrassing, somehow.” 

“Exactly, now lay down and let me fuck you brainless so you can’t overthink anymore.”

He had such a way with words, that Bang Chan did. 

He shifts so you can lay down and take your pants off. Your shirt goes next, leaving you in just your underwear. It’s the most exposed you’ve ever felt even though you’ve been completely naked in front of all three men before. 

Chris snaps the elastic waistband of your cotton panties against your hip and smirks. “Cute.”

You pout, ready to defend your granny panties but Sangyeon pipes up from the other side of the room before you can.

“She doesn’t care what she wears over to mine because she knows it won’t stay on long anyway.”

That was actually true. You dressed the most comfortably to hang out with Sangyeon because you knew he wouldn’t care. It wasn’t like Chris or Seungcheol cared more, and you didn’t really dress up for them either, but there was a notable difference between the amount of effort you put in for each man, something you hadn’t noticed until just now. 

“She wet yet?” Seungcheol asks, sounding bored. 

You know it’s just a front so his jealousy and impatience won’t shine through because it’s not a very good one. Seungcheol is not and never has been good at hiding his feelings. 

Chris shoots him a look. “I was getting to that.” 

Seungcheol holds his hands up in defense but thankfully keeps his mouth shut. 

Chris sucks in a breath of patience and brings his hand in between your legs, fingers tracing your slit. Your cheeks grow warm with embarrassment because you are, in fact, wet. You have been since they sat you down and stood in front of you like you were going to be scolded for doing something wrong. 

“Yeah, she’s fucking wet,” Chris rasps. “Jesus Christ, baby. I bet your joggers are ruined too.”

His teasing makes you try to close your thighs around his hand but his reflexes beat yours and he catches your knee to force your legs back open. 

“Nice try.”

“You’re the worst.”

His fingers start to wander beneath the fabric of your panties, feather light touches that already have you gasping for breath. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do, I really do.”

“Want me to stop?” he threatens.

“What happened to having something to prove?” you mutter back. 

“Always such a fucking brat,” he muses, jaw tight. 

“Don’t act like you don’t love that about me.”

“You’re consistent, I’ll give you that.”

Chris leans down and kisses you again, presumably to get you to stop talking. It works, of course. He lets his tongue explore your mouth while his hands explore your body, still not giving you what you really want. 

Eventually, he slips a finger inside, taking you by surprise and making you gasp as you grab at him for something to squeeze. He offers you his arm and you take it, fingernails digging into his bicep. 

“It’s just one finger, baby,” Chris coos. 

“Feels.... good, though,” you squeak. 

He adds another right as you start to get used to the feeling of the first and you have to take a deep breath to keep yourself from making another embarrassing noise. 

“Don’t hold back. Let the boys know how good I’m making you feel.”

Seungcheol scoffs, tonguing his cheek. “You don’t have to fake it for him, babe.” 

“Are you sure you guys are friends?” you pant. 

They don’t answer, leaving you to draw the conclusions yourself. You’re sure they were friends... whether they would be after this was another story. 

Chris crooks his fingers up, knowing you won’t be able to stay quiet once he does. He’s right. You moan, albeit quietly, and arch into his touch. 

“So what are the parameters of this competition?” Chris asks the other two and turns his head towards them while he continues to work his fingers in and out of you. 

“What do you mean?” Sangyeon asks back. 

“Like, does foreplay count? Or is she judging solely based on our stroke game?”

Seungcheol considers it for a moment before looking to Sangyeon. “What do you think?”

“I think the judgment should include foreplay,” he says. “Foreplay is part of sex after all.”

“Good point,” Chris agrees. “Any other rules?” They shake their heads. “What about you, baby? Do you have any rules for us?”

You purse your lips as you think, trying not to lose focus with his fingers inside of you. “Just don’t go too hard. I do have to work on Monday.”

It’s only Friday night now, but knowing them, you’ll probably be sore for at least a couple of days afterward. 

Chris laughs. “We’ll do our best. Right, guys?”

They mumble what sounds like an agreement and Sangyeon even gives you a thumbs-up. 

“Can I keep going?” Chris asks you. 

“You didn’t really stop,” you point out.

He had still been fingering you lazily throughout the whole aside. It wasn’t enough to get you off but it was certainly distracting. You had to try very hard to concentrate on what they were saying. 

“C’mon, this is nothing,” he teases, bringing his thumb to your clit as he starts to kiss your neck. “How’s that?” he murmurs into your ear, 

“G-good...”

“Just good? Must be doing something wrong, then.”

Before you can deny it, he adds a third finger, earning a loud cry from you this time. You feel him grin against your throat, hiding his smug satisfaction from the other two. 

“Spread your legs wider for me, baby. Let them see.”

You do as you’re told even though it’s hard. It’s so much. You want to squeeze them around his hand again but you know you’ll only get told off if you do. 

“Good girl,” he praises, making you whimper. 

“That’s all it takes, doesn’t it?” Seungcheol mutters. “We just have to call you a good girl and you’re making a mess all over us, right?”

You squirm, arousal and embarrassment pooling in your belly. You can tell Chris wants to give Cheol shit for butting in when it’s supposed to be his turn, but he doesn’t because his words are technically helping him. You get even wetter around his fingers, a detail Chris elects not to share with the room. 

You’re sure they can see it, though, or at least hear it. The sounds are obscene. 

It’s mortifying. You want to die. But first you want to cum. 

Two of your favorite things about Chris are his hands. They’re huge, especially for a guy his height, and absolutely gorgeous. Thick veins run across the backs of them from his knuckles up through his forearms- he’s a nurse’s wet dream, and yours. You’ve spent an absurd amount of time tracing them with your own fingers when you’re laying in bed together after hooking up and more often than not, it’s enough to make you want to go again. 

He’s good with them too because of course he is. Bang Chan is annoyingly good at everything he does, including but not limited to: making you cum. 

“Already?” Chris muses under his breath. “Does having an audience turn you on that much?”

“Sh-shut up.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to someone who can take their fingers away any time they want to.”

“No, please!” you protest.

“That’s what I thought. Do you want to cum on my fingers? Or should I make you wait for it?” He’s talking to himself at this point but you answer anyway. 

“I-I don’t know...”

“Probably should let you, huh? You’re still so tight.”

You don’t get another word out before it hits you, your body curling in on Chan’s hand as he finger fucks you through your first orgasm of the night. As soon as you come down, he’s taking his fingers out of you and sucking them into his mouth, kissing you right after so you can taste yourself on his lips. 

“Good job, baby,” he murmurs into your mouth as he adds his tongue back into the mix. “Ready for me now?”

“Mhm...”

“Condoms are in the nightstand,” Sangyeon says, nodding in the direction of the bedside table. 

Chris reaches over and pulls the drawer out, whistling at the other things he finds rolling around in the compartment. 

“This hers?” he asks, holding up a vibrator.

“Who else’s would it be?” Sangyeon mutters. 

“I don’t know what you do in your free time, man.”

He drops the toy back in its place and grabs a condom from the box tucked in the corner of the same drawer. The odds of one size fitting three different men were slim, but having slept with each of them you’re sure they’ll be able to make it work. 

Chris hands you the foil packet, allowing you to do the honors of tearing it open with your teeth while he works on getting naked. 

Seungcheol whistles jeeringly at Chan as he takes his cock out and pumps it a couple of times. You can see the back of Chan’s neck flush red but he remains steady as he rolls the latex on. You realize it must be difficult for him to have an audience too, though he has nothing to be self conscious about. Even if they aren’t showing it, you know the other two have to be impressed.

He’s the perfect balance of long and thick and just like his hands, defined veins run up the length of his shaft. You’ve spent what feels like hours tracing those veins with your tongue, watching him shiver under your touch. Most dicks aren’t pretty but Christopher Bahng’s certainly is.

“Ready?” Chris asks, rubbing your thigh with his palm.  

“Yeah,” you breathe.

Since he already made you cum, he’s able to slip in without much resistance- but he’s big enough that the stretch is still intense, making your eyes roll back in pleasure as you stifle a whimper. 

He gives you a moment to adjust once he’s fully inside you, teasing only a little bit with slight movements of his hips. 

“God, that feels good,” you moan.

“I know, baby,” he murmurs sweetly, “you’re taking it so well for me.”

He brushes a couple of strands of hair out of your eyes so that you can see him properly. Obstructed view or not, he’s beautiful on top of you. His own bangs have already started to stick to his forehead and the pink flush of embarrassment has somewhat faded and turned into that of exertion, spreading from the back of his neck to his chest and face and matching the kiss-bitten swell of his lips. The muscles in his arms and shoulders are engaged with the effort it takes to hold himself above you, making him look even bigger. 

His eyes are soft, even as the rest of his features take on a more sinister expression. That was one of the things that made sex with Chris so good. He genuinely cares for you, not just as a lover, but as a person. Lots of guys put effort into making the other party feel good during sex but that doesn’t mean they care about them. It’s not like that with Chris. 

“Want it faster?” he asks you. You nod. “Ask nicely.”

You should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. 

“Please...”

He frees one of his hands and uses it to stroke your cheek. “‘Please,’ what?”

“Faster,” you squeak. 

“Is that the best you can do?” Seungcheol scoffs from the sidelines. 

“I’ll let her off easy this time,” Chris responds. “She can hardly think straight as it is, isn’t that right?”

Another nod. 

You get what you want and Chan picks up the pace, snapping his hips into yours in quick, shallow thrusts. 

“You’re getting tighter again,” he grunts, faltering imperceptibly. “You’re making this too easy for me.”

One of the other two makes what you assume is a snide remark but you don’t catch it because everything starts to fade into the background as you start to cum around Chan’s cock. It catches both of you off guard, you can tell. It isn’t unusual for you to finish from penetration alone but it usually takes a lot longer. 

“Holy shit, you’re so- fuck, you’re going to make me cum.”

He keeps going after you come down, chasing his own release. It’s almost enough to send you into a third orgasm but he cums before you can get there which is both a relief and a disappointment. 

You whine as the feeling ebbs and let yourself go boneless underneath him. He follows suit and collapses face first next to you on the mattress. 

“Sorry,” he whispers to you. “I would’ve kept going but I didn’t want you to be too sensitive for them.”

You nod in understanding and pat him appreciatively on the back. 

The room is quiet as the three men wait for you to catch your breath. Chris ensures you’re okay before rolling off the bed and joining the other two by the dresser. He mentions something about cleaning you up when you’re all done and offers to fetch you a glass of water. 

“There’s a Brita in the fridge,” Sangyeon tells him after also pointing him in the direction of the cabinet that holds the cups. 

He disappears into the hall and you gather what little strength you have to pop your head up and address the two remaining leaders at the foot of the bed. 

“Who’s next?”

this has been in the works for way too long lol but lmk what you think! i always appreciate feedback!!

tags: @minghaosimp @butterfliesinthenightsky @lelestarmy @stolasisyourparent @brownbunnyb @tinkerbell460 @cixrosie

add yourself to the taglist here

[thewolvesofthenorth]

Chapter One

Chapter One of Man of Honor

Series Masterlist ❖ Main Masterlist ❖ House Of The Dragon Masterlist

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 3k+ 

Summary: Things change, but not necessarily for the better.

Warnings: Angst angst angst, language, fluff, slow burn

⟸ Previous Chapter ❖ Next Chapter ⟹

Four years after Cregan had sworn his oath to you by the heart tree, she entered your lives.

Arra Norrey.

A noblewoman of House Norrey. She was everything you wanted to be. Brown hair that flowed down her back, honey brown eyes, and a beautiful smile that could capture any man’s attention. And catch their attention it did. Particularly the attention of one man.

Cregan.

That was when everything changed and life as you knew it was turned upside down.

At first it started out small. Cregan and Arra would go out on horseback and upon returning, Cregan would talk endlessly about how great of a rider she was and how he had not expected such skill from someone like her. He’d speak of her love for poetry and songs, mentioning that you should ask for her to sing sometime because her voice was so beautiful. He would bring up miniscule things like how she wasn’t the fondest of the cold, even though she lived in the North. How her needlework was impeccable. The list went on and on.

But then the comparisons started to happen. Cregan would say things about her and then mention how it reminded him of things you would do and how similar the two of you were. Other times, he would make comments stating how different you were from each other. He would offhandedly say things like “Arra sings all the time, why don’t you ever sing?” or “Arra said she learned how to make this delicious duck soup and offered to make it sometime. I’m sure she’d be more than happy to teach it to you.” You were sure that Cregan did not mean them in a malicious way, but those comments had begun to slowly chip away at your self-esteem.

You never sang around him because you hated the way your voice sounded and were always too nervous to sing for others. You knew how to cook, but you also knew how to hunt and survive in the desolate lands of the North. You knew how to skin a rabbit and take down a boar with one shot through its eye. You even knew how to wield a sword and do it while on horseback. You didn’t need some noblewoman from some noble house within the North to teach you anything. But even knowing all those things that you could do that Arra couldn’t, you still felt insignificant when compared to her. She had become the apple of Cregan’s eye, and nothing you did or could do, would be enough.

Over time the distance between the two of you grew and eventually you hardly spent any time at all, his time and energy spent towards Arra and their budding relationship. And then came the news that shattered your heart and solidified the future between the two of you. Cregan and Arra were betrothed. A meager year after she’d entered your lives, and they were now to be married in six moons.

You remembered that day as clearly as a crystal on a rare sunny day. Cregan had approached you with a wide grin on his face and said that he and Arra’s parents had spoken and decided to betroth the two and bring two great houses in the North closer together. He had sounded so elated at the news and told you that he was anxious and hoped he would make a good husband. You had reassuringly smiled at him and told him that he would make a fine husband and that Arra was lucky for such a match. On the outside you presented a cool and collected close friend, but inside your heart was crumbling.

Forgotten was the oath you’d both spoken to each other beneath the weirwood tree all those years ago.

Forgotten was the promise of a future together.

Forgotten was the childhood pledge he’d made to you about becoming the Lady of Winterfell and holding Cregan’s heart, that privilege was now Arra’s.

It was now a mere dream that would no longer come to fruition and your heart grew heavy at the revelation that you had lost your chance at happiness with him. That night was the first time you had cried yourself to sleep since the death of your parents, and Cregan was not there to comfort you like he had been so many times before.

As time went on, you began to distance yourself from Cregan more and more, your heart not being able to take seeing him and Arra constantly interacting. Every time Cregan approached you to go hunting or spend time in the godswood, you’d declined, saying you had other duties to tend to or had promised to spend time with Sara, and you both knew how Sara was.

At first, Cregan had thought nothing of it, believing your excuses, but as time went on, he noticed how you would avoid making eye contact with him, and how you’d somehow slip away when he would enter a room. He’d had enough of your avoidance and wanted to confront you, but you had a talent of becoming invisible and made it impossible find for him to find you. So, he resolved to do the next best thing: speak to Sara about your behavior. The two of you were always close, though not as close as you and Cregan had once been. That had changed since Arra had arrived.

Sara had become your confidante, listening to you talk about Cregan when he and Arra grew close, and had even been there to hear your confession of your feelings towards Cregan. She was the only person who’d known about your and Cregan’s words in the godswood that day and had kept silent when you spoke of your heartache over the broken promise. She listened intently, and as much as she wanted to give Cregan an earful for his obviousness for your feelings, not once had she betrayed your trust. However, after weeks of your avoidance, Cregan had gone to her, she did not hold back on chastising him.

That afternoon, Cregan had watched you abruptly end your conversation with his sister and stealthily disappear as he approached, something that had begun to irritate him. He had quickened his pace, hoping to somehow stop you, but it was no use, you’d once again slipped through his fingers.

He let out a small huff and Sara turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised at his demeanor.

“Care to tell me what you’re so worked up about, Cregan?” Sara asked, already knowing what the answer would be.

“I just - ugh - that damn woman,” he began, his voice laced with irritation. “She’s been avoiding me, and I have no idea why! But YOU clearly do.”

Sara hummed in thought before responding in a teasing tone.

“So, what if I do?”

“Tell me why. What have I done to illicit such treatment?” Cregan grumbled.

“You really don’t know?” She quipped back as she folded her arms across her chest.

“No! I wouldn’t be standing here asking for you to tell me if I knew, now, would I?” He retorted in annoyance, his patience beginning to wane.

“Wow,” Sara said as she shook her head. “You really are as thick as the hide on a cow, aren’t you?”

“I don’t have time for your petty insults,” Cregan snapped. “Tell me.”

“Well, I’m sorry your lordship,” she sarcastically replied, finding amusement from his rising temper. “It’s not my fault you’re my idiot of a brother who can’t see what’s right in front of him.”

“Enough with your riddles, please,” Cregan spoke, his tone changing from annoyance to a small plea.

“If you must know, it’s because of YOU.”

“Me? What have I done?” He questioned, confused as to what he did to cause such treatment from you.

“It’s more what you HAVEN’T done, dear brother,” Sara stated, pondering her next words carefully. “Do you not remember?”

“Remember what? What have I not done that I was apparently supposed to do or be doing?!” Cregan exasperatedly exclaimed.

“You’d think that something as big as this would be something you wouldn’t easily forget,” she began. “After all, Starks do not forget their oaths.”

Cregan let her words sink in, unsure of what she meant.

What could she possibly be talking about?

An oath?

What oath?

I never made - oh.

“Oh.”

“Oh. Is that all you can say?!” Sara asked, the dumbfounded look on Cregan’s face enough to ignite her anger.

“I - we - we - we were children!” Cregan answered. “It was nothing but a game the two of us played! Just like any other game.”

Sara scoffed at his words.

“Maybe for you, but for her it was never a game,” she shot back. “Do you often make a habit of swearing oaths beneath the heart tree? Oaths of a false future?”

“Sara - I - again, we were children.”

“All of the North knows how serious oaths made in the Godswood are to be taken. Even children know not to do such things. Especially beneath the heart tree! Not oaths of marriage! And ESPECIALLY not oaths of marriage that are sworn to the old gods. You were both far from children when you’d spoken those words to her, and you know it.”

Cregan recoiled at her harsh tone, surprised that they had not attracted any prying eyes from how tense things were.

“But - but - I don’t understand,” he softly said. “What does that have to do with any of this?”

“You fucking imbecile!” Sara seethed. “It has EVERYTHING to do with this. You’re betrothed to another, with no thought to how it would make her feel. Not only that, but ever since Arra arrived, you’ve done nothing but ignore her. And even worse, compare her and Arra! Are you really that blind? Do you not see the hurt you’ve caused the poor girl? The pain she has had to constantly endure everyday seeing you with another woman? THAT is why she avoids you. THAT is why she wants nothing to do with you. Her heart breaks every time she sees you, Cregan. She sees the way you look at Arra and wishes you’d look at her like that. She has spent the last year suffering in silence because of YOU. YOU made an oath to her that you would take her as your wife and make her the Lady of Winterfell, but now that oath has been forgotten. I am just a Snow, and for that I am glad, because I would be ashamed to be a Stark who forgot an oath. Even one made as a so called child.”

“I - I did not know of her fondness towards me,” he whispered, his heart clenching at the Sara’s words.

“That’s a lie and you know it,” Sara spat out. “She has stood by you through everything. Your brother’s passing. Your father’s passing. Getting Winterfell back from your uncle and cousins. Every moment since childhood, she has been there, and you doubt her feelings for you?”

“I did not know she felt that way,” Cregan answered, looking down at his feet. “Felt more than just kinship.”

“Anyone could see that she felt more than kinship towards you. All the damn North could see it! Can you really say that you did not feel the same way?”

Cregan hesitated to meet his sister’s eyes. He could feel them burning a hole into his skull, and he was sure that had he not been the Lord of Winterfell, she would have struck him by now. Although he doubted that would prevent Sara from raining her wrath down upon him, consequences of hitting a lord be damned.

“I - I do not know,” he softly spoke as he finally looked at his sister. “What do I do?”

“That, I cannot answer for you. You must decide that for yourself, dear brother. If you really don’t feel anything for her, then go through with the marriage to Arra. But if you do feel more than you care to admit, then that is something that you must figure out on your own,” Sara said as she patted his shoulder and walked away.

Cregan watched as Sara walked into the snow-covered courtyard and a lump formed in his throat when he spotted you in the shadows on the other side. He let out a sigh as you met his eye and then unsurprisingly slipped into the darkness to hide away. At that moment Cregan realized that that was the first time you had met his gaze in a long time. For exactly how long it had been, he wasn’t sure, but it had been long enough that he felt an emptiness sweep over him when you tore yourself away from his vision and faded into the darkness.

Cregan spent the next several days mulling over everything Sara had told him. Apart from speaking to his council regarding preparations for the upcoming winter and updates regarding the Wall, Cregan spent most of those days alone, often opting to go riding or sit in his study in quiet contemplation. Much of that was him going through every memory you two shared, trying to figure out where things had changed for you. However, during the evenings, in the solace of his chambers, he found himself just thinking about you.

Who you were as a person and how you had grown so close over the years. Arra had of course taken note of his sudden change in demeanor, and he had made up excuses like having important business to attend to with the maesters due to the coming winter being predicted as a longer and colder one. Arra had not pushed the matter, knowing that he had a lot on his shoulders as the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, especially when he was still quite young.

Some nights sleep would elude him, his thoughts weighing too heavily on his mind to allow him rest. On those nights he found himself wishing he could speak to you about everything. To confide in you as he once had. To talk about what he had done wrong and how to fix it. One such night, as he laid in his bed blankly staring at the ceiling, his thoughts drifted to a memory where you had been exceptionally happy.

- FLASHBACK -

It was the afternoon before your fifteenth name day, and Cregan had been teaching you how to shoot. You had always been an avid learner and that morning you’d begged him to teach you the ways of the bow, and he had finally relented when you told him it could be his gift to you. He had rolled his eyes at your antics but nonetheless grabbed a bow and told you to meet him in the practice yard.

You had been so carefree back then and Cregan smiled as he remembered the way your eyes had lit up when he appeared with a bow and quiver of arrows. He had started by teaching you the basics, how to hold the bow and draw the arrow back to the proper position, and how to aim. At first, you had struggled, unable to draw the arrow far enough and maintain the hold to aim, so Cregan had come up you to fix your form.

“Your feet should be shoulder width apart with your shoulder pointed to the target,” he instructed, moving your feet into the proper position and your shoulder to line up with the target. “Good, now keep your back straight and push your hips forward. You should be comfortable enough to hold this position for a while. Your inner elbow should be parallel to the ground and when you draw the arrow make sure to pull your shoulders back and lift your elbow. Now bring the arrow back toward your face until the bow feels tight, but keep your arms relaxed. Don’t tense.”

You followed his instructions as best as you could, but he noticed that your stance was still a little off, so he went to stand behind you and pulled your shoulders back, before placing his hands on your hips, shifting you ever so slightly to bring your pelvis forward. At the time he had taken note of how you had sucked in a breath at the action but thought nothing of it as he held your waist and told you to release the arrow. You’d both watched with bated breath as the arrow soared through the air and landed dead center of the target. You jumped with glee and turned to face him; a giant grin plastered on your face.

“I did it!” You proudly exclaimed.

“That you did, my lady,” Cregan replied, your infectious smile drawing one of his own to his face. You continued to jump for joy and expectedly planted a kiss on his cheek, his face growing hot at your act of affection. You then turned back to the target and nocked another arrow, unaware of the blush that graced his face and continued spread across his cheeks and down his necks. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride as he watched you shoot arrow after arrow into the target, his smile staying on his face the entire time.

- END FLASHBACK -

Cregan abruptly sat up in bed at the memory. He’d remembered the way his body had reacted at being so close to yours. How he’d felt a tingle in his fingertips when he placed his hands on your hips. He recalled the way your body easily shifted into position as he moved you into place. He remembered how you moved with such grace as you kept shooting, your skill improving with each arrow.

As Cregan continued to think of the events of that day, and the more he recalled, the clearer things became. Not just for that day, but for every day before and after that.

The way the sun illuminated your eyes, showing a hint of mischief behind them, had always captured his attention. The way the cold bite of the North would reddened your nose and cheeks had always made him chuckle in amusement.

The sweet melody of your voice, especially when saying his name, had always made him feel warm inside.

The way you smiled so much brighter - a special smile reserved just for him - when seeing him had always made his heart thump loudly in his chest.

And the way your small hand always seemed to sit so snuggly in his large ones had always made his breath hitch.

It had always been there.

The way your cheery and sweet temperament balanced his more serious and brooding nature.

The way the two of you always worked so well together when it came to hunting or matters of running Winterfell.

The way you each knew when the other was having a bad day and needed extra comfort.

The way you could both communicate with just one look.

The two of you had always fit so perfectly together, like pieces of a puzzle, or two sides to a coin.

It had always been there.

And it had always been seen by those around the two of you. 

Except for him.

Until now.

Cregan’s eyes widened in realization. Your feelings were not one sided. Far from it. He felt the same way for you as you did for him.

You loved him.

And he loved you.

⟸ Previous Chapter ❖ Next Chapter ⟹

[coco-loco-nut]

007 - part two

pairing: oscar x reader

summary: maybe a soulmate isn’t the worst thing to happen to you

masterlist part one part three requests open

——————

Oscar sent you a text that night. He was a little disappointed when it took you a couple days to reply, but that was quickly made up when you sent a time and location. The mystery around you is thrilling to him.

You wait in the corner of a cafe for Oscar, sipping a flat white. Your eyes immediately find him when he walks in, locked in on him. He quickly orders and makes his way to you. Oscar barely gets in a hello before you get down to business.

“I need you to know something before anything happens. I live a very dangerous life and I don’t plan on stepping away any time soon,” you leave certain things unsaid, like the very real chances of you dying. “It’s hard for the soulmates of those in my line of work. Suddenly the danger meter means more to them, and it can disrupt their lives,” you lean forward a little, subtly emphasizing how important it is.

“I’m a Formula One driver, I am familiar with the risk of dying. I know the risks associated with being your soulmate,” Oscar says and you bite back a remark about his job still being safer than yours. You need to try and be less standoffish.

“Right. Well, I can’t say that I know how to proceed with this. I’m a bit new to the whole thing,” you are a little embarrassed.

“I am too. We can handle it together,” Oscar smiles. He wants to reach across the table to hold your hand, but he doesn’t want to push it so he sips his coffee. “Tell me more about you, all I know is that you do a really dangerous job,” Oscar prompts you.

“Bold statement coming from someone who also has a really dangerous job. I really enjoy traveling, dislike paperwork. When I’m not working, I like reading or taking small trips. Um, I have a cat who is the light of my life,” you pause as Oscar lets out a laugh. “Tell me more about you, more than what your background check tells me,” Oscar sees the playful glimmer in your eye.

“Well, I’ve been getting into cricket and basketball. When I was a kid, I went through this phase where I thought I was a car,” Oscar admits.

“I would always sneak around as a kid, acting like a spy. I guess both of our childhood fantasies worked out,” you hide your bittersweet feelings. Oscar notices but doesn’t push it.

“So I guess you would be the Holly Shiftwell to my Lightning McQueen,” Oscar tries to bring up your mood but you give him confused look.

“But they were never romantic partners?” you say, a little confused with how happy Oscar looks. He’s just happy you have seen the movies and seem to like them enough.

“Semantics. What are you doing now that you aren’t chasing down criminals in the paddock?”

“You mean your soulmate? I’m being forced to take a break from missions right now. Apparently I’ve been hogging all the action and need to help in HQ for a few months,” your distaste for the orders is clear on your face.

“You can join me at a race. If you want to,”

“Really? I don’t want to be a distraction and I don’t know anything about Formula One,” you hesitate, not wanting to impose.

“I want you there. Who better to teach you the sport than me?” Oscar reassures you.

“Well, I guess I will have to take you up on it,” you take the little leap of faith. It’s not something you would normally do. But your soulmate is worth it… right?

You and Oscar agree to a race that is around a month later, giving you time to get to know each other and for him to teach you different aspects of the sport. The month still doesn’t seem to be enough as you arrive at your first race as his soulmate.

“Hey,” Oscar pulls you into a hug as you stand at his hotel room door. He presses a kiss to your forehead before taking your bag as you walk in.

“How was media?” you ask, making yourself comfortable on the bed beside him. It’s clear that he hastily straightened up the room when he got back from free practice.

“Boring, I was counting down the minutes until you got here,” he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you hum in response. You relax into his warmth, taking in the familiar scent that you’ve found comfort in.

“I couldn’t wait to get out of the office too,” you admit a few moments later. You left a little early to catch a flight here for the weekend.

“Still stuck on paperwork? I must admit, it’s nice not having your danger meter spike,” Oscar murmurs, a little sleepy.

“What’s on your mind?” Oscar observes your distant look when you don’t immediately reply, having learned how to read you more.

“What would you say if I left my job?” you say quietly, almost a whisper. Oscar sits up, needing to properly look at you.

“I’d be a little confused because you love it, but ultimately it’s your choice,” Oscar says, silently asking you to elaborate.

“Well, as soon as someone finds out who I am my cover is blown, putting both of us at risk. It’s a lonely life, and when it was only Boots and me that was okay, but I don’t want to be alone anymore,” you admit, not expecting to feel emotional about it.

“I’ll support you either way, but I don’t want you to quit just for me. What would you do if you left?” he asks, feeling a little guilty.

“The longer I stay in action, the more dangerous my missions will be. Most of mine before didn’t interact with targets, but things will get more dangerous from here. It’s what I’ve worked for my whole life. As for what I would do if I left…” you pause for a second, letting Oscar absorb everything. “Well, your security is seriously lacking, and as your soulmate I think I should do something about that. I was also offered a higher up position that would take me out of action for good,”

“Having my own personal security guard who is also my soulmate? That could be dangerous,” somehow you don’t think Oscar means the kind of danger that would raise your meters.

“Oscar!” Your cheeks flush as you bite back a laugh, acting scandalized. “Alright, I’m going to shower before bed,” you slide out of his arms, looking back at him, knowing what he is about to suggest. “No, you can’t join,” you laugh as he pouts. You two aren’t there yet, but he is proud at how comfortable you are around him.

Oscar leaves early in the morning for free practice, promising to meet you at the gates when you arrive for qualifying. You happily take the extra time to sleep.

Qualifying is your test run. You get a feel for the team and race environment while keeping a low profile. Arriving for the race is a different thing.

“Ready?” Oscar asks as he parks at the circuit. He looks so cozy in his hoodie, and to be fair, you woke him up half an hour before having to leave.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you nervously smile. You are never nervous, but this is different. You are dressed fashionably, but nothing that makes you stand out too much. Your dark sunglasses help hide some of your features as you walk in on Oscars arm. You both look happy as you walk in, and the media notices.

“Oscar!” Logan calls him over, you recognize the American from your initial background check.

“Hey. This is my soulmate, Y/n. Y/n, this is my best friend, Logan,” Oscar introduces both of you.

“Hi, it’s nice to actually meet you,” you hug Logan, taking him by surprise.

“Aww, you talk about me?” Logan coos at Oscar.

“You came up in her background check on me,” Oscar says causing Logan to let go of your hug.

“Weird, but I like it. We are going to be great friends, Leiter and Bond,” Logan rolls with it. He remembers the first time Oscar mentioned you and that’s enough for him.

“You are a sexier James Bond, license to kill and all,” Oscar chimes in, trying to flirt and joke at the same time.

“Oh baby, no. That is nothing like what we do,” you accidentally slip up, and Logan’s eyes widen.

“I thought you were joking. I will keep this to myself though. That’s so cool. Can we watch those movies together?” Logan quickly says, not wanting you to worry. Your initial coolness that Oscar described to him over the past month makes more sense to him now.

“We should get going, I don’t want Zak and Andrea to get mad,” Oscar says, leading both of you away.

“This is the McLaren motorhome, you are welcome to sit in the drivers lounge or in my room while I am in the meeting. Afterwards, I can introduce you to Charles and his girlfriend,” Oscar offers as you look around.

“They should have better security here,” you tut, looking at all the different ways you could easily get in.

“Don’t worry, other teams aren’t coming in and stealing our secrets,” Oscar kisses the side of your head as he leads you upstairs to his drivers room.

“I could always do some recon,” you slyly smile, anything to help him win.

“That’s okay, I don’t need that to win. I have you motivating me,” he smiles, one which falters as a man with brown curly hair comes barreling towards you.

“OSCAR! Is this her? Hi, I’m Lando,” the man, Lando, says, extending his hand.

“Y/n,” you coolly reply, defenses going up as he pulls you into a hug once you take his hand. Oscar can tell you are uncomfortable, Lando springing himself on you.

“Let me help her get settled and I will be down,” Oscar says, cueing Lando to go to the meeting without him. “You are going to look Lando up, aren’t you?” he asks with an amused smile once you are in the safety of his room.

“Yeah, get ready for all his dirty laundry to be aired,” you lightly laugh.

“I look forward to it. I need more blackmail on him. I’ll see you soon, this meeting won’t take long,” Oscar promises, leaving you alone. You spend the half hour he is away looking up his teammate and some other drivers.

“Did I do something wrong?” Lando asks Oscar on their way back to the drivers rooms.

“No, she just wasn’t expecting you. Y/n is pretty guarded around new people, it stems from her job. She will warm up to you,” Oscar replies, not wanting his teammate and soulmate to hate each other.

“Does she work for the government or something?” Lando jokes, a little too accurate.

“Or something, don’t worry about it,” Oscar says, excited to see you again. You wait at the door for Oscar.

“For a professional driver, you have a lot of traffic violations,” you tell Lando, who notices the amused glimmer in your eye and relaxes. Whatever you did during the meeting seems to have worked.

“I have the need for speed,” Lando smiles, happy that you’ve warmed up a little. “Wait, how did you-“

“Don’t worry about it, we will see you later,” Oscar cuts him off, taking you to Ferrari.

“So, Charles is your fake adoptive dad? He has a fairly clean record, I couldn’t find much on him,” you comb over what you learned in your mind.

“Oh, Max is going to love you. You both have cats and you could prep him for whoever he is meeting with,” Oscar laughs, glad that you are taking the time to know his coworkers even if it isn’t the traditional route.

“Max Verstappen? I don’t usually do hits, but I will take out his father for free if he wants,” the way you say it so casually causes Oscar to almost choke.

“I will let him know,” he says, a little unsure how one replies to that.

You are quick to befriend Charles and Alexandra, the latter offers for you to join her while watching the race. You politely decline, but promise to join another race. Oscar takes you around to some other drivers, including Max, before introducing you to more people at McLaren.

You settle into the garage as the race starts, nervous as you watch Oscar on a small screen. You are aware of cameras that are pointed at you, but you ignore them. They don’t know you, all they can do is speculate.

The race is going smoothly until lap 37. Oscar is fighting for position when you fell the sickening twinge of the meter on your arm increasing. Your eyes are glued to the screen as you listen to the team radio, feeling a pit in your stomach.

Carlos and Oscar made contact which at minimum punctured Oscar’s tires. You hear his frustration, but you are just glad that’s all it was.

“Check the front wing too,” you hear him say after confirming he’s okay. He makes it back to the garage safely due to the incident being close to pit lane, but they retire his car due to other damage. Oscar seems too calm to you as he exits the car. Even you would show more emotion in that scenario.

Oscar’s eyes meet yours and before you know it, you are on your feet walking to him. He wraps you in a hug and you gently rub his back. You hold each other for a minute, taking a moment ground each other.

“You okay?” you practically yell over the noise and he just nods, guiding you out of the garage.

“That’s not the win I wanted to give you,” Oscar sighs as you walk back to his room after he gets weighed.

“I hope I’m not bad luck,”

“Never. You are good luck, that should’ve been worse than it was,” Oscar reassures you. A small part of him is happy to be spending time with you.

“I’m sorry your race ended like that, you were driving so well,” you frown, as Oscar squeezes your hand.

“Nothing I can do now, next race is a new opportunity. I have to go do media, do you want to watch the rest in McLaren?” Oscar asks, wanting to know where to find you later.

“I’ll go to Ferrari and watch with Alexandra,” you decide, needing to have friends around here. Oscar nods, leading you to your new friend. He kisses you goodbye before you walk in.

“Hey, are you okay? Those are scary, no matter how minor,” Alexandra greets you when she notices you.

“Yeah. Osc is fine, I’m just upset for him,” you shrug. You’ve seen your partners in danger on missions, but this is a whole different ballgame.

“Grab a seat, want a coffee?” she asks, making sure you are comfortable.

“No, but maybe you can teach me better than Oscar,” you watch her face light up as she immediately dives into sharing her knowledge, explaining everything to you as it happens.

“Come and meet some of the others. Oscar will be pulled into meetings,” Alexandra says, pulling you away from Ferrari.

“Shouldn’t you be with Charles? He must be looking for you,”

“He can wait,” Alexandra waves your concern off as you galavant around the paddock.

Your great experience with the WAGs further conflicted you if you wanted to stay or leave your job. And it all came to a head when you were brought in on an emergency mission once you returned from your weekend away.

This might be your most dangerous recon mission yet. Your part is simple on paper, get in, copy the digital files, get out. It wasn’t simple in execution.

You just skimmed the files, getting crucial information that will stop the operation. Now for the hard part - getting out and getting away.

You slip out of the room, when you hear footsteps getting closer and closer. Just like the stereotype, you slide around a corner and hold your breath, praying they don’t turn your way. They are so close you can feel their body heat beside you. You focus on remaining calm, but this is the most on edge you’ve ever been. You close your eyes as you feel your stomach drop.

This is it. You can see Oscar’s face as he opens his driver room door, two agents standing outside. The agents are solemn as they deliver the news - you were captured and killed on a mission. Every word, every moment is played perfectly in your mind. And your cat, Oscar will have to take care of Boots, a constant reminder of you.

Oscar sits in his post FP2 meeting when it happens, feeling the sickening feeling of your danger meter telling him you were in danger. After it being normal for the past few days, his stomach drops at how high it is.

“I need five,” Oscar runs out like he’s about to puke. You promised in your hastily written letter that you’d try to be safe, but all you really said that you had to leave, couldn’t take your phone, and it was an emergency. He naively thought that you wouldn’t be in the field, that you were just needed on the sidelines. He wasn’t completely wrong, you helped from the side for everything but your part in the operation.

“Oscar? Hey, are you okay?” Lando asks, walking into the room where Oscar disappeared to.

“I- I don’t know,” Oscar looks at his arm, silently pleading for the meter to go down. Lando sees it and just sits beside Oscar.

“Wanna talk about it?” Lando says after a few seconds of silence.

“She left a few days ago with only a note and her cell phone behind. Got an emergency call while I was out. Poor Boots, he must miss his mom. And I know she’s not abandoning me, but I think I finally know how my mom feels about my career,” Oscar says after a minute.

“I assume she’s in the military, or like, a detective to be in danger, and that’s pretty badass of her. I know she came off as cold initially to a lot of us, except when she’s with you and some of the girls, but I can tell that she really likes you. And she seems like she holds her own,” Lando starts listing everything he likes about you from the couple interactions you had during the race day. It helps distract Oscar, calming him little by little.

You step around the corner as soon as the voices fade and come face to face with a security guard. You quickly land a few punches, knocking him out. In the moment you are grateful for your disguise and the cameras that are currently disabled thanks to your team. As you quickly exit the building, you notice another guard tailing you. You quickly get into your getaway car, turning it on and pressing the throttle. It lurches under you, making a hasty exit as they chase you.

Glances in the rear view mirror tell you that you aren’t out of the woods yet. You send a small prayer that Oscar’s talent will be enough as you speed down the street. The car just isn’t fast enough, you are being hunted and the hunter keeps creeping closer and closer. Once again you hope your luck hasn’t run out as you will the car to go just a little faster.

Lando stays seated beside Oscar, trying not to stare at the meter on his teammates arm. He watches the tears run down Oscar’s face as the meter creeps higher, higher, then drops.

[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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[shalomniscient]

“are you sure you have everything?”

lyney huffs a bit of a strangled laugh, but nods. he’s somewhat used to your fussing, but it still feels a little… not exactly embarrassing, but a warm heat makes its way from his chest to his cheeks nonetheless. he holds the magic pocket bag closer to his chest as you fix the fastenings of his fatui cloak yet again, fiddling with the clips and ensuring they’re secure and not about to fly off in the harbor wind as it blows freely around them all.

“i’m all set,” he assures you, then glances over at lynette. she’s still a little woozy—it is the break of dawn, after all, since father prefers moving under the dense cover of darkness, and though lynette is awake she’s certainly not ecstatic to be awake. as a result, she’s the next target of your fussing; you gently pat her cheeks to wake her up a little more, and she lets out almost a small, mewling noise before snapping out of her drowsy daze.

“you can rest a little more on the ship, lynette,” you say, and the young woman nods. “if you get seasick, i packed some medicine. and i made some food if you get hungry; it won’t last very long on a ship, so remember to eat it, okay? oh—i also packed earmuffs, be sure to wear them if it gets too cold, alright?”

“understood,” lynette answers, leaning into your touch as you pat her hair. she’s always been more physically affectionate with you, though she tempers herself when the familiar sound of boots and metallic heels on stone tiles echo behind all of you.

“i take it everyone is prepared to set off?” comes father’s calm, even tone. behind her is freminet; he isn’t dressed for travel, since he’ll be staying in fontaine, but followed along to see them off. she’s dressed somewhat similarly, but unlike lyney and lynette who seem to drown in their cloaks, father wears it like a mantle—the fur broadens her already broad shoulders, and she looks more like a king than ever. and yet despite that, you simply turn and stride over to her, your hands reaching out to smooth down the lapels of her cloak.

“just double checking,” you hum, though there’s a little bit of a sigh in your voice. “i think i packed everything.”

father offers you a mild look. “the children know how to pack their own things.”

“i know, but i wanted to help,” you reply, and lyney swears he sees the hard lines of her face soften imperceptibly. there’s a slackness to her normally tense posture as you do all your last minute checks—cufflinks? i have them. hand cream? yes. ID? all settled, dearest—and lyney has to marvel on the sway you have over their typically unshakeable father.

“we should head out,” she says gently, taking one of your wrists in a tender, dark hand. a brief flicker of stubborness flashes across your expression, before you sigh.

“ah, before i forget…” you produce a tiny pouch, and then place it into father’s open palm. she regards it curiously, tilting her head. there’s a rustle of plastic inside, but also the clack of a few hard objects hitting each other. “coffee candies,” you explain, “for when you feel sleepy.”

“thank you,” father says, her tone as warm and soft as it always is with you. she accepts the pouch, and slips it into one of her cloak pockets. “i will remember to have them.”

you huff. “you better. i’ve already told lyney and lynette not to let you skip meals, as you’re so prone to do.”

“is that so?” father asks mildly, glancing at them both, and it takes quite a bit to not shiver under her questioning gaze. lyney truly has no idea how he’ll convince father to eat later on this trip, but he figures dropping your name a few time should do the trick. he hopes.

“it is,” you say firmly, and then your tone softens again. you look up at father, and lyney cannot see your expression from here, but he knows the same is reflected in father’s—loving, with a hint of departure’s sorrow. “be safe. come home.”

“alwaus,” father answers, and lyney, lynette and freminet have the sense to look away when she leans down to kiss you chastely. they only look back up when father steps over to them, leaving you and freminet on the other side of the dock. she levels freminet with a look. “do not forget your duty, freminet.”

he nods resolutely, hugging pers a little tighter. “of course, father.”

(just a few moments ago, she’d pulled him to the side and gave him a direct order, as the fourth fatui harbingers and the knave.

“you will protect the house with your life,” she had said, her tone brookering no argument, though it wasn’t as if freminet was looking to argue. and though father has said ‘the house’, freminet had lived long enough there to know the truth of her words.

“yes, father. i won’t let anything happen to mom.”)

and then, with the bellow of a horn, their little ship sets off into morning light. lyney watches father’s face carefully as the dawn breaks, casting the harbinger’s expression in shades of warm gold. she’s uncharacteristically unguarded in this brief flash of a moment—not that she would ever admit such a thing, even upon threat of death. but lyney knows love is most felt when it is leaving, and so even as she turns on her heel to enter the cabin, he knows she’s already counting down the days before she can return home—return to you.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Saw you took D&W- Gambit requests. 💜

Would you consider a mostly fluffy one where Reader was in the Void, caught feelings for Remy, & somehow got separated from him in the transfer to Wade's timeline, so they reunite after each thinking the other didn't make it? Like maybe Reader never outright said how they felt till after they thought they'd lost Gambit? Something like that.

🏆 Thank you! 🏆

separated

A/n: love this more than you know anon

Warnings: did a lotttt of canon switching for this one. So… yeah. Fem!reader, mentions of wounds and blood

REMY MASTERLIST | KOFI

“Oh, look at them. They’re so adorable together.” Wade pointed to the both of you with a smile on his face, Logan furrowing his eyebrows.

“They just met.”

“Have you ever seen any disney movie ever? Love at first sight? I’m just glad my girl is finally getting some. About time. After that one breakup…” he rambled on.

Logan didn’t reply, just rolled his eyes and tuned him out, eyes glancing back up at the both of you.

The crackling of the fire filled the air as you sat next to him, feeling the warmth radiating from the flames and his leg touching yours. In that moment, the worries you had about Cassandra Nova and the desolate wasteland around you faded away.

He sent you a small smile, eyes lingering on your lips for a little too long when you laughed. It’s only been a few days, and he swears he’s known you his entire life.

He’s never felt this way before, the feeling foreign to him. It makes his heart pound and his soul yearn.

And everyone can notice it except for you, how hopelessly in love he is with you, and you him.

During the battle, he’s sending you a smirk, both of you working together to kill them all.

You stand by his side until you’re suddenly pulled by Wade into the portal, Remy holding a hand out, as if to try and stop him from pulling you in.

Wade assured you that he was probably okay, but let it slip that maybe, just maybe he was dead. He immediately covered his mouth.

You stared at Wade, the thought not crossing your mind in your shattered state.

The belief that he was dead, the simple idea of it, had you sulking in your bed, grieving for weeks. Wade had come into the room throughout the time, giving you food, telling you stories, speaking about whatever he could to hopefully crack a smile.

“Nice talk.” He murmured out, patting your arm while he stood up, sighing and shaking his head to himself.

“No luck?” Logan asked him when he walked out, switching through the channels on the tv.

“No luck. Still depressed as ever.”

Logan thought for a moment, pausing on one of the news channels.

“Why don’t you just do the portal… finger thing. Go back to the void.” He shrugged, “see if he’s alive or something.”

“Portal finger thing… haven’t heard that one before.” He said suggestively, Logan rolling his eyes at the man.

“You’re disgusting.” He murmured, standing up from the couch and into the kitchen.

But the more Wade thought about it, the better the idea sounded.

That’s how he ended up dragging the bloodied, heavy, and tired cajun into his apartment.

“Okay, there we go.” Wade grunted out, carrying him to the table.

You strolled out, not paying attention when you walked out your room. Wade smiled, standing next to the man. You didn’t see either of them, still staring down at your phone as you walked past them and into the kitchen.

You didn’t know he was there until he let out a pained little murmur of “cher?”

You spun around at the sound of his voice, your phone dropping and your eyes widening in surprise. Wade still stood next to him, proud smile on his face.

“Sooo… happy birthday.”

You were speechless, only stuttering out a very quiet “Remy?”

“And me.” Wade chimed in.

Logan also came walking out, his eyebrow quirking at the sight of him bleeding onto the table.

“He’s- he’s bleeding!” You told Wade.

“Yeah, had to carry him in. He’s extremely heavy too. I’m convinced he is all muscle.” He spoke, you rushing to his side.

“Ah, it’s jus’ a scratch, don’t worry ‘bout me, cher.” He told you with a wave of his hand, small smirk on his face.

You shook your head at him, going into the kitchen and grabbing the first aid kit stashed in there.

“Why are you hiding first aid kits in my house?” Wade asked you with a quirked eyebrow.

“In case I needed them.” You shrugged it off, pulling out some of the things that you needed. You grabbed a rag, Wade groaning at how much of his kitchen supplies would be ruined after this.

You ignored him, focusing on the man who laid out in front of you. His injuries weren’t bad enough to be fatal, thankfully, but they still could probably very easily get infected.

He stared up at you while you cleaned off his wounds. You glanced down at him, offering him a small smile.

“Can you take off your… suit.. thingie?”

He raised his eyebrows at your words. “Ah, if you wanted me to take my clothes off, you coulda said t’at.” He said with a laugh, sitting up to pull off his jacket and his body armor.

You rolled your eyes at the man, lightly shoving him back down when it was done.

“You know, you worried the shit out of me, Remy.” You told him quietly, beginning to clean the wounds that were littered across his body.

“I’m sorry, cher. I didn’t mean to do dat to ya.” He spoke sincerely. “But, if ‘t makes you feel better, I worried ‘bout you more.”

You sighed, damn him and his charm, you thought to yourself.

After you had finished cleaning his wounds, he sat up on the table, looking at you walk around the kitchen for a moment before turning to him, offering him a cup of water, which he gladly took.

“Reunions are always my favorites.” Wade spoke dreamily, his elbows propped up on the table next to Remy, staring at the both of you with a smile.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the man.

“Except for family reunions.” He shuddered at the mere thought. “Disgusting. But… this is too cute. And I think we should all-“ he trailed off, still rambling on as he went into the kitchen, opening up the freezer.

“You wanna go up to the roof?” You whispered to him, to which he quickly nodded at in reply, hopping off the table and grabbing a random sweater strewn around while you both left.

“God, I’m just so excited that- and they’re gone. What the hell? Where’d they go?” Wade asked himself, a tub of ice cream in his hands. He sighed before his eyes landed on Logan, who had walked out at the worst moment possible.

“Peanut! You’re here!”

“What?” He grumbled out.

“Since y/n and her hot boy toy left, we are gonna have a movie night.” Wade practically dragged him out, ignoring his protests.

You giggled as you practically dragged him up the stairs, pushing past the doors and leading him to the edge of one of the buildings.

You both sat next to each other, legs dangling off the edge. He looked at you, soft smile stuck on his face.

“What?” You asked him, noticing his staring. He shook his head, looking ahead again. Both of you stayed looking at the stars for a moment, the sound of passing cars and chirping crickets filling the air.

“I… I thought that you were dead.” You told him finally, still staring ahead.

“I’m here now, ain’t I?” He turned to you now, his head slightly tilted.

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed, “obviously. But…” you trailed off.

“Hey,” he nudged your shoulder with his own, making you look at him. “T’ey gonna need a lot more than dat to take me out.”

You chuckled again, him cracking a smile at the sound of your laughter.

You both stared at each other, gazing into each others eyes for what felt like an eternity. He was the one to make the first move, his hand gliding off of the cold cement underneath him, and moving towards your face, sending shivers down your spine. Your breath hitched when he leaned closer, his lips ghosting over yours.

You were the one to smash your lips against his, shutting your eyes. Your lips moved against each other, finally getting the one thing you’ve been longing for.

You pulled away after a few moments, both of you softly panting, his hand still on your face, your lips still close to each other. “Is now a good time to tell you that I like you?” You asked him, him chuckling, pulling his hand away from your jaw.

“Remy likes you too, cher.” He told you. You sighed in relief, him turning to look back out at the stars. He pulled you closer to his side, and you put your head on his shoulder.

A/n: fuck yeah dude, this is what I call a comeback after not having written in forever

[gothgoblinbabe]

hiyaa <333 just wanted to drop a Logan request here.. (pref from the ver of the x-men, 2000?) because it's always like sunshine reader this and grumpy/mean logan that (i luv them btw) but what about cool!reader. what about the reader that can and will not put the cocky shit he is on his place but keep him there??? what about the reader that tames him down, the reader that casually grabs the back of his shirt to keep him from launching himself at Scott with a deadpan face, the one that lets him bite??? the one that will literally outmatch his agressive and violent energy????? the one that grabs his wrist when his claws go out and quirks an eyebrow at him like 'really?'???? like pls we do seriously need a bit of a level-head/intermediator!reader with Logan (can be smut if u feel like it?) 🙏🙇 fem if possible <33

IM KICKING MY FEET SO HARD RN OMG, I also love grumpy Logan x sunshine reader but being w someone that matches his energy? Oh my god, that’s my shit

NSFW/18+ // This isn’t like a full oneshot ig but if you do want that with plot and stuff lmk!)

- Within the first few months of meeting each other, everyone would definitely tease Logan (and you) about how you’re like the female version of him. You don’t put up with anyone’s shit, including his. He learned that the hard way, nearly being knocked on his ass when you yanked the back of his jacket to prevent him from ripping Scott to shreds because of some stupid comment. That wasn’t a one time occurrence, either. You were the only one bold enough to actually try to put him in his place when the claws came out, going as far as to use both hands to hold his wrist in place while you glared up at him.

“Chill the fuck out, would you?”

And the first time you had the balls to actually do that, everyone else stood back in mild fear, anticipating some kind of fight between the two of you. Instead, he rolled his eyes and retracted his claws. It was an unusual influence you had over him, something about you that made him feel hypnotized.

- He’ll never admit it to another soul, but he definitely likes that you’re dominant over him at times when you have to cool him down. Grabbing his arm, pushing him back - lightly tugging at his hair if you really couldn’t get his attention. He likes when you put him in his place, get a little rough with him or talk in an angry tone.

- And because I’m a sucker for friends to lovers, I think he’d be so head over heels for you because of that. He’d try his best to be stone faced when you were stern with him, but he’d be gnawing on his bottom lip to the point of drawing blood.

- Same thing with training: If you actually manage to wrestle him down to the mat, he knows he can push you off if he really wants to, but he never does - he gets way too engrossed in staring up at you while you straddle his lap and hold his arms down.

- Though Logan wasn’t always levelheaded, he could return the favor of holding you back when you got too aggressive, wrapping his arms around the middle of your waist and pulling you back - sometimes even having to lift you off the ground and sling you over his shoulder. Truthfully, he’d let you tear someone apart if it were up to him - the assholes usually deserve it - but he knew it would be frowned upon to not stop you.

- I think when you somehow do admit your feelings - maybe you get pissed when he puts himself in danger and just tell him you love him or he does the same when he starts to become a little too jealous of anyone else hanging around near you - he’d always have his hands on you in some way. Maybe the small of your back, your hands, your wrist - anything. And the jealousy thing? Oh, forget it, he won’t even let another guy stand too close to you. He’s not toxic (maybe if you wanted him to be🫣) but very protective, he’ll let another guy talk to you if he’s gotta but his hand is in your back pocket the entire time while he stares the dude down.

- Angry sex is a regular occurrence. Are you really mad at each other? Not even close, but it doesn’t take much more than a few choice words exchanged in the hall for Logan to be dragging you into the nearest room with a lock, holding you up against the wall and drilling into you till he has to hold a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. There were definitely a handful of times you’d almost been caught, trying to babble out an excuse about being busy to whoever was behind the door while your leg was hiked over Logan’s shoulder, messily eating you out with your skirt bunched up at your waist.

- Overall I think you’d make a good pair, keeping each other in balance when one of you gets a little feral (though, let’s be honest, it’s definitely usually you having to hold him back).

Like I said if you want more of that concept or like something w plot pls lmk!! Absolutely love the idea 🫶🏻

[lyneira]

Hi! May I please request headcanons for how the Toji, Choso, Gojo, and Nanami would react to his gn crush kissing him because they're so in love with him? Thank you!

Headcanons of Toji, Choso, Gojo, and Nanami's reactions after their s/o kisses them passionately out of nowhere

Toji, Choso, Gojo, and Nanami (separately) x reader

fluff with some spice!

a/n: I changed the prompt a bit in which the reader is already in an established relationship with the characters rather than being their crush. I misread your ask the first time I read it and only understood what you meant when I had finally finished writing. So sorry anon, I hope this is okay anyway! 😭

TOJI

He'd chuckle, "Well, aren't you such a sweetheart?", before grabbing your chin and kissing you back, full-force.

He'd find it so endearing that you loved him greatly. Surely, he'd show you how much he felt for you as well.

You'll see it in the way his eyes glint dangerously at you, like a predator ready to capture his prey, as he kisses you relentlessly.

You'll hear it in the way he lowly hums with delight into your lips with each kiss.

You'll taste it in the way he pushes his tongue into your mouth, exploring every part of it before dancing with yours.

You'll feel it in the way his other arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you in closer to firmly press his body up against yours. You'll feel something in particular begin to press up against you too.

Through all this, Toji would hope that you at least understand one important thing - You can't kiss him without expecting it to get steamy ;)

CHOSO

He's as over the moon for you as you are for him. He'll kiss you back with the same intensity, if not more.

Choso will never hold back in terms of expressing his love for you. So when you openly and freely express your love for him, it brings his heart so much joy that he could cry. (and no doubt he would)

He'd cup your cheeks and smother your face with kisses, each kiss holding tons of affection. (His adoration for you would grow tenfold if you would do the same)

In general, with Choso, once you show him even an ounce of affection, he'll never hesitate to give it back. If you two continue to reciprocate each other's affections, then it'll be a long night of giving each other love and much more~

GOJO

I could imagine he'd grin, "Oh, you're too cute, Y/N. C'mere", and pounce on you with a big kiss.

Sure, he might be used to being fawned over and being the object of others' affection, but he doesn't take any affection from you for granted. You're special to him, after all. He'll love any gesture of affection from you the most and will always show his appreciation for it in fun-loving ways.

So I think he'd be the type to continue kissing you playfully: leaving light kisses on your lips, down your neck, around your collarbone, and maybe even further down, all while keeping his hands on your hips to ensure you're grounded underneath him. His firm grip on your hips was his way of telling you that he isn't letting you go any time soon.

Anyway, you'll end up finding quite a lot of love-bites all over your body, also in the most intimate places, once he's done with you.

NANAMI

He'd probably get caught off guard from the sudden gesture of affection.

Yet, in that moment, he'd feel at peace. Looking at your smiling face full of happiness and seeing your beautiful eyes shine with love and adoration staring back into his own couldn't bring him more joy.

Knowing that there's someone who loves him this much warms his heart and soothes his mind. Especially after a long day from work, he's incredibly grateful that you're the one he can come home to.

He'll wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in closely while keeping his gaze upon you, his eyes so gentle as he admires your visage.

"I love you", he'll whisper with a soft smile before going in for a kiss.

As he kisses you back, you'll feel the passion he has for you in his lips, claiming them over and over again as he embraces you tighter.

Your hearts would be so close to one another's, and each heartbeat would be his vow to protect you, the most precious thing on earth to him, with all his might.

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[challenger-fan-club]

fwb Art who's absolutely in love with you and obsessed with you and who asked to be your boyfriend many times and taking you on many dates but you kept rejecting until one day he gets to know that you're going on a date with someone else so he tries to stop thay date from happening and showing you who you belong to by having the most passionate sex and finally convincing you to accept you as your boyfriend

you can say you don't want this to be Stanford Art but it is.

You've turned him down so many times. But you can't stay away from him. The way he kisses you, the way he touches you. You're needy for him but you know that you can't be in a relationship with him. He's not good for you, not good for you to be distracted. You're not exactly the dating type and Art is almost ready to be a husband. All your friends think you're insane, you know that they're ready to settle down but we're too young and you want to be carefree for just a while. Art is also so very nice, and sweet and kind and you don't want to hurt him when you inevitable self destruct. You rationalise it to protect yourself, it would be like torturing a puppy. You don't want to waste his time and effort. You're doing this for him.

But you can't keep yourself away from Art. You always end up at his door at the end of the night, and he's so obsessed with you, he'll never tell you no. He just makes you cups of tea and cuddles you and keeps you warm. Giving you everything that you want, whenever you want it. "We're just friends with benefits." You tell him and repeat to yourself and Art nods his head as if to say "i know." He invites you to the bar with him, says Patrick and his new girlfriend will be there but they always seem to mysteriously cancel. Patrick was either the worst friend or just didn't exist. "This is not a date Art." He gets you both drinks. He gives you the "i know" nod, slightly hurt, given you a face, slightly like you've stood on a puppys paw. Art asks to be your boyfriend a lot. And you know that you should cut him off and let him go but you can't help yourself. It's like you and Art are magnets or somehow cosmetically intertwined.

Art walks up to you and your friends standing talking. It kills him because he wants to wrap his hands around you like he did in his bed last night. But because you're just fuck buddies, he can't kiss you. He's not even sure if your friends know that you've been seeing each other for the last while. You try to ignore him as you're continuing the conversation as one of your friends starts speaking to him. "Do you know where youre going? and more importantly, what are you wearing?"

Art's ears perk up at the conversation and you try and ignore him again. "I think we're just going for drinks, nothing special." You say softly. "and then back to his? I'm so jealous, he's so fucking hot. I can't believe he just asked you out." You tried to hold back a wince when she said it. You didn't mean for Art to find out about it, at all. Definitely didn't want him to find out like this. He didn't say anything. You didn't want to look at him and you didn't know when he was looking at you. "You should wear that black dress you wore a few weeks ago... and those boots, you'd look so hot!" Your friend continued but you had already withdrawn from the conversation. You knew that outfit worked because Art wanted to take you to the nearest empty room when he saw you wearing it. "I'll text you later, let you know how it goes." You left the conversation. Art stood, making small talk with your friends.

It was around half past 8 when you were getting ready. You were stupidly nervous. You didn't really go on dates, especially with people you didn't know. And you hadn't heard from Art all day long which made you nervous. You didn't want to hurt Art, you didn't know if Art was hurt. He was sensitive so you could only assume that he was sulking in his room. There was a knock at your door as finished fixing your make up. You looked at yourself in the mirror before answering the door. "Hi Art, what are you doing here?" He looked at your face for a moment before letting your eyes gaze over your body. Your curvy hips and cleavage was on show, dress hitting just above your thighs. Art thought you looked perfect. "Are you not going to invite me in?" Art smiled at you. "uhh... actually I'm just getting ready to go out." You were confused. Had he not heard the conversation earlier? You watched him as he followed you into your room. "Yeah, I know... I just thought I could convince you to stay here." He was being very confident, somewhat dominant which he normally isn't it. "Art, cmon." He sat on the bed as he watched you putting your earring in. "Cmon what?" You stood in front of him as he ran his hands on the outside of your thigh. "tell me, you don't want to cancel on him and stay here with me." You were biting your lip as he touched your thighs. "Art..." His hands rubbed up your body to your hips as he pulled you closer, separating his legs, allowing you to stand in between them.

He starts by kissing your stomach. He looks up at you as he pulls your dress up your thighs slowly, his kiss moving slowly down your body. "You know he can't make you feel as good as I can..." he continued to kiss down your body before placing his kiss on your underwear. Your hands were in his hair, rubbing his head, encouragingly. He started to pull you down your underwear as he guided you to the bed. "Art, he's going to be here soon." He just smiled as he started kissing your neck and his hands started rubbing your clit, dipping his fingers into you as you moan against him. "Good, he can hear how good I make you feel." He started to bite at your collar bone, trying to leave a mark. "Artttt..." you almost moaned. "Thats it, say my name, say who you belong to." He moved his fingers faster until you were begging for him to fuck you. Art was really playing a very good game, making you moan, making you a mess underneath him. "You're so good." He swiftly moved his boxers down and allowed his cock to bounce free as he rubbed it against your wetness. He started to push himself inside of you, inch by inch as you moaned. He kissed your mouth, passionately before moving his kiss back to your neck, down to your chest where he pulled your dress down so your breasts were exposed. He started sucking, licking and biting on your nipples as he slammed into you. "Art, fuck I'm gonna cum." You moaned as he quickened his pace. "That's it, good girl, cum on my cock, cum for me, you're all mines." He moaned as he switched between kissing you and playing with your nipples. "you're so good, fuck, you feel so good." He couldn't stop as he started to fill you the second you let your orgasm go. He continued to kiss you and move the hair out of your face. "You're literally so gorgeous." He whispered in your ear as he held his cock inside of you. "when are you finally going to admit that you were made for me?" he kissed your neck. You sighed. "Art, you know..." Art kissed you again. "Don't do this, whatever your worries are about me, we can do it, together. I want you. All of you and you want me, very clearly." He kept your gaze as he held you. "It's all of me or none of me, I'm not playing seconds." The words hurt you and you got a brief moment to think about this being the last time, that the other option was no Art in your life. "I'm happy to wait." He pulled himself away and walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

You were alone for just a moment. You didn't want you and Art to be over. But you thought you knew how you felt, what you wanted but everything Art said and did, just made your heart hurt. You wanted him. You needed him. When you thought he was mad at you, you felt weak and now he's here. Saying it's him or nothing. You thought you had the power, always telling him no to a relationship but being faced without Art, you didn't want to do it. The thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Shit. Your date. This was your sink of swim moment.

Art popped his head out of the bathroom. "should i hide in the bathroom or tell him to go away?" Art was topless looking down at you with just his boxer shorts on. "Tell him to go away, then take your shorts back off?" His face almost lit up. "So you're finally gonna be my girl?" You smirked at him and rolled your eyes. "I'm all yours Donaldson."

[widow-tarot]

MINI PAC READING: What Would They Tell You If They Could? (Romance)

GROUPS: 1 - 2 - 3 4 - 5 - 6

You can always tip me! - paypal.me/sadwidow

If you want to support me, please reblog!

Instruction: Think about your person while choosing a group. Do not use more than 1 group for one person. Just to remind you, this is only for entertainment purposes.

If you don't feel drawn to any group, then this reading is not for you.

GROUP 1

Cards: Ace of Wands, Knight of Wands rx, Wheel of Fortune rx, I Like You, Girl Talk rx, Pond, Archangel Metatron.

I like you. I know it's straightforward, but I cannot say it in any other way that's more meaningful or more direct. It might not sound meaningful but it is to me (I hope it is to you too). I feel there is a spiritual connection between us and it seems no matter what, we keep coming back to each other. Our connection is like a pond; can be insignificant to others but to us, it holds so much life and secrets but it can easily be destroyed if not cultivated. We are so hot and cold; we like each other, then we hate each other over something trivial (we both don't know what exactly annoyed us). I want to move towards you but things are holding me back. There's so much I want to do and say but I'm standing still. I know we will truly come together someday. No one knows about it because I don't share those feelings with friends. It seems too private and sacred.

SONGS:

Eric by Mitski ("Take off my clothes and watch me move; You can come closer, I'll let you hurt me; But how long, how long can we play this way?; I'm tired, I'm tired of not loving you"

Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey ("Ours a love I held tightly; Feeling the rapture grow; Like a flame burning brightly; But when she left; Gone was the glow")

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby by Cigarettes After Sex ("Whispered something in your ear; It was a perverted thing to say; But I said it anyway; Made you smile and look away; Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby; As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine")

GROUP 2

Cards: 9 of Pentacles, 2 of Pentacles, 7 of Cups, Noose rx, Mushrooms, The Snake, Hammer rx, Seraphim Seraphisa rx.

You will forever be in my heart and mind, but we can never be together in the way we want. There are way too many blockages and I do think we are not fit to be in a relationship. I am in a committed relationship (or you are) and I do not wish to leave her for I love her. Maybe I am a coward, but I am a practical and cautious one. I will not take reckless actions just to wake up one day and regret it. I think what we have is a fantasy, pleasant make-believe, daydreaming. However, I don't want you gone because you're an important person to me. I wish you happiness but I can't follow you.

SONGS:

Lonesome Love by Mitski ("I call you, to see you again; So I can win, and this can finally end")

Blue Banisters by Lana Del Rey ("She said, "You can't be a muse and be happy, too; You can't blacken the pages with Russian poetry and be happy"; And that scared me; 'Cause I met a man who said he'd come back every May;Just to help me if I'd paint; Now when weather turns to May; All my sisters come to paint")

Flash by Cigarettes After Sex ("I'm a flash; You were blinded by the love I had; I'm a flash; The light could only get in through the cracks")

GROUP 3

Cards: The Hierophant rx, 8 of Wands, The Devil, 10 of Swords rx, Wildflowers, Mirror, Keys on a Ring, Archangel Raphael.

You are the temptation, the chaos in my life, the wildflowers that can still be growing but can also be already taken by someone else while I wasn't looking. You're untouchable, unable to be caught, translucent. One minute you're here only to leave seconds later just to come back and stay for a long time. You're unpredictable, a sin worth sinning for. But I hate to be alone and you make me sad. I love to see you but I hate myself when you leave. I don't know if you have any feelings for me; is it something serious or is it just casual and convenient? I can't do this anymore, I'm trapped and I feel miserable. I wish I could tell you to stay away, to abandon me, to never come back. It would be easier for me to move on then but I am a fool for you. I wish I was strong enough to talk things through but I'd rather have some of you than none of you. Then again, being with you hurts me so what should I do?

SONGS:

Should've Been Me by Mitski ("Relive all the ways you still want me; I haven't given you what you need; You wanted me but couldn't reach me; I'm sorry it should've been me"

Blue Jeans by Lana Del Rey ("I will love you till the end of time; I would wait a million years; Promise you'll remember that you're mine; Baby, can you see through the tears?; You went out every night; And, baby, that's alright; But when you walked out that door; A piece of me died")

Ambien Slide by Cigarettes After Sex ("Take my love with some pretend; You said you couldn't help it; Had everything that you wanted; When my love was something yours; But now you're feeling helpless")

GROUP 4

Cards: Death, Page of Pentacles rx, The Chariot rx, Archangel Sammael, Eileen Chang rx, Boat rx, Engagement Ring rx.

I don't want to try to fix this thing between us anymore, it's a fool's errand. We tried and it didn't work, it's time to move on to something else because we are just wasting our time and I'm exhausted. Let me go. Let me leave, peacefully. I don't want to fight but I'm frustrated. I think we tried to escape the inevitable but at the end of the road, we cannot pretend any longer. Relieve me of this burden and don't resent me.

SONGS:

Working For The Knife by Mitski ("I always thought the choice was mine; And I was right, but I just chose wrong")

Bel Air by Lana Del Rey ("Gargoyles standing at the front of your gate; Trying to tell me to wait; But I can't wait to see you; So I run, like I'm mad, to heaven's door; I don't wanna be bad; I won't cheat you no more")

Tejano Blue by Cigarettes After Sex ("We wanted to fuck with real love; Wanted it sweet, so pure and warm; And when you say you want it all, I know you want it all; Baby, take it all from me; I always will make it feel like you were the last one; So get in the waves like it was the first time")

GROUP 5

Cards: The Star rx, 7 of Pentacles, 10 of Swords rx, Glove rx, The Phoenix, Paradise rx, Archangel Haniel.

I wish we could start anew, without any bitter history between us that holds us back and clouds our judgment. We cannot fully be together while all these thoughts are troubling us, making us suspicious of each other and insecure. I know we both lost hope for this connection, yet we are still going and proceeding with it in any way we can. We don't want this to be over but we need to find a solution. I want you in my life and I'm willing to put work into it. Are you? Someone needs to make the first step though and it's the most difficult thing to do. We cannot stay still for much longer though. We communicate telepathically but we also have to communicate in real life.

SONGS:

First Love/Late Spring by Mitski ("Please hurry leave me; I can't breathe; Please don't say you love me; One word from you and I would; Jump off of this ledge I'm on; Tell me "don't" so I can crawl back in")

Video Games by Lana Del Rey ("It's you, it's you, it's all for you; Everything I do; I tell you all the time; Heaven is a place on earth with you; Tell me all the things you wanna do; It's better than I ever even knew; They say that the world was built for two; Only worth living if somebody is loving you")

Goodbye Mr Blue by Father John Misty (" But maybe if he'd gone sooner; Could've brought us back together last June; When the last time was our last time; If only then I knew; The last time was our last time; Would've told you that the last time comes too soon")

GROUP 6

Cards: Page of Swords rx, 9 of Cups rx, 4 of Swords, Sappho, Archangel Chamuel, Cupid's Arrow rx, Separation rx.

Do you love me? You say you do why does your love cause so much pain? Why am I in agony instead of being elated and happy? Is this how you show your love? I feel neglected and manipulated. I feel ignored and mocked. Am I your partner or your pet? Do you even care what I want? Do you care what I have to say? You treat me as a child as if I cannot think or decide for myself. Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think so lowly of me? When you're not here, I don't miss you and my mind is at ease. I lost all hope for anything to change. It hurts even more because I love you, but your love is weird and dysfunctional. I feel trapped. I even stopped speaking my mind because it was met with ridicule and anger.

SONGS:

Wife by Mitski ("For if I am not yours, what am I?; I daydream I'd give one a name of my own; For even I am on loan; For even mine is unknown; So let me go towards the morning star; With hope it won't disappear;)

Carmen by Lana Del Rey ("Baby's all dressed up, with nowhere to go; That's the little story of the girl you know; Relyin' on the kindness of strangers; Darlin', darlin', doesn't have a problem; Lyin' to herself, 'cause her liquor's top shelf; It's alarmin', honestly, how charmin' she can be; Foolin' everyone, tellin' 'em she's havin' fun")

Hot by Cigarettes After Sex ("Is it all in my head? 'Cause I keep getting scared; That I'll always be lost forever; But I don't give a shit if I'm too delicate; When you hold me, it's always better")

[luna-azzurra]

have you got anything about people who meet later but have had a bad past

When two people meet again later in life after having a rough history, it’s like all those old emotions and unresolved issues hit them at once. No matter how much time has passed, that past they share is still there, just beneath the surface. Maybe they were best friends, or even something more, and something went really wrong. Whether it was a betrayal, a misunderstanding, or just life pulling them apart, that kind of history doesn’t disappear easily.

When they finally meet again, it's awkward. They’ve both grown and changed in their own ways, but seeing each other brings everything back. One might have become colder, more guarded because of what happened, while the other might have tried to move on but still feels hurt. It's like they’re the same people, but also not. The tension between them is real, every conversation feels heavy, like there’s so much they’re not saying but both of them feel it.

They might try to be civil, pretend like the past doesn’t matter anymore, but it keeps coming up. Maybe there’s anger that never really went away, or guilt that’s been eating at one of them. Even if they want to move forward, there’s all this unresolved stuff between them that makes it hard to let go. They know exactly how to push each other’s buttons, sometimes without even meaning to, because they’ve known each other so well before.

Even if they act like they’ve moved on, deep down, the emotions are still there. One of them might still hold onto the hurt or the resentment, while the other just wants to fix things but doesn’t know how. Sometimes, old feelings like love or regret can bubble up, even when they don’t expect it. It’s complicated because they’ve both lived separate lives since, but that connection, even with all the pain, is still strong.

The story isn’t just about their reunion, it’s about everything that wasn’t said or fixed before. Seeing each other again forces them to confront things they’ve buried for a long time. Whether they’ll be able to work through it, or if the past is just too messy to get over, is what keeps the tension going. There’s always that possibility of reconciliation, but it’s never easy, especially when their past is full of hurt and unresolved feelings.