What You Won’t Ever Find (Kidd x Reader)
Part Five
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
Content Warning: nsfw, modern!AU, suggestive language, unhealthy attachment
Content Description: gn!reader meets Kidd in a bar and their relationship develops from there ♡
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
You woke much later in the morning than usual, an indication of how drained you’d been from the turbulent night before. You were hesitant to reach for your phone, anxious as to what would be waiting for you. As you considered what seemed to be endless possibilities, your mind wandered to the conversation you’d had with Hip on the way home. In the clarity of a new day, you debated the efficacy of him leading you on and if you really had fallen victim to the wishful thinking that things were any different between the two of you than they’d been with his other partners.
Needing something to break you from the spiraling of your mind, you defaulted to checking your notifications. You weren’t exactly settled on your expectations, but hundreds of missed calls and texts from Kidd wasn’t what you’d imagined at all. It was obvious that many of them were sent while he was still inebriated, the overwhelming majority containing jumbled letters and parts of words with very little coherency. The most recent message was sent only a few hours prior, hoping that you’d made it home safely and that he felt like an ass for how he treated you.
It wasn’t the most refined apology, but it was an apology that was genuine by his standards. Much of your lingering anger had dissipated as you slept and while you didn’t want to relent so easily as his behavior was admittedly ridiculous, you also couldn’t deny the intensifying feeling of need as you thought about his innumerable attempts to contact you through the night. Resolving not to have the much needed discussion over text, you simply replied that you hoped he wasn’t too sick when he woke up. Not even a minute later, your phone buzzed in your hand with an incoming call from Kidd himself.
“Hey… Are you, uh… alright?”, his voice was gravely and sounded incredibly groggy.
“I’m fine.”, you tried to maintain at least a little bit of a chip on your shoulder, “I know that I at least feel better than you do.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty fucked up at the moment but that’s not why I called.”, he replied, carefully considering how he should address the obvious issue at hand, “I was wondering if you’d be alright with me coming over? I was such an asshole last night… We can talk about it or you can beat my ass, whatever’ll make you feel better.”
You did your best to stifle the giggle that broke past your lips. This wasn’t a laughing matter but you couldn’t deny that just talking to him with some semblance of normalcy was cathartic. You’d never experienced something like this before, the dichotomy of him exploding on you only to turn around and be so sweet about his indiscretions was clouding your judgement. He’d disrespected your boundaries and ruined what was supposed to be a fun night out which was cause for a much needed conversation about how something like that can never happen again, but you so desperately wanted to return to how great things were prior to the previous night.
“Alright, that’s fine.”, you replied simply, yearning for him to be at your doorstep already but not yet wanting your affection to be known, “Be careful and I’ll see you when you get here.”
He thanked you, which was admittedly comical, and ended the call to get himself presentable enough to face you. You waited for him very impatiently, an unwanted feeling of remorse creeping through your stomach as you thought over last night’s events for the thousandth time. His sudden change in demeanor was a lot to process and while you knew it was unacceptable, you found yourself making excuses for him. The situation was contextualized much differently after Hip informed you of what had happened with his last partner. You knew that he was interested you to at least some meaningful degree, but he could’ve very well still been struggling with grief.
You practically ran to the door when you heard knocking, pausing yourself for just a moment in an attempt to make it seem like you hadn’t been anticipating his arrival. Swinging the door open, you were greeted by a very fatigued Kidd. He’d brought pizza for the two of you with something wrapped very poorly in packing paper sitting on top of the boxes. His face softened when you greeted him, the sharpness of his golden eyes and the ghastly scars that littered his face were adorned in stark contrast to his expression. He wordlessly kicked off his shoes and placed the food on the small table sat just in front of your couch. When he turned back around, the two of you just looked at each other as he searched for any sign of emotion on your face.
He wasn’t used to this, especially not after having one of his blowups. He’d fully expected to walk into you telling him how much of a fuck up he was and how much better other people treated you. In fact, your calm demeanor was exponentially more anxiety inducing for him as he couldn’t gauge your thoughts or feelings. He was undoubtedly grateful that you’d even replied to him in the first place, but he was still waiting for what he’d resolved to be an inevitable fight. Nothing could’ve prepared him for the moment that you opened your arms to him, motioning your hands inward to signify that you wanted a hug. He was beyond floored and felt something akin to sadness plant an excruciatingly heavy weight in his chest. As his strong arms wrapped themselves around you, you rested your head against him to get as close as possible.
You felt your eyes begin to burn as you settled in his embrace and despite your best attempts to prevent yourself from being unnecessarily emotional, you sobbed against him. He felt even worse now than he did when he’d woken up and fully realized what he’d done, this was not at all what he’d imagined or prepared himself for. He took a few steps back and brought you both down to rest on the couch, feeling his own eyes begin to sting while he did his best to comfort you. Just as quickly as your tears had formed and fell, they subsided and your breathing returned to normal. As much as you relished being against him, you also didn’t want to suffocate him or overburden an already intense meeting. When you released your grip in order to sit up straight, he tightened his hold and peppered kisses to your forehead.
“I’m so sorry, (Y/N). You didn’t deserve that… I don’t even know why the fuck I acted like that.”, he started to explain himself, all the while keeping you pressed against him, “It’s not an excuse… I think I drank too much, too fast. It hit me all at once and it was my own damn fault.”
“I’m sorry too, Kidd. I-“, you started to reciprocate, only to have him shush you.
“Don’t fuckin’ apologize, I’m the dickhead here.”, you couldn’t help but crack a grin at his choice of words, always rough but so characteristic of him, “You can slap me, punch me, whatever you feel like you need to do, I deserve it.”
“I don’t want to slap you and I don’t want to punch you, just hearing you apologize is enough.”, you tilted your head to face him, “Thank you for coming to talk, I was worried I’d never hear from you again after all of that… Let’s just move on from it.”
He stared down at you very intently, perplexed as to why you’d be so quickly forgiving of something so awful. It wasn’t like he wanted you to be upset and he certainly didn’t want to fight, but that was the only way these things had ever gone for him in the past. He wasn’t used to someone being so willingly accepting of his flaws and it was jarring. He sat up after a moment, retrieving the wrapped item that rested on the top of the pizza boxes.
“This is for you.”, he placed the haphazardly packaged item in your hands, “I wanted to do something a little more than just bringing food so I made it for you.”
As you unraveled the crumpled brown paper, a flower welded out of wire, nuts, and bolts slid into your hand. Your heart swelled as you pictured him hunkered over a workbench, sick from partying the night before but wanting to make something that he thought you’d like. You clutched the metal daisy and flung your arms around his neck, spontaneously kissing him on the lips as a way to show how much you loved his gift.
“It’s so cute, I love it so much.”, you praised, the reddening of his ears and cheeks not going unnoticed.
“It’ll never wilt.”, he commented while refusing to meet your eyes, embarrassed at how sappy his little visit had become, “Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”
You retrieved drinks and plates for the two of you, opting to put some music on to fill the silence in the room. As order returned to your relationship, you couldn’t help but compare Kidd’s actions to the warning Hip had given you. If he were really leading you on, why would he have gone as far as to spend time handcrafting you an item out of materials that would’ve otherwise been put to greater use in his work? Kidd sighed in contentment after getting full, pulling you away from the pit of your thoughts.
“I have a hard time dealing with things sometimes.”, he blurted out, slightly surprising you as you thought that part of the conversation was over, “I don’t really know what it is and I’m not trying to make excuses, I just fuckin’ struggle sometimes… I always know when it’s coming and I hate that feeling.”
“I hope that you never have to feel that way again but if you do, maybe you can let me know next time. I’d do anything that I could to help you through it… this might be a little soon and you don’t have to say it back, but I love you.”, you admitted to him, allowing yourself to be vulnerable alongside him, “I don’t ever want something like that to be our end, I think I’d work through just about anything you needed us to.”
“Going all soft on me now, huh?”, he teased, not able to contain the prideful smile on his face as he squeezed you against him, “I love you too, (Y/N)… Thank you for this.”
“Ugh, quit thanking me and rub my back already.”, you teased next, wanting to continue lifting the heavy weight of the afternoon.
“Oh, I see how it is.”, he rolled his eyes while massaging his fingertips into your tense muscles, “You tell me you love me just to have me wrapped around your finger.”
“That’s right.”, you giggled, “So, did Killer have a good time?”
“Hell, he was sicker than I was this morning.”, Kidd laughed a bit, “He had a great time, but I don’t think he remembers much of it.”
As you relaxed underneath Kidd’s hands, head planted on his warm chest, you thought about the intense dissonance that separated your time with him the night prior and your time with him now. You couldn’t wait to wake up in his arms, reveling in his sleepy voice and messy hair. You loved those soft and insignificant moments with him, they might’ve been short lived but they always felt like you were seeing the core of Kidd as a person. Despite your undeniably strong affection for him, Hip’s concerns remained in the background. You fought against them and tried to push them away as the situation seemed to be bettering itself but a small, more logistical part of you begged to remind you of how quickly things could take a turn again.
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
A/N: Thank you for reading! All characters presented in the story have been caricatured to fit the desired plot devices. Some interactions and situations may read out of character, this is only to progress the story and does not reflect my view of their canon personalities.
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
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Enemies/rivals to lovers??? Lots of sexual tension and teasing between Paige and reader…..maybe even some jealous/possessive Paige in the mix
-🧞♀️
hi!! thanks for being my first request sorry it took so long, I hope you like this mini drabble and please let me know if you’d like to see it turn into a full blown fic.
I feel that enemies to lovers would totally suit this girl, she is not shy to speak her mind and you best believe she will make smart comments if you piss her off. Paige is friendly with most, you are not most though. To her, you are the whiney girl from chem who can’t seem to understand how to keep their mouth shut. To her, you are the girl who always steals her seat in class when you know damn well she’s been sitting there for the past two months. To Paige, you are the bane of her existence— forever reminding her how much she cannot stand you.
Whenever she walks past you in the halls, she never fails to “accidentally” bump your shoulder. You respond with a snarky comment or if you’re feeling extra bitchy, an extended leg to trip her— especially if she’s carrying heavy textbooks.
Your friends mess with you all the time, asking you when you were going to kiss her already. You’d scoff at the thought of even kissing the dumb blonde, you couldn’t stand her big ego having self. If there was any excuse to keep you away from her, you’d already used it at least twice. It was comical the serious beef you had with this girl considering you’d never had a full conversation with her in the two years you’d known of her. The distaste for each other was born through nasty looks and petty behavior.
It isn’t until one odd interaction between the stupid blonde and yourself that you notice a shift in your dynamic. Paige had gotten so used to seeing you mess with her in the pettiest of ways that it had become a part of her daily routine, so when you had traded your attention to somebody else— she felt a sourness in her stomach she did not like at all.
Suddenly you were walking hand in hand with some stupid football jock in a jersey that didn’t match hers. This jersey read a last name not even close to hers. Paige couldn’t decipher why she even cared whose jersey you wore, she hardly even spoke to you— and yet, she couldn’t stop herself from cornering you one day after class in the hallway, away from the others.
“What’s the matter with you?” The blonde huffed, staring down at you.
You attempted to step away but she smacked her hands against the wall on either side of you, caging you in. Her cologne smelled good, a little too good, making you slightly dizzy.
“What the hell are you doing?” You furrowed your brows, shoving her chest.
Paige gripped the collar of the stupid jersey you were wearing, “What the fuck is this?”
Finally, you understood, “Oh. That’s what this is about?”
A smirk broke out on your face, glossy lips ghosting her ear as you leaned forward. Your sweet perfume was intoxicating, pulling the blonde in closer to grab your hip with a menacing grip. You even tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear to make sure she heard what you had to say.
“You wanna know whose jersey this is?” You teased a kiss under her ear, leaving behind a glossy stain, “It belongs to the person that I’ve been fucking for the past couple weeks— and you know what? They fuck me so, so fucking good. Better than you ever could, blondie.”
Paige grunted, blood boiling at the thought of somebody else touching you. Despite never really getting along with you, she had never wanted anything more than to kiss you right then and there. Perhaps this whole time she had confused her annoyance with you for attraction. Your brattiness and pettiness enticed her to punish you, she wanted so badly to see you begging for an ounce of her touch. She wanted to see your teary eyes glancing up at her as she tormented you, bringing you to the point of complete submission.
“You’ll be begging for me to fuck you before you know it.” She nudged her knee in between your thighs, eliciting a gasp from you.
“In your dreams.” You scoffed, squirming away before walking away leaving the blonde utterly confused and wanting more.
Paige watched as you excited the building, the scent of your perfume lingering in the air around her leaving her with the hunger for more. She would have you, sooner or later— she’d make sure of it.
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Poker Face!
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Spencer Reid x Reader
:: It’s game night at Rossi’s, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emily’s place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::
:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda you’re playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...
:: authors’ notes :: i didn’t realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, he’s literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3
WC~ 3.1 k
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“Ok, ok! That’s enough!” Emily shouted, swinging her glass around.
“Careful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,” Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him.
“You guys are relentless,” she continued.
“I can beat him, I know it!” you shouted, your eyes comically wide.
“No shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?” Derek commented.
“I may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,” you argued.
“Honey, you’ve lost eight games in a row!” JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach.
“Nevermind that! I’m gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.
“I hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but I’m kicking you out. It's late and an old man’s got to get some rest,” Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of ‘Boo’s’ and groans.
“Come on, come on. Call your DD’s, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,” he bargained.
Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles.
“I assume you’re gonna take a cab?” he asked you.
“That’s the plan.”
“So we can share since I don’t live far from you. I’ll walk from your place,” he suggested.
“Oh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,” you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, “We’re going to your place and finishing what we started.”
“Oh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. We’re gonna be up all night!” Spencer laughed, and you gasped.
“You’re an asshole,” you shoved him, before calling a taxi.
You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, you’ve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldn’t? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice.
You walked into Spencer’s apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasn’t going to cheat. You knew he wasn’t, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead.
“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked from the kitchen.
“Whatcha you got?” you asked.
“I’ve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,” he told you.
“Oh! Bring the wine! We’ll drink the beers later,” you winked at him, “Let’s get the fucking party started.”
It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times you’d lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldn’t stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope.
“Ooh,” you cooed, mischievously.
“What?” Spencer questioned.
“Oh, nothing, just had an idea,” you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter.
“This can’t be good,” he mumbled, shaking his head.
“Why don’t we spice things up, shall we?”
“No, no way,” Spencer already knew what you were going to say.
“Strip Poker!”
“No!” he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.
“What, you scared? Scared that suddenly I’m starting to beat you and you’re gonna have to take all your clothes off?” you teased.
“No, I am a gentleman and I’m not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,” he argued sassily.
“You are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re just chicken.”
“Ok, fine then. You dealer, or am I?” he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup.
“Why don’t you hit me this time,” you said.
“You got it,” he responded, “Care to shuffle while I grab the beers?”
“Of course. About time we crack those open,” you smiled widely.
Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldn’t help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesn’t know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe he’s always felt this way about you.
Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent.
Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.
But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didn’t know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.
“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer’s breath hitched.
You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow.
“What? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?”
“No,” he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again.
“I swear to-” you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.
Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didn’t, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat.
Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly.
“We don’t have to keep going,” Spencer cleared his throat.
“And why would I do that?” Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can.
“Ok, then,” he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.
Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and you’d hit blackjack, or you could build up; but that’s risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasn’t your fault he was distracted.
“Hit me,” you egged.
“You got it,” he responded.
A five. Fuck.
Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him.
“One more time, boy wonder,” you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts.
“I stand,” he mutters, probably knowing he lost.
“Let’s see those cards, baby,” you teased.
“You first,” he told you, and placed your cards.
“Blackjack, baby!”
Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering.
“I did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!” you shouted taunting him and he couldn’t help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment.
“I- I was distracted,” he shuttered.
“Damn right you were,” you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face.
“It wasn’t fair game,” he bantered.
“It wasn’t fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and you’re being a sore loser,” you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue.
Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath.
“I told you, I was distracted,” he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear.
“Blah, blah,” you whispered.
“Don’t give me that.”
“Now, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?” you whispered.
“What’s that?” he bantered.
“You lost.”
“Right, unfairly I might add,” he joked.
“If all you’re gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,” you told him.
“Be my guest.”
Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.
“I thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,” he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.
“Like that’s gonna happen,” you rolled your eyes playfully.
Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek.
He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him.
You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort.
“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he told you.
“Let me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?” you taunted him.
“God, no. I couldn’t wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,” he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you.
You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldn’t help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully.
You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.
“Oh jeez, I feel like I could come already,” you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencer’s cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t realize you craved so much until this very moment.
“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the same,” he chuckled breathlessly, “If you don’t start moving, I’m not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.”
You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencer’s hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and that’s when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencer’s small apartment.
“Shit. You feel so good,” he breathed out, “I thought I’d last longer.”
“Please, please don’t come yet,” you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencer’s name dripped from your lips like honey.
“Oh, that’s it,” Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that your’s wasn’t also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers.
“I’m close, fuck I’m so close, Spence,” you whined.
“Let go, sweetheart.”
“Ngh!” you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the other’s breath and slowly you began to match each other’s erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencer’s one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you.
When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you.
“That was really good,” you giggled.
“It really was,” he agreed.
“I’m gonna tell everyone about this,” you whispered wickedly.
“What?” Spencer questioned fearfully.
“I beat you in Blackjack,” you reminded him, making him laugh loudly.
“Give it a rest you would?” he sighed.
“No way. I’m gonna tell everyone. And everyone’s gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,” you teased.
“Alright, you won fair and square,” he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.
You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever.
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