#Agent Booth x reader
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Can you please do one with Seeley Booth with the writing prompt being 0.7 (“he's not my boyfriend” - “I think you better tell him that” - “what?” - “only love makes you that crazy”) tumblr is starting to run dry on bones imagines and I think you would make a great story with this prompt. Please?
In the name of love (Seeley Booth)
Paring: Seeley Booth x Hodgins!Reader
Prompt: 0.7) “he's not my boyfriend” - “I think you better tell him that” - “what?” - “only love makes you that crazy”
A/n: sorry this took so long and that is got pretty long. Also I had to switch the roles in the prompt for it make since.
MasterList
In the end I couldn't really tell you how we ended up in this situation, all battered up and in fear what the Bureau would say when they find out me and Lance let the perp go. But most of all I was afraid what Seeley would say when he saw the both of us. I got the shortest end of the stick, busted face and knuckles and my ribs were aching somthing fierce.
Fear in Lance's eyes only intensifies when Seeley's name pops up, trying to call me. “it's Seeley”
I hand Lance the phone so he could talk to him. “he'll know something is up if I talk to him” my voice was horse already and I was shaking from the resent beat up.
Lance gulped and took the phone to talk to Seeley while he drove through the city. “H-hey b-booth we got a situation” I sighed as Lance immediately cracked pressure. Do to the lack of music or sound in general in the car I could vaguely hear Seeley on the other side of the phone.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second. What’s going on, what the hell happened?” Seeley asked from the other side of the phone.
I quickly shook my head no at Lance as he continued to talk to Seeley through my phone. Lance gulped and continued to drive while talking to Seeley on the phone “this isn't really phone conversation material... Are you at your office?” Lance asked with a hint of nervousness.
There was silence on both ends of the phone, Lance glances over at me nervous as Seeley hesitates on the other side of the phone. “Yeah, I am. What are you talking about? And where the hell did you go? We were supposed to bring Fredrick Batmen in today”
Fredrick Batmen so that's this name, at least I know the name of the guy who put a couple of dense in me. I looked over at Lance, shaking my head. We weren't supposed go out by ourselves. We both only just got our license to carry a weapon when we assisted the FBI.
“umm...” Lance said looking at me quickly then back at the road. I threw my pounding head back on the head rest of the car as Lance continued to lose his cool.
“hang up the phone lance” I said softly so Seeley didn't hear me on his side of the phone.
“umm....” Lance said as Seeley spoke on the phone, he looked at me in a panic. Huh, I've never seen a psychologist lose their cool before.
I could hear Seeley getting frustrated on the other side of the phone “Hey, Sweets. Just tell me what the hell is going on?”
Lance took a deep breath and regained his composer “I'm almost the Bureau... I'll explain when I get there” he said through the phone to Seeley.
“No, no, no. Listen... you want to tell me what's going on and you want to tell me right now” Seeley says as bit louder, making the conversation clear to my ears.
“Umm...” Lance and I both prayed that Seeley didn't ask for me.
I could hear Seeley sigh in frustration on the other side of the phone “Come on, Sweets, you are starting to piss me off here.”
“This is something you don't want to hear on the phone and as a psychologist I should have the right to say on behalf of your temper and mental health” Lance thought he was gonna win this conversation I on the other hand had been best friends with Seeley for a long time and I knew Seeley doesn't give up especially if phycology gets thrown in.
“Yes... He definitely gonna listen now” I sighed as I wrapped a hankerchief tighter around my bloody nuckles. “we're doomed” I mumbled as I heard Seeley saying Lance shouldn't bring up phycology now. I thanked God when Lance got closer to the Bureau.
Seeley then started shouting at Lance, which was rare thing for him rase his voice at me or Lance. “you are making this worse! Just tell me what is going on right now!”
I slapped my forehead in frustration, as much as I cared for lance and he was indeed like a little brother he was being pretty stupid. “For Pete's sake” I sighed and weakly snatched the phone “Seeley! Hey buddy, like Lance said we're on our way and you making Lance nervous isn't helping the situation... I'm gonna hang up now and we'll fill you in when we get to your office”
“No, no, no. Don't hang up!” Seeley started, he then hesitates. “I know you are hiding something, I can tell by your tone. Just tell me what the hell is going on so I can stay calm”
“Just stay calm anyway” I said softly and hung up the phone before Seeley could protest anymore. I hung up the phone and looked at Lance “your terrible at lying, especially to Seeley” I sighed as Lance pulling into the Bureau's parking lot.
“sorry” Lance mumbles as he puts the car in park. I winced at the pain in my ribs when I tried to clime out of the car. I sighed and slouched back in the passenger seat, it felt like dozens of kitchen knives beening stabed into my side.
I terned to Lance with pain in my eyes “Help me will ya?” Lance quickly nodded and climed out of the car, racing to the passenger door. “easy, easy” Lance mumbles as he slowly helped me out of the car and supported me by puting on of my arms on his shoulder as we both slowly walked into the FBI building to Seeley's office.
Lance walked me to Seeley's office and enters without knocking. With the windows suronding the door of the office Seeley could see us limping in before we even entered the small room.
Seeley quickly shot up from his office chair and raced to the both of us “What the hell happened to you, n/n?” asked softly as he helped Lance set me down in the leather chair infront of his desk.
“Oh you know the usual” I winced when I tried to relax in the chair. “I'm gonna get the first-aid kik” Lance quickly said and left to get the supplies from his office.
Seeley leaned against his desk, standing in between the chair I was seeing in and his desk. Fear plastered his face as he stared down at me “what the hell happened to you?” you could tell he was trying not to freak out, which was an emotion he hated having.
Lance quickly came back to Seeley's office and handed the first-aid kit to Seeley. “thanks Sweets, I got this” he said motioning that he's clean up my cuts himself. Lance nodded and gently padded my shoulder before he left.
I sighed and looked a Seeley, I took a deep breath and started to explain everything. “me and Lance left to get the guy in custody, the Batmen dude... We got in a fight and he got away” I looked down at my busted knuckles as tears pooled my eyes, it stinged when I rubbed my hands together nervously “I'm sorry I let him get away” a tear fell done my cheek quicker then I lost my cool.
Seeley's eyes softened as he knelt infront of the chair I was setting in, he gently takes my bloodied hand in his massive ones. “it's okay” he whispered softly she wipe a splatter of blood off my chin. “Don't worry about that. I'm just glad you two are alright. We'll catch him another time. It's okay.”
I looked up as his soft eyes and let out a shaky breath. I could tell he was hiding his anger as he cleaned my cuts. I knew he wasn't mad at me but at the guy we've been chasing, I could see his jaw clinching as he cleaned up my face with the stuff from the first-aid kit “I'm sorry Seel” I mumbled again.
Seeley take's my chin and slowly lifts my head so we're looking at each other. “It. Is. Not. Your. Fault. You. Hear. Me?” he said, making tears prick my eyes once they met his brown ones.
Seeley softly smiled and wiped the tears runing down my face “It's going to be okay. I promise. How bad are you hurt?”
I didn't want to worry him anymore, so I shook my head and nervously chewed on my busted lip. Seeley gently pulled my bottom away from my teeth as I responded “not bad”
Seeley smirks softly but still gives me a 'yeah right' look “You have blood on your shirt, blood on your face, bruises on your face. I mean Lance is the psychologist, but I'm pretty sure that counts as bad” he said as he cleaned the cut on my forehead “Where else you hurt?” he asked again.
I tried to reassure him, but when I tried to adjust in the chair I winced when the sharp pain in my ribs came back. Out of instinct my hand fell to my waist trying to put pressure on it.
Seeley looked down as after he put a bandge on my forehead. “your rib? Is it your ribs?” he asked softly.
“Let me see” Seeley mumbled and gently lifted my shirt up just a little bit. I winced when my shirt and his fingers brushed up against it. I also couldn't help but blush when his large hands pushed my shirt up reveing my bruised body.
He sighed softly as his eyes held nothing but concern or disappointment. “yeah... you are hurt pretty bad” he look at me and all my injuries, then look down and away. You could see the red tint in his skin as the anger boiled in side him at. He was Really, Really, Angry now. Seeley sighed.
“I'm okay Seeley” I said in a serious tone, I knew he didn't believe me and honestly I didn't know if I believed me either.
“Iet me see your hands” he mumbled as he grabbed a fresh cotton ball and the bottle of alcohol. I wined softly as he cleaned my knuckles. “i know, I'm almost done” he whispered, he looked like he was trying to bottle up every negative emotion possible right now. I could only imagine what he'd do when he crosses paths with the perp.
After he cleaned my knuckles, he gently wrapped the up and then kiss my hand. I blushed at the small gesture. It felt different then the other times we've touched, I'd admit we're pretty touchy as best friends go and it was probably no secret to anyone that I had a crush on him, but I couldn't stop but melt when his lips touched me.
“Look at me, alright? Can you look at me?” Seeley asked, taking my bruised face in his hands”
“hm?” I asked, looking into his eyes.
I don't think either of us were prepared for what happened next. Seeley slowly lean in, with his hand on my cheek then kisses me on the lips softly. It took me by surprise, but once I registered what was happening I melted into the kiss, placing my bandage covered hand on his jaw as I gently deepen the kiss dispite the pain in my busted lip. I never wanted the kiss to end, but the sting in my lip made me pull apart gently.
Seeley look at me with a dopey smirk. “you don't know how long I've been waiting to do that” he whispered as he rested his forehead on mine, breathing hard. He looked at me, all bloody, swollen face, then kisses my lips again once more, softer than the first, but just as passionate. I leaned into the kiss My hands run through his hair.
“Your not gonna let me in on a case for a while, are you?” I joked as rested my forehead on his and I nuzzled my noise against his.
He shook his head, slightly smiling. “Never in a million years. I'm not letting you get hurt on my watch again.”
“guess that's what a squint gets for leaving that lab and doing FBI stuff” I joked.
Seeley chuckled and rolled his eyes. “anything eles hurting?” he asked softly as he rubbed my arms in a comforting way.
“I'm okay” I kissed his nose softly “you patched me up pretty good already” I smiled, but I couldn't hide the wince I made due to my ribs hurt after I shifted in his lap.
Seeley notices immediately. “What is it? Your ribs” he asked, I nodded softly. “It's just bruised... I'll put some ice on it or something when I get home” I said looking down.
Seeley takes my chin and our eyes locked. “y/n, I'm your best friend. So please, listen to me for a minute, okay? You hurt your ribs pretty bad today. You need to let the med techs look at you, please?” his eyes held so much plea and his voice was laced with pure desperation.
I sighed and rested my forehead on his. I kissed his lips softly and quickly. “you know I don't like doctors” I mumbled... He knew that, that's why I chose to come to him instead of the med clinic after I got beat up.
“know, n/n. I know, But It'll just a quick check-up. don't worry. Please?” he stared at me with brown puppy eyes as he softly held my face in my hands. I couldn't ignore his silently beg for me to get help at the clinic.
I rolled my eyes playfully. “I guarantee my ribs are just bruised... I'm a doctor too ya know”
“your a Forensic Entomologist... A bug girl” Seeley said in a serious tone as he helped me stand up, slowly and easy. “It's still a doctor though” my argument ended with a wince.
Seeley looks at me sternly for a moment. “Promise me, y/n, that you'll listen to the medical staff at the Bureau. Okay? Promise me.”
I sighed and looked at his brown eyes, I loved them so much. “promise....”
Seeley gently helped me walk to the door so I didn't irritate my ribs anymore. “aren't you the one who went to work with a screwed up back even though the doctor told you to stay home?” my joking tone turned into a wince when I held on to his bicep as I walked towrds the med clinic with him.
Seeley looked down and playfully rolled his eyes “Okay, you got me there... But, in my defense, I was going a little stir crazy being at home after a week.” I chuckle as he kiss me on the forehead to ease the pain.
“We're here, n/n. Let's get this over with and I'll take you home, okay?” Seeley mumbled as we exited the elevator that led us to the floor that had the med clinic.
the doctor came out of her office and smiled softly “Come on in Dr. Y/n Hodgins” she lead me and Seeley to one of the rooms, Seeley helped me up on one of the examination beds as the doctor looked at her clip board.
The doctor examined my ribs, I winced when she hit the wrong spot “a couple of your ribs are broken... But I'd like to take in x-ray” the doctor said. I looked over at Seeley and he looked angrier than before.
“I guess we'll get you an x-ray and some pain meds in ya” Seeley said. the doctor looked up and gave the both of us a soft expression.
“I'm afraid so” she looked up at Seeley “you'll have to wait in the waiting room unfortunately” the doctor told Seeley.
“okay, sure” Seeley said and then gently take my. “I'm gonna be right outside that door if you need me, okay?”
I nodded and Seeley kissed my forehead before going outside.
-------(Seeley's pov)-------
Before I exit the room, I smile at her. But then once I am out of the room, my expression turns serious as I sit down in the waiting room and anxiously await the results of her xray. I leaned forward in the chair and tapped my foot anxiously. The more I thought and tapped, the angrier I got. My jaw ticked and I covered my face with both of my hands.
“How is she?” Sweets asked, walking up to me with his hands in his pockets. I removed my hands and looked at him, I just now noticed he had a few cuts and bruise of his own, he wasn't as bad as y/n though.
“her ribs are broken, the doc is getting X-rays now.” I don't look up at Sweets as he looked just as worried. The panic in his eyes made me think about how I always thought she would choose Sweets inset of me. I never have thought she'd feel the same way I feel about her, that kiss changed everything and it couldn't have happened at a worser time.
I think Sweets could see the anger boiling inside me as I sat there. No amount of psychology could help the anger I was feeling. Sweets sighed, I knew he was hiding something. I looked up at him waiting for him to share whatever he was hiding. “they cought the guy... The guy that hurt y/n... Aubrey just brought him in” I immediately dart up from my seat, running on nothing but anger, Sweets grabed the sleeve of my suit jacket, pulling me back “don't do anything stupid” he said in serious tone. I didn't know why he said it, Sweets knew I would do it anyway.
I jerked my arm out of his grip and turned my back on him and head towrds the interrogation room. “I'm definitely gonna do something stupid” I mumbled as speed walked down the hallway.
I take a deep breath and walk into the interrogation room. I look up and see the guy, sitting across the table from me, with a huge smile on his face. He looks cocky, arrogant. I glare at him. And for a moment, I don't see what I can do to the guy. And then a smile slowly creeps across my face, He's not leaving this room. The interrogation has just begin.
“I'm getting tired of seeing you guys sniffing around my life” the guy says in a gruff tone, he gave me a creepy smirk. “expect for the girl... She was a cute little thing” he mocked as he referred to y/n. The man was twice her size, meaning he probably had no problem beating her. But that didn't mean he didn't look like hell, y/n put up one hell of a fight. His face was all busted up, worse than y/n's was and he was holding a gallon bag of ice on his groin.
When I look at the guy and I can barely contain my anger. I lean forward on the table and put my elbows on it. “Look, pal. Here's how it's gonna be. You hurt my partner, My best friend. You broke her ribs. I could care a less what you did before this. But you did this And for that, you're not gonna see the light of day ever again”
The guy just smirked and let out a laugh. “You think you scare me?” I glared at him, he just didn't understand the hole he dug himself in.
“You don't scare me, man” the guy said in a gruff voice, he leaned forward and smirked. “why get interrogated by you when I could get questioned by your cute little partner”
I scolded myself when the guy now knew y/n was my soft spot, my weakness and if he wanted to get under my skin he knew to bring her up. He knew what he did to her and he didn't care.
My jaw clintched with rage. “Hey. You shut your goddamn mouth when you speak about my partner. Do you understand?” I say, not breaking eye contact. The guy continues to smirk. He knew he was pushing my buttons and he was loving it. I can feel the anger boiling in my veins.
“She's got some fire in her and put up a good fight but it wasn't hard to get her to the ground” the guy chuckled darkly.
I stand up out of my chair. “you think you're funny, huh? I said for you to shut your goddamn mouth. I ask the question!” My hands clench into fists. I look like I am about to snap.
“If it means seeing her again I'll do it again” the guy leaned forward expressionless. “maybe next time I'll get my hand around her pretty little throat”
“I have had it.” I said threw my teeth, can't take it anymore. I grab the guy by the collar, pushing him against the wall and start to beat his face in. One, two, three punches directly to the nose and the jaw. I look into his eyes with rage and hatred. “That is for hurting my partner.”
Three more punches land on his face, making him fall to the chair in his own pool of blood. I stare at him. “That was for threatening to hurt her again.”
that's when Sweets and Bones came rushing in and separated me and the guy, I struggled in Sweets' arms trying to swing another punch towrds the guy “Booth stop” Sweets grunted as he and Bones tried to pull us apart.
I tried my hardest to get loose from Sweets' grip. “Let go of me! Let go of me!” I scream. But Sweets had a tight hold on me.
My anger had blinded me. I was out of control. “let's go” Sweets pushed me out of the interrogation room “your gonna get in a lot of trouble, you relize that?” Bones said. I didn't give a damn especially since it involved y/n.
“I don't care! I do NOT care right now. This guy was threatening to kill y/n!” I scream out, still fighting to break free from Sweet's grip “I would do it again in a heartbeat. You hear me?! You hear me?!”
“Booth, I understand your anger, but right now the best option is to calm down” Bones said calmly.
tears fall down my cheeks and anger bored in to my eyes as Sweets pushed me out of the interrogation room. My knuckles were bruised and bloody from the fight. But I didn't even notice them.
Sweets and Bones shared looks “Dr. Brennan, please tell Caroline what happened... Explain y/n was asulted and Booth acted strictly on self defense”
Bones immediately leaves the room as I continue trying to break free from Sweets “Please, Sweets. Just let me go. I don't care about the God-damned consequences. I just need to let this out. I just need to let my anger out.” I look angry but then I look sad and scared at the same time. I don't know what to feel at this point.
Sweets pushed me towards his office where he did most of his therapy sessions. I was bigger then Sweets but some how he manged to shove me into his office. “your girlfriend isn't goona like it when she leaves the med clinic and finds out you lost your FBI license because you beat a guy to death”
Sweets set down in his chair and pointed to a shelf with a bunch of books and fidget stuff. “break what you want...take your anger out”
I walk over to the shelf and grab a stress ball and a book. And then I come back to the chair. I sit down and start squeezing the stress ball. I don't say anything as I continued to squeeze the stress ball harder and harder. The stress ball is about to pop.
“she's not my girlfriend” I mumbled, as much as I wanted her to be it wasn't the time to bring it up... Even if we did kiss.
Sweets rested his cheek on his as he watches the stress ball pop in my hands “I think you better tell her that”
“what are you taking about?... What?” I asked confused as I grab another stress ball and squeeze it. I continue to squeeze the stress ball as hard as possible.
“only love makes you that crazy” Sweets replies. The stress ball popped in my head. “you said I could break stuff not get a therapy season” I said.
“Your not gonna get in trouble Booth. The guy as multiple accounts of asulting woman and now murder is on his track record... There's no fights it's our word against his” Sweet said.
I crushed another stress ball, this time I throw it on the ground in frustration. “he hurt y/n and you were making sure it never happens again... The guy already has life in prison for the murder case we were solving” Sweets says softly.
I throw my stress ball against the wall and I grab another one. I squeeze harder and harder. “But, you know I could've handled this differently” I squeeze the stress ball as hard as possible so much so that it hurts my hand. “I mean, I did not have to beat him up like that. He did not need my knuckles buried deep in his face. I could've shown restraint.” I grumbled.
“Booth, no one blames you”
“I should've handled it differently... I could've controlled my anger.” I squeeze the stress ball harder and harder to the point that my knuckles are bleeding. “I didn't do the right thing. I let my anger get the best of me” I am squeezing the stress ball so bad that I don't even realize the blood on my hand.
My phone suddenly rings, so I take out my phone and answer it. “Hey, y/n” I say, sounding worried and anxious. “Are you okay? How are you doing?”
“I'm alright, but I have to stay home for awhile because of my stupid rib... Are you okay? You sound weird” she asked through the phone worried.
“yeah, I am... What's up?”
“Can you come back to med clinic and get me please?” she asked softly, she still sounded worried though.
“Sure, no problem” I say through the phone. “Just let me finish up here and I will be right there.” I look over at Sweets. I feel guilty for taking my anger out.
“I'll be about... fifteen minutes. Okay?” I hang up the phone and immediately left Sweets office with a quick goodbye.
-------(1st pov)-------
I'm waiting for Seeley in the waiting room outside of the med clinic, as I am I stare at my pain meds with a bord expression.
“Hey n/n. How are you doing, sweetheart?” Seeley asked walking over to me slowly. I get up and wrap my arms around him, trying not to disturb my ribs. “I'm so happy to see you right now” Seeley mumbled against my shoulder.
“What happened to you?” I asked worried as I noticed his knuckles were all red and bruised. He quickly shook his head no. I gently left his arms and gave him a stern expression “what happened to your hands? And don't tell me nothing”
Seeley look down at his hands and then back up at me. “Well, I am not proud of this... But I beat up the guy that hurt you. You know, the one that broke your ribs”
I let out a deep breath and gave him a soft look. “oh Seeley” I looked at him with no judgment as I placed my bandaged covered hand over his cheek and rubbed it softly with my thumb.
Seeley nuzzles into my touch and take a deep breath and slowly open his eyes. “Look, n/n. I... I was wrong... I shouldn't have done that. I am not proud of it in any way. It just happened and I didn't think I could control it.” Seeley mumbles as tears pricked the corner of his eyes.
I quickly wipe away the tears as they fall, I kissed his forehead and wrap my arms around him, hoddling him tight not caring about my broken ribs. “Shh... It's okay” I whispered as I ran my fingers through his short hair.
“I love you” he blurts out. I leaned out of his arms and looked up into his eyes suprised. “I'm s-”
“I love you too” I whispered and pressed my lips to his, not caring if anyone saw us.
#Seeley Booth#Seeley Booth x reader#Seeley Booth imagines#Bones imagines#david boreanaz x reader#Bones TV show#Bones x reader#James Aubrey x Sister!reader#Prompts#David Boreanaz#Bones headcanons#seeley booth headcanons#Agent Booth#Agent Booth x reader#Agent Booth imagines
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i need some agent aubrey fanfictions IMMEDIATELY i need that man in a way that's concerning to feminism
#bones on fox#bones tv#agent booth#agent aubrey#james aubrey#james aubrey x reader#james aubrey imagines#james aubrey smut
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Anyone have any recommendations for Seeley Booth x reader fics? (Preferably in second person POV). Also any blogs that take requests for it. I feel like I can't find many fics for Booth x reader and I neeeeeed it. 😫😫
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An Accidental Marriage
Spencer Reid x fem! reader fluffy fluffy fluffy
Spencer Reid never thought he'd start his morning by nearly choking to death on his beloved coffee. But, then again, he also never thought he’d get accidentally married and find out about it at the same time the rest of the 6th floor at the FBI.
Yet here he was—standing in the BAU’s bullpen, coughing and sputtering as the one person he never expected to see in Virginia stormed into the room and screamed:
"DID YOU KNOW THE MARRIAGE WAS REAL?!"
Everyone seemed to freeze. The usual hum of the FBI’s elite profiling unit went completely silent as every single agent turned to stare at the scene unfolding before them.
Emily Prentiss slowly set down her mug. Luke Alvez raised an eyebrow. Tara Lewis and JJ exchanged glances. Penelope Garcia, the BAU’s self appointed gossip queen, visibly perked up like a cat spotting a canary. And Spencer? Spencer was still choking.
“Marriage?” JJ echoed, tilting her head. “Spence, is there something you’d like to share with the class?”
His childhood best friend—you—stood in front of him, arms crossed, expression half exasperated, half completely bewildered. What were you doing in Virginia? You wen't supposed to finalize your move until next month. Did he get the months wrong? He never got the months wrong but then again thinking about you always did something to his brain, he thought.
“I went to get my license updated, Spencer. My license. And do you know what I found out?” You didn’t wait for him to answer, waving an official-looking paper in front of his face. “I have been legally married for ten years and nobody thought to tell me?”
Spencer finally managed to recover, rubbing his throat before he pushed his glasses up his nose, his mind whirring. “Wait, wait, wait—how is that even possible?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Crash maybe it’s because we signed a legal document at that stupid fair years ago thinking it was a joke when it was actually real!” The moment you called him Crash, the way you had since you were kids (a nickname born from his clumsy nature and his inability to stay upright for long), something clicked in his brain.
The fair. The marriage booth.
The backup plan.
“Oh my God,” Spencer whispered.
“Oh my God is right!” you cried
Penelope practically vibrated in her seat. “Wait, wait, wait—did I just hear correctly? My favorite boy genius has been secretly married for ten years and didn’t know it?! This is better than any rom-com I’ve ever seen!”
Luke smirked. “And you never thought to check?”
“Why would I check? It's Spencer!” Penelope cried
Rossi, who had been listening with an amused expression, leaned back in his chair. “Alright, kids, humor the old man. Start from the beginning.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, and plopped into the nearest chair. Spencer sat beside you, running a hand through his hair.
“Okay,” you started. “Spencer and I grew up together in Vegas. We were best friends. Like, inseparable. Hi, by the way names Y/N and I probably know a lot about all of you.” Spencer nodded. “We met when we were six years old. Statistically, most childhood friendships don’t last into adulthood, but we were an anomaly.”
Emily waved a hand. “Cute, but get to the part where you got married.”
You rolled your eyes, not liking that people didn't like Spencers facts. “When we were kids, we made a pact. If we weren’t married by forty, we’d marry each other. You know, as a backup plan.”
JJ let out a small aw before covering her mouth.
“Then,” Spencer continued, “when we were twenty, we ran into each other while I was visiting my mom in Vegas, Y/N was supposed to be visiting her sister in California but missed her plane. There was a fair at the local community college, and we thought it would be fun to relive our childhood for a day and spend the whole day together like we used to.”
You groaned, rubbing your temples. “And that’s when we saw it. The stupid marriage booth.”
Luke frowned. “Marriage booth?”
Spencer nodded. “It was part of the fair attractions. A fake wedding setup where couples could take pictures, sign a certificate, and get one of those novelty ‘marriage’ papers. We thought it was funny—like a way to get a head start on our backup plan.”
“Turns out,” you grumbled, “since we were in Vegas, it wasn’t fake at all.” The room went silent. And then Penelope excitedly screamed.
“Oh. My. God.” Penelope clutched her chest like she was about to faint. “That is the most romantic accidental love story I have ever heard.”
Spencer shook his head. “It’s not romantic! It was a mistake.”
“I don’t know, kid,” Rossi said with a smirk. “Sounds a lot like fate to me.”
You groaned, throwing your hands in the air. “That’s exactly what the lady at the DMV said when she showed me the proof!”
Tara leaned forward. “And now what?”
You glanced at Spencer. “I guess we get it annulled.”
For some reason, the thought sent an odd pang through Spencer’s chest. Annulled? Why did the thought of getting it annulled make him want to through up?
Emily leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. “Or—” she drawled, eyes gleaming mischievously, “you could just stay married.”
“What?” you and Spencer said in unison.
Tara shrugged. “You were childhood best friends. You made a pact to marry each other if you didn’t find anyone else. Maybe this was fate stepping in early.”
“Fate,” Spencer repeated blankly.
“Oh, you cannot annul this,” Penelope gasped. “This is the most romantic accidental love story ever. Think of the story you’ll have for your grandchildren!”
Just as you were beginning to protest, agent Grant Anderson strolled into the bullpen, carrying a stack of case files. His gaze landed on you, and a charming smile spread across his face.
“Well, hello,” he said smoothly. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
You blinked at him. “Uh, no, I guess we haven’t.”
Anderson’s smile widened. “You must be new. Are you visiting, or is this a permanent thing?”
Spencer, who had been silent for a moment too long, suddenly stood up so fast his chair nearly toppled over. His jaw clenched, his normally gentle brown eyes darkening with something sharp and territorial. His hand curled around your wrist, firm but not forceful, and then—“My wife,” he said.
And before you could react, before you could process what he just said Spencer Reid—your childhood best friend, the genius who was accidentally your husband, the man you have been in love with since you knew what love was—grabbed your face and kissed you.
The bullpen erupted in cheers. Penelope squealed. JJ gasped. Emily shouted, “Go Reid!” Rossi laughed like this was the best thing he'd seen in years.
Anderson took a step back, holding up his hands. “Well. That answers that question.” When Spencer finally pulled away, you could only stare at him, breathless, heart pounding, lips tingling. “What—what was that?!” you managed. Spencer swallowed, adjusting his tie. “A leap,” he said simply. You blinked. And then, before you could stop yourself, you kissed him back. Tagging some friends because for some reason I can't find my taglist
@samuel-de-champagne-problems @boldlyvoid @milla984 @reidsaurora @reiding-and-writing
#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#dr. spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#dr reid#doctor spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic
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Bed Chem | s.reid x fem!reader



summary: Derek Morgan hits you up for you and Spencer Reid, a genius FBI agent, to connect. One things leads to another, and you both have really good bed chem.
warnings: 18+, mdni, nsfw, drinking at a bar, p in v, unprotected sex, softdom!spencer, sub!reader, use of y/n, spencer comes in reader (if im forgetting something let me know)
word count: 3.2k
authors note: felt like its been 20 years since i've posted a fic, but here ya guys go!! i love the song bed chem, so this fic is sabrina carpenter themed💋. i don't really like this, but its been sitting in my drafts for a while now so i hope you guys enjoy(the smut isnt my best work im sorry!). if you did, just remember to like and reblog:)!
Spencer Reid wasn’t the type to go to bars, but when the team had finally wrapped up a particularly exhausting case and a few of them decided to head out for a drink, he couldn’t exactly say no. He didn’t mind spending time with his colleagues, but when the plan shifted from the corner booth to the bar, he felt his nerves start to rise.
Derek Morgan had a gift for getting people out of their comfort zones, and today, he’d decided that Spencer was due for a little socialization.
Spencer sat awkwardly at the far end of the bar, sipping a glass of water, watching the team interact with ease. His eyes wandered around the room, but then they unintentionally froze when they landed on you. You were sitting with a friend near the center of the bar countertop, laughing softly at something your friend had said. There was an easy, effortless charm about you that made Spencer’s heart beat a little faster.
But, as usual, he couldn’t bring himself to approach you. His mind spun with a thousand reasons why it would be awkward— why he wasn’t the right person to start a conversation. What if you didn’t like him? What if he said something weird? What if he wasn't good looking enough for you? He ran his fingers nervously through his hair, trying to shake the unease. He tended to self-sabotage things like these.
Derek, who had been watching the entire conflict play out with a grin on his face, noticed Spencer's hesitation. He chuckled to himself, shook his head, and stood up. “I’ll handle this, pretty boy.”
Spencer glanced over, his eyes wide in disbelief and embarrassment. “What are you—?”
Derek flashed a mischievous smile, already walking toward your side of the bar. “Trust me.”
Spencer’s heart skipped a beat as he saw Derek in the corner of his eye approach you. He couldn’t help but watch the whole thing go down.
Derek walked up with his signature charm and a smooth smile. “Hey, ladies,” he greeted, leaning casually against the countertop. “Mind if I join you for a second?”
You glanced up at him, surprised, but smiled politely. “Sure, go ahead.”
Derek didn’t miss a beat. “Thanks. So, I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room,” he said smoothly. “Especially when I’ve got a buddy over there who’s been staring at you for a while.” He pointed behind him, subtly motioning to Spencer, who was frozen in the corner of the room, clearly aware that the jig was up. Spencer immediately felt the heat of embarrassment creeping up his neck.
You glanced over at Spencer, catching his eye for a moment before he quickly looked away. You raised an eyebrow. “He’s shy, huh?”
“Yeah,” Derek said with a wink. “But he’s a good guy. Just a little... socially awkward.” He chuckled. “But I think you might make him a little less awkward.”
You smiled, intrigued now. “So what’s his name?”
“Spencer Reid,” Derek said, a little too smugly. “I think you should text him. He’ll appreciate it.”
Derek pulled out a piece of paper with Spencer's number already on it, like he had already planned this the whole time. “I’ll let him know you’ve got it,” he added with a playful grin.
You looked at the number in your hand. “Well, I’ll have to think about it,” you said, teasing Derek. “But thanks for the introduction.”
With a wink, Derek gave you a nod. “Don’t keep him waiting too long,” he said before turning back toward Spencer, who was now practically melting into his seat with embarrassment.
A few minutes passed before you decided it was time to approach him. You slid off the seat and slowly walked up behind Spencer, tapping him on the shoulder. He quickly turned around, clearly startled by your sudden touch.
"Uh… Spencer, right?" you ask, raising an eyebrow at him.
He gulped before responding, staring at you for a quick second. "Yeah…"
"Nice to meet you. I'm Y/N; wanna get a drink?" You give him a friendly smile, trying to make him feel comfortable enough to come back to your side of the bar with you.
He smiles back and nods quickly. "Yeah! Yeah... sounds good." He slides off his chair, letting you guide him back with you. You can feel his friend's eyes all on you as you walk away with him, leaving them speechless.
As you both sit down at a barstool, Spencer fidgets with his fingers rapidly. You look down to see his shaking leg and him picking his fingernails.
"Hey, it's okay. I don't bite, I promise." You chuckle, making him look up into your eyes with his own beautiful puppy eyes.
"Yeah, I know. I just… never really show my face at the bar. I'd prefer reading over this, but… here I am." he says with contempt as he slowly nods his head.
You smile, agreeing with a nod. "Yeah, me neither, to be honest. My friends dragged me out here, which I'm assuming yours did as well." you laugh.
"Yeah… but hey, I'm with you now, so…" he says, leaning his arm onto the bar countertop. You smirk.
"Your friends seem nice. How do you know them?" you ask, trying to keep the conversation as interesting as possible.
"Uh—you know... We're co-workers." He responds blandly, not wanting to reveal his place of work in case you were to get intimidated by it.
"Oh really? What do you work as?" You continue to ask him questions, pushing a response out of him. You were curious.
He hesitates a moment. "I—uh... well, I'm an agent at the Behavioral Analysis Unit," he finally says, taking a sip out of his drink awkwardly.
"FBI, huh?" You smirk, looking him up and down. "That's sexy. Do you carry your creds?" you ask, looking up into his eyes.
"Yeah… Uh…" his cheeks burn a crimson red as he fumbles around for a second before finally pulling out a foldable wallet. He opens it smoothly, holding it up for you to see.
His picture looked nothing like how he does now. His hair smooth and slicked back with a side part, and a completely blank and pale face.
"How many years ago was that picture taken?" you chuckle, scanning it one last time before he flips it over to see himself.
"A long time ago." He laughs, his voice softening as he closes the wallet and slides it back into his pocket. "I should probably get it updated, huh?"
You tilt your head playfully, taking another sip from your alcoholic beverage. "I don't know, I think it's cute. Kind of shows how far you've come and grown."
Spencer blinks, not expecting the compliment. He adjusts his tie nervously, his fingers brushing over the fabric. "Thank you. That's... nice of you to say."
You lean in slightly, resting your chin in your hand. "So, Spencer Reid, FBI agent," you say, your voice teasing yet warm at the same time. "What's something you don't know everything about?"
He chuckles, his lips twitching into a shy smile. "Plenty of things, actually. You'd be surprised at how much I still have to learn."
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "Like what?"
He pauses for a second, as if genuinely thinking about your question. "Well… I've never really been good at small talk," he admits, sheepishly smiling. "Or, uh, anything involving this…" he gestures vaguely between the two of you, his cheeks flushing again.
You laugh softly, the sound making his heart skip a beat. "I don't think you're doing too bad." you assure him. "And for the record, I'm not much of a fan of small talk either. Let's skip it—tell me something real about you."
Spencer quirks an eyebrow at your directness, but there's something about your tone that puts him at ease. "Okay, something real about me…" He thinks for a second. "I have an IQ of 187, have an eidetic memory, and can read up to 20,000 words per minute, but sometimes I wish I could slow down, y'know?"
You blink, completely shocked by this brand new information. "I— No… I don't know." You laugh, still completely taking it in. "That's... insane," you finally manage, shaking your head in disbelief. "187 IQ? You're like, literally a genius."
Spencer tilts his head a bit, clearly a bit embarrassed by your reaction. "Well, technically, yeah. But it's not as impressive as people think. It just means I remember a lot of things. Well… everything."
You grin, leaning a little closer. "Okay, Mr. Modest. If you're so smart, hit me with a scientific fact. Blow my mind."
Spencer's lips quirk into a shy smile, but there's a glint of mischief in his eyes now. He pauses for a moment, as if sorting through the thousands of facts stored in his mind. He looks directly at you, his voice soft but steady.
"Did you know," he begins, "that during intense physical contact, your brain releases tons of chemicals, including dopamine, oxytocin, and endorphins, which heighten pleasure and create emotional bonding?"
You blink, the corners of your mouth twitching upward as the suggestive undertone sinks in. "Intense physical contact, huh?" you repeat, tilting your head at him with that same smirk on your face. "That’s a pretty specific fact to share."
Spencer's eyes widen, his mind now racing and wondering if maybe you took that fact to offense. "I just meant… It's a common and well-documented physiological response. I wasn't implying—"
You laugh at his fumbling words, cutting him off before he goes and spirals even further. "Relax, Spencer. I'm just teasing you." You lean back, taking another sip of your drink, your eyes twinkling. "But hey, maybe we can test that out sometime."
His mouth opens, seemingly caught off guard. He looks at you, not sure whether you're joking or not. "Uh… yeah," he says, barely audible. "Maybe."
You smile, tilting your head a bit. "Hey, wanna get out of here? Maybe go to my place? We can call a taxi," you say suddenly, finally finishing your espresso martini and putting the glass down with a clink.
He hesitates for a second, looking back at his coworkers with an open mouth. "Uh… Yeah, sure. I don't see why not."
The ride back to your apartment is quiet at first, with Spencer sitting stiffly beside you in the back of the taxi, his hands fidgeting in his lap. You can practically feel the nervous energy radiating off of him, and it makes you smile.
"You alright over there, genius?" you ask softly, tilting your head over to look at him.
"Yeah," he says quickly, too quickly. He clears his throat and glances at you, his lips twitching into a sheepish smile. "Sorry. This is just… not exactly something I usually do."
You nod slowly in understanding, trying your best to make his discomfort fade away. "No judgment. I don't either, to be honest, but you seemed too interesting to leave back at the bar."
This earns a laugh out of him, and his shoulders relax a bit. "Well, uh… thanks."
When the taxi finally pulls up to your apartment building, you pay the driver and lead Spencer upstairs. He follows closely behind, his eyes darting around as he takes in his surroundings.
"This is a nice apartment complex," he says as you unlock the door and step inside, gesturing for him to follow.
"Thanks," you say, flicking the lights on and setting down your bag on a nearby chair. You toe off your shoes and look back at him. "Make yourself comfortable."
Spencer hesitates for a moment before awkwardly shrugging off his coat and hanging it on the back of a chair. He stands there for a second, unsure of what to do, until you notice and step towards him.
"You don't have to look so nervous, y'know," you tease gently.
"I'm not nervous," he replies, though the slight tremor in his voice was surely nervousness.
You tilt your head, studying him. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?"
His lip stretches into an upward shy smile.
"So I've been told," he admits.
You laugh softly at his words, and you gesture towards the couch. "Sit down. Do you want something to drink?"
He shakes his head, making his way to the couch and sitting on it stiffly. "I'm alright. Thanks."
You sit down beside him, close enough to brush shoulders but not so close as to make him uncomfortable. For a moment, there's silence, and then you glance up at him with a playful smile.
"So… want to share another one of those scientific facts of yours?" you ask, leaning slightly closer to him.
Spencer chuckles, his shoulders loosening as he meets your gaze. "Only if you're ready for it."
"I'm ready," you say, settling in and giving him your undivided attention.
He thinks for a moment, then smirks slightly as he chooses one. "Did you know that the human brain processes the sensation of touch faster than almost any other sensory input? It’s why even the lightest touch can feel so intense."
You raise an eyebrow, the corners of your lips curving upward. "Is that so?"
He nods, his confidence growing as he begins to explain. "It’s because of specialized nerve ending called mechanoreceptors. They send signals to your brain almost immediately, making touch one of the most primal and powerful ways to communicate."
You hold his gaze, letting your hand grab his cheek. Now your voice is soft but laced with curiosity. "And what exactly do you think touch is communicating right now?"
His breath hitches slightly, his gaze flickering down to your arm as it reaches his face.
"I think," he says, his voice quieter now, "it’s.. saying a lot."
"Good," you murmur, leaning in just a little closer, "because I think I like what it’s saying."
Spencer’s eyes meet yours, wide and full of something you can’t quite put into words. And for the first time all night, he doesn’t hesitate, and in one swift motion, his lips are crashing into yours.
The kiss started off soft and warm but quickly grew heated. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer. You could practically feel his nervousness melting away as you two continued, replaced by confidence. Gone was the shy, awkward man from the bar.
You tilt your own head, your fingers sliding up to his head, tangling in his soft hair. Spencer's breath hitched at your touch, and he let out a quiet whine that sent shivers down your spine. For someone who looked and sounded to be inexperienced, he sure as hell didn't make it seem like that.
When you both pulled away, it wasn't forced, it was synchronized. You searched his face, cheeks flushed with a deep pink, and his eyes watery as he stared into yours.
You both stood up from off the couch and pressed your lips together once again. But this time, it was slower, as you savored the way his hands gripped your hips.
Spencer broke the kiss this time, looking at you before saying, "Where's your bedroom?" You smirk, grabbing his hand and leading him to your bedroom before slamming the door shut.
When you both finally make it to your bed, you lay down, him on top of you as his lips trail down your jaw to your neck. "God, you drive me insane, Y/N." He murmurs, his words muffled against your skin.
You tilt your head back, groaning as his lips continue to work against your skin. "Fuck, Spencer…"
His hands fumble around your body until his fingers finally catch onto the zipper of your dress. His fingers quickly move to unzip it, then skillfully move to take the straps off your shoulders. You whine in disappointment as he takes his lips off of your neck to slide the dress down your body and off at your legs. He throws it somewhere on the floor before quickly going back to press his lips to yours.
You squirm as his fingers graze over your lace panties, practically teasing you in a place you need him most.
"Spencer…" you let out, huffing audibly. He quirks an eyebrow, the erection in his pants growing by the second.
"Yes, baby?" he coos, his fingers continuing to trace circles on your panties.
"I need you..." You whisper, embarrassed at your own neediness. He smirks, pretending to not hear you.
"You what? I need you to speak up for me," he teases, and this drives you mad.
"I need you!" You yell in desperation, tired of the teasing. "I want you to… fuck me," you mumble, looking up into his eyes.
"Didn't exactly take you as a begger, Y/N," he snickers, continuing to look down on you. "But all you had to do was ask." His hands swiftly move to his pants, quickly unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants. He pulls them down, still stuck on his thighs.
He looks down and slowly moves your panties to the side. "Already wet, huh?" he teases. He then grabs your legs and swings them over his shoulders. "Ready?" he asks softly. You nod your head, squinting your eyes shut.
When the tip of his cock hits your entrance, you squirm slightly, getting out a small whimper. "Oh, god…" you murmur.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, he slams into you, making you let out a loud yelp as he continues to slide his cock in and out of you with swift movements. He groans, the feeling of your warm pussy making him throw his own head back.
"Holy shit… you're so tight, baby…" he says breathlessly, the loud sounds of heavy breathing and clapping filling your bedroom. "Look at me," he demands. "I want to see those pretty eyes of yours."
You follow his command, your watery eyes looking into his wide brown eyes. "Fuck, Spencer… right there!" you're practically yelling at this point.
Both of your bodies are moving at the same time, practically glued together, stuck together like magnets as your body bounced on his cock. Your hands gripped your baby pink sheets harshly, knuckles turning white as you arched your back.
"Sweet girl… 'm going to come." he warns, breaking eye contact with you to throw his head back once again.
You finally feel relieved, knowing you were chasing your own high. "'M almost there, baby. Oh, god…" your voice cracking between each word, warning him of your own orgasm.
As you begin to rock your hips, you finally moan, "Come inside me, baby! Please, yes, please!" and that, finally drives him over the edge.
As your body starts to give out, you and Spencer release at the same time. Feeling the warmth of his release spilling inside of you as you both moaned in one synchronized motion, making your own orgasm feel even better.
When he finally pulls out, his body collapses next to you, both of you breathing heavily as you try to catch your breath. You turn your head to look over at him, smiling softly.
"Well, I guess you can say you seduced me with your scientific facts," you admit, laughing lazily, which earns one out of him as well.
tags:
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#matthew gray gubler#mgg#spencer reid smut#smut#smut fanfiction#fanfiction#short n sweet#bed chem
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𝗗𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗗𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀, 𝗦𝘁𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗧𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗭𝗼𝗻𝗲- 𝗦.𝗥.



Pairing- PostPrison!Spencer x Gideon!Reader
WC- 5k
Summary- Jason Gideon's daughter reluctantly accepts a new position at the BAU. The night before her first day, she has a one night stand in order to quell her nerves. When that one night stand turns out to be her coworker and her father's old protégé, she'll have more to fight than just killers.
Contains- canon typical violence, reader coming head-to-head with an unsub, reader is a lil reckless and very stubborn, non-explicit sex scene (18+ MDNI regardless), Spencer has emotional issues from prison, actually proofread this time holla
A/N- divider from @thecutestgrotto !! I honestly don't love this fic so bon appetite I hope u guys do
Glasses clink together, celebratory whoops ringing through the crowded bar. Your crisp, refreshing vodka cran tickles your throat as a large gulp slides down. You’re desperate to quell the anxiety bubbling up in you, though you’re supposed to be celebrating.
You’re smiling, but it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. Your fingers squeeze around your glass, your heart pounding. You’re desperate to appear happy and grateful, and your friends truly are great to you, celebrating you in such a way.
It’s hard though, knowing the clock just keeps ticking. The seconds fleeting, one by one, until your arrival at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Your father founded it. You swore you’d never follow in his footsteps, scorned from the way it tore your family apart.
Yet, when you received a call from unit chief Emily Prentiss, you’d been hard pressed to say no. Something screamed deep inside you, all the parts given to you by your father, at the case details Agent Prentiss provided.
A serial killer targeting women, within 5 mile radii of historical landmarks all throughout D.C. She said she’d seen your work at the D.C. History Center, your ability to analyze and curate historical artifacts standing out. If you like it, then you have a permanent spot on the team. It’s more money, you told yourself. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel there’s a part of you, deep down, that needed to say yes.
The loud shrieks of laughter emanating from your table snap you back to reality. You scan the bar, patrons packed in like sardines. The low light mixes with the smoke filtering the air. Your eyes narrow into slits as they land on something quite breathtaking.
It’s a man. He seems older, a professional, with the tailored way his suit coat fits. That doesn’t stop his brown curls from flopping in front of his big eyes. His long fingers graze the rim of a whiskey glass, taking a long sip. Your friend follows your gaze, her eyebrows shooting into her hairline at what she finds.
“Oh!” she gasps, impressed by what she sees. “Good find! You gonna go talk to him?”
You shift your head from side to side, rattling the question around in your brain. You’re typically not bold enough to approach a man in a setting like this, let alone the Adonis sitting across the bar from you now. Tonight, though, you might be just tipsy enough, just desperate enough to escape the anxiety of tomorrow, that you may just go for it. What’s the worst that could happen?
You slide out of the booth, fingers delicately gripping the rim your glass as you make your way across the bar. You slink onto the bar stool next to him, refusing to make eye contact, though you feel his gaze on you. You adjust your mini dress, pulling the sparkly gold fabric down as far as it’d go, your upper thigh tantalizingly on display. His head drops down to where your hand lay, and he licks his lips. Check and mate.
“Long night?” You ask, crossing your leg over your knee. You sip your drink, still refusing to look at him.
“You could say that,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving your frame.
Your eyes meet his, unable to hold off any longer. God. He’s even more gorgeous than you thought. You study him up close now, your brow furrowing. There’s something about him- his round eyes, the slant of his nose- that feels hauntingly familiar. Like a friend from a past life, returning to you once more. You can’t place your finger on it, though, and the alcohol disorienting you just enough to brush it off. For now.
“How could you tell?” He asks, and it dawns on you that you’d never responded. You poise yourself, sitting up straighter to shake off the mishap.
“Had a hunch,” you reply over the rim of your glass. You let your lips close around it and take a sip. His eyes follow the movement. A shiver runs down your spine.
“You seem like a very smart woman,” he says, his voice soft yet firm. You want to bathe in it.
“You don’t even know the half of it,” you reply, your eyes narrowing as you size him up further. You introduce yourself, reveling in the way his eyes light up at your name.
“Spencer,” he responds, that pesky deja vu creeping back in at the name.
It falls silent between you then, but it’s not uncomfortable. On the contrary, actually. Your eyes never leave each other, having a silent conversation all on their own. His are dark with desire and want, they hang low slightly, due to the alcohol, most likely. They’re otherworldly gorgeous, big and brown like melted pools of chocolate. You could swim in him all night.
There’s something else there entirely, though. Hesitation, confusion maybe. The smallest tint of discomfort lasers through the heat, like he’s out of his comfort zone. A smirk crawls on your lips. What are the odds that tonight, of all nights, was the one in which you both decided to take a chance?

It only takes one more drink and some small talk until you’re up against your own front door. He’s kissing you within an inch of your life, his large hands completely captivating your face. His lips slot over yours, making your brain fuzzy. He kisses like a madman, all encompassing, borderline feral.
There’s a hunger in his tongue that you haven’t tasted in far too long. It’s addictive, his smoky scent, his soft pants against your mouth. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the sensations. Your nails grip the root of his curls as his lips move to your neck, softly sucking and nibbling. A whimper escapes your lips, your eyes squeezing shut as you scramble for the doorknob. You rattle against the lock before fumbling for your keys.
You stumble in shortly after, tripping over your gold shoes. Spencer catches you, a large hand splaying over the small of your back. He tugs you closer with it, your chest pressing against his. You walk him down the hall before he scoops you up, taking you the rest of the way to your bedroom.
“Spencer,” you muffle against his neck, overwhelmed by your desire for him.
“I know, sweetheart. I know. Give me just one minute and I’m going to make you feel so good,” he whispers against your temple. You nod feverishly, like if you’d stopped he’d disappear.
He lays you down, propping your feet to rest flat on the bed, spreading your knees apart with those large hands. He freezes, his breath hitching at the sight of you under your dress. You smirk, the lace thong you’d worn doing its exact job. His Adam’s apple bobs as you trace a fingernail up his forearm.
“What is it, Spencer?” You question his hesitance, the way he’s stuck in front of you now, dazed. His eyes are wide, his lips slightly parted. It makes you feel divine, the goddess of the universe on display for him.
“You gonna leave me hanging?” you pout, reveling in the way his eyes darken. He kisses you with the fervor to prove he could never do such a thing. You let go. The feeling of his hands are intoxicating, like a rich wine.
They creep up your sides, your dress hitching higher and higher with the movement. You shift under his touch, your body writhing as heat pools in your lower belly.
The second he grazes your bare skin, he freezes. Your eyes shoot open to find his, wide and desperate and so, so gorgeous. It shifts something inside of you, your heart clutching so severely that it scares you.
“Spencer,” you whisper against his lips. He shudders.
“I’m going to make you feel so good.” He kisses you again.

You blink slowly, the soft light of the sunrise filtering through your parted curtains. There’s a slight thump in your head, but thankfully nothing too bad. You massage your temples as you turn. Your eyes shoot open as you hit a body next to you, still sound asleep.
Memories of last night come rushing back- meeting Spencer, taking him home, the phenomenal night you had, and now this. This, the first day of your new job. Your heart drops. You scramble on the bed in a panicked attempt to find your phone. You whip around to see it sitting on your nightstand, thanking any and every higher power that might be.
You let out a sigh of relief when you see you still have some time to get yourself ready. You ignore the 47 text messages from your group chat last night. You’ll tell them you’re alive later.
You only have an hour, not what you’d ideally wanted for your first day of a brand new job, but it’s better than nothing. It still doesn’t solve your problem of the man in your bed, however.
Your hands push the dead weight, rustling him awake. He rubs his eyes, a raspy, “what?” escaping his lips. For a brief moment, you’re sad that you don’t have enough time to appreciate the sight, the sound of his morning voice. You shake it off quickly, though. You push him again, urging him out of your bed.
“Babe, it’s 5:30 a.m.,” you murmur, rubbing your eyes. You’re both too tired to address the pet name. At least that’s what you’re telling yourselves.
“Oh, shit. I’m gonna be late for work,” he scrambles off the bed. You take a moment to admire his naked frame in the sunlight as he gathers his clothing.
“Me too,” you say, lunging off the bed yourself. “It’s my first day on a new job, I’m running more behind than I’d like to be right now.” You’re running around your room like a chicken with her head cut off, grabbing your towels and rushing to the ensuite bathroom.
You can’t help but give him one last peck on the lips. This, incidentally, led to two, three, four more. Lastly, one that lingers longer than it should. One long enough for him to graze his hand along your bare arm. You shiver. Your thin bedsheet is the only fabric separating your bare body to his fully clothed one.
You pull away, taking a step back. You release a deep breath as you take him in once more before you leave.
“Feel free to make some coffee on your way out! Cups are in the cupboard above the coffee pot! Thanks for last night!” You call, before slamming the bathroom door on him, running the shower.

Miraculously, you managed to make it at an appropriate time. You park in the FBI car park at 6:45 on the dot. You lean back in your seat, taking a deep breath and a sip of coffee. Finally, you reapply your lip gloss before you turn off your car.
Your heels echo through the hallway leading towards the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Your heart is pounding in your ears. You’d always told yourself you would never follow in the steps of your father. And yet, here you are. Each step you take feels as if you’re walking in a giant’s footsteps. You pray you’ll make him proud.
The FBI seal on the door looms over you, unable to keep its claws out of the Gideon lineage. You’re frozen there, stuck staring at it, unable to enter. That is, until you hear your name from behind you. The voice is familiar, too familiar. Your stomach drops.
You whip your head around, coming face to face with-
“Spencer,” you breathe, the air stolen from your lungs at the sight of him.
His hair is slightly damp, falling in front of his eye. There’s static in your ears, a faint ringing torturing you. Panic swells in your stomach, bubbling, boiling. And then it hits you.
Spencer. Spencer Reid. Dr. Spencer Reid.
“You worked with my dad,” you whispered. It’s all you can manage. Your voice still cracks.
“Your dad?” His brow furrows. He studies your face. His eyes scan up and down, desperation taking over. You can basically hear them asking, begging, “Who are you?”You’re still frozen, unable to speak.
Then, it hits him. You know, because he’s found the exact parts of you that resemble your father, his mentor. Your dark eyes, the slant in your nose, the curve of your mouth. The very mouth that was on his just hours ago.
“Oh, God,” he gasps. You turn, walking into the office. All you hear is static as you move, your heart pounding in your ears as you fake a smile through your introductions.
You move throughout your day as easily as you can. The rest of the team is incredibly kind, welcoming. The work starts almost immediately, which you’re thankful for. Like father, like daughter, you suppose. Yet, you can’t escape Spencer, looming over you like an inescapable shadow.
He hasn’t spoken to you since your interaction outside the door, but you feel his eyes on you the whole day. When you speak to the team, when you analyze a document, he’s there. Watching. You feel his eyes creep up your spine, their penetrative gaze lodging deep in your chest. Your heart squeezes each time he walks past you without recognition. The cold shoulder lasts through the rest of the day.
You’re conflicted, your heart at war with your mind. The Spencer you met in the bar last night is nothing like the image you’d created of him in your head years prior. He’s kind, funny, interesting, not because of, but in spite of his accolades and achievements. He’s someone you could fall for. At least, you thought so before seeing him today.
You were young when your dad took Spencer under his wing. You’d never met him, then, just seen a few pictures and heard endless stories. You always felt in his shadow, though. The way your father’s eyes lit up when he spoke about him, the excitement lacing his tone, it was all reserved solely for Spencer Reid.
You’d cry yourself to sleep some nights, desperate to do something, anything as worthwhile in the eyes of your father. You never did. He loved you, of course, and he was proud of you. Yet, nothing ever measured up to his pride and love for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, for Spencer.

As the weeks went by, Spencer couldn’t help but find himself pulling further and further away from her. It’s an anchor on his heart, weighing it down more and more each day. Everything inside him, his soul, his heart, screams to be near her, to hold her, to have her every night the way he did that first one. His mind, though, is an entirely different story.
His mind pumps the brakes, waging a civil war inside him that he won’t be able to win. He’s terrified. Terrified of being left the same way her father did, though he knows in his heart he can’t blame her for his faults. His mind once again holds him back, though. It’s funny that what’s supposed to be his greatest strength can also be his biggest enemy. He reconciled with that a lot when he was behind bars, yet another reason he’s apprehensive of opening up to her. So, he stays away.
Now, Spencer buzzes through the bullpen, coffee in hand as the team rushes to the conference room. He’s stuck behind her, of course. The floral scent of her perfume infiltrates him, threatening a shutdown of his central nervous system. His heart constricts as he watches her, her snug blouse cinching her waist, the tight pencil skirt it’s tucked into rendering him nearly brainless. He sips his coffee, eyes diverting.
He hasn’t spoken to her much in the month she’s been here, though not from a lack of desire. Quite the opposite, actually. His heart is fighting something. Something deep inside him from before he went to prison, before Gideon even left the bureau. Her relation to his former mentor has shifted his world on a different axis, like life is moving in reverse.
With his luck, the only seat left is the one directly across from her, the shine of her lip gloss inescapable. He tries his best to focus as Penelope debriefs them on a triple homicide in Texas, though something peculiar piques his interest. He sees it through the window, someone delivering an envelope on her desk. It’s a black envelope, not anything that would be used for official government business. The hairs on the back of his neck rise. He stands. The entire team looks at him.
“I need to go check on something,” he murmurs, but before he leaves, he taps her lightly on the shoulder. “You need to come with me,” he says lowly, so only she can hear.
She stands, hesitantly, offering the team a sheepish, apologetic smile. He suppresses a soft chuckle at that. She’s a Gideon, for Christ’s sake. She could show up late for a year straight and they’d thank her just for showing up. He pushes that thought away as he leads her to her desk.
“There was something that was dropped off on your desk just now,” he murmurs into her ear. “It was weird, I have a hunch. I just think you need to look at it before it’s too late.”
“Too late? Spencer-” she stops, her eyes going wide once she sees the envelope. “Oh, God,” she gasps, her fingers covering her mouth.
“What? What is it?” Spencer asks, his pulse speeding up.
“My father received letters in these exact same envelopes in the months before he died,” she looks at him, eyes wild and glossy, laced with deep seated fear.
Meet me at the park at 2:30 p.m. You know which one. Don’t be late.
Spencer races back to the conference room, the letter gripped tightly in his fingers. He lays it out on the table for the team, their brows quirking.
“This was left on her desk. She said her dad received ones just like it in the months before his murder.” It’s all he needs to say before the team scrambles out of the conference room. Penelope’s already on the phone with the case director, forwarding them a new unit for their case. Rossi, Emily, and J.J. are scanning for a return address,
Spencer exits the conference room to see her holstering her gun, fitting her badge in her back pocket.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks her, a tentative hand out in front of him.
“What do you think I’m doing?” she snaps, and he flinches at her tone.
Regret flashes in her eyes, only for a brief moment.
“There’s no way in hell you’re going to that park,” he insists with a shake of his head.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was someone you were interested in at all. What’s it to you that I’m fighting for myself when I couldn’t for my father?” Her voice shakes on the last word, his heart cracking at the sound.
“I know I’ve been…distant,” he mutters, his voice low, “but you need to think about the implications of what you’re doing.”
“Distant? That’s what you want to call it?” She scoffs, moving to follow the rest of the team. “I’ve thought about the implications of these letters since the day my father was killed. You may have been his golden boy, but I’m his blood.” She sneers in his face, before leaving with the team.
His heart plummets, dropping into his stomach like a brick in the ocean. He plows ten fingers through his hair before bringing the letter to Penelope’s office. They have some analyzing to do.

The car ride is silent as you drive. You knew what park they were referring to immediately. It’s the one your father took you to when you were a baby. You stare out the window, mind and body numb to the reality of what’s happening.
“Hey Emily,” your voice is low, tentative. “Did my dad ever talk about me?” You inhale shakily, not sure if you want the answer. You couldn’t help asking, regardless.
“Oh, yeah he did,” she has a soft smile on her face, and it melts something frozen inside you.
You let out an exhale of relief. “Really?” You ask, disbelieving.
“Really. He wasn’t a typical parent, not one to show off accolades or achievements, though we know you had tons of those,” she states, and you smile softly. “What he did show us were glimpses into his life with you.”
You furrow your brow at this, unsure of her point. She looks at you, then smiles, turning her attention back to the road.
“He’d bring you up in random conversation, when we’d work on paperwork, when he was interviewing families…‘Oh, my daughter loves that show,’ or, ‘my daughter loves the color pink.’ Any chance he had, he’d mention it. At a certain point, I don’t think he even realized he was doing it. It just happened.”
You didn’t even realize your eyes were glossing over until a lone tear rolls down your cheek. You swipe it away with your fingers, clearing your throat and looking down at your lap.
“Thank you,” you croak. Emily nods.
It doesn’t take long until you reach the park, each member of the team splitting up in various directions. You’re with Emily, on strict orders to stay near any member of the team. You feel something, though. Something deep down that’s not right, that the team is headed in the wrong direction.
You entered the park at the south entrance, the opposite side from where your father would take you. You scan the premises, your breath catching. It’s mainly families, some couples enjoying a walk or a picnic. It’s peaceful. Guilt boils in the pit of your stomach at the thought of disturbing these people. The job is the job, as your father would always say.
It takes a split second for you to make a decision the entire team will have your head for. You break off from the group, sneaking off to a backwoods trail you would hike with your father. It’ll get you to the other side of the park, the side you need to be. You know you should include the team in this decision, that you’re putting yourself directly in harm’s way. This feels so personal, so vulnerable, though, that your feet are moving before your mind can catch up to your body.
It doesn’t take long for Emily to notice you’ve gone, as you can hear her muffled “shit!” come from behind. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you pause, waiting for her to pass by to continue your route.
The trail leads you to the other side, just as it always did, and it doesn’t take long for you to see him. Growing up in the shadow of your father means you know everything there is to know about psychoanalysis. This includes how to spot an unsub. It’s almost too easy at this point, like chess to their checkers.
You exit the trail, the unsub clocking you almost immediately. He cocks his gun, pointing it right at you. You holster yours, holding your hands up in surrender.
“I’m not here to fight. I just want to talk,” you say, voice calm and collected.
“I refuse to talk to a Gideon,” he spits your name. It’s venomous, vengeful. So it is personal.
“Okay, then pretend I’m not a Gideon. Pretend I’m someone who just wants to have a conversation,” you say. You move closer, despite your better judgement.
“Do you think I’m stupid?!” He grits out, aggravation evident in his tone. People around are starting to notice, to flee. You put yourself between him and any other pedestrians still at the park.
“God, you look just like him!” He sounds pained as he says it, like it almost hurts.
He lunges at you, then. Before your body can react, his forearm is held tight against your throat, the gun pressed to your temple. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, as your eyes frantically search for anything they can find.
Then, you spot it. It’s tiny, you could’ve easily missed it. D.M. Small, stark letters tattooed on the inside of his wrist. Your breath catches in your throat when it sinks in.
“Your dad killed my father,” you say. It’s strained as you fight for breath.
“What?” The man says, gripping you tighter.
“D.M. On your wrist. Donnie Mallick. He killed my father,” you breathe, a bead of sweat forming on your forehead. The man pauses, lowering the gun from your head. He’s distracted. Now’s your chance.
You make quick work of gripping the gun, stomping on his foot with your heel to get him to let go of the weapon. His arms collide with your middle, knocking you to the ground. Your knee strikes his gut, and he keels into you. You watch as his arm winds back, gearing up to deliver a severe punch. You wiggle around, bracing yourself for impact.
“I have to finish what he started.”
It’s the last thing you hear before his weight is taken off you completely. You turn to see Spencer on top of him, cuffing his hands behind his back. Your heart pounds against your ribcage, the adrenaline mixing with the utter shock of seeing Spencer take down an unsub like that, of seeing Spencer at all. He hands him off to Rossi and makes quick work moving to you.
You dust yourself off, standing on shaky ground. You look at Spencer, only a few feet away, but it feels like oceans. You’re both breathing deep, his chest mirroring your own heaving. You watch as he takes long strides, his hands gripping your face before pulling your lips to his.
He kisses you like you’re Penelope and he’s Odysseus, reunited after 10 years apart. In a way, you feel like you have been. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. He deepens the kiss, his lips covering yours almost entirely. His hands find the small of your back, hoisting you closer. He pulls back for air. You can’t help but chase his lips. He gives you one more peck before pulling you back into his chest.
“You really shouldn’t sneak off alone like that,” he breathes. You laugh against him, squeezing him tighter.

The ride back to the bureau with Spencer is quiet. Not tense, but a comfortable silence that falls over you two like a soft blanket. Your brow quirks when Spencer veers to the right, 2 blocks from the office.
“Spencer, you’re going the wrong way,” you breathe out, knowing deep down there’s no possible way he made this mistake unintentionally.
“No, I’m not. You’ll see,” there’s a small smile on his face. You settle back into your seat.
A swarm of butterflies is unleashed in your stomach as he pulls into an all-too-familiar parking lot. The red and white neon sign frames the car in the late sunset. ‘Buddy’s 24H Diner. Best Milkshakes In Town!’ A tear sneaks its way down your cheek before you can stop it.
“My dad used to take me here all the time,” you whisper, voice thick with emotion. “It’s the only place he liked that he could take me to after cases.”
“I know,” he smiles. “Let’s go.”
You’re seated in the corner booth, the one your dad insisted on every time. Your lips curl around your milkshake straw, fighting for your life to suck out the thick liquid. It’s not lost on you when Spencer’s eyes follow the movement, bringing his own cup to his lips.
“I’ve been having a hard time, having you on the team,” Spencer mutters. Your heart sinks.
“Oh?” You attempt to remain as calm as possible. “Why’s that?”
He shrugs, avoiding eye contact. Your heart picks up in speed, thrumming in your ears.
“I was such a different person when Gideon was in my life. I don’t think I was prepared for another one to enter,” he takes a bite of his burger, chewing before continuing. “Since I got out of prison, I’ve been so desperate to put my old life behind me. You joining the team has forced me to admit that life doesn’t work that way.”
You pop a fry into your mouth, chewing on that and what he said.
“Why were you in prison?” You ask, feeling a slight tinge of regret at the way he flinches.
“I was framed by an unsub. She had someone on the outside,” his voice is clipped. You count yourself lucky for getting even this much information.
“I’m sorry,” you mutter. He shrugs.
“It’s just…thinking about the me I was when I worked with your father…” he trails off, eyes darting out the window. “I was so different. So naive. I had no idea what this job would do to me. So, when I saw you on your first day, it was like all these pieces of my life were colliding. I wasn’t ready for it. I froze. It’s no excuse for how I’ve treated you these past few weeks, and I’ll do everything and anything to make it up to you. I’m sorry,” he finishes with a deep exhale.
“I had a hard time, too,” you mutter, his eyes shooting up to you.
“With what?” He breathes.
“Reconciling my feelings for the great Dr. Spencer Reid.” His brow quirks in confusion. “You’re not the only one with a past life, y’know?” Your voice is sarcastic, but kind all the same.
“You may have only heard about me in passing, but my dad…God, he worshipped you. You were all he talked about most days. I was young. I felt inadequate. When I found out that was the man I ended up sleeping with, I…retreated. I couldn’t make peace with it either,” you utter, a shaky exhale following.
“I’m sorry,” Spencer mumbles, his eyes going soft.
You reach across the table, holding his hand in yours.
“Thank you for the apology, Spencer. It’s okay. How could you have known?” your eyes gleam, the emotion palpable between you two. “Expect to be put through the ringer, though. You said everything and anything, I’m holding you to that.” You point a fry at him in a threatening manner. He smiles.
“Good. I’m looking forward to it.” God, his smile is pretty.
“So…” you trail off, flirtation lacing your tone. “What was that kiss back there? You weren’t even supposed to be in the field.”
He avoids eye contact again, fighting back a smile.
“When someone I care about that much risks her life for a case, I’ll find a way to get there. No matter what.” His voice is low, warm. A shiver unzips your spine.
“I’m glad you did,” you smile.

Hours tick by, you and Spencer only moving to use the restroom. It’s like you’re catching up on all the dates you could have had in one night. You’re not complaining.
Each new fact you learn about Spencer makes your heart swell. His pain, his joy, his work. You want to swim in his memories until you’re laced in all of them.
You talked about your dad, about your work at the History Center, and how it led you to the bureau.
“Emily sweet talked me into it. I don’t know how anyone can say no to her,” you chuckle, sipping what must be your fourth cup of coffee.
It’s pitch black out now, the diner nearly empty. Your eyes began to feel heavy hours ago. You still haven’t moved. You can tell Spencer’s tired, too. The bags under his eyes are prominent, darker than usual.
Speak of the devil, both your phones buzz with an alert from your unit chief.
Emily: I know you’ve been at that diner all night. Go home and go to bed, you psychopaths.
You look at Spencer, brow raised. “My place?”
“Let’s do it,” Spencer smiles.
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Boulevard Confessions

Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Reader
Summary: Being a third wheel to Peggy and Steve wasn't your ideal Thursday night fun. However, when they tell you Bucky is tagging along you eagerly decide to join them. That is until a third party makes its presence known.
Word Count: 3.6k
Warning(s): drinking / fluff / jealousy / divergent from canon timeline / suggestive language / tipsy symptoms / mentions of war + the hardships that came with it
a/n: Here’s a little piece that’s been sitting unfinished in my drafts for ages. For context, this timeline is one where Steve and Bucky both made it back from the war safe and sound and are enjoying their lives now that the war is over. Thank you for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ As a little psa my writing challenge is still ongoing!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!! ♡
for ambiance 🎶
“ I am about to spew my dinner all over this table,” you grimace, downing the rest of your martini. The bitterness of the spirits was lost on you as your consumption grew in time with your sour mood.
Peggy eyed you from across the table, holding back her amusement, “ If you keep stuffing your face with martinis you will.” You reach out to grab another unclaimed drink, but before you could, Peggy slid the rest of them away from you. You crossed your arms, blowing out a resigned sigh. Even in your inhibited state, you knew better than to argue with an SSR agent.
Peggy shook her head at you, “ As your best friend I have an obligation to put a stop to this. Don’t you have a shift tomorrow at the clinic?” Your eyes went wide at the reminder.
You slump in the booth, dreading the bad hangover awaiting you in the morning. “ I do, but thankfully it's in the afternoon. I won’t feel it by then. . .” You trailed off, failing to convince Peggy, or yourself, you wouldn’t be miserable at work tomorrow. Peggy turned to look at the dance floor before returning her attention to you, “ You know, maybe you should dance the dizzy away. It might help you sober up.” Your lips purse at her suggestion, noticing a certain blonde-haired blue-eyed super soldier returning from the bathroom.
“ It's easy for you to say. You have a dance partner,” you motioned over to Steve.
“ You would too if you would only go up and ask him,” she pointed out.
You glanced at the dancing couples, “ No way. With the way that leech is clinging on to him—I’d never get one word in.”
She shrugged, “ You’ll never know until you try.” These were her parting words before Steve arrived at the table and escorted her onto the dance floor. You watched them, your head bopping along tiredly to the swing music.
Maybe you should have stayed home.
You almost didn’t come to the outing—being the third wheel to Peggy and Steve wasn’t exactly your ideal Thursday night fun. However, Peggy had mentioned Bucky would come along, and seeing as you hadn’t seen him in a few weeks due to conflicting schedules, you thought this would be the perfect opportunity to catch up.
That was until the leech—a woman named Darla—decided to hog Bucky all night. Darla had been trying to get with Bucky for over a month now. You found this out tonight when Steve made a comment about it. Bucky hadn’t paid it much importance, so you thought it must have not been anything serious. However, right about the time you and Bucky were starting to catch up, Darla came over and dragged him away.
Since then you’ve been inhaling martinis like your lungs preferred them over air.
You couldn’t help the way your eyes drifted over to Bucky’s figure. Handsome as ever in his navy suit—your favorite color on him—and hair neatly combed. Watching as Darla threw herself at him with the courage that you lacked. Pulling him every which way on the dance floor, holding his hands to her hips in a tight grip.
Your stomach contents were threatening to come up again.
When did things get so complicated? You scratched at your brain for an answer. Spending time with Bucky had been so easy back at the military base where you met. You were stationed there in the medical unit caring for wounded and ill soldiers. During that time, you became great friends with Peggy and everyone on the Howling Commandos team. Bucky would frequently visit the medical unit even when he wasn’t sick or wounded. Sometimes you swore he would fake injuries or aches just to come and see you. Anytime he came in with something new he would refuse to see any other nurse but you.
It made you feel special. While other women were smitten with his charms and stumbled over seizing his attention—you had it without effort. You had so much more than just his attention without even trying. On hopeless nights he shared his fears, on days where the war seemed endless you eased his worries, and when he felt like the world was crashing down on him his heart spilled all vulnerabilities to you.
You found refuge from the horrors of war in each other—a balm to each other’s wounds that went beyond the physical. In no time, something deeper for him bloomed within your heart.
Ever since the war was over, however, things have been different. It’s been a couple of years and Steve and Bucky work alongside Peggy for the Strategic Scientific Reserve. Going on missions has become their norm, so seeing your friends is a rarity nowadays.
You on the other hand were given a job at a children’s clinic in Brooklyn. You were grateful for this small piece of normality coming back to you. Treating smaller wounds on smaller bodies instead of lethal wounds during a relentless battle. Your senses are permanently burned with sights, sounds, and smells horrific enough to induce nightmares—and they do—managing to steal precious hours of sleep from you almost every night.
It was something you and Bucky especially bonded over.
“ May I have the honor of a dance, gorgeous?” A voice interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to meet a pair of unrecognizable hazel eyes. A handsome stranger stood in front of you, his hand outstretched for you to take. If you had but only one percentage less of alcohol in your system you would have declined his offer. This of course wasn’t the case, and not wanting to reminisce on more melancholy thoughts, you decided to listen to Peggy’s advice and dance the dizzy away.
Even if it wasn’t with the man you wanted to dance with.
“ You may,” you smiled at him, taking hold of his hand. Swiftly you were swept into the sea of couples on the dance floor. The handsome stranger—who you soon learn was named Thomas—was an impeccable dancer. With one hand holding yours, and the other holding you gently at your lower back, he spun you around the dance floor in rhythmic kicks and slides. Thomas’ energy was infectious and you couldn’t help but match his enthusiasm.
After two dances your footwork and Thomas’ were practically synchronized. Thomas twirled you, causing a giggle to escape your lips. It seemed the alcohol was stubborn about staying in your system as the twirl caused the dizziness to come back—for a split second—making you trip over your own foot. Thomas caught you and steadied you, both of you laughing at your clumsiness. The carefreeness of it all lulled the ache in your heart.
Behind Thomas, you caught a glimpse of Peggy who was dancing as joyfully with Steve. Her eyes met yours and she sent you an encouraging smile. Soon after, her eyes drifted to something behind you, turning her smile into a smirk. You went back to dancing with Thomas, but manoeuvered around to get a look at what caused Peggy to smirk. Your heart did a little jump when you discovered she had been looking at Bucky and Darla, dancing a few feet from where you were.
Correction. She had been staring at a Bucky you barely recognized. His jaw clenched and body rigid as he glared daggers at the back of Thomas’ head. Darla beside him looked snubbed, tugging on Bucky’s arm to get his attention. His tense demeanor didn’t move an inch no matter how much she protested. The pair were no longer dancing, merely standing in the sea of all the couples. This piqued your curiosity.
Why had he stopped dancing? And to glare at Thomas of all things?
You didn’t have much time to think about it as Darla, clearly fed up by Bucky’s lack of attention, grabbed him by his arm and pulled him away from the dance floor. You swayed to and fro with Thomas, controlling the direction you were swinging in to try and not lose Bucky from your line of sight.
Where was Darla taking him?
Your heart stopped when you realized where they were going. Darla was making a beeline for the back of the bar where the honey hallway was. The spot where all the couples went to have a little more privacy and fool around without having to leave the bar. If he was going there with Darla, then maybe things were more serious between them than you previously believed.
Your heart dropped to your stomach when reality sank in.
You excused yourself from Thomas, scurrying away in need of some fresh air. He offered to follow along, but you declined wanting to be alone. You threw the entrance door open into the Brooklyn night as a sickly feeling spread throughout your body.
You stepped into the street, the swing music fading into the background as the door closed behind you. You took in a deep breath, once again regretting the amount of alcohol you had consumed.
If you weren’t drunk seeing Bucky with someone else wouldn’t have hurt so much. It wouldn’t have knocked the air out of your lungs like it's doing now.
You know that’s a lie. That’s a damn lie you’re telling yourself to get you through the night. To give you the strength to focus on your surroundings and trudge home.
You’d eventually do that. First, however, your body seemed to want to cling to a street lamp to bring the world back to you. The cold metal underneath your palms grounding you for a moment. The breeze blowing past you threading through your hair as if to comfort you.
“ Doll, everything alright?” Your heart stuttered when you heard his voice, the thud of the bar door closing following it. You shut your eyes and bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying or doing anything the liquid courage in your system was trying to wrestle out of you.
You knew you needed to make a quick getaway.
“ I’m fine. Just heading home,” you were straight to the point before turning to walk away. Not looking at him as you put one foot in front of the other—and then stumbled.
Bucky caught you, his arms offering a strong support,“ Woah, Y/n, how much did you drink?” There was a slight annoyance in his tone. As if the mere thought of you having fun was preposterous.
Or at least that’s how your tipsy state interpreted it.
“ Doesn’t matter. I can have a drink or two if I want to. I get to have fun too,” you retort, trying to push his arms away from your body. Your arms are no match for his, as he doesn’t budge an inch—on the contrary, his hold gets more firm. The world started to spin more, but at this point, whether it was because of the martinis or his proximity—you wouldn’t know.
Bucky huffed and rolled his eyes,“ This isn’t having fun. This is going overboard,” he counters. His constant need to hold you steady and scold you for drinking irked the part of you that was already upset with him—fueling it more. Especially when you had the image of him heading to the honey hallway with Darla ingrained in your brain. And his arms, the ones around you now, swinging her around on the dancefloor.
There was something dark bubbling an envious brew within you.
“ Why do you give a damn?” you snap out harshly. He stills at your tone and it's enough to shake his hold off of you. You force yourself to look at him. Intending to shoot him an annoyed glare. Something to convey what your heart felt when your words failed to—but when your eyes met his you froze.
They were dark—virtually stormy—and yet, there was a hint of pain in them. Almost as if you had kicked him, but he was toughing it out.
“ What was that about?” He finally spoke after what seemed like too long.
“ What was what about?” You feigned innocence.
His eyes got darker, a disapproving half smile on his face,“ Don’t play coy. I come out here to check on you. You’re stumbling like a drunk fool. I try to help and you snap at me?”
“ I didn’t ask you to,” you’re quick with your dismissal.
“ You…unbelievable…” Bucky lets out a scoff, not knowing how to respond. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into you. In his mind, you’re simply too drunk to regulate yourself. He doesn’t know the vile jealousy that bubbles in the pit of your stomach and gnaws at your heart. He doesn’t know the intense battle your emotions are having with your brain—right in front of him—to stay silent before you truly say something you cannot take back.
“ Go back inside. I’m heading home,” you say simply, not wanting to dwell on this conversation any longer. You feared what might come of it if you didn’t.
“ No. I'm walking you home,” he shakes his head firmly, his tone matching in conviction.
“ No, you're not,” you reply, turning to make your way down the boulevard. Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose, “ Like hell I'm not, doll. I'm not letting you walk home alone.”
“I'm not letting you walk me home. I don't want you to,” you say adamantly as your feet start moving. Bucky is right beside you as they do, not letting you get away,“ I don't care what you want or don't want. I'm walking you home and that's final.” His voice leaves no room for argument.
The martinis in your system don’t particularly give a damn, but it is enough to quiet you for the time being. Your speed increases slightly, but Bucky can match it easily. For a moment you consider running—as ridiculous as an idea that may be.
The sharp patter of your footsteps against the pavement synchronizes with the thudding of his as they mingle down the boulevard. The city sounds around you are an otherwise low hum of the occasional car and distant conversation. The city still whispering its signs of life at this time of night.
The walk to your place isn’t too far. And you know if you don’t shake him off soon there would be an unpleasant conversation awaiting you when you arrive.
“ Don’t you have someone waiting on you at the bar?” You remind him with a little sting to your heart. Secretly hoping this wasn’t the reason he’d walk away from you.
Bucky frowns, thinking for a moment before speaking,“ What? You mean Darla?” The sound of her name on his lips bristles you.
“ Yeah, her,” the word her spills from your lips as if it was venomous. Bucky catches that and is taken aback for a second. His footsteps coming to a stop. You push yourself to keep walking. Taking this as a sign to ignore the tiny part of your brain that begs you to stop moving.
Not a minute later Bucky strides to your side,“ Doll…are you jealous?” He asks with the tiniest bit of doubt, his small smile overshadowing it.
“ Me? Ha! No,” your denial is quick—too quick. His small smile turns into a wide grin. You’ve just confirmed his conjecture,“ Yes, you are.”
“ No. Go ahead and marry her for all I care. I won’t be at the wedding anyway,” you don’t mean what you say and yet you said it anyway. Playing up the indifference act you’ve dawned.
“ You won’t be at my wedding?” He’s not upset when he responds, he's amused. He has to hold back his laughter at your train of thought. This gets under your skin and you grumble a snippy no before picking up your pace. You’re now imagining Darla in a wedding dress next to Bucky in his suit and it does devastating things to you.
“ That’s impossible.”
“ How so? I just won’t go.”
His tone takes a more serious turn when he replies, “ It’ll be hard to have a wedding without the bride there.” You come to a halt, your head whipping so fast to look at him you almost gave yourself whiplash.
“ What?” You manage to find your voice. His gaze softens,“ You heard me, doll.” He’s being completely sincere—you know this deep down. However, there’s still a part of you that doesn’t believe this is happening. That believes this to be a dream.
“ You don’t mean that.”
“ I do. If you were to ask me where I see forever—I see it with you.”
His confession takes your breath away. The mere admission of him thinking of you as his eternity—as the one he wants beside him for life—your heart could burst at how delightfully overwhelmed it feels.
“ But you—” you start and his pointer finger gently presses against your lips to shush you. He already knows what you’re about to bring up and he needs to nip it before your drunken mind jumps to wilder conclusions.
“ She’s just a friend. She’s a secretary at the SSR—nothing more. I was dancing with her to be nice. Honestly, I was trying to find a polite way to leave her and get back to you until I saw you dancing with that guy,” he removes his finger from your lips once he’s done explaining. At the mention of Thomas, his jaw clenches briefly and annoyance flashes in his eyes.
It dawns on you why he was glaring at Thomas earlier. The realization of Bucky having felt as jealous as you did sends your heart ablaze. Your heart had gone through so much tonight, you were surprised it hadn’t gone into cardiac arrest already.
“ Who’s the jealous one now?” you tease, an almost giddy smile on your face.
Bucky rolls his eyes playfully,“ Yeah, doll. Unlike you, I’ll admit it. I was jealous. I don’t like seeing you with another man. Laughing and dancing—should've been me, not him,” he says stepping closer to you. His eyes reflected pure adoration.
“ Why didn’t you ask me?” your question comes out quieter than you’d like. Enamored with the way he’s looking at you. You can barely focus on anything else.
“ Because when it comes to you I get all nervous and worked up. It's like I’m a punk again—a dumb kid with a crush. I don’t want to mess it up with you, Y/n. I would never want to do anything to lose you. Guess I got too caught up in doing things right I didn’t do anything at all,” Bucky opens up to you, his answer shedding away any last bit of hesitance in your body.
“ Bucky…I wish it would’ve been you instead too,” you say softly, stepping closer until you’re only a few inches away from him. His features match yours in fondness as he gently reaches out to grab hold of your waist, pulling you even closer, and closing the final bit of distance between you.
Your hands rest delicately at his chest. You can feel the way his heart races under your fingertips, drawing out a small gasp from you. Knowing you had this effect on him delighted you. It made you wonder how long you had been making him feel this way—and how long you had missed the signs.
“ Told you. I’m a dumb kid with a crush,” he reiterates with a soft chuckle. You giggle at his words, beaming dreamily at the way that all of this is real. That Bucky has feelings for you, and you two can only grow closer from here on out.
For a split second his eyes dart to your mouth. Having you so close like this tempts Bucky to no end. Everything he’s ever wanted to do with you crosses his mind and it drives him crazy. He has no idea where to start or if he’ll even let himself start anywhere.
Your body thrums with anticipation as it waits for him to make a move.
Bucky ends up tenderly kissing your forehead, “ Come on, doll. Let’s get you home.” Your lips form a light pout, disappointed his lips didn’t touch yours. He sees your reaction and he laughs, giving your hips a light squeeze, “ Doll, our first kiss will happen after you get that alcohol out of your system,” he says, one hand reaching up to lightly swipe at your nose—finding you endearing.
“ We’ve already had our first kiss.”
“ Doll we—oh, we have…”
The memory of you two drunkenly kissing in the medical tent on one particularly lonely night during the war flashes through your minds. The already tension between you rising to a palpable form.
There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes,“ Still. If I’m being honest, I’m not stopping at just one kiss. So let’s wait until you’re sober, alright?”
“ Not stopping?” Your tone is playful as you pry for further explanation.
“ Oh no, doll. I'll be doing so much more than kissing you,” he smirks, his words laced with suggestion. His hand goes out to cup your face, caressing your cheek. It warms under his fingertips at his implication. The air around you buzzes with electricity.
He can tell where your mind went and he’s enjoying every second of it,“ Yeah, doll. Like taking you out on a proper date,” he winks at you. A genuine laugh erupts from you at the way he side steps what he really meant. He joins you in the laughter, his eyes telling you the truth of what he really desires.
You. Every bit of you.
You interlace your fingers with his, knowing deep down he has a point. When you kiss Bucky you want to be all there. You want all your senses to be fully awake to drink in every bit of him.
Especially if it goes farther than a kiss.
Bucky moves you over so he’s walking on the outermost part of the sidewalk, holding your interlaced hands to his waist so you’re pressed right up against his side as you walk. You tease and playfully banter all the way to your apartment. The unspoken promises and unmistakable yearning for one another dancing around you two. Assuring you there was so much more to come.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes#bucky fluff#bucky fic#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fic#1940s bucky#bucky barnes x fluff#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes x you#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes x female reader
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guess | spencer reid x reader
wc: 2.3k, rating: explicit/18+
tags/warnings: slight exhibitionism/voyeurism, alcohol consumption (reader is not drunk during sex), lingerie, munch!spencer, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, unprotected sex
a/n: heavily inspired by guess by charli xcx ft. billie eilish, specifically billie's verse. yes the song dropped yesterday. yes i listened to the song once and decided to write a fic about it. i'm insane about s7/8 reid rn so :) (also posted on ao3!)
You swear you don’t mean to show off, but the miniskirt you’re in doesn’t help your case in the slightest.
Spencer had told you to join him at the bar for drinks with his coworkers, the bar just a couple blocks down from the club you were at with your friends. Your boyfriend had been away for most of this week and you really wanted to see him, so you don’t think twice about popping by to see Spencer. Besides, you hadn’t seen Penelope, JJ and Emily in a while either, and those girls treat you too kindly.
You realise how skimpily dressed you are when you walk into the bar, though, when you approach the very properly-dressed group of FBI agents at a booth in the corner. Your top is cropped and low-cut, revealing your cleavage, and you were wearing a little black miniskirt, the hem of which barely skirted the tops of your thighs.
Spencer has never commented on your fashion choices, often being the very satisfied recipient of your sometimes revealing outfits. But as you greet the BAU, his eyes are dark and hungry as they roam your figure. You smile at him with a whispered “Hi, baby,” before you kiss him chastely. The look on Spencer’s face is unreadable, other than the fact that you know he appreciates the view.
His gaze darts up at Derek from across the booth when he whistles at you.
“Looking good, mama.” Derek waggles his eyebrows at you, earning him a smack to the chest from Penelope and a hearty chuckle from Emily.
You lean over to hug JJ, Penelope and Emily in that order on the other side of the table, and you feel Spencer’s hand quickly snake across your waist, pulling you back to sit down. You glance over at him briefly, but he only keeps his gaze straight ahead.
“You are one lucky guy, Reid,” Emily laughs, and you feel Spencer’s arm curl around you tighter, pulling you in closer.
The rest of the night is pretty fun, cracking jokes and talking with Spencer’s team, but with the alcohol in your system from earlier, it only takes a few more drinks for you to get drunk. You’re extra giggly, half-sitting in Spencer’s lap, his hand not leaving your side. You feel the rumble in his chest when he speaks, saying, “I think we’re going to head home first. This one here seems a little drunk already.”
“I’m not drunk,” you lilt, rolling your eyes. You lay your head on Spencer’s shoulder, blinking hard before you meet Penelope’s gaze. You hear Emily defending you about how you aren’t drunk, but Penelope smiles at you and says, “I think boy genius is right.”
You frown deeply, almost comically so. “Penny! You’re supposed to back me up here!”
Penelope laughs, always so kind to you. “Come on, honey. Let Reid take you home.”
You huff, crossing your arms like a petulant child. You don’t notice the way Spencer’s gaze darts down to your chest shamelessly. Derek whistles, and you assume Spencer must glare at him because Derek is raising his hands in surrender, telling Spencer he doesn’t mean anything. What were they even talking about? You don’t know, but Spencer is murmuring in your ear about getting a taxi home, and after you say goodbye to all of his friends, you’re letting him guide you out of the bar and into the cool night.
You shiver, the very little fabric you have on not doing you any favours when the temperature drops. Spencer is quick to shrug off his jacket and help you put it on. His jacket is long enough on you, considering Spencer’s height, to cover your skirt.
“I swear alcohol’s supposed to warm you up,” you grumble, holding your arms close to your chest as you try to stay warm. “I’m fucking freezing.”
“You feel warmer for a bit because the alcohol is a vasodilator – it causes the blood vessels under your skin to dilate, increasing blood flow, which makes you feel warmer. If you drink more, the higher levels of alcohol actually work to shrink your blood vessels instead and make you feel cold. Do you have a headache?”
You shake your head, but take the chance to snuggle up to Spencer now. “You feel nice and warm.”
“Good,” Spencer says, holding you close. In no time, he flags down a taxi, and you two pile in and drive towards his apartment.
Spencer’s hand is drawing circles into the side of your thigh, mindless, but the touch is incredibly distracting. You ask him softly, “You’ve been touching me all night, Spence. Something on your mind?”
“You,” he whispers back. “Can’t stop thinking about your underwear.”
You squeak at his brazenness, smacking his chest. “You– Spencer!”
“I got a good look when you were practically bent over the table just now,” Spencer continues, his voice a low rumble in his throat. “Didn’t even give me a chance to guess.”
You gape at him like a fish, but Spencer smiles and murmurs in your ear, “You know how much I love when you wear that lacy black pair.”
You bite down on your lip, trying not to moan like a whore in the back of this taxi. You just look at him, silently wishing he’d do something. Spencer presses a kiss to your jaw, and you feel your cheeks heat.
Thankfully, the driver is quick to announce that you’re at your destination, and you and Spencer stumble out of the cab quicker than you’d like to admit. Spencer doesn’t even wait for his change before he slams the car door shut.
Spencer crowds you against the back of the elevator, an old, rickety thing with no camera, so you feel less bad when Spencer slips his hand under your skirt and past your panties, his finger sliding between your wet folds. “Spencer!”
“You’re so wet for me already,” Spencer groans, kissing down your neck desperately. His fingers are so tantalising, rubbing up against your clit, your hole. “You’re so sexy.”
“Spencer,” you whine. “Hurry up and fuck me.”
The elevator doors creak open on Spencer’s floor. “Let’s go, then.”
Spencer barely locks the door behind you before he’s kissing you, eager and sloppy and desperate. It’s so hot, his large hands on your waist pulling you closer to him, and you feel the growing problem in the front of his pants.
“Spencer,” you moan. You feel his hands push up your skirt, feel him wedge his leg between your thighs. You must be soaked through your underwear by now, and you shamelessly rut your hips forward to grind against his leg.
“You know I love your fashion sense, my love, but this is slutty even for you.” Spencer’s voice is dark when he says it, and you whimper. “You’re dressed like you want somebody else’s attention.”
Your eyes widen and you look up at him. “No!”
“Derek was eyeing you like a piece of meat earlier. Emily, too.” Spencer frowns.
“I only want you, baby,” you insist, holding onto Spencer’s arms. “Only want you to notice me.”
“I am the only one who knows the colour of your underwear,” Spencer hums, his fingers skirting the waistband of your panties. “And fuck, you look good in them.”
“Please, Spence,” you whine, your plea lilting off into a gasp as Spencer lifts you, getting you to wrap his legs around him. You’d seen how he looked when he was younger, so scrawny he looked like he’d get swept away if the wind blew too hard, but now, he’s got more meat on his bones. His body is a pleasure to look at, let alone feel under your hands, which you’re happy to do now.
You touch the firm lines of his body through his shirt, as Spencer carries you to his bedroom. You mumble, hands frisky, “You’re so hot.”
“Says you,” Spencer smiles. “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby.”
You grin as he lays you on his bed, gasping when he slides his palm over your wet cunt through your underwear. His thumb flicks over your clit through the lace, the material dulling the electrifying sensation. you whine, “Spencer, please.”
Spencer tsks, looking down at you. “Let me take my time with you, darling. You’ve been teasing me all evening.”
He presses his thumb against your clit a little harder, making you moan loudly. While he tends to tower over you in bed, you also deeply appreciate the view of him getting on his knees so he can make a home between your thighs. His hair is wild, unruly, and you run your hand through it, admiring it. Keeping your gaze, Spencer leans down to kiss your pussy.
You feel his warm breath on you, the scratch of his stubble on your skin, pinned down simply by his gaze as his tongue darts out to lick you over your underwear. You whimper, as Spencer wraps his arms around each of your thighs, using you as an anchor as he presses his face between your legs.
You sob, because what Spencer’s giving you just isn’t enough, not when you need to feel his tongue on your cunt. He thumbs at your hole through the fabric, dipping into your wetness in a cruel approximation of the pleasure he usually gives you.
“Fuck me,” you groan. “Take my panties off already.”
“Not yet,” Spencer hums. Instead, he pushes your panties to the side, lets his fingers slide over your cunt. You gasp at the sensation, his rough, calloused fingers sliding over your wetness, and then you feel the warmth of his tongue.
The sounds his mouth makes as he eats you out are filthy, obscene. His tongue flicks over your cunt with a practised precision, familiar with what makes you tick, the wet, slick sounds too overwhelming. Your toes are curling with how good Spencer makes you feel – legs trembling, breathing heavy. You can’t stop the whimpers that leave your lips, almost helpless in the way you moan for him.
“Please,” your voice is shaky as you cry out for Spencer. “I need you so bad, baby."
Spencer hums against your cunt, the vibrations sending shocks up your spine in your pleasure. “Okay, my darling.”
Finally, finally, he’s sitting up and pulling your panties down, your little skirt still pushed up to expose your cunt. You look up at him, silently wondering why he hasn’t taken it off. He plays with the soft fabric in his hands almost absentmindedly and says, “I think we should keep it on.”
You blink up at him, not coherent enough to say anything about it. Instead, you watch him take his shirt off – you whistle at the sight, while he just rolls his eyes. He unbuckles his belt and push his pants down, his cock bobbing up, hard and red and leaky. You bite your lip, thinking about how he’ll feel inside of you.
“Kiss me,” you whine, and Spencer smiles at you. He tastes of you when his lips press against yours, and he’s quick to deepen it, his tongue in your mouth, like he's close to devouring you whole.
While he kisses you hungrily, you feel his hand between your legs, moving to line himself up with your entrance. You moan as the blunt head of his cock presses up against your hole, the sensation you’ve been craving all evening. Cruelly, he rubs up against you just like that, sliding between your folds but not giving you the satisfaction you need. You’re close to biting his head off.
“Spencer–” you start, but Spencer decides to press his cock into you right at that moment, and you sob with the way his thick length splits you open. Every time he fucks you, you feel like he was made for you, filling you up in all the right ways, feeling so perfect on top of you, inside of you.
You meet his lips and kiss him lazily as he starts to thrust into you, at the perfect pace, just deep enough to hit all the right spots. It’s too good, Spencer knowing you and your pleasure like the back of his hand.
“Fuck,” Spencer groans against your mouth, finally showing some sign of his unravelling. “You’re so tight, darling.”
You gasp, groaning his name, legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, feeling like you could fuse into one person with how much you’re clinging onto him. You press your forehead to his shoulder, moans punched out of you with every one of Spencer’s thrusts.
“Feels– Feels so good, Spence, love you,” you cry.
“I love you too,” Spencer groans, voice low and rumbly in his chest. “You’re so perfect, my love.”
You sob as your orgasm hits you, crashing into you like a tidal wave. You shake as you come, feeling so positively overwhelmed with the way Spencer fucks you, the way he holds you, the way he kisses you. You can’t feel your legs as you come down from your high, head spinning with all the pleasure. “Spence…”
“I’m– Fuck–” Spencer’s tripping over his own words as he comes right alongside you, your clenched pussy sending him over the edge too. He blows his load deep inside you, sticky and hot and so satisfying. You can feel how hard he’s breathing as your mind clears, his arms trembling as he holds himself up so he doesn’t end up collapsing onto you.
“You’re perfect,” you hum in Spencer’s ear, soft and gentle as you kiss the side of his head. You pull him in close, letting him rest his weight onto you, and your hand goes to stroke his hair softly. “So good. I love you.”
“Thank you. I love you more,” Spencer groans, his voice a little raspy already. “I’m sorry if I was too possessive over you in front of my friends tonight."
“All is forgiven, especially since you were sexy as fuck,” you grin up at him. “You’re always sexy.”
“Says the girl in a miniskirt and black lace panties.” Spencer smiles.
“All the more I know what I’m talking about, then,” you giggle, before kissing him slow.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x fem reader
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Casual - Spencer Reid
for the CM friends with benefits challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins <3
pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (no use of y/n)
You thought that your sexcapades with Spencer Reid had meant more to him like they did to you, but after a couple of run ins with his BAU teammates you learn that he really meant 'no attachments.'
word count: just over 5k
content: smut (this is sinful whoops) MINORS DNI - 18+ ONLY: oral (fem receiving), public (ish) sexual acts, unprotected PIV, established FWB situation, drinking (just to the point of being tipsy, consent is still given), language, anxiety, angst.
dividers by @firefly-graphics
now playing: casual by chappell roan
“You finally made it!” your friend Maddie exclaimed gleefully as you walked into the latest bar that she had decided your small group of friends should try out that evening.
Maddie’s girlfriend Celeste elbowed you gently in the ribs before teasingly asking, “Were you hooking up with Mr. FBI agent again?”
“That’d be, what? The fourth time this month?” Adrianna asked, a slight slur already in her words. She threw an arm around your shoulders and winked exaggeratedly before adding, “And it’s only the fifteenth! Get it girl!”
“Ha ha, very funny, let’s all gang up on the girl with the best sex life here,” you joked, forcing a smile onto your lips despite the pang of hurt that shot through your gut at the comments. You grabbed a drink menu off the bar’s counter before heading back to your group’s claimed table for the evening, telling your friends, “I actually picked up an extra shift which is why I’m late and Doctor FBI agent is out of state on a case.”
“Awe, she knows when he’s out on a case, how sweet!” Celeste teased before winking and taking a sip of her brightly colored drink.
“You three are impossible!” you said with a roll of your eyes as you stood up from your spot once more to escape the conversation and order your drink at the bar - a raspberry frozen margarita with sugar rim. Luckily when you got back to the table with your drink, the conversation had turned to Maddie discussing the latest drama at her job, so you sat back and relaxed as you sipped on your first drink of the night.
“I can’t believe we finished all that paperwork in time to actually go out tonight,” Derek Morgan said as he stretched his arms, stepping out of his car and into the crisp evening air as he once more met up with the other BAU members at a bar the group gravitated toward when they had time to celebrate wins on cases.
“Realistically it would have been nearly impossible for us to not get our work done in a timely manner. We got back from the case at ten AM and were all well rested after the flight, so our brains were all in ideal condition to finish the paperwork on time, even accounting for some delays in productivity due to jet lag,” Spencer Reid rambled off as they all walked into the bar, offering a small smile as some of his teammates rolled their eyes playfully in response.
“Well all I know is that I’m getting a bottle of wine to celebrate wrapping that case,” Emily Prentiss commented as she dug through her purse.
“What about you, pretty boy? Planning on drinking tonight?” Derek asked as he gently shoulder checked the younger man.
“Just water,” Spencer replied. “Did you know that during long plane rides you can easily get dehydrated? The humidity within the cabin is usually around ten to twenty percent which is lower than the usual thirty to sixty percent that our bodies are used to. The lower level of humidity causes water to be drawn out of the body and the thirst reflex is diminished so you drink less water while at the same time losing more. I’m surprised that as a team we aren’t more dehydrated overall.”
The conversation was dropped as the team got their drinks ordered and then settled into a round booth at the back of the bar. As Spencer took a sip from his water, his eyes scanned the bar’s patrons to see if there were any people they may have to watch out for as the night goes on and more drinks are consumed. The water he was sipping on suddenly went down the wrong pipe though as he spotted a familiar face at the table adjacent to the team’s. It was you hanging out with a few friends, seeming to have not noticed his arrival. He wasn’t too surprised about that though because judging by the glasses on the table you were at least one and a half margaritas in and you already weren’t the most observant person when you were distracted anyway.
“Everything okay, Spence?” JJ asked while she patted Spencer’s back.
Derek’s eyes tracked where Spencer’s had landed and he smirked as he announced to the table, “Pretty boy just saw the girl he bangs on his couch.”
There was a quiet cacophony of responses to Derek’s comment the moment it fell from his lips. “Remind me to not sit on your couch ever again,” Emily Prentiss commented with a quiet laugh. “Ooh Spence, how serious is this thing?” JJ asked in a sly tone. “I’m glad you found someone, kid,” David Rossi said with a nod and a toast of his glass. “As long as it isn’t going to affect you at work,” their unit chief Aaron Hotchner commented sternly. “Spencer’s dating someone? Why did Derek know this and I didn’t?” Penelope Garcia asked with wide eyes.
Spencer didn’t respond immediately, suddenly overwhelmed by the barrage of comments, so Derek took a moment to dig the hole even deeper by adding, “He made me swear not to tell baby girl.” He got a mischievous look on his face as he continued, “But one time when I was at his place getting his go bag while he was busy in the shooting range, I found a bra in his dresser. It took some time but I finally got an answer out of him and it turns out this has been going on for a few months now.”
“Spencer Reid!” Penelope scolded while leaning over and playfully swatting at his hand. “How could you not tell me? You know I would have run a background check on her to make sure everything checked out!”
“Everyone slow down!” Spencer said, putting his hands up which caused the noise at the table to die down. “She quite literally ran into me at a coffee shop a few months back but I didn’t tell anyone because, well…we aren’t together. It’s just a casual thing.”
“Just casual? Is she okay with that?” JJ asked, quirking an eyebrow up in question.
“She hasn’t said anything against it,” Spencer replied. He glanced over at you laughing with your friends one more time before shaking his head and asking, “Can we change the subject?”
“Whatever you want, player,” Derek said with a chuckle before the conversation moved on to whatever the latest sports news was, prompted by Derek’s reaction to something happening on one of the many TVs hanging around the room.
Later that night after you had your fair share of appetizers and drinks, your friends were all starting to head home for the evening. “Thank you for coming, we need to do this again soon!” Celeste told you with a fake stern look before she giggled and leaned over into Maddie’s side.
“We do!” you agreed as you grabbed your glass to finish off the last bit of your drink. “Get home safe!”
“You too!” Maddie said as she attempted to steady Celeste. “You’re calling a cab right?”
“Of course,” you told her with a nod, raising your glass in a toast as the pair headed off toward the door, following Adrianna outside.
After finishing off your drink, you stood up, trying to balance as well as you could as you grabbed your clutch off of the table and went to the bar to pay off your tab. You weren’t completely drunk, but you were definitely tipsy and you were naturally clumsy, so nights like this were always an interesting time, especially when you were in heels. When you got to the bar to pay though, you were surprised to be informed that your tab was already paid for. “Who did that?” you asked the bartender, your eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. Adrianna was just about finished with but still in law school and Celeste was a teacher so you could never ask them to pay for your drinks. Maddie was a paralegal and made a good salary but still, you made enough on your own to pay for your drinks, so who…?
Your question was answered though when you felt a familiar pair of hands glide along your waist and land on your hips. You turned your head the slightest bit and an immediate heat flooded your body as you whispered, “Spencer… Hi. I thought I heard your voice earlier. When did you get back?” Your emotions were conflicted at his sudden appearance because you had overheard him talking with his group of friends earlier and it had honestly upset you, but now that he was practically wrapped around you, your mind flooded with memories of his hands on your body in the most intimate way…
“Just got back this morning. The team met up here to celebrate and I was surprised to see you here,” he replied. His voice lowered and his lips grazed the shell of your ear as he mumbled, “You look irresistible in that dress by the way.”
“I…Thank you,” you breathed, feeling your heart rate increase as his hands massaged your hips. “And thanks for paying for my drinks, you didn’t have to…”
“But I wanted to,” he told you, gently nipping at your ear lobe which made your cunt clench around nothing in desperation for more of his touch. Truth be told, it had been a week since you and Spencer last hooked up and you hated to admit that you had gotten dependent on his touch lately.
Your impure thoughts were interrupted by a low whistle piercing the air, and your head snapped in the direction it came from, to see two people you recognized from pictures in Spencer’s apartment. They must be from the BAU as well. You made eye contact with the perky looking blonde woman and offered a smile as the man beside her asked, “Pretty boy, why don’t you introduce us to your friend here?”
“Oh, I-I thought everyone had left,” Spencer said, instantly making space between the two of you. You looked at Spencer’s panicked expression that quickly changed into something more neutral as he introduced you by name and then said to you, “These are two other members of the BAU. Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia.”
“It’s nice to meet you two,” you told them, a smile on your face as you raised your hand in greeting. “Penelope, you’re the tech girl right?” you asked after a few moments of going through your memories of what little Spencer had told you about his job.
“That’s me! Resident tech genius because boy genius here refuses to get to know technology!” she replied chipperly.
“Oh trust me, I know,” you said with a giggle, leaning into Spencer’s side as you remembered the last time you two had gotten lonely at the odd hours of night and wanted to video chat each other to get off. Spencer struggled to get the video call to work and it had ended up being muted for a few minutes before you finally got him to unmute himself so you could hear everything his surprisingly filthy mouth had to say to you.
“Well it’s nice to finally meet the girl who is getting pretty boy out of his shell,” Derek said, flashing you an award winning smile.
“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m glad you all are keeping him safe out there in the field,” you replied.
“All in a day’s work,” Derek said with a chuckle. He checked his watch before exaggeratedly yawning and telling Penelope, “Well baby girl, I think we should get going. Don’t want to hold these two up any longer than we already have. You two have a good one.”
“Thanks Derek,” Spencer mumbled as he watched the pair walk off and out the door. You watched as Spencer’s eyes did another sweep of the bar before his attention was back on you, turning you toward him and pulling you into his front, his hands snaking their way around to your ass and giving a light squeeze as he returned to kissing your ear and neck.
Your hopeful thoughts from the conversation with Derek and Penelope were instantly abandoned and replaced instead by flashes of your intimate moments with Spencer over the last few months. Your hands drifted upward with one resting on his shoulder and the other lacing into his cropped hair as you let out a quiet moan in Spencer’s ear before asking, “Take me home?”
“God yes,” Spencer whispered, pulling away and turning you around so you were in front of him. To anyone watching it would look like he was simply helping you keep your balance as the alcohol in your system continued to impair your coordination, but only you knew the real reason for the closeness. So as you walked the block to the parking lot, you occasionally let your ass rub against the growing problem in Spencer’s slacks which earned low groans and a squeeze of your hips as you two made your way to Spencer’s car which was tucked away at the back of the lot away from other cars.
When you got there, Spencer pinned you against the side of his car and his lips were on yours in an instant. After a few seconds, he pulled away for a moment and between panting breaths he asked, “Is this okay? You’ve been drinking, I didn’t want to-”
“You aren’t taking advantage of me,” you promised before he could complete his sentence. “I only had two margaritas and a shot and a ton of food. If you want to breathalyze me, agent, go ahead, but I promise you I’m all here and I’ve missed your hands on me.” As you said this, you carefully hooked one leg around Spencer’s waist and pulled your hips closer together with a smirk gracing your lips.
“I trust you,” he whispered before your lips crashed together again. You once more laced one hand into his curls and used the other to pull him closer as your tongues began lapping into each other’s mouth, desperation and pure need guiding your actions. Shocks of pleasure began flowing down to your core and you felt light headed as Spencer rutted his hips into yours, seemingly desperate for any sort of friction. The moment that his hard cock brushed against your cunt you let out another moan that was swallowed by Spencer’s mouth before he was moving one of his hands from the grip he had on your ass.
Within seconds you heard the tell-tale sign of the car doors unlocking and Spencer was opening the door for you to get in. Rather than going over to his side to quickly drive to one of your apartments though, he instead pulled at the levers at the base of the passenger seat and began scooting the seat backward and flat, sending you into a near laying position and dizzying your senses. “Spencer, what-?” you asked as you regained your composure after a few moments.
“I can’t wait,” was his reply before he began tucking himself into the now more open floorboard and pulling your panties down your legs.
“What about- What if we’re caught-? Your job-!” you managed to get out in clipped sentences.
“No cameras, no cars near us, it’s fine,” he replied quickly. “I just need to taste you,” he added, his voice almost dark with desire which had your cunt clenching around nothing again as your own desire overtook your anxiety about getting caught.
He hooked your legs over his shoulders and pulled your hips close to his face before you felt the flat of his tongue on you, going from your entrance to your clit before he stopped there and began focusing on your most sensitive bundle of nerves. You let out a sinful noise as one hand gravitated toward his hair to hold him close as he began sucking on your clit, not wanting to let go of the feeling.
After a few breathtaking moments, Spencer pulled away slightly and mumbled, “You’re so wet, fuck…” The vibrations of his voice on your core made a high pitched cry escape your lips and he chuckled before asking, “You like that?”
“God yes,” you replied breathlessly as your chest heaved as the pleasure began to build already in the pit of your stomach. “I missed you,” you found yourself confessing as your hips bucked up to meet his tongue as he returned to his assault of your dripping cunt. Spencer’s only response was to shift and add two fingers to the mix which caused you to cry out his name as he hooked them skillfully, hitting the spot he knew could make you fall apart within seconds if he got it just right. “Oh fuck, right there- Spencer, I- shit…”
“Come on baby,” he mumbled against you as his long fingers began stroking his target within you, causing the tight coiling feeling in your abdomen to increase more and more.
It all became too much when Spencer began kitten licking at your clit at the same time and the coil snapped, sending waves of pleasure crashing over your body as your orgasm ripped through you. A loud moan slipped past your lips as your grip on his hair tightened and Spencer pulled his fingers out quickly before beginning to lap at your cunt like a man starved, holding down your erratically bucking hips as you slowly began coming down from your high. Overstimulation took over after a few moments and you gently pushed Spencer’s head away as you panted, trying to catch your breath. Spencer obliged, pulling away and wiping his face with the back of his hand before sucking the remnants of you from his fingers as he chuckled.
You joined in on his laughter after a few seconds and the question that had been on your mind all night slipped past your lips, “Is it casual now?” Knowing it was a loaded question though, you panicked and quickly pulled Spencer up and into a kiss before he could answer. For good measure, you made sure to keep him preoccupied by teasing him as he drove you back to your apartment where he made sure to thoroughly make up for his week away on the case.
A few weeks had passed and you were out with your girls again to celebrate Adrianna finally graduating law school. It had been a long and arduous journey for her, but she made it! So before she had to buckle down once more to study for the bar exam, the four of you went out to a nice, new Italian restaurant that had opened only a couple of weeks prior. The restaurant had great reviews, and most importantly to Adiranna, an excellent wine list. So the four of you celebrated with delicious pasta, only one glass of wine for you, and began on dessert - a tiramisu that smelled heavenly.
As the dessert was being brought out by what seemed like half the kitchen staff who were all warmly congratulating Adrianna, your eyes drifted past them when you heard a distinct nickname being called out teasingly from across the restaurant. Pretty boy. You made eye contact with the man in question and like an instinct your heart rate began to increase and heat began to pool down into your core. It was a Pavlovian response at this point, as Spencer had explained to you the first time you brought up the fact that you would get turned on at the mere sight of him, even if it was in no way sexual. You averted your eyes a moment later and bit your lip as you shifted in your seat, thighs rubbing together to try and alleviate some of the tension building in your core.
“You okay?” Maddie’s voice asked, breaking through the flashes of when Spencer dragged five orgasms out of you that night after the bar.
“Just a headache, red wine doesn’t really agree with me,” you told in a half-truth. Red wine really wasn’t your forte, but it was what Adrianna wanted so that’s what you had been sipping on slowly throughout the meal. “I think I’m gonna head to the restroom to take a Motrin, I’ll be back. Maybe the lights will be a bit less harsh in there.”
“Maybe so. I’ll make sure to save you some tiramisu,” Maddie said as you stood up and began making your way across the restaurant to where you noticed the restrooms were earlier. You weren’t really going to the restroom to take some medicine or get away from what really wasn’t even that harsh of lighting in the dining area. There was some part of you that hoped that even from across the restaurant Spencer could tell that you needed him and would get the message to meet you in there.
Of course as you passed the table Spencer was at, it was filled with the rest of the BAU members, most of whose attention was on the man animatedly talking about the wine and pasta selections. You thought you had gone unnoticed until you heard a low wolf whistle before the comment, “Go and get some loving, pretty boy.”
“Shut it!” you heard the distinct voice of Penelope snap as you kept your head down and made your way to your destination.
Right as your hand reached up to push the restroom door open, you looked back to see if Spencer had followed you like you hoped, and to your body’s joy he did. Glancing at his lips as he wet them with his tongue, you felt the dampness in your underwear growing as your breathing began to pick up its pace along with your heart. “Hey,” you said simply.
“Did you want to-?” was all Spencer asked before you nodded vigorously which earned you his lips as he gently pushed you into the single person restroom before locking the door. Spencer’s hands were on you in an instant, one diving into the low v-cut of your dress and beginning to massage your breast, thumb flicking over your already hard nipple as you moaned into his mouth. “If I knew you would have been here I may have dressed a bit nicer,” Spencer commented as he moved from kissing your lips to your neck, your hands desperately roaming his frame as he explored yours.
“You always look amazing,” you told him earnestly as he hiked you up onto the sink’s counter space and pulled the strap of your dress down your shoulder so he would have better access to your chest. “Oh, God, Spencer…” you whispered as he took your sensitive bud into his mouth and began sucking. It wasn’t long before he moved on from the nipple to the surrounding skin and started to bite and suck which you desperately hoped would leave a mark. You loved it when he marked you because it made things feel more permanent, even if just for a few days.
Before you knew it, your legs were being nudged apart and Spencer’s fingers were teasing your entrance as he asked, “Are you ready?”
“Please,” you begged. The sound was breathy and high-pitched, but you didn’t care much about how desperate you sounded because you knew the sounds you made drove Spencer crazy.
“Turn around,” he said in a low voice as he helped you jump off of the counter. You didn’t even get the opportunity to tease Spencer or spread his own arousal over his head before you were being bent over the counter with your panties pushed aside as he quickly shoved into your throbbing core. Your moan was muffled as Spencer’s large hand came around and covered your mouth and he gritted out, “We don’t have long.”
You whimpered into Spencer’s hand as he pounded into you from behind, your exposed breast occasionally grazing against the cold countertop causing the most delicious mix of pleasure to course through your body. He always felt so big from behind and tonight was no exception, but the rate and rhythm that he was going at had the coil in your core building quickly. “Spencer, oh, fuck! I-”
“I’m close too,” was Spencer’s grunted out response as the grip he had on your hip tightened as his thrusts began to get sloppy. You don’t know if it was because of the prospect of getting caught, or what, but after a few more thrusts, Spencer was already losing it, whispering, “Baby, I- Shit, shit, shit! I’m coming, fuck-”
You felt his hot release filling you up and you let out a moan in response, so close to your own peak, but instead of continuing his ministrations like he normally would, Spencer pulled out and began cleaning himself up. You stood there speechless for a moment, still bent over the counter with your heart racing and chest heaving as you recovered from your almost orgasm. Spencer had never left you hanging like that. Maybe to edge you to try and get your body to do what it still hadn’t managed to, but never to deny you an orgasm.
Spencer approached you from behind once more and recovered your core with your underwear before beginning to straighten up your dress to help you look presentable. He turned you around and placed a gentle kiss on your lips before chuckling and telling you, “I think you may want to fix your makeup a bit.”
“I-I will,” you quietly agreed with a nod, watching as he ducked his head and left you in the bathroom alone, hot, bothered, and honestly a bit pissed off. You quickly relocked the door and went to the restroom, trying to rid your underwear and body of the traces he left behind with his abrupt finish. After cleaning up, you went to work fixing your makeup as best you could and hoped that with all of the wine in their system your friends wouldn’t notice that it was slightly less perfect than when the night began.
As you quietly made your way out of the restroom, you froze when you heard Derek’s voice coming from around the corner as he asked, “That love toy of yours treating you well?”
Your blood ran cold as Spencer responded, “Oh, I- uh- Yeah. She is.”
“My man!” Derek said with a bright laugh before the conversation was prompted to return to non-sexual topics by someone else at the table.
You felt your shoulders slump as your eyes casted themselves down to the floor and you just wanted a sinkhole to open up beneath you and swallow you whole. A sense of dread began to fill your body and your head began to feel heavy as your anxiety started to climb. Trying to breathe through the dizzying feeling, you kept your eyes down as you made your way past the table Spencer was sat at. When you reached your friends, you offered a small smile before telling them, “The headache is just getting worse, I think I need to get going. I’m sorry to be a downer…”
“Hey it’s okay! Get to feeling better!” Maddie told you, offering a smile to try and comfort you.
“Thanks,” you said as you reached into your small purse and pulled out a few bills that should more than cover your fair share of the meal. “Congrats again, Adri. You earned it!” you told her with a fake chipperness in your voice that you hoped was convincing.
Once that exchange was over, you quickly made your way out of the restaurant and into the cool night air, trying to convince your lungs to take deep breaths before a full blown panic attack set in. You should have known that all of this with Spencer was too good to be true. You should have known that he just wanted you for sex and nothing more.
Even though you know you shouldn’t have, after that night meeting Derek and Penelope, you had let your mind wander just a bit and had imagined a little life with Spencer. An apartment smack between both of your jobs, going to the movies together, reading in silence on the couch, maybe even him showing you off at some team party after they closed a particularly hard case. But clearly none of that was in the cards for him… It was just a fantasy you had built in your head.
How did you let this drag on for so long? You pride yourself on being a strong and independent person and for the longest time had sworn off dating after the last disaster that had ruined your life. Yet here you were letting Spencer come crashing into your life, upturning everything you had built for yourself. A searing hatred started to rise in your chest, but it wasn’t directed toward Spencer. It was for yourself.
Your thoughts were interrupted though when a gentle hand was placed on your upper arm to get your attention. Just turning to look at Spencer made you dizzy once again and you braced yourself against the building to keep from falling. “Are you okay?” Spencer asked. “You’re still on the pill right? I didn’t even think about asking, I-”
“Yes I’m still on the stupid pill,” you choked out through your tight throat that felt like it was threatening to close up any moment.
“Then what’s-?” he tried but you interrupted him.
“I just thought you thought of me better than a ‘love toy…’” you whispered, the sound barely audible.
Spencer reached for your hand and squeezed it gently which made your heart soar, but it came crashing down once again when he softly reminded you, “No attachments, remember?”
Panic reared its ugly head again as that dreadful feeling threatened to overwhelm you. So before you could break down in front of Spencer in front of the restaurant, you jerked your hand away and sharply told him, “You can go to Hell, Spencer Reid…”
a/n: phew, that was... something! i think i need to go touch some grass... anyways, when i was plotting this, i couldn't help but think of another song that ended up causing their backstory, so i'm going to start writing a part two to this called 'butterfly effect' because i don't like unhappy endings. i hope to see you there! likes and comments are always appreciated!
xo, brooke :)
part two - butterfly effect
#mentioningmargins#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#criminal minds oneshot#criminal minds#spencer reid angst
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Lover’s Rock~ S. Reid

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader
Summary: Spencer isn’t the only one that stands out in the crowd, but maybe that’s a good thing, because that’s what leads him to you.
Warnings: I didn’t really proof read, I’ll do it later lol. 18+ content towards the end. Um Reid is such a dweeb and adorable???? Fluff, mentions of alcohol and embarrassment. Reader is so twee (can we bring twee back or no?) idk she makes questionable fashion choices.

Really, this wasn’t your thing.
The bar scene, the club dresses all the girls where, the high heels and the whole game of cat and mouse that all the guys want to play. But you’re here, you made an effort to appease your best friends who claim you have no social life.
The entire night so far, they watched you strike out with the guys they motioned over because in their mind, you’re desperate and lonely and lame.
Okay, maybe that’s more of your headspace than theirs, but they’ve been offering you pity glances this whole time.
You’ve made a decision a while ago that maybe there was no romance out there for you. You were just born with some aspect that made normal, sane guys physically run away, and maybe that’s fine. You were really good on your own. And it never did feel right when you had a guy, if it didn’t feel like the movies, it wasn’t worth it.
Right?
Okay, maybe you should settle, at some point, you’ll be too old to marry and you’ll just keep working, with no real life and take care of Shelly, your goldfish. Maybe it won’t be perfect, but it’ll be someone to share things with.
You let out a huff and watch the ice melt in your drink, not bothering to smile when your friend tells you to brighten up.
Normally, you’re a ray of sunshine, but something about getting rejected four consecutive times is raining on your parade.
An entire bar full of happy people in their element, and it’s just you, sticking out like a sore thumb, especially when your friends go dance with a few guys they hit it off with.
Too busy looking at the buckle on the ankle strap of your heel, you are sinking somewhere in your mind, to a place where you aren’t listening to cheap song lyrics of and realizing that table is stickier than you thought.
“Where’s Reid?”
“Reid.”
“Spencer!” Penelope smacks his shoulder, pulling him from the trance of his eyes on the book pages.
He looks up from the corner booth, seeing his team has returned with drinks.
“Are you seriously reading right now?” Morgan criticizes, placing a beer in front of the younger agent.
Spencer doesn’t know why he does this, beer tastes like a plowed hay field in his opinion. But he takes the drink in gratitude and before he can explain that he was just trying to finish the Russian publishing of ‘Crime and Punishment’, Morgan rips the book from his hands and tosses it to Emily for safe keeping.
“I- what was that for?” Spencer questions with a unjust squeak, feeling rather sad.
“Look around, kid, do you see how many fine ladies are here? You don’t need to be sitting here with your nose between the pages of Little Women.” Morgan states as a matter of fact.
“Yeah, nobody puts baby in the corner.” Penelope agrees.
With an airy scoff, Spencer looks to the other members for help, but they all seem to side with Derek.
He gains a defeated frown.
Spencer didn’t want to be here in the first place, now he’s being forced out into the public to socialize. There has to be a law against this, he knows there’s not because he knows everything, but he is certainly going to try and create one.
“Oh come on, Spence, why don’t you try to get a date?” JJ asks, meaning well, but the laugh that comes from Emily makes him want to recoil.
“C’mon, I’ll help you.” Morgan offers, pulling him from the booth seat.
“Yeah, that never really works well when you try to be my wingman, you usually end up with all the phone numbers.” Spencer claims, pressing his lips into a line.
But like some mock savior, Morgan stands behind Reid as they wait by the bar.
“What about her?” Morgan would point out.
To which Reid would respond with some variation of ‘she’s too much’ or ‘she definitely has a boyfriend three times my size’.
After fifteen minutes of this back and forth, Morgan is seriously regretting he forced the hermit out of his shell.
And that’s when a rowdy group finally leaves and clears the path of vision to you.
Still sat at a high table with one leg crossed over the other, you wiggle your foot as you doodle on a drink napkin.
Reid misses whatever Morgan says, and in that air of silence, the agent follows the vision.
“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” Derek chuckles, clapping Reid on the shoulder. “She’s pretty. Go talk to her.”
“What?” Reid looks away. “No, no, I don’t want to disturb her.”
You let out a very bored sigh.
Derek’s brows furrow. “I know you’re some boy genius but you really are dumb sometimes. Everything about that girl is screaming ‘put me outa my misery’.”
Spencer tilts his head slightly, watching you rub your eye and then frown at the way you smudged your already smudged eye liner.
“Okay, maybe you’re right.” He nods. “But…what do I say?”
Derek grins. “Compliment her, ask if she wants another drink, strike up a conversation. It’s easy, man.”
Spencer gets an uneasy feeling in him, but he still braves through it. “Easy for you, maybe.” He mumbles before running a hand through his hair and takes a step towards you.
“Go get her, tiger!” Morgan encourages.
When he returns to the team with the happy news, Penelope asks if Spencer’s gonna do good.
“Oh, definitely not, we’ll be lucky if he doesn’t trip over his own feet on the way over there.” Derek answers, laughing.
But Spencer makes it to you without a stumble, yet his whole plan leaves his mind when he gets to you.
You’re gorgeous, too pretty for him.
“Nice legs.”
Did he just say that?
You look up at him upon hearing his voice, your wide eyes confused.
“I’m sorry?” You question, not sure if you heard this stranger correctly.
He’s a rather handsome stranger.
“No- I mean I like your legs- tights! Not your legs, you have nice legs of course but that’s not- your tights are nice- cool! Different?”
Oh god, he should just walk away now. He’s already messed this whole thing up and surely you think he’s an idiot.
While he’s got an embarrassed look on his face, you look down at the red lace tights you wear under your skirt, something your friends questioned as a fashion choice.
“You really like them?” You ask, voice soft to his ears.
He stops his rambling.
“Yeah, of course I do, I think they’re cool.” He smiles softly.
You can’t help but grin bashfully.
“Every guy I’ve talked to tonight thought they were a little weird, but that’s okay, I kinda like weird.” You admit, watching as he shakes his head.
“People say my socks are weird all the time, don’t feel bad.” He comforts, pulling the material of his pants up so you can see his mismatched socks with funky colors and prints on them.
“Those are cool.” Your approval eases him, giving him just enough reassurance that you aren’t going to scream for help in the next two minutes.
“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid- sorry, force of habit, uh, just Spencer. I-I’m Spencer.” He introduces with the smallest of wave.
Still smiling more than you have the entire night, you greet him. He repeats your name like it has some special meaning, and you’ve never loved the sound of it more.
“I was going to get a drink, what are you having?” He asks, looking at your sweating glass. “Vodka soda? Cherry sour?”
You blush. “It’s actually a shirley temple…I just ate all the cherries out of it already.”
Without hesitation, he nods. “Okay, I’ll be back.”
He leaves you at your table, and then your brief moment of sunshine is clouded once more by doubt. What if he doesn’t come back? What if he drugs your drink and then you wake up in an alley somewhere, missing your wallet and phone and your tights that he thinks are so cool?
This was a bad idea. Dating isn’t for you. He seemed so nice and he’s so attractive but that should have been your first red flag and-
Oh. He’s coming back.
With two shirley temples.
He places them on the table and waits for you to grab one, then he grabs the other and takes a sip.
“You mind if I sit?” He asks.
Feeling a little silly for assuming he was out to maim you, you nod.
“I seriously doubt my friends remember I’m over here, so feel free to stay.” You joke at your expense.
He sits across from you, sparing a glance over his shoulder at his team who make it very obvious that they’re staring.
You study his profile, a shaggy haircut that falls across his forehead, all tousled in an effortless way. His jaw line is defined, round brown eyes that flick back to you. When he catches you looking, he grins once more.
It’s never been so…easy, having a ‘get to know you’ conversation. Questions come without second thoughts, you find yourself laughing, actually laughing.
Playing with your straw, you try to calm your facial expressions, your cheeks are starting to hurt from beaming so much.
“So, Dr. Reid, huh?” You ask, making him let out a small huff of embarrassment.
“That’s what the PhD’s say, yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly feeling really dorky about his immense amount of education.
It’s not dorky to you. Every guy you’ve talked to tonight dropped out of community college because ‘it didn’t align with their career paths’ of selling protein smoothies or working in some ‘underground’ record store.
But here Spencer is, explaining he’s on the behavioral analysis unit for the FBI and he tells you about all the degrees he has. All you can think about as he talks of universities and the academy is, knowledge is such a sexy look on a guy. Sure, you’ve never really liked the underachieving stoners, but usually you’ve been with guys who seem to say “you like school?” when you talk about working towards your Masters degree.
“Wow.” Is all you can say for a moment, clearly shocked and, well, impressed. “I really wasn’t expecting that.”
“That’s what most people say.” He nods, picking the cherry in his drink out by the stem and offering it to you.
By your thankful eyes batting up at him, he’s tempted on going behind the bar and bringing you all the maraschino cherries they have. He quickly turns the conversation around to focus on you so he can focus on something other than the stained color on your lips.
“What about you? What do you do?” He asks.
Compared to his job, yours seems too normal, too mundane. You almost want to avoid the question, never once have you been unsatisfied with your career but now you can’t help it. What if Spencer doesn’t like you because you don’t work for NASA?
That’s ridiculous, because to Spencer, your job makes his adoration grow.
“Oh, I’m just a teacher.” You say, fiddling with a stem in your mouth.
Spencer gains a soft smile. “You could never just be a teacher, teacher’s are important. Well, unless you’re a sucky teacher.”
His joke earns a bubbly giggle and he decides he’d like to hear that sound forever. It’s moments like this that he’s glad to have an eidetic memory.
“I don’t think I’m a sucky teacher so that’s good, my students seem to like me.” You state, pushing your hair behind your ear and dropping the knotted stem onto a napkin.
Spencer finds himself leaning a little closer, body naturally gravitating to your pull. “What do you teach?” He asks.
“I work for my schools gifted children program, so I basically teach kid geniuses advanced core curriculum because they’ve tested out of their normal classes.” You chuckle, oblivious to the way Spencer’s heart warms.
He remains quiet for a bit too long, just staring at you with an honest look, one that makes you feel like you’re turned inside out and bared for him. The panic rises again, you think you must have said something to ruin it.
“I know it’s nothing special-” You begin to say.
“No.” He interrupts, a sure tone. “I-I think it’s great. Really, that’s not an easy job.”
Deep breath out, you’re put at ease.
“I constantly have imposter syndrome, these kids are twelve and bringing up philosophies and mathematical formulas I have to go home and study because I haven’t even learned them yet. Honestly, sometimes I don’t even think they need me there.” You joke lightly, half meaning it but masking that slight insecurity by finishing off your drink.
“They need you.” Spencer assures, an expression showing he’s never been more sure of something. “Believe me, you’re probably the only person they see in a school day that understands them.”
Brows creased, you shake your head, holding his rather intimidating gaze for such puppy dog eyes.
“What makes you so sure?” You question.
Spencer takes in a breath. “Because I know what it’s like to be twelve years old and telling a grown adult about Fermat’s Last Theorem.”
Sometimes, the world has a funny way of putting two people together. For years, you’ve wandered through life and on a random Friday night, feeling a little flushed from the Summer air, here is Spencer Reid, the man of your dreams.
Your friends left some time ago after you assured them you were fine to be left at the place you were just complaining about being. You don’t mind being left with Spencer, in fact, you’re dreading the time you have to go home because it means this moment is over.
“I really would like to live in New York.” You exclaim, somehow have fallen into the rabbit hole of dreams for the future.
“New York’s really cool!” He agrees. “Did you know that they have a homicide rate of 4.48 percent right now? It’s been declining since the nineties.”
You must make some sort of surprised face because his eyes go wide and he quickly tried to recover his odd statement.
“Sorry, my job isn’t really full of happy statistics. But mostly we just find dead prostitutes in alleys in New York.”
His blushed cheeks make your heart flutter in its beats.
“I’m glad I’m not a prostitute.” You giggle, making him chew his bottom lip for a moment.
“Yeah, I’m glad you’re not either.”
By the time the team gets their coats back on with the intention of heading home, they look across the room to see their quirky doctor friend is partaking in very friendly body language.
“Oh my god, look at him.” Emily laughs. “He’s finally using that big IQ of his.”
Penelope, who comes to hold onto Morgan’s arm, grins rather proudly. “It’s like a butterfly finally coming out of its cocoon. It’s…beautiful, actually.”
Derek laughs down at her. “I think that last long island ice tea was a bad idea. Come on, baby, let’s get you home.”
“Good luck, my fine friend.” She calls in the general direction of you and Spencer, but the two of you don’t notice.
JJ ties her hair up and starts to take a few steps forward.
“Where are you going?” Penelope questions.
“To let him know we’re leaving?”
“No!” The team seems to exclaim, all shouting that she cannot disturb the moment Spencer worked rather hard to get to.
She just holds her hands up in defense, then follows after Emily as they leave the bar.
Spencer of course notices the way Prentiss leaves him with an encouraging thumbs up. It makes his get a little bashful, but he nods a goodbye and watches the door shut once more. His attention is brought back to his hand on the table, well, more to the way your pinky brushes against his. You continue to talk about mutual interests and what your apartment in New York would look like, a slight ramble to you that shows you’re very aware of the slight contact.
With some kind of placebo courage he can’t even blame on alcohol, he lets his fingers crawl between yours like that’s where they belong.
The team would definitely laugh at this teenage display, but to the both of you, it’s the perfect amount of reassurance, soft enough to not be too scary.
The attraction is there, Spencer forces himself to profile it just so his negative thoughts can’t prove him wrong. You’re smiling at every word, your eyes seem to stay dilated and focused on his, and he isn’t sure if you even realize the way your heel brushes his ankle every so often.
His profile, often never wrong, is what helps him reach across the slight space to tuck your hair behind your ear so casually as he tells you about his minuscule music taste.
After a few flirty comments, you force yourself yo look away from him just so you can het your breathing under control. Upon this action, you read the watch on his wrist and a frown sets on your lipstick stained lips.
“I should go home before it’s too late to walk.” You sigh, not wanting this moment to end.
He nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Those round eyes he’s starting to really adore look up at him and you chew your lip, almost like you’re waiting for him to do something. Say something.
It takes him entirely too long to figure out what to do. Morgan would be ashamed.
“C-Can I walk you home?” He asks in a rush and in eagerness.
You nod like that’s the best idea you’ve ever heard.
That’s how it leads to you leaning against him like it’s something you do often, walking in step as you ramble on and on about what you have to do to get your classroom ready for the new school year. He listens without annoyance like most guys would, then tells you about books he has that he thinks you might enjoy, books he could part with so you could give them to the students whose reading levels are above what the school provides.
He’s so caring and considerate, making sure he walks closest to the street, lets you be off in your own world and makes sure you don’t run into anything as you constantly gaze up at him. All the way to your building and up the stairs to your apartment door, the two of you are as comfortable with each other like two old friends would be.
That’s what makes your head spin. You just met Spencer and already feel like he’s been in your life for hundreds of years.
You pull your keys from your purse, you unlock the door but don’t make a move to open it.
“I’m really, really, happy that I met you.” You whisper to him as he slightly crowds your space in the door way.
“I am too.” He agrees, heart beating a little faster as your hand presses gently to his chest.
Don’t be crazy, you just met her, she doesn’t want a stranger trying to kiss her, tell her good night, call her tomorrow, maybe you can plan for something next weekend-
His thoughts don’t stand a chance when you wrap your fingers around his tie and gently tug him to your lips.
It’s smooth and warm and has your eyes shutting and your lungs exhaling. His gentle hand cradles your face while the other flexes against your hip.
It just feels so…
So right.
With the slight tilt of your head, the goodnight kiss deepens, you’re molded against him.
His lips part, coaxing yours to do the same, and the feeling of your tongue against his has you slightly teetering backwards. You lean against the door for support, hands roaming into his hair.
You’ve been wanting to run your hands through it all night.
He’s desperate in his movements, like he’s a starved man and you’re enjoying every second of it. His thumb runs over your jaw, you’re pushing away any space between you.
When you decide you’re going to pass out from the lack of oxygen, you pull away, sucking your bottom lip to savor the taste. Spencer still holds your face in his large hands and matches your shallow pants.
It’s all so much. You’re hot, brain a little foggy, but still so sure of this situation.
And you soon find yourself saying something you’ve never ever said after just meeting a guy.
“Do you want to come inside?”
Spencer seriously thinks he misheard you.
“Yeah- yes. Yes, I do.” He nods.
A laugh escapes your lips, one he swallows up as he embraces you once more, trying to help you open the door. His arm around your waist makes sure you don’t stumble and fall as the two of you finally get inside.
He looks around the space. “I like your apartment, it’s nice.”
“Thank you.” You mumble against his lips, pulling at your jean jacket and tossing it to the couch.
It’s dark, causing you to back into a side table. The both of you laugh, but neither of you bother to reach for the light switch.
You guid him towards your bedroom, pushing him through the ajar door. The open window leaves the room painted in a low light, the breeze is cool as you clumsily fall onto the mattress with him.
“I never do this.” You state, a huff leaving your lips as he rolls you onto your back.
“I don’t either.” He agrees, mouth wandering down your jaw to your neck.
You fiddling hands make a home in his hair. “Like I really don’t do this. I don’t even go to bars, let alone take home strange men- not that you’re strange. But don’t think I am a casual hookup girl, because I’m not, I just- there’s a connection, right? I’m not alone in this?”
He pulls away, looking down at you with a loopy grin. “You’re rambling, that’s a sign of nervousness.”
“I am nervous!” You exclaim with a breathy laugh. “You’re just…you’re really great.”
His thumb traces your bottom lip. “You’re really great too.” He whispers. “But we don’t have to do anything.”
“No!” You say a little too boldly. “I mean, no, no I want this. Do you want this?”
With a nod, he assures you. “I want this too.”
Maybe you should be more shy and self conscious about this, but when he’s being so kind, all your nervousness leaves. The two of you stumble through the awkward bits with laughter and jokes, and it makes you realize that something so serious doesn’t have to be so uniform.
Really, you’re having more fun than you’ve ever had.
“Spencer?” You gasp, dangerously close to falling off the bed at how the two of you have rolled around.
“Yeah?” He asks, head buried in your neck, trying not to get too ahead of himself as he continues his deep pace between your legs.
“You’re kinda pulling my hair.”
Immediately he moves his hand, apologetic.
Hands dragging up his chest, you try to shimmy away from the mattress ledge. Spencer notices the tragedy that’s about to strike, opting to back off of you completely so you can readjust.
You gasp at the loss of contact. “A little warning next time would be appreciated.”
“Sorry, sorry.” He stammers, gripping you in a feverish way, mouth back to yours.
You don’t exactly know how you ended up on top, but you look at him slightly frightened eyes.
“Is this a no?” He questions, only concerned with making you comfortable.
He’s the complete opposite of selfish, he proved that the second he started you off with his tongue against your core.
“No, not if you like this? I just…I don’t know if I’m good at this.”
He nods in understanding. “Okay, no problem.”
You protest as he goes to move you. “Can I try? Will-will you help me?”
God, he could marry you.
“Yeah, of course sweetheart.” He whispers, kissing you gently.
The butterflies in your stomach are all twitter pated.
Or maybe you’re just extremely turned on.
Spencer is a great teacher, it’s you who jumps the gun at things.
“There you go, angel, slow.” He breathes in your ear, finger tips pressing into your hips as you slowly push down, letting his tip enter you. “Just go really slow, okay?”
You try to do as he says, easing him into you slowly, but by some urge to rush satisfaction, you sink all the way onto him without warning.
“Fuck! That wasn’t slow.” He grits, a hoarse moan escaping from the back of his throat, his grip on you almost bruising.
“S-sorry.” You try to say, but the sheer pressure you feel at this sudden angle has you shuddering and crying out softly. “I’m an overachiever.” You try to joke.
“Holy shit, you want an A+ or something?” He chuckles, trying to calm himself down, running through mathematical formulas in his head so he doesn’t finish just like this.
“Spence, I need- it’s a lot, I need-” You whine out, not having the heart to feel embarrassed for sounding so needy.
“I know, I know. Fuck, do you have any idea how good you feel?” He questions, swallowing hard as he guides your hips forward slightly.
“I can’t really think at all when you’re sitting in my cervix right now.” You claim, quickly overwhelmed by pleasure as you find a rhythm against him.
Sucking on your throat, he mutters something you don’t care to listen to.
“This is- is it supposed to be this good?” You moan, trying not to dig your finger nails into his shoulders.
“I think we just fit perfectly.”
With each movement, you become more comfortable and confident, soon that friendly softness is replaced by lustful roughness. Through it all, Spencer remains caring, even when you tell him he can be a little rough with you.
Never in your sex life have you wanted more and more, even when it finishes.
Even after the two of you can’t find the strength to pull any more orgasms from each other, you lay beside each other, Spencer hasn’t bothered to pull out of you yet, perhaps he’s too spent.
“So.” You clear your throat, tracing his features. “How do you want to play this?”
He hums, dragging his fingers up and down your side. “What do you mean?”
“Guys usually leave after this stuff, right?”
His brows furrow, anxiety comes to ripple through him. “Do you want me to leave?”
Staring at his tired eyes, you shake your head. “No, I want you to stay. Forever. I’m thinking about chaining you to the headboard.”
He chuckles. “I’ll save you the effort, I will gladly stay.”
A sweet smile is returned to him.
At some point, the two of you clean up and fall asleep the second the sheets are pulled over you.
Spencer is convinced it’s all a dream until he wakes up to the sun warm over his skin. He rubs his blurry eyes and rolls over in the bed that is not his, met with your bare back. Slowly, he reaches for you, kissing your shoulder to rouse you.
His phone, still in the pocket of his discarded pants, rings again and again, forcing him to retrieve it in his boxers.
Of course it’s Hotch.
Of course he needs to get to the office. On a Saturday. After the night he just had.
“I should call the authorities, there’s a cute intruder in my room.” Your sleepy voice says from bed. “Oh wait…you are the authorities.”
He likes the way you can make yourself giggle.
“I have bad news.” He says, tracking down his clothes. “My boss just called me in.”
He hates the frown you have.
“That’s a very unfortunate thing.” You nod.
He buttons his pants, then slides his shirt on as he comes to your bedside.
“I should get going so I can go home and change.”
His warm hand presses to your cheek.
You turn to kiss his palm. “Is this goodbye?”
“No. Definitely no.” He assures. “I’ll call when I can, okay? Maybe we can get dinner or something?”
You could sigh heavenly at the way he’s just so dreamy.
“That sounds nice. I’d kiss you but I might have morning breath.” You smile.
He kisses you anyway.
And after leaving the team waiting in the round table room, he appears refreshed and in a very good mood.
He takes his seat, all eyes on him.
“Sorry I’m late, good morning.” He clears his throat.
“Good morning indeed.” Morgan chuckles, sliding him a cup of coffee.
“You okay, Reid?” Rossi asks, eyeing the agent.
“I’m great.” He smiles.
“Is that a hickey?” JJ exclaims, reveling in the way he quickly grabs for his neck, only to realize she’s joking.
“Real mature.” He mutters, knowing the entire day is going to be jokes made at his expense.
He doesn’t mind though, not when he knows his reward for all of this is you.
#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#matthew gray gubler#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction
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I was wondering if you could write a Seeley Booth x reader fic possibly with friends to lovers or just let the vibes take you. Thank you :)
Friends to Lovers Headcanons:
Paring: Seeley Booth x Sweets!Reader, Sister!Reader X Brother!Lance Sweets.
Summary: headcanons about the evolving relationship of Agent Seeley Booth and Dr. Y/n Sweets.
A/n: hope you don't mind it being in headcanon form, if you want a short story you can message me with the details or send in another ask for the inbox, I'm all ears :)
MasterList
You two start off at 'right person wrong time'. You didn't really know how to deal with a relationship, nor did you have good ones in the past. Then Seeley had his eyes fixated on Temperance Brennan.
You two obviously had feelings for each other, you just didn't realize it, so you started off as friends. Your the older Sister of Lance Sweets and it took a while for him to gain your trust. You were too busy always worrying about your brother and you didn't really like how Seeley treated him at first.
He calls you Lady Sweets and prefers your comapany above all others. He kinda wormed his way into your heart.
“are you always like this?” you asked half annoyed.
“what are you talking about, I'm a joy to be around”
It started off as jokes to break the ice and soon you relized how much you two had in common.
After a couple of cases that tested both of your trust and patience, you guys were well on your way to calling yourselves best friends.
Then it got to the point that he was the only person you felt safe with.
“I'd die for you.. Ya know?” he told you after he almost lost you. “right back at you”
With that you guys usually open up to each other, mostly about people you have a 'crush' on or wouldn't minde getting in bed with, this of course was just a cover up.
But what took you guys longer to open up about was your home lives and his time in the army. Seeley trusts you with everything, even is own life so it was only a matter of time before he opened up about it.
He talked about his time as a snipper and how he lost the people closest to him during that time.
You'd tell about the awful foster homes you and Lance got sent to and how you always had to protect him. Lance was too young to remember, but you took most of the beating for him.
You started crying when you told him the stories, that was the first time he's ever seen you cry. He didn't care just held you in his arms with zero judgment.
When he started having feelings for Temperance Brennan, you were crushed but still supported him. At the time you didn't know why you felt so angry and sad, but you kept between yourself and your Shrink brother.
“I'm NOT in love with Seeley Booth, I love you Lance but please stay out of my love life”
You also hated how much pain she caused him, you had huge respect for Temperance and even consider her one of your closest friends, but Seeley just couldn't get the hint she wasn't ready for a relationship.
And sometimes Temperance doesn't realize what she's saying... To literal and honest that girl.
You hated seeing him so upset. “honey, she's not good enough for you anyway”
The more he hung around with you and the more cases you went on together, the more he realized you may be ✨the one✨... But he's not quite sure, with you, Bones, and work he's not sure what to do and it bugs him big time.
Everyone around you knew what was going on, they saw the way he looked at you and vic versa.
“two genius both in love with this same guy” Hodgins said.
“Brennan isn't in love with Seeley” Cam sighed shaking her head. “my money is on Y/n”
“I have to take Brennan's side on this one” Angela sighed, you don't turn your back on a best friend so you don't blame her.
You always felt a pit of jealously when Brennan was around. You either got incucure about your intelligence or if she was around Seeley, you got shy about your looks. She of course doesn't know and in the end she's a good friend.
But no matter what Seeley thinks your the most beautifulest and smartest person he's ever met. Your an Angel in his eyes.
When things got a little too cosy with Bones and Seeley you spilt your guts out to your little brother. “I'm in love with Seeley Booth”
Lance nodded, not shocked at all. “yeah..”
“what do you mean 'yeah'?”
Lance sighed with a soft smile. “it's obvious... On both sides even, don't you see the way he looks at you?”
You kept that conversation on repeat for about a week and then you and Seeley had a case together. It was easy and you of course solved it.
You were quiet the rest of the night trying to figure out how to tell him. “you okay? your really quiet tonight”
You took a deep breath and looked into those brown eyes you loved so much, so gentle and kind but could be blazing with anger in the next. You loved how much emotion they held.
“I lo... I'm just tired” yup... You chicken out, but don't worry new years rolled around pretty fast and your brother was getting tired of you being scared.
It just started off as a simple new years party, you and Seeley stuck close together and just had a good time, your almost confession didn't even cross your mind. But you couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked, in black dress shirt and leather jacket.
Then the count down started... The 5,4, 3, 2,
And just before one showed up Lance dropped the bomb shell “y/n is in love with Booth”.
All your friends looked at you and all you wanted to do was Shrink into your skin. “happy new year” you said sarcastically and blew your party thingy.
You left without another word, you didn't get to far because Seeley grabed your wrist stopping you.
You sighed and turned around. “wha-”
He pressed his lips to yours in a passionate kiss, it held years of built up tension and emotion was poured into that kiss.
“I love you too” he said, resting his forehead on yours.
Your relationship grew stronger than ever and there was so much weight being lifted from you guys.
You were always kinda touchy-Feely with each other, but now since your his girl he can't keep his hands off of you.
With you, he's like a big teddy bear.
He's super over protective, more than usual now, if you thought over protective best friend was just wait for over protective boyfriend.
He knows you can take care of yourself and he knows your a total badass, but he just wants to keep you safe...let your man's arms be your safe place.
He loves you and would do anything for you.
I think starting off as friends is what made your relationship strong and unbreakable, you love each other through the good and the bad.
“it was worth the wait” he said.
#Seeley Booth x reader#Seeley Booth#Bones headcanons#Seeley Booth Headcanons#Bones imagines#Lance Sweets#Temperance Brennan#Agent booth#David boreanaz#Seeley Booth imagines#Friends to lovers
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pretty isn't pretty ❀ s. reid x reader
in which the man you take home drunk meets the person you are sober, and he's all too forgiving for a stranger you'll probably only see once.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff (18+ for suggestive content) tags: alcohol consumption. reader has a bad relationship with her body. elusions to a hookup. word count: 2.2k a/n: this isn't ooc for spencer reid you've just never hooked up with him. and that's ok. but i have. happy valentine's day from australia!! yay!!
"love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind. and therefore is winged cupid blind." (a midsummer night's dream, william shakespeare)
There's a downpour of rain that came on so suddenly it had shocked you and your friends into a nearby bar. Droplets splattering against pavement and bouncing up to your otherwise exposed ankles. A skirt a poor choice of clothing for the cool air of a February night.
The bar is small. You're sure if you concentrated hard enough, you could indulge yourself in each and every conversation happening around it. Men by the pool table succeeding at impressing the three girls they had found; gloating about their skills. An older couple huddled up in the back corner of the bar, two barely touched beers between them. A group of friends similar to your own occupying a booth and laughing louder than anyone else in the bar.
A man. Alone. A glass of clear liquid that looks like water — but surely not? — between his hands, and a bartender talking to him and preparing more drinks.
You connect the man to the group of people in the booth, for he turns his head and stares at them for a few seconds, lips moving as he counts them up.
Then, his head turns to investigate the sudden rush of cold air entering the bar, and he meets your eyes. Newfound confidence — or the final tequila shot you took during pre's — kicks in, and your feet are carrying you over to him, a mere locking of a gaze inviting you in. You think.
Maybe you're tipsier than you thought.
"Do you need a hand with those?" you ask him, nodding your head towards the six glasses all filled to the brim, resting atop the bar.
He hesitates, and glances back at the group of people in the booth, who are less concerned with him now that another conversation has piqued their interest.
"If you're offering," he nods, picking up two of the glasses. "Though, it isn't wise of me to let a stranger handle my friends' drinks."
"You can pat me down first if you want," you reply, holding your arms out, as if you were in TSA. "See for yourself, officer."
He chokes on nothing, his eyes wide, and a coughing fit ensues for several seconds after. "It's—um, agent. Actually."
Your eyebrows shoot up, and your hands drop back by your side when he doesn't move to check for illicit substances on your person. You assume that means he trusts you.
"That's fancy," you quip, picking up three of the glasses. "What makes you an agent?"
"Working for the government," he replies, leading you over to the table, where you help him put the drinks on the table. "I left my water at the bar."
An expert excuse to drag you away from his group of friends before they have a chance to engage with you, really.
"Working for the government," you parrot back to him, leaning against the bar when he does. "Do I get to ask more questions, or is it your turn now?"
"You can ask more questions."
He tells you his name when you ask. You tell him yours.
And more questions got you drunk. More questions got you dragging him back to your apartment. More questions got you barely picking your feet up as you walk backwards, stumbling, as his lips kiss your own, and his hands hold your waist against his.
Your hands fumble with the door handle of your bedroom, and you take the few seconds to silently pray to the universe that the girl who left the house earlier didn't leave fifteen failed outfit options strewn throughout it.
You don't get a chance to turn around and check, for his lips are back on yours the second the door swings open, and he takes barely a moment to locate your bed in the room. If there are clothes everywhere, he doesn't make it an issue.
He was a really good kisser. Mind blackening, body tingling, head reeling good. Every sound that hit your ears came from your own lips, you're sure.
He breaks the kiss only to murmur, "Sorry," when the backs of your knees hit your bed frame, but you're a little too happy to care about the inevitable bruise currently forming on the skin there.
Fingers of yours drag up to his scalp and entangle within his hair as you lay back on the bed, and he follows you down.
You force him to kiss you. Again.
"Do you do this often?" you ask him, breathlessly, when he pulls away to litter his generous kisses over the skin of your jawline and neck.
"What?" he asks, hair covering his eyes as he pauses to look back up at you.
"Go home with girls from bars."
"Will you believe me if I say you're the first?" he moves back up to level his face with your own.
"Probably not."
"You should."
You do.
Unfortunately, the question stemmed from the weird middle ground between being so drunk you don't remember five minutes ago, and being so sober you overthink every decision, accompanied by the sick crash from the sugar in your drinks. Which meant your liquid courage was dissipating with every ticking second, and you were retreating back into the secluded palace of your mind.
It was why, when his fingers hook beneath the hem of your shirt, your own hands fly to stop him, wrapping around his wrists and freezing him in motion.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
That causes you to freeze.
You're not sure if telling this inherent stranger that you don't want him to take off your clothes because you're remembering why you don't do hookups and are suddenly feeling too insecure to want to sleep with him is a good idea. But there's something about the way his eyes are filled with so much concern, instead of the frustration you expected, that makes you want to spill every single secret you have out to him.
"I'm... um..." you hesitate, and he leans back enough for you to crawl out from beneath him, hugging your knees to your chest as you do every self secluding human trait there is. From your eyes fixating on your bedding, to your fingers interlacing and fidgeting with each other.
He doesn't rush you to talk.
"I just... don't think I can do hookups. With strangers," you sigh, defeated. "I'm sorry I made you come all the way here for—well, nothing."
He's still silent, and it's your eyes lifting to try and read his expression that triggers him into a response.
"We don't have to have sex for me to enjoy your presence," he replies. "I enjoyed talking to you."
"Yeah, but—" you force air through your nose to stop yourself from scaring him off with a verbal rant "—you don't know me. Not really. You came home with me with the intent of sleeping with me. And now I'm telling you we can't do that, so you can go."
His eyes burn against your skin as he studies you. "Do you want me to leave?"
The answer should be yes. You don't know this man, and he does not know you. Yet, there's a clawing need to ask him to stay. So you can get to know him, and him, you.
"No," you fidget with your fingers again. He chooses not to stop you. "I liked talking to you too."
"Great," he picks his feet up and crosses them on your bed. You hope your cringing at his shoes on your bedding isn't visible. "Can I ask why you don't do hookups?"
"So you can read my mind?" you quip, and his lips twitch into a smile as he huffs.
"Let it go."
"You can't tell me your job is to read minds and expect me to let it go."
"My job is to use behavioural analysis to build the profile of a criminal," he replies. "Not to read minds."
"Sounds exactly like something a mind reader would say," you bite down on your bottom lip to stop the dumb grin from spreading across your face at the way he's looking at you. Unimpressed, but ultimately amused.
"Well, this isn't me trying to read your mind. There's many reasons why someone might not want to have sex. I want to know yours, so I know how to approach the topic in the future."
Your breathing stops, but you force yourself not to focus on the implications of his words. Excitement for a man you met that night was never wise. He could ghost you come tomorrow morning, you remind yourself.
"It's kind of heavy," you say, lifting your gaze to look at him through cautious eyes.
"I can do heavy."
You purse your lips. "I don't know," you stretch your legs out in front of him. He takes them and sets them in his lap, and your heart flutters. "I don't like the idea of someone I don't know seeing me naked."
Hands ghost over your skin. "Why?"
Your head lowers to your fidgeting hands. "I'm just not happy with how I look, I guess? If somebody doesn't know me for my personality, they don't have anything to stick around for if they see me the way I see myself. Not to say I have a stellar personality. But I'd like to have at least one redeeming quality. Because... my body... isn't..." your voice is small by the time you finish, and you're skeptical as you face your fears to stare up at him once more.
He visibly swallows, and you regret every word that had just left your mouth within seconds. So much for the whole not scaring him off thing.
"You don't have to say anything," you break the silence that only lasted a few seconds, anyways. "It's a weird personal thing. I'm fine with having sex with partners. Obviously. It's just strangers."
"I think," he pauses, and his hands stop their stroking on your legs as he strings together his words. "I think you're with people that are too shallow if they don't still want you after seeing your body."
"Well—um, nobody's actually ghosted me after sleeping with me..."
And now you feel dumb. Admitting to having an insecurity that's entirely baseless is dumb. He's probably turning over the very thought that you're dumb inside his head, and formulating a plan to get out of here, and—
"I get it," he surprises you instead. "But in the opposite way. My personality isn't for everyone. Or anyone, is a better way to put it."
"I like your personality," you tilt your head to the side.
He smiles weakly at your attempt of reassurance. "You've known me for one night. And you were drunk for most of it."
"So I'm not allowed to like your personality?" you challenge. "Isn't there something about not needing much time to know whether or not you like someone?"
"Sort of. We can determine a few things about people within those first few seconds, but they aren't set in stone forever. What you like now, might become annoying in a few months time," he says.
"I don't think I'll find you annoying in a few months time," you murmur.
"And I don't think I'll dislike your body. But you won't believe me, and I won't believe you," he counters. "Make sense?"
"Yeah," you nod. "Is this some weird mind reading thing to manipulate me into sleeping with you?"
"No, because I can't read minds," he shoots you a look, "and I also don't care about having sex with you tonight. I can wait."
He can wait. You hope you don't look stupid smiling at the concept of him waiting for you, implying he will be here for more than just one night.
"I think a psyche evaluation for a first date is kind of insane," you say.
"I can make it up to you?" he offers, and you stare with keen interest. "We can go get coffee. Or something. I won't analyse your behaviour during it."
"That doesn't close off the possibility of you reading my mind, though."
"What would I find?" he then asks, throwing you off balance.
"If you read my mind?" he nods at your question. "Um... a lot of insecurities, I think. My friends. Song lyrics. My favourite colour... what would I find in yours?"
"A lot," his hands drag along your shins. "I don't even know where to begin."
"It's the high as fuck IQ," you shake your head, dismissively; jokingly. "I hate it. Stop thinking."
"I do with you, I think. Well, I haven't really thought about much else other than you. Which isn't common. I can usually split my attention well."
"Is it because you can't split it, or don't want to?" you ask him.
"Both. I'm quite content just listening to and thinking about you."
You duck your head as a smile paints your lips. "Welcome to normal brains."
"Thank you. I don't mind them."
"Give it a few weeks."
His shoulders shake as he laughs, and you think the sight is wonderful, and you're easing back up post anxiety. You have to applaud him for doing it so quickly, and so well.
Laughter and the positive tension between you two dies down, and you're left looking at him with fond eyes and the same stupid smile on your face. All while he's staring back at you, and you're sure you can see his attention fail to stay on your eyes, for his gaze keeps dropping to your lips.
"I haven't thought about much but you, too," you say.
He kisses you.
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡
#lia’s fics ♡#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer x reader#spencer x self insert#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid comfort#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid x reader comfort
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PROXIMITY
↳ katsuki bakugō x reader
a/n: this was just supposed to be a small blurb, but it turned into a whole ass fic halfway through!!! wtf!!!

imagine forced proximity with katsuki bakugō...
-> katsuki didn’t like you, and you didn’t like him; his abrasive attitude clashed with your personality. and yet, you were a recurring presence in each other’s lives...
-> the two of you often found yourselves butting heads whenever you had to work together. he wished he didn’t have to look at your face so often, but your agencies kept pairing you two together. “you work well together,” they said. katsuki didn’t miss his agent whispering that you’re “the only person who can reign him in.”
-> as he's wrapping up his shift, katsuki receives a text from eijirō— affectionately saved as “shitty hair” on his phone— inviting him out to drinks and food with the group and for once, he accepts. after the day he had, he could use a drink, or two. but as he steps into the restaurant and finds his friends extras, he thinks that he’ll need more drinks than that when he sees you sitting at the booth.
so not only do you two have to work together, you also have mutual friends. great.

the once lively atmosphere at the table had slowly simmered, with a terrifying tension taking its place. mina, denki, eijirō and hanta would have to be completely tone-deaf to not notice the way you and katsuki stared daggers at each other.
eijirō, always amicable, was the first to speak up. “so... I take it you and bakugō know each other?”
you confirmed with a small nod, making the conscious effort to keep your eyes trained on the redhead. “our agencies thought it would be a good idea to work together.”
“ooh, that must be fun,” denki added, glancing at you and katsuki, the latter scoffing at his enthusiasm.
“if by ‘fun,’ you mean ‘I need to take pain relievers at the end of every shift because a certain someone has never heard of an inside voice before’,” your eyes flickered towards the certain someone in question; he’s already glaring at you. “...then, yes; I’ve been having a swell time!”
“the only reason I yell is because you don’t listen to me,” katsuki said, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “I swear, it’s like you’re deaf.”
“hearing loss is often caused by loud noises— now, who’s fault would that be?”
“yours, because the second you get off shift, you shove your earbuds in and turn your music volume all the way to the max!”
“music is the only thing that soothes me after working a shift with you! maybe if you had something to calm you down after a day’s work, you wouldn’t have a stick up your ass.”
eijirō attempts to interject. “guys—!”
“what’d you say to me?”
“hey, I think the food’s coming!” hanta suddenly announces to the table, which turns everyone’s attention to the waiter coming their way, balancing multiple orders on a serving tray.
you and katsuki simultaneously slump back into your seats without another word, prompting the rest of the table to breathe a sigh of relief as the waiter starts placing down plates of food.
the rest of dinner was uneventful compared to earlier. thankfully, denki and eijirō managed to bring the mood up— bless their hearts. drinks were shared and stories from the past were recalled, all the while you and katsuki remained mostly silent.
once dinner came to a close, you followed the group out of the restaurant as they discussed each other’s schedules— possibly planning when they can all hang out again.
you can’t help but wonder if they’ll invite you next time. you’ve no doubt made a fool out of yourself, acting so hostile and vulgar at the dinner table. but it’s not your fault! it’s his... isn’t it...?
you feel a sudden weight on your shoulder.
“what’s up? you look bummed,” denki said, titling his head to the side as he leaned against you.
“I, uh, I didn’t mean to start shouting back there, it’s just...” bakugō gets me so riled up... is what you almost said, but you decided to hold your tongue after a second thought. “...nevermind. I just, I hope I didn’t make dinner uncomfortable for the rest of you.”
denki patted your back and offered his signature grin. “don’t be so uptight! it’s all good!”
you exhaled, relieved he didn’t cause you to make a fool out of yourself, when denki suddenly leaned in close and whispered in your ear, “between you and me, I also think kacchan is a bit of a prick...”
“you say somethin’, dunce face?” as if he sensed he was being talked about and materialized behind you, katsuki’s presence suddenly towered over your’s.
denki yelped and cowered behind you, partially hiding his face in your shoulder. “protect me...!”
you tilt your head upwards to look at the blond not currently clinging to you. “you’re paranoid. we were just talking about dinner, that’s all.”
katsuki rolled his eyes at your reply, but didn’t argue.
for once.

later that night, after you made it to the comforts of your home, you received a message.

#bnha x reader#mha x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo#bakugo katsuki#bakugou katsuki#mha imagines#bnha imagines#mha fanfiction#mha fanfic#bnha fanfiction#bnha fanfic#eijirou kirishima#eijiro kirishima#kirishima eijirou#kirishima eijiro#denki kaminari#kaminari denki#sero hanta#hanta sero#mina ashido#ashido mina
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Late night confessions | Spencer reid x Fem!Reader
only fluff allowed in this house
In which Spencer can't believe how oblivious you were.
Warnings: Pretty sure none!
Content: Love confessions, reader is oblivious, really cutesy, petnames (stuff like darling...)
--
It’s a Saturday night, and you’re getting ready to go out with your friends from the BAU. Somehow, you guys got lucky enough to have this day off and decided to go to a bar and have some fun. Hotch and Rossi both said they’re “too old” for this and decided to not go, which honestly left you relieved, you really did not want both your bosses to see you in the outfit you had planned for the night. Besides them, everyone was going, and you were excited to see the team outside of work – particularly excited to see a certain genius.
You and Spencer are the kind of friends that everyone perceived as “suspiciously close” and everyone that didn’t know thought you guys were a couple. Actually, there was a bet amongst your friends as to how long it would take you two to actually get together.
At first, you and Spencer found it uncomfortable and got awkward every time they made a joke about you two being together, but after some time, you guys started to join in a bit. Now, the irony of it all is, between all the flirty jokes, the way Spencer became so comfortable with you being clingy to him besides his germophobia and the way he cared so much about you… You fell in love with him.
Arriving at the bar, you spot your friends all sat at a booth and head over to them.
“Hey guys”
“Hi sweetie, you look gorgeous” Garcia says, giving you a kiss on the cheek
“Thanks darling, you look stunning too” You say, taking a seat between Spencer and Penelope.
You talk to your friends, occasionally making eye contact with Spencer, who has been blushing ever since you came into the bar. You had always found it cute how no matter how many dates he had, he still would get flustered around girls he found attractive.
You spent the night dancing and gossiping with Penelope and Emily. Later, the group was starting to leave when you felt a hand on the small of your back, when you turn around you see Spencer standing there smiling at you
“Hi Spence, wanna dance with me?” You say, putting your hands around his neck and smiling back, voice coming out a bit dragged
“Not now darling” He said, softly laughing at the way you were, not that usually you were super uptight but at this moment you seemed so relaxed and carefree he loved seeing you like that “Did you drive here?”
“Nop, but don't worry, I'll take a cab back home”
“There's no way I'm letting you take a cab alone this late at night. C'mon, let's say goodbye to everyone and I'll take you home”
You roll your eyes at him, but the way he was being so protective over you made your heart flutter. You thought about contesting him, something about you being a “scary FBI agent” but you knew he was right and decided to just go with it.
You say your goodbyes to the rest of the group and go on with him to the parking lot. On the way to the car, Spencer is holding you by your waist to prevent you from stumbling, you're fully aware that you don't need it, you didn't even drink any alcohol, still you let him do it because there's no way you would ever shy away from being this close to him.
Back at your house, Spencer goes with you in the elevator, stopping at your apartment's door
“Alright, here you are, safe and sound” He says, smiling at you
“Thanks Spence” You reach out to give him a hug, and it lingers for more time than it normally does
All you wanted to do right now was kiss him.
“Do you want to come in? I'm not sleepy at all, and I would feel guilty with you driving alone this late at night, we can make some tea and talk maybe”
“I don't know, you really should rest…” Just as he began reclining your offer, you gave him the look you knew he would never say no to “Alright, I'll come in”
“What's going on in that pretty brain of yours Spence” You say, leaning on the counter top
You smile at him as you walk into your apartment, getting rid of your shoes and stepping into the kitchen. Spencer sits in one of the stools near the counter top and watches as you start to make tea. He watches every move you make, as if memorizing it, and maybe it's all in your head, and maybe you're just seeing what you want to see, but he has this look in his eyes, different from before.
“Not much” He smiles, and it feels like the world stops for a moment.
“Now that's a surprise, when have you ever not thought about everything all at once”
“You tend to have that effect on me” His gaze lingers on you, as if he was trying to tell you something. You can't help but feel a flutter in your stomach.
“What's that supposed to mean” You think you might know, but there's no way he reciprocates your feelings… right?
“You know exactly what i mean, there's no way you're that oblivious” He smirks at you, and god you think you might pass out right then and there.
“If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you, Spencer”
He laughs and stands up, getting close to you "Alright, what i mean is when i'm close to you, that's all I can think about… You. I've been in love with you for… honestly, I don't even know how long anymore” He takes a step closer, placing a hand on your waist and his voice drops to a whisper “I've made it pretty obvious too, maybe you took the ‘don't profile each other’ too serious. How did you not notice?”
You're shocked, you can't even process your thoughts right now. Your best friend, whom you've been in love with for years, just confessed to you. You did notice his change in behavior towards you, you just didn't believe he could ever be in love with you
“I noticed you treated me different, but I thought it was just…” You lose your words when he reaches out and cups your jaw, you look into his eyes, and you can see the love in them, and it makes you feel something inside.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, and all you can do is take a deep breath and lean into his hand, feeling your heart flutter. You give him a small nod and close your eyes as he gently presses his lips against yours, and at that moment, you know that this is real.
He gently pulls you into his arms and kisses you on the forehead as he whispers “I love you”
“I love you more” You say, looking up, smiling at him.
“Impossible” He says, smiling back at you.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x bestfriend!reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid self insert#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds blurb#criminal minds fanfiction
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summary: Spencer is overwhelmed by work until a fellow BAU agent and close friend takes him out to unwind, leading to laughter, confessions, and a sweet first kiss. What begins as a casual night at the pub becomes the start of something much more.
pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader.
cw: 1.4k words. workplace stress, emotional exhaustion, and gentle romantic tension. fluff, mutual pining, hand-holding, first kiss between coworkers.
taglist: @blastzachilles @lvve-talks @jordiemeow @strfallz @222col @soulxinxthexsky @diyasgarden @jinxedbambi @lexiiscorect @religionlost @bluestrd @jclolz22 @magicalmiserybore @destinedtobegigi @fwaist @talsorchard @lovefaist @shahabaqsa0310 @prismozo @jesuistrestriste

Quantico's fluorescent lights were unforgiving. They hummed above Spencer’s head as he sat at his desk, hunched over a mountain of paperwork. His brow furrowed, eyes scanning line after line of typed reports with a mechanical rhythm. The rest of the bullpen had quieted down for the day, the team's chatter replaced by the soft buzz of computers and distant footsteps.
You watched him from across the room, your own desk long abandoned. You’d finished your reports hours ago, but something kept you hanging around. Well—someone.
Spencer hadn’t moved in over an hour. He pushed his glasses up his nose, muttering something under his breath that you couldn't quite catch. You stood, stretching, and crossed the room with soft footsteps.
“You know it’s past nine, right?” you said gently, leaning on the edge of his desk.
Spencer startled slightly, blinking up at you as though coming out of a daze. “Is it really?”
You nodded. “You’ve been working all day. Didn’t even stop for dinner. Are you trying to burn out?”
“No, I just…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s a lot to get through. I figured if I could finish tonight, tomorrow could be… easier.”
You tilted your head at him, heart tugging a little. His tie was loose, shirt wrinkled, and the bags under his eyes had gotten darker over the last few weeks. The last case had been rough—gruesome, personal. You’d all felt it, but Spencer had taken it especially hard.
“You’re not a robot, Spence,” you said. “You’re allowed to unplug. In fact, I think I’m making it my personal mission to help you do that tonight.”
He blinked again. “What do you mean?”
You grinned. “I’m taking you out. Pub down the road. Dart boards. Fries. Maybe even karaoke, if I can talk you into it.”
His lips quirked in amusement. “Karaoke?”
“Yep. Non-negotiable. You need a reset. Come on, it'll be fun.”
Spencer hesitated, fiddling with his pen. He didn’t like loud places or unfamiliar environments. But then you smiled at him again—bright and encouraging, and somehow soft just for him—and that did something he couldn’t quite explain.
“…Okay,” he said, quietly.
You beamed. “Really?”
“Yeah. Okay. Just let me grab my coat.”
The pub you picked was small, warm, and comfortably noisy—not too packed, but alive with the kind of background chatter that gave the illusion of anonymity. A local band was playing soft indie rock in the corner. It was a place you knew he might tolerate, with dim lighting and rustic wooden beams, and a dartboard tucked away in the back.
Spencer looked around cautiously as you slid into a booth with two beers in hand.
“I promise,” you said, pushing one toward him, “no drunk singing unless you want to.”
“I don’t drink much,” he said, inspecting the beer. “I know. Just sip. We’re here to de-stress, not get wild.”
He gave you a sheepish half-smile. “Thanks for dragging me out.”
“You needed it.”
He took a sip and let the cool bitterness ground him. For a moment, you both just sat there, watching the room. Then he glanced sideways at you. “You… always know what I need.”
You looked over at him, surprised by the softness in his voice. “Well, you’re kind of easy to read. When you look like you haven’t slept in three days, that’s my cue.”
He laughed—a real, warm laugh that made your chest swell. “I’m that obvious?”
“Only to me,” you teased.
He didn’t say anything at first, but he didn’t look away either. His gaze lingered on you—on the curve of your smile, the gentle way you leaned toward him when you spoke. You’d been friends since you joined the BAU, and somewhere along the line, that friendship had tangled into something messier in his chest.
Something he didn’t know how to say out loud.
“Hey,” you nudged his knee under the table. “Don’t go all introspective on me now. You’re out. You're relaxing. Let yourself have a little fun.”
“I am having fun,” he said, a bit too quickly. You raised an eyebrow. “Then let’s see it. Darts?” He gave you a doubtful look. “You’ll destroy me.”
“I’m counting on it.”
You weren’t lying—you did destroy him. But he didn’t mind.
You laughed with every bullseye, tossing back your hair and pointing at his stunned expression. Spencer was terrible at darts, but he played anyway, content to watch you smile and tease him. You didn’t make fun—just poked, prodded, kept things light. Kept him laughing.
At one point, between throws, you leaned close and whispered, “You look better when you’re not worrying.” He turned red, flustered, and missed the board completely on his next turn.
You cackled and high-fived a stranger nearby, and Spencer just buried his face in his hands. “I’m never living this down, am I?”
“Not a chance, Doc.”
But underneath the jokes, you were watching him, too. Noticing how the lines on his forehead had smoothed out. How his shoulders sat a little lower. You liked seeing him like this—unguarded, laughing, a little shy.
He didn’t notice you staring. Or maybe… he did.
An hour later, you were back in the booth, sharing a plate of greasy fries. Your knees were touching under the table now, and neither of you moved away.
“You know,” you said, chewing thoughtfully, “for someone who’s got three PhDs and an IQ higher than my rent, you’re really bad at darts.” Spencer wiped his hands on a napkin. “There’s very little overlap between deductive reasoning and hand-eye coordination.”
“Still. Very disappointing. I thought you’d be my secret weapon in bar games.”
“I’m good at trivia,” he offered, trying to salvage some dignity.
“Oh yeah?” you grinned. “Then riddle me this, genius: why haven’t you asked me out yet?”
You meant it as a joke—a harmless little tease to keep the mood light—but the color drained from his face. Spencer froze, eyes wide behind his glasses. “What?”
You blinked, suddenly uncertain. “I—sorry, I didn’t mean to make it weird, I was just—”
“No, no,” he rushed, waving his hands. “It’s not weird. I just… I didn’t know you… noticed.”
You tilted your head, studying him. “You’ve got the biggest crush face I’ve ever seen, Spence. I figured it out months ago.” He looked like he might combust. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t trying to—make you uncomfortable. I didn’t want to ruin anything.”
“You didn’t,” you said softly.
He blinked.
You smiled again, gentler this time. “It’s kind of sweet, actually. Watching you fumble over coffee orders when I’m around. The way you always sit next to me on the jet, but never too close.”
His voice was barely a whisper. “I didn’t think you felt the same.”
Your heart fluttered. “Well, I do.”
There was a long pause—full of new tension, not quite awkward, just fragile. Spencer sat very still. “What happens now?” You slid your hand across the table, lacing your fingers with his.
“That depends,” you said, voice low. “Do you want to go on a date with me, Doctor Reid?”
He stared at your hand in his, then looked up, and you saw something melt behind his eyes. The tension that had lived there for years—fear of rejection, the need to always be in control—slipped away.
“Yes,” he said, quietly but firmly. “I really do.”
It was late when you stepped outside, the chill of night brushing your skin. The sky above was soft and dark, stars peeking between clouds. You stood beside him on the sidewalk, hand still tucked into his like it belonged there.
Spencer was quiet, but it was a different kind of quiet now. Comfortable. Sweet. “You did good tonight,” you said. “Actually had fun.” He smiled. “I did. Because of you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He turned toward you, eyes bright behind his glasses. “I’m really lucky you noticed me.”
“I always noticed you, Spence,” you whispered.
And then you leaned in and kissed him. It was soft—brief—just your mouth on his, warm and sure. You pulled away before he could even process it fully. His face was pink, his smile dazed.
You nudged his side. “Walk me to my car, genius?”
He nodded, still smiling, still holding your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.
As you walked together under the soft glow of streetlamps, Spencer thought that maybe—just maybe—life wasn’t so heavy with you beside him.
#★ mika’s writing .ᐟ#criminal minds#criminal minds spencer reid#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fanfiction#criminal minds blurb#spencer reid blurb
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I took my baby niece out for lunch the other day, so naturally, I turned the experience into a Percy x Reader fic. Estella is loosely based on her, tiny, adorable, and an agent of mild destruction. p.jackson x reader
The tiny fists slammed against the table with dramatic flair, shaking the salt shaker and nearly toppling your water glass. You barely flinched—Estella had already set the tone for this lunch when she threw a crayon like a javelin and screamed with victory.
“Okay, okay, you little gremlin, I’m feeding you,” you muttered through a laugh, scooping another bite of mashed potato into her waiting mouth before she could start her next campaign.
Across from you, Percy snorted into his drink, straw bobbing from the force of it. “She’s a year and a half. Why does she have the vibe of a Roman general on a power trip?”
“Because she’s your sister,” you replied dryly. “And clearly blessed by the gods with both lungs and spite.”
“Hey,” he said, smirking, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m very well-behaved.”
You gave him a look. “You once threw a stapler at your RA for putting a pineapple on your pizza.”
“She deserved it.”
You rolled your eyes but smiled, settling back against the booth as Estella reached out with grabby hands, demanding another bite. Percy had promised his mom he’d watch his little sister for the day, and since you were both back in New York for winter break, you’d offered to tag along.
Well—offered might be generous. Percy had looked at you with those sea-glass eyes and said, “Please don’t leave me alone with her, I’m too young to die.”
So here you were. Lunch at a tiny mom-and-pop diner in the city with your boyfriend and his chaotic baby sister, covered in sweet potato and looking like you were one matching flannel away from full suburban cosplay.
Not that you minded. Being home with Percy, even with a wild toddler involved, felt… weirdly nice. Like the world had slowed down just a little.
You were wiping Estella’s chin with a napkin—again—when a pair of older women passing your table stopped and cooed at the baby.
“Oh, what a sweetheart,” one said warmly, crouching slightly to tickle Estella’s socked foot. Estella giggled on cue. “And she looks just like her daddy.”
You blinked. “Oh—”
“She really does,” the other woman continued with a knowing smile, eyes flicking between you and Percy. “You carry them for nine months, and they come out looking like their father. At least yours is a handsome one.”
Before you could correct her, Percy didn’t even hesitate.
“Right? Total betrayal, but I guess I can’t blame her. Good genes.”
You gawked at him. The woman laughed, gave you a playful wink, and they walked away.
“You did not just let those women think I’m the mother of your child,” you hissed, though you were already biting back a grin.
Percy just sipped his drink and leaned an elbow on the table, clearly far too pleased with himself. “C’mon, you gotta admit, we look good. Estella’s got my hair, your attitude. We’re thriving.”
“You are a problem,” you said, even as your cheeks warmed.
“And yet you’re still dating me,” he shot back. “So really, who’s the sucker here, my love?”
You flipped a french fry at him. It bounced off his shoulder.
He caught the second one mid-air. “You’re just mad she called me handsome.”
“Please. I’ve seen you try to shave with a cracked mirror and a plastic razor. Let’s not get cocky.”
He laughed, low and easy, and it wrapped around your ribs like a blanket. You hated how much you loved that sound.
Estella let out a content sigh that made both of you look at her. She was now sucking mashed potato off her fist
“See?” Percy said. “She agrees. Total domestic bliss.”
Your gaze lingered on him longer than you meant it to. His arm stretched behind you, hair a little messy from the cold wind outside, hoodie slightly stained from baby food, and still—still—the most beautiful boy you’d ever met.
“Yeah,” you said, quietly, before you could stop yourself. “Kind of feels like it.”
His expression shifted. Softened. Like maybe he heard something deeper in your voice than even you intended.
“You know,” he murmured, nudging your foot under the table, “we’d make a pretty badass team.”
“We already do.”
He smiled. “Just saying. If we ever wanted to make the whole fake-family thing real…”
“Don’t propose in a diner, Jackson.”
“Noted,” he said. “You’re more of a boardwalk and wine kind of girl.”
You rolled your eyes, but the truth was—you weren’t really denying it.
#✨️by yours truly✨️#percy jackson#pjo#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x y/n#bookish#percy jackson x you#pjo x reader
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