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reidrum · 6 months ago

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wine or wine not | s.r

spencer reid x bau!reader

a/n: i think i love writing buildup to smut than actual smut, but i hope you guys like this lmk what you think. this was requested with the prompts "look at me when you come on my fingers" and "muttering compliments kissing down their body" and it was so much fun to write aaaaahh, my requests are open so please send more!!! guidelines in pinned <3

summary: you're hopelessly pining after spencer at a rossi party, and when you run into him in the kitchen when you're getting a refill and he asks if you want to explore the mansion with him, who are you to say no?

cw: 18+ minors dni pls, fingering, p in v, nipple play, soft!dom!spence, spencer being ridiculously hot its criminal, ooc penelope but it was for the plot, pining idiots, wine cellar sex wine cellar sex wine cellar sex, public sex, morgan and prentiss being dumb, rossi being a smug lil shit, a dumb ass title sorry i didn't know what else to name it lol

wc: 4.1k

★・・・・★・・・・★・・・・★・・・・★

these days rossi was always finding some reason to throw a party at his mansion. you’re not exactly sure what it was tonight, a birthday? an anniversary? regardless, you and the team appreciated the excuse to unwind, dress up, and have non murder related fun.

the sun is setting over the rolling hills the mansion is perched on, and you’re sat at a table with the girls— penelope, jj, and emily discussing penelope’s latest dating escapade. you’re trying hard to pay attention, you really are, but it proves to be difficult when you’re focused on the man showing magic tricks to the kids across the room.

you look on yearnfully as spencer pulls a coin from jack’s ear, all the kids are laughing and cheering and he has the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.

“hellooo?” penelope waves a hand in front of you dramatically, “i’m getting to the good part and you’re off in space!”

you jolt back to the present, “sorry pen, i’m listening i promise. so he shows up to your door with maple syrup and feathers?”

“YES, anyways so then he’s like i have a proposition for you…” penelope continues her story but you can’t help but zone out again. your eyes drift back to boy genius as he finishes another trick for little henry before rising up to his full height. it’s in that moment his eyes meet yours and softens as he offers you a small wave.

you return the gesture back which causes the girls at your table to look in the same direction and they come to a glaring conclusion too quickly.

“ah, that’s why you’re not paying attention. too busy ogling mr. houdini over there.” jj remarks.

“i am not!” you scoff.

“oh you so are,” emily says, “when are you going to let yourself feel your heart’s full content.”

“first of all, i can’t stand you. second of all, it’s not worth it. he would never feel the same about me.” you say as emily rolls her eyes.

this time penelope interjected, “oh don’t be so cynical. you haven’t even tried how could you even know?”

but you did know. it’s not that spencer didn’t like you, he treated you the same as any team member, but that was just it. you wanted him to see you as more. during cases you would try to impress him or make breakthroughs in the hopes he would tell you ‘good job’. a couple times you brought him coffee when you got yours, just to hear him say your name and thanks. work conversations rarely seemed to move past small talk, but you’re a little sure that’s on your part because he just made you so nervous. and like, he’s a profiler. so you’re sure to some degree he knows how you feel, and it just makes you regress into your safe hole even further because you think he’s being nice by not acknowledging it and saving you the embarrassment.

the girls knew about your harbored crush for a month now, since the last bau drinks night you got a little too truthful during truth or dare. you were much younger in comparison to your colleagues, so they offered their sympathies at your unrequited love and tried to get you to come out more and let loose.

which is one of the reasons you’re sitting in rossi’s living room, wine glass in hand, as morgan recounts the craziest date hes ever been on. the other reason, which you wouldn’t admit to anyone, was so you could admire your (not) lover from an acceptable distance and not risk embarrassing yourself.

so here you are, two glasses deep, rising up from your spot on the floor telling everyone you’re going to get a refill. your heels click against the hardwood floors all the way to the kitchen where you just so luckily run into the (your) man of the hour.

“hi.”

you were looking down at your feet as you walked to the kitchen, your head snapping up to meet the voice, “hi spencer.” you said softly.

“if you’re looking for more wine, i think emily just grabbed the last bottle,” you must have outwardly deflated as he continued, “that bad out there?”

“only so much wine can get me through penelope’s sexcapades and derek’s crazy one night stands.” you joke.

he chuckles back, “oh i know, why do you think i’m hiding out in here?”

you laugh again before an uncomfortable yet strangely comfortable silence falls between you both. unknowingly you both take turns gazing at each other, indexing the others features as if this moment would be the only chance you got.

you’re about to take your loss and leave when spencer speaks up again, “you know, i wouldn’t put it past rossi to have a secret wine cellar somewhere.”

“honestly, you’re probably right. what kind of italian just runs out of wine.”

spencer pauses slightly before saying, “do you want to see if we can find it?”

you look at his eyes again and catch a glint of mischief? concern that you’re wine-less? whatever it is, you take the bait.

“i’m game.”

—

rossi’s mansion was humongous. it was well known that he was loaded from his years in the bureau and multiple book deals, but holy shit, the rooms just seemed never ending, and none of them were a wine cellar.

“i don’t know spence, i'm starting to lose hope, and debating to revoke rossi’s italian card.”

you’re both in one of the many studies and are about to leave to find another room, when spencer notices a smaller door next to the study. he slowly opens it and peaks inside to find a descending wooden staircase. he looks at you with a smirk, “i think we just found it.”

he holds the door open and gestures you to enter first, following shortly behind you as he shuts the door. he makes sure to check that it’ll still open even after it’s shut, and you both relax a little seeing it still unlock. you move down the stairs, gripping the handrail and praying you don’t trip over your heels and fall to an embarrassing demise.

spencer descends a step behind you, trying so hard not to let his eyes wander down your bare back to the curve of your hips. once he steps off you both go in opposite directions to explore. you take in the vast amount of shelves and wine racks, taking note of how it seems to be separated by year and by type. running your fingers over the labels, you’re intrigued by a shelf with the year you were born, and pause in front of it. you reach up to a shelf that is just a smidge taller than you, hoping to grab the neck of an old wine bottle.

even in your heels you’re struggling, attempting little hops to try and reach. you’re about to give up when you feel a warm hand on your right hip, while an outstretched arm on your left seamlessly grabs the bottle and brings it down to you, “careful sweetheart, don’t wanna break that pretty head of yours.” spencer says lowly.

excuse me, what the fuck did he just say.

you inspect the bottle he so kindly brought down for you, but it’s a futile effort. you can’t even remember why you wanted to see it. all you can think about is your hands clamming up, sending threats to the wine bottle it’s holding. your mind is fogging up fast, and you’re trying to order your brain to say something instead of going mute while he’s still an inch behind you. with his hand on your hip still.

“oh god,” you start shakily, “you scared me spence.” you angle your body to the left so you can attempt to show how unbothered you are and look at his face.

good save (not).

he’s staring down at you with a hint of a smirk on his lips, like he’s keeping a secret from you. his eyes are intently focused on you when he speaks again, “just didn’t want you to get hurt. s’all.”

with his close proximity, you’re sure he can hear your heart beating through both of your chests, hell it was so loud they could probably hear it upstairs. he’s still got you caged in front of him when he continues, “any particular reason for this bottle?”

“yeah no, i just, wanted to see what bottles of wine he had from the year i was born.” you answer, watching as spencer moves back to give you space when you turn to face him.

he nods, “did you know that wine is associated with the greek god dionysus?”

“no i didn’t, actually.”

“it’s really interesting,” he moves forward a tiny inch, “they call him the patron god of wine, but a lot of people often forget that he’s also the god of fertility and ecstasy.”

oh. “ecstasy?” you whisper confusingly.

“yes, he believes when you drink wine it gives you emotional and physical pleasure.”

“how does that even work?” you nervously laugh.

spencer reaches his arm above your head, never breaking eye contact, and grabs two wine glasses by their stems, “you wanna find out?”

with only so many words, you give another nod. he uncorks the bottle with ease and pours out two glasses, with his having a little less than yours, most likely due to his slow but steady return to drinking casually. clinking your glasses, you take a big gulp hoping it’ll satiate the building nerves. but you’re watching the way his fingers wrap around the glass, his veiny hand showing prominently and you’re unable to focus on anything else.

“you know, i’ve been running something of an observation the last few months.”

you take another small sip, starting to feel less nervous, “oh yeah, what about?”

“you.”

it took everything in you not to spit your drink out all over his suit.

“me?”

he nods after another sip, “i’ve been watching you, and not in a creepy way i swear. but i’ve been keeping track of your habits; how you take your coffee, your tells when a case gets too much, things like that,”

that didn’t seem overtly terrible to you, you knew spencer was an observer of his environment, always seeking out patterns to aid his predictions. you’re about to speak when he cuts you off.

“i’ve also been noticing how you seem to change, when i’m in your presence.”

you feel like the sweat and nerves are just oozing out of you at this point, and he continues his verbal taunt.

“i’ve seen your breathing rate get faster,” he moves a step forward, “how your cheeks rise with the faintest red, kind of like right now,” another step forward, “and how you try to avoid looking directly at me because you think i’ll find out everything if you do.”

the room has to be at least a thousand degrees at this point, heart beating so fast it’s probably gone to the moon, and your brain just unable to have any coherent thoughts at the realization that maybe you weren’t as subtle as you thought.

he takes one final step to close the gap between you and delicately places two fingers on the pulse point of your neck, “i couldn’t figure out your heart rate from afar,” he pauses to count, “but now that i know it, i can come to my conclusion.”

the air in your lungs has all but escaped, nowhere to be found. “and wh- what is your conclusion d- doctor reid?” your voice betraying you by dripping with anticipation.

“that i make you nervous. do you agree? do i make you nervous?” he says while you feel the hot breath of his whispers ghosting on your lips.

your mouth opens to say something and then shuts, because what the hell are you supposed to say? any and all logic has left the room, but the last working neuron works to make an unthinkable conclusion of your own. there is no way.

spencer moves his fingers to grip your chin between them, guiding your face to look directly into his copper eyes, “i asked you a question angel, do i make you nervous?”

you’re cornered, “y- yes.”

“why’s that?”

“spencer..”

“is it because you’re thinking of me the same way i think i about you?” his thumb starts tracing the outline of your lower jaw. he’s pressed right up against your chest, his other arm covertly moving to snake around your waist. the way you lean in subconsciously towards him, paired with your silence is all the confirmation he needs.

the pad of his thumb traces your lower lip, dragging it downwards a little. there’s a hitch in his breath when his eyes flicker from your lips back up to meet your eyes again. he quietly mumbles, “can i?”

your eyes widen slightly, relishing in the way his arms are holding you firm and steady. this was about to really happen. you’d been pining after him all this time, believing you were destined for unrequited love. but as spencer stands in front of you, looking at you as if he’d been poisoned and the only antidote is your lips, you can’t help but wonder if there’s been a similar weight on his side that’s been holding him back too.

so you nod once again, and trust your voice this time,

“yes.”

you’re fully expecting him to go into it full force, and kiss you like a man starved. but he lets the premonition bubble for a little longer as he so agonizingly leans down and closes the gap, teasing you with the ghost of his lips on yours without making contact. he waits a moment, and just as he predicted your subconscious betrays you again and you impatiently lean up in an attempt to meet your lips together. spencer can’t help but smile before he softly pressed himself against you.

the feeling of his mouth on yours is something you can only describe as cosmic, like a star exploding into a supernova, emitting a powerful and luminous show of energy. it’s all consuming, the light reaching every neuronal end of your body and electrifying it ten times over. your hands reach up to tangle in his curly hair and he lets out the faintest whimper, spurring you on to grab it more earnestly.

spencer loses all restraint. his hands begin furiously mapping out your body, running up and down your back, reaching down to grasp a handful of your ass. he moves his hands down further to grip your thighs, effortlessly lifting you to sit on the counter behind you. spencer slots himself between your legs and continues kissing you, his mouth marking a hot trail to your neck as he mutters between, “is this okay?”

“please don’t stop.” you moan softly.

his fingers move to deftly slide the straps of your dress off your shoulder, mirroring the movement on the other side while continuing to work his down your neck. he slides the dress far enough down to expose your chest, immediately taking the swollen nub into mouth and running circles around it with his tongue. you let out a sharp gasp at the sudden warmth, whimpers leaving your throat. he repeats the motion to the other one as you cradle his head closer in an attempt to keep him there, as if spencer had any plans of leaving.

he moves his mouth back up to meet yours again, in a lust filled attack sending shock waves straight to your core. you move your fingers to work the buttons of his dress shirt and spencer moves his hand further south and under the hem of your dress, something you don’t notice until his thumbs are rubbing circles onto the plush of your inner thighs. it makes you falter on his last button as he pushes your legs farther apart, inches closer to where you desperately need him.

spencer looks directly into your eyes as his thumbs reach up to hook onto the side of your panties and slowly move them down your legs. he groans outwardly at the resistance caused by your slickness, “all this for me, baby?”

you’re rendered speechless watching spencer and his ministrations but he continues, “you are so goddamn beautiful, you know that?” his fingers are less than an inch away from your cunt, “i see you walk around the office in those tight pants, your hair and makeup all done, and those blouses jesus,” he reaches your entrance and dives in to collect your wetness, you brokenly moan as he begins to spread it all over. “couldn’t tell if you hated me for the longest time.”

“c- could never hate you.” you whine.

“i know baby,” he slides his middle finger into your hole, “just imagine the fun we could’ve had if we figured this out earlier. but it’s okay, we have all the time now.” he sets a steady rhythm before inserting his ring finger, actively working you towards a barreling orgasm.

“spencer, fuck, oh god.”

“you’re so fucking wet, bet you’re gonna come soon, right? gonna make a mess on my hand?” he baited.

you’re in shambles, one hand deathly squeezing onto one shoulder the other turning white from the grip you held on the counter. the moans won’t stop falling out of you, he works his fingers so skillfully within you it’s impossible to hold any resolve when he curves upwards and hits that spot.

your head tilts back, reeling from the intense pressure coil building inside you, the peak about to hit you any moment now. spencer uses his free hand to move your head back down, “look at me when you come on my fingers.”

that was all it took for the white hot to ravage through you, engulfing every sense and leaving you breathless. he continues moving his fingers through your orgasm, watching as you come back down to him. you don’t waste a second reaching for his belt to unfasten it, slipping your hand down to palm him through his boxers. he moans in your ear as he feels you slip inside, your small hand moving up and down, and getting impossibly harder when you take your hand back up to spit on it to then return to your movements.

you take the moment to lean into his neck and leave bites of your own, finding his sweet spot right behind his ear and sucking hard. spencer’s hands have taken a spot on your lower back beneath your dress, pressing so hard with his fingertips you know there’ll be evidence of this night tomorrow.

“spence..” you mutter in the crook in the neck.

“yeah baby?” he whispers back.

“can you fuck me now?”

he preens at your boldness, and wastes no time pulling his pants and boxers down enough to fully free himself. he pulls you closer to the edge of the counter before pulling his length out and giving it a few strokes. he lets it glide between your folds, gathering your wetness as lubricant as it hits your clit. both of you are panting hard realizing the anticipation has led to this moment. spencer positions himself at your entrance, never breaking eye contact with you, and watches your face drop into a perfect ‘oh’ as he pushes in.

spencer is absolutely wrecked as he hears your breathing pick up, reveling in the vice grip your cunt has on him. you’re no better above him as you’ve broken eye contact to stare at where the two of you connect, watching as he disappears into you and the feeling of being so full overtakes you and you’re letting out soft expletives. he bottoms out and stalls for a minute, waiting for you to signal that you’re okay for him to move. in the time he’s waiting, he takes a moment to really look at your face, how absolutely ruined you look, your cheeks are deeply flushed, hair flying in every direction, and he can’t help but tell you, “you look so pretty.”

your eyes soften as you gaze back at him and nod slightly, and he pulls back all the way to ease in again experimentally. once he hears you moan out loud at the movement, and feels you tighten even more around his cock, he loses any and all restraint he’d been holding onto this entire night.

his hips pick up the pace in harsh snaps to your core, sending ripples of pleasure all over you. your arms are wrapped around his neck attempting to pull him impossibly closer to you, “spencer…fuck…” you drawl with a whine.

“i got you baby, gonna take good care of you, promise,” he says back in between grunts. the sentiment causes you to squeeze on his cock again as he attempts to continue, “if you keep…fuck…keep squeezing me like that i’m n- not gonna last long.”

one hand in his hair and the other leaving dark red scratches on his back, you feel your second orgasm of the night hastily creep up on you. he can tell you’re close and quickens his pace as he thumbs your clit. you moan his name out once more before reaching your peak, feeling like your body is on fire as he continues to fuck you through it.

spencer feels his own release building up, “wh- where should i..?”

“inside, i’m on the pill just please come inside me.”

it was more than enough for spencer’s movements to stutter as he released his hot load in you, groaning out loud as he finished.

he slows to a half, still hilted inside of you but softening post orgasm. you’re both breathing heavily as you look up at each other and take in the other’s fucked out faces. spencer presses a chaste kiss to your forehead before resting his own on it, “that was..”

“intense,” he quirks his eyebrows at you, “in a really really good way.” you add quickly.

he smiles down at you, “i wasn’t kidding, what i said earlier. i think about you an embarrassingly high amount each day. i’d love to take you out and make this a real thing.”

“yeah?” you gape incredulously, “thought i was the one embarrassing myself if you were able to notice all those things i did when you were near me.”

he laughs, “no, no it was endearing, definitely made it easier to be as forward as i was tonight knowing you wouldn’t freak out.”

you’re about to respond when you hear the door to the cellar open, you’re both hidden from view but know it’s only a matter of seconds before someone catches you. you both look at each other in panic as spencer pulls out of you, tucking himself back in and zipping up his pants. you grab your panties from the floor and begin to pull them up your legs when he notices his come dripping down your thighs. he swiftly gathers the release on his fingers and shoves it back inside you, causing you to let out a near pornographic moan as he pulls up your underwear all the way.

“did you guys hear that?” a voice sounding like emily said.

“see this is why i don’t do big houses like this, too many creepy ass noises.” morgan.

“mansion,” rossi corrects, “and for a couple of profilers, you both are stupid if you don’t know what that sound was.”

your eyes widen to match spencer’s, you’ve been caught.

“was it a mouse or something?”

“no more like, bunnies,” he joked with an innuendo, “come on, i found the bottle i was looking for, let the bunnies do their thing so they can leave and go home to do whatever it is bunnies do.”

“you’re a weird old man david…” emily muttered.

the door closes and you both let out a big breath, and burst into a fit of laughter, “how the hell are we gonna show our faces to him on monday?” you whine.

“that is a monday us problem,” he starts, “but right now, i think it’s time for me to take you home.” he winks.

two stuffed bunnies show up on yours and spencer’s desk on monday. you’re both redder than a tomato as rossi chuckles when he walks by. prentiss and morgan are still confused.

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irndad · 8 months ago

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a/n: continuation to this, but you don't necessarily have to read it first! all you need to know is reader got shot protecting maeve, and both survived. spencer has been in love with her the entire time.

“Have you called Maeve?”

She asks it on a beautiful, rainy day, about five weeks after the event in question. She’s a little too nonchalant about the whole thing, has been from the start- Spencer’s been correcting for that. He’s been treating her like something fragile, a beautiful glass figure that was almost shattered. This is something he knows irritates her, but how can he not?

He tries not to think of it, but the memory of her in a hospital bed, bandages over her abdomen, the wooziness of giving her blood. He can’t help his caution, now. People assume, quite often that Spencer was unaware of the fact he’s in love with his best friend. Like it was something he didn’t know, didn’t have to live with.

Spencer can be oblivious about a lot of things, but being in love with the person he’s shared a desk with for 4 years is not among them.

“No,” he replies, looking up at her as she sits down, handing him the cup of tea she made him. They’re at his apartment. She’s been cleared for desk work, but Spencer had been nervous about the whole thing. They’ve fallen into a rhythm of her going to his apartment after work, and for how determined he is to tell her how he feels, he’s not really able to pluck up the courage.

“Spence,” she sighs, “You have to call her.”

“I did! When it happened, I called her. We talked. We just don’t talk anymore.”

She furrows her brow in an adorable way, and Spencer’s heart threatens to fall out of his chest. He’s been playing a game of she loves me, she loves me not in his mind for the. Past few weeks.

Took a bullet to see me happy. She loves me.

She stirs her ceramic spoon, the clink of it against the mug fills the silence. She bites her lip, clearly disappointed with his response.

Wants me to call my not but kind-of ex. She loves me not.

She’s wearing this blue floral dress, and he is trying not to stare at where the fabric has ridden up, kissing the skin above her knee. She’s got lipstick on, and he tries not to read into how she’s sitting so close to him. Except he is kind of reading into it.

Before she got hurt, he had tried to shove this feeling down- tried to ignore the swoop of his stomach when she walked by, or when she gave him a compliment, or when she let him do a card trick for her. He tried to shove down how much he fucking hated it the one time she had a date pick her up at the office.

She’s just easy to be in love with. She writes little smiley faces on post-it notes and leaves them on his desk, and when the whole Emily thing had gone down, she’d spent weeks taking care of him through her own grief.

She’s sitting on his couch. Five weeks ago, she was half-dead in a hospital bed, and now she is on his couch, in a beautiful dress after returning from the job they both share.

He does not want to call Maeve.

The comfortable silence turns tense as the episode of Doctor Who plays in the background, and he’s still a little gunshy- she’s breathing, she’s okay. He feels creepy, but he lets his eyes close for a moment so he can hear the sound of her breath, to know it’s still there.

“Spencer,” she says, after she pauses the show, and he turns fully to face her, “I am okay.” She grabs his hand, and he takes a couple of seconds to process the touch as she places it over her own wrist. ‘I am fine. They fixed me up. You are allowed to stop worrying.”

Her tone is even, but intentional. She’s giving him permission, as if his presence is some guilt-driven notion that’s stopping him from getting what he really wants. It’s true, though, that he doesn’t always believe she’s okay. Notices how she’ll wince when she bends a certain way, and the scar by her eyebrow is healing well, but he still searches for it in her face.

He savors the feeling of the soft skin of her wrist under his touch, running his fingers over the junction of her hand and wrist with delicate affection. How she hasn’t figured out he’s in love with her is anyone’s guess.

He wonders what it would feel like to kiss her there.

“I know I can call her,” he manages to say back, meeting her warm gaze in a maybe too honestly in love glance, “I’m where I want to be.”

“Before I got hurt, you picked out an outfit, you asked for advice on dating, Spencer. You did that. I just-“ she sighs, moving her hand from his grasp and pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “The piece of you that wanted that is obviously still there. You don’t have to spend a Friday night with me in your apartment because you feel guilty that I got shot.”

“You’re not here because I’m guilty-“

“Then why-“

“You’re in my apartment right now because I am in love with you, and if you’re out of my sight for more than twelve hours than it’s like I forget that you’re still alive. That you didn’t get yourself killed before I ever got the chance to actually tell you.”

He’s not yelling. Well, he’s kind of yelling. Talking loudly, anyway. Her eyes widened and he’s hyperaware of how close she already was, is. She smells like lilies and her, and it’s all so present. She could have died. She might have never heard it.

She’s heard it now, he supposes. All the weeks of agonizing, notebooks he’s managed to fill in the last few weeks trying to figure out a way to say it to her that could charm her into loving him back- all gone. He’s told her, now.

All the cards are in her hands.

Her doe eyes almost sparkle at him, her head tipped to the side in a fond, loving gesture, and he wants to kiss her, wants to feel her faded-lipstick pout against his mouth. He wants his I love you to turn into I can have this.

“Spence,” her voice is a trembling, insecure thing. One half of his mind wants to rage at him- there’s no way she’s going to tell him she loves him back, that someone like her could ever want someone like him. But the other half, one that seems dangerously like hope- she took a bullet for him. She didn’t even think twice. “You’re in love with me?”

It’s like it’s not even him who replies. Some bitter thing takes over his voice and speaks for him.

“How could I not be? It’s you.”

It’s then he notices, that oh, she’s tearing up.

A beat passes, and Spencer sucks in a deep breath before rambling an absurd amount.

“You don’t have to- We can still be friends, obviously, you know that. But we can, I just- I needed to tell you because when you were in that hospital bed and you’d never heard me say it, I just couldn’t live with you never knowing. But now you do, and you don’t feel the same, and that’s okay-“

He doesn’t get to keep talking, because she grabs him by the collar of his shirt and kisses him. She’s warm and beautiful and her hair brushes up against his cheek and there’s something in him that takes over when he moves to cradle her head between his hands, both desperate to keep her in his grasp and savor the moments he gets to hold her. She tastes like cherry chapstick and something completely undefinable.

When she pulls away after a moment that feels entirely too short, heavy lidded eyes meeting his in affection, and Spencer thinks he’d like to do that for the rest of his life.

“I love you too,” she says back, and he commits it to memory, the sound of her so-sweet voice wrapping around the words he’s fantasized about hearing since the first time she smiled at his joke about philosophy. “I’ve loved you a really, really long time, Spence. I just thought I lost my chance, you know with- with everything. I never really thought I had one.”

He can’t even speak, really. He doesn’t think he can wrap his head around the fact that she felt like he wouldn’t like her back.

It doesn’t feel like a concern, now, when he leans in to kiss her again. She smiles into him, and Spencer memorizes the feel of her waist encircled in his arms, when he realizes that this is the heart he is able to hold without limits.

She loves me too, he thinks. She is safe, she is okay, and she loves me back.

On the following Monday, when Morgan sees the two of them with linked hands before Hotch gets to the office, he doesn’t say anything.

He does hand Emily 20 dollars, though.

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

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reidmarieprentiss · 3 months ago

Text

Like Real People Do

Summary: After you fill in for JJ, Spencer has to deal with seeing you everyday at work.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst

Warnings/Includes: nondescript smut (16+), sexual tension, suggestive content, angst, arguing, ignoring feelings, repressing emotions, consumption of alcohol, Jemily, bisexual Penelope, brief discussions of cases and danger

Word count: 13k

a/n: the asked for part two to Too Sweet !!! will also be writing a part three oops lmao

main masterlist

part one part three

Spencer avoided you as much as possible during your first week with the team, and it pissed him off relentlessly that you didn’t seem to care. Every time he caught a glimpse of you, you were chatting easily with Emily, sharing a laugh with Derek, or diving into casework with the kind of enthusiasm that made everyone around you smile. You treated him just the same as you treated everyone else on the team—detached, professional, and completely unfazed by the tension he was sure hung between you. Spencer hated it.

He found himself watching you out of the corner of his eye, searching for any sign that you were affected by his presence, by the shared history that he couldn’t seem to forget. But you remained infuriatingly composed, your demeanor perfectly neutral. There was no awkwardness, no hesitation, no trace of the woman who had shared an intimate night with him only to disappear without a word. You were the perfect liaison—competent, friendly, and utterly professional. Spencer hated it.

One afternoon, you approached his desk with a bright smile, holding out a case file. “Hey, Doctor Reid, here’s the case file Hotch asked me to pass out. He specifically wants you to work on the geographical profile.”

“Thanks,” Spencer muttered, barely looking up as he took the file from your hand. His voice was clipped, his tone dismissive, but if it bothered you, you didn’t show it.

“You got it!” you replied cheerfully before turning to Derek’s desk, completely unbothered by Spencer’s curt response.

Spencer watched as you handed Derek his file with the same effortless professionalism. “Derek, here’s your file. Hotch asked that you look at the victimology.”

Derek grinned, leaning back in his chair as he took the file from you. “You bet, sweetcheeks,” he said with a wink, clearly pleased with the new nickname he’d given you.

Spencer bristled. He hated that you already had a nickname, that you’d integrated so seamlessly into the team. Everyone loved you, and why wouldn’t they? You were a lovely person—to them. You were always friendly, always helpful, always the first to crack a joke or lend a hand. To them, you were the perfect addition to the team. But to Spencer, you were a constant reminder of the hurt, confusion, and anger that had been gnawing at him for weeks.

He couldn’t understand how you could be so detached, so unaffected by everything that had happened between you. It gnawed at him, fueled his frustration every time he saw you laughing with Penelope or discussing a case with Hotch. How could you be so calm, so professional, when he was struggling to keep his emotions in check every time you were in the same room?

It made him furious, how easily you seemed to fit in. The way you spoke to him was exactly the same as how you spoke to Derek or Emily—there was no trace of recognition, no hint of anything beyond the professional. You didn’t flinch when he was cold, didn’t react to his clipped tones. If anything, you treated him with the same detached politeness you offered to everyone else. And that, more than anything, drove him crazy.

As the week dragged on, Spencer’s frustration simmered beneath the surface. He couldn’t shake the feeling that you were doing it on purpose—that you were deliberately pretending nothing had happened, just to get under his skin. Every time you walked past his desk with a smile, every time you handed him a file with that same calm demeanor, it was like salt in the wound. And the worst part was that you seemed completely oblivious to the effect you were having on him.

But Spencer wasn’t going to let it go. He wasn’t going to let you off the hook that easily. He’d confront you when the time was right, make you face the mess you’d left behind. But for now, he had to swallow his anger and focus on the case, even if it killed him to be in the same room with you.

As you moved on to distribute the rest of the case files, Spencer’s eyes followed you, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He couldn’t stand how professional you were, how detached, how much he wanted you to acknowledge him in some way that wasn’t wrapped in pleasantries and polite distance. The unresolved friction hung heavy in the air, and Spencer knew it was only a matter of time before it boiled over.

—

It was a typical Friday afternoon in the bullpen, the atmosphere lighter as everyone looked forward to the weekend. Spencer sat at his desk, his eyes flicking over the case file in front of him, though his mind was far from the details of the case. He was hyper-aware of your presence across the room, the sound of your voice carrying just enough for him to catch snippets of your conversation with Derek.

“Hey, sweetcheeks, you got any plans tonight?” Derek asked, his tone playful as always.

You grinned at him, clearly enjoying the banter. “Hello, Derek,” you replied with a teasing lilt in your voice. “I do, actually.”

“Ohhh, what’s up, a hot date?” Derek continued, the playful edge in his voice making it clear he was just having fun.

Spencer’s ears perked up at that, his focus shifting entirely to your conversation. He kept his eyes on his file, pretending to be engrossed in his work, but he was listening intently.

“Oh yeah, super hot date,” you smirked, your tone dripping with mock-seriousness.

Spencer’s jaw clenched involuntarily, and an unexpected wave of jealousy surged through him. The idea of you with someone else—laughing, smiling, sharing moments like the one you had with him—made his chest tighten with a mix of anger and hurt. He kind of wanted to slap you, though the rational part of his mind quickly reminded him that he would never do such a thing, especially not to a woman.

“Damn, Y/L,” Derek said with a chuckle, leaning back in his chair. “Wish it was me.”

You laughed, leaning in slightly as you replied, “Oh, I know, and it could be easily.”

Spencer’s stomach twisted at that. He couldn’t take it anymore. The easy way you flirted with Derek, the way you brushed off everything that had happened between the two of you as if it were nothing—it was too much. Without another word, he abruptly stood from his desk and took off, leaving the bullpen in a rush, his emotions boiling over. He was pissed, hurt, and tired of pretending like everything was fine.

Meanwhile, Derek tilted his head, intrigued by your response. “How do you mean?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“My hot date?” you replied with a mischievous grin. “Is my bathtub with salts and bubbles, baby.”

Derek burst out laughing, clearly amused by your response. “Ah, I see how it is. Gotta pamper yourself, huh?”

“Always,” you winked, feeling pleased with yourself for the playful banter.

But, of course, Spencer didn’t hear that part. He was long gone, too caught up in the idea that you were going on a date, too overwhelmed by the emotions he couldn’t seem to shake. He didn’t know the full story, didn’t realize that you were just playing around. All he knew was that you seemed to be moving on without a care in the world, while he was stuck in the unresolved mess of his feelings.

As you and Derek continued your conversation, completely unaware of Spencer’s reaction, the tension in the bullpen grew. Spencer’s departure didn’t go unnoticed by the others, though no one quite knew what had set him off this time.

—

The team was gathered in the precinct in Atlanta, waiting for Hotch to hand out assignments for the day. The atmosphere was tense, everyone on edge due to the gruesome nature of the case. Hotch’s voice was calm and authoritative as he began assigning tasks.

“Reid, you go with L/N to speak with the family,” Hotch instructed, his tone leaving no room for questions—at least, that was usually the case.

“What? Why?” Spencer blurted out before he could stop himself.

The sudden outburst caught everyone off guard. Derek, Emily, and Rossi all looked at him with surprise, their eyes widening slightly at his uncharacteristic challenge to Hotch’s authority. It had been a long time since Spencer had questioned Hotch like this. Something was clearly wrong.

Hotch’s gaze narrowed slightly, his expression hardening as he addressed Spencer. “It’s your assignment, and you will take it. Go.”

The finality in Hotch’s tone left no room for arguments. Spencer knew better than to push further, but the pressure in the air was palpable. His frustration was obvious, and it didn’t go unnoticed by anyone, especially you.

You knew things were tense between you and Spencer, but you hadn’t realized it had reached the point where he would openly question Hotch.

“Uh, I can drive if you want,” you offered, trying to bridge the gap. You had noticed that Spencer preferred not to drive, often handing over the keys to someone else.

For the first time, Spencer saw a crack in your usually cheery demeanor. You looked a little sheepish, almost uncertain, as you made the offer.

“Great, let’s go,” Spencer said curtly, tossing the keys to the SUV at you without another word.

The drive was awkward and quiet, the strain between you almost suffocating. Spencer sat in the passenger seat, his eyes glued to the file in front of him, while you focused on the road, trying to ignore the uneasy silence. The only sound was the occasional rustle of paper as Spencer flipped through the case notes, the quiet hum of the engine filling the space between you.

After what felt like an eternity, you broke the silence. “I can go in alone,” you offered, your tone neutral, almost indifferent.

Spencer looked up from the file, narrowing his eyes in confusion. “Why would you do that?”

“Well, you clearly didn’t want this assignment,” you replied, glancing at him briefly before returning your attention to the road.

“That had nothing to do with speaking to the family,” Spencer snapped, his voice tight with frustration.

“Ah, got it,” you said, your tone calm, almost detached, as if you were simply acknowledging the fact and moving on.

Your nonchalance in that moment, the way you brushed off his anger like it was nothing, made Spencer’s temper boil over. He couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“What is wrong with you?” he demanded, his voice rising with frustration.

“I'm sorry?” you responded, genuinely taken aback by the sudden outburst.

“You should be!” Spencer retorted, his words laced with bitterness. “How are you acting like everything is fine?”

“Did I do something to upset you, Doctor Reid?” you asked, your tone still calm but now tinged with an undercurrent of confusion.

“Uh, yeah, you did,” Spencer shot back, his voice trembling with the intensity of his emotions. He could feel the anger bubbling up, hurt and frustration that had been festering for weeks.

You pulled the car to a stop at a red light, turning to face him with a steady gaze. “Then tell me what it is,” you said, your voice no longer as detached as before.

Spencer hesitated, his mind racing. Part of him wanted to lay everything out, to tell you how hurt he was by the way you left him that morning, how angry he was that you acted like nothing had happened between you two. But another part of him was conflicted, unsure if it was even worth bringing up now.

“You left,” Spencer finally said, his voice lower but filled with raw emotion. “You left without a word, without even a note, and then you just show up here like it meant nothing. And now, you’re acting like we’re strangers. Like none of it mattered.”

You stared at him, processing his words. The light turned green, and you started driving again, your grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly. For a moment, you were silent, weighing your response.

“It wasn’t nothing,” you said quietly after a long pause. “But it wasn’t something I thought needed to be addressed. We had a night, Spencer, and that’s all it was. I didn’t think it would turn into… this.”

Spencer shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “You really don’t get it, do you? You just left, Y/N. No explanation, no closure. And now I have to work with you every day, pretending like I don’t care, when it’s driving me crazy.”

You exhaled slowly, the tension in the car thickening as you both realized how deep the wound had become. The professionalism that you had clung to suddenly felt like a flimsy shield, barely holding back the storm of emotions between you.

“Spencer,” you began, your voice softer now, almost apologetic, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought… I thought it would be easier for both of us to just leave it behind.”

“Well, you were wrong,” Spencer replied sharply, his voice trembling with the effort to keep his emotions in check. “Because I can’t just leave it behind.”

Silence fell over the car again, but this time it was different. It was charged with unresolved feelings and the weight of words unspoken. The friction that had been simmering between you had finally boiled over, and there was no going back to how things were before.

The rest of the drive passed in heavy silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts, unsure of how to navigate the mess that had been laid bare. The case awaited you, but the real challenge was the emotional minefield you were both now walking through.

One thing was clear: this conversation wasn’t over, and neither was whatever it was that had started between you and Spencer.

—

When the case was finally closed and the team arrived back in Quantico, Hotch’s voice cut through the noise, calm but firm. “Reid, can I see you in my office?”

Spencer froze for a moment, then nodded silently and followed Hotch into his office, bracing himself for what he knew was coming. As soon as the door closed behind him, Hotch turned to face him, his expression stern.

“Do you want to tell me what has been going on with you?” Hotch asked, his tone leaving no room for deflection.

“Nothing is going on,” Spencer replied, his voice clipped and defensive as he tried to brush off the question. He avoided Hotch’s gaze, focusing instead on a spot on the wall just over his shoulder.

Hotch’s eyes narrowed slightly, clearly unimpressed with Spencer’s attempt to deflect. “We both know that’s not true, but if you’d like to ignore it, that’s fine. Just stop letting it affect your work.”

“Yes, sir,” Spencer responded, his tone stiff as he nodded, eager to leave the office and put this conversation behind him. He turned to leave, his hand already on the doorknob.

“And Reid?” Hotch’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Yes?” Spencer replied, turning back to face his unit chief.

“Give Y/N a chance,” Hotch said, his tone softening slightly. “I know you don’t like change, but she’s doing a great job. Don’t be so hard on her.”

The words hit Spencer like a punch to the gut. He felt a wave of anger surge through him, his emotions boiling over once again. Without a word, he turned on his heel and slammed the office door behind him with more force than he intended.

The sound echoed through the bullpen, drawing the attention of his teammates, but Spencer didn’t care. He stormed away, his mind a whirlwind of frustration and conflicting emotions. Hotch’s words replayed in his head, only serving to fuel his anger further.

It wasn’t just about Y/N doing a good job or fitting in with the team. It was about the unresolved mess between them, the feelings he couldn’t shake, and the fact that she seemed completely unaffected by it all. He knew he was being irrational, but that only made him angrier.

—

The team was out for dinner, a well-deserved break after the grueling case in Atlanta. Everyone had already gathered around the table, chatting and laughing, when you and Spencer arrived—separately, of course. But as fate would have it, you walked in at the same time, an awkward coincidence that neither of you could avoid.

Spencer, despite everything, was still a gentleman. He held the door open for you, and you offered him a polite smile and a nod of thanks. The gesture was small, but it was the first sign of normalcy between you two in weeks. For a brief moment, you both seemed to fall back into your natural roles—Spencer being courteous, and you being gracious.

But when you reached the table, you both quickly realized that the rest of the team had already taken their seats, leaving only two spots open—right next to each other. The air between you immediately grew tense as you took in the situation. Spencer’s eyes went wide, his face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration, and he heaved a deep sigh. He quickly moved to sit in the seat closest to Emily, hoping that sitting next to her would be a safer option than being near Derek, who was sure to stir the pot.

Unfortunately for Spencer, this left you next to Derek. As you settled into your seat, Derek flashed you a playful grin. “Hey, sweetcheeks. You clean up nice,” he said, his voice full of flirtatious warmth.

Before you could respond, Penelope’s voice rang out in mock indignation. “Derek Morgan, are you openly flirting with another woman in front of me?” she demanded, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

You laughed softly, turning to Penelope with a wink. “Oh, it’s okay, Pen. I won’t take your chocolate thunder. But maybe you can spare me a taste?” Your playful response sent a ripple of laughter around the table, everyone enjoying the lighthearted banter—everyone except Spencer.

Emily, who had been quietly observing the interaction, noticed the way Spencer’s shoulders were tense, his posture stiff as he stared down at the table. “You good, Reid?” she asked, her voice gentle with concern.

Spencer snapped out of his thoughts, blinking rapidly as he looked up. “Hmm? Yeah, just trying to decide what to get,” he mumbled, clearly distracted.

Emily raised an eyebrow, glancing pointedly at the unopened menu in front of him. “You haven’t even opened the menu…”

The observation made the rest of the team go quiet for a moment, all eyes subtly shifting to Spencer. It wasn’t like him to be so off-kilter, especially with the team. The strain between you two hadn’t gone unnoticed, and now, with everyone watching, it was clear that something was bothering him.

Spencer quickly realized that all eyes were on him, and he felt his face heat up even more. He fumbled for the menu, flipping it open with a little more force than necessary. “I’m just… still thinking about the case,” he said, his voice sounding a bit too forced.

Derek, always one to poke fun, leaned in with a grin. “C’mon, man. We closed that case days ago. What’s really on your mind?”

Spencer’s eyes darted to you for the briefest moment before he looked away, but it was enough for Derek to catch. The playful grin on Derek’s face widened as he put two and two together. “Ah, I see,” he said with a knowing nod, but he didn’t push further—at least, not yet.

The tension at the table eased slightly as the team returned to their conversations, but the underlying pressure between you and Spencer remained. You could feel his discomfort radiating from him, and though you tried to focus on the conversation around you, it was hard to ignore the awkwardness.

As the night wore on, you couldn’t help but wonder how long this uneasy dynamic would last. The team was clearly aware that something was up, and sooner or later, it would come to a head.

Derek had noticed Spencer’s mood throughout the evening, and when it was time to leave, he realized that Spencer had taken the bus to dinner. With a casual smile, Derek offered him a ride home, which Spencer accepted, grateful for the gesture. But as soon as he climbed into Derek’s car, he began to regret it.

They had barely pulled out of the parking lot when Derek broke the silence with a teasing grin. “So, you got it bad for the new girl, huh?”

“What?” Spencer bit out, his voice sharper than he intended. He turned to Derek, his eyes wide with surprise and irritation.

“Oh, come on, we can all tell there’s some tension there,” Derek continued, clearly enjoying himself. “Why don’t you just ask her out?”

“I don’t like her like that,” Spencer snapped, his tone defensive as he stared out the window, avoiding Derek’s gaze. The street lights flickered by in a blur, but his mind was still racing with thoughts of you.

“Oh no?” Derek’s voice was laced with amusement, but there was also a hint of curiosity. “Then what is it? Just want to sleep with her?”

Spencer’s jaw clenched, his hands tightening into fists on his lap. “Drop it, Derek,” he said through gritted teeth, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Alright, alright,” Derek said, holding up one hand in a gesture of surrender while keeping the other on the steering wheel. “I’m just saying, kid, you’re a catch, and she’d be lucky to go out with a guy like you.”

Spencer couldn’t help the snort that escaped him. The idea of you being “lucky” to go out with him was laughable. As if you hadn’t already shown him exactly where he stood by leaving him behind without a word. As if you weren’t the one who had made him feel like a fool for even entertaining the idea that there could have been something more between you.

“That’s absurd,” Spencer muttered, shaking his head. “She’s not interested, Derek. Trust me.”

Derek glanced over at Spencer, noticing the bitterness in his voice and the tension in his posture. Something deeper was going on here, something that went beyond the usual awkwardness Spencer displayed around women he liked. But Derek knew better than to push too hard, especially when Spencer was clearly on edge.

“Alright, man,” Derek said more gently this time. “But if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here. No judgment, just listening.”

Spencer nodded stiffly, grateful for Derek’s attempt at understanding but unwilling to open up about the tangled mess of emotions he was dealing with. He appreciated the offer, but this was something he wasn’t ready to discuss, not with Derek or anyone else.

—

“So, we’ve got to set them up, right?” Emily asked conspiratorially, leaning in close to Penelope as they sat together at the end of a busy day. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and she was already imagining how this little plan could unfold.

“Obviously!” Penelope giggled, her enthusiasm bubbling over. “Spencer has it so bad for her. It’s like watching a rom-com, except the leads are way too awkward to realize they’re in one.”

“But does Y/N even like him?” Emily asked, frowning slightly. “I mean, she’s nice and friendly to everyone, but I’ve never seen her look twice at him. What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

Penelope paused, tapping a finger thoughtfully against her chin. “You’re right, she’s hard to read. But maybe she’s just being professional, you know? She’s still new to the team—maybe she’s keeping her cards close to her chest.”

Emily nodded slowly, considering the idea. “True, but if we’re going to play matchmaker, we need to know where she stands. We can’t push them together if she’s not interested.”

A mischievous grin spread across Penelope’s face as an idea struck her. “What if we have a girls’ night?” she suggested, her voice full of excitement. “Get to know her better, loosen her up with some drinks, and ask about boys!”

Emily’s eyes lit up at the suggestion. “Yes! That’s perfect. We can make it a casual thing, just us girls hanging out, and see if she spills anything about her love life.”

“And if she does like Spencer, we’ll know exactly how to help them along,” Penelope added, already planning the evening in her head. “Plus, it’ll be fun to get to know her better. I’m sure she’s got some interesting stories.”

Emily leaned back in her chair, already imagining how the night would go. “This could be great. We’ll find out what makes her tick, and who knows? Maybe we’ll get her to admit she’s got a thing for our favorite doctor.”

Penelope clapped her hands together, practically vibrating with excitement. “Operation Girls’ Night is officially a go! We’ll plan it for this weekend—drinks, gossip, and maybe a little matchmaking.”

The two women exchanged a conspiratorial grin, pleased with their plan. They were determined to figure out what was going on between you and Spencer, and they weren’t above using a little friendly interrogation to get the answers they wanted. After all, if there was even a chance that you liked Spencer back, they were going to make sure you both got the push you needed.

—

The jet hummed softly as it cruised through the night sky, the team returning to Quantico after wrapping up another tough case. The mood was subdued, everyone lost in their own thoughts, until Emily decided to break the silence.

“Hey, Y/N,” she called out casually, her tone light as she turned to face you. “Do you have any plans this weekend?”

You looked up from the book you were reading, slightly surprised by the sudden question. “Uh, not that I can think of,” you replied, offering a small smile. “Why, what’s up?”

Before Emily could respond, Spencer, who had been unusually quiet during the flight, mumbled something under his breath without looking up. “No dates?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

The question hung in the air for a moment, the friction palpable as everyone exchanged glances. It was a rare moment for Spencer to say something so directly, and the team silently noted it, but decided to let it slide for now, choosing not to address the awkwardness.

Emily quickly picked up the conversation, steering it back on track. “Well… Garcia and I were thinking we could have a girls’ night!” she said brightly, her tone full of enthusiasm. “You know, just us ladies—drinks, snacks, maybe some bad movies?”

Your face lit up at the suggestion, your smile widening. “Oh, that sounds fun! I would love to!” you replied, genuinely excited at the idea. The past few weeks had been intense, and a girls’ night sounded like the perfect way to unwind and bond with your new teammates.

Penelope, who had been sitting across from you, perked up at the mention of girls’ night. “Yay! I’m so glad you’re in, Y/N! We’ll have the best time—trust me, you won’t want to miss it.”

Emily and Penelope exchanged a quick, satisfied glance, their plan already in motion. Spencer, on the other hand, remained silent, his eyes still fixed on the book in his lap, though his mind was clearly elsewhere. The subtle tension in the air didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the team, but they all pretended not to notice, keeping the atmosphere light.

—

You arrived at Penelope’s apartment armed with pajamas and a bottle of wine, ready for a much-needed girls’ night. The warm, welcoming atmosphere was exactly what you needed after the intense cases and whatever had been brewing between you and Spencer. As soon as you stepped inside, you were greeted by the delicious scent of snacks, the soft glow of string lights, and the comforting sound of a movie playing in the background.

Penelope, Emily, and you quickly settled in, surrounded by cozy blankets, a spread of snacks, and plenty of wine. The conversation flowed easily, punctuated by bursts of laughter as you all relaxed into the evening.

“So, Pen, how are things between you and Kevin? Still awkward?” Emily asked with a teasing grin as she took a sip of her wine.

“Oh yeah, not touching that again. Messy!” Penelope replied, wrinkling her nose in mock disgust. “We’ve officially moved on to the ‘friendly but distant’ phase.”

Emily chuckled and leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Anyone else tickling your fancy?”

Penelope’s face lit up with a shy smile, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Well, there’s this girl… I met her at my book club. She’s new, and she asked me out!”

“What! Penelope, that’s great!” you exclaimed, joining in on the excitement.

“Thanks, you guys,” Penelope said, beaming with happiness. “It’s still early days, but I’m really looking forward to seeing where it goes.”

Penelope turned her attention back to Emily. “How about you, Em? Anyone special in your life?”

Emily laughed softly, shaking her head. “Hmm… well, JJ is at home with our child right now, so I’m pretty set in that department.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What?? I didn’t know you and JJ were together!”

Emily grinned, clearly amused by your reaction. “Yeah, we’ve been together for a while now. We don’t talk about it much at work; we try to keep it professional, you know?”

“Of course, I just can’t believe no one mentioned it,” you replied, still a bit stunned by the revelation.

Penelope giggled, taking another sip of her wine. “I guess it’s common knowledge around the team. We forget not everyone knows.”

You leaned back against the cushions, feeling more comfortable now that the ice was broken. “Is it hard working with your partner?” you asked, genuinely curious about how they balanced their personal and professional lives.

Emily and Penelope shared a quick look before Emily answered. “No, not at all. If anything, it makes work easier, knowing I get to be with her all day, every day. And she motivates me to do better too.”

“Wow, that sounds amazing,” you said, smiling at the thought of such a supportive relationship. “It must be nice to have someone who understands your job so well.”

“It is,” Emily agreed, her eyes softening as she thought about JJ. “We’ve had our challenges, but in the end, we’re stronger for it. And it’s definitely made me appreciate how important it is to have someone who’s in your corner, both at work and at home.”

A comforting silence fell over the three of you, the kind of quiet that only comes when people feel truly at ease in each other’s company. The sound of the movie playing softly in the background mixed with the occasional clink of glasses, creating a cozy atmosphere that wrapped around you like a warm blanket.

After a few moments, Penelope broke the silence with a gentle, curious question. “What about you, Y/N?”

“Me?” you replied, looking up from your glass, slightly caught off guard.

“Yes, you!” Penelope grinned, her eyes twinkling with interest. “Any suitors in your life?”

You let out a small laugh, a mix of amusement and self-deprecation, as you tried to shrug off the question. “Oh, hah… none that last longer than one night,” you joked, though there was a hint of uncomfortability behind your words that you couldn’t quite hide.

Emily and Penelope exchanged a quick glance, both of them picking up on the undertone of your response. The lightness in the air dimmed just a little, the laughter fading into a more contemplative mood.

“Ah, the elusive one-night wonders,” Emily said with a wry smile, trying to keep the mood light while acknowledging the hint of vulnerability in your voice. “They can be fun, but they’re not exactly the stuff of fairy tales.”

Penelope, ever the compassionate one, leaned in a bit closer, her voice soft and reassuring. “You know, Y/N, there’s nothing wrong with enjoying those nights, but if you’re looking for something more… well, you deserve that too. Sometimes it just takes time to find the right person.”

You smiled gratefully at Penelope, appreciating her kindness. “Thanks, Pen. I guess I’m just not even sure what I’m looking for.”

“What do you mean?” Emily asked, her tone gentle but curious as she leaned in a little closer, genuinely interested in what you had to say.

You sighed, trying to put your swirling thoughts into words. “I don’t know… I thought I knew what I wanted, but then something changed, and now I’m even more confused than ever.”

“What happened?” Penelope asked, her curiosity piqued. There was no judgment in her voice, just a soft encouragement that made you feel comfortable enough to share.

You hesitated for a moment, gathering your thoughts before speaking. “Well, I met a man, and we spent a night together. It was… amazing, not just the sex, but the conversation, the connection. It felt different, you know? Like it could have been something more. But I’ve got some stuff—baggage, I guess—and my mind is a mess. I think I might have ruined it by running away before it could become anything. But the thing is, I’m not even sure if I would want anything more right now. It’s just so complicated.”

Emily and Penelope exchanged a quick, subtle glance, both of them piecing together what you were saying. Given the recent tension between you and Spencer—his unusual behavior, your guarded interactions, and the awkward moments when you were in the same room—it wasn’t hard for them to suspect that Spencer might be the man you were talking about.

They had to play this cool and casual, though. If you were talking about Spencer, the last thing they wanted to do was push you too hard and make you shut down. But if it wasn’t Spencer, they needed to know that, too, because it would affect how they approached their little matchmaking plan.

Penelope leaned in slightly, keeping her tone light. “It sounds like you’re in a tough spot. But it’s okay to feel unsure, Y/N. Sometimes things are complicated, and it takes time to sort through what you really want.”

Emily nodded in agreement, adding, “Exactly. And no one’s saying you have to have it all figured out right now. It’s okay to take things slow and figure out what you need for yourself.”

You looked at both of them, feeling a sense of relief that they weren’t pushing you for more details or making assumptions. “Thanks, you guys. It’s just hard when you feel like you’ve found something special, but you’re not in the right place to pursue it.”

Penelope gave you a warm smile. “Whatever you decide, just know that we’re here for you. And if it’s meant to be, it’ll find a way to work out, even if it’s a little messy.”

You smiled back, feeling a bit lighter after sharing your thoughts. “I hope so. I just need to figure out what’s going on in my head first.”

The conversation shifted to other topics after that, but Emily and Penelope couldn’t help but keep an eye on you, silently wondering if Spencer was the man you were talking about. If it was him, they knew they had to tread carefully. But if it wasn’t… well, their plans might need some adjusting.

As the night went on, the three of you continued to bond over wine, laughter, and shared stories. But beneath the surface, both Emily and Penelope were already plotting their next move, determined to either help you sort through your complicated feelings or figure out if you were talking about someone else entirely.

—

The team had been called out to Florida to investigate a string of brutal murders that had the local authorities stumped. The unsub had a specific and chilling pattern: targeting young, straight, white couples, forcing the boyfriend to murder his girlfriend before disposing of the bodies. The case was as gruesome as it was urgent, and the BAU knew they had to act quickly to prevent more lives from being lost.

After reviewing the case details, Hotch gathered the team in the conference room of their makeshift command center. “We believe the unsub is selecting his victims from a specific nightclub in the area,” Hotch began, his voice steady. “He’s likely using this location as a hunting ground, identifying couples that match his preferred victimology. We need to draw him out.”

Hotch turned to Spencer with a serious expression. “Reid would you be comfortable playing the part of the boyfriend in an attempt to get the unsub’s attention at the club?”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, his mind racing. This was far outside his comfort zone, but the urgency of the situation left him with little choice. “If it’s what’s needed, I’ll do it,” he agreed, though his voice was a bit tighter than usual.

Hotch nodded, appreciating Spencer’s willingness. “Thank you, Reid. We’ll ensure you have all the backup you need.”

Hotch then turned to Emily, intending to ask her to be Spencer’s counterpart. “Prentiss, I’d like you to play the role of the girlfriend. We can work on the cover story and—”

Before he could finish, Emily shook her head, interrupting him. “Hotch, I think I’m too old to fit the unsub’s victimology. He’s targeting younger couples, and I wouldn’t blend in as well as someone closer to the profile.”

Hotch paused, considering her words. She had a point—the unsub’s victims had all been in their twenties. He needed someone who could convincingly pass as a target (Emily could let’s be real). His eyes drifted toward you, and though he was hesitant, he knew you were the best option given the circumstances.

He turned to you, his expression serious. “Y/N, I know this isn’t what you signed up for as a liaison, and I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position. But with Prentiss being right about the victimology, you’re our best option. I can give you a quick debriefing and some coaching if you agree.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden request. You were used to working in the field, but this was different—this was personal and dangerous. The thought of working so closely with Spencer made your stomach tighten. But you also knew how high the stakes were. If your participation could save lives, you couldn’t refuse.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded. “If you think it’s the best course of action, I’ll do it. Just make sure I know what I’m doing.”

Hotch offered you a reassuring nod. “You’ll have all the support you need. We’ll work through the cover story and logistics before you head out. And remember, the entire team will be watching your backs.”

With the plan in motion, the team began preparing for the undercover operation. The pressure in the air was thick as Hotch pulled you aside for a quick but thorough debriefing. You could feel the weight of the situation settling on your shoulders, but you steeled yourself, determined to do whatever it took to help catch the unsub.

“Okay, Y/N,” Hotch began, his voice calm and authoritative, “this is what you need to do.”

He handed you a small earpiece. “You’ll be wearing this the entire time. We’ll be in constant communication with you and Spencer. The team will be monitoring everything from the van outside, so if anything feels off or if you sense any danger, just signal us, and we’ll intervene immediately.”

You nodded, slipping the earpiece in and adjusting it. The idea of being so closely monitored was both reassuring and nerve-wracking, but you pushed those feelings aside.

Hotch continued, his tone serious. “When you get to the club, you need to act naturally—like a couple out for a night of fun. The unsub is methodical, and he’s likely watching for couples who fit his victim profile. You and Spencer need to blend in, but you also need to be aware of your surroundings. Stay close to Spencer, and don’t let your guard down.”

He paused, looking you in the eye. “Remember, the unsub likely approaches the couples he targets with charm and subtlety. You may not recognize him right away, so trust your instincts. If anyone seems too interested in you or Spencer, report it immediately.”

You swallowed, feeling the gravity of the situation. “What if he tries to separate us?”

“That’s unlikely at first,” Hotch replied. “He’ll want to gain your trust before making his move. But if he does try, make it difficult. Stay close to Spencer. Your job is to make sure the unsub believes you’re a real couple. Your cover story is that you’ve been dating for a few months, and this is a special night out for you.”

You met Hotch’s gaze, feeling nerves and determination. “I understand. I won’t let you down.”

Hotch gave you a reassuring nod. “Good. We’ll be right there with you every step of the way.”

With that, the briefing was over. You felt the weight of the mission settle more heavily on your shoulders, but you also knew you had the full support of the team behind you. As you walked back to where Spencer was waiting, you mentally prepared yourself for what was to come.

You approached Spencer with hesitation and resolve, knowing that this conversation needed to happen before you both went undercover. The tension between you had been simmering for weeks, and now you were about to put on an act that required you to be convincingly in love. The irony wasn’t lost on you.

“Spencer…?” you began, your voice cautious.

“Yes?” he replied, his tone clipped, already on edge.

“This is going to be awkward, and I’m sorry for that,” you continued, trying to break the ice. “Can we just keep this professional? We can act like we like each other to save lives, right?” You attempted a light-hearted joke, but it fell flat.

“Of course, Y/N. I’m not a child,” Spencer snapped back, his irritation clear. So much for pretending to like you.

You winced slightly at his tone but pressed on. “Okay…um, I also wanted to say that—well, nothing is off the table. Whatever it takes to catch this guy, get his attention, make him believe we’re a desirable couple in love…let’s do it.”

Spencer’s eyes softened just a fraction as he realized you were serious. He took a deep breath, nodding. “Okay, I agree. We’ll do whatever it takes.”

The conversation was brief and tense, but at least you had established some ground rules. There was still a thick layer of unresolved emotion between you, but you both knew that when it came down to it, the mission took priority.

—

You and Spencer had gotten ready separately for the club, knowing that you needed to look the part if you were going to convincingly play a couple that the unsub might target. Emily had been by your side as you prepared, her encouragement and sharp eye ensuring that you looked hot as hell. She may have had a hidden agenda, hoping that something real might spark between you and Spencer tonight, but she kept those thoughts to herself.

When the time came, you both met in the hotel lobby, the plan ready to be set into motion. But as soon as you laid eyes on each other, the seriousness of the situation was momentarily forgotten, both of you sent mildly for a loop by each other’s appearance.

Spencer’s gaze swept over you, taking in the way your outfit hugged every curve. The tight, red top and matching skirt, revealing just enough to be teasing, had his mind reeling. He was suddenly, and quite vividly, reminded of the night you’d spent together, the memory of you beneath him flashing in his mind. The sight of you now, looking so effortlessly sexy, made his throat go dry.

Meanwhile, you were having a hard time picking your jaw up off the floor. Spencer, who usually favored his vests and button-ups, had ditched the formal wear for a more relaxed look. The simple gray t-shirt clung to his lean frame, accentuating the lines of his shoulders and chest. The addition of the chain around his neck was enough to make your heart skip a beat. You had always thought Spencer was attractive, but seeing him like this—so casual, so effortlessly confident—had your pulse racing.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, both caught up in the unexpected surge of attraction. It was clear that the night ahead was going to be challenging in more ways than one. But as the mission loomed over you, the strain between you simmered just beneath the surface, threatening to bubble over.

Finally, Spencer broke the silence, clearing his throat as he tried to regain his composure. “You… uh, you look great, Y/N. Ready for this?”

You forced a smile, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest. “Thanks, Spencer. You clean up pretty well yourself. Let’s do this.”

With that, you both turned toward the exit, the air between you charged with unresolved feelings and unspoken words. The night had just begun, and already, it was clear that the lines between your undercover roles and your real emotions were going to be dangerously blurred.

—

Inside the club, the pulsing beat of the music and the flashing lights created an atmosphere that was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. The energy of the place was infectious, but your nerves were on edge. The thought that someone in this very crowd might be eyeing you as their next victim sent a shiver down your spine. You tried to keep your cool, but it wasn’t easy. The low light, the thrumming bass, and the knowledge that you were essentially bait made the situation feel far more intense.

But it wasn’t just the case that had your nerves frayed. As soon as you and Spencer stepped out of the car, you felt his big, warm hand press gently against the exposed skin of your lower back, guiding you toward the entrance. The contact was electrifying, sending a fire through your entire body. You weren’t sure if it was the nerves, the proximity, or the tension between you two, but every nerve ending felt like it was on high alert.

“Alright, Y/N, stay calm,” Spencer’s voice cut through your thoughts, his tone soothing yet firm. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke just loudly enough for you to hear over the music. “Let’s go to the bar. We can get some non-alcoholic drinks.”

You nodded, trying to focus on the task at hand. But it was hard to concentrate when his hand stayed firmly on your back, the warmth of his touch grounding you even as it sent your pulse racing. You reminded yourself that this was all part of the act, but the effect it was having on you felt far too real.

As you made your way through the crowd, the lights flashing in sync with the music, you did your best to play the role. You leaned into Spencer slightly, letting yourself appear relaxed, as if you were just another couple out for a good time. But inside, your mind was a whirlwind of anxiety and an unexpected attraction that you hadn’t anticipated.

When you reached the bar, Spencer ordered two non-alcoholic drinks, keeping his voice low and calm. He was good at this—better than you’d expected. His demeanor was confident, protective, and even though you knew it was all part of the cover, it was hard not to feel a sense of comfort from it.

As the bartender handed over your drinks, Spencer’s hand finally left your back, and you couldn’t help but miss the warmth. You took a deep breath, focusing on the mission. You needed to look natural, to draw attention without appearing out of place. It was all about selling the image.

“Here,” Spencer said, handing you your drink. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was something unspoken between you. “We’ll just hang out here for a bit, see if anyone takes notice.”

You nodded, taking a sip of your drink and trying to ignore the way your heart was still racing. The club was filled with people dancing, laughing, and flirting, and for a brief second, you almost wished you were here under different circumstances—no case, no danger, just you and Spencer, enjoying a night out.

But the reality was far from that. You were here to catch a killer.

“Baby, do you want to stand at that high top by the dance floor?” Spencer asked, his voice louder to be heard over the thumping music. The term of endearment threw you off guard, your mind momentarily blanking at the unexpected sweetness in his tone. It sounded so natural, so right, coming from him, and it sent a flutter through your chest.

You quickly recovered, trying to keep up the act. “Uh, yeah, babe—let’s go,” you replied, the word feeling a bit foreign on your tongue but surprisingly easy to say. Spencer responded by taking your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he led you toward the high-top table near the dance floor. His grip was firm, comforting, and despite the circumstances, you couldn’t help but notice how well your hands fit together.

Once you reached the table, you positioned yourselves so that you had a good view of the club. It was all about the mission—watching the crowd, spotting anyone who might be a threat—but Spencer leaned in closer, his voice low and intimate as he spoke.

“You look so beautiful tonight,” he mumbled, his words almost lost in the din of the music. “No one can keep their eyes off of you. This is going to be difficult.”

His compliment was unexpected, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if it was part of the act or something more. The way he said it, with that soft, almost shy tone, made your heart skip a beat. The intensity of his gaze, the way his eyes lingered on yours, made you wonder if there was more truth to his words than he was letting on.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you hoped the dim lighting would hide it.

He nodded, his expression serious again as he scanned the room, his hand still holding yours. “Let’s just stay close and make sure we don’t separate. If anyone approaches, we stick to the story—dating for a few months, here for a special night out. We can’t let our guard down.”

You agreed with a nod, though your thoughts kept drifting back to the way his hand felt in yours, how effortlessly he was playing the role of your boyfriend. The line between acting and reality was starting to blur, and you found yourself getting lost in the moment, despite the danger lurking somewhere in the club.

But you quickly refocused, reminding yourself of the stakes. This was about catching a killer, not exploring whatever confusing feelings you might have for Spencer. Still, as you stood there, fingers intertwined with his, it was hard to ignore the fact that pretending to be in love with him didn’t feel like much of a stretch at all.

As you stood at the high top with Spencer, you couldn’t help but notice how close the other couples around you were. Some were practically glued together, their bodies pressed intimately against one another. A few had their arms wrapped around each other, sharing whispered words and secret smiles, while one particularly bold couple was making out with such intensity that you were sure they’d forgotten they were in public. The contrast between their closeness and the polite distance you and Spencer were keeping was glaringly obvious.

You knew you had to sell the illusion more convincingly. Taking a deep breath, you dropped Spencer’s hand and moved in closer, turning so your back was pressed firmly against his chest. The move was bold, and it had the intended effect. Your ass brushed against his crotch, the contact sending a shockwave through both of you. You could feel his body tense behind you, the sudden intimacy making your pulse quicken.

“What the hell are you doing?” Spencer whispered harshly in your ear, his voice low and strained as his hands instinctively gripped your hips to keep up the charade. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, but you did your best to ignore it.

“Acting like a couple,” you murmured back, keeping your tone casual despite the rapid thudding of your heart. “Look around.”

Spencer glanced around the club, taking in the other couples who were much closer, more intimate, and clearly far more convincing as lovers than the two of you had been up until this point. He realized you were right—if you were going to catch the unsub’s attention, you needed to sell the act. Still, the sudden proximity was rattling him in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

He swallowed hard, trying to focus on the mission instead of the way your body felt pressed against his. “Okay, fine,” he muttered, his grip on your hips tightening just slightly. “But don’t go too far.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his discomfort, but you knew he was right. You needed to maintain control, but you also had to look convincing. Leaning back into him, you let your body relax against his, your movements slow and deliberate as you adjusted to the new position.

Spencer’s hands remained on your hips, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of your skirt as he tried to ignore the way your warmth seeped into him. Despite the uncertainty between you, there was an undeniable connection in the way you moved together, a rhythm that felt strangely natural.

The music thumped around you, the lights flashed in time with the beat, and as you swayed in time with the music, the line between act and reality blurred even further. It was becoming harder to remember that this was just a cover, just a mission. And from the way Spencer’s grip on your hips lingered a little too long, you wondered if he was feeling the same way.

“Reid, L/N, five o'clock, guy in a gray hoodie, looked past you. Step it up,” Hotch’s voice crackled through your earpieces, snapping you both out of the momentary haze that had settled over you. The reminder of the mission sent a cold shiver down your spine, the gravity of the situation crashing back into focus. This wasn’t just an act; this was a dangerous game with real consequences.

You blinked, forcing yourself to stay calm. The intimacy of your position was suddenly charged with a different kind of tension. You could feel Spencer tense behind you, the same realization dawning on him.

“Spencer…” you began, your voice soft, trying to keep the fear out of your tone. “Can I turn around? We can dance?”

He hesitated for the briefest moment, then nodded. “Sure,” he replied, his voice a bit strained.

You slowly turned to face him, your heart beating fast in your chest. As you did, you were met with his intense gaze, those pretty hazel eyes locking onto yours. The club lights flickered across his face, casting shadows that only seemed to make him look more striking.

“Hi,” you whispered, the word slipping out before you could stop it.

“Focus, Y/N,” Spencer gritted out, his jaw tight as he forced himself to stay on task. His hands slid back to your hips, pulling you taut against his body with a firmness that was more grounding than intimate. He wasn’t playing around anymore—he was in full profiler mode, and he needed you to be too.

You swallowed hard and nodded, pushing the swirling emotions aside. There was no room for hesitation or distraction now. You both began to sway to the beat, your bodies moving together in a way that was meant to draw attention, but also to look like a couple deeply connected.

As you danced, you could feel the tension in Spencer’s body, the way he was torn between the necessity of the mission and the undeniable pull between you. The pressure of his hands on your hips was both reassuring and unsettling, grounding you in the moment while reminding you of the line you couldn’t cross.

But even as you tried to focus on the task, the proximity, the warmth, and the intensity of his gaze made it difficult to separate the act from reality. You were dancing for a purpose, but the way your bodies moved together felt far too natural, far too easy.

The man in the gray hoodie lingered in your peripheral vision, and you knew the stakes were high. You had to sell this, had to make him believe you were just another couple in love, completely unaware of the danger lurking nearby.

“Hotch, you can see us, right?” you asked into the earpiece, trying to keep your voice steady despite the nerves gnawing at your insides.

“Of course,” Hotch’s calm voice responded. “Morgan and Prentiss are inside too, keeping an eye on everything.”

The reassurance helped, but only slightly. You knew the team had your back, but that didn’t make the situation any less intense. You glanced up at Spencer, noticing how his eyes kept darting around the room, scanning for threats.

“Okay, Spencer, look at me,” you said firmly, your voice just loud enough for him to hear over the music. “Stop looking around—you’re in love with me, remember?”

Spencer’s gaze snapped back to you, and he gave you a playful glare, clearly annoyed by the reminder but unable to argue with the logic. You didn’t give him a chance to respond before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and tangling your fingers in the back of his hair. The move brought you closer, your bodies pressing together in a way that was far too reminiscent of your last intimate encounter. You could feel the tension coil tighter between you, but you ignored it, focusing on the mission.

“Y/N…” he warned low, his voice strained, the memory of that night flashing in his eyes. The way your fingers brushed against his scalp was too familiar, too charged with unspoken emotion.

“Just doing my job,” you whispered back, your tone light but your heart pounding in your chest.

“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly not convinced but playing along nonetheless.

Before either of you could say more, Derek’s voice crackled through your earpieces. “Reid, grab lower—you look too stiff.”

Emily smothered a laugh from where she stood across the club, clearly enjoying the situation more than she probably should. But Spencer, ever the professional, did as he was told. His hands slid down your back, settling on your ass with a firm grip. The sudden, bold move sent a jolt through you, and you couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped your lips.

“Payback,” Spencer mouthed, a mischievous glint in his eye as he held your gaze, not wanting the others to hear the exchange.

You narrowed your eyes at him, biting back a smile despite yourself. He was getting into the role now, playing the part of the devoted boyfriend with a bit more enthusiasm than you expected. But there was still that undercurrent of uncertainty, that sense that the line between acting and reality was growing thinner by the second.

You took a deep breath, trying to stay focused. The man in the gray hoodie was still in the corner of your eye, and you couldn’t afford to let your guard down. But as Spencer’s hands remained on your body, his touch far more intimate than necessary, you found it increasingly difficult to keep your own emotions in check.

The moment you heard Spencer’s voice through the earpiece, directing, “Prentiss, Morgan, keep your eyes on gray hoodie,” you barely had time to register what was happening before Spencer’s lips pressed down on yours.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was intense, full of urgency and purpose, catching you completely off guard. His hands tightened on your ass, pulling you even closer. The heat of his body against yours made your head spin and you let out a whine that Spencer felt more than heard. There was nothing hesitant about the way he kissed you—his mouth moved against yours with a fierce determination, as if he was trying to communicate everything he couldn’t say out loud.

Your initial shock melted into the moment as you found yourself kissing him back just as fervently. The crowded, noisy club seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you locked in this sudden, passionate embrace. It was more than just a distraction for the unsub—it felt real, too real, like all the friction that had been building between you both had finally erupted.

Your hands fully fisted his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you let yourself get lost in the kiss and Spencer’s deep groan. There was a desperation in the way Spencer’s lips moved against yours, a need that mirrored your own, and it was impossible to tell where the act ended and the truth began.

When he finally pulled back, you were both breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. Spencer’s eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide as he looked at you, still holding you close. There was a moment of silence between you, the world seeming to stand still in the aftermath of what had just happened.

But then reality came crashing back in. The club’s pounding music, the mission, the danger—it all returned in an instant. You blinked, trying to steady yourself, reminding yourself why you were here.

“That should do it,” Spencer muttered, his voice low and rough as he glanced over your shoulder, checking for any reaction from the man in the gray hoodie.

You swallowed hard, nodding, though you couldn’t quite find the words to respond. The kiss had shaken you, and you could tell it had affected Spencer too, though he was doing his best to remain composed.

“Good job, gray hoodie is making his way over. Prepare to talk to him,” Hotch’s voice came through your earpieces, calm and commanding as always.

You barely had time to catch your breath, trying to shake off the lingering effects of Spencer’s kiss. But there was no time to dwell on it now—the mission was moving forward, and you needed to be ready.

“Nice work, pretty boy,” Derek added, his voice laced with amusement. You could practically hear the smirk in his tone, and you knew he’d have something to say about that kiss later. But for now, all you could do was roll your eyes and focus on what was coming next.

Spencer’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, a subtle reminder that he was right there with you, in more ways than one. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Remember, we’re just here to have a good time. Stay calm, and let me lead the conversation.”

You nodded, your heart still racing but your mind sharpening as you prepared to interact with the man who could very well be the unsub. You glanced up at Spencer, his eyes meeting yours with determination and something else—something unspoken, lingering just beneath the surface.

The man in the gray hoodie approached you and Spencer, his eyes scanning the area before focusing on you with a predatory gleam. Sensing his intent, you and Spencer stayed close, maintaining your cover as he made his move. As he began to get aggressive, subtly trying to lead you away from the crowd, Spencer tightened his hold on you, ready to react.

But before the situation could escalate further, Prentiss moved in quickly, her handcuffs at the ready. The moment the unsub tried to take control, she was on him, expertly restraining him before he could do any harm. The takedown was swift and decisive, with the unsub barely registering what had happened before he was secured.

“Great job, you two,” Hotch’s voice came through the earpiece, filled with genuine praise. You could almost hear the relief in his tone as he acknowledged how smoothly the operation had gone.

“Yeah, nice work, lovebirds,” Derek interjected, his playful tone impossible to miss. You could practically see the teasing grin on his face, and you knew he wouldn’t let either of you forget this night anytime soon.

“Who knew our boy genius could lay it on thick?” Emily added, a laugh in her voice. “Maybe we should send you two undercover more often.”

Rossi, who had been observing quietly from the sidelines, simply smiled knowingly. His eyes twinkled with understanding, as if he could see right through the situation, recognizing more than just a job well done. There was something in his expression that suggested he knew this was more than just a successful operation—that perhaps there was something else between you and Spencer.

As the team began wrapping up, gathering evidence and securing the unsub, you felt a strange sense of relief and uncertainty. The mission was over, but the kiss, the tension, the way Spencer had held you—it all lingered in the back of your mind.

For now, you pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the successful outcome of the case. But as you glanced at Spencer, you knew you couldn’t ignore what had happened between you two forever. There would be time to address it later, to figure out what it meant, but for now, you were content to let the night end on a high note, with the unsub in custody and your team’s playful banter filling the air.

—

The night was still, the only sounds coming from the occasional hum of the air conditioning unit in your hotel room. You lay there, unable to sleep, your mind replaying the events of the evening over and over. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop thinking about Spencer—his touch, his kiss, the way he had looked at you as if there was something more.

Then, just as you were beginning to drift off, you heard a soft knock at your door. It was so faint that you almost thought you imagined it, but then you heard it again, followed by your name whispered in a voice you knew all too well. Spencer.

You shot up in bed, your heart racing, quickly and quietly making your way over to the door. You opened it, and there he was, standing in the dim light of the hallway, his expression unreadable.

“Spencer? What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

But Spencer didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped forward, his hands reaching for your face, pulling you into a fierce, urgent kiss. The force of it took you by surprise, and you stumbled back into the room, the door shutting softly behind him.

His hands were on you, impatient and demanding, as he began to strip away your clothes, tossing them aside as he moved with purpose. You knew deep down that you should stop this, that it was dangerous to blur the lines between your professional and personal lives even further. But the need in his kiss, the desperation in his touch, made it impossible to resist.

Before you knew it, you were both undressed, and he was pushing you down onto the bed. Your thoughts were a whirlwind, but the words tumbled out before you could stop them. “Spencer?”

His response was immediate, his tone firm, almost commanding. “I really don’t want to hear you talk.”

And then you felt it—a fabric pressed against your tongue. You recognized the taste, the feel of it. Your underwear. He had stuffed them into your mouth, silencing you as he leaned over you, his eyes dark with intent.

Your body reacted to his dominance, a mix of fear and desire coursing through you as you surrendered to the moment. Whatever this was between you two, it was undeniable, unstoppable.

You nodded quickly, the realization of what was happening sinking in fast. You were ready to submit, ready to give in to Spencer completely, knowing that, in some twisted way, you owed this to him after everything that had transpired between you. The strain, the unresolved emotions, the unspoken words—all of it led to this moment, and you were helpless to resist.

You let Spencer maneuver you with ease, guiding you until your head was resting on the pillows, your body laid out beneath him. His touch was firm, deliberate, as he held your wrists above your head in one of his hands, his grip possessive yet reassuring. There was a weight to his movements, a sense of control that sent a shiver down your spine.

As he began to enter you, the sensations overwhelmed your mind. You felt the warmth of his body, the intensity of his focus, and the way his presence filled every inch of the space around you. For the night, you allowed yourself to believe in the fantasy that you were still dating Spencer, still wrapped up in that intoxicating bubble from the club where the world outside didn’t exist. It was a dangerous illusion, but one that you clung to, desperate to feel something other than the emptiness that had plagued you for so long.

You knew, deep down, that this was temporary, that you would regret it when the sun rose and the reality of your situation came crashing down. The intimacy, as fulfilling as it was in the moment, would leave you more vulnerable than ever before. But for now, you pushed those thoughts aside, letting the connection with Spencer fill the void that you had been ignoring for years.

In the quiet darkness of the hotel room, with only the sounds of your shared breaths and the gentle rustling of the sheets, you gave yourself over to the moment. The rawness, the passion, the way Spencer took control—it all felt like an escape from the complications of your real life, a brief respite where nothing mattered but the two of you.

But even as you lost yourself in the sensations, a small part of you knew that this night would leave a mark. The ache in your chest would linger long after the pleasure faded, and the distance between you and Spencer would only grow wider once the night was over. Yet, despite the inevitable pain, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. Not tonight.

—

When you woke up the next morning, the sunlight filtering through the curtains, you found yourself caught in a strange, bittersweet limbo. There was a part of you that wanted to laugh at how absurd it all was—how quickly things had escalated, how out of control it had felt. But there was also a part of you that wanted to cry, to let out the frustration and the hurt that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

You had fallen asleep in Spencer’s arms, his warmth and presence offering a comfort you hadn’t realized you craved so desperately. In those moments, nestled against him, you had felt something—an undeniable emotion, one that was both comforting and terrifying. It was a feeling you weren’t ready to admit, not even to yourself. But it had been there, undeniable and potent.

But now? Now you were alone. The space beside you in the bed was empty, the sheets cold where Spencer had been. He had left, and the realization of that hit you harder than you expected. You sat up slowly, your heart heavy with the weight of what had transpired. The room was eerily quiet, save for the distant hum of traffic outside, and it only amplified the hollowness inside you.

You glanced around, half-expecting to find some sign that he hadn’t really gone, but there was nothing. No note, no trace of him. The memories of the night clung to you, the way he had kissed you, the way he had dominated you, the way he had made you feel. But those memories were all you had left. The reality was that he was gone, and you were left to pick up the pieces of whatever this was.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you tried to make sense of your emotions. In the end, you took a deep breath and pushed the emotions down, burying them deep where they couldn’t hurt you—at least not right now. There was no time to dwell on what had happened, no time to analyze the why and the how. The team would be leaving soon, and you needed to get ready, to put on the facade of professionalism and normalcy.

—

On the jet ride back to Quantico, you had slipped seamlessly back into your professional persona. You weren’t ignoring Spencer, but you were treating him just like everyone else on the team—polite, distant, focused on the job. The mission had gone well, and the team had hoped that the tension between you and Spencer might have eased after last night. But as the hours passed and you continued to keep your interactions with him strictly business, it became clear that whatever barrier was between you wasn’t going to crumble that easily.

Once back at Quantico, you quickly packed your things at your desk, eager to get home and sleep in your own bed. Hotch had given the team the day off, and everyone had cleared out quickly, tired from the case. The bullpen was nearly empty, save for you and Penelope, who was still working in her batcave.

As you were turning to leave, your thoughts occupied with getting home, Spencer suddenly appeared in front of you, startling you.

“Spencer! Jeez, hi,” you said, your heart skipping a beat at his unexpected presence.

His expression was unreadable, his eyes hard as he looked at you. “How did it feel?” he asked, his voice low and cold.

You blinked, confused. “What?”

“To wake up alone?” he repeated, his tone sharp and biting. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” And with that, he turned on his heel and left the bullpen, leaving you standing there, stunned and reeling from his words.

For a moment, you were too shocked to move, the tears welling up in your eyes as the weight of his accusation sank in. He knew exactly how to cut you, and his words had hit their mark, reopening the wound you had tried so hard to ignore.

“Y/N…?” Penelope’s voice broke through your thoughts, gentle and concerned. She must have heard the exchange, though you hadn’t realized Spencer’s words had carried.

You turned to look at her, the tears spilling over as your emotions finally broke free. You tried to hold them back, to keep it together, but it was no use. The pain, the regret, the guilt—it all came crashing down at once.

“Can I have a hug?” you choked out, your voice trembling.

Penelope didn’t hesitate. She crossed the room in a heartbeat, wrapping you in a warm, comforting embrace. Her arms were strong and steady, grounding you as you let the tears flow. She didn’t ask any questions, didn’t push you to explain. She just held you, letting you cry in the safety of her embrace.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Penelope murmured, rubbing your back soothingly. “You’re not alone. I’m here.”

You clung to her, grateful for the comfort she offered, even as the ache in your chest remained. Spencer’s words still echoed in your mind, a painful reminder of the distance that had grown between you. But for now, in Penelope’s arms, you allowed yourself to grieve—to grieve the connection that had been lost, the pain that had been caused, and the uncertainty of what the future held.

—

The next workday at the Bureau felt oddly normal—too normal. Spencer walked in with a knot in his stomach, dreading what he might face after his outburst the previous day. He knew what he had done was wrong, petty, and incredibly immature. But in the moment, the release had felt good. It had felt like a small, bitter victory, even if it was at your expense.

But as he walked through the bullpen, he couldn’t shake the unease. He hadn’t seen you yet, and the thought of running into you now, after everything, made his chest tighten. He hesitated as he passed the liaison office, taking a deep breath before stealing a glance inside. To his surprise, instead of seeing you, he spotted a familiar blonde head bent over a file.

“JJ?” he said, his voice filled with confusion as he stepped into the doorway.

She looked up with a bright smile, her blue eyes warm and welcoming. “Hey, Spence!”

Spencer blinked, still trying to process what he was seeing. “I thought you were on maternity leave for another month?”

JJ laughed softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was, but I just had to come back. I was going stir-crazy at home. You know me—I can’t stay away for long.”

“That’s—well, that’s great,” Spencer stammered, caught off guard by her unexpected return. “It’s really good to have you back.”

JJ’s smile softened as she looked at him. “Thanks, Spence. I missed you guys. But don’t worry—I’m not back full-time just yet. I’m just easing back into things.”

Spencer nodded, still trying to wrap his head around the sudden change. “Well, it’s good to see you. We missed you too.”

As they exchanged a few more pleasantries, Spencer’s thoughts kept drifting back to you. If JJ was here, it meant you were probably somewhere else in the building, avoiding the BAU office. The realization filled him with a mix of relief and guilt. He knew he should apologize, should try to make things right, but he wasn’t sure where to begin.

For now, though, he focused on the small comfort of having JJ back. It was a welcome distraction, even if it didn’t erase the tension that still lingered between you and him.

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tag list <333 @spencerreidsreads @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @reggieswriter @loumouse @mentallyunwellsposts @time-himself @chaneladdicted @kathrynlakestone @furrybouquettrash @hearts4spensco @gilwm @khxna @charismatic-writer @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @noelliece @dreamsarebig

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clarkpip22 · 6 months ago

Text

𖥻.•𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ✴︎.

***********************************************

A/N- this is my first time writing smut so sorry if this isn't good but I hope you'll enjoy<3

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↪loves eating you out

- she will devour your pussy like it is a full-course meal.

- makes you squirt all over her face

- and she won't stop unless you tell her to

- "You taste so good, mama~"

- Emily's eyes always look so heavy when she's eating you out, sometimes she closes her eyes while moaning into them. Enjoying every inch of your cunt

↪strap game is insane!

- treats your pussy like it's a toy when she's fucking you

- she may talk to you nicely but there is nothing nice about the way she pounds you into the bed

- sometimes she gets carried away because she is so focused on making you feel good

↪ Speaking of talking to you nice. THE PRAIS! THE DIRTY TALK!

- her mouth is dirty <3

- anytime you are doing good for her, she showers you with compliments.

- calls you her good girl <3

- some of her favorite phrases♥︎

- "Yes baby, you're doing so well for me"

- "Please make that pretty cunt squirt for me baby"

- "Ride me mama~"

- "I love your pussy so much"

- even outside of the bedroom she's praising you

- there have been times were she will whisper dirty things to you out in public

- "I can't wait to take you home and shove my face between your legs"

↪Emily struggles to keep her hands to herself

- she is in love with you and her favorite way to show you is through touch but it always leads to more than just innocent touches

- Emily's hands 🤝 your thighs

- she also loves grabbing your neck

- Em will hold you by the neck when she wants you to look at her

↪loves ass

- she spanks you a lot for fun

- Anytime she walks past you or you bend down, all you feel is a big, strong, muscular hand land on your ass

- "Ow Emily! That hurts!"

- "Hush baby, I didn't hit you that hard"

↪Emily is into punishments

- if you are giving her attitude or act like a brat, she will embarrass you

- her favorite way to punish you is by making act like cat or dog

- she'll strip you down and put a dog or cat buttplug in you and makes you crawl on all four

- Emily has you crawl up on her lap and sit while she plays with your cunt

- fingers the life out of you

- "Don't try to run away from me baby, you wanted to act like a brat so imma treating you like a brat."

- spanks you hard if you complain

- if you take your punishment well, Emily will eat you out all night long

- if you don't then she'll pound your cunt for hours, making you cum over and over again until you apologize like a good girl<3

↪ And finally... the aftercare

- she makes sure you are nice and cleaned up

- kisses you on the cheek telling you how good you are and how proud she is of you

- Emily is usually very soft after sex, stroking your body and cuddling on

- feeds you snacks and makes sure you are well hydrated.

- "You did so well for me baby, I love you~"

- "I love you too, em"

You guys are so cute 😩<3

#emily engstler smut #emily engstler x reader #wnba #wnba basketball #washington mystics #emily engstler

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crazyk-imagine · 8 months ago

Note

Hi, I was thinking Jacob Black x Reader. Where Jacob was waiting for Reader to come out of school till he heard commotion in front of the school and saw Reader fighting a bully who is a guy. She has a bruised lip and bleeding nose. Jacob hurriedly pick up Reader and take her to Emily’s so she can chill out and so Emily can patch her up. The pack saw her and they started asking questions till Emily started lecturing her.

Jealousy and Pack Scolding's

Pairing: Jacob Black x Uley!reader

Characters: Jacob Black, Uley!reader, Paul Lahote, Jared Cameron, Embry Call, Leah Clearwater, Seth Clearwater, Quil Ateara V, Brady Fuller, Collin Littlesea

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Paul being an idiot, Sam not liking the imprinting, this was actually kind of cute, I think I made Jake a likable character (for me), Emily is an angel, Sam and Emily are my fav, reader has avoided making eye contact with Jake bc she has a crush, Sam knows whats up, Embry just wants his imprint, Paul is such a big brother here, love writing for the wolfpack, it's so much fun, reader knows about imprints

Word Count: 2,431

A/N: Ask and you shall receive... this was fun and totally not inspired by Jake fics where he's a little jealous shit

I've aged probably everyone sooo, Sam is 26, Emily is 25. Leah is 23. Jared and Paul are 19 (in a nearby community college) and just one semester from graduating. Jake, Reader and Embry are 18. Quil, Seth, Brody are 17. Cam and Seth are 16

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He kicks his bike stand up, so it stays upright while he waits for you to exit the school. He crosses his arms, not wanting anyone to talk to him, hoping he looks “menacing” enough for his classmates to get the hint and steer clear of him.

He knows Quil and Embry made their way back to Emily's since Sam wants them to do their patrol shift as soon as they can once they finished with their last class.

He couldn't complain much considering he was able to go home and change before heading back to pick you up so he could successfully switch shifts with Embry, which annoys him since Sam basically ordered him to pick you up.

He’d be more okay with it if you two were friends- or even talking; he doesn’t know why he was put to the job since you two aren’t close- or at least, compared to Jared and Paul.

Jake did recently find out (after complaining to the guys when their alpha wasn’t around) you’re Sam's niece and Emily has taken a light to you, thinking of you as her own daughter.

And the only reason he thinks that is because of how she treats you; it always reminds him of the way his mom took care of him and his sisters when they were younger.

Don't get him wrong, he has no problem with that or the way she treats you, he's more curious than anything since you haven't been talking to him.

It kind of bugs him that you talk to Paul and Jared more than him and isn't sure why. He gets the two shifted before everyone, but you've started talking to Embry and Quil so why not him too? Hell, you’ve even started making small talk with the newest shifters Brady and Collin.

He thinks this is why Sam sent him here, so he'll stop moping around about you and not just because the pack is tired of hearing how sad he is with you not talking to him.

The chanting, "fight, fight, fight," overtakes his sense in waiting for you and he steps closer.

He stops behind the wall of people, checking on who's fighting, curious as to who's stupid enough to fight on school property.

The fist flies to your face and he starts fighting his way to get past the people blocking him from getting to you.

You spit, not wanting the copper taste to remain in your mouth. You turn your head back to David, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of feeling like he won.

You kick his upper thigh, right above his knee and knock him down before pulling your arm back and drive your fist as hard as you can into his cheek.

He falls and cups his cheek, whining about the pain and the fact that he's bleeding.

"Talk about my family again and you'll be bleeding more."

Jacob finally breaks through the crowd and pushes David's friend away before the guy could grab you. "Back off," he growls.

The friend raises his hands in defense and backs away, noticing how buff he'd gotten and knows better to not fight Jacob.

He turns to you, smelling blood on you and cups your face, searching to find the damage, ignoring your eyes as the blood from your lip drips further down your chin. "Come on."

He puts you on the back of his bike and starts it before kicking the kickstand.

You unwrap your arms and get off the bike, trying to put distance between you, Jacob, and your home.

He grabs your wrist, "where do you think you're going?"

"Away."

"Just because you want to hide your face from Emily and Sam, doesn't mean you can run away."

"I can still try." You tug on his arm. "Let me go."

"No, you need to go in there and face them."

You stop fighting and he lets go of you, trusting that you won't leave. "I don't want Sam to be disappointed."

"Did you pick a fight with David on purpose?"

You shake your head, "of course not."

"Then he won't be disappointed... as long as you talk to him."

"Says the guy who fights him every chance he gets."

That earns a chuckle from Jake. "Says the mousy niece."

You scoff, shoving his arm. "Hey, I'm not mousy."

"This is the longest conversation we've ever had."

"That's your fault, you're always mopey."

"I am not."

"Are so."

"Am"- You walk through the door.

Emily's voice interrupts yours and everyone else's conversations. "I'm happy to see the two of you are talking." She smiles with a twinkle shining in her eye that quickly dies as soon as she catches sight of your face.

"Oh my- what the hell happened to you?" She grabs your chin, tilting so she can look at your face. "Who did this?"

Paul tenses, Jared tries to see over her shoulder.

Embry and Quil walk through the back door and glance at one another with concern evident on their faces once they realize what’s happened.

"Don't tell, Sam," you reply, staring into her eyes, practically begging her not to tell him.

"Don't tell me what?"

You grimace and then wince because your adrenaline has worn off and the pain has surfaced. "How much I love you?" You say without turning.

"I don't buy it." He wraps an arm around Emily, pecking her cheek. "Did you cut your finger again?" He asks with the scent of blood wafting through the room.

"Uh-" She catches your eye as she glances down at her hands. "Maybe, I don't know."

You attempt to sneak away while he's distracted and fail.

"Turn around."

You pout, keeping your head low as you turn.

"Lift your head."

"I like staring at my shoes while they're clean."

He grumbles your name under his breath.

You lift your head and sigh. "I may have gotten into an altercation at school."

"What the hell happened?"

"That's what I was asking before you got here?" Emily chimes in. "And I was avoiding it then."

"What did you do?"

You scoff, "I didn't do anything, you dick."

"That is no way to talk to your uncle," she tells you.

You stare at her, "I'm going to give him the same respect he gives me," and turn to him. "Which is none."

You exit the room when you realize none of you are going to be able to have a proper conversation and make your way to your room, slamming the door behind you.

"What happened while you were waiting for her?" Sam towers over Jacob, attempting to search through his mind to figure out what could have happened.

"I don't- I don't know. I was waiting and then I heard the other kids chanting, fight and then I saw her get hit and then take down David-"

"Wait- she was fighting David?" Jared chimes in with a smile.

"He deserves it," Paul adds.

"Guys a grade A asshole," Embry says before snacking on a muffin.

"So, this fight was valid?" Sam asks, wanting to understand everything he's learned within the last five minutes.

"No, it wasn't valid because fighting isn't the solution, is it boys?" Emily turns to the boys at the table.

"No," everyone answers.

"Good," she smiles.

"But this hasn't happened before? What's happened? This David- or whoever clearly said something for her to act out."

"He was talking about my family," you tell them, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed.

"That doesn't give you enough reason to fight," she tells you.

"It does when they start making fun of your dead parents and uncle who's running a cult."

They purse their lips.

"How do you feel?"

You shrug, "my fist and face are aching, so I'd say I did something right."

She sighs. "Fighting isn't the answer."

"I know that!"

"Then why did you do it?"

Your emotions cause you to snap. "I was tired of him thinking he could still bully me!"

She takes a few steps closer to you. "This has been going on for a while now. Why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't want either of you to walk into the principal's office thinking you could stop it when it'd only make things worse," you grumble.

"We could have found another way to stop him from making comments."

"I took care of it the only way I could."

"There's always more than one way-"

"I know," you run your fingers through your hair in a frustrated manner. "I wasn't thinking but he wouldn't shut up. He waited a few months, giving me a grievance period but then he started talking shit again and today he wouldn't leave me alone."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Jared asks.

"Yeah," you scoff, "because I wanted you guys to help when the hothead is one fight away from being expelled. Everyone still thinks those two," you point to Embry and Quil. "Are weird because they suddenly got buff and had a haircut. Don't even mention the fact that Jake along with Brody and Cam are the new talk of the pack."

Sam sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "Just, go clean the blood off as best you can, and Emily will wrap your wounds."

"I already did."

"Then go get the first aid kit and bring it in here."

You walk back into the bathroom throwing everything you’d laid out on the counter back into the bag and aim for the kitchen. "Heal me with your magical powers, Em."

She smiles and wraps an arm around your shoulders as she guides you to the island so she can use the natural light to check over you. "Does this hurt?"

"Not yet."

"Okay, let me know when it-"

You suck in a deep breath through your teeth.

"Hurts. You okay?"

"Peachy, Em."

"I know you had to defend yourself today, but fighting isn't always the answer."

"Yeah, I know," you reply with an attitude.

"I'm just reminding you, so you don't continue hurting yourself. You're not like the others, and I don't like seeing you get hurt."

"Thanks, Emily," you wrap your arms around her and pull her in for a long hug.

She smiles, returning the hug. "Don't go getting into fights again or else I'm going to bubble wrap you."

You chuckle. "As long as you save me from a Sam lecture."

"Deal." She slides the plate with muffins, closer to you. "Eat something first."

The guys shake their heads at your behavior.

"Does this mean I can hang out with you guys?"

"You hang out with us already," Jacob points out.

"Cliff diving." You unwrap your muffin.

"Absolutely not," your uncle tells you.

"Come on."

"No,” Sam shakes his head.

"Guys," you beg, turning around to look at the others.

"We're not getting involved in that," Paul raises his hands, heading towards the couch.

- Extra -

"Wha-"

"I'm with Paul," Embry tells you, pulling Quil with him as they sit beside Jared.

You turn to face your knight in shining armor. “Jake-”

He turns away from the others and glances back at you, the humor falling from his face.

“Oh, shit,” Jared mutters.

“Are you serious?” Embry whines.

You owlishly blink trying to figure out what’s happened when he falls to his knees. You set your muffin down and push yourself off the stool to stand in front of him. You poke his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“It’s you,” he mutters.

You raise your head and face the others with a scared and confused expression. “Guys, what the hell just happened?”

Paul smirks and looks away.

Jared buries his face with a muffin.

Embry and Quil face the tv, not wanting to see how things plays out.

Brady and Collin walk through the door.

“Holy shit,” the former says.

“Congrats, Jake. You finally got your imprint,” the latter adds.

“What?” You spin around to face Emily. “Imprint? That’s what just happened?”

Sam rubs a hand over his face. This was the last thing they needed.

“Did we- did you not know?” Brady asks you.

“Does this look like the face of someone who’s in the know? Does it. Brady?”

Collin pulls his buddy away before you can rip their heads off.

“I think we need to talk,” Sam says, pulling Jacob off the ground. “Outside.”

You three stand on the porch, trying to wrap your heads around the whole situation.

“I don’t know what this means,” you tell them.

“This means, no being alone in your room. No sneaking out after curfew. No-”

“Sam, we’re not dating. This doesn’t apply to us.”

“It could,” he says, finally snapping out of his mind.

“What?”

“It- the imprint bond doesn’t happen by accident, it’s the joining of when two soulmates find each other.”

“So, we’re soulmates?”

He nods.

“I thought you were in love with Bella?”

“I was.”

“And now you’re not? You couldn’t have moved on that fast just because of this bond.”

He sighs, “I know this is going to be a lot of work, but I want to get to know you whether we go out or not… even though dating you-”

The clearing of someone’s throat cuts him off.

He sheepishly smiles, rubbing the back of his head. “We’ll talk more later.”

You can’t help but giggle and wince soon after.

He’s kneeling in front of you in seconds, searching for any sign of pain. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. My lip is going to be the kill joy of my existence for a few days but I’m fine.” You place a hand on his shoulder, “thanks for pulling me out of there when you did.”

He shakes his head, “it was nothing.”

“It was more than you know, and I know you were only there because Uncle Sam made you, but I still wanted to thank you.”

He can’t help the wide smile that stretches across his lips. “I’ll always be there for you.”

Sam throws you over his shoulder. “Babe, where’s the extra wood I keep for the winter?”

“Back room, why?” She asks, watching as you beat on his back.

“I’m locking some doors.”

“Sam, no!” You screech. “Boys, help me.”

“He’s the alpha, what he says go,” Paul tells you.

“You suck, Lahote.”

“You’re gonna be swallowing, princess.”

Paul has never shifted and ran out of his alpha’s place as quickly as he did today.

The others lose their minds as he runs all around, nearly bumping into the clearwater siblings as they head towards the place.

Tag list (if you'd like to be added or removed, don't hesitate to ask)

@kmc1989 @gilbertgirl13

#twilight #twilight wolfpack #twilight fanfiction #twilight fic #twilight fanfic #twilight x reader #jacob black #jacob black x reader #jacob black x you #jacob black imagine #jacob black imagines #jacob black fanfiction #jacob black fanfic #jacob black x uley!reader #jacob black x fem reader #jacob black x fem!reader #jacob black x female reader #jacob black x female!reader #twilight x you

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rynwritesreid · 1 year ago

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You’re on your own| Spencer Reid

Summary: After releasing Spencer will never love you back, you take some time of work to work on your mental health. However, an unsub the team have been working to find, finds you first.

Content: Fem!reader. Threats against life. Mention of weapons. Mention of blood. It’s full of angst (I guess some fluff but not much). This is a bit darker than anything else I’ve written before, but I really enjoyed writing this one. So, I hope you enjoy

A/N: I have written another fic like this called-shattered reflections. If you enjoy this one, you might like that one.

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

4.3k words

You had been in love with Spencer from the moment you had laid your eyes on him, but he most definitely didn’t feel the same way. He had been on dates or fallen in love with serval women while you had known him, and you had just come to terms that you two would never happen, so you just started looking elsewhere.

At work you barely interacted with him anymore. You two weren’t the greatest friends to start off with, but now you only talked to him when necessary. Everyone, but him, had noticed. Luke asked if you two had had an argument or something, but you just shrugged him off. Emily and JJ asked if everything was alright, which you would always say “yes, I don’t know why you don’t think everything if alright.”

You were only ignoring him to get over your crush, but you were always seemingly pushing away all of your friends in the process. Emily, JJ, Tara, Luke, and Penelope now never mentioned Spencer around you. They all knew something was going on, but didn’t want to ask, and all you really wanted to do was rant how he never seemed to realise you were right there in front of him.

After one practically gruelling case you didn’t speak a word to any of your friends/team while on the flight back, or while in the Quantico. Once you were in the safety of your apartment you burst into tears, wondering if you were ever going to be good enough for anyone. JJ text you asking if you were okay as you seemed abnormally quiet. You didn’t reply. You didn’t want to push anyone away, but this is what you did when you were down.

You ignored everyone for the days you had off, putting dnd on your phone. You barely left your apartment and would order food, so you didn’t have to grocery shopping. What you didn’t expect to happen was for Spencer to message you.

“Hey, I was wondering if I’ve done something wrong. You haven’t talked to me for a while. You haven’t really talked to anyone. But if I have done something wrong, please tell me.”

You wondered if someone had asked him to text you, but you didn’t reply. You just read of the message. He didn’t send another one. But everyone else was constantly checking in on you. You felt bad, but you just didn’t have the energy to reply to them.

Once you had returned to work, you said sorry to everyone (but Spencer) for ignoring them and just explained the case hit you hard. Spencer kept looking at you, half expecting you to apologise to him, but you simply just ignored him. He asked everyone why you were doing this, but they all told him they didn’t have a clue.

When everyone else had gone to get some lunch, Spencer came up to you.

“Hey, are you okay? You have ignored me all day, you didn’t reply to my message. You haven’t even looked in my direction. What have I done?” He seemed defeated. His voice, while it wasn’t filled with pain and sadness, wasn’t exactly a happy voice.

“Spencer, you haven’t done anything. I just want to be alone. Please, go back to your desk.” It was a short reply, you didn’t look up at him, or acknowledge his presence.

He left, and he didn’t say anything to you. He ignored you, like you ignored him. Everyone was worried, wondering what had happened. Questioning if everything was okay, but like always, you shrugged them off.

You hated how you felt, and how you were treating everyone else. Emily suggested, because of your recent behaviour, you take some time off. She wasn’t forcing you too, but both you and her knew it would be for the best. You reluctantly agreed. You did feel like a burden to everyone around you, you felt like you were pulling them down with, which you knew was unfair.

As you left the BAU, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything going on around you. You knew deep down that you couldn't keep going on like this. You needed to sort out your feelings and deal with your emotions before you could come back and face everyone again.

The first few days of your break were difficult. You couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt that was hanging over you like a dark cloud. You spent most of your days in bed, scrolling through social media, and thinking about all the missed opportunities you had with Spencer. You even considered reaching out to him to apologize, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. It was like your pride was holding you back, and you didn't know how to let go of it.

You knew you needed to go outside at one point, even if it was just for a little walk. As you stepped out of your apartment building, the sun hit your face, and you closed your eyes for a moment, soaking in the warmth. You took a deep breath and started walking towards the shops. You could hear the birds chirping, and it was as if the world had come alive. You felt a sense of peace wash over you, and you realized that maybe taking a break was exactly what you needed.

After you had picked up some groceries, you walked to one of your favourite parks. You sat on a bench and decided to people watch and make up little stories about the people walking by. You watched people chase after their dogs, and friends share jokes and laughs. It felt tranquil, a moment of bliss in a world full of chaos. You hadn’t replied to anyone, but I think everyone was expecting that.

You walked back to your apartment, the peace you once felt had gone. You had a feeling of dreed, like something awful was about to happen to you. You looked around, making sure no one was following you or watching you from a far. You didn’t notice anyone, but you couldn’t put your feelings aside.

Just as you were about to reach your apartment, you heard footsteps behind you. You quickly turned around, but no one was there. You shrugged it off, thinking it was just your imagination playing tricks on you. However, a few minutes later, you heard the footsteps again. This time, they were louder and more distinct. Your heart started racing as you began to feel a sense of panic. You picked up your pace, trying to get to your apartment building as quickly as possible.

You had reached the safety of your apartment, making sure you had locked the door. You turned on the TV, just to make your apartment less quiet and so that your mind couldn’t wonder. As you sat on your couch, you couldn't shake off the feeling that someone was watching you. You tried to convince yourself that it was just your imagination, but the more you tried to ignore it, the stronger the feeling became. You stood up and walked towards the door, peering through the peephole, but you couldn't see anyone outside.

Just as you were about to turn away from the door, you saw a figure in the corner of your eye. You quickly turned back to the peephole, but the figure was gone. You backed away from the door, heart racing and palms sweating.

You decided to call Emily, hoping that she would answer and calm you down. She picked up after a few rings, and you could tell from her voice that she was worried.

“Are you okay? What’s going on?” Emily asked.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. “I don’t know, Emily. I just have this feeling that someone is watching me. I went to the park near where I live, and when I started walking back home, I got this sudden feeling that someone was following me. I don’t want to seem paranoid, but I just can’t shake this feeling.”

“Okay. Do you want me to come over?”

“No, I don’t think so. I just wanted to tell someone. I kind of wanted you to tell me I sounded stupid and that of course you feel like this, you work to catch bad people all the time, these feelings are normal.”

Emily was quiet for a moment before speaking in a calm and reassuring voice. "It's okay to feel scared sometimes. It doesn't make you stupid. And you're right, we catch bad people for a living, so it's normal to feel like this. But if you want, I can come over and we can talk about it more."

You felt relieved that Emily didn’t think you were stupid, but you didn’t want to be a burden to her. “No, Em. It’s fine. I’ll text you later.”

“Okay. But if you keep feeling like this, call me again and I’ll come straight over.” Emily hung up after saying that.

You turned back on your TV and make some food. Though the feeling persisted, you didn’t call Emily again, you really didn’t want to course any problems for her or be a burden.

As the night progressed, the feeling of being watched only grew stronger. You tried to shake it off and distract yourself with TV shows and books, but nothing seemed to help. You couldn't dismiss the nagging sensation of being followed or watched.

You decided to take matters into your own hands and investigate. It was a risky move, but you couldn't just sit around waiting for something to happen. You quickly grabbed your coat and left your apartment, determined to find out who or what was causing these feelings of dread.

As you walked down the dimly lit street, you kept looking over your shoulder, trying to spot anyone suspicious. You tried to act casual, but you couldn't shake off the feeling that you were being followed. You quickened your pace, hoping to reach the end of the street before anything could happen.

Just as you turned the corner, you saw a shadowy figure standing in the middle of the road. Your heart skipped a beat, and you froze in place. The figure started moving towards you, and you could hear its heavy breathing.

You tried to run, but your legs felt like they were made of lead. The figure was getting closer and closer, and you could feel it’s hot breath on your neck. You turned around to face your attacker, but before you could even get a good look at them, they grabbed you and pulled you into an alleyway. You tried to scream, but their hand was firmly over your mouth, muffling any sound.

You struggled against your attacker, but their grip was too strong. You could feel their body pressing against yours, and you knew that you were in danger.

You closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down and think of a way out of the situation. As you opened your eyes, you saw the glint of a knife in the attacker's hand. You knew then that you were in grave danger and started to panic.

The attacker pushed you up against the wall, the knife now pressed against your throat. You could feel the cold metal against your skin, and you shuddered in fear.

“Don't. Move.” The attacker's voice was low and menacing, and you knew that they weren't going to let you go without a fight.

You tried to reason with them, to plead for your life. “Please...let me go...I won't tell anyone...”

The attacker chuckled darkly, and you knew that your words had fallen on deaf ears. They leaned in closer, their breath hot against your face. “Oh, I know you won't tell anyone. Even if you did, they wouldn’t care. You’ve pushed them all away, and now they don’t care about you.”

Your heart sank at the attacker's words. They were right - you had been pushing people away, isolating yourself from those who cared about you. But you didn't deserve to die for it. You mustered up all of your courage and looked the attacker straight in the eye.

"Please, I don't want to die," you said, your voice trembling. "I'll do anything. Just let me go."

“Anything, huh? God, hearing, an FBI agent beg for their life isn’t something I thought I’d ever hear. But here is what is going to happen. You’re going to come with me, not making a sound, and you are going to help me out. Okay?”

The attacker loosened their grip on you, and you took the opportunity to nod your head in agreement. You didn't know what they wanted from you, but you knew that you had to do whatever it took to stay alive. You were an FBI agent; you were trained for these situations. You knew how to fight, but right now you were a victim, one who hadn’t be specially trained, one who didn’t know how to handle these types of situations and one who, apparently, had no friends left who would help them out or who cared about them.

The attacker led you deeper into the alleyway, their grip firm on your arm. You tried to think of a way out of this, but your mind was blank. You were scared, and you didn't know what was going to happen to you.

As you walked, you noticed that the walls of the alleyway were covered in graffiti. You saw a message scrawled on the wall in bright red paint and gasped. It was a message from the notorious serial killer, the one that you had been tracking for months. This couldn't be a coincidence.

You turned to the attacker, your heart racing. "Are you working for him? Are you his accomplice?"

The attacker smirked. "Why don't you come with me and find out?"

You had a feeling that this wasn't going to end well, but you knew that you had to keep your wits about you if you were going to get out of this alive.

You followed the attacker through the alleyway, your mind racing as you tried to come up with a plan. You didn't know who this person was or what they wanted, but you knew that you had to stay alert and focused if you were going to make it out of this alive.

The attacker led you to a rundown building on the outskirts of town. They pushed you inside and closed the door behind you. You found yourself in a dimly lit room, the walls covered in damp and mould.

The attacker sat down on a chair in the corner of the room, watching you with a cold and calculated gaze. You could feel their eyes on you, and you knew that you were in danger.

"What do you want from me?" you asked, your voice shaking.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you to murder anyone. I want you to be a warning to the rest of your team, not to come looking for me. They’ve been working on my case while you’ve been away, and I don’t want them too anymore. So, you, are going to be warning.”

You felt a chill run down your spine at the attacker's words. They wanted to use you as a warning to your own team. It was a sick and twisted plan, and you knew that you couldn't let it happen.

"I won't be a part of this," you said firmly. "I won't let you use me as a pawn in your twisted game."

The attacker laughed, standing up from their chair and walking towards you. "Oh, but you don't have a choice, do you? You either do what I say, or you die. It's that simple."

You stood your ground, staring the attacker straight in the eye. "I'd rather die than become a part of your sick game."

The attacker shrugged. "Suit yourself." They pulled out the knife and lunged towards you. He stabbed you, just above your heart. You felt you self-losing hope, even if this one wasn’t fatal, you knew he wouldn’t stop till you were dead. You felt yourself slump to the floor, you knew it wasn’t going to be long till you lost consciousness, you had no fight left in you.

As you lay there dying, you thought about all the people you had pushed away. You regretted not reaching out to them, not telling them how much you loved them. You wished you had spent more time with them, made more memories.

But it was too late for that now. You closed your eyes, accepting your fate. You wished that you had told Spencer how you felt, and you couldn’t believe that was going to be one of your last thoughts. You heard the man walk away. You felt so weak, you had nothing last. You just gave up, knowing that no one now would really care that you had gone.

Emily had grown worried. You hadn’t texted or called her back. She thought you would have by now. She decided to go to your apartment to check on you. As she walked up to your door, she could hear your phone ringing through the door. She knocked, but there was no answer. Worried, she used her spare key to let herself in.

As she walked into your living room, she saw your phone lying on the coffee table. It was Spencer calling, and Emily knew that something was wrong. She called your name, but no reply. She searched your entire apartment looking for you, but you were nowhere. She called JJ to see if she had heard from you, but the last she heard anything from you was when you were last in the office. Everyone else had the same answer when she called them.

She asked the team to come over, to see if they could spot anything she couldn’t. Everyone was worried about you. As the team arrived, they saw Emily pacing around the living room, phone in hand. She quickly filled them in on her worries and the fact that you were missing. She explained how you had called her earlier saying that you thought someone was watching you, and that you would call her if anything happened.

Spencer was the one to look in your bedroom, as he was searching, he kept thinking how he thought this was somehow his fault. He saw the pictures you had around your room of you and your old college friends, or family pets. But there was no evidence in there of anything. JJ had suggested that you had gone somewhere, but Emily said you wouldn’t go anywhere with your phone. Rossi tried to suggest that maybe you left your phone so that they wouldn’t be able to trace you, but Emily said that was stupid considering that call she had received earlier. Luke and Tara just kept pacing around your apartment, looking for anything, but they found nothing.

As the team continued to search your apartment, the sound of Emily's phone ringing filled the silence. She answered it quickly, hoping that it would be you on the other end of the line.

"Hello?" Emily said, her voice shaking slightly.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and then a voice spoke. It was distorted, and Emily couldn't make out what it was saying.

"Who is this?" Emily demanded, her heart racing.

The voice spoke again, and this time Emily could hear it more clearly. "You'll find your friend in an alleyway on the outskirts of town," the voice said. "But you better hurry. She doesn't have much time left."

Emily's heart sank as she hung up the phone. The team looked at her, fear etched on their faces.

"We have to go find her," JJ said, her voice determined.

The team rushed out of your apartment and into the streets, determined to find you before it was too late. They piled into their cars and sped towards the location that the voice had mentioned.

As they arrived at the alleyway, they saw a figure lying motionless on the ground. They rushed towards you, praying that it wasn't too late. As they got closer, they saw the blood seeping out of your body and onto the pavement. They knew that they didn't have much time.

Spencer checked for a pulse, and thankfully, there was one. They had to act quickly to save you. Rossi called for an ambulance, while JJ and Tara tried to stop the bleeding. Emily sat by your side, holding your hand tightly and praying that you would make it.

As the ambulance arrived, the team helped load you onto the gurney. Emily rode with you to the hospital, holding your hand the entire way. She couldn't bear the thought of losing you. She thought about all the times you had laughed together, shared secrets and dreams. She couldn't imagine a world without you in it.

As the doctors rushed you into surgery, the team waited anxiously in the waiting room. They didn't know if you would make it or not, but they knew they had to have faith. They sat together, silent, and scared, waiting for any news.

No one could bear the thought of losing you, you were always there for them. Not long ago you would have answered their calls and listened to them rant about everything and anything. Spencer, though, felt the worst out of all of them. He was good at his job, he had known for some time that you had feelings for him, and it wasn’t like he didn’t have any for you, but he didn’t want to lose someone else he loved. He silently cried, hoping you would make it.

As the hours ticked by, the team was filled with anxiety and worry. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the surgeon emerged from the operating room.

"Is she okay?" Emily asked, her voice trembling.

The surgeon sighed. "She's stable, but it was touch and go for a while. We managed to stop the bleeding, but the knife wound was deep. She's still in critical condition, but we're hopeful that she'll make a full recovery."

The team breathed a collective sigh of relief. They knew that you still had a long road ahead of you, but at least you were alive. They thanked the surgeon and waited patiently for you to be brought to a room.

As they sat by your bedside, they could see the machines monitoring your vitals. They could hear the steady beeping of the heart monitor, and they knew that it was a good sign. Emily held your hand tightly, tears streaming down her face.

Spencer watched from the corner of the room, his heart heavy with guilt and regret. He wished he had told you how he felt sooner before it was almost too late. He wished he had been the one to protect you from harm, instead of the one who inadvertently caused it. He knew he had a lot to make up for if you were to recover.

In the days that followed, the team took turns staying by your side, never leaving you alone for a moment. They brought you flowers, cards, and small gifts, hoping to bring some comfort during your recovery. Spencer was always there, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement. He was determined to make things right with you, to show you how much he cared.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you opened your eyes. You saw the team surrounding you, and Spencer's face filled with relief. You tried to speak, but your throat felt dry and sore. Emily handed you some water.

As you took a sip of water, you looked around the room and saw the worried faces of your team. You knew that something bad had happened, but you couldn't remember what it was. You tried to speak again, but your throat was still too sore.

Emily leaned in closer to you. "You were attacked," she said softly. "But you're going to be okay."

As the memories flooded back, you felt a wave of fear wash over you. You remembered the pain of being stabbed and the feeling of helplessness as you lay bleeding on the ground. But as you looked around the room, you saw the love and support of your friends, and you knew that you weren't alone.

Spencer leaned in close to you. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I should have protected you."

You shook your head weakly. "It wasn't your fault," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

But Spencer wouldn’t hear it. “But you took time off because of me, and don’t pretend you didn’t. If, if I had said anything to you, then you wouldn’t have done that and you wouldn’t be laying in this hospital bed.”

“Spencer, please don’t blame yourself. None of this is your fault, and you didn’t need to say anything to me. Sometimes the person you love doesn’t love you back and that’s okay. But the man who did this got into my head and told me I was on my own, and that you guys didn’t care about, and that I pushed you all away. I’m so sorry for how I treated you.”

Spencer squeezed your hand. "You have nothing to apologize for. We're just glad you're okay."

You smiled weakly at him, grateful for his kind words. You knew that it would take time to heal both physically and emotionally, but you also knew that you had the support of your friends.

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#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction

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melancholicstation · 18 days ago

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GOD BLESS AMERICA AND ALL THE BEAUTIFUL WOMEN IN IT —HUSBAND!JACK SCHLOSSBERG COMFORT HEADCANONS 𓍼 𓇢𓆸

jack schlossberg fan fiction is for the lovers

WIFE!READER returns and is the orion carloto archetype, who balances modelling and writing, and i imagine her making tiktoks in the same vain of alanabananaxox (she's been my no.1 tiktoker since 2021) and sotce on tiktok.

taglist: @obsessedwithjohnjr @candyneckl6ce @rocker-chick-7 @ultr4v1ol3nt @violetharmonsfavgf @strip-weather-forecast @darcyspirits @fortheloveofjos @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @h-l-vlovesvintage @bluelancergirl @snowsgames @salvatoresablondie @dulcegal @kennedyism @bloxholden35 @kimcrystal123 @absurdlyvintage @jackiesgirl @chemicalw0rld @remotewatch @starsprangledgirl

no matter the stressor husband!jack literally treats it as a top-priority emergency

immediately goes to start a bath for you in your gorgeous copper bathtub (cause of course you have a copper bathtub ... duh) with some suzzane kaufman bath salt's that he picked up down in greenwich after a meeting with vogue's magazine department.

husband!jack is a freak for baths and it's rubbed off on you ... seriously like that man takes baths multiple times a week, on top of daily showers

if he had to be out on a day you were particularly anxious for whatever reason he would come home with a laundry bag of new tasteful yet cute stuffed animals from loewe and never tell you the prices cause he knows you'd crash out

is great at being a body pillow and has no shame just laying in silence together for hours

would try to make you feel better by getting the overpriced (not in your opinion) criterion subscription just so you could watch vintage halloween movies without running a risk of getting hacked on some third-party sketchy website

would 100% let you live in his clothes while he was out of the house so you could feel comforted even if he wasn't physically near

would absolutely try to distract you with light comedy, despite his cockiness he is indeed a funny guy so it helps slightly

husband!jack would be such a proponent of a healthy mind is a healthy body so he'd make you go do jump rope with him (cause why does jump roping have to be so humiliating) or even worse takes you out to paddle board, like imagine your knee-deep in that melancholic state where you only read plath novels and listen to unreleased lana and your boyfriend drags you out to go paddle boarding???? like cmon now

you do feel better afterwards but you would never tell him that

if you guys owned any pets together he would without a doubt tell you he's going to be out for a couple of hours and come back with one of those portrait paintings of house-pets to cheer you up (editors note: vang olsen mimi does the most delightful pet paintings if your in greenwich!)

he would absolutely NOT be above trying to self-medicate your problems (within reason) by smoking w*ed with you or sharing a cigar being the chicest couple ever!

would 100% smother you in delightfully soft cashmere blankets in the pattern of gorgeous tapestries

would earnestly read poems (robert frost, emily dickinson, and shakespeare) to you to get you to sleep on the especially hard days

is a devout optimist and routinely talks you out of your doom scrolling

always holds space for whatever emotions you are feeling but always wants to provide solutions to your problems

and when he encounters a problem he can't so easily fix he invests time into getting your mind off it and plans steps you can take to lessen the hold whatever your stressing about has on you

writes mini impromptu love letters/pep talks on the empty spaces in your agenda notebook (wife!reader would totally own more than 1 of these louise carmen organisers in an apropos shade of autumn scarlet )

encourages you to do self-care rituals with your staple skincare products by letting you do the exact same steps on him

while husband!jack cooks for you both you read him your favourite chapters of "democracy" by joan didion in the kitchen every night and it remains a pillar in your routine despite the tumult

during your hard times jack is serving peak husbandry doing the washing, cooking and cleaning

when he's on his lunch break at the office you get text messages like this:

always makes sure that you take your medication (if you take any) at the exact times its supposed to be at and has little alarms on his phone

husband!jack would increase his acts of service to 1000% like that man would be taking your row boots into the cobbler for a new sole

would bring home flowers without a special occasion, just cause

would without a doubt bring out those STELLAR accents just to see you smile

disclaimer: this is all obviously fiction and i do not know this man nor how he calms anyone down, this is all for some fun distraction in these trying times.

to anyone struggling with the results and its ramifications (same here) i would really encourage you to read this beautiful (free) essay from alanabanaxox on patreon: https://www.patreon.com/posts/i-miss-dancing-115580140?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=postshare_fan&utm_content=web_share

#jack schlossberg x reader #jack schlossberg fanfiction #jack schlossberg imagines #jack schlossberg fanfic #kennedy fanfiction #kennedy fanfic #x reader #my headcanons #melancholicstation pilled #melancholicstation writes #melancholicstation

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miley1442111 · 8 months ago

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Hello!

I know its probably too soon but im obsessed with "i dont even know you anymore" but one of these days could you make a continuation with the reader and aaron getting close and the team sees it and they are all cute and he treats her like a gentleman (with a bit of age gap because...its just right).

Thank you, and i totally get it if you dont want to do it and want it to be just a "stand alone".

Xoxo😘

omg I love this idea!!!! i hope i did it justice :)

i don't even know you anymore- s.reid /a.hotchner

a/n: intended for fem or male reader, so imagine what you like:)))))))))

summary: you can get past your break up with Spencer, especially with Aaron by your side, right?

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader, brokenupspencer reid x reader

warnings: general angst, cheating and breaking up, general fighting, kissing, emotional stuff

PART 1

4 moths post-breakup

It had been a gruelling 4 months. You had moved out of Spencer and your shared apartment, much to his disappointment. You had broken up with him the morning after, knowing you wouldn’t have felt secure in the relationship had it gone on. Emily, your best friend on the team, had been letting you live with her and she had told Aaron. It was clear as day to everyone that Aaron had a soft spot for you. As the youngest on the team (you were the same age as Spencer, just a few months younger), he felt it was his duty. He’d always step in if a superior was belittling you, always step up if an officer was flirting with or objectifying you when Spencer was too busy to notice, and he had reached out after the breakup, telling you that he could reassign you if you wanted, but urged you to stay on the team since you were such an asset.

Your text conversations started with that, and slowly evolved into daily conversations about anything. Cute photos of Jack, funny jokes that soon turned into inside jokes, ideas on cases, and plans to get coffee. Your daily texts from Aaron, the support from Emily and the team, and the knowledge that you’d done the right thing for yourself, made the shitty time easier. What wasn’t easy was Spencer's daily ‘apology coffee’. He’d get you a coffee from your favourite coffee shop and write a sticky note, begging to even just talk. It was becoming soul-shattering how sad he constantly looked. A part of you wanted to run back to him and just be there for him, but you knew it’d only cause you pain. Jj refused to talk to you unless it was about a case, or to chew you out over Spencer’s devastated state and her now failing marriage at least once a week. You’d reached out to Will, assuming he’d known. He hadn’t, and now he was taking the kids. You felt bad, truly, and you wished you hadn’t said anything, but there’s only so much someone can do. You’d told Jj the second it happened and apologised profusely. Did she curse you out over the phone? Yes. Did she say Spencer never truly loved you? Yes.

But did any of that fix her marriage? No.

Cases and days passed uneventfully, full of blood, guts, and longing glances from Spencer. You had started going apartment hunting recently and you felt better. You felt like yourself again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

6 months post-breakup

This case was particularly difficult, the unSub was targeting women of your exact description, and you had been chosen to go undercover- your least favourite pastime.

“You don’t have to do this, you know that right?” Derek asked as he watched you turn your mic on.

“Who else is? He needs to be stopped.”

“You don’t have to be the one to stop him, his behaviour isn’t escalating-” Spencer had budded in but you held up a hand to silence him. His rambling used to make you feel special because you were the only one who truly listened to him. You never cut him off or said something back-handed. You never made it a joke. Now his rambling felt bitter and silly to your ears, a reminder of just how stupid you’d been.

“I’ll be fine,” You sighed. “I’ve done this before, right?”

Derek nodded and pulled you into a quick hug. Spencer tried to pull you in for a hug but you dodged him, wanting to get all of this over with. You hated being undercover. It made you feel powerless and objectified.

“Agent?” Aaron coughed out and you stared in his direction. “Can I have a word?”

“Sure,” you shrugged and followed him into an empty interrogation room. “Planning on interrogating me?”

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, letting his guard down as he had so many times in the past few months. He had opened up about so much. He had opened up about Haley’s death, about how bad of a parent he feels, anything. He even let you come over and have a movie night with him and Jack once a week. Jack falls asleep halfway through and Aaron puts him to bed and you pick a movie that isn’t about paw patrol or trolls. Though you enjoy watching those all the same. Jack cuddles up to you and smiles at you until he falls asleep. It’s adorable.

“I’m sure. I’ll be fine, don’t worry Aaron,” you smiled, taking his hand. “I’m trained for this, right?”

“I’ll be right there,” he promised. “Say the word and we’ll come in.”

“I know,” you chuckled. “Thank you.”

“Promise me you’ll be careful?”

“I promise,” You smiled and kissed his cheek, leaving the room swiftly after.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Being undercover was just about as terrible as you thought it would be. The unSub was an asshole, of course he was- he was murdering women. But he was a particular kind of asshole, the kind that takes women down for their insecurities so that he could lure them to him. He was verbally degrading you and if you were being yourself, you would’ve talked back. But, you were undercover and playing a college student.

And that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was when Spencer came in, acting as your ‘boyfriend’ to get him away, ruining the only chance you had at capturing the guy. You slumped against your seat in the SUV as Spencer attempted to justify his actions to the rest of the team outside the car.

“I thought he was going to-” He was speaking a mile a minute, but stopped when Aaron put his hand up.

“Do you have any idea what you just jeopardised?” He boomed, calm but clearly angry. “That was the closest we have ever been to him, and now he knows your face Spencer. He also knows Y/n’s face. He knows you're with the FBI and he knows we’re looking for him! Do you have any idea how stupid that was?”

“Hotch I’m sorry I-I was worried-” he tried to apologise but Aaron cut him off again.

“Spencer, we were all worried about Y/n. Every single one of us. But you have to remember that she’s a trained agent, and that she’s not your girlfriend anymore,” Aaron stormed off to the other car with Dave trailing behind as the rest of the team stood there, shocked.

“This is all your fault Y/N!” Jj provoked. “None of this would’ve happened if you didn’t make it such a big deal!”

You rolled your eyes and put on your headphones, the want to leave the team grew stronger everyday. You hated Spencer. You hated Jj. You didn’t know how much more you could take.

“Listen to me!” Jj urged and you just turned your music up as Emily and Derek began defending you.

Jj shoved you, and it was the last straw. You got up and out of the car. You knocked in Aaron’s window in the next car and he rolled it down. “Can I come with you two?”

They both nodded and Aaron opened his door, allowing you to climb in.

“What’s going on?” Dave asked after a moment of silence.

“The end of my time with the BAU. I’m leaving,” you sighed, not looking at Aaron. You’d technically gone over his head and went straight to Strauss, but you didn’t care. You weren't going to change your mind on this, and you didn’t want him to try.

“That’s very sad news,” Dave sighed. “You’re a great asset to this team.”

“I’m just dividing it. There’s no need for me to cause this much trouble. Spencer would’ve never gone in if he didn’t think he was ‘saving’ our relationship, Jj would be more focused on work and there would be less tension. I’m so sick of everyone picking a side. It’s not fair.”

“But you shouldn’t have to leave, this doesn’t need to happen-” Aaron started but Dave cut him off.

“You're doing a very kind thing for people that probably don’t deserve it,” Dave sighed. “Where are you planning on going after?”

“I don’t know yet,” You shrugged and saw Aaron practically deflate.

“You have no plan?” He asked, clearly concerned.

“No? I have a law degree, I might go into that, or I’ll just join another department at Quantico. I don’t have everything mapped out right now Aaron.”

Aaron remained with a hardened look on his face the rest of the ride to the airport. The tension in the air was palpable and, to be honest, you were sick of it. You just wanted this to be over with. It was draining, and taking a toll on you mentally. Any breakup would, but this breakup included the team. The most important people to you were forced to pick a side and chose who was in the wrong or right. Jj and some others from the office had picked Spencer’s side, saying it was unfair that you didn’t hear him out. Whereas Penelope, Emily, Aaron, Dave, Derek, and the rest of the office took your side, saying it was wrong to kiss someone else, especially a mutual friend and coworker, and someone he’d admitted to having a serious crush on. You were done. You were leaving.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

8 months post-breakup

Honestly, not being on the BAU had some getting used to. Your team had been your family for so long that being without them felt strange. You had been reassigned to the Criminal Justice Information Services Division, or CJIS for short. You’d moved a whole 4 and half hours away from Quantico, much to the team's chagrin. You loved it there, it was a nice change. Though, you missed your weekly movie nights at Aaron’s (those now had to be turned monthly), you missed your daily catch-ups with Emily which had to be moved over facetime, since you didn’t live down the block from each other anymore, and you missed being a profiler. You missed Pen, David and Derek, you even kind of missed Jj.

A knock sounded at your door and you instantly got up and smiled, opening it without even looking. “Jack!” You wrapped the little boy up in a large hug and felt him giggle into your shoulder. You heard Aaron’s laughter and looked up at him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it as a small greeting. Jack wrangled himself out of your arms and began to run inside your house, desperate to eat the freshly popped popcorn you always made for him.

“Hi honey,” Aaron smiled, pulling you in for a hug. His nicknames always made you feel special, your favourite being ‘honey’. You thought it sounded more romantic and endearing than other nicknames. Not that you thought of Aaron in a romantic way. Never. You wouldn’t. Not even when he picked Jack up with ease, a t-shirt on to show the swell of his biceps. Not when he crept his arm around you during movies. Definitely not when we helped you cook in the kitchen, for example, when you made bread. He looked so-

You pushed those feelings out of your head.

“Hey Aaron,” you smiled as he pulled away. “How are you?”

“I’m fine thank you, how are you?” He asked, a small smile on his face.

“I’m good, I love my new department,” You beamed, though this topic was clearly a sore one for Aaron. His body language changed, he was more rigid, more tense.

“That's good,” he deadpanned. “The BAU misses you.”

“I miss them too,” you chuckled, reminiscing on better times. “Send them my love, will you?”

“Of course, honey,” he smiled again as he saw you get flustered.

The night went off as usual, Jack falling asleep immediately, putting him to bed in your guest bedroom, watching a movie, cleaning up, making out with Aaron on your couch- wait, what?

There you were, making out with Aaron on your couch. The tension had finally broken and now, his hands were on your waist as you straddled his legs, kissing him feverishly.

“I want you,” Aaron rasped. “I want you as my girlfriend.”

You pulled away, catching your breath. “Seriously?”

He nodded and kissed you again, even more forceful than last time.

“I’m yours,” you said in between kisses.

“You’re mine.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

12 months post-breakup

Dating Aaron had been bliss. He was the perfect gentleman in every way, and he was perfect for you. You loved him. He loved you. He had also convinced you to come up to Quantico to see the team. Something that was becoming increasingly real as you stepped foot inside the bullpen and saw everyone’s faces. Spencer looked elated to see you, it was a full year since you’d broken up and maybe he was healed? Derek looked excited to see you, as did Penelope, David, Emily, and, of course, Aaron. He walked over and pulled you into a hug and smiled, happy that you were doing this. Penelope ran over next, then Emily, David, Derek and, finally, Spencer. Jj was nowhere to be seen- probably a good thing.

“It’s so good to see you, I didn’t realise you were coming back-” He rambled but you cut him off.

“I’m not coming back, I just came to say hi to everyone,” you smiled. “Aaron convinced me.”

Aaron tried to hide his smirk with his hand but it didn’t work well, and looking at Spencer, you’d think he was being faced with the most horrific challenge of his life.

“You’re who Aaron’s dating,” Spencer stated and there was a collective gasp from the office. You looked to Aaron in panic and he nodded.

“Yes, we are dating,” Aaron said, the focus turning to him. “It’s only new so I’d really like for everyone to calm do-”

“How could you do that to me?” Spencer turned to you, sounding broken-hearted. “You go after Hotch to make me, what? Jealous? To make me want you again? I’ve always wanted you, I’ll always want you! You don’t want him, you want me.”

“Spencer, I’m dating Aaron because I love him. Me and you are history, it happened a year ago!”

“It was a 3 year long relationship, you don’t just get over it in a few months,” Spencer seethed.

“Yeah, it took me a long time, but I am over it.”

“That’s not fair,” Spencer stormed off, clearly upset but no one went after him. The rest of your visit was filled with catching up with people, laughter, and a nice dinner. You and Aaron went back to his house, since you didn’t feel like driving the 4 and half hours home. As you went inside, you saw Jessica, she smiled at you as you caught up, then left when you were done talking. She had been watching Jack and put him to sleep, meaning you and Aaron had the house practically to yourselves. You noticed Aaron had been acting off since the confrontation with Spencer, you assumed it was anger but no, it was something else. You grabbed his hand and sat him on the couch, sitting beside him.

“Talk to me,” you pleaded, a hand running through his hair.

“About what?” he chuckled, though it lacked humour and life.

“About what’s wrong.”

He stared at you for a moment, then sighed. “I understood Spencer’s point. You shouldn’t want me. I’m not exactly in the prime of my life, I have a child, I’m not exactly up to going clubbing or things like that. You should be with someone your own age. Someone like Spencer-”

“Spencer cheated on me. Aaron, I love you. I love you so much. You’re the most handsome, caring, and loving person I’ve ever met, you’re a brilliant dad, you and I both know I wouldn’t go clubbing either way, and you’re very proficient in other forms of exertion so I wouldn't worry about that. I love you Aaron. You.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, a kiss that soon turned heated. You knew he understood you. You knew he heard you. And you knew you’d be ok.

You loved him, he loved you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

#aaron hotchner x reader #bau team #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds x you #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction

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killerlookz · 7 months ago

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Hello my fellow Criminal Minds fan! 😊

May I please request headcanons for Spencer falling for a female agent who’s cynical about love and relationships due to being hurt in the past?

a/n: thank you sm for the request! i'd be happy to write this for you! :-)

Falling in Love Again | Spencer Reid Headcannons

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

content: mentions of reader having been cheated on in the past, uhhhh that's really it haha

word count: 1,478 (sorry she's so long)

Spencer Reid had always been excited about falling in love, the thought of being so close to another person- to share so much with someone was such a wonderful thing to him.

Especially after watching his mom and dad growing up, and the way his father treated her-Spencer was dead set on never becoming anything like him, he looked forward to treating a woman right and spending the rest of his life with her.

But, for as excited as he was he was probably 20 times more nervous about the whole falling in love thing.

So when you came around, and he started to experience that warm, creeping feeling in his chest- he felt a little bit like his world was going to end.

Spencer had never made a move on anyone before, sure he did make out with Lila Archer that one time but he didn't exactly initiate it.

Spencer decided just to channel all of his romantic interest in becoming friends with you, at least he got to spend time with you, that's what really mattered to him. Maybe one day it would turn into something more.

Well.. he hoped until he couldn't help but overhear...

"I went on my first date in months last night, and all this guy did was talk about himself the entire time- didn't let me get a word out, I mean, can you believe it?" Emily says, exasperated

You look up at her as she stands in front of your desk, "Oh, trust me Emily, I can believe it." You shake your head

"I mean," She throws her hands up, "What is it with men? What's wrong with them."

"Everything," You smirk, "They're men. I can't remember I had a good experience with one of them- never maybe?" You laugh. "I've given up on dating."

Your words sunk into Spencer's brain, leaving him with a heavy feeling all around he felt awful- not just about the fact that his chances with you seemed to reduce to zero right there in that moment, but because of how upset you seemed under your sarcastic exterior, he could tell you'd really been hurt before.

A few weeks later you're out for drinks with Emily, Penelope, Morgan, Spencer, and JJ. Amidst the loud, drunken conversations and music at the bar- you can hear the faint chiming sounds of your ring tone, Who would be calling this late?

As you take your phone from your pocket, your stomach drops when you see the number flashing on the screen. The mere sight of those 10 digits making you want to throw your phone to the ground and stomp on it until nothing remains.

"Ooooh, who's that calling." Morgan smirks

You look him dead in the eyes and respond flatly, "My ex."

Morgan's smile doesn't fade instead his smirk seems to deepen, "You two got a little thang goin on?"

"No," You shove your phone back in your pocket, "More like he's trying to get back in my pants after cheating on me- twice."

"Ooh!" Morgan responds, wincing, "So he's a dog."

"A pig is more like it." You scoff, "Who does he think he is. I can't even imagine giving my time to another man again, and even if I could- what makes him so confident I'd give him the time of day."

That familiar heavy pain hits Spencer again.

He's staring at you, and it's like the rest of the bar doesn't even exist. Only you, as you bite your lip, trying to hide any emotion in your face.

Spencer has become good at reading your emotions, maybe it's because he spends so much time with you- maybe it's because of how often he finds himself staring at your face. As much as you try to seem nonchalant, he could tell how upset you are.

Spencer would spend more time than he wanted to admit fantasizing about treating you well, about giving you the love you never seemed to have.

Every time you made a snarky comment about love, or how men had treated you in the past Spencer would want so desperately bad to just tell you about how well he would treat you, how he would never ever hurt you, how he would spend his entire life taking care of you.

The words were practically scratching up his throat, begging to be let out. But still, he would just swallow them down, and give you a sympathetic look, he couldn't muster up being able to do anything more.

At the very least, Spencer's plan of becoming friends with you was working.

The two of you would become very good friends.

Spencer would learn everything he could about you, he would want to know as much as possible.

Not in a weird creepy way- but in a he just thinks you're so amazing he can't get enough of you sort of way.

Every time you and Spencer hung out he wouldn't be able to ignore that nagging feeling, the thought of putting an arm around you and pulling you close, of holding your hand in his, or placing a delicate kiss on your cheek.

The thoughts would eat away at Spencer, and he would only fall more, and more in love with you.

Still, he would lose more hope every time you divulged information about your prior encounters with love. He couldn't blame you for feeling so cynical it, not after what you'd been through.

Spencer would think about his mom, about all the wives Rossi had been through, about Hotch and Hailey, about you- he would wonder why love had to be so painful for some people. He was sure he would never hurt somebody he loved.

One day you're over Spencer's apartment, watching a rom-com, and you make a snide remark, "Oh, real love isn't like that." You scoff and roll your eyes.

Spencer doesn't know what it is, but something in him makes him respond, "It could be." He says meekly

You look up at him, caught off guard at his disagreement, "Hm?" you hum

Spencer wasn't able to take it any more, he hated hearing your cynical nature. He would need you to know how you deserved the entire world.

"Love- It can be like the movies." He affirms his stance.

"Not in my experience."

"I would give you love like that." Spencer would tremble as he makes his confession, so unsure of what would happen next.

He would be terrified of your reaction, scared he was about to mess everything up, ruin any future the two of you had together, and even worse, lose your friendship.

"W-what do you mean, Spence."

"I mean, you always talk about how you've been hurt before, and it just-" He takes a deep breath in, contemplating what he's going to say next, "I love you, y/n," He looks down at his lap, then back up at you, "I would never hurt you."

Despite the obvious passion in Spencer's voice, you were still hesitant about it, but everything inside of you told you to give Spencer a chance.

Spencer would insist on taking things slow, you were his first real relationship and he wouldn't want to rush things, for both his and yours sake. He wouldn't pressure you to put a label on things, or even say you're "dating"- those would come on your own time.

Spencer was determined to make you believe in love again, and he would do everything in his power to make sure you knew without a doubt how he felt about you.

Spencer would often get to work before you to surprise you with coffee and a breakfast sandwich, or a donut on your desk in the mornings.

He would insist on having a date night at least once a week, even if the two of you were on a case, ordering room service or finding a local pizza restaurant way late at night was sufficient, as long as the two of you got to spend time together.

Spencer would be hesitant about PDA or really moving too quickly into being too affectionate, still, he would frequently hold your hand, squeezing it tight when he could tell you were stressed or upset- either by a case or by life in general, he just wanted to give you that extra reassurance that he was there for you.

Spencer would really put the work in, he'd exert more effort than you had ever seen from any past relationship into even the tiniest things.

Spencer wouldn't mind though, anything he could do to reassure you that he loves and cares about you, he would do it.

Every little act of love and gratitude would be worth it to him.

He would savor and cherish every hug, every shared glance, every peck on the forehead, on the cheek, on the lips.

It was all worth it to him, every second of it- all he wanted to do was make you smile, to make you fall in love again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid headcannons #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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honey-crypt · 5 months ago

Note

elliott that sings his heart out while drunk asf x gn/m farmer? You know the drill :3

also saying that again, ur writing makes me giggle n kick my feet have a great day dude

a/n: i went all out if you couldn’t tell, only the best for the queen of elliott art herself!!! also attaching the drunk singing elliott art she posted for visualization reasons lol. this was a literal blast to write, i had to rewind somethin’ stupid like a hundred times to get the flow right. also follow @fuerrziah cuz her art is the best and she is da best <3

word count: 2.1k

warnings: alcohol, drunk antics, suggestive ending

summary: you knew elliott got a bit silly and unfiltered when drunk, but you didn’t realize that the man could belt it like the best of them until you witness him sing frank sinatra's somethin’ stupid.

★ sinatra - elliott x farmer ★

The Stardrop Saloon was the heart of Pelican Town, a bar and restaurant full of laughter and chatter every night, as Gus brewed pretty cocktails and Emily bounced from room to room taking and delivering orders. To some, it was a place to unwind after a hard day or to spend time with friends while to others, it was a second home.

Often, you frequented the saloon to treat yourself to a meal and a drink, and tonight was no different. You were too exhausted from harvesting melons, chasing after chickens, and so on to bother microwaving something, much less cooking an actual meal. With a heavy sigh, you plopped down at your usual spot and waved Emily over with a tired smile, “Hey Em.”

“(Y/N)!” the waitress greeted you with her usual sunshine demeanor, “Good to see you tonight!” she clicked her glitter pen and hovered it over her notebook, “The usual tonight?”

“You know me well,” you chuckled softly. Emily scribbled down a few lines and stated, “Should be ready in fifteen. Can I get you a drink beforehand?”

“Water with lemon,” you answered, your mouth drier than the Calico Desert from the summer heat. Emily nodded and went behind the bar, pouring you a tall glass of ice water with a lemon garnish. She returned to your table and set the drink down on the wooden coaster, “Drink up and have a good night.”

“You as well, Em,” you hummed, watching the blue haired woman disappear into the crowd of bar patrons. The walls of the saloon vibrated from the amount of noise produced in such a small space. You weren’t surprised at the amount of people present at the Stardrop Saloon; after all, it was Friday, the busiest night. At least, Emily and Gus will get some good tips. You down your water without care, as some of the liquid spilled from your lips and down your chin onto your overalls.

“Parched?” a deep but honey-like voice hummed. You looked up and locked eyes with your closest friend, Elliott, hovering next to you. Ink stained his strong calloused hands, presumably a remnant of a hours-long writing session.

“Absolutely,” you exhaled, “It’s hotter than Hades’ taint.”

Elliott snorted, emerald eyes crinkling up while he smiled down upon you, “I can agree with you on that, my friend. I fear that if it gets any degree warmer, I must forgo my long sleeves.”

You side-eyed Eliott’s sleeved arms, as he borrowed the seat across from you, seeing the outline of toned muscle. You could take your suspenders off, too. you thought to yourself, waving a passing Emily over and requesting another water with lemon, For a beachfront Hemingway, you sure have the physique of a Greek God.

“How did your day on the farm go?” the writer asked, resting his elbows on the table. You plucked your glass off the table and pressed it against your forehead, “I shoulda taken today off, but the mayor just had to request two dozen melons for his outing with the governor,” you grumbled, annoyed at Mayor Lewis but more so at the sweltering heat that suddenly enveloped the room.

“Rest days are always good,” the redhead let out a low hum of agreement, “Perhaps, you can do so tomorrow?”

“I doubt it. Shane ordered three dozen hot peppers,” you sent daggers to the man in question from across the room, as Shane drank his beer by Gus’s prized wooden bear statue. Elliott’s lips formed a frown, “The life of a farmer, one of never ending labor,” he laughed.

Emily approached your table and set down another glass of water with lemon for you, “Here’s your usual,” she added before placing a plate of spaghetti by your water, “Want some parmesan?”

“What is this, the Gotoro Empire? Of course, I want some,” you jested. Emily giggled and handed you the shaker of parmesan, “Just let me know if you need more,” she then directed her attention to Elliott, “Hi Elliott! You looking for your usual tonight, too?”

“Yes, please, my dear,” he answered, adjusting his suspenders, “And a pale ale for my friend, as well.”

“Coming right!” the waitress skipped off to the back of the bar. You raised an eyebrow at Elliott while you drowned your spaghetti in heaps and heaps of parmesan, “What’s the occasion?”

“Can I not treat one of my closest friends to a nice drink after a hard day’s work?” the writer clutched his heart, “You wound me, (Y/N).”

“You’re so fucking cheesy,” you rolled your eyes with a playful twinkle in your eyes, “You know I don’t object to anything free, especially a free drink.”

Emily returned with Elliott’s usual, a pint of beer and a crab cake, as well as a pale ale for you, “Enjoy your meals!” she gave the two of you a thumbs up, “Wave me down if you need anything.”

You touched your lips to the cool glass and drank, the hot and ice sensation of alcohol coating your throat, “Shit,” you exhaled, “I needed that, thanks.”

“Of course,” your friend offered you a smile, that stupid smile you often saw on the cover of a romance novel, “How about a toast?” he held his beer up, “To friendship and a hard day’s work?”

“I’ll cheers to that,” you chuckled and clinked glasses together. As the night went on, one glass turned into two, then three, and so on. You tapped out after two glasses, as for Elliott, the Scot in him already finished four glasses of beer. His cheeks were flushed like the color of his hair, his eyes fluttering while he held back a hiccup, “Oh Yoba…” your friend tucked some loose hair behind his pierced ear, “I think… I think I went overboard.”

“You think?” you questioned. Emily returned with Elliott’s fifth glass of the night and you mouthed to her, “Cut him off for tonight,” to which she nodded in agreement.

“You usually max out at three, is something on your mind?” your ears rang and your head throbbed from the noise of overlapping conversations around the saloon. Elliott finished his fourth glass of beer, a bit of foam smeared on the right corner of his lips, “Oh, (Y/N), I won’t bore you-” he hiccuped, “-with my woes. I’m simply a tortured artist destined to be consumed by my work.”

You grabbed a napkin and leaned down towards Elliott, “Hold still,” you whispered, as you dabbed away the foam from his lips. His face turned to a darker shade of red, “You’re so close,” he whispered back, eyes hazy. You pulled away and set the used napkin aside, “Sorry, you had foam on your face,” you mumbled, averting your gaze.

Behind you, Pam dragged herself towards the jukebox and slammed a quarter in its slot, grumbling to herself about hating the cheerful swing of the current song, “Shit,” you heard her curse, “Wrong button,” the atmosphere of the saloon abruptly switched from chaotic to sombre, as a light guitar riff filled the air.

“Oh!” Elliott leapt to his feet, “I know,” he covered his mouth to hiccup, “I know this song!” he then approached the jukebox and leaned on it for support, swaying his index finger from side to side to the rhythm of the music. You smiled to yourself and sipped your water, only to choke on it like a Yoba damn fool the moment Elliott began to sing.

“I know I stand in line… Until you think you have the time… To spend an evening with me,” his voice was a neat match to the original singer, a light baritone, “And if we go someplace to dance… I know that there’s a chance you won’t be leaving with me…”

Elliott unbuttoned a few notches on his sea blue dress shirt, exposing his defined collarbone and a bit of wispy chest hair, “Then afterwards we drop into a quiet place and have a drink or two…” he glazed over your face and body with a drunken smile, “And then I go and spoil it by saying somethin' stupid like I love you…” Elliott untied his ponytail, luscious locks free from their confinement and resting against his shoulders.

Your pupils dilated; no longer was the saloon filled with static chatter and the slamming of glasses, but instead everyone ogled silently at Elliott, his vocals amplified. He pushed himself off the jukebox and stumbled a bit, taking your hands in his, “I see it in your eyes, that you still despise the same old lies you heard the night before…” he touched one of his hands to your cheek and cupped it, “And though it’s just a line to you; for me, it’s true and never so right before…”

“Elliott?” your voice croaked, your blood rushing to your extremities and your heartbeat overwhelmingly rapid. He gave you a lopsided smile and continued to sing, “I practice every day to find some clever lines, to make the meaning come true…”

No, no. He’s just singing the song. This doesn’t mean anything, you tried to reason with yourself, but it fell short, as Elliott serenaded the next few lyrics, “But then I think I’ll wait until evening gets late and I’m alone with you… The time is right, your perfume fills my head-” he leaned closer to you and inhaled your musk, “-The stars get red and, oh, the night’s so blue… And then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like-” you could feel Elliott’s breath against the side of your neck, as he sang in your ear, “I love you…”

You couldn’t move, you couldn’t breathe. The alcohol in your system, the summer heat, Elliott’s closeness, made your mind go foggy; you were hanging onto every single word that spilled from the redhead’s pretty little lips. Elliott passionately belted out the instrumental pause, trying his best not to laugh, earning a laugh from you, nonetheless.

He stood back up and pulled you off your feet with him, repeating the chorus, “The time is right, your perfume fills my head,” he twirled you around, “The stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue… And then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like I love you…” even when intoxicated, Elliott was a true Casanova, holding onto you and swaying you side to side to the music.

“I love you…”

You met his eyes, oh how they shined like gemstones.

“I love you…”

Your knees turned to jelly, you clung to your friend for dear life.

“I love you…”

Your surroundings vanished; no more saloon, no more patrons, just you and Elliott.

“I love you…”

You leaned closer, your chest against his.

“I love you…”

You pressed your lips against Elliott’s, savoring the aftertaste of beer and crab cakes, as the jukebox switched to the next song and the world around you returned to its original state. Elliott kissed you back, you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol in control but Yoba, did he taste divine. Oh, to have the confidence of a drunken fool at all hours of the day, you grabbed at his hair and tugged on the strands, Elliott moaning against your wet lips.

“Hey, you two!” Pam’s voice snapped you back into reality and broke the kiss, “Get a room!” Her words garnered a few similar statements from other bar patrons.

Through glossy eyes and clouded minds, you leaned your body against Elliott’s and asked, “Well… should we?” to which he pecked you on the lips, “That’s a splendid idea,” you tossed your own wallet on the table to pay for the two of you’s meals and interlocked arms with one another, supporting one another’s uncoordinated bodies. To the door and out you went, as you and Elliott roamed the streets of Pelican Town towards his cabin, exchanging laughs and kisses.

…

bonus:

Back in the Stardrop Saloon, Pam plopped her ass back in her seat, relieved that the farmer and Elliott were finally gone. She gestured to Gus for another beer and commented aloud, “About time those two lovebirds figured it out.”

“Indeed,” answered Gus, as he dropped Pam a foamy beer, “They make a cute couple.”

“Oh, dear!” Emily walked up to Gus with the farmer’s wallet in hand, “They left their wallet here, should I run after them?”

Gus chuckled to himself and shook his head, “Put it in lost and found, I don’t think we should disturb those two tonight.

#honey crypt fics #stardew valley #sdv #stardew #sdv elliott #stardew valley elliott #stardew elliott #sdv elliott x farmer #sdv elliott x reader #stardew valley elliott x farmer #stardew valley elliott x reader #stardew elliott x farmer #stardew elliott x reader

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dreamsinmoonlight · 6 months ago

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I have a yandere alastor idea for you... Could you do it? Imagine the reader being one of the unfortunate people who was killed by the alastor when he was human... Human! Alastor never felt these strong feelings for anyone, until the reader appeared in his life, the reader was a kind and caring person with everyone, always treating everyone the same... Now I imagine when Alastor discovered that these feelings were love for the reader, but the reader rejected him because he already loved other people... Maybe Alastor, in his desperate and psychotic environment, unintentionally killed the reader...

(now currently) the reader became an angel and was chosen to help Charlie at the hotel (of course the reader doesn't know that Alastor is at the hotel and this happens after the battle)...

Now what would happen?

(Fudge knuckles, this, um, it set off something in my head because I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Admittedly couldn't imagine turning down Alastor but I can try to imagine it for this XD

Um I would have started this earlier but I was watching stuff with my friends yesterday when I got this. Point is I'm creating it now despite wanting to space out my creations, oops~

So i wasn't sure if you wanted the reader to be male or not (since you said "because he already loved other people") so I'm going gender neutral again on this. Sorry if you wanted male specifically >w<

Alastor uses "doe" as a petname for you which yes is female but I like the idea of it so I apologize for that.

Totes writing this after looking deep into my Alastor plushies eyes and while watching A Haunting in Venice. Don't ask why.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Characters: yandere!Alastor, angel!reader

Pairing: Guess

Genre: What genre does yandere being yandere fit in? Hurt? Ain't no comfort here

Summary: Sir Pentious should have told you, oh god, why did he not warn you.)

Oh Doe

Emily assured you this would be a lovely thing; she spoke with excitement and sweetness and love of her dear friend Charlie, of that wonderful princess of hell. And the newcomer Sir Pentious, well he had plenty himself of his time there, of his growing friendships and those strange fascinating souls for whom he'd given his life. For whom he was sent up to heaven, redeemed at last. It was hard for you not to be excited, your wings all a flutter as the portal opened to allow you entrance to Down Below, to Hell. To the Hazbin Hotel.

You found the place extremely warm and it took you a moment to remember that of course it was such. It was Hell after all. You smiled as you did so and approached the hotel, amazed by it's grandness. You'd heard about the great battle between the exterminators and the hotel residents; the loss of Adam had been both a great blow and an admitted relief in some. He had been many things to many people, you mainly saw him from a distance like most angels, but the idea that an angel as powerful as him could be felled sent emotions through Heaven that were less than pleasant. You of course never feared though, a kind soul through and through, one able and willing to see the good and warmth in all. Even, you'd be the first to admit, that of perhaps those who certainly didn't deserve it.

Your eyes found the design fascinating. There was something familiar in it, in the silhouette of it, of the flash of it, the strange apple shaped tower. And the one opposite to it, strange and ominous, and in it something felt as it was watching you with far too much interest. You felt, for the first time in decades, shivers down your spine and could half remember a voice.

"Oh doe, my doe, you have done something terrible. You've broken something deep inside me and you won't even be good enough to fix it." You had not thought about it in a very long time, those words, the last thing you heard from a voice as smooth as velvet, sweet as honey, and poisonous as a viper. It dug deep, it was embedded in your soul, for better or worse, along with all the regrets and sadnesses of a life left unfinished.

"Oh you must be the angel Emily told me about!" You were ripped from your memories by a voice and your wings expanded in surprise as you looked towards the door to see what you had to guess was Charlie Magne herself.

She was bright and cheery, the strangest sight of sunlight in the depths of Hell, but her eyes sparkled and she ran over to you, taking your hands in hers and shaking them excitedly, "Oh, Emily said an angel would come down to help but really after everything that happened, you know with the trial and the fight and all of that, well, who really thought that Heaven would really send down an angel? And to help us no doubt! I'm so excited, seriously, really, just-"

"Charlie," said the voice of Vaggie; she was another angel, Emily had mentioned her, and she looked at Charlie with a soft look before turning her eye to you. It was so....it was hard to describe, not entirely hostile, not certainly friendly; you knew very little of her, of her fall, of what happened, but you suspected that she had less than friendly memories of angels. Still you smiled warmly back at her, not blaming her her feelings, how could you when you didn't truly know her; you certainly hoped to change that with your time here.

She was not the only one looking at you with at least a little suspicion. In the aftermath of battle and rebuilding, there would of course be such for an angel walking up to the hotel. The tall one, the spider sinner Angel Dust, tilted his head at you with eyes hidden by sunglasses, hands on his hips. Beside him was Husk; Sir Pentious had called him the bartender, he had not mentioned how fluffy and soft he looked, with his own wings ruffling behind him with a look even more suspicious than Vaggie's own. To both still you smiled and waved, hoping to make friends, to prove yourself.

There were more; you knew there were because you'd been told. But try as you might, while you remembered Sir Pentious mentioning how Lucifer often was around, not there currently of course, and there was supposed to be a little one-eyed maid named Nifty, Sir Pentious' love Cherry Bomb, you couldn't quite remember who else he mentioned. You knew there was one more, one more resident, one more sinner. Who....who....

"Come on, let me show you around," Charlie said and there again was that bright smile. You liked her, she was a warm kind soul; she reminded you of what everyone always accused you of being. Yet deep down you couldn't help but feel you weren't though, that Charlie was kinder, that Charlie was sweeter.

Because Charlie wouldn't have broken someone's heart like you had.

She dragged you along, such strength for such a small girl, and you were delighted by the beauty of the inside of the hotel as well. Down your back you still felt the chills, still felt the sensation of being watched, but you told yourself it was nothing and enjoyed the tour.

"Husk is the bartender of course, Angel is our resident....well, resident; our housekeeper Nifty is running around somewhere," Charlie said cheerfully, showing you all around, "And my dad is currently at home but he'll be back soon; oh he'll be so surprised to see you, we haven't had an angel here since...oh...well..." she trailed off and looked embarrassed.

You laughed sweetly and smiled at her. "No worries at all princess, I understand. The situation was terrible and on behalf of Heaven, I am so sorry for what happened; you never should have been put in such a position to have to fight to protect yourself like that. But you all survived and Sir Pentious spoke so lovingly of you all, I am delighted to have the chance to meet you and assist you with redeeming souls so they may come to Heaven too."

Charlie looked at you and you recognized it, though it felt strange coming from someone as sunshine as her. It was a look you were well used to, one you had gotten a lot in life, when you helped someone who was down on their luck by giving them everything in your pockets, when you showed kindness and love to any and all around you; people didn't always understand, they didn't often want to. Charlie, you suspected, did on both regards but having grown up in Hell, though she too saw the good in all around her, there still must be a part of her that felt uncertain when faced with a true kindred spirit. You noticed from the corner of your eye Vaggie's expression change, of course she would see it too, to something a little softer but still with plenty of apprehension. You were not fake though in your goodness; you had become an angel for good reason, Sera and Emily had always told you so.

Something felt like it was chuckling and you could have sworn you heard it again. "Oh doe, my doe, how is it you can brighten up a whole room with that bleeding heart of yours?"

"Ooooooh!" Charlie said and proceeded to capture you in a massive bearhug; the strength of a hellborn, especially Lucifer's daughter, was quite impressive and you blinked a few times before chuckling.

She continued. "I like you a lot, you seem like just what we need!"

"Oh great another softie just like our princess," said Angel Dust, walking up behind you both.

Charlie let go of you with a pout. "Angel, what's that supposed to mean?"

"That means you're too soft for your own good and so are they," Husk said, "Which, by the way, what even is your name anyway, angel?"

"You know my name," Angel Dust said playfully and nudged Husk, making the sinner grumble.

"Not you, spider, the actual angel."

"Oh me," you said, smiling again before stating your name.

You didn't expect how pale he got. You didn't expect that someone as furry as him could even go pale. Maybe it was just that his eyes widened and you got the sense he recognized your name; you opened your mouth to ask what was wrong, why he was looking at you like that but he grabbed Charlie's arm, tight if her wince was any indication.

"Princess, we need to talk, now," he said.

"Husk what's wrong?" Charlie asked and Vaggie frowned as the cat-bird sinner pulled her away from you and down the hall.

You watched as Vaggie and Angel Dust threw you a confused look then Husk one before following after him, leaving you there, alone. The hotel was quiet, they moved far enough for whatever was on his mind for you to not hear; you choose that it was probably something important and you weren't too worried. Of course they didn't trust you entirely yet to talk about important things around you, not after what happened. You kept your smile and your faith and decided to take the chance to look about the hotel for yourself.

There were many floors and many rooms. Most were empty, many were locked; you thought to yourself of how beautiful this place would be when more souls came, to be redeemed and finally go to heaven. Oh it would be wonderful, full of voices and singing and laughter and happiness. You know you were chosen for this role but you certainly couldn't have imagined any better one; to help people was something you very much enjoyed doing and this felt like the best way to do so with your afterlife.

Yet the happy thoughts felt...cold here somehow. Colder still as you kept walking. The sensations continued, of being watched, of something staring. You tried to ignore it, certain it was nothing. That surely the shadows weren't somehow watching you; that was all that there were after all, just the hotel and the shadows.

Your own little tour led to a specific door and you weren't too sure what brought you there. By your estimates it was the door that would lead to a room connected to that strange tower, the ominous one, the one you'd felt had been watching you. You stood before the door for a moment, staring at the doorknob before pulling yourself together, your wings fluttering, your heart racing a little. This was silly, you were being silly; you reached out for the doorknob to open the door.

It opened on it's own, before you could even touch it, and from inside you heard something familiar. Jazz music, a taste of home; it touched your heart and your smile turned soft and nostalgic, reminded so much of those days when you'd been alive. Visions of New Orleans crossed your mind and without thinking you stepped inside, entranced by the music; you started to sing along, knowing this song by heart.

"Oh doe, my doe," said a voice and while the music kept playing, you no longer could hear it, for the blood that couldn't rush that did rush past your ears as the good memories faded away.

He'd always played it, a dedication just to you he always told you. That melodious voice, that bright smile; it was tinged, tainted, but the crackle of radio filter to it reminded you of the days sitting in your living room, listening to him talk, never imagining what he truly was, who he truly was. Your dearest friend, for years and years.

"Alastor." The name tasted like fear on your tongue and you turned to stare, with eyes as wide as a deer's in headlights, at the tall figure who stood there, gently closing the door behind you both.

So much had changed yet not much at all. He still smiled so friendly, so warm, and you once believed so much in it, in what soul could be behind it. Until the day he confessed and you, foolish, foolish you, who loved and loved and loved and didn't know yet how to take being loved, had turned him down. He'd called you his doe, then he'd stabbed you through the heart.

His smile twitched and he tilted his head, red eyes focused on you. He wore a monocle instead of glasses, you thought feebly to yourself how you'd liked the glasses; the slightly tattered coat, the neat little bowtie, the essence of suaveness, the sharp claws clenching so lightly a long thin cane with a microphone on the end, it all suited him in some way. You remembered his hair as brown; it now was reddish, red like the rest of him. Red like your blood must have been on his clothes.

"My doe," he said and reached out with one hand, cupping your chin; you were frozen, unable to resist, unable to speak anything but his name in a terrified whisper, "It seems Heaven's sent you back to me."

You didn't want to die. You were sure he would kill you again. But he continued to smile, with those sharp teeth like a sharks he had, and looked you over, examined. "I must say, I'm not surprised you're an angel; you always were one, you just needed the wings."

That hand moved, from your chin to one of your wings and a whimper left you as you felt him stroke your feathers, biting your lip and closing your eyes.

"The question is though, my doe," he said and his tone never changed; it was playful, light, and ever so dangerous, "Do I let you keep them or do I rip them off of you? Can't have you escaping me again, can I?"

"Alastor, please," you whispered, begged, "Please..."

"Though if I did that Charlie might complain," he said and chuckled, "And I wouldn't want that. Promise me then, my doe, promise me you won't try to run away."

"I promise." You just wanted to be safe, you just wanted him not to hurt you. You remembered death, it had hurt so much.

"Good doe," he said and pulled away, patting you on the head, "Now come on, remember to smile; you're never fully dressed without one."

He smiled at you and you smiled back. Not because you wanted to. But because something, deep down, from that day, from all those days you'd spent with him, and all the days you knew to come, that if you didn't, it wouldn't end well.

The door burst in soon after and Vaggie seemed on the attack while Angel grabbed you to pull you behind him, Charlie apologizing over and over, "I didn't know, Husk told us all about what happened, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have let you wander off on your own".

"No worries princess, I was just greeting our new angelic guest," Alastor said with cheer and friendliness.

Husk glared at him, his wings expanded, his eyes narrowed. You tried to reassure Charlie; you couldn't even really reassure yourself. But something in seeing her so worried, Husk so on edge, Vaggie with her spear and Angel standing there as if he could or would do anything, make almost seem like this could still be okay. You could still see the bright side in this, goodness, the light.

Even when facing down the greatest devil you knew.

#yandere!alastor #angel!reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #fanfiction #fanfic #answering writing prompts #this one came out long #violence tw

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