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unseededtoast · 1 year ago

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I'd Wait For You | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: In which you find that a broken engagement leads you to the love of your life. (Friends to lovers)

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted

wc: 6.9k

"You have no idea how long I've waited for you."

There is something weird in the air this morning, Spencer feels it the second he wakes up, but is unable to put his finger on what it is. As he goes about his morning routine he continues to ponder what this feeling could be from. He hadn't forgotten to turn in any papers, there is no rush to get to work, there is simply nothing going on that would cause this unsettling feeling that takes residence in his chest. But it persists nonetheless.

His commute to work is no better either, the sense of dread looms over him for no particular reason, and the anxiety causes him to pick at the skin around his nails, a bad habit he had stopped long ago. Spencer doesn't consider himself to be superstitious, but this is all beginning to feel a little foreboding to him. But he tries his best to mask the feeling as he walks through the familiar BAU doors, ready to distract himself with whatever tasks get assigned to him today.

The rest of the team shows up a few minutes later than he did, everyone taking their time to get settled at their desks. They had just returned from a case yesterday, so a day in the office is much appreciated.

The minutes slowly tick by and everyone but Spencer begins working on something, he just can't seem to focus today. Instead of trying to force himself to do work, he decides a cup of coffee might bring some sense of normalcy to the morning.

He picks his favorite mug and makes his coffee just as he usually does, but he takes his time stirring in the sugar, becoming entranced in the swirl within the cup as he stirs and stirs. Emily and JJ's voice outside the break room break his trance and he tosses the stir stick away as they walk in, happily talking about something.

"Did you hear?" Emily asks Spencer with a smile on her face. Spencer's eyebrows crease and he recalls the past few days, trying to remember if she is expecting good news. But he comes up short. With a shake of his head, he glances between the two.

"Hear what?" With his question, JJ turns her phone around to show Spencer a picture. As he realizes what is on her screen, he swears he feels his heart stop beating.

"She got engaged!" JJ exclaims, as if it's the best news she will hear all year. And while it might be the best news for her, it couldn't be worse for Spencer.

"About time too." Emily says, looking at Spencer expectantly. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he nods shortly.

"Yeah." He tears his eyes away from JJ's screen and brushes by the two of them to get out of the room as quickly as possible, forgetting his coffee on the counter.

Spencer swiftly walks through some of the quieter halls in the office until he finds a secluded conference room. With unsteady hands, he closes the door behind him and lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. His mind races with a hundred different thoughts at once, all of them revolving around the photo of you with a shiny ring on your finger.

Spencer should be happy for you, he should be over the moon that you had found happiness. But instead all he feels is sick to his stomach and like he had been kicked in the chest. He closes his eyes tightly, trying to keep tears at bay as he vividly remembers the moment he knew he was head over heels for you. It's a bittersweet memory for him, and one he thinks of quite often.

You had been on the team for a few months when Hotch assigned you and Spencer to put together the geographic profile together. You jumped at the opportunity, eager to learn something new, and he was excited to get to know you better. While the two of you worked together, Spencer couldn't help but notice the sweet smell of your perfume and how you nibbled on your lips as you concentrated. He found himself getting sidetracked by you more and more often, and couldn't help the pink flush of his cheeks whenever you glanced his way. It was on the third morning of working together when he realized that he had started to fall for you; the shiver that ran down his spine confirmed it as your hands brushed when you handed him a cup of coffee.

But that was four years ago, and nothing is the same.

As the memory fades, Spencer tries to pull himself together by straightening his tie and taking a few deep breaths. He's sure that Emily and JJ will have questions, but he's hoping they won't pry into the matter. Although he's sure that they've told everyone else how he ran off.

Once he feels like he's not going to cry at the mention of your name, he leaves the empty conference room and goes back to his desk where he has reports waiting for him. It's wishful thinking, but he hopes they offer some distraction from you. His foot taps with each pen stroke across the page, and he does his best to ignore Morgan's eyes staring at him a few feet away.

"You okay?" Morgan doesn't let Spencer ignore him any longer. With a sigh, Spencer puts the pen down and looks to Morgan, who appears to be studying every microexpression on Spencer's face.

"I'm fine." Spencer tries his best to keep his tone even and nonchalant.

"You don't seem fine." Spencer knows that Derek is just trying to be a good friend, and he appreciates that, but he knows he can't talk about what's bothering him here. Not in front of the team, and not in front of curious eavesdroppers. So to deflect the conversation away from what's really bothering him, Spencer gives a halfhearted answer just to be done with it.

"I guess I'm just ready for the weekend." Spencer quickly averts his gaze away from Derek's, his eyes catching the only photograph that resides on his desk.

It was a picture taken four years ago with the whole team, you had asked for a group photo before you left, and Spencer had printed one for himself as well. You were in the middle of the group, one arm wrapped around Spencer while the other wrapped around Emily. A wide, bright smile was on your face, but he knew if he looked hard enough he could see the tears you fought away, the same ones that broke loose immediately after the camera's flash.

Before you left you had admitted to Spencer that you didn't really want to leave, but your boyfriend had received a job offer he couldn't refuse, one that was across the country. Every bit of Spencer wanted to beg you to stay, but he knew how happy your boyfriend made you, and he couldn't bear to see you unhappy. So he swallowed his pride and encouraged you to go, to embrace new opportunities; but he made a point to let you know that you would always be welcomed back with open arms.

The night you left Spencer remembers how he cried for hours, looking at the photo and knowing that he would likely never see you again. He knew he would never be able to forget your smile, your kindness, and all of your quirks that he had fallen in love with over the years. His heart constricted with the thought of another man's hands on you, but he could only blame himself, for he had never found the courage to tell you how he really felt.

-----

Rain splatters on the windshield as you speed down the highway, the wipers trying their hardest to keep your view clear. Your mind had become numb to the inclement weather at this point, having already traveled eighteen hours of the twenty five hour journey; a journey you never thought you'd make. But here you are, driving on an empty highway in the middle of the night, alone.

Mile after mile flies by, your thoughts replaying yesterday's events over and over again like an unhealthy obsession. It had come as a shock, walking into your home to see your fiancé with another woman on his lap. You weren't expected back home for a few more hours, but your boss had let you go early.

You remember vividly how excited you were to come home early for once, to spend time with your fiancé because work had been keeping you busy. But that excitement turned to nausea within a second. She had her arms around his neck, he had his hands on her waist, both of their faces flushed. Of course he tried to tell you it was a misunderstanding.

"It's not what it looked like." He begged you as you zipped up your last suitcase. Without sparing him a glance, you wheeled the luggage to the front door, unusually calm despite the circumstances. Your hand rested on the cold handle and you cleared your throat.

"Don't call me, don't text me. If I left something here I will have my attorney contact you." Is all you said before you left your home of four years. Maintaining composure, you placed the bag in the back of your car and got inside.

As soon as your home disappeared from view in your rearview mirrors, the dam broke. Tears fell quickly down your cheeks, harsh breaths wracked your chest, your hands tightly gripped the steering wheel. You must've cried for hours before the tears dried, your breathing had leveled, and your aching hands eased up on the wheel. Within the blink of an eye, your life had been turned upside down and you had no idea how to pick up the pieces.

You decided to go back to Washington D.C., the one place you really ever considered home, after a few hours of driving East. Truthfully, you have no idea what you're going to do or where you're going to go once you get there, and you only have a few hours to figure it out. But you have blind faith that you'll figure something out, even if it does take a few days.

-----

The next day, you wake in a hotel room, enveloped in pristine white covers. The sun peeks through the heavy curtains, and you rub the sleep from your eyes. Checking your phone, you see dozens of missed calls and unanswered text messages from your now ex-fiancé. It seems he can't follow instructions very well. You ignore his messages and delete his voicemails without listening to them, you have no desire to waste your time listening to his lies.

You scroll through your contact list and block his number, eager to be rid of the man as fast as possible. While scrolling, your thumb lands on a distantly familiar name, and an idea blooms in your mind. Your eyes read over his contact card for a second, Aaron Hotchner, your old boss. You could always call and see if there's any chance the team would take you back. Though it would be humiliating to explain why you had come back, you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss the team who became your family.

The thought of being reunited with them is enough to send Aaron a text before you can talk yourself out of it. It's a simple message, and right to the point. If there's one thing you remember about Hotch, it's how he appreciated conciseness.

Your phone finds its way to the side table as you get out of bed and get ready for the day. You had no plans in particular, and you had the hotel room booked for another week, so there was no immediate rush to get out. Today you would allow yourself to meander aimlessly and tomorrow you would get serious about finding a place to rent.

Halfway through your unplanned day, your phone buzzes in your pocket and your heart drops. There's only one person it could be. Not having the patience or restraint to wait, you pull your phone out immediately and read the text from Aaron.

"Come by the office tomorrow." The message is simple, in true Aaron fashion and a smile breaks out on your face, happy that something is finally starting to look up.

-----

Familiar glass doors are feet away from you, the FBI logo engraved into the glass, they look exactly like you remembered. Your heart thumps in your chest with each footstep towards the door. You hadn't told anyone but Hotch about wanting to come back, but you know when you walk through these doors that all hell is going to break loose. With a deep, calming breath, you open the doors and start towards Hotch's office casually.

But of course, as fate would have it, you don't make it there without being noticed. To your right, you hear a gasp, then another, and then suddenly your name is being called out by your old friends. Turning to face them, it's like everything is starting to click and fall into place. Emily and JJ rush over to you, smiles on their faces, and you can't help but smile as well. You've missed your team dearly.

"I didn't know you were coming!" Emily says as she wraps you in a warm hug, to which you return.

"Yeah, it was kind of unplanned actually." You say, stepping back from her arms. JJ and Emily look at you expectantly, but instead of giving them the answer they're wanting to hear, you take another step back and look to Hotch's office.

"We'll catch up later." JJ smiles, noticing your eagerness to get to Hotch. You nod before turning away. With a light knock, you knuckles make contact with the wooden office door.

"Come in." Hotch's deep voice calls out.

When you enter, he stands with a ghost of a smirk on his face and extends his hand. You return his handshake and take a seat in front of his desk.

"It's good to see you again." He says as he sits back down and you sigh, looking around at the office. Hotch really hasn't changed anything since you've been gone.

"Yeah, it feels good to be here again." You answer truthfully, meeting his eyes.

"I assume this isn't just a visit?" He questions, interlocking his fingers together in front of him.

"Perceptive as always. But you're right. Listen, I haven't told anyone but I am no longer with my fiancé and I was wondering if the team had a vacancy you're looking to fill." You get right to the point and your stomach turns with anxiety. Hotch's eyebrows lift at your words and you can tell he hadn't been expecting those words to come out of your mouth. But after a few moments of contemplation, he finally answers.

"We would be glad to have you back. When can you start?" You blink a few times, trying to process that he had actually welcomed you back and hadn't let you down gently, like you had half been expecting.

"I um, I can start whenever." You say, stumbling over your words with excitement. This time, a noticeable smile adorns Hotch's face.

"How about you get settled back here first, then we can talk about coming back." He says and you agree, knowing that having a stable place to live first is probably the right thing to take care of before diving headfirst into work again.

After catching up with Hotch, he allows you to mingle around the bullpen, where your old friends have been anxiously waiting. You can tell from the look on their faces that they're expecting some sort of explanation, and you can't help yourself but share the news.

"I'm back!" You say with a wide smile. JJ and Emily cheer, Morgan comes and claps you on the back, and even Penelope comes out and talks a million miles a minute about how you need to tell them everything. And while you love being back with your team, you can't help but notice how Spencer lingers in the background.

Spencer and you had grown very close over your years together, and once you had moved away you hadn't really heard from him. It hurt, but you understood and didn't want to pressure him to keep contact. But you really had missed him. You catch his eye from across the room and you smile, knowing that once you're back full time that you will have a lot of time to catch up with him, and you hope that you're able to pick up right where you left off.

----- "Well it looks like you're getting quite the welcome back. Four women went missing in Athens, Tennessee. All four of them were found on the same day in the same manner. They had their arms tied behind their backs and their heads were submerged under water. But the medical examiner does not believe they died by drowning." Penelope briefs the team on the newest case and as she speaks you study the images in front of you.

It's been years since you've worked a case, or really in any law enforcement capacity at all. Once you had moved out west with your ex-fiancé you had decided to take a job as a daycare teacher. It was a nice change of pace for a while, but it makes getting back into the BAU lifestyle that much more difficult. After being surrounded by innocent children for years, you're now being re-immersed in a world full of psychopaths and it feels overwhelming.

You sit back as the team discusses early theories. Once upon a time you would have jumped in with your own thoughts, but you suddenly feel under qualified to be here. It has you second guessing whether this was the right decision or not. But before you can dwell on that for very long, the team is loading the jet and speeding off to Tennessee.

While on the jet, Hotch assigns everyone their duties, and you find yourself being paired with Spencer, just like you usually were. Being paired with him ignites a feeling of excitement within you. You still hadn't been able to catch up with him properly, but you're hoping this could change that.

Everyone keeps to themselves for the majority of the ride, busying themselves with reviewing the case and resting up. Once upon a time, you usually tried to sneak in a nap on the way to a new case, but the nerves creeping around in your veins keep you unable to do so, instead you worry about performing well for the sake of your reputation.

When the plane lands, the team hits the ground running. Some members go to the medical examiner's office, others go to interview the families, while you and Spencer are left to piece together the geographical profile. He's spread a map out on a table and marked where the bodies were found.

You pitch in when you feel comfortable with your findings, such as where the victims were last seen. The beginning of the process is fairly straight forward, it isn't until the deduction part until you start feeling dread and nervousness. Spencer hadn't said a single word directly to you, he's only spoken into the open air and you've responded.

"Well, what if they were all going to the doctor for the same condition?" You pitched in and Spencer hummed in response. And for the first time, he finally acknowledges you directly.

"You might actually be onto something. Let me call Garcia." His words are rushed and he leaves the room as the phone dials. Your heart sinks as he leaves. This isn't like how it used to be at all. No, you and Spencer were always a dynamic duo, but this feels very static and compartmentalized.

Perhaps it's because he's unsure if your abilities are still up to par. Or maybe he's still upset that you left in the first place. You couldn't be sure, but you hoped that this phase would pass soon so that you could have your dear friend back.

-----

You look at the clock with burning eyes, seeing that it's already one in the morning. The rest of the team had left for the motel hours ago, but you and Spencer had stayed at the station, having struck gold with Garcia. Apparently, all of the victims had contracted a very unique disease and so you and Spencer had researched that disease extensively to locate where they could've contracted it from.

So far, there was a very limited list of possibilities. With your mind becoming more fuzzy with exhaustion you know you're not being a very good teammate. Yawning, you break the long-standing silence and stand from your seat.

"I think I'm going to go to the motel, I'm exhausted and I can't comprehend anything I'm reading anymore." You announce, throwing away your empty coffee cup from hours earlier. Spencer caps the marker he's using and straightens his posture.

"Yeah, I'll go with you." He rubs his eyes as he stands, and the two of you walk out of the station together.

The night is warm and you appreciate the night sky as the two of you walk back to the motel. Your brain feels like it's been put through a meat grinder, and the unrelenting nerves double down on your exhaustion. It feels like your feet weigh twenty pounds each and so when you finally reach the motel, it's like seeing an oasis in the desert. Spencer goes in for the keys to your room and to his room and you notice the teams' cars parked in the lot.

"Bad news." Spencer says as he walks back from the lobby.

"What?" Dread fills you and you're not sure how much more you can take before you mentally break and physically collapse.

"They had to rent out one of our rooms, I guess they made a deal with Hotch for a partial refund. So, the two of us are going to be in room B12." He says, swinging the keys from his finger.

"You're kidding." Your voice is monotone. All you had wanted was some space alone, but you can't even be afforded that luxury. Instead of arguing or complaining further though, you just sigh and head towards room B12, where you trust the others have relocated your items.

You hear Spencer follow closely behind you and he unlocks the door once you reach it. Inside, there's one bed and one small armchair. The two of you just stand in the doorway, staring at the inadequate accommodations.

"I can go see if I can get the keys to one of the cars." Exhaustion is thick in your voice and you feel beat down and defeated from the day.

"No, you don't have to do that. I can take one of the cars." Spencer speaks up as you turn to leave and you meet his eyes, tiredness obvious.

"Spencer you're too tall. No, just let me it's okay." You take a step forward, but he catches your upper arm.

"Listen, Hotch needs the sleep, he hasn't been resting well lately. So why don't we just try to figure something out here." He lets go of your arm and closes the door behind him. At this point, you just want to sleep and so you agree.

"Yeah, sure. I'm going to get changed." You say and rub your eyes as you go to rummage around your bag for something comfortable. As you go to the bathroom, you hear Spencer messing with the blankets.

Once the door is closed behind you, you grip the edge of the counter and look in the mirror. Your bloodshot eyes stare back and the anxiety of the day catches up to you with full force. Feelings of inadequacy and disappointment fill you and you worry that you're letting the team down by not being able to solve things faster. Once again you find yourself wondering if coming back was the right decision.

You let go of the counter and change, ready to pass out for a few hours and be dead to the world, hoping that your anxieties don't also infiltrate your dreams. When you exit you see that Spencer has changed as well, and has also constructed a sort of pillow wall in the middle of the bed. You can't help but smile at his efforts.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" You ask, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. After all your years of knowing Spencer, you knew he valued his personal space. He nervously nods and clears his throat as you approach the bed.

"Yeah, it's fine. Are you sure your fiancé isn't going to care?" His words are calculated and from the look on his face you can tell he had been stressing over this for a little while.

Looking down at your finger, you see the glistening ring and you spin it around a few times, remembering what it used to symbolize. You hadn't wanted to tell anyone about the break up just yet, but you know you have to tell Spencer now, or he'll be up all night worrying about the fiancé he thinks you have.

"I um, I don't have a fiancé anymore." Your voice is soft and you hear the vulnerability in it. Unable to meet Spencer's eyes, you just keep staring at the ring.

"But I thought, you're wearing the ring, and JJ said that-" He stumbles over his words and you finally look up to him, seeing him in an almost panicked state.

"We broke up. I left him, actually. I came home and saw another woman on top of him." You admit, fingers leaving the ring as you mention the infidelity. His eyes glance down to the ring before he meets your eyes again.

"I'm sorry I didn't know." He says with exasperation and you shrug but beneath your calm demeanor you feel the repressed sadness and anger within you.

"I wasn't going to tell anyone yet but I didn't want you to worry. But yeah, I left that same night and haven't looked back." You sit on the edge of the bed and Spencer follows suit, the two of you almost shoulder to shoulder and it feels like your friend is coming back to you.

"You didn't deserve that." His voice is kind and soft.

"I know. I just wish I hadn't wasted all that time on him. I wish I hadn't moved away from everyone. I missed you all every single day and for all of it to have been for nothing is just, it's a hard pill to swallow." You tell him, unable to keep your thoughts to yourself for any longer. You feel tears burning the rims of your eyes and for the first time since that day, you allow yourself to feel the emotions you've worked hard to ignore.

"Come here. I've missed you too. We all have. But we're so happy to have you back." Spencer wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you into him. He rubs small circles on your back as you sniffle, and you're thankful for him. This feels like the Spencer you know and a familiar comfort overcomes you.

You remember all the cases where he would help you deal with the trauma. After particularly hard cases, he would always remind you that you were welcome to call or drop by anytime, that he would be there any hour. In the mornings he would bring you coffee and he'd ask about your night or weekend. Everything with Spencer was always effortless.

And after a few minutes had passed, you and Spencer get into bed, pillow wall be damned as you link your pinky with his, just to know that he's here with you. That night your fears and anxieties did not follow you into your dreams.

-----

Spencer knows he shouldn't be happy to hear that you left you fiancé. As your friend, he should be upset with you and sympathetic. But instead all he feels is a deep sense of relief.

Since working side by side with you, the shiny ring on your finger had become quite the annoying distraction. Every time it caught the light it served as a reminder that he could never have you. But now, it no longer holds any power over him.

And when you link your pinky with his, an unfamiliar feeling blooms within him. One of hope, one that had long died inside of him when you moved away.

He's happy that you came back and before he falls asleep with you by his side, he promises himself that he will not lose this opportunity. This is his second chance and he will take it when he finds the right time.

-----

Three days later and the case is coming to a close, you can feel it in your bones. You and Spencer had begun working as a duo once again and successfully put together a full geographic profile.

Now, all that's left is to locate the suspect and bring him in for questioning. You and Spencer sit around a table waiting for the others to come back from their field investigations, and you can't help but notice how his hair is curlier than you remember.

Not only is his hair curlier, but you notice how the sun brings out the honey tones in his eyes. His long fingers lock together as he looks over a map, which is what you should be doing as well, but instead find yourself admiring Spencer.

He had grown in the last five years, blossomed into the bright man you knew him to be and he seems more comfortable in his own skin. You're happy he's finding his stride. And you can't deny the newfound confidence looks good on him.

With the realization that your thoughts had taken a turn, you snap yourself back to focus on the task at hand. There's no way you were just checking out Spencer of all people. No way. As quick as they manifested themselves, you repressed them deep within your mind.

Thankfully the others arrive back with good news, they've found the suspect; he was almost exactly in the center of the projected safe zone you and Spencer had established. They don't stay long as they gather the sheriff and some deputies before they go and arrest the man. You're sure that the team has found the right man, and you believe he's going to crack as soon as they put some pressure on him. You and Spencer stay behind to lend technical support if they need it.

Turns out, you were right again. It took all of ten minutes before the suspect confessed. The man who wanted to be seen as confident crumbled into a sobbing mess under Hotch's questions. He was taken to the county jail in cuffs and the team was left to pack up and head back to Quantico. You had forgotten what it felt like, what it really felt like, to solve a case. The feeling sinks in and you remember just how much you've missed this job.

The jet ride back to Quantico is fairly silent. Everyone has found their own thing to do and while they decompressed you looked out the window. The view from the jet never really got old, you always found some beauty staring out into the clouds. But eventually, your eyes drift from the wispy clouds to Spencer, who has opted to take a nap on the journey home. And once again, you come to appreciate him more so than you ever have for his continued friendship.

You're happy that you came back, and you look forward to what the future may hold.

-----

The night is chilly but the sky is clear. You and Spencer walk side by side down a path alongside a river, the two of you stressed about work and thankful to finally have a Friday night to yourselves. Of course, the others all had plans, except for you and Spencer, so you both decided to take a late night walk.

You look up to the sky and admire the stars, seeing some shining brighter than others. You're sure Spencer has a fun fact as to why that is, but you're perfectly happy to just walk beside him in quiet content. It's been a month now since you've been back and you feel like you and Spencer had grown closer than ever before in that short amount of time.

Your gaze shifts from the stars to him, admiring his side profile and how defined his features are. There's no denying that he's grown into his features nicely, and you can't help but to appreciate his beauty, inside and out.

Eventually the path leads you to a small stone bridge that arches over the river. Crickets chirp in the distance and the moonlight reflects beautifully off the calm water. Leaning forward on the stones, you take a deep breath of crisp air and close your eyes to appreciate the moment of peace.

"You're still wearing your ring." Spencer's voice breaks the silence between you. Looking down, you see how the diamond is reflecting the moonlight. It's a beautiful ring, yet you had never been so disgusted with a piece of jewelry.

"Yeah." You twist the ring around and around on your finger before you take it off.

"Are you going to tell the others? I know they've been asking." He says and you nod slowly.

"Yeah, I'm going to tell them, I just don't know how to I guess. They're all so happy that I've 'found the one' but, he was the furthest thing from my soulmate. I just don't want them to pity me." You say, meeting his eyes. Spencer leans on the bridge's railing as well, his eyes trained on the ring in front of you.

"You know you don't owe them anything, right? They'll understand." He encourages, and you know he's right but you can't help but feel anxious about it.

"I know they will." You say, looking back down to the ring.

What once used to symbolize loyalty and undying love is now nothing more than a reminder of the time you had wasted and the time you'll never be able to get back. It reminds you of how you bent over backwards to please that man, one who used and took advantage of you. Anger rises within you and in a split second decision, you toss the ring into the river below.

It sinks to the bottom, out of your sight forevermore. And as it sinks it feels like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. You feel free, untethered.

"I didn't mean for you to throw it away you probably could've sold it for a good amount of money." Spencer rattles off, obviously flustered that you just threw a thousand dollar ring into the river. But you just shrug, at peace with your decision.

"It was worthless." You say with conviction. Spencer's lips fall apart and your heart beats faster when you meet his eyes.

"Come on, it's getting cold out here." You break yourself out of your own thoughts and Spencer nods, offering you his arm.

You link your arm with his as the two of you walk back to the parking lot and it feels right. Being around Spencer feels effortless and you feel like you can be your true, most authentic self around him without worrying about judgment. His presence makes you feel safe and secure, and as you walk you rest your head on his arm lightly, grateful to have him.

-----

"No I think you put it on backwards." Spencer says, reading the instruction manual again. You take a step back and look at the chair you're trying to assemble and see that he's most definitely correct.

"I think you're right. Why is building a chair this complicated?" You ask as you sit back down and begin disassembling the part you had just put on.

It's now been four months since you've been back. In that time you've found an apartment and have decided to finally furnish it. And thanks to Spencer, you don't have to assemble the furniture alone. The two of you had put together a credenza, a bookshelf, a side table, and now are tackling the chairs, which are proving to be more of a challenge than anticipated.

After another hour, the chairs are finally assembled. Spencer collapses on your couch dramatically as you push the last one in to complete the dining set. Feeling like he deserves some thanks for helping you today, you go to the kitchen and pour him a glass of wine.

You return to your couch and sit next to him, putting the glass in his hand. He hums in appreciation and takes a sip. Before you partake in your own glass, you go and turn on the fireplace, feeling like it would complete the atmosphere. The amber glow from the flames envelope the two of you in warmth, and you take a long sip of your wine.

It's not unusual for Spencer to be over at your apartment anymore, he had been coming over pretty consistently since the night you two had taken a walk over the river. It's like something changed that night between the two of you; like throwing the ring was symbolic of more than just unloading past baggage. It's like it allowed you to move on and start anew.

Lately, you found yourself thinking about Spencer more and more often. When he wasn't around you find yourself missing him. You miss his humor, his comfort, just everything about him. Every time he knocks on your door butterflies erupt in your tummy and you're unable to keep the smile off your face.

You had denied the feelings for a while, explaining them away as just sentiments of friendship. But eventually, you had come to realize that you had slowly fell in love with your best friend. He makes your days brighter and brings peace to your soul.

As you sip on your wine, you move closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder. There's just something about Spencer that draws you in, almost as if he has his own gravitational pull. Like he's the sun and you're just a planet in his orbit. But you wouldn't have it any other way. Spencer puts an arm around your shoulders and hugs you closer, sending a warm feeling down your spine. If only you could stay like this forever.

The two of you finish off the wine in a comfortable silence, and it's not too long after that you find your eyelids growing heavy. You burrow yourself closer to Spencer, who adjusts so that you two can comfortably lay on the couch together. The crackling of the fire and Spencer's warmth lulls you close to sleep, and you might have fallen asleep, had it not been for feeling Spencer pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

The kiss was quick, gentle, but you know he had meant it. As you lay on him, head on his chest, his arms wrap you up and hug you tight, like he's afraid you'd float away if he let you go. You feel warmness creep up into your cheeks as his hands start rubbing slow circles on your back. It's almost like he wants you to fall asleep on him.

Before you're pulled into sleep, you look up at him through your lashes, only to be met with his warm, tender gaze already on you. Your lips fall apart as you feel the butterflies take flight in your tummy. Up close and under the soft glow of the fire, you're sure Spencer was actually an angel in human form. You had never seen such delicate beauty before.

Unable to stop yourself, your hand travels up his torso before it rests on his cheek. Your thumb gently strokes over his cheekbone as the two of you explore each other's eyes. It's unspoken, but you feel as if there's an agreement between the two of you, an acknowledgement of sorts.

Feeling a surge of confidence, you lean up and press your lips to his. He's warm and soft, and his hands cradle your face as if you were made of glass. Your lips move in perfect tandem, as if you had done this a million times before.

When your lungs begin to burn, it's only then that you pull away with a heated face and swollen lips. You blink a few times as you gaze into his eyes, seeing his pupils dilated and his lips pinker than they were just a moment earlier. His hands hold your face delicately and he looks at you as if you had personally put all the stars in the sky.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for you." He whispers before leaning in for another kiss. His words are deliberate and genuine, and you know he's not lying.

As you break away again, a smile finds its way to your face. Spencer smiles back and it feels like things are falling perfectly into place. You wish you had the ability to bottle this moment up and preserve it. Your heart and soul had never felt such peace than when you're in Spencer's loving arms.

You lean your forehead against his and close your eyes, knowing with every fiber of your being that Spencer Reid is the man you're going to spend the rest of your days with.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #Spotify

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octuscle · 3 months ago

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Halloween Spirit

Mortimer didn't think much of video games and the like. Like social media, he blamed them for the dumbing down of the population and the success of populist parties. And if proof were needed, his cousin Dylan was proof. Dumb as a bag of

Since he couldn't find a hotel anymore, Mortimer had been forced to stay with Dylan during a conference. They hadn't talked much, Dylan was usually out with his “bros.” At the gym, at the sports bar, at the football game. Mortimer had used the evenings accordingly and cleaned the apartment, which was quite a mess. And when he came home in the evening, he was glad when a little of that cleanliness and order remained. Today he was lucky: the apartment was almost in the same condition as when he left it in the morning. There was only a PSP with a note on the dining room table. In Dylan's clumsy handwriting it said, “Bro, can you help me with the Halloween quiz? I always fail on the first I'll be back at eight, let's go for a steak then.” Mortimer was a vegan. Of course Dylan knew that. Mortimer sighed, took the PSP and sat down on the sofa.

“What is the etymology of the name Halloween?“ Good heavens, thought Mortimer! Is this going to continue at this level? He typed in ‘All Hallows’ Eve.” “Who does the custom of carving and lighting jack-o'-lanterns commemorate (last name, first name)?” Did Dylan really not know that, Mortimer wondered and typed in “Jack Oldfield.” “Wrong” lit up on the display. “The correct answer would have been 'Oldfield, Jack'.” Out of the blue, Mortimer had to burp. Stupid software, he thought. A good AI would have recognized that he had only mixed up the order. He took a sip of cola from the can on the coffee table. ‘On which day do children in Germany traditionally go from door to door collecting sweets?’ Mortimer scratched his head. That was on St. Martin's Day. But when was that again? He typed in “November 11th.” Again, “Wrong! The correct message would have been November 10th.” Mortimer burped again. Hehehe, that was a good one. Came from the chili today. He took a slice of cold pizza out of the box next to him and moved on to the next question. “What is a zombie brain hemorrhage?” Mortimer had no idea. He just wrote “a TV series”. “Wrong, a zombie brain haemorrhage is a cocktail made of peach schnapps, mint liqueur, Bailey's Irish cream and a dash of grenadine.” Mortimer farted. Damn, the chili had been really good. But something else stank too. Mortimer raised his arm. No, that wasn't it. That was honest man sweat. Just the way a man had to smell. Mortimer pushed up his undershirt and scratched his stomach. This game was really boring. “What is the most popular Halloween costume of 2024?” Mortimer didn't feel like it anymore. He would put on his football gear like every year. With that, he could get any guy into bed. Especially the little nerds. They weren't so bad, usually made a real effort in bed… Shit, what was the question again? Okay, so “football player”. “Wrong, the correct answer would have been ‘Shrunken Head Bob’.” Was there another beer in this pigsty, Mortimer wondered. He looked at what other games Dylan had on the PSP. When was the idiot finally coming home? They were supposed to go out for a steak with the guys. Mortimer could definitely use some protein. He flexed his biceps. Yes, the babies needed feeding.

“Bruh, im still stucc in traffic. Ill b home in about a quarter of an hr. Get ready fo' an epic dinner!” Mortimer knew what that meant. He wouldn't need his best buddy Dylan for the next hour. Enough time to play another round of Peace Walker. And then there was finally meat, almost raw, just how Morty liked it best. Hehehe, rare is also good for Halloween. His favorite holiday. But who could come up with such a stupid quiz with smart-aleck questions about it was a mystery to him.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #tank top #ai image #smart to dumb #getting dumber #jock tf #jockification #nerd to jock #halloween tf

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frankenjoly · 2 years ago

Text

All of me

spotify wrapped writing challenge: luabaileys + 53

all of me (the score)

I don't need a miracle

When life gets critical

Just keep on pushing my limits, it's only physical

Holding hands like they were going to get suddenly and abruptly separated if they dared to pull away, that was how the small walk from the car had happened. And Lua felt Baileys latching onto her even tighter once the door was right in front of them.

“So… it’s time.” He said, and for a couple of minutes, the only response she could come up with was a nod.

“It is.” After quite some time and negotiations, her family had agreed to meet Baileys, and knowing how the fact they had gotten to the point already might be good news wasn’t as comforting as it should be.

A lot of things could go wrong yet, and the possibility hovered over them like a terrible omen, one they seemed to try to fight by being as physically close as possible.

“Whatever happens, I’ve got you and you’ve got me.” It wasn’t a question, since they had established it as a fact, but saying it out loud offered the last shard of courage Lua needed to finally ring the bell. No matter how things unfolded, nothing would be able to bring them apart. Nothing and no one.

#luabaileys #coffee talk lua #coffee talk baileys #coffee talk #coffee talk game #my stuff #clau stuff #ficlet #spotify wrapped writing challenge

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aurorawhisperz · 2 years ago

Text

that’s what you get (e.l.)

contains: swearing, suggestive content, fluff, richie exists..

neighbor!ethan landry x fem!reader

a/n: THANK YOU GUYS FOR THE TROPES NOW IM GONNA BE POSTING MORE BY JULY 🦅🦅🦅 ethan is a bit of a meanie in this but he’s still little old him (maybe just gf ethan persona)

some tropes i used are: enemies to lovers, girl next door, forced proximity and best friend’s brother 🙏 (yk allat shit LOL) THERE WILL BE A PART 2!!

•

You knew for a fact that Quinn Bailey was your best friend—what made it even better is that you two could communicate through your windows, but one thing you also knew is that you didn’t like her brother, Ethan, he was your age, Quinn was older than you both. He would sometimes cut into your ‘girl talk’ since his room was right beside hers.

“Dammit!” You said as you banged on the door roughly. Your parents weren’t going to be home until tomorrow morning for something important, and you had left your keys inside the house. To make it even worse, it was raining.

A familiar voice startles you and has you snap out of all that stress. “(Name)?” says Quinn, covering herself with a blanket. I think it’s pretty obvious what she was doing just now.

“Quinn!” You called from below, your eyes widen at the sight of her covered body by the window. “I’ll..get back to you! Damn..” You hear her say something to an impatient guy, something about helping a friend—obviously that friend was you.

A few minutes later, she runs out in pink slip-ons and a purple nightgown with an umbrella. “Need help? Holy shit, you are soaking.” Quinn’s eyes widen at the sight of your outfit ruined. “And cold.” You add, then slamming your fist on the wall, “I left my keys inside.”

“Boo, it’s not that hard to knock on our door.” She chuckles, then you roll your eyes, “And deal with your brothers while you get to bang someone tonight? Yeah, right.” Her eyes then dart and she forces a smile out. “Ethan’s not that bad.”

You frown, “Yes, he is.”

“Baby, you’ll have to deal with it. I can’t stand Richie anymore.” Quinn complains, then she tugs on the sleeve of your wet cardigan to let you inside her ‘humble home.’

Grateful to be out of the pouring rain, the familiar smell of your best friend’s home fills your nostrils.

You both plop down on the plush couch, and she hands you a towel for your wet hair. Quinn then shoots you a playful smile, “Aside from our ‘interventions’, what did baby bro do this time to get on your nerves?” She asks.

“That’s about it, he wants to be the center of attention even when he’s not wanted.” You let out a sigh.

Quinn’s lips curl into a smirk, and she gently places a hand on your shoulder. “He's just trying to be a part of our bond, in his own misguided way. Ethan’s.. different, he’s fucking awkward and stuff but not around us because he’s more comfortable.”

You sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and understanding. “I guess I can try to tolerate him a bit more. For you. But he better stay out of our serious conversations.”

Quinn laughs and pulls you into a hug, the warmth of her embrace enveloping you. “That's the spirit! And don't worry, I'll make sure that jackass knows when to give us our space. Besties have their ways, you know.”

“What ways?” says Richie, holding an ‘I LOVE STAB’ coffee mug. You also know for a fact that you hated him more than Ethan—being the movie geek he is, not that it’s bad, it’s how he takes it too far and even gets touchy with others. “Ways to die.” You mutter, staring deep into his damned soul.

He nods nervously and heads back into his room. “Stay in there!” yells Quinn.

Once the silence has dissolved into thin air, she blurts out, “How about that tension?” Your eyes widen, eyebrows pinched together and lips parted in protest. “Sexual tension?” You repeat, your face going pale.

She nods cheekily, “SEXUAL?” You shriek. Quinn laughs at your reaction.

You then hear Quinn’s name from upstairs, “Ooh, priorities.” She avoids your gaze and then drags you back upstairs, “Q, don’t make me a third wheel tonight.” You roll your eyes as her grip on your arm tightens.

•

“What the hell?” is the first thing that comes out of Ethan’s mouth when Quinn pushes you into her room. “Quinn, and you. Get out!” He narrows his eyes. “E, I’ve got a guy waiting for me to go back.”

“Then tell him to fucking leave?” He shakes his head. “You’re a degenerate, you know that?” Ethan shoots back.

“Well, I’m not a virgin, so you don’t get a say in that.” Quinn lets out a corny smile and shakes her head, you can see Ethan gritting his teeth. “Do you want her to deal with Richie then?” She tilts her head slyly.

He sighs, “No.” she raises her hands and continues “That’s what I thought, love you both!” Quinn exits just as Ethan is about to flip her off.

You sit down on Ethan’s beanbag and all he does is stare.

He scoffs, “What brings you into my lair?” He crunches on a cheeto. You obviously refused to let his taunts get under your skin, “Spare me.” You retorted.

Ethan smirks, enjoying your discomfort, “Mighty (name) finds herself in a bit of a predicament, huh?”

“Unlike you, Eth, I don't have the luxury of living in a perfect little bubble where everything goes my way. So excuse me if I need a moment to think.” You tightly clench your fists.

“Can’t we just tolerate each other’s existence only for a little bit?” You complain, Ethan’s mouth turns into an “O” shape and he sarcastically remarks “Who can go the longest without being an asshole? You or me?”

“Me.” You pridefully chuckle. “This starts now.” He declares.

You have never heard silence quite this loud. The only thing you and Ethan have been doing for the past few minutes is stare at each other. Eye language perhaps?

His lips part at the sight of you.

While you did hate Ethan, there was always something telling you otherwise—you’d find yourself looking through his window, and if you timed it right, even got to see his muscles whenever he changes. (And it was hard to keep a straight face when you’d see it during your conversations with Quinn.)

What snaps you out of that thought is Ethan’s scoff, he then turns his head—then his gaze back to you. “It’s so dumb.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows pinch together in the middle, and your lips purse. “You know how Quinn gets to show off her man all she wants and how she’s so freaked out over everything they do—even when she’s..done those things so many times.” says Ethan.

Ethan then shrugs, “It’s just stupid.”, your eyebrows raise in agreement as you bit the inside of your cheek.

While you did hate Ethan, part of you..or most of you was telling you that he wanted you to give in—but give in to what? Being the muscular little thing he is, it’s hard to maintain your sanity when you see him without a shirt through his window. Practically drooling, but of course, you couldn’t let Quinn know.

Mainly because she’s so ‘Quinn’, she would probably tell him.

Behind the thin walls of her bedroom were sounds quite pathetic, you two burst into laughter up to the point where you both were crying.

You put a hand over your heart and leaned back on the beanbag.

“Are they THAT loud?” You ask, “Very.” He chuckles in response, this might be the only conversation you two could call a genuine conversation.

“This is really pervy of us to do, but we don’t have a choice, not like we can tune them out.” says Ethan as he grabs a Marvel plush and sits next to the beanbag you were on.

“It’s not like me and Quinn could tune you out.” You joke. A genuine smile tugs on the corners of Ethan’s plush lips. “Gee, you’re really being nice right now.” Your words laced with sarcasm tumbled out.

You had spent your entire life making sure Ethan would never fall for you, nor would you fall for him—and you failed.

It was like there’s nobody in the world right now but you two.

“Well, it’s part of the game right?” Ethan said, his eyes, half-lidded, looking up at you. “It doesn’t seem that much of a game anymore.” You kept your eyes on him, and he kept his on you as well.

Silence. Just silence. That was how much reality hurt.

This is also the closest you have ever been. There is only inches between you both, and you are close to giving in. Breaking the silence, “Maybe I should leave now, I’m not cold-” Ethan then stops your lips with a kiss. He pulls away and you are left with the sight of him hovering over you on the beanbag.

You kissed him back even longer, yes, you were kissing your enemy. It felt so wrong—but at the same time, it felt so right.

The smell of lemon zest surrounded you, along with his intoxicating aura. The thought then entered your head.

Hey, what if I just pulled away and ran like crazy?

Just as you’re about to pull away, he insists against your mouth, “Stay.” Ethan said, you could tell from how hot his lips were—he felt the same way. Out of control.

Ethan then turns you both over so that he was on the beanbag and you were straddling him.

His hands were sneaky enough to slide under the back of your shirt. “Just calming your nerves.” says Ethan as he rubs soothing circles on your lower back.

It was his shuddering breath that made you think this was a dream. Being woken up was the last thing you needed. Ethan whines into the kiss, and you smiled against him.

You then pull away with a small gasp escaping your lips when his hips jolt up into yours, your fist slammed against the wall as he did it twice.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry. It’s a reflex.” Ethan stammers as he sits up, moving you as well. “No, no! I just got startled. It’s fine, really.”

He sucks in a breath through his teeth then his hands grip the sides of your face. Ethan is kissing you once again.

Just kissing, this is the closest you’ll ever get. Maybe you’ll forget about it the next day, or maybe one day—you’ll look back and regret it. The kiss being hot and slow, and his arms wrapping around you.

Ethan slides his arms around you and pulls you closer.

The moment of bliss is then interrupted when Quinn knocks on the door. “Hello? Just making sure nobody’s dead yet.”

“Shit.” You whisper, and you get off Ethan and push him back to his bed.

She enters the room and looks around. “I’m surprised this hasn’t turned into a warzone yet.”

“Uh-huh.” Ethan nods, but he’s all shades of pink. “Why are you so red right now?” Quinn tilts her head and squints. His hands move to his face and he tries to think of an excuse.

“It’s hot in here, isn’t it?”

“Have some decency, we heard you in there.” You grumbled, she then chuckles and leans against the doorframe. “Sorry, if I..” Quinn twirls her red hair with her finger. “Cockblocked you.” She lets out an awful grin then locks the door—closing it.

Now you were definitely in some situation, I guess she’s getting suspicious now. There was nothing in the room aside from the kissing sounds..what else? Ethan’s whining, and your fist hitting the wall..

Wait a minute.

You were completely fucked. Do you and Ethan just forget about it now? Or do you have to keep up the strategy? You weren’t the type to forget such a heated kiss, but what about him?

#ethan landry scream #ethan landry #ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry x reader #scream fanfiction #scream fluff #ethan landry angst #ethan landry smut #scream angst #scream

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saruwiya · 1 year ago

Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀﹗ ׅ ⠀♡⠀︵⠀

#baileys #baileys icon #baileys icons #baileys coffee talk #coffee talk icons #coffee talk #coffee talk icon #icon #icons

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rollingsins · 1 year ago

Text

Quinn Bailey Must Die, p4

p1 | p2 | p3 | p4

summary: Tara puts her plan into action. YN loses a bet. all hers universe.

warnings: (+18), Tara is (was) Ghostface, language. Sexual content.

pairing: tara carpenter x reader, sam carpenter x quinn bailey

word count: 2.9k

a/n: ass agenda rise.

Tara’s plan comes to fruition over cups of black coffee, your scrambled eggs and a half-eaten set of Mickey Mouse waffles.

Mindy’s brow is pinched as she drafts up the first message.

You’re a little restless, Tara’s hand on your back doing nothing to soothe you.

“There,” Says Mindy, after a moment, “How’s that?”

Tara takes back her phone.

“Hey,” She reads out, “What u up 2?”

Tara blinks.

“This is what took you five minutes to draft?” She asks, voice scathing.

Mindy huffs.

“No,” She says, “That’s just a primer. You can’t go in all guns blazing, Tara, she’ll get suspicious.”

Tara rolls her eyes.

“Been thinking about u lately,” Tara continues, “Feels weird how we left things.”

You clench your jaw.

Tara rubs your back, absent-mindedly.

“How r u doing? Sorry when my gf gets crazy like that there’s nothing I can do.”

You scowl.

Mindy ducks behind her coffee cup.

“Mindy, I don’t type like this,” Says Tara, hotly, “Where’s the grammar? This sounds like it was written by a fourteen year old boy.”

“Fourteen year old boy is Mindy’s spirit animal,” Says Chad with a grin, throwing a blueberry between his lips.

“Shut up, Chad,” Groans Mindy, “Tara, fine, you can change the grammar. But the rest of it? Does it work?”

Tara purses her lips.

“I suppose it’s not terrible.” She offers.

Mindy smiles.

“Skip a bit,” She suggests, “Get to the good stuff.”

Tara scrolls, and reads out the rest of Mindy’s text.

“I always thought u were sexy,” Tara reads, “You know Ginger Spice was always my favorite spice girl.”

Tara raises an eyebrow.

You snort.

“This is the good stuff?” Chad asks, “Mindy, you could have a billionaire dollars and you still wouldn’t be able to talk a thirty dollar hooker into bed with you. No wonder you can’t get a girlfriend.”

Tara sniggers.

Mindy shoots a glare his way.

“I can too get a girlfriend,” Says Mindy, voice hot, “I just don’t want one right now. Girls are high maintenance, I don’t have time for that.”

“Amen.” Mumbles Tara.

You nudge an elbow into her side.

“Ow.”

“You can not have a girlfriend too, if I’m too high maintenance.” You say, and Tara shakes her head.

“You’re worth the maintenance baby,” Says Tara, as you dodge her kiss, “You’re like a really nice lawn. No house is complete without it.”

“Romantic.” You deadpan, “How come you’re a house and I’m just a lawn?”

“You’re a mansion, baby,” Tara assures, “A ten million dollar mansion with an infinity pool.”

Mindy huffs.

“Can we get back to the mission?” She asks, sounding annoyed, “If you don’t like my pickup lines, you’re welcome to try out your own, Casanova.”

“I don’t need pickup lines,” Assures Tara, “Isn’t that right, baby? One look and you were smitten.”

“And one sentence and I have the ick.” You say, crinkling your nose.

Tara’s smile drops.

“Babe.” She whines as Mindy snorts.

“Give it to me,” Chad says, with a sigh, “Apparently I’m the only one around here who can talk to a girl.”

“‘Wanna come watch me lift weights?’ is not the pick up line you think it is, Chad,” Says Mindy, voice wry, “Besides, it won’t work coming from Tara.”

“I lift weights,” Tara says, with a frown, “I’m getting super strong, see?”

She flexes her bicep.

You roll your eyes.

Mindy raises an eyebrow.

“You’re like 4’11, Tara,” She says, “I could snap you in half without flinching.”

“I’m 5’1 and I’ll snap you in half if you don’t stop talking.” Growls Tara.

“Guys,” Says Liv, flailing her hands, “Stop. Chad’s got it. Show them, babe.”

Tara takes back her phone, still scowling.

“Can’t stop thinking about you,” She reads, “Should have kissed you. Sorry I didn’t.”

Mindy tilts her head.

“It works,” She admits.

“And if she just shows Sam the message?” You ask, “Then what?”

“She won’t, babe,” Says Tara, squeezing your arm, “Do you even remember how hard she worked for me?”

You do remember.

You wish you didn’t.

Tara presses a quick kiss to your cheek.

“And besides, if she shows Sam the messages, Sam will know how serious I am about this.” She kisses you, “It’s going to work, babe, I know it.”

“When are you going to send them?” Asks Liv.

Tara thinks.

“When she’s away from Sam,” Says Tara, “Maybe tonight. We’ll rope her into a movie night, right babe? That way we’ll know Quinn’s nowhere near Sam.”

You sigh.

“Come on,” You say, voice a little glum, “We better head back. With any luck, they’ll be done and she’ll be gone.”

“What’s your favorite breakfast food?” Asks Quinn, head pressed against Sam’s pillow.

“Eggs,” She answers, “With Arugula, preferably. Maybe a little balsamic vinegar.

Quinn wrinkles her nose.

“Most people say pancakes,” She teases, lightly, “Or bacon.”

Sam frowns.

“I believe you should only put good things into your body.” She says.

Quinn smirks.

“Nice to know I’m a good thing, then.” Smiles Quinn.

Sam’s cheeks turn red.

“You know what I meant.” She says.

Quinn leans over and kisses her.

“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” Asks Quinn.

Sam shrugs.

“It’s Sunday,” She says, “I was just going to relax.”

Quinn bites her lip.

“How about we go and get some Eggs with arugula? My treat.”

Sam bites her lip. The thought of spending more time with Quinn is surprisingly, not that unpleasant.

“Alright,” She says, with a smile. Butterflies flutter in her belly, “If it’s your treat.”

“Sam?” Tara calls, as she cracks open the door, as if she’s scared of what’s behind it.

You press against her back, impatient.

“Baby, hold up,” She says, gently, “I don’t want you seeing something.”

“They’re not going to be fucking on the dining table, babe.” You say with a roll of her eyes as you push past her.

“Someone should.” Says Tara, voice pointed.

You look around.

The apartment is quiet.

Not a peep from Sam’s room. The door is open, the bed messy and unmade. But it's empty.

Tara drops her bag over the counter.

She picks up a small, handwritten note.

“Out for the day, back later.” She reads.

“With Quinn?” You dare ask.

But Tara only smiles back at you.

“Not for much longer,” She says, sounding pleased with herself, “As soon as Sam’s back and out of Quinn’s clutches, I’ll send the texts.”

She moves forward and loops an arm around your waist. Presses a hot kiss to your next.

“Now, about that thing you wanted to do this morning,” She says, voice low.

You cock an eyebrow.

“I think it’s safe to say the moment has passed.” You say.

You squeeze her hips.

“But, babe-“ Tara says, with a whine, “You said-“

“Another time,” You promise, “Besides, don’t you have a test to study for?”

Tara sighs.

“I’m majoring in film, babe, I don’t need to study.”

She looks up, bottom lip in a pout.

“Why don’t I quiz you?” You suggest, “It’ll be fun.”

Tara thinks.

“And if I get all the answers right then I get to rail your ass?”

It earns her a smack.

“You’re not going anywhere near my ass if that’s what your intention is.” You tell her.

“I’ll go slow, babe, I promise,” Tara assures, taking your earlobe between her teeth, “I’ll go so slowly you’ll be begging for it by the time I’m done with you.”

Your stomach flutters.

“Maybe later tonight,” You think after a moment, “If you nail it.”

Tara brightens.

“Not the only thing I’ll be nailing tonight.” She grins.

“Don’t make me change my mind.” You warn.

Sam comes back mid-quiz.

Tara hasn’t gotten a single question wrong, and you’re starting to sweat. There’s a hungry look in her eyes, as if she’s hunting down her prey.

You welcome the distraction.

“Hi girls,” Sam says, as if nothing in the past twenty-four hours has changed, “Do you want lunch?”

“We just ate Sam, thanks,” You say, and she hums.

You catch Tara’s eye.

“Sounds like you had a good night.” Says Tara, a little snarky.

Sam sighs.

“Don’t start, Tara.” She warns.

Tara folds her arms.

“Just don’t come crying to us when she breaks your heart.” She says, a little pointed.

“Tara-” You say, but Sam just rolls her eyes.

“Noted. What do you want for dinner tonight? Cauliflower tacos or lentil spaghetti?”

Tara wrinkles her nose.

“Why don’t we make dinner for you, Sam?” You interject, hurriedly, before Tara can speak, “It’s the least we can do. You cook for us every night.”

Sam blinks, a little surprised.

And then she smiles.

“Alright,” She says, sounding happy, “That sounds nice.”

Sam disappears into her room.

Tara pulls out her phone, giving you a pointed look.

She taps a few buttons and then smiles, pleased with herself.

“Operation you-know-who-must-die is in action,” She mumbles, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand, “Now finish the quiz. I’m ready to take my prize.”

Tara aces the quiz.

Not a single question wrong.

In truth, there’s a part of you who had hoped she’d fail. But there’s another part of you positively gleeful she hadn’t.

Tara kisses you with a victorious grin, and then smacks your ass with her hand.

“Go get ready for me,” She says, voice low, “I’m all ready for you, baby.”

“It’s 4PM,” You say, biting you lip, “Maybe we should wait until tonight-”

Tara groans.

Your skin feels sensitive, tingly. The anticipation over the last few questions has you in a hot flush.

It feels exciting. New.

The fact that your girlfriend is preening only adds to the excitement.

“You promised,” She whines, “Stop moving the goalposts. You want me to beg? I’ll beg. Please, baby, let me fuck your ass-”

“Tara.” Sam groans as she emerges from her room, gym bag in hand, “Boundaries, we talked about this-”

Your face flushes red.

You’d die on the spot, if the option were possible. But Tara doesn’t miss a beat.

“I don’t think you can lecture me on boundaries considering the noises that were coming from your room this morning.” Tara says, curling an arm around your waist.

Sam huffs.

“I’m going to the gym,” She mumbles, “YN - something healthy for dinner tonight? Please?”

“You got it, Sam,” You mumble, face bright red.

But Sam is unperturbed. Nothing phases her, at this point. She leaves the apartment with a click of the front door.

“All alone,” Tara murmurs, looping her arms around your waist and squeezing your ass, hard, “So you can be as loud as you want, baby.”

You bite your lip.

“Let me get ready,” You mumble, “Meet you in the bedroom in a bit.”

When you’re showered and ready, you make your way into the bedroom.

Tara’s already laid out her arsenal.

Her strap-on, a bottle of lube longer than your forearm and a grin that tells you this almost certainly won’t be the first time she takes you like this.

You drop your towel.

And watch Tara’s gaze sink down.

“You’re so beautiful,” Tara murmurs, as she reaches you out to take her in your arms, “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby.”

She pulls you down for a searing kiss.

You’re nervous, but she always finds a way to soothe you. Firm hands on your hips, her mouth working wonders against your lips.

She pulls you on top of her, and then pulls back, nudging her nose against yours.

“We can stop anytime you want,” She promises, “If it’s too much, just say.”

She brushes a strand of rogue hair out of your eyes, “I love you, baby,” She whispers against your lips, “I want you like this, but if it hurts too much, just tell me. I won’t be annoyed. Promise.”

She seals her promise with a kiss.

You don’t doubt her for a second.

You capture her lips once more, arousal pooling in your stomach as you feel her against you.

You’ve denied her before, like this.

You wanted her to work for this.

But in the process, you’ve been denying yourself your own desires.

You slip your tongue into her mouth, grind down against her, ready to give her everything.

And then the front door slams open.

“Tara!” Sam calls, sounding anything but mellowed after her gym session, “Get your ass out here, now.”

The mood shatters. You pull away from Tara, head turning.

Sam sounds pissed.

Tara groans.

“Fuck off, Sam, I’m busy,” She says. She flips you onto your back, nudges herself between your legs.

Sam bangs on the door.

You almost jump out of your skin.

“Quinn told me everything,” She says, voice dangerous, “Get out here now or I’m coming in.”

Tara freezes.

Your heart jumps.

Hastily, Tara slides off you.

She fumbles around for a spare t-shirt and tosses it your way, running a hand through her hair. As if her worst nightmare has just come to realization.

“Tara!” Sam bangs once more.

“I’m coming, Jesus, Sam.” Tara says.

You pull the shirt over your head, fumble around for a pair of sleep shorts.

By the time Tara opens the door, Sam is standing behind it, red-faced, fury in her eyes.

She holds up her phone.

Although you’re squinting, you can still make out Tara’s text messages to Quinn.

“This is next level pathetic, Tara,” Sam says, voice hot, “Even for you.”

“Sam, I can explain-“ Says Tara. .

“You don’t need to explain,” Says Sam, “I know exactly what this is. You trying to prove Quinn is using me. But it didn’t work. She showed me the texts. So now what, Tara?”

“I was just trying to help,” Tara says, voice even.

Sam scoffs.

“You were trying to help?” Sam asks, “You can help me by minding your own business and staying out of it.”

“She’s using you, Sam,” Tara explodes, “It’s obvious to everyone except you. Why can’t you see it?”

“I don’t care if Quinn’s using me,” Says Sam, “I’m using her too, in my own way. That’s what we all do as people, isn’t it? Use each other? For love, for comfort, for sex? Why do you care so much that it’s her?”

“Why does it have to be her?” Growls Tara, “We hate her, Sam. We kicked her out of our apartment, for crying out loud. She tried to ruin our relationship-”

“But she didn’t,” Says Sam, eyes wild, “I have nothing, Tara, don’t you understand? Why couldn’t you let me have this?”

Tara blinks.

You swing your legs over the bed, move to Tara’s side.

“We were just trying to protect you, Sam-” You say, voice a little shaky.

Sam looks over at you.

“You don’t need to protect me,” She says, “Quinn’s fun. Quinn’s easy. I need a little bit of that in my life.”

“She’s certainly easy,” Says Tara, folding her arms.

Sam’s face flashes.

For a moment, you think she might actually hit Tara.

But then she clenches her jaw, and her shoulders draw.

“I’m going away for a while,” Says Sam, after a long moment, “I’m going to stay with Quinn. I can’t even - look at you right now, Tara.”

Tara blinks.

“I was trying to save you.” Says Tara, “You’re going to punish me for that?”

“It’s hardly a punishment,” Retorts Sam, “You don’t want me here anyway, you’ve made that much clear. Now you can do whatever you want.”

“And what about rent?” Asks Tara, voice hot.

Hurt flashes through Sam’s features. Your breath catches in your throat knowing Tara’s said the wrong thing. Again.

“Rent?” Sam asks, voice incredulous.

She scoffs.

And then turns.

You and Tara follow her out, a little hasty. Sam returns to her room and pries her suitcase from under her bedframe.

She starts tossing items in as Tara scrambles.

“No, wait, Sam- that isn’t what I meant,” Says Tara as Sam throws her suitcase onto her bed, “That’s not the most important part of this. YN and I want you to stay. Not just because of rent.”

Sam offers her a weak smile.

“You don’t need your big sister cramping your style,” She says, “Maybe I shouldn’t have come. Maybe I should have just got a second job in California and venmoed you the rent.”

“We’re glad you came, Sam,” You say, a little urgent, “We like living with you. It’s a small apartment, of course we all annoy each other. Tara annoys me everyday. And I annoy her too. That’s just how it is.”

Sam sighs.

“That isn’t how it should be,” She says, “I shouldn't be here, God. I shouldn’t be in your space. I should have left you both alone.”

Tara has a weird look on her face.

“Sam, don’t leave,” She asks, sounding crestfallen, “Please.”

“It’s for the best, Tara.” Answers Sam.

She zips her suitcase closed.

“If you leave me again, I can’t promise I’ll let you back in.” Tara says. Her eyes are hard, but her voice shakes.

Sam sighs.

She touches Tara’s shoulders, and then pulls her in for a long hug.

“I’ll be gone a week or two,” She says, “I’m not abandoning you, Tara. We just need some space from each other right now.”

“If you leave,” Tara repeats, “You’re not coming back.”

Sam smiles, a little sad.

“I won’t be gone long.” She says, “God, Tara, I'm just so mad."

She pauses, a moment.

"But I love you. Always."

Tara's face hardens.

And she doesn’t say it back.

Sam leaves.

And you deal with the fallout.

#all hers #qbmd #ghostface!tara #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #scream #scream vi #scream v #tara carpenter x yn #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter imagines #jenna ortega x yn #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #mine #fanfic

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