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eternlmoonshine · 2 months ago

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bloodstained pages ☽ spencer reid

summary: your regular library visits turn into something far more dangerous and intoxicating when you’re drawn to Spencer- brilliant, hypnotic, and always watching. pairing: vampire!spencer reid x reader warnings: descriptions of vampire feeding and blood loss, vampirism (duh), kinda possessive!spencer, making out?? wc: 2.2k masterlist. a/n: this is my first time writing fanfiction on tumblr oh boy here we go!! the last time i wrote fanfiction that i actually posted anywhere was when i was 12. five whole years ago. that’s insanity. i hope y’all enjoy <3

You first noticed him months ago.

The library was a place of quiet refuge for you, a sanctuary where you could disappear between pages and let the world outside slip away. But ever since you first saw him, it had become something else entirely.

He was always there.

A tall, handsome man with impossibly pale skin and sharp, intelligent eyes, seated in the same dimly lit corner near the classics. Always reading, always turning pages with an effortless grace that fascinated you.

You had tried striking up conversations- about books, of course. That was the only way you could approach him without sounding completely unhinged and borderline stalker-ish.

“Dostoevsky’s themes are compelling, but don’t you think he’s a bit overly philosophical?”

A pause. His eyes lit up with the barest flicker of amusement before he murmured, “Some would say that’s the appeal.”

And that was it.

No further words. Just a polite nod before he returned to his book, leaving you standing there, feeling very ridiculous.

It became a game you started playing all by yourself- seeing if you could get more than a few sentences out of him before he turned back to whatever book he was reading that day without another word.

Sometimes you managed to stretch those few sentences into a short-lived conversation. A brief discussion of Poe’s use of the macabre, a shared appreciation for the complexity of Borges, an exchange of thoughts on the poetry of Rilke. But it never lasted. He was polite, charming even, but he never lingered. Never gave you a second thought.

And yet, he was always there.

Until tonight.

Tonight was different.

The library was nearly empty, the air thick with the scent of old parchment and the faint musk of rain from outside. The faint pattering of rainwater, and the occasional sounds of pages being flipped were the only sign of life. You sat alone at a table, flipping absently through a book, but your thoughts weren’t on the words in front of you. They were on him.

And then-

“You have an interesting taste in literature.”

You nearly fell off your chair.

He had never spoken to you first before.

You looked up, startled, and there he was- standing before you, impossibly tall, hands resting lightly in the pockets of his dark coat. His expression was unreadable, but his voice…

It was smooth. Deep. Hypnotic in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

You blinked. “I- I could say the same for you.”

He tilted his head slightly, considering you. “You always come here late.”

“So do you,” you pointed out, gripping the edge of your book like an anchor.

He smiled- actually smiled, and something about it felt like a secret. Like you weren’t meant to see it. “I suppose I do.”

Your heart was hammering. You couldn’t tell if it was nerves or excitement or terror.

“I don’t think I’ve ever asked your name,” you said, your voice steadier than you expected.

His lips parted slightly, as if tasting the idea of answering. For a second, you thought that was it. That he was going to end the conversation there and walk away once more. But then, with the ghost of a smirk on his lips, he spoke.

“Spencer.”

You repeated it in your mind, rolling it over like a smooth stone between your fingers. It suited him.

“And you?” he asked, watching you in a way that felt deliberate. Intense.

You gave him your name, and the way he murmured it back sent a rush of warmth through you.

The conversation should have ended there. You expected it to end there. Like all the other times.

But it didn’t.

Instead, he sat down across from you, unprompted, folding his hands together on the table as if he had all the time in the world.

And then he flirted with you.

Not in the overt, obvious way most men did. No, Spencer’s words were subtle, woven into the rhythm of your conversation so naturally that it almost didn’t feel like flirting at all.

“You have a habit of biting your lip when you read something you like,” he noted casually.

Your face burned. “I- what?”

“I’ve noticed,” he continued, unblinking and unbothered by your flustered reaction. “It’s an endearing trait.”

You opened your mouth, closed it again, dumbfounded, then finally let out a soft laugh. “Do you make a habit of observing people this closely?”

“Only the ones who interest me.”

You should not have felt as giddy as you did.

Something about him was utterly magnetic, pulling you in despite the logical part of your brain warning you that there was something off.

And then, as if he could sense your curiosity, he leaned in slightly.

“Tell me…” His voice dropped to a near whisper, his fingers tapping idly against the cover of your book. “Do you believe in the supernatural?”

You frowned. “What kind of question is that?”

“A serious one.”

You studied him for a moment. He wasn’t joking. There was something unreadable in his gaze, something… ancient and knowing.

“I guess I’ve never thought about it much,” you admitted. “But I… wouldn’t rule it out.”

His lips twitched. “Good.”

There was a pause. Then, in a voice so quiet it barely reached you, he said-

“I’m not human.”

You felt your heart skip a beat.

For a moment, you thought he was joking. But the way he looked at you- the utter, unwavering certainty in his expression as he awaited your response- told you he wasn’t.

You should have been afraid.

You should have pulled back, laughed it off, left and then talked to your friends about the crazy guy you just ran into.

But you didn’t.

Because deep down, you already knew.

“You’re serious,” you breathed.

Spencer exhaled, leaning back. “I am.”

A long, almost suffocating silence stretched between you.

“…You’re a vampire.”

It wasn’t a question.

A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips. “Yes.”

Your heart pounded, but not with fear. With something darker, something exhilarating.

“How old are you?”

His brows lifted slightly, as if he hadn’t expected that to be your first question. “Older than I look.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He chuckled softly. “No, I suppose it isn’t.”

You should have run. You should have felt something besides this dangerous pull toward him.

But instead, you tilted your chin, meeting his gaze with unwavering certainty.

“Have you ever-” You hesitated. Would he walk away if you asked the question that plagued you so deeply? Or would he indulge your curiosities?

“Have you ever hunted humans?”

Something in his expression shifted- something raw and dark and hungry.

His fingers curled against the table, as if he was bracing himself for an adverse reaction, his jaw tensing. “Not in a long time.”

You inhaled sharply. “Do you want to?”

The air between you crackled with something unspoken.

His eyes darkened. “Do you know what you’re asking?”

“I think I do.”

A long pause. Then- so suddenly it stole your breath completely- Spencer was in front of you, close enough that you could feel the unnatural chill radiating from him.

His fingers brushed over your wrist, tracing the delicate line of your pulse.

“You shouldn’t tempt me,” he murmured softly, his eyes boring into yours.

Your breath hitched. “But I want to.”

His eyes snapped to yours, and for the first time, you saw it- true, unfiltered hunger.

He exhaled sharply, as if trying to control himself. Trying to hold himself back. “If I do this… I won’t be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be.”

That was all it took.

In one swift motion, he pulled you into his arms, his lips grazing your throat, his breath cool against your skin. Your pulse thundered, anticipation and desire twisting into something near unbearable-

And then-

A sharp, intoxicating pain.

You gasped as his fangs pierced your skin, the sensation unlike anything you had ever felt before. It was like fire and ice, pleasure and pain, a pull so deep that it left you breathless.

Spencer groaned softly against your throat, his grip on your jaw tightening as he drank. And God, you never wanted him to stop.

Spencer ripped himself away from you with a sharp, ragged inhale, staggering backward like he’d been burned. His pupils were blown wide, his chest heaving, lips glistening with your blood. He looked wrecked- completely undone and trembling with immense effort to restrain himself.

Your body swayed at the sudden loss of contact, your pulse sluggish and hazy, but your mind was razor-sharp, honed in on him and the way his hunger still lingered in the air between you.

“Spencer,” you breathed, taking a step toward him.

He jolted back, almost recoiling from you. “No.” His voice was rough, like it was being torn from deep within his chest. “I can’t.”

Your brows furrowed. “Yes, you can.”

His jaw clenched so tightly you thought it might shatter. “You don’t get it.”

“I do.” You took another step forward, emboldened by the way his fingers twitched at his sides, like he was fighting every instinct in his body to reach for you again. “I know you won’t hurt me.”

Something dark and dangerous flashed across his face. “I am hurting you.”

“I feel fine,” you challenged, tilting your head, exposing the fresh wound to his hungry gaze. “And I want you to take more.”

Spencer let out a sound between a growl and a curse, his hands balling into fists. “I said no.”

The dominance in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and the moment you caught his eyes- dark, wild, filled with something primal- you felt your knees go weak.

His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. “I will not drain you.”

You swallowed hard. He wasn’t asking for permission. He was telling you, leaving no room for questions.

Your lips parted, your breath uneven as the tension between you stretched tighter than a bowstring.

Then, before you could say another word, he moved.

One second he was standing feet away, the next he had you pinned against a bookshelf, his body flush against yours and his hands gripping your waist with an intensity that was sure to leave bruises.

“You make it impossible to control myself,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and sending chills down your spine.

Your head spun. “Then don’t.”

He groaned, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts. “You’re insufferable.”

You smirked. “And yet you keep coming back for more.”

Spencer let out a dark chuckle, then kissed you.

It was everything- desperate, consuming, a collision of need, and restraint unraveling at the seams. His hands roamed across your body- one tangled in your hair, the other gripping your waist, pulling you so close you could feel the coolness of his body against your own overheated skin.

Your fingers clawed at his coat, tugging, needing more, needing him.

He nipped at your bottom lip, eliciting a quiet gasp from you, and the sound seemed to undo him. His grip tightened, his kiss deepened, and for a moment, you thought he might actually lose control- might give in, sink his fangs into you all over again and drain you completely.

But just as quickly as he had taken, he slowed.

The hunger shifted. The urgency softened.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his fingers brushing over your jaw with reverence rather than desperation.

“You think this is just about feeding,” he murmured, studying your face.

You blinked up at him, dazed. “Isn’t it?”

His lips curled into something almost fond. “No, sweetheart.” His voice was soft, but his eyes were intense. “I want more than that.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Spencer exhaled slowly, his hand sliding to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly over your cheekbone.

“I don’t just want your blood.” His voice was steady now, certain. “I want you.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

Spencer- brilliant, terrifyingly beautiful, otherworldly Spencer- wanted you.

Your lips parted, but your words failed you.

He smirked at your stunned silence. “You had so much to say a minute ago.”

You swallowed thickly. “You- you caught me off guard.”

His thumb traced your bottom lip, his gaze dropping there for half a second before meeting your eyes once again.

“Let me take you out,” he murmured. “Properly.”

Your brain short-circuited.

“You mean like-”

“A date,” he confirmed, tilting his head. “Is that such a shocking concept?”

“Yes,” you blurted. “No- I mean, yes it’s shocking, no I’m not opposed.”

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head. “You are infuriatingly cute when you’re flustered.”

You made a sound of protest, but he only smiled- a real, genuine smile that softened his sharp edges in such a way that it made your stomach flip.

“So?” he prompted, his hand still cupping your face.

Your lips curled, and for once, you didn’t feel the need to fight him on this.

“I’d love to.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #vampire spencer reid #criminal minds fluff #my writing ✧#spencer reid ✧

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 5 months ago

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ೇ be my baby― spencer reid .ᐟ

pairing .ᐟ spencer reid x plus size vampire!reader

summary | after centuries of isolation, your familiar forces you to finally leave the confines of you manor, and a nice surprise awaits you.

warnings | mentions of past vampire hunting, hints at isolation and depression, mentions of death, the reader is a REALLY old vampire so she kinda doesn't know how modern day romancing works, spencer is confused but kind of flattered.

wordcount | 1083

۶ৎ a/n .ᐟ | HIHI!!! this was an original idea that i refused to sit on, so it just came out of my brain as i went. there's some random vampire lore but honestly it's just vampire reader being smitten with loser reid sigh (please ask me about them).

— links .ᐟ masterlist | ao3

You don't really remember the last time you've talked to a human.

It was a chosen isolation of course, because the last time your kind had been out, you were hunted practically for sport. So, you weren't very enthusiastic to see the world.

That was hundreds of years ago, though, vampires had long been dismissed by new generations, so you could go out if you wanted to, and your familiar, Knox, was very hell-bent on reminding you.

Sure, you've been cooped up in your home in the woods for some time now, but you had everything that you needed. You had a good food supply (i.e., the wide selection of animals), your piano, and your cat. That was all you needed.

And yet somehow you found yourself sitting on a bench during broad daylight in a human park.

You were one of the few vampires left in your faction, so the sun wasn't a bother. Your skin would get mildly irritated, but that was it really.

Your abilities were all based on your age, you had grown out of the sensitive infancy that was being a newly sired vampire.

It helped that your place of seating was covered by a tree, though.

You nervously pet Knox who was sitting in your lap, his tail swishing lazily without a care in the world.

For a creature who served a nocturnal being, he sure was fond of the day time.

He basked in the way the sun hit his pitch black fur just right, the rays warming up parts of his skin that you could not.

You weren't very cold anymore, sometimes cool to the touch, but never freezing, like a dead body.

Your lips were pressed together in a thin line, and you were sure you didn't look very approachable, especially not in your all black get up.

You were attune with the times, of course. Trends were changing, there was technology now, and things weren't as hopeless as they were back then, but there were just some things that remained the same.

“You are too stiff.” Knox stated simply. “You look as if you are constipated. I took you out here to make friends, not to hide from them.”

To anyone, his words sounded like a meow, but to you, it was like nails on a chalkboard.

Your fingers paused their stroking, and he swatted at them, and you huffed, but yielded to his bratty yet silent demand.

“I have already told you, Knox. I am not interested in making friends with humans.” You swallowed the dryness that was in your throat.

For the first time in years you had been around human blood, and a lot of it, so it was a bit overwhelming. Not so much so where you felt like attacking, but there was an underlying sweetness in the air.

“It doesn't matter what you are or are not interested in. You are lonely. It is as simple as that.” He continues, “As your familiar, it is my job to help you.” He stretched. “So –” Knox finally settles again, “This is me helping.”

“I am sure it is.” You state with a roll of your eyes.

It wasn't like being here was bad per se, just different, unfamiliar. You were one of the very few immortals that feared the unknown.

Vampires always thought they had all the time in the world, and that had led them to their inevitable ends. You know yours will come one day, by your own hand, or someone else's.

“Look, if you don not wish to stay here, I will not force you; but we will be back again –”

Knoxs’ chirping fell on deaf ears as you smelled the most pungent thing in your life. You could practically taste it in your mouth, it was heavy on your tongue. Heavenly.

Your keen eyes instantly shot to your left where a lanky man was approaching you, albeit hesitantly.

“Excuse me, but could I sit here?” He gestured to the spot next to you, and you just blinked. You zeroed in on his pulse before shifting your gaze to the wood.

“Sure.”

Your reply was breathless, and he gave you a closed lip smile. It was… fastly endearing to say the least.

“The cat that brings bad luck.” You heard the handsome man say from beside you. You blink again.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your cat.” He motions down to Knox with a quick dip of his head. “Usually people associate black cats with bringing bad luck, though it's obviously just a superstition.”

He sounds awkward, and you could see the self-deprivation written all over his face, as though he knew he had said something wrong. You didn't like it.

“Are they now?” You hummed.

You looked down at an intrigued Knox, who was caught between watching you and the human.

“I suppose it makes sense.” You say with a small smile. You bring your nails up to scratch behind his ears. “He may not bring me bad luck, but he sure is a lot to deal with. Very chatty.”

Knox hisses and swats at your hand again.

The human looks alarmed by the action of your cat, and somewhat confused.

“Cats don't normally relax that fast after showing distress.” The human says, perplexed. “Strange. He must be a special cat.” There's the purring.

‘Egotistical’ You wanted to say.

“I…” He gulps. “What's your name?”

You finally force yourself to meet his gaze, and you are absolutely love struck.

He smells divine; he has the features and the intelligence to rival any of your ancestors before you.

You state your name. “You?”

“Dr. Spencer Reid – but… but you can just call me Spencer! The Dr is just a formality…” You cut off his rambling by accident, “You are just magnificent.”

Spencer chokes on his words.

“I - I’m sorry?”

“I said you are magnificent.” It has been a long time since you've been in the public eye, but this was how one made their intentions clear, no?

“I… thank you.” Spencer flushes a beautiful hue of red, and you can hear and smell the blood moving to his cheeks.

“Why of course.”

Things go quiet for a moment, maybe even a little bit awkward, but you were prepared for that. You were vaguely aware that wooing now was different to how it was back then.

“So, tell me more about these superstitions.”

Spencer visibly brightens up at that.

Maybe the human world wasn't so bad after all.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

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ralvezfanatic · 1 year ago

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Ralvez but Spencer is a vampire who tries his best to not drink blood for as long as possible because he doesn't want to hurt anyone, which always ends up with him getting sick

Luke who finds out, and then offers to let Spencer drink his blood because he doesn't want his friend to get die, "or whatever happens to vampires when they don't get enough blood"

Spencer refusing saying that its a terrible idea and he doesn't want to hurt Luke, and he can manage without blood for a long time, and he has a gokd way to get it when he needs (his way is definitely not safe and he risks his health getting it)

In reality Spencer really wants to drink Luke's blood because it smells so so good to him, and also he would love to bite Luke because he has a small crush on him

But he's scared he wouldn't be able to control himself and end up either turning or killing Luke, which are two things he doesn't want

But Luke desperately wants Spencer to suck his blood because he finds his fangs hot because he wants to help him so he stops getting sick and grows tired of Spencer refusing !!!

Luke barging into Spencers house after he gets sick once more and locking them in his bedroom until Spencer accepts drinks his blood

To Luke's dismay, Spencer ends up drinking his blood from his wrist and not his neck, but it's still a win for him !!

this counts as an imagine right ?

Taglist: @starch1ldz, @the-gregster, @jaden-reid, @lover-of-books-and-tea, @cumulo-stratus, @fuckingstrange | Add yourself here !

#this was inspired by #a fic i read a long time ago #unfortunately i dont remember what ship it was to look for it #𖤐 rambles #criminal minds #luke alvez #spencer reid #ralvez #vampires #vampire!au #Vampire!Spencer Reid #ralvez imagine #vampire imagine #criminal minds imagine #i have a thing #for vampires #so... yeah #spencer reid x luke alvez

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incorrect-ralvez · 1 year ago

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Derek: You... you saved me. You're not a beast at all. YOU'RE A HERO, AN UGLY UGLY UGLY HERO!

Vampire!Reid: Call me ugly again, and I will eat you.

#vampire!reid has leaked onto this blog now >:3 #cm incorrect quotes #criminal minds incorrect quotes #incorrect criminal minds #incorrect criminal minds quotes #criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #vampire!reid #vampire!spencer #vampire!spencer reid

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enderlovez · 5 months ago

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Bloody

Spencer Reid x Vampire Reader WORD COUNT: 737

Summary: Doctor Spencer Reid is married to a vampire.

Content Warning: mentions of blood drinking, reader can go out in the sun but it's uncomfortable, reader has red eyes, reader is immortal and a few centuries old, brief mentions of murder and stalking

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

Spencer's not entirely sure how he ended up in this situation in the first place—you clinging to him like he's an oversized teddy bear—but he knows he wouldn't want it any other way.

Having a hungry vampire with her face pressed right up against his jugular should be enough to have him cringing away. And admittedly his pulse is racing, but for an entirely different reason, as his fingers absentmindedly draw shapes on the soft, exposed skin of your hip.

If someone had told Spencer three years ago that he would be happily married to a vampire he would have laughed in their face.

Yet here he is, holding his beautiful wife in his arms, and he can say for sure that he's never been happier.

How the two of you met? Well, that's something for another day, but to make a long story short, you found him while he was seconds away from being stabbed in the back of the neck by a psycho stalker.

"You awake?" he asks in an almost inaudible voice. Spencer feels the faint brush of your lips against his neck as you nod, leaving the softest of kisses against the delicate skin. It makes a shiver run down his spine, and he knows you can hear the increase of his heartrate.

Though you don't make any noise, he can feel the cool air on his neck as you let out a silent chuckle.

"Still hungry?" he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, his fingers pausing their tracing for just a moment.

You pull back slightly, your crimson eyes peeking up to meet his hazel ones, glinting faintly in the dim light. There's a softness there, a warmth that doesn't quite match the traditional tales of your kind, and one that only Spencer can see.

"Not for blood," you reply, voice laced with teasing affection. "I'm more interested in the genius who's letting me hog all the blankets, even when he knows I don't need them in the slightest."

Spencer lets out a soft chuckle, brushing a loose strand of your hair back behind your ear. "I think 'genius' might be overselling it. Most people would call this situation irrational, maybe even reckless."

Neither of you mention how nobody would even believe him, if he were to tell then he's married to a vampire.

"Most people don't know you like I do," you counter, resting your head back onto him, this time on his chest. "You're not reckless, Spencer. You're... curious. And kind. That's why you didn't run when you figured out what I was."

He smiles faintly, the memory of the night you met briefly flashing through his mind. It wasn't every day you met someone who saved your life and then casually admitted they'd (technically) been dead for centuries. "I'd like to think the profiling helped with that," he jokes.

"Oh, definitely," you tease, drawing lazy patterns on his shirt with your pointer finger. "Nothing screams 'trustworthy' like a man reciting the statistics about violent crime to a vampire."

He laughs softly, and you join him for a moment, the sound mingling in the otherwise quiet room. Spencer's laughter fades as his eyes drift back to yours again, his expression growing thoughtful. "Does it still bother you?" he asks gently.

You know what he's referring to without needing clarification—the sunlit mornings he spends alone most of the time, the quiet ache of being different, the things you've done to survive.

"Sometimes," you admit, your voice quieter now. "But being with you makes it easier. You remind me that there's light, even for... someone like me."

Spencer leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "You're my light, too," he says softly. "Even if you do steal all the blankets."

You smile against his chest, your pointed teeth peeking out ever so slightly. "I think I'll keep you around, Doctor Reid. You're pretty good at this whole 'marriage' thing."

"Good," he murmurs, holding you tighter, "because I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me."

"I think it's more like you're stuck with me," you correct gently, "you know, considering I'm the predator in this scenario. You're my prey."

His fingers resume their movements on your hip. He doesn't say anything, know that one way or another, you'll find a way to counter anything he says. Being alive for hundreds of years has made you good at things like that.

#spencer reid x girlfriend reader #criminal minds fic #spencer reid oneshot #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x vampire reader #vampire #spencer reid x you #spencer reid vampire #enderlovez

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saintfaux · 1 year ago

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There is no stronger force than that of a girl’s desperation to write about her male hyperfixation.

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vee6lolz · 8 months ago

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𝖇𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝖍𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝖇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬.

summary; after falling in love with spencer reid, you navigate the challenges that come with your relationship. While you cherish your moments together, the rough patches can be hard to ignore. One day, in an effort to find clarity, you go shopping and unexpectedly discover something world shattering. But before you can share the news with Spencer, he comes home with a shocking revelation that could change everything between you.

cw!!; +18 content, minors dni!, spencer reid x reader, angst, cliffhanger ending, breakups, mentions of drug use, mentions emetophobia warning; vomiting -- mentions of pregnancy -- Y/N HAS A GIRL KISSER BSF !

. w/c: 4.1k -- don't forget to like / reblog !! this is not proof read + english is not my first language

You and Spencer had been privately dating for seven months. At first, it was exciting. sneaking around, leaving parties early to go hook up in the bathroom, the birthday sex, apology sex, apology for apologizing with sex sex, it was easy, it was simple—you both met through a party he and his team was invited to by your best friend Ciara, who was friends with the one and only Penelope Garcia. you both got to talking and by the end of the night, you were snuggled up in his bed with his dick in your mouth. and he learned two things that night. 1. he had never had head that brought him so much ecstasy. and two, by the way your outgoing demeanor fit perfectly with being his more shy and non-direct, you were the one for him and he would've been a fool to let you slip through his fingers. those late-night study sessions, stolen kisses in dimly lit hallways, and quiet moments over coffee made you feel like the luckiest person in the world. but the moment that you hit the three month mark, everything went downhill. and usually, at six months, its supposed to be good again, right? wrong.

the past few months had turned into a whirlwind of arguments. It felt like every time you talked, it spiraled into a fight over something that should have been minor. “You don’t understand what I’m going through, Spencer!” you yelled one evening after a tough day at work where he seemed more focused on the case than on how you were feeling. “I do, understand [y/n] I just don't care. Not everything has to be about you.” that night, you both had shouted over each other until the early hours of the morning, hearts racing, voices raised, and emotions running high. the tension felt suffocating. and to ease it you tried to have makeup sex, and he started an argument while literally inside you because he felt like you were faking orgasms and doing it in a obvious way to make him feel bad; you were.

It wasn’t just work stress that fueled the fire; it was the pressure of hiding your hardships relationship from your colleagues, the weight of lying to your friends, and the constant fear of him leaving. and the fear of you leaving for him only made him resent you more. sometimes, it felt like you were living a double life, and you didn’t know how to bridge the gap between your love for Spencer and the isolation that secrecy brought. the make-up moments after the fights were fleeting, filled with hugs and quiet apologies as you tried to mend the shaky ground you were standing on. you’d find yourselves wrapped in each other’s arms, promises lingering in the air that things would change, but deep down, you both knew nothing had really shifted.

but today, everything felt heavier than usual. you had woken up to yet another silent treatment from spencer, both of you too stubborn to reach out to each other first. the anxiety had burrowed deep in your chest, making it hard to breathe. you could sense it—Ciara had noticed. when she came over, she was met with a hurried and agitated spence who only muttered a cold greeting before walking out the door as fast as he opened it for her. her footsteps where light and quick, making her way towards your bedroom where she heard retching and coughing.

you spit into the toilet bowl, groaning in discomfort as everything you had last week came back to haunt you. you looked up at Ciara as she held your hair back, getting her fingers tangled as she took a moment to try her best to untangle them without scalping you. You sat there in front with your head down as you dry gagged, and once you were safe, you reached up and flu shed the toilet.

Ciara rubbed your back for a little before pulling your head to rest on her chest, planting sweet kisses on your forehead. you giggle at the sensation and make tsk sounds. “If you were a man,” you muttered, to which she rolls her eyes at you and lets you go with a smile, helping you stand up, she runs some water so you pat your mouth with it and spit out all the yucky residue left over. she starts asking questions and all you can think back at was this morning. it pained you and you felt your heart sink the more you thought back at it, you realize that him expressing his feelings, yelling, insulting, or even cursing you would've been better. he just left you, in silence. he didn't acknowledge you, and it just made you feel terrible. you looked at Ciara, overcome with emotions which got you a confused look. “What's going on with you--”

“He didn't even look at me, cee.” You muttered as tears filled your eyes uncontrollably. your emotions overwhelmed you as you melted into her arms, you were holding her incredibly tight, she probably wouldn't be able to breathe if you gave her an oxygen tank. She scrambled over her words trying to find away to not pass out from the lack of blood going to her brain because you were quite literally blocking any blood flow possible. She tapped your back and you released your death grip, to which she exhaled heavily.

“Who, What? What are we talking about?”. you stared up at her with a expression of depression, not moving your lips to answer her question. It gave her the answer alone. “That's not... like him.”. Scoffing, you shook your head and wiped your tears, your mood switching from self-pity to pure and undeniable anger. “It's exactly, like him. Actually.”. She tried her best to calm you down but you couldn't, you just walked out of the bathroom and fell face first on the bed, screaming and letting out all of your frustration on his cotton sheets. You started mumbling out of intense anger, and Ciara just stood there, flinching with every curse that flew through your lips as if you were going to reach backwards and bite her.

It took you twenty-and-some minutes to calm down. It took you three to go back to being sad and depressed. Your mood swings were seriously giving her whiplash. You sat up and heaved, sobbed, flew your arms around like a toddler. Ciara sat with you and let you sob on her chest until you start hyperventilating, she blew on your face so you could catch your breathe, shushing you to soothe your tears. Your brain felt fuzzy, your senses has softened.

The only thing that you felt was the immense pounding on your head you couldn't help but feel. “How about we go on a little drive, yeah?” you looked up at her with your red eyes glistening was a tear fell down your cheek, you nodded. you needed fresh air. “Yeah?” She spoke in a soft voice, kissing your head. “Alright go put on some clothes ill be out here,”

Ciara sat behind the wheel, the engine humming softly as she pulled away from spencer's place. The cool breeze wafted through the slightly open window, sending a refreshing shiver through you. You let it wash over you, momentarily grounding you in the present. Still, your mind felt fuzzy, caught in a haze that blurred your thoughts and emotions. It was as if you were floating, untethered from reality, with everything around you blurring into a muddled backdrop.

the streets rushed by, and while the world outside was alive with the chatter of people and the vibrant colors of storefronts, you found yourself lost in your own silence. You stared at the trees lining the road, their branches dancing in the breeze, but even their movement felt distant and out of reach. each passing moment felt like an echo, reverberating through your mind but leaving no traces of clarity.

Ciara’s was talking, filled with energy and it made you feel oh, so worse because you were not listening. “No, dude, I'm being so serious. I told her that she can either get her shit together and stop acting like a little kid or she can pack her shit and leave because I've had enough crazy girlfriends to know it is not for the fucking weak.” you barely registered the words. they floated in one ear and out the other, your focus remaining hazy. you shifted in your seat slightly, trying to push the swirling emotions away, yet they clung to you like a shadow.

“You’d think we were fighting we were fighting over me burning her house down, no. A miss call, a singular miss call and I called her back immediately. And of course, she chose to get her act together because... honestly, would you leave me?” she joked, grinding in her seat to pop her ass a little;

the corners of your mouth twitched, but you didn’t have the energy to respond; the effort felt monumental. As the scenery shifted from commercial buildings to the broader expanses of the mall, you caught yourself wishing you could feel that lightness again. The breeze slipping through the window felt nice, but every now and then, a wave of discomfort coursed through you, reminding you of the things you were trying to forget.

Ciara continued talking, sharing the latest gossip, her voice a steady stream of sound that mingled with the whoosh of passing cars. “and after that, she tried to hookup with me as an “apology”. if she could lick my pussy a couple times and I'm going to immediately forgive her... she's right.”

Still, you remained silent, lost in thought. The feelings swirling within you were too tangled to unravel—the confusion, the sadness, the weight of it all. It felt heavy, and as you drove closer to the mall, the world outside turned brighter, but for you, it remained shrouded in dimness.

As Ciara pulled into the parking lot, the chaotic colors of the mall surrounded you. She parked the car, casting a glance your way. “Alright, no talk of Spencer with the little dick while we're here alright?”

You nodded slowly, but your mind was still a storm of thoughts and emotions that had yet to settle. The sounds of laughter and footsteps filled the air as you stepped out of the car, but even amidst the noise, you felt like you were still floating, caught between what was real and what was just a distraction.

“There's no reason to lie to make me feel better,”, she laughed.

as you and Ciara stepped into the mall, the vibrant atmosphere enveloped you like a cocoon, yet the comfort it should have provided seemed out of reach. the air hummed with energy: laughter echoed against polished floors, the shuffling of bags blended into an excited chorus, and the enticing aromas of popcorn, pretzels, and fried food wafted through the space, each scent calling to a desire for comfort that you just couldn’t find.

you glanced around, taking in the kaleidoscope of people—the families with cheerful children, groups of friends chatting animatedly as they moved, and couples entwined in conversation. Yet, as the cheerful masses moved past, a heavy discontent settled within your chest, a constant nagging feeling that wouldn’t let up. Your thoughts were tangled, fighting the urge to not talk about spencer.

the urges whooped your ass.

“Ugh, I can’t believe how dramatic Spencer has been lately,” you began, shaking your head as you ambled towards the escalator up to victoria's secret each step feeling heavier than the last. You reached for a sleek top on a nearby rack, your fingers brushing the fabric as you stated, “He didn't even tell me what his problem was this time, Ciara. He's like a fucking kid,”

Ciara nodded, her attention shifting between you and the vibrant clothes on display. “He's exactly like Manny. You know if you were a lesbian, I'm pretty sure you would've been with her by now.”

"Har-har." you let out a fake laugh, pulling the top closer to you and inspecting it in the harsh fluorescent lights. “and its not like I don't fuck with him. Of course I do, but its only okay when I do it! and i never do it first.”

She stared at you.

“Okay, I mostly never do it first.”

you stepped into the fitting rooms, pulling aside the curtain with a little more force than necessary. Ciara leaned against the wall outside, concern evident in her eyes. “Well, it sounds like he’s really going through something. I mean the last time he had a girlfriend was years ago, plus she did get shot in front of him. Maybe, just maybe... he needs time to adjust to having you.”

“It's been 6 months, how much time does he need.” you admitted, slipping into a pair of jeans. “I’m trying to support him, but at the same time, it feels like whenever I need support I'm the 'crazy' one.”

you spun in front of the mirror, checking the fit, and briefly appreciated the outfit, but the satisfaction was fleeting. You couldn’t shake the gnawing frustration and worry that lingered in your mind. After trying on a few more items, you settled on a cozy sweater that draped nicely over your shoulders and a pair of jeans that tugged your ass and thighs perfectly.

Stepping out of the fitting room, you caught sight of Ciara’s bright smile—a thumbs-up that fueled a flicker of confidence despite the dark cloud of your thoughts. “You look great! Food?” she chirped, her enthusiasm piercing through your fog. “I look like I got fat, but, yes.” you giggled.

“Yeah, only in the right places.” she replied, leaving a quick smack on your ass. the idea of food felt foreign to you, your appetite making you uneasy. and the more you thought about it, you weren't really prone to gaining weight. in the last eight weeks, you've gained almost seven pounds. even as you walked toward the food court, the excited chatter and laughter felt like a cruel reminder of the happiness you were struggling to hold onto with Spencer.

as you navigated through the chaos of the food court, the aromas wrapped around you, each scent competing for your attention. You scanned the options—pizza, burgers, Asian stir-fry, sizzling hot dogs—but as much as your stomach wanted to respond, it remained cold and distant.

Ciara and you eventually settled on a plate of asian food. You found a table, and despite the enticing food in front of you, the heaviness in your chest pulled you down, dimming your appetite further.

while Ciara was talking about her sex life, your own thoughts lingered on Spencer: his hands, the way his mind worked like a finely tuned machine, how he would

“when I tell you she had me bent in ways I can't say out loud because I would be put on some kind of list--” Ciara’s words finally broke through the fog in your mind, and you looked at her, your voice barely above a whisper, “I feel… weird.”

Ciara’s smile faded, concern etching itself across her face. “What do you mean weird? ”

The discomfort swelled inside you as the weight of your stomach pressed down further. “I don’t know. It’s just everything… ugh. I really don’t feel good.” The admission felt heavy on your tongue, yet fear flooded through you, mingling with confusion and anxiety.

“Hey, [y/n] uh--” Ciara said, her voice laced with concern as she leaned closer, trying to draw you back into the moment. “Breathe, okay? Just uh--”

her voice did no help, the world around you began to tilt, the bright lights and laughing voices tuned out as your vision began to blur. A rising wave of dizziness crashed over you, swallowing every sense until you felt on the verge of vanishing into the void of darkness.

before you could utter another word, the world slipped away in an instant—darkness encased you, quieting the chaos of the food court and pressing down into a silence that felt weighty yet freeing. You couldn’t tell if you were floating or falling, but nothing remained except an overwhelming absence -- and then your body hit the floor.

“[y/n]? [Y/N]! Someone help, please!” Ciara begged and yelled out as she breathed on your face, checking your pulse. you were breathing, that's all that mattered. being in school for nursing, really wasn't doing her any justice at the moment.

three-hundred-thirty-eight minutes. that's how long it took for you to wake up.

you gradually regained consciousness to the muted buzz of light and occasional distant sounds filtering through the haze of your mind. blinking several times, you squinted against the warm, yellow light spilling through the curtains in the hospital room. the glow felt too harsh against your eyelids, and as you turned your head slightly, a wave of dizziness swept over you.

a sharp ache spiked through your temples, and you instinctively raised a hand to your forehead, feeling the softness of the pillows beneath you. your body felt heavy, soreness settling deep in your muscles—each small movement sent prickles of discomfort shooting through your limbs. you groaned softly, the sound a mere whisper in the stillness of the room.

The room itself was a comforting chaos, the machines beeping, the flowy blue curtains. But it was the smell that truly caught your attention: a mix of treacle sweetness from ciara's half-eaten candy bar on the nightstand, which you grabbed over and took a chunk out of. the clean scent of freshly laundered sheets, and just a hint of the medication. it was oddly grounding, and for a moment, it eased the nausea rising in your stomach like a tidal wave.

taking a deep breath, you lay still, attempting to collect your thoughts. fragments of memory flickered through your mind—little moments of laughter and joy interspersed with the anxiety that had been consuming you before everything went dark. You remembered the bustling vibe of the mall, the annoying feeling of your heart racing, and a sudden wave of dizziness that had pulled you down. panic surged through you as you recalled Ciara’s frantic voice, calling for help when you collapsed.

“there's, no way I actually fainted.” you murmured to yourself, the thought sending a shiver down your spine. “ew, that's so corny.” you felt a flush of heat creep up your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and concern. you turned to ciara, whose face was unchanged the entire time. her face stayed the same -- she looked horrified. concern. something was wrong with you, and you had a really bad feeling about what. it wasn't stress, it wasn't spencer. it was something else.

thirty-eight minutes. thats how long it took for you to find out.

ciara stayed by your side, her face didn't dare to flinch. a nurse stepped quietly into the room, her hesitant movements breaking the fragile quiet that enveloped the space. the atmosphere felt charged, and you could sense the shift immediately, your heart beginning to pound. the light from the window framed ciara, washing over her in a way that felt almost ethereal. as her expression morphed from concern into something more serious, an unsettling tension settled between you, pinning you both in a moment that seemed to stretch on.

when the nurse began to deliver the news her words flowed without sound, each gesture amplifying the weight of what she had to say. you felt your breath hitch as a wave of uncertainty crashed over you, the reality of her news unsettling sinking in like a stone. the room, once familiar and comforting, suddenly felt small and suffocating, the walls closing in as vivid memories backtracked through your mind—laughter, plans, and dreams that now teetered on the brink of change. the warmth of the space became oppressive as your heart raced, fear mingling with disbelief.

in an instant, the safety of your world unraveled, and the gravity of ciara's presence anchored you to an unsettling truth. the air was thick with unvoiced questions, your heart heavy with the weight of responsibility and the unknown. as the silence roared in your ears, every breath turned bittersweet, a reminder of how everything that had once seemed so certain was now tinged with complexity. you stood there, caught between the past and an uncertain future, realizing in that moment that everything had changed.

fifteen minutes. that's how long it took to get discharged.

the car glided smoothly along the dark road, the headlights casting fleeting beams of light onto the pavement, illuminating the otherwise shadowy world outside. ciara sat in the drivers seat seat, her silhouette a quiet presence lost in thought, her silence wrapping the cabin in an almost palpable stillness. each soft breath she took seemed to mirror the steady thrum of the engine, but the weight of her unspoken emotions filled the air, creating a tension that was hard to ignore. the familiar contours of the landscape slipped by in an undulating blur, trees lining the road like silent sentinels.

as the miles rolled on, your mind began to wander, seeking distraction in the rhythmic pattern of passing objects. you started to count the trees, the sturdy trunks becoming a makeshift anchor in the sea of swirling thoughts. one after another, the arboreal figures flickered past, offering a sense of solace as if each counted tree marked a moment of time that moved further away from the hospital. the darkened silhouettes blurred together, yet you found a strange comfort in the repetitive task, allowing your focus to drift into the rhythm of your surroundings.

six hours, thirty-one minutes. and not a single call from spencer.

as the car glided to a stop in the driveway, the familiar surroundings of your home greeted you with an unsettling mix of comfort and anxiety. the sky was turning shades of purple and orange, a vivid sunset framing the moment. ciara turned off the engine and sat in silence for a moment, her eyes fixed on the front door, as if gauging its significance. you both understood that what waited beyond that threshold was life-changing.

you unbuckled your seatbelt and took a deep breath, your mind swirling with thoughts you had been trying to organize all day. today had felt unending, a series of moments stacked upon one another, each one urging you toward this very conclusion. the weight of what you needed to reveal pressed heavily on your chest, and you were acutely aware of the time you had spent wrestling with your emotions.

ciara glanced at you, her expression a blend of concern and encouragement. you could tell she wanted to say something, perhaps offer reassurance, but instead, she simply gave your hand a gentle squeeze. the gesture felt grounding, a reminder that while you were stepping into the unknown, you were not entirely alone.

with a nod, you exited the car, the cool evening air wrapping around you like a cloak. you took a moment on the doorstep, hesitating as you glanced back at ciara, who offered you a reassuring smile before she drove away. the sound of the engine faded, leaving you with the echo of your own heartbeat.

spencer sat there, something heavy on his mind. his shirt was off, and he was stood in sweatpants and the line of his boxers showing. his hair was damp and flew down to his shoulders, his arms clinging onto the back of his neck and he eyed you up and down. you stared up at him with heavy, red eyes. you set down your purse and stared off into the distance.

he stared at you in silence. it was pissing you off. he was acting like a fucking child, and now really wasn't the time. your heart raced as your thoughts spiraled, the weight of everything you had been holding inside bubbling just beneath the surface. You could feel the frustration rising as you realized you were no longer willing to play your eyes met, and in that shared moment of understanding, something unspoken ignited.

“I can’t do this anymore,”

“I'm pregnant.” You blurted simultaneously.

The air shifted, charged with the gravity of your revelation and his confession, and the silence that had ruled the room felt like it was finally ready to crack open, revealing the unvoiced truths waiting just beneath the surface. your eyes widened and jaw feel open, as you grasped what just came out of his mouth. tears welled up at your eyes, and his met with yours with the same expression, and at the same time you both uttered;

“What?”

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