#vampire!spencer reid

[ralvezfanatic]

Luke: So do I really have to invite you into my house or is that a myth too?

Vampire!Spencer: Oh no we can enter wherever we please, that's just because of my social anxiety!

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

[incorrect-ralvez]

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.

[heartiella]

[colmiillo]

"I notice i start getting nauseous in the morning and my period is a week late"

Girl i need to fantasies with a hot man that i don't have a chance on, not with a baby,please kill that thing

[milkluvr333]

Not pleased with the lack of new fics for my fav characters (hyper fixations) lately. The withdrawals are eating me alive

[valsverse]

‼️ MY EXPERIENCE WITH @girlkisser13

🚨 HARASSMENT & PLAGIARISM 🚨

i want to address a serious issue that has recently come to light regarding a user in the fanfiction community (@girlkisser13) with a concerning history of plagiarism and ongoing harassment. this situation involves not just the act of stealing someone else's work but also a troubling pattern of aggressive behavior that has surfaced, indicating a lack of accountability and growth. it’s crucial for us writers and fans to stand together against such actions to maintain a supportive and respectful community for all creators. with that being said, read below. transparency is key, so i want to share the full context of this situation, including all relevant screenshots. underlined words/sentences include links to posts that are relevant to the incident, so i encourage you to check them out. (if you've recently received a message from an anonymous user about this situation, click here)

SECTION 1 : The Original Plagiarism Incident + Backstory

on june 3, 2023, i was notified by an anonymous user in my inbox that an account called girlkisser14 (now known as girlkisser13 after deactivating her old account) was plagiarizing my work. she repeatedly lifted sections of my writings and headcanons, merging them into her own posts. (note that i pretty much exclusively write for the percy jackson fandom.) after reaching out to her privately i discovered that i could no longer view her posts. at first, i thought she had taken her account down, but it turned out she had just blocked me. by june 5, 2023, i decided to create a post detailing the situation, which you can read here. shortly after, she contacted me, and we managed to come to a resolution. it seemed like a good opportunity for her to acknowledge her mistakes and learn from them. i updated my original post to reflect that the issue had been resolved. later on, she messaged me saying she couldn’t cope with the backlash. while i’m unsure if she was genuinely receiving hate, i felt sympathy for her situation. she asked me to take down the post, but i declined as accountability is important to me and i didn't feel comfortable with just erasing history. soon after, she deactivated her account.

although she deactivated her original account, she shortly after created a new one. i was notified by a different anon about this because her posts were moved to the new account, and some still included my work—presumably by accident. from that point on, she became known as girlkisser13, which can be confusing given her original username was girlkisser14. initially, she missed a few paragraphs of my work, as mentioned earlier, which prompted me to make a post about it (as seen in screenshot 2). however, she reached out to me, and we clarified everything through direct messages. after that, all seemed well!

however, things would get much worse from here. (this main character ahh dialogue bro.. 💀)

SECTION 2 : Account Tries a New Persona, Still Fails at Not Harassing Me.

(september 21st, 2024) an anonymous account messaged me with the following:

to be honest, i was completely baffled. i had completely forgotten about this issue, and out of nowhere, someone decides to bring it back up. it struck me as strange because… who gets so personal over something like this?

the user, which goes by the handle 'multifandombisexual13' also sent the exact same message directly to me, which made it clear that the anonymous message came from them, as shown.

first of all, the usernames are incredibly similar. both have the number 13, and girlkisser13 is a multifandom account. if you look at their profile, you'll notice they only repost stories from girlkisser13. even on the "check out these accounts" sidebar, there's only one account listed: girlkisser13. this is because they only repost content from that account.

let’s be real—this isn’t the behavior of a genuine fan. who goes through that much trouble? it’s obvious that this is girlkisser13 under an alternate handle.

i raised these concerns with the user, and i made sure to respond in a civil manner.

they didn’t respond to my initial message and only replied after I reached out to girlkisser13. i sent her a message about this situation. (just to be clear, this user and girlkisser13 are the same person.)

the user then responded at 4:38 PM. note that her main account, girlkisser13, replied to my message at 4:42 PM. (less than 5 minutes apart.) classic. (dates and times are included right under the text.)

if it wasn’t obvious by now, this person has been harassing me from their alt while pretending to be an innocent bystander on their main account. it’s like they’re playing both sides—using one account to send nasty messages and the other to act like they have no clue what’s going on. it’s honestly ridiculous and kind of sad at this point. (you will most likely have to zoom in to read the screenshots.)

you get the idea: this account goes off on personal jabs, claiming i have some need for control and a massive ego just because i refused to take the post down. i defended myself (obviously), but then she decided to accuse me of being jealous. (???)

i’ve made it clear SO many times—the post stays up for accountability. but no, she’s built up this entire fictional scenario where i’m obsessed with who’s getting more notes or attention. i promise you, i literally could not care less.

every single message is her droning on about “jealousy” or my supposed "ego and control issues," but never once acknowledging the actual point. it’s about holding people accountable for their actions. this isn’t a competition or a takedown—it's about transparency and honesty in the community. and to try and reduce it to some petty jealousy battle? that’s honestly ridiculous and completely out of touch.

like, she’s sitting there imagining i’m losing sleep over someone’s follower count on tumblr of all places. does she even realize how absurd that sounds? i'm a high school student who posts fanfic maybe once a month in a small fandom. tumblr is not my life, and there's definitely nothing here for me to be jealous of.

i don’t care how well someone is doing, i care about transparency and keeping things honest in the community. now, let’s address the obvious here. it’s super weird for another account to be going so hard defending a situation they supposedly have no part in. like, who does that? no one would go to these lengths unless they were personally connected, right? i brought up this whole issue in these screenshots below:

funny how they only stopped harassing me once i mentioned, at the end of my paragraph, that i’d happily make this public. up until that point, it was nonstop. i kept pressing them on whether they were connected to girlkisser13 (and if you somehow forgot—yes, this account and girlkisser13 are the exact same person). it was obvious, but i just wanted them to admit it.

it was around this time that i decided to message her main account, girlkisser13, to clear things up. i figured it was best to go straight to the source and get some clarification, but of course, things only got more suspicious from there.

SECTION 3: Ongoing harassment just a heads-up to pay attention to the account names at the top so you know who I'm messaging.

i like how i don't even have to comment on this part lmao. i sent the situation to girlkisser13 at 11:01 PM, and then at 11:39 PM, their other account decides to confront me about it.

anyways, i tried to get some honest answers from girlkisser13, but it was all just denial. at the very least, i asked her to reach out to the "other user" to stop the harassment.

at this point, girlkisser13 decided to backtrack and throw in an apology. i mean, i still firmly believed they were the same person, but honestly? i was just so exhausted from the whole ordeal that i thought, “whatever, let’s just agree and move on.”

SECTION 4: The Slip Up: GirlKisser13's Attempt at Damage Control

almost immediately after the conversation shown before, i received 13 messages TOTAL in my inbox, all in rapid succession, so obviously, they were all from the same person. i won't show them all because they're essentially the same. each one harassed me about my plagiarism post still being up, mentioning girlkisser13, and accusing me of jealousy in the same short, lowercase writing style. i brought this issue up to girlkisser13.

the first slip-up happened when I received a message from her alternate account, multifandombisexual13. up until that point, all the messages had come through anonymously, but it seems she forgot to enable the anonymous option this time.

shortly after, i got a message in the same style from her main account, girlkisser13. need i say more?

so, naturally, i sent the screenshot over to her main account, just to see what she'd say. and what did i get in return? excuse after excuse. it was honestly kind of impressive how quickly she could come up with new stories to cover her tracks. each response was more outlandish than the last, trying to justify what was blatantly obvious.

my brother sent that message!" yes—because your brother just happens to have access to your account. yes, because your brother happens to also be on tumblr, spending his time catching up on the latest percy jackson fanfiction drama... 💀 the sheer absurdity of it all. the pathological lying is honestly embarrassing at this point.

and, of course, the apologies only start rolling in after she's been caught—clearly just an attempt to redirect the drama and save face.

embarrassing...

SECTION 5: FINAL THOUGHTS—My Brain Hurts

in conclusion, this user does not deserve a platform on this app. she has failed to learn from her past mistakes and has clung to an incident that happened over FOUR MONTHS AGO. it’s time for accountability in our community.

harassment and deception have no place in spaces dedicated to creativity and expression. when individuals prioritize personal vendettas over respect and integrity, they tarnish the very essence of what fandom is meant to be.

it’s crucial that we foster an environment where originality is celebrated and where creators feel safe to share their work without fear of retaliation or harassment.

i highly encourage you to read everything i’ve shared and form your own opinion on the incident, but now you know my point of view.

ADDRESSING COMMON QUESTIONS

1. Isn’t this just a personal dispute?

while this situation is personal to me, it reflects broader issues within our fandoms. it’s not just about my experience; it’s about creating a community that values respect and integrity. we should all feel safe to share our work without fear of harassment or plagiarism. no one should feel comfortable stealing others' hard work or bullying creators into silence.

2. Why are some of the photos lower quality than others?

tumblr has a 30-photo limit, which meant i had to manually combine certain screenshots in a photo editor to get everything in. i also wanted to save space to make sure the most important screenshots could be posted in their highest quality. this is especially noticeable in the banter between me and her alternate account (see Section 2).

3. Why didn’t you just take down the post like she asked? Are you really jealous of her like she accused you of?

• absolutely not. i kept the post up for accountability. this was never about ego, jealousy, or a desire for control, as she accused me of—it’s about making sure people are aware of what happened and holding someone responsible for their actions. removing the post would allow her to escape the consequences of her behavior, which isn’t fair to me or anyone else she may target in the future. trying to turn this into a jealousy issue is a distraction tactic, and honestly, it’s irrelevant to the conversation. it’s not about followers or popularity—it’s about principles. 4. Why make this public? • because i gave her chances to handle this privately, and she chose to continue the harassment. this could have ended quietly, but she made the decision to escalate it. i’m not going to stay silent about someone who continues to lie, harass, and try to manipulate others.

5. Is it really that big of a deal?

yes. i know this whole situation is a bit silly, but plagiarism and harassment are serious issues, whether they happen online or in real life. it’s not just about fanfiction; it’s about respecting people’s work and holding individuals accountable when they cross boundaries.

to wrap this up, if you have any questions or concerns about the situation, feel free to reach out to me. i’ve tried to lay everything out as clearly as possible while trying to get this information out as quickly as possible, but i’m open to any clarifications or further discussion. i honestly don’t know how far this will reach or how many people will see it, but I think it’s important to at least try. for accountability’s sake, i’m tagging all the fandoms she’s active in, so all people can be aware of what’s been happening. hopefully, this will help set a standard in our community for respecting each other’s work and holding people accountable when they cross the line. i understand that some may want to defend her, but it’s crucial to consider the pattern of behavior exhibited. defending someone who has repeatedly shown disrespect for others’ work can enable harmful actions. i encourage people to look at the evidence and form their own opinions rather than simply siding with someone based on personal feelings.

thank you for your time!! ©valsverse— do not steal, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is prohibited.

[s0urw00lf]

This is a PSA. From here on out I write for all women (because I have yet to explore gender neutral writing and I don’t want to accidentally slip up and say something that might make it seem like it’s only woman based)

MEANING. Black, White, Asian, Brown, Hispanic etc.

And if I’m writing about a certain race it will be specified. As a black female it really angers me to see x readers with an obvious target audience that doesn’t include myself, all my life myself and so many other women watched as others were in the spotlight and I rarely saw any representation of myself on screen, let alone ACCURATE. It always has to be stereotyped into the story. Why can’t we be written as an heir to a long line of lawyers or doctors. Why does it always have to be we made it from the trenches and we don’t belong.

Wrote all of that to say. My fics are for ALL women, unless I say otherwise. I just want people to feel more accepted and show that change is happening.

Yes I will be writing WOC for EVERYONE I write for.

[godsfavdarling]

Vampire in the corner

+18

pairing: Spencer Reid x vampire!fem!reader words: 3,3k summary: You pay a late-night visit to your human boyfriend. warnings: smut - unprotected vampire x human sex, biting, blood drinking, blood obviously, i don't know anything about chess, AND if I had a vampire gf i'd let her bite me. just saying, no y/n a/n: surprise! happy kinktober and halloween to all my spencer reid bitches! AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY HUSBAND BOYFRIEND WIFE LOVER THE LOVE OF MY LIFE THE FATHER OF MY CHILDREN! this is everything you could have asked for - vampire gf, halloween, smut, chess, love, lust, sharp teeth, birthday spence (if you want to fight in the comments about his bday date pls do but I'm not fighting with anybody. I know my truth.) also this is 1000th post on my blog. happy 1000 posts to me! there's so much to celebrate omg!!!

The night draped itself around the room, thick and quiet, broken only by the deep, uneven breaths coming from Spencer as he lay on the leather couch. 

His face, usually so composed, was twisted in sleep, his chest rising and falling faster than usual.

You could hear the subtle hitch in his breathing, the rapid thrum of his pulse as it raced through his veins. The nightmare had its claws sunk deep into him, gripping and torturing him with no mercy. 

Your poor Spencer. 

If you could pull his nightmares into yourself, taking them into your mind just so he could get some rest, you would do it without a second thought.

Anything to grant him a night of peace. 

But you couldn’t. You were left watching.

The notion lingered in your mind, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had the pleasure of a dream—or a nightmare. The release of sleep had been lost to you long ago, and so, too, the comfort it offered. It was a need you no longer possessed. 

But if you could make it yours for just a night, you’d take his burden without question.

You clung to those thoughts, using them as a fragile distraction, but the pull was impossible to ignore. 

Your senses flared, every inch of you attuned to the sharp, tantalizing scent of his elevated heartbeat. 

It tugged at something deep and primal, stirring a hunger that made your fangs press against your gums, threatening to emerge. 

Your mouth felt heavy, a bead of saliva pooling as the instinct to feed sharpened with each beat of his pulse, loud and insistent.

The temptation to move closer—to soothe him and to taste the warm blood rushing just beneath his skin—scratched at the edges of your self-control. 

But you held back, swallowing hard, anchoring yourself to the cool corner of his apartment. 

Instead, you stayed there, simply watching, willing yourself to be his silent guardian rather than the predator your body begged you to be.

You’d gone away to feed, filling yourself as much as possible, hoping it would dull the ache that his presence always stirred in you. 

Yet, what was the use? You could have drained the whole neighborhood, and still, the warm, honeyed scent of him would seep into your senses, making your mouth water.

His breathing quickened, his brow glistening with sweat as the dream tightened its grip on him. You felt the tension coiling in your muscles, the craving gnawing at you, but you stayed rooted, waiting. 

You wouldn’t wake him. Not like this.

Suddenly, Spencer gasped, his eyes snapping open, wide, and clouded with fear. He bolted upright, his hands trembling as he rubbed at his eyes, lost in the remnants of the nightmare. 

He didn’t see you. 

He just sat there, breathing, his chest rising and falling in shallow waves. 

You felt a pang of doubt—maybe you shouldn’t have come. Maybe he didn’t want to see you tonight. But you needed to.

“Spence…” you said softly.

His head whipped toward the sound, eyes wide with surprise as they landed on you in the corner of the room, near the open window. The one he always left cracked just a bit, so you could slip in whenever you wanted.

“Hi. Sorry… have you been here long?” His voice was rough, edged with lingering panic. He blinked, processing your sudden appearance, and you could see a flicker of fear before something softer settled in as he took you in.

Stepping forward from the shadows, you softened your gaze, a faint smile curling at your lips. “Are you okay?”

Spencer rubbed his eyes, still trying to shake what was left of his nightmare, but the fear clung to him like a fog. 

His pulse had slowed, though not entirely back to normal. He glanced at you again, the dim light catching your eyes as you stepped closer.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you asked gently, your voice low and soothing.

He shook his head, his lips pressing into a tight line. "No," he mumbled, his tone making it clear he didn’t want to revisit whatever had plagued his sleep.

You watched him for a moment, a soft sigh escaping your lips. "Um… Happy Halloween," you said, a playful note in your voice as you tried to shift the mood. "It’s past midnight, and… it’s your favorite holiday."

A small, almost reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"And… happy belated birthday," you added, softer this time, your gaze dropping for a moment. "I’m sorry I wasn’t here."

He tilted his head slightly, curious but not pressing as you trailed off, leaving your apology unfinished. 

The truth was, it had been too sunny lately. Those bright days always left you weaker, and hungrier, and each one had chipped away at your control bit by bit. 

You hadn’t fed properly in days—it had been too risky to stay close to him, not with your hunger simmering just beneath the surface, ready to snap. You needed to leave, find solitude, and regain your balance before the temptation grew too strong to resist. 

To resist him.

"I had to go for a bit," you continued after a pause, your voice carrying a hint of something unspoken, "but I’m here now."

Spencer nodded a flicker of understanding in his eyes. Though you could sense his quiet curiosity, he didn't push for more. 

Instead, he glanced at you, his body slowly unwinding, the tension softening from his shoulders. 

“Thanks… for the birthday wishes,” he murmured, his voice gentler now. “And for being here.” His gaze drifted to your hands, clasped behind your back, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

“Oh… this is for you,” you said, noticing his furrowed brows.

From behind your back, you pulled out a neatly wrapped package and handed it to him. “I got you something,” you added softly.

Spencer looked surprised, his brow lifting slightly as he took the gift from your hands. His fingers brushed the wrapping, hesitantly and carefully, before gently peeling it open. 

When he saw the chess set nestled inside, a genuine smile broke across his face, softening his features.

“A new set,” he murmured, clearly pleased. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

The pieces and board glistened under the dim light, beautifully crafted. One set of pieces was clear and entirely transparent, like glass, while the other was foggy, milky white—elegant and striking in their contrast, each piece glinting with a subtle shimmer.

You returned his smile, a flicker of warmth rising in your chest. “Do you want to play?” you asked gently, knowing it might help calm him after the nightmare.

His face lit up even more at the suggestion. “Absolutely! I’d love to!” he replied eagerly, his earlier tension melting away.

With a huge grin spreading across your face, you took the chess set from his hands and finished unwrapping it, satisfaction bubbling inside you as you realized your plan had worked. It wasn’t complicated; all you wanted was to see him tonight, for him to like the gift, and to share just one game. 

You didn’t ask for much, especially since you knew you were putting him in danger. He might not fully understand the risks, yet he still seemed to want to be with you for some reason.

Deep down, a twinge of guilt gnawed at you. It always did. Burden and comfort simultaneously—that’s what he was to you.

You felt so deeply for him, even as you knew it didn’t make sense. This couldn’t last—not with your world and his being so different.

If you were any smarter, you would have disappeared from his life long ago. But how could you? You understood each other so well, and the thought of letting that go felt unbearable. 

Not now, at least.

You knew you would have to leave and never come back someday, but for now, all you wanted was this game of chess.

Spencer rubbed his face with his hands, pushing his hair back in a familiar gesture. He was still dressed in his button-up shirt and suit pants, the remnants of a long day he must have had.

He settled onto the couch in front of the coffee table, and you took a seat on the opposite side, on the floor, keeping your distance, carefully moving a few books to make space for the chessboard. 

As you began to gracefully arrange the pieces, a mix of excitement and sorrow washed over you. You loved him and these moments so much, but they were fleeting, it would all be over soon.

Spencer watched you intently, a flicker of admiration in his eyes. “You start,” he said, his voice low and inviting.

“Okay.” You quickly made your move, pushing a pawn forward with a sense of purpose.

“Opening with the pawns, huh?” he remarked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

“Gotta start somewhere,” you replied, leaning in slightly, feeling the familiar thrill of competition.

He took a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration. Then, with a graceful motion, he moved his knight.

You tilted your head, examining his choice. “Using your knight so soon?” you teased, fingers hovering over a piece. 

“Sometimes, it's good to make unexpected moves,” he replied, glancing up at you with that curious glint in his eye.

You smirked, nudging another pawn forward. “Oh, I’m unpredictable, too, don’t worry.”

The game stretched on until, finally, the inevitable checkmate descended. Spencer’s triumphant smile faded as he glanced from the board to you, sensing the end not just of the game.

You let out a soft sigh, letting the moment linger before standing. “Well, I should probably get going,” you murmured, already feeling the tug to stay just a little longer.

He met your gaze, a flicker of something in his eyes, “You don’t have to leave yet,” he said softly, almost as if hoping to halt time.

You stood up, feeling a mix of reluctance and responsibility. ”Spencer…”

He rose with you, his expression shifting from playful to earnest. 

He reached out, gently grasping your hand, his touch sending a warm shiver through you. “Can you stay a little longer? It’s still a long time until dawn.”

You hesitated, caught in the depths of his gaze. “I don’t know, Spence. It’s better if I—”

Before you could finish, he stepped closer, capturing your lips with his. 

You felt his warm lips on yours and then his tongue between your lips. Your own must feel so cold, you thought, pulling back instinctively.

“Sorry,” you murmured, unable to meet his gaze. 

You’d kissed before, but you still couldn’t shake the thought of how strange it must feel for him—your cool skin, so different from his warmth.

“What are you sorry for? I kissed you,” he replied, his voice soft but steady.

“I just… I must feel so cold, so unpleasant to touch.”

He persistently searched and held your gaze as he reached up, cupping your face in his hands. “You’re the most pleasant thing I’ve ever touched,” he said, sincerity lighting his eyes.

A soft laugh escaped you, and you looked away, feeling vulnerable under his intense eyes.

“I mean it,” he whispered, guiding your gaze back to him.

Before you could think of a reply, he kissed you again, his lips gentle but insistent, stealing away any protests that lingered on the edge of your mind. 

You knew you shouldn’t, that maybe you should pull away. 

But maybe just for a moment, you could allow him to make you feel good. Allow yourself to be held by him. Allow him to have you.

“Could we at least try? I trust you,” he murmured against your lips as he slowly guided you both toward the couch.

“You shouldn’t…” you whispered between kisses, even as he sat down and pulled you onto his lap.

“But I do,” he said, his voice filled with certainty. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing your body close against his chest, his lips trailing from your cheek down to your neck, kissing softly again and again.

His hands traveled up your back, slipping beneath your shirt, fingers pressing into your skin. 

You buried your hands in his hair and leaned your head against his. Careful though not to bring your face too close to his neck. You could still smell him very well, too well. 

You had to move away.

You dropped your head back, unable to stifle the moan that escaped you as his lips found the other side of your throat, leaving slow, heated kisses, each one like a spark against your cool skin. 

You could smell him—his blood coursing just beneath the surface, its pulse throbbing under your palms. You could practically feel it moving through his veins.

You closed your eyes, reminding yourself you didn’t have to breathe. 

You could handle this, you told yourself. You would handle this if it meant giving him what he needed. 

You’d give him anything.

With determination equal to the tide returning to shore, you stopped your breathing and brought your hands to his face, kissing him deeply. 

Your lips met his again and again, his summer-warm mouth against your winter-cold one. His rosy pink, blushing skin contrasted with your own.

His hands moved up to cup your breast, fingers gentle yet firm, and you gasped into his mouth, a new surge of desire spiraling through you. 

You dreamt about this. 

You needed this—sometimes, it felt like you needed him even more than blood itself. Nights were spent wanting him, aching for what you knew could never, and should never, happen.

Every time his warm hands found yours, your dead heart seemed to beat again, pulsing with something that should be forgotten. 

For these past few months, that desire had coiled tighter within you, growing.

And it felt like the same was true for him, both of you caught in a spiral of longing—desperate, demanding, on the verge of breaking.

His fingers continued exploring beneath your shirt, his touch warm and insistent, and you let yourself lean into it, your hands slipping down to the buttons of his dress shirt. 

One by one, you undid them, your fingers brushing against his chest, feeling his heartbeat unsteady and strong beneath your touch.

Spencer’s hands left your back briefly to help you, sliding the shirt from his shoulders and tossing it aside before his hands found you again, this time tugging your shirt up over your head. 

He took in the sight of you, his gaze trailing over every inch as his hands followed, gentle but reverent. 

His lips found your shoulder, pressing kisses down along your collarbone, igniting shivers you have not felt in years.

You let your fingers drift to his belt, undoing it slowly, deliberately, as his hands roamed up your sides, tracing over every curve, sending your dead pulse racing. 

He leaned back slightly, watching you, his breath a little unsteady as he helped slide the belt free. 

The pull between you both was intense and undeniable, and you wanted him more than words could say.

You stood up, slipping out of the last of your clothes and letting them fall to the floor, baring yourself completely before him. 

Spencer’s gaze traveled slowly over your body, studying every inch with quiet admiration. 

His eyes softened and his voice was almost a whisper as he said, “You’re beautiful… so incredibly beautiful.”

A thrill ran through you at his words, and you returned to him, straddling his lap again, feeling the heat of his skin against yours. 

His breathing quickened as you reached between you both, freeing him from his pants. 

His cock, hard and ready, brushed against you, and you guided him to your entrance, sinking onto him slowly, already wet and done. 

His head fell back, a deep groan escaping him, and you began to move, setting a rhythm that made both of you shudder with each slow, intense movement.

As you rode him, lost in the rhythm and warmth of his body, you found yourself leaning in, your lips grazing the curve of his neck. 

Just one inhale.

Just one. 

Unintentional but all-consuming.

The rush of his scent, his blood beneath the surface, hit you like a shock. 

You pushed against his chest, pushing him back just enough to keep the warmth of his heart at arm’s length, your palm firm against his skin to hold him there as you continued moving, keeping that tantalizing closeness but staying just far enough away.

He looked at you, a flicker of confusion, and then something darker, more intense. “Bite me,” he whispered, eyes heavy-lidded, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you kept riding him, a playful deflection. 

But his hand came up, covering yours against his chest, his gaze steady. “I’m serious,” he murmured, his voice low and certain—an invitation and a plea.

“It’s my birthday,” he added softly, almost as if admitting it to himself.

You couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not anymore,” you murmured.

“Please,” he whispered, his eyes locked onto yours, the weight of his plea stirring something deep within you. 

His words sent a thrill through you, and though you kept your rhythm steady, you couldn’t deny the pull of his request, the way it made your dead heart somehow pound.

“What if I can’t stop?” you asked, the question trembling on your lips.

He met your gaze, unwavering. “I don’t care. And I trust you. I know you’ll stop,” he replied, his voice thick with sincerity, a quiet confidence. 

You could see it in his eyes—how serious he was, how much he wanted this. 

The hunger you felt mingled with a deep longing, and you took a deep breath just to taste him again on your tongue. 

Just his smell - so intense, so delicious. 

It filled your senses, intoxicating and overwhelming. 

Just one bite, you thought. 

Just one gulp from his beautiful neck.

Just one. He offered. 

How could you say no? 

Just one.

You leaned in, tilting your head to the side of his throat, your lips brushing against his warm skin. 

The world around you faded, leaving only the thundering of his heart and the fast pulse beneath your lips. 

You could taste him already, your senses heightened as you studied the soft skin of his neck, your fingers grazing it gently. 

His hair fell across it gracefully, and you tucked the strands behind his ear with one hand, tilting his head slightly to expose more of his throat with the other

You leaned in closer, your fangs barely grazing his skin, lingering there as a silent promise. 

You could stop. 

You would stop.

You could feel his breath hitch as you bit down gently at first, savoring the moment, but soon sank your teeth in deeper, taking two swift gulps. 

The metallic richness flooded your mouth, a heady mix of sweetness and warmth that sent a jolt of pleasure through your entire dead being. 

You pulled away, blood glistening on your lips and covering his skin.

He kept staring at you, but your eyes were fixed on the red streaming slowly down his neck, covering the small punctures you’d left in the perfect spot. 

His blood still lingered in your mouth, and you savored it, licking your lips and teeth, gathering every last bit before swallowing.

A low, involuntary moan escaped as the taste stayed on your tongue, the richness of him filling you in more ways than one.

Without thinking, you leaned down, your lips tracing his chest, shoulder, and neck as you licked the blood from his skin, savoring every last drop of him.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

༉‧₊˚. 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: 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.

— wc: 1083

⋆ a/n: 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).

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

[enderlovez]

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.

[ralvezfanatic]

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 !

[incorrect-ralvez]

Luke: Why do humans have different blood types?

Vampire!Spencer: So we can enjoy different flavors.

Luke: Really?

Vampire!Spencer: ...

[vee6lolz]

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?”

reblog or comment for part 2 <3

[heartiella]

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

[colmiillo]

When y/n does something that a would never do to pookie

[vintageswiftiesblog]

what the fuck

they were probably taken like at least 20 years apart too