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aperrywilliams · 4 days ago

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Tin Wedding (Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader)

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Author Masterlist | Event Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader.

Summary: You've become friends with Penelope Garcia over the past year, and after much insistence from her, you agreed to visit her at her office one day. What you didn't expect was to run into your ex-husband there. And surely you didn't expect that he - Spencer Reid - is Penelope's coworker.

Word Count: 7.2k (please, stop me!)

Warnings: Yes. I set this one as +16. Mention of Reader being drunk. Curses and some strong words. Mention of sex - oral (m&f). Nothing detailed. IDFK anything about the US marriage and divorce system.

A/N: 2nd Fic for the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge I was hosting during October with my sis @babymetaldoll. I'm so sorry for the delay, but life has crushed me these past weeks.

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The ding of the elevator signals you are already on the sixth floor. The doors open, and the first thing you see are people going and coming. It's the bustling of a lively office at noon. But this is not just any office; this is the FBI headquarters in Quantico. You never thought you would be in a place like this in your life, but here you are after your friend Penelope convinced you to visit her at work after insisting for weeks.

BAU - Behavioural Analysis Unit reads the glass doors in front of you. This is the place. Looking at the scattered desks on the open floor, you look for a clue that leads you to Penelope.

People walk past you without paying much attention. Maybe you should ask for help. But before you can decide to do so, a voice behind your back breaks you out of your thoughts.

"Can I help you?"

You know that voice. You're sure of that. But wait. It can't be—not after years of not hearing it.

You slowly turn around just to confirm that your suspicions are correct. Standing in front of you is a curious Spencer Reid, who pales when he sees your face. He remembers you, too.

"Oh God, Spencer?"

A stupid question with an obvious answer, but that doesn't take away the surprise of coming face to face with someone you never thought you'd see again in your life.

"(Y/N)? Wow..."

Time has passed, you tell yourself. Spencer looks more grown up. His hair is a little shorter, and he doesn't look so skinny anymore; it even seems there's some muscle under the white shirt he sports. Some stubble adorns his face, and dark circles can be seen under his eyes. But his beautiful eyes are the same as you remember them from when you first met in Pasadena.

"What are you doing here?" You ask, still shocked. Spencer's expression seems pretty much the same as yours.

"Uh. Well, I work here," he explains after clearing his throat.

A Caltech's genius working with the FBI? You wouldn't have expected it. But then again, you didn't expect to cross paths with him after all this time. "And what are you doing here?"

Good point. Why did you come? Oh, yes. Penelope Garcia.

"I'm here to see a friend," you mumble. Spencer's confused look changes to what? Disappointment? Of course, you're not there for him. It's stupid ever to think that, considering you haven't talked since the day you said goodbye and parted ways in that tiny apartment you shared in Pasadena.

And then an awkward silence. What are the chances that after so long, you were going to meet Spencer? And if you're wondering how long, we're talking about ten years when you were both pursuing your degrees at Caltech. In your case, it was the first one because Spencer was already in his third PhD when you met.

Before you can say something else, the one and only Penelope Garcia burst into the room, looking for you.

"There you are! Why didn't you call me when you got here?"

Totally unbeknown to the tense silence, she steps in front of you and hugs you. You can feel Spencer's confused look on you. "I'm glad you made it! We have so much to talk about."

"Garcia is your friend?" Spencer asks, gaze on you, and it's when you realize how weird the situation is. Penelope turns to him, an eyebrow furrowed.

"Of course, I'm her friend. And she came to see me," Garcia scoffs until she realizes something. "Wait a minute. For what reason would you ask that?"

Spencer clears his throat. He doesn't know what your opinion is about people knowing that fact.

"We know each other," you explain to her before asking. "How do you know Spencer?"

"No way! What a coincidence!" Garcia chirps. The exclamation raises the interest of the people entering the bullpen. Some of them approach to where you all are. "Reid? We work together!"

What were the chances of something like that happening to you, you wondered, as Spencer continued to stare at you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"What's happening here, baby girl?" A toned man asks Garcia, who can't contain her excitement.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe it," she announces as two women join the conversation.

Garcia briefly explains to the audience who you are and that she just found out that you both know Spencer, too. After the first impression, she proceeds to introduce you to those there: Derek, JJ, and Emily. From the corner of your eye, you can see Spencer downcasting his look at their curious glances at him.

"So you guys know each other?" JJ asks.

You both nod at the same time as Spencer mutters, "Caltech."

"Ah, fellow grads," JJ assumes. And in part, she is right. Indeed, you met while you were starting your master's degree and subsequent doctorate in the same area as Spencer.

"Kind of," you admit, seeing Spencer's cheeks flush and feeling yours burn too. The guy who was presented as Derek Morgan has a smirk plastered on his face.

"College sweethearts?" Morgan asks in a teasing tone. And he is kind of right, too. You lock eyes with Spencer, and you can't tell if he did or wants to say to his colleagues what you really were at that time. But before you both can even think of saying anything, Garcia's eyes widen in recognition.

"No! Wait a minute! Did you go to college together? You said the other day that you-" she starts connecting information, and you start to freak out internally. Before you can stop her, Garcia blurts. "Oh! Spencer is your ex-husband? You have to be kidding me!"

Shit. How did she figure it out so quickly? Sure, it might be your fault for sharing details about your college love life with her on a night filled with alcohol, but how could you have known she was already acquainted with him? You were careful not to mention any names or specifics, yet here you are.

"Wait, what?" Morgan's smirk turns to jaw slack in astonishment. There is no difference between JJ's and Emily's reactions. Spencer's face is flushed, and so is yours.

"Someone is going to say anything?" Emily asks, bouncing her eyes between you and Spencer.

"Uh, well—" you start, giving Spencer an apologetic look, who returns you an awkward tight-lip smile.

"Yeah. We were married," he confirms.

"When we were at college," you add.

You can feel the heaviness in the air and the mid-surprised, mid-incredulous looks from the people around you. Morgan is the first to break the silence.

"Damn it, pretty boy. What a story you had hidden from us," he says, patting Spencer's shoulder. JJ - the quietest one until now - senses how uncomfortable you and Spencer are with all the attention.

"Guys, why don't we give them a minute?"

After a moment of consideration, Emily seconds the motion. "Yeah, Morgan, would you help me with something?"

"Su- sure," Morgan agrees, still confused but following Emily nonetheless.

"But—" Penelope is still trying to understand the whole situation and has many questions she wants to ask.

"Come on, Garcia. I'm sure (Y/N) will find you when she is ready," JJ encourages, looking at you. That's when you get out of your daze and nod.

"Yes. Yeah. I'll text you, Penelope."

And just like that, the same way people surrounded you just seconds ago, now it's just you, Spencer, and an awkward silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you worked here. I didn't know you were Penelope's coworker, and—" you start to apologize.

"No. Don't. It's not your fault," Spencer rushes to speak.

"I shouldn't have told her about - about," you trail off.

"About you having an ex-husband?" Spencer supplies, and you shyly nod.

"Believe me, it's not a thing I tell everyone I meet, but Penelope, well, she-" you try to find the right words. Spencer nods in understanding.

"Yeah, she can be pretty convincing when she wants to know something."

Another halo of silence passes between you until it's Spencer who breaks it this time.

"So, how have you been? I mean, it's been a while." You nod, still uncomfortable with the situation but just as curious as you assume Spencer is.

"Yeah, it's been a while," you confirm. "Good, all good on my end. Working and living. What about you?"

"Me? Good. Working here at the BAU."

"Cool."

Cool? What does that mean?

A sharp 'Reid' is heard from behind you both, making you turn to the source. A well-dressed man with a serious gaze is looking at Spencer from an office threshold. "Can you come, please?" the man adds. Spencer nods quickly. "Sure. I'll be there in a second, Hotch." The answer seems to satisfy the man, so he nods and returns inside.

Spencer turns to you again. "Uh. I - uh-" he stutters, motioning where the man called Hotch was a second ago.

"Yeah. I have to go, too." You have to, actually, but you don't think you can face Penelope or anyone else right now, for that matter. "It was nice to see you." As you are about to run away subtly, Spencer calls your name. Stopping in your tracks, you turn, and your eyes make contact with his again.

"Would you - uh. Would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime?"

It catches you off guard, but you only assume he's being polite. You think you should return the gesture.

"Sure. Why not," you say, giving him a little smile. "Now I have to go. Bye, Spencer."

And with that, you resume your escape to the elevator.

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From the moment he saw you at the BAU, Spencer has never been the same. He never imagined he would see you again, especially under those circumstances. Spencer was so astonished he wasn't even able to start a decent conversation or even ask for your number after inviting you to a coffee.

Also distressed about the interrogation he knew his colleagues would subject to him, Spencer wanders through the BAU halls as if he were not in the present. And, in fact, he is not. After seeing you, he has only been able to think about you and the years you both spent in Pasadena.

A smile tugs the corners of his mouth every time one of those memories comes to him.

"Okay, pretty boy, spill," Derek prompts when he sees Spencer in the kitchen two days after your encounter.

"Uh? What are you talking about?" he turns, confused, to see Derek looking at him with a frown and arms over his chest.

"Come on! You know what I'm talking about. About the pretty lady, Garcia's friend, who happens to be your ex-wife?"

Spencer huffs through his nostrils.

"I already told you. We met in college, and we were together until we graduated," Spencer says nonchalantly as if it's normal. He tries, at least. Morgan scoffs at his attempt.

"Reid. You married her. You just can't tell me you 'were together' as you're talking about any other relationship. She was important; what happened?"

Morgan remembers well a few years ago when Spencer told him about a great love he had while at Caltech and how, from time to time, those memories would come to plague his head. It wasn't hard for Morgan to connect the dots and assume you were the person Spencer was referring to.

Spencer sighs thoughtfully. "We ended it by mutual agreement. We both knew our career paths were going to be incompatible, and we both had so many dreams to fulfill. Our greatest act of love was letting each other go. At least that's how I saw it for a long time."

"But you regretted it at some point," Morgan adds, and Spencer nods. "Why didn't you try to find her then?"

"I didn't want to be selfish. What if she already had her life going perfectly, and I was just going to show like a kicked puppy? It wasn't fair for her."

"Man, I get it, but what about now? You found each other again. Can it be a kind of sign or something." Spencer glances at Derek with an incredulous look.

"Are you listening to yourself? You sound like Garcia," Spencer grumbles, making Derek laugh.

"Yeah. Definitely, it's something my baby girl would say. But, truly speaking, Reid, why not take a chance?"

Spencer huffs in frustration. "I - I don't know anything about her in these years! I didn't even ask for her number that day. I was frozen on the spot!"

"And that will stop you?"

A satisfactory smirk appears on Derek's face when Spencer stays silent, contemplating his options.

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Not wanting to talk about the encounter with anyone, you write to Penelope, apologizing for having to leave suddenly that day. She responds everything is fine and doesn't even ask you why, to which you are tremendously grateful.

But as the days pass by, you know you have to talk to her at some point, so you invite her to come over one afternoon.

You have been thinking a lot and rationalizing everything that happened. Of course, there was always a possibility of crossing paths with Spencer someday, but turning it into reality is different. So you conclude all your nerves were out of the shock of something unprovable happening, not because seeing Spencer after ten years made you fall off your balance.

With that in mind, you were ready to talk to Penelope.

Once she gets to your apartment, you first apologize for leaving that day and explain how you got frozen after the unexpected encounter. Garcia tells you not to worry and even says she is sorry for telling everyone about her discovery without any filter.

"It's just- I was so impressed. I couldn't help it!" she explains, and you nod in understanding.

"It's okay. I guess no one expected something like that."

"Right? But I have to ask. How did Spencer Reid become your husband? I mean, you told me about your ex-husband and all, but I'm sorry, I can't picture Spencer even talking to a girl without stuttering, less asking for marriage, and then divorcing? It's beyond me."

It catches your attention how she talks about him. Although you met Spencer when you both were very young, knowing how shy he was, over time, you managed to beat his barrier and meet a wonderful man full of charisma and not so sheepish after all. Has he never shown that side to anyone else in all these years?

"Why so much interest in my marriage? It's been a decade," you ask Penelope, and her scoff sounds a mix of obvious and disbelief.

"Honey, it's unbelievable Doctor Loving Reid has kept THAT information to himself for so long. So now that it is out, it does pick my full interest. Spill. What happened?"

You shrug your shoulder. "It's like I said the first time I told you. We were young, a whole life ahead. Neither he nor I wanted to cut each other's wings."

"But you loved each other!" Penelope complains with an adorable pout. You have known this woman for what? Less than a year? And she seems brokenhearted about something that happened to you and Spencer ten years ago. She's right, though. You and Spencer were mad in love. Unlike what people have believed for years, your marriage was not a result of a wild night of alcohol and passion in Pasadena. You were both quite sober when you went to court that day. Both even had written down the vows you professed in front of the judge- yours on a piece of paper and Spencer in his brain, of course.

"If it's any consolation, the year we were married, we were very happy," you tell her, fondly remembering that time. Garcia rolls her eyes.

"Well, exactly that's what I mean, miss. If you were so happy, why end it like that?"

The only answer you can think of is 'it's complicated,' but that will surely increase her curiosity.

"We wanted the best for each other, even if it meant being apart. As good rational beings, we weighed our options, and the sensible thing to do was to end it."

Putting it in that way, Penelope can believe it. Having known Spencer for years, she knows for a fact his big brain is capable of analyzing every probability of every possible outcome. What seems incredible to her is how feelings - how love - can be rationalized like this.

A ding from your phone pauses your talk with Penelope. You glance at the device and see a text from an unknown caller.

'Hi. I'm Spencer. I stupidly didn't ask you for your number, so after cursing myself for the past few days, I had to find it out. Don't get mad, please. I would really like to grab a coffee with you if you are up to it. If you don't want to, I understand. And if you don't want me to contact you again, just say the words, and I'll stop. But I really hope you say yes. SR.'

Okay. This is unexpected. Indeed, you remember not having exchanged numbers with Spencer, and you didn't give it much thought either, assuming his invitation had been out of pure kindness. But here you are, reading the message and feeling an emotion you can't describe. Nostalgia, maybe?

You narrow your eyes to Garcia, who immediately suspects who sent you a text.

"Before you ask, I didn't give him your number!" she defends as you breathe a deep sigh.

"He's asking me out for coffee," you tell Garcia, and she can't help but squeal.

"Will you say yes?"

"I don't know. Is it a good idea to get back in touch after all these years?" you muse more for yourself than her.

"Honey, only you know what's best for you, but if you ask me, I remember you telling me after you both split up, you were left with a lot of 'what ifs' in your head, and some of them are still floating around. Maybe this could help clear them up once and for all."

Penelope has a point. But now, you have a dilemma in the form of a coffee invitation.

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It's just a coffee. Don't overthink it.

You have been telling yourself that for a while as you walk to the coffee shop where you agreed to meet Spencer today.

He is just being nice.

Sure, after ten years of no contact, this sudden encounter in the FBI - with all his colleagues there - maybe pressured him to invite you to grab a coffee.

Still lost in your thoughts, you don't realize you are already there. After taking a deep breath, you step inside and look around. You spot him in a booth in the corner, back to you. A smile tugs at your lips, remembering all the coffee dates you both had back then. It was your thing. Hours and hours talking about everything and anything until the owner asked you to leave because they needed to close.

"Hey," you greet, making Spencer look up to you.

"Hi," he returns, a smile plastered on his face. "Thanks for accepting my invitation," he gestures for you to sit.

"Sure. Why I wouldn't?" After taking off your coat, you sit in front of him in the booth.

"Yeah. I mean, we haven't talked in ten years. And then we see each other at my work, and- well, it's kind of weird, I guess?"

Weird is an understatement, you think.

"You are right. Kind of it is."

You notice there are two coffee cups on the table. Spencer follows your line of sight.

"Uh- I had ordered already," he points to the coffee in front of you. "I don't know if you have changed your order, though."

"Thanks," you mumble appreciatively. "I haven't changed it, actually."

"Great!"

You try to gauge his expression. Is he nervous? Anxious? Because you are.

"Spencer, if you are uncomfortable, we can just go home. There is no—" You can't finish the sentence before Spencer cuts you off.

"No. No, I'm not. Please, don't think that."

"Okay," you concede. "I won't. But you need to be honest with me, okay?"

"Of course," Spencer agrees.

"You felt obligated to invite me here after what happened?" You bluntly ask, and Spencer's eyes widen.

"What? No, of course not," Spencer immediately denies. "I really wanted to see you. It's just that-" he hesitates. You tilt your head, waiting for him to continue. "I just didn't know if it was right, you know? I mean, we never reach out, and then it happens. We never agreed-" he trails off. And you know exactly what he's talking about.

Back then, when you decided to go separate ways, Spencer asked you what would happen if you met again in the future, and you shook your head, saying it probably wouldn't happen. So yes, you never talked about the possibility, and Spencer understood he should never contact you, and so did you.

"I know. We didn't," you recognize, regret slipping in your voice. "I guess I didn't want to think about the possibility back then."

You two know there are things you left out and left unsaid the last night you were together in Pasadena, but you don't think it's a good idea to say them now—not when this is supposed to be a friendly reunion between exes.

"So, since when have you been working in DC?" Spencer asks after you tell him about your work career on the west side.

"Almost two years," you admit.

Two years living in the same city. Spencer wonders if Garcia hadn't met you, he would have ever seen you again.

Your professional career has certainly been prolific; Spencer can tell after the stories you have been recounting. Years of experience and important jobs, just as you had dreamed when you were in college. These are the same dreams you shared with Spencer during the nights of studying and those where there was everything else but studying.

"I thought you were going to pursue academics. When did the FBI happen?" you ask after saying it's enough of talking about yourself.

"I thought that too. And I did it for a while. Then I met Gideon. He - uh, he showed me what the BAU had been doing, and I knew it was my place to be."

Spencer fondly tells you about his early years working as a profiler and how much he has learned. It seems that, like you, he has found his professional calling.

Two hours and three coffees later, you are both laughing about the weird and funny things you have seen in the past years. It feels good, and much of the initial nervousness has dissipated. But there is one topic you both have actively avoided: romantic relationships.

You are curious about it, and Spencer is, too, but neither of you wants to be the one to mention it first. Spencer is who breaks first.

"Are we going to talk about - about that? I feel we have been dancing about the topic, but I don't know if you want to."

You can't help but snort out of being caught and for the subject itself. You are sure your almost nonexistent love life is enough to make anyone cry or laugh.

"I'm still that obvious?"

"You have your tells," Spencer shrugs. You raise an eyebrow.

"I have my tells? What about you, doctor? You have been bouncing your leg the same way you did the day you defended your engineering PhD dissertation."

Spencer's eyes widen. "You still remember that?"

The insinuation of you forgetting that day makes you scoff.

"Of course I do! I tried everything to try to calm your nerves. Do you remember what I did, and actually, it worked?" Spencer's cheeks redden because he remembers.

You won't tell the details, but you recall, as clear as the day, how you helped him to 'decompress.'

"Okay, okay. Guilty as charged."

"So, what do you want to know?" You ask, still not fully ready but resigned, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest.

"Are you with someone?" Spencer asks, and you gasp, feigning surprise.

"No beating around the bushes, uh?"

Spencer's cheeks flush, and he can't help it. "If it's out the line, you don't need to answer."

Seeing him flustered and biting his lower lip makes your heart do flip-flops. It's something you haven't felt in a long time—ten years, to be exact.

"If you had asked me a month ago, I should have said yes."

Indeed, you had a boyfriend until a month ago when his insistence on moving in with you was too much to handle, and his frustrated self decided to say a lot of awful things when you said no to him.

Some people would say you have commitment issues, and maybe you have. But in all honesty, until this day, there is no one you have felt secure enough to take that step.

It's ironic, considering you already have a marriage under your belt.

"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbles.

"No. Don't be. It wasn't meant to be."

'Like I used to think about us,' you want to add, but you refrain. Instead, you explain in not much detail every failed relationship you have had. Spencer listens intently, his heart aching to think of how a part of you might have been broken with each failed relationship. He hasn't done any better, though.

"And that's all. As you can see, there is nothing too exciting to remark," you chuckle to lighten the mood. "Tell me about you. There is a Mrs. Reid waiting at home?"

Spencer snorts, shaking his head. "No. There's no Mrs. Reid. The only one who has held the title has been you," he says with a look that makes your breath hitch in your throat. What is it? Longing?

"Wow. I feel honored," you tease, trying to hide the heat rising to your cheeks.

Spencer tells you about the few relationships he's had over the years. In his own opinion, none of them are very meaningful. When you ask him why, he doesn't hesitate to answer. "This job not only consumes my time, but also a lot of me as a person. Not everyone understands that."

He would like to say no one has ever been so important as to make him doubt continuing to work in what he does. The only person who ever made him doubt was you. But instead of saying it, he prefers to end with a "I guess that's why no one has stayed."

Listening to him talk is like listening to yourself, trying to minimize the fact that professional success is possibly one of the main reasons why other parts of your personal life have never flourished.

It was your choice. You both decided to make it that way. But sometimes you wonder if...

"Do you think we made a mistake?"

Spencer's question gets you out of your thoughts.

You look at him, baffled. "What?"

"Do you think we shouldn't have broken up? That I shouldn't have left?"

You pondered his question for a second. It has to do with how you felt at that time? Or does it have to do with how you felt after or even now?

"Honestly? I don't know, Spencer." A resigned sigh leaves your lips. "I always wanted to think it was the right thing to do."

"You never regretted it?" He asks you, and you shrug, not knowing much to say. Instead, you opt to ask him the question back.

"Did you?"

"Yeah. I did," he admits. "Sometimes I still do."

A heavy silence settles between you. The admission that you both had doubts about the drastic decision you made almost ten years ago is difficult to take. It unfurls a whole new set of questions whose answers you are not sure you are ready to hear or say. But it's only fair he knows your truth as you know his now.

"For what is worth, me too. I regret it. More often than I would like to admit."

Spencer's heart starts to beat faster; breath hitches in his throat for a second.

He tentatively reaches out to rest his hand on yours. You watch the action and think you know what it means. His eyes are hopeful. Something you'd like to mirror in your own, but the uncertainty is there, and you can't help it.

"Spencer, no. Please, don't." You try to articulate but not take your hand away from his. "I wish I could tell you I'm willing to try- to try to make up for lost time, but I can't. Even though it may not seem like it, we're strangers to each other, and I'm not in a place to even think about- you know."

Spencer gives a little squeeze to your hand, nodding.

"I know. And I'm not asking you for us to redo our story and start from where we ended. No. But I would love to get to know you again and be your friend."

"Friends?" You ask, brows furrowed. He smiles.

"Yeah. First and foremost, you were always my best friend. My person. Even if we never get back together as a couple, and we don't have to, I don't want to lose you again."

You take a moment to think about his words. What would be the harm? You're at a stage in your life where you don't want to live thinking about those things you wish you had done and didn't. The things you might have done differently. Why not put reason aside for a moment and just be?

You squeeze his hand back, a sign of yes; you're willing to get to know the Spencer in front of you.

---------

Three months have passed since your conversation with Spencer at the coffee shop. You both agreed to reconnect as friends, which has led to many coffee meetings, lunches, dinners, movie nights, and walks in the park. And to say your heart feels full and happy would be an understatement. You've realized how much of the Spencer you met in Pasadena still exists, and the connection that once brought you together has revitalized and is stronger than ever.

Neither of you has wanted to rush things, and so far, you're both happy to be able to spend time together.

Spencer has also opened the door for you to the BAU team, which has been his family for eight years now. In addition to the bond you already had with Penelope, you now regularly attend the girls' night she hosts with JJ and Emily. You've also gotten to know Derek and Hotch better and understand why Spencer considers them like his older brother and father figure, respectively. You've also become a favorite of David Rossi, who doesn't take no for an answer every time he invites you to one of his dinners.

Like tonight, where you find yourself vividly chatting with the girls in a corner of Rossi's backyard.

"No way I could have passed Dynamics and Mechanics without Spencer," you acknowledge when you're talking about the most challenging subjects you had in college.

"It seems a very interesting topic," Emily jokes, not knowing what the hell you were talking about.

You giggle at the memory, cheeks turning a shade of pink.

"I still remember those afternoons Spencer spent trying to help me memorize the Euler–Lagrange equations and the Hamilton's principle. He made it interesting, if you know what I mean," you wink at them.

"I don't think I want to know," JJ muses. Emily snorts at the suggestion.

"Oh, I definitely want to know what that means," Penelope pipes. You chuckle.

"One night, he made me recite the whole equations with his head buried between my thighs," you confess with a mischievous look.

"Oh my God!" Garcia's jaw goes slack, and Emily's eyes widen in disbelief.

"You fucking kidding me!"

"Definitely, I didn't want to know that," JJ shakes her head.

"Well, I helped him with Applied Computer Science. He had to produce a code to operate a string of relational databases while I was on my knees su-"

"Okay! I get it!" Garcia cuts you off, with her hands in the air, as Emily laughs and JJ groans.

"You asked," you shrug, a smirk on your lips.

"Okay, okay. But hear me out. Since we are talking about college time, and honestly speaking, we all have had someone in college, more or less important, with whom to study or do other things," Emily prefaces, making you giggle. "But from that, to marry, and one year later to divorce? How do you get over something so intense like that?"

You have questioned yourself the same for years.

Looking past JJ's shoulder, you see Spencer talking with Morgan, beer in hand, and you can't help but feel the smile creeping on your face when he looks back and winks at you.

If anything, the past months have made you realize what you had back then with him was unique. But what you're having now? It is as unique as before and better.

"I don't think you get over it. And it's okay; you learn to appreciate it and value the chances life gives you after."

The girls follow your line of sight and share a knowing look. When they see Spencer approaching the group, they collectively decide to go inside the house for a new drink.

"All yours," Garcia whispers to Spencer before going in a bee-line with Emily and JJ.

"What was that?" Spencer asks you with a quirked eyebrow when the girls are out of sight.

You look at him, pretending not to understand.

"I assume they wanted a refill," you say with a shrug. Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And you don't? Do you want me to get you something?"

"No. I'm fine," you respond to his offer. "Besides, I think I've got my alcohol ration filled for the night."

"If you're done for the night, I can take you home if you want."

That's the Spencer you know, always concerned about your well-being and comfort. You shake your head.

"Not yet. Walk with me, though?" You ask, extending your hand for him to take. Without questioning reasons, Spencer nods and takes your hand. The two of you begin to walk towards the pool area, where the sound of the music coming from the house is less audible.

It's not unusual for you to hold hands now. You trust each other, and it's been an innocent way of showing affection. And while the tension of something more has been building, neither of you has wanted to take the next step yet.

When you stop in the pool deck, Spencer moves to stand in front of you, his free hand reaching to tilt your chin with his index so he can inspect your face for some kind of clue.

"Are you okay?"

You nod as your fingers, from your joined hands, absently play with his. A thorough smile tugs the corners of your mouth. Your eyes admiring Spencer's honey ones in the moonlight.

"More than okay," you admit. But Spencer knows there is more in your mind you're not saying.

"Yeah?"

"Yep." You're stretching this on purpose. A smirk plays on your face. Spencer knows what you are doing.

"Good." His voice is amused. This game was one you both used to play back then, testing each other's curiosity and seeing how long it took the other to demand an answer about what the other was thinking. Usually, you were the one who won since Spencer couldn't stand not knowing.

"Have you grown patient over the years, Dr. Reid?" You ask, entertained. Spencer's laughter fills you with a feeling you thought was dormant inside you, but he has managed to refloat.

Not wanting to prolong his torture, and because you don't have it in you to hold back any longer, you decide to speak.

"I know you remember, but can you tell me the first thing I said to you the day I met you?"

Spencer's eyes narrow in search of the moment you're referring to.

You were in the library, busily searching through the shelves for a book you couldn't find. Spencer could see the stress radiating off of you. After watching you for a few seconds, he decided to walk over to the shelf, and leaning down, he pulled a book from the top shelf before presenting it to you. "Maybe this is the one you're looking for?" And he was right. Your first thought was, 'How did I not see it before?' and then you realized the weirdest thing of all, 'how did he know which was the book you were looking for?' You didn't know the guy, and as far as you knew, he didn't know you either.

Seeing your confusion, he proceeded to explain. "It was an educated guess, seeing as you have Fuller's, Richmond's, and Helbert's there. I assumed you were in Thermodynamics 301 and didn't have Priest's."

Spencer laughs before trying to imitate your voice. "Can I buy you a coffee in appreciation and keep you in my purse for future reference?" You nod, smiling.

"Bold of me for asking that to a stranger, uh?"

"Bold of you for thinking I would ever refuse," Spencer says in a mocking tone to match your joke. You both share a fit of laughter. Once it subsides, your eyes fix on him.

"Bold of me to think I wouldn't fall in love with you after all these years." Your words hit Spencer, whose expression changes from light to serious in a second.

"What?"

"It's like they say. At some point, something has to give. And this is my moment." You pause before continuing. "I can't say I'm sure what's coming, because I'm not. I also don't know if what you've seen of me these past few months is worth enough for you to love me again. But there's one thing I do know. I love you. I loved you, I missed you, and now I've loved you again."

Spencer is speechless. His brain tries to piece together each word you say. You take both his hands in yours, and you can feel them tremble.

"If you'll have me, I want to be the one that stays," you add, hoping your words are good enough to convey your emotions.

You don't know when tears start running down your cheeks. It might be when you see Spencer's glassy eyes.

"I do love you. And I want you to be the one who stays," he rasps before releasing your hands to cup your cheeks with his own, leaning down to whisper, "Let me be the person you want to stay for."

"You already are," you whisper back before closing the distance between you, allowing your lips to meet in a tender, sweet kiss. A new promise and a new beginning for two souls that were meant to be. Thanks to fate, or maybe not. That doesn't matter anymore.

As you kiss, part, whisper sweet nothings to each other, and kiss again, not so far away, are two people watching the scene with satisfied looks on their faces.

"Do you see that, Hot Stuff?" Garcia asks Morgan. A smirk appears on his face.

"Yeah, mama. I see it, clear as the day."

"We did it!" Penelope cheers, whisper-yelling, making Morgan chuckle.

"I should never have doubted you, baby girl," the man says, kissing her cheek.

"Of course not. But I forgive you only because I'm so happy our plan worked wonderfully."

-----------

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

Penelope Garcia's curiosity always gets the best of her. She has gotten to know you better in the past months since the IA convention where you met. She sees you as a beautiful person and a good friend. So when you told her on a night full of alcohol about your ex-husband and how important your relationship was for you, Penelope couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to know more, so maybe she could do something to help. Do what? She didn't know, but maybe more information about it would give her an idea.

Quickly typing on her keyboard, she finds a Pasadena Marriage License with your name on it. Checking the date, Garcia notes you had married in the summer before your senior year. It was expected. You already told her that.

What was unexpected, though, was finding out who the person you had married was. Garcia had to read the name twice before realizing the huge discovery she had just made: Spencer Walter Reid.

'No way! It has to be a mistake,' she squealed, fast-reading the information on the papers. No, there wasn't any mistake. You married Spencer Reid almost ten years ago. The same Spencer Reid she has known for so long and works with her every day.

But wait. You had said, ex-husband. Where are the divorce papers?

Typing again, she finds a divorce request signed by you and Spencer a year after you married. So that is true, too.

Overwhelmed by everything she has just discovered, Garcia is about to close the web tabs with all this data when something pops up: it's a court resolution dated six months after the divorce request. The resolution reads that the request has been denied because one of the parts couldn't be notified for comparison to the Pasadena tribunal. Garcia narrows her eyes and types again, looking for an updated legal document granting the divorce request. She finds none.

'Double holy fucking shit! They are still married!'

Without knowing what to do with this new information, she starts pacing frantically in the office. Garcia knows that the information she found wasn't for her to know, but at the same time, how does it not you or Spencer know this? She can't tell you, but she should, or maybe not. Grabbing her phone, she dials the only person she knows will help her with the dilemma.

"Derek Morgan. I need your delicious ass in my office right now!"

And just like that, a plan emerged. A plan to give a little push to destiny. A little push to you and Spencer cross paths again. Maybe this time, for good.

-----------

"And when are you going to tell them about their failed divorce?" Morgan asks Garcia, who is still looking at the couple giggling and kissing.

"Oh, shush. Let them enjoy tonight. There will be time for that."

Derek Morgan shakes his head, laughing. "Okay. You're the boss, mama. You're the boss."

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #babymetaldoll #aperrywilliams #writting challenge

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luxthestrange · 10 months ago

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TWST Incorrect quotes#681 I tell it how it is-

Riddle: Dearest, can I have a piece of the tart in the fridge?

Yuu: What's the rule?

Riddle*Rubs his arms and looks saddened* No tarts...

Yuu: No, that's your Sperm donor and Egg Incubator rules, My rule is you have to bring me one too!~

Riddle*Happily leaves the room but comes back to look at you*...Dearest...can you stop calling my father and mother those names, please?...

Yuu:...Ok, then imma call them "John cena" and "Groomer"-

Riddle*Eyes widen but sigh*...g-go back to the other names, please...

#twst #twst disney #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x yuu #twst yuu #twst heartslabyul #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts x yuu #twst angst #twst fluff #twst incorrect quotes #i was laughing so hard #WRITTING THE NAMES FOR THIS HORRID HUMANS #incorrect quotes

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murdrdocs · 1 year ago

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just read all your imagines and they are so good!! just on here to req anything hobie brown related cos god that man is so fine. maybe like a one-shot where they are fwb cos hobie doest do labels but gets jealous and then asks reader to be his gf and then shows her off to everyone. just like really anything u want to write tbh ✨✨

end of line | h. brown

description. being friends with benefits with your best friend, hobie brown, is fun and all, but you start to realize that maybe firm labels suit you better than whatever this is

includes. slight smut SUGGESTIVE 16+, fem!reader referred to as “girl”, fluff, sweet!hobie, pav gwen and miles mention, rockstar!hobie

a/n: i have no words this was supposed to be uploaded like a week ago but then i went to disney so ... sorry yall. also not edited well bc ... disney. edit: title from the song by daft punk bc tron <3

word count: 1.7k+

things are still in your bedroom. they always are right before he arrives.

you're not a psychic, nor do you have a "spider-sense" (which, with the creepy-sixth sense way hobie described it, you don't want one either), but you like to think that you can tell when he'll come by.

nights when you haven't heard much from him, but the sirens seemed to never stop outside, were usually when your window would creek as it slid up.

you listen out for the sound now as you finish painting your last nail. you'd used the quick dry polish tonight, in hopes that you wouldn't have a repeat of last time, when your fingernails weren't dried but hobie was incredibly impatient and when you were done, you'd realized that your right ring and pinkie fingers were smudged.

the bottle's closed, you'd blown on your nail to ensure it dried, and that's when your window slides open.

there's no point in looking back at him when he tumbles into the room. he starts mumbling complaints as soon as the window's closed, the sound of his shoes unlacing padding his words, something about some common thief who hobie was going to let go but then he went and messed with the lady on the street and her cat.

you'd lost the tail end of his words whenever he started walking closer to you. you sat up straighter, pushed everything out of the way, and waited for him to turn your chair around.

which, when he did, you looked up at him, small smile on your lips as you stared into his deep brown eyes.

"how's your night, hm?" he asked, a courtesy before getting to the real action.

you shrugged, pretending to think. "nothing. just a lot of this."

"no smashing societal standards? picking off misogynists one by one?"

a small laugh in the form of a snort from you. "nah. figured i'd take a day off, you know?" the sarcasm dripping from your words. that's not who you were. you wish you could've been like that, could've been like hobie. but there's one spider-person for a reason.

"oh, yeah, uh-huh..." and hobie trailed off as he leaned in, pointer finger hooking under your chin to pull your lips to his.

it always felt good to kiss hobie.

you'd fantasized about it for weeks before it actually happened. he's your closest friend at the moment, and he occupied the title before this arrangement even existed. and of course you had the worry about ruining your beautiful friendship if you became more, fear that you wouldn't be able to go back and you would subsequently lose probably the best friend you've ever had.

but that was no need to worry. because while you could let hobie pull you up and lead you to your bed, sitting back and pulling you into his lap while he kissed you with a tenderness you know so well, you could also just be friends with him, sitting side by side on the couch and having a movie marathon of horrible biopics without thinking about jumping each other's bones.

there's a balance here that you could only hope would've existed.

and it's never thrown off. not even when he pulls your shirt over your head and his full lips find your nipples and the slightly-faded marks he'd left a few days ago. not even when he switches your position, laying you back and kissing down your torso until he can bury his head between your legs. not even when you whine and cry just a bit, slightly begging for him to pull his suit off so he can fuck into you in a way that only he can.

you try not to think about the equilibrium of your relationship with hobie when your legs hook around his waist and the heels of your feet dig into your lower back. you try to solely focus on the way his cock fills you up perfectly, mostly long with the right amount of girth for your walls, tip reaching deep within you in an almost mind bending way.

but you can't help but think about the way hobie doesn't do labels when he helps you to your bathroom, where he lets the shower heat up while you sit in a shirt he left behind a few days ago when he'd shown up as just hobie brown and not spiderman. you can't help but think about being hobie's girlfriend when his big, veiny hands run along your skin after the shower, smothering you in shea butter as you struggle to hold your eyes open. and you don't bother attempting to fight off the lasting thought of being hobie's while he hums an unknown song to himself with your head on his chest, the deep sound of his voice and the vibration of his chest lulling you to sleep.

you need to be someone's.

the friends with benefits scenario was fun, it worked, it was glorious, but you don't think it's for you. and labels aren't for hobie.

so, you look elsewhere.

you're at hobie's show, standing in the back of the pub with a drink you weren't interested in, with some guy you really weren't all that interested in, either. but he smelled nice, and he seemed nice, and you were just looking to broaden your horizons just a bit.

you and hobie weren't exclusive, but maybe it's a little wrong to flirt with someone else at his show. but you were slightly upset, and craving attention, so it didn't matter.

not until hobie got off stage.

it took a while for him to roam over to you, but even then you were still entertaining the other guy. giggling, tilting your head, batting your eyelashes, your hip popped out and a manicure, that was still fresh, blinging as your hand rested on the bone.

he greets you with a term of endearment that he uses often, but it feels different in this circumstance. you tell yourself that it feels different because you want it to feel different.

"oi, babe! who's this bloke?"

his arm slings over your shoulder and you tense under it. your hands folding over your chest, your smile tightening a little.

“uh this is steven.” your hand reaches out to point to the man, a tight lipped smile spreading onto his lips.

“steven …” hobie repeats the name slowly, and without looking at him you can tell that he’s eyeing the guy up and down.

the air is stiff, the three of you are silent, and unfortunately, steven takes the hint to dismiss himself, and you instantly turn to hobie, a scowl on your face.

“what the fuck, hobes?” you’re pissed, but the nickname still slips off easily.

hobie shrugs and reaches into his back pocket, a cigarette appearing and he sticks it between his lips. instantly, your fingers pluck it out from his mouth, instead putting it in your own back pocket.

instead of looking upset, hobie looks amused. his hands reach out to grab your waist, and you want to give in, but you try to push his hands away instead.

hobie lets you, and you don’t know if your happy or upset with that.

“what’d you mean?”

you stare at him, deadpan, then gesture to where steven had walked away towards.

“you just cockblocked me!”

a cocky grin, almost a little condescending. “i didn’t ‘cockblock’ you, babes. you weren’t trying to get with that guy.” your eyebrow lifts and you can see realization come onto hobie’s face. “oh … you were?”

“yes! of course i was!”

“but why? you are i are together.”

“sure, hobes, but we’re not ‘together’.”

“yes we are.”

“no, we aren’t.”

“why do you think that?”

you suddenly feel a little insecure, eyes scanning the thinning crowd, ears noticing the way the volume in the pub is lowered. “because you’ve never put a label on it, bee.”

another layer of realization. hobie’s hands coming to your waist again, but this time you let him pull you in.

“i didn’t know we needed a label. but you’re my girl. and i’m your guy.”

your body heats up and you bite down onto your lower lip giddily, peeking up at hobie through your lashes.

"thought you didn't like relationships?"

"labels. i don't like labels."

there's a disruption in the atmosphere. goosebumps raise on your skin, the hair on the back of your neck sticks up, and even if you weren't aware internally, the way the magazine you were previously reading floats above the table would've tipped you off.

the portal opens shortly after, but you knew it was coming. it took hobie a while to tell you that he was spiderman, longer to convince you that he was spiderman, and a while longer to convince you of the existence society, and even though you know, you still get a little shocked whenever a portal opens.

he comes through first, thud of his heavy boots against the floor of his flat. the spoon in your mouth clings against the side of the bowl, your free hand reaches out to the tv remote to pause the episode as you look over at hobie.

"oi, didn't know you were still here." is all he says before he's walking over, pulling his mask off on the way, and leaning down. your head tilts up instantly to meet his lips in a kiss, your body warming with the way his hand pushes into the back of the couch, slender but muscular form caging you in.

you expect him to sit beside you and force you to give a recap of the episode, but he stands back, and then three other people come through the portal.

"oh ... are we expecting guests?" surprise sits in your words, the tone amplified when hobie takes your bowl of cereal out of your hands to finish it off himself.

"right," he speaks through mouthfuls, saying your name as an introduction to the other three. "this is pav, miles, and gwendy. spider people." you nod, waving at each.

"this here, is my girlfriend." three sets of spider-eyes widen with the admission and you can already sense what's coming.

"wow, you're pretty. 's nice to meet you."

"i knew it! i could sense the tension as soon as we got here."

"you have a girlfriend? wait. i thought you didn't like labels."

a small smile on your face as you tuck your hands in the pocket of hobie’s sweatshirt that you wear.

in coordination learned from how close you two are, you speak at the same time.

"he doesn't like consistency."

"don't like consistency, mate."

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown smut #hobie brown fluff #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #spider punk #celeste writs mcu #hobiesworld!#hobie brown #spider man across the spider verse

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ogdoadfates · 1 year ago

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There was only one bed/sharing a bed Prompt list

We doing this masterful trope this time lol. Again like always feel free to use for anything.

Person A waking up to a sleeping Person B clinging onto them tightly.

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

Person A waking up to Person B curled up and sleeping on top of them.

"Join me?"

Person A helping calm down Person B who woke up terrified and crying from a nightmare.

First time sharing a bed as a couple.

"Can I join you? I just...I just don't want to be alone tonight."

Whispering "Oh you are going to be very embarrassed when you wake up."

"I don't know, you just make me feel safe."

"It's late and we're tired."

Accidentally falling asleep on the bed to wake up to someone walking in on them.

Person A & B finding out when they wake up that they both cuddle things in their sleep (in this case each other)

"I can take the floor?" "No it's alright, besides it's big enough for the both of us."

Person A idly playing with Person B's hair while they are asleep.

Person A waking up to notice Person B was watching them sleep.

Person A staying the night after an event involving Person B.

Person A staying the night to help Person B recover after they were released from the hospital.

"You sure this is okay?"

"Do you want me to stay?"

"This okay?"

"It's alright, I'm here."

"Weirdly, the best sleep I've ever had."

#there was only one bed #fanfiction prompt #story prompts #writing prompts #prompts #prompt #free to use prompts #fluff prompts #fluff #hurt/comfort prompts #hurt/comfort #ao3 fanfic prompts #ao3 prompt #writting prompt #dialogue prompt #sentence prompts #sentence starters #romantic prompts #romance prompts

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andreaheartscats · 1 month ago

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Imagine Ellie and you being gym buddies.

imagine her supporting you while trying to lift heavy weights "go babe! you can do it"

imagine her always looking over at you while you're too focused on your work out to even notice Ellie staring at you, just admiring you.

imagine her spotting you while deadlifting. (screaming rn)

imagine seeing Ellie all sweaty after working out.

Imagine her motivating you even when you don't feel like going to the gym.

Imagine you and her flexing infront of the mirror together and laugh at eachother

Imagine Ellie making sure you cover your bum from all the creeps in the gym

Imagine her carrying you to the car after hitting legs. (screaming)

short + with a little spice ;)

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radio-fmm · 9 months ago

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A world we are both in

Portgas D. Ace x fem!reader

Warnings: none this is honestly so self indulgent, pure fluff with fem reader

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: A heartfelt conversation with Ace in a open field

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The sun kissed you gently, you soaked in its warm rays and internally thanked the breeze that danced with the trees for helping you feel fresh and secure. The almost musical waves of the ocean could be heard at the distance like a so familiar melody, you opened your arms and took in a big breath. This were your only moments of true real happiness, where nothing in the world could bother you, or so you thought.

“What’s with your face?” a shadow hovered over you which made you groan, slowly opening your eyes you were graced with the view of your commander and dear friend Ace, you scoffed before rolling around to land on your belly in the grass and hid your face in your own arms “What’s with yours? Oh right! That’s just how your face is” you answered him playfully before closing your eyes and sighing loudly so maybe your friend would take a hint that you wished to go back to your peaceful activities with silence.

Ace’s gaze lingered, watching you as he wondered what troubled your mind. This past few weeks you had been behaving quite out of your character, you were quieter and wishing to be alone way more than usual.

One of the main reasons you and Ace had become inseparable was because you would always be there for him, you would joke along in his silly games or you’ll be there to listen to whatever troubled him. And when he didn’t wanted to talk and just seek companionship, you’ll talk about your past or silly hobbies you had seemed to be enjoying at the moment, spark conversations about anything and everything and Ace’s favorite one was when you would allow yourself to be vulnerable and pull down the strong walls you had build around yourself, and pulling down his at the same time.

Upon first meeting you he realized you were strong and independent which obviously he found absolutely attractive and you were gorgeous too, he thought he was seeing an angel on the Moby Dick’s deck when you first arrived. Then as he would spend more time around you and actually getting to know your character, he saw you were also soft, creative, caring, romantic, funny and extremely kind. But sometimes you seemed to fail to see that for yourself.

He carefully sat down beside you to not stir you out of your peacefulness “So are you gonna tell me what’s wrong or should I tickle you till’ you tell me?” another loud sigh was heard as you rolled over again to look up at his black eyes, there was worry camouflage by a teasing grin, he wanted you to talk to him without scaring you away like a bird outside a window.

“Have you ever loved, Ace?” Oh so you were the one asking questions now? The commander was taken aback by the question and almost embarrassed, he really thought about what words was he gonna allow spill out of his mouth, something he rarely did “Yes, I love my brothers and my friends and my crew” he was met with a giggle that softened him after he had stiffened at your blunt question, he smiled to himself at the sound of your laugh, something he always seemed to seek “I mean yeah of course but like… romantically” both of your eyes drifted from him and stared at the sky as you felt the warm settle in your cheeks and ears.

A comforting silence accompanied by the loud wind and waves of the ocean fell upon the two of you, Ace’s heartbeat quickening could be heard if you really focused your senses. Where were you going with this? “I- uhm…” Ace was choking on his own words “What does this have anything to do with my question that I asked first, sweetheart?” The pet name made your stomach stir with wild butterflies and your eyes quickly shifted to the fire fist who had a grin planted on his stupid face, he knew you too well.

Truth was what was bothering you was him. Portgas D. Ace was a man beloved by almost everyone that met him, he was charming, playful, energetic, confident, extremely handsome and a man with strong ideals so of course you had taken a like to him when you first met. You still remember how he eagerly introduced himself to you, taking his hat off and doing a stupid reverence which immediately made you laugh and roll your eyes. He was endearing but as you would spend more of your days and nights around the commander, that simple ‘liking’ and ‘endearment’ had turned into something more, something that you could not hide.

Awake at night in haunted you, the idea that you loved that reckless pirate and how he would probably never reciprocate, you weren’t the type Ace would fall head over heels for, you were introverted by nature, artistic at heart, strong minded and always seemed to be enjoying yourself more around your hobbies and mundane activities rather than drinking in loud bars which was a place he would frequent. Ace was so wild, feared and always the life of the party while you were overlooked and quiet.

Nevertheless, you remained a little hopeful as he started to slowly show a different side of him. He wasn’t confident all the time, self hatred blinded him and resented the world you both had been born in, it had failed him. Ace shared a piece of his soul with you that no one outside his closed doors ever knew, and you kept it safe.

“Sometimes I feel like I am not capable of love” you made a stop to try and find the correct words “In the sense that I feel no one is ever gonna be capable of loving me, like really love me… which is funny because I am someone that loves love, and loves a lot. I love nature, I love art I love the people around me, I love life”

The fire fist clung at every word and read onto every letter that you had just spoken. Ace always felt like an outsider, miss placed in a world that hated him for something he was not at fault; but with you, it was like two puzzle pieces that fit in perfectly, while he loathed his life, you loved it, celebrated it, embraced it and brightened it. You complemented each other perfectly

Ace was pulled out of his daze as you got up the grass stretching and clearing your throat, his eyes never leaving you “But I am just rambling and being ridiculous aren’t I?” a nervous giggle escaped your lips as you took in the beautiful view of the field one last time

“Well, we should probably get going, freckles” you offered him a hand to get up which he took without hesitation, but didn’t move. A mischievous smile decorated his features before in a swift move he pulled of your hand with enough force to tackle you on top of him, then rolled over caging you beneath him “Yeah you sound ridiculous” he whispered on top of your face, both of your eyes aligned his exploring yours eagerly before turning to your lips, you wiggled beneath him trying to escape as nervousness took over your body, face bright red. Using both your hands in his chest you tried pushing him out but he didn’t even flinch, only his hat falling beside you “Ace stop! I told you what you wanted! Don’t start” your eyes now frantically tried to escape his “Sounds ridiculous…” One of his hands traveled to your jaw to keep you in place and to make you look at him again “because a world where you’re not loved, is one I don’t exist”

Time slowed down, your mind only able to pick up the gentle breeze that lulled both of your bodies and your heart that threatened to jump out of your ribcage. Your breaths mixed together, hands still on Aces chest and eyes glistening, the sun in the sky being the only witness of this moment. Your mouth opened but words failed to come out, Aces hand let go from your jaw to remove hairs from your face, his gaze soft and sweet “Ace…” before you, his name always seemed to ring in his ears like an awful sound, but now the way you called him was like a spell, the most wonderful symphony he had ever heard. Both of your hands grabbed his face before slowly kissing his lips, shyly but full of love and intention. At the action Ace lost control and let his whole weight crash only deepening the kiss, you could feel the smile forming on his lips before attacking yours, he had been waiting a long time to feel them, to love you out loud.

Both your lips separated as you gasped for air and in between giggles you said “Took you long enough, thought I was gonna have to show up with a guitar outside your door” Ace scoffed playfully before hugging you and rolling around the field, both of you laughing as you went down. You landed on top of him, admiring his beautiful face painted with freckles and a happy smile “I would have loved that actually” you rolled your eyes “I love you but I rather not be the laughing stock of the whole crew thank you very much” he dramatically gasped “Oh so you do love me, awww”

You tried to get up and leave but he held your waist tight, afraid you’ll fly away and leave him behind. Ace laughed at loud at your slightly embarrassed expression before sitting up, facing you then gently pressing his forehead in yours “You do right?” He whispered ever so softly, both teasing and a little insecure still not believing he deserved unconditional love, specially from someone like you “I am yours” you answered without missing a beat taking both his hands in yours “Would you be mine?”

Yes, in this and every world

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Masterlist

Yea yea I love him ok? Give me a break. This was written with my singer!reader in mind of the first ever Drabble I posted here so do whatever you want with that. As always feel free to request and correct me, English is not my first language

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funkyplantguy · 2 months ago

Note

established relationship scarian where scar finds A Creature of some sort (dealer's choice) and starts in on the whole "Can we keep it?? 🥺🥺" routine to grian

i was originally going to go with a cat, then a baby warden (listen idk) then an ACTUAL baby...then landed on this (and giggled and kicked my feet the entire time as i wrote it). hope you enjoy :D

scar: g scar: grain scar: grian scar: light of my life scar: where are you? scar: i have gift grian: fishing dock scar: shoulda guessed scar: be there soon <3

grian stretched, quietly groaning to himself as his back (and wings) crackled in delight at the movement, tired of the endless hunching they’d endured over the past several hours. a gift from scar (especially an unexpected one) was sure to be…interesting. they’d been together long enough that scar knew what grian liked, of course…but sometimes…the “gifts” his partner would bring him would be more for scar’s own personal amusement than anything else.

not that he really minded, of course. not when that meant getting to see scar light up like a kid on christmas. scar was always so full of life - always giggling over something or other - and it just reminded grian of why he’d fallen in love with him in the first place. and honestly, that was gift enough for him.

despite all of that, he wasn’t quite expecting scar to bring him something...alive.

grian heard the chirping from the small bundle in scar’s arms before the man had even landed, and couldn’t help the inquisitive trill that forced its way out of him in response. and that, of course, set scar off - mimicking the noise with his own (very human) vocal cords (which only served to produce a melody akin to being strangled). he stared at grian with wide eyes as he touched down, and grian felt his cheeks burn under his gaze.

“g! i’ve never heard you make that noise before - that was so cute, do it again!”

“no,” grian chirped back, then pressed his hand against his mouth as scar laughed in delight. “scar - what is that?”

“it’s a baby!” scar responded, moving closer and tilting the bundle in his arms towards the avian. “look - it’s a little you!”

grian uncovered his mouth to retort - he very much doubted that scar had somehow found a baby avian wandering around hermitcraft - but another quiet chirp caught his attention, and he found himself leaning forward to peer over scar’s arms. and there, nestled in a pile of soft, brown blanket, was the ugliest baby parrot grian had ever seen in his life. and yet..and yet…

grian didn’t even realize that he was whistling until the baby returned his birdsong, eager little chirps and gurgles spilling out of its little fleshy beak. it tilted its head up at grian, blinking, and grian offered up a trembling finger into the makeshift nest. the chick nuzzled against it, purring softly, and something in grian’s heart felt like it might burst. he raised his face to his partner, and found scar’s gaze transfixed - but not on the parrot in his arms, but him. their eyes locked, and scar offered him a smile - something soft and warm, something that made grian want to kiss him more than anything in the world.

“can we keep it?” he whispered, and grian let out a short (wet) laugh.

“i…scar, where…where did you even find it? it’s so little…i can’t imagine its mama would have been far; she’s probably worried sick…do you really want to take the little guy from his mama?”

scar’s lower lip wobbled (and grian felt like he might be the worst person in the entire world for it).

“he didn’t have a mama! i sat and watched and waited for hours, gri, and nobody came for him…he was just all alone, on a branch in the jungle, and i got worried that something was going to come along and eat him! and…well…i figured you’d know how to take care of him. given that you’re…y’know.”

he gestured toward grian’s colorful wings with one hand, and grian’s feathers rippled obediently in show for his lover. from scar’s arms, the tiny bird chirped again, raising its little head and struggling to flap its wings in the same way grian had fluttered his. scar looked down to the parrot, then up to grian, eyes wide and sparkling as he jutted out his lower lip.

“see! he agrees! he wants you to be his new mama!”

(and if grian’s heart fluttered in his chest at the suggestion of being a mother, that was no one's business but his own. that was a topic to be discussed later - much later, in the warmth of each other’s arms and the shield the darkness their room offered for grian's vulnerability)

“we could name him…um…jeffrey!”

“scar - we are not naming our son jeffrey.”

“our son???!??” scar parroted back, jerking his head up from where he had dipped it to stare down at the chick in his arms. “our son??? so…we can keep him? really? you mean it?”

“yes, scar. i mean it,” grian responded, smiling softly at the hopeful peep from the newest member of their little family. “we can keep him.”

(and the way scar pulled him into a kiss, then, was the greatest gift of all)

#i love writing fluff i love writing fluff i love writing fluff i love writing fluff i love writing fluff i love writing fluff i love writ #i also love scarian. they are so special to me. they are so precious to me. they are so <3 #i'm watching bridgerton writing this btw. it's actually really good i didn't think that i'd like it but i'm enthralled #anyway i want to write a scarian kid fic now #someone hold me back from giving them a Child #this is also partially mochi's fault. mochi i am shaking my fist at you /silly #goodtimeswithscar #grian #scarian #hermitshipping #no background cumbo whoa what's gotten into me #plant writes #plant answers

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sexualtensiongrowing21 · 6 months ago

Text

Prompt: “Can I kiss you?”

Isaac Lahey X Reader Pt. 2

TW; None?

Word Count: 1341

Part One

AN: I decided to finally write part 2! I cant say its the most favorite thing I have written but I no longer hate everything about it! Enjoy!

That night you asked Isaac for his jersey so you could wear it to school. All the players' girlfriends wear their away jerseys to school the day of the game. This caught him off guard but he obliged with a wide smile on his face. He didn't want to admit it, but he has been dreaming of seeing you wearing his jersey since he joined the team.

Walking into school you spot Matt walking towards you from the other end of the hall. Thankfully, you see Isaac standing at his locker talking to Scott and Stiles. ‘Perfect’ you think and walk up beside Isaac with a huge smile on your face. You lean up on your tiptoes giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Good morning.” You hum sweetly intertwining your fingers in with him and smile at the boys across from you.

Isaac is surprised as he stammers out “Uh- G-good morning.” His face is flushed and he's grateful you don't have werehearing as you would be able to hear the fast beat of his heart. You have always had this effect on him though.

“About time!” Stiles exclaims patting Isaac on the shoulder while walking away with a laugh, making you roll your eyes at the spastic boy. Matt pauses taking in the sight before him. You can barely make out the angry expression on his face, before he continues on down the hall.

You hangout listening to the boy talk about the next supernatural creature trying to kill us all. As the bell rings, you tell Isaac you will see him later and once again kissing his cheek and walking away to your first class.

Once you walk away your brain won't stop buzzing. Did you really just kiss Isaac? Why have you waited all this time to be this close to him?

“What the hell was that?” Scott asks Isaac, pulling him from his obvious stare of your ass, as you walk down the hall. Isaac furrows his brows. “W-what are you talking about? We--uh. We are dating.” Isaac explains unconvincingly, while scratching the back of his neck.

Scott laughs, dramatically wiping a fake tear from under his eye. “Right. You’re dating Y/N. Sure. You know I can tell when you're lying right?” Scott reminds him. With a heavy sigh, Isaac tells Scott the truth. That you needed his help to get Matt off of your back and that it was your idea.

“Dude, you're so screwed. You can't fake date Y/N. You're totally in love with her.” Annoyed with the truth in the words that his Alpha / best friend stated, he rolls his eyes. “I know. But she needed help. I can't say no to Y/N.” Isaac pauses, thinking about how good you looked in his jersey. “Plus, did you see how hot she looked in my jersey?” He adds with a sheepish smile.

Scott pats his back with a laugh, starting to walk to his next class. “You're hopeless.”

Isaac has to keep reminding himself of this favor. But he can't help that it is making him fall for you even more. When this is over he knows he will be forever ruined, as your touch will linger on his body forever.

The rest of the day went by in similar fashion. Every time you would spot Matt, you would immediately find Isaac and kiss his cheek, hug him, or even hold his hand. Anything to convince Matt you two are dating. Which in turn has convinced the whole school. Though, that wasn't hard as everyone either thought you two were already dating or waiting for you two to date.

You couldn't lie, everything about being this intimate with Isaac felt… Natural. Like this is something you two should have been doing for years.

The game starts soon and you go to your locker to put your books away. You see Matt walking towards you and you start frantically looking around the hall, then it hits you, Isaac is in the locker room getting ready.

Taking a deep breath you turn back to face Matt. “Oh. Hello Matt.” Matt smiles wide looking you up and down, sending a wave of nausea through you. Something about him has always given you the creeps. “Y/N! I've been trying to get you alone all day. It seems Isaac and you were attached at the hip today.”

“Well, yes. That makes sense since we are dating.” You laugh nervously, shutting your locker hoping you can get out of this conversation quickly. Matt's face drops a little “Well, that makes sense. I mean the way he looks at you--” You cut him off. “What do you mean? How does he look at me?”

He laughs “He has always looked at you like you're the only person in the world. It's obvious he's in love with you. I just thought you weren't interested in him.”

During the whole game you had to keep reminding yourself that this was just to get Matt off your back. But now that he knows, you two can stop… But did you actually want to stop?

There's only 4 seconds left on the clock and Scott passes to Isaac. Knowing that he can hear you with his werehearing, you stand up cheering loudly for your best friend boyfriend. He dodges the two players coming after him and throws the ball at the net. The buzzer goes off just as the ball is in the air. It's as if everything is in slow motion, then slap. The ball makes it in the net.

The crowd goes wild. Allison is cheering for Scott, Lydia for Stiles. And you. For Isaac. Before you can think about what you're doing, you're running to the field heading straight for Isaac. Sensing you're near he rips his helmet off and opens his arms wide with that big goofy grin that you love on his face.

His hair is covered in sweat sticking to his head but you can't seem to bring yourself to care. You wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he catches you and spins you around. When you start to pull away you look into his ocean blue eyes. When he looks down at you, you see the love in his eyes. The way that he will do anything for you, and you him.

Ignoring the hammering of your heart, your hands snake up into his hair, pulling gently off the shorter strands on his neck. You swear you can hear him groan as you lean your head in and your lips meet his. The butterflies in your stomach expand, reaching every part of your body as you both move incense.

Isaac feels as if the world stops and it's as if you're the only two on the field. His hands move from around your back down to hold tightly onto your ass, keeping you flush against him. He doesn't know what brought on this show of affection, but who is he to deny the girl he loves.

Swallowing the anxiety bubbling within, you slowly lean your forehead down to Issacs. “Y/N, can I kiss you?” He whispers. His heart is beating faster than it ever has before. He is sure that Scott will give him shit for it later, but at this moment, he cant find himself to care. Being here, holding his best friend girlfriend, in his arms. This is the only place he would rather be.

Without thinking, you immediately smash your lips to his. You can barely make out the cheers from your friends around you. All that you are able to focus on is Isaac. The way his lips move perfectly against yours, his hands on your ass.

When you both finally pull away and he puts you down, you keep your hands around his neck. “So…. Are we not pretending anymore?” You ask breathlessly looking up into his bright blue eyes, trying your hardest not to get lost in them.

“I never was.” He breaths.

If you’re interested in being on my taglist, please let me know!

My requests are open!

Isaac Lahey Taglist ~ @folklorde24 @rachlovesactors

#isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey #isaac lahey oneshot #teen wolf imagine #teenwolf #Isaac Lahey fluff #isaac lahey x y/n #isaac lahey x you #teenwolf oneshot #wanna be writer #writters on tumblr #writting prompt

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indigonite · 25 days ago

Text

currently going for ep 194 of magnus archives

I’m not ready for what awaits me am I

#i have absoltely no fucking clue about how this is going to end #is jon going to madoka himself?#probably worse #its def worse #im writting this while on toilet break at work im so nervous i NEED TO FINISH THIS #then onto fluff fics to fill the void #is jon madoka

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sourlemonsprout · 9 months ago

Note

just imagine Alphonse and Seth’s individual reactions to finding out Sugarboo snorts when they laugh. Like you know they’re holding back for a bit when Seth first started staying with them but then Al was like “hey y’know they’ve got a snort laugh right?” and Seth demands proof (he believes it he just wants to see it for himself)

Alphonse x Seth x Boo (gn!reader)

Thank you so much for all the love and requests!!

Word Count: 862

──────༺♡༻──────

The sun had just begun to set, casting a warm golden glow across the living room where you sat comfortably snuggled into your boyfriend's side in one of your wide chairs in the living room.

"Are you sure you're okay sleeping down here on the couch, Seth?" you asked. "If you need a break, you can always take the bed. Or I can look for a sleeping bag somewhere around here." You turned your head away, trying to remember if you even had a sleeping bag anymore.

"No, no, it's alright. I'm fine Sugar, really," he assured you.

"I truly appreciate you lettin' me crash here," he said rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's no problem, really!" you assure him.

"I think he actually prefers camping to a warm bed. If you gave him a sleeping bag, you might have to go searching for him in the woods." Al said, drawing a light giggle from you, to which you brought a fist up to cover your lips.

"You laugh but it's true!" Seth nodded.

"To each their own I suppose, I'd gladly take a cozy bed any day over a tarp and sleeping bag." Al shrugged.

"Speaking of cozy, I'm gonna go change into some comfier clothes," you pat Al's leg before hopping up. Seth's gaze follows your figure as you hop up the stairs and disappear out of sight.

"You good?" Al asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Huh, oh, yeah." Seth shook his head slightly, a little flustered that he'd been caught staring.

"Uh huh, your face was lookin' a little pink there for a second." Al pried.

"Well, ya' know, they've got a nice laugh," he admitted quietly.

"It's uh, been a while since I heard a laugh like that," he said with his mouth drawn in a faint smile, the edges of his deep brown eyes grew soft.

"Oh yeayea," Al nodded.

The boys sat in comfortable silence, taking in the moment and appreciating the calmness around them. It had been a long time since they had felt so at ease in each other's presence. There wasn't the slightest hint of tension, regret, or anger between them. They had finally found a moment of respite, and it was all thanks to the sunshine that you had brought into their lives.

"You know they snort when they laugh hard enough?" Alphonse broke the silence. Seth spun his head to face Al, his eyebrows furrowed slightly with disbelief.

"Really?"

"Mmm, it's true." Al nodded. A flicker of light danced across his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, "I remember bein' a little shocked the first time I heard it. But I gotta admit, everything's just so much funnier with a laugh like that," he recounted, a warm smile spreading across his face. The more Seth thought about it, he could totally picture you snorting while you laughed, and oh he longed to hear it.

"Well, I just have to believe it when I hear it for myself," he stated matter-of-factly.

"I know they've been hiding it, but I'll see if I can break them," Alphonse said with a smirk.

It wasn't long before you entered the living room, wrapped in fresh pajamas and holding a blanket, there was a spring in your step as you walked.

"Here, I brought down this extra blanket for you," you said, chucking the soft grey blanket that you were holding onto his lap before collapsing on a chair.

"It's startin' to feel like a slumber party up in here," Al said, bumping his hands up with a silent 'whoop-whoop'.

"You guys wanna watch a movie?" you ask, eyes angling for the remote before the boys were nodding their heads.

"Alriiiight!" you say with a huff as you slap both needs and bend forward to get up.

"Jesus, you stand up like a Midwestern dad," Al laughs as he mimics your actions dramatically, leaving you two giggling at one another like children. As Alphonse continues to mock you for 'being an old man', your giggles turn into full-blown laughs until a small snort escapes your mouth, which has you doubling over, grabbing onto Al's arm for support as you cover your mouth with your other hand. Just as Seth thought he couldn't adore you anymore, you reveal a laugh like that. He loved how your face glowed with euphoria as you clutched at your sides, trying to regain oxygen in your lungs. Your infectious laughter filled the room, causing Seth to chuckle, unable to resist the joyful atmosphere that surrounded them. The more you snort, the harder y'all laugh.

Once you were able to breathe properly and stand upright, you gave Al a little kiss on the side of his cheek and snatched the TV remote off the coffee table.

"Alright you two, what're we watchin'?" Seth asked, still unable to wipe the grin off his face.

"Nothin' scary, I'm lookin' at you Boo," Al opined, shooting you a side-eye.

"Maybe a comedy?" Seth suggested. The corner of your mouth curled into a smile as you squinted at him.

"You're just trying to get me to snort again, aren't you?" you chirp.

"…maybe"

──────༺♡༻──────

The End <3

#yuurivoice #yuurivoice fandom #yuurivoice stuff #yuurivoice fanfic #fanfic #yuurivoice seth #yuurivoice alphonse #yv fanfic #seth yuurivoice #alphonse yuurivoice #yuurivoice boo #writting #fluff #req #gn reader #sourlemonsprout

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exoticb-utters · 11 days ago

Text

So this is Love?

“Flufftober” series. 5 All Smite X Reader Part 1/3 Word Count: 1.7k

Writing this for self indulgent purposes…enjoy ;)

You huffed in frustration, wiping the water that relentlessly poured down your face from the heavy rain. A crack of thunder is heard overhead as your heels clack against the ground.

Knew I should’ve brought an umbrella to work today…

You stomp your way home, silently chastising yourself for forgetting that it would be raining today- well, technically tonight. Fortunately, you didn’t live too far away.

Just as you pass an alleyway, you heard a cough. You slow down your movements, turning your head to the ominously dark path.

“H-hello?” You call out, not sure if you wanted a response in this situation.

Instead, another cough rings out from the darkness, this one sounding more ragged and…wet?

“D-do you need help? It’s raining pretty hard out here…” You trail off, lifting a hand over your eyes to block the cold water from running down your face further.

Nothing fills the silence this time.

You take a deep breath before exhaling with a sigh. Just your luck.

You turn on your heel and walk into the abyss. The night sky and even darker clouds did nothing to help you see in this alley, but there were some (barely) functional streetlights behind you.

You spot a large figure, kneeling behind a dumpster in a hunched over position. “Sir, a-are you hurt?” You ask, nervously approaching the stranger.

What were you doing? This is crazy! You, a single woman, are approaching a random man in an alleyway for crying out loud!

Another sickly cough is ripped from his lungs, his chest heaving as a crimson liquid spills out onto the pavement beneath him.

Well, this random man in the alleyway clearly needs help. Your brain reminds you. As a nurse, it was hard to ignore your moral code. Guess old habits die hard.

With another sigh you bend over, inspecting him further. You almost immediately notice a large gash on his side. You quickly cover your mouth to hide your gasp.

“You’re hurt!” You exclaim as your eyes flickered over his body, searching for any extra injuries.

“Well, obviously.” The man before you sneers, his voice deep and…slightly intimidating if you were being honest. He hacks once more, another concerning amount of blood splattering against the ground as he did so.

“Here, let me help you.” You offer your hand. Who were you kidding, this guy was a literal giant- no wayyou were lifting him up.

You see his head tilt to the side, as if he were giving you a once over before scoffing.

“Come on, you’re seriously hurt, can you walk?” You question, slightly retracting your hand.

“Yeah…probably.” He answers almost shakily, all previous attitude in his tone gone.

“Well, you can’t just sit here and bleed out so up you go!” You huff, taking his hand in an unsuccessful attempt to lift him to his feet.

He sighs to himself before pushing himself up, standing on his feet now.

And holy shit was he tall.

“Lean on me if you have to, my apartment’s closer than the hospital so I’ll fix you up there okay?” You say softly, looking up at him to make sure he was okay.

You found he was already looking down at you. His thick blonde brows were furrowed in an unreadable expression as blood ran from his forehead to his chin. You felt a shiver run down your spine at his intense gaze. You quickly brushed it off, not letting yourself overthink the action.

“I’ll take that as a yes…” You answer for him, the heavy pitter-patter of the rain drowning out any surrounding sounds other than your soft tone.

“It’s just down the street.” You lead him out the alleyway, his large arm slung across your shoulder awkwardly as he held his injured side.

You’re given a curt nod as he hobbles next to you. The sight of your predicament was truly an unruly one, thankfully, the hour of this rainy night prevented anyone from being outside to witness it.

In record time, you made it to your small home. You helped him up the stairs before opening the front door.

“You don’t lock your doors?” Whether it was a look of astonishment or disdain he was giving you, you couldn’t tell.

“Um…no? Is that weird?” You reply, chuckling to yourself. You led him to your living room, motioning for him to sit on the couch while you looked for your med-kit.

“Well, seeing how there are villains around these parts that could break in at any time while you’re away- yes. It is very weird.” He says matter-of-factly while you fished through the bathroom cabinets.

You snort out a laugh from the other side of the house at his reply, coming back with the kit and rag in hand. He then plopped down on the sofa, the furniture dipping in from his size with a dangerous groan.

“Well, with heroes around I guess I haven’t found a reason to lock it.” You hum with a shrug, sitting next to him on the coach.

“Lift your shirt for me.”

He did so reluctantly, revealing a deep gash with blood spilling from it. You sharply inhale through your teeth as you hold your rag against the wound.

“You need a better bed-side face doc.” He quips, a huff of amusement leaving his lips. If the room wasn’t so quiet, you might’ve missed it.

Wait a minute…Did he see you leave the hospital? No, that’s impossible how did he know you were a nurse? Your gaze then flew to his in shock. “How did you…?”

“You still have your tag on, you know that right?” He muses with a raised brow.

Oh.

Well, that makes more sense.

You’re taken by surprise when he slowly reads your name aloud. “Hm, a villain could’ve definitely used your identity against you. You need to be more careful, y/n.” He repeats, your name almost sounding natural coming from his lips.

“Seems to me that you’re awfully paranoid.” You retort, removing the bloodied rag and taking out the gauze.

“Or you could just be extremely reckless.” He counters as you begin to stuff the wound to prevent further bleeding.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” You say finally, wrapping medical cloth around his midsection.

A comfortable silence fell over you, nothing being heard but the quiet rain from outside. His gaze eventually fell over you. He’d never had someone so gentle with him, All Smite. The number one villain. Clearly you didn’t know his infamous title, or you wouldn’t have him in your home right now.

He liked it, the break from not instantly being recognized as the number 1 villain in Japan. Maybe he’ll even thank you for your hospitality.

You tape up the wrap, making sure it wouldn’t move. “Okay, that should hold until the morning when I can take you in for proper treatment at the hospital.” You say while wiping your hand against your forehead, some light sweat forming after the work.

“Let me know if you bleed through the wraps, I’ll change it out whenever okay?” You spare a quick glance at the man in front of you, zipping up the medical equipment.

He looks down at the bandaging, fingers lightly brushing over the material. Another beat goes by before he speaks. “Thank you.”

“Of course!” You manage, giving him a quick, biter-sweet smile. “I’ll have to make my way to bed now. I wake up early for my next shift.” You say with an exhausted sigh.

He raises a brow at your words. It was already late, and to think you would be waking up early for another shift was quite the absurd thought to him.

“How many hours do you work?” He asks, your eyes meeting to his in surprise.

“Usually around 40-50 a week, I’m always on call during the week but I get weekends off so…” You say with a shrug.

He shakes his head. That was…objectively too much. Before he has a chance to respond you’re already speaking again. “Well, goodnight! You’re welcome to sleep in the spare bedroom if you’d like.” You offer, motioning to a room down the hall.

He nods slowly, watching you walk down a different hallway to where he’d assume were your own personal quarters.

How interesting you were. Interesting and extremely naive. Not only did you just bring the most feared man in all of Japan inside your own home without even realizing it, you gave him hospitality and left him unattended.

He chuckles to himself, standing up before walking to the spare room you were talking about.

Opening the door he is meet with a twin bed adorned with white sheets and a single pillow. Other than the bed and a small coffee table next to a window, the room was utterly bare.

He hummed to himself, sitting on the bed while looking at the window. He watched the water run down the glass tranquilly, lightning flashing in the distance every so often.

He didn’t think he’d stay until morning, but resting his eyes here couldn’t hurt. There was something warm and endearing about your presence. Something he didn’t even know he was missing until encountering you.

He’d keep an eye on you, someone who doesn’t lock their doors is sure to be prone to robbery...or some form of villainy. As the man of crime himself, he knew this all too well, more than anyone else.

He took off his shoes, setting them next to the bed. He laid back into the mattress, the bed frame creaking loudly under his weight.

Even though his ankles were well off the edge of the bed, he couldn’t recall a time where he’d been this comfortable; so at peace.

He closed his eyes, he’d stay here and rest.

At least for a little bit.

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aperrywilliams · 27 days ago

Text

The Science Under Suggestion (Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader)

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Author Masterlist | Event Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader.

Summary: Emily's sister is now in DC and meets her sister's colleagues for the first time. She makes a special connection with Spencer, and everything looks perfect until it doesn't. Will her reasons bury any chance between them?

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: None.

A/N: Part of the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge @babymetaldoll and I are hosting during October.

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I swear DC airport is bigger every time I step one foot on it. Maybe it's that or the ten-hour flight in my body doing everything extremely exhausting.

As I wait for my luggage, the only things I can think of are a bed and a nap.

Why am I here, though? Well, I'm starting a new job on Monday. After graduating, I stayed in California in a semi-formal position for a couple of months, but I thought it was time to change that.

Although I don't know anything about DC, my older sister has lived here for some years now, so she offered me a spare room and shelter until I could set up by myself.

And speaking of my sister, she is already waiting for me in the airport lobby.

"Bootsy!" she calls me to get my attention as I look around for her familiar face.

"Em!" I called back when I finally spotted her; I ran hazzardly, dropping my suitcases to hug her tightly.

Four years is a long time without seeing your sister. And even if we agreed at a younger age that we would live our lives on our terms, it doesn't mean we don't miss each other.

"It's so good to see you!" Her words are emphasized with a squeeze in our embrace.

"It's good to see you, too. And thank you for having me in your place. I swear I'll find somewhere to live as soon as I can."

Something I don't want to do is to impose; Emily has been thoughtful enough with me.

"Don't be silly. You can stay for as long as you want. Now, come on; I'm sure you fancy a shower and a nap right now."

On our way to her apartment, we use the time to catch up on the last months. As I recounted details about this job offer, she told me about her job as an FBI profiler.

It's funny in some way because even if we live apart and don't talk frequently, it feels the same as the last time we saw each other.

After a shower and a nap, I feel much better. When I look into the living room, I see Emily talking on the phone. "Today? Rossi, I can't. My sister just arrived DC."

Rossi? I think I've heard that name before.

"Okay. I'll ask her anyway."

Frowning still, I look at Emily once she hangs up the phone.

"The team is having dinner at one of my colleagues' house tonight. Come with me?"

I have never met my sister's colleagues, not even from when she worked at Interpol or the local police, much less those from the FBI. That doesn't mean she doesn't mention them from time to time. I know that the boss, Hotch, is serious and strict and that there is a certain Morgan who seems very nice. Emily has also told me a few times about JJ and Penelope and some of their nights out. She also mentioned an Italian man who is like the group's grandfather and the youngest member, who seems to be very intelligent.

"Are you sure you want me there? In a place full of FBI agents where I can embarrass you telling stories about your EMO phase?" I tease, making her snort.

"Ha. Very funny," Emily scoffs. "But I have to remind you it wasn't just a phase, okay?"

Finally, I agreed to go with her. Around 7 p.m., we took an Uber to Rossi's 'house,' which Emily claims is a mansion.

And it is.

And I can't hide my amazement when the owner greets us at the entrance.

“Welcome, my ragazzas! Please come in."

Despite its size, this house feels cozy. Each decoration seems to fit perfectly and makes you feel welcome.

After the usual greetings, Emily takes me to the patio, where laughter can be heard. I feel a little nervous; for better or worse, I will be surrounded by FBI agents who can intimidate anyone.

"Hey guys," Emily calls out, making the attention fall on us. "I want you to know my little sister."

I wave my hand sheepishly.

"Bootsy, this is Hotch, Derek, JJ, Penelope, and Spencer. I have to warn you, though, Hotch is my boss, so be careful about what you are going to say about me, uh?"

A collective laugh erupts from everyone.

"It's nice to meet you all," I greet with a smile that they kindly return.

"It's nice to meet you too," Hotch politely says.

"So you are Prentiss' little sister, uh?" The guy Emily called Derek quips.

"It's great you made it," JJ adds—she is the only one I knew by face from a picture Emily showed me some time ago.

"Bootsy? It's not your real name, isn't it?" The blonde my sister named Penelope asks me. I chuckle, shaking my head and saying my real name.

"But Emily has called me Bootsy since I can remember."

Everyone starts asking regular questions about me before turning to tell them some embarrassing stories about Emily. The only one who hasn't asked anything yet is the guy Emily calls Spencer. It's curious, though, because although he hasn't said a word, he seems very interested in listening to what I have to say.

From Emily, I know he is the youngest team member and very intelligent. What Emily forgot to mention is that, in addition to looking shy, he is quite attractive.

Tall, with messy curly hair, a jaw that could cut glass and gorgeous hazel eyes, it's clear he must attract a lot of attention.

I shouldn't be focusing on my sister's colleague like this, but Spencer is making it difficult for me.

Okay, Bootsy, it's not that terrible either. You are just 'admiring' this human being.

We stay talking until David Rossi announces dinner is ready. Did I say dinner? I correct myself; it is more of a feast.

Emily is sitting on one side, Penelope is on the other, and Spencer is in front. Why do I suddenly feel more nervous? As the conversation flows, I can't help but steal a few glances at him, and I can feel his eyes on me. What is he thinking? That I am a creep scrutinizing him with audacity? I hope he's not noticing it.

Dinner progresses, as does the conversation and the good time. It's refreshing to feel this comfortable. Now I understand why Emily feels so comfy with them.

At one point, I step out onto the patio to get some fresh air and feel the warm May night. It's different than the warmth you get in California this time of year. My eyes are fixed on the night sky when I feel someone behind me. I turn around and see Spencer looking at me curiously.

I frown and tilt my head in fake recollection.

"Spencer, right?"

Sure, like if I don't remember.

"Yes," he says, repeating my name like a question. I nod.

"Yeah. Or Emily's little sister or Mini-Prentiss. Whatever you think is best."

"Bootsy?" He asks, and I chuckle.

"Well, if you like that one, it's okay, too." A wide smile accompanies my answer.

He clears his throat and changes his weight from one toe to the other.

Is he nervous?

"Uh, did you know the word nickname is derived from the middle English' ekename,' literally meaning 'also-name'? They differ from pseudonyms, which are usually used to conceal one's identity. Actually-"

Spencer stops himself from speaking as if he realizes he did something wrong. With a crimson spreading on his cheeks, he starts to apologize.

"I'm sorry. I usually do this, and I know it's unrequited."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Spurting facts," Spencer says, pulling a face.

"You don't have to apologize for that. On the contrary, I find it interesting," I tell him honestly. "What else were you going to say?"

A shy smile precedes his next words.

"Well, nicknames played a significant role before the 13th century in England, where surnames were very uncommon. Physical characteristics played an important role in nicknaming, as people were identified by means of descriptive terms such as barefoot, brown, and Russell, many of which have become common surnames. Nicknaming in Portuguese and Spanish-speaking communities served as a means to distinguish between family members, especially those sharing both a first name and the family name."

Does he really know all that? Emily wasn't lying when she said he was the smart-ass guy in the group.

"Wow. I really didn't know that, and it's really fascinating. Do you study those things?"

"Uh. Ehm. No, but I usually know a lot of things."

Really dude? If so, I could listen to him talk about everything all night.

"That's cool, Spencer."

"Thank you. Uh - can I ask you something, though?"

"Sure."

"Why Bootsy?"

I chuckle. "Curious man I see."

"It's in my nature," Spencer says with a shrug. "But if you don't want to tell me, that's fine," he adds.

"No, no. It's okay. It's not a big deal either," I assure him. "My family says that when I was a kid and wanted something, I was unstoppable. I wouldn't stop chasing the person I wanted something from, and when my words couldn't persuade, I'd make my eyes look like the Puss in Boots cartoon. That's when Emily named me Bootsy. See? Nothing special."

A genuine smile crosses Spencer's face.

"What about you, Spencer? Something embarrasing to share with me?"

That's how we spend the rest of the night, glued to the hip, talking about everything that came to mind. It surprises me how easily and naturally the words flow between us. It's been a long time since something like that happened to me with someone.

Am I overthinking this connection?

I don't know, but Spencer has been nothing short of excellent company tonight. And although I would love to stay and chat with him for a while longer, it's time to go home.

After announcing my departure and thanking him for the night, he stops me before I turn to leave.

"Uh. I'm sorry. Maybe I'm overstepping, but I need to ask. Would - uh, would you like to grab a coffee sometime?"

It's hard not to notice the stutter in his voice and the blush on his face, and he's so adorable I want to kiss him right now. However, I restrain myself and flirtatiously reply that I would love the idea. I ask him to pass me his phone, and I write down my number. "Use it wisely," I tell him, winking before leaving after Emily, who is saying goodbye to everyone.

"Why so smiling?" Emily asks me while we are in the Uber riding back to her apartment.

"Me? I'm not," I refute, and Emily laughs.

"Sure you don't," she says with a knowing look.

In the days that follow, coffee with Spencer is a regular occurrence - as long as they're not on a case out of town, of course.

I think I've already told you the man is attractive. Well, now I have to say that's not even a quarter of what fascinates me about him. He's so caring and understanding, and I could listen to him talk for days.

I've also learned a little more about his story, mainly about his childhood and his career in the FBI. He also knows more about me, and I feel so comfortable that it scares me a little.

I think I like my sister's colleague. Scratch that; I definitely like my sister's colleague.

And I don't want to be cocky, but I think he likes me too. Now, the question is who will make the first move.

I don't have to wait long. Days later, at one of our regular coffee meetings, a no longer so nervous Spencer asks the question I have been waiting for.

"Will you go on a date with me?"

Did I make him wait for my positive answer? Of course not!

Our first date is going great. As always, our conversation flows naturally, and time flies. Spencer has been very gentlemanly, too much for my liking.

Well, if he made the first move, I can make the second.

As we leave the restaurant, I subtly take his hand and intertwine our fingers. Spencer looks at our joined hands and then at my face, and a big grin appears on his face.

We walk the blocks away from my apartment - Emily's apartment, to be precise - enjoying the warm night. We stop in front of the building.

"Here is me," I announce. Our hands are still laced.

"Yeah," he sheepishly acknowledges.

After giving his hand a loving squeeze, I reluctantly let go.

"I had a great night, Spencer," I say, keeping solid eye contact with the man. Those hazel eyes that are driving me insane right now.

"Me too," he whispers, not even blinking. "Can we do this again?"

There is nothing I want more than that.

"Of course we can."

"Great."

And we stand there, silently looking at each other, trying to figure out if there is anything else to say or do.

His eyes subtly fall to my lips, and it's like my heart stops. My breath catches in my throat, and only one thought plagues my head: Kiss him.

Slowly, he leans in, testing the waters. And I do the same to close the gap.

"Dr. Reid? Is that you?"

We both jump when we hear someone talking next to us. Spencer's flushed face turns to the strange, and his eyes wide in recognition.

"Anderson," Spencer mumbles, apparently the guy's name.

After snapping out of my daze, I watch as Spencer exchanges words with the man, but their voices are drowned out by the sound of 'Dr. Reid? Is that you?' in my head.

Dr. Reid? What? Is Spencer a doctor? It can't be!

The color drains from my face, and I don't know what to do. How did I never know that? I don't notice when the man walks away, and a worried Spencer is looking at me.

"There is something wrong?"

Yeah. Now everything is wrong!

"Oh. No. No. Nothing," I stutter. The only thing I want is to run. Escape.

I thought he was perfect. It is unfair.

"Are you sure?"

Of course, Spencer isn't convinced. I wouldn't be either. But right now, I don't care. I just have to get out of here.

"I'm sorry. I have to go," I say suddenly, turning quickly to enter the building. A stunned Spencer watches me go. In the distance, I hear him calling my name, but I don't stop. I run up the stairs. My hands are shaking, and there's a fog in my head that won't let me think.

Breathlessly, I open the door and slam it shut. I press my back against it as I try to breathe.

Oh God. Why? Why?

"Bootsy?"

I don't notice Emily getting up from the couch and approaching me with concern.

I can't talk to her now. I can't speak to anyone now. I go straight to my room with tears streaming down my cheeks.

It couldn't all be so perfect, right?

You've probably heard the phrase: 'They just wouldn't understand.'

That's exactly what I would say now. What seems inexplicable to people is, to me, the source of my dismay right now. After crying all night, I avoid Emily's questions and Spencer's worried calls and texts the next day and the days follow.

I feel bad for leaving Spencer in the dark, and I feel tremendously guilty because he feels responsible. Gosh, he didn't do anything wrong except be a doctor - I checked it on Google - three times!

I can't date a doctor. I just can't.

As the days go by, Spencer's calls and texts stop. I tell myself it's for the best.

The one who isn't willing to accept my evasions is Emily.

One evening, after returning from a case and seeing me on the couch with teary eyes watching The Notebook, she decides that enough is enough.

"The Notebook? Really? Okay, spill," Emily demands, sitting by my side on the couch.

I shook my head in denial. "There is nothing to say, Em. Stop it."

"Nope. I'm not stopping until you tell me why you are like this. Bootsy, I've watched you suffer in silence for days, and it breaks my heart."

Clearly, my words aren't convincing enough, and knowing Emily, she won't let this slide this time.

"What happened with Reid? Did he do something? Because if he did, I'm going to kill him," she threatens, and my eyes widen in horror.

"Emily! No!"

Her peril mode stops, but the frown on Emily's face doesn't disappear. I think it's time to come clean.

"Spencer didn't do anything wrong. It's the opposite, actually." I don't think this is enough clarification, but it's something.

"And that has you reeling? I don't understand."

I huff in frustration. I'm at one step to a childlike tantrum.

"Why he is so perfect?!" I whine, not having in me to keep my composure anymore. Emily's brows furrow in sheer confusion.

"Is he?"

"I mean, yeah! He is so sweet, so caring, and intelligent, and hot. It's unfair, for fuck sake!"

I can stay all night reciting all the good treats Spencer has, and I don't think I could cover them all.

"I don't know if I would say all those things about Reid, but okay. I still don't understand why that is a bad thing."

I roll my eyes. Do I really have to say it?

"He's a doctor, Em! Why is he a doctor?!"

I don't know if Emily's confusion can be greater than what she surely has at this moment.

"Is that a rhetorical question? You know people get a doctor's degree after finishing their PhDs, right?"

I sigh heavily, leaning my head back, eyes on the ceiling. Emily scoots closer, a soft but firm voice leaving her lips.

"Bootsy, you know I love you, but if you don't look at me and start explaining what's gotten into you, I'll have to slap you across the face, okay?"

Still sniffling, I straighten up and look at my sister

"I can't like him, Em. I swore never to date a doctor!"

"Why - What are you talking about?" Emily's eyes change from confused to concerned.

"Do you remember when we went to see that gypsy fortune teller?" My sister narrows her eyes, trying to remember.

"Yes, but that was a long time ago. Were we what? Ten years old?"

I nod, swallowing hard to keep at bay my emotions.

"I was ten, you were twelve. The thing is, I asked her the age at which I would meet the love of my life, and she told me she couldn't tell me. But what she did tell me was I should not fall in love with a doctor. If I did, I was going to suffer, and my life would be a total misery."

Emily's eyes are wide open now in disbelief. I knew this would happen, and that's why I haven't told anyone about this before.

"Bootsy, don't tell me you are doing this because of what a crazy old lady told you fifteen years ago."

"No! I mean, I didn't believe her at the time. But then Randall happened," I whine, downcasting my gaze.

"Randall? Who the fuck is Randall?"

"When I moved to California, I met a guy who was in med school. He was doing his pediatric specialty at the time. We dated. And he broke my heart. And after Randall, I dated Alex, who was doing his PhD in Sociology. He left me, too. After that happened twice, I remembered the fortune teller's words. She was right, Em, so I swore not to make the same mistake again."

"Oh Bootsy, why did you never tell me about those assholes?"

I shook my head in dismissal.

"You were with the Interpol at the time. I wasn't going to bother you with something like that."

"Fuck, Bootsy. You should have told me."

"Em, it's okay-"

"It's not okay! You have been harboring this 'karma' for years, completely unfounded." There's something in Emily's eyes that catches my attention. Regret? Guilt?

"What?" Emily grimaces, and I see her hesitate. Emily Elizabeth Prentiss hesitating? That's new.

"You were so obsessed with Doogie Howser when we were kids. You always said you wanted to be like him or that you were going to marry someone like him. And you talked about it all day long. When we went to the fair, my friend Samantha and I spoke to the fortune teller first and paid her to tell you what you heard."

Emily pauses to gauge my reaction, which I can't even identify. I'm confused, stunned, and hurt all at once.

"I'm so sorry, Bootsy. If I had known how deeply her words touched you and what happened to you afterward, I wouldn't have done it."

"But - but she was right," I mumble with a cracked voice.

"No, sweetheart, she didn't. You just met shitty guys. It's not your fault, and it shouldn't dictate your future either."

It takes me a while to take in Emily's words. What I believed for years was not true, even though the facts pointed to it being so. So what am I left with now? Was it always me making bad decisions?

"Spencer," I mumble suddenly. "Spencer must hate me right now. What did I do, Em?"

"I'm sure Spencer has a lot of feelings for you, but hate isn't one of them," my sister assures me. "And always you can blame on me."

"But Emily, it's so embarrassing. He'll laugh in my face when I tell him why I've been reacting like this these days."

My sister tells me again that Spencer will understand, but I need to talk to him. I must not let this opportunity to clear things up pass me by.

Without a second thought, I get up from the couch, grab my keys and my coat, and head out to explain this mess to Spencer. It's the least I can do, even if he kicks me out afterward.

Following Emily's direction, I quickly arrive in front of Spencer's apartment door. I stand there with my fist, ready to knock.

Breathe, Bootsy. Breathe.

I knock one, two, three times.

I hold my breath, waiting for an answer. The door slowly opens to reveal a confused Spencer.

"Hey," I say, releasing the breath I'm holding. Spencer scratches his neck, thinking what to say, I assume.

"Hi," he mumbles, and it breaks my heart because his voice sounds so unsure.

Come on, Bootsy. Say what you come here to say.

"Spencer. I'm sorry. I owe you an explanation. I know I don't deserve to be listened to, but please, hear me out. I swear I'll leave you alone after," I assure him. Quietly, Spencer opens the door for me to enter.

Closing the door behind him, he turns to look at me.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks, and I want to cry.

"No! Don't say that, you didn't do anything wrong. I promise."

"So what happened that night?" Spencer asks, alluding to the night I ran away. "Was I too forward to try to kiss you?"

"No. It was all my fault. I swear. Can I tell you an embarrassing story?"

Frowning, he nods nonetheless, signaling to the couch for both of us to sit on.

After taking a deep breath, I recount the time I was 10, and with Emily and her friend Samantha, we went to a fair and saw a fortune teller.

As I go through the story of my failed relationships, I expect to see annoyance and disbelief on Spencer's face, but none of that happens. He listens intently, patiently waiting as I make up my own lines about how stupid it all was.

By the time I finish speaking, I avert his gaze, ready to hear his words of rejection. I'm prepared for him to kick me out of his house.

"You must know I'm a man of science, right?"

Here we go—the rejection.

I nod shyly and am surprised when one of his hands rests on my knee.

"Some scholars say that in order to demystify certain precepts, it is necessary to carry out systematic experiments to bring science under suggestion."

I frown and tip my head, trying to understand where this is going. A sheepish smile appears on Spencer's face.

"If you agree, I would like to refute what the fortune teller told you - even if it never was true and experience indicated it was - with evidence."

A slight blush creeps on my cheeks as he leans closer to me.

"And how can we do that?" I ask, eyes fluttering.

"Testing. Over and over again," Spencer whispers, his breath fanning my lips. "Are you interested? For science, of course."

My heart skips a bit, and the anticipation is killing me.

"Very," I manage to say, and I'm about to combust.

"Good," Spencer says before finally closing the gap between us with a passionate kiss.

His lips in mine must be the best science experiment I have done in my entire life. And maybe the first good decision that will change my bad luck in love.

Well, who would have thought? It looks like I can actually date a doctor after all. Spencer is confirming that fact for me right now, and I couldn't agree more.

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

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