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reiderwriter · 3 months

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💢 At Each Other's Throats 💢

Spencer Reid x female! Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Summary: A previous encounter means that you're not the biggest fan of Spencer Reid, and you go to some extreme lengths to prove that to him.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Dom! Spencer, but not exactly sub reader , degradation (use of whore, slut), semi-public foreplay, arguing as foreplay etc, oral sex (m receiving, f mentions, too), face fucking, rimming, nipple play, rough sex/ rough play, spanking, slapping, spitting, choking, messy sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, mentions of painful sex/ pain play etc. some possible CNC triggers/ phrasing.

A/N: I couldn't find a gift of Spencer being bitchy enough, so everyone, please enjoy Kyle Orfman from Life After Beth. This one was a labour of love, if love was actually hate. It's 2am. This is obviously not edited, and may never be.

Masterlist || Bingo Board

You knew from reputation alone that you would have a hard time working with Spencer Reid. Perhaps it was the slew of child prodigy articles that popped up alongside his name. Maybe it was even just your preconceived notion of what men with three PhDs, a badge, and a gun were like. Maybe it was the fact that he'd written to you after one of your first professional articles was published in The American Journal of Forensic Medicine and Pathology and told you a piece you'd worked on for 18 months was just plain wrong.

Either way, you laid eyes on him, and the hatred was cemented. But fuck was he hot.

He had no clue who you were as his boss introduced you to him, looking between the two of you as if expecting good things to happen. You should've warned him.

“Spencer, this is Y/N. She'll be assisting on a few cases from this month onwards.”

His eyes glazed over as he ran your name through whatever roller index of memories he had stored in there.

“Y/N is a lecturer at the University of Virginia. She's going to be lecturing at the FBI Academy from September onwards-”

“You! You wrote an article, I wrote to you about it, did you get my le-”

“Yes, I got your letter. I believe you called my writing ‘juvenile’ and my thinking ‘wishful,’ and that if I had any actual field experience, I'd slowly understand how many mistakes there were in my writing.”

Agent Hotchner took an almost imperceptible deep breath in, trying to hide the fact that this was all new information to him.

“Well, here I am, Doctor Reid.”

The man in front of you gaped for a moment, letting his mouth hang open, closing after a few seconds only to open again. Perhaps you'd disorganized that index of his. You hoped you'd set the goddamn thing alight.

“Shall we get started?”

To say that you'd gotten off to a bad start was an understatement. Your start had been reversed over by a dump truck with no tires. It had been cemented into the ground with no chance of going anywhere but down into the pits of hell.

Which is, coincidentally, where you found yourself every time you had to engage Spencer Reid in conversation.

Your first impression of his looks - his incredibly good looks - was that he was even better looking when he was pensive, and unhappy, and being bitchy. He was positively climbable when argumentative, and you liked nothing more than ruining his day, if just for the fact that he'd angrily loosen his tie and pop open his top buttons, exposing the pale white of his neck, and his sharp collar bones, perfectly ready for someone to suck and nip at.

He was still an ass, however, and you couldn't bring yourself to sink to those depths.

Four cases in, and you hadn't agreed on one thing. You'd caught a serial arsonist, who he had demanded was most likely an office worker, but you'd countered with college student, and you had prevailed there. 1-0.

Then, unfortunately, you'd lost back to back cases with unsubs in the trucking industry, unfamiliar with and uninterested in the life of the Jack Kerouac type.

You'd even the playing field at last with a child abduction. And although you knew you'd both been keeping score, you were so genuinely happy for this case to be over. A child was safe at home, and you'd worked so well under pressure (something he had assured you would change your view of your personal forensic psychology theories). 2-2.

Of course, those were just the big leagues. You'd fought many petty battles, too, as the war waged.

You'd accidentally stolen his place on the jet, enjoying the long bench seat for a good few naps. A few times, he'd settled in next to you, trying to nudge you out of the chair completely, but you'd held your ground.

“This is my seat. Usually. There are like 10 other places on this jet to sit. Why does it have to be here?” He'd grumbled into your ear as you gently elbowed him in the side, accidentally, of course.

“There aren't assigned seats. Maybe you have control issues, Doctor,” you cut back, trying to avoid speaking too loud to avoid the ire of the group.

While you'd enjoyed bickering with - and intellectually besting - Spencer greatly, it did seem that the sentiment wasn't shared by those around you.

“You can't be serious, right now,” Morgan complained from a seat opposite. “You're seriously fighting over a seat, right now?”

“It's my seat, Derek, come on, you know it's my seat.”

The look returned to Spencer almost had you ashamed of your petty actions.

“I swear they're just taking every advantage to get closer and closer together. Next thing you know, she'll be sitting in his lap,” Emily said from the corner of the plane, so obviously not talking to you that you were almost offended.

“Ah, young infatuation,” Rossi replied, still ignoring you.

Reid slinked just slightly away after that, and you weren't sure if you were more annoyed at the comments themselves or the loss of his annoying companionship.

You wanted him to bother you because it meant you'd succeeded in bothering him.

You'd had more than your fair share of rather explosive arguments as well.

“You can't seriously believe that Thomas Edison did more for the field of engineering than Nikola Tesla,” he'd shouted at you at a bar after a case had landed you in paperwork hell, filling out forms and working into the late hours.

A drink had been suggested, a celebration after solving four straight cases in a row, and you'd gladly taken the chance to unwind.

“Spencer, we're literally sat in a bar decorated with multiple light bulbs. Look, there's one. Another! Astounding. Thank you, Mr Edison.”

“And none of it would be possible without Alternating Current, so yes. Thank you, Mr Tesla.”

Your teammates had long since abandoned you to your petty bickering and fighting amongst yourselves. They'd stopped getting involved when Penelope had tried to mediate your discussion about Doctor Who, which had quickly devolved into New Who vs Old Who.

You didn't even care strongly either way, you just cared that he did. And however he felt, you were sure as hell ready to take up arms against him. Because it was so fuckimg hot watching him lose his shit.

You were a grown woman. You could admit that to yourself. You likely wouldn't admit it to anyone else, even if it was as clear as day that you found him unbearable attractive at times. You sure as hell knew that it wasn't a one-way street, from the way his eyes strolled across your body each morning.

You wondered if there was a section of his brain that was dedicated to memorising everything you'd said, done, and worn since he'd met you. You hoped there was.

On your fifth and final case with the BAU team, you felt unmatched in your annoyance.

You were still drawn with Spencer for case breakthroughs, and you felt the need to beat him once again just to nail the point home. He was just stubborn enough to see a 3-2 win as a landslide victory for himself, though you were absolutely going to frame it that way yourself if you managed to be the one to crack everything.

All sense of teamwork and camaraderie was off the table.

You had a murderer to catch.

Three women, beaten, assaulted, and tied up. He'd shorn their hair but bagged them up so they were unseen. Then he'd placed the bags on display. The unsub was caught between two extremes, hatred of his victims, and gentleness, protecting their dignity in death by covering them up.

Obviously, you and Spencer had to decide which side of the debate you were to land on.

“I think we're dealing with a killer without remorse here. It's easier to explain the covering, the dressing of the women as a ritual rather than guilt.”

He'd finally played his cards, and now it was your turn to passionately wipe them from the table.

“Remorse? He's cut all their hair off and beat half of them so badly we needed dental to identify them. And in case you've forgotten Spencer, half of them are prostitutes.”

“You're saying he can't feel remorse for killing prostitutes?”

“That is not what I'm saying. Don't twist my words."

“Well, of you'd said something that wasn't nonsensical, I'd have a better chance of understanding what the hell you're trying to say!’

With every line you'd stepped closer and closer to one another, like two boxers in a ring, sizing each other up before a fight.

You wanted to take his tie and strangle him with it. You wanted to pull him down for a kiss and force him to shut the hell up.

“Reid, Y/N, both of you take five,” Hotch called sternly from the other side of the room. Guiltily, you both broke away from one another, his hand brushing your side as you took a step back, almost as if he'd meant to grab you before Hotch stepped in.

Probably to remove you from the room.

“Take five?” You said, mustering all the disappointment you could as you silently pleaded to stick around.

“Go back to the motel and get some rest. If you're going to argue like this, I don't need you at the precinct, and I certainly don't need you on my team.”

You blanched at that, almost taken aback by the harsh words as you silently nodded and quietly walked towards the door, letting it shut behind you.

Spencer stayed behind, and though you couldn't hear his arguments, you knew he was attempting to reason with Hotch, as well. It evidently didn't work as he stormed out of the room behind you.

He looked half like a kicked puppy, half like an angry school kid who'd just been scolded by a teacher.

“Don't look at me like that, this is your fault,” you muttered as you walked away from the room.

“What? How is this my fault?”

“If you weren't so goddamn infuriating, we'd be able to get some actual work done.”

You marched off in the direction of the exit, but he caught your shoulder before you made it that far.

“You're blaming me? This is my job, Y/N, not yours. You get to go back to a cushy little office after this is done to teach the people that are going to end up doing the paperwork that consists of only 2% of our job.”

His finger jabbed at your shoulder as he said the words, and you had to resist the temptation to grab it.

“Doesn't feel too good to be criticized when you're just doing your job, huh, Spencer?”

His brows knitted together in a deepened scowl and he took a step forward.

But there were eyes on you, and whatever confrontation this was, you didn't want to act it out in front of an office full of cops.

You turned and walked away again, down a seemingly abandoned hall to what looked to be an empty storage cupboard, flinging the light on and waiting the three seconds it took him to catch up with you.

“What's your problem?” He said, joining you in the cramped closet.

“You! You're the problem! You're infuriating, and annoying, and most important, you're you!” You poked his chest back, harder than he had earlier, quietly reveling in the feel of his body under your fingertip.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Would you like me to be someone different? Someone who worships the ground you walk on?” He said, discovering sarcasm for the first time since you'd been introduced.

“Sure, Spencer, if you can take tour head out of your own ass long enough to worship someone else, then be my guest.”

With a single push he crowded you against the wall, a hand above your head locking you into position as his other hand held your hip, his own hips joining you at the wall as you sucked in a breath.

“You're begging to hear praise, right now, Y/N. Do you even hear yourself?” He asked, whispering the words directly into your ear.

“W-Well, you have me pressed up against the wall like some fucking caveman that needs to breed or die.” You spent half the time you were talking trying to compensate for the stutter, trying not to look weak, that you totally missed the words that came from your own mouth.

“You think I want to have sex with you?” He asked, chuckling awkwardly, even as his hand on your hip began rubbing circles, his head hanging lower, just inches away from your mouths meeting.

“I think you'd love nothing more,” you said, finally lifting your hands to his hair and tucking a lock behind his ears. “Such a shame I won't be crawling into your bed.”

“Is that a challenge?” He asked, and you were taken aback for a few seconds.

“You want me so fucking bad, you're trying to convince yoursel-”

With a swoop, he cut you off, his lips meeting yours. You gasped and allowed his tongue to enter your mouth, but you came to your senses quickly. You kissed back with all the anger of the last month and all the attraction that had built up since you'd joined the team. Your tongue fought his, your hands tangled in his hair as his pulled them out, pinning them against a wall. But you slipped free and grabbed him again, grabbing the tie you'd wanted to choke him with earlier and not letting go.

His lips were soft, and his body felt hot pressed against you, and you hated how good he was at all of this, how your body responded to his, how each time you pulled away it was with a small whimper as you begged for more.

“I knew you wanted me,” he said, between kisses, grabbing your face and tilting it up as he returned his tongue to yours.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you kissed me first.” His hands trailed up your hips, untucking your shirt as he pushed his hand under, his cold fingers sending a trail of goosebumps along your skin as you shuddered.

“I kissed you because you begged me to,” he said, his fingers caressing the bottom of your chest as he tried to press your bra up further.

You were about to argue back when his lips met yours again, and you were lost in the haze of arousal, leg lifting to his hip to better allow him space to settle against you.

You grew wilder in your passion, neither of you giving in even for one second as you writhed against each other, begging for satisfaction while denying that you'd ever wanted each other in the first place. Just as it became unbearable, your hands slipping to his belt, ready to pull his cock free and take it, the door opened again.

“Reid, Y/N,” Morgan said from the doorway as you hastily jumped away from each other.

You pulled your shirt down quickly, and Spencer stepped behind you, covering up the tent in his pants as you stared guiltily up at Derek Morgan.

“Hotch sent me after you to give you the keys to the SUV,” he grumbled, making no comment on anything that happened.

“We were just, um, we were just-” your brain fought for an excuse, but you'd left your brain behind somewhere between joining the BAU and foreplay with Spencer in a closet, so words escaped you.

“You were just making out in a closet. It's okay, we all know,” Derek said, turning to leave.

You jumped up, indignant now he'd brushed you off, and followed him out of the closet, an equally shocked Spencer trailing behind you.

“What do you mean you all know? All know what?” You said, stomping back into the office.

“That you two are into each other. It's why Hotch sent you away earlier. He didn't want to see the two of you going at it,” he said, pressing the car keys into your hands.

“We are not into each other,” Spencer shouted back at Morgan as he stalked off, and you glared at him to shut his mouth. There was a crowd forming, and you still didn't need that attention. Not when your hair was matted from seven minutes in hell with Spencer or when his hand had, once again, settled on your hip, pulling you closer into him.

“Let's go,” you huffed, and finally left the building with Spencer right behind you.

You didn't talk for the rest of the drive home, even as your brain flooded itself with images of him taking you in the back of the car, your lips around his dick as he drove, him pulling over to bend you over the hood.

You went straight to your separate rooms when you got back to the motel, though you swore that the walls were thin enough that he surely heard you pleasure yourself, fingers sinking into yourself. You weren't sure if he, too, had his hand wrapped around his cock, or if your brain was just now imagining whatever it liked to spur you on.

Imagined or real, his moans were delicious, a maddening mix of frustration, exasperation and desperation, whimpers and groans, and small growls until you yourself were cumming, and letting yourself sleep.

You avoided talking, all talking, until the end of the case, even as your head replayed his infuriating words, his moans and the rustling sound of his fingers pressing your shirt up. You refused to talk to him to give his coworkers the validation of arguing with him once more. You weren't into each other.

You simply wanted to fuck him. You didn't like him as a person otherwise.

In avoiding him, though, the small taste of release you'd sampled in the closet had your softer parts deliriously wanting more. As much as you hated Spencer, you needed him so bad.

You'd given him the cold shoulder but he'd returned it just as quickly, and you were more annoyed not talking to him than you weren't.

Your last case wrapped up, and you decided it was time to give him what he so obviously wanted. A conversation.

You sat yourself right back down in his seat as you got on the jet and laid down, pulling his blanket over yourself as you took up the entire space.

The others shook their heads at you as they walked on, Spencer taking up the rear. His eyes met yours, and he scowled, and you couldn't help but wonder if he'd look like that fucking you, so stern and angry.

You sighed and pushed onto your side as he stood over you.

“That's my seat.”

You smiled in success as you looked over your shoulder.

“I'm tired, I'm going to sleep.”

“But that is my seat-”

“Spencer, you've sat on every seat on this damn plane before, that wasn't your seat until last month, now sit down, shut up and let me rest,” JJ exploded and you suddenly felt bad for drawing him into your argument. Or you did until you sat up a bit, and he sat himself right down where your head had been.

“Spencer!”

“I give up…” JJ groaned from the table seats, pulling headphones over her head and shutting her eyes, and the others made to ignore you similarly.

Not one to be beaten, you pushed the book in his hands off his lap and laid your head down again, now cushioned by his legs.

“What-” his voice squeaked as you shut your eyes, too, and made yourself comfortable. He didn't push you off, or, heaven forbid, start talking to you again. Shockingly, he adjusted to the position quickly and resigned himself to pillow duty for the six hour flight.

You, too, shocked yourself by how fast you fell asleep. You woke up with his hands in your hair, stroking your head as he read, book in one hand, you in the other. His hands felt wonderful, raking through your long locks, brushing each errant hair off your face.

“Spencer?” You said, voice still thick with sleep.

His hand shot away, and you almost regretted not pretending to sleep for longer, sure that he'd have gone on if you hadn't said anything.

You straightened and cleared your own throat as you stretched, sitting quietly as you listened to the flight landing announcement.

“Congrats, Y/N, you've successfully finished your time with the BAU,” Rossi said from his seat opposite you, strapping in for the landing.

“And you haven't been shot, kidnapped, or slapped. That's gotta be a first, right?” Emily joked from the corner.

You smiled quietly as you strapped yourself down, scooting even closer to Spencer now to get your belt fastened.

Still, you couldn't resist the urge to mumble a retort.

“I'm sure Spencer thought about it a few times,” you sighed, a breath of resignation releasing from your lips dramatically.

The others chuckled, but Spencer sat silently next to you until the jet landed.

He stayed quiet as he began to pack his things, but it became clear quickly that he was dragging everything out. As the plane emptied, you shot him a curious look, not daring to speak until you were the last two on the plane.

“You're being slow today.”

“I've never thought about shooting you or kidnapping you,” he said, voice low and quiet, even though you were alone.

“It was a joke, Spencer,” you started, so sick of him taking g everything so seriously. You made to walk past him, but as you did, you felt his hand on your waist pulling you back as another hand came hard and fast at your ass.

“I wasn't finished speaking,” he said as his hand ran over your butt, soothing the pain he'd just delivered. “I have thought about slapping you, though.”

With that he grabbed his bag and stalked off the jet, not bothering to cast another look behind him.

Two could play at that game.

In about the most childish was you could muster, you ran ahead of him, staying three paces directly in front of him as he tried to overtake you. You moved when he moved. You sped up when he sped up. You even stopped a few times, so he'd run into you.

“Y/N, cut it out.”

“Make me,” you said, throwing a withering look over your shoulder.

He didn't wither.

Instead, he grabbed your arm and marched you all the way through the FBI building, down to the parking lot, and into your car. As soon as he had you safely in the driver's seat, he closed the door, pulling off your visitors' pass.

“I'll return this for you, no need for you to dally.”

“Fuck you,” you spat out the window as you started the ignition.

“It's been a pleasure,” he said with a grimace.

“No, it hasn't,” you said back, wondering how long you'd spend in jail of you just mowed him down then and there.

“You’re right. It hasn't,” he said, leaning down and into the window so you were now eye to eye.

“Really? It seems like you got a lot of pleasure out of spanking me earlier. You were certainly experiencing a lot of pleasure when you pushed me up against a wall last week. If it wasn't pleasure, there was definitely something long-”

“Long?” He smirked.

“And hard in your pants.”

He leaned in through the window, his breath fanning against your cheeks as he whispered into your ear.

“That was my gun.”

“And I certainly won't be helping you fire a load,” you said, starting the ignition and pushing him back from the window as you drove away from the FBI and away from Spencer Reid.

It infuriated him that you'd gotten the last word. You'd spent a month with him and hadn't even given him a chance to show off his good qualities, and then you'd left without giving him a chance to prove himself.

And, in doing so, you'd told a blatant lie.

There had been two people in that closet, two people with tongues desperate for contact, eager for battle. You'd been moaning just as much as he had when his hands found your nipples.

But you'd gotten to drive away without listening to his retort, and it was killing him.

He sat and seethed at his desk for a while, waiting for the sense of relief that you were gone to wash over him. This had been what he wanted for weeks. Why was he now so discontent? Why did everything feel wrong?

Abandoning paperwork he knew wouldn't be needed until at least next week, Spencer found your address in the team files, wrote it down, and left his desk.

When you got home, there was nothing waiting for you.

It was annoying. You'd spent the last month constantly on the go, always with more work, more cases, more paperwork. You'd killed any apparent gaps with Spencer.

You could still feel his hands on your ass. You hated to admit it, but in your short acquaintance with Doctor Asshat, you'd grown fond of having him around as eye candy. When he wasn't being annoying (talking, breathing, or generally just being), you could quite happily imagine his head buried between your legs, his tongue lapping up every drop of cum you had to offer.

There were definitely better things he could be doing with his mouth, in any case.

Your body felt hot, itchy, and neglected as you got home, running a shower immediately and stepping in.

The water was hot, and the room steamed up faster than you expected. You washed away the fatigue, and you washed away the dirt of a month of cheap motels..

Just as you were about to wash away the memories of Spencer Reid and his stupidly skilful tongue, the doorbell rang.

It wasn't unusual for you to get visitors at 10 pm, but usually they announced themselves.

You stayed put in the shower. It was probably a package you'd ordered, and it could honestly wait.

The ringing, though, didn't stop. Whoever was at your door was insistent. First, the door rang to the rhythm of jingle bells. Then, they moved on to Fur Elise. When they got to Flight of the Bumblebees Levels of bullshit, you couldn't stand it anymore.

You wrapped a towel around you and pulled the door open wide.

“Sp- mm?” You said, shocked to see him there, but completely floored by his appearance, and more importantly the two hands he'd planted on your cheeks as he pulled you in for a hot, hard, and fast kiss.

You pushed him off with a hard slap to his face, and stalked further into your apartment, knowing he'd follow closely behind.

You heard the door slam shut as he made to grab you again, but you stayed just out of reach.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I came because neither of us will move on without this.”

“Oh, you need me so much you won't be able to move on if you don't fuck me?” You scoffed, expecting a sarcastic answer to a sarcastic question.

“Yes,” he said, and your shock at his earnestness gave him the moment he needed to grab at you again.

This time, though, the tiny towel that had been holding your dignity in place dropped to the floor as Spencer Reid pinned you against the wall.

“Already fucking bare and wet for me, how well-behaved.”

“Go fuck yourself!” you said, even as his hands cupped your breasts, grabbing and pulling both of your nipples, making you moan.

“See, your mouth is being a bitch, but your body is being a whore.”

“Just fuck me won't you? No need to run your mouth.”

“I think we're finally in agreement on something,” he said, pushing you to your knees.

“What? Sp-”

In one quick swoop he released his cock from his pants and wrapped a hand around all of your hair as he slid it down your waiting throat.

As much as you protested, your mouth was wide open, and your hands wrapped around him just as eagerly.

Holding your head still, Spencer began to talk as he fucked your throat.

“There we go. That's exactly how I've needed you for the last month.”

You glared at him as you sank your nails into his thighs, gagging on his cock as he picked up his pace.

With two taps on his leg, you requested a moment, and he quickly pulled his dick out of your mouth.

You coughed quickly, then spat out all of your accumulated drool before looking up at him.

Part of you wanted to force him down next to you, to make him taste your cunt the way you'd thought about earlier. The other part, the larger part, was excited about him using you.

He grabbed his dick and slapped your face with it, returning your earlier hit. He was waiting for you to open up again so he could cum down your throat and leave.

“Open,” he demanded.

You didn't comply, but you stuck out your tongue, lapping at his tip slowly as you sat on your hands. He held his breath as you kissed the underside of his shaft, making his way to his balls. You reached them and finally sucked them into your mouth, making sure to look up and make eye contact with him as you toyed with his private place.

He didn't argue or complain. Instead he fisted a hand into your hair and dragged you to your bedroom.

Divesting himself of his pants and shirt, he sat down and, still on all fours, pushed your face back into his crotch. Perched on the edge of your bed, he held his cock up and served himself to you.

“Well? Get back to it, Y/N.”

Your tongue found his cock first as his hands massaged his balls, playing with them gently as you licked all the way to his tip then buried yourself between his asscheeks. You licked at the skin between his ass and balls, you tasted every inch of him, and you grew angry that he still hadn't done this for you.

Against his wished, you rose and spat on his cock, before squeezing it hard.

“Spencer, are you going to fuck me or are you just going to ruin my makeup?”

“You look prettier with spit coating your face than you've looked with any lipstick,” he said as you pushed him down onto the bed and grabbed his cock.

Straddling his waist, you were surprised he.let you sink down onto his cock without so much as another word. You felt him fill you up, one inch, then another until you sat fully sheathed on top of him.

And then he flipped you over so he was back in control.

“Son of a bitch,” you muttered as he pulled out and thrust back in.

“You wanted me to fuck you, I'm fucking you.”

You wanted to argue but all you could do was moan yes as he set a furious pace, thumb and forefinger pinching your clit as you bucked into him wildly.

You couldn't stand too much of this, knowing that you wanted to at least outlast him. You wanted to tell him how pathetic he was for cumming first, you wanted to gloat that he'd wanted you more, that he couldn't resist breeding your hot wet cunt. You knew any more of this, though, and you would instead be on the receiving end of those same taunts.

Pushing against his chest, you used the last of your strength to flip him over again. He struggled, though, stronger than you were expecting, and you rolled together like that for a few moments.

You almost went crashing to the floor as he fought for control, but he pushed a foot off the bed and held you up with his lower body strength. The new position though forced his cock deeper, to just the right angle, and when he thrust into you again, you did something you'd never done before during sex.

You screamed your pleasure.

Your orgasm ripped through you, as painful as it was pleasurable, and you grabbed Spencer Reid by the neck and forced his tongue to meet yours.

He couldn't complain, too busy moaning about your hot, wet, and now tighter cunt to worry about whether he should be kissing you.

He pulled back and picked his pace right back up, but this time, you resisted less. Hooking a hand under your legs, he pressed your legs up, pushing his stomach and chest down just above your own as he moved slower but harder.

You wondered if this was what other wen talked about when they said they wanted someone to beat their pussy up, to use them until they couldn't stand. You didn't think you could even think about walking again for the next month as he spread your knees apart and pinned them to the bed, unloading his cum as deep inside you as anything had ever been.

You didn't even know your body bent that way.

Panting, he collapsed on top of you and buried his head in your shoulder, mumbling and muttering to himself as he came down from his ecstasy.

He didn't pull out. He barely even softened as he kissed across the expanse of your throat, thrusting shallowly with each nip, until your body couldn't take anymore.

He picked a spot and sucked, and licked and bit and soothed as he ended one round, and began another.

“Spencer-” you said, gasping as he sat up, his cock once again standing at attention, filling you still.

“No. Stop. Don't talk, we're not good when we talk.”

You nodded and pulled him back for another kiss, wrapping a hand around his throat and pressing hard as he moaned and groaned into you.

Still wet and slippery and sensitive from your first attempt, neither of you lasted long, falling to the bed when it was all over with a grunt of overexertion.

“That was…” you said, stopping there, for once totally speechless.

“That was good?” He supplied, but just good wasn't enough.

“Yes,” you agreed, though, not willing to let your cunt rule your mind when around him.

Anymore, at least.

“We should… we should probably never speak again,” you said, even as your hand reached out for his, fingers tangling.

“Of course. I'll leave, and we won't ever speak again,” he said, stroking your hand with his thumb, bringing your clasped hands to his mouth and pressing a kiss to your hand.

“You haven't left yet.”

“I haven't.”

“I have nowhere to be tomorrow,” you said. “You don't…”

“I won't leave yet. We might as well enjoy this,” he said, propping himself up on his elbows as he looked over your naked body.

“We should definitely just get this out of our systems now. What's the harm in that?”

“I agree. If we're committing to a one time thing, we might as well go all in.”

“Exactly,” you said.

“Exactly,” he parrotted.

Exactly a year later, the members of the BAU received invitations in the post to your wedding. Because the both of you had convinced yourself that that one time had never ended and never had need to.

#cmkinkbingo2024 #spencer reid #criminal minds #reiderreplies #spencer reid x reader #reiderslibrary #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert

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twstowo · 4 months

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Their Magicam Accounts[Twst]

♡︎How I think their Magicam Accounts would look and what they do in them.

♡︎This was been catching dust in my drafts for months now. Crazy

♡︎Includes: NRC, RSA and Rollo

⋆⋅☆Riddle: Owns two accounts on Magicam. The first one is only used to like or comment on posts from friends, Carter set up this account against Riddle’s will. He once accidentally posted a picture of the two of you and had a heart attack trying to delete it. The second account is a secret one where he only posts hedgehog pictures.

⋆⋅☆Trey: Has one account where most of his posts showcase his cakes, including pictures from unbirthday parties and moments of you cooking with him. His profile picture is him with that dog filter, you can’t change my mind.

⋆⋅☆Carter: Literally Owns Magicam, posting pictures every time he does something or is with someone. #Thevoicesarewinning. Comments on every post and totally knows that Riddle owns the hedgehog account. He also has a side account for stalking people. Changes his profile picture daily.

⋆⋅☆Ace: Initially only posted embarrassing pictures of people and would only take them down if they paid him. Got suspended quickly from Magicam. The second account is more relaxed, where he shares random content whenever he feels like it. He’s also the type to edit group pictures to make everyone look bad except himself, just to annoy everyone.

⋆⋅☆Deuce: Was the one who reported Ace’s first account since most pictures were of him. Has Shaky pictures, the best picture he has is one of him, Ace, and you together. Probably uses social media mostly for chatting with friends. Also, he, Ace, and you have one of those quirky couple profile pics.

⋆⋅☆Leona: Owns an account with no posts, profile picture, comments, or followers. Rarely uses Magicam, but he occasionally checks your posts.

⋆⋅☆Ruggie: Uses Magicam for selling stuff. Created a group for selling second-hand items and pins all his stuff to ensure faster sales than everyone else.

⋆⋅☆Jack: Gym pictures? Nah, I feel he’d be too shy for that. Probably has one image that he uses everywhere else just to identify himself.

⋆⋅☆Azul: Opened an account to promote Mostro Lounge, daily posts feature new dishes, prices, menus, and sales. He also has a personal account but doesn’t post (doesn’t think he looks nice in pictures).

⋆⋅☆Jade: Mushroom account, has so many followers who share his fascination. Their conversations are all about their mushroom hikes and can last for hours. Makes really aesthetically pleasing posts filled with detailed information about different types of mushrooms.

⋆⋅☆Floyd: For legal reasons I won’t say why, but his account got suspended after one week of its creation.

⋆⋅☆Kalim: Sends party invitations through Magicam, Jamil had to create a group to prevent Kalim from sending individual invitations constantly. Enjoys capturing pictures of the sky. Once posted a picture of Jamil, after it was deleted, he didn't post anything for a whole month, I wonder what happened.

⋆⋅☆Jamil: Similar to Leona, but he often checks Trey’s account for his cake posts. When he saw a picture of you and Trey together, he invited you over to cook with him but didn’t have the courage to ask for a picture of the two of you.

⋆⋅☆Vil: Posts frequently, sharing about himself and his daily routine, always looking impeccable. Regularly receives barking comments, he spends hours deleting all of them.

⋆⋅☆Rook: We all know he has a fan account for Neige. Likes posts of all the celebrities he adores. Writes extremely lengthy comments whenever he finds someone beautiful. He's been blocked so many times he's lost count.

⋆⋅☆Epel: Initially tried taking cute pictures following Vil’s advice but got annoyed as he looked too feminine. Instead, he started promoting stuff from his farm back home.

⋆⋅☆Idia: Uses an account with a weird name to hide his identity, posts about games and occasional activities. Engages in lengthy debates with anyone who disagrees with his new hyperfixation. Has a different notification ring for your posts.

⋆⋅☆Ortho: Shares many pictures of you and him and others doing silly things, sometimes posts gossips and causes huge scandals with them, to the point he decided to create an account with only gossip info. (Azul is literally taking notes.)

⋆⋅☆Malleus: This man owns a Nokia 3310.

⋆⋅☆Lilia: Creates posts about the Doramas he watches, managing a fan page to discuss them with others. Shares pictures of Silver, Sebek, and Malleus, although the latter two get embarrassed, leading Lilia to take down their pictures.

⋆⋅☆Silver: Posts images of nature and cute animals. There's only one picture of him – you took it while he was sleeping and posted it. He didn't have the heart to delete it, knowing it was you.

⋆⋅☆Sebek: Shaky hands #2. Takes pictures of his paintings of Malleus; if you scroll long enough, you might see an accidentally posted painting of you.

⋆⋅☆Che’nya: Shares pictures of people's scared faces, taken while invisible when the flash goes off.

⋆⋅☆Neige: Lost track of his posts; like Vil, he has many followers. Captures moments with the dwarfs and shares funny stories about his day in every picture.

⋆⋅☆Rollo: Has one account filled with pictures of Fleur City. His profile picture used to be a croissant, but he removed it since it looked dumb. He was blocked every magic user, except for you. Yet.

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solaireverie · 5 months

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op81 | best he'll ever write

summary: [ author!oscar piastri x f!driver!reader — social media au ] being the partner and muse of a celebrated author means that fans start connecting the dots sooner rather than later

faceclaim: gracie abrams

author’s note: i'm secretly a ya romcom book girlie and i feel like that shows SO MUCH in this fic 🙈 delusional for life!

[ masterlist / guidelines / lola's masterlist / series masterlist ]

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, liakblock and 534,230 others

geotag: melbourne, australia

yourusername short break down under 🐨

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user great race at the australian gp y/n!

↪ user first points of the season let's goooo

↪ yourusername and hopefully many more to come 🙌

logansargeant STRAYAAA 🦘🇦🇺🦘🇦🇺

↪ yourusername VEGEMITE ON TOAST 🤤

↪ user sometimes i forget that logan and y/n are both gen z 😂

user the puppy is so adorable 🥺

↪ user i wonder whose it is 👀 y/n's said that her schedule doesn't allow for pets

oscarpiastri not my birthday cake...

↪ yourusername sorry not sorry 😉

↪ user who the hell is oscar piastri and why is y/n replying to his comment 😭

↪ user don't you talk about my favourite best-selling author like that 🤺

oscarpiastri has added to their story

seen by yourusername, logansargeant, jennyhan and 124,203 others

you replied to oscarpiastri's story

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 3,393,210 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername can't believe that little kid is now a 3-time nyt best-selling author 🥹 so proud of you oscarpiastri 💗 i haven't been able to put eighty-one seconds down 📖 available in bookstores near you!

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user i love how y/n always supports and promotes oscar's books 🥺

↪ user they're so adorable together my heart can't take it

oscarpiastri Thanks for the encouragement. Couldn't have done it without you 👍

↪ yourusername damn right you couldn't have 😤

user okay but who took the photo of y/n 👀

↪ user i'm betting it was oscar 😜

↪ user hello what 😳😳😳

↪ user oh my sweet summer child...

liked by yourusername, hachetteaus, johngreenwritesbooks and 293,192 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri Thank you to everyone who's been on this journey with me. Eighty-One Seconds is finally yours and we can't be more happy to share it with you. As many of you have guessed, it is my homage to Y/N and all the time we have spent together. My wife, my love, my heart. I'm grateful that you're in my life. Forgive me for re-using my words, but here's to eighty-one more years together.

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user hold on a damn second 🤚 his WIFE??? when was this a thing 🧐

↪ yourusername 🤭

↪ user give us answers please 🙏 i haven't had peace since oscar posted this

yourusername i love you too, oscar jack piastri 🤍

↪ user oh he literally named his mc after himself 😭

↪ user GOODBYE??? JACK AS IN HIS MIDDLE NAME??? oh my god they really weren't subtle

williamsracing signed copy when 😏

↪ hachetteaus already on its way 🫡

user honestly i'm surprised they managed to hide their relationship for this long 💀

↪ user oh they did NOT we were just blind

↪ logansargeant I didn't find out until I got the wedding invitation in the mail 🤝

↪ landonorris i think that's just cause you're oblivious mate 😂

↪ logansargeant what???

↪ landonorris they literally make out all the time in williams hospitality

↪ yourusername lando... 😒

user if your man isn't writing a book professing his love for you, what's he doing with his life?

↪ user oscar's set the standard 😌

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @scenesofobx @vellicora @boiohboii @julesbabey @flannelforthetoads @misartymis @c-losur3

#solwriting #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #f1 social media au #f1 imagine #f1 smau #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fanfic

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bwabys-scenarios · 5 months

Note

Hello dear! How are you? Could you please do Perv! Chrollo if it's not too much trouble? I haven't seen much Perv Chrollo content out there, and I'd love to see that in your writing! You can ignore it if you want, have a nice day ♡ (Sorry if it seemed confusing, English is not my first language ☠️)

His pretty girl

Perv!Chrollo x Fem!Reader

warnings: perv behavior, panting stealing, reader is mentioned to be chubby, excessive gift giving, somno, dubcon, reader is innocent and naive, breeding kink, pregnancy, bit of Yandere chrollo if you squint, Chrollo calls you princess/angel/goddess, minor manga spoilers about Shalnark

A/N: not the biggest chrollo fan but him being head over heels in love and just a big softy with his lover does do something for me.

NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @pannacottababy @aliceattheart @atransmuter

‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️

Unlike most pervs, Chrollo is much sneakier with his perversion. You won’t catch him sniffing your panties or jacking off to pictures of your cute face… but you will find pairs of your panties covered in his cum in your dresser, and lots of pictures of you saved on his phone if you go looking.

Chrollo absolutely adores you, he enjoys seeing you blush and stutter when you find a particularly nasty love letter stuffed into your mailbox, or those pair of missing lacy panties folded neatly on your bed, with strange stains on them.

He first fell for you when Shalnark introduced him to you. You met Shal through the Hunter exam years ago, though you didn’t pass. Regardless, the two of you stayed good friends, with Shal making sure you stayed safe while under his care.

But Shalnark was quick to back off the second Chrollo showed interest in you. You were just too cute, with your chubby frame and pretty face. Chrollo had never really put much thought into his sexual preferences, but seeing your plump ass and fat tits was enough to awaken something… sinful in him.

After that first meeting, you started receiving little gifts from him. At first, they were just pretty trinkets that Chrollo found on his missions, but as his obsession and adoration for you grew, those little trinkets because expensive dresses and luxurious jewelry.

At first you thought it was just him being generous with you, considering your living situation wasn’t the best. You were very appreciative, your cheeks heating up and your voice small when he smiled sweetly after you thanked him.

But over time, strange things started happening that you just couldn’t explain!

Your windows would be open in the morning when you were sure you closed them last night… and what was that sticky stuff on your face?

Chrollo had gotten into the habit of breaking in to watch you sleep. In the beginning, it was because he felt such intense love and care for you that he just couldn’t bear the thought of you getting harmed in your most vulnerable state!

He’d sit at the edge of your bed, reading a book while gently stroking your cheek. It was cute, you seemed so content and happy in your sleep when he was with you. It made his heart soar thinking that maybe, just maybe he had something to do with it.

But soon those soft and innocent intentions shifted when he noticed how… revealing your pajamas were sometimes. Those flimsy little shorts and the fact he could see your nipples through your thin white tanktop had his cock straining against his pants.

You always looked so soft and peaceful, something he wanted to protect and cherish. You were the only person linking him to the normal world, where your biggest problems were paying rent on time and figuring out what to eat for dinner, while his were trying to keep his friends from dying and which heist he should plan next.

You lived in a completely different world than him, and that was some of the appeal. Chrollo had never lived a normal life, but with you, he could have some shred of normalcy. He could marry you, make you his sweet little wife and live out the rest of his days keeping you happy and safe.

But… deep down Chrollo knew this was next to impossible. He was a wanted criminal, with more enemies than he could care to remember.

He still liked to imagine it, though. You, sitting in a rocking chair your swollen belly, carrying his child. He’d come home from a heist, carry you upstairs and ravish you, making sure to be extra careful with your delicate body.

Chrollo stroked his cock to this thought, his tip gently pressed against your lips as you slept. He’d done this exact things countless times… he hadn’t been expecting you to wake up right as he buckled his pants after cumming on your lips.

“… Chrollo?”

You rubbed your sleepy eyes, then wiped at your mouth, grimacing. Did you drool in your sleep? It was too dark to make out what was on your hand… but there was just enough light to see your friend Chrollo standing there, peering down at you with a slightly surprised expression.

He quickly took on his usual calm, charming facade. “Hello, (Name). Shal asked me to come watch over you. Apparently there’s been a few break ins in town that got both him and I worried for you.”

It was all lies, but something he loved about (Name) was her naïveté. You smiled sweetly, your cheeks heating up. “Really? You came to make sure I was okay?”

Chrollo nodded, setting his book on your nightstand before sitting at the edge of your bed. “Of course… I don’t think you understand just how much you mean to me, (Name).”

You didn’t have time to react, he was already leaning closer to you. His eyes were captivating in the moonlight, reflecting the light and shining like jewels.

“You’re divine, (Name), like an angel sent from Heaven just for me.”

He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lip. “I want you, more than anything.”

Hearing this from a handsome man like Chrollo felt unreal. He wanted you of all people? It was hard to believe.

As if sensing your hesitancy, Chrollo tilted up your chin. “Do you want me to show you?”

Before you could answer, his lips met yours. He had been holding back for so long, he needed this, he needed you. You were always so sweet to him, making sure he was eating well and even coming to visit him when you could. How could he ever ask for anything more than you?

It wasn’t long before his tongue entered your mouth and his hands slipped under your shirt to grab at your perky, plump tits. You whines softly into his mouth as his thumbs ran over your sensitive nipples.

“Like that, princess?”

He gave them a soft pinch, biting down on your lip as he moved one hand to your shorts. He didn’t both with taking them off, he ripped them and pinned you down, one hand pinning your wrists and the other unbuckling his pants.

“My darling…”

His eyes settled on your pretty cunt, wet and glistening in the moonlight. Chrollo had a few one nights stands in the past, but he never felt like this before. Your pussy, all wet and ready for him was enough to have him groaning into your neck as his cock sunk into your warm heat.

He grabbed onto your hips, his fingers sinking into the soft fat. You were so cute, tears pooling down your cheeks as you blubbered incoherently, too fucked out to speak. He leaned forward and kissed those soft lips of yours, so soft and gentle with his little angel.

“Shh, just take me okay? Fuck, you’re divine, my angel, my goddess…”

With one leg over his shoulder as he pressed your bodies together, Chrollo fucked into you. He tried his best to restrain himself, but god you looked way too pretty when you came around his cock for the third time.

You clung to him for comfort and some sort of stability as he mercilessly pounded your sensitive cunt. “Pretty, god you’re just gorgeous, my sweet girl…”

By the end of the night, you were too exhausted to even speak, your pussy full of his seed. He held you now, cooing softly as he peppered kisses along your cheeks and jaw. “Did so well, such a good girl…”

From then on Chrollo’s obsession with you would only deepen. He’d marked you up, leaving love bites all over your neck and chest. You were his, and he’d make sure everyone knew that.

It wasn’t long before he had moved you away, somewhere you could be together and also under the radar. After Shalnark’s death, he became a bit paranoid that Hisoka would come after you next.

So now there you were, belly swollen with his child as he held you in his lap, his palm resting on your baby bump.

Chrollo had you, and although it wasn’t quite the life he had expected, he was still happy with it. You were here with him, carrying his baby and unable to get a way, even if you wanted to.

And that was enough for him.

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star2fishmeg · 2 months

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ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ǫᴜɪᴇᴛ?

[1.1k] Pairing | Quinn Hughes x afab!reader Summary| what's a better way to fall asleep than hot sex. literally. Warnings | 18+ smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), making out, fingering, swearing, pet names (princess), tiny bit of degradation kink (slut), praise kink, I think that's all? Authors Note | need quinn in my neck <3333 I was shit tired when most of this was written but I am not sorry for thirsty as fuck quinner

If she weren’t already hot as it was, Quinn’s body wrapped around her just added a cherry on top. For a guy who almost fought Jack over having the big fan in his room (his argument being that Jack had it last summer when they all stayed at the lake house), Quinn didn’t seem to mind the heat when he pressed his chest into her back, one arm securely wrapped around her waist, hand on her breast while his other fell numb tucked under her head.

Y/n’s eyelids struggled, yet not even the fan's hum could lull her to sleep while the bedroom sat at a horrible twenty-one degrees, skin sticky and her boyfriend’s breath flushing over her neck. At least he hadn’t started snoring, yet. Her mind awake, she fidgeted, hoping a new position would find a cool patch but instead, she pushed her ass back into Quinn, cock already wide awake and now poking at her prominently. Her breath hitched, fast asleep and horny, Captain Quinn’s always full of surprises.

“Mmm,” he softly moaned into her shoulder, voice husky and muffled, “stop moving s’much.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” His hand palmed her tit, grinding his cock into her ass and placing lazy, wet kisses on her neck. Heat pooled in her stomach, eyes fluttering closed as he nipped at her neck.

“S’kay, was already awake. Thought I woke you.” he slid his hand off her chest and under her shirt, flat palm soothing over her stomach, teasing the waistband of her panties.

“Just can’t sleep.” she twisted her body around slightly, enough so she could see his face retract from her neck and elbow prop himself up above her, noses ghosting. Even in the dark his eyes still bored into hers like she were the only woman on the planet, gaze flickering between her eyes and lips in some sort of carnal dilemma.

“I can think of something that would help.” his voice just above a whisper, rumbling through his chest but still nothing but soft-spoken and dripping with honey, bucking his hips sharply into her.

“Your family are literally asleep, I’m not having an awkward breakfast.”

“What? You can’t sleep and I’m horny, I think it’s a great idea,” his lips connected with hers, tongue taking no hesitation to enter her mouth and lap hers, moving with a sensual rhythm and drawing low moans from her throat, “Think you can be quiet, princess?”

“Yes,” she breathed, “m’gonna be quiet.”

Quinn kissed her again, bruisingly, with gluttony for her taste. Remnants of peppermint toothpaste invaded his tastebuds as their saliva gathered at the corners of their mouths. The way he made out with her could’ve been enough foreplay in itself with the way his groans lured arousal out of her, drenching her panties and forcing her thighs to clamp for the slightest dose of friction. He pulled her legs apart, moving one to hook around his hip so his fingers could trace feathery circles over her clit, teasing and igniting the sparks to surge through her body.

“S’fucking wet,” he smirked, “and I’ve barely touched you. What a little slut you are.” He dove back in, rougher until they pulled away for air.

“Slut for you, your little slut,” y/n’s breathing quickened, becoming shuddered when his finger pulled her panties to the side, sliding through her dewing folds and rubbing circles on her bundle. Quinn’s lips tugged into a smile, his shorts tight and while exhilarating pleasure erupted in watching her squirm and mewl, the pulsing in his cock kicked off some sort of cruel lust that devoured him. “Need you inside, please.”

“Because you asked so nicely,” his middle finger plunged in, her lips parting as if to make a noise. He loved feeling her squeeze around him, beg him for more and when she did he slipped his ring finger in, mesmerised with the stained mewls she made in an attempt to stay quiet. Quinn’s fingers curled inside her, his chest swelling at her head tilting back and her bucking to meet his pace. “Such a good fucking girl.”

“Faster, shit please, faster,” he listened, driving his fingers to stroke her walls, “so good, Quinn, feels so good.”

The throbbing was unbearable, his fingers getting more action than his dick and her whispy volume may as well have been tugging him off. Quinn’s mind fogged watching her chest heave and eyebrows knit, body squirming the faster his fingers fucked her until she was breathless. He’d just been dreaming about that moment, but fantasies can only get you so far, the real thing proved twice as euphoric.

He pulled them out, fast, “Fuck this.” He flipped her back onto her side, pulling his angry cock from his shorts and running the tip along her sensitive folds, squeezing his eyes closed at the electric sensation that finally hit his body. Burying his face into the crook of her neck, he delved inside her and was immediately welcomed into a tight embrace. “Feel so fuckin’ good.”

“Fuck me, Quinn, please.” With her back against his chest, her hand fisted her pillow, his hips thrusting at a voracious pace, melting into her with every whimper that matched his hips. She stuffed her face into her pillow to silence herself, tears pricking and wetting the case the more the knot in her stomach tightened and twisted.

Despite instructing her to stay quiet, Quinn’s grunts would’ve given them away if his head weren’t in her hair. He’d never been this worked up before but living under the same roof as your family while spending every day watching his girlfriend prance around in short shorts and tiny bikinis and not having the freedom to fuck her senseless had that effect, he just wished they were absent so he could hear her scream his name like a mantra.

“Gonna cum-” y/n mumbled, cutting herself off with a strangled whine feeling his movements become slower but harsher.

“With me, princess,” his pace became sloppy, rigid and desperate, “cum with me.”

The knot snapped, a muffled whine tearing through her as Quinn fucked her languidly through her orgasm, his thick ropes filling her, stuffing her full and leaking down her thighs while they lay there, catching their breaths and muttering ‘I love you’ endlessly. She licked her lips, taking deep breaths and letting her eyes drift shut, limbs exhausted and sleep finally ready to tuck her in. He smiled, kissing her cheek.

“You did so well. Don’t sleep jus’ yet, gotta clean you up.”

“I’ll piss but only if you carry me.”

“Whatever you want, princess.”

[Masterlist]

[Requests CLOSED]

Banners & dividers belong to @/cafekitsune

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes x reader #nhl smut #hockey smut #nhl x reader #vancouver canucks #qh43 #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fanfiction #≡qh43

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mrs-weasley-reid · 2 months

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MADE HIS MARK

Spencer Reid x bau!reader

Synopsis: a shivery trip to a liquor cellar turned into a steamy secret between friends and a not-so-subtle reveal between a small herd of colleagues. Word Count: 5k+ WARNING: SMUT. please, please, MDNI !!! penetration (piv). unprotected sex (but fr wrap it up!!!). fingering (a lil bit). obsessed!spencer (bc why not?). ex friends with benefits to lovers. a pinch of angst if you squint. cursing. troublemaker spencer reid and reader. not proofread!! A/N: heavily influenced by the song Dress by Taylor Swift. I love me a TS song. I'm obsessed, and I saw the opportunity. Also, this is my first Spencer Reid smut fic. Be nice, and tell me what you think!

The sharp brush of spring and little kisses from the evening air prompt you to savor the shivery feeling on your skin.

You take a deep breath before sliding your heels off, dangling them in your hand as you trail down the maze of a hallway in Rossi’s lavish home. Your dress is now a product of a shoddy decision.

All you knew was how presentable and wedding-appropriate it was, but you never realized why you would wear such a dress barely sewn for the crisp evening weather in May.

“Hiding from everyone?”

A smile instantly layers over your painted lips before you can even raise your gaze ahead. There’s this tickle of warmth that sparks inside of you the moment you hear his voice. Hands shaking in an intense subconscious buzz of excitement. Thrilling.

No other than Dr. Spencer Reid is ten feet away from you, standing lazily against the wall. His hair is messy from all the magic tricks he tore out to Jack and Henry and, funnily enough, Penelope, too.

Bright gleam shines on your face, flashing a saccharine smile you can only muster when the receiver is him. You shake your head.

"Are you?"

One hand in his pocket. Spencer shyly nods, “I ran out of magic tricks, and Jack figured out one of my tricks halfway through my little show.” He explains without persuasion, staring into space with playful horrid written all over his face.

You steal the half-full glass from his other hand, cringing at the taste of sparkling cider. “One sip won’t kill you, you know…” You say, shoving the glass back into his hand.

Spencer laughs, “You’d love to see me drunk, don’t you?” He quips, a sheepish smile growing with each syllable.

“Very much so,” You nod, making a beeline to the kitchen to find some kind of beverage that’ll knock you out ‘til the next day.

He follows you like a tail. Your senses feel his warmth, his breath fanning against your exposed back. The feeling of his tall presence behind leaves your breath hitching between inhales and exhales, and you’d love more than his figure on your trail. You ache for something more than the image of him in your wake. You need him merged with your soul, his body tightly pressed against yours. You crave something harsh.

It’s wishful thinking.

“What took you so long? Did you not notice I was gone?” He wonders.

Or is it?

“It’s cold out here, you know,” Spencer pouts in your peripheral.

You want your lips to wipe them off, then turn them into an O.

“Aww, does pretty boy genius feel lonely?” You tease over your shoulder, tapping his chest with the back of your hand. Your brows jump, twisting on your heels to face him. “I’ll be damned,” You exclaim, pushing your palm against his pec with more pressure.

It's been so long since you touched him with more than an accidental brush of your fingertips. His body stiffens under your light squeeze. And the thirst for more slowly dries the circumference of his throat.

“Reid, when’d you get this fit? No wonder women are all over you.” Genuine curiosity takes over, looking up at him with fluttering lashes.

Spencer scoffs, leaning down eye to eye with you, “I’ve always been hot.” He retorts with a straight face. The confidence radiates, and it does something in the pit of your stomach.

A brief silence whooshes between your bodies, and the next thing you know, both of you are laughing ‘til your cores cramp.

You gasp for air, head against his sternum, hand still placed over his pec. “Don’t ever say that in front of Morgan. He might get a stroke.” You begin walking once more, turning your back to him.

“I am! Don’t you agree?” You do. He banters a few feet away, keeping a safe distance—or so help the impulsive thoughts that are whirling around his mind. A playful grin works his facial muscles out, only hoping that you didn’t notice the way he takes in your scent like a bait set out for him.

Spencer didn’t even need to run to catch up with you. His strides are five times longer than yours.

You feel a soft fabric cover your shoulders, accompanied by a heavy arm that burns your skin in pure reflexive need. “I thought you were cold?” You ask, glancing to your left, where Spencer walks beside you.

Spencer shrugs, “Rather feeling cold than you getting a cold tomorrow morning. The chances of me getting sick from being cold tonight versus you sneezing on me like a troll is 15 to 85 percent.” He replies calmly, earning a light smack from your hand.

You roll your eyes, but your smile never travels far. It only happened once. And you both swore once was enough.

The two of you became friends during your time in the Academy. You’ll never forget the first time you met him. The urge to shove a sock inside his yapping mouth over the repercussions of shaking someone’s hand. Most people say the two of you are best friends. Somehow, his intelligence didn’t set you apart. You tolerated his constant rambles, and he tolerated your random bursts of sass.

It's more than that though. The entanglement was more than two friends. More than innocent study sessions. More than a trip to the nearest shooting range.

As two twenty-one-year-olds who's never felt the most sensual touch before, one minute of forced proximity and all hell broke loose. What seemed so platonic was sexually intimate behind closed doors.

However, in lieu of staying attached to the hip, the two of you went your separate ways after graduation. You went to pursue each respective interest. You both said no hard feelings. And both believed things would never work anyway, because no one was willing to put in the work.

The two of you reconnected when you joined the BAU team almost a year ago. Meeting him once again was nerve-wracking. With unresolved fallout and nonexistent communication, it scared you a bit. But you should’ve known Spencer Reid has always been different—good, different. The bond you had didn’t seem too damaged. If anything, it was merely locked in a vault and became stronger than ever before. You managed to be civil—become friends.

And since then, you never ran out of ways to be in each other’s vicinity. Or he just always succeeded in keeping you interested in his antics. Or you’re just addicted to him more than you’d like to admit.

But friends don't shake from mere self-control. Friends don't choke on breaths when the other touches them. Friends don't—

“What percentage of alcohol will you get from Rossi’s cellar?” He curiously asks, his warmth keeping you from shivering.

The damned dress.

And his damned loose tie.

You chuckle shakily, “You’d love to see me drunk, don’t you?” You mimic, throwing back the same antic he used not a few minutes ago. He rolls his eyes, and you open the door to the cellar. “I was tasked to choose the best whiskey ever made.” You announce, sinking deeper into confinement.

“So you lost a bet.” Spencer laughs, following behind. He shakes his head when you nod yours. “You don’t even drink whiskey.” He smirks.

“Go back out there, then,” You shoo him away, waving your hands. “I didn’t ask you to join me on my quest.” You add in a giggle, tying your hair up in a messy ponytail after setting your shoes on the table in the middle of the room.

You don’t see the way he swallows at the sight of your nape. The same way you hadn't notice his self-restraint for the past year, for the entire evening, dipping his hands in his pockets to hide his clenched fists. Because if he doesn't, they just might crave the feeling of your skin against the texture of his palm.

“And what if you can’t reach the best whiskey?”

“I’m a federal agent, too, Reid. I’m smart enough to figure that out.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re similar to a hobbit.”

The brows on your face lift over your forehead. "Excuse me?" Your mouth fall agape in disbelief, scoffing.

Spencer shrugs, "You're excused."

Amusement twitch the ends of your lips. "You sure you're not drunk?" Your eyes narrow, scanning him from head to toe.

"I'm not." He defends. Scarlet skin glows underneath the soft light. Spencer averts his eyes, stealing a mouthful of a sigh from the chilly air. Okay, maybe he stole one glass of scotch from the unit chief, took a sip, and felt his body on fire, so now he's settled down for ciders the entire evening.

You smirk, "Then, why are you being so clingy?" Arms cross over your chest. You raise a brow in question.

Spencer rolls his eyes, silently clearing his throat. "Why not? There's no harm in hanging out with you." His tongue pushes against the inside of his cheek.

"There is when said friend is acting like a clingy boyfriend." You say, skimming through the shelves of liquor adorning the walls from ceiling to floor.

“Right,” Spencer states blandly, finding himself a seat. “I’m just a friend. I can’t act any other way. I can’t even give you any affection, huh?” He deadpans, tracing the wood patterns on the table.

Your eyebrows crease in the middle of reaching for a bottle. You slowly go up behind him and smack the back of his head without warning.

“Ow!” He hisses. “What was that for?” Spencer complains, face scrunching in temporary pain.

“For being weirder than usual.” You say, hitting his shoulder. “Stop it.” You scold, finger-pointing over his chest.

Spencer is not one to be petty. Never petty over the boys you mingle with for a short period. Never be petty over your tendencies to somehow land on the worst species of men. Since the two of you reconnected as colleagues, he's minded his business. Why now? And why the hell is your heart pounding obnoxiously?

He theatrically rolls his eyes, “Am I wrong? Aren’t I just your friend?” There is something in his tone that you can't distinguish. His face is awkward and reserved, as always, but something is different.

You know. You just love lying to yourself.

“What else are you going to be?!” Even you are surprised at the volume of your voice.

The creak of the small open window fills the room. None of you dares to say a word. No one dares to breathe within each other's personal bubble.

You break eye contact first, stepping away, but Spencer has other plans. His hands land on your waist, gripping the flesh to keep you between his legs.

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself,” The luminescence of his eyes turns a shade darker. Chocolate hazel eyes gradients to deep earthy irises. Or it may have been the dim lighting in the room and the glass of wine in your system.

You swallow—roughly like a ball of sandpaper rows down your throat. Fingers lace above his textured ones, wrapping over the long digits to get their bruises off your skin.

“It’s a simple question. There’s no reason to dread it.” You almost stumble on your words, taking well-needed pauses to huff a small breath. You try to break his grip on you, but they don’t budge one bit.

The more you attempt to remove his hold, the more they tighten against the little fabric over your skin.

Your brows knit. A sigh of defeat escapes your lips as your gaze travels back to him. “Spencer, stop—” Your spine shivers when he starts to lazily move his thumbs in slow, firm strokes.

Spencer stands in silence, staring at you like you are a doe he preyed on. His eyes start to make your legs melt, and your heart races wildly.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

His gaze flickers over your lips, “Why don’t you answer the question for me? Since you’re so smart, it seems.” A tone of clear mockery spills from his lips. Spencer smirks under his signature smile—smug and utterly amused by the sound of your small, hitched breaths.

“Can you stop kidding around?” You prattle. A peel of awkward laughter shoots straight down your bones. It was all you could do to relieve the growing tension between your thighs. Or else you’d jump on him like a desperate psychopath.

"Who says I'm kidding around?" Spencer narrows his eyes. "I never kid around." He squeezes your sides once more and grins when a soft gasp rattles out of you. He hasn't done that in so long, and the nostalgia and buzz spark something in his chest.

Thick, airy gulp forces itself down your throat. You know why he does it. The same pattern of movements you knew so well in your younger days. The days you spent with him.

"We can't." It is almost inaudible, but he catches it. You lightly shake your head, backing away, "I-it's not— We can't."

Spencer raises his brows. "What are you so afraid of?" He reads your features for a moment. The gentle touch of his gaze along your searing skin is electrifying.

You nibble at the corner of your lip, "Let go of me, Reid." And it seems you love lying to him, too. Because you don't want him to let go. Desperate for his touch. The soft trail of his thumb. The primal clutch of his fingers, like they were claws. It was all too intoxicating to ever want him to let go.

“Answer the question first.” He flashes the smirk he’s been trying to hide like a villain, exposing his true colors. “I dare you.” Spencer challenges.

“You know the answer.” Your chest feels like exploding.

“Say it out loud, then.”

“Why should I?”

“Because we’re not leaving this position until you do.” His voice sparks fire in your core. Spencer doesn’t let his eyes stray from your moving lips. If anything, he makes a point that he is, in fact, staring at them like a starving lion, ready to pounce at any given moment.

Oh.

Well, isn't he such a sweetheart to feed you just what you crave? You don't know where it comes from, nor do you care, but there's at least four liquid cubic centimeters of boldness that flows through your veins.

Your laughter echoes in the cellar. “Please, or what?” You relax in his hold, convinced that he's just the same lanky guy you've always known. “You going to fuck me like a slut? Not exactly your M.O., pretty boy.” You tease, playfully tapping on his shoulders.

A low, hoarse chuckle vibrates across his chest. With lust-filled gaze and a thin, mischievous smile, Spencer shifts his eyes to look straight into yours.

“Exactly.”

Your eyes grow the widest they have ever been your entire life. “What—” Before you can stop him, his lips are already clashing against yours.

Spencer holds onto you as if he is falling off a cliff, and you are a branch about to snap any second. He kisses you aggressively, pulling you so tight, like he needs you glued to him.

You try to push him, but it doesn't take long until you give in. Until you kissed back.

You kissed him back.

You fucking kissed Spencer back.

The hands that recently danced on his shoulders begin to tug on the soft curls over his nape. The weight of his lips is starting to make your legs wobble.

Every scrape of his teeth against your stinging lips feels new. It isn't what you're familiar with. Your mind recalls his gentle touches and gentle words as if you'd break if he held you too tight. But the one kissing you isn't. The slice of his tongue over your lips is primal. He's not the Spencer you once knew. He's the Spencer you've been craving, so much so that the mere thought of bruises caused by his grip has been contaminating your mind since you started in the BAU.

His kisses deepened, warmth enveloping the two of you despite the chilly breeze inside the cellar. With breathless and plump lips, a new strike of desire courses throughout your body the longer you kiss.

Spencer breathes you in like oxygen, starving for more, never satisfied with just one gentle breath. It's new. And you love it.

Heaving, you and Spencer pull away, lips detaching and reattaching like magnets ’til distance is too far to push back. His lips are a darker shade of pink, swollen, and adorned with smeared lipstick. You don’t doubt the effect of making out with him gives you any more leverage, imagining your lipstick thickly outlines all over the rims of your mouth.

Judging by how Spencer stares at you like a satisfied drunken man, you presume he's loving every second more than he's prepared to admit. Most will wonder if his eagerness is merely a product of lost inhibitions. But a simple educated guess tells you that none of his actions are driven by alcohol. He's as sober as an ice cold water splashed over one's face.

Spencer lifts you on the table, standing between your thighs. The fabric of his pants scrapes against your skin, and your aching cunt throbs at the feeling. He cups your face into his large hands, reattaching your lips once more like it’s an unforgivable sin to keep them apart.

He pulls away after air fails him, resting his forehead over yours. “I want to be the only one who gets to fuck you like a slut, or so God help me—” Spencer closes his eyes agonizingly slow, “—No man near you will ever see daylight again.”

Your heart pounds against your chest, and you mentally beg Spencer to do so too—pound against your hips like you’re banned from ever walking again. The pressure of his voice and hot breath fanning against the land of your skin is ecstatically satisfying.

Spencer's hand drives up the slit of your dress, and at that moment, you know exactly why you chose to wear such an article of unfriendly clothing amidst your intolerance to the cold wind.

You wanted him to take it off of you.

You needed Spencer to take the dress off of you and fuck you hard.

The tickle of his lips trailing from your jaw to the spot underneath your earlobe has your back arching almost a hundred and eighty degrees. Ever the opportunist, Spencer takes it as his chance to pull you closer, squeezing your thigh with his palm.

You throw your head back, giving him access to more eager-to-be-touched skin. Legs wrap around his middle in utter pleasure, “Spencer…” You whine breathily, eyes fluttering close at the way he holds your flesh with both hunger and caress.

His mouth falls agape. Your voice. His name. It’s addicting. His world stops in a millisecond, reveling in the joy of your mouth, uttering his name with the intense pleasure he provides.

“We’re barely starting,” Spencer whispers against your clavicle, snaking his hand under your dress to the lining of your underwear. He swipes over your clothed clit.

You twitch under his touch. A total puppet wrapped around his finger while his literal thumb begins to toy with your clit. The pace makes you painfully and deliciously squirm.

Spencer loves the image before him, especially the rise of your chest as he plunges a finger, then two, inside your needy cunt. It’s the first time he’s ever heard your moans so... needy and begging and desperate and sweet and hot and something he knows you’ve never reached the volume before with other men, and he’s hooked—addicted.

“You have no idea what your dress did to me the whole night.” He muffles on your neck. Wet kisses echo at the touch of his lips. Spencer buries himself in your scent, one hand unzipping your dress. “No idea how much I wanted to take it off of you.” He whispers next to your ear.

A hum spills at the ring of his words. His kisses start to sting, and burning hues form on your skin. Spencer marks you with his tongue and teeth.

It's euphoric. His hunger. His need. And you want nothing else but to give him whatever he wants, the same way he gives you everything you need.

The sound of his fly distorting in the air makes your skin tingle, nipples perk, and cunt quiver. You whine when he pulls away, already missing his heat.

Spencer’s eyes soften, “Are you sure you want this to continue? When we were friends with benefits things didn't work—”

“Shut up, take my dress off, and fuck me, Spencer.” You heave, or beg, or whichever fits the way you eagerly undo his tie and unbutton his shirt while kissing the soft spot on his neck, marking him yours.

The vibration of his chuckles sent delicious throbs down to your cunt, drooling to be filled by him.

“Aren't you needy—” Spencer lifts his arms in defense, “—alright, shutting up now.”

The cold is nowhere else but the back of your mind. You feel wetness on the peak of his boxers. Spencer's hard erection suffocates him, and you're eager to relieve him in every possible way.

He immediately sighs when your dress droops down your waist. Spencer takes you in as if you're the most prized art in a museum. He takes every line, scars, birthmarks, or as simple as the crease of your breast into memory.

“So, so beautiful…” Spencer murmurs in sheer adoration and awe. He looks up as if God has listened to his prayers as if he’s a passionate believer. Thankful to have you within his reach.

Warmth coats you with every sweep of his hand on every curve and slope of your body. He’s memorizing each soft plush and perfect flaw. The sentiment alone heightens your arousal like you’ve been touch-starved for years.

A yelp comes out of you when he unexpectedly spreads the wetness on your folds, touching where you need him most. “Spencer, please…” It’s a plea. A begging need.

He circles on your clit with more pressure than the first. “You ready for me?” A vigorous nod responds to him while you bite your moans to keep them at bay.

Spencer pulls you closer by the small of your back. Your ass is almost falling off the edge of the table. The lacey cloth stretched on the side of your entrance. He aligns his slobbering tip with your equally desperate cunt.

Unsatisfied by your response, Spencer grabs your chin with so much force your bitten lips set free. “I need a verbal answer, sweetheart. I need to hear your voice say the words.” He’s begging, too, aching to slam just about all of him in one push.

The anticipation is frustrating. "I wa—" With a mere echo jumping out of your throat, Spencer takes it enough confirmation and thrusts his hips to meet yours.

Temporary pain and electrifying pleasure cause your body to shake, followed by a pornographic moan that Spencer muffles with his hand over half of your face.

Your mind spins around in endless bliss as his cock throbs at the pressure of your hold. Spencer doesn't move an inch, waiting for your signal.

“Please… move. Now.” Your voice is caught in the middle of your throat, dragging into a lovely gasp when he pulls back slowly.

With the tip of his cock the sole filler inside your cunt, Spencer thrusts back so fast, so good. He keeps a steady pace that leaves both of you a moaning mess.

Spencer pins your hips on the table, making sure he satisfies you with every force. He sucks a breath in, dizzy at the sight of your breast bouncing on his beat.

Can he surpass the knowledge that other guys have seen you undone like this? Never. Will he clash heaven and hell for the sake of pleasing you? The almighty and the merciless needn’t make yet another bet because they know Spencer will drag anything, anyone, to kneel before you.

Because Spencer needs you undone like you have never been before. He craves to be the first to fuck you like it's the last thing you’ll ever do.

You're addicting. An influence he freely lets himself get sucked in. Spencer wishes he could brand himself with your name, eager to be yours. He's desperate to be called yours.

Spencer adorns your skin with red and purple hues, beaming at the sight of his marks with every echo of his lips popping yet another possessive tattoo.

The pleasure he gives sends you beyond time and space. Euphoric daze fogs up your brain. Vision locked inside your skull, eyes permanently rolled into sensual darkness.

“Spence…”

Fuck. The nickname drips perfectly off your lips. You and only you can make his cock even harder just by saying his name. He doesn’t try to keep his head from spiraling into desires, desperately imagining all the ways he can own you.

You gasp shakily, feeling the knot in your abdomen begin to tighten. One, two—five more strokes and you enter a void filled with sparkling stars and mind-numbing pleasure.

Spencer doesn't stop, just as you wish, through broken moans and nails digging into the thin layer of his skin. Not a single pace slower or faster. And it is fucking blissful.

Your moans drool off your lips, clenching around his cock. He rides your high like a limited experience that he will never get to try again. Though, you're sure there’ll be more clandestine rendezvous than you both are willing to admit. You both know this isn't the last you’ll ever get a taste of him. And it is not the last time he’ll crave you like oxygen.

A hand reaches out for his nape, carding your nails at the tangles of his hair. You begin to comb between his curly strands, massaging the scalp beneath. Spencer spits out a tasteful curse dedicated to the pleasure the sensation of your touch has given him.

“I keep up with my pill. I’m on a good window.” You assure him, breath hitching. “Fill me up, Spence.” You implore greedily, wanting nothing but all traces of him engraved inside and outside of you.

His mouth slacks open, burying his cock in the deepest part of you. “Fuck, you’re too good to me,” He hisses in utter bliss. Spencer jolts at the ecstasy that vibrates out of him, emptying himself through the depths of your walls.

Spencer rests his forehead against yours, whispering praises like you suddenly became his goddess. His senses tingle. And he doesn’t want time to continue.

Your ragged breaths sync with his and soon turn even. Years of yearning are fulfilled in one evening. The prick of his bites floods your senses.

“What was the question again?” You giggle out, still, a bit out of breath, breaking the silence.

Spencer playfully rolls his eyes, zipping up the back of your dress with a kiss on your shoulder. “I basically asked, ‘What are we’ like a typical chick in a movie.”

“I can’t believe you just said that.” Your sweet laughter follows while Spencer covers you once more with his jacket despite the clear indication of sweat glistening over your forehead that you’re not nearly as cold anymore. "That many?"

Pride surges across his chest, beaming. "Like a canvas drenched with paint." He softly bites his lower lip, satisfied by the work he has done.

You glance down, gasping at the sheath of love bites. "More like a slab of beaten up flesh." Your head lifts up to look at him in disbelief. Spencer painted every inch of your skin, no space left untouched. You don't even recognize your skin anymore.

"Maybe this will help," He reaches on the back of your head, tugging on the band. Your hair drapes over your neck.

"No, Reid. It does not help at all." Blinking, you slap his arm lightly, earning a shrug and a peck on your lips. He simply fastens the buttons of his jacket on you, covering everything the fabric can.

He hunches down to pick up the tie you discarded on the floor. When he stands back up, he says, “We can keep this between us for now while we figure things out if you’d like. But we have to agree on one thing.” He tucks in a wild strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m yours, and you don’t have a choice. Sounds good?”

You giddily smile, nodding as you dangle your weak legs over the table. “What about me? Can’t I be yours?” You coax, fixing his tie.

"Do you want to be? Because I'm content with just pleasing you every chance I get. I'm not in a rush."

"Spencer," You take his face in your hands. "Do you really want to just be friends with benefits?"

He swipes his tongue over his lower lip. "No..." Spencer squeaks under his breath.

You nod, humming. "Good, because I don't want you like a best friend either." You flatten the crease on his shoulders.

"So?" Spencer chases your eyes, hoping he can read your mind.

"So, you're mine, and I'm yours. Sounds better, don't you think?"

"Sounds great." He simpers, helping you get back on your feet.

The two of you come back to the others with the worst whiskey in the cellar. Your hair is neat, and your lipstick is replenished. His tie sits presentably on his chest and hides the smallest purple mark on the base of his neck. Intricate measures for intricate people.

Derek complains. Penelope agrees. Rossi objects. Hotch sips his drink with no care. Emily laughs hysterically. JJ shrugs.

No one knows. Or no one cares. But the secret remain as is.

Perks of being seen as the most platonic friends. More so than the great Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia. What they know nothing about won’t hurt them, right? And it’s not like it’ll be any worse if they did.

Yet the absence of suspicion brews boredom and discontent. How come the others are suspicious enough, but not you and him? What's so dull in the air between you and Spencer that no one dares to wonder if romance ever crossed your minds?

Spencer drags his fingers on your thigh under the table. And no one suspects why you never take off his jacket despite dancing the night away.

And as the night deepens, like any other gathering, the group disperses into different areas and smaller groups.

“So?” JJ starts, wiggling her eyebrows.

“What?” You chuckle into the wine in your glass.

JJ rolls her eyes, “Did you give the photographer your number?”

Oh, yeah. You’d forgotten about the entire thing, glancing at the photographer who happens to have his lens on you. He smiles shyly, but you swear in your life that your shy boy is a lot more charming.

“Because if not, I think Will’s cousin has his eye on you, too,” JJ adds with a mischievous smile. The most supportive friend you’ll have. How will she react when she finds out?

You smile, looking far ahead at the pair of brown eyes.

Spencer returns the smile, Hotch’s voice muffling in the background.

“Like I said, it’s quite a little paperwork, but if you want to try things out and date, I have no problem with helping you out,” Hotch advises between sips of warm whiskey, talking about that one agent who approached Spencer at the bullpen thrice. What will he think when he finds out two of his agents are participating in fraternization?

They have no idea. Not an inkling of doubt whatsoever.

The naivete. It bores you and Spencer. It’s prosaic. It’s unglamorous.

From one end to another, the same words echo.

“I’ll have another drink.”

The two of you stand from each end, meeting over the table with vast choices of alcohol. You pick up a glass as Spencer stands next to you.

“Take it off?”

“Take it off.”

And you went separate ways.

JJ’s eyes widen at the small hint of marks on your chest, jacket slightly drooping over your shoulder.

Hotch doesn’t say a word when he notices the hickey on Spencer’s neck when the younger agent loosens his tie and undoes one button—and Hotch quotes—because of the heat. His peripheral catches JJ, Emily, and Penelope hovering around you like a group of crows scavenging for some sort of fleshy information he thinks he knows what’s about.

“A simple no would’ve suffice,” Hotch says evenly. “But you’re still filling out paperwork. Am I clear?”

Spencer stifles a smug smirk, looking down on his drink. “Clear.”

reid masterlist | masterlist

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lee-laurent · 2 months

Text

Finding A Way - Luke Hughes

Summary: Luke is smitten with the new media girl for the Devils, the only issue... she has a boyfriend already (and he's a Flyers fan)

Content: angst, fluff, cheating, unhealthy relationship, emotional abuse, mentions of sex but no smut

wc: 6.5k

notes: this fic deals with some serious issues, so if you're not comfortable reading PLEASE do not continue. your mental health is wayyyyy more important than a fic, i promise :) however if you do decide to read, enjoy! i've had this written in my notes app for a while and just decided to finish it and put it on here!

Adelaide giggled as Luke stopped suddenly, letting the ice spray over the girl and her camera. Jack watched from the other side of the ice with Nico, rolling his eyes at the sight. Luke had been flirting with the new media girl since the season started but was still adamant that he didn't like her in a romantic way.

"When is he gonna ask her out?" Nico asked, knocking his should with Jack's.

"He still claims that he doesn't like her," Jack shrugged, narrowing his eyes as Adelaide giggled again.

"Well, he's clearly lying. Because they're definitely flirting."

"I keep telling him to bring her over, but he refuses."

"What's going on?" Dawson asked, joining his teammates.

"My brother is trying to get with the media girl."

"Adelaide? I don't blame him; she's hot."

"We all know she's hot, Mercer. It's just that he's too chicken to actually ask her out."

"Luke, you're supposed to be practicing," Adelaide teased, wiping the ice from her camera lens.

"I was just coming closer so you can get some good shots of me," Luke cheesed.

"I have enough photos of you. Tell your brother to start moving so I can get some of him.

"Oh, I see how it is. You want pictures of Jack, but not me. Should've known. He always gets the girls," he smirked.

Adelaid blushed at Luke's teasing, hiding her face in her hands. She'd be lying if she said she didn't find the rookie cute. He had made her feel welcome since day one, which the media girl thought was strange seeing as Luke was the shyer of the two Hughes boys.

"I didn't say that at all, Luke. Now go practice before you get us both in trouble."

Luke offered her one last smile, before joining the boys in their next drill. He caught Adelaide's eye few more times during practice, but she was busy taking pictures and speaking with her coworkers to pay him much attention. However, he was able to catch her as he was leaving the locker-room.

"Ady! Wait! Do you need a ride home?" he panted.

"Oh, um, I have a ride. Thanks though, Luke."

"Oh, who's your-"

"Babe! Come on!" a man standing near the entrance shouted. Luke felt his heart drop at the other man's words. He had just called the woman that Luke liked "babe." He could have sworn she was flirting back... guess not.

"One second, Matt! I'm just saying goodbye to Luke."

Luke watch the other man, Matt, roll his eyes and cross his arms over his chest. Tapping his foot impatiently as Adelaide turned to the rookie one last time.

"Maybe I'll bum a ride off you and Jack another time. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon for the game," she smiled, patting him on the shoulder. Luke watched from afar as Matt interlaced his fingers with Adelaide's, talking to her quickly and quietly.

"Come on, Rusty. Where's Ady? I thought you were offering her a ride?" Jack asked, snapping his brother out his stupor.

"She just left with her... boyfriend?"

"She has a boyfriend? Damn. Could've sworn she was into you. Sorry, bro."

Jack's words just pissed Luke off further. He turned on his heel, storming off to the boys' car.

"Luke, you can't mope around for the rest of the day just because the media girl has a boyfriend. I mean, the whole team thinks she's hot, so I'm not surprised she's taken," Jack tried to cheer up his younger brother.

"You're not helping, Jack."

"Sorry, I'm trying," Jack rolled his eyes.

"Just leave me alone. I'm not in the mood to deal with your dumbass."

"Whatever."

"Matt, it's not like that. He was just being nice."

"Sure, he was, Ady. Because all those horny hockey boys you work with are always just 'being nice.'"

"You're being unreasonable. Luke is new like me. He's just helping me fit in."

"I don't want you talking to him unless it's work related."

"Okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Ady sighed, looking down at the floor.

"It's ok, princess. I'm not mad," Matt cooed, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I love you."

"I love you too, Matt," she cracked a small smile, pressing a kiss to his lips.

Adelaide loved Matt. And Matt loved Adelaide. They'd been together for almost a year. He protected her from the guys she worked with, at least that's what he told her. Without Matt she wouldn't be safe. She needed him.

"Alright, have a good game. I'm out tonight with the boys, so make sure you get a ride with... what's her name? Sandra?"

"Sarah, Matt. Her name is Sarah. I've told you that like ten times today," Ady sighed, opening the car door.

"Whatever. Doesn't matter. I'll be out late, so don't wait up." And with that, Matt had driven off. Addy sighed, brushing her hair out of her face. She just needed to get through the game and ask Sarah for a ride home. Easy enough; she'd be fine. And everything would go as planned and-

"Adelaide!"

Her eyes shot up, locking with no other than Jack Hughes'. She looked around as if he'd be calling on someone else, but she was the only person in the room.

"Um, hi, Jack."

"Can I speak with you for a moment?" he begged.

"Yeah, sure. What's up?"

"So, you know my brother Luke?"

"Yeah? We work together?"

"Right, so... he has a HUGE crush on you and I was wondering if-"

"I have a boyfriend."

"Oh. Okay, but-"

"I love my boyfriend."

"But-"

"No 'buts.' This conversation is done. I love Matt."

"Yeah, you said that," Jack furrowed his brow, watching as she sped away to her office. Who was she trying to convince about loving Matt? Jack or herself?

Jack stood there, his mind racing. He watched Adelaide disappear into her office, a part of him still hopeful that maybe there was more to the situation than met the eye. But her words her clear, and it wasn't his place to push any further.

As he walked back to the locker room, he saw Luke waiting by the team's gear. The younger Hughes brother looked like he was trying to shake off a bad mood, but his face was still set in a scowl.

"Hey bro, you alright?" Jack asked, trying his best to sound natural.

Luke shrugged, not meeting his brother's gaze, "Yeah, just... not feeling great."

Jack hesitated before replying, "Look, I know you're bummed about Adelaide. But if she's with Matt and she says she loves him, then... well there's not much you can do."

Luke nodded, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. The team gathered for their pre-game talk, but the tension between the brothers was palpable. Jack glanced over at Luke frequently, wishing he could say something to make things better, but he knew some things were just out of his control.

Meanwhile, Adelaide was back in her office, trying to focus on the game. But the encounter with Jack kept replaying in her mind. She knew Matt could be overprotective, but his jealousy was like a thorn in her side.

As she was preparing to leave for the rink, her phone buzzed. It was a text from Sarah, confirming her ride home. She felt a small sense of relief. At least she wouldn't have to worry about getting home alone.

The game was intense. Adelaide took photos from the sidelines, trying to stay fully focused on her job. But her thoughts just kept drifting back to Luke and her conversation with Jack. She saw Luke on the ice, giving it his all, and she felt a pang of regret.

After the game as the players were filing out, Adelaide was about to leave when Jack approached her again.

"Hey, Ady. Can I talk to you for a second?" he asked, his tone softer than before.

"Sure, what's up?" she replied, trying to hide her exhaustion.

"I just wanted to apologize if I pushed too hard earlier. I just thought maybe-"

"I appreciate it, Jack. But it really is just how things are. Matt and I... are committed to each other."

"Yeah, I get that. I just hate seeing my brother like this."

"I understand. It's complicated, and I wish it were easier. But thanks for understanding."

Jack nodded and gave her a small, sympathetic smile, "Alright, well, see you around, Adelaide."

"Bye, Jack."

As she walked out to meet Sarah, she felt a mix of relief and uncertainty. She loved Matt, but the situation with Luke had stirred up emotions she wasn't ready to confront. For now, she needed to get through the night and take things one step at a time.

The days that followed were a blur for Adelaide. Her interactions with Luke were limited to work-related conversations and occasional small talk. She did her best to remain professional, but the chemistry between the two still lingered in her mind.

One evening, after a win against the Rangers, the team was out for drinks to celebrate. Adelaide was there with Sarah, trying to enjoy the night and push away the nagging thoughts of Luke.

Luke, for his part, was trying to keep his distance, but it was clear he was still hung up on Ady. When the group decided to hit up the nearby bar after the game, Adelaide and Sarah were among the last to arrive. And once he saw her in the bar, the alcohol in his system was not going to keep him from talking to her.

"Hey, Ady," he smiled, approaching her and Sarah. "Glad you made it."

"Hi, Luke," she replied, her voice tinged with a mixture of relief and hesitation.

They chatted casually at first, but as the night went on, Adelaide found herself increasingly drawn to Luke. They laughed together, shared stories, and for a brief moment, the complications of her life seemed to melt away. The alcohol added a sense of liberation, and she noticed Luke looking at her with an intensity that made her heart race.

Eventually, the group's conversation grew more rowdy, and Sarah got caught up in chatting with some friends of the team. Adelaide, feeling a bit detached, slipped outside for some fresh air. Luke, quickly noting her absence, followed her.

"Ady, you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Yeah, just needed a breather," she said, looking up at the stars. "It's been a long week."

Luke stepped closer, his gaze locking with hers. "You don't have to put on a brave face all the time, you know. It's okay to feel tired and burnt out."

She smiled faintly, "Thanks, Luke. It's just... everything's been a bit overwhelming lately."

Before she could react, Luke reached out and gently touched her arm. The warmth of his hand sent a shiver down her spine. Adelaide looked up, her heart pounding. Luke's gaze was intense, and she could see the vulnerability in his eyes.

In a moment of impulsive recklessness, Adelaide leaned in, and their lips met. The kiss was electric, filled with a mix of desperation and longing. For a moment, all the complications, the guilt, and the responsibilities faded away.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless. Adelaide's mind was racing, torn between her love for Matt and the undeniable connection she felt with Luke.

"I shouldn't have-" Adelaide started, but Luke gently placed a finger on her lips.

"It's okay," he said softly. "We don't have to figure anything out right now."

She nodded, feeling a rush of confusion and regret. "I need to get back inside."

Luke watched her walk back into the bar, a mix of hope and apprehension in his eyes. He knew that this was just the beginning of a much more complicated situation.

Back inside, Adelaide's heart was heavy as she rejoined Sarah and the group. The guilt of what had just happened weighed on her, but she couldn't ignore the thrill and the intensity of the moment with Luke. As the night went on, she tried her best to act normal, but her mind was consumer by the memory of kissing Luke.

The argument had started over something small- Matt's habit of not cleaning up after himself- but it quickly escalated. Adelaide and Matt were in the kitchen of their apartment, voices raised.

"Seriously, Matt? I've asked you a million times to clean up your dishes!" Ady's frustration was evident, as she slammed a dish into the sink.

"I'm tired of this, Ady!" Mat retorted, his face flushed with anger. "It's not like I'm trying to ignore you. I've been busy with work and-"

"Busy? You're always busy with work, but you can't even make a little effort here?!" she shouted, her hands on her hips. "It's not just about the dishes; it's about the respect!"

Matt threw his hands up in exasperation. "Respect? You think I don't respect you? I work hard so we can have a good life. I'm tired of you always nitpicking!"

"It's not nitpicking, Matthew! It's about being partners in a relationship. I feel like I'm doing everything on my own," her voice trembled.

Matt's face hardened. "Maybe if you were a little more understanding, you'd see how much I'm trying. But no, you're just focused on what I'm not doing."

Her eyes filled with tears, "I'm not asking for perfection. I'm asking for some consideration. I'm tired of feeling like I'm always the bad guy here."

Matt's anger seemed to shift into frustration. "You know what? Maybe we need some space. I can't keep doing this every day."

The harshness in his voice stung, and Adelaide felt her heart sink. "So what? You want to just walk away?"

"No, I'm just saying maybe we need to take a break from fighting all the time. I need to cool off," Matt said, grabbing his jacket. "I'm going out with the guys tonight. Maybe that'll help."

Adelaide watched as he stormed out, the door slamming behind him. She was left standing in the kitchen, feeling a mix of anger, sadness, and frustration. The apartment felt cold and empty without him.

With no one else to turn to, Ady grabbed her phone and, in a moment of desperation, texted Luke, asking if she coud come over. Her unresolved emotions driving her to seek comfort elsewhere.

When she arrived at Luke and Jack's apartment, her mind was clouded with the aftermath of the fight. Luke opened the door, his concern clear as day as he saw her tear-stained face.

"Ady, what happened?" Luke asked, pulling her into the apartment.

"I just... needed to get away," she replied, her voice breaking as she sunk into the couch.

Luke sat next to her, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"I don't even know where to start," she laughed bitterly. "Matt and I had this huge fight. It's like we can't even get along anymore."

As Adelaide opened up about her frustrations, the conversation slowly shifted from comforting to more personal. The tension between the two grew palpable, and before they knew it, their emotions overwhelmed them. The lines between comfort and intimacy were blurred, leading them to kiss passionately.

The next morning, Adelaide woke up with a jolt, her head pounding. She turned to find Luke beside her, a mixture of confusion and guilt washing over her.

"Luke, I... we shouldn't have," Adelaide began, her voice trembling. "This was a mistake."

Luke's face hardened. "A mistake? You think this was just a mistake?"

"Yes," she said, her eyes welling up with tears. "I love Matt. I shouldn't have let this happen."

Luke sat up, frustration evident in his voice. "So, what are you saying? That I'm just some rebound? That this meant nothing?"

"No, it's not like that," she said, reaching for his hand. "It's just-"

"Just what?" Luke snapped, pulling away. "Just that you're confused? Or that you don't know what you want?"

"It's not about you, Luke!" she exclaimed, her voice rising. "It's about me and my choices. I'm committed to Matt. I need to figure out what I want."

Luke was seething. "Well, maybe you should've figured it out before coming here. This is exactly what I was afraid of- being used and then thrown away when it's convenient."

Adelaide recoiled, hurt by his words. "I never meant to hurt you."

Luke looked away, frustration and pain written on his face. "I thought we had something real, but now I see I was just a distraction."

"I didn't mean for this to happen," Adelaide said, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

Luke's expression softened slightly, but it was clear he was still hurt. "I get it. But I need time to process this. I can't just pretend it didn't happen."

"I understand," she replied, her voice just above a whisper. "I need to go."

As she gathered her things, the awkwardness and emotional distance between them was almost tangible. She glanced back at Luke, who stood silently by the door, a mix of anger and sadness in his gaze.

"I'll give you some space. I'm really sorry, Luke."

With that, she left his apartment, the weight of her actions heavy on her shoulders. As she drove away, the gravity of what had happened began to settle in, and she knew that repairing the damage she had caused would be an arduous journey.

Adelaide's hands shook as she gripped the steering wheel, her mind racing with the burden of what had just happened. Her thoughts were a chaotic swirl of guilt and confusion. She took a deep breath as she pulled into the parking garage, trying to steady herself before heading inside.

When she entered the apartment, the living room was dark, the only light coming from the sun filtering through the blinds. Matt was sitting on the couch, his posture tense and his face partially hidden in the shadows.

Her heart sank at the sight of him. "Matt, you didn't stay with the guys," she said, her voice shaky as she closed the door behind her.

Matt's gaze met hers, his eyes sharp and questioning. "Yeah. I decided to come home after all. I've been thinking."

"Oh, um, okay," she replied, trying to keep her composure as she walked further into the room.

Matt stood up and approached her, his expression a mix of concern and irritation. "So where were you? I tried calling, but you didn't answer."

Adelaide's heart raced. "I was out for a bit... I needed some fresh air. It was a rough day, ya know?"

Matt's eyes narrowed. "A bit? You were gone for hours. Did something happen?"

She hesitated, scrambling to come up with a believable excuse. "I just went for a drive to clear my head. Fell asleep in a parking lot. It's been stressful with everything going on."

Matt studied her for a moment, clearly unconvinced but unsure of what to say. "You didn't go see Luke, did you?"

The question hit her like a ton of bricks. She forced a nonchalant laugh, trying to mask her nervousness. "No, of course not. I haven't seen him. Why would you think that?"

His expression softened, but he still looked troubled. "I don't know, I guess I just... I felt like something was off. I didn't want to jump to conclusions."

Ady stepped closer to him, putting a hand on his arm. "Matt, I promise you, nothing happened. I was just out trying to process everything. I needed some space, and I didn't think to tell you because I thought you were also out."

Matt weighed her words, the tension in his shoulder easing. "Okay. I just- I don't want us to keep fighting. I care about you, Ady. I don't want there to be any secrets between us."

"I don't want that either," she said, her voice filled with sincerity she hoped would convince him. "I'm sorry for not being more communicative. I'll do better."

Matt nodded slowly, "Alright. Let's just try to move forward and work on things. I don't want to lose you."

Her heart ached, but she forced a smile. "I don't want to lose you either. We'll figure this out. I love you."

"I love you too."

They embraced, and Adelaide held him tightly, feeling both relief and guilt. As Matt settled back onto the couch, Ady joined him, trying to push away the lingering feelings from the night with Luke.

The weight of her deception was heavy, and as she sat beside Matt, the realization that she was living a lie began to settle in. She knew that maintaining the facade would be difficult, and the consequences of her actions were far from over. For now, though, she focused on keeping up the appearance of normalcy, hoping that time would help heal the rift she had created.

Luke felt like he was in a fog. The events of the previous night and that morning replayed in his mind. He knew he needed to talk to someone, but he wasn't ready to fully disclose what had happened. He decided to seek comfort in his brother, hoping for a little bit of guidance in his situation.

Jack met Luke at the rink, finding his brother sitting alone in the locker room. He approached him, a concerned look on his face.

"Hey, Rusty. You've been awfully quiet this morning. Everything okay?" Jack asked, sitting down beside him.

Luke sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Not really, man. I'm feelin' pretty messed up."

Jack cocked an eyebrow, sensing the seriousness of the situation. "You wanna talk about it or..."

"Sort of. It's... complicated," Luke said, avoiding eye contact. "I had a rough night, and I'm trying to make sense of things, I guess."

Jack frowned, "You sure you don't wanna spill the beans? Sometimes talking helps, ya know?"

Luke hesitated, searching for the right words. "It's not really something I can just talk about. I made some... choices that I'm regretting, and I feel like I've fucked things up, royally."

The older Hughes studied him carefully. "I get it. But you know, if you're feeling like you screwed up, you should at least be able to talk to someone you know won't judge you. I'm your brother, it's what I'm here for."

"Not that simple. I just don't wanna drag you into this. I just need to figure out what to do next."

"Are you like in serious trouble?"

"No, Jack... not serious trouble."

"I don't need to call the cops?"

"No, Jack," he laughed bitterly.

"Alright, well, don't bottle it up. You've got people who care about you, and we're all in this together."

Luke nodded, grateful for Jack’s support but still feeling the weight of his decisions. As they got ready for practice, Luke tried to focus on the task at hand, though his mind was still troubled by the consequences of the previous night.

Adelaide avoided Luke like he was the plague the next few days. She poured herself into work, using the camera as a shield to hide behind her. She kept her interactions with the team strictly professional, but her heart began to ache the first time her eyes met Luke's.

Jack noticed the change in his brother and the photographer. Their friendship had vanished, replaced by a strained silence. One day after pratice, Jack cornered Adelaide in the hallway outside the media room.

"Hey, Ady, got a minute?" he asked, casually leaning against the wall.

"Sure, Jack. What's going on?"

"I noticed that you and Luke have been... off lately. Did something happen?"

Her heart raced, but she forced a large smile. "No, nothing happened. We've just been busy with work and all!"

"Come on, Ady. I know you better than that. You two were inseperable when he started here, and now I don't think I've seen you talk to him in days. Did you guys have an argument or something?"

She sighed, the guilt weighing down her shoulders. "It's complicated. I don't want to get into it."

"Oh. Look, I get it if you don't wanna share. But just know that I'm here if you wanna talk. I care about you, so seeing you both like this is kinda hard."

"Thanks, Jack," her voice barely above a whisper. "Appreciate it."

"See you on the ice!"

"Yup."

God, what had she gotten herself into?

The rink was filled with sounds- the sharp scrape of skates on ice, the hollow thud of the puck hitting the boards, the shouted command of coaches, and the occasional shutter of Adelaide's camera lense. Luke Hughes moved with a ferocity that caught the attention of everyone on the ice. His usual smooth, calculated movements had been replaced by agressiveness. Every stride was powerful, every check delivered with a force that echoed through the arena.

"What's up with Rusty?" Jack muttered to Nico, who was stretching nearby.

Nico followed Jack's gaze. "Not sure, but he's been playing like he's possessed. Did something happen?"

Jack shrugged, keeping his eyes on Luke. "Don't know. He's been... off lately. Keeps to himself a lot more."

As practice continued, Luke's focus remained unbroken. He intercepted passes, delivered bone-rattling checks, and fired shots with pinpoint accuracy. His teammates began to whisper among themselves in the locker room, buzz building about the youngest Hughes.

"Hey, Lukey, what's going on with you?" Nico approached him.

Luke shrugged, "Focusing on my game. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is that you're playing like you're trying to prove something. Or like you're trying to forget something."

Luke clenched his jaws, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his towel. "Drop it, Nico. I'm just trying to play better."

"Alright, man. But if you need me, I'm here. Don't shut out the team."

Luke didn't respond, instead shoving his gear into his bag with a force that spoke for itself. Whatever was eating at him was serious, and the team feared it would affect more than just his game.

Adelaide was at her desk, her fingers flying against her keyboard as she edited photos from their last game. She was immersing herself in her work, hoping it would distract her from her inner turmoil. She was focusing on her job and spending as much time with Matt as possible.

The door to her office swung open, and Luke stepped inside, his presence immediately filling the small space. Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening at the determined look on his face.

"We need to talk," his voice barely concealing his anger.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. "Luke, I'm busy right now. Can it wait?"

"No," he said firmly, closing the door behind him. "We're not leaving this room until we sort this out."

"What is there to sort out? We made a mistake, and we need to move on."

"A mistake?" his voice rose. "Is that all it was to you?"

Adelaide flinched at his tone, "It's not that simple, Luke. You know it's not."

"Then make it simple for me," he demanded, stepping closer. "Do you have feelings for me or not?"

She looked away, unable to meet his intense gaze. "It doesn't matter what I feel. I'm with Matt. I've made a commitment to him."

Luke's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "So, you're just going to ignore what's between us? Pretend it doesn't exist?"

"What choice do I have?" she voice shook. "I love Matt. I can't just throw that away because I slept with you one time."

"Is that all you think this is? A fling?" his voice was filled with heart.

Adelaide felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "No, but it can't be more than that. It's too complicated."

Luke took a step back, "You're scared. You're scared to admit that you want something different. That you might actually care about me. That you aren't happy with Matt."

"That's not true," she whispered, her resolve crumbling. "I do care about you, but it's not fair to anyone if I act on it."

"Fair?" Luke scoffed. "Life isn't fair, Adelaide. You can't just ignore your feelings because it's inconvenient."

She shook her head, the tears spilling over. "I'm trying to do the right thing. I can't hurt Matt like this."

"And what about me?" his voice cracked. "Do I not matter?"

"Of course you matter," she cried, reaching out to him. "But I can't do this. I can't be with you."

Luke stared at her a moment, his breathing heavy. Then, without warning, he crossed the distance between them in two quick strides and cupped her face in his hands. Before she could react, his lips were on hers, kissing her with a desperation that took her breath away.

She was stunned at first, but then melted into it, her hands gripping his shirt to ground herself. For a moment, all her feelings of guilt and doubt vanished, replaced by the overwhelming feeling of being with him. Of being with Luke.

But reality crashed back in and she pulled away, panting. "Luke, we can't."

"Don't tell me you didn't feel that. Don't tell me you don't want this."

"I do want it. But I can't. I have to think about Matt. I have to think about everyone else."

Luke's shoulders fell, the fight leaving his body. "Fine. If that's how you feel, I'll back off. But don't expect me to just forget out this. About... us."

Adelaide sat back down, staring blankly at her computer screen. The photos she was supposed to be editing blurred together, her mind far too preoccupied. She sighed, rubbing her temples in a futile attempt to clear her mind. They kiss that they had just shared haunted her, the memory replaying over and over again, making it impossible to do any work.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Matt: "Dinner tonight? Been missing you lately <3"

Guilt twisted her stomach as she typed back her response. "Sure, sounds great. I miss you too."

She hit send and put her phone down. She felt like a fraud. Everything felt tainted by her feelings for Luke. She decided to take a break from working, grabbing her coat and leaving the office. She was craving some fresh air. As she walked, she called Sarah. The one person she knew she could talk to about anything, and right now, she really needed her advice.

"Hey, Ady! What's up?"

"Hey, Sarah. Can you meet up? I really need to talk."

"Of course. How about the coffee shop near the area in fifteen?"

"Perfect. See you soon."

Adelaide arrived quickly and ordered herself a latte. When Sarah walked in, she felt a wave of relief. Sarah took one good look at her and knew something was wrong.

"What's going on, Ads?"

"I've messed up, Sarah. Big time."

Sarah reached across the table and held her hand. "Tell me everything."

Over the next hour, Adelaide spilled her guts to her confidante. Telling Sarah all about her feelings for Luke, the kiss, the night they spent together, and the guilt that was tearing her apart.

"Ady, it sounds like you're in a really tough spot. But you have to honest with yourself and with Matt. This isn't fair to anyone, especially not to you."

"I know. But I don't know how to choose. I care about them both so much."

"Maybe you need some time to figure things out. Take a step back, give yourself some space to think about what you really want."

"You're right I just need to clear my head. Thanks, Sar."

"No worries, Ads. That's what I'm here for."

"Luke, we need to talk."

"Not now, Jack," Luke muttered, not even looking away from the TV.

"Yeah, now," Jack insisted. "You've been acting insane. What's going on?"

"I can't, Jack. Just... drop it."

"Nope. Not happening," Jack sat next to him, turning off the TV. "Whatever this is, it's eating you alive. Talk to me."

Luke's frustration boiled over. "It's Adelaide, alright? We... we kissed. We... slept together. And then things got out of hand."

"You and Adelaide? Seriously?" Jack's eyes widened in shock.

"She said it was a mistake, that she loves Matt. But... I can't get her out of my head."

"Holy shit, Luke. That's... a lot. But you can't keep it bottled up. It's tearing you apart."

"I know... but I don't know what to do."

"Look, you need to talk to her. Clear the air. This tension is gonna kill ya both. And if she really loves Matt, you need to try to respect that and move on."

"Yeah. I know. But it's so damn hard."

"I get it, bro. But just take it one step at a time. And remember I'm here for you. Even when you royally fuck up like this."

That evening when Adelaide walked in the door, she could already feel Matt's anger. He was pacing back and forth in the living room.

"Adelaide. We need to talk," his voice was taut with anger.

"What about, Matt?"

"About us! About how distant you've been. It's like you're here, but you're not really here," he snapped, his eyes searching hers for an explanation.

"I've been under a lot of pressure with work. You know that."

"This isn't just about work, Ady! You've been avoiding me. We barely talk anymore, and when we do, it's about the team or the game. When was the last time we slept together? When was the last time you were focused on us? What happened to us?"

She felt a pang of guilt, but also a rush of anger. "Maybe if you weren't so obsessed with your career, we wouldn't be having this problem! You're never around, Matt. And when you are, you don't speak to me!"

"That's not fair. You knew how important work was to me when we got together. I thought you supported me."

"I do support you, but I can't be the only one making sacrifices. This is a partnership, not a one-way street."

"A partnership? That's rich coming from you! You used to be my biggest cheerleader, and now I don't even recognize you!"

"Maybe I changed because you never made me feel like I mattered!" she spat back. "It's always been about you and your career, your dreams. What about mine, Matt? What about mine?"

"I never stopped you from chasing your dreams! You can't just blame all our problems on me! You made choices too."

Ady tried her best to think of a response, but Matt continued before she could.

"I can't do this anymore, Ady. I don't even know who you are anymore," his voice breaking with resignation.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe we both need to figure out what we really want," she looked down at her feet.

"I thought we wanted the same thing. But I guess not. Maybe we've grown too far apart."

"I wish things were different, Matthew. I really do."

"Yeah, me too."

For a moment, it seemed like they were about to part ways without another word. But then Adelaide made a gut-wrenching decision. "Matt, there's something I need to tell you. I.... I cheated on you. With Luke."

The confession hit Matt like a punch to the gut. His eyes widened with shock, then narrowed with rage. "What did you just say?"

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen. It was a mistake-"

"A mistake?" Matt exploded. "You think that's just a mistake? You've been lying to me, hiding things from me while I thought we were trying to fix things!"

Adelaide tried to reach out to him, but he stepped back, his anger turning into something darker. "I didn't want to hurt you. I was confused, and I made a terrible choice."

His face turned red with fury, "You've betrayed me, Adelaide. You've crossed a line. I can't just let this go. You've been living a lie while I've been trying to make thing work."

"I'm so sorry, Matt. Just let me explain."

"No!" his voice echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls. "I don't want to hear it. You've shattered everything we had. I'm done. I can't even look at you right now."

Adelaide sat in her dimly lit apartment, feeling the weight of the last few days pressing down on her. The space felt unusually empty, and the silence was almost deafening. She had spent the entire day reflecting on everything that had transpired and was now preparing for an important conversation.

Her phone buzzed, signaling Luke's arrival. She took a deep breath and went to open the door.

Luke stood there, his expression a mixture of resolve and concern. "Hey," he said softly as he stepped inside.

"Hey," Adelaide replied, trying to muster a reassuring smile. "Thanks for coming over."

They moved to the living room, sitting across from each other. The atmosphere was heavy with unspoken words. Adelaide broke the silence first.

"I wanted to talk about everything that's happened. I know I've hurt you. And I've hurt Matt. And I need to take responsibility for that."

Luke nodded, his gaze was steady but pained. "I appreciate you saying that. I was hurt, and it's been hard trying to understand like... why everything went down the way it did."

"I never meant to hurt you. I was confused. Stuck in a relationship that had been loveless for a while. I was avoiding issues instead of talking about them."

"I get that. I was confused too. We both made mistakes, but we can acknowledge that."

"I think... no, I know that I want to be with you, Luke. I just... can we take things slow? Like super slow? I think I need to process everything that just happened," she giggled lowly.

"Yeah, of course. I'd like that a lot, Ady. Let's take this one day at a time.

"Sounds perfect."

Luke smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Now, why don't you tell me why I'm your favourite Hughes brother," he smirked.

She rolled her eyes, "If I must..."

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #luke hughes #luke hughes fic #luke hughes imagine

280 notes · View notes

wintfleur · 6 months

Note

omg stella telling her brothers she’s starting an only fans as a prank!! they would kill her

౨ৎ it’s just a prank!

﹕─┈ pairings ( Estella Hughes oc! X siblings! Hughes brothers )

°. — details ( g; fluff, humor. w; Stella being a little goofy and her brothers are being protective. wc; 2.6k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( omg nonnie you are a genius, I had so much fun writing this !!! So sorry it took so long for me to get out. I hope you guys enjoy it !!! )

°. — ( in no way am I meaning to offend anyone who does do only fans or anything like that, by writing Stella’s brothers not being supportive of her doing only fans. I hope that makes sense )

°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )

au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!

Stella was laying in her bed ⸺ well technically the guest bed in the guest room in her brother's jack and Luke's apartment. She was having her annual visit, and it was the time of day where her brothers were both napping, and she wasn't in the mood to go out by herself. She was honestly feeling quite bored not having her brothers around to annoy, that's why she was aimlessly scrolling through TikTok. But her boredom was quickly healed when she watched the latest TikTok lily sent her, a mischievous smile forming on her lips as her mind already formed a plan.

Stella swiftly slipped out of bed and grabbed her hoodie and put it over her tank top before leaving the room. She heard the faint sound of her brother's voice coming from the kitchen, she could tell that they just woke up from their tone. Both of her brother's heads turned to her as she walked into the kitchen, Luke giving her a tired smile as Jack just groaned and rested his head on the cold island counter they were sitting at. “Can you grab us the milk?” Jack groaned tiredly and Stella rolled her eyes but got the milk for them, nonetheless, setting the carton next to the box of cereal the two were about to destroy.

Stella pulled out a box of fruit snacks and set them on the counter, only using that as a distraction so she could prop up her phone to film them without them seeing it. She started the video and gave the camera a wink before she turned around and faced her brothers who were shoveling cereal into their mouths. Stella leaned back against the counter and asked, “Can one of you drive me too best buy?”

“Sure! What do you need at best buy?” Luke was quick to agree, wanting to spend more time with his little sister, Jack looked at Stella curious on what she needed at best buy, he was about to open his mouth to offer to give her his card, but she was already talking. “Oh! I need to get a ring light, i left mine at home.”

“Why do you need a ring light?” Jack askes with a confused frown. Stella had to stop her lips from curling up into a smile at the genuine confusion, oh her poor brothers have no idea what they're getting into. Stella gave her brothers a smile and tries her best to sound as calm as she could as she speaks “Oh i need one to film my new only fans video and i left mine at home.”

Stella bit her lip and turned to face the counter, pretending to do things, knowing that she would not be able to face her brothers without bursting out into laughter. The camera perfectly got both of her brothers' reactions. Luke choked on his cereal in shock and started coughing. Jack dropped his spoon in his bowl as his body went still in shock as he looked at the back of his little sister's head.

“What did you just say?” Jack asked his sister, hoping that he and Luke heard wrong. There was no way she was serious ⸺ she couldn't be. Stella let out a quiet breath and tried to collect herself before turning around to face her brothers. She turned back around to face her brothers, holding everything in so she wouldn't laugh, she gives them a smile pretending to be unbothered “I need to get a ring light so i can film my on⸺”

“We heard you!” Luke quickly cut Stella off after catching his breath from his fit of coughs, he shook his head in disgust he did not want to hear his sister repeat it. Jack looks at his sister in fear and shakes his head no, repeatedly muttering no under his breath. Poor boy was stressed. “Stella, you can't be serious! You can't have only fans” Jack nearly shouted as he placed both of his hands on the island counter.

“And you sure as hell can't film your . . . your videos in our guest bedroom” Luke scoffs his face twisted in disgust, he did not need to know this about his sister, and he did not need to think of what she could be doing in their guest bedroom. “Gross” Jack whined in disgust at his younger brother's words.

“Why not I really need the money” Stella did her best to frown, giving her brothers her puppy eyes that she knew always worked in her favor, but this time it was different, they were not going to fall for it. Jack's eyes nearly pop out of his sockets at his sister's revelation, she was doing this because she needed money? He quickly reached into his pocket for his wallet while Luke questioned her in shock “Money? Your doing this for money?”

“Obviously” stella giggled with a shrug of her shoulder, gently biting her lip to hold in her laughter when she sees Luke hold his head in his hands and jack hold out his wallet for her “Here take my wallet, buy whatever you want as long as you delete your account.”

“Awee you're going to buy my ring light for me?” Stella playfully cooed as she reached for the wallet, very much enjoying messing with her brothers. Luke's eyes widen and he quickly snatches Jack's wallet before she could grab it, over his dead body. Luke scoffs at the audacity “Neither of us are going to sponsor your bad decisions.”

“Oh, trust me i don't need any more sponsors” stella stated as she tried her best to sound innocent and oblivious. Luke's mouth dropped in shock and Stella was sure she was going to see steam coming out of Jack's ears any second now. Jack pulled his phone out of his pocket with a mission “Thats it I'm calling Quinn, he can talk some sense into your delusional ass self.”

Stella’s eyes widen and she quickly grabs jacks' phone out of his hands before he could get the chance to call their eldest brother, she also wanted to pull this prank on Quinn when she comes to visit, and she wasn't going to have them ruin that even though she wasn't really looking forward to it. Stella quickly shouted when she noticed the two heated stares from her brothers “Wait! Wait! It's just a prank!”

Neither of her brothers believed her until she broke out into a fit of giggles and turned around to grab her phone, lifting it up and showing them that they were being filmed. A loud laugh leaves her lips at the sight of her brother's reaction to her phone. Both of their shoulders sag in relief and Jack drops his head onto the island counter and lets out a loud groan of annoyance, while Luke just crosses his arms and glares at his sister. Yes, he was relieved that it was all fake, but his heart was almost beating out of his chest from the stress she just put him through.

Stella gives the camera a small smile before stopping it, she slides it into her pocket and clears her throat and gives both of her brothers an awkward smile. She could tell that they both were a little upset from the prank. Stella tries her best to sound enthusiastic as she asks her two now grumpy brothers “Who wants to help me plan out the same prank for quinny!”

Now that got a smile on both of their lips . . .

Now Stella was way more nervous to pull the prank on quinn than she was with Jack and Luke. Quinn was different. She knew it was just a prank, but she was still scared to see Quinn’s reaction. She was honestly going to blow the whole prank off, but she was starting to get annoyed by the many texts from an impatient Jack asking her if she's done it yet. Not only was she nervous to do it, but there was also just not a good time for her to do it yet.

She has been busy almost every day, going out with her brother almost every day, Elias and Brock joining them. She was having a great time, so she really didn't want to ruin it by pranking her older brother by making him believe she was starting an only fans account. But she said she would, and Stella doesn't go back on her word. Ever.

Stella quickly glanced at her brother who was focusing on the video game he was playing on the living room tv. They were spending the day inside, neither of them wanting to go out during the hot day. Stella discretely sets up her phone against a pillow next to her, her phone getting a good view of both of the siblings who're sitting next to each other.

Stella lets out a nervous sigh before quickly starting the video and leans back on the couch, letting her phone get a great view of both of their side profiles. Quinn was leaning forward with his arms on his knees and a controller in his hand. Stella sat Criss cross on the couch and tilted her head to look at quinn as she spoke “Quinn i have to tell you something.”

“Hmm yeah, what is it?” Quinn quickly glanced back and forth from his sister and the tv a few times before settling his gaze back on the tv. Stella nervously bit her lip for a second, quickly glancing at the camera before looking back at her brother. She spoke calmly “I think I'm going to start an only fans.”

Quinn physically recoiled in shock at his sister's words, and the both of them were surprised that his neck didn't snap with how fast it turned to her. The controller dropped out of his hand and hit the rug covered floor. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, not believing the words coming out of his sister's mouth “Excuse me?”

“I’m thinking of ⸺ “

“Why the fuck are you thinking about that?” Quinn asked in a sharp tone as he fully twisted his body to face her. Stella felt her lips twitch up at how high his tone got; it always did when he was upset. Stella pursed her lips before she could smile and ruin the prank, she continued to speak calmly “A lot of people have asked me ⸺ “

“Who the fuck is asking you that?” Quinn questioned stella, his tone angry as he thought of people trying to convince his little sister to start an account, fucking perves his hissed in his mind. No! Quinn was not going to let this happen. She must not be thinking straight, he continued to think.

“You’d be surprised, apparently I'd make a lot of money!” Stella pretends to be excited at the thought, even giving Quinn a smile. Oh, he's so going to kill me, Stella thought to herself as she watched her brother's concerned expression turn into anger. Quinn shook his head in disbelief, bringing his hand up to rub at his temples as he closed his eyes, a sigh of stress leaving his lips before he opened his eyes and looked back at his sister.

“Estella, you are 19 years old! You should still be playing with your barbies or somethin!”

“The minimum age is eighteen . . . I’ve been researching it” Stella hummed as she nodded, biting her lip to stop herself from giggling at the dramatic exhale he let out.

“Oh, is that right” quinn muttered sarcastically under his breath, he didn't know how to approach the situation. He definitely did not agree with the idea of Stella doing that, but he also didn't want her to feel like he was judging her or was disappointed in her . . . but he knew it was a little late for that from his reaction. Quinn let out another sigh before speaking much more calmly “Stella . . . is this really something you want to do?”

“I think so” she mumbled, starting to feel bad from how stressed he looked.

“Well, I um . . . all I ask is that you really think about it okay?” Quinn spoke softly as he reached for Stella's hand, softly squeezing it. Yes, he wanted to forbid her from doing it, but he also didn't want to take her choice away from her, she had to make the choice herself, and he didn't want her to feel embarrassed to talk about things with him. He continued to speak as he locked eyes with Stella “This is a big decision, you know. Once things go on the internet, they never come off. Just really think if this is what you want to do.”

Stella internally awes at Quinn's words, his initial reaction showed that he did not agree and was not happy with her words, but he calmed down and gave her a mature and sweet response. Quinn lets out a surprised “Oh!” when he feels Stella lunges towards him, wrapping her arms around his shoulder for a hug. Quinn is confused for a second, but he quickly returns the hug. Stella squeezes her eyes shut and speaks loud enough for her phone to pick it up “It's just a prank.”

“What!?” Quinn exclaims as she pulls back from the hug, a giggle leaving Stella's lips at the confused look Quinn gives her. “It's just a prank quinny” Stella gets out between her loud laughter, her head tilting back against the couch. Quinn let out a heavy sigh, his body still tense even with the confession of it being a prank, he had to make sure “So you're not going to make an only fans?”

“No, I'm not, don't worry!” Stella continues to giggle, her laughter only getting louder when Quinn lets himself lean back on the couch, his hand resting over his fast-beating heart. Quinn shuts his eyes and lets himself calm down, his body relaxing. “Oh, thank god!”

“Why would you do that stella! Are you trying to kill me?” Quinn quickly shouts as he sits back up, many questions running through his mind. Who gave her the idea to do this? Why would she do this? And do you think I can guilt trip her into cooking dinner?

“It was Jack's idea!” Stella was quick to throw her brother under the bus, quickly reaching to grab her phone to pause the video before it got too long. Quinn's eyes widen, and a look of betrayal comes across his face at the fact that she videotaped the whole thing. The last thing the camera gets is a shocked Quinn looking over a giggling Stella's shoulder.

Stella tilts her head to look at her brother who got really quiet, her eyes widening at the glare he was giving her. She noticed a familiar look of mischief in his eyes, and she quickly got up from the couch and rushed down the hallway to hide in the guestroom, just as she closed the door, she heard the sound of his loud footsteps and the sound of him shouting.

“Estella!”

stellahughes has just posted a TikTok!

[caption: do you guys think jacks gonna be mad i blamed him? ]

username1 is Luke okay? I thought he was going to pass out from how hard he was coughing

username2 I- the way she blamed Jack. I can’t 😭

username3 they were stressing omg!

username4 the protective glare Quinn gave Stella when she said people were asking for it 🤭

username5 stella sweetie, are you okay?

Stellahughes no, I’m hiding from Quinn in the closet 🫤

Qhughes Hmm good to know

username5 did I just get Stella Hughes killed 😳

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