#luke alvez x reader imagine

[thelukesalvez]

Luke Alvez x Reader: Concussed

Request: do you think you could do some type of situation with luke where he has to clean a cut on your forehead or something? like that cute awkward moment 😭 (i hope this makes sense)

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: blood mention

A/N: Plsssss I miss him sm, enjoy!!

Every single day, you fought actual, literal bad guys for a living. The worst of the worst– the kind local police needed help handling. You drew your weapon more than you could keep track of and chased unsubs down the street at least once a month. 

And yet, it was the bird feeder that did you in. 

To be fair– you figured technically, it was the ladder that you were standing on in a feeble attempt to hang the bird feeder that was the real culprit. But as you sat in the grass with a bruised ass and ego, you figured the details weren’t really that important. 

Once the initial shock from the whole ordeal wore off, you slowly started to stand up– emphasis on the slowly. Because it became inherently clear as soon as you tried to move that you’d been hit in the head harder than you initially thought. 

“Fuck,” you hissed as soon as your fingers grazed the sensitive spot on your forehead. When you pulled your hand away, you were horrified to see the thick, crimson liquid coating your fingers. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you winced, bracing your hands on your knees while you stood the rest of the way up. 

“You try to do something nice… like feed the fucking birds, and look what happens,” you muttered to the universe. “You fall on your ass and get concussed by a goddamn bird feeder.”

A concussion would definitely help explain the absurd amount of talking you were doing to absolutely nobody. 

With what little dignity you had left (which was practically zero) you picked up the smashed bird feeder from the ground and trudged across the lawn towards the open garage door. After setting it down near the overflowing trash bin, you dragged your feet the rest of the way inside. 

You made it about two feet before you heard a knock coming from the front door.

Frowning, you wondered who the hell would be knocking at your door at 11 o’clock on a Sunday morning. Your curiosity made you forget all about your almost-certain concussion, as you slid across the kitchen towards where the knocking continued. Because you weren’t a total idiot (bird feeder to the forehead aside) you peaked through the curtains cautiously, hoping to catch a glimpse of your visitor. Everything inside of you loosened the moment you laid eyes on Luke– the newest member of your team and your neighbor only four houses down (which you’d learned from a brief conversation with him only days ago). 

He was dressed in a plain, gray T-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, his muscular calves on full display. You watched for only a moment longer, trying to control the butterflies suddenly flying rampant through your stomach. Luke had only been a part of the team for a couple weeks, but you were already learning that he had this sort of effect on you. Something about his smile– or the way he laughed, or the way he told the funniest jokes, and always knew what to say when someone was having a tough day– or the way he so obviously cared about the people you helped and was always so empathetic… Come to think about it, you adored just about everything about Luke. 

Before he could catch you gawking over him through the window like an absolute lunatic, you snapped the blinds closed and made your way to the front door. As soon as you swung it open, you were faced with arguably the most handsome man you’d ever met. 

“Luke, hi!” you greeted happily.

But his face went from excited to horrified to angry in the blink of an eye.

“Y/N, what the hell?

His beautiful, warm eyes went dark as they swept over the length of you. And that was the moment you remembered what you currently looked like–

With all the excitement of seeing Luke, you had totally forgotten that you’d fallen off a ladder and mauled by a bird feeder only moments ago. 

His shock quickly turned to anger as he took a step forward, so that he was standing right in front of you. “Who did this?” he asked, his tone solid and protective. His hand hovered near your jaw but didn’t quite touch you. 

“What?” you shook your head, and winced as soon as you did. “No–”

“Y/N, who did this to you?” 

“No one–” you said quickly. “I mean– I did. Not on purpose–” you clarified. “I fell.”

“You fell?” he asked in disbelief, his tone softening just the slightest bit. 

You nodded. “I was trying to hang the bird feeder, but the ladder slipped on the leaves on the lawn. It was stupid–”

“Jesus,” Luke winced as his fingers ghosted along the edge of your jaw. You couldn’t help the sudden, sharp inhale through your lips the second that you felt his touch graze your skin. “I could’ve helped you with that, you know. Why didn’t you ask–”

“Because I didn’t think bird suet would be the death of me today,” you admitted feebly. You hoped the dirt and blood from your fall was at least hiding the blush creeping up your neck and cheeks.

A soft chuckle escaped Luke’s lips, but the look of concern remained. 

“That’s a pretty nasty cut,” he said. “Let me help you clean it up.”

“Oh that’s okay,” you waved him away. “You don’t have to do that–”

“Did you even notice that you had blood all over your collar?” he asked, nodding slightly. 

You look down quickly and groan as soon as you see that your beige pullover was stained in a dark shade of crimson. 

“I think you’re probably a little concussed,” he added. “At least let me make sure you’re not dealing with anything worse. I used to help the medic sometimes in the field. Plus– I brought homemade muffins.” 

Your eyes widened at the sight of the plastic container being raised in Luke’s other hand. “You brought baked goods?”

“Muffins– yes.”

A wave of emotions washed over you. You didn’t have the best dating history– there was the guy who kept you a secret from his entire family (wife that you had no idea about included), then there was the guy who would cancel all your dates to spend time playing video games with his friends. And how could you forget about the guy who would conveniently “forget” his wallet every time you went out. 

And now here you were– standing in front of a man you’d known for only a couple of weeks and he was bringing you homemade muffins. 

“I–” you stammered. “I don’t– I can’t–”

“Woah,” Luke said, taking another step forward. “Maybe you should sit down. I think you’re more concussed than we thought.”

You shook your head. “I’m not concussed. Or… I probably am. But I mean, I’m just shocked–” you admitted. “No one’s ever done something like this before.”

“You said pumpkin muffins reminded you of home– and then you said later that day that you were feeling homesick. So–” his voice trailed off. You thought you might have detected a hint of embarrassment in his tone. 

Your eyes widened even more. 

“This is making me sound way creepier than I am–” Luke stammered. “I just… I was baking anyway, and I had a can of pumpkin just lying around... I didn’t go out of my way or anything in a weird way…”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you said, meaning it. “Seriously, Luke. Thank you. I don’t… I don’t know how to repay you.”

“How about letting me help clean that cut up?” he asked, throwing you a cheeky grin. 

The corner of your mouth curled into a smile. “Fine,” you agreed, finally stepping back to let him inside. After closing the door, you turned to find him setting the plastic container down on the counter. 

“Where’s your first aid kit?” he asked. 

“Uh, under the sink in the bathroom,” you said, still convinced you hadn’t processed any of this yet. 

“And the bathroom is…” his voice trailed off. 

“Oh–” Luke looked so damn natural standing in your kitchen, you forgot he’d never actually been here before. “Down the hall, last door on the left.”

“Got it. Be right back.” With that, Luke was taking his uncharacteristically long strides down your hall before disappearing in the bathroom. 

For the first time since answering the door, you raised your hand and touched your temple. Wet liquid still coated your forehead, despite how much time had passed since the accident. Maybe it was a good thing you were agreeing to let Luke help. 

He was back in an instant, holding a damp washcloth and the small first aid kit you’d ordered online months ago, but hoping to never use. 

“In here,” he nodded towards the kitchen. “The lighting’s better.”

You nodded, realizing he really didn’t have to explain. You and your concussed brain would follow him just about anywhere. Your eyes really widened when he patted the counter, indicating that he wanted you to sit on it. 

You didn’t even question his logic though. Instead, you swiftly slipped onto the lip of the granite counter and waited aimlessly while Luke fished around your first aid kit for what he needed. You were level with him now, your gaze trailing down the length of his thick, muscular body. You studied the lines and curves of his skin better. You noticed every crease– every laugh line, every freckle. God, was he always this beautiful? 

Out of nowhere a smirk spread across his lips. “You’re staring.”

Blinking harshly, you tilted your head towards the ceiling, the bright light hitting your eyes and making you wince. “Fuck,” you grunted, dropping your head and squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Shit, you okay?” he asked carefully, dropping the kit to cup your cheek carefully. You felt the pressure on your neck ease as you allowed yourself to lean into his touch. 

Carefully you opened your eyes and nodded. “Yeah– just the light.”

“You’re definitely concussed,” he stated, eyes traveling from yours to the cut on your forehead. “Did you hurt anything else besides your forehead?”

“Is the gash not enough?” you asked dryly, missing the feeling of his touch the moment he moved his hand. 

Luke chuckled. “Oh, the gash is plenty. Just checking, though. Here–” you felt his touch against your face again. This time, his fingers grazed along your chin, tipping it slightly. “Can you lift just a bit for me?”

You nodded and moved your head in the direction he gestured. “'Atta girl,” he said, your stomach churning at his praise. You felt him press the washcloth to your temple gently, swiping up dried blood. As he neared the actual wound, you found yourself tensing up. But when you gripped the sleeve of his T-shirt, Luke didn’t even mention it. Instead he traced his thumb up and down your jaw soothingly and whispered reassurances. “I’m sorry, I know, I know–”

“It’s okay,” you said through gritted teeth. “It’s my own stupid fault. Too bad you didn’t show up just a few minutes earlier, you might have actually gotten to see the show.”

“So remind me again how this happened– you fell off a ladder?”

“Well, sort of,” you explained. “I was trying to hang my bird feeder– on the tall branch. But the ladder slipped on the leaves, which I’ve been meaning to rake for weeks now… and when I fell the bird feeder sort of fell too… on my head.”

You dared to steal a glance towards Luke. The second you did, you noticed him biting back a smile. 

“You can laugh,” you said defeatedly. “It’s completely ridiculous. A little stupid, too.”

“It’s not stupid,” he said, composing himself. 

“We took down a six foot unsub last week,” you reminded him. “Yet the bird feeder is what does me in.”

“Well… when you put it that way,” Luke smirked. 

“If anyone at work asks, you have to lie for me,” you pleaded. “Tell them it was something heroic.”

“I’ll tell them you saved a baby bird from a tree. Instead of letting it fall to its death, you broke the fall with your forehead.”

“That makes me sound so noble,” you laughed. 

“Get ready,” Luke warned as he dabbed some alcohol on a gauze pad. 

“Shit,” you muttered, trying to brace yourself, not even thinking as you moved to grip his bicep. 

“Squeeze as hard as you need,” he said softly. “Ready?” 

You weren’t. But you nodded anyway. 

The stinging sensation ripped through you, causing an onslaught of swear words to escape your lips. You gripped Luke’s arm desperately, your fingers digging into his skin. If you weren’t completely consumed by pain, you would’ve noticed how strong his muscles felt beneath your touch. 

“Almost done,” he murmured, dabbing a few more spots before finally setting down the gauze. “There. Breathe.”

You nodded, your eyes still snapped shut as you attempted to inhale and exhale.

“Good job,” he soothed. When you opened your eyes, your breath hitched when you noticed how close Luke’s face was to yours. 

His jaw tensed, shadows dancing across his face, and you immediately wished you could lean forward and just kiss that look of concern right off from his lips. Your eyes lingered on them for a beat too long– because you heard Luke clear his throat and tilt his head back. 

Embarrassed, you looked down at your hands folded in your lap. 

“Last step,” he said quietly, pulling a large bandaid and some antibiotic cream from the first aid kit. 

You nodded, shaking yourself out of the desire before holding your head up to give him better access to your cut. Carefully, Luke placed the cream and bandage over your cut. “There,” he murmured softly. 

His hand shifted on its own accord, fingers moving to brush loose strands of hair that had fallen into your face, before traveling down the length of your jaw, chin and neck. 

God, he really was beautiful. 

Luke smirked. “Thanks.”

“What?” you whispered. 

“I think you’re beautiful, too.”

Oh, shit. Had you really said that out loud? And was that the concussion speaking or just this intense, surreal intoxication you felt for Luke?

Involuntarily, you sucked in a breath, and then you did something you knew you wouldn’t have been brave enough to do unless you really were concussed– you leaned forward and pressed your mouth against Luke’s without a second thought. It was a soft brush at first, testing to see if he wanted to pull away. When he didn't, you slid forward on the counter and wound your arms around his neck. 

Luke’s other hand, the one that wasn’t cupping your face like he was afraid you’d break, landed on your hip. His fingers dug into your side as he pulled you closer to him. Your body fit against his like it was made for kissing him. 

Your hands found their way to the nape of his neck, where you twisted your fingers amongst his curls. He moaned in approval, and you smiled into the kiss–  into him, and it was nearly devastating when he pulled away and didn't smile back. 

And then Luke was sinking his teeth into his bottom lip and taking a step back. “You’re concussed,” he said. “I’m sorry, this can’t happen– you’re… not in the right state of mind.”

Embarrassed, you slid off from the counter and wiped your mouth with your sleeve. “I’m sorry–” you stammered. “I didn’t realize you didn’t want to–”

Before you could slip past Luke– to run or hide or whatever the hell you could think to do– he shook his head and gently placed his hand on your hip, guiding you until your back collided with the counter. “I want to,” he said clearly, lowering his forehead so that it was pressed against yours. “God knows I’ve wanted to since the day I met you.”

It took a minute for his words to find meaning in your own brain. But as soon as they did, you looked up at him hopefully, your eyes widening. “Really?”

“Fuck, yes,” he rasped, his thumb wiping a tear you hadn’t even realized was falling. “Are you kidding me? I don’t just bring pumpkin muffins to anyone… That was my attempt at making a move.”

“Instead I got clocked with a bird feeder before throwing myself at you,” you groaned. You leaned forward and rested the non-injured side of your head against Luke’s chest. 

“If I didn’t think you had a pretty severe concussion, I would more than welcome you throwing yourself at me,” Luke assured you.

You scoffed. “The concussion may have given me the courage to throw myself at you, but I’ve been wanting to do it way longer.”

You felt his chuckle vibrate beneath you. “I’ll tell you what…” he began, his hand sprawling out against your back. “You still want me after you’re not concussed, and you won’t have to throw yourself at me ever again.”

A shiver ran down your spine– your body thrilled with the idea. “Deal.”

“In the meantime, how about I hangout here? Make sure no more bird feeders fall on your head.”

You smiled against his chest, unable to contain the feelings he elicited inside of you. “I’d like that,” you admitted. 

[prentissluvr]

closer, and closer still — luke alvez

pairing : luke alvez x bau!gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : fluff ➖⟢ cw : situation that could cause claustrophobia (very crowded elevator), kissing ➖⟢ wc : 2K

it's natural to get in the elevator with luke. you've done it a million times, just the two of you or with other members of the team. tonight it's because you both stayed late to finish your reports; everyone else left before you besides emily, who's, as she often is, still in her office. there's not much conversation between the two of you tonight, both tired after a long day and an even longer case. but still, it's comfortable—once again, natural.

what's not natural is the amount of workers who pile into the small space the floor below yours. you do your best to ignore the way heat begins to rise into your cheeks when he immediately steps in front of you, trying to casually block you off from anyone else because he knows that you’d hate being squished against any strangers in such a cramped space. he's quite close, only inches away, and he sends you that crooked smile he has when he's trying to make an annoying situation seem at least a little humorous. and that's just fine, even though it sends your heart into a fluttering mess. until one more stubborn person decides that there's got to be room for them, and luke gets pushed right into you.

one of his hands braces himself on the wall beside you, the other right on your shoulder. normally, you'd laugh at his surprised expression, but his body flush against yours seems to have you malfunctioning.

"jeez," he mutters under his breath, the scoff only audible to you over the noise of the man who thinks it's a great idea to have a loud conversation over the phone right now. the look he gives you is apologetic as he goes to remove his hand from your shoulder, but he's caught in such an awkward position that he can't move it more than a few inches away from you. and he's so worried about making you uncomfortable with too much physical contact that he just lets his hand hover there.

that's when you let out a quiet laugh, one that only he can hear.

you just can’t help it, with the cautious look on his face and the well-meaning, but awkward action of trying not to touch you, as if the rest of his body weren’t pressed against yours.

he raises his eyebrows, confused by your laughter.

“what’s that about?” the fact that so many people are around to hear compels him to speak in a hushed tone.

“i don’t mind,” you say, doing your best to look him in the eye as you tell him. he just cocks his head to the side a bit, telling you he doesn’t want to assume what you mean by that. so, you plunder on. “you don’t have to keep your hand like that. i don’t mind when you touch me.” when those words escape your mouth, you have to admit, that’s not how you meant to say it, but the way that a smile tugs at his lips makes it feel worth it.

“right,” he nods. he still seems careful when he lets his hand rest against your shoulder again, and the weight of it causes your eyes to dart away from his face.

neither of you can find anything else to say for the remainder of the elevator ride, but it’s not the end of the world considering that it only lasts for another thirty seconds. though, admittedly, it feels a bit more like an eternity to you. 

when the doors open to the garage level, and people file out of the cramped area, there’s finally space for him to step away from you. but your heart flutters at the fact that there’s no rush on his part. his hand slips away from you, and he takes a step backwards before turning his body around. he lingers at the doors to keep them open, motioning for you to go first.

“after you,” he smiles, ever the gentleman despite his habit of constant teasing. you hope he catches the quick smile you send him as you whisk past him and into the parking garage. he’s back at your side in a second, walking with you in the direction of your car. 

“hey, uh,” he stops you when you’re only halfway there, saying your name in a way that feels too nice. “can i take you home?”

you resist a grin. “if you’ll pick me up in the morning. there’s no way in hell i’m taking public transport if you’re making me leave my car here.”

he doesn’t bother hiding his own grin, “deal.” there’s a pause before he realizes that, of course, you’re standing in the middle of a parking lot, and you don’t know where his car is. “my car’s this way,” he clarifies, pointing with his thumb to the opposite side of the garage.

“making me work for it, huh?” you tease. he chuckles, resisting the sudden urge he has to slip his arm around your shoulders and pull you into his side. he wants you close, and closer still, he realizes.

“don’t forget i’m the one who’s gotta do all the driving.”

“oh, poor, poor luke. the guy’s offered to drive me and now he’s complaining about it!” making fun of him is just too easy. you love the way it always makes him smile.

“couldn’t complain about spending more time with you.”

now that throws you off. it stops you in your tracks for just a moment as you finally reach the passenger’s side of his car and he loops around to get in the driver’s seat.

“you getting in or not?” he calls. trying to pretend he hasn’t flustered you at all, you pop the door open and climb inside.

once you’re in and buckled, you peek at him subtly as he starts the car. “thank you for driving me home, luke.”

“of course. it’s my pleasure,” he smiles genuinely before backing his car out of the parking lot. it’s confirmed; he looks very hot doing that. once you’re out of the parking lot, you both immediately notice the rain falling from the sky.

“i didn’t know it was supposed to rain tonight,” you comment, “though that’s not too much of a surprise here, of course.”

he lets out a light laugh, “yeah, i didn’t know either. i’m just glad it’s not rush hour any more.”

“god, tell me about it. the only good thing to come out of staying late to do paperwork is avoiding the traffic.”

his response isn’t quite what you expect, not just a generic phrase signalling he finds your statement relatable. “i can think of something else good to come out of that.” his tone is full of implications. you don’t want to assume what he means by that, but you can certainly hope he’s talking about this.

“really? like what?” it’s always more fun to play along.

“well,” he begins. you adore that he never tries to hide the smile in his expressions from you, even if that means he’s kind of giving himself away. it just feels like you’re the one making him smile like that, and that’s one hell of a compliment purely because of how pretty his smile is. “staying late doing paperwork meant that i could take the elevator with you, walk with you, and drive you home. bonus, i get to pick you up in the morning too. that’s some pretty good stuff, if you ask me.”

at that, your face is far more flushed with heat than just five minutes ago when he was stuck right against you in the elevator. and that’s saying a whole lot, considering the fact that you were afraid he’d be able to tell just how flustered you were from your body heat alone. he says it all in a way that no coworker, not even friend, would, and you want to run with it until he’s kissing you goodnight at your doorstep, then beyond. issue is, you can’t think of something good enough to say to let him know that’s what you want. you hope it’s not too bold, but all you can think of to do is tell him just that.

“would it maybe… be a good thing too… if i, um, if i asked you to kiss me goodnight when you, like the gentleman i know you are, walk me to my door?” when those words come out of your mouth and his eyes dart back and forth from you and the road, you realize that’s probably not the best thing to ask while he’s in the middle of driving. but like always, the grin on his face makes it completely worth it.

“that would be amazing,” he says unabashedly, timing his words perfectly with a pause at a stop sign so he can look you in the eyes while he says it. he has just enough time to catch the grin on your face to match his. it seems you’re both too giddy to say anything else for the next few seconds, but he breaks quickly, turning on his turn signal to pull off to the side of the road. “dammit, i don’t think i can wait,” he explains as he pulls the car completely out of traffic’s way, “can i please kiss you now?” he turns to you with every pure intent in his eyes and words. you almost giggle at his desperation, but it makes you feel far too excited, nervous, and wanted even for you to do anything but nod in approval.

“please,” you want him to know you need it just as badly as him. so, in an instant, you’re both leaning in over the middle console to feel the other’s lips on yours. his hand’s on the side of your face and you can’t help but hold onto his arm as if you’ll melt away without his strong frame to ground you there. and there’s his lips, his goddamn perfect lips that jj caught you staring at the other day, the ones that now mold against yours, all soft and needy at the same time. he savors you like there’s nothing quite as divine as your, like he’s been waiting and waiting to have you. to be fair, he has for months at this point. all that he cares about now, though, is that you want him too.

when he finally pulls away, he only does so enough to rest his forehead against yours and look you in the eyes with the most endeared gaze he can muster. he doesn’t let his hand fall away from your face, happily recalling the way you told him that you don’t mind when he touches you. seems like maybe you even like it, were he to flatter himself. of course, you’re thinking about how you absolutely adore his touch, how it already feels like you could never get enough.

“i don’t know how i’m gonna get you all the way home like this,” he half-jokes through a smile before fully moving away to resume the drive. but first, he takes your hand in his and gives it a squeeze, then a heart-fluttering kiss to the knuckles.

the smile you return to him is a bit sly, though he can’t see it as he pulls back into the lanes of traffic. “well, your place is closer, is it not?" you begin carefully, "you won’t even have to pick me up in the morning that way.” you're a bit scared to intrude by inviting yourself over, but the expression on his face makes it clear that you are more than welcome.

“gosh,” he laughs in surprise, clearly pleased by your proposition, “you are very right. roxy will be excited to see you.” and he's very, very excited to keep kissing you.

[babyjackdaniels]

[natti-ice]

18+ mdni

A little Imagine:

“You’re such a good girl, letting me play with your pretty little pussy” he praises as he’s three fingers deep inside you, stretching you out completely as you whimper and squirm across the soaked sheets. “Gonna cum again for me?”

[forhappysake]

Teach Me

A/N: This is my first smut and it is LONG. Sorry y'all, I love a plot. Also, not totally proofread, xoxo.

Warnings: SMUT, professor!reidxreader, implied age gap, mentions of dementia, loss of virginity, bl0wjob, protected sex, use of nicknames (good girl), sub!reader/dom!spencer if you squint

The fact that you’d managed to get into Dr. Reid’s criminology class was an absolute stroke of luck on your part. You’d stayed up until midnight, eagerly waiting for your round of registration to unlock, and you’d immediately submitted your requests and refreshed the page until you got confirmation. You were elated. You had read so much about the young doctor, only in his mid-30s, who had multiple doctorates and over a decade of FBI experience. You were fully aware that taking his class would elevate your resume, not to mention that he was quite easy on the eyes.

Of course, that last part was just the consensus around campus. He polled “hottest professor” on social media every year since he’d arrived. You stared at his professor profile on the university’s website. The picture was undoubtedly a couple of years old, with brown curls atop his head and a cleanly shaven face. However, you’d heard from lots of the older majors that he’d aged like fine wine. With that in mind, you shut your computer before crawling into bed for the night. This semester can not end fast enough, you thought. 

*Seven weeks later*

Returning from Christmas break was never easy, but knowing you were going into Dr. Reid’s class made things that much easier. It was your last class of the day, from 3:00 - 4:15, and you knew you’d soak up every minute of it. Though after surviving two other earlier classes and multiple rounds of icebreakers with your new classmates, you were starting to lose your initial excitement at what Dr. Reid’s course may hold.

You walked into the lecture hall, noting an empty seat about three rows from the front. Claiming the seat as your own, you pulled out your new notebook and a red pen, scribbling the date and course number at the top of your page. You checked your watch: 2:58. You couldn’t help but tap your foot impatiently as your fellow students filtered into the room.

After a few more moments passed, the side door in the lecture hall opened, and Dr. Reid walked out in front of the room. He didn’t look up at the students, whose murmuring had gone silent the moment he entered. Instead, he turned his back to the group as he wrote his name and the course number on the whiteboard. 

He turned back around, this time scanning the students in the hall before clearing his throat. “Good afternoon, my name is Dr. Reid. I’ll be your professor for this course.” He paced around for a moment before coming to a stop and leaning himself back onto the desk. He looked a bit different from his faculty picture. His brown hair had grown out, allowing you to see more of his curls. His once clean-shaven face had evolved into stubble, and the rings around his eyes looked a bit darker. However, you couldn’t argue, he had aged well. 

“First thing’s first, the university requires that I take roll call for the first three weeks of the course.” You waited for him to fumble around on the computer or take up a piece of paper with all of your names on it. Surprisingly, Dr. Reid began calling out names from memory without picking up a roster. “Riley Anderson?” 

“Here,” a light-haired boy in the back of the class said, waving his hand. 

The back and forth of Dr. Reid calling names and students replying went on for another minute before he came to your name, “Y/N Y/L/N?”

You raised your hand and offered a small smile, “Here.” He looked up at you and smiled back. As you looked away, you could feel his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he cleared his throat and continued, making quick work of the rest of the roll call before starting the course. 

The first day’s lecture was relatively tame. Nothing too gruesome was discussed, and thankfully the young doctor didn’t make you play any more icebreaker games. Upon class dismissal, a large line of students eager to make nice with their new professor lined up at his desk. Though you had hoped to meet the doctor personally, you didn’t want to wait around after being on campus all day. You quickly gathered your books and shoved them in your backpack before walking up the stairs and leaving the lecture hall. 

As with all semesters, the work began to pile on quickly as you did your best to keep up. Most of your classes began to blend together. However, Dr. Reid’s class was always your first priority. There was something about him that made you feel the urge to make him proud of your work. Maybe it was the way he’d smile thoughtfully as you asked him questions during the lecture or the time he’d made extra office hours for you when you needed help with a paper. It could have even been the morning you’d bumped into him in the campus coffee shop and he’d paid for your drink. As you pondered this, laying in bed the night before your midterm, you couldn’t help but feel a little silly. He did these things for all his students, right? You did your best to quiet your thoughts before forcing yourself to sleep the night before your exam. 

The next morning, you walked through campus with a certain confidence in your step. Though you had never been a great test-taker, you were confident that you were going to do well on Dr. Reid’s midterm. He’d even been so kind as to offer you a study guide, which you had been working through over the last week. You were prepared, but as you approached the lecture hall, you could see that your classmates weren’t feeling so confident. 

A young boy sat by the door, frantically scanning his handwritten notes in a last-minute attempt to memorise information. Several others followed suit.

Dr. Reid came around the corner, exams in hand. “Good morning, Y/N,” he said with a bright smile. “Are you ready for the exam?”

“Born ready, Doc,” you joked, following him into the lecture hall and settling into your seat. Dr. Reid passed out the exams. Just as you suspected, you finished without a hitch. You dropped the paper on his desk and he offered you a small smile as you turned and left the lecture hall. 

You made your way to the library to study for your fifth and final midterm. You chose your typical spot in the corner of the room, hidden behind a large bookshelf. As you settled into study, you put your headphones in. As you dove into your reading, you became oblivious to the world around you. An hour passed, and it was only when you felt a tap on your shoulder that you were pulled from your work. 

You turned to face whoever had tapped you, and you failed to hide your surprise when you were met with the dark eyes of Dr. Reid. “Oh, hey!” you said, trying to be casual as you paused your music and took your headphones off. “What are you doing here?”

He looked down at you from his standing position, offering an awkward shrug. “I’m not sure, really. I guess I just thought I might find you here.” 

You furrowed your brow. “Is something wrong? Did I mess up on the exam?” 

Dr. Reid shook his head, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Goodness, no. You did wonderful. The grade is already in, actually.” “Oh,” you mumbled, smiling a little at his compliment. “Well then, what’s up?”

He stumbled around for a second, working up the confidence to utter his next sentence. “I was wondering if you were free tonight.” 

Your eyebrows raised and you felt your jaw drop a little. Was this happening? “Uh… f-for what?” you asked, trying not to get your hopes up. 

He pulled his hands from his pockets, fiddling with his tie as he shook his head. “Ah, you know, this was silly of me. I should go,” he turned to turn from you, but you reached out and grabbed his hand before he could walk away. 

“For what?” you asked again, ignoring his previous comment. You locked eyes with him, trying to read his expression.

He stood up a little straighter, your obvious interest seemingly bolstering his confidence. “I’ve been working on an article for a journal publication here at the university. I was wondering if you’d be willing to look it over for me,” he said. There was silence for a moment before he added, “I will also be cooking a new pasta recipe I found, and I would like it if you would stay for dinner after that.”

You felt a small smile creeping on your face, but you tried to contain your excitement. However, you could tell from the blush growing on his cheeks that he noticed. “I would love to do that, Dr. Reid. If you could send the address to my personal email, I would be more than happy to be there in-” you looked down at your watch, “roughly an hour.” 

A smile spread over his face, “Great. I’ll do that right away.” He looked around the library for a moment before he seemed to realize where he was, snapping back to reality. “Right, well, I’d better go straighten up my place a bit. I’ll see you soon, Y/N.” With that, Dr. Reid turned from you and headed for the library door. He glanced back at you once, the blush on his cheeks evident as he walked out onto the quad. 

—

After Dr. Reid’s departure from the library, you quickly gathered your things and rushed to the parking lot, making quick work of the drive back to your apartment. You jumped in the shower and rinsed the day off yourself before drying off and standing in front of your closet. 

You examined your clothing choices. This wasn’t a date, was it? Maybe you should go with business casual… or should you choose something a bit more scandalous? Scandalous seemed to be the winning choice. If anything, you could lie and tell him you were going out after leaving his place. He wouldn’t think anything of it, right?

You settled on a shorter black dress that had a low-cut top. It exposed the tops of your breasts in a way that wasn’t wildly distasteful but wasn’t too subtle, either. You decided to skip on the underwear for the evening, the idea of being exposed underneath your dress enough to excite you. You’d never been with a man before, and you figured tonight wouldn’t necessarily be any different. You might as well have some secret fun of your own. 

Checking your watch, you realized you were running short on time. You dashed back out the door to your car. Checking your phone, you saw he’d emailed you as he promised: 

From: Spencer Reid Here’s the address you asked for, along with my apartment number. I look forward to seeing you soon.  -S.R.

You couldn’t help but smile as you entered the address into your car’s GPS before taking off. The fifteen-minute drive felt like an hour as you tried not to let yourself get too nervous. You entered the lobby of his apartment building, catching the elevator to the fourth floor. 

“Apartment 424,” you mumbled to yourself as you stepped off and walked down the aesthetically lit hallway. The carpeted floor was pristine, and the view from the window at the end of the hallway told you that living in this building was not cheap. You shook the thoughts from your head as you reached the last apartment in the hallway, closest to the window. This is it, you thought, don’t fuck it up. 

You knocked twice and stopped to listen for any motion on the inside. You swore you could hear the soft lull of classical music from behind the door, and you suddenly heard footsteps fast approaching. The dark wooden door swung open, unveiling the wild curls of Dr. Reid. “Y/N!” he said, a smile spread wide across his face, “I’m so glad you’re here. Please, come in.” He stepped back from the door, ushering you into the room. 

“Thank you, Dr. Reid.” You stepped inside, examining the room around you. It fit his personality wonderfully. The green paint on the walls was accented by large bookshelves and dark furniture. You smiled when you noticed the lack of a television and instead, a record player sat in front of the sofa. “You have a lovely apartment, Dr. Reid,” you whispered, in awe of the way his personality was infused into the design of the place. 

He furrowed his brow at you, tucking his large hands into his pants pockets once more. He must be nervous. “I appreciate that. But please, call me Spencer.”

“Spencer,” you said, testing how the name felt in your mouth. “I can do that.” He smiled at you before gesturing to the couch, offering you a place to sit. You followed his lead, sitting on the far end of the couch as he perched in the middle. You felt him watching you closely, so you turned to look at him. 

Spencer noticed that you’d caught him staring, so he cleared his throat to diffuse the awkward silence that had fallen over the room. “Here’s that piece I’ve been working on, if you’d still like to look over it.” He leafed through some files on the table before pulling out a thick stack of papers, held together by a large paperclip. 

You took the article from him. “Twenty-seven pages front and back? That’s quite the article, Spencer,” you joked, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 

He blushed sheepishly. “You don’t have to read it all if you don’t want to. I just thought that-” 

You waved your hand, cutting him off. “Of course, I am going to read it all. I’ll get started right away if you want to go work on something else.”

“Actually, I think I’m going to start that recipe I mentioned if you’re still interested in dinner,” he rose from the couch, watching for a sign of your approval. 

You looked away from the papers to smile up at him, “Certainly, thank you.”

As he walked away, you continued scanning the papers he had given you. You weren’t sure why he wanted you to review it, you could find no issues. You let out an audible sigh, which Spencer heard from the kitchen. 

“Are you doing okay?” he asked. 

“Oh, yes! I’m not sure why you wanted me to look over this. It’s flawless,” you said, sounding almost disappointed. 

“I would take that as a compliment if you didn’t sound so let down,” he said jokingly, a nervous tinge in his voice. 

You shook your head, “I feel that I wasn’t much help.” 

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’ve been a great help on this project. In fact, the questions you asked about the behavior of female abusers in class were what got me thinking about this in the first place.”

A blush spread over your face, “Really?”

He smiled, trying not to make it too obvious that he noticed the blush on your cheeks. “Really. You’re easily my best student. Your drive is unmatched, and your work is some of the best undergraduate writing I have ever seen. You should consider graduate school if you aren’t already.”

I shrugged at his words. “I’m trying not to get ahead of myself. We’ll see where life takes me, I reckon.” Spencer nodded before padding back to the kitchen, checking whatever he had put together in the oven. Almost on cue, a kitchen timer dinged, letting him know creation was complete. 

He pulled an oven mitt onto his large hand and pulled the dish out of the oven, setting it carefully on the stovetop before he turned back to you. “If you’d like to come sit at the kitchen table, I’d be happy to serve you.” You did as he requested, picking one of the two seats set at the table. Two glasses of wine were readily poured and thick, black cloth napkins were placed at each chair. You spread the fabric over your lap, noticing the careful vines embroidered along the trim. 

“Are these hand-embroidered?” you asked. 

Spencer nodded, “My mother used to live with me. She enjoys doing that sort of thing. I came back one day and she’d done these floral patterns around the edges.” He held up his cloth, gently tracing his finger along the vines and flowers. 

Despite your evident interest in her handiwork, you couldn’t help but wonder about his mother. “Your mother used to live with you?” you asked. “Where is she now?”

Spencer sighed as he looked down, gently laying his cloth across his lap as you had done moments before. “She stays in a nursing facility where they can give her the attention and care she needs. Between working at the university and consulting on cases for the Bureau, I wasn’t doing enough.” As he looked up at you again, you could hear the implication of his final statement: I wasn’t enough. 

You reached for the hand he’d placed back on the table, gently covering it with your own. “I’m sure you did everything you could for her. I’m certain she knows how much you care for her.” 

He offered you a sad smile, turning his hand up under yours and gently wrapping his fingers around your hand. “Thank you, Y/N.” Spencer trailed off, seeming to zone out for a minute as his eyes glazed over. You gently pulled your hand away from him, bringing him back to reality. 

“Well, uh,” he cleared his throat, rising from the table. “We can’t have dinner without the food, how silly of me.” Spencer gently picked up the dish from the counter, setting it on the table in front of you. You examined the dish of pasta. “May I?” Spencer asked, scooping up a healthy spoonful. 

“Sure, thank you,” you picked up your plate, offering it to him. He placed a large helping of food on your plate along with a piece of bread before passing it back to you. You waited for him to serve himself and get reseated before you took a bite. “Oh my god,” you mumbled. 

Spencer’s eyes shot up from his plate as he dropped his fork on his placemat. “What’s the matter?”

You shook your head, eyes wide in amazement. “This pasta is incredible. Where did you find this recipe?” 

Spencer’s shoulders relaxed and he let out a small laugh of relief. “Oh, I got it from a coworker. He’s a true Italian – cooks this sort of thing all the time.” 

You lifted the glass of wine he’d set out for you earlier. “Cheers to this mysterious coworker and your ability to replicate authentic Italian cuisine.”

He mirrored your movements, and your glasses gently clinked together. You locked eyes with him as you both took sips of your drinks. Something about the moment was wildly intimate and laced with flirtation. 

You forced yourself to look away, examining the cloth on your lap. “So, uh,” you stuttered, “are you looking forward to the end of the semester?”

Spencer took a bite of his pasta, mulling this over for moment. “Well,” he started, “yes and no. How about you?” He looked you over. You wondered if he was trying to profile you based on his careful examination of your body language and facial expressions. 

You chose to shrug, “Yes and no.”

“Why’s that?” he asked. 

“Oh, I’m not sure. There are some classes I’ll miss. Yours, of course.” 

He smiled shyly, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should. I love your class, but it’s really more than that,” you mumbled, refusing to make eye contact as you fiddled with the hem of your dress. 

He quietly rose from the table and approached your side, looking down at you carefully. “Tell me,” he whispered. He leaned down to you, putting a hand under your chin and forcing you to look at him. He placed his large hands on either side of your face, as one of his thumbs gently caressed your cheekbone. “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” he whispered. His dark eyes scanned your own. “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong and we can forget this. We’ll never talk about this again.” 

You swallowed nervously. “You’re not reading this wrong,” you answered quietly. You brought one of your hands up to cover one resting on your face. 

You rose from your seat and he followed suit. He stood several inches taller than you, adding to the strange power dynamic between the two of you. 

He lowered his hands, running them over your shoulders and down your arms until he slipped his hands around your hips, holding you in place in front of him as he looked at you. You could see the way he held himself back from you. He was trying to decide just how far he should go. 

You sighed and reached for him. “I’m not made of glass, you know,” you whispered jokingly, hanging your arms loosely from his neck to pull him a bit closer to you. He complied, leaning over you silently as your words hung in the air between you. 

“This entire situation is delicate,” he said in a serious tone. “I just don’t want to overstep.” 

“Spencer,” you laughed. “I’m standing in your apartment, calling you by your first name. Your hands are wrapped around my hips. I’m hanging off your neck. Don’t you think we’ve already overstepped?” 

He considered this for a second, looking around the room. “I suppose. What are you thinking?” he asked genuinely, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. 

“I’m thinking,” you said, pressing your body against his, “that I would love to push some more boundaries with you.” 

As much as he tried to deny it, he found himself giving in to you. Spencer closed his eyes, letting the scent of your perfume flood his senses. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this,” he whispered. 

“Tell me,” you pressed a gentle kiss to his neck. He leaned back, allowing you full access.

“Fuck-” he murmured, “I noticed you from the beginning. You…” His words trailed off into a groan as you gently sucked on his neck. He ran a hand down your body, pressing you against him with a large hand on the small of your back. “You’re always so attentive, so eager to learn.”

You hummed in agreement, continuing to trail your lips up and down his neck. “Is there anything else you can teach me?” you whispered dangerously close to his ear. 

He pulled away, placing a gentle hand around your waist, guiding you into the hallway of his apartment. “Where are we going?” you asked. 

“My bedroom,” he said. His hand tightened around your waist as he reached for the door. 

The two of you stumbled inside, unable to keep your hands off each other. You found yourself falling backwards on his bed as he leaned over you, catching your lips in a kiss once again. You ran your hands through his soft curls and thought of all the times you’d berated yourself for imagining this exact moment. This couldn’t be happening. 

“I’m not going to go easy on you,” he mumbled against your lips. You felt a tinge of anxiety. Was now the time to tell him you really had no idea what you’re doing? He ran his hands up the back of your thighs, lifting the hem of your dress and revealing your lack of underwear to him. “No underwear?” he asked, smile evident on his lips as he leaned over you, leaving your back pressing against his clothed chest. 

You blushed, trying not to let on that you’d secretly been praying for this to happen all evening. Of course, Spencer already knew that. You were putty in his hands. 

He lifted himself off of you, and you rolled over to face him as he stood over you. “Stand up,” he said. You did as you were told, rising in front of him. You stayed still as he circled you a moment, almost as if you were some kind of prey. Spencer found the zipper to your dress. He rested his hand on it for a moment, leaning forward to offer you a soft kiss on the cheek. You took it as his way of asking for your consent, so you nodded, to which he immediately began unzipping the back of your dress. 

The black material fell from your shoulders and soon laid limply at your feet. Spencer let out a quiet moan as he turned you around to face him. You were completely bare before him. “My god, Y/N,” he mumbled. 

His lips attacked yours as he pushed you back on to the bed, your dress forgotten on the floor as his hands explored your body. He placed both his hands around your breasts, squeezing them gently as he began kissing down your neck. Spencer’s descent down your body continued with the utmost purpose, as you saw him lowering himself off the bed and down on to his knees in front of you. 

“W-what are you doing?” you asked nervously. 

Spencer looked up from your body to meet your eyes. “I want to taste you,” he said, matter of factly. 

As hot as the statement was, you couldn’t overcome the insecurity and anxiety that had seeped into your mind. In one flash, the confession fell from your lips. “I’ve never done this before,” you whispered, voice barely audible. 

Spencer stopped immediately, completely removing his gaze from your naked figure to focus on your face. He rose from his knees and sat himself on the edge of his bed. “You’ve never had sex before?” Spencer asked gently, looking you in the eyes the entire time. 

You nodded, suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable in front of him. “I probably should have disclosed that sooner. I’m sorry, I know it’s a major turn off,” you started to sit up, reaching for your dress on the floor. As you did, Spencer grabbed your wrist, forcing you to stop and look at him. 

“Quite the opposite, actually,” he said. 

You furrowed your brow at him. “Really?” 

He cupped your face with his hands, gently tracing the edge of your jaw with his thumbs. “I know our situation isn’t the most conventional, but if you let me, I promise I’ll take care of you.”

You bit your lip in anticipation. “Okay,” you nodded. 

“Okay,” he whispered. “I want you to lay back for me, and I’ll make you feel good.”

You couldn’t help but trust him as you laid back on to the bed. He dropped to his knees once more, running his hands over your thighs before pulling them apart, exposing you to him. Spencer lunged forward, licking an experimental stripe up your slit to gauge your reaction. You’d never felt anything like it before, and you couldn’t help but moan as he continued his movements, focusing his attention on your clit. 

“Spencer,” you groaned. Your hand found its way to his mess of curls, tugging sharply. He moaned into your center, the vibrations nearly sending you over the edge. “I-I’m close,” you whined, continuing to hold the back of his head. 

You heard him speak from between your legs, “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.” Spencer dove back into your core, wrapping his lips around your clit. 

A sudden intrusion caused your legs to jerk, and you realized he’d inserted a finger into you. The mixture of the wonderful pressure he was placing on your bundle of nerves and the new sensation of his finger thrusting inside you sent you over the edge. You came hard, loosing your grip on the back of his head as you did. 

Spencer remained on his knees, lapping up what he could of you release before he rose to meet you on the bed. “You’re such a good girl,” he said, placing a soft kiss on your forehead as he laid next to you. 

You hummed in satisfaction, forcing yourself to open your eyes. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face. You couldn’t help but notice the sinful amount of clothes that were still on his body. You expressed this by tugging gently on his tie, “Why am I the only one who’s naked?” 

Spencer chuckled. “We can fix that,” he said, rising from the bed. He made quick work of his tie, and undid the buttons on his dress shirt as you watched in awe. As Spencer shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, you took in his physique. Though thin and tall, his muscles were pronounced. You noted a few scars scattered about his figure, and wondered if you could get him to tell the stories behind them. His voice brought you out of  your thoughts. “You’re staring,” he said as he slowly undid his belt. 

You shrugged from your position on the bed, “I like what I see.” 

He let out a quiet laugh as he discarded his belt on the floor next to the bed, the hard leather hitting the floor with a loud thunk. Spencer peeled his pants off his legs, neatly folding them and setting them on a dresser next to the door. You couldn’t help but notice the large tent in his boxers, and found yourself wondering what exactly he was hiding under there. 

Before you could stop yourself, you slid off the bed and stood in front of him. He raised an eyebrow at you, indicating his confusion as you dropped to your knees in front of him. “What do you think you’re doing?” he said with a tinge of humor in his voice. 

“Returning the favor,” you said shyly, not wanting to meet his gaze. 

A large hand came to rest gently on your head as he ran his fingers through your hair, “You don’t have to do this, you know. This is about you.”

You shook your head, finally mustering up the courage to look up at him. “I want to. I want you to teach me,” you whispered. 

That statement was enough to bring an end to his objections. Spencer smiled down at you with a sigh, “Pretty girl. Go ahead.” You smiled happily at the compliment and the permission to continue. You placed a few simple kissed above the hem of his boxers before locking your fingers under the seam and pulling them down completely. Spencer assisted by stepping out of his boxers, and he stood completely bare in front of you. You stared at his figure once more, eyes wide at the sight of him. His length was intimidating, especially for someone as inexperienced as yourself. You were unsure of how to proceed. 

Spencer leant down quietly and took your hand from his thigh, moving it to wrap around the base of his cock. “Now, just move your hand back and forth until you find a rhythm,” he encouraged. Like a student eager to please, you followed his instructions. After a moment he spoke again, “You’re doing so good, pretty girl.” 

You weren’t sure if it was your need to praise him or the flash of unadulterated lust you felt at that moment, but you leaned forward and slid the tip of his dick into your mouth. Spencer looked down at you through hooded eyes, the silent act urging you to continue. You opened your throat the best you could, sliding him further into your mouth until you couldn’t anymore. You wrapped your hand around the rest of him and, in time with the bobs of your head, stroked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. 

“Y/N,” Spencer groaned from above, placing an encouraging hand on the back of your head. He held your hair tightly. “Relax, baby,” he murmured. You slowed your movements so that he could fuck your throat at his own pace. You could tell he was holding himself back for your sake, and your heart swelled at how gentle he was trying to be during such a filthy act. 

You closed your eyes, becoming accustomed to the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat, timing your breaths to the thrust of his hips. Suddenly, you felt the hold on the back of your head let up as Spencer pulled completely out of your mouth. “I’d love to keep doing that,” he said, out of breath, “but there are other places I’d like to finish tonight.” 

You blushed at the implication of his words. He reached a hand out to you, helping you stand up from the ground and pulling you into a passionate kiss. Spencer’s tongue entered your mouth as he moaned into the kiss, hands exploring your figure as he pushed you back towards the bed. You let yourself fall, the soft mattress greeting you as Spencer continued kissing you. 

He reached a hand down between the two of you, taking a hold of one of your thighs and spreading your legs open for him. Spencer pulled away from the kiss, meeting your eyes. “Do you still want to do this?” he asked. 

You nodded. “I want to do this with you, Spencer.”

“You have to be vocal,” he said, continuing to look down at you. “I want you to tell me what you feel and what you need.”  You agreed.  

He kissed you gently once more before guiding his hand in between your legs, pushing a single finger into your opening. Spencer thrusted the digit in and out of you slowly, allowing you to get used to the feeling. “Do you think you can take another one?” he asked quietly. 

You nodded, “Yes.” He gently pulled his fingers out of you, the next intrusion stretching you more than the last. He worked his index and middle fingers in and out of your opening as you moaned under him. 

After another minute, he pulled away from you. “You’re doing so good,” Spencer encouraged. He gave himself a couple quick strokes as he reached over to his side table, pulling a condom out of the drawer. He slid the condom over himself and positioned both your legs on either side of his body, lining himself up with your entrance. “Remember, you have to tell me what you’re feeling. Okay?” 

He rubbed soothing circles on your thigh with one hand as he gently rubbed his cock up and down your folds, collecting your wetness. You whimpered as Spencer pressed his tip into your entrance, body jerking inadvertantly as he continued to enter you. He peppered your collar with kisses as he continued. There was a small tinge of pain which brought tears to the corner of your eyes, but the pleasure was overriding the minor discomfort you felt. After fully entering you, he paused, allowing you to adjust.  

“How does it feel?” he asked. Your eyes, which had been squeezed shut, fluttered open at his voice. 

“Spencer-” you stuttered, “m-move. Please.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling himself back and entering you slowly once again. 

“God, you’re so tight,” he groaned above you. You couldn’t respond, too focused on the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you to begin to form a reply. “I wish you could see yourself right now,” he whispered, peppering your cheeks with kisses, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You moaned at his praise, and you felt yourself tightening around his cock. “You like it when I tell you how good you’re doing?” Spencer asked, a mischievous smirk rising to his lips. “You’re such a good girl, Y/N. You’re taking me so well,” he punctuated the final two words with sharp thrusts of his hips.

Between the words coming out of his mouth and the consistent movement of his hips, you knew you wouldn’t last long. You moaned, dragging your fingernails down his chest in an attempt to let him know. “Words, baby,” he encouraged. 

“I-” you groaned, “I’m gonna cum.” 

Spencer nodded, lifting himself up on his right arm to create some distance between you. “Hold on for me, one second.” He snaked a single hand down your torso, reaching your clit. He began drawing tight circles on your clit, causing your legs to shake as you tightened around him. Spencer leaned down to you and pressed his body against yours, “Let go, I’ve got you.”

With his permission, your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. Your back arched off the bed as you squeezed your eyes shut, Spencer’s name falling off your lips. Driven by the feeling of you constricting around his cock, Spencer drove one final thrust into you, pushing himself in to the hilt. 

You felt an unfamiliar sensation as he finished into the condom inside of you, lips parted in a silent groan as he held himself above you, staring deep into your eyes. “Good girl,” he whispered one more time as he collapsed on top of you. You both laid there for a second in a futile attempt to catch your breath. He leaned up, placing a soft kiss on your lips before he pulled out of you, causing you to moan at the sensation. “I’ll be right back,” he said. 

You heard him exit his bedroom, and the sound of water running drew your attention to the bathroom. A moment later, Spencer reentered the bedroom. “Come on, baby. Let’s get cleaned up.” It was then you became aware of the amount of sweat coating your body, as well as the wetness coating your inner thighs. You accepted his outstretched hand as he lead you to his bathroom, allowing you to sink into the bathtub before he followed suit. He climbed in behind you, allowing you to lean back against him. “How do you feel?” he asked. 

You turned your head to look at him, “I feel great.” You sat in silence for a second, a smile spreading across your face. 

“What?” Spencer asked. 

You shook your head, covering your face before letting out a small giggle. 

Spencer’s smile mirrored your own. “C’mon now, what is it?”  

“I guess you did have a lot to teach me, Dr. Reid.” You turned to look at him, eyes meeting for the first time since entering the bathtub. 

Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, lips dangerously close to your ear. “Believe me, there’s lots for you to learn, if you’re interested.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you asking me on a date, Doc?” 

He sighed, leaning back against the bathtub. “Sure am.”

“Maybe next time, we’ll actually make it through dinner and get to dessert,” you said with a laugh. 

“I don’t know,” he said, leaning around to look at you. He lowered his voice, “Now that I know what you taste like, you’re my favorite dessert.”

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Vice.

Synopsis - Everyone on the team has their vices. It just so happens that yours is sat across the table looking at you.

Pairing - Luke Alvez x Female Reader

Warnings - smut. cursing. luke has a gorgeous filthy mouth.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 1.6k

Author's Note - my baby my baby my BAAAAAABY!! I have been in love with this man for years and years and I can't believe I haven't written more for him. if you ever have a luke request, please send it to me. love him with my whole heart <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

Vice - a weakness of character or behaviour; a bad habit. "Cigars happen to be my father's vice."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Italian food."

The entire team laughs, faces illuminated by the warm yellow lights in Rossi's backyard.

"Yeah, no shit," Tara retorts, looking pointedly at Dave. "Doesn't take a behavioural analyst to figure that one out."

"Look, you asked the question, I answered."

He reclines back in his chair and takes a sip of his wine, looking around the table.

"Okay Tara, you go. What's your vice?"

She chuckles to herself before confessing.

"Super steamy period romances."

Everyone bursts into more laughter.

"Wait, what?"

"What kind?"

She's clutching at her sides as she answers.

"All kinds! Movies, books, TV shows. If it has corsets and sex, I'm in."

Your cheeks are aching from smiling so hard. You're not sure who first raised the initial question, but it's really allowed you to get to know each other a little bit deeper.

"Okay, enough about me. Simmons, what's your vice?"

"I have six kids. I don't have time for a vice."

He sounds serious, but he's grinning as he says it.

"I think the six kids are a result of an old vice."

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, several glasses of wine almost obliterating your verbal filter. Your team howl with laughter.

"No comment," Matt wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. "Golfing is a safer option now. No risk of unplanned surprises."

"I had to change mine after kids, too," JJ chimes in. "I used to smoke cigarettes after bad cases, but I can't anymore. What kinda mom would I be if I lectured the boys about the dangers of nicotine, and then got caught chain smoking in the backyard?"

"A cool one," you shrug, yelping when she jokingly punches you in the arm.

"What about you, hotshot?" she asks, the whole team turning their attention to you. "What's your vice?"

You desperately avoid any eye contact, trying to play it cool. You just know Luke has that glint in his eye as he looks at you pointedly.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Oh, fuck," you groan, fingers threading into the dark curls of his hair.

"Shhh, honey," he murmurs, lifting his head from between your legs to look up at you. "You and I both know how much trouble we'll be in if we get caught."

He dives back in, tongue gliding and flicking all the spots that make you keen. You slap one hand over your mouth, the other grappling to hold onto the leather beneath you.

"Bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" he taunts, condescension dripping from his tone. "The thrill turns you on, doesn't it, baby? The risk of getting caught only makes you hotter."

You whine against your palm, bucking your hips to urge him to keep going.

"What do you want, princesa? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."

He loves this. Loves hearing you beg. Loves having you relinquish complete control and let him take care of you. Loves that he can turn you, the most independent, headstrong woman he knows, into a whining, needy mess.

"Fingers," you croak out. "Make me come, Luke, please."

He grins up at you like the cat who got the cream, self satisfied smirk never leaving his lips.

"Okay, baby," he soothes. "Since you asked so pretty."

He slides two fingers into you with embarrassing ease, crooking them in the way he knows you like.

"Oh, sweet girl, what would the team think? Huh? What do you think they'd say if they saw you like this, letting me finger fuck you in the backseat of my car in the parking garage?"

He's muttering lowly, under his breath, but you hear him clear as day. He loves to patronise you, tease you, get under your skin. In everyday life, he treats you with the utmost respect. In bed, not so much. You love it.

"Couldn't even wait until we got home. Poor baby, just had to take the edge off."

His eyes meet yours, like a magnetic force. His gaze is so dark, it has you squirming in place.

"It was the shirt," you choke out. "Fucking shirt."

"Hmm?" he hums against you, the vibrations pulling you closer to the edge.

"Your shirt," you moan as his thumb finds your clit. "Makes your arms look so, fuck, so big."

Oh, you shouldn't have said that. You can practically see his ego inflating.

"I'll let you wear it tomorrow morning, if you want. If you can still walk by then, that is."

You're right on the precipice, orgasm almost within reach. If he keeps talking to you like this, you'll be at the finish line in no time.

"Oh, I've got a better idea. Why don't I fuck you in it?"

The idea makes your head spin, sending you straight into your climax. Sharp white heat licks up your spine, curling your toes and arching your back. Your grip tightens in his hair and he groans, low and honeyed.

"That's it, baby," he's murmuring. "Ride it out. Good girl."

You finally relax, melting into the leather seats. Luke crawls from his position to lean over you, resting his body onto yours. He kisses you gently at first, then dirtier as you come back to yourself.

"My place or yours?" he whispers against your lips.

"Yours is closer."

"Mine it is."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Hello? Earth to Hotshot?"

JJ nudges you playfully, grinning at you from ear to ear.

"What you thinking about?"

"Nothing," you stutter, clearing your throat. "Nothing at all."

You make the mistake of lifting your gaze from your lap. There, staring at you from across the table, is Luke Alvez. You almost wish you could slap that smug smirk off of his face.

"Come on, girl!" Tara hollers.

"Everyone has a vice," Spencer begins. "You have to. Especially in our line of work. We have to have some kind of outlet. Some sort of release."

Release. You almost choke on your wine, patting yourself on the chest.

"Yeah, no. I, uh, I like British reality TV. I guess that's mine."

The team laugh, everyone teasing you relentlessly. You risk a glance at Luke, and regret it immediately. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and chuckles, knowing look in his eye. You're petrified for a moment that he can read your mind.

"Okay then Spence. Your turn," you prompt, desperate to take the attention off yourself.

Spencer starts rambling about quantum physics, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Relief.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Yeah, this is what you needed, isn't it baby?"

You try to respond, but Luke's huge hands wrapped around your throat are making it a little difficult.

"My poor sweet girl, just needed some relief huh? You sick of being in charge all the time? You want me to take care of you?"

His tone is low and melted, the timbre of it settling into your bones. All you can do is whine and nod your head in response.

His hips repeatedly snap into yours, his body melded to you. He's completely smothering you with his weight, but you don't mind. You like the closeness.

You lean up to kiss him, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. He's swallowing your moans, leaning his head forward to rest against yours.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty," he groans. "You gonna come for me, mama? Give me what I want?"

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes. Please, baby. Please."

"Who am I to deny you when you beg so fucking sweet?"

The hand that's not around your throat snakes between your sweat slicked bodies to rub circles on your clit, throwing you over the edge.

Your back arches, hips writhing on Luke's soft cotton sheets. You're squeezing him so tight he's seeing stars.

"Oh fuck baby, oh fuck."

Luke goes boneless, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. He releases his grip on your throat and wraps both arms around you, pressing you together impossibly closer.

"We get better at this every time," he chuckles.

You smack him jokingly, before bursting into laughter. Soon, the two of you are crying happy tears, revelling in the afterglow.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"I'm gonna get a refill. Anyone need anything from the kitchen?"

You stand from your seat and make your way inside, taking note of the replies.

"I'll help you," Luke says, rising to join you. Neither of you see the way everyone at the table looks at each other knowingly.

You're barely through the door when you feel him against you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He presses a kiss onto your shoulder, murmuring in your ear.

"I'm your vice, aren't I?"

You shake your head, breathing out a laugh.

"In your dreams, Alvez."

He nips at your neck before continuing.

"Admit it. I'm your dirty little bad habit that you just can't kick."

You turn in his arms to face him, running your fingers through his hair.

"Talk the talk all you want, Luke. You and I both know this works both ways."

Your quirk your brow at him, and he leans in and kisses you chastely.

"Old habits die hard, huh?" he grins.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," you smirk back.

Outside, the team decide they'll continue to let you both lie to them for a little while longer. It's more fun for everyone that way.

[criminal-minds-girlie]

hotch and angry seeeex would be sooo nice

Bratty behaviour

Authors note: this is my first time writing proper smut which is probably very obvious - I'm not sure if its any good please tell me and suggestions are open!!

genre: fem! reader x Aaron hotchner smut

warnings: rough sex, use of 'slut' semi bad writing (idk)

summary: hotch is having Angry sex with you since you where being a Brat

word count: 304

Aaron was hovering over you. The sounds of your moans were like music to his ears.

He murmurs softly, "This is what you get for being a brat," and begins to kiss your forehead and trail open-mouthed kisses down your body. His nails pierce your side as he roughly jerks his hips into you. After you made a few flirty remarks to Spencer and bratty replies to Aaron, he quickly dragged you to the car, where he drove you home and stripped you down to your bra since you were acting like a brat and wouldn't put on panties.

“a-Aaron i-im sorry” you whimper out barely a whisper “i…im gonna c..” before you can even

Get your words out he clamps his hand over your mouth. 

“Nuh uh you're a little brat. You don't get to cum till i give you permission” he grunts slamming his hips into you as your moans and groans fill the room as he chokes you a slight bit “your such a little slut flirting with spencer like that, thinking i won’t get jealous”

Realistically you were being a brat to get pinned down your sex life with aaron has been quite vanilla recently and you knew flirting with spencer and being a brat would get you exactly what you wanted 

“mk..im sorry aaron let…let me cum..please” you groan softly as he places his palm down on your lower stomach

“Be a good girl and cum for me” he practically hisses chasing his own high while helping you reach yours as your walls tighten around him causing his own release soon.

“Thats it…good girl” he huffs quietly as he cleans you up gently taking care of you placing soft gentle kisses on your cheeks

“I forgive you baby” he speaks softly making you feel warm and cuddly

[velvetm00light]

Criminal Minds Masterlist

READ ME: Putting this here since I can only have one pinned post..I post all my writings on my SECONDARY, @velvetm00light. I made my primary similar (@velvetm00nlightx) to hopefully avoid confusion when I reply to comments, follow, and like posts. Make sure not to follow my primary as I do not use it! <3

Save Me (Spencer Reid)

Chapter One: Damsel

Chapter Two: Taken

Chapter Three: Rescue: Y/N's POV

Chapter Three: Rescue: Spencer's POV

Chapter Four: Loved

Chapter Five: Trust

Chapter Six: Falling

SPENCER REID

Drunken Confessions

Temper Tantrums

Snowed In

Peace

[tlou-reid]

Fearless ❆ Luke Alvez

☃︎SUMMARY: luke is so so so smitten for his girl.

☃︎WARNINGS: this is tooth-rotting fluff and i am not sorry about it

☃︎NOTE: i love writing for luke <3 that is my bf fr pls send requests for him when they are open again!

☃︎swiftmas masterlist!

.｡❅⋆⍋∞｡∞⍋⋆❅｡.

There’s something ‘bout the way the street looks when it’s just rained. There’s a glow off the pavement, you walk me to the car.

Luke’s hand was protectively around your waist as you stepped out of the restaurant. He was laughing at something Emily said, looking away from you but holding you close. You felt bad, keeping the waitress there just until close. Everyone had gotten wrapped up in the conversation, not realizing the team and their partners had been sitting there for almost three hours.

Luke’s attention turns back to you as you start to step off the curb. “Woah,” he smiles, stopping you from pressing your pretty high heels into the puddle that had accumulated. He stepped down, comfortably placing one hand on each side of your waist. He lifts you, just briefly, to get you over the puddle. Then, he gently places you back on the asphalt.

Your feet plant on the ground and you let out a giggle, reaching down to hold his hand. “I didn’t even realize it had rained.” He declares, before waving a final goodbye to where Emily and JJ are heading to their cars.

The parking lot was empty besides the team’s cars and the few employees that hadn’t left yet. “Thank you,” You smile at him again, moving your hand to his muscular bicep, and pulling him closer to you. “Of course,” he had a wide smile on his face, one that showed his dimples. His brown eyes were full of fondness as he looked at you.

“Whatcha looking at?” He asked, walking around to your side of the car. His hand reached to open the passenger side door for you when you answered. “The way the streetlights reflect off of the puddles.” Luke’s gaze followed your eyes, seeing the way the lights looked like little diamonds in the water.

And you know I wanna ask you to dance right there, in the middle of the parking lot.

You’re about to sit in the passenger seat when you get an idea. “Hey, Luke,” you call for his attention. He watched as you looked around the parking lot. The rest of the team had pulled off, leaving just you guys there. “You wanna dance?”

Even though Luke had been up since six o’clock this morning and his muscles still hurt from the case they had wrapped up, there was nothing he wanted more than to dance with you in this deserted parking lot.

He let out a chuckle, reopening the door all the way for you, and said, “Absolutely.” Luke didn’t think he’d ever seen you smile as wide as you were right now. You placed your feet back on the ground, reached for Luke’s hand, and pulled him to behind the car, where there was plenty of open space for you to dance.

You went to turn around and pull him close so you could begin swaying with him, but he was gone when you reached for him. Luke made his way to the driver’s seat, reaching in and turning on the car, He, then, turned back to look at you. “What do you wanna dance to?” he asked, holding his phone up. You let out another giggle, “Play Taylor Swift!” You called. Luke knew that was going to be your answer.

Lover quickly began playing through the car’s speakers. He left the door open and turned the volume all the way up. You would’ve been embarrassed if the moment wasn’t so sweet. Luke sauntered his way back towards, emphasizing the swing of his hips.

He reached out for you, pulling you close and swaying your bodies together. “I love you, princesa.” He whispered into the crown of your head as the song reached the bridge. You didn't answer, but the way you leaned your head onto his shoulder told him all he needed to know.

You two danced the entire song, he even sang the words into your ear. When it ended and you pulled away, you flashed him the biggest smile you could muster. Luke laughed, “Another?” Before you could answer, the sound of the crew from the restaurant interrupted you.

You shook your head no because of this, not wanting to be embarrassed by the people around you two. “Let’s go home,” you smiled at him, excited to crawl into bed and enjoy his body heat. Luke nodded, once again going to open the passenger side for you.

Once you both settled in, you started to sing along to one of your favorite Taylor Swift songs:

“We’re driving down the road, I wonder if you know, I’m trying so hard not to get caught up now…”

[writings-of-a-demigod]

It was morning and there was no case to work on yet, so each member of the team was writing their reports, having coffee or tea or just plain talking to each other. But there you sat at your desk doing research and looks like you’re busy. Nobody was paying attention to you but Luke heard you grumble under your breath a few times.

“I don’t get it.” You finally said loud enough.

Looking up from a file case “Get what?” he wasn’t sure you were talking to him.

“What does she see in him?” your eyes were glued to the screen.

Luke moving from his desk to get to your desk across from him to check what you were looking at.

“Wow” looking at the screen “You really did your homework on this guy.” He was reading the files that were on the screen “And why are you looking into this guy?”

Scratching you head “Well yeah I was not about to let my best friend go out with a serial something.”

Grabbing your phone and opening the text you were rethinking the whole ‘doing a background check on your bestie friend’s date’ I mean yeah, it’s a little weird but at least you will try to stay out of it.

“I get that you are looking out for your friend but this is on a new level, even for you.” He commented.

You turned your chair a little to face him “So you rather I let her just date this man who…..” You looked at the screen and started reading “Has a restraining order against him by two of his ex-girlfriends for breaking in and entering” then turned to face him again “Than face the fact that she could be kidnapped or worst?”

“Umm who’s getting kidnapped?” Matt asked as he heard you two talking.

“My best friend.” You told him

Luke gave you a look “Alright don’t exaggerate that much.”  

“Oh I’m sorry for trying to keep my friend safe I didn’t know that was wrong of me.” You said sarcastically.

“They’re doing a background check on their friend’s date because they felt a bad vibe from him.” He told Matt.

“You know they are always right about people.”  Matt told Luke smiling at you before he took a sip from his mug.

You smirked at Luke and he rolled his eyes while returning back to his desk.

“I would ask how you’re going to break the news to her but now I’m not that invested.” He told you.

You and Matt shared a look.

*gifs not mine*

[rubyarrows]

Unspoken Bonds

YN leaned against the filing cabinet, her fingers absently tapping a rhythm as she watched the bustling activity in the BAU bullpen. The team was working on their latest case, heads buried in folders and computers. She had been assisting the Behavioral Analysis Unit as a linguistics consultant for a few months now, and despite her initial trepidation, she'd come to appreciate the sense of camaraderie within the team.

Luke Alvez, with his rugged charm and friendly demeanor, had been one of the first to make her feel welcome. Their relationship was entirely platonic, a surprising and refreshing change for her, given her previous experiences. Luke's presence was comforting; she could always count on his lighthearted banter and genuine interest in her work.

YN's thoughts were interrupted when Luke appeared by her side, a cup of coffee in hand and a playful grin on his face. "Hey, YN. Long night?"

She chuckled softly. "Yeah, you could say that. The nuances of syntax and semantics don't unravel themselves easily, you know."

He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "And here I was, thinking language just flowed effortlessly."

"Next time, just give me a heads up," she replied, rolling her eyes with a smile. It had become something of an inside joke between them. Whenever one of them faced a particularly challenging task, they'd playfully remind each other to provide a warning in advance.

As they chatted about the case and their progress, the rest of the team noticed their interaction. Penelope Garcia, the tech-savvy genius, sent a mischievous wink their way from her computer station. Rossi, the seasoned profiler, walked over with a knowing smile, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Am I interrupting something?" Rossi asked, his tone light.

Luke shook his head, taking a sip of his coffee. "Nah, just helping YN navigate the intricate web of language."

YN shot Luke a playful glare. "Oh, don't make it sound so dramatic. I'll figure it out eventually."

Rossi chuckled. "I have no doubt about that. Luke, don't distract our consultant too much. We've got a puzzle to solve."

Luke saluted Rossi playfully. "Yes, sir. Back to work, YN."

As Rossi walked away, YN couldn't help but feel a warmth in her chest. This team was more than just colleagues; they were a quirky, caring family. Luke's presence was like a steady anchor in the midst of their intense work, a reminder that they were all in this together.

Later that evening, as they wrapped up for the day, Luke approached YN again. "Hey, there's a new cafe that opened up down the street. I heard they have amazing pastries. Care to join me tomorrow morning?"

YN smiled, feeling genuinely touched. "Sure, sounds great. Just give me a heads up about the time."

Luke laughed, recognizing the callback to their ongoing joke. "Will do. See you tomorrow then."

As YN packed up her things, she realized how much she had come to value Luke's friendship. In a world often dominated by unspoken tensions and hidden agendas, their platonic relationship was a breath of fresh air. She looked forward to their coffee date tomorrow, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, having Luke as a friend made everything a little bit easier to bear.

[thelukesalvez]

Luke Alvez x Reader: It's About Time

Prompt: The reader and Luke pretend to be dating so that the rest of the team will stop trying to set Luke up on blind dates.  

Word count: 3k

Warnings: none

You've really done it now, Alvez, Luke thinks to himself.  

Of all the names he could have blurted out, he just had to choose yours. God, the Queen of England would have been better.  

He thought back to the conversation in the bullpen that had started this whole mess.

"I-I can't go out with your friend," Luke stuttered, wishing his coworkers would stop pushing him to go on all these blind dates just because he was single.

"C’mon, Luke-” Tara pressed. “She’s smart and accomplished. I think you two would really hit it off-"

"Because I'm seeing someone," he blurted out spontaneously, mind racing to come up with a name.

Tara and JJ all looked taken aback, then suspicious, their eyes narrowing in unison. Tara raised her brows, "Oh? Who?"

Luke’s mind went blank, his brain nearly sizzling as it worked fast to come up with something. He should have chosen someone random- the girl who always walked her dog by his house, or the one who made his coffees in the morning. Someone the team didn’t know.  Hell, a completely made up girl would’ve been better.  

Suddenly, a warm smile and deep, sparkling eyes flooded his mind, and Luke couldn't stop himself. "Y/N."

JJ’s jaw dropped, a gasp escaping her lips. "Y/N?"

Instantly, Luke’s entire insides flood with regret.  

You worked in the Counter-Terrorism division of the Bureau. Luke first met you in training at the Academy when he joined the FBI. You had become quick allies, before graduating and moving on to your assignments.

There had been a time, in the Academy, when Luke had a thing for you, quickly reigned in by your charm. He admired your work ethic and constant ability to make him laugh.  

But everything changed once you finished the Academy.  You remained in Quantico while Luke traveled with the Fugitive Task Force, gradually losing touch.  

It was only recently, with Luke joining the BAU, that you two were able to reconnect. Now that he was stationed in Quantico full time, you actually saw each other quite frequently. At first, just in passing- a consequence of your offices being so close to one another.  But, as time went on, you started rekindling during work gatherings and even meeting for drinks after hours.  Your friendship with Luke was easy and natural.  You even were introduced to his team- who all took a quick liking to you.   

Sometimes Luke thought you were closer to Penelope, Tara, and JJ than you were to him. He cringed realizing they would never buy it. "Yeah," he confirms anyway.

"Luke," Tara said slowly, "why haven’t we heard anything about this?"

"We... wanted to take things slow,” Luke lied. “It just... sort of happened."

“Well, I mean, it’s about time. I think Pen called this months ago,” JJ said. 

Luke’s face flushed bright red. 

"We have to tell her," Tara agreed. 

“Yeah, Luke, you should bring her to Garcia’s house party this weekend. I’m sure Matt would love to meet her.”

Great. 

Luke slid off the desk he was kneeling on and nodded in confirmation, “Yeah, great idea,” he lied again. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans; positive this whole thing was going to bite him in the ass.

...

The next morning, Luke arrived at the Bureau early. He needed to talk to you before anyone else could.  

He had a hunch that he might be murdered today.

You were heading for the elevators when it happened. You had your head down and were 20 minutes early to work, per usual. Normally, you didn’t encounter anyone on your way inside of Quantico. But you let out a startled squeal when suddenly, someone threw their arm between the closing metal doors, forcing them to reopen. Breathless from the scare, you quickly turn to realize it was Luke. You let out a sigh of relief before playfully shoving his shoulder. 

“God, you scared me,” you said. 

But Luke didn't laugh. Instead he tugged on his shirt uncomfortably, an awkward smile on his face. 

“What’s the matter with you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“So, uh-” how the hell was Luke supposed to casually bring this up?  “It’s a funny story really..”

“Spit it out, Alvez,” you said, you immediately could tell something was up.  Luke was never this fidgety. 

He bit his lip harshly. “The entire BAU may or may not think we’re dating-” he spit out quickly. “That’s not true-” he corrected.  “The entire BAU definitely thinks we’re dating.”

You gawked at Luke, not entirely processing what he had just told you. “What?” Your cheeks were growing hot with embarrassment. “Why?”

Luke offered a brief, cheeky smile, one that was layered with guilt. "See, now that's a funny story-"

"Spit it out, Alvez."

“-Because I told them we were.”

Without even thinking you turned and pressed the stop button on the elevator, locking the two of you into place. This conversation was going to take a lot longer than the minute it took to bring you to the fourth floor. 

“You what?” You gasped.    

“Like I said- it’s really, kind of a funny story-” 

But you cut him off. "You have ten seconds to explain before I strangle you to death in this elevator.”

Luke’s eyes widened with shock, even though that was exactly the reaction he expected.  

“Talk. Now.” You demanded, cornering him.  

"Tara was trying to set me up with one of her friends- and to get out of it I told her I was already seeing someone. When she asked who, I panicked and said you."

Your nostrils flared and Luke thought he could almost hear your teeth grinding. "Why wouldn’t you just say no to the date?" You asked. “Instead of lying?”

“Because it never stops- every gathering, every party, they’re trying to set me up.  It’s like I scream lonely or something.”

Your mouth tightened but you stayed quiet.

“I needed something that would shut them up for good.  Or at least a little while.”

"And so you said you were dating me..." 

Luke sighed. “I know it was stupid. But I’m tired of going on meaningless dates that never turn out good. I just needed a break... I mean, it's exhausting, really- and never ending. But I get it- I mean, I get it's not fair to you. But I panicked- and just reacted." God, he was blabbing. "But I’ll tell them it was a lie, I’ll go on the date-”

You crossed your arms. "You done?"

Luke nodded. You waited a moment, mulling the whole thing over in your head.

It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, right? Except, it was. Because back at the Academy, when you and Luke first became friends, you had developed a small, barely-there, tiny crush on Luke. However, now that he was stationed in Quantico and you two were seeing each other more often, your crush had only grown into a full fledged, real-life feelings.  

But the thought of Luke going on another blind date made you cringe, so without giving yourself a chance to do the responsible thing here, you blurted out a quick, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Luke said in disbelief. 

“What would I have to do?”

“Uh-” Luke stammers, like he’s still in shock. “Garcia’s party-  You could come to Garcia’s party with me.”

"Garcia’s party then," you declared. "We pretend to be together for the party."

Luke’s eyes met yours and he gave you a convincing smile. “Are you sure?”

You shrugged before pushing the button to start the elevator back up again. “Yeah, what the hell?”

…

You pulled into the driveway of Garcia’s home and both of you sat in the car, tensed.

“I’m sorry again about this. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess. I owe you one. I just… didn’t want to do the blind date thing and you’re the only person I’d feel comfortable doing this with and-“ 

You cut Luke off and slid your calm hand over his shaking one. You hope the small admission was lost somewhere in Luke’s rushed, jumbled apology.

“Luke, it’s fine. I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t want to say yes.” You squeezed Luke’s hand, gently demanding for him to look up and into your eyes.

Luke obliged.

“I’m happy to be here with you. There’s no one else in the world that I’d rather be in a fake relationship with.”

Luke thought that, ‘or a real relationship’ was hanging somewhere in the air between them. But neither of you had the courage to admit it.

You squeezed Luke’s hand again before hopping out of the passenger’s side, going to the backseat to collect the bottle of wine you’d brought.  

To say Garcia was excited to see the two of you holding hands on her doorstep was an understatement. 

“Oh my gosh,” she said, looking shocked. “Oh my gosh. You guys are so beautiful together. I always had a feeling about this. Made for each other, you two. I called this.” 

“Hi Penelope,” you said through a smile.

She waved you in excitedly, and you and Luke exchanged glances before following her into the house.

Luke carried the bags in and you carried the wine. Luke couldn’t help but think that this is probably how it would go if you two were really dating. Luke doing all the heavy lifting of the bags, and you letting your friends whisk you into the kitchen to chatter about something.

Luke shook the thought out of his head.  

...

“So tell me about how you guys got together,” JJ asked later in the night.  

Penelope’s eyes widened and she hurried to set down her glass before flailing her arms. “Oh, oh, oh!” she bounced excitedly. “I want to know too!” 

Everyone in the room’s attention turned to you. You opened your mouth to speak, but hesitated. 

While you floundered in your explanation. Luke wished he could go to you, wrap an arm around your waist, steady you and remind you that it was okay.

Luke was midway through the thought when he realized that oh… he could actually do that right now.

He crossed the room in a hurry before wrapping a steadying arm around your waist. He pulled you into his side, smiling at you as he felt you lean into his body, one of your arms snaking behind him to grip his hip. 

Luke could get used to this. 

But he won’t be getting used to this. Because this is just for the party and then you and him will go back to being just friends. 

“It uh-” Luke fumbled with his words, too distracted by the way your fingertips felt against the flesh of his hip. 

But you swooped in to save him, jumping into your story quickly. “It happened after work a little while ago. We were riding down in the elevator together and he finally just asked me out.” Luke squeezed your arm, as your voice trailed off. You looked up at him, smiling. “It was an easy yes from me, I’d been waiting for him to do that for a while- pretty much since the day we met.” You let the moment carry you through the story, let your real, raw feelings show, for once. And you hoped that Luke was listening to every word. You hoped it registered to Luke that not all of this was for show.

It took a small whimper of a sob that came from Garcia's mouth to snap the two of you from your trance. 

“Oh, you guys. I’m so happy for you both. This is wonderful. From the way Luke’s always talked about you, I figured that he was just in his own head again… he’s been head over heels for you for quite some time –“

“Oh wow, Garcia,” Luke choked on his words, his eyes wide. “That reminds me, we brought your favorite wine! Let’s get that opened, yeah?” His skin was the same shade as the Pinot Noir he was currently reaching for.

Garcia smiled and nodded, clapping her hands together before shuffling off to grab three wine glasses from the cupboard. But you were looking up at him with a blinding grin.

Just for show, Luke thought. Just for show.

Penelope returned with a handful of glasses, which she filled with a generous serving of wine and held hers up like she was about to give a toast. Luke groaned. He hadn’t anticipated how much his team would dote over his fake relationship. 

“To you, Y/N. For making my Luke the happiest I’ve ever seen him, and for so many years to come.”

You all clinked your glasses and sipped (in Luke’s case, chugged) before Garcia led them into the living room.

Luke found himself sitting on the couch listening to Rossi tell stories about his early days with the BAU.  Somewhere during the story your fingers laced together.

Luke wasn't sure when it happened or who initiated it.

But he certainly wasn’t complaining.

…

“God, how he drooled over you. I swear, his jaw dropped to the floor anytime you entered a room.”

Luke was going to kill Rossi. 

You, on the other hand, were laughing hysterically on the couch next to him. Luke was far past the mortification of it all at this point. His team had graciously taken it upon themselves to test if he could actually die of embarrassment. He assumed they’re about halfway there.

Somewhere between the stories of Luke’s desperate pining over you and your fond smiles, Luke had refilled his glass of wine.

He wished he had something stronger, because wine wasn’t exactly cutting it for him in this mess of a conversation.

You, however, looked happy.

Your second glass of wine had caused your cheeks to gently flush, while your full grin was on display. 

“Time for cards!” Garcia announced as she waved everyone into the kitchen. 

Before standing up, you leaned into Luke’s side. “You okay?" 

Your voice was soft. Luke pressed closer to you without thinking about it.

“Yeah. I-I’m fine, just… don’t listen to them, okay? JJ and Rossi are trying to wind me up, and Garcia’s just happy that I’m with someone. I promise I’m not some… some like.. I didn’t… what they said-" 

There was no way to explain what the team had said that wouldn’t result in Luke lying to you. All of those stories were true, they just sounded more pathetic when they were told all together like that.

You shook your head and grinned.

“It’s okay. Besides, if we were actually dating, I think I would be a little angry at you right now for not making a move sooner.” You winked before standing up, holding your hand out for Luke to take. 

Luke pushed himself up from the couch and linked his fingers with yours again, grabbing his glass of wine because he would probably need that to get through this night alive.

…

“She’s good for you, Luke. I’m glad that you finally mustered up the courage to ask her out.” Rossi clapped Luke on the back as he and you gathered up your things at the end of the evening.

All Luke could do was nod and smile in return.  

You, on the other hand, were in the middle of a shockingly long hug from Garcia, who was making you promise that you’d visit soon. 

Luke bites his lip, wondering if maybe this whole thing had gone too far. How was he supposed to keep up this facade when he showed up at work the next day and everyone asked about you? 

He was still thinking about it when the two of you got into the car.  

You exhaled a breath of relief as soon as you sat down. When you look over, Luke’s staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

Luke shook his head, chuckling uncomfortably. He stared down at his lap for a moment. 

You shifted in your seat, angling your body so that you were facing him. 

“Tell me,” you urge, your voice softening. 

Luke met your gaze, his lips turned into a small smile. “I’m just thinking about what I’m going to tell the team tomorrow.”

Your confused face urges him to continue. 

“I don’t know, I mean they love you- I think more than they love me. They’re gonna be asking about you all the time.  Do we fake a breakup now?”

Without thinking, you reached out to cup Luke’s cheek before leaning in and kissing him, softly and gently. 

You didn’t want to pull your lips away, and suddenly, Luke was kissing you back.  Only when you were desperate for air did you pull away.  

“Were they looking?” Luke asked quietly, still keeping his soft brown eyes locked on you. 

Narrowing your eyebrows, you shake your head. “No,” you tell him.  “No, they weren’t looking.”

Luke’s mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape, his jaw dropping slowly. 

“Luke-” you said slowly, hoping that you weren’t painfully misjudging the situation. “I think we both know that tonight wasn’t fake. Tell me if I’m wrong.”

You both looked at each other in fond silence before Luke nodded slowly, too shocked to speak. 

“Am I wrong?” you asked, your confidence fading quickly. 

Luke shook his head, “No,” he blurted out. “No, you aren’t wrong.”

With a grin you just couldn’t wipe off of your face, you nodded again.  “Good,” you whispered.  

Luke licked his lips, only now realizing how dry they were. “So maybe we don’t have to have a fake break up?” His sentence finished as a question. 

“Luke Alvez,” you said, scooting even closer towards him.  “Are you finally asking me out?”

Luke nodded while simultaneously closing the gap between the two of you, pressing your lips together in a sweet kiss.  You were both smiling into each other’s touch.  

When you finally break apart, your face was flushed and you were out of breath. You smiled, little tears gathering in your eyes that Luke swiped away gently with the pad of his thumb. 

“It’s about time,” you told him smugly. 

[prentissluvr]

two mugs, half empty — luke alvez

pairing : luke alvez x bau!gn!reader (can be read as platonic or romantic) ➖⟢ genre : hurt/comfort ➖⟢ cw : feelings of guilt and shame, nightmare mentions, talk of canon typical violence, crying ➖⟢ wc : 2.8K

“you look like hell.”

“wow, thank you, luke. way to compliment somebody,” you deadpan, even though he said it with a voice full of empathy. he gives you a good-natured roll of his eyes before his face returns to that concerned look you opened your apartment door to.

“but seriously, did you sleep at all over the weekend?” you want to hate how much he cares about you, but the sincerity of his voice has you nearly ready to cave. 

“come in,” you offer, completely ignoring his question because the answer is “no, not really.” he raises his eyebrows at your lack of response, but steps in after you anyways. he can guess the answer well enough from the exhaustion evident in your whole figure.

you sit down with him in the kitchen, grabbing him a glass of water before he can say no to it. his gaze on you is heavy, but you ignore it in favor of examining the wood of the table in front of you. since you won’t say anything, he goes first.

“i came to check on you,” he states the obvious, “i’m– we’re kinda worried about you, you know? like, you haven’t responded to any of my texts all day and you never call in sick, even when you probably should, so i figured you’d probably be bedridden for you to make the choice to stay home.” he pauses for a long moment, as if inviting for you to explain why you’re, in fact, not bedridden, and not really physically sick at all. you don’t say a word. “so,” he prompts, “what’s up? why’d you turn down drinks with the rest of the team on saturday? kinda feels like you’re avoiding us.”

“i am avoiding you guys,” your voice comes out far quieter than you intended. you had wanted to sound nonchalant, and all you got was exhaustion. you sigh before continuing, “because you’re profilers and i don’t want to talk about it.” he sighs too.

“if it’s so bad that you went to the lengths to call off sick from work to avoid talking about it, it seems to me like it’s something you should talk about.”

you turn your head even further from him because you know he’s right. you’ve been holed up in your apartment, agonizing over what happened three nights ago, desperate to scream and cry about it to someone else. god knows you’ve done enough of that with yourself, but you’re reverting to old habits and it feels like you’re back to only knowing how to avoid, avoid, and keep avoiding.

“listen, i don’t want to push you, but i need you to know that i’m here for you.” his hand hovers over yours for a moment, silently asking permission before gently wrapping his fingers around yours. you clench your jaw and bite the inside of your cheek to keep tears from forming in your eyes. honestly, you didn’t think you could produce anymore, but here you are, trying not to cry in front of your coworker turned close friend whom you’ve probably upset by ignoring him.

luke gains a little bit of hope when you squeeze his hand. he squeezes back, hoping you feel the love and care that he puts into it. you do, and it doesn’t help your case with the whole crying ordeal.

“thanks,” you whisper. the thickness in your voice completely gives you away. tilting your head up to try to stop the flow of tears is plain old silly at this point, and he watches with a weight heavy on his heart as they overflow and fall down your cheeks. the tears catch in the light of the only lamp that’s turned on in the room. “fuck. goddammit,” you curse through the tears, well aware they won’t stop anytime soon. “luke,” you cry.

“i’m here,” he replies so earnestly without missing a beat that you begin to cry harder. that’s the last straw for him. quickly, he stands and wraps you up in his arms without a second thought. with you sitting, your face barely reaches his chest, and your arms reach around his lower torso. he’s got one hand rubbing up and down your back, the other cradling the back of your head into him. the way you hold onto him is desperate and breaks his heart, but he’s glad to give you something that you so clearly need. comfort.

“i–,” you try to explain, but you can’t get anywhere before choking on your own sobs.

“shhh, it’s okay. just let it out. i’m not going anywhere.” and he sticks to that promise, standing strong and unwavering, even after your tears run out and you can’t find it in yourself to pull away from him just yet. he doesn’t force a thing, just strokes the back of your head gently as a silent reminder that he’s there.

when you finally pull away, it’s only by a few inches, and he keeps his hands right where they are. he looks down at your face as you stare at the maroon fabric of his shirt and the tear stain you left behind. slowly, as if to not startle you, he bends down to be closer to your level. at first, you avoid meeting his eyes, but when the hand on your shoulder shifts up to your cheek and he gently wipes at the leftover tears, you let your gaze meet his. he gives you a smile, small and comforting, before speaking softly.

“i’m gonna make you some tea, alright?”

when you nod, his hands slide away from you, hesitant to let you go. your gaze follows his form as he turns and walks to the counter behind you, first grabbing your favorite mug from the cabinet and taking the liberty to grab one for himself too. then he’s at the pantry for the tea bags and he can feel your eyes on him. once the tea bags are on the counter, he’s by your side again. he gives you another soft smile as he grips the sides of your chair and turns it and you to face the counter. somehow luke just knows that him staying in your line of sight is a comfort to you, proof that he’s right there. he doesn’t want you to have to strain your neck in order to feel safe.

his silence as he fills and turns on the kettle, then sits back down beside you to wait for it to boil is a comfort too. it makes a difference that he’s not making you explain anything.

with him, the passage of time isn’t so horrible, and it’s easy to wait for the tea to be ready. when he sets the mug down in front of you, he tells you to be careful since it’s hot, even though you already know it. that’s when you make the decision that you will tell him what’s kept you holed up in your apartment for three days straight, what made you cry into his arms and skip work today.

it takes you four minutes of failed attempts to open your mouth and force a sound out of your throat before you finally get any words out. four minutes of sipping tea and thinking about how to start or how grateful you are that he’s here.

first comes a big, deep breath and another long moment of quiet. and then you realize you can’t just get into you, so you do your best and start by skirting around the actual problem.

“i know this job–” you have to clear your throat, “i know this job is really hard.” that sentence is kind of stupid purely because of how obvious it is, but you’ve at least started to tell him what this is all about. “and we’ve all learned ways to cope with that. i just– the way that, uh,” you pause to try and collect yourself a bit, but it does nothing to keep your voice from getting quiet, “the way that this last case ended? it, um, it…” suddenly you’re unsure what to even say. luke places his hand over your own, easing its shaking. you take another deep breath.”i can’t– i can’t get it out of my head. i can’t get her dead body out of my head and i can’t shake the feeling that it’s my fault.” 

he’s about to say something, assure you that it absolutely was not your fault, but then everything comes tumbling out.

“i know, logically, technically, that it’s not. i know that, i’ve rationalized this whole thing in my head, even out loud, over and over and over again for the past three days. i know, we didn’t profile him to be so paranoid. i played into his narcissism like i was supposed to, like anyone of us would have, but fuck! it was still my words that set him off, the shit i said got a bullet through her brain.” he squeezes your hand in support. “and when i wake up from the nightmares, i can still hear her whimpers as he held her at gunpoint, even worse, arguably, is her mom begging me to bring her home alive that same morning. you know what i told her? that we were doing everything we could to find her and bring her back, i promised.” the tears start up again. “i told her not to give up hope because the people i work with are incredibly good at their jobs. then i see her sobbing in the corner of the police station after rossi told her that her daughter was fucking dead. and you know what i fucking did? i put my head down and walked in the opposite direction with the excuse that reid could use some help taking down the evidence board.” 

your voice gets even shakier and the furrow in his worried brow deepens as you continue talking. “and i’m so ashamed, i’m so fucking ashamed, luke. i got her daughter killed and i couldn’t even tell her that–” a sob cuts you off, “that i’m sorry,” you cry. “i couldn’t face her. i couldn’t bear to see her crying about it or try and comfort her about it because i was too goddamn guilty to even look her in the eye. and now i see her and her dead daughter everytime i close my eyes.”

the silence after that is colossally heavy. to hear his softest voice calling your name as you stare into your half empty mug is enough to send more tears rushing down your cheeks. he sounds so heartbroken for you, like even he’s choked up by hearing your longwinded confession.

the way he moves is both careful and purposeful as he stands and urges you back into his embrace. this time your crying is quiet, just tears without sobs because you don’t have that left in you. it’s more short lived because it seems like your body’s finally run out of tears to give too. with one side of your face pressed against his shirt and his hands holding you there, it does feel a bit easier to breathe.

when he starts to talk, his voice is as soft as it has been all night. “i don’t want to tell you to just not feel ashamed or guilty. i wish you wouldn’t have to feel that way, really. but i want you to know that i understand. i don’t want to invalidate those things because they are real and they hurt and i understand why you’re feeling them. but it is not your fault. not for one second is it your fault. i’m sure you’ve reminded yourself this already, but we can never forget that it is only ever the fault of the people who pull the trigger on innocent lives.” 

you nod because he’s right, you’ve told yourself that many times. but you realize it makes a difference to hear these things out of his mouth, not just from your mind that was only desperate to ease your guilt. you suppose that’s what he wants too, but it’s somehow better.

he pulls away from you, and positions the chairs so that you’re sitting knee to knee as he holds both of your hands in his. he looks you in the eye as he speaks, every ounce of sincerity visible in his face and easy to hear in his voice.

“and we just can’t be perfect, we can’t be expected to be everything for everyone every time. dealing with family members who have lost their loved ones is one of, if not the, hardest thing that we have to do for this job. rossi was there for her this time, and it’s okay if it was too hard for you. what you did is completely understandable and completely okay. throughout this whole case, you followed procedure and you followed the profile. we all did. so if any of us stood where you did, with the mother and with the unsub, the same exact same thing could have happened. would you blame me for it if i were in your place?” he gently wipes a stray tear from your cheek. 

slowly, with his hand still cupping your face, you shake your head. “and would you forgive me for it?” it takes you a long moment of holding back more cries to answer, silently and slowly again. up and down, just once, you nod your head.

“there’s your answer. you’re allowed to not blame yourself and you’re allowed to forgive yourself. you are allowed to feel okay because we can’t fix this world, but we are making it better and we certainly deserve our own happiness. there will always be people who die and the people they leave behind. we just have to keep going because we are still saving lives. even more, our lives deserve to be protected as much as anyone else’s. we do that by allowing ourselves happiness, a life outside of all of the pain and gore and monsters of the world we work in. i’m sorry, and the things i say can’t make this all just go away. but i’m here for you and i think that being reminded of these things is a must for all of us. today’s one of those days where you deserve to be reminded.”

you don’t even think you could really cry again, even if you wanted to, but you certainly feel like it. only this time, it’s out of relief. your guilty conscience still tries to fight with his words, but the part of you that knows he’s right is holding onto his comfort with all it’s got and it’s making you want to burst into tears again. being reminded of your right to let it go is something you’ve needed, not just for this case, but for months. you didn’t even realize, but you’ve holding onto little things here and there and letting it build up until it all blew up in your face last friday night. so to let that all out and feel comforted is a relief far stronger than anything you’ve felt before.

“thank you.” your voice is back at a whisper, but you hope he can hear how much you mean it. you think he does when he smiles.

“of course. you’ll always have me, and you have everyone else on the team too, you know that.”

you nod and do your best to smile back. “thank you,” you repeat. you don’t even know what else to say. “and um, i’m always here for you too, luke. you know, just when i’m not a complete hot mess.” the lighter tone in your voice as you attempt a joke is luke’s relief, the relief that you’re on the way to feeling better.

“thanks,” he chuckles lightly. the sound makes you glad.

“hey luke?”

“yeah?” he replied in earnest, eager to give.

“can we order some thai food and watch movies until we fall asleep on the couch?”

that really makes him happy, and he grins like he always does to show it. “you know it.” so, he buys you food and tells you to pick all the movies. he lets you lean on him when you get tired, then carries you to bed and tucks you in when you fall asleep halfway through the first film. he stalls in your room by fixing the hair the falls onto your face and pressing a light kiss to your forehead. then he leaves the door cracked, just in case, and takes a while to fall asleep on your couch after putting the leftovers in the fridge. he cries a little, because he hates that it’s so hard for you, and it’s hard for him too. 

at the end of the day though, he’s just glad you’ll be okay.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

CM Meet Cute (or not) Challenge 📚☕️

The following are prompts including a Meet Cute/Ugly scenario (any first-time-meeting)! Reader or OC, Gen/Platonic, AND Character/Character fics are allowed!

This event is over (Masterlist of Fics here), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

☕️ Generic Prompts 📚

Character gets locked out and their neighbor picks the lock for them.

Characters get the same coffee order. They both reach for it at the same time.

Characters get paired up at the work event icebreaker.

Characters both duck for cover under the same tiny storefront when it starts pouring.

Character is knocked into a stranger’s lap on the bus.

Characters are both stood up at the same date spot.

Character sits next to a stranger in the theater, but the two end up bonding when there’s a technical glitch.

On Character’s first day at the new job, they get stuck on the elevator with their new coworker.

Character breaks their heel/slips on the way into their new job. Their new coworker manages to catch them.

Character accidentally dumps their coffee on someone in a very dramatic fashion.

Character accidentally causes someone to slip and fall. They try to help them up, but they both fall down.

Characters are sat together on a long train ride.

Characters are on rival teams at a work event.

Characters reach for the same book at the library.

Character sits next to someone at an academic conference. They get way too excited about a topic that’s taboo/uncouth to normal people.

Character accidentally messages the wrong number. A stranger answers.

Character offers unsolicited fashion advice to a stranger in the dressing room.

Characters wear matching masks at a masquerade party.

It isn’t a meet cute at all. They know each other already but they don’t notice for an embarrassingly long time.

Character realized they left a piece of clothing in the laundromat but when they return, someone’s already started a load. The pair wait for it to finish together.

Character accidentally bumps into someone’s car in a parking lot. They are very upset… until they realize how cute the other one is.

Anything else you can think of!

🍄 Autumn Prompts 🍁

Character gets lost in a corn maze… meant for children. They begrudgingly ask a total stranger, for help.

Character fight over a perfect pumpkin at the patch and explain why each of them needs it.

Characters show up in an accidental couples’ costume.

Character tries to scare their friend, but ends up spooking a complete stranger.

Character steps on a stranger’s shoe… and realizes they are dressed like Cinderella.

Character accidentally gets hurt in a spooky attraction and a scare actor breaks character to help.

Character gets scared in a haunted tour and jumps in the arms of someone they think is their friend—but it’s not.

Character thinks someone is in a costume and tries to guess what it is. They’re not in a costume.

🫣 Dialogue Prompts 😅

“Hey, sorry, can I give you my number?” “What?” “Oh, not like that—I lost my phone.”

“My kid thinks you’re a real princess. Would you mind taking a photo with them?”

“I think we accidentally swapped orders. By the way, what the hell is in this?”

“Hey, would you mind talking to me so this creep will leave me alone?”

“Is it possible to actually die from embarrassment?”

“I definitely would have remembered meeting you.”

“Watch where you’re going!” “… You ran into me?!”

“That diamond is fake.” “So is the engagement.”

“You aren’t some crazy serial killer, right?”

“Do you believe in fate?”

“This is way too cliche.”

Rules 📚

The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs are more than welcome.

Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.

Have fun!

Happy Writing!

[randomperson3736]

Needles

Paring(s): Luke alvez x wife! Reader

Warning(s): fainting, fear of needles, needles

Genre: comedy

Summary: Luke's wife hates needles

Word bank: y/n- your name

Today you had to get some blood tests done and you and Luke were sitting in the hospital lobby patiently waiting to be called. A few minutes later an female nurse came out and called you out, "y/n alvez?". You both stood up but then you pushed Luke back into his chair.

You nervously smiled at him. "Stay here" you mumbled.

Luke looked confused before he chuckled lightly. "But you hate needles?"

"I'll be fine" you gulped before turning to follow the nurse inro the room.

But not even 5 minutes later, the same nurse came back into the lobby.

"Umm, sir? Your wife passed out as soon as I pulled out the needle," the nurse spoke calmly as she looked at Luke.

Luke tried to hold in his laughter and had the urge to say, "I knew it", but held it in. He cleared his throat, and shook his head.

A few minutes later, you regained consciousness and the first you saw was Luke smirking in the corner. You huffed before throwing a pillow at him. "Shut up!" You mumbled embarrassed.

Luke doged the pillow, laughing so hard his stomach hurt. "I knew you couldn't do it," he laughed aloud as you just hide your face under the hospital bed covers.

[forhappysake]

jj: i have two beautiful sons and am married to the love of my life. everything is going right for me and i couldn't be happier.

unsub: i bet u have a secret

jj: im so glad someone finally asked, so actually I've always been in love with-