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etherrealoblivion · 4 years

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A Broken System

MASTERLIST

Summary: At her birthday celebration, Y/N is out on the town enjoying herself when she runs into a cute FBI agent who she’d love to take home and do terrible things to. Normally, someone meeting an FBI agent at a bar wouldn’t be that big of a deal. There’s just one, miniscule, microscopic, meager, problem... Y/N is only twenty.

tags: Large Age Difference, power imbalance, choking, Dom/sub, safe sex, vaginal penetration, dirty talk, cliffhanger.

A/N: this just made so much more sense in third person. i tried replacing it with second person, but trust me it did not work. hope you enjoy! gif by @toyboxboy

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Words: 5,930

Spencer Reid never really thought he was attractive.

Probably had something to do with his perpetually messy hair, gangly stature, and his tendency to ramble on and on and on and. . .

Yeah. Like that.

Another factor definitely was the fact that he was in his 30’s and had never really had a stable relationship. Sure, he’d had relationships with a few women. Well, two women. The first being a girl he’d met in college with whom he had a brief fling. Spencer didn’t really count it as a stable relationship due to the fact they barely even kissed. And the other woman, the only woman he’d ever really loved, died tragically several years ago.

Maeve.

Maeve was the real reason Spencer didn’t like going to bars with Morgan or being set up on dates by Penelope. She was the reason that Spencer wasn’t interested in anyone anymore. Who could possibly compare to Maeve?

Damn it. That was the other reason he wasn’t looking to date. He knew how the mind worked and there was no doubt that if any new person came into his life, she’d be unconsciously compared to Maeve. He couldn’t put anyone through that.

So, Spencer Reid stayed single. Which, for him, was relatively easy. Whenever someone started to get a little too close with him, he’d blabber and spout facts until they ran off. Morgan would ask what happened and Reid would just put on a slight frown, mumbling how she had to go.

The charade got more effortless the more they went out. Morgan, almost always going home on the arm of some woman and Spencer content to get a cab back to his own place, have a quick efficient orgasm, and fall asleep.

He had a system. And no one was going to break it.

Y/N hated the summertime.

Well, she didn’t usually. Anywhere else on the planet it would be mildly enjoyable. The beach, ice cream, staying up all night. All that fun crap. In Washington D.C, however, summer was hell.

But! When one was accepted into Georgetown and their parents offered to pay FULL tuition plus housing, how can one say no?

Seriously, she wanted to know.

After two whole years in this armpit of a town, Y/N had finally gotten used to the sweltering heat that plagued the city during the summer. Whatever. She just stayed in the comfortable A.C. all day anyway.

But, the summer before her third year was almost over, and the only thing she could think about now was graduating with a major in Journalism. She didn’t really like most of the courses, but it’s what she needed to do to become a full-time editor.

Living in a rent-free apartment was heaven. No roommates meant no worrying about, well, anything. The only problem was, her parents could hold it over her head every time they called. Which is why she never answered their calls.

Today, however, answering was unavoidable.

Because not only was it the day before her first class, today was her twentieth birthday.

Y/N was in the middle of getting dressed to go out with her friends when her phone vibrated from the kitchen table.

“Hello?”

She tried so hard to suppress the cringe at her mom’s voice.

“Sweetie! How are you? Are you eating?”

“Yes, mom.”

Oh boy. Strong start, mom.

“You look skinny in the pictures on Facebook!”

Yeah, she was definitely going to be late.

Surprisingly, it only took five minutes to push her mom off the phone, insisting that her friends were on their way and she had to keep getting ready.

A sharp rap on the door saved her.

“Come on!! It’s almost ten!” Y/N’s friend, Mina, said, annoyed. “All the old people leave the bars at ten and if we don’t get there soon, the bouncers won’t let us in!”

Y/N didn’t really understand the logic there. Hot girls always got into bars. Especially late at night. How were there not more crimes committed in clubs? Maybe she’d find out in her first class tomorrow.

“Hey!” Mina snapped her out of it, “Come on! Let’s go.”

They arrived outside a dinky little club a few minutes later. It had taken Y/N a while to get accustomed to how close everything was together in this town. Before college, she had been a small-town girl. Promise ring and everything. That, uh. That didn’t last long.

Before they got in line, Mina took a long satin sash out of her purse and secured it across Y/N’s torso.

“What the hell’s this?”

The sash was white with large pink flowy letters that poignantly spelled out: Birthday Bitch.

“It’s a sash.”

Three of Mina’s friends strode up, quickly exchanging hugs and wishing Y/N a happy birthday.

“I see that it’s a sash, but why am I wearing it?”

Mina confidently strode up to the bouncer, Y/N at her side, fake ID at the ready. Technically, it was the right birthdate, the year was just a little off.

“Go through. Happy Birthday,” the guy said, barely sparing the ID a glance, more focused on the huge sash. It made sense. She didn’t look her age. No one would think she was only in college by taking a glance at her.

“Oh, thank you.”

“Look,” Mina pulled her aside just before they entered, “this makes every single guy in there want to buy you a drink. So, go enjoy a free Shirley Temple, on me.”

Y/N scoffed and entered the club, immediately overwhelmed by the booming of the music.

Jesus Christ. How did people not die from this? It felt like her heart was beating out of her chest.

Sure, she’d been in a bar before. But not a real, proper club. She was pretty sure she saw some people wearing neon. Oh my god, there was a DJ.

Suppressing a laugh, she headed to the bar. At least there was a bar. There were so many people gathered around though that she couldn’t get much access to the one bartender on staff.

Luckily, he spotted her sash that seemed to shine under the blacklights.

“Hey, make some room for the birthday girl!”

And the crowd parted like the red sea, every man’s head turned towards her, and she cautiously approached the bartender who gave her a quick wink.

“Scotch. Neat.”

A dark man with a silver nose ring slid onto the stool next to her.

“It’s on me,” he addressed the bartender, staring at her the whole time. “So. Birthday girl. How old are you turning?”

She smiled softly. The sash was working great, but now she had to come up with a way to answer his question without explicitly lying.

“Who wants to know?”

Maybe flirting would be distracting enough.

He smiled, glancing down for a moment, then holding out his hand. Ha. Men.

“I’m Jon.”

Ugh. She hated handshakes. But for this man, she might be able to make an exception.

“Y/N.”

Five minutes later, she wished with all her heart she could take the handshake back. Y/N should have known better than to talk to a guy at a club. They were all sleazebags. But! She did manage to get a couple of drinks out of it.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said after his fifth time mentioning Outback Steakhouse.

But before she could leave the bar discreetly, a hand wrapped around her arm, yanking her back.

“Hey, what’s the matter? I thought we were talking?”

Y/N may have been a small-town girl, but that didn’t stop her from grabbing his shoulders and driving her knee up into his crotch, stomping off toward the exit.

Only when she got outside did she realize how fast her heart was beating. She leaned over, hands on her knees to catch her breath.

A soft hand on her shoulder made her snap around, grab the hand and twist it around the stranger’s back, shoving him up against the alley wall.

“I’m sorry!” the man squawked shrilly. “I’m sorry!” It wasn’t Jon.

“What were you doing?” she demanded, not releasing him yet.

“I saw you lean over. I just wanted to see if you were ok!”

She finally drank in the man’s appearance. He was wearing a soft purple sweater vest over a grey button-down, slacks, and worn black converse on his feet.

Confident that he wasn’t a threat, she released him and took a step back.

The man rubbed his elbow softly, glancing at her chest. Before she could tell him off for staring at her rack, he pointed to the sash.

“Is it your birthday?”

She looked down. Oh, he’d been looking at the sash of course. Then why did she feel … disappointed?

“Oh, yeah. Some guy bought me a drink and got a little, er, touchy.”

Suddenly, the man’s face went dark.

“Who is he? Where is he?”

He started to walk back into the club but she stopped him, reaching out and gently grabbing his arm.

“Hey! It’s fine. I kicked him in the crotch.”

The man’s eyes switched from anger to surprise in a flash. He flustered for a moment, before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking back into the alley.

Y/N now took a closer look at his face. He had deep, wise brown eyes, a small five-o-clock shadow gracing his jaw, and very full lips, the latter of which he was biting profusely. Aw. He was nervous. But why?

Maybe because he was in an alley with a random girl who had just been groped at a club and he didn’t know what to do.

She chuckled, attempting to diffuse the tension.

“Um. I didn’t get your name?”

He smiled brightly, thankful for the change in topic.

“Oh! Of course, sorry. I’m Spencer!”

And Y/N braced herself for the telltale outstretching of the hand.

But none came. He simply stood there, one hand in his pocket and the other waving at her, a dopey smile on his face.

Her face lit up.

“You didn’t try to shake my hand,” she muttered, awed.

The man, Spencer, got an embarrassed look on his face, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry, I, uh. I’m a bit of a germaphobe. But, really, everyone should be! The amount of germs passed in a handshake is staggering. They really should be abolished altogether.”

“Right! People should just bow their heads or, or, wave!” she said excitedly, gesturing to his hand. “I mean a handshake is like a hug with a part of you that comes in contact with everything! Might as well go up to someone and start making out with them.”

As she spoke, his face lit up in wonder.

“Right? It’s crazy! But the thing is, some people actually do that! I was in that club for fifteen minutes and I swear I saw three couples leave together that definitely didn’t go in together.”

“I know!” she said, starting to pace in the cramped alley. “I mean, who goes home with someone that you just met! They could be a serial killer for all you know!”

She looked at Spencer and was delighted to see a joyful expression on his face. It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t introduced herself.

“I’m Y/N. Sorry for blabbering,” she waved, chuckling slightly.

Spencer smiled even wider.

“Don’t be sorry! Usually, I’m the one who has to apologize.”

“Apologize for what?”

“Blabbering,” he said sheepishly, hands back in his pockets. When he was talking, they had been moving about wildly. It was kind of endearing.

“I don’t know,” Y/N said, considering. “Blabbering is underrated. One could argue it’s the best way to learn useless information.”

“Well, I’d agree but no information is really useless.”

Y/N held up a finger.

“‘Information is useless if it is not applied to something important or if you will forget it before you have a chance to apply it.’”

Spencer’s mouth fell open.

“Timothy Harris?”

She nodded. “The 4-Hour Workweek. Outdated, but still applies.”

When she noticed his expression, it nearly knocked her breath away. He was looking at her like no one ever had before. Like he’d just realized the most important thing in the universe.

Before her cowardice could catch up, she took a step forward, closing the distance between them. His face went blank, shocked by the sudden approach. He nearly gasped when she spoke.

“It’s totally ridiculous to go home with someone you just met, right?”

Spencer’s eyes widened.

“Totally.”

“Why were you out tonight in the first place? You don’t exactly seem like the club-going type.”

He smiled softly.

“I, uh, just got a promotion last week. My friend Morgan wanted to take me out to celebrate. It was either this or karaoke.”

She chuckled softly, their faces so close he must have felt her breath.

“I don’t know, I’d have liked to see your rendition of Bad Romance. Has anyone ever told you you’ve got a whole Lady Gaga vibe?”

“You should see my Beyonce.” And he did a little mime of the Single Ladies dance, sending Y/N into a fit of giggles. Without thinking — probably due to the trace amounts of alcohol in her system, not enough to be drunk, but enough to be tipsy — she reached up her arms around his shoulders, clasping them together behind his neck like a teen slow-dancing at prom.

Spencer seemed startled by the sudden physical contact. He froze, hands unmoving at his sides.

Y/N pulled her arms back, stepping away from him, discouraged and embarrassed.

“Sorry,” she said, collecting herself and walking back towards the club door. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Wait!” he called before she could reenter the club. A tiny part of her let out a breath in relief. She turned around to see him with a hand outstretched toward her, frozen with the uncertainty of what to do next.

He recovered quickly, a blush visible on his cheeks in the lamplight of the alley.

“If you’re leaving, would you, um. Could I walk you home?”

She had no idea what possessed her in that moment but just as he spoke, she walked up to Spencer, threaded her fingers through his hair, and pulled him down into a passionate kiss.

To her surprise, he responded immediately, running his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against him, eagerly returning the kiss.

His lips were so warm. He tasted very faintly of alcohol and maybe a breath mint? Y/N let herself fall into the sensation.

Suddenly, her back was pressed up against the wall of the alley, Spencer’s hands lighting a trail of fire down her body. He hesitated, pulling back briefly to make sure she was ok.

A glint in her eye, she yanked him back down, tongues clashing together in a blaze of glory. He hiked her leg up around his hips, pressing them closer together. Y/N could feel the hardness in his pants pressing into her stomach, sending a wave of heat down to her core.

She pulled back. If they went any further, she didn’t know if she’d be able to leave the alley.

Y/N tried to hide the smile on her face but it was no use. She beamed at Spencer, linking her arm through his elbow.

“Lead the way. Wait, that doesn’t make sense, you’re taking me home. I’ll lead the way!”

And so they walked, arm in arm down the busy D.C. streets, silently enjoying each other’s company.

They arrived outside her apartment fifteen minutes later, Y/N clumsily unlocking the door, nervous from the thought of what was about to happen. They hadn’t explicitly said anything in particular. Was he going to come in? Would she invite him?

Spencer, it seemed, was also daunted, standing awkwardly on the threshold of her place, hands buried in his pockets.

An idea sprung into Y/N’s brain.

She approached him, wrapping her hands around his neck again only this time, his hands rested lightly on her waist.

“Still think going home with a stranger is a bad idea?”

Spencer chuckled softly, stroking the exposed skin of her waist from where her top had ridden up.

“I’m still debating it.”

“Oh?”

He slid his hand around the sash, fingers hovering above her chest.

“I never asked, how old did you turn?”

She smiled. For some reason, she felt she could trust this man. The worst that could happen was he calls the cops on her for having a fake ID. She could deal with that. Destroy the evidence, bat her eyes. Easy. Besides, he looked barely of age himself. She quickly wondered what he did for a living? He did say he got a promotion.

It would be easiest to just tell him the truth.

“I don’t know if I should tell you this…”

He chuckled lowly in her ear, moving his lips gently across her neck.

“I can handle it.”

She gasped at the sensation, legs clamping together.

“Officially, it’s my twenty-third. At least, that’s what it says on my ID. One of them.”

Spencer froze, waiting for her to go on.

Y/N quickly backtracked.

“It’s okay! I’m twenty! Not a minor, no worries.”

But Spencer pulled away, an extremely worried look on his face despite her assurance.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re underage.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah? Come on, by one year. What, you never had a fake ID?”

“No!” he said shrilly, running a hand through his hair.

“Spencer, it’s ok! It’s not like I’m gonna get caught. I look much older and when are there cops at a place like that?”

He reached into his pocket and fished out a folded wallet. Snapping it open, Y/N’s jaw dropped at the FBI badge with his picture in the corner.

She floundered for a moment, unable to truly comprehend what was happening.

“You’re . . .”

“Yep,” he said shortly, pocketing the badge.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much my reaction too,” he said, sighing. “I should arrest you.”

Y/N took a step back, incredulous.

“Arrest me?”

“You have a fake ID. You’re clearly drunk.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Great idea, Spencer. Book me. Take me down to the FBI and tell them exactly what happened to lead to you finding out I’m only twenty. I’m sure they’ll need very specific details.”

A look of realization flitted across Spencer’s face and he buried his head in his hands, groaning.

“How old are you anyway?!” she demanded, upset at him for being upset.

“Thirty-four!” he shouted, throwing his arms up in the air.

Oh shit.

This was bad.

He was fourteen years older than her, in the FBI, and probably was seconds away from arresting her.

“There’s no way you’re thirty-four. I mean, look at you!”

He rolled his eyes, snorting, and beginning to pace the small hallway.

“This is exactly what I get. I meet a girl I really like for the first time in years and she’s decades younger than me. And a criminal!”

“Hey!” she said, shoving his shoulder. “Not decades. I’m not a criminal. And how the hell do you think I feel? I’m out trying to have fun on my birthday, some guy gropes me leading me to run into the perfect man, take him back to my apartment thinking I’m gonna get lucky only to find out he’s a cop who’s gonna arrest me. Best birthday ever.”

Spencer eyed her carefully.

“Get lucky?”

Y/N’s eyes went wide. Shit. She hadn’t meant to reveal that part. Even though it was pretty obvious, something about it not being said added to the excitement.

“Did you really . . . I mean were you…. Um.” Spencer seemed to lose all authoritative tone suddenly, stammering nervously. It was such a 180, it shocked Y/N.

“Was I going to let you fuck me?”

He cringed at the bluntness but nodded sheepishly.

“Yeah, Spencer. I was.” She scoffed. “Honestly, I still would. But I understand if I’m more than you can handle,” she said coyly, trying to keep a straight face. “Just please don’t arrest me, Sir.”

His expression darkened at her words. Something deep and lustful behind it. Feeling bold, she went with it.

“Or is it Agent?” she cocked her head, holding a finger to her lips in thought. “How do I address you properly, sir?”

A small groan left Spencer’s mouth and he stepped forward, brushing a hand over her hair.

“We shouldn’t do this, Y/N…”

Slowly, she backed up into her apartment, pulling him with her.

“We shouldn’t.” She gently led him to her bedroom, sitting down on the edge of the bed, him towering over her. “To be fair, you’re the one with handcuffs.”

He groaned again, wiping a hand down his face.

“This is a bad idea.”

But he crouched down in front of her, pressing his forehead to her exposed knee, breathing deeply.

“Spencer,” it was barely a whisper but he met her eyes instantly. She smiled gently, reaching out to him and coaxing him up from the floor so he was hovering above her, mouths inches apart. “Listen, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” she assured him. “But I want this.”

She leaned back, pulling him with her so he was lying atop her, an obvious bulge pressing against her through their clothing.

“I want this, Spencer.”

Y/N hoped that he knew he could leave if he wanted. She didn’t want to pressure him into anything. Despite the age difference, she seemed to be the one more in control.

Spencer lowered his head, sighing.

“Fuck,” he moaned, lightly thrusting against her, a moan escaping her mouth at the contact.

That seemed to be the last straw.

He sat up, ripping his sweater vest off along with his button-down, quickly moving back over her, lips latching to her neck and chest.

Oh thank god. She wasn’t sure if she’d have been able to stand it if he’d left. But from the way he was touching her, hands moving up and down her sides, gently pulling her skirt down, looking up at her every now and then to make sure it was alright, he wasn’t going anywhere.

She just spurred him on, stripping off her top and bra, now only wearing her panties.

Spencer groaned at the sight, a hand reaching up, hovering over her breast. She arched her back up into his hand, letting out a gasp as he started to fondle her.

God, his hands were huge. And nimble. Oh, so nimble.

She reached for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and tossing it across the room, pushing his pants down faster than possible.

He groaned again, a magical sound, reaching a hand down to stroke her through her panties, coaxing a gasp from her beautiful lips.

In a flash, Spencer had pulled down her panties and buried his head between her legs.

Y/N gasped, hand flying to the back of his head, edging him on.

He slipped two fingers into her, his tongue flicking against her clit wildly, making her writhe and moan on the bed, gasping his name.

“Spencer, Spencer.” It took all the resolve she had to pull his head away from her. “I need you to fuck me.”

Spencer looked at her, trying to read her expression.

“Y/N . . . are you sure?”

Rather than answer, she yanked him up, crashing their mouths together, one hand quickly pushing down his boxers, his erection springing free.

Good god.

Wow.

How the hell was she supposed to fit that inside her?

She looked up at him, impressed, only to see a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Well,” she said, kicking off the panties pooled around her ankles, laid bare underneath the stranger on top of her. “This night gets better by the second.”

His size was a little daunting, but the thought of him slowly filling her up, probably not being able to fit all the way in, only added to her desire.

He dipped his head down, stealing a quick yet passionate kiss.

“Do you have . . ?”

“Yeah, in the drawer.”

He reached over, grabbed a condom, and rolled it on. It looked extremely tight on him. Y/N unconsciously licked her lips. Spencer chuckled.

“Maybe next time. I need to be inside you.”

And with that, he flung her legs around his hips, positioning his cock at her entrance, slowly running it up and down, moistening the condom with her juices.

God. The feeling of him being so close and yet so far was almost enough to push her over the edge right there. He had been a god with his tongue and she was desperate for more friction.

Reaching down, she lightly circled her clit, moaning at the instant pleasure.

Before she could enjoy it much, hands gripped her wrists, pinning them above her on the bed, Spencer staring at her with a dark look.

“If you wanna touch yourself, you have to ask permission. Understood?”

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

Words escaped her so she settled for a small nod.

“Use your words.”

His tone was so commanding the word left her mouth the moment he finished speaking.

“Yes.”

He lightly placed his hand around her neck, not applying any pressure, just hovering.

“Yes, what?”

Fuck. She wondered if it was possible to come just from being talked to.

“Yes, sir.”

And with that, he slid inside her, slowly filling her up with his length, moaning roughly at the sensation.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open, watching as Spencer’s face tightened, jawline even sharper, and a dark look in his eye. He carefully applied a bit more pressure to her throat, quickly releasing his hand afterward.

They were both still as she adjusted to the size of him inside her.

“Is this ok?” his voice sounded so different than it had a moment ago. He had shifted back to the geeky guy she’d met in the alley.

She nodded gently at him, running a hand over his cheek in a way that was surely far too personal for a one night stand.

“My safeword is apple.”

He froze for a moment, shocked. Apparently she was kinkier than he’d expected.

Tired of not being fucked by this man, she dug her heels into his back, directing him to move.

He did without hesitation, groaning at the sensation of slowly pulling out and thrusting back in.

The feeling overwhelmed both of them, a litany of curses and moans falling from their mouths. Spencer’s hand moved back to her throat, squeezing much harder now that he knew what to listen for if she wanted to stop.

The sound of her moaning was enough to make him come right there and then. That, with the feeling of her around him and the fact that his hand was around her throat, totally in control.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”

Oh my god, where was this coming from? Her nails scraped down his back, leaving a trail of marks.

“You like feeling me fuck you?” he wrapped a hand around her leg, pulling it higher to try to hit the magical spot inside of her. “You like when I wrap my hand around your pretty little neck? Showing you how in control I am of you.”

She nodded ecstatically, legs tightening around him. She was definitely close to coming.

“What were you thinking? Going to a bar when you’re underage. Then leading a stranger to your home, intending to let him fuck you silly. Finding out I’m ages older than you and still practically begging me to bend you over and pound you till you can’t see straight. Is the age difference what gets you off, Y/N?”

At the sound of her name, she let out a raucous moan, no doubt waking up the other tenants of the building.

Spencer smiled, drilling harder and tightening his grip on her throat.

“Oh, you like it when I say your name? You like when I shove my big cock in you and moan your name in your ear?”

She practically screamed as his hand started to circle her clit, the stimulation practically knocking the air out of her.

He was hitting her g-spot with every thrust, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She was so close. She just needed….

“You gonna come for me, Y/N?” he punctuated it with a particularly hard thrust, feeling her begin to clench around him, orgasm washing over her.

Her walls tightening around his cock was enough to send him barreling over the edge, grunting as he thrust in her four more times before feeling his balls tighten up and spill his seed deep inside her.

“Fuck,” he grunted, using his forearms to stay above her, both of them completely out of breath.

Slowly, he pulled out with a sigh, discarding the condom in the trash by her bed.

Y/N was seeing stars. This man had just given her her first penetrative orgasm. And, possibly the best sex she’d ever had.

‘Fuck’, was right.

Spencer flopped down next to her, still naked, trying to catch his breath.

Y/N turned to him, placing a hand on his chest.

It was strange. Even though they’d just had some of the best sex Y/N had ever had, she didn’t even know this man. And yet, somehow, she felt like she did. Did that happen a lot once you had sex with someone?

Her eyes refocused from where they’d been staring off into space to see a concerned Spencer looking at her.

“What?” she asked.

He studied her for another moment before speaking.

“You were biting your lip.”

A blush crept up her cheek.

“Yeah sorry. Helps me think.”

He let out a sharp breath, a sort of soft laugh.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said as he retrieved his underwear, slipping them back on and starting to button up his shirt.

Oh. Was he going to leave? Of course he was! That’s all this was, anyway. A one night stand. You had sex. That was the point.

Then why did it feel like hell?

“You okay?”

Her thoughts had drifted into space again. Spencer had laid back down, now on his side facing her, holding her hand, looking at her intensely. His gaze was practically burning.

“Yeah.”

“I, uh, I don’t normally do . . . that.”

She chuckled. It was rather obvious he wasn’t the hookup type. Despite the dirty things that had come from his mouth.

“Me either.”

He softly stroked her cheek.

“Are you going to stay?” she blurted.

His face fell.

“Oh, no I wasn’t going to impose if you-”

“NO! I mean,” she took a breath. “I want you to . . . I mean, if you want . . . I'd . . . I’d like you to stay. If you want?”

God. She sounded like a teenager asking their crush to prom. This was no stuttering sophomore she could kick in the crotch if he said no. He was a man. Although, he did tend to stutter. Maybe it wasn’t all that different.

He lit up, a wide smile brightening his features and he began to stroke her hand.

“I’d like that too.”

Wondering if it was possible for cheeks to sprain from smiling, she pulled up the covers, cuddling up against him, falling asleep almost immediately.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Ugh. The stupid alarm. She had been right in the middle of a wonderful dream involving Spencer’s hands and her bruised throat.

What time was it anyway?

The red clock radio proudly displayed: 7:00.

Right, it was the first day of classes. Maybe she’d just ditch and stay in with Spencer. He had been so warm she was sure he had a sun where a heart should be. College didn’t matter anyway, right? Ugh.

A shiver ran through her. She reached out for Spencer, only to find the cold other half of the bed.

Sitting up in bed, she stared at the empty spot.

Had he really walked out on her in the middle of the night? No…. No? Fuck. How could she be so stupid. Of course he didn’t want to-

Oh, he’d left a note.

In a fast yet tidy scrawl, Spencer had left the following message on a little notecard.

Good morning! I am truly sorry to walk out like this, but I have a class at 7:30 and I have to stop by my place and get ready. I’ll be back at the bar tonight, 10:30. I’d love to see you there.

-Spencer. X

Her heart melted into an ocean at the sentiment behind each individual letter. The man she’d just had a dirty one night stand with wanted to see her again.

Wait, he’d said a class? He hadn’t told her he was a student! To be fair, neither had she. That’s another thing they had in common apparently. It made sense why he didn’t tell her. A lot of people were ashamed of going back to college later in life. She thought that was ridiculous. Good for him.

Maybe she could look him up in the student registry. Actually, he may not even go to Georgetown. There were plenty of colleges nearby. She couldn’t have looked him up anyway. She didn’t even know his last name.

It was probably a good thing he left, because she, too, had a class at 7:30.

It only took her twenty minutes to shower, get dressed, and walk the very short distance to campus.

She arrived in the lecture hall with exactly one minute to spare, finding a seat next to a brightly dressed redhead holding a fuzzy pen.

“Hi! I’m Allie.”

“Y/N,” she said, suppressing the cringe as Allie reached out to shake her hand.

“Nice to meet you! What’s your major?”

Oh god. The inevitable college question.

“Journalism. You?”

“English,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Super boring I know, but it lets me take fun classes like this one. Why are you taking this class?”

“Oh, um. It looked fun, I guess. My dad was a lawyer and he kind of piqued my interest in the criminal justice system.”

Allie sighed.

“Thank god. You know half the girls are here just because the Professor is a hottie,” she said with air quotes, rolling her eyes again.

“Really?” Y/N asked, glancing around at the seats noticing the vast majority of the population were women. “Wait, I thought Ms. Merklins was the teacher? Did something change?”

“You didn’t get the email? It just went out the other day, Ms. Merklins had to retire. Something about a club foot. Anyway, the new teacher is supposedly super overqualified. Plus, he’s cute.”

“Huh.”

“Yep. I talked to this one girl in the hall, she actually said she’d sleep with him! Can you imagine?”

Y/N laughed.

“Nooooo. I cannot and I don’t want to. I’m just here to learn, I promise.”

“Same here. Although, if I start getting C’s, all bets are off.”

Y/N laughed and politely chatted with Allie while they waited.

The Professor’s office door swung open and Y/N reached into her bag to get her laptop.

“Hello, class.”

“Hello,” the class echoed.

“Welcome to Criminology. I am Professor Reid and I-.”

Y/N looked up over her screen as he stopped talking, making sudden eye-contact with the Professor.

She froze in her seat, blood running cold.

No way. No fucking way.

Spencer?

TAGLIST

@whollytaciturn @101donuts @thegingerfairchild @safertokiss @happyiidiot @cielo1984 @thupidalethea @darkacademiacherry @matthewreid @aloha-ashley-taylor @justchiara-02 @spnobsessedmemes @sweet-darlin @matthewreid

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #smut

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vagrantblvrd · 5 years

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Burnsey for the nit!fic prompt?

The live action part of the heist videos crack me up but the newer ones are doubly hilarious because they’re always shoved into some tiny space that clearly isn’t meant for heist planning, you know?

So, like.

FAHC AU where Geoff and Burnie met way back when before the Fakes made it big and all that.

Geoff is some small-time criminal who’s doing well enough for himself that he can afford a halfway decent place to live.

Burnie’s been with LSPD for a few years now, has money saved up to get a somewhat decent place to live too.

Unbeknownst to one another they’re both interested in this place, right?

Decent-ish neighborhood with a few small businesses operating out of the same building and not ideal for most people, but neither of them are all that picky at the time, right? Don’t know they’re going through the same realtor or whatever and there’s a showing or whatever.

Burnie finds the place after getting turned around a time or two, apologizes to the receptionist in one of the businesses and she’s like, “No worries, happens all the time,” and points him in the right direction.

Geoff – gets turned around and meets a receptionist having a shit day so his experience is less friendly and helpful and he walks into the right place muttering to himself, right? Not paying attention and he literally bumps into Burnie out of all the best romcom meet-cutes that ever meet-cuted.

Only in this instance, Geoff is a wanted criminal and Burnie is diligent enough at his job he clearly recognizes him.

There’s this oh, shit moment for both of them – along with suspicion and paranoia because what are the fuckin’ odds they’d run into one another like this, right?

Burnie’s off-duty and Geoff’s playing average civilian and the whatnot, but still!

Mortal Enemies.

(Because reasons?)

Before either of them can react the realtor shows up, this sweet little old lady who’s a little forgetful but super adorable and all that. (Reminds them of their own grandmothers, you know?)

They freeze because like hell do either of them want to drag her into this mess, get her hurt, and also she’s totally oblivious to the whole Mortal Enemies thing going on over her head.

There’s this unspoken understanding to not start shit with her there, but!

Burnie can’t bring himself to just up and leave – no knowing what dastardly crime Geoff might commit he does. (And also, that asshole is totally laughing at him and like hell is he going to let him win…or something.)Geoff is just like. Totally laughing at the idiot cop – maybe they’ve run into one another before this while Geoff’s criminal-ing, right? And Burnie practically seething about not being able to arrest him or whatever because is hilarious as shit and he spends the whole time the realtor shows them around annoying the hell out of Burnie.

Neither of them get the place – tell the realtor they’ll think about it knowing they won’t. (Talk about terrible idea, okay. A criminal knowing where a cop lives is a recipe for disaster and vice versa for a cop knowing where a criminal lives.)

But!

It turns into a Thing between them, or rather Geoff turns it into a Thing.

First it’s just something to taunt Burnie about those early days just to ruffle Burnie’s feathers, but they keep running into one another. Either in the middle of Geoff being a criminal and Burnie trying to bring him in, and sometimes when they’re both off the clock, so to speak.

Turns into an inside joke between them as time goes by and they become – not friends, because wow, no, just.

Something.

The taunting and teasing goes from being cutting, mean to something softer. (Flirty, some might say.)

Burnie helps clear Geoff’s name when someone tries to pin a crime on him he didn’t actually commit that might have fucked him over a few times. (He wants Geoff behind bars, sure, but for the right reasons and all that?)

And Geoff does the same for Burnie when some asshole is trying to make him look like a crooked cop. (He’s an asshole, but he’s not on the take, okay?)

They save each other’s lives at least once, because of course they do and eventually their closest friends realize they’re the only two people in all of Los Santos who doesn’t realize they’re totally in love. (Like. It’s sad, really.)

But anyway, anyway, all that’s backstory, okay?

Setting up the whole Thing where the Fakes are a Big Deal and Burnie makes police commissioner and they’re both stupidly in love with one another and annoyed about it? (Still assholes after all these years and ridiculous with it.)

Burnie’s made major strides in cleaning up the LSPD and rooting out crooked cops and politicians.

Geoff and his asshole crew are more of Robin Hood and his merry band (but like, more assholish about it because come on.)

Geoff’s started this tradition with the crew that whenever they plan a heist they borrow an office or storage room or whatever to do it at police HQ. (Because he lives for making Burnie’s life a misery when he can, okay. One of life’s small pleasures and all that.)

Brazen as anything, they waltz on in and go to town planning their heists knowing Burnie will find out and be absolutely furious because what kind of idiots are they?

Either they go in wearing disguises and IDs where no one knows anything until they leave? OR they just decide that is a day they give no fucks and are all but daring whoever they run into to do something about it. (The shock of the Fakes being that goddamned ballsy about things buys them time to get the hell out before the shooting starts.)

But also?

The cops or whoever else working there are just like, fuck, because this weird way of flirting Geoff and Burnie have is super ridiculous at this point.

And to be fair, the two of them have totally had dinner dates and the whatnot over the years even if neither of them would call them that.

…Well, Geoff might, because he’s a bastard. Burnie just calls it Geoff being a pain in his side all this time.

(Burnie thinking he’s going to be meeting with an Informant or something, right? Arranging a table at some restaurant or a booth at a bar somewhere and nervous because what if the wrong people catch him at it? Enemies who’d put him down without a thought or someone looking to paint him as just another slick-talking cop on the take.

Just about to walk out because the anonymous source he’s supposed to meet with obviously bailed on him and then that asshole Geoff plops himself down across the table or booth from Burnie. Smirk on his face as he grabs a menu or calls one of the waitstaff over and Burnie is like “Oh, you fucker,” realizing he’s been had again -

And Geoff – still smirking – tells him he has no idea what’s got Burnie so riled up and then proceeds to rile him up even more.

Waits until Burnie’s about to lose his shit before letting him know that Geoff was his informant all along, or the Fakes picked Burnie’s source up because hey Did they know someone put a price on the poor fuckers head?

Lot of zeros attached and if Ryan wasn’t on one of his murder breaks Burnie would be shit out of luck, but as it is, the Fakes have Burnie’s source hidden away for safekeeping.

Also, does Burnie recommend anything on the menu or should Geoff just go with the house special?

And other encounters along those lines and honestly, honestly, the two of them are so married it’s kind of sickening.)

Anyway, anyway, when words gets to Burnie the Fakes did it again, he storms right on down to give Geoff a piece of his mind, you know?

The others left a long time ago, but Geoff’s still hanging around.

Either kicking back with his feet up on the conference table or ~ambushing Burnie in an empty hallway to give him that crooked little grin of his that’s always more of a smirk and “Hey, asshole, long time no see,” and Burnie’s is just so >:(((((((((((((((((( because Jesus Christ, Geoff.

Breaking into police HQ in the middle of the day for goddamned shenanigans? AGAIN?

Geoff just >:DDDDDDD because yes, and also, Burnie’s cops people are real dumb, and – again – hey.

(Burnie’s people – the ones loyal to him and his ~cause aren’t, really. Just resigned to the Fakes and their antics and this whole Thing between Burnie and Geoff everyone knows about but damned if they know what to do about it, you know?)

And then maybe a smooch – stolen, of course, because Geoff’s a notorious criminal and stealing is what he does – and this little smile and soft sigh from Burnie because what the hell is he going to do with this asshole?

(He finds a slip of paper in his pocket later, when he’s up in his office and Geoff’s long gone. Dinner reservations at this place they like and so on and Burnie just sighs again because it’s as good of an answer as anything else.)

#burnsey #geoof/burnie #i still dont know what the shop name for them is???#ragehappy #prompt fills #vagrant fic #Anon #hey look guys #finally getting around to prompts #\o/#XD #Anonymous #technically not a fic

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sometimes-i-write-4-you · 6 years

Text

Siren valentine's (pt. 1)- Dean Winchester x reader

I was hoping to finish before valentine's, but i have my senior production (i'm majoring in theater) so i never got the chance. Here's part 1, i'll post the rest when i'll finish this fic.

Sitting alone at a coffee shop was one of the things you hated the most, especially on valentine's Day. Everyone were in couples, and you were sitting with your computer and headphones on, pretending to work. The couples around you made you uncomfortable with all their kissing and touching, so you focused on the sound of your favorite album. You heard a feminine voice wishing a happy valentine’s day, and turned up the volume. As the last song came to an end, you packed your things and left the coffee shop.

You arrived to the office you worked at. Being a secretary was not your dream job, but this company paid well and it was safe, safer then being an actor like you always wanted.

“... Ben’s Coffee shop is now a crime scene” the reporter said, and the name of the coffee shop you went to this morning caught your attention. “What the fuck?” You muttered to yourself, focusing on the tv. “The place is filled with bodies, all are bleeding from their ears. Another interesting fact about the bodies, all create a heart shape once you look at them from above” the reporter continued. You were completely shocked to see that, as you were there half an hour ago and everything was fine. You texted your roommate you're fine, since you knew she'd be worried sick if she saw this.

For the rest of the day you felt weird, you were so confused about what happened in Ben's Coffee Shop. Ben was such a nice guy, he didn't deserve to die, there is no sense to this situation - why would anyone kill the people there? Sure, they were annoyingly cléshe, but that's not a reason to commit mass murder.

-time skip-

You got home, finally. You started to cook some pasta. You blasted some music you liked. Your roommate worked late, so you had the entire flat to yourself. She hated “Kansas”, so you took advantage of the fact she wasn't there to listen to your favorite album, “Leftovers”".

“Carry on my wayward son, for there'll be peace when you are gone” you sang along. You emptied the pot through a strainer “Don't you cry no mooooore” you returned to singing. The knocks on the door were right on the beats, so you almost didn't notice them. Once you realized the knockings were not a part of the song, you ran to the door and looked through the mesh. Two guys in suites were standing there, looking seriously at the mesh, therefore at your eye. You opened the door, and they looked at you. “Hello, miss (l/n), I am agent Mike Brown, and this is my partner Nick Williams” one of them said, both pulling an FBI id card. He had apple-green eyes, dark blond-ish hair and some facial hair. He was handsome, definitely. The other guy was just as pretty, but in a different way. His hair was longer, and in a brown shade that went well with his blue eyes. You smiled at them. “Uh, hi. How can i help you?” you asked. “First of all, can wear come inside?” Nick asked. You nodded and moved, letting them in. They both sat on the couch. “Never thought i'd ask someone to turn off “Kansas”, but we have a couple of questions regarding this morning, so can you..” he asked, motioning pressing on a remote. “Oh, yes, sure” you said, and grabbed the remote from the desk. “Water?” You asked as you turned off the music. You felt your heart breaking over the missed opportunity. “Yes, thank you, miss (l/n)” Nick smiled. “How 'bout you, agent…” you paused, trying to remember, “Brown, right?”. He nodded, “yes on the name and the water”.

You took your ball of pasta and sat down. “So, why are you here, agents?” You asked. They both sigh. “This morning, you were at Ben's Coffee Shop, right?” The one you thought was Mike said, although his real name is dean. You nodded. “Well, miss-” “please, call me (y/n)” you cut him off. He looked over at his partner, Nick, or at least so you thought. He was actually looking at his brother, sam. “Ok then, (y/n). Everyone who were there are now dead, but you seem pretty alive to me. Care to explain?” He asked. His words caught you in the middle of taking a bite. You looked at him surprised, “are you saying i did it?!” You said, putting down the pasta bowl. “Well, you are alive and they're not, and i hate to say that, cause you have a great taste in music, but-” Mike replied, but Nick cut him off. “What my partner is trying to say, is that we want to know what happened when you were there. Can you please tell us?”. As he talked, Mike sipped his water to calm down. “Well, i was there, drinking my coffee and listening to music. It was full of those lovey-dovey couple, which was insanely annoying. Not kill-them annoying, just like- nevermind, anyway, i finished listening to my favourite album and then left. A normal visit to a coffee place on a valentine’s day” you said. Mike looked at you and sighed, “nothing else?” He asked, “anything, even if it seems irrelevant”. “Well, there was this lady, i think. She wished everyone a happy valentine's. Once she got on the stage, i raised the volume to max, so i don't know what happened next, it happened like… fifteen minutes before i left, i think” you said. Mike gave Nick a certain type of a look that made you feel like it was important. “Well, (y/n), thank you for your help. If you remember anything else, like what she looked like or anything…” Mike said, “give us a call”. He pulled a card from his pocket. “Okay” you said slowly, taking the card from him. Nick finished his cup of water as Mike spoke, and the handsome agents left your place. You closed the door behind them and as you were pressed play, letting the music distract you from the awful situation, but the suspicious look Mike gave his partner bothered you too much, so you did what anyone would do, and left your house. You catched up to them quickly enough, and got to hear their conversation.

“so, dean, do you think what i'm thinking?” Nick asked. Wait, Dean? His name was mike, he said so, and the card says so, right? You looked at the card. Henry? Who's Henry?

“That this girl was really hot?” the guy who apparently named Dean said. “Be serious, Dean” Nick said, although now you weren't so sure about whether it is his real name or not. “I am very serious, Sammy” Dean said. Oh, of course. They lied about their names. If they lied about that, what else did they lie about? God, what did you let inside your house. “Dean!” Sam insisted, and Dean sighed. “Yes, Sam. If you think it's a siren situation” Dean replied. “It makes sense, yes. I mean, this (y/n) girl is fone, cause she didn't hear the singing. It takes a siren about 15 minutes to infect people using only her voice, she left right on time. Everyone we're dying right behind here” Sam said. “what the fack?”. The words came out of your mouth louder than you expected. “Dean…” Sam muttered, and his head was pointing at you. A part of you wanted to hide, but the other part of you wanted answers. As you debated what to do next, the deep voice you thought belonged to a Mike Brown said “god dammit, (y/n)”.

Well, answers it is. “Heyyy” you said awkwardly, smiling at them and approaching, “so. Sam, Dean, care to explain what thE FUCK?” You said, your voice getting louder as you go. “Well, i see you heard our names. Great. Sam?” Dean said, looking at his partner. “Uh, yeah. We are Sam and Dean and we are..” Sam started, but you cut him off. “Not real FBI agents? Unless FBI stands for…. I don't know, fake-” you started. “we are not FBI” Dean said. “Jesus Christ, what have i let into my house? Regina is going to kill me-” “then don't tell her” Dean cut you off once again. “well, if you're not FBI, then who the fuck are you?” You ask. “We're hunters. We hunt. Monsters” Sam says. The look Dean gave him was a sort of death glare you've never seen before. “What?” You replied, staring at them with your eyes wide open. “Ya'know. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, demons. That type of crap” Dean said. You felt so weird. What they said was crazy. Impossible. But they looked so calm, and there was no sign of them lying - no nose itches, no looking left. But on the other hand, they didn't look like they're lying to you a second ago, but that turned out to be lies. You looked straight into Dean's eyes. “Okay. I'm going to ask once again. Who the fuck are you and what the fuck are you doing here?” The words came out of your mouth so smoothly, and the fear was barely heard through. He looked right into your eyes. “We are Sam and Dean Winchester, Brothers and hunters. We are here because of the freaky death this morning” he said. Sam looked back and forth at you and Dean. The eye contact was intense. You were mad, he was upset. “Fine” you sigh, “i believe you. You two may be good liers, but there is no reason you'd make this crazy shit up. So how can i help?”. Dean and Sam both look at you like your crazy. “You want to help us? Not run back to your place and drink every alcoholic beverage you can find?” Dean apoke first. You nodded, “i mean, if i'll say i'm not going to drink over this, it's a lie. But innocent people are dying, and my life as a secretary are too boring for me. If i have a shot at an adventure, i'm definitely taking it” you replied. “Well…” Sam started, and looked at Dean, “maybe there's something you can do”.

“Sam, are you crazy? She is not a hunter! She cant-” Dean started, but Sam cuts him off. “she’s gonna be with you, Dean” he sighed. “We can't put her life on the line like that, Sammy” Dean insisted, and this time it was your turn to say something. “Dean, i don't care. It's a good plan, and i trust you. I'll have ear plugs so i won't hear the siren and-” you started, but stopped once Dean gave you a strange look. “Fine” he said, “but we gotta train you a little bit first”. Before you had a chance to reply, he grabbed your wrist, and as an instinct you pulled your arm up, facing your palm like a mirror and with the free hand you twisted his wrist and kicked his crotch. You only realised you did that when a scream escaped Dean's mouth. “Oh my god, sorry. I'm so, so sorry. It's an instinct” you said, giving him a small smile, “i'll get you some ice, and-” you said, going to the kitchen. “-and you can, uh, put it where i hit you” you said awkwardly, giving him the bag of ice you had on your fridge. “You mean my fucking-” he started, but Sam cuts him off. “Well you don't seem to need self defence training. How are with guns?” He asked. You started at him. “Guns?”. “Yes, you know, we need to fight freaking monsters. You can't just kick their-” “Dean! A girl beat you, get over that and let's continue” Sam cuts him off once again. “Well, my dad always wanted me to go hunt with him. Not the same things you hunt, but i can use a gun. Kind of. I was never good at it. I aimed for the center, hit the right corner, aimed for the right corner hit the center” you shared, and Dean looked at you, still mad. “Well then, aim for the right corer, darling” he smiled. You rolled your eyes. “What? We've been dating for a few months and we are going to celebrate tonight”. “(Y/n), you never told me you have a boyfriend” your roommate said as she walked into the room.“It's cause i don't” you replied as she hugged you. “Then who are these two pretty boys?” She asked. “Belle, these are…” you paused. You weren't sure what are you supposed to tell her. “FBI, i'm agent Brown, he is agent Williams. Your friend here was just giving us the details of today's morning at the coffee shop known as Ben’s Coffee Shop” Dean said. “Then what is it about the two of you dating. And why do you have a bag of ice on your-” Belle wondered out loud. “It's a long story, Belle” you cut her off. “Well then, i leave you here and take some food to my room” she said. Once she closed the door behind her, you felt terrible. “I can't believe i'm hiding something from her. We've been best friends for years, i never hide things from her” you said quietly. “It’s for the best, love” Dean said with a cocky smile. “We are not on our fake date yet, Love” you returned, smiling. “Guys, keep the flirting for later, okay?” sam said. “I'm not-” you started, but Sam ignored you and kept talking. “So let's just go over the plan one more time. You two are going on a date where she'll perform. We just need to find out where is it and when” Sam summarized the plan. “And how are we gonna do that?” You asked. Sam sat next to your open computer and googled “Ben's coffee Shop”. He opened the facebook page and there it was. “This valentine's Day, Sierra Stone is coming to perform at 9:00-9:30 for every one who needs to go to work and can't have a nice dinner with their significant other” Sam read out loud the post, and then proceeded to google her name. “Tonight at Tony's. It's a bar not too far from here. (Y/n), you better get ready cause it's 30 minitus away and starts at 22:00 Sam said. “so will Dean pick me up at 21:15? We should take some time to set up or maybe like, there will be traffic and-” “yes” Dean cuts you off, “you have an hour, use it”. You nodded, “don't worry”.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #supernatural x reader #supernatural

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