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incognit0slut · 3 months

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Much Ado About Nothing (Act III, Scene I: The Fake Dating)

It doesn’t occur to you how serious the situation has become until you're forced to sign your fake relationship on paper.

Part warning: none, this might be the slowest burn I have ever written Words: 2.4k A/n: The original plan was to update this series twice a week, but I overestimated myself, so I will be posting each Thursday around this time. I hope you understand <3

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Spencer wasn’t sure how he would go through with this. The idea seemed simple enough on the surface—pretend to date, fool everyone, and finally find peace. Yet, the more he thought about it, the more complex it became, and the more complicated it was, the more crazy it seemed.

This was not what he had signed up for when he joined the BAU. Chasing criminals? Sure. Analyzing behavioral patterns? Absolutely. But pretending to date you to avoid the relentless meddling from his friends? Insane wasn't a strong enough word for it. It was ludicrous.

And even that word wasn’t enough. It was downright preposterous. How had rational, analytical work turned into this bizarre social experiment? Yet, here he was, ready to play his part even when he couldn’t ignore the absurdity of it all.

“Well, well, well.” Spencer looked up to see you walking from the opposite direction, both of you stopping right at the entrance of the bureau’s expansive building. “If it isn’t my new boyfriend.”

He narrowed his eyes. Why did you seem… so normal about this? Weren’t you the one who hated his guts? Weren’t you the one who avoided him every time you had the chance? Were you really that desperate to get the team off your back?

“What? You’re not going to greet your girlfriend?”

He forced a smile, trying to hide his irritation. “Good morning,” he replied curtly, opening the door for you.

You walked past him, and Spencer tried not to stare at you, but it was impossible to ignore the way your hair shone under the morning sun or how your perfume subtly filled the air as you brushed by him. He cleared his throat and followed you inside, wondering how long he could keep up this act without losing his sanity.

“We need some ground rules,” he muttered, nodding towards security as you both passed through the entrance.

You raised an eyebrow. “Ground rules? You mean besides pretending to be madly in love?”

“We are not in love. We just started dating,” Spencer said, pressing the elevator button. “So no spontaneous public displays of affection. We don’t want to overdo it.”

“What’s your definition of overdoing it?”

Spencer waited until the elevator doors slid shut, giving you a little privacy. "No touching. Especially no hand-holding," he stated firmly.

You scoffed. "Who on earth wouldn't want to hold their girlfriend's hand?"

He replied without missing a beat. "Do you know how many germs are transferred when you hold hands? An average of 3,000 bacteria from 150 different species, not to mention the potential viruses.”

“Wow, remind me to never shake hands with you during flu season.”

He shrugged. “I’m just stating the facts.”

“Okay, germaphobe,” you deadpanned, leaning back against the elevator wall. “What’s acceptable then? A nod from across the room? Morse code blinking?”

He considered for a moment, then offered a compromise, “How about an arm around your shoulder when we’re sitting? Or a quick side hug?”

“Side hug,” you echoed, mockingly horrified. “How romantic. Our friends will believe we’re madly in love for sure.”

“We are not in love.”

“So you’ve mentioned,” you replied dryly, standing straight again and turning toward him. “Can we at least try to look like a couple who actually like each other?”

That was the problem. You both didn’t like each other. “Fine,” he sighed. “What do you suggest?”

You paused, considering the best way to make this look believable. “How about you hold onto my waist from behind as we walk? It’s a common gesture, and it looks natural.”

Spencer blinked, taken aback by the suggestion. “Hold your waist? As in, really close?”

“Yes, Reid, that’s generally where the waist is located.”

He frowned at you. “That sounds a bit too… personal, don’t you think?”

“Isn’t that the whole point? To convince them we’re a couple?”

He hesitated, the image of his hands on your waist flashing through his mind. He suddenly imagined the warmth of your body against his, the subtle, pleasant scent of your perfume enveloping him. He could almost feel the way you’d be tucked right to his side, your height fitting perfectly against him, your head nestled just below his chin.

His heart unexpectedly started to race. The idea of holding you that close, feeling the rise and fall of your breath, the slight brush of your hair against his cheek—it was almost too intimate, too real. And he didn’t want to acknowledge that. He wasn’t sure if he could trust himself to play the role convincingly without his emotions betraying him.

“Reid?”

Spencer snapped out of his thoughts, realizing he had been silent for too long. You were watching him impatiently.

“You know what? Do whatever you want.” You turned away, facing the elevator door, clearly frustrated by his hesitation. “Just stand there like a statue for all I care.”

His eyes slowly fell to your waist, considering his options... Maybe it wasn’t that bad. The idea of his hand resting there, guiding you, didn’t seem as unbearable as he initially imagined. The gesture seemed innocent enough. Not too much, not too little. What could possibly go wrong?

Everything, apparently. Because it happened all at once.

One, he reached his hand toward you.

Two, the elevator door swung open.

And three, as you started to move forward, his hand managed to slip before it landed onto your ass.

You shrieked at the top of your lungs.

"Reid!"

Spencer's face turned red as he quickly retrieved his hand, stammering, "I-I'm sorry! That wasn't—"

But he wasn’t fast enough, because standing on the other side of the elevator door was Derek, witnessing the whole thing. His eyebrows shot up, and a slow grin spread across his face.

"What do we have here?” Derek drawled, crossing his arms. "Spencer Reid, getting a little too friendly?"

Spencer's mortification deepened as he tried to explain, "It's not what it looks like, I swear!"

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. "Sure, pretty boy. Whatever you say." He stepped to the side. “Well, aren’t you two lovebirds going to get to work?”

Trying to recover from the embarrassment, Spencer nodded quickly, his face still burning. He guided you out of the elevator with a brief, cautious touch on your back that stayed strictly in the safe zone.

You both hurried toward the glass doors, leaving Derek laughing behind you. You slightly leaned closer to him. “I could sue you for sexual harassment, you know.”

“It was an accident! You moved too quickly.”

“Sure, blame it on me,” you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you pushed through the glass doors ahead of him.

Spencer quickened his pace to keep up, matching your brisk walk. “I am blaming it on you. This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t suddenly decided to move forward.”

“Right, because clearly, I should have anticipated your clumsiness.”

He shot you a sideways glance. “My clumsiness? You’re the one who—”

“There you are!”

You both turned to see JJ walking toward you, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Hotch is looking for you.”

You started to walk away. “Sure, I’ll go see him—”

JJ shook her head, her smile widening. “No, you don’t understand. He’s looking for you,” she pointed a finger at Spencer, then swung it back to you, “And you. Both of you, together.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. “Both of us? Why?"

“Something about filling in paperwork?”

He frowned, but as the implication of Hotch calling you both at the same time for paperwork sank in, he snapped his head toward you, his eyes wide with realization. You turned toward him at the same moment, and the gravity of your seemingly innocent lie spiraled down on him, making the whole situation feel alarmingly real.

The weight of it pressed on Spencer’s chest. How could he possibly forget about the most important thing in all of this? He had an eidetic memory, he was good at recalling even the smallest details, but how could he not remember the need to officially disclose workplace relationships?

The reality of potentially signing official documents to confirm this fake relationship made his palms sweat.

“This is stupid,” you whispered when JJ finally left the two of you. “Maybe we should think this through.”

Spencer looked down at you. You were right, this was stupid. It was getting out of hand. But as he noticed the way you stared up at him, with your wide, doe-like eyes sparkling under the light, something shifted. This whole lie had started as a means to an end, a way to fend off the relentless teasing. But now, standing there with you, it felt like more than just a plan. Maybe it was the thrill of the unknown, or the strange comfort of the lie. Maybe it wasn’t just about fooling the team.

Maybe he was starting to fool himself too.

Spencer took a deep breath. “No,” he said softly, more to himself than to you. “We started this, we should go through with it.”

Before you could respond, he placed his hand on your lower back, feeling the warmth of your body through the thin fabric of your blouse before his palm slid over to your waist. Your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden gesture, but you didn't pull away.

What have you done?

You couldn’t believe you had actually signed the papers. The weight of the pen felt so heavy in your hand, the ink seeming to dry slower than usual as you scrawled your name on the dotted line. This was supposed to be a simple, harmless plan, but now it was documented. Official.

How did it come to this?

You watched as Spencer took the pen from you, his hand brushing yours momentarily. He glanced at you before turning his attention back to the document. The hesitation was brief, but you saw it—the flicker of doubt before he pressed the pen on to the paper and signed his name next to yours.

What the hell are we doing?

“Alright,” Hotch said, taking the papers and giving you both a nod. “This is a bit formal, but it’s necessary under bureau policy. If there are any changes in your relationship status, you should report immediately.”

You nodded, barely hearing his words over the pounding of your heart.

“Again, congratulations.”

Your stomach churned. You were going to be sick.

“Thank you,” Spencer responded. Hotch then dismissed you both, and as you turned to leave, Spencer's hand gently touched your back. You were the one who urged him to act his part, but it felt too intimate, too real at that moment. You quickly increased your pace, putting some distance between you as you walked down into the bullpen.

Penelope was sitting on your chair, chatting animatedly with the rest of the team in the open space. She looked up when you both arrived. “Well, look who’s back!” Penelope called out. “How did it go?"

You weren't surprised everyone understood what being called in, together at that, by Hotch implied.

“It went… as expected,” you replied, forcing a smile. Spencer stood a bit awkwardly beside you, his usual composure slightly ruffled.

"This is amazing,” Penelope sighed. "Oh! you know what we should do?"

You eyed her warily. "What?"

"This totally calls for a celebration!"

Your eyes widened. "Let's not—"

"Are you guys free this weekend?" Penelope turned toward the rest of the team.

Derek leaned back in his chair with a wide grin. "You know I'm always up for a party."

Spencer looked between you and the rest of the team, clearly uncomfortable. "I don't think that’s necessary—"

"He's right, Spencer isn't much of a party freak," JJ chimed in, joining in the conversation from her desk. "We should do something more relaxing."

"No, that's not what I meant—"

"You know what we haven't done in a while?" Emily asked, walking closer with a thoughtful look before she settled onto your desk, leaning slightly against it. "We haven't gone to the pool lately."

Penelope perked up at the idea. "Rossi's villa?"

Emily confirmed her with a nod. "Rossi's villa. He’s always saying we should use it more anyway.”

At any given chance, you would jump at the idea. You loved relaxing by the pool. You loved basking under the sun with a cool drink in your hand, the smell of chlorine in the air, and the refreshing splash of water on your skin. And Rossi’s pool was the perfect place for that.

It was a villa located an hour’s drive away that seemed more suited to a resort than a private residence. It was far from the city, mostly unoccupied, but always welcoming. You had been there before, stayed overnight there too, and all those fun memories were still vivid in your mind. You even recalled the time Emily was caught skinny dipping at night. Or the time Derek kicked Spencer out of the pool after realizing he had been hustling him at basketball the week before.

It had been fun then, but the more you reflected on those memories, the deeper your frown became. They had happened way before everything fell apart, before the tension had strained your friendship. It was a time when everything felt simpler, when Spencer was one of your closest friends. And now, ironically, he was your boyfriend.

Fake boyfriend.

"So it's settled, then?" Penelope’s voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to the present.

Honestly, you didn’t want to go. How were you even going to pull this off? A weekend by the pool, while usually the perfect highlight for your summer, now felt like walking into a scripted play where your every gesture would be scrutinized. Not just by anyone, but by skilled profilers who could sniff out a lie like a shark smells blood in the water.

The fear of being exposed, of embarrassing yourself—or worse, damaging your career—was gnawing at you. It made you increasingly anxious. Yet backing out wasn’t an option either. It would raise too many questions and invite too much speculation.

So you closed the distance between you and Spencer and linked your arm through his, ignoring the slight panic in his eyes. “Sure,” you said, turning to Penelope as you mustered a smile. “Sounds fun.”

Penelope beamed at you. Spencer, on the other hand, felt the exact opposite. The idea of spending an entire weekend pretending to be in a relationship filled him with dread.

And he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was bound to go wrong.

#much ado about nothing #gifwriting #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid series #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction

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dira333 · 8 months

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Lap Cat - Aone x Reader

Just a lil something I couldn't get out of my brain - 1,4k

Aone is a lap cat.

You know the moment you meet him, even though you can’t point out what had given it away.

It surely isn’t the way he keeps his voice to himself and uses his glares as a way of talking. Or the way he overestimated the weight of the door or underestimated his own strength and ripped your office door out of its handles on his first day.

He’d been the talk of the town for a whole month.

“Aone-san,” you called out at the end of the morning briefing. “Do you have a minute?”

He nods and follows you out and up the stairs into your office on the first level.

You wonder what he thinks of you, in your nice business suit with the air-conditioned office. If he looks down on you like some of the other workers do because you’re one if not the youngest building designers in the company. You don’t think he does, but he’s hard to read.

“I’ve noticed you are very diligent in your work.” You explain to him. “And this part is very difficult to master. I’d love it if you could double-check the work, especially if you end up working on a different part. I don’t want to call anyone lazy, but I’ve been told that we’ve consistently had trouble keeping up with the plan for these structures and I want everything to be okay. I-”

“It’s okay.” As always, the deep timbre of his voice surprises you. You wish he’d talk more often.

“Great. I’ll be here all day. And tomorrow too and the day after that as well. So you can come in whenever to let me know, okay?”

He nods, having used up all his words already. He leaves you shortly after, but not after an awkward pause where you try not to babble and he stares intently at the little pink bows adorning your stilettos.

You’re in the middle of unpacking your lunch Bento when there’s a knock on the door.

“Come in!”

Aone’s face is smeared with dirt. His clothes are stained too, but his hands are clean as they offer you a piece of paper.

You take it and inspect it. He’s made a checklist for the area you mentioned. Your heart lurches at this careful work.

“Thank you!” You doubt your smile can express even half of your gratitude.

His ears are red. He’s probably gotten a sunburn from working outside all morning.

“Do you…” You hesitate. “Do you want to share lunch? It’s cooler in here and I wouldn’t mind.”

He looks at the pretty but uncomfortable chairs in front of your desk and back to his dirty, stained clothes.

“Don’t mind it.” You rush to say. “Please, sit. I will go and get something to drink from the machine outside.”

“Let me.” He says and you freeze, spellbound by his voice - again.

Soon you find yourself spilling your thoughts over eggrolls, rice and two cans of sparkling water.

You babble when you get nervous and he sure as hell makes you nervous.

“It’s so nice to have someone with me when I eat.” You tell him when he gets up, no doubt to leave for his work again. “I mean, I can eat alone, no problem, I do that at home too. I mean I have a kitten there, but he’s the quiet type. It just gets a little lonely around lunch when I have to work by myself all the time anyway. You probably don’t have that problem, because you’re so many workers all working together all day and then you have lunch break together too, but if you want to cool down for a bit, feel free to come up here for Lunch Break.”

“Thank you.” He interrupts your babbling, bowing so abruptly you’re left speechless - a rare occurence.

“Oh no, I have to thank you.” Now you’re bowing too and it’s only your colleague passing by that saves the two of you from bowing in turn until one gives up.

Kenji curls up on your lap that night as you tell him of your day.

He’d been a stray, a tiny ball of fur and teeth, only slowly learning that you did not mean any harm. He’s not the best listener, occasionally digging his claws into your thighs as he either disagrees with you or does not care about your opinion. But he’s yours and you’d be even lonelier without him.

You don’t see Aone for another week. Well, you spot him during morning briefings, a quiet presence at the back of the room, but you don’t come across him other than that until it’s Monday and you only find out that you’ve left your Lunch at home when it’s time to unpack it.

It’s pouring outside and you’re dressed for sunshine to the point that not even a borrowed umbrella will keep you warm or dry during the trek down to the Konbini and back again.

But going hungry is even worse.

You run into Aone right at the entrance, raindrops creating little patterns in the dirt on his face.

He holds a can of sparkling water in one hand and a Bento Box in his other.

“Oh, Aone. Hello!” You smile up at him. “Are you taking your Lunch inside? Do you want to come up to my Office? I’ve turned my heater on, actually, because I run cold easily.”

He looks down at the Umbrella in your hand.

“Oh, I forgot my Lunch at home. I’ll just run down to the Konbini and get some, but feel free to go up and get warm.”

His eyes travel down to your feet, where your painted nails peek out of a new pair of high-heeled sandals.

“What do you need?” He asks. “I am already wet.”

“Oh, I can’t.” He hands you the sparkling water. You take it, too surprised to refuse it. He takes your umbrella and hands you his Lunch.

“What do you need?” He repeats again. There’s something in his voice, at least that’s what it must be, that makes you open your mouth and answer.

He nods and turns to leave, leaving you behind with his Lunch and his drink.

There’s a blanket resting on one of the chairs. Aone is the only one who uses it, and drapes it over the chair to make sure he doesn’t get it dirty.

Aone is a lap cat. He wants to be asked, he wants to be offered. He does not ask himself.

You get his phone number so you can text him every day, letting him know what you’ll be taking for Lunch. He never stands up an invitation.

So you invite him to walk to the train station with you. He holds your umbrella, nodding along as you talk about your day.

“Where do you live, Aone-san?” You ask, nibbling on the inside of your cheek as you debate if that question is too forward. You don’t even know his first name yet, even though you long to.

You almost miss his answer, too absorbed in the sound of his voice. He does not live far from you.

“Are you taking the train as well? We could sit together.” His face changes into something that looks like disappointment.

“But we don’t have to!” You try to mend whatever mess you’ve just created.

“I have practice.”

“Practice?”

“Volleyball.”

“Ooooh! Can I come watch?”

The faintest blush covers his cheeks at your question. You’ve never seen it before, but you could get addicted to that sight.

“They would think you are my girlfriend.”

“I wouldn’t mind that.” Your face burns as you realize what you’ve just divulged.

“I don’t mean- I wouldn’t ever pressure- You don’t have to feel-”

Aone interrupts your blabbering, but not with words. He stretches out his incredibly long arm, offers his hand to you in a wordless answer.

You take it, your heart beating so loud you fear he can hear it.

Aone is a lap cat.

Just like Kenji he craves your touch, your presence, being near you whenever he can.

But quite unlike Kenji, he does not mind when you roll over in your sleep and kick your leg into his shins. He does not dig his fingernails into your skin - and if he does, he does it lovingly.

He’s as much a quiet presence in your home as your cat, making lazy Sunday Mornings so much sweeter.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #Dira writes #Haikyuu x reader #Haikyuu fluff #Aone x reader #Aone Takanobu #Aone fluff #Haikyuu Timeskip

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tsumuus · 2 months

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meet cutes | my hero academia

a/n so random make ni sense and not proof read at all. i just love all these characters sm and think they need more appreciation

characters tenya iida, hanta sero, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari

masterlist

tenya iida

The bustling streets of Musutafu seemed to never quiet, especially during the evening rush hour. You hurried through the crowded sidewalks, clutching a stack of documents to your chest, trying to avoid any collisions. The sky had a gentle orange hue as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the city.

Just as you rounded the corner near a small, bustling cafe, a gust of wind swept through, snatching one of your papers and sending it fluttering into the air. You gasped, reaching out futilely as it soared higher.

Suddenly, a blur of blue and white darted past you. Tenya Iida, in his hero costume, appeared, deftly catching the paper mid-air. He landed gracefully, adjusting his glasses and holding the document out to you. The sunlight framed him perfectly, making his appearance even more striking. You accepted the paper, your fingers brushing his gloved hand.

With a warm smile, he nodded at you. “Always happy to assist,” he said, before dashing off again, leaving you standing there with a racing heart and a newfound admiration for the hero who had saved your day.

hanta sero

The neighborhood park was your favorite spot for a morning jog. The dew-kissed grass, the chirping of birds, and the occasional rustle of leaves created a tranquil atmosphere. As you rounded the trail's curve, you noticed a commotion near the large oak tree in the center.

Curiosity piqued, you jogged closer, only to see Sero Hanta struggling with a tangled kite. It was a bright red dragon, its tail hopelessly entwined in the branches. Sero, now a seasoned pro hero, was trying his best to free it using his tape quirk, but the kite remained stubbornly stuck.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound catching his attention. He glanced your way, sheepish but grinning. Without a word, you joined him, climbing onto a lower branch to help. The two of you worked in harmony, hands brushing occasionally, the shared effort bringing an unexpected sense of camaraderie.

Finally, with a triumphant tug, the kite was free. Sero’s laughter was infectious, and as you handed the kite back to the grateful child who owned it, he gave you a thumbs up. “Great teamwork,” he said, his smile brightening your morning.

eijiro kirishima

The gym was quieter than usual, the perfect setting for a late-night workout. You focused on your routine, pushing through the last set of weights when a loud crash echoed through the space. Startled, you looked over to see Eijiro Kirishima, now a well-known hero, sheepishly picking up a toppled barbell.

He caught your gaze and grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. The dim lighting highlighted the sharp angles of his face, and you couldn’t help but notice the genuine warmth in his eyes.

You walked over, offering a hand. Together, you righted the barbell, your fingers brushing against his. He chuckled, a deep, hearty sound that reverberated in the empty gym. “Guess I overestimated myself,” he admitted, his laughter contagious.

As you returned to your workout, you felt his gaze linger, a silent promise of future encounters. There was something undeniably endearing about his honest clumsiness, and you found yourself looking forward to the next time fate would bring you together.

denki kaminari

The arcade was buzzing with energy, neon lights reflecting off the polished floors and flashing screens. You weaved through clusters of gamers until you spotted Denki Kaminari, your former classmate and now a hero known for his electrifying abilities, focused intensely on a claw machine. His usual carefree grin was replaced with a determined frown as he tried to snag a plush.

You couldn’t resist joining in. Standing beside him, you both took turns maneuvering the claw. After a few failed attempts, your skillful finesse finally paid off—the claw gripped the plush snugly and dropped it into the prize chute. Denki’s eyes widened in amazement, his grin returning full force. “No way! You did it!”

He offered you the plush toy, a spark of excitement evident in his eyes as your hands briefly touched. As you walked out together, the arcade’s lights painting playful patterns on his face, Denki chattered enthusiastically about his favorite games and hero escapades. His infectious energy made the evening feel like a whirlwind of laughter and camaraderie, leaving you with a smile and a sense of eager anticipation for what could unfold between you.

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