don't date coworkers- s.r.
a/n: i literally wrote this very fast and also i hope you like it pls go easy on me!!! reader has a policy they don't date coworkers. spencer is so angsty abt that !! also sorry for dropping a new fic at 2am LOL
wc: 1.7k
She’s really, really good at talking to people.
It’s one of the many traits Spencer adores about her. She moves through crowds with ease, and she can charm her way into any piece of information from whatever city cop they need a favor from. She integrated into the team faster than anyone could’ve expected. This is a strength not all profilers have- they know what it takes to know what makes someone appealing, but rare is the ability to be as charismatic and charming as she is.
She’s good at talking to him.
She’s worked at the BAU for about a year now. 13 months, 7 days and 8 hours since she walked through the doors of the bullpen for the first time, beaming at him for the very first time. Give or take.
Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew that he was in love with her. He’s halfway certain she does, and is being too polite to mention it. Normally, Spencer is incredibly regimented about boundaries. While the BAU is his family, and there’s no real way to deny that, he knows that he’s less than ideal to go out with. He’s stocky and he never cuts his hair (even though she swears it’s cute longer) and he’s an awkward guy- gangly and tall and just ill-fitting to be part of the scenery of her life.
It’s a Friday, and a rainy one at that. It’s one of the blessed ones where they don’t really have a case, just paperwork to catch up on, reports and her desk faces a window.
Normally, when Spencer gets his work done (a good four hours before everyone else on a paperwork-only day), he’d head out. Catch up on whatever Russian novel he’s been chipping away at- but she’s here, and he’s made her favorite tea.
“I thought you could use a treat,” he says, walking over to her desk. She looks up at him, brushing overgrown bangs, “It’s not really a great one, but I’ll get you some scones on the way to mine, yeah?”
She looks up at him, dropping her pen and focusing entire energy on him. He feels a bit overwhelmed, like an ant under a magnifying glass.
“Did you know that I adore you, Spence?”
He is very much not aware. No amount of her saying it will ever make him know. She takes a long sip from the mug. He knows how much honey she likes in it. He studies how she looks, eyes closed serenely, completely invested in what he’s given her.
“You’ll be taking her home, pretty boy?” Morgan snickers, in a not altogether unkind manner.
“Fuck off,” she says kindly, not taking her eyes off of Spencer as she rebuffed Morgan’s teasing.
“Easy, easy,” Morgan laughs, “I’ll leave your boyfriend alone.”
If she has anything to say to that, it doesn’t come out then.
He’s still bright red, though. Morgan is amused, and Spencer knows that she really, truly adores Morgan. Spencer loves him too, but it would be nice if he laid off the jokes.
She doesn’t date coworkers.
He knows this because of the first time they’d met, when he’d been walking in carrying a croissant for Garcia and a coffee for JJ, and saw what can only be described as a truly ridiculously beautiful woman in the bullpen.
She’d been leaned back, smiling openly as Morgan tossed some random pick-up line towards her. He remembers it now like he can still hear it, her lilting lovely voice carrying just the right amount of warmth to make this not sting, or at least sting as little as possible.
“I’m sorry, Derek,” she had said, “I make it a point not to date coworkers.”
Which of course is fine. She can date whoever she wants, and it’s a good policy to have personally. And Spencer’s never really be the kind of guy who excelled at getting dates. He knew from the first minute that he saw her that even if she didn’t think that way… well, it wouldn’t be him, who she picked.
Now, they are very close. So close that she drives him home from work every Friday. Which usually includes staying at his shitty apartment and watching VHS tapes of documentaries and Doctor Who.
He wants to kiss her every Friday. All, the time, really. It’s kind of plaguing him. Clearly, she likes hanging out with him. Something about him is appealing. It’s foolish to assume that it’s more than friends, especially for someone like him to be with someone like her.
She doesn’t date coworkers.
“I made sure the film tonight has subtitles!”
“Are you saying film because this film is foreign, Spence?”
“I promise it’s worth it!” He says excitedly, “And they’re really done well. You won’t have to have me whisper the translations to you in real time!”
“I didn’t mind that,” She laughs then, a real laugh, “but I’m glad we’re getting to hang out tonight.”
It’s funny- they’ve done this so, so many times, but he never stops being thrilled.
___________________________________
Sometimes, when the summer air is forgiving enough, they walk home from the office. She takes the train in, and they walk back to his place. Tonight is one of these nights, and god- she looks lovely. She’s tied her blazer around her waist, and the sunset hits her face in that gorgeous baroque painting kind of way.
“You’re very pretty,” he hears himself say before he can stop it. He’s endlessly pleased when she preens at the praise.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Doctor,” she says, shoving her hands into her pockets, a nervous gesture. He wants to hold those hand, intertwine her lovely delicate fingers with his bony wispy fingers.
“You’re being nice to me,” he says, looking down at his shoes. They’re stupid. He should wear loafers, or some other shoe that doesn’t make him like half-child half-geek.
“I’m being accurate, actually,” she says she bumps his shoulder.
She’d be a wonderful girlfriend. He lives in the world this can happen quite often, in his fantasy. She laughs at his jokes and tells him he’s kind, and good, and she means it. He’s lucky to have this much of her- more than anyone else on the team! Spencer knows he’s her favorite. The way she’s looking at him now, how she give-up her Fridays to spend with him, on his ratty couch, how she always listens. Whenever they're both on the jet and he falls asleep, he always wakes up with a blanket on him. She's so good at loving people.
Being her favorite on the team does not mean he’s in the running to be a boyfriend. But he’d fucking want to be. He’d be a good boyfriend. Spencer, he’s gone so far for her. He fantasizes about getting her flowers that have symbolic meaning.
“Are you okay, boy-genius?”
“I’m better than okay. Do you want popcorn?”
She wants popcorn. He sets the movie up, and she gets comfortable on his couch, curling up with his purple felt blanket, and his mind betrays him with unhelpful images of what it might look like if she was his, if this is what he came home to.
Don't picture welcome home kisses, or movie nights or being wanted. Don't.
It’s very, very hard to focus on the movie.
She’s touchy, with him. He’s not sure if it’s because she could never see him as her boyfriend, but he’s grateful as she leans her head on his. She smells like peonies. When the credits roll, they stay like that for minute- her head on his shoulder and one of her legs thrown over his.
He wonders, not for the first time, if she feels the same way about him. If things were just..different, then they’d be kissing under the haze of his TV right now, if he’d know what that chapstick she carries with her every day tastes like.
“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like if we met under different circumstances?” he says, once time passes and he speaks instead of thinking.
“Hmm?” She hummed, relaxed eyes flitting their gaze over to him.
“Like, at a bar or something.”
“But you hate bars.”
“That’s why I said or something!”
Her lip juts out adorably, “But then I wouldn’t get to see you in your element.”
“Yeah,” he sighs, resting his neck on the top of the cushion. The AC is a little too much in the room. He wonders if she’s cold. “But who knows. Maybe we’d date, or something.”
It’s the dumbest thing he’s ever fucking said. Both because it was a dumb way to say it, but because it was an advance. He feels white hot shame lick at his spine when he looks at her, and hears her laugh.
“I don’t think so, Spence.”
“No,” shitshitshit, “I didn’t mean-“
“I mean, if you don’t want to date me now, I don’t think meeting at like, Whole Foods would’ve been the difference maker.”
It’s then he hears it- the piece he couldn’t place in her voice, when she gets like this. It’s being resigned.
“What are you talking about?”
“C’mon, Spence,” she says, another bitter chuckle coming through, “You know how I feel. I haven’t exactly beens subtle.”
“But you don’t date coworkers. You have a rule.”
She looks at him with no recognition of what he’s saying.
“No, because you told Morgan that, it’s the first thing I ever heard you say.”
“Yeah, but-“
“And yes, okay, you’ve been my favorite person almost as long as I’ve known you and yes, I would fucking love for you to be my girlfriend, but that was your rule!”
“You want me to be your girlfriend?”
“Obviously!”
He doesn’t get the chance to say anything else before, well- before she’s kissing him. More aggressive than that, really. Crawled onto his lap, arms around his neck, and where she leads Spencer is all too happy to follow. His body is not great at moving on instinct, but his whole nervous system feels alive- the weight of her in his lap, the feel of her waist under his fingers, the way he’s allowed this. It feels like such a pleasure, hedonistic in a way he’s never, ever been allowed to experience.
“You had a rule,” he says dumbly when she pulls away. His lips are wet. He’d like to go back to kissing, thank you very much.
“You’re the exception, to every rule, Spencer.”
When he kisses her again (which he’s allowed to do now, holy fuck) Spencer decides he’s going to spend the rest of all time earning that status.
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Be Nice To Me |l. howlett| nsfw
A/N: fwb!logan x f!reader, daddy kink, pet names, slight praise kink, established consent to rougher intercourse, implied age gap, reader is a student, her powers just don’t come up, this is pure smut lol
The perverse thoughts running through Logan’s mind as he watched Y/N reading a book by the fireplace repulsed him. It was as if he had not already ravaged her in every sense of the word. As if he didn’t already know what it felt like to hold her bare body to his as they both sought out a flush of ecstasy which they could only seem to get from each other. Logan wanted her all the time. There was no one else in the common area - given that it was almost 2am - and the unaware girl had yet to realize she wasn’t alone anymore. It gave Logan enough time to pour himself a glass of whiskey and he took the chair next to hers with a low grunt. Only then did Y/N look away from her book, surprised to see the Wolverine.
“Oh, Logan,” She greeted him with a small smile as she bookmarked her page. “I didn’t hear you come down.”
Logan sipped his whiskey and chuckled at her. “Won’t hear nothin’ with your head stuck in those books all day.” He teased, making her look away from him bashfully. Logan smirked, aware of the effect he had on her, even if they had fooled around before, it didn’t change the fact that she was flustered around him. “What’s that one about?” He asked, smiling as her eyes lit up at the question and he knew it would be a few minutes of her babbling to him. His whiskey was gone and he had lit a cigar as she finished up her synopsis. “Sounds real interestin’, kid.” He said with sarcasm dripping off his tone.
Y/N gave him an unimpressed look and she got up to leave, her book in hand. It wasn’t unusual for him to tease or poke fun, but there was only so much she could handle before it begun to hurt her feelings and make her feel like a child. “You don’t have to be an ass.”
Her tone was hurt and he wanted to kick himself. Logan was quick to grab her wrist as she walked past him and their eyes met as he held her in place. “No, stay,” He said in a pleading way. A lump formed in her throat as his eyes bore intently into her own and he gently tugged on her arm. “Stay.” He said more sternly as he slowly guided her down onto his lap. She couldn’t ever resist him, especially not when he showed her this side of him. Yearning, apologetic, his uncharacteristic way of tenderly consoling her bruised ego. Logan took the book out of her hand and tossed it onto the chair she had been occupying. Y/N felt her breathing hitch at the sound of the thud and she peered over to make sure the book was okay. “It ain’t made of glass.” Logan chuckled and she clicked her tongue reproachfully.
“You have to be nice to me,” Y/N told him seriously while she let his hand that still held his cigar caress her thighs, his other hand rested on her lower back. “If you want me to be nice to you, that is.” She added with a playful twinkle in her eyes.
As he took a puff of his cigar, Logan looked at her with a darkness in his eyes, the flames in the fireplace reflected in his irises, mirroring the fire he felt building up in himself. “I can’t picture you bein’ nice to me.” He said after blowing his smoke up above her head so it wouldn’t waft in her face. The hand on her back sliding up slowly, making her shudder on his lap which he liked. “Always got somethin’ smart to say.” He muttered as he held onto the back of her neck and guided her down to meet his lips in an intense kiss.
“I’m nicer to you than you are to me.” Y/N argued against his mouth and he muttered a quiet, ‘stop talkin’ and kiss me.’ Her light chuckle was drowned out by the sound of him growling as her hands felt up on his torso while they made out.
The mansion was silent except for her soft moans and his pained grunts. Logan eventually set the cigar in the ashtray sitting on the table next to his chair, focusing entirely on how she felt in his hands. Soft, warm, so responsive to him. Y/N’s arms had snaked around his head, fingers laced through his hair while he caressed her waist and thighs. “Logan,” She gasped, a shy smile curling her lips as his dick hardened underneath her. “Not here.”
“My room or yours?” He asked with a grin as he kissed her jaw, sliding his arm underneath her knees so he could carry her bridal style. Her soft giggle spurred him on all the more as he made his way down the hall to whichever bedroom was closest - it was his own.
“Wait, my book!” She urged in a hushed voice as he walked into the bedroom. Logan groaned and shook his head, shutting the door behind him with his foot. “Logan.” She whined quietly.
“I’ll go back for it after.” He promised her as he laid her down gently on his bed, hovering over her and kissing her tenderly before removing his t-shirt. Her lips quickly searched for his kiss again, she was eager, and he knew she wanted this as badly as he did. “I just wanna be nice to you right now, yeah, baby?” He smirked, slowly peeling off her top to reveal her breasts to him. His mouth latched onto her tit, one hand kneading the other as he sucked and bit on her chest. Y/N bit her lip as she watched him pull away to undo the drawstring of his sweatpants while staring down at her in a predatory manner. Logan committed every curve of her body and feature of her face to memory, as he did each night they were together.
“Stop staring.” She blushed, covering her face only to have him move her hands down and place them flat onto his chest as he hovered completely nude over her now.
Despite their back and forth, Logan always enjoyed how sweet and soft she was with him when it came down to it. “How can I?” He asked, pulling her leggings down and sighing as he admired her naked body underneath him. “Just look at you, kid.” He moved down to kneel between her legs, inhaling her arousal before sinking into her pussy.
Y/N took in a sharp breath as his tongue pushed through her folds and she tangled her fingers in his hair, guiding him and feeding herself to him as the pleasure took over her reasoning. Logan groaned in approval, drooling onto her cunt, lapping at the mess he made while she showed him how to please her. “Feels so good, daddy.” She whimpered, a familiar tension growing in the pit of her abdomen.
“Yeah?” He asked with a smirk, two thick fingers slid into her and she clenched nervously. Fingering always made her a little anxious because of the blades hiding in between his knuckles, but she trusted him. Y/N knew he would never hurt her. “Is daddy making you feel good?” He asked lewdly, watching her face contorting from the intense pleasure, her hips rolling into his hand which let him know she was close. “Show me, baby, show me how good I make you feel.” Her body went rigid as he coaxed her orgasm out of her and a high-pitched whine fell out of her lips. Her arousal coated his fingers and his tongue and she screwed her eyes shut while tugging harshly on his hair as she tried to ground herself from her high. “There we go.” Logan praised, pulling his fingers out and lapping up her release with his tongue, sucking harshly on her clit.
Her thighs trembled from the aftershock of her orgasm and Logan kissed them, marking the soft insides of them before making his way up her body to her breasts. The thick shaft of his cock laid flat against her pulsing slit and she rolled her hips slowly along his length. “Oh,” She gasped as his tip pressed on her clit, the feeling making her jolt and tremble underneath his heavy frame. “I like that.” She said shyly as he watched her get herself off on him.
“Keep goin’.” Logan groaned as the head of his dick occasionally got snagged on her opening. His fists clenched tightly onto the pillow behind her head while he stayed as still as he could and let her run her clit along the length of his hard, leaking cock. “‘M gonna cum, pretty girl.” He warned, his muscled arms tensing underneath her palms.
“Don’t you wanna cum inside me, daddy?” Y/N asked with big, dazed eyes and a subtle pout as he growled.
“‘Course I do.” Logan said in a low voice, his arms caging her as he rested his weight on her smaller frame. Her hands pressed into his toned back to brace herself and she gasped as his tip pushed into her, the initial stretch always taking her by surprise. “Gonna let me ruin this little pussy?” He asked, dipping his head down to watch his cock disappear inch by inch until her wet cunt swallowed all of him. Y/N mewled loudly, nodding as he stuffed himself to the hilt inside her. His hips rutted into her, jolting her body up and down the bedsheets from the force of his thrust, her tits bouncing obscenely from the strength. “You can be real nice when you wanna be, pretty girl.” He commented, making her blush as she cupped his bearded face in her delicate hands and brought herself up to kiss him. Logan snaked one arm around her waist, the other anchoring their combined weight to the headboard as he sat up on his knees and plowed roughly into her.
“Oh, oh! Oh, my God!” Y/N cried against his lips, her arms wrapping around his waist, fingernails clawing furiously at his back, marking him with red lines that took but a second to heal. The sting stirred his animal instinct and he possessively marked her neck and chest with deep, dark love bites for her to find later. “Logan!” A sob wracked through her body as she came once again and the feeling of her already narrow walls contracting around his throbbing member sent him following her over that edge.
“Goddamnit!” Logan growled into the dip of her collarbone, holding her tighter against his hot, sweaty body while he filled her with his load. The strength of his one arm wrapped around her squeezed the air out of her lungs and she gasped. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” Logan let her go, carefully dropping her on the bed, and sliding out of her.
Y/N inhaled deeply as she held herself up on her elbows, her body trembling from the briefly frightening moment. The adrenaline that coursed through her nervous system made her insides flutter and she was surprised at how much more she could handle now. Their eyes met and Logan felt guilty as she smiled at him reassuringly. “I’m okay.” Logan sighed as he leaned down to kiss her. Y/N hummed into the kiss in a satisfied manner.
“I got carried away.” He explained, laying beside her and kissing the top of her head as pulled her onto him so she was resting on his chest.
That’s usually how it went; Logan’s animal side would take over, the primal instinct to dominate her would rule over any reason he had left. And she’d be all right with it, reassuring him that it was what she wanted. While they had talked about it - how rough she likes it - it did worry him that she wouldn’t stop him if it went too far. Even if she claimed she could keep up with him.
“I liked it.” Y/N said with a red tint on her face as she looked up at him. “I like you.” She confessed and Logan chuckled, the deep rumble of his laugh vibrating in his chest and soothing her.
“I like you too, kid.”
As she fell asleep, Logan watched over her protectively, caressed strands of her hair out of her face, and smiled when her brow furrowed or her nose twitched from his light touch.
Eventually, he left his bedroom in a pair of sweatpants and relit the cigar he had left out in the common area. Y/N’s book was still sitting in the chair and he sighed as he picked it up and read the cover, Of Mice and Men. Logan hummed intriguingly to himself as he opened the book and began reading.
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I think I have read all the Logan/Wolverine content there is to read and have decided to write my own bc I am insatiable:) I am just throwing this out there like a grenade and dipping🫣
Masterlist
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HE SAW FOREVER SO HE SMASHED IT UP
katsuki bakugou x reader
the times bakugou broke your heart
heavily inspired by mbobhft
1) the denial
“are we breaking up?”
“…yeah.”
“oh.”
his reasons made sense. he had a job, a goal, a burning drive to prove himself as the best. he was burnt out, his fingers worked to the bones. he couldn’t give you not just what you wanted, but what you needed. and that killed him more than it did you.
it made sense. the gears turned. the writing was on paper. like almost everything he did, it worked out. of course it worked out for katsuki bakugou- he’s the best.
it wasn’t all that set in stone for you, however.
he could have given you a million more reasons before the tears spilled. “i’m an asshole.” true. “i don’t treat you right.” fair. “you deserve so much fuckin’ better, [y/n.]” yeah, he was right.
but you always liked to challenge the acceptable.
at first, it didn’t hit you as hard as you thought it would. you walked through your room, too numb to pay mind to the tears that rolled down your cheeks, and silently packed up his sweaters into a box. the necklace he gave you, the ‘k’ pendant, came off your neck like a butterfly lands on a branch, knowing that its death is inevitable and doing nothing to stop it.
at night, you cried, and cried, and cried. you called him about 27 times. he never answered. he texted you to make sure you were okay, but your tear-blurred eyes kept you from seeing the keyboard clearly. you left him on seen and prayed that he was worried, prayed that his heart would explode at your lack of an answer, prayed to god that he would come over just to check on. suffice to say your prayers were left unanswered.
you thought he’d call. but he didn’t. but your soul remained devoted, eyes glued to your phone screen and hands shaking. he has to call. he has to tell you goodnight. he has to tell you that you’re an idiot. he has to tell you he loves you. he’s going too, idiot.
right?
2) the anger
if he wanted you dead, why didn’t he just say?
your heart burned for anger. for salvation. for revenge. you knew katsuki bakugou knew anger well, but he had no idea the way your soul flared like a whole new depth of hell.
you laid in bed, awake, eyes excruciatingly drive from crying your tear ducts may as well have been burnt off. memories of him haunted your brain while your fists tightened.
you regretted giving him your heart. your love. your late nights and early mornings. your fights, your passions, your 2ams and your smiles. you hated the way you let him draw the laughter out of you, how he showed parts of himself to you he had never shown anyone.
and those little things that made up your love, he was going to use on someone else. you knew it.
he was going to cook them his special fried rice his mom taught him how to do. he was going to teach them how to punch because he doesn’t want them to get hurt- something he did for you. he was going kiss them how he kissed you, love them in a way that should have only been you.
but he shouldn’t. in fact, he should look back at what you had, and regret every. single. thing. he did to let is end. he should regret everything he didn’t do to keep you. he should burn alive from guilt. scream. cry. fight for his life while his body is doused in gasoline. attempt miserably to tear the fire off his skin while it burned him to a crisp. he should die screaming.
he should deserved it, after all. because he heard your screams, and put his headphones on.
3) the bargaining
please. you wailed. who do i have to talk to? what do i have to do to get him back!?
you suddenly thought of so many scenarios in your head, scenarios fuelled by false hope. things you’d do to kiss him one last time, to hold him, to love him and be loved by him. you’d dry the ocean water. you’d turn stones into gold. you’d bring him to heaven and back. you’d get out of bed. you’d compromise more. you wouldn’t forget to kiss him. you’d love him. you’d love him so much harder. please.
suddenly everything seemed possible. if someone answered your calls, if someone made a deal with you, you’d offer up everything. you were sure you’d place everything on the line for him. you want it all back- his yelling, his snark, his nicknames, his attitude, his everything- no, your everything. you’d pluck out your own eyes for his red ones, or your heart for his heroic soul that loved you brighter than anyone else. being loved by katsuki bakugou was something you wouldn’t trade for anything- turns out you couldn’t trade it either.
4) the depression
everything smelled like him. your sheets blossomed into his sweet, burnt scent, the one that he’d leave behind whenever he slept over simply because he left you. all your jackets felt like his chiseled arms, wrapped around you as if you’d be gone in a moments notice. his voice was everywhere. the songs on the radio, the words you read on your phone, and the memories that played like your favourite movie soundtrack.
you wondered if he knew you couldn’t get out of bed. sometimes you imagined him calling your ass lazy, and then dragging you out of bed with a kiss to your forehead and a breakfast he cooked for you. maybe then you’d rip off the sheets and face the day. but right now, your bed was the only place you could mourn.
it was cruel, in a sense. letting you fall in love with him only to leave. letting you fall in love with his stupid smug smirk, his laugh, his teasing, his anger, his unreasonable handsomeness, his millions of pet peeves and trigger words, his clinginess, his distance, his days and nights, ups and downs, his hate and love all tied into one. he made you love him, knowing you would never get to love another katsuki bakugou.
5) the acceptance
acceptance was bakugou realizing how badly he fucked up.
part 2 soon!
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