michelle-is-writing

[michelle-is-writing]

Welcome Home, Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1.7k~

When Spencer returned home from a long case, he sometimes had to ask himself whether or not he was truly helping people. Yes, his job did involve saving victims and keeping criminals behind bars, but was it all worth it? Did the good outweigh all of the bad? Or was it the opposite, and his job really wasn't worth any of the time he devoted to it?

Questions like these wrestled throughout Spencer's mind, but they only went away once he arrived home from those long cases. He was reminded of two, soon to be three, reasons why he continued working his job. Once Spencer saw them, he reveled at the fact that his job consisted of protecting families like his. Even though Spencer didn't see it this way, his wife, four-year-old daughter, and soon to be newborn-daughter all knew they had a true hero in their lives.

However, despite all the encouragement and love he received in return, Spencer still felt a little ashamed when a case happened to go awry. This time, it was a case that involved children, and Spencer wasn't the only one to be affected by the outcome of the mission. The only difference between him and the rest of his team was the fact that most of the kids taken looked like the very little girl that he held closest to his heart. On the way back, Spencer was plagued by never-ending predicaments.

What would Spencer do if he was ever put in a predicament such as the ones he sees parents go through on plenty of cases? How would he and his wife be if they were to go through something horrible like that? Spencer knew he should never think these things as they never lead to anything good. Most of all, he knew that worrying about such things wouldn't get him anywhere, and instead, it would just cause him more anxiety and stress that he didn't need.

So, once he got off the plane and headed home, Spencer pushed all those thoughts aside and instead decided to focus on what was most important to him - his family. He had been missing them for the duration of the time he was gone, and now, all he wanted to do was hold them close. Although this was the case, he decided to wait to do anything until the next day. It was three in the morning, and he wasn't going to wake up his family and ruin their night's sleep.

After unlocking his front door and walking into his dark house, Spencer placed his bags down on the ground as quiet as he could before heading to his bedroom with the softest footsteps. Although, he soon found his gentle movements to be useless as his wife was already up and awake, her bedside lamp illuminating the room for him to see. Despite it not being the sight he wanted to see, Spencer still found himself smiling at his beautiful wife as she sat up against the headboard, one hand on her eight-month-baby-bump while the other rested a book against it for her to read.

Once her eyes caught Spencer's form emerging form in the doorway, she smiled back at him before getting up from the bed with only a little struggle after Spencer helped her up. "What are you doing up so late?" Spencer couldn't help but ask, wrapping an arm around his wife as he held her close to him. He knew that the growing child in her was becoming more of an issue for her each day, but she refused to ask for help. She was the same way when she was pregnant with Sophia, and when she became pregnant once again, Spencer knew it would be no different this time either.

"Couldn't sleep," (Y/n) simply explained, resting her hands on Spencer's shoulders as she gazed up at his face. She could tell that something was wrong with him. She could see it directly through his eyes. Spencer had a good habit of putting up a facade that everyone usually fell for - not his wife though.

"You okay, baby?" (Y/n) asked, moving a hand up to brush his wild curls from his face. At the feeling of her gentle touch, Spencer relaxed, but the reminder of the case still lingered in his mind. There was no sense in hiding it from her either. He knew that (Y/n) would eventually make him breakthrough his wall and admit something was wrong. She knew him inside and out just as much as he knew her.

"Today was... horrible," Spencer murmured, leaning forward to lay his head against his wife's soft chest. Despite the slightly awkward position Spencer was in, he welcomed his wife's touch with another small sigh as she slid her arms from his shoulders to his neck. "I can't get the case out of my head, and even though we solved it, I still feel like it's ongoing, and in a way, it is. It's never over for either party.

Understanding his words completely, (Y/n) nodded her head and kissed her husband's temple before gently pushing him onto their bed where he fell back with a small thud. Just as he began to pull his wife to lie beside him, she gave him one last kiss before walking out of their room and into the hallway. She had a plan - Spencer could see this plain as day.

Choosing to stay in their room as his wife directed him to, Spencer quickly changed out of his wrinkled and worn clothes and into soft pajamas that smelled just like the person he loved with all his heart. (Y/n) did do the laundry, after all. When he was away for work, something as simple as that could remind him of home; plus, it didn't help that she was always there to help him unpack when he did make his way home. She always did this without Spencer asking her to, and he wondered perhaps she was just happy that he was home.

Now wearing more relaxing clothes, Spencer sat back down on the bed with his head against the headboard as his wife had been doing when he first arrived. Although, before he was able to start questioning why it was taking so long for (Y/n) to come back to their room, her figure emerged from the doorway with their half-asleep four year old in her arms. Immediately, two things crossed Spencer's mind. He had been missing his daughter for the past week, so this was a blessing. On the other hand, his very pregnant wife was carrying over forty pounds when she shouldn't have been carrying any at all.

Within a quick second, Spencer was off the bed and onto his feet where he took Sophia from her mother's arms gently and held her close to him. Her arms went around her father's neck quickly, her soft hold on him like magic to him. Within an instant, Spencer felt like he could fully breathe again. His wife just with her appearance alone assured him things would get better, but the little girl that she gave him four years ago showed him things were in fact already better.

"I missed you, daddy," Sophia muttered, clutching onto his cotton sweatshirt with her small, yet strong hands. Her little voice made Spencer thankful that he even got the chance to hear it. This previous case had done a huge number on him, and somehow, (Y/n) and Sophia were conquering his bad thoughts with just their love.

At that, Spencer smiled, and as he turned his eyes over to stare at his glowing wife, he felt the emotions he always felt when he came home from a case. He felt welcome and whole. No matter what, he could come home and always have his family eagerly awaiting his arrival. Without them, Spencer wouldn't be Spencer, and he certainly wouldn't have something to look forward to in his life in general. Ten years ago, Spencer's heart and mind were consumed by books and his grueling job, but now, they were currently in the possession of his family - much better than plain texts on pages.

"I missed you guys too, sweetie," Spencer murmured, kissing the top of his already-sleeping daughter's head. At the same time, (Y/n) stepped closer to run her gentle fingers through Sophia's brunette curls. Her hair was just like Spencer's, and as he looked back at (Y/n), he saw her curling her fingers around Sophia's messy ringlets like she always does with Spencer's own wavy locks.

Smiling back at Spencer, (Y/n) leaned up a bit to kiss his lips, only to be pushed back down onto her feet by Spencer. The last thing he wanted was for her to strain too much and go into premature labor. Carrying Sophia was enough heart-attack material for the night, and Spencer definitely didn't need anything else that could cause a panic.

Copying (Y/n)'s actions from earlier, Spencer moved his free hand from her arm and up to her shoulder where he nudged her to sit down on her side of the bed. Already tired of being on her feet, she obliged without arguing and slowly laid down in her previous spot with her hand resting atop of her bump. Soon enough, Spencer was beside her with Sophia lying between them, her hand subconsciously finding its way to her mum's stomach as she got comfortable under their covers.

Quietly laughing from their daughter's movements, Spencer and (Y/n) looked at each other for a short second before Spencer moved forward and returned her kiss. It was only a few moments later that they pulled away as Spencer laid his arm over three of the most important people in his life, earning a happy smile back from his wife. "I'm really happy to be home," Spencer repeated himself, resting his head on his perched arm to look at his family before him. "There's no where else I'd rather be."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagines #Spencer Reid imagine #Spencer Reid #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds x reader #Spencer Reid x fem!reader #Spencer Reid x pregnant!reader #Matthew gray gubler #Matthew gray Gubler x reader #Matthew gray Gubler imagine #matthew gray Gubler imagines

[michelle-is-writing]

Sick, Ben Hardy

Word Count: 1.2k~

Saturday nights are always date nights for me and Ben. No matter what, we always go out and do something fun together. We'll go to dinner, watch a movie, see a game, anything that sounds like a good time. We always make an effort, and nothing ever stops us from spending time together.

However, as I lay in my bed with nonstop nausea filling my throat and stomach, I feel the need to cancel for tonight. During the seven months that we've been dating, neither of us have ever canceled a Friday night, and that's always something I love about us. Once again, we always make time for each other, so when I think about calling Ben and saying I can't go tonight, I feel even worse.

Reluctantly pressing the green button on Ben's contact, I hold my phone up to my ear and listen to the ringing tone as I wait for him to pick up. As more seconds pass, I find myself trying to hug my blankets as close to me as I can while my body begins to shiver. This stomach pain is starting to cause me to feel cold as well, and it sucks.

"Hello, darling," I hear Ben's voice pick up after the second ring, making me smile. I always love hearing his voice. It carries this tone of protection in it that gives off a feeling of happiness at the same time. "Are you ready for our date?"

At his question, I close my eyes and swallow down the guilt that rises to my throat as my smile lowers into a frown. He sounds so happy - excited, almost. Do I really have to take that away from him? All because of something that could probably be treated with medicine?

As soon as the thought of maybe suffering through the pain and going on a date, another stomach cramp pushes into me, making me almost hunch over in my bed to get through the pain. "Actually, Ben," I start, my free arm wrapping around my stomach as the stinging sensation passes. "I was calling to tell you that I can't come," I explain, my ears almost catching the sound of his heart breaking through the phone speaker. "I think I caught food poisoning from my friend's food at dinner we went to the other night."

"I ate it, and I seem fine," He tells me, his words making me shake my head with an amused smile.

"That's because you have an iron stomach, Ben," I joke, hearing him chuckle on the other end. "And, besides, if you can eat your own cooking, then you can eat practically anything."

"Oi!" Ben dramatically exclaims as if my words hit him with a punch. I laugh at his silliness. "Such harsh and hurtful words from the woman I love!" He further chides as I clench my already hurting stomach from laughing. He soon joins in on the laughing before speaking once more. "But that's alright love. I understand you're not feeling well. I love you! And I'll be over in ten minutes."

Just as quick as he said his last words, he hangs up, leaving me to stare across the room with wide eyes as my phone remains resting in my hand, Ben's picture flashing once before the screen goes dark. Did he really just pull a fast one on me? Just like that?

While thinking about Ben, yet another wave of nausea rolls over me, causing me to turn onto my side with my knees close to my chest, a pained groan escaping my lips at the same time. What if this isn't food poisoning, and it's something contagious, and I accidentally give it to Ben? It's not that I don't want him coming over (I'm glad that he is), but the last thing I want to do is make him sick as well.

For what feels like an eternity, I lay on my sides, switching between the two when another cramp comes along. It isn't long before I hear keys being inserted into my front door, twisting and turning before the piece of wood opens and closes a few short seconds later. Footsteps sound throughout my tiny apartment until my bedroom door gently opens, a head full of blond hair and shining blue eyes staring back at me as I smile from my current predicament on the bed.

"There she is," Ben says with a sweet smile. Wearing a plain grey t-shirt and black sweats, he takes one step into my room before happily sighing. "And just as beautiful as ever."

Blushing, I roll my eyes and flop onto my other side to dramatically turn my back to him, only receiving a laugh back before I feel his warm body settle behind my cold one. As soon as he touches me, it's as if all of my nausea and cramping dissipate, the warmth from his body acting as a heating pad for my achey body.

Ben wraps his arms around me and pulls me close to his body as he kisses my temple, his lips soft and warm like fresh pastries. At his sweet affection, I smile even more and raise my hands to rest on top of his, only for him to interlock our fingers together. Even when I'm sick and not able to do the things we usually do, he's still the best boyfriend I could ever ask for.

"Would you like me to make you some soup?" Ben asks, leaning down to nuzzle his face in my neck. Underneath the covers, his legs intertwine with mine, bringing me just enough warmth to stop shivering so bad.

"No, just lay here with me, please," I tell him, snuggling my body further in his hold as a soft sigh escapes my lips. There's nothing better than lying in the arms of the person you love - especially if they're a natural heater.

"Oh, and like I said earlier," I begin, remembering our earlier conversation. "Your cooking is something special," I remind Ben with a smirk, listening as he snickers behind me. Okay, maybe there's nothing better lying in the arms of your boyfriend and teasing him for his helpless qualities.

"I can put on a video or something, go off of that," Ben suggests, leaning his head over mine to cuddle closer to the front of my neck. "Or, I could be safe and just order something," he offers, making me smile.

"That would be nice," I tell Ben, nodding my head. Just as he goes to get up to grab his phone presumably, I tug him back down and snuggle even further into him. "In five minutes, of course," I clarify, hearing him snicker behind me again.

With a simple "okay," Ben gets himself comfortable once more before resuming holding me close. I guess no matter what, Saturday nights will always be our night and not even a stupid stomach bug can stop that.

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy imagines #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy x fem reader #ben jones #roger taylor #roger taylor imagines #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor fanfiction #roger taylor queen #queen band imagines #queen imagines #queen imagine #queen x reader

[michelle-is-writing]

Help, John Wick

Word Count: 2.8k~

Warnings: mention of gun fire, blood, injury, stitches

Working the evening shift sometimes proves to be a hassle, especially when I’m needed past midnight. On nights like these, I know as soon as I leave the hospital doors that I’m all alone in my somewhat safe city. The biggest issue in my city is the constant hidden dangers within it, as reported by the news many times. The attacks are always random, and the people are disguised, meaning no one can tell who is truly good or bad.

With the clock nearing 12:05, I’m finally able to clock out and head out of my hospital and to my car. On the way to my vehicle, I notice something weird about my driver side’s tires; they seem to be flat, but one has a knife stuck in it.

“What the…” my voice trails off as I look around my hospital’s parking lot, seeing maybe three or four other cars scattered throughout it. I’m already in a not-so-safe situation, and quite frankly, walking out alone late at night is not the best decision for someone like me to make.

Instead of risking my safety, I begin walking backwards to go back into the hospital before turning around, only to be knocked down on the ground by someone running into me from my left. As I fall with the person who rammed into me, my ears pick up distinct gunshots - something you hope to never hear when you’re leaving work late at night.

“Stay down!” A deep, gruff voice yells before the weight of the body on top of me is suddenly gone, and more gunshots ring out around me. Despite the pain from being slammed down, I still manage to shuffle away and get behind the bushes next to the pavement. It’s not the best cover, but it can at least help me figure out what the hell is going on right now.

Looking through the thick branches of leaves in front of me, I spot two people now revealed by the street lights as they shoot toward the entrance of the hospital. “Why would anyone shoot at a hospital?!” I find myself muttering before I jerk my head over to the doors. There stands a dark-haired man dressed in an all black suit, a pistol in his hands as well. Only two shots are fired from that pistol before all gunshots come to a stop, but before I have any time to process what has just happened, the man is running toward me. I’ve never seen him before, and he certainly doesn’t look like someone who could shoot two people in two clear shots. His face is even cast with concern as he nears the bushes I hide behind, a hand outreached for me.

“We need to go! Now!” He tells me, grabbing my hand before yanking me up from the ground and taking off. With his hand firmly gripping my hand, I’m left with no other choice but to run with him. Feeling my fight-or-flight instincts kick in, I recognize the rush of anxiety flowing through me as well as so much confusion. Why am I running with a man who just shot several men either wounded or dead? He’s obviously trying to help me, but who exactly is he trying to protect me from?

After running across the parking lot to a car parked in the shade, the man yells at me to get in, but as I near the passenger side door, I feel myself halt as time slowly passes around me. My body feels as if it’s stuck in honey, unable to move or do anything, and my mind doesn’t feel much better.

“Get in now!” The man yells one more time, fully snapping me out of my stupor and bringing my attention to the door handle of an older car as I open it before climbing in. Alongside me is the man falling into the driver's side, quickly turning the engine on before speeding out of the parking lot. Speeding lights pass all around me while my eyes fall to my arms and hands, a burning sensation taking over my limbs. My palms and elbows are scratched up from the fall, droplets of blood adorning the scrapes before leading down to the new holes on the knees of my scrub pants, crimson liquid beginning to show through there as well.

In this moment, as my brain now begins to process the oncoming stings and burns, I turn my head toward the man, finding him to be focusing every ounce of his attention on the road in front of us as he speeds way above the limit. “What just happened?” I ask him, my voice almost disturbing him from his focus as he slightly jolts in his seat. “What’s going on?”

He shakes his head, his long hair moving along with him as he seemingly ponders if he should answer my question or not. For a few seconds, he remains quiet before sighing and giving in. “It’s… hard to explain,” he starts, giving me a cautious glance before looking back at the road in front of him as he speeds through traffic. Between taking sharp turns and darting in between cars, I can’t help but grasp the door with all my might to keep me from going all over the place.

“A couple days ago, you treated a patient, a man who came in with a bullet wound directly below his heart,” The man explains, making me stare at him confused. I did have a patient come in with those exact issues, but he told us he was mugged and that’s why he was shot. Why would someone try to attack a mugging victim in the way they did?

“Well, the guy wasn’t exactly mugged, and the people who shot him thought you were helping out him and his… group,” he further adds, making my eyes widen in a mix of horror and confusion. “They didn't even know your name or anything about you and they still tried to put a hit on you, all because you helped him survive. He asked me to make sure nothing happened to you, said you were a sweet girl, and I promised him I would keep you safe,” he nods his head toward the road. “So, here we are.”

Despite his explanation definitely being… weird, I don’t question him any more about it, and instead, I ask him something else. “What’s your name?”

At my question, he gives me a wary glance before answering. “John,” he tells me, gaining a nod back from me.

“John, I think you got shot,” I inform him, my eyes falling to his bloody arm. It looks like the bullet either grazed or went completely through his arm, but nonetheless, it’s still bleeding like a gunshot wound.

John barely reacts, only nodding his head “I know,” he simply explains as if it were something simple and not a bullet wound. “I’ll take you somewhere safe until we know what the group is trying to achieve.”

His words barely register in my ears before I’m turning in my seat to shake my head at him. “No, no, we need to go to my apartment,” I urge him, and just as I expected, he begins to tell me it’s not safe. “But my dogs are there!” I quickly argue back, feeling my heart pound away in my chest.

In an instant, it’s like a flip in his head switches, and he gives me a small nod in response to my words. “Okay,” he simply mutters, “Show me how to get there.”

Arriving at my apartment, John parks the car way down my street before having us run up to my back gate and get in through there. By the looks of it, my apartment seems to be untouched, and after John does a quick run through, I’m able to let out a sigh of relief. I’ve witnessed a lot of crazy things tonight, and the fact that I have a man whom I just met in my house after being shot at is crazy. However, my dogs don’t seem to care about the crazy night I’ve had as they’re too busy trying to get John to pet them. In spite of what I witnessed him do earlier in the midst of gunfire, seeing him act like a complete teddy bear around my dogs practically makes my heart skip a beat.

“Sit down here, John,” I tell him, gesturing to stools by my counter as I wash my hands in the kitchen sink. “So I can stitch up your arm,” I add, drying the water from my hands before gathering the stuff I need from my medicine cabinet. He nods at my words before sitting and waiting patiently, now with my smallest dog in his lap. Beside him are my other dogs, all sitting beside him as if they were all best friends already.

Smiling at the sight, I look up from my dogs to meet his eyes, only to be greeted by his chocolate-like eyes already staring back into mine. However, I quickly look away and begin helping him take his coat off all the while remaining careful about the arm he got shot in. It’s only after I cut the arm of his sleeve off and begin gently cleaning the dried up blood off his arm that John speaks up. “Do you treat all your patients like this?” He asks, a small smile taking over his lips as the question falls from his mouth.

I find myself smiling back at him before moving onto clean the actual wound. “Only special ones,” I tell him, earning a small chuckle back from him despite me pressing gauze with alcohol against the bullet wound on his arm. I choose not to mention it, and instead point out all of my dogs’ sudden fondness for the man. “They really like you,” I point out before examining his wound. The bullet went through the very edge of his arm, avoiding his humerus or anything major. Despite it leaving a decent sized wound, it’s still a pretty easy fix, thankfully.

Telling John he’ll need stitches only gains a hum back from him. Even when I poke the needle through his skin and pull it through, he still fails to react, and instead, John speaks up with the same tone of voice he had earlier. “I love dogs,” John confesses, using his free hand to scratch the wrinkles on my pug’s forehead. “And they’re all so cute too,” he adds, once again, not showing any sign of pain as I finish suturing his arm.

“That’s a good thing, that you love dogs,” I tell him, dressing his arm before taping it. “It shows a lot about someone,” I add, watching as he watches me closely, yet softly. As time goes on, I anticipate his next words, but even now, he still doesn’t mention it.

“I’m sorry we met this way,” John’s apology takes me by surprise, causing me to look away from his arm and stare at him. “I wish this could’ve been under better circumstances,” he adds, a small sigh falling from his lips afterward. “You’re a truly wonderful person; you didn’t deserve to be a target tonight.”

Instead of agreeing with him, I sigh as well before smiling and speaking up. “If it weren’t for you, they would’ve shot me. Over something I haven’t the slightest clue on,” I point out to him, “I know there are things that go on in this city, and I never expected to be in the middle of it, but I am eternally grateful that you were there and able to save me tonight,” Taking his hand in mine, I maintain eye contact with him and squeeze his hand. “You saved my life tonight. Thank you.”

At my words, John smiles back and nods. “No problem, nurse (Y/n),” he tells me, his thumb gently running across the back of my hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here to do it again,” he adds, making my smile grow even more as his eyes never leave mine. I don’t doubt the mysterious stranger will hold true to his word, but at the same time, I want to learn more about the man outside of saving me from the city’s dangers.

“And I’ll be here to patch you up again,” I tell him back, giving his hand a quick squeeze before turning to put away all of my medical supplies. “In the meantime,” I start, glancing between him and my kit as my dogs take the opportunity to swarm him. “Would you mind explaining to me a little bit about what exactly goes on in this city?”

John doesn’t respond right away, and instead, he chooses to stand up beside me in spite of the protests from his new furry friends. Putting away the rolled gauze and cotton balls, I look over at him as he appears beside me, only to earn another small smile from him like before. “Too much for one night,” he tells me, placing a gentle hand on my arm as if to stop me from messing with my medical supplies. “For right now, you need to sleep. You’ve had a long day,” he points out. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to make sure you continue to stay safe for the night. Is it alright if I stay here?”

Seeing him gesture toward my living room where all of my dogs sit and eagerly wait for him to join them on the couch makes a small laugh leave my lips. If it weren’t for him saving my life and my dogs being so trusting of him, then I probably wouldn’t be as confident as I am with letting him stay. “Actually, I would prefer that,” I tell him, before nodding at the couch behind him. “Although I don’t think you’ll be alone, unfortunately.”

Just as I say that, all the dogs run over to us and stare up at him, causing John to look down at my dogs with a smile before his expression changes into one of concern. “You need to be bandaged as well,” He tells me, causing me to look down and see my busted up knees once more, reminding me off the dull pain currently shooting from them. “Let me do it,” he further adds before gently pushing me to sit back on the stool just like I had done with him.

“I can handle them, it’s okay,” I tell him with a chuckle. “I’ve handled much worse on myself.”

Despite my words, John doesn’t respond to me, and instead, he opens my med kit back up and begins taking out the same kind of supplies I used on him, all except for the sterilized needle and string thankfully. He doesn’t argue with me on me taking care of myself, but he acts as if I hadn’t said anything to him either.

Strangely, I allow him to take care of my wounds without interrupting him, settling for watching him instead. It’s only when he moves onto rolling my scrub pants above my knees that I find myself regretting my decision. His touch is seemingly nothing more than that of someone who cares, but I can’t help but feel the small degree of intimacy in the moment. I can’t decide if it’s his slightly rough, yet gentle hands grazing my skin or just the close proximity of him on his knees in front of me, but my mind is scrambled right now.

“Told you I’d keep you safe, right?” I hear him say, bringing me out of my stupor and down to him once again. His eyes remain on his task at hand, being careful as ever while cleaning my wounds. Instead of responding, I smile and simply nod back at him, relaxing a little as I do so. He seems to pick up on this, a soft, small smile making its way onto his face as well as he moves onto bandaging the now clean scrapes and cuts.

Once again, I feel his hands touch my skin with gentleness and care, but at the same time, I can’t help but revel in the sensualness of it as well. It doesn’t help that there are times that his touch lingers more than necessary and the smile on his face still has yet to die down. I can’t help but feel bad for the thoughts currently flowing through my mind, but a part of me likes the idea of him staying with me - minus the reason why, of course. Another part of me hopes this isn’t just a one time thing either.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick imagine #John wick imagines #john wick fanfic #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves #Keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #Keanu reeves imagines #keanu reeves fanfic #john wick chapter 4 #john wick 4 #keanu #keanuverse

[michelle-is-writing]

Crayons, Steve Harrington

Word count: 1.1k~

From the day we got Evelyn's school supplies, Steve has showed his excitement for his growing little girl in every way he could. Most parents would be sad over their babies getting older and going to their first year of school (a.k.a. me), but Steve was different.

He was so involved in getting her the notebooks she wanted and teaching her pointers on how to color better than the rest of the kids. Steve even wanted to come with us to shop for clothes when I needed to get Evelyn new clothes for the fall. Although, it eventually just turned into me shutting him up after a while as he wouldn't stop trying to get Evelyn "cool" clothes. I think Steve failed to realize that our six year old shouldn't have the same title as he did at the age of sixteen.

Thankfully, Steve soon forgot about what clothes he thought our child should wear and smiled when he saw our little girl ready for her first day. She may have been  wearing a pink sweater and plaid skirt instead of the jean jacket and pants combination like he wanted, but nothing beat her award winning smile. Just like Steve, she was excited for her first day of school.

"And you're sure you have everything I packed you?" I ask our little girl, walking through the doors of her school beside Steve as he holds her to his side. Evelyn only nods, the same smile still stuck to her face. "So, you're promising me that you didn't take out the crayons to color with last night?"

In response, Evelyn giggles and hides her face in Steve's shoulder, making him smirk. "I was just trying them out, mommy," she murmurs, her voice slightly muffled by Steve's shirt.

Seeing her act the way she is, I can tell she's slowly becoming shy. However, it doesn't last long as we soon end up in her kindergarten classroom with rest of the kids and parents. Once she realizes that there are kids around, she immediately begins to clamber out of Steve's arms and onto the floor where she joins the other kids. Slowly, they all begin introducing themselves with enthusiasm filling all of their young and high voices.

Although, what strikes me as odd is Steve's calmness. Instead of speaking to me with a fast voice and practically rolling on his heels, he's just standing beside me peacefully while a soft smile rests on his lips. His sudden change of mood is strange, and I can't help but wonder if everything is okay.

"Everything okay, baby?" I ask, taking his hand in mine. "You seem a bit off."

In response, Steve turns toward me with that same smile before wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me close. "What if I told you... I have been in love with you since we were kids..." He tells me, his thumb gently rubbing against my clothed hip. "I remember, the first time I talked to you, I was showing you my pack of seventy-two crayons."

"Yeah, you were practically boasting about them," I whisper, lightly laughing. Moving my hand up to rest on his chest, I lightly shake my head with a smirk. "Rich parents and shit."

"I would never!" He quickly defends himself, "I let you use them whenever you wanted!"

"And the minute I accidentally broke one, I was prohibited from using anymore," I remind him before looking back over at Evelyn. Now she's sitting at a table with a boy in front of her as they excitedly talk to each other. It's only then that I realize he's pushing a box of seventy-two crayons toward her, and at the sight alone, I can't help but chuckle a little. "Steve, look."

Instantly, he does, before his eyes widen. "Oh, no," He murmurs at the sight, making me nearly burst with laughter. He sees the box of seventy-two crayons too, and I know what is exactly going through his mind. "She has to move seats."

"Steve!" I scold him, lightly hitting his arm. "It is not that serious!"

"It is too!" Steve responds, looking at me with the same widened eyes. "That's how our friendship started, and now look at us," He then holds his hand out toward Evelyn. "We have her!"

"Mister Harrington," We hear a strict, yet playful voice say behind us, causing both me and Steve to turn around and see Mrs. Kensington - the woman who used to be our teacher. "Still being a disturbance as usual?" She chides, smirking as she walks toward us.

"Always, ma'am," Steve responds to her with playful comment, making her shake her head with that same smirk. Turning toward me, her smile brightens as she speaks up once more.

"Miss (Y/n), still beautiful as ever," Mrs. Kensington compliments me, causing me to smile back at here. "And I see you did end up with Steve after all," she adds, "I had a feeling that would happen - but, I'm glad it did. I can't wait to teach your little girl," she tells us, her eyes slightly narrowing on Steve one last time. "Hopefully, she won't be as rambunctious as you were, mister Harrington."

With that, Evelyn's new teacher turns away and heads toward some other parents to speak to. This then leaves me and Steve to look at each other again, my lips widening as our eyes meet. "You were a little shit back in kindergarten," I note, whispering up to him as his eyes slightly widen.

"I was not a little shit!" He whispers back, making me slightly giggle.

"Well at least I know Evelyn is in good hands," I tell him, looking back at our little girl as she tells her new classmates different stories, each with enthusiasm and detail. "If Mrs. Kensington could tolerate you, she can tolerate anyone."

Instead of arguing or even defending himself, Steve sighs with a tired smile as he rolls his eyes before lowering a hand down to rest on my stomach. "I wasn't lying when I said I knew in kindergarten that you were the one," He murmurs, gently swaying me as I watch Evelyn with a smile. "And now that were married and we have Evelyn, I'm happy that I was able to offer you my crayons."

Despite his confession being a little goofy toward the end, I can't help but feel my heart skip a beat as Steve holds me closer to him. There wasn't a day that went by that Steve didn't offer me his crayons (even though I may have broken a few) and as we got older, it was the same way, but with other objects. Now that I think of it, I may have fallen in love with Steve when we were kids too; but unlike him, my love for him didn't start with love-at-first-crayon.

#Steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #billy hargrove #jonathan byers

[michelle-is-writing]

Food, Peter Maximoff

If you ask anyone, they'd say I'm a clean freak. If you ask Peter, he'd say I'm a "crazy-clean-a-holic." I love him, but he can be kind of messy when it comes to everyday activities. For example, most people would not think eating twenty twinkies within a single day is a normal thing, but for Peter, there's nothing bad about it. He burns off every calorie he eats with his constant running, so it's not entirely a bad thing. However, you would think that he would at least throw away the wrapper to all those twinkies, right?

Wrong.

Without fail, Peter is always leaving his trash all over the place. I have found candy wrappers in the bedroom, the pantry floor, between the couch cushions - I repeat: everywhere. To put it simply, Peter is messy! Plus, he doesn't always watch what he's doing, so when I see him walk into our shared bedroom with a full bag of chips, I pause what I'm doing to stop him in his actions.

"Uh-uh. Go back to the kitchen," I tell him as soon as he steps in the room. Immediately, he stops in his actions with cautious eyes and an impeccable balance. Not even a flying rock could make him budge. "You cannot come into this bed."

Looking at me with pouting eyes, Peter let's out a sigh and slumps his shoulders. "I won't make a mess - I promise!" He tells me, making me purse my lips at him. There is no way he could ever not be messy when he's eating - no way.

"Peter, you always make a mess when you eat anywhere but a table," I remind him, sitting up in bed with my arms crossed against my chest. "Even at the table, you manage to get your food all over the place," I add, watching him closely as he sits down on the bed, his feet planted firmly on the ground with his bag of chips now in his lap.

"Yeah, but I pick up after myself afterward, don't I?" He asks, turning his head back to me.

At his words, I laugh. "Yes, you brush everything into your hand and then toss it back into your mouth," I point out to him, internally cringing at the reminder of my boyfriend's gross habit. "And by the way, it's so gross when you do that! Do you know how many germs you might be putting in your mouth?" Not to mention the lack of table manners, but that's a discussion for another time.

Peter's mouth pops open in response, appalled I would even criticize him for something that is so normal for him. "Well, I don't want to waste it!" He argues back, pulling more of his body onto the bed so he can face me better.

"Peter, we live in school with over a hundred kids constantly running around and making messes - messes which you sometimes help them create!" I exclaim, leaning back into my pillow with a groan. "Just think of all the times they've played outside, covered in sweat and mud, only to run back inside and rub their grubby hands all over the dining hall table," Staring at the ceiling, I sigh. "And then imagine you eating at that table and then eating the crumbs that come into contact- Damn it, Peter!"

Just as I turn my head up from the pillow, my eyes quickly catch onto Peter with his food now on the bed as he eagerly munches on one of the many barbecue chips. On the comforter beneath him is all of the fallen crumbs from the several chips he's undoubtedly stuffed in his mouth with his super-speed. I told him - I told him - not to get in bed for this exact reason.

At the tone of my voice alone, Peter realizes he's messed up and quickly halts in his chewing, and instead, slowly turns his eyes toward me with almost a scared haze filling them. "I didn't mean to?" He lies with a small smile, holding his hands up in an almost shrugging manner. However, despite this being his attempt to appear as innocent, this only causes more crumbs to cover the sheets and blankets.

"Peter, you're getting crumbs all over the bed!" I exclaim once again, laughing as I move to try and playfully push him out of bed. However, with the super-human speed he has, I'm not very successful as I end up landing on my stomach with Peter now standing up beside the bed, his chip bag back in his hand as he resumes munching on his snack.

"Crumbs are easily cleaned, baby," He assures me, a quick flash of grey falling before my eyes as the color of the blanket flashes a few times in front of me a few times. Before I know it, Peter is sitting beside me with his legs underneath the covers and his lips planted firmly on my cheek. Looking down at my blankets, I see them now completely flattened and smoothed out, meaning he tossed the blanket into the air before letting me see and putting it back down on top of me, now free of crumbs. "See?"

At his question, I smile before turning my head and kissing him. Although it isn't long before I pull away and lean my head onto his shoulder, his freshly cut silver hair brushing against my forehead as I do so. "If only you could be this quick in cleaning anything else," I murmur, giggling as Peter quickly pushes me onto my back with his body now on top of mine.

"I tried my best!" He exclaims, smiling as I try to push him off of me. However, he doesn't give, and instead of rolling back over onto his side, Peter lies completely on top of me with his arms wrapped around me tightly. "And because you just had to complain about me showing my love for you, you can't leave this bed for the rest of the night."

"'Showing my love for you'," I repeat his words, snickering. "All you did was clean up your own mess from the bed, Peter," I point out, raising my hands to rest on his sides. He's always so sarcastic, and yet, he's sweet at the same time.

"I love you," He tells me with a small sigh. "But for five seconds, can you not be unsatisfied?" Peter asks me, his voice dangerously close to my ear as he keeps his head beside mine on my pillow.

Turning my head toward him, I find his nose lining up with mine as his dark brown eyes meet mine, a gentleness filling them like always. Just at the sight of the man I love, I sigh with a smile and lean in close to press another small kiss to his lips. "Thank you," I tell him, moving one of my hands from his sides and up to his soft cheek. "And even though you're sometimes messy, I love you too."

At that, Peter smiles back before returning the kiss with a small one of his own. "I love you so much," He tells me, slowly sliding onto his side of the bed with me still resting in his arms. I guess I really won't be leaving the bed for the rest of the night. "And thank you for cleaning up after me - even though you shouldn't have to."

Peter doesn't usually say such raw things, but when he does, I know he means them with all his heart. So, instead of continuing on with my teasing, I let my amusement pass through and let the moment turn into one of seriousness. "I wouldn't have it any other way," I confess, my voice soft as I watch Peter smile once again. No other words have to be exchanged for me to know that Peter feels the same way, and with that, I know that our relationship is a special one that will last - messes and all.

#peter maximof x reader #peter maximof #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff imagines #peter maximof imagin #peter maximof imagine #xmen #xmen x reader #xmen imagine #xmen imagines

[michelle-is-writing]

Concussions, Greg House

Word count: 1.7k~

Warnings: mentions of vomit, concussion, hospital rooms.

Arguing with your boss is one of the worst things you can do with your boss. For my boyfriend of almost a year, it was nothing new. Plus, in Greg's mind, there were worse things one could do with their time. Like argue with me, his girlfriend - that was much worse than arguing with his boss, according to him.

Still, that didn't mean that he could always get away with arguing with his boss. Especially around Christmas time when the hours were needed and he just so happened to be an asshole. Anyone could figure out why I was upset when he told me he was unable to get Christmas Day off. He just had to be rude to Cuddy the day before he asked, and because of it, we both have to suffer.

Despite him promising to call me almost every hour, I still felt lonely when it came to Christmas Day. I woke up without the love of my life beside me, and I'll be alone until he gets home around nine in the evening. When Cuddy told him she couldn't give up the hours, he was especially rude in response, therefore earning more hours to work that day.

Right now it's around eleven in the morning, and even though I've put on a Christmas movie and made myself hot cocoa, I still feel sad. I have no one to spend this great day with, and it sucks. Maybe a nice walk outside will help me feel better. It's cold and snowing, but I can always wear a heavy coat and boots - no biggie. Besides, I may even see a pair of cardinals flying through the white sky like a holiday card straight from the hallmark section, and it would make the weather all the worth it.

Slipping on my fuzzy black boots that Greg got me at the beginning of our relationship, I throw on my fleece coat before heading out front. The lights strung on everyone's apartment are lit up, and the people that have their Christmas trees in front of their windows have them lit up as well. The green and red bulbs are a nice contrast to the white snow that fills every window sill and yard, making it look almost like a floating blanket on all the little segments of grass. It's such a beautiful sight to see, but it makes me miss Greg even more. He's always pessimistic, but even he would be happy with the looks of everything.

Stepping off the steps and onto the pavement, I take a few steps forward, only to look up and see a pair of cardinals flying above me just like I wanted. I marvel at the beautiful red shade of the male next to the equally beautiful olive colored female floating next to it. When they find their mates, a pair of cardinals can never be separated as they are mated for life. The idea of such a thing makes you smile, but the idea of finding your own true mate? It feels nearly impossible.

I seem to find the cardinals very distracting as the next thing I see is the pure white sky above me as I feel myself slip, my arms and legs flailing to grab onto something as I fall backward. However, they don't, and I end up landing on my back with my head colliding against the ice I slipped on. Everything happens so fast that I barely recognize the pain rushing to my cranium or mine and Greg's elderly neighbor rushing toward me as concerned words flow out of her mouth. Despite wanting to respond, I can't, and instead, my eyes close as I feel myself slip into a vast sea on unconsciousness.

It isn't until I finally wake up once again that I register the pounding pain in the back of my head. It nearly makes my eyes roll back, but before I can even do that, I quickly lean over the edge of the surface I'm lying on and feel the contents of my stomach empty. I soon feel a pair of hands gently pull my hair back as I do so, my eyes clearing up enough to watch a nurse’s legs in purple scrubs quickly push a trash can in front of me to finish vomiting into. However, it doesn't take long before I’m done and I almost fall back onto the slightly stiff surface I'm on, a damp cloth wiping at my mouth once I do so. Flashing my eyes throughout the room, I recognize the bright fluorescent lights above me as ones used in a hospital room and the surface I'm on is one of the uncomfortable beds in a hospital room. Great.

Turning my eyes over to the source of the hand holding the wet cloth, I find it to be the man I've been wanting to see all morning, a worried look etched onto his face. I want to fling myself in his arms and hug him, but my almost drunken haze prohibits me from doing so. Instead, I languidly smile and tiredly reach a hand up toward him, to which he takes in his own hand with a small smile.

"How in the hell," he begins, his voice taking over the almost stuffy noise in my ears. Gently running his thumb against the back of my hand, he takes the damp rag away from my face before tossing it onto the lid of the biohazard bin a few feet away. "Did you get yourself a grade two concussion just by walking outside?"

"I didn't mean to," I defend myself, trying to sit up a little, despite the deep pounding in my head. Greg helps me, but not before pushing my head back against the pillows to angle my face upward. "I just wanted to go for a small walk, and see some cardinals maybe! I did, by the way, and man, were they beautiful."

"You seem to be doing better than I thought," Greg points out, hovering over me to look into my eyes with a flash light. "No confusion or seemingly dizziness," he lists off. "You just seem fatigued and dazed, which is to be expected. The good news is you don't have memory loss."

"Who are you again?" I quickly throw at him, earning a downcast face with a frown. I immediately laugh at his reaction while reaching up to take his face in my hands, but his hands catch mine before they're even halfway there. I really am tired.

"I would say you're also having some psychological disturbances, but it's nothing different from usual," Greg jokes back, making me laugh again. At this, he smiles, but continues on. "How bad is your head pain?"

"Compared to the constant headache you give me, it's nothing," I tell him, once again, earning an eye roll in response. I know he's wanting to throw playful insults back at me, but he's trying to keep the moment as serious as he can. Don't get me wrong, I understand how severe my situation is, but I just can't help but take the chance to banter with Greg like he usually does with me.

With a sigh, Greg sits back in the armchair beside my hospital bed before taking something out of his pocket. "You just had to hit your head so you could end up in the hospital with me today," Greg chides, holding the rectangular box in his hand as he stares at it. "I guess irony plays a huge part in life's never ending game of... slipping and falling on ice!"

With his sarcastic comment, Greg pushes the box toward me as I smile at him, my hand reaching out to take the box from him. "Open it," Greg tells me, scooting his chair beside me to be closer to my bed. Doing as he says, I shakily unwrap the green ribbon from the box before slightly struggling to open it, my hands trembling from being asleep for so long.

With the maroon velvet box now open, I gasp upon seeing the diamond tennis bracelet shining back at me with the bright hospital room lights causing each beautiful crystal to sparkle like a thousand pieces of glitter. "Oh my God, Greg," I mutter, my eyes flashing over to him beside me. "This is... beyond gorgeous."

Smiling, Greg lifts one of his hands to brush my hair away from my face before using the other to take the bracelet out of the box and secure it around my wrist. "Merry Christmas," He tells me, leaning over to kiss my cheek. "I thought you would like this."

"I-I love it, Greg," I tell him, looking over at him with a frown. "But I don't have my gift for you! They're at the apartment and-and I wanted to give it to you so bad-"

Greg cuts me off from my rambling, an almost flabbergasted expression washing over his face. "Are you kidding?" He sarcastically asks me, reaching over to take my now diamond covered hand in his. "You ending up in the hospital with me is possibly the best thing you could do today, as morbid as it sounds," Crinkling my face at him with amusement, I shake my head at his demented words as he continues on. "This means I don't have to do what Cuddy says and stay in here with you and watch I Love Lucy."

Just as he says this, Greg takes the remote from the side table and turns the TV on, flipping through the channels before finding the show mentioned seconds earlier. Glancing away from our intertwined hands, I smile at Greg as he turns to look back at me as well. "I love you, Greg," I tell him, receiving a smile back before he leans over once more and presses a kiss to my cheek.

Sitting back in his chair, Greg keeps my hand in his as we both look over to the TV and watch as Lucy banters with Ricky just as Greg and I did moments ago. At this, I smile and ignore the pain in my head as I enjoy the positives of today despite being in a hospital. My loving partner beside me, a beautiful diamond bracelet on my wrist, and I Love Lucy reruns on the TV in front of us. As long as I'm with Greg, it doesn't matter where I spend my Christmas - just as long as he's by my side, I'll be fine.

#greg house #gregory house #house #dr house #greg house x reader #greg house imagine #greg house imagines #gregory house imagine #gregory house x reader #gregory house imagines #house md #house md x reader #house md imagine #house md imagines #dr house x reader #dr house imagine #dr house imagines

[michelle-is-writing]

Surprise, Surprise, Greg House

Word Count: 1.1k~

Surprising Greg at work is always fun. Most of the time, he's messing around with the items on his desk until I walk in which ultimately causes him to perk up right away. I'm always happy to see him, and going by the smile that pops up on his face when he first sees me, Greg is happy to see me too. Plus, it always helps that we've been together for several years too.

"House, you have a guest," Wilson states, quickly popping his head into the doorway of Greg's office before popping right back out. Watching him walk back to the elevators, I wave at Wilson before opening Greg's door.

"Surprising," I hear Greg mindlessly mutter before I walk in. Once he sees me, he lightly smiles and changes his words. "Not surprising," He corrects himself, sitting up in his chair. "But pleasant."

"I brought you lunch," I tell him, gesturing to the bag in my hand with a smile. Placing the paper bag on his desk, I sit down in the chair across from him with his desk separating us. "That way you don't have to steal anyone else's."

"You know me so well," Greg chides, placing the magazine in his hands down before opening the bag of food. Taking all of the contents out of the bag reveals two sandwiches and two bags of chips with a bottled drink for each one. "Funny," He notes. "These are the things I would have stolen from Wilson."

Laughing at his sad, yet true comment, I separate everything out and place a Reuben sandwich in front of each of us, Greg already digging into one of the yellow bags of potato chips. "I'm glad I got to come see you today," I confess, the sight of the food making me feel a little sick. "I have some... great news to share."

"Oh, really?" Greg asks, looking up at me. I nod, smiling as he pushes his chair back a little. "Well, then why don't you come over here and tell me all about it?" He suggests with that ever so sly smirk.

Knowing what that means, I gently roll my eyes and stand from my chair before walking over to Greg and sitting on his lap. Instantly, he wraps his arms around me and holds me close, leaning up a little to kiss my lips. This is one of the very few ways Greg shows his love. He always says it's because he gets to hold me closer to him, but I think it's just because I'm sitting on his lap.

"You know," he begins his sentence, nibbling at my neck. "With one simple movement, you instantly have me at your will. How odd is that?" Greg questions me, his voice sultry and low. Smiling at him, I lightly giggle before pushing him away enough so he can look straight at me.

"Greg, I need to tell you something," I state, my voice a bit serious. Even though I'm trying to keep a straight voice without letting my excitement show through, I keep my smile in hopes of him not getting worried. I hope this news finds him well, and it doesn't make him mad or angry... I don't know what I would do if he left me because of it.

Leaning back in his swivel chair to look at me, he continues smiling while running his hand up and down my side. "Go on," he encourages me, his blue eyes staring into mine. "I'm listening, my sweet."

My cheeks slightly blush at the endearment before I look away, sudden nervousness hitting me. "I'm, uh, I'm..." Just as I begin to speak, I choke up before sighing. "I'm pregnant, Greg," I fully answer him, having the guts to look him straight in the eye as I do so.

He takes a moment to listen to me, only to fully realize what I'm saying within seconds. In shock, he stares at me with wide eyes before breaking out into a nervous chuckle. "You're serious, right?" He asks, making my eyebrows furrow. My reaction causes him to become worried as his smile drops. "Please don't be joking," Greg begs, placing his hands on my arms.

His words slightly... befuddle me. Is the cold and emotionless House actually excited about me being pregnant? For him to question me to make sure I'm not joking makes me... I don't know what it makes me actually.

Does Greg want a child? I know we didnt plan this little one, but there's no going back now. I mean, Greg is quite a few years older than me and I would've never thought he'd want a kid this late in life, but Gregory House is Gregory House. If there's one thing that signifies Gregory House, it's that he's weird and unusual, and he never conforms to what is socially acceptable.

"No, I'm not joking, Greg," I tell him, placing his hands on my stomach. "There's a little baby right here," With Greg staring up at me with big eyes and an equally big smile, tears quickly make their way to my eyes. "You're going to be a father," I whisper, leaning forward and placing my forehead against his.

A few moments of silence pass before Greg grins and wraps his arms tighter around me. In a quick turn of events, he stands up with our feet planted on the ground and his arms still around me, a giggle falling from my lips as he does so. Before I know it, Greg is moving my shirt up to place his hands on my barely swollen tummy, resting them there as I hug him to me as well. “Thank you,” He murmurs, smiling before connecting our lips in another kiss. At the same time, he moves his hands to my waist to hold me there, his hold reflecting the passion behind our kiss.

#house md #greg house #gregory house #greg house imagine #greg house x reader #greg house imagines #gregory house x reader #gregory house imagine #gregory house imagines #gregory house fanfiction #greg house fanfiction #house md fanfiction #house md imagines #house md imagine #house md x reader

[michelle-is-writing]

Relax, Donny Donowitz

I tried my best with German in this imagine as I know a little (just basics), so if there are any corrections that need to be made, please message me! Thank you!

Warning: violence, Nazis, death, brutality with a bat, gunfire, ending is a bit NSFW 

Word count: 2.1k~

For a week, the basterds had nothing to do. The very person they were trying to find had seemingly gone on holiday, and no information on where he had travelled to was available to us. As soon as he left, it seemed as if the world itself had calmed down. The men were finally able to write and send out their letters to their mothers and loved ones at home while others were left to rest and catch up on what was going on in the world that didn't involve the ongoing war or guns.

Specifically, Donny enjoyed the first few days of freedom from his duties as we were all able to stay at a hostel for that week and rest. The hostel was run by a kind man who, come to find, also hated the current ongoing regime in his home country. Because of this, he was more than willing to help the basterds in our mission.

Donny and I both got to have breakfast with each other every morning, and later on, we had the ability to get lost in each other in nothing but the bed sheets and moonlight without the possibility of anyone walking in or complaining. In a way, we got to finally act like a normal couple for once in a very long time. It was just us to ourselves, and we weren't complaining.

However, on the fifth day of rest, Donny seemed tense, almost irritated. He woke up, sat at the breakfast table, and drank coffee with me while I jotted down status reports on the missions we completed. Being the Basterd's (I guess you could say) secretary, it was my job to do such things. I wrote down information about soldiers and their lives, mission statuses and details, and even small facts about the Basterds themselves. Being the fiancé of the infamous "Bear Jew," my job was mildly easy as my source of information was usually right beside me when given the chance.

For Donny, on the other hand, his work mostly entailed beating the enemies to a pulp with his bat in hand or just simply shooting them. It was a way for him to release any fury and anger he held, while at the same time, protect his country and everyone involved in it. The opposing side was always his target, and if he were to see any of them at any time, he would surely pull back on his trigger and release the fire held within him.

"Donny, what's the matter?" I ask him, looking up from my papers to stare at the handsome man in front of me. In his usual attire, he's hot, but when he's dressed in nothing but a simple pair of cotton pants, the matching button-up top thrown off long ago, he looks absolutely delectable.

"I work too much," he simply answers, staring down at his cup of coffee, not an ounce of sugar or cream in the dark liquid. "I'm so used ta missions and fighting that... I kinda forgot how ta relax," he adds on with a small laugh as he turns his attention to look at me.

Smiling, I ponder through my thoughts for a few seconds before standing from the table and walking over to him. As soon as I’m within arms length of Donny, he pulls me close and sits me in his lap where he immediately begins pressing feather-like kisses against the exposed skin of my arm while his rough hands dance across my bare thighs. Just like his shirt, my pants had been long forgotten about as well.

"What if we had some fun today?" I suggest, instantly receiving Donny's eager lips on my neck. Before he can fully begin in his actions, I stop him with my hand on his head and a smile on my lips. "Not that type of fun," I quickly reiterate, gaining a groan of protest from the man.

"What if we went to a field and played... baseball?" I ask him, looking down to see him with an eyebrow raised questionably.

"Baseball?" He repeats the word in a question-like voice. "I haven't played that since we were in Boston," A few seconds pass before he smiles. "Although, I guess it would fun playing with you."

Almost immediately, he stands from his chair with me still in his arms. I can't help but giggle and wrap my arms around his neck even tighter, just as he likes it. I have to enjoy these moments with Donny because I never know when I'll be able to repeat them, or if I’ll get them again. Sometimes, missions can draw on from one week to one month, and during that time, the feeling of loneliness is inevitable. When you're so used to someone's warm arms around you all the time, you can't help but yearn for that when they're away.

Getting dressed was a hassle with Donny trying to kiss me at any chance he got, but I guess it isn't any different from what he's been doing for the past few years. Before leaving, we gathered his bat (free of any enemy blood, of course) and a ball the hostel keeper had lying around. We then traveled out to a field not too far from the inn, no one else out in the field despite the sun being out and the weather pleasant. I wasn’t going to complain, however; that leaves it all to Donny and me to enjoy ourselves.

Smiling at the dark haired man, I pitch the ball to him which he skillfully hits, letting him score a home-run while I run to get the ball, ultimately running out of air as I run back. "Woo-hoo!" Donny shouts, victoriously throwing his arms in the air as he stands at the base. "Still got it, baby, yeah!"

"Oh, quiet down!" I tease him, hunching over to catch my breath as he quickly heads over to where I stand. Donny merely grins at my comment before I raise back up, still a bit out of breath. Placing my hands on my hips, I watch as Donny's smile turns into a focused frown, his eyes cast toward the forest behind me. Turning my head, I don't see anything, but my ears do catch something.

"Do you hear that?" Donny asks, receiving a nod back from me. Without a second thought, he takes my hand in his before walking toward that secluded part of the woods, not forgetting to grab his bat he dropped when he first hit the ball. Walking closer to the tall trees, I pick up more on what the noise is. It's people talking to each other in another language.

"Is that German?" Donny asks me, receiving another nod. Stopping beside a big pine, I try to listen in on the conversation. "Can you understand it?" He whispers.

"I think," I answer him. Aside from Hugo, I also serve as a translator to the Basterds for German having learned it in my youth. Leaning my head closer to sounds, I can hear the conversation more, but only bits and pieces.

"Zwei Leute,"

"Two people," I say the translation.

"Juden,"

"Jewish,"

"Feuer… Haus,"

"Fire... house,"

My eyes widening, I look back at Donny. "I think someone's talking about setting a house on fire," I tell him, his widening just like mine before he crawls through the forest with me beside him. Taking slow and quiet steps, we try to be as silent as possible as we soon find the owners of the voices. Sure enough, the two men sharing the conversation are decked out in Nazi attire, the bands on their arms giving them away immediately. As the two smoke cigars, they point out toward the part of the field that leads out to the civilian life. Looking around the rest of the woods, I don't see anyone else, and since the sun is bright out today, I'm pretty confident that the two are by themselves.

"When I say three, toss the ball in the air," Donny whispers, successfully avoiding gaining attention from the two enemies. Walking a few steps behind me, he swings his bat low to the ground as if he were readying it. "Stay there," He tells me, before counting down. "One... two... three," With the last number, emitting from his lips, he whistles loudly as I toss the ball into the air.

Right as both of the nazis turn to look at us, Donny swings his bat at the ball, successfully hitting the ball and making it fly into one of the Nazi's in the head. While the first nazi stumbles backward, now unconscious, the second one reaches for his gun, but he's too slow as Donny wastes no time in running up and hitting the man in the stomach before spinning and hitting him in the back of his head with the wooden instrument. Just like his fellow cretin, he falls to the ground as well, except in his case, his heart stops beating and body convulses in response to Donny's harsh hit.

Giving him one more hit on the ground, Donny moves on to the other man, turning him on his back so he can face him. Ripping the gun from the man's side, Donny tosses it over to me where I grab it and ready it, just in case. Donny then aggressively slaps the man repeatedly who wakes up on the fifth hit with a bloody nose.

"Wake up, sleepy head!" Donny taunts, the Bear Jew coming out in full force. The man holds his hands up to protect himself, making Donny laugh. "Give us your mission details, you piece of shit," Donny says to the man, only to receive a weird look. He must not speak English.

Walking up to the two, I get on the same level as Donny before holding the tip of the welrod to the man's neck, his eyes flashing in fear in response to a gun he stole being pressed against his neck. "Gib uns die stadtplan, oder wir schneiden deine kopf ab," I tell the man, speaking full German.

Eyes wide, the man shakily reaches down and takes out a piece of paper, but I can tell that isn't the map. Cocking the gun, I aim it toward his knee cap without looking and shoot, the only sound following being the man's cry of pain thanks to the gun's built-in silencer.

"Der echte eins," I demand, seeing Donny in the corner of my eye smirking.

"Kapitulation, kapitulation!" The man cries out, pulling another paper out of his jacket pocket. Yanking it from the man's grasp, I flip it open and see the familiar cities around Belgium, the Imperial Eagle stamped onto specific locations such as public buildings and flats.

"Thank you," I mutter, walking backward as I stare at the map more. Over the top of the page, my eyes catch Donny quickly break back into his badass persona before beating the nazi's face to a pulp with each brutal swing of his bat. Once he's done, he wipes the blood from his face and walks over to me where he peers down at the piece of paper in my hands.

"Can't bring you anywhere," I joke, handing him the map to look over. Smiling, I press a kiss against his lips, quickly receiving one back before he pulls me close to him. "Work just seems to follow you."

"You're the one who finds all'ar missions, baby," He responds, smirking as he kisses my cheek. "And it looks like you found the rest of 'em for all of Belgium," With the discovery, Donny seems happy and almost proud in a way. Looking back at the map with him, I find myself sighing a little. Our long weekend is over, but at the same time, the Basterds are closer to their victory, and Donny's got his mojo back.

“Just warn me next time you decide to shoot a man in front of me.” Donny’s voice breaks me away the map and over to him as he now stands behind me. I raise an eyebrow at him curiously, but he simply continues smirking before leaning his face into my neck and pressing his hips into mine, something hard and eager poking into my back. “Almost fucked you right here in the forest, babe,” I gasp, just in time for him to bite at my neck harshly. “You really have no fucking clue.”

Translations :

Gib uns die stadtplan, oder wir schneiden deine kopf ab,

Give us the map, or we rip your head off,

Der echte eins,

The real one,

Kapitulation, kapitulation!

Surrender, surrender!

Welrod: Welrod was a European gun made during the Second World War

#donny donowitz #Donny donowitz x reader #donny donowitz imagine #donny donowitz imagines #donny donowitz fanfiction #eli roth #eli roth x reader #eli roth imagines #eli roth imagine #inglorious basterds #inglorious basterds x reader #inglorious basterds imagines #inglorious basterds imagine

[michelle-is-writing]

Christmas, Dr. Gregory House

Word count: 1.8k~

Warnings: mention of sex, House being House

"It's a marshmallow world in the winter," I sing, stringing lights on my apartment's Christmas tree. "When the snow comes to cover the ground," I sing the next verse of Brenda Lee's song before turning toward Greg with a smile. Sitting on the couch, the salt and pepper haired man sips at a small glass of eggnog (with a shot of whiskey in it, no less) while staring at the tree with a bored look on his face. Even when he sees my smile, he still remains there with a frown.

"Greg," I state his name, his blue eyes flickering up to mine. Seeing that I have his attention, I smile. "Come help me set up the tree."

"Why? So we can just take it down two weeks later?" He asks, making me sigh, my smile now a frown to match his. I love Greg, but I absolutely hate his pessimistic views - and with it being the week of Christmas, I will not let his negative opinions ruin anything.

"Fine," I say to him, placing the string of lights down beside me. "If you don't want to do that, then do something else for me," He raises an eyebrow in question at me, waiting for me to finish. "Come dance with me."

All of a sudden, he breaks into a dry laugh before stopping all of a sudden with his usual frown. "Have you forgotten?" He asks me, holding his hands over his crippled leg. “Crippled, if you haven’t noticed.”

Rolling my eyes with a smirk, I nod at him. "How could I forget?" I ask him, "There isn't a moment that goes by that you don't use it to your advantage," with that, I let out a fake thoughtful sigh. "And there isn't a moment that goes by where I don't say 'no' to you on getting on top."

At my response, he tilts his head sideways while staring at me with squinted eyes like a child would if you teased them. At his behavior change, I smile once again before walking over to him by the couch. Serves him right for being a smart ass all the time, and finally, I said something he had no clap-back to.

"I don't want to break dance or anything like that," I tell him, taking his rough and big hands into my own smaller ones. "I just want to slow dance with you."

For once, he slowly smiles up at me before standing up with a little help from me. "Okay," He says, stumbling a bit as he tries to stand up straight without his cane. "We'll dance - but if I fall, I'm taking you down with me."

Giggling at him, I nod and kiss his lips for a short second before we wrap our arms around each other and start slow dancing. The next Brenda Lee song that comes on is a slower and sweeter song that I enjoy a lot. Greg on the other hand doesn't really care for anything Christmas, so he could give two thoughts less.

"Rockin' around the Christmas Tree at a Christmas party hop," I sing in a light voice, watching as Greg continues to smile and stare at me. "Mistletoe hung where you can see, every couple tried to st-" I continue on, until abruptly being cut off by Greg's lips on mine. We continue to kiss each other for a few seconds until pulling away, a smirk resting on Greg's face.

"What was that for?" I ask him with a shocked grin. Still smirking, Greg just looks above him with me following his gaze, a small green piece of berry filled fern hanging above us. I don't remember putting that up there...

"I thought it would be useful," Greg states as we both look back at each other. "Turns out this cripple can do a few things for his woman," He notes, matter-of-factly.

Smirking back at him, I shake my head in comical disbelief. "Out of all of these Christmas decorations, you put up mistletoe?" I ask him, receiving a shrug back.

"I like this tradition better than the rest," Greg confesses, still gently swaying us. "Besides," he leans in close, his lips close to my cheek. "It benefits us both."

In response, I can't help but slap his shoulder with a giggle. "You perv," I chide, moving to rest my hands on his shoulders while his linger on my waist. "How long has that been up there?"

"I put it up this morning," He answers with a gentle tone just before we both fall into a comfortable silence. Did I expect Greg to do anything festive during these happy times? Absolutely not. But was I really all that surprised in finding mistletoe that just so happens to be festive? Kind of. Being a little bit of a narcissist, Greg only put that up because he could use the excuse that it was Christmas themed instead of the actual reason being that he just wanted to kiss me without showing spontaneous romance - a possible weakness to him.

As we dance with each other, I quickly notice the usual bags underneath his eyes are slowly fading away and the blueness of his irises have turned more lively with brightness lively in them. In the short amount of time of being away from work, Greg is starting to look a bit younger than he actually is. Although, I do think this is due to him being away from the stressful environment that is his work. And to think, he actually took these days off for me; maybe he isn't such a narcissist after all...

During my thinking, Greg has managed to move us over near the couch while we were dancing, only to trip and cause us both to fall over on the soft cushions. Of course, he did this on purpose. Scrap my earlier thought - he's definitely a narcissist.

"Oops," He says sarcastically, "I fell," Greg points out, staring up at me with a small smirk beginning to take over his lips once more.

At his goofiness, I roll my eyes at him and lightly pat his chest a few times before moving to get up. However, when I go to move over him, Greg quickly catches me in his arms and pulls me back down to his chest, holding me close to him as if he wants me to stay where I am.

"No, no, just stay here, please," He begs, his voice resuming its gentle tone from earlier. Nonetheless, it takes me by surprise. I would have never expected Greg to say that. As I mentioned before, he'll use any excuse he can find to make it seem like he's not being romantic or sweet.

"Okay," I tell him, my eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion as I nuzzle my head further into his chest to become a bit more relaxed in his embrace. "Are you comfortable?" I ask, moving my leg away from his bad one.

"The most I'll ever be," He answers me, his hand smoothing down my hair. "Have I ever told you how great it is to lie with you?" He questions me, making me roll my eyes once again.

"Are you talking about when we’re having sex or when we do this?" I ask for clarification, making him chuckle.

"I mean like this," He answers as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. "Then again, I do enjoy both situations, but I'm talking about right now," I can't help but smile as my cheeks heat up a little in response to his words, a sigh soon falling from his lips. "I've been married before and had a few girlfriends, but nothing with them could ever compare to how I feel with you. You just make me feel the best I have felt in a while," He further admits, his voice still soft and quiet with his confession.

Sighing sweetly, I shake my head against the soft material of his grey jumper before speaking. "I bet you've told all your women that," I half-joke, quickly receiving an answer back.

"No, actually, I haven't," Greg retorts, making me look up at him with furrowed eyebrows. Bright blue eyes look back at me with no emotion, yet at the same time, pure honesty. "I haven't told any other women this because it wouldn't be true, and well, I wouldn't care if they heard me say it or not," Sitting us up a bit, Greg places his hand on my cheek in a sensual and meaningful way.

"(Y/n), I love you," He confesses, his voice never wavering or cracking up. In response to his words, my eyes slightly widen as I feel my whole body become tense. "And I know I may not be the most expressive guy when it comes to my emotions, but believe me when I tell you that you have made me a better man," He adds on, his thumb now beginning to softly run over my cheek.

"Or, at least, I think I have," Greg adds, giving a soft shrug. "Ultimately, it’s you and the guys at work that would see it, so you might have to ask them just to be sure," his words make me roll my eyes that are currently tearing up, but I can't resist my smile at the same time. Once again, Greg can't let it be known that he can be spontaneously romantic at times. "They'd probably tell you I'm still an ass, but I think-"

Before he can say anymore, I move forward and press my lips to his in a sweet kiss. Of course, he kisses back instantly, but not before he smiles as well. Once we pull apart, I stare down at him breathlessly before speaking. "I love you too, Greg," I tell him, the four words I have been dreaming about telling him falling freely from my lips. "I have for a long time, but I was... I was too scared to say it."

Greg then smiles back at me and tilts his head to the side as he moves his arms down to my waist and holds my body closer to his. "Well," he says, searching his mind for a sarcastic answer. A few seconds pass until he sighs and looks back at me with an even bigger smile. "Here’s your Merry Christmas," He chimes, jokingly mocking me.

Grinning at him, I shake my head before he moves forward and reattaches our lips once more, the tune of Christmas carols playing behind us as we kiss. Maybe Greg won't be so pessimistic about Christmas anymore. I mean... we can only pray and hope so. Nonetheless, I guess it really is a Merry Christmas to me.

#gregory house x reader #dr gregory house #dr gregory house imagine #gregory house imagines #dr gregory house x reader #gregory house #house imagines #house imagine #house x reader #house fanfiction #greg house #greg house imagine #greg house imagines #greg house x reader

[michelle-is-writing]

Christmas Love, Luke Crain

Word count: 1.4k~

When I sent Luke out to grab a few things before his siblings came over for Christmas in a few days, I didn't expect him to come home with a gingerbread house kit and only half of the groceries I sent him to get. According to him, he got “distracted” when looking for the reindeer themed sprinkles I wanted so the kids could decorate sugar cookies. When he came back with the box containing the gingerbread house in hand, I presumed he thought the house would be better for the kids, but I was wrong.

He got it for us.

"Hey, hunny," I attract his attention, taking a bag of white icing into my hand. He hums back a response, currently focused on gluing the piece of red and green candy onto the house's side with the other bag of frosting. "You do realize that this is an activity for kids, right?" I question him, "And we're fully-grown adults?"

Looking over at me, Luke smiles. "The age requirement was three-plus, so I thought we were old enough," He jokes, smirking as he continues decorating. He's so goofy sometimes.

"Yeah, I don't think you meet the age requirement up here," I joke back while tapping my skull, laughing as I feel one of the tiny candies Luke was using collide with my cheek. "Don't be mad!" I shout, watching him grin as he continues staring over at me from his seat.

"I could never be mad," He tells me, his voice all of a sudden softer as he sits back in his chair with the same smile. Sighing happily, Luke crosses his arms together against his chest as his eyes flash between me and the ongoing gingerbread house on the dining table in between us. "I'm actually quite... relieved."

"Relieved?" I ask him, now piping the gingerbread roof with frosting. "Such an odd word to use, but please, enlighten me on why you used it."

With another smile, Luke gently laughs before doing as I say. "When I was younger, every Christmas, my aunt Janet made all of us kids sit down and decorate a gingerbread house she had baked herself," Luke explains, "Usually, Nell and I would take up one side while Steve did the front, Shirl got the back, and Theo got the other side,"

"We always had fun," He added on, sighing afterward. "Soon, all of us got older, and it soon turned into me, Nell, Theo, and Shirl decorating the gingerbread house while Steve went out to be with a girl for Christmas. Then, it was just like this pattern followed all of my siblings,"

Pausing, Luke frowns. "Soon, Shirl wasn't home for Christmas, then Theo, and then..." Swallowing, he closes his eyes and shakes his head. At this point, I put down the piping bag as all of my focus is now placed on Luke and his words. "Then I wasn't home, and I was out of the house on Christmas, fucking up as usual."

"But you don't do things you used to do now, right?" I question him before he can launch himself into a world of sadness. Leaning over the table with a smile, I take his hands into mine before kissing each one. "You have fought so hard to not only try and fix your mistakes, but to be where you are, Luke, and that's all that matters," I remind him, watching as the smile slowly returns to his face. "Never forget I love you, we all love you."

Nodding, Luke takes a moment to process my words before bringing our hands up to his lips. "I love you too," He tells me, pressing a kiss to each of my hands as I had done with his moments ago. "Thank you for decorating this house with me," He tells me as I stand from my chair to walk over to his side and plop down in his lap. At this, he smiles and holds me tight before continuing. "it's just, I saw it and all I could think about was being a kid and doing it all over again."

"I had fun doing it with you," I assure him, leaning close to kiss his forehead as his hands fiddle with my oversized sweater. "You know I'd do anything for you."

"Anything?" He asks, leaning back to face me with a raised eyebrow. Staring down at his coy smile makes me squint my eyes as the corner of my lip quirks up. I know he's trying to be flirty, but he ends up just looking like a curious puppy.

"What do you want?" I ask him, gaining a laugh in return. The pleasant noise makes me grin, loving the fact that he's genuinely happy.

"There's a grocery bag somewhere in the kitchen with a tube of white sparkle icing," He informs me, "Do you think you could grab it for me so I can finish the snow? Please?"

After a few seconds of melodramatic silence, I dramatically throw myself out of Luke's lap before stomping toward the kitchen. "Fine!" I yell, smirking as Luke continues laughing behind me, still in his seat.

While in the kitchen, I search through every grocery bag, and somehow, I don't find the decorating gel anywhere. The closest thing I find is a jar of white sanding sprinkles that I asked Luke to get. Other than that, I don't see any other decorating item.

"Babe, I don't see the sparkle gel anywhere," I tell him, walking out of the kitchen as I stare down at the plastic jar of sprinkles in my hands. "All I found was the sprink..." My words are cut off a I look up from the sanding sugar and to the gingerbread house resting in the middle of the dining table.

Instead of the plain brown roof that Luke was supposed to decorate, I find it to have the words written out in frosting, "Will you marry me?" The only unusual thing is the 'O' in 'you' is replaced by a dazzling ring that's slightly embedded in the icing.

Standing beside the table is Luke, his arms behind his back as he bites his lip and lightly bounces on his toes, awaiting my answer. Awestruck, I move a hand up to my agape mouth while tears make their way to my eyes, crying out of happiness and complete shock. I don't waste another second of standing as I run to Luke and practically lunge at him, wrapping my arms around his neck as his wrap around my midsection, holding me tighter than ever before.

“Yes,” I mutter in his ear, holding my hand to his head as he leans down a bit to embrace me. “Yes, Luke, I’ll marry you,” I continue on, my voice growing hoarser with each word that passes through my lips thanks to my tears.

Pulling back in the hug, Luke reveals his face to be covered in happy tears as well, a grin takes over his mouth. "Oh, thank you," He practically sobs, moving his hands to the sides of my face as he pulls me in for a kiss. After a few seconds, he pulls away and reaches over to take the ring off of the gingerbread house, the bottom part covered in white icing.

At the sight, Luke and I both lightly laugh before I take the ring from him and swipe the frosting off, licking it off my finger afterward. I don’t miss the dazed expression that appears on Luke’s face for a second as he watches me do this, only making me smirk. "How'd you know I always wanted a frosting covered ring?" I quip, Luke taking the ring from my grasp and sliding it onto my ring finger with ease. The main jewel is a diamond, but the two around it are our birthstones, nearly causing my heart to skip a beat.

At my comment, Luke shakes his head with a small laugh before kissing me once again, his hands rising up to wipe away my fallen tears. "How in the hell did I get so lucky?" He asks, resting his forehead against mine as he encases my left hand in his over his heart, the new addition to one of the fingers pressing against his palm.

"I should be asking the same thing," I tell him, leaning in for another kiss as my eyes flash back to the dining table. I think the gingerbread house is going to become a tradition for us too, and this time, it'll stay forever.

#Luke Crain x reader #luke crain imagine #luke crain #luke crain imagines #oliver jackson cohen #oliver jackson cohen imagine #oliver jackson cohen x reader #oliver jackson cohen imagines #the haunting of hill house #the haunting of hill house x reader #the haunting of hill house imagine #the haunting of hill house imagines

[michelle-is-writing]

Wedding Mornings, Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.2k~

As a child, I always wondered if I would ever find the right person for me. Having no luck to find such a person as a teenager, I ended up wondering if I would even find a husband, better yet, my soul mate. In years to come, I would start to believe that I would be alone forever.

However, once I moved to Washington DC and found a job at the Melvin Gelvin library, I soon befriended a man that visited there a lot. I had seen him in the research section before, but he never came up to my desk for help. I thought he was cute, in all honesty, but I didn't want to come off as too confident and go up to him to see if he needed help when I never did that with anyone else in the library.

So, the one day he did come up to me and ask me where to find a book I had seen him take out many times, I smiled and nodded before helping him find the book. He was nervous asking me his question, and I couldn't help but be a little nervous as well. Although, once we found the encyclopedia for Philosophy, he introduced himself as Spencer Reid, and I couldn't help but rejoice as my name fell from my lips in return. Finally, I got to learn the name of the man who I had shared glances with so many times, yet, we never interacted - up until then.

After that, it felt like a free-game. Anytime Spencer came into the library, he was asking me for books that I knew very well he was aware of where they would be. In spite of this, I always helped him, and after he checked out the third book I had seen him read many times before, Spencer finally asked me out for coffee.

Unfortunately, our date kept getting postponed because of Spencer's job. At first, I thought he was backing out in regret since it had already taken him so long to ask me out in first place. However, once we did go on that date, I discovered that that wasn't even a tiny fraction as to why he kept rescheduling. As soon as I found out that Spencer held such a huge responsibility with a job that relied on him to capture mass murderers and kidnappers, I found myself in complete admiration for him. Not to mention the fact that all of the science books he had been checking out weren't for class or education - he already earned his degrees in those fields beforehand.

Now that I have a dazzling ring on my finger, I'm even happier that I was patient in waiting for Spencer to finally make it to our date. I knew how long I waited for that coffee shop date he promised - six-whole-weeks. However, I never knew how long I was waiting for a man like Spencer to make his way into my life until I found out how much I truly loved him. Through saying those three words that are often said too much, I discovered that I had waited my entire life to find Spencer, and when he proposed to me in Rossi's garden one late night, I found out that Spencer truly felt the same way.

Soon enough, the months before our wedding slowly passed until the brightest week of our lives came up, and once that started, it was like everything was going at twice the speed it should have been going. All of my bridesmaids (JJ, Emily, (f/n), and Penelope) ran around like chickens with their heads cut off while Spencer's groomsmen (Derek, Aaron, and Rossi) did the same. Even during the morning of my wedding, everyone was running around to get things done while I just stayed in my bride's quarter's kitchen and did the same thing I did every other morning.

"I'm just saying," Penelope starts, watching as I pour freshly made coffee into a mug for Spencer. "It's bad luck for a groom to see the bride before the wedding!" She reminds me, causing me to smile.

"I thought that was only if the bride was wearing her dress," I point out, adding more sugar than actual coffee into the mug. "And, besides," I add, giving the coffee one last stir before placing the spoon down on the counter. I have no idea how Spencer can drink this stuff with nearly half of the mug filled with sugar.

Turning toward Penelope with the steaming mug in hand, my eyes quickly catch onto the expertly made bouquet in her hands, every flower I wanted beautifully bundled together with a gorgeous (f/c) bow wrapped around the stems. How is she so good at any creative thing she does?

"I've made Spencer his coffee every morning since our first day living together, Pen," I tell her, smiling as I think about the fond memory. Sometimes he'll make me a cup too if I haven't done so myself. "I don't want to miss a day because of some old, wise tale that's probably been taken out of its original context," I add, slightly smirking as I know that's the truth. Once the words leave my mouth, Penelope can't resist the smile the makes it's way onto her lips as she shakes her head.

"Well, I don't think anything I say is going to stop you," She notes, earning a head nod back from me. She's right. Nothing is going to make me halt in my actions of bringing Spencer his coffee - not even a silly little fairytale.

Heading out of the hotel room in only my silk pajamas that match the rest of the girls' clothes, I find myself walking across the hall with my heart pounding in my chest. It's strange to just now realize that today is the official start of my forever. It's a fantastic feeling, but at the same time, it's giving me a high that I feel like I can't come down from. It's a dangerous, yet blissful thing.

Just as I round the corner to walk to the other end of the hall, my eyes quickly catch onto a familiar figure leaving his hotel room. There's no way I could ever forget those brunet curls or the slender body of the man I love. Although, what is a bit odd is that he's currently carrying a coffee mug of his own. I guess he didn't think that I'd stick to what we've always done.

"Good morning, handsome," I greet Spencer, causing him to lightly jump before turning around and seeing me. Once his eyes land on my pajama covered figure, he visibly calms down with a small sigh and smile.

"I wanted to go and see you, but the guys wouldn't let me. So, I had to sneak out," Spencer explains with a shake of his head, making me laugh. Just as I do that, Spencer's whole demeanor changes as if he's softening up. His tense shoulders loosen while his posture relaxes a bit, another sigh leaving his slightly smiling lips as he does so. He looks calmer than any other time I can remember.

"You... you look amazing," he compliments me, causing me to blush with a wide smile. My hair is an absolute mess right now, a majority of it up in a clip as I haven't brushed it yet. Not to mention my face doesn't even have a touch of makeup on it and I'm still in pajamas - there's nothing about me that says "amazing" right now. I don't know how Spencer can say such things.

"Thank you, baby," I tell him, taking a few steps forward before planting a kiss to his cheek. Despite today being the day of our wedding, Spencer's cheeks turn to light pink in response to my lips touching them as they always do, and I can't help but smile as I see the rose color take over his skin. Despite what some people say, I truly believe there's a good chance it will always be this way.

"I made you coffee for this morning," I tell him, gesturing to the steaming mug in my hand. "But I didn't know you made your own already," I further add, watching as the corner of Spencer's lip quirks up. Is he surprised that I would do this?

"Actually," he starts, holding the cup out to me. "I made this for you - that's why I was heading out of the room so I could go and give it to you," Spencer explains, trading mugs with me as a bright smile takes over his face. "I'm glad that we both had the same idea."

Smiling back, I nod before taking a sip from the cup of coffee Spencer made me, Spencer following in suit with the cup that I made him. We both let out a small, satisfied groan as the taste of coffee reaches our lips.

"You always manage to make my coffee perfect," Spencer points out, making my heart clench. He's so adorable, and he doesn't even realize it.

"And I'll never forget it, love, not for a long time," I tell him, leaning closer to kiss his cheek. However, before I can do so, Spencer takes the chance to wrap his free arm around me and pull me against him. Now satisfied, Spencer gives off a small hum before leaning down and pressing his lips to mine. In his arms, I feel the happiest I've felt this morning, and with the events of today being added in, I am more than ecstatic right now. Making coffee for Spencer every morning for the rest of my life is only a small fraction of what our marriage is going to be, and I can't help but look forward to doing it.

"I'm so glad we're doing this," Spencer confesses, pulling away from my lips to rest his nose against mine. Smiling, I gently sigh as I feel his hand on my waist sliding underneath my pajama top and onto my skin. His touch is so gentle that I could almost mistake it for a cloud touching me. "I've waited so long for this."

"I wish we would've done it sooner," I admit, nuzzling the side of my face into Spencer's soft sleep shirt. "Then I could've been Mrs. Reid for a long time now," I point out, turning my eyes up to the smiling man holding me.

"I do like the sound of that," Spencer murmurs, smirking as he leans farther down to press his lips to my neck. "Misses Reid," He slowly says my new title, each syllable rolling off his tongue smoothly. Even before we were engaged, he would jokingly call me that, but now that I'm actually Mrs. Reid, my love for the name has only grown.

With that, Spencer and I connect our lips in another sweet kiss while holding each other close. In his arms, I feel the warmest and happiest I have ever been. Nothing could ruin this moment between us. It's simply too perfect.

"Stop making out in the hallway! You'll be doing enough of that later!" A stern voice interrupts us, causing Spencer and me to look over to the hotel room door he stepped out of a few seconds ago. Hanging out of the empty doorway is Derek who's smirking with an accusing eyebrow. "Isn't it bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony?"

"Actually, Derek, it's only bad luck if-" Spencer argues Derek just as another voice cuts in.

"What are you two doing?!" A shout sounds throughout the hall, the tone full of Penelope Garcia's typical sassiness. Immediately, both of our heads shoot toward the end of the hall where the spunky blonde stomps toward us. "What have you two been doing?!"

"Derek, help us," I beg, turning my head back to Spencer's best man. Instead of doing what I actually asked, Derek laughs and shakes his head while holding his hands up.

"Oh no," he starts, "I'm not suffering at the hands of the woman behind you."

"Yeah," Penelope states, matter-of-factly. "I would be scared too if I were you, missy," just as soon as the words leave her lips, Penelope puts her hand on my arm and practically drags me out of Spencer's arms while Derek does the same to Spencer, both mindful of the mugs in our hands.

"You can see your beautiful bride in a couple of hours," Derek assures my soon-to-be-husband while he gives me one last kiss. As soon as his lips touch mine, I realize this is the last kiss before the one kiss we get to share that marks our forever with each other. Plus, I have no doubt that our friends will be cheering and teasing us as we do so - just like Derek and Penelope do right now. Just at the single thought, I can hardly wait.

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot #Spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n

[michelle-is-writing]

Doubt, Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1k~

I've noticed Spencer avoiding me lately and looking rather sad. He doesn't reject me when I give him attention, but its almost as if he never returns the favor. I commonly see him reading a book for a few minutes before losing focus or interest in the work of literature and putting it down with a sigh. It's unusual for Spencer to lose interest in something so quickly, and it's strange for Spencer to not talk to me as much as he usually would.

After returning from a day of work at the BAU, Spencer does what he usually does and places his bag beside the door along with his shoes before stripping off his coat and hanging it up. Walking over to me, he plops down on the couch beside me and plops his head beside my legs. Happy to see him, I smile at down him, moving my hand to lightly drag my finger across his cheek. He doesn't smile at this, but he doesn't pull away from my touch either. This is my moment to ask him.

"Spence, baby," I say his name, causing him to glance up at me. "Are you okay?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows. "You haven't been your usual self, and I'm kind of worried."

Staring up at me, Spencer stays quiet for several seconds before sighing and answering me. "I'm okay, yes," he answers, sitting up. "I've just... I've just had a few things on my mind lately," With his back facing me, I move closer to him before wrapping my arms around him and pulling him into me, his head laying back on my shoulder.

"Then tell me," I say to him, leaning over and kissing his cheek. "Tell me what's on your mind."

Spencer shakes his head in a way that says he doesn't think it's a big deal; we've been dating for so long that we know what each other's movements mean. I know when he purses his lips and shakes his head that he doesn't think something is a big deal. I also know that when Spencer's eyes stare straight ahead instead of meeting mine that he's afraid to tell me something, or he's a bit hesitant in what he's about to say. Even though he's doing all of these, I don't stop asking him until he finally sighs and begins to speak, his voice low.

"I'm not good enough for you," Spencer tells me, making me a little confused. "I can't do a lot of things with you like travel or take you on planned dates without stupid work cutting in," he sighs, closing his eyes. "Besides, I'm never home with you for more than two or three days. Not to mention I'm socially awkward and I sometimes don't know what to say... sometimes, all I can think about is how you're too good for me, and you deserve someone so, so much better."

After hearing his confession, I don't know what to say. I wait a few moments to respond as I slowly process through everything Spence just admitted. I never knew he thought this way, but now it all makes sense. The way he's avoided me for the past few days... the way he constantly apologizes for silly mistakes even though it's not that big of a deal... it all pieces together now.

"I wish you wouldn't say such lies," I finally answer him, placing my hand on the side of his face. Turning him toward me, I push my lips against his, smiling as he kisses back before pulling me into his lap and close to his chest. It's moments like these that I live for, that I dream about. I crave these moments day and night, and when they happen, nothing around me matters. All that matters is my lips on Spencer's, and his heart beating against my own.

Pulling away from the kiss, I rub my thumb against his cheek before finishing my sentence. "But you're all that I've ever wanted in my life," I continue, sighing blissfully while tears come to my eyes. "And if I'm being honest, you're perfect for me. I know that sounds selfish, but-"

Before I can keep on, Spencer's lips reattach themselves to mine again before his hands find their way into my hair. With Spencer finally making the move to kiss me after what feels like forever, I tearfully smile and wrap my arms around his neck, linking my hands together. Soon, we're both lying down on the couch with my body beneath Spencer's own perfect body.

Pulling away to breathe, Spencer smiles softly and sweetly at me, the entire room lighting up as he does so. "You're perfect for me too," He confesses, his voice gentle and calm. "I can't live without you. If you'll have me, I-I'd like to marry you one day," Spencer further concludes, making my eyes widen as everything around me comes to a halt.

"Are you asking me to marry you?" I ask, staring up at him with wide eyes. In response, Spencer gently smiles and nods.

"I don't want it to seem like this is a split-second decision I'll regret later because it isn't, and I know I'll never regret this," He begins, taking my hand in his. "But this feels so right. When thinking about being with you for the rest of my life, I thought maybe you wouldn't want me, but now... it just seems like the perfect moment to do this,"

Leaning back down, Spencer's lips hover over mine as he continues, my full name falling from his lips as I smile with tears in my eyes once again. "If you'll let me, I'd like to make you (Y/n) (M/n) Reid instead," he confesses, smiling. "The only thing I'd ever want to change about you is your last name," his comment makes me giggle before leaning up and attaching my lips to his, holding him closer once more.

"Yes, Spencer," I answer him, pulling back to stare into his beautiful hazelnut orbs. "A million times yes," I add, placing my hands on the sides of his face before kissing him again, my fingers running against the light stubble of his cheeks as his hands find their way to my waist. Once again, my lips are on Spencer's, and our hearts are beating against each other's, although this time, it feels as if our heartbeats are one in the same.

#soencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagines #matthew gray gubler imagine

[michelle-is-writing]

Clothes Shopping, Spencer Reid

Word count: 1.6k~

I have never felt more award in a store. Looking around me, I find myself a bit weirded out by the store I'm currently in while waiting for Spencer. Mannequins dressed in fancy suits litter the male clothing store while shelves hold the same pairs of oxfords, each pair barely changing with the shades of black and brown they possess. The men at the front registers wear what the store advertises, and their posture is so straight and unchanging that they could be mannequins as well. When Spencer said he needed to shop for some new work clothes, this place wasn't exactly what came to mind.

"Spence, you almost finished?" I ask from behind the blue curtain of the changing stall. The clanking of a belt against the floor sounds through the dressing rooms before the constant thump of Spencer's jumping feet follows it. "Need any help?" I ask him with a smirk, gaining an odd and almost annoyed look from the worker at the changing room desk. These people are really stuck-up.

"I'm almost done, (Y/n)," I hear him say, his voice showing mild frustration. A little concerned, I pull back the curtain to see my husband having trouble getting his pants on, my eyes quickly catching the error in his ways.

"Spencer, honey," I state, walking into the small room with him and placing my hand on his shoulder. Spencer doesn't stop in his movements, however.

"It's okay, I got it," He assures me, making me smile and shake my head. I probably shouldn't be so amused at Spencer being so uncoordinated, but who wouldn't at least be a little tickled by their husband putting on his pants backward?

"Spencer, you really don't," I tell him, sliding my hands over his. He stops in his actions before looking up at me with pleading eyes. No matter what, he will never audibly ask for help, but the pitiful puppy eyes I get from him sells him out every time without fail.

"You kind of..." I begin, only to cover my mouth with a hand as I try to conceal my oncoming laughter. "You have them on backward," I quickly explain to him in a whisper, his eyes immediately shooting wide open before he turns in the mirror to see himself.

"Oh my God," He mutters, finally smiling in amusement. Turning back toward me, he sighs before looking down at the front of his pants that are technically the back. "That explains why this," He gestures to the middle seam line fighting for its life. "Felt weird."

Laughing again, I shake my head before handing him his original ones. "I think this is a sign," I note, gaining a quizzical look from Spencer as he begins to take off the pants.

"Why do you say that?" He asks, sliding the ugly pants off before putting on his original pair, meeting my eyes once he's pulling his zipper back up.

"Because these clothes," I start, gesturing to the area around me. "Are not you," I point out, earning a slight nod from Spencer. "You are sweater vests and black converse, not... tight-ass jackets with leather shoes that need more care than a small child."

He smiles at me before nodding in agreeance. "Rossi recommended the place," He explains, "I didn't say anything when we came in, but..." He leans in closer, beginning to whisper. "I hate everything I picked out."

Shaking my head, I stifle a laugh before gathering the unbought clothes together over my arm and hanging them up on the rack by the dressing room doorway. With Spencer back in his original clothes, we head out of the store, but not before gaining a few pointed glares from the mannequins at the front desk, of course. Hand in hand, we head across the mall to another clothing shop, one that I think will be better for us.

Last time I came here to the mall, I noticed the mannequins in the windows were wearing outfits that Spencer would wear - you know, clothes for a mid-century banker. Without hesitation, I went into the store and found a few things for him, to which I purchased and brought home. When I gave the sweaters to him, I didn't know if he liked them or not, but whenever I noticed he started to only wear the three jumpers I got him without switching back to the other ones he already owned, I knew he liked them.

"Go crazy," I tell him, gesturing to the men's clothes section. Watching as Spencer's eyes scan over the many shelves and racks of his type of clothing, I smile. "I'll be looking at the dresses," I inform him, pecking his cheek before heading over to the women's section.

A few minutes pass, leaving me to myself while Spencer fills his arms up with clothes he likes. I'm glad he's finding a lot of things he deems wearable and his style. He hasn't gone clothes shopping since he first joined the BAU, and even then, I was the one to find everything for him since most of it was from magazine catalogs sent through the mail. Now those clothes are so old and worn out that everything either has holes in them or the color has faded a few shades.

Only finding one dress and a pair of heels, I head back to the dressing rooms where Spencer's trying on his clothes. I knock on the wall beside his stall before pulling back the curtain and walking in. Spencer stands in the mirror, smiling proudly at himself and his new clothes. A dark brown wool coat sits on his shoulders while a black, soft-looking button-up lies beneath it followed by a matching pair of dark brown pants.

Turning toward me, he smiles with a light laugh that shows his happiness. His innocent smile is like that of a child's smile on Christmas. I guess finding clothes that he genuinely likes feels like a blessing to him, and for me, it truly is a blessing.

"Do you like it?" Spencer asks, making my smile turn into a grin. Walking forward, I adjust a few things before smoothing down the fabric of the blazer.

"I do," I tell him. "It looks very nice on you; it's sharp," Turning my eyes up to his, I furrow my eyebrows together. "This isn't all you found, right?" I ask him.

Turning toward to the chair beside the mirror, he points at the gigantic stack of clothes. "No, this just happens to be my favorite," He sheepishly admits, making me laugh. Kissing the handsome man, I rest my hand on his chest before looking back at the mirror.

"It looks nice on you," I repeat myself from earlier. "I hope you're getting it," I tell Spencer, his eyes going down to the dress over my arm as he nods.

"What did you find?" He asks. Smiling, I pull the dress from my arm and hold it up for him to see. "I like that," He notes. "You should try it on."

Agreeing with him, I begin to pull my shirt off as Spencer moves his news clothes onto his lap while sitting down in the armchair. Moving onto my pants, I unbutton my jeans and slide them down, giving Spencer a small show at the same time. Peering back at him, I see his eyes watching me intently while resting his chin on his hand.

"Enjoying the view?" I ask him with a smirk, his smile reappearing above his perched arm.

"I'll never stop loving my wife's amazing body," He answers proudly, making me blush. Four years of marriage, and he still manages to make me feel the same way I did when we were dating.

Pulling the dress over my head, I push it down the rest of my body and watch as it nicely conforms to my legs and waist. Grazing my hands over my clothed curves, I smile at my reflection in the mirror just as Spencer had done with his. The dress is long-sleeved and made of a black, silky material that clings and spans down to the space above my knee. The neckline is a little low too, showing the tops of my shoulders which makes it appear seductive, yet sweet. Sliding on the silver pumps only add to the seduction of the look, making me smile. It's not a bad look for me.

Turning my eyes to the new reflection behind me, I feel Spencer slide his arm around my waist before tugging me close to him. "You look..." He begins, his eyes lingering on his grasp on my hips in the mirror. "Absolutely gorgeous... and sexy."

Smiling even more now, I turn toward him fully and wrap my arms around his neck as he wraps his other arm around my waist to match the other. Looking back at the mirror with me, Spencer smiles. "We look like we're ready to jump back in time," he points out, making me giggle.

He's not too far off, we do look as if we're trying to recreate a picture of Marilyn Monroe and Marlon Brando, and I love it. What I don't love is the sweater that my eyes catch peeking out of Spencer's stack of clothes.

"Spence, honey, why'd you pick out a sweater with armadillos all over it?"

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds imagine

[michelle-is-writing]

Birthday Pie, Spencer Reid

I was inspired to write this while watching the earlier seasons, so I know I wrote this a very long time ago.

Word Count: 1.1k~

Waiting at Spencer's desk with the rest of the team, we all happily stand in anticipation of the celebration of a certain holiday. Today is October 12th, meaning it is officially Spencer's birthday, and because of the very special occasion, we plan on spending it the best way we can. We'll have "cake" here in the morning and let him open our gifts for him, then once we all get off of work later, we'll go to a Chinese restaurant - one that has forks for Spencer, of course.

In all of our hands, we each have a gift for Spencer, and in the middle of his desk sits a pie I made for him which I am praying he will like. It's a chocolate chess pie which I thought was very fitting since Spencer likes chess and chocolate. I also know on your birthday you're supposed to have cake and ice cream, but maybe after 27 years, he'll want something else...?

"Do you think he'll like the pie instead of a regular Birthday cake?" I ask JJ, slightly unsure.

"Oh, he'll love it, (Y/n)," She assures me with one of her perfect smiles.

"Pretty boy loves anything you do," Morgan adds with a smirk. "Trust me."

I lightly laugh at his remark before sarcastically saying a small "Sure."

"No, no," Penelope cuts me off, waving her hands frantically with a huge smile. "You could walk a straight line and Spencer could give an hour-long seminar on how perfect your movements were," Immediately, my cheeks begin to blush while the rest of the team laughs at her comment. "Just sayin'," She finishes, holding her hands out in a shrug motion.

Just as she finishes speaking, my eyes move to the main entrance hall where my handsome brunet boyfriend is currently walking through the doors. Without noticing us at first, he mindlessly heads over to the area while straightening out his brown and green harlequin-pattern sweater vest. He doesn't even realize the spot he just fixed is going to be messed up again by the inevitable Birthday pin that Penelope plans to bestow upon him.

I watch as Spencer turns the corner, his pace slowing down before coming to a stop as sees us all waiting at his desk. It only takes a short second before he realizes what's going on, causing him to break into an award-winning grin and quicken his speed over to us. "Happy Birthday!" We all yell at the same time, making his eyes light up like fireworks.

"What's this?" He asks as he stops beside me, one of his hands instantly coming up to rest against my back.

"A birthday surprise, my love," I answer him, leaning in to kiss his cheek. Pushing my gift into his hands, I smile at him as he gazes at me with what hope is a mix of love and happiness. "Happy twenty-seventh birthday, Spencer."

After opening all of our gifts, Spencer sits down in his chair while I sit on the edge of his desk and cut a slice of pie for him. "What kind is it?" He asks, his eyes matching the sweet treat in front of him. Smiling, I push the slice of pie onto a paper plate before handing it to him.

"Chocolate chess," I tell him with a nod, watching as he chuckles; I'm glad he got the joke.

"I already like it," he tells me, referring to the name. Looking over at Morgan, I see both he and Penelope mouth "Told you so."

Handing Spence a fork, I watch as he takes the first bite of the pie, a half-surprised, half-happy emotion filling his face as he begins chewing the morsel of food. "Oh my God," he says, food still in his mouth. A moment of panic fills me as I begin to think he doesn't like it. "This tastes amazing," Those three words instantly take all the fear and worry away, causing me to grin and let out a sigh of relief.

Soon enough, everyone else has a slice of pie, each having reactions like Spencer. "This is really, really good, (Y/n)," Prentiss approves.

"Yes, it is!" Penelope agrees, taking another bite of her slice.

"Mama, I am coming to your place for Thanksgiving," Derek announces, causing me to hide my grin. Even Rossi and Hotch had something good to say about the pie I made, all of the comments making me feel like I've done a good job.

Once Spencer is done with his slice, he places the empty plate on his desk before wrapping his arms around my waist to pull me from the edge and onto his lap. Meanwhile, the rest of the team heads back to their desks, all of them having so much work to do all of a sudden.

Smiling at Spencer's antics, I lean my head back against his shoulder and look up at him, his chocolate eyes meeting my own (e/c) eyes. We both know we can't do this for long as neither of us want to be written up, but we can risk it for today.

"Did you like your birthday surprise?" I ask him, watching as he nods.

"Of course I did," he assures me, reaching a hand up to cup my cheek. Leaning my head down toward his, Spencer attaches his lips to mine for a second before pulling away, trying to keep it at least a little professional at work. "You should know that I enjoy anything you do."

"Oh yeah?" I can't help but ask, leaning my head a bit further into his shoulder. Still smiling, he looks away from my eyes as a red tint spreads across his cheeks. I almost laugh at the sight, finding the irony in the situation that he's already blushing despite me not saying my next comment yet.

"Well then, I know you'll enjoy tonight," I tell him, dressing another kiss to his cheek as his eyes growing wide at the many implications behind my words. I can only giggle at his reaction, reveling in the knowledge that that's the best part - he truly has no idea what's in store for him tonight. He doesn't know about our plans to go to the Chinese restaurant and eat with the rest of the team later, nor does he know about my plans to surprise him with a new set of lingerie in his favorite color tonight. However, I think he might have some growing suspicions going by the smirk that slowly worms its way across his face.

"I can't wait," He finally murmurs to me, giving my hip a tight, yet discreet squeeze. With that, I know he definitely has an idea of what's in store for him and I can't wait either.

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagines #matthew gray gubler imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

[michelle-is-writing]

Married Life, Ben Hardy

Word Count: 1.1k~

Bumping into an old friend was a rare occurrence in my life. Being in a different area and ultimately not being very popular made it hard for someone to pop up out of the blue and recognize me. Social media was the same way, oddly enough, but I didn't mind. I had my family, close friends, and most of all, my husband; the people whom I adored most were all I needed.

Still, seeing an old classmate did happen from time to time, and usually, it would become awkward. Sometimes, we greet each other before we uncomfortably bid each other goodbye. Other times, they would act as if they knew me close enough to consider me a 'bestie' when I was always just a wallflower. Tonight was no different.

Jim, an old Chemistry student, happened to see me at the bar of the restaurant Ben and I were having a date at. While waiting for my drinks, I watched him walk up to me and act as if it had only been a day since he last saw me rather than quite a few years. Unfortunately, I never liked Jim and his personality all that much back in high school, which then lead me to transfer seats across the room because of his never ending passes. By the looks of it and the comments he was making, nothing with him had changed.

For maybe a solid minute, he tried to flirt with me, despite me never reciprocating. It was only when Ben came up behind me and wrapped an arm around my waist that Jim stopped talking, only to smile and say, "Oh! I heard that you had gotten married!" The prick.

In the corner of my eye, I watched Ben smile and nod before smoothing his hands across my shirt, obviously giving off the message of both protectiveness and slight jealousy. Like almost everything else, Jim ignored the fact that Ben most likely knew what he was doing moments ago, and instead of leaving to spare himself the embarrassment, he spoke up once more. "How's married life treating you?"

"It's great!" I answered him, smiling at the reminder of Ben being mine and me being his. Just like before, Jim still didn't get the signs and only left after Ben spoke up after me.

"So is the sex life!"

"No, Ben, you just don't understand!" I tell him as soon as we walk through the door of our house, Ben heading straight for the couch. "You can't just say shit like that and expect me not to get embarrassed!" I continue while Ben remains sitting on the loveseat, fighting the shit-eating smile on his face.

"You don't just... bring up what you and I do in the bedroom to some guy I haven't seen since the tenth grade!" I tell him, watching as one of his hands comes up to cover his ever growing smile. A few seconds pass before he drops his pale hand and stares at me with bright green eyes and a now softer smile as if he were lovingly gazing at me with the purest intent.

"What?" I ask him, perplexed at his unwillingness to argue back or defend himself. I would think that Ben would be still standing and arguing every point I've made to him. Instead, he's just calmly sitting on the couch as if he were waiting for me to finish. It almost makes me want to fight even more, but what's the point if he's not even saying two words back to me?

"Nothing," Ben answers, shaking his head with the same smile. He's still staring at me with his dopey eyes and calm expression. "It's just..." He then sighs. "You look so hot when you're mad."

His comment makes me pause and close my eyes as a crimson blush takes over my cheeks. Of course he would say something like this - of course. It still doesn't mean that I'm not affected by his words; in fact, it's just the opposite. His words do this to me every time without fail. It's why I got so embarrassed at the restaurant.

"Ben, it is not the time," I tell him, opening my eyes to see him now rising from the chair. "You aren't even responding to anything I'm saying, so don't try to-"

"It's because I don't want to argue with you," Ben tells me, shrugging as if his answer was an obvious one. "I'm sorry my words embarrassed you, darling, truly, but to walk over and see that guy talking to my wife and staring at her with no intent on leaving her alone," With every word pronounced by his deep voice, he steps closer until stopping in front of me, his body towering over me with his looming height and figure. "It just made me want to do this."

With his final words, Ben pulls me into his arms and yanks me up into the air, my legs quickly wrapping around his waist as my arms circle his shoulders to hold on. My surprised gasp is cut short as Ben takes the chance to press his lips to mine, our eyes simultaneously closing as we kiss each other with an unrelenting passion. My anger mixed with his eagerness combines into intense kissing with our holds on each other tightening and hands grasping anything they feel with every second passing.

"Don't you want this too?" Ben asks, taking his lips away from mine. Almost immediately, he moves them to my neck as he begins placing kisses to any inch of skin he comes across. A stinging sensation begins to follow each one, making me nearly moan each time much to Ben's delight. My neck and chest will probably be purple and blue tomorrow, but I know neither of us is even remotely sorry.

"No," I pant out, feeling as Ben slightly backs off to look at me with an almost confused gaze. Meeting his green eyes with my (e/c) ones, I stare at his face and take in everything, knowing it all has to be mirrored on mine as well. His cheeks are flushed as they puff out with every breath he takes, and his blond hair is an absolute wreck from my hands mindlessly reaching up to comb through it. Not to mention his cherry lips are swollen and puffy now, the sight making me smile and lean in close to them before fully answering my husband. “I need it."

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy imagines #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy x fem reader #ben jones #roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor imagines #roger taylor fanfiction #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor x reader #queen band imagines #queen imagines #queen imagine #queen x reader

[michelle-is-writing]

Spencer Reid Masterlist ✨

Flirtatious, Spencer Reid

Beautiful Geniuses

Possibilities

Valentine’s Day Surprise

Baby Bump

Sex Hair

Gideon

The Movies

Unconventional Soulmates

Forgotten

Childhood Friends

Christmas Parties

Accidental Rejection

Stepping Stones

Tired

Unexpected Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Forehead Kisses

Wedding Dress Shopping

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

[michelle-is-writing]

Family, Ben Hardy

Word Count: 1.8k~

Warnings: mention of having kids, all of the family members are made up.

Ben's family wasn't gigantic, as he didn't have many siblings; however, he did have a lot of cousins who also had a lot of kids, which he still considered to be his nieces and nephews. This meant that family gatherings were always full of small children running around playing, occasionally getting an adult to join them in their fun activities. Sometimes it would be one of Ben's younger cousins, but because Ben loved his nieces and nephews to death (and he could never say no to them), he was the primary target of their games.

Upon walking onto Ben's parent's back patio with him beside me, I quickly give him a kiss on the lips just as one of his six-year-old nieces runs up and tries to drag him onto the yard where all the kids play football (or soccer, if you're in America). Smiling, he gives me one quick wave before blowing a kiss and yelling, "I love you!" It's nothing unusual - all of the kids love Ben.

It's only a matter of seconds before Ben is rolling around in the grass with his nephews and nieces as he playfully fights for the ball they're trying to hide from him. The sight makes me smile as the overwhelming sense of love I have for Ben rushes over me, causing my heart to beat like a hummingbird. Not to mention the slowly growing baby in my womb happens to make every sweet scene ten times more emotional as well.

"He sure does love kids," I hear a sweet voice say beside me, causing me to turn my head and see Ben's mom beside me. Almost immediately, I hug her, smiling as she hugs me back and holds me close, her sweet demeanor reflecting the one that Ben has. "When are you two going to have some?" She asks with a laugh, rubbing her hand on my shoulder.

Biting my lip, I pull away from the hug with an even brighter smile before answering. "Hopefully," I tell Ben's mom, taking her hand in mine before pressing it to my stomach. "This one will be here within the next six to seven months."

Almost instantly, she picks up on the blatant revelation before gasping with a grin and hugging me again, almost jumping out of her shoes. "This is wonderful!" She nearly shouts, making me laugh. Pulling back once more, she puts her hands on my shoulders to look at me. "You're pregnant!" She squeals, tears making their way to my eyes at her excitement.

"Ben doesn't know yet," I quickly tell her, receiving a confused look back from her in response. "I wanted to surprise him this weekend, and I just found out a few days ago," I explain as she moves a hand up to rest on my shoulder. With my explanation, she nods and smiles, placing her other hand on my stomach once more.

"You're not that far, are you?" She asks, receiving a head shake back from me.

"No, I think I'm only eight weeks along," I tell her, watching her light up as she turns her head toward Ben's dad as he walks closer.

"Honey, honey!" She beckons him over with a wave of her hand. Smiling, he stops beside her as she takes his hand in hers and places it against my stomach, just as I had done with her moments ago. "We're going to be grandparents!" She whisper-shouts to him with the same excited grin from moments ago.

Just like her, Ben's dad smiles brightly before hugging me, giving my back a few pats before pulling away. "That's fantastic," He says, hugging his wife to his side. "Although, I can tell Ben doesn't know yet."

With a confused smile, I question him, gaining an amused chuckle back. "I think if he knew, he wouldn't let you out of his sight," He explains, making both me and Ben's mom laugh. He's probably right.

Soon enough, Ben's parents go and greet other members of the family while I turn back to watch Ben play with the kids. It's nothing unusual to see the kids try and topple him over, and after a minute of them doing so, he always falls over purposely to make the kids laugh and feel victorious.

Although, what isn't normal is to see one of Ben's nephews, Jeremy, by himself in the garden area. From afar, he looks upset. You can tell by his hunched over form that he's trying to hide himself from the rest, and the sight alone makes me sad. Everyone else is having so much fun - so, why is he trying to be alone?

Walking down the steps of the patio, I walk across the pure green lawn and step onto the concrete stairs of the garden before sitting down beside the small boy. Jeremy glances over at me, only to quickly wipe away his tears.

"Jeremy, honey, what's wrong?" I quickly ask the small boy, placing my hand on his back, which prompts him to lean closer to me. Ben and I have been around these kids since they were little and could barely crawl, it was only expected that they grew close to us.

"Nothing, Auntie (Y/n)," He promises, despite his voice wavering. I frown at this, running my hand over his arm as he rests his head on my arm, trying hard not to resume crying.

"Jer, I know it's not "nothing" - it has to be something," I urge him, looking down to see him closing his puffy and red eyes. I need to know if something is really wrong with him.

After a few seconds, the seven-year-old lets out a sigh before talking. "Everyone is better than me," Jeremy mutters, kicking away a pebble with a gentle nudge of his foot.

"Why do you say that?" I ask, pushing away the hair that had fallen in his face.

"Because they are!" Jeremy practically thunders, only to quickly apologize at his outburst. "It's just... I'm not good at football like Uncle Ben or my cousins..." He further explains, "I'm not good at sports at all, really... everyone's just better than me at everything."

Not knowing what the right thing to do is, I do the first thing that comes to mind and pull him closer to me. "No, they aren't," I tell him, quickly resuming as he begins to cut me off. "And do you want to know something?"

"What?" The seven-year-old asks, peering up at me through crystal green eyes, just like Ben and Ben's father. It must be something passed down in the family; maybe mine and Ben's child will have his forest-like eyes as well.

"I think you are good at sports, but sports don't really matter - what matters is that you are such a kind, soft hearted boy who doesn't deserve to be sad ever," I begin, smiling down at him. "So, don't worry about sports, there are much more important things to worry about. Okay?"

A few seconds pass as Jeremy ponders my words before smiling brightly and practically jumping up from the garden steps. I was expecting him to be a bit cheerier, but I wasn't expecting a total turnaround in his sullen attitude. "Thanks, Auntie (Y/n)! You're gonna be the best mom!" The little boy shouts before running off to join the other kids in what I could assume is another game of football.

Meanwhile, I continue sitting in my spot on the stone steps, thinking about Jeremy's words just as he had done with mine. Smiling to myself, I miss the larger body moving to sit next to mine just before I jolt as I feel familiar arms wrap around me and pull me close. Jerking my head up to see who it is, I let out a small laugh once I see Ben's face, his blond locks matted against his forehead from sweat.

Smiling, Ben gazes down at me as his chest lightly heaves with each breath that enters and leaves his lips. The kids probably did a number on him, going by his reddened cheeks and panting. Not to mention the small drops of sweat sliding down his flustered skin and onto his (what used to be a nice) jumper.

"I heard what you told Jeremy," Ben mutters, moving close to press his lips against my temple. He then moves his hand to my stomach, causing me to accidentally hold my breath. "You are going to be a fantastic mom one day."

Just like earlier with his mom, tears begin forming in my eyes as I wrap my hand around his larger one on my stomach. Glancing back up at him, his eyebrows furrow once he sees my tear-laced eyes. Before he can ask me anything, I quickly explain myself. "Hopefully, in thirty-two weeks, I'll have the opportunity to do so," I tell him, watching as he slightly leans back a bit to look over me.

"Are you...?" He begins, only to stop himself as I nod. Almost instantly, a grin takes over Ben's features as he pulls me against him, moving his lips on top of mine while his arms hold me tightly against him. The tears in my eyes then fall without hesitation just as he moves to wipe them away.

"I'm so happy, darling," He tells me, standing and taking me with him as the grin returns to his face. As soon as I'm on my feet, Ben rewraps an arm around me and pulls me close, causing me to gaze up at him with an almost dopey smile. "No wonder Mum hasn't been able to stop grinning," he notes, giving my side a gentle squeeze before we both step back onto the lawn.

As soon as we do so, the kids run back to Ben and try to tug on my hand. "Auntie (Y/n)!" Berniece, one of our younger nieces, grins up at me. "Can you come and play?"

"Actually, Auntie (Y/n) was about to go rest," Ben tells the kids, making me turn to him with an eyebrow raised. Although, I can't help the smirk that comes to my lips - sure enough, Ben's dad was right. "In fact..." Ben mutters just before bending down to place his other arm under my legs and pick me up, resulting in me quickly gripping onto him for my life.

"Ben!" I shriek his name, making all the kids laugh. Ben just continues smiling as he looks at me in his arms, his dad's loud and happy voice from the porch following the sound of the kids' laughter.

"What did I tell you?!"

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