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avis-writeshq · 1 year

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01 — better than revenge

summary: “she’s not a saint, no, she’s not what you think. she’s an actress.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn warnings: fluff, angst with a happy ending, Lila is a real piece of work here, VERY CANON COMPLIANT, Spencer’s a bit of an ass :( wc: 10.4k a/n: special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading MWAH SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

“Hey kid, wheels up in thirty.” Derek nods towards you, dropping a case file on your desk.

You raise an eyebrow, flicking open the case file to the first page. A small laugh of disbelief leaves your lips. “Ooh, Los Angeles, media capital of the world. What’s the occasion?”

“Three murders, all shot in the head executional style.”

Your face falls into a grimace as you grab your go-bag and tuck the file under your arm, following the rest of the team to the jet. “Spence and Gideon are there already, right? Talk about timing.”

Elle can’t help but grin at your words, slinking an arm over your shoulder. “Looks like you’ll see loverboy a lot sooner than you think.”

A shriek of betrayal leaves your lips as you throw her arm off of you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Sure you don’t,” JJ all but cackles as she boards the plane, grinning the entire way.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you grumble, dropping your things on one of the seats in the jet. “Seriously, I mean it. I know how to get away with murder.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow at you, his gaze that of a disappointed yet amused father. “Not the brightest thing to say while you’re in a room full of FBI agents.”

Elle lets out a ‘hah!’ as she sits across from you, crossing one leg over the other as she grins. “Get comfortable, buttercup, six hour flight and you’re not going anywhere.”

“Assholes.” You roll your eyes teasingly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you turn to your case files. “And it’s not like that.”

“Oh, of course not,” Elle snickers, “you’re just friends.”

You throw a pen at her and it bounces off her leg harmlessly. “I can smell the sarcasm.”

“You’ll be smelling more of it,” Derek laughs, ruffling your hair. “Sit tight, kid, we’re in for a long flight.”

Once everyone was settled and the jet was high in the air, the team began to look through the files with Garcia on speaker as usual.

“First two victims, Wally Melman and Chloe Harris,” You recite dutifully, glancing over the grotesque crime scene images. “Seems like they were both killed in public places.”

“Chloe was killed while walking her dog on the beach in Santa Monica which she did every morning, and Wally was killed outside of a massage parlour,” JJ reiterates, sitting down with a cup of tea in her hand.

“In Culver City,” Derek adds.

“Which he went to every Tuesday,” Elle continues.

Derek looks to the rest of the team, a thoughtful look on his face. “Well, if he knows their schedules, maybe that means he follows his victims for a while.”

“And not a single witness. So we know this UnSub can blend in,” Hotch mutters. “Regardless of the location, he has the ability to hide in plain sight.”

“So, he’s meticulous.” Elle nods, her eyes drifting from Hotch to the case file.

“The media is calling Natalie Ryan’s murder the biggest celebrity homicide since Sharon Tate,” JJ adds, looking through the images of the newspaper clippings that were sent to her laptop.

“Great,” You muse, although frustration is clear in your voice. “What does that mean for us?”

Hotch lets out a sigh. “That everybody will be watching.”

***

“This guy is an assassin?” Detective Kim asks with disbelief as the rest of the team reiterates their thoughts once they were in the police department.

“When you look at the victimology, there’s no obvious links,” Morgan points out. “All the kills were clean except in the instance of the last victim, Jeremy Collins.”

You nod, tucking a strand of hair as you reference the case files. “There’s absolutely no evidence left at the crime scene. Labs have found zero DNA, no manifestation of psychosexual release, and from what we can tell there’s no detectable signature of any kind. These kills are straight forward, almost like he’s on a mission.”

“Remember, our profiles are formulated not just by what’s present at the scene but also what’s absent,” Gideon says to Detective Kim.

“From all the evidence that we’ve gathered, we believe you’re looking for a Type Four Assassin,” Elle explains.

“Type Four?”

Spencer immediately jumps in to explain, gesticulating throughout his explanation. “Type One’s are political assassins like John Wilkes Booth. Type Two’s are egocentrics looking for simple recognition.”

“Type Three’s are psychopaths,” Hotch continues, “cold-blooded killers who leave far messier scenes. Type Four, our UnSub, suffers from a major mental disorder and is frequently delusional.”

“The closer we come to figuring out that delusion, the closer we’ll get to finding the UnSub,” Reid points out.

Everyone is left to their own thoughts and you look over to Spencer, a soft grin on your face. “How was your father-son bonding time?”

Spencer gives you a pointed look, but a soft laugh leaves his lips. “It was… fine.”

“Fine? Out of everyone on the team, Gideon chose you to present a talk about behavioural analysis and profiling to the LAPD. You love conferences. C’mon, give me something!” You nudge his shoulder gently.

“We uh.. we went to an art gallery the other day. We met a movie star, so that was cool…” his cheeks are dusted with a soft pink as he talks and your curiosity only increases.

“A movie star, huh? Look at you, mingling with the high and mighty.” You poke his cheek with a laugh. “Tell me about them.”

He flushes at the contact, clearing his throat. “Um… her name is Lila Archer. Have you heard of her? She’s–”

“Reid, (L/N), we’re meeting with someone,” Derek cuts in, nodding towards the both of you.

You blink in confusion as you follow him to another room. “Suspect?”

“Someone received a note,” Derek says quickly, glancing over at the note in Elle’s hands. “On a newspaper clipping of the latest murder.”

“Lila?”

A blonde woman was sitting in the next room over, her legs crossed over as she waits. Her eyes light up in recognition and she stands up. You can’t help but be impressed as you give her a quick once over. She’s gorgeous, exactly what you expect from a famous movie star.

“I’m Agent (L/N),” You say gently, moving from your spot next to Spencer and holding your hand out. “This is Agent Morgan and I’m assuming you already know Doctor Reid. I understand that you received a note this morning?”

She wearily shakes your hand, her blue eyes flitting between you and Reid. “Yeah.”

“We just have a few questions to ask. We know that these things are sensitive, but we promise we’ll try to make the situation as easy as possible for you.” You shoot her a kind smile, excusing her weariness for fear or anxiety. “Is that alright?”

“Sure.” She respond curtly, shooting a smile towards Spencer before walking past you.

“Uh… okay?” You let out a little laugh in confusion and Derek raises an eyebrow at you.

“What was that about?” He asks, frowning.

You shrug your shoulders, watching as Spencer leads her to an empty desk. “Trust me, I have no idea. Maybe she’s just nervous and wants to talk to a familiar face.”

Derek hums in thought. “Maybe. But usually victims like this are more willing to speak to someone of the same gender. It’s strange that she was so direct to you.”

“She’s been through a traumatic experience. If I got a newspaper clipping with a message written in blood, I probably wouldn’t be too thrilled meeting new people either,” You defend, pursing your lips. “She’s probably just… scared, right?”

He doesn’t respond, moving to follow Spencer and Lila further into the police department. A few questions were asks about her relationship with the other victims, only to find that she was in fact the connection between the other victims. Wally Melman was a producer who Lila met with a few times to discuss a role, only for him to cast Natalie Ryan instead. Chloe Harris looked an awful lot like Lila, so it was likely that the UnSub got rid of her in order to ‘ice-out’ the competition.

“(L/N), may I talk to you for a moment?” Hotch asks quickly, waving you over.

You blink in confusion but nod, walking over to where he stands by the desk. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“I want you to try and get as much information from Lila as possible.” He gestures to where Lila sits in one of the victim waiting rooms. “This is your area of expertise. Try and find out if there’s any distinct information that she’s given to anyone so that we can track the UnSub.”

“Got it.” You offer a smile, fixing your shirt as you agree. “I’ll update you if I get any new information.”

You make your way over to where Lila was sitting, trying to look as friendly as possible. “Hey, Lila. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?”

She glances over you for a second, looking you up and down before shaking her head. “I’m fine. Where’s Spencer?”

Your brows furrow at his words. “Doctor Reid…? He’s currently going through the timeline of events with our colleagues. In the meantime, I was hoping to ask a few questions, maybe shed some light on the entire situation.”

She raises an eyebrow before nodding. “Okay.”

“Alright…” you clear your throat, taking a seat across from her. “You mentioned that you receive a bowl of red anemones on the seventh of every month. Do you mind… telling me why you like those flowers so much?”

She shrugs dismissively, running a hand through her blonde hair. “They’re pretty. I like the colour.”

You nod slowly, writing that down in your notes. “Well that’s understandable; they’re very beautiful flowers. But they’re a little uncommon as a favourite flower, don’t you think? If you like the colour, a more common favourite flower would be poppies or roses… are you sure there isn’t another reason? The meaning behind red anemones is forsaken love and death… does that intrigue you at all?”

She scoffs, “are you trying to accuse me of something?”

“Not at all,” you say quickly, “I apologise if it comes off that way. I’m just trying to find out as much as possible about the entire situation. For all we know, those flowers could have been sent by the UnSub.”

A short silence lulls in the room as well as an awkward tension. So, you try to take things from another angle.

“I love hydrangeas,” you say gently, a small smile on your lips. “I like the way they’re always bunched together and the colours are beautiful. Only a few people know that I like them though. My close friend and colleagues, my family… do you remember telling anyone about your favourite flower?”

She’s quiet for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know.”

Your face falls and you press a little more. “Are you sure you don’t remember? Maybe… maybe your manager, or a friend of yours?”

“I said ‘I don’t know’, okay?” She snaps, her hands balling into fists as she glares at you. “God, it’s not that hard to understand.”

You lean back in your chair, your gaze hardening. “I understand that this is difficult for you, but any information–”

“I don’t have any information!” Lila huffs, her hands placed in her lap. “Are you stupid or something?”

“The likelihood of these people being murdered because of you is incredibly high,” You say sharply, shutting your notebook. “If you’re withholding information from us it could prove detrimental to the investigation. I’m only trying to do my job. Asking you questions is part of my job.”

Her lips twitch at your words and she scowls. “I already told you I don’t remember.”

“Not remembering and not knowing are two different things, Ms Archer.” You place your card on the table. “If you remember anything, please give me a call.”

You get up from your seat, heading to the door, only to see that it was wide open with Derek and Spencer standing at the doorway. In seconds, Lila’s gaze softens and she runs out of the room, sniffling as she does. Your gaze follows her as she runs out of the police station, a look of disbelief on your features.

“What the…”

“Seriously (Y/N)?” Spencer demands, a frown on his face.

You gape at his words. “What are you–”

He cuts you off, running after Lila. Derek raises an eyebrow in their direction before turning to you.

“You okay, pretty girl?” Derek asks gently, patting your shoulder.

“Honestly? I have no idea,” You confess quietly, biting your lip. “I’ve never seen him get so…”

“Upset? Angry?” he finishes, a small laugh leaving his lips. “You and me both. Look, kid, it’s not your fault. She was clearly being dismissive of your questions and she needed a reality check.”

“It’s not like I’ve never spoken that way when interrogating someone before,” You point out, brows furrowed in frustration. “Even then, Spencer has never had an issue with it. I just– I don’t understand what’s got him so worked up.”

Derek can’t help but laugh. “You’re a profiler. Isn’t it obvious?”

You pause for a moment, thinking through their interaction. “He has a crush on her, doesn’t he? He likes her. Of course he does. Brilliant, now he’s involved.”

Derek pats you on the back sympathetically. “Come on, pretty girl. We’ve got a job to do.”

***

Despite your original hesitancy, Hotch asked you personally to go with the others, meaning that you had no right to refuse. Well, you could, but that would mean throwing Elle under the bus and she would be much more helpful at the precinct than on set. So, before you could fake being sick and bail the investigation, you, Derek, and Spencer went to check out the set of Lila’s movie, hoping to better observe her interactions with her costars and the staff.

The inside of Lila’s small trailer is hot. Incredibly hot but relatively empty. As you look around, you gather that she’s either a minimalist or just didn’t have to spend a lot time in the trailer at all. Lila sits in front of the little group, wearing a robe to cover her costume: a cyan sequinned bikini set that she looked absolutely criminal in. Her hair has been styled in a classic blowout and you wonder how much time it took to get it to look so effortless.

“I’m not stopping my life,” she says, her voice almost stern as she steps out of the trailer and back onto the set.

You purse your lips as you glance at the paper in the plastic pocket, now labelled as ‘evidence’. Apparently it was taped up to the door of her trailer. Your eyes shift to Spencer who’s gaze doesn’t leave the door that Lila just walked out of for much longer than necessary. Neither of you have spoken since yesterday’s incident.

You hum thoughtfully, as you pull out your notebook, glancing at the notes you’ve been making. “Well, I guess the only thing we can do is talk to the people on set. Maybe they saw something. I’ll see if I can find out who has access to Lila’s trailer.”

Spencer nods in your direction. “Yeah, that’s… that’s a good idea.”

One of your eyebrows quirk up. “Okay…? Why do you sound so surprised?”

He flushes under your scrutiny, clearing his throat as the three of you begin to walk out of the trailer and towards the set. “I’m not! I– I’m not surprised. You’re good at your job.”

“You didn’t seem to think that yesterday,” You respond lightly, your tone petty and passive aggressive, gaze flickering between the cameras and lights on set.

Derek coughs awkwardly before excusing himself and entering further into the set leaving you and Spencer alone outside by a vending machine. Spencer falters at your words and he runs a hand through his hair. The harsh Los Angeles sun beats down against your skin and you fiddle with the notebook in your hands. In turn, he fixes up his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbow, giving you a clear view of his forearms and large hands.

“I’m sorry,” He says softly, chewing on his bottom lip. “I didn’t– I was out of line.”

“You were,” You agree, your gaze shifting between the chilled bottled drinks in the vending machine and him. “Buy me a drink and we’ll call it even.”

A boyish grin grows on his face and he nods, pulling out his wallet. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, awesome. Iced coffee?”

“You know me so well,” you respond with an equally large smile, poking his cheek. “Thank you!”

He presses a few buttons, grabbing a Cola for himself. You can’t help but laugh, giving him a pointed look. He quickly moves to defend himself, “It’s a hot day, okay? An exception.”

“An exception,” You repeat, trying to hide your smile as you crack open the lid of your drink and take a sip. “What happened to ‘Cola has 50 grams of sugar in it. That’s the equivalent of eating two full bars of milk chocolate’?”

He pouts at your words, opening his drink and you watch as a few bubbles rise to the top of the bottle. He takes a swig of his drink, sighing in content. “Shut up.”

You laugh again once you officially enter the set, nudging Spencer with your arm teasingly. He nudges you back, rolling his eyes and poking your cheek. You retaliate by doing the same, swinging your drink as you walk.

Before you could do or say anything else, Derek taps your shoulder. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.”

Spencer’s brows furrow. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to cross reference answers,” Derek dismisses.

“Let me pull up my list,” You respond helpfully, grabbing your notebook. “Hey, Spence, do you mind canvassing the rest of the crew? See if anyone pays any special attention on Lila?”

He nods at your words, moving towards Lila, sipping on his drink. In the meantime, you turn towards Derek, a curious look on your face.

“Little Miss Madonna has been glaring at you since the moment you entered the set,” Morgan says quietly, his gaze flitting to where Lila was making coffee.

You practically snap your neck as you look up in her direction, watching as she quickly fumbles to make herself a cup of something. You turn away and you could practically feel her gaze burning against your scalp. A frown makes its way onto your face and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. You glance over to where she and Spencer were talking, blanching when you watch as she takes a swig of his Cola.

“You don’t mind, do you?” You hear her ask as she drinks and Spencer hurriedly shakes his head.

A quiet scoff leaves your lips and Derek nudges you with a look that reads ‘behave.’ You lift your hands in surrender and follow him over to where Spencer now stands by himself, Lila gone to talk to some other staff member.

“An exception, huh?” You ask Spencer, referring to his aversion to germs and sharing food. Your tone is mostly teasing despite the underlying bitterness beneath it.

“Shut up.” He mutters quietly, cheeks hot from embarrassment of being caught.

Derek snorts, clapping his shoulder before moving on.

***

The next day, you were going over the evidence that was provided by the LAPD. Considering that it was a relatively young case, there weren’t copious amounts of evidence, meaning that there were still untied strings to go through. The entire situation proved more difficult than necessary; no one seemed to notice anything amiss when it came to Lila and her relationships, and considering that the actress wasn’t very forthcoming with the information she knew, you were hitting dead-end after dead-end.

Although geographical profiling was more of Spencer’s expertise than yours, you figured it wouldn’t do anyone harm by triangulating the previous three murders. He was standing beside you, his presence not unwelcome as he guides you step by step on how to plot an understandable and accurate profile. Hotch had asked him to coach you through the entire situation and explain his point of view, as well as his thought process when it came to geographical profiling. With a comfort zone now clearly expressed, you were discussing probable suspects on the phone with Garcia.

“Will Hunter… currently the town hermit, previous criminal record of armed battery and robbery,” Garcia recites, and you pull up his file.

“Mm… maybe? No, I don’t think so. His crimes don’t match the UnSub’s profile. He seems to be messier, uh, tending to use bats and knives than a clean shot to the head. And the profile suggests that the UnSub is able to blend in with the crowd.” You hum in thought, turning to Spencer.

“Hermits like Will Hunter wouldn’t be able to do that,” He explains to Garcia, putting his file into the ‘unlikely’ folder.

Garcia sighs in frustration and you can hear her furiously type away on her computer. “How about–”

“Hold that thought,” Elle says quickly, cutting Penelope off apologetically. “(Y/N), did you know Lila’s here?”

You blink in confusion, slowly shaking your head no. “She’s here? I didn’t get any calls from her.”

Elle shrugs at your words. “She looks like she’s going to burn a hole through your head.”

Your brows furrow and your gaze shifts to the blonde woman through the office window. She has her arms folded over her chest, a scowl on her face, before her cheeks burn in embarrassment of being caught. Spencer follows your gaze, his face lighting up at the sight of the actress. It’s almost as if he has selective hearing when it comes to his celebrity crush, clearly not hearing the part where Elle points out that Lila has been glaring at you the entire time.

“Can we talk outside?” You ask Elle quickly, getting up from your seat, not taking no for an answer.

Spencer opens his mouth to say something before he shuts it, watching as you drag your other co-worker out of the room. Your attention shifts between Lila and Elle, your brows furrowing.

“What is it?” You ask, your back turned towards the actress. “Why is she here?”

“She gave me a list of people who know what her favourite flower is,” Elle says quietly.

Your ears go red at her words, your eyes practically bulging out of your head. “Excuse me?”

“She called me yesterday,” she explains, handing you the list of people. “She said that she remembers who they were and came in today to give me a list of people.”

You scoff in disbelief, throwing your hands up in the air in frustration. “I gave her my card.”

“She called and asked for me.”

You scoff again, rolling your eyes. “Oh, so suddenly she can remember everything when she talks to you, but nothing when she talks to me? She’s not very slick.”

The door behind you opens, revealing Spencer who has been listening in the entire time. His jaw is clenched and a frown is etched upon his features as he looks at you accusingly.

“Maybe she just didn’t remember,” he points out harshly as you and Elle re-enter the room.

An incredulous look makes its way into your face. “Excuse me?”

“She didn’t remember, and now she does,” Spencer says, and from the corner of your eye you watch Elle slowly leave the room once more. The door closes with a soft click.

“That doesn’t change the fact that she went to Elle and not to me,” you respond, trying to keep your voice even and your words clear. You take a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself down.

Spencer scowls at you. “Maybe she has every right to go to Elle after you snapped at her the first time you tried to talk to her.”

“Are you– are you being serious right now?” A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you glare up at him. “Look, Reid, I’m sorry that I’m not her biggest fan and that I don’t kiss the ground she walks on, but I was doing my job. A job that I believe I am quite good at. It’s not like speaking harshly is unheard of when it comes to the retrieval of information.”

He flinches when you call him by his last name but he stands his ground. “If you were so good at your job, you wouldn’t have to speak to her that way,” he argues, and you can see the vein in his forehead begin to protrude.

His words sting and bite you and suddenly you feel your resolve snapping. “You know what?” The words are slow and deliberate as they leave your lips, and you jab a finger against his chest. “I get that you have a crush on her and that you’re finally going through puberty but that does not mean that you can ignore the job you are currently on.”

He swallows thickly and he opens his mouth to retaliate but you push your finger against his chest once more.

“I am not finished.” Your voice is low with frustration and annoyance as you scowl, glaring up at him. “I don’t care who you’re attracted to or who you want to sleep with. I don’t give a damn if that someone is victim in the investigation because it’s not my problem. I do, however, have a problem when you undermine my ability to do my job and do nothing to fix it.

The worst part is the fact that you’re my friend. You’re supposed to be supportive and helpful and– and– and understanding.” Your mouth is moving quicker than your brain can register and you’re stumbling over your words as you snap at him. “I’m supposed to be able to go to you if I’m going through something. I should be able to talk to you if someone or something is bothering me, but now I’m just afraid that you’ll call me crazy and then criticise me all over again.”

His face falls and he looks at you like a kicked puppy as the words slowly sink in. He reaches out to you, his hazel eyes searching your face but the only emotion that you’re showing is anger. You push his hand away, the frown set on your eyebrows. It’s only then when you realise that Garcia has been listening into the conversation the entire time, your heart lurching to a stop when you hear her cough on the other side of the line.

“Um… is now a bad time to say that I didn’t get any other hits for the profile?” She asks tentatively through the speaker, and you feel your face burning.

“I need air,” you announce to no one in particular, before grabbing your files and storming out of the room.

Elle catches your arm on the way out, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. “(Y/N)-“

“Hey. Sorry.” You bite your lip, loosening the grip you have on your papers. “Where’s Hotch?”

“With Derek and Gideon,” she says gently. “Lila got another note and we’re going to check on her manager. Do you want to come with?”

You exhale before nodding. “Yeah. That’d be good.”

“Okay.” She squeezes your arm gently, her eyes flitting between you and Spencer who was inside the conference room, pacing back and forth. “Is… everything alright?”

“Honestly? No.” You offer her a wry smile, shoving your files into your bag. “But it’s fine.”

She chuckles a little in disbelief, leading you to the black SUVs outside. Derek and Gideon were already there, waiting patiently for the two of you while Hotch has already left in another SUV. Apparently the ‘no profiling each other’ rule was thrown out the window as soon as they saw the state you were in, and Derek quickly makes his way over to you.

“(Y/N), are you–”

“I’m fine,” you snap, before closing your eyes tightly and letting out a deep breath. “Sorry, Morgan. I’m okay, just had an argument with Reid.”

At that, his eyebrows shoot upwards. “Since when did you call him ‘Reid’? And what do you mean you had a fight with him? He literally can’t say no to you.”

“Yeah, that was before a Miss Archer walked into the room,” you mutter bitterly. “Shot a literal arrow through his heart. She put her name to good use. I never stood a chance.”

“Hey now, don’t say that,” Elle says, climbing into the SUV. You follow closely behind and she continues. “He’s just confused right now.”

You can’t help but scoff. “I really doubt that.”

Gideon starts the car, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “You’re a profiler. What do you really think?”

The words die at your tongue and you deflate into the seat of the car. You hate to admit it, but Gideon is right. You should be able to figure out exactly what Spencer is thinking. After all, he’s your best friend– you shouldn’t have to be worrying about guessing games when it comes to him.

Hotch is the first to arrive at the manager’s office, watching as your group pull up in front of the building. Once everyone clambours out of the car, they enter the building, a sigh of relief leaving them as they enjoy the air conditioned lobby. With a flash of a badge, the receptionist is quick to tell you which floor and room number Michael was in.

“Floor 11, Room 03,” you mumble to yourself as you scribble it down in your notes.

The elevator ride is silent and you rock back and forth on your feet as the lift begins to rise. Your head is spinning with thoughts and regrets as you consider the harsh words that you spat at Spencer’s face less than an hour ago. You must not have been hiding your frustration well because Hotch finally says something.

“Is everything alright?” He asks, much like a father would when their child is having a tantrum. It’s fitting.

You shrug. “I will be.”

“Is it to do with Reid?”

You cough awkwardly, glancing back at the notes in your hand. “That obvious?”

Derek snorts from behind you. “Yeah, a little.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with him,” Elle adds, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“I am– I am not in love with him!” You all but shriek, shooting her a half hearted glare and you stutter out a response. “I mean, I– uh– I like him but–“

“You are a horrible liar,” Derek cackles and you groan.

Hotch and Gideon watch amused at the interaction, and the latter finally pipes in.

“Profiling isn’t something you can just turn off,” he explains to you, his tone gentle. He reminds you of a grandfather giving advice to their youngest grandchild, and a small smile makes its way onto your face. He continues to speak, “it’s subconscious and it becomes a habit. The only time it stops is when you either need it most, or when you don’t want to see anything.”

The elevator comes to a stop on the eleventh floor and Michael’s office wasn’t far away. The writing on the frosted glass reads ‘1103, Michael Ryer & associates, talent management’ and Elle raps on the door.

“Hello?”

“Mr Ryer?” Gideon calls.

She knocks a few times again before opening the door entirely. “Michael–”

You’re met with Michael Ryer, dead in his arm chair and shot to the head, just like all the other victims. Despite having faced these circumstances before, you still feel sick to the stomach as you stare at Michael’s lifeless body and soulless eyes. It’s unnerving.

“Up until now every victim was a person who could be perceived as a threat to Miss Archer,” Hotch comments as they enter the room, pulling out his phone.

“Yeah, but Michael was a friend,” Elle says with a frown.

You look up from your notes. “He was a threat to the stalker.”

In less than twenty minutes, the LAPD dispatched forensics and evidence teams to the office. Lila and Spencer were on their way back to her house, deciding that it was best to deny the stalker access to her. You rifle through Michael’s belongings: his schedules, his files… everything until you come to one particular manila envelope.

“Morgan, Elle, look at this,” you murmur, pulling the photos out of the envelope. “Pictures of Lila… nude.”

A flash of a grimace passes along Elle’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears. “He was probably paying someone to keep them out of the press.”

“The name on the file says Joe Martinez,” Derek mutters, turning the envelope over.

The name must have struck a chord, because Detective Kim’s head immediately snaps around to look at you. “Paparazzo?”

You blink. “You know this guy?”

“Yeah, I deal with him a lot,” Kim responds, his face stoic.

“We should follow that lead,” You comment, tucking the photos back in the envelope and looking over at Detective Kim and Derek. “I’m ready to go when you are?”

After an okay from Hotch, you, Derek, and Detective Kim make your way over to the Joe Martinez’s place. After knocking on the door to his place multiple times, Derek decides to open it in the way he knows best: by kicking it down. You grip your gun, holding it out in front of you as you travel through the hallways.

“Clear!” You yell out upon pushing another door open, seeing nobody inside.

“(Y/N), you need to check this out,” comes Morgan’s call, and you follow the direction of his voice

Pinned above a small desk are picture upon pictures of Lila Archer. When she has lunch, when she’s out with her friends… it’s almost as if this person has completely documented her life. It’s a little nerve wracking, knowing that someone could follow you and take photos without anyone even realising.

“Hey is that–” you pause, pulling a piece of paper off the wall. “This is Lila’s schedule.”

Derek blinks in surprise. “I’m guessing he’s not supposed to have that?”

“No,” Detective Kim responds, and your gaze shifts to the table.

“Hey, isn’t that–” you feel your heart practically stop as you see who’s in the photos.

“That’s Reid,” Derek mutters.

Kim shifts through the photos. “There’s a whole bunch of them,” he says, pulling out at least five or six print outs. “Is he a target now?”

Derek scoffs, throwing the photos on the table and pulling out his phone, making a beeline for the exit. “Not if I can help it.”

You and Detective Kim follow him out, making your way to the SUV.

“Reid? Hey, it’s Morgan. Listen, you gotta watch your back over there, we just found a bunch of close-up photos of you at this guy Joseph Martinez’s studio. It looks like he could be the UnSub.”

As he speaks you feel your heart pound in your ears. Your head is dizzy with fear and you’re following after Morgan who’s walking unbelievably quickly.

“He has a ton of photos of Lila and Nathalie plus a call sheet for Lila’s show,” Derek continues, the speed of his walk not wavering. “(Y/N) and I are on our way right now but I need you to be real careful until we get there, all right?”

You look down to shove your notes back into your bag when you hear it. The distinct vrooming of a motorcycle engine. You don’t think too much of it, only turning your head to look over your shoulder, your hand finding the handle of the car door. That’s all it takes for the motorcyclist to drive straight toward you and the others, pointing an arm out.

“Gun!” You manage to scream, just before the UnSub open fires, hitting Detective Kim.

You dive behind the car, grimacing when your knee collided roughly against the pavement. By the time you manage to recover and grab your gun out of its holster, the UnSub is long gone. You stare as Morgan fires a couple shots before watching the motorcyclist ride off into the LA traffic, and you turn to Detective Kim.

“You got hit. Where?” You ask, shoving your gun back into its holster.

He grunts in pain, his entire weight on the car as he groans out, “yeah, it’s fine. Just my shoulder.”

“Derek, call for help,” you order, pressing firmly at the wound with your hand to lessen the bleeding. He lets out a cry of pain and you wince. “Sorry, it’s bleeding a lot. Gunshot wound to the shoulder, no exit wound. Seeing as you’re not already dead, I don’t think it hit any major arteries, but it might have busted your collarbone. You’re lucky if that’s the extent of the damage. The shoulder contains a bunch of important and major bloodlines, as well as nerve endings.”

Derek turns to you with a wry smile. “You’re starting to sound like Reid.”

“You spend four years with him, you’ll start to learn a few things,” you respond with a humourless laugh. You continue to press against Detective Kim’s wound, murmuring an apology.

“You should talk to him,” Derek prompts.

You scoff, “we have a detective bleeding in front of us and the thing you’re worried about is my love life?”

“Isn’t the first rule of relieving pain through distraction?” He asks. You shoot him an unimpressed look and he quickly nods his head. “Okay, sorry.”

Ten minutes later, Detective Kim is hoisted into the ambulance. You cringe as you wash his blood off your hands, once, twice, then a third time to make sure everything is gone. Your shirt has a couple of blood spots and you can’t help but frown; you liked that shirt. At least the stain isn’t too big– just a few splotches here and there.

“It’s a good thing you held the wound,” an EMT praises, working quickly to secure Kim’s shoulder. “He shattered his collarbone, but you seemed to have managed to control the bleeding.”

If it weren’t for the circumstances, you would have shouted a clear ‘I told you so’ to both Derek and Detective Kim, but you keep your mouth shut.

Hotch, Gideon, and Elle arrive moments later, speaking to Derek about the detective’s injuries.

“You okay?” Elle asks gently, squeezing your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you murmur, wringing your hands together. “Just a little jumpy. I’ll be fine.”

“We need to get to her house,” Gideon mutters, glancing at the group.

Without another moment to lose, you’re clambering into an SUV, gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white. Elle climbs into the passenger seat beside you, her brows knitted together in concern. She opens her mouth to say something but shuts it, watching as you start the car and speed off into the direction of Lila’s house.

After slamming the door shut and gripping the gun firmly in the palm of your hand, you follow Derek through the back entry of the house. You weren’t even sure if it could even be counted as a ‘house’; the place looked like it had at least five bedrooms on both floors. Derek glances at you, signalling to be quiet, then another to keep your eyes on him. A quiet splashing in the pool alerts your attention, and despite his attempts of getting you to not look, you do. And as soon as you do, you really wish you hadn’t.

You are met with the sight of Lila Archer in her bikini-clad glory, in the pool with Doctor Spencer Walter Reid. Doctor ‘pools are incredibly unhygienic, harbouring more than 50 million different types of bacteria’ Reid. And as if it couldn’t get any worse, you watch as their lips touch again and again, his hands cupping her face and her hands arms around his neck.

Spencer pulls away from the kiss, his breath heavy and his head spinning. This is wrong. He’s not supposed to being do this. His brain is short circuiting and it’s even worse when he considers all the germs that could be in this pool. His head spins with the names of viruses and bacteria that could be festering in the waters he was currently in, and then he remembers he has more pressing matters to attend to. Namely the girl who was literally pressing her lips to his.

He pulls away, stammering over responses. “We can’t– we shouldn’t. I’m a federal agent and you’re–”

Lila stares at him, amused, with her hands cupping his neck. “There’s no one here.”

“I’m supposed to be protecting you,” Spencer tries again, anxiety gnawing at his stomach. This is wrong. Unprofessional. Then his mind wanders to you and the nagging voice in the back of his mind urges him to do something.

“There are police out front,” Lila says, kissing him again before continuing, “there are coyotes out back.”

“This is completely inappropriate,” Spencer stutters out, his hands reaching for her shoulders. Her skin is cold from the summer night’s breeze, even more so considering how they’re submerged in disgusting chlorine-filled pool water.

“This?” She presses her lips to his once more. “What’s this?”

“This isn’t–” he swallows thickly, his cheeks flared. “No, there’s this thing called transference–”

Lila pulls away, her stare drifting from his eyes to his lips as she asks, “you don’t like me?”

Spencer blanches at the question. “What?”

“You don’t like me,” Lila repeats, more sure of herself now. “It’s because of her, right?”

He frowns at the insinuation. “‘Her’? Who’s ‘her’?”

“The other person on your team,” Lila says, her words bitter. “You like her don’t you?”

His mouth goes dry and he opens and closes it like a fish out of water. “What?”

“Let me change your mind,” she whispers, bringing her lips to his for the nth time.

Spencer barely has time to react, his hands moving to the side of her face and he imagines that she’s you. But she’s not you and you would never kiss him in the middle of the pool. You would never pull him in by his tie and cut him off when he’s speaking. He pulls away.

“Stop. Stop, Lila, I’m sorry, I have to– I have to tell you something.” His mind is blanking. Why is it that when he needs it, his brain shuts off?

“What?” Lila asks, her lips moving to his cheek and then to his jaw.

“I didn’t want to tell you this before because I was a bit worried.” He’s screaming at himself in his head, kicking himself because ‘why the hell did he just say that?!’ Regardless of the way he wishes he could shut his mouth and run out of the pool, he continues, “I don’t know how to say it but I can’t not tell you.”

“What is it?” She finally pulls away and Spencer lets out a breath of relief.

The relief is short lived because he starts to blab, “Your manager, Michael–”

“What?”

“Gideon went to check on him but he got there too late.” Spencer thinks he’s going to hurl, his mind running a million times an hour and screaming, ‘No you idiot! No, no, no! Out of all the things you could say–’

Lila scrambles out of the pool, clearly distraught, and he reaches out to touch her arm… only to be swatted away with her sobbing and telling him not to touch her. He figures he deserves that and follows out of the pool after her.

“How could you– how could you not tell me?” Lila demands, her tears mixing with the pool water already on her face.

“I was afraid you’d be upset,” Spencer says lamely, water dripping from his trousers and he just wants a towel.

“You– you knew what you knew and… how could you not…?” She’s on the verge of hyperventilating and she looks at him before looking away.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says quietly, not knowing what else to say.

Lila retreats into her house, shutting the glass sliding door behind her and Spencer can only watch as she throws a pillow at the wall before going up the stairs to her room. He stands there, in the cold, dripping wet from the pool water and he wipes his face with his hand. His gun sits on the table, damp, and he has the urge to scream. Before he could do something exceedingly stupid, the sound of footsteps alert him and he spins around.

“Elle?”

“We found him in the bushes,” she says to Spencer, nodding to the guy being cuffed by Derek.

“I told her she should cut those.” He says dismissively, wiping his gun with a towel. He looks at her and then at you. He swallows thickly, noticing the way your eyes look him up and down, the disapproval oozing in your stare. “I– uh– I fell in.”

“Yeah,” you respond, holding the camera up and a sarcastic smile blossoms on your face. “I’m sure there are plenty of photos of it.”

He sighs, “(Y/N)–”

“Hey, stop shoving me, man!” Joe snaps as Derek pushes him to walk forward.

“You’re a suspect in the murder of Wally Melman, Natalie Ryan, and Jeremy Collins.”

You watch as Joe’s face comically contorts from annoyance to confusion as he jumps to defend himself. “Murder? What? Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”

“Just shut up with the ‘whoa’. We know for a fact that you have hundreds of photographs of Lila Archer and Natalie Ryan on the walls of your studio. You have Miss Archer’s daily schedule on your desk. You’ve been stalking her.”

“Look, guy, hold up. Every paparazzi’s a celebrity stalker,” Joe says and the rest of the group turn to look at him incredulously. He continues to speak undeterred. “If you don’t stalk them, you don’t get the shot, and if you don’t get the shot, you don’t sell no pictures.”

“Yeah, well this one’s gonna cost you,” you hum, holding the camera in your hands and ripping the film out despite his yells of defiance.

Derek steps forward, pushing Joe to keep him walking. “Tell it to your lawyer.”

“Wh– I’m still being locked up?”

“That’s right, at the very least you’re trespassing.”

Elle and Derek walk Joe out of the premises, and you push the pulverised film against Spencer’s chest. He grips it in his hands, a soft ‘oof’ leaving his lips at the contact.

“You’re welcome,” you mutter, albeit a little bitterly, as you turn to follow the rest of your team out.

“(Y/N), listen, it didn’t mean anything,” he says softly, squeezing the film in his fist tightly while the other hand reaches out to you.

You roll your eyes, opening up the sliding door. “I told you, Reid, I don’t care who you sleep with.”

He splutters a little, pushing his hair away from his face. “We didn’t– I didn’t– we didn’t sleep together, you know that.”

“Even more reason why I shouldn’t care.”

His hand grips onto your shoulder, turning you around so that you’re facing him. “But you do. ‘Shouldn’t’? You care. You clearly obviously care, (Y/N).”

“I don’t,” you deny, pushing his hand away. “Reid–”

“Stop calling me that.”

“–it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m leaving.”

He grabs onto your arm, stopping your retreat. “Why are you being like this?”

“I am not ‘being like’ anything!”

“(Y/N).”

“Doctor, this is highly unprofessional.”

He has to stop the frustrated groan that was moments away from leaving his lips as he stares at you. His eyes ghost over your frame, stopping directly at the dark red splotches on your shirt.

“What happened?” He demands, taking a step closer. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“Who’s blood is that?”

“Detective Kim’s.”

“What– were you shot at?”

His hands fly to your face, trembling and cold, and you would have thought it was romantic if he didn’t do the exact same thing less than twenty minutes ago with another girl.

“It doesn’t matter,” you dismiss quietly.

“Don’t say that.”

“God, you act as if we’re dating or something!” You snap, pulling away from him.

He stops short, his cheeks and ears reddening at your words. His mind goes blank and suddenly he feels very warm at the idea. Dating you? Every moment he had with Lila in that pool is nothing compared to the idea of dating you.

He watches as you roll your eyes before tugging your arm out of his grip. He wants to cry out again, to say something, but his head just seems to repeat the words ‘we’re dating’ over and over again.

“Just forget it, Reid.” You look to the house and your gaze grows steely once more. “Your girlfriend is calling.”

***

“I want to try and talk to some of Lila’s close friends,” you say to the others after getting off the phone with Garcia. “According to Penelope, there’s a girl named Maggie Lowe on the list that Lila gave us and they’ve known each other since college. Apparently, they spent a lot of time together and Lila helped her get a job.”

“I’ll go with you,” Elle says instantly, climbing into the car. “Why Maggie?”

You start the ignition, backing out of the driveway and onto the main road, following the GPS directions. “They spend almost all of their time together. I mean, she must have noticed something off, you know?”

Elle nods slowly in understanding. “She knows about the red anemones, right?”

“Yeah. And she was the one who found the note taped to the door.” You pause, thinking through the evidence again. “Her apartment is right in the middle of the comfort zone.”

“You think she could be the UnSub?”

“It all seems too convenient. But then again, we didn’t profile the stalker as a woman. There have got to be some inaccuracies or things we overlooked because of the gender,” you murmur, stopping at a red light. “Call Garcia for me.”

The phone rings once before Penelope’s unmistakable voice chimes through. “Speak my pretties, and you shall be heard!”

“Hey, Pen, can you check what vehicle is registered under Maggie Lowe’s name?” You ask into the speaker, parking in front of the apartment.

“Checking, checking… aha! It’s a Honda Motorcycle, she just got it serviced six and a half months ago.”

“That’s the vehicle that the UnSub was driving when they shot at us,” you mumble in realisation. “Call the others, the UnSub might be Maggie Lowe. We’re checking the apartment now.”

“Gideon and Derek are at the art gallery to talk to Parker Dunley,” Elle points out. “I’ll let them know we’re at her apartment.”

There’s a typing on the other side of the line and Penelope chimes in once more. “Bad news, my loves. The cameras report Lowe’s motorcycle leaving the apartment complex half an hour ago.”

“Garcia, call Reid and tell him what we know. Elle and I are going into the apartment. We might find evidence or clues on who the next victim might be.”

With that, you hang up, getting out of the car and running up the stairs with Elle hot on your heels.

“Maggie Lowe?” You call through the door, knocking once then twice.

You’re met with silence and you grimace, deciding to do Derek’s favourite move: kicking the door down. With a crash, the door slams open and you grip your gun a little tighter in your hand. Bathroom, clear. Kitchen and pantry, clear. Lounge, clear. Bedroom, clear– you stop short. Pictures– framed pictures– of Lila hung around the wall. A cork board with newspaper clipping and magazine cut outs were pinned meticulously to the cork backing, each one with Lila’s face and name circled with bold red marker.

“Holy shit…” Elle whispers, holstering her gun and staring at the wall. “This is… this is beyond obsession.”

“You’re telling me,” you respond, putting on a blue glove and flipping through the cork board. “Call the others, Maggie is definitely the UnSub. Someone this obsessed must have…” you pause, filing through the desk on the other side of the room, “… a diary. Each murder was described to detail in each entry, as well as her feelings towards Lila.”

Elle grimaces as she looks over your shoulder to read the diary entries. “Grim.”

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Above her desk are images of Lila. Every single show she’s been in since Julliard, every time she was mentioned in an article, posters, newspaper clippings of the murders… the entire ordeal makes you feel sick.

Elle sucks in a breath, staring at the desk. “She’s got Lila’s entire life documented.”

“And she’s probably already at Lila’s house,” you mutter, grabbing your phone. “We need to get over there, now.”

***

“The city of angels everything you thought it would be?” Derek asks amusedly, leaning against the wall of the jet as he watches you pour your third cup of coffee in the past three hours.

It’s a couple days after Maggie Lowe was apprehended and the team were on the jet home getting some much needed rest. The aircon was put on full blast and you couldn’t be more grateful for it, enjoying the coolness on your skin in contrast to the hot Los Angeles weather.

“I’m never coming back here,” you quip, your gaze shifting to where Spencer sits. He’s reading a book but he hasn’t turned a page for the past thirty seconds. “If I were to overthrow America, Los Angeles is the first place to go.”

Derek snorts, his eyebrows raising. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you huff, finally looking at him. “I’m serious!”

“Sure kid. Totally believe you.”

He’s teasing, a knowing smirk on his face as he watches you chug the coffee with a grimace. Your tongue burns and you fill the cup with water and chug that as well, ignoring the amused look Derek keeps sending you. From the corner of your eye you see Spencer reading his book. At least, it would appear that he was reading to someone who didn’t know him. But you know him. He’s been staring into the pages for the past minute now and that alone was enough to let you know that he was paying more attention to your and Derek’s conversation than to the words on the page.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you sit beside Elle who is already fast asleep. You envy her for a moment as she leans against the plane window, blissfully unaware to your mental torment. Stupid Spencer and his stupidly pretty face. From where you’re sitting you can see the back of his head and you glare at that the ridiculous mop of brown on his head.

The rest of the plane ride is uneventful and by the time you make it back to the office it’s already late. It’s nearing one in the morning and everyone begins to head home. Derek is yawning as he leaves the office and Elle has a look that screams ‘Don’t talk to me’. Gideon is long gone and Hotch was in his office, packing up the last of his papers and files.

Spencer is sitting at his desk, combing through the paperwork and stashing a couple pages into his satchel. He bids farewell to Derek and the others before shoving his train pass into his pocket.

“You’re taking the train?” You ask, finally speaking to him.

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he shifts on his feet, gripping the strap of his bag. “Um, yeah. I took the train here, so...”

“Oh.” You nod, glancing at the clock. “No you’re not.”

He huffs out a laugh. “What?”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you get onto a train at one in the morning,” you say, pointing with your chin to the elevator. “You might be a man and all, but it doesn’t change the statistics.”

You know his weakness. Statistics. Facts. Spencer hates the fact that you know him so well.

He relents, getting into the elevator with you. “I thought you were mad at me.”

He hears you scoff, pressing B1 on the elevator. “Just because I’m mad at you, doesn’t mean that I’m going to let you do something potentially dangerous.”

He hates the way your words makes his heart flutter and he continues speak. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you did,” you respond curtly, watching as the elevator doors open. “Come on, my car is that way.”

Spencer flinches at your tone. “I’m sorry.”

You laugh. “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for.”

“I–” the words die on his tongue as he wracks his brain. “I thought it was because you didn’t like Lila.”

“That’s true,” you murmur, unlocking the car. “Look, Reid–”

“Please,” he cuts you off, his voice cracking as he practically begs. “Please stop calling me that.”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to him as you tug the car door open. “You want me to stop calling you by your name?”

Spencer’s nostrils flare as he gets in the car. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

You laugh again as you start the engine, glancing at the mirrors. “Everyone calls you Reid. It shouldn’t be any different for me.”

He huffs. “But it is different. You’re… different.”

“How?” You challenge, backing out of the parking spot and getting onto the main road. You’ve memorised the route from Quantico to Spencer’s apartment in DC– an almost one hour drive and you understand why Spencer hates driving to and from work.

He falters before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just please don’t call me by my last name again.”

“Spencer,” You try again, missing the visible relief in his eyes, “I’m not mad at you because of something as miniscule as a girl. You’re entitled to your own relationships outside of work.”

“I don’t under– oh.” The realisation dawns on him when he recalls all the words you threw at him at the precinct. “I wasn’t a very good friend, was I?”

“No, Spencer, you weren’t.” You don’t hesitate to say it and Spencer winces at how quickly you agree with him. “You were unfair and let your emotions get in the way of the case. You criticised me and undermined my authority and then you had the absolute nerve to act as if nothing was wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” he croaks out, the lump in his throat getting bigger.

“It hurt, Spencer,” you say, and your voice cracks as well. “It hurt because you’re my best friend and I would have supported you through everything. You know that. And I get that friends fight, but I thought that we wouldn’t fight about something as stupid as who you hook up with.”

“I didn’t hook up with her,” Spencer says quietly, and he thinks he might cry. “I’m serious, (Y/N), I didn’t hook up with her. She kissed me–”

“It doesn’t matter.” Your gaze shifts to him for barely a second before it’s back on the road. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter who you’re attracted to. I just didn’t think it would effect our friendship.”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says again, holding onto his bag.

You’re quiet before continuing, “ I know you are. I know that. I’m sorry that you thought that you needed to justify your feelings to me.”

He swallows thickly, watching your face carefully. You didn’t do anything to make him feel like he had to justify himself. If anything, it was Spencer’s conscious that made him feel the need to explain himself. The guilt that he felt after kissing Lila was enough to get him to feel sick. The guilt that he felt after knowing how badly he hurt you was enough to make him want to grovel at your feet.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” He mumbles, wetting his bottom lip. “You had– have– every right to be upset.”

“I don’t want to be upset anymore,” You say as you continue to drive down the freeway.

He’s quiet before he finally says, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

He swallows the lump in his throat and he presses the pads of his fingers into the corner of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

You finally park in front of his apartment, leaning against the chair. “I know. I know, I’m sorry too. I said… a lot of things.”

“I deserved it,” he says, a small laugh leaving his lips as he finally looks at you. “You’re right, I wasn’t being fair.”

You hum, leaning over the console to give him an awkward hug. He presses his nose into your shoulder, breathing in your vanilla perfume. His arms wrap around your middle and he realises how much he missed this. How he missed being close to you.

“I won’t do it again,” he promises.

“I know.”

“I really am sorry.”

“You need to stop apologising.” Your words come out like a laugh and he realises how much he misses that sound too.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says into your shoulder. “Coffees for a month. I’ll even get you those croissants you like, even though they’re really overpriced.”

You laugh again and he smiles.

“You apologising is already good enough,” You say, squeezing his arms. “Now go get some rest, Spence.”

His smile widens at the nickname and he finally pulls away. “Good night. Thank you for driving me home.”

You smile back. “Good night. Don’t mention it.”

The next morning, you find a steaming coffee on your desk and a freshly baked croissant in a brown paper bag. Spencer waves at you and you can’t help the goofy grin on your face as you take a bite into the croissant.

next part →

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #mattew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x reader fluff #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg x reader fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader angst #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader angst

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yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere · 2 years

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Representation matters!-in YA novels/books

-i am, obviously, not able to type ALL here, but the ones i know and love dearly+the ones I think are most important for the readers♥- I WILL KEEP UPDATING THIS WHEN NEEDED♥) +obvi not in any important-order!!

-BUT FIRST BOOKS THAT HELP FIGHT RACISM/EDUCATE/INFORM ABOUT BLACK LIVES:

-White Fragility: Why it’s so hard for white people to talk about Racism by Robin DiAngelo

-Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race by Reni Eddo-Lodge

-The Autobiography of Malcolm X by Malcolm X

-The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin

-The Source of Self-Regard by Toni Morrison

(thank you for this list Dakota Johnson!)

-The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas

-Dreams From My Father by Barack Obama

-Becoming by Michelle Obama

-BOOKS EDUCATING ABOUT CLIMATE CHANGE/CRISIS list:

https://www.goodreads.com/review/list/139102124?shelf=climate-crisis

-BOOKS EDUCATING ABOUT AIDS/HIV list:

https://www.goodreads.com/review/list/139102124?shelf=about-aids-hiv

1. BISEXUAL-BI-REPRESENTATION (as a bi person myself I still think this should be represented more in media everywhere)

-bi boys: Isaac Sullivan (The Devouring Gray + The Deck Of Omens (duology), Jesper Fahey (Six of Crows, Grishaverse), Ness Arroyo / Eduardo Iron (Infinity Cycle Series-Infinity Son + Infinity Reaper + Infinity Kings), Rufus Emeterio (They Both Die At The End), Nathan Allan (I Wish You All The Best), Magnus Bane (The Mortal Instruments/The Shadowhunter Chronicles), Nick Nelson (Heartstopper), Alex Claremont-Diaz (Red, White & Royal Blue), Kit Fairfield (The Pairing), Winter Young(Stars and Smoke & Icon and Inferno), Jonah Collins & Dylan Ramirez (They Hate Each Other), Ash Ashton Taylor (The Law of Inertia), Will Tavares (Only Mostly Devastated), Enrique “Quique” Luna (This Is Why They Hate Us), Adam Parrish (The Raven Cycle Series), Will Solace (Percy Jackson Series), Andy Fleming (We Could Be So Good), Seth (Coffee Boy), Ridley Everlasting (Verona Comics), Mason Kane (The Dark We Know),

-bi girls: Violet Saunders (The Devouring Gray + The Deck Of Omens (duology), Nina Zenik (Six of Crows, Grishaverse), Maribelle Lucero (Infinity Cycle Series- Infinity Son + Infinity Reaper + Infinity Kings), Vivi Duarte(TheCruelPrince-The Folk Of The Air), Imogen Scott (Imogen, Obviously), Cleo Ferrara (The Girl Next Door), Nora Holleran (Red, White & Royal Blue), Lara (Only Mostly Devastated), Jules Lu (The Charm Offensive), Lea Li Zhang (How to Find a Missing Girl), Sutton Spencer (Those Who Wait), Dayana (London on My Mind), August Landry (One Last Stop), Chloe Green (I Kissed Shara Wheeler), Isa Isadora Chang (The Dark We Know),

-bi nonbinary: Theo Flowerday(The Pairing),

BOOKS TO LEARN MORE ABOUT BISEXUAL HISTORY & ACTIVISM: https://www.tumblr.com/ruimtetijd/686000390089621504/list-of-books-about-bi-history-and-activism-from

https://www.goodreads.com/review/list/139102124?shelf=bi-bisexual-characters-done-well

1b. ASEXUAL REPRESENTATION

Ling Chang (The Diviners Series), Tolya Yul-Bataar (Grishaverse-ShadowAndBone), Tori Spring (Heartstopper), Isaac Henderson (Heartstopper), Raphael Santiago (The Mortal Instruments/The Shadowhunter Chronicles),

1c. PANSEXUAL-PAN-REPRESENTATION

Parisa (The Charm Offensive), Iris Blackthorn (How to Find a Missing Girl), Diana (London on My Mind),

2. GAY/ LESBIAN REPRESENTATION

-gay: Wylan Van Eck (Six Of Crows, Grishaverse), Henry DuBois IV (The Diviners Series), Griffin Griff Jennings(History Is All You Left Me), Brendan and Winston (Shatter Me Series), Prince Henry- Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor of Wales(Red White&Royal Blue), Amir Azadi(How It All Blew Up), Charlie Spring (Heartstopper), Orion Pagan(The First To Die At The End), Valentino Prince (The First To Die At The End), Clark Huckleton(If I See You Again Tomorrow), Beau Dupont (If I See You Again Tomorrow), Baz Pitch-Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch (Simon Snow Trilogy), Reynolds ^ Bartholomew Brimsley (Queen Charlotte), James (The Law of Inertia), Ollie-Oliver (Only Mostly Devastated), Ronan Lynch (The Raven Cycle Series), Nico di Angelo (Percy Jackson Series), Emil Rey (Infinity Cycle Series- Infinity Son+ Infinity Reaper as for now), Nick Russo (We Could Be So Good), Mark Bailey (You Should Be So Lucky), Eddie O’Leary (You Should Be So Lucky), Kaleb (Louder Than Words), Kieran (Coffee Boy), Benjy (I Kissed Shara Wheeler), Rory Heron (I Kissed Shara Wheeler), Wes & Isaiah (One Last Stop), Simon Spier ( Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda), Alec Lightwood (The Mortal Instruments/The Shadowhunter Chronicles),

-lesbian: Arriane Alter (Fallen Series), Ling Chang (The Diviners Series), Tamar Kir-Bataar (Grishaverse-ShadowAndBone), Nadia Zhabin (Grishaverse-ShadowAndBone), Darcy Olsson (Heartstopper), Tara Jones (Heartstopper), Charlotte Thompson (Those Who Wait), Jane Su (One Last Stop), Georgia (I Kissed Shara Wheeler), Morgan Matthews (Some Girls Do),

2b. Non-Binary Representation

-Ben Benjamin De Backer (I Wish You All The Best)

-Theo Flowerday (The Pairing)

-Wyatt Fowler (The Feeling Of Falling In Love)

-Gem Echols (Godly Heathens)

-Jude Ricci(Okay, Cupid)

-Ash (I Kissed Shara Wheeler)

+please go read “Gender Euphoria“ by Laura Kate Dale

3. TRANSGENDER PEOPLE REPRESENTATION

- Wyatt Croft (The Witch King)

- Felix Love (Felix Ever After)

- Neil Kearney (The Feeling Of Falling In Love)

- Noah Byrd (The Borrow A Boyfriend Club)

-Enzo Truly (Godly Heathens)

-Gem Echols (Godly Heathens)

-Yadriel (Cemetery Boys)

-Huy Trinh(Okay, Cupid)

-Peter Darling/ Peter Pan (Peter Darling)

-Kieran (Coffee Boy)

-Niko (One Last Stop)

-Aaron (Some Girls Do)

-Otto Vandersteen (The Dark We Know)

-Valentina Castillo (Shatter Me Series)

+please go read “Gender Euphoria“ by Laura Kate Dale

4. ASTHMA REPRESENTATION

- Arthur Penhaligon (The Keys To The Kingdom Series)

4a. DISABLED CHARACTERS REPRESENTATION (AUTISM/OCD/MORE..)

Kaz Brekker & Jesper Fahey & Wylan Van Eck (Grishaverse-Six Of Crows), Genya Safin & David Kostyk(Grishaverse-Shadow And Bone), Ling Chang (The Diviners Series), Harper Carlisle (The Devouring Gray,The Deck Of Omens), Griffin (History Is All You Left Me) (OCD),

-! PLEASE READ Chloe Hayden-Different, Not Less-A Neurodivergent’s Guide to Embracing Your True Self and Finding Your Happily Ever After (especially for Autism/ADHD)

also for AUTISM : Jessie (Something More by Jackie Khalilieh), Harriet Manners (Geek Girl),

4b. EPILEPSY in Literature(Thank you for the list The Cameron Boyce Foundation)

-100 Sideways Miles by Andrew Smith

-The Idiot by Dostoevsky

-The Gentlemen’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee

-Dings by Lance Fogan

-What the Wind Can Tell You by Sarah Marie A.Jette

-Mustaches for Maddie by Chad Morris and Shelly Brown

-When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead

-How Evan Broke His Head and Other Secrets by Garth Stein

-The Thing With Feathers by McCall Hoyle

- The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down by Anne Fadiman

5. DIABETES REPRESENTATION

- Cassie Salazar (Purple Hearts)

6. ADHD REPRESENTATION

- Jesper Fahey (Six Of Crows, Grishaverse)

- Percy Jackson (Percy Jackson and the Olympians Series)

- Alex Claremont-Diaz (Red, White & Royal Blue)

- Theo Flowerday (The Pairing)

- Anne Shirley (Anne Of Green Gables Series)

-! PLEASE READ Chloe Hayden-Different, Not Less-A Neurodivergent’s Guide to Embracing Your True Self and Finding Your Happily Ever After (especially for Autism/ADHD)

+ How to ADHD: An Insider's Guide to Working with Your Brain-Jessica McCabe

7. DYSLEXIA/ DYSGRAPHIA REPRESENTATION

- Wylan Van Eck (Six Of Crows, Grishaverse)

- Percy Jackson (Percy Jackson and the Olympians Series)

- Rory Heron (I Kissed Shara Wheeler),

8. BLACK PEOPLE AS THE LEAD REPRESENTATION

-The Hate U Give- Angie Thomas

-Pride- Ibi Zoboi

-Beau Dupont (If I See You Again Tomorrow)

-Jesper Fahey(Grishaverse-Six Of Crows)

-Memphis Campbell(The Diviners Series)

-Jordyn Jones (Louder Than Words)

-Smith Parker (I Kissed Shara Wheeler)

8b. LATINX MAIN CHARACTERS-REPRESENTATION

Jude & Taryn Duarte (The Folk Of The Air Series starting with The Cruel Prince),

Alex Claremont-Diaz & June Claremont-Diaz (Red, White & Royal Blue),

Lila Reyes ( A Cuban Girl's Guide to Tea and Tomorrow ),

Infinity Son-Infinity Cycle Series, (many!)

This Is Why They Hate Us,

The First to Die at the End,

Rufus Emeterio (They Both Die At The End),

Cemetery Boys

9. THE PROTAGONIST WEARING GLASSES REPRESENTATION

-David Kostyk (Shadow And Bone/Grishaverse)

-Emma Morley (One Day)

-Lewis Barnavelt (Lewis Barnavelt Series)

-Harry Potter (Harry Potter Series)

-Mateo Torrez (They Both Die At The End)

-Elle Argent (Heartstopper)

-Dev Deshpande (The Charm Offensive)

-Mark Bailey (You Should Be So Lucky)

-August Landry (One Last Stop),

-Alex Claremont-Diaz (Red, White & Royal Blue),

10. MUSLIM REPRESENTATION

-A Very Large Expanse Of Sea/AVLEOS-Tahereh Mafi

-An Emotion Of Great Delight/AEOGD-Tahereh Mafi

-All My Rage-Sabaa Tahir

-An Ember In The Ashes Series-Sabaa Tahir

-How It All Blew Up-Arvin Ahmadi

-Other Words for Home-Jasmine Warga

-My Heart and Other Black Holes-Jasmine Warga

11. NARCISSISTIC/ABUSIVE PARENT REPRESENTATION

-Aaron Warner (Shatter Me Series)

-Adam Kent (Shatter Me Series)

-Wylan Van Eck (Six Of Crows, Grishaverse)

-Ness Arroyo / Eduardo Iron (Infinity Cycle Series-Infinity Son + Infinity Reaper + Infinity Kings)

-Evie O’Neill (The Diviners Series)

-Henry DuBois IV (The Diviners Series),

-Maxon Schreave (The Selection Series)

-Cardan Greenbriar (The Folk Of The Air Series)

-Jude Duarte (The Folk Of The Air Series)

-Sydney Sage (VA-Bloodlines)

-Adrian Ivashkov (Va-Bloodlines)

-Prince Kamran of Ardunia (This Woven Kingdom Series)

-James & Lydia Beaufort (Maxton Hall Trilogy, Save Me Series)

-Winter Young(Stars and Smoke & Icon and Inferno),

-Ridley Everlasting (Verona Comics),

+The Thief Lord-Cornelia Funke

+The Dark We Know-Wen-yi Lee

12. VEGAN REPRESENTATION

-Luce Lucinda Price (Fallen Series)

-Emil Rey (Infinity Cycle Series- Infinity Son+ Infinity Reaper + Infinity Kings)

-Bea (The Law of Inertia),

13. JEWISH PEOPLE REPRESENTATION

-Sam Lloyd/Sergei Lubovitch (The Diviners Series)

-Mabel Rose (The Diviners Series)

-Nora Holleran (Red, White & Royal Blue),

-Just One Day-Year-Night series by Gayle Forman

14. ASIAN PEOPLE REPRESENTATION

-Only a Monster by Vanessa Len

-The Diviners Series-Libba Bray

-James (The Law of Inertia),

-Kira-Kira-Cynthia Kadohata

-Memoirs of a Geisha-Arthur Golden

-The Dark We Know-Wen-yi Lee

15. LOSS/ GRIEF REPRESENTATION

-The Devouring Gray Duology-Christine Lynn Herman

-History Is All You Left Me + Infinity Cycle Series-Adam Silvera

-An Emotion of Great Delight-Tahereh Mafi

-The Diviners Series-Libba Bray

-Grishaverse-Leigh Bardugo

-Red, White & Royal Blue- Casey McQuiston

-The Pairing- Casey McQuiston

-The Shadow Of The Wind- C R Zafón

-They Both Die At The End + The First To Die At The End-Adam Silvera

-This Woven Kingdom Series- Tahereh Mafi

-One Day-David Nicholls

-Artemis Fowl Series-Eoin Colfer

-Airman-Eoin Colfer

-Fallen Series-Lauren Kate

-Anne Of Green Gables Series- Lucy M Montgomery

-Stars and Smoke & Icon and Inferno-Marie Lu

-London on My Mind-Clara Alves

-You Should Be So Lucky-Cat Sebastian

-Kira-Kira-Cynthia Kadohata

-As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow-Zoulfa Katouh

-The Dark We Know-Wen-yi Lee

15b. BAD MENTAL HEALTH/ DEPRESSION/ SUICIDAL THOUGHTS/SELF-HARM

-Shatter Me Series- Tahereh Mafi

-The Diviners Series-Libba Bray

-History Is All You Left Me-Adam Silvera

-They Both Die At The End + The First To Die At The End-Adam Silvera

-Infinity Son (and the rest of the Infinity Cycle Series)- Adam Silvera

-Grishaverse-Leigh Bardugo

-Red, White & Royal Blue- Casey McQuiston

-One Day- David Nicholls

-The Devouring Gray Duology-Christine Lynn Herman

-Vampire Academy & Bloodlines Series-Richelle Mead

-Unforgiven-Lauren Kate(From Fallen Series) WHOLE Fallen Series actually!

-An Emotion of Great Delight-Tahereh Mafi

-My Heart and Other Black Holes-Jasmine Warga

-The Law of Inertia-Sophie Gonzales

-Verona Comics-Jennifer Dugan

-Anne Of Green Gables Series-L M Montgomery

-Anna Karenina-Leo Tolstoy

-The Dark We Know-Wen-yi Lee

16. WRITERS/AUTHORS REPRESENTATION

-Anne Shirley (Anne Of Green Gables Series)

-Daniel Sempere (The Shadow Of The Wind-The Cemetery Of Forgotten Books Series)

-Julian Carax (The Shadow Of The Wind)

-Emma Morley (One Day)

-David Martin (The Angel’s Game-The Cemetery Of Forgotten Books Series)

-Memphis Campbell (The Diviners Series)

-Orion Pagan (The First To Die At The End)

-Prince Henry- Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor of Wales(Red White&Royal Blue)

17. FRIENDSHIP/ FOUND-FAMILY REPRESENTATION

-Shatter Me Series- Tahereh Mafi

-The Diviners Series-Libba Bray

-The Folk Of The Air Series-Holly Black

-Infinity Son (and the rest of the Infinity Cycle Series)- Adam Silvera

-GRISHAVERSE-Leigh Bardugo

-Artemis Fowl Series-Eoin Colfer

-Airman-Eoin Colfer

-Red, White & Royal Blue- Casey McQuiston

-The Devouring Gray Duology-Christine Lynn Herman

-Vampire Academy & Bloodlines Series-Richelle Mead

-Fallen Series- Lauren Kate

-The Thief Lord-Cornelia Funke

-The Keys To The Kingdom Series-Garth Nix

-The Supernaturalist-Eoin Colfer

-One Last Stop- Casey McQuiston

-I Kissed Shara Wheeler- Casey McQuiston

-I Wish You All The Best-Mason Deaver

-Anne Of Green Gables Series- Lucy M Montgomery

-The Outsiders- S. E. Hinton

-Just One Day & Year & Night-Gayle Forman

-The Midnight Palace- C. R. Zafón

-The Dark We Know-Wen-yi Lee

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mcdonaldsnumberone · 3 years

Text

pocky

pocky day headcanons! also west country cuz i want taku dead

gender neutral reader

Rituals of love are always such a funny thing to Shylock. Never has he stopped loving the world for a moment, always looking towards the next joy in his life whenever Fate had nothing but despair for him, so seeing the way humans come up with all sorts of small activities to keep the sadness at bay reminds him that behind every seemingly frivolous moment lies a deep longing for love that goes beyond his own understanding. That’s why he grows to almost revere moments like that, smiling to himself as he watches couples all around him giggling and enjoying the sweet treats while he settles in for another quiet evening in his bar.

Maybe that’s why he’s so open to the idea when you swing around, a box of Pocky in your hands. His crimson eyes simmer with the same color of sweet potpourri spreading through the room, drawing you in like a siren’s song. He accepts your invitation with the sultriest voice you’ve ever heard, as if he’s trying to melt the chocolate off of the biscuit itself. He might as well have made you melt instead from the way his long slender fingers picked up the treat. His lips parted slightly, almost as if he would lean in to kiss you, before slipping one end of the Pocky between his teeth and offering you the other end.

He nibbles peacefully and almost expertly at the treat, carefully closing the gap between the two of you. There’s something satisfying to him about watching you go from being so confident about winning the game to your expression slowly changing as your faces inch closer and closer. You’re so precious, with your wide eyes trembling as you debate between breaking the fragile Pocky and risking another bite, rendering you closer to the man who’s captured your heart, closer to the man who’s a mere breath away from you, closer to the man who sits there, waiting for your next action.

Shylock closes his eyes, not sure whether to expect the tremor of the biscuit breaking or the sensation of your lips on his. His answer comes soon, when you exhale over his skin and close the tantalizing space between the two of you. He tastes like something deep, like sweet chocolate and bitter wine, like the space that fills the universe and encapsulates the moon in a passionate tango. His hands are immediately by your face, cupping the outline of your jaw and ghosting all over your skin, his lips moving against yours as if he’s whispering a million words of love that you’ll never fully translate. But that’s the magic of a kiss on Pocky Day, taking something so common and turning it into something so beautiful for the two of you to share in private.

When the two of you pull away after what seems like a lifetime, Shylock can’t help but gaze at the dazed expression on your face for a bit. You look so stunned yet so happy, the sloppy grin on your face betraying the haughty confidence from earlier. Well, the bartender already knew from the start what you were hoping to gain from this; it never hurt to go along with that fleeting play of yours. Besides, things like Pocky taste so much sweeter when it’s delivered from the lips of the one person he loves more than he loves love itself, and he’s sure to laugh to himself when he notices you eagerly ripping another biscuit from the shiny packaging.

“My, asking me to play the Pocky Game with you? Is a kiss what you desire from me? If so, you could have simply asked… Who am I to deny you such sweet trysts of love?”

Love of anyone else save for the moon is but a secondary thought to someone like Murr. He must seem like a lunatic to everyone else, hopelessly pining after a figure in the sky that would squash him like it did the countless lives wasted away in facing off one calamity after another. But you—alongside everyone else who has met Murr—know that the fickle magician continues to pursue the moon even after having his own soul shattered, love beyond logic or reason is simply what defines Murr at his best and worst. That stubbornness and delusionally romantic dedication is what makes your heart yearn for him so much more: a devastating parallel to the bond that Murr chases after with the moon.

All this to say, Murr’s the one to suggest playing the Pocky Game with you. The game is right up his alley: there’s a million different ways the tomfoolery could end, and each one is just as thrilling as the last! It gives him the same rush that he gets out of gambling. Will he choose to continue taking the precarious line of nibbling at the biscuit and grow dangerously close to kissing you? Or will he break it away, the crumbs falling like the shards of his soul by his feet? Hell, maybe you might be the one to break it first, the pressure going to your head rather than his. The outcomes are enough to make his mischievous eyes sparkle with a devilish delight, so won’t you be a dear and play along with his desires?

He doesn’t miss a single detail on your face. The subtle tremble of your eyelids, the way your breath escapes your parted lips, the curve of your cheeks, every part of you displayed right before him. The treat is but an afterthought to him in the moment, his turquoise eyes never wavering from your as he inches closer and closer to you. His heart is racing so fast that it feels like it might jump out of his chest and start dancing around, and he’s sure that the thrill you’re feeling—that compels you to keep chewing on your end—must be the same dramatic edge that keeps him entranced to you. And before either of you know it, there’s only so much of the Pocky left.

Before you can say anything, Murr jerks his head back and snaps it violently. You recoil instinctively, blinking rapidly and whipping your head back at him as if to scold him, but Murr gives one triumphant laugh before swooping in to press his lips against yours. Any complaint you had bubbling up inside of you is immediately drowned out at the sensation of his mouth moving against yours, his greedy hands flying to your shoulders to pull you close to his chest. That’s your cue to melt into the dreamy gesture, your own hands snaking around his slender waist as if it were the most natural thing for you to do at that moment.

His eyes shine with the same splendor that gemstones do when the two of you finally part from one another. Murr sticks his tongue out at you and grins, completely ignoring the way you punch his arm and tell him that he played the game wrong. It doesn’t matter, does it? You wanted a kiss, and he gave you one. He’d much rather mess around with you like this; the exasperation in your voice is too cute for him to pass up, and besides, aren’t unexpected touches like this one the best way to cement them into your memories? Murr wants to remember these happy moments, like sugar dissolving on the tip of his tongue, before everything fades back to the same rock and stone of the moon and mana stones that he chases perpetually.

“Did you like it? That was fun, wasn’t it? Don’t look so mad, there’s lots of Pocky still left in the box! That means there’s a lot more kisses still left for me to give you!”

Love is so fleeting, so magical to Rustica. Some days he wants to dance with the world, declaring boldly his own fondness for everything good in it, and other days, he prefers to quietly soak in the serendipity of his warm sheets and welcoming sunlight, wordlessly opening his heart. That’s the kind of person Rustica is: a bit nonsensical and a bit idealistic but someone who’s willing to pour as much love as he can into the world, even if that world might not be so willing to return that same love. But Rustica knows that love is not a quantitative thing, so as long as he can feel the comforting cadence of love in his chest and a reason to look forward to tomorrow, he doesn’t mind loving the world one-sidedly.

He accepts your invitation to the Pocky Game in a stride, like he would as if you offered him snacks for tea time. If such a lovely game exists for couples, who is he to deny it? His entire worldview is about love, and a kiss game like this is right up his alley. He’ll even do you the honors of brewing some accompanying tea with the pocky, delighting your senses with the fine image of him standing by a picturesque tea table with decorated cups in hand, ready to serve you up a delectable drink. The calming scent of herbs hits your nose, and you can’t help but smile to yourself as you observe Rustica sipping his own tea across from you, his rosy lips curving alongside the graceful rim of the porcelain teacup.

It takes a few tries to get the point of the Pocky Game across to him and even more tries to actually get it into action. No matter how many times the pocky snaps or you fumble, Rustica laughs good-naturedly and helps you pick up the pieces. He believes it’s all part of the fun, and he even mentions how refreshingly acoustic the snaps of the pocky are. Perhaps after the two of you have finished playing the game, he’ll whisk you away to where his piano is to compose a song based off of the sound, and if it turns out to your liking, he’ll even invite the other wizards to partake in the newly composed song and ask you to dance along to it hand-in-hand.

The wind rustles in a gentle breeze, and you can’t help but notice how some of the scattered flower petals on the ground have begun ballooning up in a waltz with the wind. There’s a distant fondness in Rustica’s eyes, the blue color reminiscent of a nostalgic azure sky from a memory long gone. Beneath the well-mannered politeness of this eccentric wizard, you can taste the desperate longing for his bride as you bite closer to him, and when it comes for his final approach, the way he reaches out to you is the way an ardent bridegroom reaches for his bride when they walk up to him at the altar: the fervent need in his fingertips transferred across your skin in a blur of heartache, hope, and the love he promises to indulge his bride with.

He doesn’t let you go for a long time. After the kiss, he presses his forehead against yours and cups your face in his gloved hands, the beautifully pained look in his eyes the most exquisite trap you had ever seen before. There’s no denying that Rustica’s want for love is a tour-de-force that nothing in the world can truly encapsulate, but it resonates so deeply in your soul that for a moment, you see the image flutter against the inside of your mind. The delicate curve of a shining arch, the sunlight streaming in against translucent curtains, Rustica cooing at you in a way only a lover would: to you, inside of his little birdcage.

“You taste so sweet, my dearest lark. I wonder why that would be. Would you entertain this foolish thought of mine, and kiss me once more?”

It makes Chloe so happy to be out and about. Every day is a new adventure for him, whether it be trying to curb the eccentricities of his fellow Western wizards or trying new things with his friends in the Sage’s Wizards. Chloe does his best to put his best foot forward: just like how “clothes maketh the man”, attitudes make the wizard. Especially on a day like Pocky Day, where he sees so many couples in all their finery going out on dates and playfully messing around with their sweet games. Chloe’s heart is filled with joy at such a sight, and he makes a very careful mental note to preserve this feeling for when he can go back in his studio and craft gorgeous outfits inspired by the happiness that soars through him.

Chloe finds himself trailing after you, torn between wanting to work up the courage to ask you to play the Pocky Game with him versus not wanting to bother you with something that seems so silly. He knows that you have a high opinion of him, and he doesn’t want you to think that he’s childish for wanting this. But he remembers that you would never think badly of him for something as innocent as a game for couples on a day for couples, so Chloe takes a deep breath to calm his beating heart and shyly asks you to play with him, his cheeks as equally as pink as the plaid jacket he always wears. And of course, you’re quick to accept his proposal.

Chloe’s awfully nervous about the whole deal, but he’s determined to get it just right! Despite his nerves, as a tailor, he’s great at keeping himself under control, so no matter how brightly he’s blushing, he’ll do everything he can to get to the center of the treat. It’s adorable to see how much his eyes are focused on getting closer to you, his mouth slowly inching closer to yours. As the distance on the pocky lessens, his heart pounds even more wildly, his mind frenzied with the thought that he might actually succeed in kissing you like this.

You’re the one to kiss him first, practically launching yourself on top of him. You wrap your arms tightly around his neck, capturing him in a deep kiss. Chloe’s hands fly to hold you, holding you so tightly as if you would run away if he loosened his grip and letting his eyes flutter shut with a dreamy sigh, fully enjoying the warmth of your mouth on his. All of his nerves from earlier are but an afterthought now, too enchanted by the love that entangles both of you like golden thread, caught within limbs and soft lips and thundering hearts. Everything about kissing him is lovely, like a dream you don’t want to wake up from, and the way both of you practically fumble to snap more pocky out afterwards draws a hearty laugh.

Eventually the two of you give up on the pocky and go straight to kissing. Chloe’s adorable—giggling breathlessly in your arms while the two of you occupy a quiet corridor to press kisses all over each others’ faces. His kisses are like a butterfly’s delicate wings against your skin, and all you can do is melt into his touch and return every single kiss with one your own. It’s only when another wizard walks in on the two of you that you two jump apart, both of you stuttering out a bashful apology before running away to his studio to pick up right where you left off. Your happy place is in his arms, being pampered with his attention, and your purpose is to shower him with as much love as you can, encouraging him to be the most adoring version of himself he can be.

“Ah… Did you like that? I-I liked it a lot… You wouldn’t mind if we kept going, right? I want to kiss you, over and over, so I can remember exactly what it feels like.”

#mahoutsukai no yakusoku #mahoyaku #mhyk #shylock bennett #murr hart #rustica ferucci #chloe collins #x reader #my writing #why do i always like . write so well and then turn fucking insane when i write for rustica #this was so supposed to be cute pocky day headcanons where did i go WRONG #also my ass did not pace myself well in writing this LOL #i wrote so much for each chara like . i was fighting demons w my fatigue towards the end #pls i promise i can write like . in a not-fucked-up way i just need someone to hit me with a rock #its abt drive its abt power we stay hungry we devour put in the work put in the hours and take whats ours (AWOOO)

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stusbunker · 6 years

Text

Known: Hunters

A Supernatural Dark Fan-fiction

Featuring: Dean Winchester x Female OC, Dean Winchester x Demon!Reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: With respect to my readers’ devotion to the show and its story lines, I have included dates relevant to air dates for reference points. I try not to repeat information you already know, but please ask if something doesn’t make sense! xoxo Stu

Warnings: Physical and Emotional Torture, captivity, blood, demons, Hell, Leviathans, show level violence, Slow Burn. More warnings to come. Each chapter will have its own warnings.

Earth Date: November 7, 2011

Location: Rock Port, Missouri

There were things she had seen that could make a military general shit his tighty whities, but never had Chloe Collins seen the unparalleled shift from one being into another. Werewolves, Skin-Walkers and Shifters, none phased that seamlessly. The man took one look at Reynolds, a burly backroad hunter, and instantly took him down with a sleeper hold. And then he WAS Reynolds: voice, gait, everything a complete replica.

“Ah, come on CC, you know he’d been dying for a taste,” the thing looked down at her partner on the case and stepped pointedly on to his neck. “I guess he died for me to have a taste.” Her stomach lurched as it approached her.

Things started falling into place in the panicked walls of her mind. The weird economic booms, the smarmy politicians and their inspirational press conferences. The fact that civilians kept getting dumber by the day. These things were behind it, she wasn’t sure how or why, but there were too many coincidences to ignore it now. Chloe braced herself to square off with an attacker that had half of a foot and fifty pounds on her.

‘Another fucking Apocalypse’, she internally cursed. The unnamed beast reeled back, and its neck opened to reveal rows of teeth and a putrid tongue. Chloe stabbed with all her strength, her signature ceremonial dagger sank into its chest. It swung back, unaffected by the wound. She jumped back, trying to shake off the blow to her head, the one-of-a-kind weapon lodged in the beast’s torso. As she grabbed for the pistol in the waistband of her jeans, deep voices called for her to duck. Surprisingly, she listened, leaving the vision of Sam Winchester a clear shot to douse her attacker with a healthy cascade of industrial cleaner before Dean removed its head.

She had died, this was it. She died with the idiotic hope of a rescue; her memories threw some unexpected pair to her thoughts as her brain started to short circuit. CC closed her eyes and smirked at the way phantom-memory Dean’s lips had curled as he sliced through that black-oozing-shifter with a solid machete stroke. ‘Yeah, at least I wasn’t the only one who went down swinging,’ CC thought as she fell unconscious.

The familiar weight of an old quilt pinned her to the bed. A musty pillow case cooled her cheek as she rolled over, ignoring the world around her until the last moments of her consciousness slammed into focus. Chloe sat up, scrambling for her dagger and her gun. They were waiting for her, cleaned and within arm’s reach on the nightstand. The worn wooden floor led to a large open cabin where her rescuers were casually watching soap operas. It was all too neat and so glaringly wrong at the same time.

The super-shifters had been throwing the Winchesters under the bus for the most public and absurd crimes. They wouldn’t keep her alive, unless they needed her. She tried to justify their use of dead hunters’ faces for their vendetta, but it only resumed the throbbing in her skull. She fell back on the bed, the old mattress bouncing enough to draw the well-trained ears of the man-shaped beasts across the room. She had her weapons in her hands and perched on her knees as Sam stood to approach her.

He raised his massive hands in surrender, “CC, hey, it’s okay. It’s us.”

“Sure, it’s you,” she snarled. “Weird place for a couple of mass murders to be hiding out. Whose place is this? Why are you wearing my friends?”

“Chloe,” Dean’s deep voice caused her to blink, his hands mirrored Sam’s. The concern and honesty defying her fighter’s instincts. “Come on, sweetheart. We’re not Leviathan. Those sonofabitches are really bad for business,” his voice trailed off to Sam, who only shrugged.

Dean stepped closer and she cocked the hammer. “Why would we gift wrap your weapons if we were monsters?”

“Obviously they don’t do much to you, but all I need is to slow you down.” She threw her knife square at Sam’s chest, he barely spun in time, as Dean charged her gun hand. He shoved her hand up. CC got one shot off through the ceiling before Dean fell hard against her atop the bed, wrenching her arm back forcing her to finally drop the weapon.

“It’s us, CC, I swear. Let us show you, please?” Dean’s voice was tired, the last word said on a whisper. Sam stood back, playing with her knife between his long fingers, admiring the runes. His brow was pinched and his chin out, not sure what to say to make her see them in a better light. She nodded, frustration and confusion winning over their insistence.

The man rolled off her, letting her hold her weapon as they talked. Her eyes kept moving, checking the windows and furniture for quick escapes. Something she couldn’t shake was how he even smelled like Dean. They dosed themselves with her Holy Water, salted each other and even cut themselves with both the silver and iron edges of her treasured blade. Their final test was new, they assured her that it was for them, the Leviathan, and nothing happened once Sam and then Dean sprinkled a type of detergent over their opposite hands.

“Okay?” Sam offered, his big puppy dog eyes waiting for her to process it all. She shrugged, holding her gun over the pillow clutched to her chest.

“To answer your question, this was one of Rufus’ safehouses. Bobby brought us here once and when we had to go deep cover--” Dean leaned with his elbows on his knees, trying to remember the last time he had seen her. The past few years had been such a whirlwind, he had barely kept his head up for air.

“Wait, Chloe, let’s say we’re not Sam and Dean, or at least the Sam and Dean you know—”

“Sammy?” Dean’s groaned, rubbing his eyebrows.

“No, Dean, listen. Chloe, why is it so hard for you to believe us?”

She looked at Sam through squinted eyes, his soft tone just like the one he would use on victims’ families. Wary, yet not as distrustful as the first few minutes of their conversation, “because the Sam and Dean I know, are dead. They died stopping Lucifer and the Angels from frying the planet.”

That got their attention, Dean and Sam shared a look, Sam’s eyes brightening with the turn of events.

“Who told you that?” Dean’s voice was brass, obvious with disbelief.

“Bobby Singer.” Chloe spat, her head rolling a little with her certainty. Dean laughed, while Sam paused, but thought it out. She continued, “he said Sam had taken Michael and the Devil to hell himself and Dean—”

“And Dean what?” Sam drew a chair from the breakfast table and sat backwards on it, listening intently.

“was gone,” she finished on a rattled breath.

The brothers shared another look, while the woman stared at them, really and truly taking them in. They had aged, Sam was leaner, Dean’s eyes more lined. Monsters would have taken them as they were, not able to replicate something as unique and unpredictable as human mortality. “Well, it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth, sweetheart.”

“I was in Hell, but got brought back,” Sam started, letting it sink in.

“And I left hunting, or tried to, had a bit of a domestic hiatus, you could say.” Dean shrugged, the softness of his smile warming the thick block of ice that had settled in her stomach.

“But, why didn’t Bobby tell me?” Chloe countered, trying to out logic their explanations.

“Bobby kind of has a soft spot for us, I think he wanted Dean to have a normal life and, well, I spent a year without a soul. He was protecting his own.” Sam offered, an apologetic grimace on his face.

“Yeah, let’s just be grateful you didn’t meet that Sam. Him, you wouldn’t have believed.” Dean muttered, getting up with a soft pat on CC’s knee. He went to the fridge for a beer.

“Dude!” Sam chastised him. “What is it 10 a.m.?”

“You want one?” Dean offered to Chloe, ignoring his brother’s judgement.

“Got anything stronger?”

“You know it.”

Earth Date: January 13, 2012

Location: Hell, A Never-Ending Hallway

This was worse because it was all an illusion. There was no end in sight, just enough progress to keep that minuscule drop of hope alive. You had to hand it to the king, this was a much more effective and hands-free form of torture. You patrolled the corridor, eyeing the prisoners, souls in every hue and stage of damnation. Your scaled flesh caused many to shudder as you approached; showing your true form was cathartic now. The years as one of the tortured long behind you as you suffered alongside the helpless masses as one of the enforcers.

It was still Hell, but it had grown on you.

Earth Date: August 20, 2012

Location: Odell, Oregon

The call rang on until the clipped voicemail message greeted Chloe, again. She angrily ended the call, biting back the curses at the stubborn man. If the phone had been ditched, it would have gone to voicemail instantly, or to an outdated disconnected message. No, Sam had kept his phone charged and on, he was just choosing to ignore her calls. They had never been close, but his blatant disregard ruffled her sense of mutual respect held amongst hunters. He needed a good head smack. Among other things.

What would Dean say about his little brother’s lack of manners? God only knows, Chloe thought as the familiar clutch of grief writhed within her chest.

Earth Date: February 25, 2013

Location: Lebanon, Kansas

“No.”

“Please? Just close your eyes, it’s a surprise.” Dean’s eyes widened, looking like a hopeful third-grader instead of a middle-aged scruff covered hunter. Chloe crossed her arms and shook her head. “Just turn off the huntress-ness, for like three seconds. Help a guy out here?”

“You’re not as cute as you think you are,” she muttered, closing her eyes dramatically as Dean rushed to slip the ornate key into the large metal door. She held out her hand and cleared her throat, expectantly. Sam chuckled beside her and she elbowed him. A warm calloused hand took hers, while the other gathered her at the small of her back.

“Alright, CC, welcome to our new place,” Dean, both proud and excited. She gaped, her mouth open in genuine shock. She looked at Sam, who seemed sick as a dog and then back to Dean who was grinning like a fool. Sam just shook his head, his hair fluttering as the door closed behind him.

“Ready for that tour?”

“Why are you even on this side of the country?” Sam asked as they waited for Dean to bring out their plates. He had insisted on playing host, another surprise for Chloe or just general hospitality from a man who had never had a permanent home? It was quite the coin toss.

“Honestly?” Chloe sighed, resting her feet on the chair next to her at the library table. “A cryptic message from Garth and boredom. Been trying to stay off the ol’ Angel radar, because, no thanks.”

Sam nodded, holding up his hands half in a shrug, half in dismay, “Yeah, tell me about it. Unfortunately, we don’t have that sort of luck.”

“Or good sense,” she added, giving Sam her questioning eyebrow.

“Fair enough. But, uh, you look good, everything going okay otherwise?” Sam cleared his throat, changing the subject from the Winchesters’ poor life choices. Chloe let it slide, ignoring the compliment and sidestep with a generous swig of her beer. She nodded, but before she could reply an exuberant Dean burst from the kitchen with two plates overflowing with homemade potato wedges and bacon cheeseburgers.

“Oh, he cooks too? I’ll take three, please,” she cooed underneath her breath, knowing full well Sam heard her. They ate quickly with large gulps surrounded by appreciative groans. The burgers were mouthwatering, and the fries seasoned to perfection. As Chloe played with the last of the ketchup on her plate, the boys debated their next move. Lots of big talk about Gates of Hell and Trials, she got the distinct impression that Dean was not so pleased with Sam bearing the brunt of the upcoming uncertainty. The Winchesters had always been on a higher echelon of hunters than CC or even most she had ever worked with. But this was big, after everything they had already done, she wondered if their mission had become another crusade. Perhaps that drive is what made them great, perhaps it is what cost them a majority of their friends and all of their family.

It was most definitely the thing that drew her to them since they saved her from that Leviathan. And it was the second most terrifying thing about them that left her questioning her sanity.

Earth Date: March 30, 2013 (Just before the episode Taxi Driver)

Location: Hell, Outside Bobby Singer’s cell

“You’re certain?” You asked the guard in a demonic dialect before peeking through the decorative metal inlay of the unlocked door, having grown over the years, your height allowed you easy access to loom around the bend.

“Everyday. They send someone in with a glamor to confuse the old coot. It’s always one of two brothers. Sam Winchester,” the growl in her voice broke off into a purr. There was still much trepidation over the true vessel of Lucifer, even demons had their kinks. “Or Dean.”

A name that had been barely a rumor over the last centuries, especially the years since the fall of Lucifer’s acolytes Azazel and Lilith and the rise of Crowley. Yet a name you would never forget. The king was a known consort of all manner of beings, from heaven to the scum of humanity. But to have a version of Dean Winchester in Hell where you could see him again? The prospect was overwhelming, even if it was a torment-intended simulation. You hurried back down the row of high priority souls, prisoners that had been won or stolen from Heaven. Souls that had done the most damage to the armies of Hell during their living years. Their pain resonated through the stone walls, sickly sweet.

Over the following months you left your patrols earlier and earlier, escaping to the dungeon that housed the humanly mentor of the man that had irreparably changed you. And each day you watched the various exchanges, smooth and cavalier Dean attempting to rescue Bobby Singer, desperate demonic Dean thirsty to spill the old man’s blood or broken and sobbing Dean begging Bobby to end him. If you weren’t so biased, the Sam illusions would have been equally as moving, Demon-blood strengthened Sam claiming he had found his true family, a preteen Sam begging Bobby to teach him how to shoot only to have his eyes darken and turn on his teacher or a Red-Eyed Sam, a poor rendition of Lucifer, but effective against the soft insides of their paternal figure.

You learned much in your time watching the torture of Robert Singer. He was an impressive soul, even after decades of torture he routinely told the imposters to stick it where the sun didn’t shine. Like any parent, he had a favorite, no matter how he tried to hide it. He preferred Dean, but that was because he saw his own emotional vulnerability in the young hunter. Sam was more like John, with whom Bobby routinely butted heads. His love ran deep, no matter who was favored or understood best. Which was why it was so easy to maintain the doubleganger inflicted agony. And your misery loved their company.

One evening, having missed a turn due to overly flustered messenger demons, you were later than normal to escape your duties and relish in the vision of Dean. The King was not pleased and therefore everyone worked to keep their heads down, patrols were increased, any charge was overly-minded. When you rounded the corner, one of the Sam Winchester doubles was barking at the soul of Bobby Singer and another was screaming that the other was not real. Well this was a twist, but then you saw them, bodies of your fallen brethren zapped from their human meatsuits. It was the real Sam Winchester, as you watched the hunter and the old man run away, you stood frozen. There was no way to salvage this without going toe-to-toe with Lucifer’s vessel who was also the only being Dean would do anything for. You let them go, hiding in the shadows, knowing there was something brewing above.

With the loss of your daily reminder of him from Bobby’s enforcers, your hunger for Dean only intensified.

tags: @dontshootmespence @because-imma-lady-assface @mrswhozeewhatsis @smi727 @sassykayla255 @dxr-supernatural-fanfic @supernaturalboi @dumbthotticus @eve05glee @veroinnumera @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @forgettingthoughts @shokushuhime-stuff @fanfictionrecommendations-com @soullesscollection-world @igotdressedthroughthemess @thoughtslikeaminefield

Next Chapter: Topside Turvy

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spookydrreid · 3 years

Text

Friends Without Benefits

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: falling in love with your best friend (when you weren’t supposed to) can be quite a bitch.

Category: SMUT (MINORS DNI)

Content warnings: friends with benefits, talks of being in love, kissing, oral sex (fem! Receiving), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, creampie. (Let me know if i missed anything.)

Word count: 2.1k

Based off the song “Friends Without Benefits” By Chloe Collins

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…

He should’ve known I would be awake, Spencer knew I liked the silent darkness night brought me. I did my best work between midnight and 3 am. So when his text came in, letting me know the team would be landing in an hour, I replied almost embarrassingly quickly.

I was out the door and into the frigid, January cold even faster. When I was awake, I would always go get him. It was a little tradition Spencer and I started after his first really rough case. At that time, we just drove around until his mind quieted, sometimes getting shitty pizza and eating in the car.

But now… we were doing a little more than that.

I let my mind wander as I drove to the airstrip. It wasn’t far from my apartment and it was on the way to his, so picking him up was no big deal. I knew exactly what would be happening once he got in my car. We played coy in front of his teammates, claiming to be just friends. But we were a little more than that.

Friends with benefits was my idea, something I proposed when pizza and long car rides stoped working for Spencer. We’d been friends since college, me getting a bachelors in engineering, and him working on his third PhD. We were so alike it was almost scary.

I loved our little arrangement. It started with only after cases, then once a week, and now I’m only ever sleeping by myself when he’s away on cases. And between times when I see him, my phone never leaves my hands in case he needs me.

But we are not dating.

I want to make that explicitly clear. Spencer and I are friends with benefits and that’s it. We agreed when all this started that we wouldn’t fall in love with each other.

Unfortunately, this was something I was failing at… miserably.

I didn’t understand how anyone couldn’t fall in love with Spencer. He was everything you could ever imagine. Like if I could build the perfect man, it would be everything Spencer is. Smart, kind, funny, understanding, compassionate, romant-

“Jesus fuck, it’s cold out there!” The shutting of the car door brings me back to the present. And the man sitting in my front seat, cranking the heat.

I cant help but grin at his vulgar language, something he uses more often than people seem to think. “My car says its 10 degrees outside. Which is warmer than it was last night!” My heart races as I look over at him, taking him in. He was so fucking beautiful and it killed me to know we were only friends. But I tried to keep love and sadness out of my eyes because then he would know and everything would be ruined.

“Did you sleep at your apartment last night?” Oh yeah, then theres that. The little tiny fact that I practically lived at his place. Like I said, when he was home, it was rare I ever slept alone. And even sometimes when he was gone I would ‘house sit’ and just sleep in his bed.

I nod, “I did. It was freezing without you.”

He grins and hums, “you always say I’m the best heat source around.” Because he was. Spencer was scrawny but he threw off more heat than my heated blanket, most nights forcing us to sleep with the windows open.

“Pizza or home?” I asked. It was nearly 2 am but there was a little place near his apartment that always had the most amazing slices.

I watch him think it over for a minute before turning and doing to me what I did to him, take me in. “Home… its been a while and I miss you.”

I felt my heart jump into my throat at his confession. But I swallowed it down and reminded myself that he more than likely didn’t mean it like that. He probably just missed the sex and the slight companionship I brought to him. He always said, even when we were in college, I was one of the few people that made him calm. And after college I became the only person.

I nod and put the car in drive, waving to his teammates who eye us suspiciously. I knew they knew my feelings and I prayed that they never told him. “I missed you too, Spence. Work just isn’t the same without you breathing down my neck to check my work.”

He laughs and my heart is back in my throat. Its one of the most beautiful noises I’ve ever heard in my entire life. Like a favorite song that I wish I could replay over and over again. “Because sometimes you make silly mistakes and the last thing we need is NASA getting mad at you! Cannot have that.”

“I am too valuable to NASA for them to fire me.” I grin and roll my eyes at him.

“Mmhm sure, sure.”

The closer I get to Spencers apartment, the more the tension rises. By the time I park in my usual spot, I’m squeezing my thighs together to try to relieve some pressure forming between them. And we barely make it in the door before his lips are on mine.

It’s 2 am and its dark, but it didn’t matter. It was a route that we’d taken so many times before, I knew it well. We rip off clothes as we walk, only breaking the kiss to take off our shirts. The trail of our clothes leading into his bedroom.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as his lips trail over my jaw and down my neck, leaving little love bites in their wake.

I let myself relish in the compliment; falling into the little fantasy that maybe he could see me the way I saw him. I craved his affection and if this was the only way I could have it, I’d do it forever.

My hands creep into his hair, twisting into his curls and bringing his face up mine for another kiss. He tasted like cinnamon and Spencer, two of my most favorite things. He was intoxicating and I wanted to be high on him forever.

“Someone missed me?” He giggles into our kiss, hands wrapping around me to unclasp my bra. “Always so needy when I come home.” I let the straps fall, revealing more of myself to him.

Hungry eyes flicker between my breasts and my own eyes, fire and lust filling them. I will the butterflies in my stomach to dissipate. But the second his fingers reach up and tweak my nipples, they are back in full force. His fingers are magical and I think about it, the wetter I get.

“I did miss you. A-always miss you when you’re gone, Spence.” I let the confession fall from my lips. I knew I could just explain it away; I’d done it before. “But can you blame me for being needy? L-look at you.”

He grins, pushing me back onto his bed, crawling over me. “Yeah? What about me?”

I’m nearly speechless when he asks me that. I’ve told him he looks good before and never, ever, has he asked me to explain what I meant. And him kissing down my body is not helping my brain think of an excuse.

So, that explains why all I could think of was, “y-you’re so beautiful. Perfect.” He’s pulling off my panties as I confess to him that I thought he was beautiful.

“Really? You think I’m beautiful? S’very sweet.” He mutters between kisses up my thighs, till he’s settled between my legs. All I wanted was him to do something more stimulating. But Spencer liked the thrill of the chase, the build up. He teased me relentlessly until I begged.

He kisses my clit so gently, and it makes me shudder a little. I feel him smirk against me and before I can speak, he licks up my cunt and makes me moan loudly. “Fuck!” My hands tangle back into his beautiful hair, soft and pretty thanks to me teaching him how to take care of it.

He sucks a little harder on my clit, doing everything he knows I like. I squirm, making him wrap his arms around my thighs and pulling me closer to him while he works his tongue against me. “Spencer… p-please.” My begging starts because I want him to give me what I want.

“Begging already, pretty girl?” He grins before going back to what he was doing.

I grin at his sentiment, he only ever called me ‘pretty girl’ when we were like this. He never called me anything other than my name outside of this room. I relished in the name while I could. “Y-yes please. I’m so close!”

“Go ahead… cum for me, y/n.” And that’s all it takes for me to tip over the edge. My hands tugging on his hair and his name rolling off my tongue over and over again.

He works me through it as he always does, gently and with care. No man had ever made me feel the way he did. No man was ever as gentle as he was. Even when Spencer was rough with me, I still felt like he cared. Trust me, I understand how much of an oxymoron that is, but its true.

“Such a pretty girl… such a good girl for me huh?” He kisses up my body till he’s at my lips. I can taste myself on his tongue, my hands on his face so keep him near me.

“Please fuck me, Spencer” I whisper, our faces so close. “I need it.”

He grins, “oh you need it?” I cant help but match his grin.

“I’ll die if you don’t.” It makes him giggle but it works because he lines up and pushes in slowly. He fills me perfectly, stretching me in a way no one else has. “God…” I whine.

He fills me to the hilt and waits no time to fuck me, slow and deep. When he’s like this it means the case was decent, his mind just needed to be shut off so he can sleep. If it was hard and fast it meant he had a rough time, stressed out, and most likely, forced to kill someone. It didn’t matter if they were killers, he never liked shooting unsubs.

I was grateful for when we got to be like this, slow and controlled. Close. So, fucking close. His lips so close to mine, but pleasure not allowing us time for kisses. Just moans and sounds of our bodies coming together. My eyes struggling to stay open but I needed them to. I needed to memorize every moment of this time with Spencer. I did it every single time we were like this. Just in case it was the last time.

I wasn’t religious, but I always prayed he wouldn’t wake up and regret our time, ending us before we really ever started.

My nails dig into his back, making him groan, it was such a pretty sound. It makes me dig my nails in a little more just to hear it again. And I’m rewarded “fucking hell, baby.”

‘Baby’… another thing he only called me when we were like this.

It makes the knot in my stomach tighten and before I know it, another orgasm has me in a chokehold. Spencer following right behind me, calling out my name. The feeling fills me with emotions unlike anything else. “Spencer! God, Spencer I love you.” I don’t even stutter when I say it, but his hips do and that’s what makes me realize what I just said. “S-spencer I didn’t… i-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“I love you too.” It’s not an accident. He means his words, I can see it in his eyes. It takes my breath away.

“What?” My hands run down his arms and I will myself not to cry. All I’ve wanted for years is to hear him say that. And I sincerely wanted to make sure I wasn’t going crazy.

He moves slowly but he nods, slowly bringing us down from the high, “I love you. Have for so long.”

I blink up at him digesting his words. “Me? You love me?”

It makes him giggle. My confusion is something he always found funny. Claiming I was smarter than him in some ways, not as smart as others. He always says its cute. “Yes. I love you. And you love me, yeah?”

I nod and all that makes him do is connect his lips with mine. The kiss is sweet and full of everything I felt for so long. And it was all coming true.

“I’ll take that as a yes then?” He asks when I pull back.

“Can take it as an absolutely.”

I guess there really isnt fun in friends without benefits.

….

Tag list: @worryd0ll @muffin-cup @will-on-the-internet @mikewizkalifa @dr-spencerr-reidd @reidsconverse @ssaalexisreid @spencerreidat3am @thisiscalm-andits-doctor @princesssmooshie @spenxerslut @xoxospencerreid @reiding-recs @aayaissaa @spencerreid9 @pancake2603 @wheelsupscenehater @sixxslut @doctorspenceryeet @freakyhood96 @flipperpenguins @k-k0129 @measure-in-pain @rrtxcmt @withasideofmeg @totallyclearwitch @vaella1821 @shemarmooresfedora @tbuhgs @manuosorioh @luvofyourlifeliv @reidsbookclub @@mikhailogallavich @coldlilheart @everythingbutnormal @reidsacademia @sassymoon @nomajdetective @spideygenius @goldensonlyangel @hufflepuffhaze @doctcr-reid

#Spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fic

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babygirl-187 · 3 years

Text

The genius' submissive (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Story #2 of Agents of kink series.

Warning: This series contains sexual content, specifically it depicts BDSM relationships This story contains smut. I recommend you be 18+ to read this!! Again this series consists of lots of smut and a Dom/sub dynamic between Spencer (and other agents in the rest of the series) and the reader and other characters are in the BDSM community as well. If kink is not your thing or you are under 18 you might want to try one of my other less mature stories.

Description: When you move to DC and your friend introduces you to Doctor Spencer Reid, it's lust at first site and neither of you can help yourself. Loosely based on Friends without benefits by Chloe Collins (who actually wrote said song about Spencer!! Go check out all her stuff. She's great and has tons of CM inspired music).

CW// Rough play, slight choking and degradation, spanking, vaginal penetration, Dominant Spencer Reid, Dirty talk.

Now on to the story ⬇️⬇️⬇️

Upon moving to DC, your friend Alyssa had invited you out for drinks with her and her new boyfriend and her coworkers. You and Alyssa had been close for some time now having explored the BDSM scene of your hometown together and looking out for one another. She was even able to hook you up with a sweet deal on your new place because her coworker Derek owned it. It was rather nice and calm, and much better than the shitty studio apartment you'd rented in the middle of nowhere for basically the same price as this tiny home. You put the finishing touches on your hair before grabbing your bag and heading for the door so you can meet everyone at the bar.

You arrive and spot the group by Alyssa waving you over. "Hey!" Alyssa says enthusiastically pulling you into a hug, "Nice to see you, Y/N." Hotch nods. You'd met Hotch a couple of times, after all your best friend was completely smitten with him and she'd brought him with her to one of the dungeons back home when they'd officially agreed to be Dom and sub. "Nice to see you both too." You smile taking the seat in between Alyssa and... Woah. The guy next to you, gorgeous curls and an adork-able awkwardness that was screaming out at you in an instant as he sipped from his glass of water, the only one at the table with a none alchoholic beverage. "Y/N, These are my coworkers. My family really. You've met Derek and of course Hotch. But this is Penelope, JJ, Emily, Dave and last but not least our boy wonder Doctor Spencer Reid." Alyssa says gesturing to everyone. Doctor? Holy hell, did she really just say DOCTOR?

The night goes on, you'd fit in so well with the group that while you had just met them you could see why Alyssa would call them family. And Doctor Reid, dear lord, Doctor Reid, you can't seem to take your eyes off of him. You watch the way his hand wraps around his glass, admiring. Damn, Has anyone ever been jealous of a glass? If not then you just made history as you watch him bring it up to his lips and take a sip before setting it to the side. He was so talkative. You were convinced at this point that he knew everything about everything. He could tell you the sky was green and you'd probably be tempted to say 'Yes Doctor'. By the end of the night you'd exchanged phone numbers with him which earned him some teasing from Derek and Emily and made Alyssa absurdly happy. Alyssa insisted she and Hotch walk you to your car. "What can you tell me about Spencer? Is he?...." You ask but Alyssa cuts you off. "Single? Kinky? Yes and yes." Alyssa smirked. "Reid is a great guy. Extremely caring and I can vouch for him." Hotch adds reaasuringly. "He's a Dom?" You ask unsure, most would see him and immediately assume sub but he didn't strike you as such. His pressence was almost overwhelming. "A soft Dom, Just your type." Alyssa says with a smile. After a bit more chatting, about Spencer and otherwise you head home.

At home you shower and change into pajamas before hoping into bed and ultimately deciding to do something much more bold than you are used to. You text him, 'Hello Doctor Reid ;)'. You smile to yourself and find yourself staring at the phone like some giddy teenage girl waiting on your crush to text you back. 'Y/N, Hello.' He responded. 'So formal lol. It was nice meeting you tonight' you send. 'It was really nice meeting you as well. I thoroughly enjoyed our conversation about ancient Egyptian mythology.' He replied. You chuckle, wow he literally can't simplify a text and it's adorable.

'You know in March 2011, LOL, along with other acronyms, were formally recognized in an update of the Oxford English Dictionary. In their research, it was determined that the earliest recorded use of LOL as an initialism was for "little old lady" in the 1960s.' He texts before you can respond. How the hell did he type so fast? Well Hotch did say that he could read 20,000 words a minute. 'We should do something tomorrow night. Wanna see my new place?' You hit send before you can chicken out. 'Are you asking me out?'

He asks. 'Mm now I thought you were a genius. Yes.' You grin as you hit send, 'I don't know if either of us are in a good place to commit to a dynamic. I know Alyssa wants to set us up. And you are very beautiful.' he responds. 'Come on doctor. It doesn't have to turn into something, no pressure and no hard feelings' you sigh and hit send. 'I'll meet you at the bar tomorrow night at 9' he replies. 'Change your mind that quick?' You ask. 'Watch it' he sent, your pussy throbbed at the slight show of dominance. 'Make me'. 'Tomorrow, Y/N.' Oh shit. This will be fun.

The next day comes and you meet are the bar as planned, you discuss limits and a safeword and all of the extra details needed to ensure safe play and get to know each other a bit more before heading back to your place. It felt like it took an eternity to get there.

You fumble with your keys attempting to open the door while Spencer stands behind you calm and collected, somehow that makes him even more attractive and makes you fumble even more. You push the door open gesturing Spencer inside, you sit your things aside and turn back to him starting to say something but before you know it you're against the door, your hands pinned over your head. Your breathing hitches as he so easily over powers you despite his dorky little innocent demeanor. Such a front, a front you saw through in an instant. Spencer's hand goes up to your throat, not squeezing, but just resting there. His mouth attacks yours, your tongues fighting for dominance before you finally give in and submit to him.

Releasing your hands, he steps back. "Turn around." Spencer says, you immediately obey turning yourself around and you feel him unzipping your dress. In pools to the ground around your feet and you step out. Next he goes to undo your bra, nibbling and nipping at your neck as he does. Fuck, that's gonna leave a hickey you think to yourself and let out a moan. "Your skin marks up so pretty, y/n." Spencer says. You shrug off the bra, goosebumps rising on your skin as Spencer has you place your hands up against the door and instructs you not to move, his oh so perfect hands slip down to your waist, his caress more than perfect and guiding you teasingly into a state of bliss. He slides you panties down, barely ghosting over your skin as he does, even that slight touch making you crazy. Spencer steps backing again, taking in the sight of you. "You are absolutely gorgeous." He says, "I think I'm gonna take you right here, y/n. Fuck your sweet little pussy, right here pinned up against the door." Spencer adds. "Mm, take me doctor." You whimper as he teases your slit. His thumb ghosts lightly over your clit, making you writhe, pinned between him and the door. Suddenly, you feel a sharp sting on your ass and let out a yelp. "You don't make the demands here, angel." Spencer whispers in your ear. "I'm sorry, Doctor. Please take me." You say between breaths. Spencer undoes his pants as you hold your position against the door, knowing that you might earn a punishment if you move without permission. Spencer enters you, pounding you relentlessly against the door. "Ah. Oh fuck.. Harder please, Doctor." You moan. His hand travels your throat once again as he fucks you, his other hand working your clit, "You want it rougher, slut?" He asks. "Fuck. Yes. Please Doctor." You begged, soon you fly over the edge, the most intense orgasm hitting your body. He pulls out, his load spilling out coating your ass, messy and hot.

Panting, you both take a moment before Spencer helps you into a warm shower, gently cleaning you before helping you into one of your comfy oversized sweatshirts and getting you into bed. "You are such a good girl, you did so well." Spencer says kissing you on the forehead, you snuggle into him with a content sigh. Best move you could've made. "I'm gonna get you a glass of water, stay here." Spencer says going to get up. "I'm fine." You say. "Actually, it is recommended to drink water after sex, especially rough play in order to help hydrate and keep energy levels up because sexual activity can deplete strength. Additionally...." Spencer begins, you sigh and smile content to listen to him go on and on about why he was gonna make you drink water. So this is what it's like being the genius' submissive.

#Dom!SpencerReid #Dom!Spence #Spencer Reid x reader smut #criminal minds smut #cm smut #spencer reid smut #kinky reid

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thing-you-do-with-that-thing · 7 years

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Measured in Love

Characters: Y/N, Misha Collins, Sophia, Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Sophia’s father, Reader’s sister.

Pairing: Misha x Reader

Warnings: Mention of character death, not as angsty as that warning make it sound!

Word Count: 1200ish

A/N: This was hard as hell to write. I have never attempted this style before and I am not sure I will again. I wish I had mastered it better but this is as good as it is gonna get.

It is written for @the-awkward-writer’s 500 follower celebration challenge and my prompt was Seasons of Love from Rent which is one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite musicals.

Thanks a billion to the sweet amazing @winchester-writes for betaing this for me

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

July 12th was the first time your eyes met. It was the first time you saw his smile and your heart skipped a beat. July 12th was your first day working on Supernatural. It was the first day you talked to the man who was going to be there with you through it all. It was the first day you heard his voice and the first day he made you laugh as your hands were running through his hair, getting him ready for his scene.

August 1st was the first time he was waiting outside the hair and makeup trailer for you to finish work. It was the first time you blushed deeply in front of him, and the first time Misha asked you out. It was the first time you stumbled over your words, before finally managing to say yes. It was the first time you saw that light in his beautiful blue eyes, which only ever got lit for you.

August 2nd Misha held your hand as you walked off the set with him. He made you smile and laugh. He made you feel important and adored. Misha bought the two of you coffee and donuts, taking you down to the river. He asked you questions and he listened to you. He made you smile and laugh. He held you close as he kissed you goodbye leaving you wanting more. Everything. With him.

Every day until August 14th when Misha took you out on your second date, he texted, he called or dropped by the trailer after shooting. And that second date was a date like none you had ever been on before. He had sent you a wink asking you if you trusted him. Oddly enough, as little as you knew him, you did. You trusted him enough to sneak into an abandoned plot and climb up on the roof of the house with him. You sat between his legs watching the sunset with him, smiling as his lips ghosted over your shoulder.

You had never been happier lying in his arms when the first beams of the sun hit your naked body on August 15th. The smile beaming on your face reflected in his as his eyes shone brightly at you, pulling you close.

Over the course of the next few months you spent every moment possible with Misha, even if it caused you to blush daily with the playful teasing aimed at the two of you… well mostly at Misha from his two co-stars Jensen and Jared. You didn’t mind. You liked the two idiots and Misha just shrugged, pulling you into his arms kissing you breathless in front of them, pulling apart from you with a goofy smile on his face, whispering any amount of teasing was worth that.

October 2nd was the day you received the news of your sister. She had died in a car crash, leaving behind your 4 year old niece. Misha had been the first person you had run to as your lawyer hung up the phone. His arms were the ones you had sought comfort in when you cried yourself to sleep that night. His strength was yours over the next two months of custody battles against Sophia’s no good dad, who your sister had spent years trying to keep her safe from.

On December 4th, with Misha’s financial and moral support you had won sole custody of your niece and Misha had asked the two of you to move in with him. You had never cried so many happy tears as you had that day.

You had been so worried that no matter what you had done or ever would do, you could never be a good enough parent for Sophia. You could never be what the little girl deserved. That combined with the loss of your sister had kept you up past midnight on the 24th of December. Misha had held you, listened to you and let you cry, before he had even started reminding you of all the reasons he was sure you could do this. Before he had fished a ring out of his pocket, falling down on one knee before you, telling you this was not the way he had planned this. He knew you well enough to know, you needed to hear you never had to do any of this alone. You needed to hear that he loved you and that he would never leave your side. On the 25th of December you flew into his arms, sending him tumbling to the floor as you kissed him breathless. You were lying beneath the christmas tree when Misha gave you the best gift you could ever have asked for. A life with him and Sophia and tears were streaming down your cheeks as you whispered your yes.

The miles you and Sophia spent traveling back and forth between set and your new Washington state home didn’t mean anything. All the days you spent with Misha as a family was worth it all. On April 16th the adoption came through and Sophia Y/L/N became Sophia Collins only 3 days before you became Y/N Collins, as you married the love of your life in the presence of all your friends and family.

Today is July 11th and a year has past since that beautiful blue-eyed man walked into your life and changed it forever. Today you were sitting on the steps of his trailer with your five year old then niece now daughter in your lap. She smiled brightly up at you as she asked you if you think Daddy’s is going to be happy and it was all you could do not to cry. You still missed your sister every day. It had not been your choice for Sophia to start calling the two of you mom and dad, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to object to her affections and you knew your sister wouldn’t want you to either.

You nodded with a warm smile on your face, looking up when you heard Misha’s surprised gleeful greeting when he saw the two of you waiting for him as he headed off set for his break. Your eyes teared up along with his as Sophia ran to him and Misha read the text on the little girls shirt; spinning her around in the air, kissing her cheeks and reaching out for you, pulling you closely against his chest as your lips met as Sophia ewed playfully.

A year is not measured in the miles we travel across continents to be with family. It is not measured in the trials and tribulations we must go through. It is not even measured in the lives that we lose. It’s not measured in the times we laugh or cry. It is not measured in cups of coffee, sunsets or sunrises. It is measured in love and standing right here in the arms of your husband, with your fingers running through your daughter's hair and a small new life growing inside of you. You knew this year had been the best of your life.

Misha Tag Team

@mysupernaturalfics @blacktithe7 @percywinchester27 @docharleythegeekqueen @hexparker @feelmyroarrrr @starswirlblitz @d-s-winchester @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @fuckyeahfeysand @winchesters-flannels @tennesseewhiskey-and-pie @supernatural-jackles @adriellej @dance4angels @jayankles @mouselovesmusic @twistnshoutx @redunicorn10 @atc74 @sandlee44 @gecko9596 @jensen-jarpad @deansleather @phoenixia67 @chaos-and-the-calm67 @aiaranradnay @castiels-broken-fool @bemyqueenofdarkness @bbgmichael @ashleydivine @smoothdogsgirl @maui137 @molleighs @itsbubbaog @trashforwinchesters

#misha x reader #chloe celebrates 500 #misha collins x reader #misha collins fluff #misha fluff #misha collins one shot #misha one shot #spn one shot #spn fluff #spn imagine #misha imagine #misha collins imagine #actor fic #rpf

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mercy-burning · 3 years

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No Fun

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Everyone knows there’s no fun in friends without benefits. (Inspired by the song Friends Without Benefits by Chloe Collins) Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, drinking, oral sex (fem receiving), mention of male receiving oral sex, penetrative/unprotected sex, creampie Word Count: 3.4k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hello! Sorry my scheduling has been all over the place lately, as I’m sure you’re probably tired of hearing about at this point 😅 But, No Fun is finally out!! (It was also a very good way for me to ease myself back into writing after recovering from my cold alsdjflsdkjf) Also, if you don’t follow Chloe on TikTok (or any social, really) you should! She’s super sweet and writes all her songs about Criminal Minds. This one’s my favorite, though! It’s such a vibe, I hope you’ll all give it a listen! 😊❤

***

Her eyes opened of their own accord. No alarm, no ring of the cellphone, no hand on her shoulder accompanied by the voice of one of her co-workers saying they'd finally landed... She liked it that way. Not only because it meant she had that rare peace and quiet first thing in the morning—though that was definitely a perk. It also meant that she was most likely at Spencer's apartment.

In his bed.

In his shirt.

As her eyes adjusted to the golden warmth that beamed through the curtains, she stretched out her arms and legs, knowing full well that he was in the kitchen; He was always in the kitchen, ever the early bird.

Speaking of, the smell of coffee started to permeate into the bedroom, and it comforted her further as she rose into a seated position. In a matter of minutes, the coffee would be ready, and Spencer would be waiting patiently, sipping from his own cup while hers sat untouched at the spot across from him.

Normally, she would get dressed and meet him out there, but upon remembering all the delicious things that happened in that kitchen the night before, she was feeling a little devious.

So she got out of bed and removed her underwear, leaving her in just his shirt, which barely covered her ass. She was going to leave them in the bedroom, but after a split second decision, she ended up striding out into the kitchen with the garment dangling from her fingers.

"Good morning," she sang, standing in front of the kitchen counter. It covered her lower half, so the only indication of her indecent exposure took form of the fabric in her hand.

Spencer was reading something, not bothering to look up as he spoke. "Good morning. Your coffee's how you like it. I thought we could stop at the gas station on the way in to get something to eat."

"Yeah, that's fine," she responded, setting the underwear on the counter and picking up her coffee. "But I was hoping you would eat me instead."

She nonchalantly lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip as he finally looked up, raising an eyebrow. Her eyes glanced down at the counter as if to say, Look...

And he did.

The seductive sparkle in his eye at the sight in front of him sent a drip of excitement into her bloodstream that rippled throughout her whole body. It always had.

That's initially what drew her to him in the first place. Yeah, it was common knowledge to anyone that Spencer was intelligent, endearing, and handsome, but it was his flirty side that really got Y/N going. It didn't come out often, if at all— unless he was drunk or with the person of his affections.

Y/N found this out when the team threw him an impromptu birthday party last year. After discovering that he hadn't reminded anyone of his thirtieth birthday, Emily immediately called Penelope back home to start planning, and she looped everyone in before they landed later that night. Y/N herself was kind of disappointed with herself for even fathoming the idea of forgetting her friend's birthday, especially since she'd known him for years and celebrated his birthday with him and their friends before.

So before the party that night, she decided to go out and get him something. Only, she couldn't find anything, and it was on her way back when everyone was wondering where she was that Y/N started to question whether or not she really deserved to be considered his friend.

It didn't stop her from putting on a happy face and celebrating his birthday to the fullest, though— She showed up and hugged him immediately, holding onto him perhaps a little too long before offering to give him anything he wanted as compensation for forgetting his birthday, and his thirtieth at that. Of course, he insisted that she didn't really have to do anything for him, but she knew that was just him being himself.

Nonetheless, the party moved along, and with pretty much everyone out of his apartment after a long night of drinking and cake and celebration, Spencer and Y/N were the only two left, buzzed and sitting a little too close.

After convincing him to let loose and have a little fun on his 'special day', Y/N had managed to get him to help her finish an entire bottle of wine. And he'd been making his way through a few beers as the sun set and the stars came out.

And then he started looking at her weird.

That was the only way she could have described it in her drunken state, but it was certainly true, if only for the fact that it wasn't a look she'd ever seen from him before. His eyes were wide, pupils blown to almost full dilation, and his tongue kept dancing behind his lips like he was tracing out some sort of invisible pattern.

When she confronted him about it, drunkenly giggling and asking why he was looking at her like that, he laughed back and flat-out told her, "Have I ever told you how pretty y'are?" And she didn't even get a chance to respond before he continued. "Y/N, you're really pretty... Like, you're the prettiest woman I-ever seen."

"You're pretty, too, y'know, birthday boy," she laughed, smiling incredibly wide. Her whole body was practically on fire, and it only got hotter when he leaned in and kissed her, hard and sloppy, and with purpose.

They went on that night, stumbling around every square inch of his apartment while mumbling drunken compliments and haphazardly throwing aside their clothes until they woke up the next morning in his bed, naked, hungover, and absolutely shocked by what had happened.

Things at work were significantly more awkward, as to be expected, but as the days went on, the more they started to catch little stolen glances and shared recovered memories of what really happened.

More specifically, Y/N couldn't stop replaying these few sentences in her head, on a loop in between flashes of hands in hair and tongues on skin...

"You said you'd give me anything I wanted, right? What if I want you?"

"Then go ahead... Have me."

...Have me...

They met up in the parking lot one day after work and simultaneously blurted out in their own words how they couldn't stop thinking about what happened and how much they wanted to do it again...

And they did.

That seductive sparkle in his eye was there when he kissed her that first night on his birthday, it was there just before they started making out in the parking lot just a week later, and it was there now as he looked down at her panties on the table and then flitted his gaze up to meet hers.

Y/N's body buzzed with a thrill as Spencer made his way around the kitchen counter and dropped to his knees as she sat on the barstool and spread her legs for him.

***

They were late for work that morning.

To make it inconspicuous, Y/N showed up ten minutes after Spencer did— maybe a little exaggerated, but it didn't raise any suspicions. It might have sucked when as soon as she walked in everyone was on their way out to go to the airstrip, Hotch with his phone in hand and ready to dial her number, but nobody suspected a thing.

Spencer threw a little smirk at her as he passed, and she resisted the urge to smack his ass out of spite.

She would have done it, too, but there were two specific rules they'd set once they decided to regularly sleep together, and one of them was that nothing could happen at work or around their friends. And regardless of how badly they wanted to steal kisses or touches at work, their arrangement meant too much to compromise. Once either rule was broken, their little friends with benefits excursion would be immediately void.

Unfortunately, after a flight that was absolutely laced with their sexual tension and once they'd landed in Minnesota for this latest case, they both shared a look that practically set in stone the undeniable, inevitable truth.

They were obsessed.

The whole ordeal was incredibly exhilarating, already an inevitable outcome when it came to regularly sleeping with a co-worker, but what they weren't counting on was just how thrilling it was. Almost a year into their extracurricular activities and they were spending just about every free moment attached by mouths and hands and limbs. And as time progressed it became increasingly more difficult to keep to themselves, needing to be in proximity to one another constantly.

That's not to say they weren't excellent at handling it, though.

Sure, the burning in their veins at the sight of one another after knowing what it was like to be intimate was excruciating, and being paired together on cases knowing that they couldn't break any rules had them feeling like they were going to drown... But the pay-off after a long period of time with no physical contact was absolutely worth it.

All the secrecy and the holding back made it that much explosive when they finally got a decent moment alone.

Right now they were on their way back from a week-long case in Georgia.

And maybe it was fucked up, but once the team realized it was going to be rather grueling, the first thing Y/N thought was how better her stress relief was going to be when they finally finished. The second she thought it, she briefly glanced over at Spencer and saw that he had the same look on his face.

Even during the jet ride home, they were sitting on opposite sides while everyone slept around them, staring at each other and only breaking eye contact when someone rustled in their sleep.

Grueling images of the things they'd seen in the past week danced between them alongside flashes of all the things they wanted to do to each other as compensation. They heard faint screams and gunshots muffled by the high moans and shouts of each others' names, heavy breathing and skin slapping against skin...

The only word that sat between them as they clamored into Spencer's car and drove off was, "Drive."

It was late. They were exhausted and alert all at the same time. Their bodies were practically on fire. Y/N's leg bounced rapidly as Spencer's fingers tapped the steering wheel with fervor and impatience. And when he knew there would be no one around to pull them over for speeding, he stepped on the gas harder, and their heartbeats picked up right alongside their speed.

Even the walk up to his apartment was laced with impatience, Y/N's leg still bouncing as Spencer unlocked the door.

They rushed through it the second there was a tiny sliver of light from the dim nightlight she knew he kept in the entryway.

And then it was beautiful, heavenly chaos.

The door slammed loudly as Spencer leaned his whole body weight against Y/N, sending her flying towards it. They were drawn together like a magnet to a fridge, a moth to a flame, days of pent-up frustration and tension beginning its firework show right there in his entryway as their mouths clashed together.

No amount of contact was good enough it seemed, because it was just constant movement. Their hands wandered and their bodies pressed into each other continuously as they kissed the breath out of each other. Even still, they continued all the way to his bedroom, grunting while bumping into furniture and walls and doorways, but never daring to separate an inch all the same.

"God, I needed you," Spencer whispered once his bedroom door was shut. His hands tugged at her shirt and tried to get the buttons done as he continued. "All fucking week, you were just right there and I couldn't touch you..."

Y/N pressed her mouth to his and started hastily unbuttoning his shirt as well. After a few seconds, he pulled his mouth away and started to speak again, his fingers still trying to get her shirt undone. "I need it bad..."

With a frustrated grunt, Y/N pulled him in closer by the collar of his shirt and hissed into his mouth, "Then shut up and fucking take it..."

Her words kicked him in the ass and shot him forward, sending them flying towards the door once again. She yelped at the sharp pain that came and went as her back hit the wood, but with Spencer's hands finally tearing open her shirt and settling on her bare waist as he practically shoved his tongue down her throat, she couldn't complain.

Both of their shirts came off, and as soon as they hit the floor her hands went to his hair. She tugged on the wavy locks, a soft moan escaping her as he dipped his hands under the back of her bra and worked the clasp. It came off quickly, as it always did, and once it hit the floor he leaned down and gave her breasts all his attention. His tongue swirled around her nipples one my one, littering her skin with kisses in between and reveling in the way she kept tugging on his hair each time he gently tugged a nipple with his teeth.

Eventually, they both couldn't take any more, Y/N pushing his head down while tugging down her slacks and Spencer being glad she did, using his hands to assist her.

Having known for about a year now how heavenly his mouth was when it worked at her wasn't even a fair warning for the intensity of the shudders that soared through her body when his lips made contact with her clit just then. She let out a loud, broken cry of relaxation and relief and pure ecstasy as he practically devoured her.

His tongue was gliding through her with ease, ravening groans erupting from his throat and sending more sharp waves of excitement through Y/N's bloodstream with every passing second. His ministrations were quick and greedy, sloppy yet precise. And when he added his fingers to the mix, she gripped his hair tight and cried out his name, tensing at the sweet, burning stretch they provided.

That only drove him more wild, his tongue flicking over her clit faster while his fingers pumped, curled, and dragged languidly inside of her. He worked to pull every ounce of pleasure from her body, all while squeezing his eyes shut and losing himself in the taste of her, the way her thighs lightly trembled over his face and the desperate clutches of her fingers in his hair...

He wanted all of it. All of her.

He also wanted to hear that sound she made when he was helping her through the peak of her orgasm— a high, dreamy cry that boiled his insides and turned him into an animal.

And there it was, with just three more quick pumps of his fingers. It started off soft, though he knew the second he sucked on her clit and grazed her g-spot with his fingers it would careen higher and louder, right into that perfect pitch that he wished he could hear for eternity. Her thighs shook almost violently around his head, her fingers clawing at his scalp so tight that he felt little pinpricks of pleasure run down the back of his head and through his neck.

Y/N came down soon after, her voice resorting to small whimpers and pants as she tried to push his head away. But it wasn't until she actually tugged his hair up that Spencer finally retreated and got up off the floor.

"I thought you wanted me to take it?" he panted, already missing the warmth of her legs over his face.

She reached down and started toying with his belt, pulling him closer by the leather and throwing him a smirk. "Yeah, but now I wanna take it."

Before she could sink to her knees, though, he stopped her, walking her towards the bed and sitting her down as he finished taking off his pants. "Another time... Right now I need to be inside of you."

The urgency dripping in his voice and through his movements made Y/N burn all over again, and really, who was she to argue? Yeah, maybe she wanted to suck the living soul out of him, but his eagerness to get to the main event gave her the opportunity to treat him tomorrow morning. Spencer was always hard in the morning (at least on the rare occasion that she'd wake up before he did), and the thought of his sleepy groans and whines as she slowly worked his cock with her mouth was more than enough to keep her satisfied until then.

It also made her incredibly wet and ready, which was convenient when he climbed over her and bent her legs back, leaning forward and sinking into her in no time at all.

The sounds that came out of their mouths right then were exceedingly pornographic. It had been too long since their last sexual encounter, and even though they'd been at it plenty of times before, it still felt as intense and fresh as the first few times.

As aforementioned, they were obsessed.

Their song and dance of skink on skin never got old. Time and time again, it was like they'd never touched before, every feeling so intense it was like they were on the top of a rollercoaster that just kept falling and falling with no end in sight.

Every time he snapped his hips forward and and stretched her wide, her insides crumbled apart and gave way to his storm. She embraced his using of her body for pleasure, and he gave her the best orgasms in turn.

As of right now, she was caught between wanting to look down between their bodies to watch him fuck her and laying back to let it happen— take it all in that way and lose herself in the moment.

Though, she settled on the former, just as she always did, because watching Spencer fuck her was always the more exciting option. Especially when he was as urgent as he was now.

She watched with her bottom lip out in a pout as he fucked her, taking notice of how his hands looked gripping her waist and how his stomach tensed with every movement. Her eyes wandered over the planes of his body, and then finally his face. Usually he'd be so focused on the task at hand that his eyes would barely be open, taking in every ounce of pleasure that he possibly could, and that was exactly the case here. Fluttering eyes, pouty lips, flushed face, hair damp and wild as ever...

It drove her half mad.

"Harder," she demanded, reaching out and pulling him closer by the ass.

Spencer was more than happy to comply, a satisfied huff of laughter coming from him as he leaned down and sharpened his movements. His hips were heavier, pinning Y/N down into the mattress with every thrust forward, consequently drawing a little whimper from her each time.

To take it a step further and complete her request, he leaned back a little and pushed her legs open and wide, spreading her further and pinning her down that way to give his hips more driving force.

Unsurprisingly, neither of them lasted long after that.

Y/N shouted his name into the air, leaning her head back as her body tensed and gave in to his force. And he fucked her through it, his grunts gradually getting louder until his hips pushed into hers one final time, at which point he leaned down and put more of his weight on top of her.

As he filled her with his release, she sighed out, clenching herself around him and reveling in his warmth. Whether it was the warmth inside of her or the warmth he provided by blanketing her body with his own, she was glad for its presence. There was nothing else she'd rather have felt after a hard week at work—or any hard feat, really—than Spencer.

He retracted his warmth once they'd settled, however, removing himself from the bed on shaky limbs to grab wipes on the other side of the room.

And of course, Y/N admired him the whole way, flashing him a devilish wink when he inevitably caught her staring.

***

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction

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fundielicious-simblr · 2 years

Text

(Kyleigh's POV)(Summary: Kyleigh married into the Collins family and began pumping out children yearly as soon as she said "I Do", so far they've got 10 children ages 9 and under)

(AN: Please laugh with me at how chaotic these pictures are, they truly explain the efforts to take in-game shots as well as the effort to have birthdays in a 12 person household.)

We recently celebrated Marigold's birthday! She's #7 in the lineup and it's been great watching her personality shine through and she grows up. We always try and do something with the birthday celebrant for them to have time with mum and dad, when they're young we take them to the park and have dinner at the big house where they're celebrated by their grandpa and grandma collins. When they're older they pick an activity that they want to do, and they get the option of picking a friend/sibling to join them for said activity with us.

She looks like I did when I was younger, as the children get older I always appreciate which parent they end up favouring as they grow into their features. For her birthday she wanted all her sisters at the park with her, so Chloe, Rose, Violet, and Daisy tagged along with us for our fun day out. She then had dinner with her grandparents as well as Barrett and I at the big house, whilst her siblings were home having dinner with Macie and Ashton. We want the children to have that individual bond with us as well as with their grandparents.

In other news, something in me told me to take a pregnancy test which turned out positive! When we told the kids that baby 11 was on its way they were over the moon! Hearing them pray for another sibling makes my soul sing, it's important to Barrett and I that we inculcate a true love of life to in our children's' hearts, so that they can grow and have a heart for children when they're adults. After having little Jefferson, I did struggle with some baby blues, but with the news of this new baby I'm absolutely over the moon (AN: Dear reader, DO NOT use this plan of action with any kind of mental health issues. Kyleigh is a bunch of pixels controlled by me who feels nothing. If you recognise that you require assistance in feeling better, please contact your medical provider. 💚)

Pictured: Benji and Violet, Daisy is pictured on the left taking out the trash

Having kids at different ages means there's 4 things happening at once, we had Rose fracture her arm whilst playing at the park a few weeks ago. It's healed now, but having to keep someone as active as Rose away from the jungle gym was much harder than I expected. We've got 5 kids who are actively missing teeth, we don't do the tooth fairy nonsense though the kids aren't getting any 'magical money'. Benji and Violet were the most recent to lose one front tooth each, Benji bit into an apple and lost his whilst Violet pulled her wobbly tooth out herself! The kids have taken to taking selfies/pictures/videos to send to my parents since they live further away and don't see them as much.

#fundie sims #fundiesims #quiverfull sims #quiver full sims #collins family #collins legacy #sims 4 legacy #modest sims #homeschool sims #gen 3 #Barrett and Kyleigh #gen 4 #the house is so chaotic they really need an upgrade #im trying to go for realism and having them save up and pay for the add on themselves #but lets see how much I can grift for the additions to their new house #because the land is actually only a 30x20 plot and the house has taken up all of it #so we can only build upwards #i truly do love seeing the dynamics between the children as they grow

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writemarcus · 2 years

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Gingold Theatrical Group to Present SPEAKERS' CORNER New Play Development Workshops

Featuring: Karma Sutra Chai Tea Latte, Vigil-Aunties, There Goes The Neighborhood, and Howl From Up High.

by Chloe Rabinowitz May. 18, 2022

Gingold Theatrical Group, now in its 17th Season, is continuing its new play development with the Plays-In-Progress AEA-approved Showcases of this year's SPEAKER'S CORNER Writers Group. This season, writers Aeneas Sagar Hemphill, Divya Mangwani, Marcus Scott and Mallory Jane Weiss are developing works in response to prompts from the revolutionary activist humanitarian writings and precepts of George Bernard Shaw. These Actors Equity Association approved 29-hour workshops culminate with a presentation as an opportunity for each playwright to assess where they are with their work and to determine the next steps to be taken. These invitation-only presentations will take place at ART-NY Studios (520 8th Avenue). Space for each final presentation is extremely limited and reservations must be made, so to request the opportunity to attend any of these events please email [email protected] This year's showcases will be:

Howl From Up High

by Mallory Jane Weiss, Directed by Lily Riopelle Thursday May 19th at 6pm Purva Bedi, Tori Ernst, Jacqueline Guillen, Sarah Rose Kearns, Adam Langdon, Collin McConnell; Assistant Director, Margaret Lee

Vigil-Aunties

by Divya Mangwani, Directed by Arpita Mukherjee Friday May 20th at 7pm Anya Banerji, Aadya Bedi, Sayali Niranjan Bramhe, Rahoul Roy, Mahima Saigal, Salma Shaw, and Rita Wolf; Assistant Director, Sara Vishnev

There Goes The Neighborhood

by Marcus Scott, Directed by Dev Bondarin Friday June 3rd at 7pm Phillip Burke, Shavanna Calder, Anthony Goss, Ashley Jossell, Olivia Kinter, Monique Robinson, David Rowen, Cliff Sellers; Stage Manager Elliot J. Cohen.

Karma Sutra Chai Tea Latte

by Aeneas Hemphill, Directed by Arpita Mukherjee, Monday June 6th at 2pm Shawn, Jain, Sean Devare, Salma Shaw, Khyati Sehgal, Mahima Saigal; Stage Manager Elliot J. Cohen

"Among the many programs we've developed over the last 17 years, developing new plays with the intent to produce and publish, has always been the most ambitious dream of all of us at Gingold. While we continue to produce our annual full off-Broadway productions of plays by George Bernard Shaw, we plan to add at least one new play to our schedule to share with our devoted patrons," said David Staller. Named after the corner of London's Hyde Park where George Bernard Shaw and other political speakers have delivered speeches since 1855, GTG's SPEAKERS' CORNER brings together six to ten writers each year who will spend the year exploring a specific Shaw play and writing individual new plays in response to that text and Shaw's forward thinking humanitarian ideals. Speakers' Corner members meet bi-monthly, and GTG will host showings of the works that Speakers' Corner develops at the end of the season. The group's members were identified through an open application process under the guidance of Becker, GTG Artistic Director David Staller, and this season's Speakers' Corner Readers and Advisory Committee: Ilana Becker, Stephen Brown-Fried, Ralph B. Peña, Daphne Rubin-Vega, Sharon Washington, along with Speakers' Corne alumni Hank Kim, and Lorenzo Roberts.

WRITERS:

Aeneas Sagar Hemphill (he/him) is an Indian-American playwright and screenwriter based in NYC and DC. Weaving through many genres, his work builds new worlds to illuminate our own, investigating the ghosts that haunt our lives and communities with passion, pathos, and humor. He was a 2019 Resident Artist with Monson Arts Center and 2017-2018 Playlab fellow at Pipeline Theatre, as well as semi-finalist for the 2019 Princess Grace Award, semi-finalist for the 2019 Mabou Mines Resident Artist Program, and finalist for the 2017 Many Voices Fellowship. His plays include: Black Hollow (Argo Collective, Dreamscape Theatre), The Troll King (Pipeline), Childhood Songs (Monson Arts), The Republic of Janet & Arthur (Amios), The Red Balloon (Noor Theatre), A Stitch Here or There (DarkHorse Dramatists, Slingshot Theatre), A Horse and a Housecat (Slingshot Theatre). MFA Playwriting, Columbia University. Divya Mangwani is a writer and theatre artist from Pune, India, based in New York. She examines the absurdities of the social, political and mythical. Her work focuses on global identity and belonging. Divya was the founder and Artistic Director of Moonbeam Factory Theatre, where she wrote, directed, and produced plays in India, Singapore and Glasgow. In New York, she has developed work with UNICEF, Soho Rep, New York Theatre Workshop, Gingold Theatrical Group, Rattlestick Theatre, Mabou Mines, Hypokrit Theatre, The Flea, Project Y, Pipeline Theatre, Rising Sun, and Governors Island. Divya is a recent fellow of the Soho Rep Writer/Director Lab and the Gingold Theatrical Group Speakers Corner and was a NYTW 2050 Artistic Fellow, Hypokrit Theatre Tamasha playwright, Project Y Writers Group and Playlab fellow at Pipeline Theatre. Divya has also worked as a journalist and editor at The Times of India, ESPN, Crisis Response Journal, and Daily News & Analysis. Marcus Scott is a dramatist & journalist. Selected work includes Tumbleweed (finalist for the 2017 Bay Area Playwrights Festival; semifinalist for the 2022 Eugene O'Neill Theater Center National Playwrights Conference, the 2022 Blue Ink Playwriting Award & the 2017 New Dramatists Princess Grace Fellowship Award), Sibling Rivalries (finalist for the 2021 Seven Devils Playwrights Conference; semi-finalist for the 2022 Lanford Wilson New American Play Festival, the 2021 Blue Ink Playwriting Award & the 2021 New Dramatists Princess Grace Fellowship Award) and Cherry Bomb (recipient of the 2017 Drama League First Stage Artist-In-Residence). He was commissioned by Heartbeat Opera to adapt Beethoven's Fidelio (Librettist/Co-writer; The Met Museum; NY Times Critic's Pick). Recently developed at Gingold Theatrical Group (Speaker's Corner), Zoetic Stage (Finstrom Festival Of New Work), Queens Theatre (New American Voices series) and The Road Theatre Company's Under Construction 3 Playwrights Group and Cohort 2 of the Southern Black Playwrights Lab at the Mojoaa Performing Arts Company. Scott is a 2021 NYSAF Founders' Award finalist and a 2021 Doric Wilson Independent Playwright Award semi-finalist. His articles appeared in Architectural Digest, Time Out New York, American Theatre Magazine, Playbill, Elle, Out, Essence, The Brooklyn Rail, among others. MFA: GMTWP, NYU Tisch. Mallory Jane Weiss's plays include Big Black Sunhats (The O'Neill National Playwrights Conference 2022; Clubbed Thumb Biennial Commission finalist 2020), Lights Out and Away We Go (Clubbed Thumb reading June 2022), The Page Turners (The O'Neill National Playwrights Conference finalist 2021), Pony Up (Princess Grace Finalist 2019; SPACE on Ryder Farm semi-finalist 2020), Howl From Up High (in development with Gingold Theatrical Group), Evermore Unrest (Red Bull Short New Play Festival 2020), Dave and Julia are stuck in a tree (Playing on Air's James Stevenson Prize 2020), and Losing You, Which Is Enough (workshop readings at The Lark and Cherry Lane Theatre). She is a member of Clubbed Thumb's Early Career Writers' Group (2021-2022), The COOP's Clusterf**k vol. 2 (2021), Gingold Theatrical Group's Speakers Corner, and Fresh Ground Pepper's BRB Retreat (2019). Mallory earned her B.A. from Harvard University and her M.F.A. in playwriting from The New School. She also works as a Senior Writer for Ethena, where she creates harassment-prevention training in the form of short-form articles, graphic novels, audio plays, and more. In addition to Speakers' Corner, GTG's on-going play development also includes PRESS CUTTINGS, which, in recognition of Shaw's career as a theatre critic, supports the development of new plays written by theatre journalists. Press Cuttings has commissioned new plays by Jeremy McCarter, Robert Simonson, and David Cote, and, in June of 2017, presented an AEA workshop of David Cote's Otherland directed by May Adrales. This fall, GTG returned to live, in person performance with the acclaimed revival of Bernard Shaw's Mrs. Warren's Profession starring Robert Cuccioli, David Lee Huynh, Alvin Keith, Nicole King, Raphael Nash Thompson, and Tony® Award winner Karen Ziemba as Mrs. Warren, which recently completed its acclaimed Off-Broadway engagement at Theatre Row, directed by David Staller. Terry Teachout, reviewing Mrs. Warren's Profession in The Wall Street Journal, declared "Mr. Staller, who knows everything there is to know about Shaw, has not only staged the play but edited the text with his accustomed skill. All the more reason, then, to praise David Staller, the artistic director of Project Shaw, a long-running series of semi-staged concert readings of the playwright's 60-odd shows. In addition to Project Shaw, Mr. Staller's Gingold Theatrical Group presented fully staged small-scale off-Broadway versions of Heartbreak House in 2018 and Caesar and Cleopatra in 2019, and now they're doing Mrs. Warren's Profession. The production is completely satisfying... Sprinkled with tart, school-of-Wilde epigrams ('There are no secrets better kept than the secrets everybody guesses') and overflowing with glittering talk, it's a foolproof vehicle for six accomplished actors and a director who, like Mr. Staller, knows better than to let the play become a static chat-fest. Instead, he keeps the actors moving and the pace brisk, and the results are immensely pleasurable." GINGOLD THEATRICAL GROUP creates theater that supports human rights, freedom of speech, and individual liberty using the work of George Bernard Shaw as our guide. All of GTG's programs are inspired by Shaw's humanitarian values. Through full productions, staged readings, new play development, and inner-city educational programs, GTG brings Shavian precepts to audiences and artists across New York, encouraging individuals to breathe Shaw's humanist ideals into their contributions for the future. Shaw created plays to inspire peaceful discussion and activism and that is what GTG aims to accomplish. GTG's past productions include Man and Superman (2012), You Never Can Tell (2013), Major Barbara (2014), Widowers' Houses (2016), Heartbreak House (2018), and Caesar & Cleopatra (2019). Founded in 2006 by David Staller, GTG has carved a permanent niche for the work of George Bernard Shaw within the social and cultural life of New York City, and, through the Project Shaw reading series, made history in 2009 as the first company ever to present performances of every one of Shaw's 65 plays (including full-length works, one-acts and sketches). GTG brings together performers, critics, students, academics and the general public with the opportunity to explore and perform theatrical work inspired by the humanitarian and activist values that Shaw championed. All comedies, these plays boldly exhibit the insight, wit, passion and all-encompassing socio-political focus that distinguished Shaw as one of the most inventive and incisive writers of all time. Through performances, symposiums, new play development, and outreach, as well as through our discussion groups and partnerships with schools including SUNY Stony Brook, Regis, the De La Salle Academy, and The Broome Street Academy, GTG has helped spark a renewed interest in Shaw across the country, and a bold interest in theater as activism. Young people are particularly inspired by Shaw's invocation to challenge the strictures society imposes, to embrace the power of the individual, to make bold personal choices and to take responsibility for these choices. GTG's new play development lab, Speakers' Corner, created to support playwrights inspired by Shaw's ideals, is now in its second cycle. Through monthly prompts and feedback, writers develop work inspired by or in response to a specific Shaw text. Plays developed through Speakers' Corner will be nurtured in workshops and readings with the expectation that GTG will publish or produce them. GTG encourages all people to rejoice in the possibilities of the future. All of GTG's programming is designed to inspire lively discussion and peaceful activism with issues related to human rights, the freedom of speech, and individual liberty. This was the purpose behind all of Shaw's work and why GTG chose him as the guide toward helping create a more tolerant and inclusive world through the exploration of the Arts. For more information about the Workshops or any of Gingold Theatrical Group's projects, please call 212-355-7823, email [email protected], or visit online at www.gingoldgroup.org.

#Gingold Theatrical Group #GTG #Speakers' Corner #Mallory Jane Weiss #Divya Mangwani #Aeneas Hemphill #Arpita Mukherjee #Lily Riopelle #Dev Bondarin #Marcus Scott #MarcusScott #WriteMarcus #Write Marcus

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delos-mio · 4 years

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Death of a Bachelor - Part 17

A/N: I’m on a roll, kids. But with that roll, it’s with a heavy heart I announce that there is only ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFT! Well, and an epilogue. But the end of DOAB is fast approaching. Enjoy a chapter with what I think is s fun little something different, and some gratuitous smut (oops). YES you read that right, there are sexy times ahead! Anyways, enjoy, gimme your thoughts, and tags at the end!

PEREZ EXCLUSIVE: Get ALL The Tea From The Delos Family Affair!

We weren’t the only ones caught off guard by Saturday night’s family shake up!

It’s been no secret that Delos patriarch and total Daddy™️ Jim Delos had plans to retire this fall. Recently we’d seen his soon-to-be son in law (maybe not anymore?), William, as the figure head at Delos events. Billionaire playboy and Jim’s own son, Logan Delos, looked like he was OUT of the picture. Poor baby, we’ll be your shoulder to cry on, right Perezcious readers?

So imagine Jim and William’s surprise the night of the retirement party when the Delos heir announces he bought daddy’s company with veteran entrepreneur John Collins?! Consider our wigs snatched!

Inside sources who were at the event Saturday night say a number of arguments broke out immediately after the bombshell was dropped- I can’t imagine Jim was too happy.

But the real fight occurred between William and his fiancé, Delos director Juliet Delos. Witnesses saw William leaving the party with the cute little blonde playing the piano and shards of glass in the hallway. Has William been playing his fiancé to get in good with Delos?! And the same little birdie told us that this affair may not be the first! Umm…no offense, but William? Not exactly on our hot list. Now, Logan, on the other hand…

Logan has a long history of rolling around in the sheets with anyone with a pulse. He’s been linked to everyone from Tristian West to Holly Decker. But might the perpetual Delos bachelor be off the market?! Attendees of the event say Logan was accompanied by a woman he seemed quite taken with, some going so far as to say he “never left her side” and “looked at her with cartoon hearts in his eyes”. Well, there’s a first time for everything!

O. M. G! A lover’s quarrel, a family coup d’etat, and Logan with a *gasp* girlfriend? Wish we could have been there!

So what do you think, my Perezcious readers? Will Delos sink or swim under new ownership? And are we witnessing the death of a bachelor with Logan Delos?

-----

“...So then, John gets up front to say thanks or whatever. And he goes ‘oh I’m just half of ownership, why don’t you come up here, L?’ So Logan goes to stand with him and Jim just blows the fuck up,” you smiled, biting down on your lip. You were back in your office with your beloved friend and assistant, dishing to Charles’ slack jaw as you recounted the events from the retirement party just a couple days ago.

“No way,” he laughs.

“Yes. And then William’s all ‘did you fucking know about this?!’ to Jules who is like, completely blindsided at this point. And Logan sees him yelling at her and gets in his face to get away from his sister,” you continued.

“Oh my god.”

“I go check on Logan to make sure he’s ok and he’s like yeah, yeah, but we should find Jules. So, we go back inside and Jules is screaming at the top of her lungs, throwing clothes, throwing vases...”

“Vases?!” Charles squeaked out.

“Vases. Because guess what? William was in there about to fuck the girl he brought in to play piano.” You leaned back in your seat and waited for Charles to process everything you just said. He sat, flabbergasted, for a moment before putting his hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Your life is more exciting than Real Housewives of Beverly Hills,” he giggled. “Oh! When you guys get married, please give your job to me and become a Bravo housewife. You’d be so good at it!” You looked at Charles with an arched eyebrow that he waved off. “But really, that’s insane! I can’t believe all that happened in a night.”

“All of that specifically happened in like, 20 minutes,” you laughed.

“Jesus Lord. I’m so mad I wasn’t there!”

“You would have loved it.” It felt good to be able to laugh about that night with someone a little more removed from the drama. Someone in attendance at the party had to run to almost every gossip blog and tabloid peddling “exclusive” information about the events that unfolded. Most of it was true, some of it was false, but it was in no way a complete picture. Logan was annoyed at first that everything had been made so public so fast, but he was used to media scrutiny by this point in his life.

After William drove off, Logan pulled Juliet aside to talk about Delos. She was furious he didn’t tell her about him buying the company from under their dad’s nose, but given his history with Jim and William, she ultimately understood why Logan kept her out of it for as long as he did. Logan was clear he didn’t want to change anything about the business or take anything from her. No, his goal was to get Jim and William out of there, to make it a safe place for him and his sister to grow and thrive and lead.

“I’m going to be out for the rest of the day starting around 1. I told Logan I’d meet him for lunch. It’s his first day back in his office and I think he’s a little nervous.”

“The handsome, sexy, confident Logan Delos gets nervous?” Charles asked with a smile.

“Yes, he does. And stop hitting on my boyfriend. You’re his type and hot enough to steal him from me,” you laughed and tossed a pen at Charles.

“Yeah right. Like his entire world doesn’t start and end with you.” You looked up from your computer screen at Charles, who was grinning even broader this time.

“Shut up,” you mumbled and blushed.

“Well, have fun and tell the Mrs. I say hello.” Charles stood and moved to your office door, pausing before he let himself out. “Seriously though, tell him I said congrats too.”

“I will. He’ll appreciate that,” you said with a smile, watching as the door shut again behind Charles.

——-

The receptionist you’d come to know as Chloe beamed at you when you walked into the office. She looked like she had a spring in her step and couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

“Good afternoon, Chloe. How are you?”

“I’m excellent, thank you! Coming in today and finding out Mr.— sorry, William was no longer with Delos was a welcome surprise,” she said candidly. You guessed the switch from the formal address to just his first name was her way of saying he no longer warranted the respect. When you quirked your lips at her, she clamped a hand over her mouth. “That was so unprofessional of me. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me,” you said sweetly. “And I’m sure Logan wouldn’t mind if he overheard you talking shit about William.”

“Thank you,” she exhaled. “Mr. Delos said to send you right in when you got here and that-“ she paused to pull up an email “I have specific orders to ‘always let my princess in directly to me. Do not call me and tell me she’s here. Just send her in. And do not interrupt me while she’s here. If there’s an emergency, make it Juliet or John’s problem’,” she recited directly off her screen.

“He actually put princess in that?” you cringed.

“He did. He told me to follow his memo to the letter.” Her eyes darted back to the screen and you rolled your eyes fondly.

“Thank you, Chloe. Same office as before?”

“Yes, ma’am. And it’s my pleasure.” As you started to walk away, you heard her call out to you quietly.

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to say I’m glad to see you here again.” Her cheeks painted pink and she looked down at her keyboard.

“The feeling is mutual, dear.” You smiled and made your way back to the corner office you knew had belonged to him before his dismissal. You gave a soft knock on the large oak door and heard Logan call from inside.

“That better be my princess.”

You laughed and opened the door just enough to slide in, shutting and locking it behind you. “You really had to use my pet name in a memo?” you asked, setting your bag down on the closest chair. “I get VIP access to the boss?”

“Read that to you, did she?” Logan was already on his feet and sweeping you into his arms. You nodded before his lips found yours and he pulled you into a searing kiss.

“You look good behind that desk,” you said, breathless.

“I think it’d look better with you on it,” he smirked.

“Well, what are you waiting for, Mr. Delos? You’re in charge here, are you not?” You teased, running a finger down his chest.

A feral look flashed in Logan’s eyes before he lifted you into his arms, walking you to his desk in front of the floor to ceiling windows and perching you on the edge. Your legs parted on their own accord so Logan could slot himself between them, pressing close to you as he kissed along your jaw.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to fuck you right here, just like this,” he breathed into your neck.

“Since the first day you met me? When you had that cute little crush on me,” you giggled and Logan nipped right below your ear.

“I still have a crush on you.” It shouldn’t have gotten to you the way it did, but Logan saying those words sent off butterflies in your stomach, making you dig your nails deeper on his back. Logan ran one of his large palms up the inside of your thigh, deftly using his long fingers to push aside the material of your underwear and run them teasingly through your folds. “Fuck, you’re already soaking wet baby,” he groaned, easily sliding his fingers inside you, keeping his thumb rubbing over your clit.

“Want you,” you moaned into his ear before taking the lobe between your teeth and tugging. Logan wasted no time reaching down and pushing up your skirt around your hips and pulling off your panties, letting them dangle crudely around one ankle. You fumbled with his belt and zipper, unwilling to stop kissing him for long enough to look at what you were trying to do. Logan eventually helped you out, pushing his suit pants just below his ass.

“God, you make me so fucking hard,” Logan panted as you fisted his already leaking cock. He couldn’t help looking down and watching you work him, loving the way it looked and felt to have you finally touching him after he fantasized about this very moment all morning. “Gonna let me fuck you right here, baby girl?” He unbuttoned the top few buttons of your blouse, just enough so he could slip a hand inside and palm your breast. The massaging turned you into putty in his hands and he knew it. Logan had definitely learned what to do to you to make sure he got his way.

“Yeah,” you whined, looping your arms over his shoulders and pressing your chest against him. “Please, Lo.”

“Such a good girl,” Logan sighed as he held his base and slid inside you in a single smooth stroke. You bit back a moan as he bottomed out, trying your best to be mindful that the walls were almost certainly not soundproof. “Always so good for me.” Logan shuddered as he pulled back out, really letting you savor the thick drag of him inside you before slamming in once more. His reentrance made you hiccup and pull Logan even closer, as if even a centimeter of space between you was too much space.

As hard as you tried to, you couldn’t stop the moans that bubbled from your lips. Logan felt too good inside you and the idea of him wanting you so bad you were both still mostly clothed was driving you wild. An accidental and particularly loud moan escaped you when Logan hit you just right deep inside. Logan reached up and placed his palm over your mouth, his eyes still full of lust, but now a bit softer. “Shh, shh, I know baby,” he whispered, his hips never relenting in their pace. “You feel so fucking tight and perfect. And trust me, baby, I want to hear you scream so fucking bad. But we have to be quiet, ok?” You nodded and Logan grinned, moving his hand away. “I love you.”

“Love you,” you sighed before kissing him again, desperate for something to keep your mouth occupied. Logan continued slamming into you, his movement becoming more and more erratic. You knew he was close by all those little signs you’d learned over the last year and change- how his breathing got shallow and his fingers dug in deep, how he always bit down on his bottom lip right before he came.

“I’m close, princess,” Logan huffed. His eyebrows were pulling together, trying to hold it off for as long as he could. “Where do you want me?”

“We still going to lunch?” you asked in a breath, rocking your hips against his teasingly.

“Mhmm,” he said with a nod.

“Then you should probably come in my mouth, don’t you think?” you smiled. “I don’t know how comfortable it’d be sitting for an hour with your load dripping out of me.” You knew putting the visual in his head would just push him closer to the edge. Maybe it wasn’t playing fair, but you couldn’t resist teasing him.

“Fuck, fuck,” he groaned, hips snapping even faster. “Knees, baby. Please,” he whined and pulled out of you entirely, gripping tight at his base.

You felt so empty now without him, but quickly dropped off the desk in front of him, opening your mouth for him. Logan ran his hand almost tenderly along your jaw and rested his thumb on your chin, pulling your jaw down just enough for him to enter your mouth and watch as your lips wrapped around his head. You took him all the way to the back of your throat, swallowing him there for a moment before pulling back and flicking your tongue over his slit. That was all it took for Logan to let out a long sigh and spill into your mouth. You waited patiently for every drop before swallowing and releasing his now softening cock. Logan held his hands out to you and helped you back to your feet, immediately kissing you, chasing his own taste with his tongue. You always did love that part of his post-orgasm ritual.

“I wish you knew how sexy you look on your knees like that, swallowing like my perfect girl,” he mused as his fingers reached down and found your pulsing clit, putting just a little pressure and rubbing in small circles. You gasped at the contact and bucked your hips into his hand. With a smirk, Logan used his other hand to hike up your leg, opening you up to him a little more. Truthfully, you weren’t too far from climax yourself. As Logan continued to work you, you clung tightly to him, burying your face in his jacket to muffle the noises you wanted to make. You let Logan know you were close by clawing at his back, sinking even closer to him. “That’s it baby. Just let go,” he whispered.

“Can I come for you?” you asked, your request a little muffled, but Logan knew exactly what you said.

“Fuck, you better,” he growled, pressing down a little harder. The increased pressure and Logan’s encouragement was more than enough to push you over the edge. You gripped his jacket tightly and rode out your high on his fingers, finally going limp against him. Logan placed your foot back on the floor and held you steady as your legs regained the ability to work. Once he was convinced you could hold yourself up, he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a shit eating grin. “You good?”

“I’m good,” you smiled and leaned in to peck him sweetly. “I like this whole being able to fuck in your office because you’re the boss deal.”

“Oh, I’m loving that deal. I’m thinking next time, I can press you against the window and take you from behind,” he said nonchalantly, tucking himself back into his pants and smoothing out his jacket.

“It stinks like sex in here, though,” you said with an arched eyebrow. You checked your hair and makeup in the small mirror on the wall and touched up any spots that said ‘yes, I just let the CEO fuck me senseless in his office’.

“Good.” Logan kisses you once and hands you your bag. “Lunch, my dear?”

“Yes, please. Someone made me work up an appetite,” you teased. Logan couldn’t wipe the smug look off his face when he placed his hand on the small of your back and walked with you out to the reception area. You smiled at Chloe as you walk out and Logan took your hand, looking at you as he raised it to his lips, leaving a small kiss on the back of your hand.

“Have a nice lunch, Mr. Delos,” Chloe beamed.

“Thank you, Chloe. We will,” Logan smirked. “Oh, can you please forward any calls to my voicemail? I don’t think I’ll be back today.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, squeezing his hand.

“Mhmm.” Logan kissed you softly.

“Of course, Mr. Delos. Enjoy your afternoon,” Chloe blushed, looking on at your PDA. It must have been an odd sight, seeing Logan be affectionate with you publicly after months of keeping your relationship on the down low when you first got together. But now Delos was his, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t kiss you whenever and wherever he wanted.

Though you originally made a reservation for lunch, after very quick discussion, you opted for picking up Thai food from the little place on the way home and sharing it out on the deck. Logan had pulled the cushions off the outdoor furniture and made a little nest for the two of you to sit on, practically on top of each other, and feed each other bits of food when something was particularly good. He couldn’t help himself from kissing away the bit of green curry at the corner of your lips, which you told him was disgusting, but Logan only laughed and continued his attack.

Once you finished, boxes set aside in favor of you laying between Logan’s legs with your back to his chest, you melted against him and let your eyes slip closed against the afternoon sun.

“You ready for Wisconsin again?” you asked quietly, tracing a random pattern on his forearm wrapped around your chest. On Wednesday, the two of you would be leaving for your hometown for Emily and Elliot’s wedding. It felt surreal that the day was finally approaching after all of the planning you knew Emily had done. She’d been blowing up your phone for the last couple weeks with questions and complaints and asking for your opinion on damn near everything. You loved your sister with your whole heart, but you were ready to get this wedding over and done with.

“Yeah, I’m getting excited.” Logan kissed your shoulder. “It’ll be nice to get away for a little bit. Not worry about LA or Delos drama.”

“You need a vacation already? I could have sworn you just started the job today,” you teased, poking him gently with your elbow.

“Be nice,” he laughed. “Is it a crime to want to jet set with my beautiful princess?”

“It’s a crime you consider going to Milwaukee jet setting.”

“I liked Milwaukee!”

“It’s ok,” you sighed. You turned in his arms to lay on his chest, looking up at his face. “But I want to go on real vacation. Like to Hawaii or Fiji or something. Em’s wedding is not vacation. She’s going to work me the whole time! You’ve seen her scary ass texts to me.”

“Aw, my poor girl,” Logan pouted, kissing your forehead. “Well, we should go on real vacation. I’m thinking somewhere with a cabana and private beach. Somewhere we don’t have to put clothes on the whole time. We can just, I don’t know, get drunk and fuck and pet sea turtles.”

“I like all those things.” You nod your head, smiling as you watch Logan mentally plan a tropical vacation for the two of you.

Just as he opened his mouth to continue on with the fantasy he was cooking up, you both heard the front door close and someone walking through the house. There were only three people with keys to the house, and two of them were tangled together on the deck. So it wasn’t a huge surprise to see Juliet pop her head out the sliding glass door and push her sunglasses back over her eyes.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” she asked before sitting in one of the table chairs.

“Not yet,” Logan grinned.

“Gross.”

“Well, then perhaps you shouldn’t just let yourself in without notice, hmm?” Logan arched an eyebrow and Juliet just rolled her eyes. It was still odd to see her without her ring. Since the day you’d met, she had an obnoxiously huge engagement ring fixed on her finger. But, that was the first thing to go after Logan chased William out of the party.

“Ignore him,” you said, adjusting to sit up in Logan’s lap so you could actually talk to Juliet. “How are you holding up?”

“Is it weird to say I’m a little relieved?” She bit down on her bottom lip. “I think I loved him on some level, but having him and dad fuck off and to finally be able to breathe on my own? Kinda feels good.”

“I’m glad there’s a silver lining,” you smiled. Juliet nodded and managed an only slightly watery smile. “Were you just in the neighborhood and couldn’t resist our company?”

“Actually, I’m just here to ask a favor,” she laughed. “I know you guys are going to be out of town for a bit and I was wondering if I can stay here while you’re gone? William is supposed to be getting his shit this weekend and I’d rather not be there if I don’t have to be.”

“Yeah. Yeah of course,” Logan said immediately. He didn’t consider his answer for a second. “We won’t be back until Monday, right?” You nodded in confirmation. “You’re free to stay as long as you need to.” Logan was happy to accommodate any request if it got William out of his life and the lives of the people he loved.

“Thanks, guys. I appreciate it. I’ll make sure not to open any random drawers,” she winked.

“That’s probably a good idea,” Logan smiled and you shoved at his shoulder. “Really though, it’s no problem.”

“Cool. Well, I’ll leave you to do…whatever it was you guys were doing.” Juliet got up and gave you both a small salute. “Fly safe, fam.”

With that, she let herself out and you were left alone again, lounging in the slowly sinking sun. Logan was leaning back with his eyes closed, breaths even as he clung to you. He looked peaceful and actually relaxed, which was a rare sight recently. He’d gone through a lot in the last year and a half; maybe now he could finally enjoy some well-earned rest.

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