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reiderwriter · 1 year

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More Than Words

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader

Requested: yes

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.

You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!

Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”

It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.

“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.

“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.

“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.

“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”

“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.

“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.

“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”

“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.

“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”

“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.

“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.

“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.

–X–

Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.

At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.

“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.

“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.

“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.

“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.

“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”

“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”

“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.

“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.

“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.

“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”

“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.

“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.

“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”

With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.

“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”

–X–

The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.

“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.

“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”

“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.

“What was our first date?” He asked.

“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”

“What else have we done together?”

“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”

“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.

You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.

“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”

He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.

“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.

“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”

“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.

You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.

But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.

“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.

The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.

“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”

“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.

“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”

“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.

“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”

“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.

“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.

“Mom, how did you know…”

“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,

“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.

–X–

The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.

Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.

What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?

So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.

You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.

“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.

You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.

“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.

“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.

He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”

“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.

An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.

“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.

“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.

“I don’t pick my nails!”

“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.

“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”

“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”

“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.

“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.

“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.

“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”

“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”

“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.

“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”

“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”

“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.

“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”

“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”

“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.

“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”

“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.

“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.

“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.

“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.

“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”

“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”

“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.

–X–

“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.

“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.

“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.

“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.

You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.

“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.

“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”

You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.

“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.

“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”

“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.

“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.

“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.

“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.

“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.

“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.

“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.

“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.

“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.

–X–

You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.

To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.

“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.

“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.

“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.

“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.

“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.

“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.

His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.

“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”

“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.

–X–

The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.

You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.

So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.

You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.

You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.

You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.

“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.

“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.

“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.

“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”

“Three.”

“Three what?”

“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.

“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.

“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”

“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”

“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”

You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.

“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.

You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.

“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.

“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.

You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.

“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”

Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.

“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.

“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.

“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.

“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”

“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.

“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.

“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.

“Yes?”

“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.

But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.

“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.

He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.

“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.

“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.

“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.

It never did.

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the-californicationist · 2 months

Text

Solomon's Seal

John Price works hard to maintain his self-discipline, but sometimes he loses his grip on that fiery temper of his. When he needs help to feel in control again, he turns to you and your impeccable rope skills. You try to keep things professional, but that proves challenging for both of you. After all, John is just a friend, one of your best clients… so why do you keep imagining him as more?

TW: rope bondage, femdom, crying, emotional hurt/comfort, female genitals. Please check AO3 link below for full tag list.

Big huge thank you and kudos to the amazing and beautiful @gemmahale for her ideas and support on this one! Love you, bestie.

You had cleared your schedule the moment you hung up the phone with him. His voice had sounded so strained, like he was struggling to say the words. You knew that, sometimes, John Price’s work asked too much of him, but this time, he seemed so far beyond his usual level of need that you decided it was better to play it safe and cancel all of your other clients for the week.

As you cleaned your studio, you made additional preparations. Something in your gut was telling you to prepare for the worst. You did your best to remember what he liked. No music, low lights, a soft fan for a bit of a breeze, and jute ropes — none of the synthetics in sight. You eyed your collection; eight hanks should have been enough, but you grabbed four more from the back room just to be sure.

You never really pried into his life during his visits, knowing there was probably much he couldn’t or wouldn’t tell you. He had given you just enough information for you to understand the basics, and you had scoured the internet with those small clues to uncover the rest. At best, he was a soldier, handling the expected dangers and stressors of the job. At worst, he was a literal weapon, aimed and fired at His Majesty’s darkest enemies; a demon hunter meant only for darkness and secrets and pain.

When he had come to you last November, bruised and battered, craving your particular set of skills, you had surmised that it was the latter. Sometimes, when you caught a glimpse of the news, you looked at the bombed buildings of Urzikstan for a sign of him, hoping you wouldn’t see one. When there was a battle lost or won, plastered across the front page of the news, you wondered if he had been there in the thick of it, protecting the world from the monsters that ravaged that land, keeping them from your privileged doorstep.

You checked your clock. He’d be in from Heathrow within the hour. You got to work in the wet room, digging around for the soaps he liked best. His favorite bathing oil was a complex, spicy mix of coriander, basil, and bergamot scents. You’d never admit it to him, but you used it when you found yourself thinking about him, unable to get your equally complex, spicy warrior out of your mind.

John was so different from most of your clients. Many people who came to you were usually seeking something other than what you were prepared to give them. Half of your customers came for sex, for which you added them to your blacklist. The other half was a mixed bag seeking humiliation or reassurance, trying to use you and your art as an alternative to counseling or as a way to explore their kinks. They usually didn’t return after they experienced the level of your craft. You did have a handful of repeat clients who appreciated the practice itself, but they usually had their own partners to play with. You were just a novelty to them. An escape.

Working as a traditional Bakushi was no fleeting hobby, not for you anyway. For you, it was a spiritual calling. John was one of the only clients who understood that and actively wanted to learn more. He had asked for stretching routines, breathing exercises, and advice on meditation. Your soldier was the real deal, even if he couldn’t remember any of the terminology to save his life. You were just happy he had managed to adopt the word shibari into his vocabulary. You could forgive the rest. He didn’t need to know the names of the knots or the positions of the body in order to benefit from his practice.

Your doorbell rang. You took a breath to calm yourself. You needed to be centered for John. Yes, you were excited to see him, but he needed you to be his rock right now, and you needed to push your own desires out of your mind.

The door cracked open, and there he stood. He was just as you remembered him, but he looked like he’d been through hell. Those bright blue eyes were sporting a dark, purple shiner on his left orbital bone. He had cut his lip across the top and bottom, a red line still marring the sensitive flesh. John had cut down his beard to a more manageable level, but his hair was long and unkempt. What worried you most were the dark red welts he wore around his neck. It looked like ropeburn.

“John,” you smiled softly, “So good to see you again. Please come in.”

The formalities of such a polite greeting seemed silly to you after what you had been through together. Sessions with John were always… intense.

He stepped into your foyer, looking at you like he had missed you, but you didn’t allow yourself to give in to the fantasy. He needed you to be professional, and you had a job to do.

You took his hand and led him into your sitting room, offered him a glass of water, and sat beside him. He held your hand in his, refusing to let go, playing with the small bones in your middle finger absentmindedly. You smiled at him, enjoying the quiet of his presence, letting yourself take in these silent moments, unwilling to break the spell of peace until absolutely necessary.

He seemed content to bask in the tranquility as well, happy to rub your delicate knuckle back and forth with his thumb, letting his eyes explore you, lingering on your long, silk robe, his gaze burning into your sternum at the join of your breasts.

“How can I help you, John?”

He took a long breath through his nose, his eyes diverting back down to your connected hands; shame, regret.

“I lost control, again.”

You had heard those words from him before. When he first found you, he told you about his temper. He hadn’t given you any details, but apparently he had hurt an enemy beyond what was necessary. Something he had done had changed him. He wanted to be different, to be more even-keeled, so he’d come to you for help.

“The same as last time?” You asked, hoping it would be better than you suspected.

“Worse,” he looked up at you and flashed a tight-lipped, bitter smile.

You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back.

“Tell me what you need,” you ran your other hand across his wounded cheek, watching as the shine of his eyes gleamed in the low light.

His emotions were at war all over his face. His wet lashes, the twitch of his lip, his darting, avoidant eyes; you could almost hear him fighting in his mind. You put a stop to it, scooting closer to him on the deep sofa, holding his stubbled chin in your hand,

“Hey, you know you can tell me. If it’s within my power to give it to you, you know that I will.”

“I know, love,” he nodded his head, “I think you might try to talk me out of it, is all.”

You stayed silent, waiting for him to work it out. Rebuilding your trust together after some time apart wasn’t something to be rushed. Finally, after a few moments of thought, he studied your face and admitted his desires,

“I want it all. Just like last spring, but more. I need more.”

Your eyes widened before you could stop yourself. You remembered last spring. Vividly. In fact, you had thought about that appointment more times than you would ever admit. He had pushed himself so far, he’d trusted you so deeply, and you’d watched him heal from his wounds. He’d found a new kind of peace. You remember holding him, still bound, both of you sprawled across the floor, sweaty and grinning, your foreheads pressed together, sharing in his joy.

But, you also knew that him wanting more meant that you would be restraining him from head to toe. He’d done arm and chest bindings with you, and in the spring, you’d put him in a single-leg frog tie. But, you’d never done full body work with him. For all of his progress, John still had issues letting his power be taken from him. He wanted to be in control, almost to the point of obsession, and it was only when he was in your ropes that he was able to practice internal control over himself without threat of judgment or danger. He could examine his temper in your safe setting, testing it like a scientist, finding new strengths within himself, mental hurdles to overcome.

However, you worried about what his mental state would be like when he was fully at your mercy. Had he ever been at anyone’s mercy? You doubted it.

He could see you rolling over the problem in your mind, watching as you thought it through, imagining the possibilities.

“What d’ya say, love? Think we can try?” His eyes met yours, and you nodded.

“Yes, let’s try.”

“I might… uh,” he hesitated, clearly unsure of how his next request might be received, “I’m not sure how to say this, but I might need you… after. I know that’s not what you do, but after last spring, I thought you might make an exception.”

You were fully aware of what he meant. Last spring, laying there sweaty and swimming in euphoria together, you had broken your own rule. You’d let your body slide over John’s naked, tied form, and you’d rubbed his cock across your belly and on top of your pussy, sharing an orgasm together. It was reckless of you, and fully outside of the scope of your role, but it was what was right for you both at the time. He hadn’t asked for a repeat performance, always the perfect gentleman, until now.

You nodded,

“Thank you for asking. We’ll see how it goes, and I’ll check in again at the end. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You moved to leave the comfort of the sofa, but he caught your hand,

“Can we start now? Just a bit. If that’s alright.”

“Alright,” you agreed, “Any new injuries I should know about?”

His face stretched into a boyish smile,

“Too many to count.”

You shook your head, ducking into your studio to grab one hank of rope,

“You’re the only one who gets a pass on that, you know.”

You watched his eyes dart to your hands as you untied the bundle, looping the rope end over end, making your first bight. His energy was electric, but you could see something dark slithering underneath.

“I’ll start now, but you need to talk to me. What makes it worse now, John?”

You stood in the middle of the room, watching as he moved into position in front of you. You waited patiently, not needing to give him instructions. John knew what you wanted from him.

He avoided your question, going through the motions of preparing his body for your work. He tugged off his coat and tee shirt, raking it over his broad back, and you tried to ignore the aching red marks that littered his scarred skin. Then, he unbuckled his belt, letting the metal tip clatter and clang in the quiet room, dropping his jeans and peeling off his shoes and socks. Naked, he folded his clothes and lay them to the side. Then, he found his neutral position, kneeling at your feet, palms flat on his thighs, head bowed as if in prayer.

“Hands behind your head, palm to palm,” you spoke your first command, listening to the timbre of your voice and knowing it was different. You were changing into the person that he needed; someone strong, unyielding.

He complied, but he looked a little surprised. You’d never asked him for this position before, but you knew it would get his attention. He would feel the vulnerability of it immediately, his sensitive ribs and armpits exposed.

You started your work, tying his wrists carefully, making sure to leave the proper amount of room, running the rope, rubbing between the soft jute and his hairy skin to check and double check it for safety. As soon as you had one wrist bound, you moved to the other and heard him begin to talk.

“I nearly lost one of my men last week. Good bloke. Took a bullet for me, so I broke the rules.”

“Which rules?”

“All of them,” he looked up at you, rueful and yet unrepentant.

“Would you do it differently,” you admired the smoothness of his wrist, watching as his pulse beat just under the thin skin, rushing through blue veins, “If you could go back in time?”

“No,” Price’s voice was like that of a beast. A dragon. It was a short, simple word, but within it, you understood exactly the feeling of vengeance he was carrying within it. No, he would not go back and change his actions. He would repeat them. That much was clear.

“It doesn’t sound to me like you were out of control, then,” you looped the knots of his wrists around a temporary harness, simple and quick. This was just for now. You had bigger plans for him after you bathed.

John’s mouth turned up into a wry smile, thinking about your assessment, then he said,

“You might be right, love. But, I’m here. I needed this. Needed you. There must be a reason I feel so bloody lost.”

“Let’s find your way back, then. Stand up.”

You led him by the end of the rope to the wet room. The off-white tiles glowed yellow in the candlelight you had prepared, and as you turned on the tap, the room filled with steam. You watched John’s face become indecipherable as you untied the ribbon of your robe, letting the silk pool at your feet, stepping into the shower before him.

You pointed to the small stool in the middle of the wide shower,

“Sit.”

It was a huge installation. During the build process in your renovated space, you’d asked for two large rainshower heads and a massage wand with a flat drain in the center. John knelt in between the two heads, but well within reach of the wand. You switched it on, watching the water jerk and flow through the metal hose, holding it towards your chest and out of his eyes.

You started with his feet, washing them with only warm water first before moving the wand up his legs, wetting his body in stages. You didn’t use your hands yet, but you were eager to. John was quite the specimen, and you felt yourself flush as your eyes explored his body, lingering on places they really shouldn’t.

You were adamant that you were a sex worker who didn’t have sex. You tried to make it abundantly clear that your clients were paying for shibari practices only, and that you did not do… happy endings. Other than your encounter with John, your clients orgasmed alone, and you went to great lengths to ensure it remained that way. But, here was your weakness, asking you to wash him while he was in your knots, warning you that he might crave a sensual aftercare scene, that he’d been thinking about you. It made your skin flush, and even though you were comfortable in your own skin, his obvious desire for you in such a carnal way made you hyper-aware of your bare flesh.

The wand sat back in its hook, water paused, and the only sounds were the quiet drippings against the tile, a slight sucking from the drain, your breathing. You scraped the soap into your palm, making sure to lather it into a rich, thick foam. You stood, walking around him to his back, and began with his bound hands and arms, rubbing his warm, swollen muscles with your palms, spreading the suds over him liberally.

A long, animalistic groan shuddered through John’s lungs, echoing in the bath. It set your nerves on fire to know that you were giving him such pleasure. You wanted more.

You moved to his back, massaging the scented soap into his body, working his skin firmly to promote his bloodflow. As you made pass after pass, his moans became steady and breathy, his mouth hanging open, unable to fight the relaxation he was experiencing.

You washed his legs and feet, needing to bend over him in order to reach the length of his huge thighs. In doing so, your bare breasts came in contact with his back, only light tapping at first, swaying forward as you washed him. You could tell that he could feel you, and he froze, his noises of pleasure turning into hitched breaths, shocked and inaudible.

Your clients usually washed themselves, but John had asked for special treatment, and this was a new experience for you, too. You tamped down on your excitement, but you couldn’t hide your nature. As you leaned forward to wash his knees and shins, ankles and feet, you had to press your soft tits and contrastingly taut nipples against him, over and over, like two inkless stamps, leaving impressions on his wet skin.

Standing again, you waited to give yourself a minute to compose your emotions. The tips of your hair were damp, and your chest was shining from his soapy torso. You tried to wipe the shine away, not wanting to draw attention to yourself. He needed to be looking inwardly, finding his deeper meaning. Staring at your gleaming, sensitive tits was not what he was paying for, no matter what your biology might have wanted.

You stepped around to his front, and you marveled at how big his frame truly was. While sitting, even though the stool was low, his eyes were directly in line with your furry mons. If he only tilted his chin up a little, he could lick…

Your mind clamped down on that thought like a vice. You breathed steady, kneeling before him and reapplying the soap to your hands, trying to refocus yourself on your work.

That was proving more difficult by the moment. Washing his broad chest was like something out of a dream. His nipples were so responsive, and now you could see the way his face twisted with pleasure as your hands massaged your serums into his skin. Every swipe over his pink nubs make him gasp in a new pitch, his brow furrowed with desperation, but his eyes stayed pinned to the tile, just like he was meant to. You expected all of your subs to avert their gaze, to concentrate on their mind, and you made it clear that the practice would stop if they lacked the discipline to do so.

You had never been more grateful for that standard, because if John’s sharp, pale blue eyes found yours right now, you might not be able to keep yourself from losing your own control.

You stepped out of the shower for a moment, grabbing the tie from your robe, slipping it out of its loops. Then, as a way to anchor yourself, you wrapped it tightly around your wrist, twisting the knots you made so that they would face inwardly, the discomfort reminding you of your duties as his dominant. It would work for now, you hoped.

Already, you could feel yourself coming back online, as if someone had splashed cold water in your face. That was, until you turned back to John and saw the last part of your process.

You peered down into his lap, hands full of creamy suds, ready to wash his belly and his nethers, only to discover that he was as hard as steel. His cock flagged tall and curved, tapping on his abdomen, far beyond his bellybutton, giving you a reminder of what was plaguing your dreams. It was beautiful. The uncut skin of his shaft folded around the rim of his ruddy head, eager to be slicked down so that you could tease the tip of him. His balls were round and full, hanging as he sat on the edge of the bench, and all you could think about was what delight was stored within them, ready to burst.

You focused on your knots, letting your one ribbon keep you grounded, and you finished the job. Your hands rubbed soap along his belly, fingers dancing through the thick happy trail of his lower abs. He was built like a workhorse, and although he was fit, his body was well-fed and wide, his core wide and protruding with his strength, thicker as he sat on the stool. There was no bodybuilder’s trim waist. He was all power, heavy and built for unimaginable destruction. You’d never seen his equal, nor a man even close to his immense form. If someone had told you John was one of Zeus’ many bastards, roaming the earth immortal and inhumanly large, you might have believed them.

“I’m going to wash the rest of your body. Remind me of your safeword so that I know you can use it,” you commanded softly, hearing your own voice bounce around the hollow room.

John did not meet your eyes, fully committed to his submission, but you could see his cock pulse with anticipation. He spoke quietly but clearly,

“Red.”

“Louder,” you instructed.

“Red,” he obeyed.

“Again.”

“Red.”

“Again.”

“Red.”

“Good. Stand up.”

You needed to make sure he was ready to proceed. John, experienced as he was, could get stuck in his sub-space just like anyone. So, you made him practice, let his mouth feel the word again and again, primed and ready to be used.

Finally, you reached for his genitals, washing his cock and being mindful of where you spread the soap, scrubbing ever so gently down his ballsack, and then swiping across his cleft, washing through his legs to clean every last bit of him.

Then, trying to be almost clinical about it, you washed him off, cleansing his lower extremities to ensure his comfort before hosing down the rest of him.

Finally, you shut off the water and began to towel him dry, wiping at his dripping skin, trying to ignore how his body’s heat seemed to radiate onto your bare body, inviting you to lean just a little closer, to press into that lovely burn.

But, you didn’t. You discarded the towel and untied your wrist cuff, leaving it with your robe. You reached behind John’s head and unbound the center knot of his ties, allowing him to bring his wrists to the front of his body like handcuffs. You used the end to lead him like a prisoner through your space, parading him to the studio quickly and quietly, eager to begin the main event.

Once inside the studio space, you finished untying his wrists, setting him free once again. He looked down at them, running his fingertip across the raised ridges left by the ropes before dropping his arms to his sides, waiting for your instruction and guidance.

You knelt next to your basket of rope, retrieving a hank from the stack and unwinding it. His eyes darted to your hands, watching you prepare it just for him, like a dog expecting a bone.

“Lay in the center, arms at your sides,” you told him and watched as he followed your instruction. He was less hard now, more relaxed than before, but before long, as he lay there letting his excitement build, he strengthened again, his prick bowing up onto his stomach, flushed and full.

You got to work. Your first goal was to put each of his legs in an advanced frog tie, turning his body on its side so that you could bind his ankle to his thigh, first one leg and then the other. Once his initial ropes were in place, you checked their tension, moving two fingers around and around, trying not to notice his mounting enthusiasm every time you brushed along his inner thigh. Then, once you were satisfied, you helped him into a kneeling position, pushing a thin buckwheat pillow under his knees for comfort.

He shook his head,

“Don’t need it, love. I wanna feel the floor. The pain… helps.”

You eyed him, turning your lips into a soft grin,

“If this were a normal session, I would give that to you,” your tone got his attention, and he did look at your face now, needing to see your intent, “But, what I’m about to put you through is something different. Trust me, John.”

“I trust you.”

He settled into the pillow, returning to his meditative position. You took his hands in yours and held them between your two palms, squeezing them tight, binding them without rope for a moment. Then, you began to breathe in deep, cyclical patterns, over and over. He breathed with you, and you saw the tension leave his face. Whatever had happened to John on this last tour was plaguing him, and you slowed things down to give him a chance to control himself again.

He breathed in with you, and his air rushed out with yours, washing over your skin like a summer wind, keeping your body responsive to him. Every now and then, as you meditated together, you caught his eyes fixed on something other than the floor. He was staring into the darkness between your legs, shadowed by your body and covered with curly hair, hidden from him in plain sight. It was hard for you to focus, knowing he had his mind on your body, but eventually, he averted his gaze, focusing inwardly again.

Finally, when you felt his heart rate slow, you used another hank of rope to create a short waist belt, applying more tension than usual as you fed it along his hips, knowing his thick ass and thighs could take the pressure. Still, you were adamant about safety, watching him every moment for discoloration or discomfort.

He was fidgeting now that the tighter straps were on him, and you saw him closing off his stance, bringing his knees closer together. You caught him, and used one of the loops on his thigh to pull his legs apart again,

“Spread them. Let the pressure flow through your belly and out of your center.”

“Aye,” he sighed, settling into the pain and doing his best to spread his knees wider, concentrating on the feeling. His cock was leaking now, leaving little dark marks on the canvas of his knee bolster, bobbing between his legs as he spread them wider, shining and wet.

You grabbed another rope, trying to hone in on your work,

“I’m going to bind you in almost the same style we practiced last spring, but it will be modified to provide more of that challenge you’ve been looking for. Place your hands behind your back, palms on your elbows, if you can.”

Not every sub had the flexibility to obey, but John did. He’d been doing his stretches. As he assumed his position, his arms’ placement made his chest broad and high, stretching his pecs open while his back was pinned, the skin folding in on itself as his shoulder blades folded back like featherless wings. You threaded your rope over his shoulders, centering the bight at the back of his neck for an anchor point. It was essential that no pressure was applied to the front of his throat, and you were ever-mindful of the fresh injuries that marred his neck.

“What happened here?” You asked, letting your finger pass under a rope that lay on his injured skin, making sure it was loose and gentle. You would give him tightness elsewhere.

He was hesitant to answer you, but he shrugged,

“Bastard came up behind me. Before I could react, he had the wire around my throat.”

“Did you escape on your own?” You pried, trying to keep him talking as you started the long process of his arm binding.

“Aye. He was so busy trying to choke me, he forgot I still had free hands and plenty of bloody knives in my belt.”

You praised him for his openness,

“Good.”

“Is it?” Now, you heard the doubt in his tone. It made you pause, but you simply continued with your ties, not allowing him to know that you were challenged by his cynicism or regret or whatever darkness was making him lean on his fear and anger instead of his peace.

You left his question unanswered, allowing it to hang in the air between you, forcing his mind to dwell on it. You needed him to answer it within himself before you went opening more portals to other emotions and struggles.

You added more and more rope to his binding, and when you finished, you pulled the cord forward across his chest, resting it below his nipples, making sure to graze them as you checked your tension, enjoying the trembling shudder that came from him as your reward. It was the most advanced harness you had performed in a long time. This one was unforgiving. He couldn’t twist left or right. His shoulders were forced down and back, shrugged tight against his body, and his arms were completely powerless. He could pull and heave to try and move his hands away from his back, but there was no escape.

You sat across from John once more, holding his chin up so that he would know you expected him to look at you, and you asked him,

“Do you have any pain or tingling?”

“No.”

“Say your safeword to me one time.”

“Red.”

“The next step will be the final rope, and then we can sit together for as long as you need. Do you want to continue?”

His eyes stared into yours with a bright clarity, and he answered softly,

“Yes.”

You could tell that he was slipping deeper into his sub-space. His eyes softened, but his body shivered. If you brushed your fingers along his ribs, his muscles would kick and jerk. Anything harder, like a deep tissue massage against those huge thighs and he whined for you, smokey and gravelly, full of feral need.

You moved behind him, taking a rope and placing it across his forehead, using your hand to tilt his head back until his eyes were staring at the ceiling. Then, you carefully crafted a face harness, making sure there was not too much pressure on his more delicate bones while still limiting his range of motion so that he was forced to keep his chin pointed up.

You connected the rig to an anchor point on his wrists, and then you took your position in front of him again, staring at his bearded jaw and injured neck, watching his body struggle to relax into a very uncomfortable pose.

“Breathe for me, John,” you knew it was a lot.

Controlling someone’s body was one thing. Even Price had experienced tight knots before, but when you took control over the head, that animal instinct all humans keep deep within themselves tended to come alive. It was a primal fear. You watched John’s chest rise and fall, his stress tumbling around in his breaths as he tried to stay calm.

You reached out both of your hands and rested them on his chest, feeling the way he jerked at your touch, overstimulated and sensitive. You pet his fur, the thick brown hair that dusted his body, soft from the oils you had used. As he breathed, you felt it moving in his lungs, and you let your fingertips ghost over his nipples, rubbing them with the backs of your knuckles, admiring the way they perked up at your attention, puffy and swollen from the unforgiving rope that made them bulge outwardly.

“Mmf–fuck,” he coughed, his eyes knitted into a worried sort of agony.

You smiled, bringing your own nipples towards his chest, letting your soft peaks brush against his hard ones, moving your breasts up and down, drawing little circles and crosses over his chest.

You knew he couldn’t see what you were doing, but he could feel it. He knew, instinctively, and it was sending him into a drunken daze. The pleasure of your touch combined with the pain of your ropes pushed him beyond where he had been before, and perhaps it was past where you had dared to go as well.

“Control your breaths, John. There is nothing else you are responsible for. I’ve taken it all from you. You need to breathe and to spread your peace through your mind. Focus.”

He didn’t respond, but his breathing stilled, and his eyes closed. You removed your touch from him and let him bask in the sensations he was experiencing.

Minutes passed, then more. It had been almost an hour, and you were admiring the way he stayed strong, at first. You reached out to him to anchor him when he seemed like he needed help, caressing his arms and back, massaging the muscles that must be burning white hot by now. He was much more determined than any other sub you controlled. If anyone could handle this difficult position, it was him. But, he was not invincible. You saw the way his breathing became labored, and his cock, which was losing and regaining its hardness as time went on, throbbed from its struggle.

“Do you want to continue?” You asked again, touching him as you had before, moving your hands from his chest to his belly, petting him rhythmically, avoiding his phallus but touching everything else around it. You knew it must have been teasing him, forcing him to imagine how your hands might feel if they reached just a little further.

“Yes,” he admitted, his voice strained due to the position of his jaw, and you watched the bulge in his neck bob up and down.

More time slipped by. Your hands had wandered down his legs and across the soft pads of his feet. His body was buzzing with the energy he was spending in order to stay the course. He must have been far beyond simple pain at this point. You remembered a similar scene you’d experienced, and this was much longer than you ever expected to be in it. If John was anything, he was stubborn.

But eventually, you heard him speak,

“We knew it was a trap before we went in. I was reckless, and angry, and I wanted my fuckin’ revenge.”

He paused but you just kept up with your massage, rubbing him down, letting him know you were still there. He continued,

“That bastard was gonna shoot me,” John’s voice cracked from his despair, and you saw shining tears stream down his temples and into his hair, “It was me that he wanted. Then, my… one of my men, he jumped right in front of the gun and took the bullet for me. I thought he was dead. I thought I was, too. But, after… I left my team. Charged in alone. I did things to those men that I'll have to think about for the rest of my bloody days. I became… something else. Something… “

You wiped the tears from his face, petting his cheeks, letting your thumbs brush over his lips gently. He sighed, and you could feel his breath on your fingers,

“It wasn’t right. I knew better, I just wanted them to bloody pay. Wasn’t sure if I was going home with a fuckin’ medal or my papers. Didn’t care.”

There was a long pause, and then, his voice became small. His eyes were still fixed on the ceiling, but they were wide, full of fear and uncertainty,

“Am I a monster? Is that… Is that the real me? Who am I? What am I?”

You leaned forward and planted delicate kisses across John’s stretched neck, licking and sucking at his skin in very light, careful touches, tasting his wounds and trying to heal them.

You sat back, removing yourself from his body, letting him sit alone for a moment before you said,

“You are a human being. You are capable of love and hate, pleasure and pain. You might feel like you need to answer for some of your violence, but your own humanity is not defined by your actions. You believed that was the path you needed to take. You destroyed dangerous men before they destroyed you. That is not a monster. A monster destroys the innocent. Were those men innocent?”

“No,” he snarled, full of spit and ire.

“They made their own choices. They controlled their own lives. Your perception of your own control is too broad, John. You couldn’t save them. They didn’t need saving. You did. It was you who needed to be saved.”

“I should’ve been able to stop… to stop… stop killing. I couldn’t. I needed them to burn for what they did to my fuckin’ soldier. To my friends! Fuck!”

John was gasping now, too full of emotion to control his breath, releasing his stress in deep, bellowing grunts. You unfastened his head harness immediately, freeing him. The instant he could move, he let his head fall forward and placed his cheek on your breast, stretching himself as far as he could, hoping you would be there to catch him.

And you were. You held him in your arms, wrapping your own across his many knots, feeling the fibers of his ties and the smooth warmth of his body, separate but unified. You could feel his wet cheek upon your skin, his anger rolling off of him in waves. He was letting out each breath as an exhaled hiss, the fire in his eyes at full peak, a blazing rage that seemed like it would suffocate him.

You picked up his head in your hands, resting your forehead on his and told him,

“Let it go. Just like that. Scream. Let it out of you, John. Forgive yourself.”

He let himself go for a moment, howling like a wild boar, full of unnatural rage and pain. You heard his shouts and tucked them away from your heart, keeping them for later, choosing to just let him express it and have his crashing waves of feeling wash over you, but you refused to drown in it. He still needed you.

“Do you forgive me?” His plea was that of a boy, innocent and achingly pure.

“I forgive you,” you replied without hesitation, “Forgive yourself, now.”

He shook his head back and forth, rubbing his face on yours, bitter and despondent,

“I can’t…”

“I’m not asking you to. I’m telling you to,” you barked, grabbing him at the base of his skull by his hair, forcing his head back into that same bent position, holding him by force, “Trust me, John. Say it out loud. I forgive myself. Say it. C’mon.”

“I… forgive...”

“C’mon. I know you can do this,” you used both hands to hold his head under your control, your chests pressed together, your breathing equal and ragged, both of you pulled to the end of your abilities.

“I forgive myself.”

“Again!” You gasped. You tugged at his nape, forcing him to arch his back with what little movement he still had access to.

He grunted in response, breathing heavy, each exhale a guttural shout,

“I forgive myself.”

“Good. So good. Let it out. Use the pain; let it wash you clean.”

You let his head come forward, and you saw a new man staring back at you. Before you knew what was happening, you felt your lips crash together with John’s, sliding along his mouth, tasting him and being tasted by him. His tongue slipped into the hollow of your palate, folding and twisting for more and more control, taking you into him as much as he could manage. Then, he pulled away abruptly, resting his forehead against yours again,

“I’m sorry. I just… I feel…” You watched him search for the words, “I feel like I’m back. It’s been so long, but I can feel myself again.”

“What do you need?”

“I need you,” he tilted his head, exhausted, sitting back on his heels, his face a serene picture of peace, “I need you to touch me, like this. Please.”

You looked at him for a moment and then moved your hands between his legs, finding his warm rod waiting to be held. As soon as your fingers touched him, his whole body convulsed, and he cried out at the sensation.

You began to rub his shaft with long, slow strokes, avoiding his head for now, finding a nice, easy rhythm, encouraging John to match your breathing. He did, stealing kisses when your faces were near one another, and eventually, you were nose to nose, sharing your breaths again, listening to the rush of air and the wet slick sound of his tacky precome being spread all over his length.

You reached behind him and grabbed another bolster, putting the soft pad behind his back. Slowly, you helped him lay down onto it, knowing his arms would be crushed by his weight, but making sure the stress was something he could stand. His legs were spread wide, fully pliant and open to you, and you sat between them, bringing your hands back to his center, working his curved shaft up and down, watching as his belly filled with air, expanding from his breaths, only to collapse again, the muscles within him clenching and releasing in an undulating pattern of lust and need.

“Oh, fuck,” he bit his lip, wrenching his eyes shut, “Please… I need… Bloody hell, I need you, love. Please.”

“Are you sure, John?” You tried to check in with him, ignoring your own desire to immediately fulfill his wish, your pussy swollen and dripping in anticipation.

“Yes. I want you to take me. Please.”

His eyes looked up at you, his body bent and bowed, sweet and desperate for you, looking to you for his pleasure.

Carefully, you straddled him, feeding his head between your legs, sighing with joy as his tip slotted into the soft divot of your hole. He couldn’t thrust up into you. In fact, he couldn’t participate at all. You were the only one who could bring him pleasure or bring him pain, and that thought made your head rush, making you dizzy with desire, knowing that this man, a ruthless killer, mysterious and brutal, steady and kind, all of what he was — he was helpless beneath you.

As you sank down onto his girthy tip, your body ached from the stretch. It was an effort to fit him inside of you, and you breathed through it, wanting to push yourself flush to his hips. When you met his warm root, you shared a loud moan together, the relief overwhelming you both.

Then, you used your hips to make grinding, wide circles, churning his cock within your core, making yourself even more soaked, feeling your movements sending repeated signals to your cunt to make more and more slick come. It seemed endless, and it pooled out of you, matting his hair and drowning his dick in hot, sticky fluid.

He was grunting softly at the apex of each circle of your hips, his voice hoarse and full of want. You heard him wanting more, wanting you to hump him up and down, to slide yourself along his cock from root to tip. But, you were in charge, and you set the pace. So, you continued, around and around and around in an impossible spiral, using your hands to play with his nipples, pinching them cruelly, positioning them under the tight rope to make them ache to be free.

“Ungh, fuck! You’re fuckin’ soaked, love. Feels so bloody good.”

You smiled down at him, refusing to take his bait, knowing he was beyond ready for more.

Sure enough, he began to beg you, his skin flushed and his heart beating hard from being edged by your grinding,

“Will you fuck me… please? Just… I need… fuck, I need more. Fuck me, please! Oh, fuck…”

“Shh. Be good for me, John. Trust me.”

You stayed the course, rocking your hips around his base, never letting him thrust in and out, just winding yourself around him like a tight spool, pushing him to his breaking point. He felt so good inside of you, and his cock was so deep, you could feel the turgid body of his shaft if you pressed down on your lower belly, your fingers finding his outline through your skin and muscles and fat, your hands making indentions in your flesh, teasing him from the outside.

“Cut me out,” he snarled, straining against his bindings hard enough to hurt himself.

You peered down at him, slowing your hips to a glacial pace,

“You know your safeword, John.”

“Cut. Me. Out.”

His eyes were vicious when he looked up at you now. He was like a hungry wolf; his gaze held within it a dark promise that — if you cut his leash — he would destroy you.

On one hand, your body celebrated that realization. It was eager to be devoured by this monster of a man, but you had worked hard to control your primal urges, and you decided to put your hound back in his cage. You let your hand snake around his throat, squeezing where it was safest, digging in your nails for him to feel your threat more vividly, knowing it would hurt him against his healing wounds,

“If you want to stop, say the word.”

You waited, watching his tortured face, panting and wet from tears and sweat, but he remained silent. You licked your lips,

“You came here for a lesson in self-control, and I am your teacher.”

For the next half hour, you made sure John Price understood who was in control of his pleasure. You sat on his cock, rocking back and forth until you felt his body tense up, and then you pulled yourself off of him, leaving his throbbing prick out in the cold, tapping at your ass cheeks, begging to be let back in.

You ignored him, touching yourself with your fingers, using the chubby flesh of his lower belly to rub against your cunt, smearing your wetness all over him as you played in your hole.

Then, you would put him back inside and start the process all over again, grinding and stopping, grinding and stopping, until your mighty sub was whimpering for release, his balls tight against his core, ready to flood you with his come at any moment.

Finally, when you saw how fuck-drunk he was, coming in and out of consciousness like he’d been drugged, you decided to relieve him of his burden. You caught his eye and made sure he knew what was coming. Immediately, you had his full attention. He began to chant, hoarse and rasping under his breath,

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck…”

You let the anticipation build, slipping your pussy over his head in feather-light swipes, letting your folds tickle his cockhead mercilessly. Then, you began to bounce your hips on his cock.

“Ungh– love, I’m —” he growled, his words breathless and broken, unbridled.

“I want your come,” you confessed, getting lost in your own pleasure, “I want it in me… Deep. In. Me,” you changed your tone, tightening your grip on the nape of his neck as much as you dared, “And I’m going to take it from you.”

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, his eyes locked onto yours, shining with fresh tears, overstimulated and raw.

Then, you saw the relief smooth across his brow, and you waited for a breath before you felt it, spearing yourself on him to his hilt, plugging your cunt so that his come would be plugged up inside of you, filling your emptiest parts, making them warm and swollen with his spend.

You felt him bursting inside of you, his girth stretching you every time he throbbed, spraying inside of you over and over, dumping his load into your soft hole. When you felt him finish, you began your grinding circles again, causing him to roll and twist, aching from the pleasure and pain.

“Nngh… love, please… can’t… I can’t…”

You yanked the slip tie out from under his shoulder, and suddenly, he had control of his arms again. You did the same to his legs, freeing him from your ties, ending his captivity.

Like a flash, he erupted upwards toward you. His hands went to your hips, sitting up to hug himself around your body, crushing you to his chest and forcing you down into his lap, spearing you on his sensitive rod as if you had planned to pull him out. His mouth savaged your breasts, biting them cruelly, his fingers holding you tight enough to leave you bruised.

You grabbed his face, holding his bristled cheeks in your hands again, bringing him up to kiss you. You pressed your lips to his as delicately as you could manage, trembling from your bliss. He kissed you back, and that’s all you did for what felt like an eon. Your mind swam through a blank, glittering cosmos, and the only thing that was real was the feeling of John’s mouth on your mouth and his sex on your sex, his hands on your body and your hands on his body, his pain and your pain, his love and your love. You and he were muddled together like pigments on a palette, jonquil and fuschia, no longer existing as one or the other and yet both smearing together, mixed and inseparable, ready to paint a bright, endless sun.

You had melted, it seemed, under John’s sweating, heaving body. His ribs bullied into your belly every time he took a breath, and his cock had softened so that it slipped away from you. Your body ached for its comfort again, every nature-made part of you punishing you for losing it, coaxing you to do anything to get it back, to fill the space left vacant. You were tucked into his chest, folded and hiding beneath his chin, rubbing at the flat of his sternum with the back of your hand.

His finger brushed a stray curl from your brow, touching your hair with respect, staring down at you in awe,

“My hero,” he purred.

You smiled, kissing the stubble on his chin,

“Am I, now?”

“My head…” He stared up at the ceiling again, going to it for comfort like a long lost friend, “It’s so quiet. So clear. You’ve done that for me, and I’ll be thanking you for the rest of my days.”

“I’ll always be here for you, John. You are my muse in more ways than I’ll ever admit,” you laughed breathlessly, a little sad. It was bittersweet, falling in love with a man you couldn’t have. But, you found yourself in him and now you would need to work out how to live without that mirrored reflection. You felt linked to him, two unbroken cords looped together like Solomon’s seal, inseparable and yet laid on two disparate paths.

“Don’t…” He said, his tone sounding even more sorrowful than yours.

You sat up on your elbow, bringing your face up to his to look at him, to see his emotions,

“What?”

“Don’t make me hope.”

“What do you hope for?” Your voice fell into a whisper, your heart not having the strength to ask your question aloud.

He matched your tone, purring out his confession with a tired but cheeky grin,

“For a woman who can bring me to my knees,” then, his expression turned serious, and his eyes traced his finger as he played with the stray curl he had found, studying its winding path, “For a healer. Someone who can remind me of who I am. Everytime I stop to catch my breath, I’ve been hoping for you.”

Your heart stuttered, knowing that he was not a man to settle down in one place. You looked down at his chest rising and falling with his breath, matching your rhythm, unable to meet his eyes,

“How long can you stay?”

He put a thick finger under your chin, just as you had for him during his session, making you meet his gaze,

“Let’s start with tonight…”

He planted a soft kiss on your left cheek.

“...then tomorrow…”

His lips kissed your right cheek, dragging hungrily across your skin,

“...and all the tomorrows that you’ll give me. I’ll take them all, if you let me.”

John placed his final kiss on your open mouth, lips parted, concentrating on what he was saying. You smiled, kissing him back in earnest,

“Tonight, then. And tomorrow.”

“And tomorrow,” he nodded, smiling brightly, rolling himself over you to shield you from the chill of the room, folding you into his darkness, safe, bound to him without a cord, knotted together without a bight, tangled for however long the strands would hold.

AO3 Link --- Thank you for the kudos!

#call of duty fanfic #captain john price #john price #call of duty #captain price #captain price x you #captain price x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #fem!reader #john price smut #oh captain my captain #captain johnathan price #captain price smut

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 5 days

Text

Heart-Stopping

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Surgeon!Female!Reader

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: fluff

Summary: After a ten-hour surgery, all you want to do is go home and be with your husband. When he comes into the ER needing surgery, your entire world is turned upside down.

Square Filled: "Oh, don't worry, this blood isn't mine." (2022) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

You trudge out of the OR into the scrub room to clean your hands and arms. The surgery you were just in lasted an atrocious ten hours. You’ve gone for more, but this was so tough since the patient’s heart kept arresting and her blood vessels were so friable that it was hard to do any kind of stitches. Still, you managed to get her fixed and stable enough to be transferred to the ICU.

All you want to do is go home to your husband and cuddle until you fall asleep in his arms. He understands your job and how you can’t always be home with him. He’s in the FBI so he has the same demand even if he’s doing work that’s completely different. The reason your marriage works is that you two make it a point to call each other every day, plan an at-home date every week, a date anywhere that’s not your house every month, and have a small vacation every six months.

He’s your rock and you don’t know what you’d do without him in your life. He’s your biggest supporter and the love of your life.

You’re scrubbing away the sweat and grime from your hands when your pager goes off. You grab a microfiber towel and dry your hands before checking the pager. 911 ER. You toss the towel away and run out of the room hoping you can get to the ER in time. There is a patient who needs your attention and might die if you’re not there. It amazes you that you have so much energy after a surgery like that and maybe it’s because of the silent promise of saving as many people as you can.

You push the double doors open that lead into the ER and look around to see if you can spot the patient that needs you.

“Dr. Y/N! I need you to know that everything is okay…”

You can’t hear anything your resident says because all you’re focused on is your husband lying on a stretcher covered in blood. Your entire world comes crashing to a stop. You’re a very skilled heart doctor but it feels like your own heart is going to stop at the thought of your life without Spencer in it. His coworkers, Derek and Emily, are by his side without blood on their clothes.

“Y/N!” Derek grabs your shoulders and snaps you out of the silent panic you’re in. “He’s okay, I promise he’ll be fine.”

“What happened? Spencer!”

You rush over to him, and he grabs your hand gently.

“Oh, don’t worry, this blood isn’t mine,” he mumbles.

“What happened?” you ask Derek and Emily.

“There was an accident. He tried to save our victim and got caught in the crossfire. She’s right behind him.”

“Y/N, we’ll take care of him.”

You turn to see your chief of surgery and your best friend who has a determined yet empathetic look on his face. You can’t take care of your husband because he’s your husband so the only person you trust to take care of him is the chief.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Don’t let him die, please.”

“We go it. Go to Trauma One!”

Spencer is wheeled to the first trauma room just as the victim comes in right behind him. She, you can help. Spencer is wheeled into surgery to fix an injury on his leg while the general surgeon and neurosurgeon take the victim to surgery. If there is anything to be done on her heart, they’ll call you in. You’re stuck thinking about Spencer instead of being in surgery to take your mind off it. You leave Trauma Two and walk over to Emily and Derek who are talking to each other.

“What happened to him?”

“There was a car accident, the car the victim was in. They skidded on a patch of ice and the car slammed into a tree, ejecting the victim out of the windshield. Spencer was the first to her which is how he got all of her blood on him. Another car came around the corner and didn’t see the crashed vehicle, and they collided with it, sending shrapnel into Spencer’s leg. He lost a lot of blood on the way over here.”

“Shit,” you whisper with tears in your eyes.

“He’s going to be okay. You have a talented team of doctors here.”

“I know,” you nod.

There is no choice but to wait for Spencer to get out of surgery. When he is, they take him to a private room where you can sit with him. It takes twenty minutes for him to come out of the anesthesia, but he’s still pretty loopy from it.

“Hey, baby, how are you doing?”

You take out your stethoscope and check his heart and lungs, relief clouding your head when you don’t hear anything bad about it.

“Doctor… I need… I need some… some flowers.”

“Flowers? For what?”

“My wife. Her birthday is this weekend, and I want to get her flowers.”

Your heart swells happily at his little confession. He knows how much you love getting flowers. They brighten up even the darkest of places.

“It’s very important, please.” He rolls his head to the side and looks at you through hooded eyes. He doesn’t seem to recognize it’s his wife right in front of him. “I need you… Can you write her a card for me?”

“What do you want it to say?”

“I love her. Her eyes are pretty. She makes me so happy. Just say that.”

“Okay,” you grin with tears in your eyes.

Spencer’s eyes close and you sit next to his bed. You grab his hand and kiss the back of it, content with staying just like this until he wakes up.

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fiction #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst

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abbyshands · 8 months

Note

more nerdy abby please

nerdy!gf!abby headcanons

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

a/n; well, yes! how could i say no to that? <3

pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader

warnings; use of princess/angel/baby, abby coaxes reader on her period, implied strap-on, praise and a little degrading, cunnilingus, fingering, implied brat x brat!tamer dynamics (?), scissoring

P.S.; please look at the below links to learn of ways that you can help the people in gaza, and how you can learn more about this ongoing issue overall. please don’t stay in the dark about this: like each post, reblog them, etc. if you like my work, then i am asking you to take the side that i’m on. i will be linking all of these resources in each post from now on. free 🇵🇸

LINKS: ways you can help | 🇵🇸 masterpost | MORE ways you can help | places to boycott, and families you can help escape | learn more

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

♡ fluff

♡ nerdy!gf!abby who is a biology major, planning to work as a doctor, and she freaks out whenever you get hurt. it could be the smallest of bruises and she’s there with bandages, wrapping you up, cleaning your skin, or whatever the case may be. there are times where she’ll scold you like a parent for being reckless, rattling off each and every fact she knows about the “delicacy of the human body,” as she calls it. “it’s like you do it on purpose, princess,” she grumbles, but you know deep down that she’s never really mad at you.

♡ nerdy!gf!abby who not only cares for you when you’ve got a cut or bruise, but also when you’re sick or on your period. it’s one of the only times she’ll drop all of her work, but then again, you’re the only person she’d ever drop her work for. if you have bad cramps, she’ll come to your dorm and cuddle with you, ensuring that you’ve taken medicine and are using a heating pad to assist with your cramps. she’ll spoon you from behind as she rubs your abdomen—where they usually are—whispering sweet things to you as you squirm in discomfort. “it’s okay, angel. it’ll pass. you’re okay.”

♡ nerdy!gf!abby who does her homework while cuddled up in bed with you. it’s amazing how she can do it, papers in her hands as you lay across her lap, or are cuddled up into her side. she’s managed to find a good balance in doing the work she’s meant to be doing while also ensuring that she isn’t ignoring you. you’ve fallen asleep numerous times to abby playing with your hair, and the sound of her scribbling away on her papers as she does so.

♡ nerdy!gf!abby who messages you during the day, a lot, just to check in on you on a regular basis. it’ll be small things, but it makes you feel cared for in every sense of the word. “did you eat today, princess?” “how was class, angel?” “feeling okay?” and if not: “do you want to come by my dorm? we can talk.” and, every single day, she will message you this one: “i love you.”

♡ nerdy!gf!abby who worships you like a goddess. she tells you how gorgeous you are on a daily basis, making sure you know how much she sees you for who you are. she loves every inch of you: your face, your eyes, your lips, hips, thighs, all of it. there’s not a thing in this world she doesn’t love on your body. “prettiest girl in the world,” she’ll say, and, if you’re feeling insecure, “what do you mean? you’re a real life princess, angel.” she’ll let you know just how mesmerizing she thinks you are with no shame.

✮ smut (18+)

✮ nerdy!gf!abby who loves to look you in the eye while she fucks you, but prefers to take you from the back. she’s obsessed with the way you whine and moan her name when she pulls your hair, not too hard, while she pounds into you from behind. “that’s it, princess. know you love when i fuck you like this, don’t you?”

✮ nerdy!gf!abby who praises you a lot, no matter if she’s behind you, on top of you, below you, it doesn’t really matter. she’ll tell you how much of a good girl you are, how well you’re receiving. “there you go, angel. you’ve got it,” she’ll coo, along with, “good/pretty baby. you look gorgeous like this.” her ways of worshiping you will never not come into the bedroom. “you take me so well, angel,” is also one you hear very much.

✮ nerdy!gf!abby who is a giving girl at heart. if there’s one thing she’ll spend the rest of her life doing, it’s eating you out, just to see that look of pure bliss on your face when she does it. she’ll kiss and bite up your thighs before she begins, leaving hickeys on your skin. then, she attacks your cunt in an almost ferocious passion, devouring your pussy like she’s running out of time to do so. she always feels herself get wet when she’s got you arching your back off the bed, whimpering prayers, and whispers of abby’s name. her glasses fog up during it all, and are always covered in your arousal and release by the time she’s done, but she never cared at all for that. she’s skilled in what she does, using her fingers to curl inside your g-spot while her lips attack your clit, easily getting an orgasm out of you each and every time.

✮ nerdy!gf!abby who isn’t big on degrading unless she’s praising you and degrading you in the same sentence. “my pretty little slut,” “you’re my good whore, aren’t you,” and “you’re my whore, d’you hear me? mine.” she doesn’t like to degrade you because she genuinely feels you’re too precious for that, her baby. so, she only does it like this, and the reason she does it at all is because you’ve told her that you like it. however, she can get just a little mean if you’re being a brat to her. “don’t give me that attitude, princess,” “you’re too pretty to be a brat,” and, “don’t test me, baby.”

✮ nerdy!gf!abby who loves scissoring with you when you’re on top of her. the way you rub your soaked pussy onto hers, grinding your hips on her lower body like the needy girl you are. she loves to watch you fuck yourself as her own climax builds inside of her, and it feels nice to not have to do the work for once. she can get a little whiny herself when she feels your clit rub onto hers, grabbing your hips as she moans loudly. “f- fuck, baby, that feels so good. keep going. don’t stop,” and, “you like this? you like riding me, hm?” she also firmly believes that your bodies were made to fit like this from the beginning, and she always tells you that during it all. “my cute girl. you’re just for me. no one else makes me feel this good,” and “made just for me, princess? yeah, i know you were.”

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

reblogs are very much welcomed <3

———

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #the last of us smut #tlou2 smut #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fan fiction #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #tlou abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson fic #abby anderson headcanons #tlou abby #ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ kit’s works

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miyamoratsumuu · 1 month

Text

CASE: SOLVED!

⌕ you want us to solve what?!

⌕ a k.bakugou, s.todoroki, i.imidoriya (seperately) x reader interactive smau series

⌕ she needed a new start, and japan's hero commision needed the world's best of the best private investigator. now that y/n l/n was asked to be stationed in japan, she'll be working side by side with the country's top three heroes to uncover a stalker's disguise. will they be able to find a solution for the case? and along the way, maybe a solution for her broken heart too.

⌕ pro hero!au, big three x reader, strangers (?) to co workers to lovers (?), swearing/language, fem!reader (reader is referred to with she/her pronouns), stalker activity, maybe ooc izuku I'm sorry</3

⌕ status: coming soon!

(☏) for chapters with written portions

⌕ frans' 1k special! readers will be able to decide the fate of characters involved in the series! who'll work with who, who'll make moves on the reader first, who'll go on dates with who? you get to decide!

CATCH THE SUSPECT! uquiz

TEASER, INTRODUCTIONS, CHAPTERS coming soon<3

⌕ taglist: open!! (reply or send an ask to be added<3)

⌕ the series and whole concept of this is inspired by Panorama!!!, an Interactive Haikyuu SMAU series by the loveliest herself, @zumicho !! it's an amazing series. make sure to check it out along with ree's other works!!

AND TO ALL MY AMAZING MHA MOOTIES THAT MADE THIS POSSIBLE AAAAH TY ALL AND ILY ALL SM!!!! you guys won't believe the amount of times you inspired me to do more and do better, and I couldn't be more grateful 🙇🏻‍♀️

@whenanafallsinlove @angeliicheartt @poetlus @sepptember @satelitis @iloveroblox48 @sweetheartsaku @rueclfer @kovu-bunnbunn @izufeels @seumyo @loveriotss @lissdiary @xn4vyl1c1ousx @sunolls @lounaticcc @daetko

and ofc to my other moots too that I wasn't able to tag (it's either I'm shy or I'm shy 😞) I can't forget about you guys ofc!! all of your support means so much to me, words can't express how grateful I really am<3 LIKE REE AND NESS AND WYR AND YEN (imy yen) you guys were the no. 1 people I always looked up to, truly ILY!!

navigation ⌕ mha masterlist

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lethesbeastie · 4 months

Note

Hi, I saw your post about practicing drawing fat people and I was wondering if you could compile like a list of resources or references?

It can be difficult to find resources for drawing the wide variety of forms fat bodies can occupy, so I've done my best to bring together some resources I've been able to prove have some degree of diversity in the references they offer!

My primary resource recommendation for drawing fat people is Morpho Anatomy For Artists: Fat And Skin Folds! It does a wonderful job breaking down where fat accumulates on the body, how it interacts with the familiar landmarks of human anatomy, and what sort of shapes it tends to form under the influence of gravity. It's a phenomenal reference and my top recommendation for anyone seeking to improve at drawing fat people!

When it comes to finding decent photo references for fat people, the pickings are frustratingly slim. Most sites that specialize in pose references either don't have fat models or have all their images behind paywalls. Of the resources I looked through, the best sources for pose references were Adorkastock and Line of Action.

@adorkastock actively seeks to provide an incredible profile of pose references with diverse body types, and as an added bonus you can access a lot of their images for free on their site/Tumblr or join their patreon for early access to images! Line of action is a site aimed towards practicing figure drawing, providing images and a timed function to challenge artists to sketch within a set time limit. I took the time to go through roughly 300+ images and was pleased to find that during my session around two-to-three out of every ten photos were fat models. The only caveats to this was the fact that most of the images were of the same individual, limiting the applications for studying the variants of fat bodies. Still, it's an amazing tool that has a free mode and allows you to filter the types of references you want based on age and level of nudity.

Beyond sites that specialize in art reference photography, there's also the ever popular Pinterest, which is the site where I typically seek references for my personal studies. Due to the nature of Pinterest's extensive collection, there's a vast variety of references for different fat body types that includes a lot more "everyday" people. The primary issue with Pinterest however is the rampant reposting and lack of proper credits for images, which can make things dicey depending on how you wish to use the references you find. For personal studies this isn't really an issue, but for any sort of professional or paid work is something to be aware of just for the sake of accountability.

* For those who are 18+, porn photography of real people also offers an incredible wealth of visual resources for fat bodies and how they interact with gravity/movement/etc. The variety of positions and angles offer many opportunities to study human anatomy, and it's a pretty well-known fact that drawing NSFW art can be an important learning experience for those struggling with drawing anatomy. In the end, it depends on your personal level of comfort with viewing/drawing explicit images, but it's not something you should completely overlook.

Last but not least, look at the work of artists you admire who draw fat people! While I typically recommend sticking to photo references for learning anatomy, studying artist's portrayals of fat people is also incredibly helpful for learning different tactics for simplifying and/or stylizing fat bodies to better fit ones own style. There are also plenty of artists who've crafted tutorials detailing their approach to drawing fat folks, so I highly recommend you check them out as well! I hope the resources I've linked here can help you in your studies, and feel free to drop another ask if you have any more questions! I'm planning on posting a tutorial on how I do studies for fat people soon, so that will be an additional resource for you once I've got it posted!

#artists on tumblr #beastiebites #asks #art resources #drawing fat people #thank you for the ask! lemme know if u have any more questions!#im working on drawing up a tutorial for another ask so that resource will also be available!#let me know if any of the links fail #tumblr is trying to kill them but i stay silly :3

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bunnys-kisses · 20 days

Note

Hi bunny, I recently found ur page and have been binge reading ur posts, you’re so good!! I have a big order. Peach cake, Red velvet cupcake and a pound cake with strawberries. With a side of with dark hot chocolate and a glass of water, George Russell🙈… if it’s too many details do it however you want bcuz your writing is amazing <3

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i love getting orders! i accept more than just formula one so i'm always happy to try different fandoms. so please! check it out! and thank you lovely anon, i'm happy you love my work! and thank you for submitting a george russell order because i've gotten people asking for him! so thank you! i hope you love it <3

peach cake: ("if you spill a drop, we start all over.") + red velvet cupcake: ("if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one.") + pound cake with strawberries: ("you know i hate going over rules, but just because i like seeing you embarrassed, i'll tell you them again.") + dark hot chocolate: (sub!reader) + glass of water: (aftercare) served by george russell (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, sub!reader & dom!george, rules & punishments, spanking, sparkling water, jealousy, aftercare, doggy style,

"you're so lucky, honestly he sounds like a prince charming!" you once heard from someone when you were talking about your boyfriend, "george just seems like such a sweet guy. like he double checked to make sure that roses wouldn't make your cat sick? most guys can barely get flowers!"

you felt your ears burn at her words and nervously played with the bracelet around your left wrist. there was on charm on it, letter 'g' for your beloved. your boyfriend, your biggest fan.

your dom, george russell.

but even men who looked like princes in fairy tales could be a little jealous. george often appeared himself to be a very sweet guy, who'd never actually hurt someone. he was a force on the track and would do what he needed to win, but he'd never put his hands on another driver. he'd never get in their face or try to get violent.

but as he watched lando norris try his hardest to pick you up, george really wanted to knock some sense into the driver. just because a woman didn't wear a neon sign that said 'taken', it didn't mean they were free game to flirt with.

and you, the future mrs. russell, should know better. even though the weight of the bracelet you wore wasn't too much. he hoped that it was enough of a reminder to behave. listen to the rules that george had laid out for you.

when lando touched your bare arm, and you stepped back a little. george knew that he had to step in. he was at your side rather quickly, smiling at lando. he wrapped an arm around you.

"see you've met my girlfriend, mate." he smiled, putting all of his charm into it, "i was looking for her." his hand snaked to your ass and you gave it a firm squeeze. you weren't off the hook.

"oh this is-" lando looked at you, "i didn't recognize her, mate. i'm so sorry!"

george was a little unconvinced when he replied,"yeah, a haircut can do that." even though you hadn't styled your hair differently in years. george didn't get too aggressive with the fellow driver because now that he was close to him, he could see that the drink in his hand was large and his stance implied it wasn't the first one of the evening.

but, george made sure that you didn't have a drop of alcohol. so while lando was drunk, you were well aware of the rules that your dom had set for you. the driver leaned to your ear and said, ""you know i hate going over rules, but just because i like seeing you embarrassed, i'll tell you them again."

and you swallowed, knowing you'd get a lecture when your boyfriend steered you away from the drunken racer. you felt the tip of your ears grow hot and you played with the bracelet. despite how nervous you felt, george was all smiles as he told lando to have a good night.

as you walked away, your lover's voice was hot in your ear, "no flirting. remember? you are mine, and i don't need other men getting their hands on you." he held you by the back. he kissed your cheek softly, "when rules are broken, there are punishments." this was part of your dynamic.

you knew there would be a punishment when you got home and you were right. a bottle of sparkling water from the grocery store was opened. and with you on your knees, opened your mouth. this was a punishment of endurance and being unbreakable. george poured a mouthful in your mouth then closed your jaw. he said, "if you spill a drop, we start all over."

you nodded before you got up onto your feet. your legs shaky as he put the bottle down on the nightstand. you held the water in your mouth as you got over his lap. you could feel his hard cock against your stomach. the goal of the punishment was to hold the water in your mouth even if the carbonation made your eyes run. and george spanked you for every infraction you did.

"you're a whore." he said as he rubbed your bare ass. he stripped you down to nothing as soon as you got home. you were to be laid out naked for him. he on the other hand was still in the shirt and slacks fro the party. it only added to the dynamic, you were exposed for him while he got to stay dressed. he slapped your ass, "you're a whore, you let norris get his hands all over you. you know if you let him suck on your pretty breasts or fuck your poor pussy, you'd be thrown away by the next day." he landed another spank across your ass.

you whimpered, trying to hold the water in your mouth. the spanks made it hard to not choke on it or have to drip out of your mouth. the bubbles of it made you feel discomfort in your face. but you had to be good.

"but not me. i'd never do that to you." he said softly, "you are my treasure. you know there's rules, that you have to be well behaved for me. or else we're going to have problems. you're my girlfriend, my love, my submissive." he landed a few more spanks across your ass, he watched your body shake with each of his slaps. but you didn't spill a drop.

the knowledge of that made george smile to himself. it wasn't hard to train you to be an amazing sub, you were always so eager to make him proud. you took your punishments with grace. he landed a few more smacks across your ass, "but you are my whore in the end. my responsibility to teach and fuck." he groped your bruised ass which made you whine.

you kicked out your legs as if you were trying to say that you weren't a whore. that you were a good girl, but it was only met with another hard smack across your cheeks. you arched your back and whined more.

"if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one." he said as a warning. he took you by the jaw to look at him. your craned your neck to get a good look at your prince charming. he smiled, "swallow. then hands and knees."

you swallowed and nodded happily. and like a good girl, you opened your mouth to show you swallowed it all. you earned a pat on the cheek, which made you melt a little. you got off his lap, leaving pussy slick across his black slacks.

george noticed it and chuckled lightly before he started to unbutton his shirt. you were a messy little slut, but george adored you. he was only rough because he knew it was best for you. you were a smart girl, you just needed reminders. once he was out of his clothes, he saw you with your hips raised. ready for him as always.

"my beautiful girl." he said as got himself behind you on his knees. he admired your beauty from behind. he could feel the heat of the bruises on your ass when he placed his hand across one of the cheeks. oh, you were perfect for him, "see, norris could never have you like this. no, no. he wouldn't know what do with himself. he'd probably finish before he started." he chuckled as he gave your ass a pat. he pushed his cock all the way into you, you were beyond soaked that it was so easy for him

he started to move his hips, he pushed you into the covers by your shoulders and had the perfect angle to fuck you. you looked so pretty as you took him. you really were a good girl, the farthest thing from a whore. but he knew it excited you when your prince charming, george russell, called you such sick names. it made you hot all over, just as when he fucked you with heavy thrusts.

"ah, george. sir." you arched your back as he hit the softest parts of you. you felt like a dream, you were a fairy tale princess. from your cute face to how you dressed. to how you were good with everyone but always perfect for george. you took his cock perfectly, made for him like you came from pages of a story. it was why he need to fuck you was always so strong.

"perfect little whore." he said, his voice tinged with praise.

you moved a little bit and felt your knees start to hurt from the feeling of it all. you felt a thump in your chest from his words. you held onto the pillow under your head. your ass stung from the feeling of the previous slaps.

"see what happens when you behave. you know i'll take care of you. always, but you have to remember our rules. they're to keep you safe. you are the most important thing to me. that's why i hate when you're a whore." he continued to thrust up against you.

you believed him. that was why you put so much trust into him.he never steered you wrong. you loved him so much. and he loved you, even when he called you names in the safety of your bedroom, you loved him more than anything.

his thrusts were focused and they made you squirm. it made it feel like he was nudging up into your stomach and it took the air out of you. your pussy was a fit for him.

you held onto the covers with your back arched. you panted heavily into them. everything was hot in your body, you panted heavily into the sheets. "please, sir."

"you know i love you, and this all happens because i love you so much. and i know how good you could be for me." he said hotly into your ear, keeping you pinned to the bed.

the blood rush made your toes curled and you came with your hands buried in the soft sheets of your shared bed. you gasped into the pillow and you back arched. it was all too much, you almost had tears in your eyes.

he finished after you did, then slowly came to a stop. he pushed his entire length into you and bottomed out in you. he shuddered and coughed out a moan. his grip on you was tight. and you came once more from the intensity of it all. the sparks in your brain came alive.

your back arched as you felt him slow down and stop. you both tried to catch your breath before george pulled out and wrapped himself up around you. he got the covers over you and kissed at your face with love.

"do you need water?" being a good dom meant aftercare. especially from such a production. he peppered your face with kisses and held you in his arms, "i think there's something in the fridge you could snack on."

you looked at him and cupped his face gently, you said with half-lidded eyed, "just some water. when i can think again maybe a shower, sir."

he kissed your lips and said, "perfect, good. my good girl." even with the bruises across your ass, you felt on cloud nine. there really was nothing like having a dom. especially the kind like george. your prince charming <3

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wwilsonbarness · 10 months

Text

my girl

pairings: bucky barnes x female!reader

summary: based on the request below!

Warnings: smut 18+ only - established relationship, quick mention of reader being a teacher, minorrrr angst (like not at all), mentions of anxiety, fluff fluff fluff, smut (unprotected sex, public sex, creampie, nipple play, spit kink), use of pet names (sweet girl, baby) - let me know if i missed any please :)

word count: 2842

a/n: not beta read or really edited lol. Also my first time writing in months so this is kinda shit.

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :)

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform. Do not read or interact if you are a minor.

masterlist

“How do I look?” You ask Bucky as you walk into the kitchen, twirling slightly to show off your outfit.

“Beautiful as always doll.” He walks towards you and brushes his lips against your forehead. “Don’t be nervous, they’re gonna love you.”

Bucky always knew how you were feeling, even when you were trying to hide it.

You take a deep sigh before replying, “I just want to make a good first impression, I know they’re important to you.”

“Not as important as you are doll.” You feel his smirk against your forehead as he brings himself closer for another kiss.

“Forever the charmer Buck, I love you.”

“I love you too,” He grabs your hand and pulls you towards the door, “come on, we don’t wanna be late.”

You try to stop in front of the mirror to check how you look once more but he stops you, “Stop worrying baby, you look perfect.”

“I just want them to like me.”

“And they will, I promise”

Everything about your relationship with Bucky had been amazing so far but the idea of meeting his friends, the people who had been there for him since he became himself again, before you even knew each other, was terrifying. If they didn’t like you, what would that mean? Sure Bucky says you’re the most important person in his life but no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t convince yourself that if his friends didn’t like you then Bucky would dump you.

“Baby, you have got to stop worrying. They’re gonna love you.”

“You don’t know that Bucky.”

“But I do..” He trails off his words to show you how confident he is about this. Your lips come together in a little pout, which Bucky finds adorable.

It was only a 15 minute drive to the tower where the rest of the Avengers lived, you were secretly hoping there would be some traffic to hold you up but the roads were nowhere near as busy as they usually were. Bucky could feel the anxiety radiating off you, he wished he could take it away from you, there was really 0 chance that his friends wouldn’t love you, but you were naturally an anxious person and he knew that so he did what he knew comforted you and rubbed circles over your hand on the drive there. You appreciated him for trying to comfort you but your anxiety would not ease up. You’d never felt this nervous before, you must’ve completely zoned out for the rest of the car ride because what felt like only a minute later had actually been 15 and you were pulling up to the tower.

Bucky had a quick chat with the gate attendant before driving through the gates and parking in his designated spot.

“You ready doll?” He asks, turning himself towards you with a soft smile on his face.

“Mhmm, let’s go.” You were not ready but you didn’t want to ruin Bucky’s night, it’d been a while since he’d seen everyone with all the missions everyone had recently been on and you knew he was excited.

He quickly climbed out the car and made his way to your side, always insisting on opening your door for you. When you get out he holds his hand out for you and you immediately grab hold of it. He pulls you closer towards you and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead before whispering to you. “I promise baby, it’s gonna be fine.” You shoot him a quick, almost forced smile, and nod, showing you were ready to go in.

It only takes a few minutes to get up to the living quarters side of the tower, and now a quick elevator ride was the only thing between you and people Bucky loves. As the elevator started to slow you took a deep breath and readied to walk out. As soon as the doors open you can hear a loud laugh boom through the room followed by a quiet chuckle beside you. It had only been a couple seconds and Bucky was already so happy to be back here.

As you turned the corner your eyes quickly scanned the room trying to put names to faces of everyone Bucky had told you about. Obviously you knew everyone's superhero names, but to Bucky they were his friends, his family, not superheroes. Suddenly everyone had turned your way and you realise Bucky had made both your presences known. You felt like all eyes were on you and Bucky could tell your nerves had shot up, so he lightly gave your hands a squeeze.”Hey guys.”

“Hey Bucky!” Sam shouted over and began walking towards you. “You must be Y/N? Bucky’s told me a lot about you.”

You nod towards, who you knew to be Sam, as much as Bucky told you they weren’t best friends, you knew that they were. You smile and hold your hand out to shake his. “That’s me, nice to meet yo-” Before you could finish, Sam pulled you in for a hug.

“We’re all about hugs here. You’re part of the family now.” You can’t help but laugh and hug him back. You really appreciated him being so welcoming, he was the one person you were most worried about not liking you. From what Bucky told you, he was very protective over the people he cares about.

“Alright Wilson, don’t scare my girl away.” Sam pulls away and moves to Bucky to give him a hug as well.

You look at Bucky and smirk, "Your girl, hm?” He looked confused for a split second before the tips of his ears started to turn bright red and his usual smug smirk disappeared when he realised what he’d said.

“Sorry doll.” You weren’t sure why he was apologising or why he was embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to sa- sorry.” You’d never seen someone's skin turn so red as fast as his had in this moment.

“Don’t be, I liked it.” You whisper right next to him, hoping no one else heard. Before he could respond to you, more voices filled the space around you.

“You could’ve just asked for a hug too Bucky, besides if you haven’t scared her off already, I don’t think much will” Sam teases.

“So your girl? Must be serious. I’ll expect my wedding invite any day now. Bucky’s face was only growing redder and he couldn’t look anyone in the eye, forcing his gaze to the floor. His hand was rubbing the back of his neck, something you knew he did when he was embarrassed. You took a small step closer to him and rubbed your hand on his arm, showing you really didn’t mind the nickname, in fact you loved it. A small smile was starting to form on his face but before you could see it grow any more a voice pulled you away.

“Alright Wilson, stop hogging them. The rest of us want to introduce ourselves as well.” You instantly recognise the face as Clint, someone who Bucky truly owed a lot to. He had let Bucky live with him and his family for a bit when he needed some time away from the city. The memories of Steve leaving and his past life got too much to handle and he already felt like he had imposed too much on Sam and his family. He would forever be grateful for Clint and Laura taking him in, he really felt a part of their family, so much so that their kids had started calling him Uncle Bucky.

Clint put his hand towards yours and introduced himself, “Hi Y/N, I’m Clint. Sorry about him, I promise we’re not all as crazy as him.” You laughed at his joke and shook his hand. It’s lovely to finally meet you Clint, Bucky’s spoken a lot about you.”

“It’s all lies.” He jokes before moving onto Bucky and giving him a side hug.

“Laura and the kids here too clint?”

Clint shook his head before moving to stand in front of you both. “Sorry Buck, they had some school things on, but they made me promise to ask you to visit soon, and to bring your girl!” Clint replies with a wink which makes you laugh. Bucky couldn’t stop his huge smirk from reappearing as Clint called you his girl.

As they continued talking more people made their way over to you and introduced themselves. First there was Joaquin and then Sarah and her boys. The boys completely skipped saying hello to you and ran over to their uncle Bucky before Sarah called them back to apologise. They came back and introduced themselves and with a little nudge from Sarah apologised for rushing past you. “That’s okay, I know you're excited. It was very nice to meet you both boys.” They shook your hand and ran over again to Bucky.

“Sorry about them, I swear they love Bucky more than they love me sometimes.” Sarah smiled at seeing how nicely you fit into the group and gave you a hug, just like how Sam had to show you that you were welcomed. Once all the introductions were done you all sat down in the living room. You were the main topic of the conversation, everyone was interested in knowing how one person had completely changed Bucky’s life.

“So Y/N,” Wanda started, “Bucky said you’re a teacher?”

“Yeah that’s right.” You slightly laughed aftwards, not because it was funny but you were slightly panicking being the centre of attention around all these people. Especially since some of them were literal superheroes. “I know it’s not as exciting as you guys but I enjoy it.”

Everyone quickly spoke up and defended you against yourself. Especially Sarah and Clint, with having kids they knew how important teachers were. It felt good knowing that they thought that of you, even though you were still feeling anxious, everyone had been so welcoming to you and you weren't sure why you were so nervous.You didn’t notice but Bucky was looking at you as you spoke, his eyes were a tell tale sign that he was so proud of you. He knew how hard you worked and loved when you got the recognition you deserve.

“What age do you teach?” Joaquin asked next.

“Oh erm, at the moment I teach second grade but I’m hoping to move up soon.”

“It must be hard, kids are annoying little creatures.” Sam says, looking at Cass and AJ for their reactions, they both shout “Hey!” before Sam tickles them.

Another voice starts, you’re not sure who but doesn't get far before Bucky interrupts. “Alright alright, stop grilling my girl.” His girl. “I haven’t seen most of you guys in months, what’s been happening?

You look at Bucky and smirk when he calls you his girl again and it only takes a few seconds for him to realise what he’s said again and he can’t help but smirk, knowing that you like it.

The rest of the night went well, you felt like they all really liked you. Before you knew it, it was around midnight and you were working in the morning so had to get home.

“Again, it was really lovely to meet all of you! Thank you for a great night.” You say as you head for the elevator, Bucky following close behind.

“Make sure to tell the boy’s I said bye, Sarah!” Bucky shouts, “Clint, let’s plan a trip soon. See you all later!” Bucky shouts through, the elevator doors just cutting him off.

As soon as the doors shut you lead your head against his shoulder. “You okay sweet girl?”

“I’m good, just tired.”

“You have a good night?”

You nodded against him, “I’m sorry we couldn’t stay longer.”

“Hey,” He moved slightly and held your head in his hands, bending over slightly to be eye level as he spoke. “We stayed plenty, I know you have work tomorrow, and plus..” He moved closer to your ear to whisper. “.. I couldn’t do this in there.” He lowered one of his hands to your ass and squeezed before pressing you both against the elevator wall. He moved his lips against yours and kissed you, it was a desperate kiss. “You like being my girl huh?”

You can’t help but giggle when he calls you his girl again. You bite your lip before answering. “I do..” He lowers his hand to the hem of your dress and traces his fingers over your inner thigh

“Fuck baby, I nee-” The ding of the elevator doors opening interrupts you both. “Fuck!” Bucky curses everything stopping him from touching you right now. He presses the button to close the doors and immediately after presses the alarm button. The elevator makes a clank noise before it goes silent again, the only sound being you trying to catch your breath after that kiss. Bucky goes back to kissing you but starts on your neck and starts going lower and lower. When his teeth graze over your nipple through your dress you push him back slightly.

“Bucky we can’t here..” You whisper, knowing he can hear your heart beating, you needed him just as bad as he needed you.

“Baby.. I’ll fuck my girl anywhere I want to.” He says before returning to your tits. You bite back a moan which Bucky notices. Your sex life from bucky wasn’t boring by any means but it had never felt as intense as this. The thrill of being in public was sending chills through you.

“Oh shit.. Bucky please.

He lifts your dress up and pulls your panties to the side, using his other hand he unties his jeans and pulls them down enough for his already hard cock to fall out. He rubs his hand over it a couple times and looks at you. “Spit on it for me.” His words send flutters through your stomach and down to your pussy, and you do as he says.

“You ready?”

You nod as you answer, “Pleasee.”

He lifts you up and rubs the tip of his cock against your pussy, gathering your slick before he pushes in. “Fuck, my girls got such a tight pussy.” He keeps pushing until he’s fully in, hitting that spot that makes you grab onto his shoulders, your nails digging into him, which he likes. “You feel so good baby.”

“Fuck.. Bucky please..” He feels so good but his thrusts are slow and you need more.

“What do you need?” He smirks at you, knowing exactly what you need but waiting until you ask for it.

“Fuck me..” Your head falls back, Bucky’s hand cups it to stop it hitting the wall. “Please.”

He chuckles at the desperation in your voice, “Anything for you my sweet girl.” His thrusts fasten and you feel yourself racing towards your high. You use your hands to steady yourself as he fucks into you. You bite your lip to stifle your moan but Bucky doesn’t like that. “Don’t do that baby.. Don’t hide your pretty little noises. I wanna hear you. Want the whole tower to hear how you sound when I fuck you.”

“Fuck.. Bucky you feel so good. I think I’m gonn-”

“I know baby, it’s okay. Let go for me.” He moves his hand from behind your head and wraps it around your neck. The cold from his touch and him speeding up was enough to send you over the edge.

“Fuckkkk.. Bucky I’m cum- I’m cumming.”

“Oh Fuck.. I’m there too, baby.” He groans, almost whimpers in your ear. “Feel s’good baby.” He slows his thrusts down as you both come down from your highs.

When you don’t respond he looks at you. “You okay?”

You can’t speak but you nod your head.

“You all cockdrunk?”

“Mhmm.”

“Such a good girl for me.” He strokes the side of your face and plants a soft kiss on your lips. “Let’s get you home, sweet girl.”

He slowly inches out of you and sets you down. You stumble a little and grab onto his shoulder to steady yourself.

“Thank you Buck.”

“You don’t need to thank me, come on let’s get you home.” He puts his arm around your waist before reaching over and pressing the alarm button again.

The doors of the elevator open and Sam is standing there, his eyes bulge open before he laughs. You immediately stand up straight and try make yourself look like you haven’t just been fucked moments before but it was obvious.

You feel your skin warm at being caught but Bucky just laughs beside you like it was no big deal. “I should’ve known it was you two lovebirds causing trouble. Now I know no ones really stuck, I’ll see you guys later”

“Bye Sam.” You manage to mumble before Bucky pulls you closer, you look at each other and have to hold in your laughter.

“See ya Wilson.”

“I love you sweet girl.”

“I love you more.”

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woodland-gremlin · 4 months

Text

Summoning Your Secret Boyfriend Pt. 7

This part was brought to you by the amazing @megasweetbones . They wrote this part, I simply edited it. Go check them and their work! Show them some love!

First Previously AU Summary

“Were you the ones that summoned me, freeing from the bane that is paperwork?” the being asked.

Constantine was momentarily thrown for a loop, but the Brit was able to right himself more quickly than any of the other heroes.

"We summoned you to make a deal. I'm offering my soul-"

"Let me stop you there." The King's smile was mocking. And probably terrifying to everyone else, given his fangs. His lichtenberg lightning marks spasming in a way that could be mistaken as agitation. "I know who you are, John Constantine. Many hold claim to fragments of your soul. But, even if that was not the case, I am the one who holds claim to all souls. As all souls have , and will, pass through the Infinite. Your soul holds no weight here. Neither does your mind or body. Do not bargain with them. And do not bargain with me. Simply tell me why it is you summoned me, as I already know what I want from you."

Constantine looked like he didn't know whether to be offended or not. But it seems fear won out, as well as desperation.

"Forgive me, please, your majesty. Trigon has threatened to destroy our universe, starting with Earth. We have summoned you here to ask that Trigon be forced to return to the Infinite Realms. Or, to at least be stopped from devouring our universe."

It was as if everything paused. The billow of the wind, crackling ice, the flicker of the candles, the shifting of the lightning scars and cape of stars.

"He has threatened... what?" Quiet, almost shocked, the words passed from the Ghost King's lips.

Lips which twisted into a snarl. Fangs elongated. Flickering candles became green blazes. Wind roared back into whipping gales. The King's body distorted with his rage. Unfathomable and nightmarish.

"He dares to Challenge me?!? My Rule? My Authority? He knows of how this world has those under my protection and, yet, still believes he can touch what is MINE?"

If Red Robin and Supernova hadn't already been exposed to this Eldritch madness and the Realms, frequently, they'd probably be near catatonic. Like the other heroes. Most were on the ground or leaning against something. Aquaman looked sea sick. Flash was shockingly still for once. Even Batman couldn’t handle the madness the King oozed.

Supernova can smell that at least two people have pissed themselves. Euwh. What an awful day to have a nose. Especially with his heightened sense of smell. Phantom could probably smell it too, though was uncaring in his rage.

At least Constantine was able to speak in the face of an angry Ancient who Rules the Infinite. His experience with powerful otherworldly beings that could end him at any moment coming in play.

"Please, let us know what deal it is you wish to make in order to have Trigon stopped. He will be here very soon."

"I want you to abolish the Anti-Ecto Acts and free the souls of my citizens, who were captured and experimented on under such heinous laws." Phantom turned to look at Red Robin and Supernova, who should have pretended to be affected like the others. As it stands though, they were standing there. Unshaken and unaffected. "There are those among you who have already worked to undo the damage. But they should not be forced to work alone. I want all of you to support them and my people you have wronged. I want my people returned, safe and sound."

Phantom was finally able to calm down as he spoke. Wind slowed down and candles went back to but a flicker. He turned back to look Constantine dead in the eyes.

"Make no mistake, I would have fought for the Earth, and this universe, the moment I was made aware of Trigon. I have my own reasons for protecting this world and its people. But I expect the same in return. In that you are protecting the health, well-being, and safety of your people? I must do the same. Free my people and erase the laws that allow your kind to hunt us for sport and science. This is not a deal, as it's my job to prevent my people from destroying the Balance. No, this is a warning. My people may question why I'd save yours, given these laws. My people want war. While I deal with Trigon, you will undo the mistakes of your government. Or else, banishing Trigon would be for nothing."

With that, the King left. Ice and the haunting aura leaving with him.

Constantine looked over at the two young men who stood, casual and unmoving. He, as well as every other person in the room, was still shaking. The whole situation called for a drink, or a dozen. But he knew that he needed to get everyone in order to fulfill their end of the deal. The Bat would just knock down any liquor once he was aware and the Anti-Ecto Acts were too important to deal with while drunk. Bullocks.

To be continued?

Note: Hoped you guys enjoyed that! @megasweetbone really out did themselves. Now the question is this a good place to finish? There isn't much more I would add but some aftermath so I want you guys to tell me if I should just leave it as is or not. Once it is finished I am going to ask the others who helped with the story ( @fanfics-or-dragons and @megasweetbones ) if I can post it on Ao3! After all I want to properly credit them so knowing if they have an account so I can add them as a guest writer or credit them another way. Tell me your thoughts in the comments!

-Gremlin

Edit: I have decide to post it on Ao3. If I decide to add anymore it will be in an epilogue or another story. Thanks for your support!

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avis-writeshq · 11 months

Text

02 — haunted

summary: “something’s gone terribly wrong, you’re all i wanted.”/“you’re not gone, you can’t be gone.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst warnings: rated 16+ for alcohol, religious talk (inaccurate portrayal of Christianity), vomit, INCREDIBLY CANON COMPLIANT ‼️IF YOU WERE TRIGGERED BY S2 EP15 REVELATIONS IN CRIMINAL MINDS, DO NOT READ THIS‼️ wc: 10.1k a/n: another special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading and hyping me up!! love you loads zahra 🤎 (she's also doing an AMAZING derek morgan series that i have the honour in beta-in so if you have time please do check it out!! it is an absolute work of art) SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

There is never a dull day when working at the BAU. After weeks of cases and paperwork, a night out was exactly what everyone needed. A place to get drunk, have fun and unwind– and O'Keefe's was the exact place to do just that.

“You know, you can at least try to look like you’re having fun,” Emily muses, nudging your shoulder.

Emily joined the team soon after Elle had resigned, and as much as you missed your friend, you enjoyed Emily’s company. She’s too observant for her own good; grinning at you from across the room whenever you have the slightest interaction with certain people. She’s a brilliant addition to the team, much to your chagrin, but you know it’s all in good fun. Well, all in good fun for her.

You shoot her a playful glare, sipping on your drink. “I am having fun!”

“Liar,” Emily says instantly, grinning at you. “C’mon, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you deny, “I’m just tired. Things have been… busy to say the least. I’m just glad that the team is getting some R&R. Well deserved, might I add. How are you? You know, with joining the team and all that.”

She smiles in your direction before downing a shot and shrugging. “It’s been good! Yeah, everyone is so… welcoming. It’s nice.”

“Different to a desk job?” You ask with a teasing lilt in your voice.

Emily laughs softly. “Yeah, totally.”

Your gaze shifts to where Spencer is sitting, for once enjoying himself in such a crowded area. He’s talking to two strangers at a table, his hands gesticulating as he explains something and the two people seem thoroughly amused.

“So… Spencer, huh?”

You frown. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

Emily laughs, “You’re staring at him with heart eyes. Anyone can tell. Except for him, apparently.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“For a profiler, you’re a horrible liar.”

You let out something that sounds akin to a dying cow, turning your attention back to your drink. Your attention wavers and it shifts back to Spencer who is enthusiastically talking about something to the two amused guests. He grins at them as they drink, his own cup still full. Derek is thoroughly enjoying himself as he dances with a group of girls, and you can see Aaron and Haley dancing together on the floor as well. It’s wholesome, seeing everyone in their casual wear and just having fun.

“You should talk to him,” Emily tries again, nudging you. “I’ll buy you a drink if you do.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re bribing me to talk to my best friend?”

“I’m bribing you to give me entertainment,” she corrects, laughing.

“You’re horrible,” you tell her, smiling, as you walk past her in Spencer’s direction. “I expect that drink to be delivered to me.”

“Deal!” She calls after you, downing a shot as she watches you.

Spencer smiles when he sees you make your way over to him, shuffling his chair to the side to give you more room.

“Hi,” he murmurs, pulling your seat closer to him. “Having fun?”

“I should be asking that to you,” you respond, smiling. The two people he was once talking to take their leave, giggling about something you couldn’t quite make out. “I didn’t mean to scare away your company.”

He immediately shakes his head at your words. “I’d rather talk to you anyway.”

You can’t help the silly grin that spreads across your face or the way your cheeks heat up and you cough. “Well, I hope I can live up to your expectations.”

Spencer laughs, his hand gravitating to your knee and he squeezes good-naturedly. “You exceed them.”

You think he’s trying to kill you and you swear you stop breathing as you choke out, “I’m glad.”

It isn’t long before Emily makes good on her promise, and a waiter appears on your left. He presents a drink to your table, the glass adorned with a lemon rind and a raspberry, and you eagerly take a gulp.

Spencer frowns a little as he watches you drink. “Aren’t you going to question who it’s from?”

“I know who it’s from,” you respond cheerfully, letting out a contented sigh. You offer the drink to him, moving the straw so that it’s pointing in his direction. “Want some?”

He eyes the pink drink suspiciously. “What is it?”

“It’s a Pink Bikini!” You chirp, sipping the drink again. “Like… coconut rum, raspberries, and lemonade. It’s good, Spence, you can barely taste the alcohol.”

His nose scrunches at the idea of coconut rum. “I dunno.”

“You’re not gonna get drunk from one sip,” you protest happily, a little tipsy. “It’s good! Besides, how do you know you’re not going to like it if you never try it?”

“You’re literally drunk right now!” He points out, laughing a little and moving the drink out of your reach. “Give it to me.”

“That’s only because I had a couple drinks earlier,” you argue, lunging for the glass. You’re quick but Spencer is quicker (and taller), and he chugs the drink before slamming it back onto the table. “Spencer!”

He grins at you, smacking his lips as he plays with the paper straw. “I’m protecting you, (Y/N). Who knows what you would’ve done if you drank any more.”

“You’re insufferable,” you chastise half-heartedly, “I was thirsty.”

“I have water,” he says, fishing a plastic bottle out of his satchel. He cracks the lid open, taking a sip himself before passing it to you. “Drinking even moderate amounts of alcohol can lead to dehydration. Drinking water slows down this effect, allowing the liver to metabolise the alcohol that was already consumed. This also means you won’t have as bad a hangover tomorrow morning.”

You beam at him, taking tentative sips from his water bottle. The fact that you’re drinking from the same bottle as him is not lost on you, nor the fact that he finished your drink by using your straw– your lipgloss stained straw– and he didn’t even bat an eye.

“What would I do without you?” You croon, handing his bottle back.

“Probably die of dehydration,” he responds, taking one last gulp of water, before returning the bottle back to his bag.

“Ah, yes, that’s right,” you laugh again, beaming at him. You’re not sure if it’s from the drinks, but you can feel your cheeks begin to flush. Did it get hotter in here?

“Hey, sorry to be the bearer of bad news but we have a case,” JJ pats your shoulder sympathetically, frowning. “Horrible timing, but it’s urgent.”

You all but whine. “But I’m tipsy.”

“I’ve got aspirin in my bag,” JJ says, “you’ll be fine.”

“Stupid serial killer,” you huff, getting up from your seat. “They owe me a day off.”

***

“You know it never fails. Just as I’m getting my groove thang going, bam! We’re back at the BAU,” Derek says, pouring himself a much needed cup of coffee and sitting at the roundtable.

Spencer shrugs. “You know, statistically, a case doesn’t come in with any more frequency if you’re at a party or gathering than if you aren’t. It’s a… trick of the mind. We merely remember the ones that came in that way more.”

“Besides, how long does it take for you to get your ‘groove thang’ going anyway?” You tease, sipping from your own cup of coffee, and Emily cackles from beside you.

“Only when he’s sleeping,” Gideon comments, walking into the conference room and taking off his coat.

Hotch’s brows raise in a mixture of surprise and concern. “Where were you tonight?”

“I told you, I went to the Smithsonian,” he grunts as he sits into his chair.

“You missed a good time,” Emily insists, smiling.

“I had a good time,” Gideon responds, his attention turning back to the screen where JJ was getting ready to present the latest case.

“Well, that’s definitely over,” she says, flicking the screen on. “Georgia. The Kyles– Dennis and Lacy– were murdered an hour ago in the suburban Atlanta home.”

Hotch’s brows raise in surprise. “An hour ago?”

JJ nods. “Police were on the scene unusually fast.”

“Why?” Derek asks, leaning over the table.

“One of the UnSubs called them and told them that the other was about to murder the victims.”

You huff out a laugh in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“From inside the house.” JJ purses her lips, gesturing to the transcript that was printed out in their files. “According to the dispatcher, the first male sounded terrified and begged them to get there before the other, who they both identified as Raphael, was about to kill the sinners that lived there.”

“‘Sinners’?” Hotch echoes.

JJ nods again, a grimace painted over her features. “The 911 centre is going to send Garcia the tape.”

“How fast was the police response time?” Spencer asks, glancing at the screen.

“Four minutes, twenty-six seconds. During which time Raphael was able to do…” JJ clicks a button on the remote and an array of gruesome crime scene photos popped up onto the screen. “This.”

“In four and a half minutes?” Emily asks incredulously, frowning.

Garcia immediately turns away from the screen, clutching her mug closer to her chest. You can’t help but cringe as well from the violence presented in the photos: blood everywhere, smeared across the walls and floors of the house, and the victims lifeless.

“Mr. Kyle is a dot-com millionaire. His company is one of the largest employers in the community. There’s going to be media coverage. Also, when they arrived, the police found this displayed prominently on the bed.”

Another image appears on the screen, this time a page of the Bible placed into a plastic evidence bag with a certain section highlighted.

“Revelation, Chapter 6, Verse 8,” Hotch reads for the rest of the team.

Derek can’t help but scoff. “They’re killing sinners.”

“These guys are on a mission. And mission-based killers will not stop killing,” Spencer says with a wince.

“‘And I looked, and behold, a pale horse, and his name that sat upon him was Death,” Hotch begins, eyes trained on the Bible page.

Gideon continues, his voice quiet and grim, “And Hell followed with him.”

***

You sigh tiredly as you slump into the seat beside Spencer, playing with the cap of your water bottle. The sky outside is painted in oranges and purples as the sun begins to rise, and you try to hold back the frustrated groan when you see the blaring ‘4:22AM’ flash on your watch.

“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks quietly, looking over at you.

You shake your head, running your fingers through your hair. “I just… I have a bad feeling about this case. There’s something… off about it.”

He hums in thought, “we’ve dealt with religious motives before, though.”

“I know but just–” you huff, leaning against the headrest. “It’s just weird. I mean, usually if one of the UnSubs were partnered with someone who was a liability, they’d eliminate them. But that’s just not happening here.”

“Don’t think about the case,” Spencer says gently, resting the palm of his hand flat against your knee. “It’ll be fine, trust me.”

When you don’t respond, he pokes your cheek gently shooting you a lopsided smile. “Hey. It’ll be okay.”

“I hope it will be,” you respond quietly, moving so that your cheek is pressed against his shoulder. “But you saw those images; what the UnSubs can do in less than five minutes. I know it’s nothing we haven’t seen before but–”

“(Y/N).” He squeezes your knee again and you flush as he continues to speak. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be back home before you know it. Trust me.”

You nod, although you can’t shake this feeling off. “Promise you’ll be safe?”

Spencer smiles at you. “Promise.”

***

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you mutter, turning away as the video of Mr. Kyle being murdered plays on repeat. Your stomach churns at the mere mental image that pops up in your mind, and a chill run downs your spine.

The case is a lot more gruesome than you expected it to be, especially when it came to the team’s attention that a video of the murder was circulating the internet. The video was currently being played on loop, with the voice of the UnSubs playing out of the computer. You thought you saw it all but this was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

That is, until Spencer stood from his seat.

“Agent Franks?” He whispers, looking towards the lead detective. “Does this building have wireless internet?”

Agent Franks nods. “Yeah. Why?”

Spencer swallows, gesturing to the computer. “That camera’s on right now. The computer has connected itself to the internet; it’s streaming a video feed somewhere.”

Hotch’s concern only deepens, along with the frown on his face. “Can we trace the stream to the destination?”

“If we keep it open, Garcia might be able to–” Spencer begins, only to be cut off by a beeping from the computer.

In bright red lettering, the words: ‘THE ARMIES OF SATAN SHALL NOT PREVAIL’ flash against the black screen before turning off.

“So, they’re controlling it remotely?” Hotch asks, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Is that even possible?” Emily asks in disbelief.

“Yeah, you can totally access someone’s computer remotely. It’s actually done a lot today when a mortal calls for tech support. Instead of giving you instructions the tech can work on your computer from wherever she is,” Garcia explains through the phone.

“And they maintain the access even after the work is done?” Hotch asks.

“They’re not supposed to, but I suppose you could install a Trojan horse.”

Spencer turns to Gideon. “Something left in the computer to be turned on later. It’s the same way that websites get pop-up ads onto your computer.”

“Garcia can you check the Kyles’ phone records and see if they called tech support in the last six months?” Hotch requests as he flips through the Kyle family’s folder.

“Right-o. Oh, and if you get me the laptop I can search the drive for anything implanted there.”

Hotch nods. “As fast as we can.”

“By the way, this video? It’s gone crazy viral.”

Gideon frowns. “What does that mean?”

“That means it’s the most downloaded video on the entire Internet. Worldwide. And judging by the responses people seem to think it’s pretty cool.”

“Call us if you find anything on the Kyles’ computer,” Hotch mutters, before the phone hangs up.

“Honestly, they probably don’t even realise that the video is real,” you say quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I mean, you see a video on the internet. The last thing you’d think is that it’s actual people being murdered.”

“They probably think that it’s marketing for a horror film or something,” JJ adds on, but the look on her face is just as disgusted.

“Well, the UnSubs were right about one thing,” Derek mutters, nodding grimly. “The world is pretty screwed up.”

***

After hours of going through files and trying to find a paper trail, you’re left with a mountain of paperwork in front of you and sore eyes. You press the pads of your fingers against the corner of your eyes, slumping over the table.

“Hey.”

Spencer’s voice brings you out of your thoughts and you peek a look at him. “Hm?”

A takeaway cup of coffee is placed in front of you and you immediately perk up. He chuckles softly, patting your head. “You looked like you needed it.”

You spy the name written across the paper cup and frown. “It’s your coffee.”

“You need it more than me,” he says honestly, smiling. “Besides, I’m okay.”

You take a tentative sip of the drink, the sweetness of the sugar overwhelming the bitter taste of the coffee but you don’t mind it. Instead, you didn’t actually mind it; especially because it’s from him.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “We can share it if you want.”

He shakes his head ‘no’, turning back to the files on the page. “Where did you get up to?”

“Nowhere special. Agent Franks is right; there’s nothing in any of the files relating to knife fights that are remotely similar to the case,” you say, slumping against the table and leaning your head on your arm. “I’ve got six or so left to go through but I’m not getting much luck anyway.”

At that moment, JJ enters the room, holding another cream coloured file. “What if we were looking at this the wrong way?”

Hotch turns to her. “What do you mean?”

“I looked for unsolved home invasions. Three months ago there was a prowler called in directly outside of the Kyles’ house.”

Your brows knit together at her words and look up at her. “A prowler?”

JJ nods. “The witness was walking his dog in a nearby park. Going back to his car, he saw a man in dark clothing go over the back wall and start sneaking up to the house. By the time the police got there, the prowler was gone.”

“Only one man?” Hotch asks.

“Apparently.”

“Was the witness able to describe the man?” Spencer questions.

JJ looks into the papers before shaking her head. “If he did, it’s not in this case file.

Hotch looks at JJ then back at the corkboard. “Is there a name and address to the witness?”

“Tobias Hankel,” JJ reads. “Lives about an hour from here.”

Hotch lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes. “It’s a long shot, but he might be able to give us a description. Why don’t you and Reid go out there, see if you can find Mr Hankel, and see if he remembers anything.”

You immediately frown, perking up at his words. “I can go too, sir. There’s a safety in numbers.”

“You’re exhausted and we need you here,” Hotch says, immediately shutting your suggestion down. “We don’t need three people to talk to a witness.”

Your face falls and your stomach churns. “I understand that, sir, but it’s late and wouldn’t it be safer if more people go?”

“We’ll be fine,” Spencer reassures, squeezing your arm. “We’ll be armed and we’ve got our phones.”

A small breath escapes you and you nod slowly, chewing your bottom lip. “Okay. Be safe.”

He smiles. “I will.”

JJ snickers lightly, turning to Hotch. “Be safe,” she echoes, grinning.

Hotch can’t help but chuckle as he returns with, “I’ll be so safe.”

“Oh shut up,” you laugh, rolling your eyes. “I’m gonna kill you.”

JJ grins. “But how will that keep us safe?”

You throw an eraser at her shoulder in response and she laughs loudly, walking out of the room. Spencer squeezes your arm again, rubbing your shoulder through the fabric of his jumper before following after her.

It isn’t long before the lead detective rushes into the room, his words flying out of his mouth. “Agent Hotchner, we got another murder.”

***

“Tobias Hankel is the UnSub.”

Five words is all it takes for your world to come crashing down around you. Hankel? The UnSub? Your mouth is dry as the head detective explains about the dogs and you think you’re going to throw up. Your mind spins and your chest pounds with anxiety because oh God, what’s going to happen to the others?

“We sent Spencer and JJ there,” you whisper, your throat closing up. You tug desperately at your collar, trying to breathe. “Oh my God, we sent them there. We sent them there.”

“Hey, hey,” Derek is quick to ground you, gripping your shoulders firmly. “They’ll be okay. It’s Spencer Genius Reid and Jennifer Bad-ass Jareau. They’ll be okay.”

You shake your head firmly, pulling away from his grasp and clutching your head. “I should be there with them. I should have gone with them. We don’t know what Tobias is capable of, Morgan, something could have happened to them.”

“We’re dispatching police now,” the detective says, getting off the phone.

Tears spill from the corners of your eyes and you try to keep your breathing steady. It doesn’t work. The room is spinning and you can’t see straight. The words your team are trying to get through to you fades into background noise and you let out a choked sob.

“They could be–” Your words don’t make it off your tongue and you turn, gesturing to the black screen that was once playing the video of the woman and the dogs. “Oh my God.”

“(Y/N),” Emily holds your shoulders tightly, her words a mixture of firmness and care as she tries to snap you out of it. “They’re going to be okay. We have to go there now.”

“They can’t be gone. Spencer can’t be gone,” you say, more to yourself than anything. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s go. We have to find them.”

The others don’t need to be told twice. You get into the passenger seat with Emily, trying to calm your breathing. One hour is too long. Why does Tobias have to live so far away? You press the palm of your hand to your mouth, the lump in your throat getting bigger. Hot tears fall down your cheeks as the world becomes a blur of flashing lights and you try not to cry. It’s your fault. You should have been there with him. There’s safety in numbers. Why didn’t you trust your gut?

“Don’t do that,” Emily says sternly, gripping the wheel tighter.

You can’t bring yourself to respond, merely shaking your head adamantly.

“Stop blaming yourself,” Emily tries again, glancing at you for a second before turning her attention back to the road. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should be there with them.” Your voice cracks pathetically and you wipe furiously at your eyes.

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have.”

She looks at you again. “Stop. You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault.”

The rest of the car ride is silent. You’ve learned that this is the hardest part of the job: losing someone. Losing someone because of a job. It seems ridiculous, considering that it’s something so miniscule in the grand scheme of things, and yet it is the most common factor in divorces. A lack of commitment. Instead of committing to something that actually matters and can’t be replaced, their attention turns to something so lacklustre. If Spencer were here he would tell you the exact statistics. If Spencer were here, you wouldn’t even need to think about the statistics.

The sound of sirens echo through the once quiet country area and the police officers file out of their cars. You fasten your Kevlar vest over your chest hastily, fumbling with the clasps as you jump out of the car.

“John, Bobby, take the house with Hotch, Gideon and (L/N),” the captain orders, pointing towards the house.

Your stomach lurches as Hotch busts the door open, and you move upstairs with your gun pointed out.

“Clear!” You yell, rendezvousing with Hotch and Gideon soon after.

“Downstairs is clear,” Hotch says, nodding towards you.

“Then where the hell is he?” Gideon mutters, looking around the rooms of the house.

The blood rushes to your ears and the air grows thick. You can’t breathe. The house is unmaintained with mould growing in the corners of the rooms and dust gathering on the shelves, the paint on the walls cracking from water damage. Your eyes sting as the air pricks at your skin, and your legs carry you down the stairs and out the house.

“JJ,” you breathe, your eyes wide as you meet the blonde sitting at the back of an ambulance. You pull her into a hug. “You’re okay.”

It’s a different JJ to what you’re used to. She’s always been put together with not a hair out of place. She’s usually so full of life and mirth, bringing a sense of serenity and security when you need it most but this…

Her blue eyes are red and puffy from crying and she’s shaking miserably against your body. She scratches at her wrists and picks at the bandages, her bottom lip trembling. Her gun is set beside her, not in the holster she usually carries it in.

“(Y/N),” she sobs, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“What happened?” You demand. “Where’s Spencer?”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeats, shaking her head. “I tried–”

“Where is he, Jennifer?” You ask, pulling away from her like she burned you. “Where is he?”

She sobs again, clutching her head. “I don’t know, we separated–”

“What do you mean you separated?!” You’re trying not to scream. Your thoughts are running a million miles an hour. Spencer is gone. He’s gone. “Why would you do that?”

Jennifer lets out a wail, trying to explain herself through broken words. “We didn’t– he said– I’m sorry I’m sorry–”

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t bring him here, does it?” The words are harsh and low, and you tug at your collar again. “He’s not here, Jennifer! Does that mean nothing to you?!”

“(L/N), that’s enough.”

Hotch’s voice makes you snap your head in his direction and you see red.

“I told you I should have gone with them,” you snap, and it doesn’t even occur to you that this man is your boss. “If I went with them, Spencer would still be here right now!”

“(L/N).”

“No.” You glare at him menacingly, too deep in your anger to even comprehend anything else. “He should be here right now! He should– he should be spouting out statistics or coming up with some theory! He should be here and he’s not!”

“We’ll find him. Trust me.”

“I did!” You yell, your voice fervent. “I trusted your judgement! And look where that got us. Spencer is gone. He’s not here, Hotch, because I trusted you!”

“(Y/N), enough.” Hotch is firm and he stares you down. “That is enough, do I need to remind you who you are speaking to?”

In an instant you stop, your heart lurching and you quiver. “... This is my fault.”

He immediately shakes his head no. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should have gone with him. I should have– it’s my fault. It’s my fault.” Your eyes well with tears and you tug at your hair erratically. “He can’t be gone. He’s not gone. He’ll figure something out. Why didn’t I do something? I should have–”

“Stop it. (Y/N), stop.” Hotch grips your shoulders squarely, bending down so that he’s eye level with you. “Take deep breaths.”

Your lungs burn as you try to breathe, hot ragged breaths leaving your lips shakily as you cover your face with the palms of your hands. Tears fall down your cheeks and gather in your hands as you make a desperate attempt to calm yourself down. It’s all too much. The sky is pitch black and the feeling of cold rain stings and bites your skin. The sounds of sirens fade away and for a moment it’s just quiet. Quiet, except for the words and the voices that swirl in your mind.

“A man that matches Hankel’s description was spotted in the next town over.”

Derek’s words bring you out of your thoughts and you manage a soft, “What?”

“Alright,” Hotch nods, before turning back to you. “Go back to the police department.”

“What?” Your ears are ringing. You must have heard wrong. “No. No, no, I can’t– no, Hotch, I’m not going back to the police department. Spencer is missing.”

“You’re too close to the case.”

A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you stare at him. “We’re all too close to the case, Hotch. Look around!”

“You attacked JJ and you raised your voice at me. I want you to go back to the police department and work the case from there.” He speaks to you as if he were speaking to a child and it makes you feel sick.

“Oh, so you’re punishing me?”

“No, I’m using you,” he says firmly, and then his voice softens. “It won’t do you any good to be here, (Y/N), you know that.”

“Aaron,” you try again, your voice wavering. “Please, don’t do this to me.”

“Go back and find us something that we can use.” He turns to one of the policemen. “Make sure she gets there.”

The policeman nods, tipping his hat, and gesturing for you to follow him.

“Wait I– let me talk to JJ. I need– just, please,” you say quickly, clearing your throat. “Sir.”

He’s sceptical before nodding. “Go ahead.”

You don’t need to be told twice. In moments you turn back to the ambulance, letting out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry.”

JJ shakes her head adamantly. “No, you’re right. It was my fault.”

“It’s not,” you say quietly. “I know Spencer and I know you. It was… probably his idea to split up.”

She smiles wryly, fiddling at the bandage on her arm.

“It’s not your fault,” you say again. You’re not sure who you’re trying to convince anymore. “You went through something too and I ignored that and that wasn’t right of me. I’m sorry.”

JJ sniffles, pursing her lips. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you respond quietly, patting her arm. “I need to go. Um, Hotch wants me off the case, or something.”

She nods. “Okay.”

You look at her again, the guilt building like bile in your stomach. “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” she whispers, wiping the tears away from her eyes. “We’ll find him.”

You don’t respond.

***

Everything hurts. His head is pounding and he can feel the sticky blood drip from the side of his head and against his cheek. His feet hurt from each thwack of wood, and his wrists hurt from the handcuffs. It’s cold. So, so cold, and he feels so weak. No amount of knowledge or training could have prepared him for this.

Spencer’s throat throbs from crying. No matter how many times he tries to convince whatever personality is taking over Tobias, it never seems to work. What’s the point of being a profiler if he can’t even save himself?

The creaking of the door brings him out of his thoughts and he jolts. Tobias, at least who appears to be Tobias, enters the room carrying a slaughtered animal. A shiver runs down Spencer’s spine and all he can do is watch.

“You need to eat,” the man says, his voice strangely soft and oddly calm.

“What’s your name?” Spencer asks, his voice small.

The man looks back at him. “Tobias.”

“Tobias, who was here before?” The fear is obvious in his voice and Spencer just wishes for an ounce of Hotch’s stoicism or Derek’s bravery.

Tobias chuckles weakly. “It was probably my father. I’m sorry if he hurt you.”

Before he could comprehend his movements, Tobias takes off his belt and walks over to him. Spencer fears the worst. Did Tobias’s father take over again? He tries to inch away, struggling against the restraints as best he could.

“W-What are you doing?” Spencer asks shakily, trying to pull away from him.

Tobias doesn’t respond, slipping one end of the belt above his elbow. Everything begins to click.

“No, no. Don’t. Please, please don’t.” He resorts to begging.

In this moment, Spencer hates the way his mind works because he doesn’t need to know the statistics. He doesn’t need to know that 75% of drug abusers started out using pain killers. His head swirls with what Tobias could be using. Codeine? Heroin? Opium? The list goes on and he tries to keep his breathing steady.

“It helps,” Tobias says, ignoring the way Spencer trembles and shakes his head adamantly. “Don’t tell my father. He doesn’t know they’re here.”

Tobias takes the syringe and the bottle out of his pocket and Spencer sobs even harder. He tries to appease him again, shrinking away as best he could in his chair.

“Please,” he tries again, his chest heaving and tears wetting his waterline. “Please, I don’t want it, I don’t want it.”

“Trust me. I know.”

“Please,” he begs, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Don’t.”

Tobias doesn’t listen.

The effects are far too quick for codeine, heroin or opium and Spencer can feel it hit. He knows it’s wrong. He can go on for hours about the statistics about it but the feeling so euphoric that he can’t help it. And then he sees it.

“We have another recruit as well. Came in a couple weeks ago,” Derek told him, walking him through the halls of the BAU headquarters. “She’s part of the academy Honours program. Top of the class, apparently.”

“Oh.” Spencer nodded slowly, fidgeting with the zip of his bag.

Derek grinned. “Relax, kid. You still have the most impressive résumé. She’s just an intern; doing paperwork, mainly.”

“I wasn’t– I wasn’t worried about that,” Spencer stammered, wetting his bottom lip. “I mean– not that I think she isn’t smart or anything. I just meant–”

“Kid, I mean it when you have to relax,” Derek snorted as he opens up the door to the bullpen “Meet the rest of the team.”

He walked through the doors, ready to make his mark. He’s spent so long believing that he was nothing but now… he took another step, meeting Hotch’s gaze and– he didn’t get very far when something catapulted into his side. There was a flurry of paper work and cream coloured files, case details splayed all over the floor. Spencer grunted a little, tumbling to the ground like a house of cards.

“Oh, my God, I am– I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going and I was running and I am not used to office attire! I am so sorry!”

The ramblings of a girl– she couldn’t be older than him, at least, not by much– filled Spencer’s ears and he grimaces. “No, it’s– it’s okay. Don’t– uh– don’t worry about it.”

“(Y/N)...” JJ huffed out a quiet laugh, helping the other girl to her feet. “Are you guys okay?”

“I’m okay,” Spencer said, slowly getting to his feet.

The girl didn’t do the same, instead scrambling to pick up the multitude of papers that litter the floor. “I’m fine! Just– great. Great. Brilliant.”

Spencer immediately started to reach for the papers, trying his best not crumple them up anymore than they already were. “You’re… the intern?”

“Is it that obvious?” You ask, breathless. “I’m still getting used to all…” You gesture wildly to the interior of the bullpen. “... this.”

“(Y/N), meet Doctor Spencer Reid. He’s the youngest addition to the team. Reid, meet (Y/N) (L/N). She’s part of the Academy Honours Program,” Gideon introduces, peering at the two of you from behind his glasses.

“Hi,” you said meekly, stretching out your hand.

His words hitched in his throat because once he’s gotten past the flying papers and the fact that you literally ran into him, he realises just how beautiful you are. You were right there in front of him, close enough to touch but–

“I don’t shake hands,” he said quietly, the anxiety gnawing at his stomach. His fingers twitch at his sides and he moves them to grip the handle of his satchel. “Sorry.”

You smile at him and his heart thunders in his chest. Is this how Romeo felt when he met Juliet? Or how Charles Bingley felt when he met Jane Bennett?

“It’s okay,” you told him, tucking the papers under your arm. “Don’t worry about it. So, you’re a doctor? That’s really cool!”

“Reid here got accepted into the BAU without even taking a physical exam,” Derek chimed in, practically bragging about Spencer’s intellectual prowess. “Isn’t that right, kid?”

“I’m not an athletic person,” Spencer said awkwardly, his worries dissipating when he heard you laugh good-naturedly. Regardless, he felt the urge to defend himself. “I’m not weak.”

JJ laughed along. “We know, Spencer.”

“I’m not weak… I’m not weak…”

“I don’t give a damn whether you’re weak or strong.”

Spencer barely manages to blink his eyes open as he hears the familiar timbre of Tobias’s father’s voice fill the room. He’s slowly coming down from the high of the drugs and the room spins as he does.

“Yell all you want boy,” Tobias sneers, bending down so that he’s eye level with Spencer. “Ain’t no one gonna hear you where you are.”

As if to prove his point, he begins to scream. Deep and rumbly, and it jolts Spencer back to reality. He wishes he was careful. He wishes he was with you.

***

“Tobias has dissociative identity disorder,” Garcia explains to you through the phone, and you slap a hand to your forehead.

“That makes so much sense,” You mutter to yourself, pacing around the room of the police department. “I should have seen it. It was right there in front of me and I missed it.”

Penelope hums, her voice tense with worry. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. No one knew until we started digging into the journals and cross-checking dates.”

“I know but–” You rub your eyes, cringing as stars litter your vision– “it was just so obvious. What else have you gotten?”

It has been a little over ten hours since Hotch sent you back to the police department and you haven’t gotten much sleep. You tried, you swear you tried, but every time you see the terrified face of Spencer and it makes you sick. The whiteboard in front of you is littered with different evidence files and profiles. Profiles on Tobias, profiles on the victims, geographical profiles… the list goes on.

“We know that Tobias is an addict,” Emily says. “He picked dilaudid as his poison.”

“For someone so hellbent on following the Bible, he’s incredibly hypocritical,” You say, jotting down the words onto the whiteboard.

“His personality is split into that of his father, Charles, and Raphael,” Emily continues, and you can hear the frown in her voice.

You’re about to say something when Garcia’s voice raises by an octave.

“Oh God,” she squeaks, and you can hear the clicking of keys in the background. “Morgan? Emily, get the others, oh my God!”

“What’s going on?” You demand urgently, gripping the phone tighter. “Garcia, what’s going on?”

“It’s Spencer,” her voice is hushed and far from the speaker, and your heart sinks to your stomach.

“What happened? Penelope, what happened?”

“We have to go,” she says hurriedly, and the sound of footsteps from the rest of the team fill the speaker.

“No! Wait, don’t hang—“

The sound of the prolonged dial tone echoes in your ears and you resist the urge to scream. You press the pads of your fingers to your eyes, hot tears wetting your skin. Crying will get you nowhere and you know that. You know that Spencer is holding on. He’s relying on the BAU to save him.

You gather all the available files on Charles Hankel, spreading them around the table. There’s not much to read; he’s lived a relatively quiet life. He was a farmer, his wife left him… dead end. Again. You’re at your wit’s end and you grab your keys.

“John, want to work on a federal case?” You ask, shaking your keys. The younger policeman nods eagerly and you point to the door. “Great. Let’s go.”

It’s a small country town in Atlanta. Someone has to know something, especially if Tobias was a drug abuser.

“We’re going to a few Narcotics Anonymous groups,” You explain to John who looks a little too excited to be sitting in a federal car. “Ask questions on Tobias Hankel and Charles Hankel. Someone has to know something.”

“All due respect, um, ma’am,” John stammers, and you raise an eyebrow amusedly. He coughs before continuing, “why aren’t you with the rest of the team?”

You falter, turning your attention back to the road. “They need me to work it from here. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

Two miserable hours pass by with not much luck. Two hours that could have been used for something more meaningful than asking a bunch of drugged up assholes about the UnSub. Anxiety claws at your chest again as you flick through the answers. It’s nothing you didn’t already know.

“I got something,” John says a little breathlessly, jogging back over to you.

“Yes?” You need something. Anything.

“A few sheep were stolen off of a farmer’s property,” he says, flipping through the notebook and reading off his scrawny handwriting. “Wasn’t Charles a farmer?”

“What does that have to do with–” You feel your mouth go dry and you turn to him. “Which farm?”

“Which– um…” He swallows. “Mcallister? Shawn Mcallister.”

In seconds you’re dialling Garcia again and she picks up with a trembling, “hello?”

“Is Spencer alive?” You ask firmly, slamming the car door.

“Y-Yes. He’s– it’s not good, (Y/N),” she whimpers, clicking on the keyboard. “There was another murder. Spencer had to– he had to– he had to choose who to save. The UnSub fed a video to us, (Y/N), it’s horrible.”

There was another murder? John seizes up beside you and you grimace. You keep forgetting that John is practically a kid, barely twenty-one, and he hasn’t even seen the horrors of the world yet.

“But he came back, right? To Spencer?” You ask, gripping the steering wheel tighter in an effort to keep yourself steady. “Penelope, Tobias posted a video of the latest murder, right? When was it posted?”

“9:23,” she says woefully, typing away.

“Okay, and…” you check the police radio, biting your lip nervously. “Okay, it says that the call for the murder came in at 9:04.”

There’s a little static in the background along with some shuffling before she responds. “Um… okay?”

“John, I need a map. Where’s– goddamn it– where’s the map of the area, John?!”

He fumbles, spreading the paper open. “Here!”

“That road– it’s 60 miles an hour, right? That means he needs to be–” you scribble across the map, frowning. “That’s within seventeen miles of the crime scene. There’s a farm, uh, poaching or something. Mcallister farm?”

“We’ll find something,” Penelope says quietly. “I’ll try find the farm area. He is going to be okay, I promise.”

You let out a heavy breath. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

***

The guilt alone is enough to kill him. Spencer knows that he is not at fault for this; Gideon said so. Regardless, he can’t get their faces out of his head. They were happy. What if they had kids? They were good people; they didn’t deserve to die the way they did. Spencer’s head pounds as he slumps against the chair, his breath quickening when he realises that Tobias is right there.

“Sorry, I had to leave for a while,” Tobias, the real Tobias, says quietly, strapping the belt to Spencer’s arm again.

He’s felt this so many times now. The high, and then the inevitable low. There’s no point fighting it, Spencer tries to justify, it’s biology.

“You can leave again,” he says softly, “and you can take me with you.”

“My father would be angry,” Tobias says, drawing the liquid up the syringe.

“Not if he can’t find us.”

Tobias scoffs. “He always finds me.”

“If you tell me where we are, my friends will come and they’ll save us,” Spencer pleads, trying to look him in the eye.

“We can’t be saved,” he says dismissively, flicking the syringe.

Spencer sniffles, and for a split second he feels the fear course through his veins. “We can. We can, I promise, if you tell me where we are I’ll save us both.”

“Listen to me. It’s not worth fighting.” Tobias pauses, readying the syringe. “Tell me it doesn't make it better.”

The silence that follows is humiliating. He hates the way that he isn’t fighting anymore but he can’t. It’s almost as if his body doesn’t even want to listen to him. Tobias doesn’t waste another moment and the familiar feeling of artificial ecstasy floods Spencer’s mind.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

The phrase was so unfamiliar and Spencer’s brows furrowed as he looked at you. It has been a couple weeks since you were officially indoctrinated into the BAU and he couldn’t be any happier. It felt nice to talk to someone who was his age, especially because he never really knew anyone of his age back in Las Vegas.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

You laughed and his heart fluttered in his chest. He remembered the feeling distinctly; how could he forget? The feeling is still the same now.

“I mean… tell me something not a lot of people know about you. Like… okay, I’ll go first. Um… my favourite flowers are hydrangeas. The purple ones.”

He committed that information to memory. Every year for your birthday he would buy you a new pot of hydrangeas for your apartment or something flower related like an automatic waterer or a replacement sun lamp.

“Hydrangea macrophylla,” Spencer said slowly, his cheeks flushed. “It means… gratitude, grace, and beauty. It’s fitting.”

He relished in the way your eyes lit up and the way you smiled at him. “Okay, your turn. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“Um… my middle name is Walter?” He chuckled awkwardly, wetting his bottom lip. “No one really calls me that, though.”

You typed something on your computer, reading out loud, “The name Walter is Germanic in origin and means ‘commander of the army’.”

His cheeks burned in embarrassment and he nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“I like it.” You grinned at him. “Walter.”

Spencer choked a little, the hairs on his neck standing on end and heat crawling up his cheeks. “You– you don’t have to call me that.”

“I won’t if you don’t like it,” you told him.

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” he said quickly, his eyes widening. “I’m just not used to it.”

He remembers the way you beamed at him and the way he felt knowing that he made you happy.

“Well then,” You began, meeting his gaze, “I guess that means I just have to call you that more often.”

Tobias’s yelling brings him back and all he can do is stare as he watches him slam on the keyboard angrily. A bright red pop up is flashing on his computer, and Tobias turns to Spencer with a murderous scowl.

“They’re trying to silence my message.”

“I can’t control what they do,” Spencer defends tearfully, his voice wavering. “I’m not with them, I’m with you.”

Tobias scoffs again. “Really?”

He types something onto the keyboard and Gideon’s face show’s up on the screen. He’s leaning towards the camera, his words a mantra that Spencer repeats in his mind.

“Reid,” the crackly audio sounds with Gideon’s voice, “if you’re watching, you’re not responsible for this, understand me? He’s perverting God to justify murder. You are stronger than him. He cannot break you.”

Tobias slams the computer off, walking back to him. “You think you can defy me?”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about–”

“You’re a liar!”

Spencer can only grimace in response, the words caught in his throat. Tobias must have been able to see something and the fear creeps into his heart again as the man lunges for his arm. Tobias forces Spencer’s sleeve up and the guilt crashes like waves.

“You’re pitiful,” Tobias sneers, “Just like my son.”

Spencer wracks out a sob, silent pleas of mercy never leaving his lips. Maybe he does deserve this. Maybe, in some sick and twisted way, the universe is out to get him for all his shortcomings. Maybe, he thinks to himself as he watches Tobias turn the camera on, maybe he does deserve to die this way.

“This ends now,” Tobias snarls. “Confess your sins.”

“No,” he whimpers.

Tobias’s fist collides with the side of Spencer’s face with a resounding slap.

“Confess!”

“I haven’t done anything…”

His fist meets Spencer’s cheek again and all he can do is recoil in his chair.

“Tobias, help me,” he manages, but his plea is shut down almost instantly.

“He can’t help you, he’s weak. Confess!” He hits him again and the pain is almost too much to bear. “Confess your sins.”

Spencer sobs. “No…”

In a fit of anger, Tobias throws Spencer to the ground. It hurts. Everything hurts as he feels the back of his head meet the cold musty ground. He can’t breathe. He feels like he’s underwater. Have to breathe, he needs to breathe, why can’t he breathe? He needs to see you again. He can’t die like this. He can’t, he can’t, he needs to breathe. He tries to take a breath of air but it’s like his mouth is full of water. And just when he thinks he reached the surface, he’s pulled under once again.

Warmth. The feeling of his blood pumping to his ears is the first thing Spencer feels and his fingers twitch. He’s alive. There’s only one reason why that must have happened.

“I was given CPR,” he rasps out, Tobias’s words swirling in his head.

“There are no accidents,” Tobias says slowly. “How many members are in your team?”

Spencer can barely whisper the word. “Eight.”

“Seven, not including you. ‘The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and they were thrown to Earth’.” He hoists Spencer’s chair upright, standing before him. “Tell me who you serve.”

“I serve you.”

“Then choose one to die.”

Spencer blanches, looking up at him. “What?”

“Your team members. Choose one to die.”

He doesn’t need to think when he responds, “kill me.”

Tobias jeers. “You said you weren’t one of them.”

“I lied.”

“Your team has seven other members. Tell me who dies.”

Spencer breathes in as if it were his last. “No.”

Tobias pulls out a revolver from his jacket pocket, spinning the cylinder before aiming it for Spencer’s head. “Choose, and prove you’ll do God’s will.”

“No.”

Tobias clicks the trigger and nothing happens so he repeats, “choose.”

“I won’t do it.”

The trigger clicks again and nothing happens. “Life is a choice.”

“No.”

Spencer’s mind is racing. His first thought goes to you. He knows you would understand any and all references he throws in your direction, but it makes him sick just thinking about putting your life on the line. He needs something. He needs to think.

“Choose.”

“I choose…” his voice stammers and he can barely see straight. “Aaron Hotchner.”

***

“We got him.”

The words echo in your mind as you pace up and down your hotel room, chewing on your destroyed nailbeds. It’s nearing two in the morning and you can’t sleep. The rest of the team are awake. Why should you be given the privilege of rest when none of them were able to? Why should you be given the privilege of rest when Spencer is out there fighting for his life? It’s not fair. Life isn’t fair.

When you hear the sirens outside you run out the door. Blood is pulsing in your ears and you’re still wearing the thin hotel slippers but it doesn’t matter. How could anything else matter? The car door clicks open and Emily helps Spencer out of the car. She whispers something to him and he looks in your direction. Those big hazel eyes stare at you with so much hurt and you can’t contain it anymore.

“Spencer.”

His arms wrap around your waist, his nose pressing against your neck as he holds you, breathing in the smell of your vanilla perfume. He almost doesn’t believe you’re real. He pulls you impossibly closer, sniffling, and he can feel your fingers run through his hair.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, trying to be reassuring, but he can hear the way your voice cracks. “You’re okay.”

“I should have listened to you,” He whimpers, feeling the cold wet rain soak through his shirt. “I should have– I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be, Walter.”

The moment he hears that name spill from your lips he begins to cry. He’s okay. He’s with you now. You’re right here.

“I thought–”

You shush him for the first and last time, squeezing his arms. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”

He wonders how a person could be so warm. Even in the cold Atlanta weather you’re still so warm.

“Hotch wouldn’t let me work the case from the house,” you tell him quietly as you sit beside him on the bed. “Understandable. I screamed at him.”

He chuckles a little, flinching when you gently pull the bandage off the side of his face. He feels a lot better now that he’s clean, the shower more than necessary and he savours the feeling of warm water on his skin. The gash on his head is oozing sticky blood and you dispose of it accordingly, reaching into the first aid kit.

“It’s gonna sting a little,” you tell him, pressing a damp cloth to the wound.

He hisses at the contact, gripping your arm and he tries to change the subject. “Why did you scream at Hotch?”

You hum, continuing to clean the blood off his head. “I was mad at him.”

“It wasn’t his fault.”

“I know.”

You smile at him, applying a new bandage to his head. “It’s okay. I was able to help the case from here, anyway.”

“Stay with me,” he whispers, squeezing your hand. “Please?”

Your gaze softens. “Of course, Walter.”

He curls into your side, an arm wrapped around your middle and he breathes in the scent of your strawberry and honey shampoo. Your fingers curl in his hair, untangling the knots when your eyes flicker to your desk, the letter of resignation tucked inside your bag. He doesn’t need to know that. At least, not yet.

***

You knock at the door of Hotch’s office, chewing on your bottom lip. You remember being in this office for the first time four years ago when you were an intern; the way you shook with nerves and anticipation as you handed in your résumé for the honours program and then again when you were hoping to take the job full time. It’s ironic that you’re back at his office again, but for a very different reason.

“Come in.”

The breath that leaves your lips is shaky and you take a seat in front of his desk. “Hotch.”

“(Y/N).”

You place the pristine white envelope onto the desk,watching the way his face shifts from stoic to surprised.

“You don’t have to do this,” He says, not touching the envelope. “The situation at hand was stressful. No one blames you for reacting the way you did.”

“It’s not just because of that,” you say slowly. “You were right. I was too involved.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” you say quickly, a humourless laugh slipping at your words. “I would have killed him.”

Hotch looks at you, his eyes meeting yours. “You wouldn’t have.”

“I would have,” you say surely. “After what he did to Spencer, if I had found him I would have killed him. And I would have– I would have slept well. I love this team, Hotch, but I can’t separate those feelings when I’m on the field no matter how hard I try.”

He’s quiet for a moment before nodding, rising from his seat. “I’m assuming it’s a two-week’s notice?”

You nod, also getting up from your chair. “Yeah. I– I don’t want to just leave, you know?”

“We’re going to miss you,” he says, walking with you to the door, “but this will be good for you.”

“I know.” You can feel the stares of the rest of the team through the glass and you can’t help but smile. “They’re horrible at being nonchalant.”

“They’re profilers,” Aaron chuckles. “Can you blame them?”

“I guess not,” you muse, pulling the door open. “Thank you, Aaron.”

“You always have a place here, (Y/N),” he says gently as you walk back down to the bullpen.

It doesn’t take long before the overflowing dam of questions burst and in moments Emily is crossing the room and sitting next to you.

“You’re leaving the BAU?”

You look at her with wide eyes before laughing a little. “You… are very good at your job, huh?”

“Oh…” Penelope tackles you in a hug, her arms tight around your frame. “We’re going to miss you.”

JJ sniffles a little, joining the hug. “Don’t forget us.”

“As if I ever could.” A bittersweet smile rests on your lips.

Derek hugs you as well, his chin on the top of your head. “Look after yourself, kid. We’ll make these last two weeks the best you’ve ever had.”

“If you ever need anything…” Emily begins slowly, squeezing your hands. “I’m here, okay?”

Gideon pats your shoulder lightly, a sad smile on his face. “You’re a good person. Never forget that.”

You nod, trying to blink away the tears that fill your eyes. “I know. Thanks, you guys.”

The opening and shutting of the BAU doors brings you out of your thoughts and the familiar head of brown hair stalking away makes your face fall. Gideon meets your gaze, gesturing towards the door. That’s all you need to run out of the bullpen.

“Spencer– Spencer, wait, please.” You tug on his arm desperately. “Please–”

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” He asks, his voice cracking. It has only been a few days since the incident and he looks a little better. The scratches on his face are still visible, but they’re fading slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I–” you falter, flinching at the pain and hostility in his voice. “It was never a good time.”

He scoffs quietly, rubbing at his arm. “You should have told me.”

“I couldn’t just randomly tell you,” you say, frowning. “How would that be fair?”

Spencer rubs his eyes, the dark bags beneath them even more prominent. “Why are you leaving?”

“I have to,” you say gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I love this job but I can’t do it anymore–”

“Why not?!”

“Because–!” You exhale, trying to calm yourself down. “Because I swore an oath when I took this job that I will put this country above myself. And I can do that. I would die for this country to protect the people in it, I will hunt down the people who make this country so unsafe and I will sacrifice myself willingly, but you? I can’t– I can’t lose you. If I had to choose between catching the UnSub and saving you, I would save you in a heartbeat. Even if that meant letting a bad guy go. Even if that meant more people would get hurt I would still choose you and I can’t let that happen.”

Your words deem him speechless and he shifts his weight on his feet. For a moment, all he can do is stare at you as your reasoning sinks in. It makes sense. He hates that it makes sense.

“So that’s it?” He asks quietly, finally looking you in the eye. “You’re actually leaving?”

“Not for another two weeks,” you tell him truthfully. “Besides, you can still text me. And call me. You know where I live so you can always visit.”

He bites the inside of his cheek anxiously, teetering on his feet before hugging you tightly, burying his nose into your hair. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’m going to miss you too.”

His grip is tight around you and if you paid attention you could feel him tremble. “I can’t do this job without you.”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You can, Walter. You’re stronger than you think you are.”

There are so many things he wishes he could tell you. You’re right here. He doesn’t have to yearn for your touch anymore because you’re right here in his arms. He wants to tell you so many things. Like how he adores the colour of your eyes, or the way you smile, or the way your hair falls. He wants to tell you how much he likes spending time with you and how he feels so good with you but he can’t. The words are at the tip of his tongue so how can he not say anything?

“I–” love you– “I’m really going to miss you.”

“Me too,” you whisper. “Me too.”

← previous part || next part →

full work

reblogs are always appreciated!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x reader angst #criminal minds x reader fluff #criminal minds series #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you

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minsh0e · 5 months

Text

mini astrology observations 2/?

hi hi ! i am back with another mini astrology observations. I want to thank you all for such an amazing reaction to my “work”, and for all your positive/negative comments that you left for me. these opinions make me realize a lot and will definitely make me grow further in the future… before you move on to the reading, i want to say, that I am not a professional, so take everything lightly. as always, have fun reading <3

p.s. - photos are mine :)

...

☆ people with empty 1st house may lack life guidance or be less aggressive while voicing their opinions. on the contrary though, they might judge people based on their personality and manners, not appearance or first impressions.

☆ libra risings literally don’t have to wear makeup as they look/feel better without it

☆ in my first/last observations, i talked about the mars and/trine venus synastry and how it can be the first thing that pulls you in. in this case, mars represents the man and venus represents the woman. last time, i talked about how i got attracted to the men, who have mars in the same element as my venus but i haven´t mentioned, that all of them had virgo mars...

i have a theory of mine (that i observed on me and others) in which venus mostly gets attracted to the mars sign of same element that is positioned clockwise (e.g. scorpio -> cancer) and mars mostly gets attracted to the venus that is positioned anti-clockwise (cancer -> scorpio)…i have, however, observed this on people who are attracted to the opposite gender not the same gender, therefore, i can’t really tell you nothing about how this works for homosexuals.

-> please let me know what you think about this/what are your experiences if you have time :)

☆ this is a very random observation that you can skip if you want to…our dog it considered to be beautiful by most of the people we met/meet. he has shiny, colorful fur, symmetrical face and body color placements. i decided to check out his natal chart for fun and found out, that he has libra venus in 5th house…interpret this as you want, but i guess, that you can really apply astrology to anything :)

☆ people with sagittarius mars are the ones, who love the sports/movement the most. they are amazing at doing anything physical, so you can literally see them being great at any sport…even if they do it for the first time. they may be interested in a lot different kinds too.

☆ those with lilith in 8th house get sexualized/objectified a lot. if you have lilith (or any other lilith) in this house, you were most likely introduced to the “sexual” more early in your life and matured more faster then your other peers. also, you might be randomly called/shouted at by other disrespectful people on the streets…i was really surprised to find out, that this is not really talked about that much, so here i am…

☆ another observation i talked about in past were pisces/12th house placements. i talked about how sleepy and tired they can get without any specific reason but let me tell you…all the water signs/house placements get like this and it's mostly because of said no reason or when they get tired just by thinking about working on something/having to describe something to the other person. they treasure their energy and how they spend it.

☆ degrees are a very important part of reading an astrology…if you have time, please learn/read about them

…

the end.

these observations were slightly shorter, so i am sorry about that :(

again, feel free to leave your feedback :)

#zodiac #astrology #astrology observations #astro observations #astrology notes #astro notes #natal chart #natal chart observations #synastry chart #synastry chart observations #astrology community #synastry #synastry observations

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blazinghotfoggynights · 6 months

Text

Can Team Tuck and Team Buddie please agree that both can exist and serve as positive spaces for queer male representation?

I've been thinking. Let me run something by you.

Oliver says he has always felt Buck was a bi-coded character? Right?

Does that mean when TK thought Buck was hitting on him, he was?

If Buck was always bi, but just didn't know it, are we supposed to believe he never flirted with Eddie just because his first kiss was with Tommy?

Was Tommy his bi awakening or was Tommy the embodiment of the attractive traits he has seen in a man he's been falling for over five seasons?

You can like or even love multiple people. Even at the same time! 😮

Believing that Buddie is or should be the endgame does not negate or disrespect Buck's arc with Tommy in any way. I question if Tommy was just a convenient character. He's a safe guy to explore Buck's evolution with. He has a history with members of the 118, but he is not integral to the cast. If it doesn't work out, he is easily explained away. Remember Natalia?

I think it is possible to have a Buck and Tommy centered arc, focused on Buck becoming comfortable with his sexuality and exploring it in a healthy, positive way and still have Buck and Eddie eventually realize they have been each other's person for years. Having both doesn't make the other any less important. How many people have dated others when their eventual life partner was right there? They had no idea they saw that person in that way.

Now that we know Buck is bi, it could lead to different interpretations of scenes:

Buck is looking at Eddie. Tommy is not there and we don't know for sure who Eddie was speaking to.

2. Look at that smile and his eyes at the end. Buck positively beams and bats his eyes when he realizes Eddie is going to look at him. That's how platonic friends look at each other?

3. But we can take it all the way back if we have to. Look at Buck when Eddie compliments him.

3b. Do you know what that reminds me of?

4. If Buck has subconciously been into guys for a long time, then this scene takes on a whole new context.

Moving closer to the other man? Check.

Eye contact? Check?

Smile and shy head duck? Check.

*I'd like to state that I have no doubt Edmundo Diaz knew Buck was into him. Look at the reaction.

5. When I'm into someone, you know what I don't talk about? Someone else.

6. Wow. Look at how Buck looks at Tommy.

6b. We have never seen that before have we?

Buck x Tommy and Buck x Eddie can coexist in harmony. Life stories are long and have jumpscares, plot twists, plot holes, etc.

Buck being genuinely attracted to Tommy doesn't mean that all the scenes from the past five seasons that made us all side-eye Evan Buckley didn't happen.

If we never get Buddie, let's just take the win. ABC said, "There are queer men in the world who are masculine, hot, and relatively stable. Let's show that."

Do we really need to talk about how the LGBTQ community was represented on their former network? I could stand on that soapbox and go off for days. Let's just say I know others who also felt some way about it, whether they were straight, queer, or allies.

I am just going to enjoy what is shaping up to be an amazing season. Moving to ABC breathed new life into 911 and I am excited. (Season six? Can we just not talk about it?)

#911 abc #9 1 1 buddie #911 on abc #buck x eddie #buddie 911 #buddie #eddie x buck #eddie diaz x evan buckley #evan buckley x eddie diaz #eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #buck x tommy #tuck #oliver stark #ryan guzman #Lou Eng's metas

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mysunshinetemptress · 3 months

Text

In The Moonlight

Leah Williamson x singer!reader warnings: None except shitty writing, fluff

A grin stretched across your face, wide enough to rival the jet lag currently waging war in your head. Two world tours back to back had been a whirlwind, exhilarating and exhausting in equal measure, Social media detox was the doctor's orders, a chance to reconnect with the real world however it was about to get a small pause with the absurdity of the TikTok trend.

Here you were, the hottest pop star on the planet, about to participate in a goofy social media challenge inspired by a goofy song from a sitcom.

You had stumbled upon a hilarious trend, people were reenacting the iconic scene from Modern Family where Dylan serenades Haley with his...interestingly phrased song, "In the Moonlight (Do Me)," and passing it off as their own in front of their family and friends. Laughter bubbled up in your chest as you watched one particularly enthusiastic boy singing the suggestive lyrics much to his parent's disgust and surprise.

"Right," you declared, voice thick with amusement, as you spoke into the phone"I'm breaking my social media blackout for this because I can't help but take part in this trend."

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you grabbed your phone heading to the living room where Leah and a few of your family and friends have gathered for the barbecue. "hey guys can I have your attention for a quick second, please..I know I'm supposed to be on a break but, I can't get this new song out of my head and I need your opinion on it, I actually think it might work for a single."

A collective groan went up from the assembled group. They knew your "work" mode well, and it usually involved long nights in the studio, not impromptu living room performances. But Leah, ever the supportive girlfriend, flashed a smile.

"Alright, Elvis," she said, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Hit us with this 'new song.'"

Taking a dramatic breath, you check the tuning of your guitar, "It's eh, well you all know who it's about, the same person as all my other songs..it's called In the Moonlight"

The first strum of your guitar sent a hush over the room. They expected the usual pop magic, the infectious energy that had propelled you to superstardom. Instead, your voice crooned out the opening lines of Dylan's "song" with a hilariously exaggerated earnestness.

"The stars are falling from the sky, and you're the reason why. The moon is shining on your face, and I think it's found its place."

Laughter erupted as you finished the first verse, shattering the stunned silence. Your face turned crimson, but you held your pose, trying to maintain a serious expression as you began the chorus.

"Cause maybe, baby, I just want to do you, do you, do you want to do me, do me, underneath the moonlight, moonlight."

Your friends began to laugh silently as Leah's parents and your parents looked on horrified.

"And now we're hiding in my car, I let you see my scars, escape the dark for just one night, your heart makes me explode with light."

Leah snorted, trying to stifle a laugh. Your family exchanged bewildered glances.

"Baby, maybe, Maybe I will steal you, steal you just so I can feel you, feel you, maybe that will heal you, heal you on the inside."

The last note of your "song" died down, replaced by the deafening sound of crickets...or at least, it felt that way. Your family and friends stared at you, mouths agape, the only sound a choked cough from Leah's dad.

The tension broke as Leah doubled over, tears streaming down her face. "Oh my god," she gasped between laughs, "that was amazing! You had them fooled for a good minute there!"

Slowly, the rest of the room caught on. Laughter erupted, first in hesitant chuckles, then in full-blown roars. Even Leah's parents faces still flushed with surprise, couldn't help but crack a smile.

Your parents, still trying to process the experience, shot you a look that mingled amusement with a hint of disapproval. "Honey," your mom began cautiously, "that wasn't exactly...subtle, was it?"

You grinned sheepishly. "Maybe not," you admitted. "But you gotta admit, the reactions were priceless!"

Leah walked over, shaking her head and trying to hide a smile. "You're a menace," she said, giving you a playful shove.

You posted the video a short while later breaking the internet once again. The next morning, your phone was buzzing with notifications. Fans everywhere were recreating your video. You were trending again only this time not because of your tour.

Leah smiled hugging you from behind the next morning "You know I love you and all the wonderful songs you write about me, us, our relationship, but please promise me you will never write anything like that."

Leah smiled hugging you from behind the next morning "You know I love you and all the wonderful songs you write about me, us, and our relationship, but please promise me you will never write anything like that." You laughed turning in her arms "I love you too much to write a song just about your body and my wants for it, no I'll write about you, your soul and sometimes when I feel extra fruity then I'll write about your body and my wants for it no my needs for it."

Leah pulled you in closer kissing you softly "And I'll be your number one listener."

#woso #awfc #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x y/n #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x you #woso soccer #woso couples #woso community #woso x reader #arsenal women #modern family

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lunavrse · 7 months

Text

DREAM GIRL

CHARLES LECLERC

summary ★ : charles decides to take a page out of justin bieber's book. let's see how that works out for him.

category ★ : smau.

notes ★ : disregard all times and dates, they don't matter. all spelling mistakes are intentional. everything is fake and unrealistic but thank you delusion. terrible flirting and the usual type of jokes/language you see on the internet.

me basically:

tagged: yourbestfriend

Liked by yourbestfriend, yourfriend, user61 and 147 272 others

youruser so proud of ﹫yourbestfriend, she absolutely killed it and even took some cool pictures of me💚🥂 new video coming 🔜

View all 534 comments

yourbestfriend thank you for coming my love💚

youruser always😘

yourbestfriend it's not hard when you have such a gorgeous subject

youruser thank yewww

user6 stunning 😍

user12 you look amazing and ﹫yourbestfriend did fantastic!

user89 THE DRESS🤩

youruser i knowww, it's from meshki

user3 you're a beauty

user62 i need to know where the dress is from 🙏

youruser it's from meshki !

user56 can't wait to stare at the screen for the next few hours

user47 isn't her videos usually like 20~45 minutes?

user56 i know what i said

user1 oh !

user9 she did her big one😌

user11 pretty!

yourfriend serving face and body

youruser 🤍🤍🤍

user24 face card is lethal

user61 ﹫charles_leclerc

user60 ❤️🔥

user77 can we get a little commotion for the dress🗣️🗣️

Liked by pierregasly, user61, landonorris and 516 382 others

charles_leclerc who is she? if anyone knows, please tag her.

View all 3 272 comments

user4 nah, this guy

user26 this is crazy.

user92 WHAT IS GOING ON ?!!?!!

user5 is this real? like am i actually seeing this?

user15 he's got to have been hacked

user25 ain't no way

user13 actively going insane thanks to this actually.

user8 giving me flashbacks to december 8th, 2015

user14 i've got ptsd 😭

user10 from what? the war?

user49 bros acting like they were in a war💀

user8 it was a tough time to be a jb fan 😭

user3 IM CRYING

maxverstappen1 is this who we are, is this what we represent??

user3 max is done💀💀

charles_leclerc i said i had a plan, not that it was a good one mate

user1 wish it was me he's looking for

user45 that's me!

user86 in your dreams maybe

user58 get over yourself<3

user20 ﹫youruser

user67 She's so pretty, I want to cry

user76 she's so pretty, i want her

user48 ^^two types of people

user93 my brother in christ, stand up!!!

user50 BRO FORGOT HE'S FAMOUS😭🔥🗣️

user07 he's just like me fr

user84 mans is moving mad📢

user100 this is embarrassing

user34 think im gonna be sick

user30 don't be so dramatic

user51 i don't blame her

user70 she's obviously the prettiest girl ever🙄

user68 ﹫youruser !

user97 that's me !

user59 I'm gonna go cry myself to sleep now

user31 side eye

user29 who is she? she's stunning

user40 why is my fav youtuber in this picture

user46 iconic actually

user17 I know we can't see her face clearly, but she's serving

user21 i know her!

user37 what's her ﹫

user21 it's ﹫youruser, i follow her

user101 i want harry styles to do this but with me

user88 me too lol

user65 this is down bad behaviour

user201 thanks for ruining my day 👍

user248 it's giving wattpad vibes

user119 charles, look at me, this isn't you, think about the kids

user996 i was genuinely scared this was a hard launch

user123 alexa play that should be me

user8 how ironic

user147 ﹫youruser

user313 that's my girlfriend ﹫youruser

user05 praying for this girl cause the toxic charles fans, yikes😬

user000 gonna be delusional and pretend it's me 😁

user128 see i was so excited when i saw the notif and now i'm just 😐

user01 i cried when i saw this post btw

user306 imagine he posted a pic of asking who u are ﹫user43

user43 pls i would cry

user61 ﹫youruser

user007 idk and idc

user400 this is me if you even care

Liked by yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc, user4 and 253 953 others

youruser hello new people, where'd y'all come from?

View all 1 753 comments

yourbestfriend do you not check your notifications or...

youruser you know i don't

user245 girl...

user4 im in love with you lol

user500 just came from ur yt video, i'm so glad you had fun at the event!

user16 so this is the girl my husband is leaving me for🥲

user04 charles leclerc in her likes😭😭😭 ooh i'm sick

user287 then you're not gonna like this... he's flirting w her

user04 just fell to my knees in despair

user61 so real for that last slide

user56 pretty😍

youruser tysm pretty girl🤎

user791 charles mfing leclerc posted you!?!!!

user792 charles mfing leclerc liked!!

user793 charles mfing leclerc commented!!!

friend3 let's kiss 💋

youruser 👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏾

user005 i too wish to kiss all the pretty girls

user800 idk what's going on rn but i loved your latest video, you and yourbestfriend were so cute and seeing you guys backstage together was sooo wholesome

user494 the part where they saw each other and started hyping each other up was my favourite

use712 her looking up a makeup tutorial 2 hours before she had to leave was so me

user55 he's in her likes y'all!

user942 thanks bud, i would never had noticed without u

user039 oh so she's dumb and ugly 😒

user44 and you're bitter and jealous...

user91 CHARLES LECLERC KNOWS YOU EXIST

use222 I wanna kiss you too 😞

user777 personally, i came from yt

user420 hi *louder than everybody else*

user311 what lip liner are you wearing babes?

youruser ﹫makeupbymario brown lip liner : )

user42 need a makeup tutorial!!!

charles_lerclerc my fault 🧍‍♂️

youruser i'll let it slide cause you're cute

charles_leclerc you think i'm cute? giggling, kicking my feet

youruser and blushing?

charles_leclerc mhmm, yeah

user0 THEY'RE FLIRTING!!!!

user456 deffo flerting

user942 YEAH?!???!!!!

user011 you guys know dms exist right???

user0 damn, i wanted to see this play out more 😭

user811 chill, my man is on this app

user35 she a baddie she know she a ten

user555 face card is never declining 😍

user411 do i want to date you or be you?

user87 so real!

user05 so we all saw them flirt right?

user942 yes😭

user28 STAY AWAY FROM HIM

user69 GET A JOB (directed to you user28)

Liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, user12 and 443 854 others

youruser day(s) n night(s)

View all 2 748 comments

user103 nottt her trying to be sneaky👀

yourbestfriend am i seriously losing you to a MAN???

youruser 'm always urs pooks💚

yourbestfriend tell loverboy that

user656 charles' new nickname is 🔥

user48 the way charles was here in the first few minutes of her posting💀

charles_leclerc et le prix de la plus belle fille te revient [and the award for the most beautiful girl goes to you]

youruser merci beau garçon

user12 Them speaking French to each other is all that I'm thinking about rn.

user707 A YT MAN?!?!?! IT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME!!!

user349 wish she was calling me a beautiful boy 😭

use117 i see you 4th slide, studious queen🤧

user824 charles try not to be a simp challenge

user107 level : IMPOSSIBLE

user41 ﹫user23 50 quid that's charles

user23 do you think i'm stupid?

user41 do you want an honest answer or?

user23 do you want to tell me your lastest test score or?

user41 ...

user23 yeah that's what i thought

user662 noooo pls don't be who i think it is

user35 she a baddie with her baddie friend(s)

user723 okay but the lashes ate💅🏾

user991 this is so weird, why are you posting him?

user75 you don't even know if that's him and you're already being defensive over a man who don't want you or even know you exist? don't pmo. get off her page!!!

user940 me when😔

user129 what about us?

user130 what about everything we've been through

user329 who is that man girl

user477 so are we just gonna ignore charles' comment or...

user452 just made me even more sure that it's him

user02 pretty girl<3

user170 if my future boyfriend don't bring me flowers on the first date, i don't want him🙅🏽‍♀️

user244 we get it, for some reason charles leclerc wants you😒

user311 ugh,,, the lip look always eats

user710 real, I'm obsessed

user536 is that charles?

user537 be serious, that is not happening

user539 ok 😐👍

user536 i actually can't be sirius, he's dead. hope this helps👍

user863 imagine that's not him and we're all just being crazy

user37 if that's not him, he's probably crying

user11 shittt, I would too, look at her

user29 he's probably the guy in the photos

user163 we all saw that interview right? it's definitely him

user288 yass, he looked so cute

user565 enough about charles, can we focus on how pretty she and her friends are??

user479 10s across the board fr

user504 I thought you were for the girls 😭

user716 i'm calling it now, that's a date w leclerc

user231 you look stunning 😍

user406 anyone noticed how he liked? he wouldn't do that if she went out on a date with someone else right?

user410 only everybody with eyes?

alex_albon yeah, no, he would be sobbing in a corner if that wasn't him

user410 ARIANA (Alex) WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

use535 so he couldn't have fumbled, right....

user534 well...

user210 alex is just here to create chaos and honestly, i respect that

user73 please don't post your man again😒

user66 real!!! i come here to see you not him🥲

user711 love to see women getting treated right 😌

user385 slide 6 made me sick to my stomach

user858 he brought her flowers😫

user132 PLEASE DON'T BE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE

user705 that HAS to be him

user701 you never know, sometimes he is his own worst enemy

user898 did NOT 🚫❌ like this

user999 what if this was my last straw

tagged: charles_leclerc, youruser

Liked by user, pierregasly, user0 and others

allthingsleclerc local (monégasque) man seen out with mystery woman who sources claim is yn

View all 843 comments

user624 why is she still serving while blurred

user210 liked by pierregasly 🫣

user833 charles' friends are exposing him 💀

user0 that's definitely ﹫youruser

user04 serving cunt and he's there ig

user547 just becoz it's blurred doesn't mean you can't tell that it's her

user622 he looks miserable, he doesn't like her😭

user595 what? are you of sound mind?

lunavrse pls don't look too closely at the picture 😴

user923 What's the square root of 64?💅🏾

user700 they're just minding their business, why can't y'all do the same?

user674 it's a public place

user700 ☝️🤓 it's a pUbLIc PLaCe

user103 no bc they're lowk matching 😭

user933 it's so over😭😭

user72 that's so cute🥰 who wants to have a sleepover on the highway with me?

user33 that could just be a coincidence?

user172 i actually don't care but THAT DRESS, i need to know where she got it from

user32 oh ! i didn't realise that she was actually his type

user79 ... i wish there was a side eye emoji

user18 oh that's not-

user32 nonono in a sense that he usually dates like brunettes

use499 wdym, 'm pretty sure she is brunette?

user03 we know what you meant lol

user270 wish i could live in delusion

user320 he's probably paying for everything 🙄

user419 and? he's literally a millionaire, if he wants to spend his money on his (alleged) girlfriend let him. it's not your money

user232 girl, pipe down

user890 I don't see the problem?

user52 why do you assume that? do you know her financial situation? or you a close friend of either of theirs who knows what's going on? if the answer to these questions are no, shut the fuck up, thanks<3 peace and light to you.

user562 try not to say mother

user587 [failed]

user612 Why can't she stay away from him?

user258 why can't you mind yr business?

user718 first picture of them out together and they look great

user106 her rn: damn i'm the only bitch serving cunt here😭😭 omg😭 i'm so embarrassedd😭😭😭

user211 she should be at the club, not on gossip pages😭

user261 fuck she looks too good, i wanna kms

user211 real

user586 took a social media break and came back to this😃 great !

user404 i wanna say parents🤭

user648 this actually made my day

user446 Gonna sleep on the tracks tonight🥰

youruser and you're kenough for me❤️

charles_leclerc thank you barbie !

most beautiful barbie ever❤️

landonorris this ken's job is simp

charles_leclerc you'd be a simp too if you could actually date such a stunning woman but you can't 🫶

landonorris you're a cruel, cruel man

Liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, lilymhe and 749 365 others

youruser me gusta la mar🏖️

View all 2 836 comments

yourbestfriend wish i was on a boat right now😔

youruser i literally invited you and you said no?

yourbestfriend i have to face unimaginable horror (work)

user12 that boat looks familiar

yourbestfriend you look stunning babes💚

youruser tysm, means the most coming from uuu pookie 💚

use501 forget about charles and give me one(1) chance pls

charles_leclerc me gustas tú

user779 SCREAMING

user784 chill, it's a song lyric

user779 yeah but have you heard the song???

charles_leclerc gorgeous view, and the sea looks good too i suppose

youruser my view was much better but thank you<3

charles_leclerc i doubt that. je pourrais te regarder pendant des heures sans jamais me lasser. [i could look at you for hours and never get bored]

user055 someone is coming for your smooth operator title ﹫carlossainz55

user964 Charles Rizzclerc???

yourbestfriend she's screaming btw

youruser no i'm not

yourbestfriend then why do i have a vn of you screaming?

charles_leclerc 😊

user96 it's quiet🤐... no back talk

user71 stay focused my brothers, we must stay focused

user53 i am looking respectfully, i promise

user131 when will someone tell me the things he says to her🙃

user677 everytime you post a picture my jaw drops

yourfriend oh my gorgeous coco butter melanated caramel skinned goddess, please notice me🙏🏾

youruser oh you've got jokes🤨

yourbestfriend GOODBYE😭 im showing this to ur man

yourfriend you really thought you did suttin🤣 he knows who he's dating😋

user22 I would sacrifice my favourite duck plushie for just one chance to be in your presence 🙇‍♀️

youruser that's so sweet yet so disturbing pls keep your plush safe

user22 Yes queen, whatever you say 🫡

user803 if you look close enough, you can see me drowning myself in the ocean 🤗

user70 forget vroom vroom boy n give a g(ay)irl a chance😫

user312 charles in his simp era

use314 love to sea it

user312 that's a terrible pun and i hate that i laughed

user2 you know who has a boat??? charles

user057 the way that you're actually glowing in these🫠

user717 i love the hat, it just kinda brings the whole thing together

lilymhe you look amazing! and i love the bikini!

youruser tysm🫶🏾 i love u!!!

user742 a friendship i never knew i needed

user335 Since when did Lily and Yn know each other??

user386 since they're both wags, it only makes sense

user360 but yn's not a wag

user386 yet

user109 hi lol

user634 her body is teaaa

user7 did someone say body-ody-ody-ody

user19 he can do so much better than you

user482 I know you want him but I can be so much better than him in so many ways, I swear, please please please please *begs excessively*

user888 Does Charles have her post notifications on or what?

user938 i'd say yes cause how else would he like her posts so fast

user064 the swimsuit is everythinggg

user229 it's giving hot girl summer ⛱️

user177 i could start a whole new ocean with the amount of tears i've cried

Liked by user621, youruser, pierregasly and 927 375 others

charles_leclerc me gusta el viento

View all 3 276 comments

user905 he knows exactly what he's doing

user200 Not him having the exact same meal picture as her

user080 let's talk about the matching captions

user621 most beautiful man I've ever seen

youruser me gustas tú

user331 Y'ALL ARE NOT SLICK

user331 in fact, you're both so sick for playing with us like this

user774 we know you like the wind, we've seen your hair

user405 jajajaja

user607 okay, you might have nibbled with this a little

user775 jail!!! do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars

user379 what she said wasn't even that bad nor untrue

youruser now THIS is a view. tu as ta place au louvre avec toutes les autres grandes œuvres d'art. (you belong in the louvre with all the other great works of art)

charles_leclerc oh ! thank you, i am so normal about you and this comment

pierregasly great, now he's glitching and going crazy in the group chat again

user2 AGAIN?!?

alex_albon spoiler alert ⚠️ he was not normal about this

user125 who blames him? not me. instead, i am insanely jealous

user457 WHY ARE THEY BOTH BREAKING OUT INSANE LEVELS OF RIZZ?

user508 oh he's so fine🤤

user933 the matching captions and matching replies,,, god I'm NOT your strongest soldier

user36 yesss king, give us beach!!!!

user078 well, boat but yes!!!

user649 he said im speeding up the soft launch

user573 by 0.25x speed

user649 at least it's something?

user378 honestly i will take these crumbs instead of absolutely nothing

user269 i LOVE crumbs 🤤 mmhmm😋

user120 is really considered a soft launch when they make comments like THAT?

user801 someone sedate me, im unwell🤒

user903 he's trying to thirst trap us into ignoring the 4th slide

user754 well it's working😫

user028 charles!!! te amo 😘

user753 gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure like a rat/mouse with a giant block of cheese

user136 One like and I'll drown myself.

user112 why did you like it🤨

user136 Damn Nessa, mind ur business😐, why did YOU🫵🏽 like it?

user388 them posting sea/boat pics on the same day? THEY'RE TOGETHER

user33 hear me out, it could be a coincidence

user388 *shakes you violently* HOW MANY COINCIDENCES DO YOU NEED

user770 i think we're focusing a little too much on the wrong thing here

user911 if i said what i was thinking, i'd be banned from this app.

user762 can't wait to see you at the next race! praying for a podium finish🙏!

user63 Who are you taking pictures of Charles???

user894 Gee that's a tough one/s

user720 he didn't really think we'd ignore the 4th slide

user402 i am here to do some good ole fashion SLUT shaming🗣️📢

user309 Love them trying to out-compliment each other

user61 he has such a gorgeous smile

user7 actual post of you and ﹫youruser when?

user633 nobody wants to see that

use105 speak for yourself

user708 😍😍

user808 i don't know who's luckier, her or him

user809 both, both is good

user007 hope you're having fun destroying my heart😭😭

user169 charles please, please, do you need a dog because i swear i can bark. in fact i am barking and drooling violently rn

user196 you really get me

user45 he's taking pictures of me y'all 🫶🏼

user502 🥵🔥

user19 you can do so much better than her, i promise

user67 i cried a little when i saw your post of her was still up

user64 I feel like a Victorian man™ seeing a woman's ankle for the first time 😵‍💫

user664 feeling like how teachers think boys feel when seeing a girl's shoulders

user325 don't forget to keep applying sunscreen!

user04 he's so pretty, i'm sick to my stomach.

user758 he tryna kill people i swear

user99 honestly, i think he looks so at peace/happy and i'm grateful for that

user74 you're honestly ruining my life by not being mine 😭😭😭

user981 that looks like too much food for 1 person

user523 that's because im with him🤗

user296 screaming, crying, throwing up, banging my head against the wall, wailing like a banshee.

tagged: youruser

Liked by youruser, user291, landonorris and 973 638 others

charles_leclerc play all mine by brent faiyaz

View all 4 726 comments

user39 just fell to my knees in a Walmart

youruser this is not the soft launch we agreed on mon bijou

charles_leclerc just wanted to show you off mon ange

youruser oh !

user505 ALL MINE BY BRENT FAIYAZ!??!! oh it's really over 😭

landonorris can't even get picture creds for the 4th slide

user444 you didn't even get a reply 💀 everybody point 🫵🏼 and laugh

landonorris just looked at your bio and it says ln4, i really is your own fans😞

user528 can't believe she invented green 😮‍💨

user553 them in the photobooth, fuck, is it hot🥵🥵 in here orrr

youruser who is she???

charles_leclerc oh you know, just the love of my life

youruser kicking my feet, smiling SO hard right now. je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime.

charles_leclerc je t'aime encore plus mon ange❤️ (i love you even more my angel)

user378 The launch we've been waiting for

user957 the way they're looking at each other, parting my hair with a knife 🤪

youruser you're obsessed with me

charles_leclerc well, yes! am i not supposed to be??

user39 no shame in admitting it, i respect that🤷🏽‍♂️

user291 serving cunt like she got a master's degree in cuntology from servington universitea

user239 charles, can you fight because i feel like i'm gonna steal your girl

charles_leclerc ... you have five seconds to delete this🙂

user805 If I speak...

user806 charles would probably block you

user575 charlessss i can make you happier, trust me

youruser no, i don't think i will

user575 my bad girl, didn't think you'd see this.

maxverstappen1 you guys are so sickening, please get a room

charles_leclerc who even invited you???

youruser wow max, i thought you liked us

maxverstappen1 YOU DID

maxverstappen1 not enough to watch you both be so touchy sorry

yourbestfriend my stunning girl💚

charles_leclerc i think you mean, MY girl

yourbestfriend i'm not arguing with you, ﹫youruser please come get your man

youruser i think 'm gonna stay out of this...

user332 when will someone post me to my fav brent faiyaz song🫤

user333 manifesting getting posted to stay down 🕯️🙏🏾🕯️🙏🏾🕯️🙏🏾

user334 my wedding song frfr😩

user018 why did daddy's home start playing 🛐

user12 FINALLY

user618 is your girlfriend single?

charles_leclerc read that first part again for me

user466 KHCJTSURS 5HE HARED LAWNCH

user540 not one word spelt correctly, open the schools!!!

user843 who is cutting onions😭😭???

user785 HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY DREAM

charles_leclerc feeling really blessed 🙏🏻

user912 this is so unserious 💀

user440 love love love 😘

user54 love a black woman from infinity to infinity!!!

user113 in the words of dove cameron, i could be a better boyfriend than him. trust🙏🏾

user53 NOOOO YN come back to meeee!!!

charles_leclerc i think she's good here, next to me

user17 can't breathe!!!

user17 hottest gf alive

user17 she looks too good i can't breathe 🫠

user27 showed this to my therapist and she's finally gonna let me kill myself

user065 to be shown off like this,,, i beg

pierregasly the fact that we were together in the last slide...

charles_leclerc but is this a friend group hard launch?

user513 call this hard launch an ugly twink the way it cannot be topped

use488 CALL IT WHAT NOW🎤🎤

user83 the wording is CRAZY

user48 not Charles beefing with everyone in love w his girl💀💀

user259 just bought a whole house with the 1st pic. her face card is insane

user613 kissin the screen😙

charles_leclerc kissing her👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻

youruser ok that's enough

user613 oooohhhh you got scolded 🫵

user6 LETS GO TO PARIS😋

user084 the audacity to use that emoji, ijbol

user40 i hate you

user40 i'm sorry that was jealousy speaking, so happy for you❤️

user069 i - no words

user675 charles, I heard she throws rocks at orphans

charles_leclerc i'm not an orphan but she can hit me😊

arthur_leclerc NO SHAME😭

youruser i do not throw rocks at children, ﹫charles_leclerc hi

user675 yeah, i lied but he's something...

Liked by charles_leclerc, user61, yourbestfriend and 985 732 others

youruser think i like you best when you're just with me and no one else...

View all 4 662 comments

user73 didn't i say don't post your man 🥲

charles_leclerc who is that guy?

youruser he's just this guy i'm hopelessly in love with

charles_leclerc he's very lucky❤️

youruser we both are❤️

user23 we all know who it is girl🤣🤣🤣

charles_leclerc i can't believe you didn't post a single picture of me where my face is visible 😪

youruser i hate you, you know we agreed on the soft launch

charles_leclerc you hate me? so enemies to lovers😏

youruser 🤦🏾‍♀️

user704 she's so mean to him, what does he even see in her

user202 you know there's this thing called banter and he's a grown man who can make his own decisions?

user525 can't wait for the future videos of her at any of the grand prix races

user4 he's got a grip on you in every picture i've seen of y'all together so far, like chill lil bro, she's not gon run away🤣🤣🤣

user206 he's actually just like me bc if she was my girl...

yourbestfriend the best launch because we don't have to see his face

user180 ur so real ily

yourbestfriend jokes, but I'm happy for you both💚

youruser love you💚

user16 i'm so😭 happy😭 for you😭 both😭

user444 lover gyal era!

user407 must be nice to young, sexy and in love

youruser it really is🥰

user350 do y'all need a third, a dog, a maid, or anything really because i can do it all!

user110 shattered.

user12 feeling giddy asf like i'm the one who got posted😵‍💫

user61 you two look great together😊

youruser thank you aoife🤎

user61 you KNOW MY NE?$?$?_? SHE KNOWS MY NAME JEJEJEJ IM SCREAKING

user08 lord, i see what you've done for others 🙏🏼

user940 when will it be me.(with you)

charles_leclerc never, not even in the next thousand lifetimes 🤣

user838 CHARLES???

user839 OHMYDAYS?!?!

user516 the rope in my backyard looks so tempting

user133 I love k. so much

user48 feet? for free? in this economy?

lilymhe leave him for me, let's run away together💒

youruser packing my bags 🛍️

charles_leclerc ﹫alex_albon please come get your girlfriend

alex_albon lily... what is this

lilymhe as the saying goes, never let your boyfriend stop you from finding your wife

charles_leclerc NOT MY GIRLFRIEND THO

youruser boooo tomato tomato tomato i'm throwing tomatoes🍅🍅🍅

charles_leclerc mon ange???

user909 lily was cooking ♨️🍳

user102 remember everyone, he is NOT a mountain, he CAN be moved!

user00 Donatella VERSACE💜

user6 i love the eiffel tower

user315 because you're parisian, right????

user57 i don't think that's the reason💀💀

user510 do you want another boyfriend?

user204 i just think it really weird that you're not posting his face when he literally posted multiple pictures of you on his account, like what are you hiding?

user832 i think it's weird that you don't know how to mind your own business? like it's crazy that you think you're entitled to a reason. this is her account to do what she wants with it, even if she posted him, you'd complain. so please, just shut up.

user278 not my boyfriend having the audacity to steal my girlfriend from me🫤

user98 honestly if I looked like her, i would not know how to act

user122 facts

landonorris what is with you and your boyfriend not giving credit for pictures i take???

youruser this isn't about you right now🫶🏾

user444 at least you got a response this time

landonorris again, for someone who has ln4 in their bio, you sure like to bully me

user444 you think this is bullying? i can actually bully you if you want

landonorris no, i'm good👋🏻

user303 that one girl was right about you liking the wind a lil too much

user926 yeah this is cute and all but can i land this backflip off a cliff?

user376 those flowers are so pretty 🤍🎀

user401 driving home in the wrong lane tonight🤣

user527 the way i was right the whole time and now my friend owes me money 🥰

user830 you guys are such a cute couple

user010 this would have been such a good soft launch dump of we didn't see his hard launch 😅

youruser added to their story.

user09 posting a man to MITSKI?! oh it's serious, ur actually down horrendous

yourbestfriend hard launching on ur story when you soft launched in a post is crazyyyy🤣🤣

youruser hard launching when i see a ring 🤗

nah, im kidding but if they want to see him, go to his profile🤷🏾‍♀️

yourbestfriend IKTR 💅🏾

user215 now my man's gonna expect me to post him on my story like this😑 but i forgive you queen 🙄

landonorris finally made it in a post!

youruser finally you can stop complaining 🫶🏾

landonorris why are you and charles so mean to me

youruser because you deserve it, hope this helps🙌🏾

francisca.cgomez double dating with you was so fun! can't wait to do it again 💞

youruser yes! gonna go bother charles to make plans for another one soon 😁

user121 the sun drawing around ur eyes🥲 crying, that's so effin cute

yourfriend not you being all sentimental with the daniel caesar song AND the puzzle pieces

youruser damn, can't even do something nice🧍🏾‍♀️ see if i post you again

yourfriend you're so dramatic pookie

user531 the bear and the flowerss, please where can i get man like that😖

user479 so many gorgeous girls🥰

user06 glad you're surrounding yourself with people who make you happy and bring out this lovely light 🤎

yourfriend2 when the plans finally make it out the group chat🙌🏾🎉

youruser love that for us🤧 but i swear getting stuck in that elevator made me reconsider all my decisions leading up to that moment

yourfriend2 the 1st hour wasn't that bad tho

yourfriend3 we will never be free🙁

youruser please shut up😭😭

yourfriend3 no bc you didn't listen when dr umar said "SNOW BUNNIES NEVA🙅🏾‍♀️❌"

youruser i do not see it🧘🏾‍♀️

𖦹 𓂃 ᶻ 𝗓 ��⠀⠀𓂃 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁⠀⠀𓂃 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁⠀⠀𓂃 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𓂃 𖦹

⤷ end note ‧ ★ : halfway through making this i went "hmm, this should be a lando smau" but then i continued doing this. it posted like 5 times which freaked me out and was supposed to be done ages ago but yeah. also french is from deepl. enjoy.

#lunavrse writes(?)⋆#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc social media au #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 social media au #instagram au #smau #social media au

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