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sinfulspencer · 4 years

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Soft breath.

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Prompt: Spencer Reid teaches a seminar in New York. Y/N is one of the attendees, interested both in the topic and the teacher. What happens if they meet in a bar?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Italian!Reader Warnings: mention of rape, murder, blood, violence and torture (all related to a case, not the characters), rough sex, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, blowjob, deep throat, felching, hair pulling, light degradation (I think?), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)

But their lips met, and reservations started to pass Whether this was just an evening or a thing that would last Either way he wanted her and this was bad Now a little crush turned into a like And now he wants to grab her by the hair and tell her...

I want to hold you close, skin pressed against me tight Lie still, close your eyes, girl, so lovely, it feels so right I want to hold you close, soft breath, beating heart As I whisper in your ear, I wanna fucking tear you apart

“Psychopath and sociopath are popular psychology terms to describe violent monsters born of our worst nightmares. Think about characters like Hannibal Lecter in Silence of the Lambs or Norman Bates in Psycho, they are the most famous individuals when it comes to these terms. - says the 38 years old professor, pacing on the little stage next to the blackboards – Unfortunately, popular culture has also burned the words used to describe them into our collective consciousness.”

Y/N tilts her head, leaning her back against the plastic chair in the front row. She plays with the tip of her pen, biting on it as she listens to the voice of this very young and interesting man walking in front of her. He looks like he just got out of a High School TV series, with black and grey plaid shirt, his dark grey tight pants matching his grey cardigan underneath his maroon jacket and his black converse. His curls are messy, falling around his face as he moves his hands and points to the screen behind his back. Normally, Y/N would be able to focus on the topic of the seminar and write down some notes she can use to finish her papers and her reports but now she's having a hard time. He's an amazing teacher, he's able to capture everybody's attention and keep their interest about the topic he's explaining, but Y/N can't help but think also about how handsome this Doctor Reid is. “Psychopaths and sociopaths exist and they are among us, sometimes as the most successful people in society because they're often ruthless and superficially charming while having little or no regard for the feelings or needs of others. - Doctor Reid adds, crossing his arms to his chest – Sometimes the need of power, the blind crave for fame and glory go even beyond their loved ones.” Y/N rests her chin on the palm of her hands, writing down this important highlight.

“These successful psychopaths have a tendency to perform premeditated crimes with calculated risk or they may manipulate someone else into breaking the law while keeping themselves safely at a distance. They are master manipulators of other people's feelings, but are unable to experience emotions themselves. - she lifts her head, noticing he's walking right in front of here – You probably know someone like this so keep your heads up. If you relate to any of these characteristics, don't worry. A psychopath wouldn't be self-aware or concern, that's why psychopathy and sociopathy are known as anti-social personality disorders.” She blinks, smiling softly when she spots him looking at her so she bows her head down and writes another note on her book with her pen. Then, she gently bites the top of her pen and sighs; not only he's handsome and attractive, but he's also smart and a very good teacher. He has basically everything. Y/N has looked him up before attending his seminar. Her Criminal Justice teacher told her that Doctor Reid was one of the best profilers at the BAU, which is the reason why Y/N decided to go to New York and take this seminar. She's interested in that team, she's interested in becoming part of that department so the seminar Doctor Reid is teaching, basically pushes her to actually think about sending an application. Y/N also read some of the papers Doctor Reid used for his books about Sexual Predators and their crimes, which are actually very interesting. She wonders if he'll ever stop with her and have a conversation about it, because she would love to know more – and enjoy his company. She can see how much Doctor Reid enjoys teaching.

He clearly likes interacting with other people, expressing his opinions on a particular topic and he loves these subjects. Y/N hasn't seen his eyes shine while he's explaining these disorders, but he's definitely passionate about the topics. “A lot of people confuse anti-social personality with antisocial personality disorders, a category listed in the fourth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental disorders. A killer can match the profile of a psychopath defined by the Psychopathy Check-list Revised, with an antisocial disorder, and have these characteristics: sense of entitlement, unremorseful, apathetic to others, blameful of others, manipulative and cunning, effectively cold... But this killer is not simply persistently an antisocial individual. This killer is a psychopath remorseless predator that uses charm, intimidation and impulsive and cold-blooded violence to attain their ends.” Y/N leans forward, crossing her legs under the desk she's occupying. She knows she shouldn't think about anything else but psychopathy and sociopathy, but Spencer Reid is enchanting when he speaks. Y/N is interested in what he's explaining, but she's also interested in his beauty; it's just a plus, of course, but it's definitely a delicious plus. And from what she can see, a lot of women in the room are staring at Doctor Reid with heart-eyes.

She doesn't blame them, he's very handsome and he's smart. A lethal combination for her. “Most psychopaths, with the exception of those who manage to plow their way through life without participating in crimes, meet the criteria for antisocial personality disorders, but most individuals with antisocial personality disorder are not psychopaths.” Y/N writes this information down, highlighting it with her yellow pen before chewing the top. “The differences between psychopathy and ASPD, antisocial personality disorder, are highlighted by recent laboratory research involving the use of linguistic and emotional information. - Spencer Reid explains, changing the slide on the computer – Psychopaths differ dramatically from non-psychopaths in their performance of cognitive and effective tasks. Compared with normal individuals, psychopaths are less able to process or use deep semantic meanings of language, or appreciate the emotional significance of events or experiences.” Doctor Reid changes the slide again. “Can someone tell me what psychopathy is?” Y/N turns around for a moment, noticing that no one lifts their hand. So she takes her chance and raises her arm, staring at Doctor Reid. He looks at her and points at her. “Psychopathy is a constellation of psychological symptoms, like shallow affect, lack of empathy, guilt and remorse, irresponsibility and impulsivity. It's twice as common as schizophrenia, bipolar disorder and paranoia, and as common as panic disorder, obsessive-compulsive personality disorder and narcissism.” Her heart is beating so fast in her chest, she's not used to talking to a full-room filled with psychologists, students, doctors and FBI agents. But she took her chance and it went decently, because she sees a smile appearing on Doctor Reid's lips after she finished her speech. “That is correct. Psychopaths are born, sociopaths are made. Why? Psychiatrists use the term “psychopathy” to illustrate that the cause of the anti-social personality disorder is hereditary, sociopathy describes behaviours that are the result of a brain injury, abuse or neglect in childhood. - adds Doctor Reid, pacing again back and forth in front of her – While sociopaths are normally less emotionally stable and highly impulsive, and their crimes are compulsive, psychopaths plan their crimes down to the smallest detail. That's why psychopaths are much more difficult to catch, because they don't get carried away in the moment and make fewer mistakes as a result.” Someone in the back of the room raises their hand and asks a question Y/N can't really hear, but Doctor Reid does because he immediately replies. “Not all psychopaths and sociopaths become serial killers. And not all serial killers are psychopaths or sociopaths. But there are certain traits shared between known serial killers and anti-social personality disorders, like predatory behaviour or sensation seeking. - he explains, lowering his eyes for a moment before looking at Y/N for a brief second – Think about hedonistic killers who murder for excitement or arousal, like Thomas Hemming. He murdered two people last year because he wanted to know what it felt like to kill. Or think about Dennis Rader, a serial killer who murdered ten people between 1974 and 1991. he lacked remorse and was impulsive, he felt the need to control and power over others. He was known as the “BTK”, blind, torture and kill killer.” Doctor Reid opens a document on the blackboard with the title “Case Study” and a name highlighted: Jack Kelsall. Y/N remembers reading something for her Criminal Justice professor. It was a case that basically explained the difference between sociopathy and psychopathy because it had all the traits used to describe the typical psychopath. “Jack Kelsall assaulted a 31 year old man before stabbing him 28 times. This shows that the killer didn't have any remorse for his actions, because his crime was extremely violent and pre-meditated. He followed the victim and then killed him. - Doctor Reid says, leaning against his desk – He's a psychopath. Although the murder was frenzied, Kelsall showed patience and planning: he followed potential victims before and shared fantasies he had about murdering a stranger with a knife to his therapist before going out and act on his thoughts.” Y/N is totally enchanted by Doctor Reid and she can't help but smile while looking at him, as he talks about horrible murders. She feels like a High School student in love with her professor. “This case stands as the worst possible outcome of an antisocial personality disorder: senseless violence, perpetrated against a random victim for self-gratification. Kelsall, at his trial and sentencing, didn't apologize to the family, didn't show guilt or any remorse.” She taps the tip of her fingers against the wooden desk she's sitting behind, biting her bottom lip. “He's a textbook psychopath. He would have gone on to kill again if he wasn't caught, he was a serial killer in the making.” Y/N knows that this seminar is almost over but she doesn't want it to be. She could listen to Doctor Reid for hours, his voice is soothing and the way he's explaining everything with such passion and interest is what makes Y/N be even more attracted to him. Not to mention, he's a nice view. “An example of sociopathy and psychopathy mixed in the same individual, is John Wayne Gacy. The “The Killer Clown”. He was an individual that went through a terrible childhood: his father was an alcoholic abuser, that used to physically hit John with objects but also mentally abused him and his mother. John was also molested at a young age by a family friend, he was made fun of by his classmates due to being overweight. These traumas caused major internal and mental issues, joined by the fear of people discovering his sexuality even though he denied being a homosexual until he died. All of these characteristics make him a sociopath. But he's also a psychopath because he tortured, raped and strangled 33 young men between 1972 and 1978. He made the big mistake of hiding the corpses under his house, that were found by the police due to the smell they emanated because of the heating duct. - says Doctor Reid, glancing at the clock on his wrist – If he was only a psychopath, he would've been smarter. He would've found a better way not to get caught, maybe burning the corpses or cutting them in pieces and throwing them somewhere else. He never showed remorse for what he has done and... these are his last words before being executed by lethal injection in 1994.” Doctor Reid changed to the second-to-last slide on the blackboard. “Kiss my ass”. Y/N remembers reading articles about it, how John Gacy denied his sexuality because of the abuse and how he made sure nobody knew he was a serial killer – and not only a Clown for children at parties. She's so amazed about the depth of the mind, how dark and twisted it is, and how most people are so damaged because of a series of traumas in their lives. It's crazy, completely, utterly crazy. That's why she loves it so much. “In the end, the distinction between a psychopath and a sociopath doesn't matter. Both personalities are dangerous, sometimes deadly and they create havoc in people's lives.” When Doctor Reid turns the projector off, he takes a deep breath and looks at the people in the room. They started clapping and thanking him for the seminar, which makes the young doctor bow his head down and smile happily because the seminar is over. And people seemed really interested. Y/N puts her notebook inside of her backpack and waits for a few minutes to see if people leave the room quickly, so she can gather some courage and go up there to talk to him directly.

She doesn't want to flirt with him or ask him out for a drink, she just wants to compliment him for the topic he explained and tell him she really enjoyed those two hours with him. He was amazing. She wonders if he's going to come to New York often or teach seminars somewhere else. If he does, she's definitely going to join him because the way he explains things and the passion he puts inside of his speeches are incredible. And... he might be one of the reasons why she wants to send an application to the BAU. If she gets to work close to him, she'll definitely learn more things than what she has learned in years of University. Y/N stands up from her chair and when Doctor Reid is finally alone, she walks up to him. She waits until he turns around and pulls out her hand, a smile appearing on her lips. Doctor Reid looks at her, then at her hand and gently shakes it. He seems a bit weirded out by the gesture and Y/N wonders if she had made him uncomfortable with that. She didn't want to, it's something she usually does when she talks to strangers but maybe she shouldn't have done that. “Hi, I'm Agent Y/N Y/L/N. I really enjoyed the seminar, it was illuminating.” He tilts his head, smiling again. “Thank you so much, I'm glad you did. I noticed you've written down a lot of notes, I hope they'll be helpful to you in the future.” She quickly nods, biting her bottom lip. “Oh, they definitely will. I'm writing a paper about John Gacy, actually, so what you've said in the end is going to help me focus on the sociopathic tendencies he had.”

Doctor Reid looks at her for a few seconds, then he grabs something out of his bag. “If you have any questions or you want to know more, I could help you out.” He gives her a business card with a telephone number, probably of an office, and his professional email. Y/N doesn't know how to react to that because she wasn't expecting this; not that she thought he was going to be dismissive with her, but still.

Her professor told her that Doctor Reid is an interesting man, but this goes beyond being interesting. He's kind, smart, gorgeous and extremely interesting.

Y/N is not going to complain about having his number and his email, she's certainly going to call him for more information about Gacy that she can't find on the Internet or in books. And who knows, he might also read her paper and maybe help her out with it. “Thank you so much, I really appreciate it. - says Y/N, putting the business card in her pocket – I wish you a wonderful day, Doctor Reid.” “You too, Agent Y/L/N.” And with those words, Y/N walks out of the classroom overwhelmed with joy. She wants to run outside and scream at the sky, or maybe call her professor and tell her all about the seminar but she's really hungry so her emotions need to wait a little more. She's spending the weekend in New York, she has a lot of free time to kill.

It's Saturday night and Y/N finds herself inside of a bar named “Alter-Ego”.

It's on the last floor of a very high skyscraper in the middle of New York and it has a beautiful balcony, filled with people dancing and drinking liquor while talking about their day, facing Central Park. Y/N can even see her Hotel in the distance, standing high and tall, with the lights turned on in most of the rooms. It's August but the air is just perfect, hitting her skin and not making her sweat. Even though the lights are hot and there are too many people in her area, pushing against each other, it's not really hot. And luckily, her makeup is not smeared even though she has been wearing it for the past four hours.

She went out to check out a few places in New York, she had dinner and then she headed to the bar. Y/N has spent the past two days studying and listening people talk about murders, rapes and torture; she's allowed to have fun, to drink something to ease her mind off those thoughts. “I can't believe we have to go back to Boston tomorrow. - says Michael, one of her closest friends that joined her in New York for a “seminar tour”, as he called it – Can we stay here for the next, you know, years of our lives? Please?” Y/N giggles, bringing the glass to her lips. “Ah, I wish. Maybe when we'll have enough money to afford an apartment somewhere here, we can think about it. It would be nice.” He nods, turning around to look at the people next to them. “We should find ourselves someone to go home with tonight, don't you think?” “Michael! Come on, we're not here to get laid. - she mutters, rolling her eyes – Well, I'm not. You got laid last night! Why are you so greedy?” The young man chuckles, shrugging. “What can I say? New Yorkers are hot.” Y/N doesn't disagree, she has seen so many gorgeous men and women in the city for the past two days. Not that in Boston there's no one catching her eyes, but... people from a different city always look more interesting and exciting than the usual ones in Boston. Though, Michael is right: she doesn't have to go to work tomorrow, she can spend a whole morning in her hotel room to pack all of her stuff and then head to the airport. There's nothing wrong in wanting to have a little fun before going back to her life, right? It's the first time she goes to New York, it's the first time she actually goes out of her apartment to do something different than work or study – well, she attended a lot of seminars but still. Also, Y/N is not going to kill anybody; she knows how to defend herself from creeps, like that pervert who has been staring at her since she stepped inside the bar with her short dress and high heels.

Y/N can pull out her badge and he would start running away from her, probably too scared. It's a decent contraceptive, definitely working. So, Y/N turns around and examines all the people there in hope to spot someone decent enough to catch her eyes and attention. Michael touches her hand and lifts his chin, silently telling her to look in a certain direction; and when she does, she feels her knees buckle at the sight. Doctor Spencer Reid is there. How? Why? He's with Agent Eli, one of the professors that attended a seminar about Female Serial Killers that morning, and Doctor Fayez, a psychologist who explained psychopathic tendencies in young children. Y/N didn't think people like them would enjoy a nice night out in a bar filled with young people, but she doesn't really because her attention is now turned to Doctor Reid. He looks even better than yesterday. “Isn't that...” Y/N shushes her friend, covering his hand with hers for a split second.

She tries to read Spencer Reid's lips, hoping to understand what the conversation is about, but she stops immediately when his eyes rest on her face for a split second. Then, she quickly turns her back to him and widens her eyes. Wow, he caught her staring at him. Embarrassing and unprofessional. Now she's never going to send him an email. “Fuck, oh God.” Michael laughs, playing with the edge of his glass. “Oh, come on! You are so embarrassing!” Y/N whines, taking a sip of her Daiquiri. “Listen, I don't know how to stare at people without being caught. I'm sorry, okay? It's not my fault. But God, what is he doing here?” “Maybe he wants to get laid, too. - says her friend, smirking – You should go talk to him.” She widens her eyes, immediately shaking her head. “Are you out of your mind? No, never. What am I supposed to tell him? “Hey, do you remember me? I'm the girl who enjoys talking about John Gacy and his psychopathic tendencies. Do you want to fuck me?”“ Michael winks at her, taking a sip of his beer. “It's a start.” The young woman shakes her head, lowering her eyes. “No. He's with other people, I can't go talk to him.” Her friend puts down his glass and stretches his arms, sneakingly turning around to look at Doctor Reid and see what he's doing. Y/N understands his intention so she tugs on his arm, forcing him to look back at her as she furrows her eyebrows. She doesn't want Doctor Reid to think she's weird. She wouldn't mind going back to her Hotel room with him, though. And maybe this is just the alcohol talking. “You can make him come here, though. - says Michael, crossing his arms to his chest – I'll go away and find myself a cute man to go back to my room with.” Y/N tugs on his arm. “Don't go yet. Tell me what to do.” He raises an eyebrow, not moving. “Oh, come on Y/N. You're hot and you're smart, you know how to make a man come to you.” “No, I don't! At least give me a hint! - she mutters, staring at him with her eyes wide open – Please? Come on, you're supposed to be my friend! Help me?” Michael stares at her for a few seconds then he rolls his eyes. “God, you're helpless.” Y/N shrugs, finishing her drink. “I am but I have you, so I'm good.” “Your lipstick is smeared, fix it. - he whispers, moving her purse towards her – And straighten your skirt, it's raising a bit. I don't think that man is interested in your pussy yet, he's that kind of man who needs psychological arousal before.” She obeys, quickly fixing her lipstick and immediately straightening her skirt and covering her thighs better. Her friend was right, her dress was raising a bit too high; and even though she has beautiful legs to show off, which she did, her panties need to be covered until she reaches her Hotel Room – or a taxi, it doesn't matter, as long as she's far away from the crowd. She doesn't want to put on a show for New York City. Y/N taps her fingers against the high table she's leaning against and looks in the direction where Doctor Reid is, noticing he's looking at her. She tilts her head and gives him a smile, silently listening to what Michael is telling her to do. She feels like a complete idiot for this, but she wants to talk to Spencer and this is the perfect chance; it's the right moment, she has to try or she'll go crazy tomorrow morning, regretting everything. She doesn't want to go to her Hotel room with a man that is not Spencer Reid. Is it weird? Is the alcohol talking again? No, not necessarily. Y/N flips her hair, looking down. “I swear, he thinks I'm an idiot.” “A very hot idiot, though. - says Michael, stopping one of the waiters to order another round of Daiquiris – Don't underestimate yourself, if he's interested he'll come here on his own even if you look weird.” She huffs, shaking her head. “He gave me his business card, though.” At her words, her friend widens his eyes. “You didn't tell me that!” “Well, does it matter? It's not like he gave me his personal phone number, you know. - Y/N replies, looking up to see Doctor Reid taking off his jacket – He did it just because I told him about my paper.” Michael shakes his head, grabbing his new drink. “God, you're really helpless.” She rolls her eyes again. “Thank you, Michael. Have you spotted someone you like?” He nods, smirking. “Yes, and now I'm going to shoot my shot. Do you think you can do it? All by yourself?” “Yeah, you can go. If this doesn't go well, I'll just head to my room. - says Y/N, moving her eyes on another table not far from theirs – I'll text you, okay?” Michael gives her a kiss on the cheek, nodding. “Okay. Stay safe.” Once Michael is gone back inside the bar, Y/N sits on one of the white chairs outside. She takes a sip of her drink and stares at the beautiful view on Central Park, crossing her legs but keeping her thighs covered.

Maybe being alone is not so bad, maybe it's a chance to actually admire the beauty of this view and enjoy a decent drink before going back to her frantic life in Boston. Getting laid isn't the reason why she came to New York, even though a little fun before leaving wouldn't be so bad. She wasn't expecting to develop a crush on someone at a “seminar tour”. Sure, she knew what Spencer looked like because she saw pictures of him on pretty much all of the articles she has read about him, but he looks better in real life. Photographs don't do him justice. Tonight he's wearing a simple white button down shirt with blank trousers. And wow, he looks delicious. No wonders a lot of women check him out, he's really pretty. Especially when he smiles.

Y/N wouldn't mind walking up to him if only she had the courage to do it, she knows he wouldn't kick her away; but what if she interrupts his conversation? What if he talks to her just because she's in front of him? No, she would never bother him. She would feel too shitty. Y/N finishes her second drink of the night and thanks the waiter for taking away her glass. She stands up and places her hands on the railing in front of her as she leans forward to look at Central Park. There are lights everywhere, people running inside the park and having fun. After all, it's a Saturday night. People have fun. But she's right there, wondering how to talk to a man not far away from her. Maybe Michael is right, she's helpless, but what can she do? She has never been good at flirting. Sure, she had boyfriends before and even a few one night stands with strangers, but none of them were like Doctor Reid. He's a human being, of course, but he's smart. He's not the kind of guy you meet a bar and get drunk with them, taking them home or having sex with them in their car before going home. But Y/N is just finding excuses to not go up there and talk to him, because she's too shy to make the first move. She knows she shouldn't, she's not ugly and she's smart, but what if he's not interested? What if she's too young for him? She's 28 years old, 9 years younger than him. But still, what if? “Enjoying the view?” Y/N almost jumps at the intrusion, noticing Doctor Reid beside her. Okay, maybe looking at Central Park and acting like a complete idiot worked. She hopes Michael saw everything, so she won't have to tell him everything and listen to hear him say “I told you so!” the whole flight to Boston. “I am, yes. - she replies with a smile, turning to him – Hi Doctor Reid, I wasn't expecting to see you here.” He tilts his head, taking a sip of his glass filled with transparent liquid. “I'm enjoying my last night in New York, I didn't want to spend it in my Hotel Room all alone.” Y/N hums, biting her bottom lip. “Yeah, I get it. I thought the same, which is why I'm here.” “With your boyfriend?” She opens her lips to say something, then chuckles. “No, no. That's Michael, he's my best friend.” Reid raises an eyebrow. “Oh, I thought he was your boyfriend.” She giggles, shrugging. “You're not the only one who told me that. But no, me and Michael are just friends; he doesn't really like women, so it would be impossible for him to be my boyfriend.” “Makes sense. - says the young doctor – May I offer you a drink? Or something to eat?” Y/N shakes her head, smiling softly. As much as she wants to accept because it's a nice offer, she doesn't want to wake up with a headache tomorrow or she won't be able to sleep and go to the airport. She hates headaches, especially if they're caused by too much alcohol from the night before. “No, I'm done drinking for the night. But thank you so much anyway. - she replies, looking back at Central Park in front them – Where are you staying? Which Hotel?” Doctor Reid points to the tall red building behind Central Park. “The Crowne Plaza.” Y/N jumps when his hand brushes against hers on the railing. “Me too! I've never seen you there!” “I'm only there for the night, I've spent every morning and afternoon at the Centre. - he explains, not pulling his hand away – I saw you when you arrived last night, my room has a balcony that faces the entrance of the Hotel. You were with your friend.” “We had dinner and then went to the Cinema. - she mutters, smiling – Do you think you can walk me home after? I don't want to be alone.” Spencer quickly nods, giving her a smile. “Of course. I wouldn't let you go home alone.” Y/N turns her eyes again, her heart beating fast in her chest. He's so cute, why can't she know how to flirt a little? She desperately wants to end her night in his bedroom or hers. And now that she knows they're in the same Hotel, she wants it even more because it means she won't have to kick him out for the night – and, who knows, maybe they'll stay up all night talking and having fun. It would be hot. A sinful night with Doctor Reid. Ah, it would be a very nice memory to take home to Boston. “Did you know that Central Park covers around 3.5 square miles and stretches across 843 acres of land? - those words come out of her mouth before she can stop them – It's larger than Vatican city and almost six times larger than Monaco.” Reid looks at her for a brief moment. “I do now.” She blushes hard. Why did she say that? And why doesn't he seem weirded out by that? “I haven't had the chance to take a walk there, though. I would love to explore it next time I'll come here.” “Oh, you're not from New York? - asks the young doctor – I thought you were.” Y/N shakes her head. “No, I live in Boston. I'm not originally from America, though.” Spencer looks at her, a grin appearing on his lips. “You're italian.” She furrows her eyebrows, crossing her arms to her chest. “How do you know that? Is it my accent?” “If I say yes, are you going to get offended? - asks Doctor Reid, smiling softly – But yes, you have a very strong accent. Not all the time, just.. some words. It's cute, though. I'm not complaining.” Y/N blushes, lowering her eyes on the tip of her shoes. “Thank you. And no, I'm not offended. My accent gets really strong when I get mad, that's for sure. Well, I actually talk in italian when I'm really angry, I don't do it on purpose, it's just something that happens.” “Really? Tell me something in italian. - says Spencer, crossing his arms to his chest – I want to hear how your voice changes when you speak in your mother tongue.” She doesn't know what to say to him, so she wrinkles her nose and tries to come up with something. “Domani tornerò a Boston, non sono pronta.” Spencer furrows his eyebrows. “What does that mean?” “I go back to Boston tomorrow and I'm not ready for it. - explains Y/N, smiling – So? How does my voice sound when I'm talking in italian? I think it's a bit deeper.” He tilts his head, scratching his chin. “It is. Your voice when you speak in English is higher, but it's still melodic and very nice to listen to.” Charming. Not only he's smart, handsome and kind but he's also charming. What the actual fuck? How is it possible? “Wow, you're giving me too many compliments, Doctor Reid. - she jokes, putting a hand over her heart as she bats her eyelashes – I might fall in love with you by the end of the night.” This time, Spencer laughs. It's such a cute and sweet laugh. “Does this mean you'll give me your number before the end of the night?” “Not only that, if you ask nicely.” Okay, maybe that was too straight-forward because Doctor Reid's expression is priceless. He's staring at Y/N as if she just stepped on his toes and she doesn't know if that's a bad thing or not. She said those words without thinking – no, that's not true.

This is exactly what she wanted and tried to avoid at all costs: she gets very direct about what she wants once she's comfortable, and she felt comfortable enough with Spencer to basically tell him she wants to have sex with him. Well, she didn't exactly said “sex” but those words are quite self-explanatory. Maybe this is rushed. They don't even know each other but that's the point of a one night stand. Correct? “So if I ask you to come to my bedroom tonight, would you say yes?”

Y/N moves her eyes back on his face. “What do you think?” Doctor Reid shrugs. “I don't know. I'm not very good at, you know, flirting. I'm not used to it.” She smiles at him, wanting to caress his cheeks with both hands and kiss the tip of his nose. He looks so cute right now, his cheeks flushed and a little smile hovering his lips.

Those plump pink lips, Y/N wonders how they would feel on her body – and she might get to know how they will, if she plays her cards right. Apparently, they are both terrible at flirting which usually doesn't help the situation because one of them might get turned off but they both want the same exact thing. They want each other so they will get each other before the end of the night. Hopefully. “You're not going to kill me, are you?”

Reid laughs again, his hand gently laying on top of hers. “Of course not.” Y/N pretends to be shocked, covering her mouth with her free hand. “Oh no! That's exactly what a murderer would say. Now I'm scared.” “A stupid murderer, though. I'd be more subtle. - mutters Spencer, the young woman widening her eyes as she takes a step back – I am joking! Don't look at me like that, I swear that I was just joking.” “Yeah, that's what he said. - she grins, leaning closer to him – Even if we go back to your room together, will you still help me with my paper? Sex won't ruin everything, will it?” He tilts his head, looking at her. “I'll help you because I want to, not because I want something from you.” Y/N stares at his lips, biting her bottom one. “Alright, then.” “Do you want to go now?” asks Doctor Reid. She looks behind her back for a few seconds, spotting Michael getting really comfortable with a guy not far away from where she's standing outside. Her friend is laughing at something the other man said to his ear and she smiles, because they're both going to get laid.

Finally! This has never happened to her when she went out with Michael before, usually only one of them is going to get laid but this time... Y/N is going to enjoy a very interesting night with Doctor Reid. So? Her Criminal Justice professor wouldn't be too happy to know that Y/N went to New York to attend the seminars, especially Doctor Reid's, and also had sex with one of the professors.

Well, Y/N is going to keep that a secret; she wouldn't want to spread this fact and risk the news to get out of her department in Boston, she doesn't want to mess with Reid's career in any way. Especially because she would love to join his team, or at least work with him on a case. “Yes, we can go now. - says Y/N, grabbing her purse from the floor – I have to text my friend and tell him I'm going back to the Hotel. Do you mind?” Spencer lets her hand go, shaking his head. “No, do what you need to do.” Y/N pulls out her phone and quickly texts Michael: “Doctor Reid invited me to his bedroom, he's going to give me private lessons. Good night! ;)”. She looks up at Spencer, still staring at her, and smiles at him before starting to walk back inside the bar.

Y/N walks past Michael without saying a single word, immediately followed by Doctor Reid, and steps inside the elevator that is going to bring them to the first floor. When the metallic doors of the elevator slide shut, Spencer is all over her. Y/N finds herself pushed against the metal wall of the elevator, his mouth pressed down on hers as his hands gently keep her face in place.

And she lets herself enjoy the moment, closing her eyes as her lips and his mix perfectly in a kiss that sends shivers down her spine. She didn't think Doctor Reid would be the guy to push a woman against a wall and kiss her with such passion, but there are so many things she doesn't know about him – and hopefully, some of them will be shown tonight in his bedroom. Spencer slides a hand behind her back, caressing her delicate bare skin with the tip of his fingers as she moans softly against his mouth. Y/N likes when someone touches her back while kissing her, she doesn't know why but she finds it extremely hot.

And Spencer Reid is already hot all by himself, so this is just adding fuel to the fire spreading through her body. Maybe coming to New York to see him wasn't such a bad idea. His other hand roams around her body, settling between her legs as he runs his fingers up her skirt. Y/N arches her back, grasping his white blouse, and tugs on it as a soft moan escapes from her lips, crashing against his. Spencer brushes the tip of his thumb against the delicate material of her panties, not sliding his fingers underneath them. But then... The door opens and Spencer pulls away from her.

She covers her mouth, brushing the tip of her index on her bottom lip, and blushes as he walks out of the elevator as if nothing happened. He has a stain of her lipstick on his mouth but he doesn't seem to mind, which is hot. He kissed her and he has proof of it. Hot. Extremely hot. Y/N takes a deep breath and follows him out of the elevator, running her fingers through her hair. The fresh air of the night hits her when she steps out of the building, the sound of cars moving right in front of her on the highway making her focus on the fact that she's walking back to her Hotel with a man, to have sex with him in his bedroom. Crazy. Spencer turns around, waiting for her. “Do you want to call a cab?” Y/N shrugs, blushing when his hand slides on her back. “Yes, I don't think I can walk to the Hotel. These heels are killing me.” “Why did you wear them?” “Because they make my legs look hotter. - she mutters, winking – You don't like them?” Spencer gives her a smile. “I do, they make your legs look hotter.” Y/N chuckles, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Thank you. Now please, call a cab or I won't be able to stand up much longer.” He moves his hand upwards, stopping one of the cabs. Once they get inside and Spencer gives the driver their Hotel address, Y/N settles beside the young doctor with a hand gently placed on his thigh. She runs the tip of her finger right on his knee, teasing him without being too obvious as she bites her bottom lip; Spencer wraps an arm around her shoulder to pull her body against his and he looks outside the car window, his heart beating loud and fast in his chest. “What did your friend say?” Y/N shrugs, closing her eyes. “He told me to have fun and be ready at four.” Spencer hums, turning his head towards her to leave a kiss on her neck. “Oh, so you don't sleep in the same room as his?” “No, we always travel together but book different rooms. You know, in case one of us finds a partner to spend the night with. - says the young woman, scooting closer to his body – Why? Are you sharing your room with someone?” “I wouldn't have invited you over if I were. - says the FBI agent, giving her a smile – Which floor are you sleeping on?.” Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Fifth. What about you?” “Second.” None of them speak right after that, waiting for the driver to drop them off right in front of their Hotel.

The slow music playing inside the vehicle is helping her calm down; not because she's nervous about sleeping with him, but because she wants to do so many things to him. She can't even think straight, she's very excited. And also wet, because of the way he touched her inside of the elevator at the building.

Y/N wasn't expecting Spencer Reid to be so fun. Once they're both out of the car, Spencer grabs her hand and walks with her inside the main Hall of the building.

He stops at the reception desk to grab his keys and then leads the young woman inside the elevator, not speaking a single word. Y/N leans against his chest, his arm gently resting on her belly, as she breathes in and out, trying to stop her heart from beating this fast. She has never been more excited to sleep with a guy before, not even when she had met her ex boyfriend at a party and it sent her straight to his bedroom. He was the most attractive man she has ever seen, but now that place has been taken by Spencer Reid. Not only is he smart, he's also handsome, strong and very interesting. Y/N feels blessed to be able to sleep with him, but he should feel blessed too. She picks her men particularly, she doesn't sleep with anyone – there's nothing wrong with this, of course! Spencer leads her out of the elevator, straight to his bedroom at the end of the second floor's hallway. The lights are very low, there's not a single sound coming from any one of the rooms on that floor and Y/N wonders if they're all sleeping or the rooms are soundproof. Either way, she's not going to hold back tonight – and she's going to have fun, she's going to be loud. “My room is a bit messy, I'm sorry in advance.” Spencer Reid opens the door of his bedroom, allowing her to step inside first. Y/N turns on the lights and looks around, noticing a desk near the window, filled with papers, pens, books and pieces of journals. She raises an eyebrow, leaving her purse near the door along with her heels, and walks barefoot inside of the room with a little smile on her lips. She notices a pile of papers with “Psychopathy and Sociopathy” written on them, probably notes for his seminars. She wants to turn around and ask him if she can take those notes at home, but before she can open her mouth, Spencer Reid is right behind her and with a hand on her neck. Y/N gasps, her eyes finding his. “Oh, do you want to play?” He leans, a kiss being pressed on her lips. “Take off your clothes.” “I didn't think you would be the one giving orders. - says the young woman, pulling away from him as she slides her panties down her legs without pulling off her dress – Why don't you undress me?” Spencer's eyes travel down her legs. She's not wearing anything underneath her dress, it's actually kind of hot – and he knows how to play with her, so he points to the bed. Y/N, without thinking twice, lays on the bed with her head towards the ceiling and a smirk appearing on her lips. Of course she smirks, she's going to get sex. Or at least, she hopes so. “I'm going to do something first. - says Spencer, kneeling at the edge of the bed, gently lifts her right leg – Just close your eyes for me, okay?” “Tell me what you’re planning on doing.” He slowly lifts the skirt of her dress, pushing it up to her hip. “I'm going to open your legs.” Y/N arches her back, knowing exactly what he's doing. “What else?” Spencer leaves a kiss on her thigh, his curls brushing against her soft skin. Y/N bites her bottom lip, grasping the bed sheets as a soft moan escapes from her mouth when Spencer's lips travel right between her legs. The warmth of his tongue is making it hard to breathe. “Then, I'm going to touch you like this. - the tip of his thumb brushes against her clit, the wetness already coating the rest of his fingers – And then... my mouth gets to work.” Y/N doesn't have the time to reply to him because he brings his mouth down to her core, his tongue sliding on her clit as his thumb now caresses her thigh. She runs her fingers through his hair, pulling his curls as another moan escapes from her mouth. “Spencer, God...” “Not God, but thank you. - he whispers, slipping his index inside of her – Spread your legs for me.” She quickly obeys, putting her foot on the edge of the bed as she moves her hip up to his face. It has been so long since someone had gone down on her so she's definitely going to enjoy everything he's going to give her, especially because they'll never see each other again and this is the perfect opportunity to have the best night of her life. And he's so fucking good, his tongue caressing her clit as his lips suck on it. A shiver runs down her spine, his curls trapped between her fingers. Her blood boils in her veins, the pleasure spiking and running through her body, focusing right behind her belly button – she knows she's not going to last long, especially if he keeps diving his fingers in and out of her as he teases her with his tongue slightly pressed against her clit. Y/N rolls her hip, his mouth devouring her as his tongue takes his fingers' place. He dives it inside of her, his chin drenched in her arousal as Y/N moans loudly. The pleasure is getting almost overwhelming, heat spreading over his cheeks and her dress rising up, exposing now half of her body to him. Spencer's right hand travels up her torso, gently playing with the print of her hard nipple against the soft fabric of her dress. Y/N arches her back again, slapping her right hand on the bed as she tries not to scream too loud – she doesn't anyone to hear her, even though she's dying to see Spencer's reaction to her moans.

Does he like them? Do they make him excited? Does he know that he's making her feel so perfectly, so heavenly? She feels like she's on cloud nine, she has almost forgot how good it feels to be touched like this, adored like this, worshipped like this by a man who knows exactly how to touch her? “I could do this all night. - whispers Spencer, hissing when Y/N tugs on his hair – But I'm too greedy and I need more.” He quickly pulls away from her, his mouth immediately attacking hers and she lets him. Y/N slides her hands behind his neck, moaning on his lips as the kiss grows more heated, more passionate, more sensual, more everything. Oh, she has missed this feeling. She has missed being with a man that knows exactly what he wants, what he needs from her. Y/N has never thought that she would get in bed with none other than Spencer Reid himself, a man that not a lot people can get close to, a person that has lost so much and has given even more to his team than any other person, a man that has a brain filled with gold. It's incredibly hot how he can shift from being the gentleman escorting her to the Hotel, the smart professor educating a class filled with policemen, FBI agents, to the horny man eating her out and then desperately kissing her to the point she thinks he's going to consume her lips. “I want to fuck your mouth.” Y/N smirks, rolling over his body so that she's straddling him. “Oh please, do it.” Spencer rests on his elbows, watching the young woman leaving kisses down his torso. Her lips are soft, warm, caressing the soft skin of his belly as she unbuttons his shirt before pushing it down his shoulders. She grabs his right hand, bringing it to her hair so that his fingers can play with her hair before tugging on them.

Y/N slides down his body before settling between his legs and unbuckles his belt, opening the zip of his trousers without taking her eyes off his beautiful face. His pupils are blown, his cheeks are flushed and he looks so fucking good. He looks sinfully delicious, a sight that she's never going to forget – especially because he seems so eager to be inside of her, so eager to play with her that it makes Y/N's head spin. In a good way, of course.

She's very excited too. Spencer grabs her by the chin, lifting her for a second so that he can kiss her but Y/N pulls away and goes back to work, pushing his boxers down his legs. He kicks everything off the bed, so that he's laying completely naked on the bed, and Y/N smirks at the sight. “You look so fucking hot right now. - she whispers, her fingers already wrapping around his hard cock springing free between his legs – I wish I could take a picture.” Spencer bites his bottom lip, not indifferent at the idea. “You could.” Y/N shakes her head. “I got my phone stolen twice, I'm not going to ruin our careers for this.” This time, he chuckles. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Y/N likes when she can talk in the middle of an encounter, it makes her feel less like a one night stand, but she's not surprised. She liked Spencer Reid, she liked talking to him at the Bar before they went back to their Hotel, so she knew she was going to have fun with him. “Maybe next time. - she whispers, slipping down his body so that she's facing his cock – Now shut up and let me do my job.” Spencer quickly nods, running his fingers through her hair as she tightly grips on his cock. She massages it very slowly, but he has other plans because he presses his free hand on her head to drive her mouth down onto his member. Y/N closes her eyes, her tongue sliding around the head of his cock as a loud moan escapes from his perfectly pink lips. As much as Y/N loves going down on a guy, she's sure she won't be able to fit all of that inside of her mouth. She has a horrible gag reflex but that doesn't stop her from trying, relaxing her throat and pushing him deep inside of her mouth as she hollows her cheeks. Spencer moans again, his fingers tugging on her hair as he throws his head back on the pillow behind him. “Fuck, just like that, pretty girl.” His eyes are closed, his jaw is clenching and the more Y/N takes him inside of her mouth, sucking on it gently while massaging his testicles with the tip of her fingers, the more he's gone. The pleasure spikes inside of his body, settling right behind his belly button as the warmth of her mouth, her saliva dripping down her chin and on the base of his cock, grow more and more. Y/N slowly pulls away, flattening her tongue and dragging it up his length before sucking on the head with her eyes on Spencer's face. He's totally gone, her mouth has control over him and she loves how responsive he is just to a simple blowjob. If he's like this for a blowjob, she can't wait to see how he's going to look when she'll ride him. “Don't hold back, I want to hear your voice, doctor. - Y/N whispers, her tongue licking down his length again to collect his arousal – Your voice is so hot.” Spencer lets out a loud moan in response to her words, which only made her smile more. He moves his hip towards her face, forcing her to take more of him inside of her mouth so she closes her eyes and allows him to do that. “Your mouth is fucking sinful.” Y/N can't help but smirk, pulling his cock out of her mouth as she licks it up and down again. Her right hand wraps around it, massaging it slowly while she looks up at him and meets his dark eyes, filled with desire, passion, need – and she gets wet again at the sight. Because he does look gorgeous. And she can't wait to feel him inside of her. “Thank you, doctor.” Spencer tugs his hair, forcing her to take him inside of her mouth again. This time Y/N chokes a bit on it, not expecting him to do that but she doesn't mind because that was so fucking hot. Spencer is just so fucking hot and she can't stop thinking about how lucky she is. “Look at me, doctor.” And he does, admiring the way her lips stretch around the head of his cock. Knowing that he's watching her, makes Y/N work faster and better because it's exciting. So she slides his cock on her tongue, taking almost all of him inside of her mouth before starting to bob her head up and down while her tongue traced the vein on his length.

And oh, boy. The sound that left his mouth was priceless. Y/N wishes she could've recorded it. “Fuck, you're so good at this, pretty girl.” She loves this little pet name, it makes her want to do this even better for him so she does. “Fuck my mouth, doctor.”

Y/N glances at him for a few seconds before closing her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek. It's not a sad tear, it's just the effect that a cock pressed on her tongue and down her throat has – hot, right?

She probably has mascara smeared under her eyes but she doesn't care; right now, all she needs is to feel Spencer Reid coming undone because of her mouth. The young doctor pushes her head down once again and, at the same time, he starts to lift his hips and down so that his cock can slide on her tongue. Saliva collects at the base of it, dripping down his length to help with the movements. “Perfect, your mouth is fucking perfect. - he whispers, fucking her mouth quickly as the desire builds up inside of him – You take my cock so fucking well.” Of course she does, she has been waiting for this moment for... well, at least an hour. Spencer closes his eyes, exposing his neck once again, and lets out a loud gasp as Y/N picks up the pace of her movements. She holds a hand on his thigh as she uses the other one to grip whatever couldn't fit inside of her mouth in order to make him feel everything.

She stares at him from her eyelashes, admiring the way his nose scrunch because of the pleasure spreading through his body, and his lips part when he moans, when he calls her name, when he tries to repress whatever sound that escapes his lips. Seeing him so vulnerable, being the cause of this vulnerability and having the power both in her hands and in her mouth – not just metaphorically – makes Y/N feel invincible, as if she was destined to be between his legs and do whatever she wants to him. Because yes, in this moment she can do everything she has always dreamed to. As soon as she can feel his movements getting sloppier, Y/N slows down. She licks the soft skin around his head, the tasty pre-come liquid sliding down her throat but she doesn't have the time to pull away because Spencer begins to push himself inside of her mouth again. And this time, he's more determined, more harsh, his moans way fucking hotter than before. “So fucking good, pretty girl. Wish I could have you like this under my desk everyday.” That wouldn't be such a bad idea, Y/N would love this – as long as she can have him with his mouth between his legs after each time. “I'm not going to be able to stop thinking about you with my cock shoved down your throat, do you know how dangerous that thought is? - he whimpers, lifting his hip so that his cock can slide down her throat before pulling away – Choke on it, pretty girl.” And he pushes her head down his hips, Y/N really choking on his cock but allowing him to do whatever he wants to her because that's exactly what she needed. It has been so long since she has felt the need to be dominated, and even though she thought she had control over him for a moment, she knew it wasn't true.

Her knees are starting to burn, she doesn't really like this position – especially if she desperately wants to ride him later, but she can't tell him to stop. She doesn't want Spencer to stop; but at the same time, she doesn't want him to come down her throat. No, he has to fuck her from behind first and then he can come wherever he wants. Even inside of her. Oh, that would be so fucking perfect. Y/N slides his right hand between her legs, her arousal spilling on the blanket as she desperately starts to touch her clit in slow movements. She can't help it but getting even wetter when Spencer grasps, with his free hand, the blanket next to him and pulls her hair with such force. A little moan escaping her mouth, due to his cock sliding down her throat and her fingers playing with herself. If she could record herself right now, she would because the feeling of her mouth filled with his length and her fingers toying with her clit, is just fucking perfect. “I'm going to come, fuck.” Y/N quickly taps on his thighs, a silent call for him. She doesn't want him to come, he can't. Not yet. Spencer immediately stops, not wanting to hurt her or making her uncomfortable in any way – and probably also because he doesn't want to come inside of her mouth without fucking her first. So, the young doctor releases the pressure on her head, gently lifting her face as Y/N follows his hand. She faces him now, her lips puffy, red . She drags the back of her hand on her chin, saliva coating her skin as she smirks. Y/N is breathing heavily, her chest is flushed and so are her cheeks, with her eyes now watery and that hazy look in her eyes. “I don't want you to come just now.” Spencer grabs her by the face, his lips crashing onto hers. “I don't want that either.” Y/N straddles him, her hands scratching his torso as he lifts his body up. She peels off his blouse, throwing it on the floor as she pushes him on the bed. There are so many things she wants to do to him, she doesn't even know where to start. “Do you have a condom?” Spencer shakes his head, gasping. “Fuck. No, I didn't bring them. I didn't think I would find someone.”

She stares at him for a few seconds, then bites her bottom lip. “Are you clean?” “Yeah, I am. I get tested every six months and...” Y/N kisses him again, grabbing his erection by the base.”So am I.” And without waiting any second, Y/N pushes his cock inside of her, sitting on it inch by inch. She lets out a sinful moan that echoes through the room, Spencer only able to watch the way she's taking him so well inside of her. Any sanity she thought she had left, disappeared. The stabbing pleasure is now taking control of her body, as she grinds up and down his length on top of him while Spencer guides her movements with his hands on her hips. The only sounds that can be heard inside that room are Y/N's little gasps each time he fills her up with his cock. “You feel so good inside of me. - she whispers, licking the soft skin under his chin – So fucking big.” Spencer hums, stopping her after those words. “Wait, you should take off your dress.” Y/N forgot about it as soon as he started touching her, but he's definitely right. She unzips her dress and pulls it off, throwing it on the floor where his clothes and her panties are laying. And when Y/N looks at him, Spencer is in awe. His hands immediately cover her boobs, squeezing them as her nipples harden up against his palms. Now she understands why he asked her to take off her dress, because he wanted to do this – and well, she needed this. “I'm definitely going to fuck your boobs before you leave this room.” Y/N giggles, shifting on top of him. “Can't wait for it, honestly.” The young doctor plays with her nipples, slowly moving his hips upwards to meet hers. And she leans down, grinding against him as another gasp escaped her lips. Spencer moves his hands away, down to her hip again and wraps his lips around her right nipple, sucking on it lightly as Y/N throws her head back, pulling his soft curls. “Fuck!” Spencer closes his eyes, a deep growl leaving his mouth as Y/N sits on his hip. She wraps her arms around his neck, holding him close to her body as he looks up at her. His tongue swirls around her nipple, his left hand playing with the other one as Y/N whines again. “Your nipples are sensitive, aren't they?” She nods, biting her bottom lip. “Keep doing that, please.” Spencer obeys because, of course, he wants to give her all the pleasure he can in just one night. And also because he loves her breasts, they are soft, and perky and just perfect to play with. His tongue laps around her right nipple again, gently biting on it as Y/N starts to move again up and down.

His length disappearing inside of her, the sensation of being filled up sending shivers down her spine as Spencer moans softly, her warmth clenching around him making him feel like he's on cloud nine. Spencer swirls his tongue around her right nipple again before attacking the other, sucking on it while sliding a hand between their bodies. Y/N knows what he's going to do so she stops him because he wants to come just because of his cock. She doesn't need to be stimulated, that can happen later when they're going for a second round. “My knees are hurting. - she whispers, hoping he understands – But fuck, don't ever stop.” Spencer leaves a kiss on top of her nipple, opening his mouth a few seconds after to lick it. He keeps his eyes on her face, allowing her to admire him while he's worshipping one of the most sensitive parts of her body. And fuck, he looks stunning like this. Spencer licks the top of her nipple in a circular motion, sucking on it before lapping it. And Y/N throws her head back again, scratching his shoulder as she stops moving completely.

The tingling sensation now spreading through her body, heat covering her cheeks and shivers running in her blood. She could come just for this, just because his mouth is just perfect against her nipples. Before she can open her mouth to say something, Spencer rolls over her body so that she's laying on the bed with her back pressed on the mattress. He quickly settles between her legs, his cock slipping out of her body but quickly pushing it back inside as Y/N moans loudly.

“Is it better now, pretty girl? Will you take me right now?” Y/N doesn't even have the time to reply because he's already pounding into her, his face right in front of her as his lips attack hers in a messy kiss, a kiss that makes her toes curl. This is not a simple one night stand, this is the perfect one night stand with a man that knows how to move, how to touch her, how to kiss her. And she wishes this night never ends. Y/N stretches around him, taking him inside of her so well as he fills her up to the brim. Spencer bites her bottom lip, their hands finding each other as their fingers intertwine while his body is totally pressed on top of hers. Ah, the missionary is not a boring position if you know how to use it. “Fuck me, doctor. Please, fuck me. - she whimpers on his lips, her voice nothing but a whisper – Please, just fuck me so hard. I need it.” His chest is pressing against hers, her nipples brushing against his skin each time he moves and his hips roll towards her, filling her up with his cock. Y/N doesn't know which part of her body is receiving more attention, the pleasure is getting almost overwhelming and her mind is starting to wander to that intense but beautiful hazy space. Her eyes roll back, but Spencer kisses her lips to bring her back from that state. “Look at me while I fuck you, pretty girl. - he murmurs, a smirk appearing on his lips – Or are you too lost in your pleasure to do it?” Y/N wants to cry. Of course she's in pleasure, she's about to come and he doesn't seem to want to stop his movements, which are definitely pushing her to the edge. Y/N puts a hand behind his neck, bringing his face down so that their lips can meet again and again in messy kisses, their tongues sliding against each other as she arches her back off the bed. “Fuck me, fuck me. Please, just fuck me.”

“You are so fucking greedy, pretty girl. Do you want me to fuck you like the little whore you are?-asks Spencer, his left hand leaving hers to settle around her throat – Do you want me to use this pretty pussy of yours?” Y/N lets out a yelp when Spencer squeezes her throat just enough that the pleasure grows more and more intense each second. The tingling sensation now spreading through her lower back as he pounds into her, fucking her quickly and deeply to the point she can feel him in her throat. It's hot, it's messy, it's not romantic. It's exactly what Y/N wanted from him. “Call me like that again.” She has never been into it, “whore” is such a disgraceful term that should never be used; not even when you're fighting with someone. But oh, in this situation it ignited a fire inside of her. “You are my whore, do you understand that? - he whispers, his fingers digging in her neck – You are my whore and I can use you however you want, whenever I want tonight.” “My whore”, that's hot. Y/N looks at him, her fingers brushing against his cheeks. “Please, do whatever you want with me.” Her mind is clouded with everything he's doing to her, rolling his hips so that he fills her up perfectly and his hand gently resting on her throat, squeezing it from time to time just to remind her that he's in control of her body, and that he's using her. She'll go back to Boston with more than just a few notes about Reid's seminar and she's fine with it. Riding the edge between pain and pleasure, the most delicious combination that has ever existed, Y/N knows that she's going to come soon. And it happens when Spencer takes his hand off her throat, using it to circle her clit with the tip of his thumb.

And with that final push, Y/N tumbles over the edge. The orgasm hitting her hard, a loud yell leaving her lips as Spencer covers her mouth with his, growling on it while he spills inside of her, filling her up just the way she needed to be filled.

She chokes on her own moans, scratching Spencer's back with her hands before whining against his lips, as he comes hard and deep inside of her. She can feel her legs shaking because of the intense pleasure, her eyes watering at the moment so intimate and so powerful, her fingers digging inside of his skin. Y/N tries to catch her breath with her eyes closed and her heart beating too fast in her chest, Spencer collapsing on top of her as he hides his face in the crook of her neck. He closes his eyes, leaving a kiss on her chin before rolling beside her, and he keeps a hand over hers. “Well..” Spencer stares at the ceiling. “I'm sorry if I called you...” Y/N stretches her arms, turning on her side so she can face him. “You're allowed to call me that during sex.” He chuckles, looking at her with a smile. “Noted. Do you want to take a shower?” “I think I'll stay here for a few minutes, my legs are not exactly working right now. - she replies, blushing when his right hand brushes on her belly – I'm too sore to stand up and walk. Thank you.” Spencer winks at her, leaning in to kiss his lips. “You know, by the time two partners finish having sex, their hearts are pounding out of their chests, they're drenched in sweat and they're collapsed on the bed. The difference between a 35 minutes work out and a 30 minutes session of sex is the frequency of breaks. When you work out, you usually take breaks to drink some water or just walk around to stretch your muscles. During sex, you don't take breaks unless it's for changing positions. So vigorous sex can be considered a full work out on your lower body. By the time you're done, you're spent, you're exhausted and your legs need a break. That's why you're sore and can't walk.” Y/N listens to his little rant about their sex session, admiring the way his lips move when he seaks and smiling softly when he compares their sex to a simple work out.

Well, it actually makes sense; she's completely exhausted but she's satisfied. She feels like she just had the most amazing meal of her life, satisfying her and allowing her to fantasize about what has just happened. “We lasted more than 30 minutes, Doctor Reid. - she whispers, pointing at the clock on the wall – It has been an hour and fifteen minutes. It's crazy, it has never happened to me. Well, I've never been with a guy who could last more than 15 minutes and could be able to make me come, so... I guess I should thank you.”

He hums, his hand sliding down her belly to her hip. “That's sad. You're welcome.” Y/N chuckles, getting closer to him. “And you're the first guy who fucked me bareback.” “You're the first woman who allowed me to fuck her bareback. - he says, his dirty words turning her on even more than usual – And I need to stop cussing. I never do that.”

She caresses his cheek, brushing the tip of her thumb on his bottom lip. “I find it hot. Especially because your voice is quite attractive, so, you know.” Spencer raises an eyebrow, his hand travelling down to her thigh. “Thank you, Y/N.” Y/N looks down at his hand for a split second. “What are you doing?” He furrows his eyebrows, brushing the tip of his fingers on her skin. “Touching you.” She grabs his hand, pushing it between her legs. If he wanted to touch her, he needed to do it in the exact way she needed him to. Also because, well, she's already wet for him and the idea of being touched by him, used while his come still drips down her thighs, is fucking exciting. “Do it correctly, then.” His index finger runs along her folds, focusing on her clit now swollen and starving for attention. Y/N bites her bottom lip, rolling on her back as he scoots closer to her, hovering over her with his body.

”Can you get on your knees for me, pretty girl?” Y/N raises an eyebrow but doesn't question him, immediately assuming the position he asked. She's on her hands and knees, completely exposed to his hungry eyes, and she waits in silence as her heart beats loud and fast in her chest.

She doesn't know what he's planning to do, he could also be ready to stab her or something – but he wouldn't do that, right? If he plans on fingering her while she's on her knees, she's up for it. And if he plans on fucking her from behind, she's up for it either way.

Spencer moves right behind her, his hands settling on her ass as he leaves a kiss right behind her neck which makes her arch her back. Y/N doesn't know if he's already hard again, but she's definitely going to get something and she can't wait for whatever it is. “I'm going to eat you out now.” Y/N widens her eyes, grasping the bed sheets underneath her. He's going down on her after he just came inside of her? Well, she's not going to complain about it – it's actually one of her fantasies, but she wasn't expecting him to be so... interested, particular in bed. That's hot. “Is that okay, pretty girl? I want to hear your voice.” Y/N bites her bottom lip, gasping when he slips a finger inside of her. “Yes, please. Do whatever you want, doctor.” Spencer pushes his finger deep inside of her, slowly curling it to press his finger pad against the indentation and this gesture sends shivers down Y/N's spine. She mewls at his movements, lowering her head and stretching her arms so that she can lay her head on the pillow.

Her thighs are already shaking and she doesn't know if it's the orgasm already building up inside of her, the fact that Spencer Reid is behind her with his index finger deep inside of her or the fact that he's going to eat her out and taste his own come dripping out of her. It's everything and anything at the same time, it's overwhelming. “What are you waiting for?” Spencer doesn't need to answer her as he leans in, diving his tongue deep inside of her. Y/N gasps again, a loud moan crashing against the pillow as she grasps the bed sheet to keep some sort of balance. He squeezes her ass with one hand, using the other to push his fingers now in and out of her with quick movements. The warmth of his tongue against her core and the soft vibrations due to his mans are helping her walk towards the edge quickly, her orgasm now building rapidly inside of her body. Y/N rolls her hips, pressing against his tongue as he sucks on her clit. His fingers are working in and out of her, his tongue then sliding down to her folds to lick all of her arousal. “Yeah, just like that. - she whimpers, biting her bottom lip – Fuck, Spencer. Keep going.” She has never been so excited in her whole life before, the way he's touching her making her feel like she's being sent straight to Heaven and dancing with angels.

It's intense, it's hot and she doesn't want this moment to end. Spencer slaps her ass with his free hand, pulling out his fingers from her core before diving his tongue back in, pushing it deep inside of her. Y/N clenches around his tongue, moving her hips against his face as a choir of moans, begs and soft whimpers leave her mouth each time he sucks on her clit then goes back to licking her. He's so good at this, just perfect. Spencer pulls away for a moment, gently nibbling at the soft skin of her thighs. Y/N tries to turn around, to look at him or something but she sees their reflection on the mirror right beside the bed. And oh, she shouldn't have watched it because now she can't take her eyes off it. Spencer goes back between her legs, his mouth attacking her core all over again and Y/N simply stares at him, noticing the way his mouth works between her legs. His tongue runs along her folds, collecting all of her juice before he pushes his tongue inside of her, making her tremble around him. “You taste so fucking good, pretty girl. I wish I could eat you like this every single day.” That would be a dream, she thinks. Y/N cries out in pleasure, a yelp leaving her mouth again when the second orgasm hits her. She grips the bed sheets with a hand, using the other one to push his head between her legs so that he can't pull away from her as Spencer keeps on eating her out, allowing her to ride her orgasm to the fullest.

Her eyes roll back into her head, her legs shaking as waves of pleasure wash her whole body. Spencer is hard again, her moans and her taste capturing him. He wants to be where his tongue is right now, riding her again and again until he has nothing more to offer her, until their bodies give out.

His lips are now wrapped around her clit, sucking on it as Y/N tries to push him away, probably overly sensitive because of the orgasm he just ripped out of her. But Spencer is not done yet, that was just the beginning. He drags his tongue between her folds, licking her juices as a delicate moan leaves his mouth. But he pulls away anyway, brushing the back of his hand against his chin drenched in her pleasure. Spencer turns to his right, noticing Y/N's eyes watching him from their reflection on the mirror and he smirks, sucking on his index finger, the one that was inside of her a few seconds before. Y/N collapses her on the bed on her back, her chest rising up and down quickly as she tries to catch her own breath before starting to giggle with her legs still shaking. Spencer looks at her for a split second and chuckles, laying down beside her. “You're hard again.” Spencer shrugs, biting his bottom lip. “It'll go away.” But Y/N is quick, shifting between his legs with an offended look on her face. “Don't be silly, fuck my mouth again, doctor. And this time, you will come down my throat.” Who is he to deny such a perfect request? Spencer pushes a pillow behind his back, so that he can have the perfect view on Y/N as soon as her mouth wraps around him, and runs his fingers through her hair. He opens his lips, a low moan leaving them when her tongue swirls around the tip of his cock.

She looks so pretty and so focused, a real sight. Y/N grabs his cock by the base, massaging it slowly as she starts to push it inside of her mouth, sliding it on her tongue and stopping when it hits her throat. She doesn't close her eyes, instead she brings them on the young doctor's face and winks at him, a gesture that has Spencer smirking and moaning at the same time, putty in her hands. Literally. The hold on her hair is already tight, his other hand slightly pushing her head down to take him further as she chokes a bit. But she doesn't pull away, she doesn't stop Spencer because she likes to be treated like this – as wrong as it may be, it's hot. His hips roll towards her face, his cock sliding down her throat as Y/N hollows her cheeks and sucks on it, moaning with her eyes still on his face. Her makeup is completely ruined but Spencer doesn't care because he did that, he ruined it. Plus, he likes smeared makeup due to sex. “You're being so good for me, pretty girl. - he mutters, tugging on her hair so that she can pull away from his cock to breathe – Your mouth is perfect for me.” Y/N gives him a little smile before going back to his cock, wrapping her lips around it and pushing it deep inside of her mouth. She bobs her head back and forth, her fingers massaging all that can't fit in her mouth, and soon Spencer is a writhing mess. “Just like that, pretty girl. Take my cock, yeah.” Her lips are now pressed against the base of him, the burning sensation in her throat almost too intense for her but she doesn't pull back. She doesn't take her eyes off his face, admiring the way his lips part at the sight and the feeling of her tongue swirling around his cock. Spencer pants, he moans, he begs her for more and more until the pleasure gets too much. Y/N wants to tell him how gorgeous he looks right now, fucked out because of the pleasure she's giving him, but she doesn't. No, she desperately wants him to come inside of her mouth or she'll go crazy. He denied her that pleasure before, she's not going to stop until she gets what she wants. And Spencer seems to understand that, because he doesn't hold back. Well, he didn't do it before either. Spencer taps his index under her chin so Y/N looks up at him. “Let me fuck your sinful mouth, pretty girl. Can I? Can I use your mouth?” She replies with a quick nod, not pulling away from him. Spencer then starts to lift his hips, pushing himself further and further into her mouth as Y/N doesn't move anymore.

She's allowing him to use her however he wants and it's so hot, because she thought Spencer was going to be harsher. Instead, he's being actually gentle. And oh, it's so sweet and fucking hot at the same time. She flattens her tongue underneath his cock so that, each time he slides back inside, she rips a moan out of her pretty mouth. Y/N wishes he could see himself right now, because he looks extremely stunning: his lips are slightly parted, his cheeks are red and his eyes are staring at her hungrily, the veins on his neck showing more and more as his chest raises up and down quickly. It's truly a sight. His pace is rhythmic, powerful but never harsh. Y/N slides her hand up his thighs, reaching his torso as she flickers his nipples between her fingers. She has never done it to a guy before but hey, they have nipples too, they can be sensitive too! And apparently they are, because that gesture makes Spencer moan again. “I'm going to think about this every single time I'll teach at another seminar. I'll think about how good you were for me tonight, how perfect you looked with your legs spread for me and my come dripping out of you. - he mutters, his voice nothing but a whisper – And I'll think about you, sucking my cock and allowing me to come in your pretty little mouth.” His thrusts are now irregular, more rapid as his voice trails off. He throws his head back and his right hand presses right behind her head, forcing her to take his cock back inside of her mouth. Y/N can feel his orgasm building up quickly, his whole body starting to shake and stiffen.

Her heart is already beating out of her chest, because she's finally getting what she has wanted the whole night. Spencer comes hard and deep, spilling his warmth right inside of her mouth and Y/N blinks rapidly, tears falling down her face as she hollows her cheeks. His loud moans are echoing inside that room and Y/N hopes no one is listening to them, because those are hers. And no one, apart from her, is allowed to hear him like that for the night. “Choke on my come, whore. - he whispers, his eyes now burning in hers – Swallow it.” Y/N doesn't need to be told twice, swallowing every single drop of his come inside of her mouth. She sucks on him again, massaging his cock with the tip of her fingers before slapping the head of it against her bottom lip. String of spit snapping back against her chin, a smirk appearing on her now puffy lips as she looks at him, innocently. “You taste so fucking good, doctor. - says Y/N, swirling her tongue on the tip of his dick again – Wish I could suck you off every single day.” Spencer leaves another guttural moan out of his lips, trying to catch his breath. Y/N pulls away, licking her bottom lip as she brushes the back of her hand against her chin. There are few drops of his come sliding down her breasts so she collects them with the tip of her index, bringing it to her mouth before licking it clean. And Spencer simply stares at her, too fucked out to say something. Y/N quickly jumps on his lap, her tongue licking his neck before she bites it. They are both covered in little bruises that eventually will fade away. “I'm definitely going to miss your mouth and your cock so much, doctor.”

He nods, his hands resting on her hip. “And I'll miss your pussy, pretty girl. That's why I'll fuck you again tomorrow morning, as a goodbye.” She leans against his chest, closing her eyes. Spencer lifts her chin with the tip of his fingers, his lips covering hers in a kiss so sweet and so gentle it makes her feel butterflies in her stomach. This kiss is completely different than the ones they’ve shared for the past two hours but Y/N doesn’t mind, she needed something like this at the end of almost everything. She can't believe she just sucked him off, she didn't even think he was going to notice her at the bar but he did and he picked her up. Michael will be so proud of her – and even though he's going to ask her many questions about her night with Doctor Reid, Y/N will smile and simply smirk at him.

She's never going to tell him anything, because what happened tonight in Spencer's bedroom, has to remain here. Nothing is going to get out. But what is she going to do after they go separate ways? She’s really going to miss him.

Sure, she has his number and she’s definitely going to write him for the article she needs to write down for her Chief, but what about the rest? What about the sex? He’s really the first guy that has ever treated her like this, made her feel like this. So? Ah. No, that’s already going in the wrong direction. No feelings, Y/N repeats to herself. This was just a simple one night stand – an unforgettable one, sure – but nothing more. “Are you tired?” asks Spencer, his lips pressed on hers again and again. Y/N puts a hand over his cheek, brushing her thumb over his cheekbone. “A little bit.” “Do you want to sleep? - asks the young doctor, wrapping his arms around her body – You should, you have a plane to catch tomorrow.” “And I have to be fucked by you tomorrow morning so I need my beauty sleep. - she whispers, making him chuckle – But yeah, I think I'm going to sleep.” He presses a kiss on her forehead. “Would you like to stay here with me?” Y/N usually doesn't sleep with her one night stands but this time she's going to make an exception. Not because he's pretty or he's more special than the others – well, he is but he doesn't need to know this – but because she’s exhausted. He wore her out and Y/N can’t even lift her legs without feeling her whole body burning. “I was hoping you’d ask.” She pulls away from him, laying on the bed beside him. Spencer quickly lays behind her, a hand resting on her hip as he keeps the other one under his face. He closes his eyes, leaving a soft kiss on her bare shoulder before nuzzling his nose against the back of her neck. Y/N knows they should step down the bed and maybe take a shower, they shouldn’t fall asleep like this – all sweaty, smelling like pure sex – but she’s really tired, and Spencer feels exactly the same because as soon as she turns around, she sees him already asleep. She closes her eyes and soon enough, she’s drifting off to sleep.

“Okay, everybody on the plane is sleeping and you have a whole hour to tell me what the fuck happened last night. – says Michael, taking off his earphones –I can see the hickies on your neck and I’ve never, in 6 years of knowing you, seen you like that. You look like you had the night of your life.” Y/N giggles, her cheeks growing red by the seconds. Images of last night and that morning already overflowing her mind as she tries her best not to let the hormones take over her body again. If she squeezes her thighs and closes her eyes, she can still feel him coming inside of her as he curses in her ear, calling her a “whore” for allowing him to use her body. “I’m not going to tell you anything, Mitch. I promised him I would keep my mouth shut, I’m not going to betray him just because my best friend is curious to know how he is in bed. – she replies, taking a sip of water – But yeah, it was a fun night.” Michael furrows his eyebrows. “Oh, come on! Nothing? Not even a little detail?” Y/N playfully pinches his elbow. “One detail and then you’ll shut up for the whole flight about it, okay?” “Deal.” She taps her index on her chin, humming.

She has so many things she would love to share with Michael; she has spent a whole night and a big part of her morning, almost until lunch, having sex with a man that has left a mark on her. Well, actually, a lot of marks all over her body. But still. Y/N was supposed to have lunch with Spencer. He called the reception and booked a table for them at the restaurant inside of the building, because he wanted to know more about her and her job in Boston; Y/N didn’t mind that, she was actually excited to go downstairs with him and see him with his clothes on, but they never made it downstairs. They were too busy devouring each other, stripping down from their clothes to actually go down to eat. Let’s just say that he ate something else. Y/N smiles at the thought, looking down at her hands before letting out a soft sigh. She misses him already and it hasn’t even been a couple of hours since she has seen him.

And yet, why does she feel like this? It’s just the sex. It has been proven many times that sex creates attachment, even when you know you shouldn’t because it was supposed to be just a one night stand. Y/N blames all the oxytocin released during the amazing sex they’ve had, flooding her post-coital body and making her want to cuddle and connect with him – but same thing happened to him.

He was the one wanting to know her more, he was the one asking her to sleep with him, he was the one who slept with his arms wrapped around her body. And he was definitely the one who asked her to take a shower with him, spending that time kissing her and touching her. Not that she minded, of course. She loved everything he gave her. “You’re smiling like a teenager and you haven’t said a single word. – mutters Michael, winking – Was that guy so powerful in bed he left you speechless?” Y/N giggles, biting her bottom lip. “You have no idea.” Her friend hums, tilting his head. “Wow. Did you get his number? Are you going to call him?” “Yes, I have his number. I don’t think I’m going to call him for sex, even though I’d love to repeat everything that happened last night and today. – she replies, shrugging as another smile appears on her lips at the thought – But he said he wanted to help me with my report, so I’ll definitely call him.” Michael looks around, before leaning closer. “Did you...” Y/N blushes hard. Last week, before they left for New York, Y/N basically told Michael that her ex boyfriend hasn’t always let her finish after sex and now her best friend is not letting go of this topic.

Sure, she knows he’s asking her to see if she’s okay and she’s satisfied. Michael has never made her uncomfortable in any way, sex for them is not a taboo and they like talking about it, especially if it’s about a guy that has sent one of them to another Universe but Y/N is not sure she wants to talk about it. But at the end of the day, she had a very interesting experience and talking about it might help her remember every little detail of her night with him. Well, how can she forget it?

There are bruises all over her body, his handprints on the soft skin of her ass and bite-marks travelling down her neck, reaching her breasts and her belly. Spencer didn’t hold back that morning, probably because he knew he would miss her a lot once she was gone – Y/N didn’t complain, she loved the way he became more aggressive, more possessive towards her. And she loved when he kept whispering “you’ll feel me inside of you for days” because it’s actually kind of true. Each time she shifts on her seat, she can feel her thighs burning because of his marks and a weird feeling at the pit of her stomach. It’s weird to describe, she has never felt this kind of sensation before – and it’s probably because she has never been fucked this hard in her life before Spencer. “I did come, yeah. Many times, especially this morning. – says Y/N, crossing her legs and biting her bottom lip – We skipped lunch to continue our, uh, morning fun. It was sweet.” Michael smirks, noticing his friend’s cheek getting red. “Oh, I see. He was hungry for something else, I get it.” Y/N giggles at his words, blushing even more. “It was... intense. He’s just... wow. I can’t even find a word to describe him. You saw him, right? Well, he shifts completely in the bedroom. He’s like a whole different person but still himself, you know? I don’t even know if this makes sense.” Her friend nods, taking a sip of water. “No no, I get it. It makes sense, it’s happened to me many times.” “I’m going to have a difficult time finding someone else as good as him. – she mutters a soft sigh leaving her lips again – Why was it so unforgettable?” Michael sighs loudly, tilting his head. “I don’t know, love. But I’m glad it was. I’m so happy for you but you know what I’m going to say now, don’t you?” She rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “Yes so say it, but make it quick.” He clasps his hands together, turning to look at her. He clears his throat before inhaling deeply. “I told you so! I told you so, I knew he was interested. That phone number he gave you is not only because of your paper. – says Michael, giggling – I was right, as always.” Y/N laughs along with him, playfully pinching his elbow again. “Shut up. That was just a one time thing, it’s not like we’re going to see each other every month to have sex.”

Her friend wrinkles his nose. “No, but you could do it. You could ask him to come to Boston for a quick lesson to our colleagues, and, well... a private lesson for you.”

“I said “make it quick”, and yet you’re still talking. That’s enough. – she replies, closing her eyes as she relaxes against her seat – But asking him to come to Boston might be a good idea, I’m sure Christina would be over the moon.” Michael shrugs, yawning with a hand covering his mouth. “Can you blame her? She worked with him a couple of years ago when she was still in Seattle and basically fell in love.” Y/N lets out a soft sigh, smiling. “He’s charming, I’m not surprised she liked him that much.” “But he liked you more, since he took you to his bedroom. – her friend replies, playfully shrugging against her own shoulder – I’m happy for you, you needed to get laid!” She puts a hand on his elbow, rolling her eyes. “Thank you for your concern about my sex life, now can I take a nap or do you want to bother me?” Michael shakes his head, smiling at her before putting his earphones back on. Y/N leans against his shoulder, using her own sweater as a blanket, and tries to sleep before the airplane lands. As much as she has missed her own apartment, with all of her stuff and her own food, she knows she’s going to miss New York. Not the city, thought, just the memories she has left there – and all the amazing sex she had. It’s funny, she didn’t even want to go to New York; Christina was the one who pushed her, convincing her to meet Doctor Spencer Reid for his seminar because Y/N was terrified. Well, not terrified.

Intimidated is the correct word. She knew who Spencer Reid was, she knew what happened to him and all those stories around him – from his dead girlfriend to his mentor dying. His team has been through thick and thin but they are probably the most known and best efficient team the Bureau has ever had – or at least, that’s what Christina has told Y/N, and she has been in the business for a very long time. Even before Y/N was born. So that’s why Y/N was so intimidated by him. A man like Spencer Reid, who has worked on a lot of tough cases. How can she be compared to him? Is she worthy enough to talk to him? Well, she was. And she was also worthy of having him between her legs with his mouth all over her body. At the end of the day, attraction doesn’t have much to do with their jobs. Y/N didn’t have sex with him because he’s one of the best profilers in the whole country. No, she had sex with him because he’s terribly handsome, extremely smart, gorgeous beyond any limit and interesting under every little circumstance. Before Y/N left his bedroom to go pack her stuff, Spencer grabbed her by the face and kissed her with such passion she was left breathless.

She knew, in that exact moment, that she was already whipped for that man and would have had a hard time forgetting everything they had done together that night. Y/N wants to send him an email tonight, just to tell him that she’s quite sore and her thighs are burning because of his marks all over her skin, but she can’t do that. She doesn’t want to sound too desperate and contacting him only after a few hours, would make her look really bad – or very interested.

And as much as she’s interested in sleeping with him again – can you blame her? – Y/N doesn’t want to make a bad impression on him, it would be too awkward. At the same time, Y/N has to finish that paper as soon as possible. Maybe she’ll wait a day or two, but not more than that or Christina will metaphorically kick her ass for not publishing anything sooner.

And if Spencer Reid thinks she’s desperate, well, that’s on him. Not her. She has a job to do, she can’t do that because she’s scared of his opinion! Right? Still, she admires him and she wants his respect. “Oh God.” Michael opens his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows. “What? What’s up?” Y/N turns to look at him. “He thinks I’m an easy girl.” “What are you talking about?” The young woman covers her face with her hands. “Spencer. He must think I’m an easy and shallow girl because we met on Friday and we were in his bed by Saturday. We didn’t even talk that much before we...” Michael grabs her hand, noticing her fingers shaking. “Hey, calm down. Why would you think that? Wasn’t he the one who asked you to keep him company in his bedroom? He invited you there, didn’t he?” Y/N nods, biting her bottom lip. “Yeah but... I accepted.” “So what? You’re attracted to him, there’s nothing wrong with that. – her friend explains, shrugging – He’s attracted to you too, that’s why he asked you to go over to his room. You’re not shallow because you had sex with him, who said that you are?” “No one said that, I think that. – she replies, huffing loudly – Fuck, I shouldn’t have done that. He’s not going to respect me if he thinks that I’m easy.” Michael shakes his head, frowning at her words. “Y/N, that’s not true. Do you realize that there’s this stigma about sex and sexualities? If you want to have sex with a man just because you’re attracted to him, you should because there’s nothing wrong with that. You were comfortable enough with him to have sex. And he’s going to respect you because you said it yourself: he’s not a bad person.” Y/N stares at her friend for a couple of seconds, pondering his words. Maybe he’s right, maybe she’s just over-reacting and basically breaking down because all the stigma that has always followed her sex life; the fact that she’s worrying about her being considered an easy girl for simply having sex with a man, shows you how manipulative and disgusting these concepts are. “But what if...” “No. You weren’t under any obligation to keep your sexuality on lockdown. – says Michael, letting her hand go and crossing his arms to his chest – We’re in 2020, not in 1800. Women can have sex with whoever they want if they are in the mood for that, do you understand me? You should know that better than me, you were the one talking to me the stigma on women’s heads for wanting a natural thing called sex.” Y/N lets out a soft sigh, a smile appearing on his lips. He’s definitely right, she’s just freaking out because she’s an over-thinker and needs to find a way to not call him – because she knows that if he does, she’s going to be more into him than she should.

And Michael is right, this idea that women are considered “easy” because they want to have sex with a man is such a sexist, patriarchal way of thinking that unfortunately affects everyone. Especially women. “You remember our conversation about the taboos of women’s sex life.” Michael nods, smiling at her. “How can I forget that?” Y/N leans her head on his shoulder. ““There is a lot of guilt and shame involved while or before doing anything unaccepted, like having sex with a man you like or work hard to get the job of your dreams.”“ “And you told me that the whole concept of virginity was just a patriarchal construct, which I now completely agree with. But see? We can apply this to your own words: women are shamed for having sex and men are rewarded, because some people can’t stop blaming women for acting the way those women want. – says Michael, tapping his index on the back of her hand – You shouldn’t consider yourself easy because you had sex with a man. You wanted to have sex with him, you wanted to spend the night with him and he wanted the same. Why wouldn’t he respect you? Just because you fell on your knees for him? Spencer Reid is not that kind of man. Didn’t he also write that article about misogynistic killers?” Y/N nods, looking out of the window. “You’re right. I feel like an idiot now.” “You should, Y/N, you should! Next time you say something like this, I’m going to leave you at home. – says her friend, pressing a kiss on her forehead – But seriously, you’re not an easy girl nor shallow. You’re just a person who had sex with another person. I did it too, do you see me complaining?” She shakes her head, smiling softly at him. “No, you don’t. But you’re also a man.” “True, but you’re also a feminist. And as a feminist, you shouldn’t compare yourself like this; I know this is just pure internalized misogyny but still, you have to learn how to recognize it and say “screw you”, while maybe actually screwing Doctor Reid again. – says Michael, making her giggle – And you should feel the same way that I do: satisfied, happy and definitely not ready to go back to work tomorrow morning.” Y/N leans in, giving a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m so glad I had that conversation and this one with you.” Michael smiles again, holding her hand in his. “Now relax, okay? I’m sure Reid will find a way to contact you first.” “Why do you think that?” He shrugs, closing his eyes again. “I saw him kissing you before you left. He watched you walk away as if a part of his heart broke.” Y/N tries not to laugh. “Come on. Now you’re making fun of me.”

“No, I’m not! I’m serious! – Michael pinches her arm – I think he likes you. Even though you’ve been with him just for one night, and had sex for the whole time, he’s definitely interested.” The young woman rolls her eyes, chuckling. “Okay, I believe you. I’ll call him tomorrow, okay? First thing in the morning, I promise.” Her friend shrugs, turning the music on again. “I bet you’re going to get an e-mail from him before you can call him.” Y/N decides not to reply to him because there’s nothing else to say. She doesn’t agree with him, Spencer is not interested in her brain or her job; he’s just terribly attracted to her because of the night they’ve spent together. She doesn’t blame him because she feels in the exact same way: they had incredible sex, he’s extremely sexy and knows how to move in bed, but... There’s much more of Spencer Reid Y/N would love to discover. So when Y/N gets home safely after the flight, and after Michael gives her the usual speech “call me if you need anything, don’t forget to lock the door before you go to sleep”, she turns her computer on.

Even though she has slept for almost eight hours in Spencer’s arms, she feels a little bit too tired but she can’t sleep. No, she has to write down all of her notes before actually going to bed and sleep. She needs to work on her article, she has to publish it before the end of next week. Y/N turns on the lights in her living room, sitting on her couch with her computer on her thighs, and types her password back in as her phone starts to ring. She grabs it, noticing that Michael is calling her, so she brings it to her ear. “Mitch? Are you okay?” “Yeah, I came home a couple of minutes ago and Christina just called me. – says Michael, a loud thud heard in the background of his call – She told me that we can take another day off tomorrow.” Y/N takes a deep breath, nodding. “Fuck, I’m so relieved. Thank you, that’s wonderful news.” Michael laughs. “Get some rest from your sin-to-win weekend, doll.” Y/N hangs up the call a few seconds after, leaving her phone on the couch beside her as she opens her personal mail. She’s going to sleep for the whole morning and enjoy a decent lunch all by herself, soon followed by a full-immersion afternoon in her own article about the Killer Clown. It’s crazy. John Wayne Gacy pushed Y/N towards Spencer. How cool is that?

A serial killer introduced them to each other and led to an amazing night of sex, isn’t it a little bit funny? She has never thought she’d find the love of her sex – sexually, she means – at a seminar in a different city. And she didn’t think it was going to be one of the best profilers in the whole country! Funny. Crazy and absolutely funny. Y/N logs in and notices an e-mail from Christina, with the same exact words Michael told her. “Take the whole day off tomorrow, you’ll explain everything to me on Tuesday but don’t be late. Can’t wait to read your notes!” And immediately after, another e-mail from her pops up. “Doctor Reid asked me for your personal e-mail address, I gave it to him! Hope you don’t mind.” Y/N widens her eyes. “What?!”

Why in the world would Spencer Reid write to Christina to ask her for Y/N’s e-mail? She remembers Michael’s words: “He’s definitely interested”. What if he’s right? Y/N shakes her head, it can’t be possible. It was just sex, a simple but unforgettable one night stand – and Y/N needs to stop thinking about it, it’s not healthy and it would simply build her hopes up, something she can’t do. No.

“Y/N? Oh, you miss me already!” “No, you idiot, Christina sent me an email and told me Spencer asked for my personal address.” Michael, on the other side of the phone, starts laughing as if he has heard the most amazing joke on Earth. Y/N simply stands there, waiting for his laughing fit to end. But she finds it funny too, because of course something like this would happen if Michael said Spencer was interested. Of course, once again, her best friend was right about something. But why didn’t Spencer say anything? Why did he ask her for her number? Maybe he thought she wasn’t as interested as he was, or maybe he didn’t want to sound too desperate so he thought that by asking her Chief about her professional e-mail he would’ve been more slick. Or something. “Can I say it again?” “No, you cannot. This time, I’m talking. And asking you something because this has never happened to me before. – says Y/N, staring at her computer – What the fuck?” Michael laughs again, this time making her chuckle. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” She lets out a huge sigh, a smile spreading over her lips. “Not going to lie, yes. Should I wait for his e-mail or contact him first? I have his address.” “Text him now. Or call him. You have his phone number, right? – asks Michael – Wait, no. His office number, or whatever. Try and call him.” Y/N hums, looking at the time on her clock. “I don’t think he’s already home. He had a plane to catch at 6, so I think it’s better if I wait until tomorrow. Or tonight. Or something.” “Oh right, he’s probably not in Quantico yet. – he replies, another thud heard on the other side of the phone – Fuck, sorry. I dropped my computer, wait.” The younger woman closes her own computer, leaving it on the table in front of her TV, and she lays down on the couch with her eyes closed. Now she knows she won’t be able to concentrate until she has contacted Spencer, so she probably will try to call him on his phone – hoping that he brought it with him. But if he answers, what is she going to tell him? “Poor computer. But don’t worry, I have nothing else to say. I’ll call you if something happens.” “Oh, I can’t wait. And please, don’t freak yourself out. – says Michael – I know you.” Y/N wrinkles her nose, huffing. “I won’t. Thank you.” There are a few seconds of silence, Y/N deep in her thoughts. He likes her? Doctor Reid? “Do you think sex can make people fall in love?” Michael hums. “Maybe. Did you guys also talk after?” “Yeah. He asked me about my job, if I thought about sending an application for the BAU because there’s a place available there. – says Y/N, biting her bottom lip – I lied. I told him that I’m not interested because I like Boston.” “But you do, you like Boston. – he mutters – Wait.” She sighs, closing her eyes. “I did send an application, Mitch. I told you.” He stays silent for a few seconds.”Oh. Yeah, last month.” “I don’t know, I think I’m going to take away my request. – says Y/N, rolling on her side – It would be too weird, you know? I don’t want him to think that I applied for that job just because of him. I didn’t.” “Well, just wait. If you get that job, you should go. You’ve always wanted to work with them, so it would be great for you. – says Michael, interrupting her thoughts – And if you end up working with him, you should just tell him. You wouldn’t join the BAU for him.” Y/N doesn’t want to think about that, she knows she won’t get the job. Also, she sent that application a month ago and she still hasn’t gotten a response so it’s pretty obvious that she’s stuck in Boston. Not that she minds, of course. She loves Boston, she loves Christina and Michael, she loves her job but... “Yeah... Thank you, Michael. For your support, I mean.” “Anytime, doll. I have to go now, my mother is going to be here any minute and I promised her we would have dinner together. – says Michael – Call me if you have any news, okay?” After she hangs up the call, Y/N drifts off to sleep. She doesn’t want to think about that now.

8 months later. It’s 9 in the morning, Emily is already sitting in her office talking to JJ about the case they just finished a week before, and the door is locked. People are starting to come in for their morning shift, the floor already filled with colleagues walking back and forth with piles of papers, documents and sheets to revise for something. Spencer sits behind his desk, enjoying his morning cup of coffee with Garcia and Tara. The whole BAU team was called in early, Spencer thought it was for a case but when he arrived at the building and found Emily outside, he found out that there wasn’t any new case to start working on. Not that he minded, of course. It’s nice sometimes to know that there are no serial killers on a killing spree, or people found dead in alleys behind bars or malls, but still. He just finished working a particularly tough case that involved children kidnappings and the black market, which was already difficult to begin with. But he managed to help with the case, saving lives and all of that. Spencer loves his job, he loves his colleagues more than anything else but he misses teaching at students, or travelling around the country to spread his knowledge at seminars. It has been eight months since he has been in New York, six months and five days since he spoke to that smart woman who captured his attention at his seminar about Psychopathy and Sociopathy – which is weird, because he is not usually that interested in the participants themselves. But oh, that woman. That thunder of a woman. When he came back, JJ and Matthew noticed that there was something weird going on with Spencer but they managed to keep their mouth shut until they couldn’t. Spencer would always look at his phone during cases, answering emails and smiling at his computer whenever he had the chance to use it, so it was normal that they started asking questions. Spencer never revealed anything about her identity, he simply told his colleagues that he helped a person with their article about a serial killer and that was it. He couldn’t tell them that he met this person, liked her a lot, invited her to his bedroom and spent a whole night – and a whole morning, because he couldn’t stop thinking about the morning after – having sex with her. And now he misses her more than he should. Matthew and David teased him a lot about this “mysterious person”, especially because they noticed he was much chirpier and much happier ever since he came back to New York. They probably noticed the marks on his neck, even though Spencer tried to hide them with his shirts and his ties, but apparently that didn’t work out well. During one of their usual nights out, Spencer spilled his secret to Garcia. “I can’t tell you her name because it’s private but she was so beautiful, Pen. Gorgeous, smart, interesting, fun, just perfect.” Garcia tried her best to get more information about this woman just to make him happier, to reach her and bring her to Quantico in order for Spencer to get a date from her, but Spencer had already a way to contact her. Her phone number and her e-mail. Still, Y/N kept it professional. She didn’t go out of her way, she never brought up their night/morning together even though Spencer was dying to ask her something about it, maybe telling her that he missed her and he would love to see her again. It was difficult. Very difficult for both of them, but he didn’t know she felt the same. Spencer read her paper, congratulated her, and even sent her a bouquet of flowers to her office in Boston – he has worked with Christina years before, so he knew who he could contact. Y/N sent her a simple e-mail: “Thank you for the flowers, Doctor Reid. Sunflowers are my favourite. You remind me of one.” That response made his heart flutter. And after that, he stopped sending her e-mails but he kept track of her articles. She usually wrote about the most famous criminals in US history, focusing on different parts of the investigations, especially the psychological sides of each criminal and it was actually very interesting.

Y/N is a smart woman, a person that Spencer would love to work with – which is also why he talked to Prentiss about maybe hiring her, or at least reading her CV or something. Emily has always shut him off, telling him that if she was interested, she had to send an application and not ask him for help –which is why he stopped asking, not wanting to be too annoying.

Y/N would’ve been the perfect person to fit the position needed at the BAU. “Reid?” Spencer turns around, noticing Emily standing in front of her own office. “Yeah?” “Bullpen in five minutes, please.” He quickly nods, standing up from his desk. He takes a sip of his coffee and heads to the bathroom, soon followed by Matthew. Without talking, Spencer walks inside of the bathroom and stops in front of a mirror to fix his hair before throwing his empty coffee cup inside the trashcan. Once he’s done, Spencer heads out of the bathroom and climbs up the stairs when a woman enters in the bullpen right before him. He furrows his eyebrows, that body extremely familiar to him but maybe it’s just an hallucination – or the fact that he misses Y/N more than he should’ve, and he’s actually thinking about her right now. He has had more dreams involving her than anyone else before. It was weird. But maybe it was just his body trying to tell him to get back at her, asking her out through email or maybe just showing up to Boston in the middle of next month. He never did, too scared that he would freak out Y/N and annoy her, but he would’ve loved to surprise her. JJ and Garcia are already inside the bullpen, talking about a possible case in Nevada. Matthew, David and Luke follow Tara. Spencer is the last one joining the team inside the bullpen, but when he does, and his eyes end up on the woman beside Emily, he almost chokes. He recognizes those beautiful eyes. And he definitely remembers those long legs, those heels. “Guys, I wanted to introduce you to our newbie, Agent Y/N Y/L/N.” Y/N turns to look at Spencer, a little grin spreading on her lips. He simply stares at her, too surprised to even let a word roll of his tongue, and he can feel his heart almost drop in his chest. What is she doing here? And when did she arrive? Why did she lie to him? She sent an application to work for the BAU and now she’s here, she has passed all of her tests and she’s... Matthew puts a hand over his shoulder. “You okay?” Spencer quickly nods, biting his bottom lip. He wants to scream, literally. He wants to grab Y/N’s hand and push her somewhere, asking her what the fuck is she doing there but he knows that she’s in Quantico to work. Fuck, she’s going to work with him. Why didn’t she tell him? Maybe she wanted to wait until it was official. Or maybe she forgot about him? No, that’s not possible. She wouldn’t forget about it, they talked until six months before. So? “She will join us for the next case so please, make sure to introduce yourself to her. – says Prentiss, moving her eyes onto every single person in the bullpen – Y/N, welcome to our team.” Spencer is overwhelmed right now, he can’t even think straight. And before he can open his mouth to say something to Prentiss or anyone else, Y/N walks up to him with a smirk now on her face and her arms crossed on her chest. Spencer swallows, watching her closely. “Hello Doctor Reid, did you miss me?” He’s fucked.

TAG LIST: @bookishspencer @allexthakatt @calm-and-doctor @reidswhoree

Hello my beautiful people, I’m back with probably the hottest smutty one shot I’ve ever created in my whole life. I want to be honest, this and Talk some sense to me were my favourite to write. I had so much fun and I hope you like them as much as I do. Please, let me know what you think! And if you want to be added/removed to my tag-list, send me a message. A big special thank you to my beautiful friend @pinkcoatz for editing my stuff. I love you so much.

Love you all. x

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid hot #spencer reid cute #criminal minds one shot #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x oc

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maddiwrites · 3 years

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The Hybrid (I)

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: The Pogues rekindle their friendship with their old childhood best friend and JJ’s first crush, Y/N. Old feelings resurface for JJ and Y/N, possibly leading to a summer neither one of them could ever forget. Due to past trauma, Y/N is reluctant to let anyone into her heart, but JJ never backs down from a challenge, even if he knows it will come back to haunt him in the end.

Note: Thank you for being patient with me as I slowly write this series. I had this idea a long time ago and I’m not finding motivation to write it but the inspiration comes and go. I smile with every comment that is left on my fics and I’m so grateful for this community. Thank you for letting me pursue my creative writing without judgement. Love you guys! (Also, yes. If you didn’t see my last note, I based YN’s family off of the Gilmore Girls characters. That’s who I picture as them.)

Word Count: 8k

Masterlist Prologue

You wake up to someone falling on your bed next to you with a dramatic sigh. Knowing exactly who it is, you choose to ignore her and try getting back to the dreamless sleep you were peacefully having before you woke up.

That is, until she sighs again.

You flip onto your back and stare up at your ceiling fan that’s quickly spinning above you. “What, Rory?”

“How did it go with Andre and that boy?”

You look at her with one brow raised. “You woke me up to hear about Andre’s love life? That hardly sounds like you. You don’t care about high school drama or hookups.”

“You’re right,” Rory says. “But I thought I would ease you into what I actually need to tell you.”

You turn on right side and look at your sister confused. “What?”

She sighs. “The cafe’s basement flooded last night. Mom needs us there to help her clean up and take inventory on what’s salvageable.”

You turn back on you backside and close your eyes, exhaling a deep sigh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Unfortunately not,” Rory says and pats you twice on your covered thigh as she sits up. “Come on. I made you pre-cafe coffee. It’s sitting in the kitchen.”

You throw your sheets off of you and trudge to the bathroom to brush your teeth and clean your face. It’s about 8 a.m. At least you were able to get about six hours of sleep.

Last night, it was hard to let your brain rest to fall asleep. You kept tossing and turning, thinking about the blonde Pogue who walked you home. You missed how easy it was to talk to someone who you felt truly knew you. Your banter rolled off your tongue easily and you never had to worry about offending him because you knew him like the back of your hand. You knew what he could take and what he couldn't.

Talking to him brought back childhood memories you had hidden deep in your mind. How JJ would constantly poke you until you ripped into a smile on days that were grey. How you used to steal John B’s bandanas until he was chasing you around his house to get them back. How you would draw a mustache and a unibrow on Pope’s face when he fell asleep by the water.

Those days felt like they were decades ago. So far away, you didn’t know if you’d be able to reach for them again. If it was even possible to get back.

You thought about texting him. Thanks for walking me back. We should all get together soon! You had written out. But then you deleted the whole message, telling yourself it was because you didn’t know if he even had the same number. But deep down, you were just afraid of the rejection.

Its been about three years since the four of you had been together in one place. You don’t know what they’ve been through or if they’ve changed. They for sure as hell don’t know what you’ve been through. You don’t know if they're dynamic has changed. Clearly you and JJ can still joke with each other but what about John B and Pope? You heard about John B’s father disappearing at sea, most people believing he’s dead, but John B holding onto hope that’s he’s alive. You always thought about calling him to reach out and offer your condolences. But for the same reason you didn’t text JJ, you never called. It didn’t feel like your place. They had Kie for that now. A little part of you felt jealous of her, like she had replaced you and any memory of you. She seemed nice, but she wasn’t you.

“Ready?” Rory pops her head in to your room as you slip on a cropped plain white zip up jacket over your cropped black tank.

“As I’ll ever be,” You say and snag the car keys out of her hands. “Don’t even think about it. I’m driving.”

Rory rolls her eyes. “I want to get there safely.”

“And I want to get there quickly.”

“Fine. But we’re taking my car. It actually has doors.”

For your sixteenth birthday, your grandparents gifted both you and Rory your own individual cars and even let you pick them out. Rory chose a black 2020 Honda Civic for it’s safety features and reputation for longevity as if she was planning on handing it down to her future kids. And you picked out a white 2020 Jeep Wrangler with a hard top that pops off along with the doors for a very open and thrilling ride. Everyone but you called it a death trap, but you found it to be the perfect summer car.

You park Rory’s boring Honda Civic in the back of the cafe in a lot used specifically for employees. The cafe is already booming with teens and families, waiting for their morning coffees and fresh pastries. Kids your age are running around behind the counter with sweat dripping down their brow bone to get everyone’s orders out in a timely manner.

In the back of the store, your mom walks up the steps from the basement with two large trash bags and immediately notices the two of you. “Oh good. You’re here. Rory, help the girls behind the counter. The dishwasher’s broken and poor Hailey is hand washing everything. Y/N, come with me downstairs.”

“Why does Rory get the fun job?” You grumble and follow your mom back downstairs after she tosses the two trash bags.

“Because she’s actually nice to the customers.”

“Treat others how you would like to be treated. Isn’t that what everyone always says?” You smirk. You never agreed with the phrase ‘the customer is always right.’ It’s complete bullshit and being the employee shouldn’t mean letting yourself getting verbally abused by a ‘Karen’ on the other side of the counter.

The basement is used for the cafe’s storage, lined with wooden shelves Steve put together that hold to go cups, back up espresso machines, boxes of coffee and food and ingredients, etc. Now all the boxes are dark and sopping, creating puddles on the concrete floor.

“Oh my god. Mom. How did this happen?”

“Jenky water pipe busted in the middle of the night,” Steve walks down the stairs and passes your mom a knowing look. It didn’t surprise you that he was here. He’s the jack of all trades. Owns his own automotive shop, builds a lot of his own furniture, actually cooks a decent meal, and has the same outlook on customer service as you do. He was probably your mom’s first call. “Talked to the plumber. They can’t get here until at least noon.”

“Noon? We’ll be underwater by noon. I might as well turn all my employees into a swim team,” Your mom says.

Steve shakes his head. “I was able to hold the leak until he gets here. You should be fine.”

Steve was the first person that actually helped your mother out when's she moved to the Cut. Six months pregnant, she pushed her car into his automotive shop after it broke down on the side of the road. Their banter was similar to the one you and JJ have. He helped save your mom money by building yours and Rory’s cribs, changing table, and dressers. And ever since, the two of them had been connected by the hip, although they both refuse to admit it. You think the pair are just trying to deny the love they clearly share for each other. And you think the main reason for that is because of the incident four years ago with your mom’s ex boyfriend. No thanks to you.

“Look at you constantly building your resume,” You smirk at him.

Steve scoffs. “It’s more than what you’re doing.”

You roll your eyes. Steve is the closest thing you have to a father. He practically helped raise you with your mom. He’s the one you turn to whenever a fight with your mom goes too far, which isn't too often but it happens. He usually lets you stay at his house for the night to let you cool off. But he’ll never sugar coat his advice when it comes time for him to give it. Even if you don’t ask for it. He knows growing up with Rory has been challenging. She was clearly your mom’s favorite, or at least that’s what you thought. She has a 4.0 GPA with a realistic dream to get into Brown University and study journalism. She played by every rule, never got into trouble, and spent most of her free nights getting ahead of her school work or staying late at the cafe with an open book from the library across the street. She was an absolute angel to everyone else, making you look like her evil twin.

You glare at him before turning to your mom with crossed arms. “What do you want me to do, Mom?”

“Actually honey. Can you go to Heywards and grab more coffee filters and napkins. The water soaked right through the plastic wrapping on our last box.”

You nod, leaving your mom and Steve to clean up the basement themselves. Before heading out, you sneak behind the counter and make yourself a quick coffee to go.

“Where you going?” Rory asks as she reaches behind you to grab a banana for her customer at the register.

“Heywards to grab a couple things for Mom.”

“Oh. Make sure to grab toilet paper while you’re out. I think we’re almost out of it.”

“Got it.”

Heywards is only a short drive from your mom’s cafe. It’s the closest convenient store that isn’t crazy pricey. It’s where your mom gets all her supplies whenever she runs out of things before shipment gets there.

You use to always come here when you were younger with the boys, each of you, even Pope, stealing a small bag of chips or a candy bar here and there. Little did any of you know, Mr. Heyward caught your thieving hands every time but never said anything.

The bell above the door chimes when you walk into the store. You know this place as well as you know the cafe, finding the toilet paper and coffee filter immediately.

When Mr. Heyward looks up from the counter, his smile grows. He can pick you out of a crowd anywhere, but he hasn’t seen you in a long time. Last time he saw you, you had braces and overgrown bushy brows. Now you had bushed hair and shaved legs.

“Hi. Mr. Heyward,” You grin shyly at him. You don’t know how he’s going to react to see you, unsure of what Pope might have told him about you.

“Little Miss Y/L/N? Is that you?” Heyward smiles widely, pulling your own lips into a wider smile. “I haven’t seen you for a long time.”

“Yeah, I’ve been busy with school and my mom’s cafe...” Both of those things were a lie. You just avoid the Cut to avoid the Pogues.

“How’s the fam?”

“They’re good,” You say as Heyward hands you your bags. “Mom says hello by the way. I’m actually taking these to her store now.”

“Well, don’t be a stranger. We miss your smiling face around her. Anette, too.” Heyward says, mentioning his wife.

“Tell her I said hi.”

“Of course, darling.”

Heyward and Anette always had a special place in their heart for you and Rory. They’re not one for gossip, but they knew a little bit about what your mom’s been through and have heard plenty of stories about your grandparents. They always thought, despite your mom’s background, that you and your sister were raised impressively. Anette always hoped that one day Pope and Rory would get together. Everyone always wanted their child to be with Rory.

As your about to leave the store, the bell chimes again with another customer. Only it’s not another customer. It’s Pope and John B. They don’t see you at first, and you wonder if maybe you can sneak out without them seeing you. But something about that felt wrong. Especially because Heyward would more than likely mention to them that you were here.

Pope sees you first and stops in his tracks. “Y/N?”

“Hey, guys. Long time no see,” You smile at both of them. You bite down on your lip awkwardly when you meet John B’s stare. You don’t know if you should mention anything about his dad’s disappearance. But what would you say? Sorry? What good would that do?

“How’ve you been?” Pope gives you a small side hug, then John B.

You shrug. “You know, living the dream.”

“How’s life as a Hybrid?” John B smirks.

You roll your eyes playfully and groan. “Oh god. Never call me that again.”

You may be considered a Hybrid by everyone else, but you would never put yourself into that category. You grew up a Pogue, the same way everyone else did around you. The only thing tying you to the Kooks are your grandparents.

“Why?” John B smirks. “I wish I was a Hybrid.”

You smirk back. “Maybe you will be one day. I hear you have a Kook of your own for arm candy.”

You saw a faint hint of blush on John B’s cheek at the mention of his girlfriend but you don’t mention it. “Sarah, yeah. She’s not like the other Kooks.”

“I would hope not. Her brother’s a dick.”

“Yeah,” They laugh.

“We miss you, you know.” John B says. Pope looks at you, trying to read your expression. John B’s not wrong. They do all miss you, especially Pope. He felt like you were the only one who really understood him. Of course his other friends are great, but you actually took the time to try and understand his passions. Like forensic science.

“I miss you guys too. It’s been a while.”

“Well, hey. We’re actually all getting together tonight at my place. Nothing big. Just a bonfire and a couple beers. You should stop by,” John B says.

“Yeah,” Pope says, immediately getting hopeful that you’ll show up.

Your smile falters. The invite makes your heart swell and your lungs contract. It’s an invite you’ve been wanting for three years. And now that you have it, you don’t know what to say. It’d be different if it was just the four of you like old times. But now there’s Kie and Sarah and although you have nothing against them, you’re afraid they won’t accept you. The thought of your boys picking them over you terrifies you.

“Okay. Yeah, sure. I’ll try to swing by later.”

Pope smiles wide and looks at his friend to see his reaction. John B grins and nods, almost impressed that you had agreed. But he saw the twitch in your lips when the question was asked.

“Great. I guess we’ll see you later then.”

You nod. “Okay. Bye guys.”

You suck in a deep breath when the fresh air outside of Heyward’s store brushes over you. Your heart thumps wildly with both excitement and nerves when you’re finally able to collect your thoughts. You don’t know what you’ll do tonight, but the possibilities can change your entire summer.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You spent the rest of the day mopping up the cafe’s basement and rearranging the shelves. You smelled of sweat and coffee grounds by the time you were done and dreamt of the shower you would be taking when you got home.

Rory drove you home after the two of you closed up the cafe for the day. Neither of you said much. Rory was exhausted from running around behind the counter and you were too busy thinking about whether you’d go back to the place you used to call your second home.

You took a longer shower than usual, still pondering what your night would be like. Your head was telling you to stay home but your heart pulled you in the direction of the Cut. You yearned to hear about what the future held for Pope, and listen to John B retell stories of when you were kids, and be able to stare into JJ’s bright blue eyes without him noticing.

You changed into a pair of jean shorts and a plain red cropped tank. Rory walks into your room as your brushing out your hair and looks at you as if you lost your mind.

“Are you out of your mind? You can’t wear that,” She says.

You brows scrunch together in confusion. “What are you talking about? I wear shit like this all the time.”

“Not to the Country Club, you don’t.” That’s when it hits you. Today’s been so hectic, you forgot what day it was. “It’s Sunday.”

Sunday dinner at the Country Club is now a weekly commitment forced upon you by your grandparents. Each week, your mom, sister, and you are forced to spend one dinner with your grandma and grandpa. This is basically your mom’s payment back for sending you and Rory to Kook Academy. Only they actually pay for the dinner. It’s usually the longest two hours of your entire week. It’s hard to listen to your grandfather rant about Real Estate and your grandma slyly critique your mother in almost every aspect of her life.

“Shit. I completely forgot,” You say.

“Well, you better change. We’re leaving in about five minutes,” Rory says then plucks a gold necklace from your dresser. “Oh and can I wear this tonight?”

You sigh. “Sure.”

You change into a baby blue wrap around dress and pin your wet hair into a half up half down due. It’s gonna have to work for the limited time you have to get ready. After applying a thin layer of makeup to look the least bit presentable, you meet your mom and sister by the front door.

“Finally,” Your mom says when she sees you.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize it was Sunday.”

“It’s okay, honey. I just don’t think I can handle another late remark from Mom today.” She looks you up and down and grins. “You look great.”

Despite the many fiery fights you and your mom can have, she is also your best friend. It’s kind of like a love hate relationship. Steve says it’s because you’re exactly like your mom - almost like a sixteen year old version of her.

You really hope that isn’t true. You’re not ready to have a kid in two years.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Your grandparents are already sitting at a round table in the corner of the country club by the two tall windows that reach up to the ceiling with a view looking out into the golf course. The best seat in the house for the richest a holes on the island.

“Lorelai,” Your grandmother grins, but you can instantly tell it’s sarcastic. “Did you have to walk here?”

You speak up before your mom could. “Sorry Grandma. It’s my fault we’re late.”

Your grandparents are hard on your mom but easier on you and Rory, especially Rory.

“Well, you’re here now,” Your grandpa says. He’s usually the mediator between your mom and grandma. Although he’s usually sucks at it. “Sit. Sit.”

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, JJ shuffles through his many coworkers with his apron in one hand and a piece of fried calamari from Miss Carol’s appetizer in the other.

“JJ -” She scolds and slaps his hand away from going in for a second piece.

“Good evening Miss Carol,” JJ smirks and makes his way to the area between the kitchen and dining room where most of the servers and bust boys hang out. Some of the boys slap him on the back or shove him by the shoulder, chuckling to themselves. “What’s going on boys? Busy crowd?”

“What are you doing here? You never work Sundays,” His friend, Mitch, says.

Luke Maybank was behind on several bills - worse than it’s ever been. They already shut off their electricity and JJ wanted to make sure the water wouldn’t be next.

But JJ shrugs nonchalantly. “Little extra dough can't hurt.”

“Well, you picked a good day,” Raymond walks up to the blonde, rolling his sleeves. “You got Kook Royalty and their Hybrid offsprings in your section.”

“What?” JJ looks through the small square Plexiglas on the swinging door. He knows exactly where to look and immediately sees you sitting with King and Queen Kook, looking absolutely miserable, pushing around your food with your fork.

“Damn, Maybank. Almost broke your neck - you turned so fast.”

“Shut up, Easterling. I was just seeing how crowded we were,” JJ lied. He really just wanted to see if you were here. And now that he sees you are, he’s a little nervous to do his own damn job.

Raymond Easterling chuckles. “Yeah, I know what you were looking at. But don’t get your hopes up. There’s a reason Kooks call that girl the Heart Sucker. Not even the high and powerful JJ Maybank could get a piece of that.”

The guys around JJ and Raymond chuckle and nod in agreement, hearing the stories of how you’d reject every single guy that’s ever asked you out. Sometimes you’d go on a few dates, trying to push yourself out of your comfort zone, but then things would quickly become too much, and you’d get overwhelmed.

JJ didn’t like the way Raymond talked about you or how the others laughed at your expense. His hands clenched into fists, tempted to throw a punch in Ray’s cocky face. The guy’s just being a jerk because he’s one of the guys that got rejected by you, he thought.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” JJ shakes his head and ties his apron around his waist to distract his hands.

“No?” Raymond challenges him. “You think I’m wrong? You think you could pull the infamous Hybrid over there?”

JJ glances back through the window. You’re looking at your grandma with a clearly forced grin. You’re twirling your hair between your fingers, a habit you picked up when you were little to do when you’re bored. JJ would find you doing that in school all the time.

You’re gorgeous, he thought. It’s no wonder that almost every guy on this island has tried to make a pass on you, including JJ himself, but his remarks always come off as playful, afraid of actually telling you how he feels about you. His fantasies about you went further than just getting you between the sheets. He could picture getting married, having children, and growing old together. Years ago, the two of you would talk about your future. Neither one of you cared about money or fancy jobs. All you wanted was to be free - of this island, of each other’s families, of responsibilities placed on you from birth. You hold the same values as JJ, and he’s never met another person like you.

But JJ has a hard exterior. No one other than his best friends know his true heart, and he wasn’t going to let someone like Raymond Easterling find out about his soft spot for you. He would never hear the end of it.

JJ looks at you one last time. You’re talking to Rory, your face in his direction. This time you’re smiling, probably discussing something other than your grandparent’s expectations of you. He’d kill to see that smile every single day.

What’s the worst that could happen? You reject him? Yeah, that might kill JJ inside, but maybe you’d still be his friend, or continue to be acquaintances like you are now. As long as he gets to see you, he’d be okay. There was always the future. But who knows? Maybe you’d say yes? He’ll never know unless he tries. Right?

JJ fakes the same cocky grin that Raymond wears. “I haven’t failed yet.”

The guys around him whistle and shake their heads with smiles.

“All right, Maybank. Let’s make a bet. I’ll give you one hundred dollars to get Y/N Y/L/N in the sack by the fourth of July.”

JJ scoffs. “You like giving away free money?” He ignored his racing heart at the thought of being that intimate with you.

Raymond nods. “Okay. Let’s put your money where your mouth is. Get her to say ‘I love you’ by the end of the season and I’ll raise you an extra hundred and cover all your dishwasher shifts in September.”

JJ raises his brows with surprise. No one offers to take the dishwashing shift. Sometimes the boys are pulled back there when the kitchen is short staffed and it’s easily one of the worst jobs at the Club.

This bet was almost too good of an opportunity to pass up. “Deal.” JJ says.

The boys shake hands on it and the other guys whisper to each other about how intrigued they are to see this play out.

JJ wipes his sweaty palms against his apron and pushes the door open to approach your table, hoping he can hear you over his thudding heart.

“Good evening folks. May I take those empty plates out of your way?”

You look up at the voice you know so well and a smile raises on your lips. JJ meets your eyes and he winks at you, splattering your heart in flutters.

“Please.” Your grandmother pushes her plate away from her, stuffed with filet and red wine.

“JJ,” Your mom grins up at him. Growing up, your mom always had a soft spot for the blonde Pogue. She’s heard the stories about his father, mostly from Steve, who actually grew up with Luke Maybank, his cousin. As a child, he was sent to live with Luke Maybank and his single father. Lets just say, he’s not surprised by the way Luke turned out. “Look at you. You’re all grown up now. Last time I saw you, Y/N was still pushing your head in the sand for stealing her popsicle.”

“Yeah. I quickly learned no one should mess with Y/N and her food,” JJ says.

“Never stopped you though,” You smirk at him.

“Lorelai. Who is this?” Your grandma asks, disregarding the boy himself.

“Mom,” Lorelai gives her mom a warning look. “This is JJ Maybank. He went to school with Y/N and Rory.” Lorelai knew to play it safe with her wording. She didn’t know where you and JJ stood. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him and she knew better than to ask.

“Nice to meet you,” JJ says politely. “I’d shake your hand but mine are kinda full.” He motions to the plates in his hand.

“That’s quite all right.” Your grandma’s smile is so forced, it makes you uncomfortable.

“I won’t hold you up. Has your server been around with the dessert menu?” JJ looks at you. “We have chocolate cake tonight.”

Heat rushes up your neck. Not because of the cake itself but because JJ remembered your favorite dessert. Chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chocolate sprinkles. It was safe to save you were a choco-holic. The boys use to make it for you every year for your birthday. It usually came out burnt, none of them ever remembering how to properly make it. But it was all you needed to feel like a very special girl.

“Your favorite,” Rory elbows you.

Your grandma cringes. “Sounds like diabetes on a plate.”

“Mom,” Lorelai scolds.

“What?” She asks, not understanding the concept of a filter.

Now heat rushes to your cheeks for an entire different reason. “He did. We’re not doing dessert tonight. Thank you, though.”

JJ nods but feels disappointed by the way your face flinched at your grandmother’s comment.

“My pleasure,” He says like he was taught to do and excuses himself to drop the plates off in the back before he can say anything else that would probably get him fired.

Your mom looks at your with raised brows. “He’s cute, honey.”

“Lorelai, please. He’s the busboy,” Your grandma says.

“He’s a good kid, Mom.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” You stand up. “I have to use the restroom.”

Rory gives you a knowing grin as you walk away from the table. When you walk into the hallway between the dining area and the front lobby, you immediately feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Sometimes just the presence of your grandparents and their pompous judgements can be suffocating. You do your best to bite your tongue around them, excusing yourself when you feel yourself getting heated.

JJ catches a glimpse of your light blue dress out of the corner of his eye when he rounds the corner to collect the plates off a different table. He looks over his shoulder at Raymond, who’s staring at the blonde watching you, and winks.

“Hey, Y/N,” JJ says, walking up to you.

You look up from your phone and immediately smile. “Hey. I was actually hoping I’d catch you out here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You nervously tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry about my grandmother. She can be...”

JJ shakes his head. “Hey. It’s okay. I work for Kooks almost every single day. I’m use to it.”

You sigh. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Don’t apologize for something you can’t control,” JJ says. “Besides, that’s probably the nicest she’s ever been to me.”

You hide your face in your hands. “Stop. You’re making it worse.”

JJ laughs and takes your wrists in his hands, slowly pulling them away from your face. Your eyes shoot up to his, immediately feeling a tingling feeling run through your skin, straight to your heart.

“It’s okay. I promise,” He says softly. His voice is so sincere that you have no other option but to believe him. It almost makes your feel guiltier, wondering how much bullshit he’s been through with ungrateful Kooks that it’s so easy for him to forgive and forget.

“Okay,” Your voice is a whisper, taken off guard by how close he is to you and how he still hasn't let go of your hands.

In that same moment, JJ realizes he’s still holding you and gently removes his hands. He coughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck, where sweat begins to bubble. Why is he so nervous?

“So um...” You say, suddenly feeling nervous too. “You going to John B’s tonight?”

JJ’s eyes shoot up in surprise. How did you know that? “Yeah. I’m heading over there after work.”

“I saw him and Pope at Heywards earlier today and they invited me over. I wasn’t sure if I should come or not.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Because it’s different now, you wanted to say. But you didn’t because you feel like the elephant in the room would only grow. And you didn’t want to admit you were nervous to meet Kie and Sarah outside of school.

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

“You should definitely come. The boys miss you.”

You pretend like a little piece of your heart didn’t just break when JJ didn’t say ‘we.’

“What time do you get off of work?”

“Around 9ish.”

You nod. “I can pick you up if you’d like and we could go together?”

Your heart races after you suggest it. What if he says no? Why were you feeling this way? This is the same kid you use to make fun of for pouring milk into his bowl before his cereal.

“Yeah. That’d be perfect.”

“Great!” Your phone pings with a text from Rory, telling you that your grandparents are wondering where you are. “Shit. I have to get back. I’ll see you at nine?”

“See you then,” JJ nods and turns back to the kitchen. When his eyes meet Raymond’s, he’s reminded of what he agreed to. Almost surprised how quickly he forgot about it. You were able to take his mind off of anything without even trying. He clears his throat to get rid of the giddy grin he was wearing after talking to you, wanting to look tough and casual in front of his coworker. “Easy.” He says to him. But that felt anything but easy. He could vomit with nerves.

“There’s still plenty of time for you to screw up, Maybank.”

JJ huffs. He’s not wrong.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You drive up to the front of the country club and park in front of the main entrance. It’s 8:57. You’re early and will look eager. So you wait until 9:06 to text him that you’re here.

You changed into a pair of dark washed denim shorts, a yellow cropped tube top, a grey flannel, and navy converse. You changed your outfit about four times before deciding on your first one, not wanting to look too casual or too dressed up.

For the last three years, you wondered when the four of you would get back together as a group. You wondered if it would ever happen. And now that two Kooks are involved, you feel more nervous than excited.

You jump when the passenger seat door opens, lost in the depth of your own head. JJ smiles, not seeing your reaction.”Cool ride,” he says and looks around the interior.

“Thanks,” you say, pulling out into the road.

“I got you something,” JJ says.

You glance at him with furrowed brows. What could he have possibly gotten you since you saw him last? A book mark from the Country Club’s gift shop?

JJ reaches into his backpack and pulls out a plate with clear wrap around it. Your mouth drops when you see the chocolate cake on a plate in his hands, the smell immediately hitting your nose with pure delight.

“You saved me a piece?” You jump in your seat excitedly.

“Had to hide it good too or else Miss Carol would have had my ass handed to me,” JJ jokes and even pulls out two forks. He undoes the wrapping and cuts off a piece. He waits until you hit a stop sign and says, “Open up.”

You look at him and immediately open your mouth. He gently places the fork between your lips and you take the piece of cake off with your teeth. Like a baby.

Your eyes close with pure pleasure. “Oh my god. That’s amazing.”

“Miss Carol does know how to bake a mean cake,” JJ says and takes a bite of his own.

“Another one,” You say, glancing at the cake again. Like you said, choco-holic. “Please.” You say when JJ teases you by holding the fork away from you.

JJ laughs. “I like hearing you beg.”

You slap him in the arm with the back of your hand. “In your dreams, Maybank.”

“You got that right, Y/L/N.”

The two of you finish the cake with only a few bites each. Small but rich in chocolate that leaves you craving more. You were gonna have to meet this Miss Carol woman.

After he puts the plate back in his bag, JJ reaches for the aux cord, but you quickly slap his hand away. “Hey. What do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re seriously gonna make me listen to this the entire way to John B’s?”

You scoff. “I’ll have you know Blink-182 is one of my favorite bands.”

“It’s also soccer moms’ favorite band,” JJ laughs at you.

You turn up the volume, blasting ‘All the Small Things’ and point to your ear. “Sorry. Can’t hear you!”

JJ rolls his eyes but laughs along with you, even bopping his head to the beat. You drive with the windows down, dancing and singing along to a bunch of throwback songs with JJ as if the two of you have been doing this forever.

You pull up to John B’s and park behind his dad’s old van, better known as The Twinkie. When you turn down the music, JJ looks at you with a shake in his head. “Next time, I’m driving.”

“What was wrong with my driving?”

“We’re in the Outer Banks, Sparky, not NASCAR.”

You scoff and follow behind JJ who’s leading the way up John B’s driveway. As you get closer, you smell the smoky scent of a bonfire nearby and eventually hear John B’s laugh mixed in with a female’s. Your smile falters as nerves gather in the pit of your stomach.

“What’s wrong?” JJ asks.

“Nothing,” You say, but JJ easily catches your lie and gives you a knowing look. “What if they don’t like me?”

“Who? Pope and John B? I’m pretty sure they like you more than me even after three years -”

“Not them, you idiot,” You shove him playfully by the shoulder as you two let yourselves inside. “Sarah and Kie.”

“Don’t you go to school with them?”

“Yeah, but we don’t talk,” You say quietly, not wanting them to hear you.

“Hm.”

“What?” JJ shrugs. “Nothing. I just didn’t think you cared about what other people thought.”

“I don’t,” You say quickly. “But they're your best friends. It’s different.”

“You don’t need their approval. You technically were here first.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been replaced,” You try to say it as a joke and even throw a smirk in there.

But JJ stops in his track and looks at you seriously. “No one can replace you. Not even if they tried.”

You open your mouth to respond, but you’re at a loss for words. It’s not a common occurrence that JJ gets all serious on you. Warmth covers you like a blanket and the longer he holds your stare, the weaker your knees become.

“JJ! Is that you?” John B calls out from the backyard.

“Yeah,” JJ yells back. He opens the fridge in John B’s kitchen. “Want a beer?” He offers to you.

You shake your head. “No thanks.”

For the first time, you take in John B’s home. It looks the same as it did three years ago, only a lot messier. The pull out couch looks like its been used recently with blankets and sheets tossed about on it. Empty beer cans and cigarette butts are thrown messily on the coffee tables and the air smells faintly of old marijuana.

JJ leads you out to the back where four people are gathered around a fire. Three out of the four immediately smile when the two of you approach them, but Kie’s eyes narrow and her head tilts with confusion.

Shit, you think.

“You came!” Pope laughs and hops up from his beach chair and embraces you in a hug.

You laugh, not expecting the embrace, but welcoming it all the same. John B’s next, giving you a quick hug and shaking his head.

“I gotta say, I didn’t think you were going to come,” John B says.

“You can thank me for that later,” JJ says jokingly.

“Actually when I heard JJ was coming, I almost changed my mind and stayed home,” You joke and smirk JJ’s way.

“Just like old times,” Pope says, looking between you and the blonde. The banter felt like the yall never separated in the first place.

“Hey, you know Sarah and Kie, right?” John B points to the girls. Sarah stands up to say hi, and eventually Kie follows her, not wanting to look rude, but stays off to the side, keeping her distance.

“Yeah,” You wave awkwardly.

“Hey!” Sarah says sweetly. “I didn’t realize you guys use to all hang out.”

“Y/N grew up down the street,” JJ explains and sips at his beer.

“You want a drink or something?” Pope asks you, not knowing JJ already did.

“No thank you,” You say again.

“You don’t drink?” Kie asks. It was the first thing she’s said to you.

“Not usually,” You say and hold her stare. You try to get a read on her, but she’s had to get a tell on. You can’t tell if she just doesn’t like you or just doesn’t know you. Either way, it makes you uneasy.

“Here, I’ll go grab you a chair,” Pope says and walks to the side of the house to grab another beat up beach chair.

As the night goes on, you feel the tension in your shoulders loosen and your body feel lighter. Most of the night was spent retelling childhood stories the four of you shared. Sarah would laugh at most of them, occasionally rolling her eyes at her boyfriend from the stupid shit he would do, although it sounds like he’s no different to you now.

You talked about the time you and JJ stole a golf cart for a joy ride on Figure Eight, or when you and John B pranked Pope by putting a dead fish in his locker, or how you and John B learned how to play guitar from youtube tutorials.

Midnight came around quickly and exhaustion was slowly taking over your body. It’s been a long day between the cafe flooding, dinner with your grandparents, and now this.

JJ was the first to notice you slowly fading.

“You okay?” He asks you quietly as everyone else is caught up in conversation.

“Yeah,” You say, lazily grinning at him.

“We can leave if you want,” He says.

“You’re not staying?” You ask. It sounded like everyone was planning to spend the night here. And as much as you wanted to, you just didn’t feel comfortable enough yet.

JJ shrugs. “My dad’s out of town tonight. It’ll be nice to have the house to myself.” Before you can say anything, he stands and brushes his hands against his pants. “All right, losers. We’re out of here.”

“Aw, you’re leaving?” Sarah pouts.

“Yeah, I’m beat and Y/N’s my ride home,” JJ says.

You were glad he didn’t call you out for being tired. You didn’t want to look lame in front of everybody, especially Kie.

“Thanks for having me,” You say to everyone. It might have been John B’s house, but it was everyone’s night you intruded on.

John B stands up to hug you. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

You nod. “I won’t. I promise.”

Pope hugs you next. “Text me when you get back safe.”

“I will.”

“Bye!” Sarah waves and Kie exhales a ring of smoke from her blunt.

You wave at them before following JJ back to your car.

“Nuh-uh-uh,” JJ says. You didn’t realize you both walked to the driver’s side.

“What? No.”

JJ nods and holds his hands out for your keys. “I’m not dying tonight.”

“You’ve been drinking and smoking all night,” You say. You didn’t think JJ was drunk or even that high, but you were not going to let a teenager with an ounce of alcohol in his system get behind the wheel. “Next time. For now, hold on to the cupholder.”

JJ sighs dramatically and goes to the other side of the car and hops in the passenger seat.

This time you keep the music quiet, listening to the hum of the radio instead of your phone.

“Take a left,” JJ says.

“JJ, I know where you live. And it’s not left.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

You snicker. “Not in the slightest.”

JJ rolls his eyes. “Just take the left.”

You hold your hands up in surrender and take the left turn. He directs you for a couple more miles until he has you park in front of a 24 hour diner.

“What are we doing here?” You ask.

“I’m in the mood for a milkshake.”

“We just had cake!” You say.

“Come on, Sparky. Show me what that mouth can do,” JJ smirks.

You go to hit him again but he takes off running to the front entrance and pulls the door open. You chase after him, almost running into his back at the front host stand where JJ safely smirks at you in triumph.

“Two please,” He says to the hostess.

The old cranky woman leads you to a booth off to the side next to a window without a word.

A couple minutes later, a waitress walks by and asks if you’re ready to order.

“Yes. One chocolate milkshake and one black and white milkshake,” JJ orders for both of you, already knowing what flavor you’d want.

“And fries, please.” You say. The waitress nods, takes your menus, and walks off. JJ raises his brow at the extra order. “What?” You shrug. “Just showing you what my mouth can do.”

JJ scoffs. “What a tease.”

You playfully kick his shin under the table.

“Did you have fun tonight?” JJ asks.

“Yeah,” You answer. “Felt like old times. The girls are nice too.”

You were about to only mention Sarah, but you didn’t want to cause any issues with Kie. Not yet at least. Maybe she just needed time to warm up to you.

“See? I told you they wouldn’t bite.”

A couple minutes later, the waitress comes back with your milkshakes and fries.

“How’s John B doing? You know, with the whole Big John thing?” You ask delicately, unsure of how JJ would react to you pestering about John B’s business. “I didn’t want to ask and bring the mood down,” You explain yourself although you don’t need to.

JJ shrugs. “He’s in denial I think. Won’t sign a death certificate until he sees a body. He could be worse, though.”

“Yeah,” You say softly. You don’t know what you would do if you were in that situation. In a way you felt lucky that you never knew your dad at all. It would be harder to lose him, knowing who he was.

You take a fry and dip it into your milkshake before taking a bite. This makes JJ freeze and look at you like you have two heads.

“What?” You say with your mouth full.

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” You say and give him a look to do it.

JJ reluctantly picks up the fry and dunks it into his milkshake. He looks at the fry questioningly before popping it into his mouth. Somehow the sweetness of the milkshake and the saltiness of the french fry complement each other beautifully and his widen in pleasant surprise.

“Oh wow,” JJ says.

“Told you,” You smirk.

You spend the next hour catching up, trying to fit the last three years into an hour. JJ does most of the talking because you want to know more about what John B, Pope, and JJ have been up to. Your life was so boring and depressing, you didn’t want to bore JJ with the details.

You drive JJ home and talk for a few minutes more when you park. He seems to be procrastinating getting out of the car, but you don’t mind. You could talk to him all night, suddenly not feeling tired anymore.

“All right. I’ll let you get home before the sun rises,” He says and opens the door. He pauses when his feet hit the ground and he looks back at you. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I have to work at the shop, why?”

“Well, there’s a storm coming in. John B and I might go out to surf the surge before it hits. You still surf?”

You scoff. “Do I still surf?”

JJ holds his hands up in surrender. “Just checking. You think you can handle the surge?”

“Let’s not forget who the better surfer is, JJ.”

“I didn’t. It’s still me.”

“You wish.”

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Now you have a point to prove. You have to show JJ that you’re still the better surfer.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” You agree.

“Great, it’s a date.” He winks and shuts the door before you can tell him otherwise.

You giggle to yourself as JJ walks up the front yard and stay there until he you see he gets in safely.

You pull out of the driveway, wishing he had asked you out on a real date. One that didn’t involve John B.

Tag list: @super-funky-bisexual @sunsetswithjj @moniamaybank @throwawayfish @poguestyle17 @5am-cigarette @jjpouggues @fly-away-from-here @buckys2thicc

#JJ Imagine #jj fic #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj obx #jj fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine #outer banks imagines #outer banks fic #jj maybank one shot

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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years

Text

All Over Again - Chapter 10

Summary: What was lost can be found.

Warning: 18+ Smut, Language, Violence.

Ch. 9

* * * * * *

A loud groan sounds as booted feet stomp into the Quinjet.

Tension twists in the air, wrapping around each member of the team as they move about in silence.

Sam, having just been the one groaning, frustratedly throws his mission issued earpiece into the wall. The little device breaks on impact, plastic chipping and sliding across the jet floor.

Your eyes linger on a single broken piece, hands clenching into fists around the edge of the seats beside you.

That priority mission that you’d all been preparing for for weeks just ended horribly. And you can’t figure out how everything went south.

One second you all were neutralizing the last of the threat, yourself and Sam heading toward the containment cells. And the next, the super powered that was supposed to be locked inside the cell was attacking you.

They were quick, calculating. Every move you made they made a smarter, faster one. The fight left the two of you bruised and battered physically and mentally.

Admittedly this could’ve been much worse, had Wanda not been there to calm the brute there’s no telling what would’ve happened to you and the Falcon.

Said younger woman watches you with sad eyes. Losing sucks for her too but she can tell that it’s affected you a bit more. With a sigh, she moves to sit beside you, gentle fingers wrapping around your clenched ones.

While your body relaxes at her touch, your posture remains stiff, eyes unmoving. All she can do is scoot closer, laying her head on your shoulder.

With there being nothing to say the flight back to the compound is quiet. Wanda offers you her comfort the best she can and you accept it.

The little bit that you do start to feel better goes away the instant the jet lands. You all head straight to debriefing and having to convey your failure to Steve makes you all the more upset.

Among the many things you hate, failure is top of the list. Especially in instances such as these.

You’d extracted enhanced individuals a number of times before, you know how to do it and how to do it damn good. To suddenly not do it well, makes you question yourself.

It’s as you’re walking to your room that you encounter yet another frustration.

Well she isn’t exactly a frustration, or she wasn’t. With what has recently happened between yourself and the redhead there’s a tension in the air that could very well suffocate you.

Even though she’s been giving you the space you asked for, you don’t miss those unreadable looks she gives you whenever you’re in the same room. And you know for a fact that she’s been talking to Wanda about you. The younger woman wouldn’t tell you what about specifically as she never wants to break Natasha’s trust in her, but she did tell you that Natasha asks about you. Having done the same in the past, you aren’t going to make a big deal of it and in a way, a small way, it’s nice to know she still cares.

Stopping in front of you, the redhead opens her mouth to speak, then shuts it to think. It takes a second for her to settle on,“ hey,” a hesitant pause,“ how was the mission?”

The heavy sigh you give makes her frown,“ not well. We lost the target.” Just repeating it makes you want to punch something.

“Oh,” she grimaces. An awkward silence settles and instead of staying in it, you nod and retreat down the hallway to your room.

Despite what use to work, the shower you take does absolutely nothing for your sour mood. In fact, other than soothing your aching muscles, the time you spend in there thinking about what happened pisses you off even more.

You weren’t good enough to neutralize the target and now there’s no telling where they are and who they’re hurting. All these years spent trying to protect people and now you’re the very reason there’s a threat to innocent lives.

Being so lost in thought, you hadn’t realized you were squeezing the life out of your phone. You slip it into your pocket before you break it and exit the room promptly.

With a single destination in mind, you head down the hall, and straight back to the meeting room. As expected, Steve is still inside, eyes flickering over the mission reports you all filled out and the pre-mission information. You don’t expect Natasha to be just at his right as well but you don’t linger on that.

“Captain,” your hands press against the glass surface of the table,“ when are we going to look for this guy?”

His eyebrows pinch together as he looks up at you,“ Y/n we can’t do anything yet.” A sympathetic look masks his face which doesn’t help,“ I know this loss was big but-”

“This loss could lead to a lot of people getting hurt unnecessarily. That enhanced individual almost laid myself and Sam out and managed to escape even after Wanda got to him so just imagine what they could do to innocent unsuspecting civilians. We can’t sleep on this, if we don’t move soon somet-”

Natasha butts in, eyes as soft as ever,“ Y/n we aren’t sleeping on this. We’re going to catch this guy but if we rush in we can do more bad than good.”

Steve nods along,“ just try to relax. There’s already a team on standby when we’re ready to move.”

Your eyes narrow,“ I take it I’m not on that team.” Both of their silence is answer enough. So with a nod, you turn and leave.

Why you weren’t on the team you don’t know. If you aren’t then you’re assuming neither are Wanda and Sam. This whole thing is about as personal to you as it is to everyone else. But you trust Steve’s leadership so whatever reason he has must be good.

Doesn’t mean you aren’t still frustrated.

In terms of instant relief, the message from Lena that comes through is number one. Just seeing her name alone decreases your heart rate.

To then see that the message is a picture of her and your new found friends with the message ‘missing you’ beneath makes your heart soar.

Suddenly you’re wondering how insane it’d be of you to fly out to NC. It wouldn’t be the first time so not too crazy. And you know that seeing Lena would make just about everything better.

That’s how you find yourself, hours later after having prepped weapons for the team's mission, spoken with Cap, and talked to Wanda(who obviously understands your decision and supports it unwaveringly), stepping off a plane into National City airport.

You text Lena the second you’re in a car to find out where she is. Then telling the driver and sitting back, a little anxiously, for the ride to Al’s.

When you get there, you thank them with a tip, and head into the bar with your duffle bag in hand. E/c eyes scan the building for the familiar group and before you can even spot them, your name is called very excitedly, and you’re enveloped in a strong hug seconds later. A blonde ponytail flips past your view as you return Kara’s hug.

“It’s so great to see you.” She pulls away to reveal her bright smile,“ hi!”

Her enthusiasm brings a smile to your lips as well,“ hi.” That smile instantly grows as the brunette you’ve been longing to see walks over. Subconsciously you bite your lip, taking in the sight of her in her usual business attire, mainly the way those heels make her legs look even better.

Lena stops in front of you, a happily surprised look in her eyes. As you two focus on each other, Kara takes slow quiet steps back.

“Hope it’s okay that I just showed up, I didn’t have the best day and really needed to see you.” You give your honest explanation in hopes that you don’t seem crazy for flying across the country in the middle of the day.

The CEO’s expression softens even more, her hand reaching for yours,“ you okay?” Her eyebrows pinch together, thumb stroking the back of your hand, and she steps closer a little.

“Not really, it was pretty bad,” you sigh at the thought alone,“ seeing you makes it better though.” With your words you lean in and kiss her, a hand resting on her hip.

Lena melts into it, hand gripping yours a little tighter as she presses further into the kiss. Weeks without your lips definitely did her in. She’s positive she won’t be able to let you go this time around.

Finally pulling apart, only to quickly kiss once more, Lena tugs your hand towards the booths of your friends.

“Hey everyone.” You smile and wave.

After a round of hugs and handshakes and being introduced to Kelly, James’ sister, you sit down beside Lena. The woman leans into you and you’re happy to wrap an arm around her shoulders.

While the drinks and company are good, you still can’t bring yourself out of the rut your failed mission has put you in. Through your short laughs and on and off smiles, Lena picks up on it.

“Hey um,” she leans forward to look at everyone, grabbing the majority of their attention,“ I’m getting a little tired so we’re gonna go but we’ll see you all tomorrow night?”

Kara’s the first to “awww” but nods understandingly. Yet another round of hugs is given before you and Lena are leaving out. She maintains her hold on your hand, occasionally looking up at you with a slightly worried expression. In all the time she’s known you she’s never seen you so torn up over something. Her plan is to find out what’s on your mind and fix it asap.

So the second you’re in her apartment she’s fixing your usual drink and bringing you over to the couch.

“Thanks,” you smile softly and sip the drink. The familiar burn of the scotch warms your insides and you give an almost inaudible sigh.

“You want to tell me why your day was so bad?” Lena asks, taking a sip of her wine, and easing back into the couch.

In one quick move, you turn and lay yourself across the couch, resting your head on Lena’s lap. An action that Lena welcomes with a soft smile, her heart swelling instantly.

The woman sets her glass of wine to the side and hesitantly cards her fingers through your hair. Her soft touch is incredibly comforting. You find yourself nearly melting at the feeling, then remembering what she asked.

There’s only so much you can tell her about the mission, especially seeing as it’s still pretty open ended. What you can tell you do and it’s enough for her to understand why you’re so upset.

Groaning, you tilt your head back, further into her touch.“ - truthfully I just needed this. If I could have exactly this after every mission I’d be the happiest person alive. Scotch and you.” To emphasize your point, you take another quick sip of the drink and scoot further into Lena.

“Well,” she chuckles softly,“ if you lived here then you could have it.”

You freeze. Nothing moves but your eyes, e/c orbs landing on green as you search for seriousness. Finding it makes an eyebrow raise. Swallowing, you shift up a bit, elbows pressed into the cushions as the backs of your arms brush Lena’s thighs.

It’s clear questioning in your eyes that has Lena’s head tilting to the side. A quick teasing smile hits her lips,“ what you don’t trust that I’m a good roommate?”

“What no I- would you seriously want to live together? You don’t think that’d be moving too fast?” You ask. Moving too fast could very well cause this whole thing to end in shit and you didn’t want to risk that.

The brunette shrugs,“ I don’t think so. I already know I love you Y/n and just these past few weeks without you has me more than willing to be with you everyday. If you don’t want to that’s okay but I’d be more than happy.”

Her words settle in your mind. While thinking about them, you end up lying back down. Lena’s eyes remain on you. She occasionally sips her wine and brushes her fingers across your hairline.

Living with Lena would be incredible. Having spent a few nights with her here you can’t say you don’t love the idea of waking up to her every morning and possibly going to sleep with her every night. But moving would be more than just living with Lena.

You’d definitely be leaving Wanda. Not having your best friend around daily, now that would suck. Moving would include becoming a remotely working Avenger or just leaving the team in general. What you lose in the team you’d gain in your friends here in NC.

But then there’s finding a job that would fill that void in you. Helping people is you’re calling and you aren’t sure if being a cop or something would hold the same weight. And it’s not like you could walk up to Supergirl and the DEO and request a job.

“What’s going on in that genius brain of yours?” Lena’s voice is soft, as if she doesn’t want to startle you.

Sighing, you tell her how you’d love to live with her but then share the drawbacks of moving from New York to National City.

Her quirked eyebrow makes you curious.“ I could help with the job part.” She says with a proud little smirk.

“Yeah?”

“I work at the DEO.”

“Huh?” You frown, sitting up completely and turning to face her,“ I thought you worked at L-Corp.”

She nods,“ I do but I also work at the DEO. It was a brilliant business decision and a better way to help people. When the government supports your business there are more liberties.”

Point noted. She is right though.

“Are you sure you want to live with me? My team would argue that I can be annoying. If you don’t believe me ask Wanda.” You say.

Lena’s fingers reach up and brush your cheek before she leans in and kisses you gently,“ I’m sure I can handle it.” She tells you, earning a soft chuckle in response. Her eyes scan your face and brighten with hope at the look she finds.“ You gonna come live with me Y/nn.”

You can feel the heat rush to your face at the nickname she uses but it’s cute, especially coming from her.

“I’d have to tell the team, square some things away, have a long talk with Wan, and make sure I get that DEO job,” you ramble off, noticing that Lena’s expression remains the same,“ yes I’m gonna move in with you.”

The brightest smile you’ve ever seen lights up her face and she wastes no time in pulling you into a hug. Her lips press a quick kiss to your neck in excitement,“ I can’t wait. And you don’t have to worry about the DEO job. I know you’re more than qualified.”

When she pulls away, she tells you,“ leaving your home won’t be easy but I promise I’ll do whatever I can to make it easier for you.”

“I love you so much Lena Luthor.” You tell her.

“I love you too.” She kisses you for good measure.

As the two of you decide to go make something to eat, and that conversation replays in your head, you start to think of how you’ll tell the team and how they’ll react. Either way, you know you really want to live with Lena.

* * * * * *

Taglist: @username23345 @depressed-bi-bitch @fayhar @trikruismybitch @marvel-wlw @aznblossom @chicken-wang09 @bitchtits15 @coxmicbabygirl @blackluthxr @starlingelliot @vxidnik

#lena luthor #lena luthor x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dcu #dcu x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #reader insert #all over again

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angelfishofthelord · 3 years

Text

my life is a song for you

(a 15x18 au where Billie isn't in the picture, set before Chuck snapped everyone away)

I don’t think I can sing this song to you

Hold my lips and power through

Think about a different day

It starts with anger, of course; most of the ideas Castiel has have been met with that. This time, though, instead of the anger coming solely from the elder Winchester, it is a united chorus from all of them. Together the choir flows into bargaining, eventually being backed by a full orchestra of third day denial. The percussion of depression comes soon after the fourth day. By the time they reach acceptance on Saturday, the conductor has already put down his bow.

They end up agreeing to Castiel’s plan without actually saying those words. They just stop.

Stop arguing, stop researching, stop fending off each other’s stubborn reasoning with weak excuses.

The room stops thrashing to and fro and sits there, hands on its knees. Jack is staring at his shoes, the line of his throat bobbing up and down. Sam brushes an arm across his face, pretending it’s to wipe the hair of out his eyes, and then stands up, saying I’ll get you a bag for the trip. After he leaves Dean clears his throat and mutters about going to fill the tank on Castiel’s truck. Jack, come on, come help me, he says and the boy follows him without a word.

Castiel stands alone in the library and carefully folds up the map spread out on the table. His fingers move rigidly, like they are already paralyzed by mourning. The relief that they’ve finally accepted the plan and everything it entails is drowned out ten times over by the reality of what happens next. It has be done tomorrow night; he has less than twenty four hours to spend his family. He has to go do it alone; their presence would derail the entire plan.

No one is hungry during dinner that night, even though the burgers smell exceptionally good. After the dishes are done Dean puts on a movie that none of them are really watching. Still they huddle together on the sofa, letting it play loudly anyways because otherwise the quiet might shatter them.

I don’t think I can do this without tears

Pick a moment, fly the years

What can there be left to say

The hour before Castiel leaves the next morning Sam comes into the front room and puts a beige duffle bag down on the table. Here, he says, fumbling uneasily with the straps. I put a charger in, in case your phone runs out of battery. Castiel peers into the bag and sees different parcels of the spell ingredients, all wrapped and marked individually in Sam’s neat handwriting. There’s also a new mixtape, probably from Dean, and a little plastic bag of nougat candy, fruit roll ups, and gumdrops that Castiel knows is from Jack’s secret movie-watching snack stash.

They’ve all added a little farewell gift for him. A lump the size of a watermelon swells in his throat.

Sam is still standing there, fidgeting with the zipper of the bag and Castiel just reaches over and grabs his hand and holds it for a moment, long enough to pull himself together. And then Sam tucks his fingers around his and they hold for several minutes more. When they eventually have to let go it hurts, physically, like someone just sliced open the veins on his palm.

Dean comes by a few minutes after Sam leaves. He stands next to Castiel, looking at the map spread out over the table. The clock clucks loudly in the background and Castiel stands there, motionless, as if he can will time to pause just by sheer determination. If he feels a weight on his left side that is Dean resting s head hon his shoulder then that’s just another reason not to move or even breathe. The pressure lifts, eventually, and Castiel feels the vacancy like part of him has been sliced off.

Ten minutes before he leaves everyone else is going about the Bunker as usual. There’s been an unspoken decision reached by them all that there will be no speech, no goodbye, because otherwise Castiel simply won’t be able to go. It’s for his sake that they’re pretending to be researching in the library, or cleaning up the kitchen, or fixing the Impala.

Castiel slips the straps of the duffle bag over his shoulder. He checks his right coat pocket for the truck keys. The front room is empty but from where he’s standing he can see Jack reading at one of the library tables. Jack hasn’t come up to him yet today; Castiel understands why. He’s been avoiding the boy for the same reason.

But against his better judgement Castiel walks into the library and stands there at the edge. He watches Jack silently for a few minutes before he realizes that if he lingers even a second longer he’s going to throw down the bag, pull Jack into his arms, and never ever step out the door.

So he moves forward, quickly, and puts a hand on Jack’s shoulder. He closes his brimming eyes and presses a kiss to his son’s forehead, ignoring the teardrops rolling down his cheeks and onto Jack’s forehead. The boy’s fingers immediately close around his coat sleeve and Castiel lets the boy cling to the fabric for just a second before he pulls away hard and goes, one foot after the other, because he knows--he knows that Jack is watching him leave and it takes all the strength he never knew he had to not turn back.

When the Bunker door finally slams behind him Castiel jumps a little. The lock clicks in place like hinges on the side of a coffin.

(oh, my life is a song for you)

He breaks down at a cafe, over a coffee refill.

For the past four hours of driving he’s managed to keep himself stitched together. The threads stretched but did not burst. Not even when he put on Dean’s new mixtape at the second hour; not when he ate one of Jack’s nougat bars while getting a gas refill at the three and a half hour mark. His phone has been plugged into Sam’s charger the entire time, even though the battery is blinking at one hundred percent.

But around noon he decided to stop for some coffee. He didn’t need it to stay awake for the drive ahead, and he didn’t need to stretch his legs, but he pulled over by the diner anyways.

He needed to breathe. That was all.

As he took a table in the corner the waitress came over to pour him a cup of black coffee and he thanked her. His phone sat warm in the right pocket of his coat. Sam and Dean were only a phone call away. The thought prickled in his chest like a bouquet of needles. He tried to focus instead on the hot bitter liquid moving down his throat, drowning the temptation out.

When the waitress returned to refill his cup she told him he needs to order something to keep the table. “I’ll be on my way soon,” he said, motioning to the tip he had placed under his cup. “Could I stay for just a few minutes longer?”

Her eyes widened at the sight of the bill. “This coffee ain’t worth that much,” she laughed.

“No,” Castiel admitted, talking without thinking. “Dean makes a better cup anyways.”

And just like that, a blade cuts through all the neat knots in himself and he unravels, face buried in his hands, deaf to the fumbling questions of a slightly puzzled but concerned waitress.

A cup of coffee is enough to almost make him turn around. Almost.

keep reading on a03

#if i suffer with these ideas y'all have to suffer too #cw death #my spn fanfic #fanfic writer #castiel #jack kline #dean winchester #sam winchester #dadstiel #spn 15x18 #slipper007 #seraphcastiel #rambleoncas #plantdadcas #spn s15 #the empty

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rainbowvamp · 3 years

Text

Willow

Modern Reincarnation AU. Merlin and Lancelot go through a photo album. ~1700 words. Lancelot/Merlin. No warnings apply. (Mention of car wreck that killed Lancelot in a past life.)

A late birthday gift for Mod @little-ligi, because I couldn't have made this fest work without her. You're the best Ligi 💗

There’s no need to print photographs anymore. It’s easy enough to look at a screen and and flip through thousands, hundreds of thousands of images. But there has always been something special about choosing individual moments, perfect snapshots, and cataloging them into a book whose pages he can flip through. Merlin has been alive for over 1500 years. Books are one of the most familiar things he knows. One of the only things that hasn’t changed much in 1500 years.

People changed, clothes changed, transport changed, but not books. Those had remained nearly the same. You open the front cover and you look at what’s inside, just like always.

After 1500 years of adaptations, it was nice for this one thing to remain the same.

So when Lancelot hands him the photo album, Merlin is about to break his own face in half with how much he smiles at it. It’s a good thing, no a great thing, that Lancelot has done. The photo album is a deep forest green, the cover embossed with “The Book of Us.” In silver letters that Merlin traces with his fingers.

“What’s the occasion?” He asked, almost unable to take his eyes off of the book.

“Today is the day we met in this life, 10 years ago. I thought it might be nice.” Lancelot’s voice is so sincere, that Merlin has to look at him, has to look at the face of the man that he has loved without end or conditions for 1500 years. Tears prick his eyes because of all the love he see’s in Lancelot’s.

“I love you.” Merlin’s voice is soft when he finally finds it, and Lancelot crushes him to his broad chest, giving him a stability Merlin didn’t even know he needed until he had it.

“And I you,” Lancelot kissed Merlin’s cheek and Merlin’s fingers itched to open the photo album, but he didn’t want to leave the circle of Lancelot’s arms. He’s content to just listen to soft sound of Lancelot’s breaths, feel the pounding of his heart against his chest.

It’s Lancelot who finally breaks the silence. “Would you like to see the photos, my love?” His voice is soft and nonjudgemental. It’s obvious to Merlin that either a yes or a no would be acceptable.

“Yeah,” Merlin finally says, composing himself to pull away and walk with Lancelot to the couch.

They sit and Lancelot waits patiently for Merlin to feel ready to open the book.

The first few pages cover the span of over a year, with so few pictures taken before Lancelot knew him, before he remembered. Several of them are pulled from Instagram, captions included. There’s one of an empty seat and a drained coffee cup, and the caption just reads “I think I’ve met the man of my dreams.” It’s from their first coffee date, Lancelot’s post-date instagram update. Merlin laughed aloud, almost having forgotten it. The next is a candid shot of Merlin. They’d taken a weekend holiday a few months into dating and gone for a hike. The sun was setting behind Merlin, blurring out his features, but the silhouette was so obviously him.

The next was one of Lancelot cooking breakfast, looking over his shoulder to smile curiously at the camera.

Then the first selfie they’d ever taken together, complete with Lancelot pressing a kiss to Merlin’s cheek.

The photographs become more numerous, after that. Some of them and all their friends. There’s the photoset from Morgana’s birthday party (She’d rented a photo booth “because why they hell shouldn’t I spend Uther’s money on bullshit?”) There’s the Christmas photos for the dinner they always throw at Merlin’s because Lancelot doesn’t have any living family to go home to. Arthur and Morgana pop by when Uther becomes insufferable. Gwen and Elyan bring their father by to say hi. Leon stops by with gifts on his way to Mithian’s parent’s house. All these silly little moments caught on camera and made eternal, printed and carefully organized.

There’s the set they took at their third anniversary, a gift from Gwen and Arthur (who had recently gotten their heads out of unsavory places and started dating). There’s the picture of he and Gwaine standing side be side, smiling like old friends despite having just met twenty minutes ago. Merlin has a bruise forming on his cheek, but he’d insisted Lancelot take picture, to commemorate. “It’s not everyday I get in a bar fight, my love. Humor me.” And Lancelot always did.

There’s the terrible sledding disaster of 2015, where Merlin had crashed straight into a tree, and had been having too much fun to stop it with his magic. This is a still from a video, shortly before the actual disaster occurred. By the time the disaster was eminent Lancelot was no longer filming.

There’s the pictures he and Lancelot used to sneak of each other, just to have. Lancelot watching tellie. Merlin having a nap on the couch. Lancelot unclogging the sink. Merlin folding laundry. There was no rhyme or reason, then, for why they took the photos. It was a fun phase, each feeling challenged to take the most mundane pictures, always followed by a faked whining or griping.

There’s the picture of them from two years ago, in tailored suits, surrounded by friends, making their vows, followed by a series of all their friends dancing. A professional photographer had taken these photos, but Merlin always preferred the less polished pictures he and Lancelot took themselves that day.

Like the one Merlin had taken of Lancelot after he’d shoved cake in his face. Or Gwen’s candid picture of them gazing at each other like the biggest idiots in love.

Merlin doesn’t know when he started to cry, but he feels a tear roll down his face only when Lancelot pushes it away.

“I hope these are happy.” Lancelot puts his arm around him and Merlin nuzzles his shoulder. It’s enough, right now, to feel his warmth and smell his soap and just be near him. It’s grounding in a way only Lancelot ever was. The years with Lancelot, and there always seemed to be so many fewer of those than years without him, always made him feel the most alive. The most loved. The memories of Lancelot were good, but they didn’t sustain him, not like this would.

“Come here.” Merlins said, wiping his face and standing suddenly. He takes Lancelot’s hand and leads him out to the car.

“Where are we going?” He asked as they buckled the seat belts, but Merlin just shook his head.

“I want to show you something.”

—

The self storage place they pull up to is one of the last things Lancelot expects.

“Come on.” Merlin gets out and Lancelot dutifully follows, just like always. He lets Merlin take his hand again and watches as he pulls out a key ring that Lancelot’s never seen before and flips through them.

‘I put everything away, every time I meet one of you.” Merlin explains. “I used to have to keep the houses, to keep the things, but these are more secure.” He finally finds the key he needs as they stop outside a storage unit. “This one is from when we lived in the 1960s. Found you in Wales, then, of all places.” He smiled wanly. “We had 10 years together before you died in 1968. Car wreck.”

Lancelot only ever remembers bits of pieces of his past lives, normally only the good bits. “You weren’t with me, I presume?”

Merlin laughed as he wrenched the storage room door open. “You wouldn’t let me.”

“Is that why you never let me ride in a car without you now?”

“Part of it. I also just don’t like to be away from you.” Merlin flicked a light on and Lancelot was surprised by the sheer volume of things that existed in the room. “This was all of your things. I usually give myself about a year to wallow before I pack it away. If it’s here I never have to forget it, but I can still come and see it, if I need to.” He drags Lancelot to the back. On a wire rack there are plastic containers that looks like they’ve been taped shut. Merlin mutters a quick spell to remove the taping and then digs through the box. There are books, folders, papers, but then Merlin pulls out a photo album.

“I want you to see this. Because… I don’t know. It feels important.” Merlin is a very very old man, but he still doesn’t always have all the answers. Sometimes he just has to trust his gut and hope for the best.

He takes the album gently. It doesn’t smell stale the way old books usually do, most likely due to Merlin’s magic, but he flips it open anyway, without question. The first picture is of him and Merlin, a different him, but the same Merlin, Merlin’s arm is slung over him and they’re posing much more like a happy couple than a pair of friends. “Who took this?” He asked, tracing the lines of Merlin’s face. He looks so much older here than the Merlin he knows.

“Elyan. He liked photography. Took well to most of the Arts that life, actually.” Merlin smile and flipped a few pages to show Lancelot a picture of Elyan with a painting. “Abstraction was sort of the thing, then. He does a good job of it.”

“I don’t know anything about art, but it’s very compelling.” Even in the dreamy old photo, which was saying quite a lot.

“I brought it, a few years after he died. It’s in one of the other units.”

“How many of these do you have?” Lancelot asked, turning the page and almost laughing aloud at the image of Gwaine holding Arthur in a headlock. The two of them never changed, apparently.

“Just a couple. There are quite a lot of units in each building.”

“You own this building?”

“I’ve been alive for 1500 years, my love.” Merlin kisses his cheek and Lancelot closes the album. “I have a lot of stuff.”

“We’re taking this with us.”

“That was always the intent.” Merlin closes the box and spells the tape back into place. “That was a gift from you, too, actually, birthday present.”

“I’m predictable.”

Merlin laughed and wrapped an arm around Lancelot, tilting his head up to kiss his forehead. “You’re sentimental, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He pulled Merlin’s head back down to kiss hims squarely on the lips, making Merlin finally pause for the first time since they’d gotten in the car. “Neither would I.”

#mercelot #merlance #minimercelotweek2021 #day 5: gift #I was gonna write a fill for Thursday based on stuff I knew you liked but yesterday was a wash for writing #but maybe I'll get to it before the end of mercelot week anyway 👀#mmw2021fill

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hunterxloser · 3 years

Text

sneak preview

It was probably around the age of fifteen that Kite met Pariston Hill for the first time. Ging-san had brought Kite with him to the Hunter Association headquarters lobby, given him a brief list of orders (don’t get into trouble, don’t go anywhere, don’t talk to Pariston Hill about your nen training, don’t get into a fight, don’t steal from anyone) and turned to go. “I’m hungry,” Kite said. “We’ll go out for dinner afterward,” Ging-san said as he walked away. “Somewhere nice. I won’t be long, just wait for me here.” So Kite sat down in one of the blue plastic chairs and picked at the armrest and ran through the rules in his head. He had a granola bar in an inner pocket of his coat, but he was saving it for an emergency. He looked around. The big white lobby was empty, except for him. Even the front desk was unmanned. The shimmering chandelier above him - far above, as the ceiling must have extended almost three stories - cast the whole space into brilliant light. A table beside him had magazines on it: a financial thing of some kind, several news and gossip pieces, and - paydirt! - a nature magazine. Its cover featured a photo of a bear catching a fish, the droplets of frozen water shining in the long-dead light in which the photo had been taken, the bear’s jaws immobilized in an eternal snarl. Kite picked up the magazine and flipped through it, looking at the pictures. Then he flipped through it again and painstakingly read all the headlines. Then he flipped through it upside down. The article that seemed the most interesting was something about bats. Kite tried to read it but there were too many words he didn’t know and the little letters started giving him a headache. His stomach rumbled. He ripped the pages out of the magazine and folded them up carefully in his pocket to read later. He squirmed in the chair and looked around. There was a clock behind the front desk, but he didn’t know what time he had arrived so he didn’t know how long it had been. Kite got up and walked over to the front desk. It was one of those two-tiered desks that they sometimes had in hotels, a narrow, taller level on the customer side and a lower level for the worker. The customer side had a cup of pens with the Hunter Association logo on them, and a glass fishbowl half full of pink and green mints, each individually wrapped in plastic. Kite glanced around. He knew enough to recognize free items when he saw them, but sometimes people didn’t like it when he took the items that were free for others. But no one was around. Kite helped himself to a pen and took a big handful of mints and put it in his coat pocket. Then he took another handful of mints and went back to his chair and sat down and started eating them. He wanted to check what was behind the desk, on the worker side, but that was rarely acceptable behaviour and he didn’t want anyone to get mad at him. And even if there was food back there, Ging-san had said they would go out for dinner afterward. So Kite didn’t need to steal any food that might conceivably have been hidden behind a reception desk. He told himself. The mints were pretty good, but after he finished eating them he just felt hungrier and a little queasy. He dropped the wrappers in the trash can and looked at the clock. He couldn’t remember what the time had been when he had last looked at it. Now it was 3:50 p.m. A woman with dark purple hair walked through the lobby, her heels clicking on the tile, and disappeared through another door. Kite picked up the nature magazine again and tried a second time to read it. Many of the stories had little boxes with writing in them, separate from the main text. Kite picked the first box in an article on Nightingales in Azia. (He knew what nightingales were from the book on birds, Azia from Ging-san’s geography lessons.) He got out his new pen and underlined all the words he didn’t recognize at first glance, and then read the box, omitting the underlined words. He got, The _ _ nightingale is one of the least commonly _ birds in the southern _ of the Asian continent. Its _ feathers and _ _ allow it easy _ among the _ trees, but each year hundreds of _ bird watchers flock to _ in hopes of catching a _ of this _ bird. Beside the box was a photo of a green bird, nearly invisible amongst green leaves. Kite read his version of the text box again and thought about it. “This bird is rare to see in Azia,” he translated aloud. “Its feathers are green so it can hide in the trees. But each year hundreds of... bird watchers want to catch it. Want to catch its...” He tried to sound out the missing word. “Want to catch its... g-l-i-m-p-s-e.” Not so complicated, really. He didn’t know why they had to use so many extra words. He also didn’t know what the point of sounding out words was if he didn’t know what they meant anyway, but at least it was easier to do without Ging-san sighing impatiently at him. He looked at the clock. It was 4:37. Finding a boring page in the magazine, he took out the pen again and wrote his name in the margin. kite He wrote it again, with a capital letter. Kite He wrote it in all caps, with an exclamation mark. KITE! Then he wrote, Kite is the studint of Ging-san. Then he wrote, Kite = hunter. He rifled in his safest inner pocket and pulled out the granola bar and his Hunter license. He put the granola bar back and looked at the license, turning it over and over in his hands for the thousandth time. Its edges were so clean and hard. It didn’t have his name on it. He thought about trying to write his name on it with the pen, but that might be vandalism. He tucked the license away and shifted in the chair and sighed. He looked at the clock. 4:44. A door at the far end of the lobby opened and a man walked in. His suit was teal, and shimmered like the fish on the cover of the wildlife magazine. His hair was blond. He made a beeline for Kite, smiling all the while. Kite sat up stiffly as the man approached, every muscle tense and ready to run. But this man didn’t seem like a threat, based on both his demeanour and what Kite could perceive of his aura. “Hello,” the man said, stopping right in front of him. “Kite?” Kite said nothing. “Kite,” the man said with a brilliant smile, stooping down a little to be at the same height that Kite was, sitting, “I’m Pariston Hill. A friend of Ging’s. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held out a hand. His nails were perfectly manicured, shiny round ovals. A friend of Ging’s. Kite shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he echoed. His voice sounded thin and slightly hoarse. “My, how polite. What a delightful young person you are.” Pariston’s smile didn’t flicker. “Will you come with me to my office?” he asked. “I’d like to get to know you over tea and snacks.” “Yes,” Kite said quickly. “That sounds very nice.” It would be okay as long as he didn’t discuss his training. Pariston laughed and clapped his hands, straightening up. The light danced on his suit as he moved. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed. “Follow me!”

#kite hxh #pariston hill #hxh #hunter x hunter #kite #memecomradeoriginal #please anyone tell me what you think ! or ask questions about it if you want #this is part of a much much longer piece

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spencerspecifics · 4 years

Note

What about a moried fluffy fic based on You Belong With Me by: Taylor Swift

You have no clue how much I absolutely love this song prompt thank u anon moreid is my shit here we go. (It is fluffy but it’s angsty in the beginning so yeah stay for the fluff thanks.) And I’m so sorry this took so long to get up! I took some time off from writing bc of lots of factors.

Lowkey TW?? Slight homophobia Bc Derek’s gf thinks he’s “too gay” even tho he’s just bi Also, song lyrics are in bold lettering. They’re going to be part the story here and there to help plot and whatnot so yeah!

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You Belong With Me

———————————————————————

Spencer had a problem. Namely a person problem. A Derek Morgan problem. Spencer didn’t hate Derek, quite the opposite, actually. Spencer was crushing hard on the man. And he couldn’t do anything. Spencer would rather lose his right hand then tell Derek how he felt about him, he couldn’t risk their friendship over his stupid little crush.

But just because he hid his feelings, ignored them through hell and high water- it didn’t mean they weren’t real, or weren’t there. They were both very real and apparent. Every time Derek called him ‘pretty boy’ or ‘genius’ or ‘handsome’, every time Derek wrapped his arm around him casually or did small things to showed him he cared, caused Spencer to blush and go speechless. Spencer was smart, but how to react to someone you’re infatuated with giving you attention, he’d never be able to solve that.

Time and time again, though, he found himself in situations where it was just him and Derek- and everything in his brain and body would scream at him to tell him how much he liked him, tell him how they should be together. It just made sense, after all.

Long paragraph short, here are the four times Spencer felt like they belonged together, and the one time Derek realized they do belong together.

“...You’re on the phone with your girlfriend, she’s upset. She’s goin’ off about something that you said, ‘cause she doesn’t get your humor like I do...”

Spencer hung out with Derek a lot, it was just by default. He wasn’t a social individual, but he pack bonded with the team. Spencer saw everyone there as his friends, so yeah, he hung out with Derek. They would go do things together, grab lunch, get coffee, meet up to go shopping. Painfully mundane tasks that were so domestic it could cause spencer another migraine if he thought about it for long enough.

It was on one of these mundane days when problems slowly arose. They were in the mall, sat in the food court. Spencer was looking over a new book he had just bought, it was a thick book on physics, it would probably take him a day or two at most to read it, his tray of food in front of him was still mostly untouched.

Unlike Spencer, Derek was eating. Though it was greasy mall pizza, it was still food. Derek decided he’d run a few extra miles to work it off as some sort of consequence for his action.

They sat in silence, Spencer already flipping through pages quickly, mouthing the words he was reading over to himself; and Derek chewing silently as he watched the genius in front of him.

That was, until, Derek’s phone rang. Breaking the ambiance that had surrounded the two. Spencer didn’t look up, he was too invested in the book in front of him. Derek reacted, though, wiping his hands off on a napkin before grabbing his cell phone out of his back pocket. He looked over the caller ID, it was Melissa.

Melissa was his newest fling, Spencer had heard bits and pieces of Garcia and Derek’s conversation surrounding the topic, but he knew the bare minimum- deciding best to not involve himself with how his crushes romantic life was soaring- meanwhile his was crashing.

Spencer didn’t know it was Melissa though, not until Derek pulled the phone up to his ear and said; “Hey, Melissa!”

If anyone on their team was with them and watching Spencer, they would have noticed the way his eyes looked off the book for a moment, up at Derek, before immediately turning back down; to reread the same page he didn’t need to reread because he could just go back into his memory to figure out what the words on the paper meant to say. But he had to reread the page. The strongest memory in the whole universe couldn’t tell him what was on the page in front of him, he was distracted.

Melissa on the other line started speaking. Derek listened before responding; “Oh, not much, Y’know- just at the mall with the doc.”

Spencer kept himself staring down at the book in front of him, even though he could feel the blush rising up to his ears. It was stupid that made him blush like a schoolgirl. But he couldn’t help it. So instead, he hid in the pages about quantum mechanics. Something real, something not confusing. Something that was pure and basic and understanding.

“No-“ Derek chuckled, “No, pretty boy ain’t that type of doctor,” god, this was going to be the death of Spencer. Pretty boy always was something that made him melt. He couldn’t help it, god knows he tried. He did all the distraction techniques he could find. None of them really worked.

Spencer opted to hide in his book more, act like he wasn’t listening to Derek. Even though he was. He was always hooked on every last word the man spoke, it always mattered. This was just a hopeless effort, Spencer realized, as he sunk down in the uncomfortable plastic chair.

“Now, what on earth are you- hey, baby- beautiful, what are you-“ Derek started, sounding concerned.

Spencer couldn’t help it at this point, he looked up over the top of the book. Derek was looking at his phone in bewilderment. It was no longer up to his ear.

“...Everything okay?” Spencer asked curiously after a moment. Derek just sighed setting his phone down on the table next to his food tray. “I don’t even know, man. I called you pretty boy and that made Melissa flip- she was all like ‘who’s pretty boy? We discussed you being bisexual already, you better not be changing up on me’. Then she hung up.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Spencer replied, book still up between him and Morgan. “Yeah, I’m confused. It was a joke.” Derek explained to Reid, as if Spencer was ever owed an explanation regarding this.

“She must be insecure.” Spencer theorized plain and simple. Derek watched him curiously instead of asking anything to lead him on, “If she gets the idea that we’re a thing- just based on a nickname, then she’s gonna hate you and Garcia. You don’t need someone like that.”

Derek sighed, “You’re right. But I really thought she was great.” “Maybe she is,” Spencer shrugged, “I don’t know her. You do. All I’m saying is, she won’t like you and Garcia if she didn’t like my nickname.”

That elicited a chuckle from Derek, a sound Spencer always cherished in hearing. “Yeah, I can’t have someone hating my favorite boy wonder,” once again, Spencer could feel the blush coming onto his face. He was just hoping the lighting inside the mall food court didn’t make it all too obvious. “I’ll talk to her about it.” Derek decided. Spencer just nodded, not entirely wanting to talk right now.

“Yeah.. um, do what’s best.” Spencer agreed blandly. He wasn’t sure what else to say. And wasn’t this just laughable? Giving his crush dating advice? Spencer wasn’t stupid, but he was in this scenario.

“Yeah, I will. Anyways,” Derek continued the conversation casually, reaching out covering Spencer’s book with his hand. “What are you-“ Spencer started, confused. “Taking away your book. Eat before your food gets cold.” Derek spoke plainly, as if this was so obvious. He pulled Spencer’s book out of his grasp, setting it down next to himself; before pushing Spencer’s untouched tray of food in front of him.

“I’m not very-“ Spencer started, already trying to reach back for his book. Derek just shook his head, pulling the book closer to him. “Nuh-uh, not today. Not today. You’re eating. No if’s, and’s, or but’s.”

Spencer sunk down in his seat a little as he finally caved, agreeing and eating the mall food. Granted, it wasn’t great, but it was food, and he did need to eat. Last thing he had eaten that day was a granola bar for breakfast, and Derek knew that he forgot to eat.

He ate in silence as Derek watched him, before moving his gaze to casually watch the other mall patrons. It was so entirely stupid and domestic of them. It was nothing special, it wasn’t even that good of a memory. But for some reason, Spencer knew that was the first time he felt something new towards Derek. More new than just his crush. It was a new, overwhelming feeling of “I wouldn’t treat you that way” “I wouldn’t care if you called someone babygirl” “I would be better for you” before finally, his mind landed on, “you belong with someone who wouldn’t judge. Someone like me. You belong with me.”

That’s when Spencer knew he was fucked, more so than before.

“...I’m in the room, it’s a typical Tuesday night. I’m listening to the type of music she doesn’t like. And she’ll never know your story like I do...”

The second time was at Spencer’s apartment. He had complained about his bookshelf not being stable enough to hold all his books, and Derek had practically invited himself over; “C’mon, Reid. It’ll be good. Get some quality time without the ladies, we can order Chinese, plus I can show you how to fix your shelf so you don’t have to ask for help next time.”

So yeah, now they had gone directly from work to Spencer’s apartment- the only pit stop being to Derek’s house to pick up his toolbox, as Spencer didn’t have one.

Spencer wished he wasn’t such a pushover, because damnit, now he was gonna be in his apartment with Derek. That didn’t seem like a problem to anyone else, obviously- because they weren’t crushing hard on the guy. So Spencer just had to stand there and hide how much he liked Derek, and how at home Derek made his apartment feel- because it felt better with him there. He belonged there.

Spencer ignored his thoughts as they got into his apartment, he led Derek over to the problematic bookshelf in question. Some of the books had toppled off the shelves, and were on the ground below. “Damn, Reid, you don’t mess around with all these books.” Derek joked lightly as he looked over the immense amount of books Spencer had shoved onto the shelf; Derek squatted down, lowering the tool kit next to him as he started taking books off the shelves one by one so he could further inspect what was wrong with it.

Spencer protested, not understanding Derek was joking, “It’s not my fault- the bookshelf is supposed to hold books, if it can’t do what’s promised then that’s on the manufacturers error.”

Derek just chuckled slowly in response before replying, still pulling books off the shelves “Don’t worry, pretty boy, we’ll get this sorted out for you, alright? Just get some music on so we got something to hang to.” Derek wasn’t looking at Spencer, thank god- or he’d see how the genius got so flustered so quickly, how quickly a blush spread across his face, and how he immediately looked away from him, to the walls, the floor. To look at anything but Derek.

“Yes- right. Music.” Spencer changed his focus, he couldn’t think about how good it felt to be called a pet name by Derek. He couldn’t let himself think about it, or else he’d never stop. So he busied himself with getting some music to play through the quiet apartment, he turned over to his old radio that was sat on his study desk, it was a loud radio, that’s why he got it. It was compact, but if he put it in the bathroom he could hear it from the kitchen. It was the perfect device for him.

Spencer turned the radio on, the channel he always listened to was already tuned in, so he left it that way. Soft instrumental music started flowing out of the speakers, Derek stopped his motion of putting books down to turn and look at Spencer semi-curiously; “What’s this music?” “Classical.” Spencer replied easily, looking down at the radio as he messed with the volume dial that always seemed to be loose. “It’s on 88.1, they play strictly instrumental and classical pieces. It’s nice.”

Derek didn’t respond, Spencer didn’t need him to respond. It was an inconsequential conversation about music. If Derek didn’t like the station, he was more than welcome to change it to another. But he didn’t, it was Spencer’s apartment, and the soft classical music playing just seemed fitting to play there. Plus Derek just wanted the music as a background sound to help him focus, it wasn’t really important what it was- just that there was music playing.

Spencer went off to the kitchen to find the menu he had saved from the local Chinese restaurant that does deliveries, meanwhile Derek continued pulling books off the shelves. Melissa would hate him for being here, ever since the call at the mall, she was convinced Derek was going to leave her for him- or for another guy. She thought he was “too gay” to stay with her, obviously that’s not how him or his bisexuality works. But Melissa didn’t see it that way.

God, everything Derek saw, Melissa saw differently, it was ironic he was even with her. He saw Penelope Garcia as his best female friend, his babygirl. Melissa saw her as a threat, they had a whole argument about it. Melissa had finally stopped seeing Garcia as a threat when he told her that Garcia was wrapped up in Kevin drama. He wanted to tell Garcia about all of this, but he knew that if he did she would immediately tell him to dump her. Anyone that came between their friendship wasn’t allowed, and that wasn’t a rule Garcia had made up, it was more of an understanding they had come to about their dynamic as friends.

Derek just hadn’t dumped her yet out of fear. This was his first significant other in so long, it felt like a failure to start something and end it. He wanted to fix it. Though he knew it was unlikely he could, he still wanted to try.

Derek kept thinking as he finished pulling the books off until there were none left, he then pulled on the board of the shelf to see how unstable it was, all while continuing to think. He thought about Melissa, but none of it was really positive. It was all what she would hate about him being here, other than the obvious of being with Spencer (which she already disliked. She hated the genius and she hadn’t ever spoken to him, which Derek didn’t think was rational at all.) She would hate how Spencer’s apartment was, the green walls and shelves of books, the lack of a television, the soft glow from the lamps. Derek found every single last one of these qualities endearing, it helped show who Spencer was as a whole. Melissa would see it as a problem.

She’d say green was a gross color, that Spencer needed to be aware of pop culture and get a television, she’d say that Spencer didn’t get out enough and he lived like a hermit; she’d say the lighting was weird and dark, instead of soft and calming.

Derek let out a sigh, deciding to abandon his thoughts as a whole, because they were just starting to irritate him. Spencer was great the way he was, Melissa was being problematic; and him and her really needed couples counseling or something. That was the decision he landed on as he gave his full attention to the wiggly boards in Spencer’s bookshelf.

Derek pulled on the shelf again to test it’s strength. It was loose, pretty close to just falling down altogether. It was good he was here to fix it, Derek concluded, as he reached for the screwdriver in his toolkit.

The night continued on, Derek went through part by part, working on fixing Spencer’s bookshelf; meanwhile Spencer had ordered them dinner from the local Chinese place. Reid had thought about setting up the dinner at his kitchen table, before immediately regretting that idea. This was casual, it wasn’t some type of sit down dinner with Derek. That’s the last thing he needed, Spencer decided, as he walked over to Derek and handed him the carton of beef broccoli and a pair of chopsticks to go with.

Derek took them and put them down next to himself quickly, before pivoting into a sitting position on the floor and turning himself away from the bookshelf, facing exactly to the dinner table- which is where Spencer had opted to sit at, alone.

“What’re you doing all the way over there?” Derek’s spoke out to him. Spencer tried to be casual, “All my stuff’s over here, and it’s not that far from you,” he shrugged, hoping Derek wouldn’t go any deeper. But of course, he did. “And I’m over here, so bring your stuff my way- you’re gonna make your repairman eat sitting on the floor alone? That’s cold, man.”

Spencer rolled his eyes as he picked up his carton of orange chicken and rice, “Okay, I’m here.” He tried to sound like he was annoyed, instead of stupidly simultaneously happy and unhappy with derek’s request (happy because his stupid crush on Derek, unhappy because of the same, unfortunate reason).

He made his way over to Morgan, sitting down across from him and using the back of his couch as a makeshift chair prop to lean against. He opened up his food, as Derek was now satisfied with this series of events and had gone back to paying attention to his beef broccoli. Spencer picked up his fork, ready to eat and just ignore how he was feeling, when Derek spoke up again; “Seriously- you still don’t know how to use chopsticks?”

Suddenly, Spencer was giving Derek a glare that had no malice, while Derek just chuckled at Spencer’s fury. “I’m tellin’ you. You need to learn how to use chopsticks.” “It’s fine.” Spencer argued weakly, “No way, if suddenly all the forks, knives, and spoons vanished, you’d have to eat with chopsticks.”

“Not true if sporks are still a thing.” Spencer pointed out, “I’m gonna smack you.” Derek replied, now it was Spencer’s turn to laugh.

“...But she wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts, she’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers. Dreaming ‘bout the day when you wake up and find. That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time...”

The third time was when Spencer had resigned, accepting his feelings for what they were. He was now simply playing the waiting game, of waiting his crush out- because god knows he can’t go on like this forever. He hated how things have changed from a small crush into a serious never ending stream of thoughts he had whenever he was with Derek, but that’s how it was for him now.

He had ways to keep himself in check, though. As he always did. One was re-reading long old stories to himself from memory. It usually worked pretty well, and it was a good way to just pass the time in general.

Except for one, especially horrid time, when the FBI baseball team had a game against the CIA’s.

Spencer wasn’t playing, thank god for that. He wasn’t good at sports, though that one time he played baseball with Derek earlier in the season was a great memory he loved to go back to and remember. But that was a fluke, and he knew if he played again it wouldn’t go nearly as well.

Since he wasn’t playing, him and the rest of the team had come along to bring Morgan moral support from the sidelines of the bleachers. What Spencer hadn’t expected was Melissa showing up, too.

She showed up at the same time the team did to the field, they set up on the bleachers with some blankets and a basket full of snacks (courtesy of one Penelope Garcia.) and then she was suddenly walking over, surprising the team.

“Hi- um, are you Garcia? Is this the area for the BAU?” She asked, she had shoulder length brown hair, hazel eyes, and was wearing a flowy pink and yellow sundress. She was pretty, borderline beautiful, there was no denying that.

Spencer decided to start re-reading the books in his head by that point. He could already guess it was Melissa, as Rossi wouldn’t have invited a woman to this event until at least the ninth or eighth date (though with Rossi, Spencer never really knew how he operated in terms of dating, and he had no desire to know). Spencer also knew she wasn’t Hotch’s, as Hotch was too focused on Jack and the team to even consider dating.

Emily was single, and definitely would not invite a guy (or girl) to this either. J.J. was happy with Will, and Penelope had the on and off thing with Kevin. So yeah, Spencer deduced easily that this beautiful mysterious woman was Melissa.

The fact Derek invited Melissa rubbed Spencer the wrong way. But it wasn’t his business, he reminded himself, as he did his best to start focusing in on pride and prejudice in his mind.

Garcia began welcoming Melissa, even though it wasn’t necessary; “It is! And I am! Hi! Are you Melissa? Derek told me you were coming!”

Spencer did his best to not focus on Melissa, skipping forward a few chapters into pride of prejudice in his mind, to keep himself focused. He got pulled from his book though, as Melissa introduced herself and Garcia started introducing the team back;

“Well, grandpa over there is David Rossi,” “Easy, or else you won’t get those extra vacation days I offered you.” Rossi replied simply as hell, reaching for a bag of chips from the basket. “Fine- that esteemed gentleman right there is David Rossi.” “Better.” Rossi responded, a small grin showing across his face. Melissa laughed softly with Garcia and Rossi for a moment before Penelope continued on;

“That’s Aaron Hotchner, and his son Jack.” Garcia pointed them out, Jack was playing on his Nintendo DS, only looking up to wave briefly as Hotch reached over to shake Melissa’s hand. “Nice to meet you.” “You too.” She smiled at him.

“Those two lovely ladies are Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss, plus Jennifer’s hubby Will and their adorable son Henry,” they all shook hands with Melissa, and J.J. briefly told her that it wasn’t necessary to call her “Jennifer” but instead “J.J.” as that was the name she was most used to.

“Then, we got Doctor beautiful brain, Spencer Reid.” Spencer looked up, giving Melissa a small wave, finally looking her head on. He had seen her, sure, but he hadn’t made eye contact with her until right now. And damn, she looked wild behind the eyes. And not in a good way. She was perky, seemingly almost as positive as Penelope. But that positivity didn’t reach her eyes. She looked Spencer up and down, and there was something deep in her gaze that made him want to get up and walk to the CIA side of the bleachers. It was clear he was going to have to walk on eggshells around her, and he wished he knew why.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Spencer offered up as a greeting, “You too,” Melissa replied, smiling as she turned on her polite charm again. It was only in her eyes he could see her distaste towards him. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Melissa settled down, sitting next to the rest of the team as they waited for the game to start. She was thankfully seated near Emily, J.J., and Garcia. So Spencer and her’s conversation was limited.

That was until, he was brought up in conversation; “Oh geez- one of the funniest things was when Spence and Morgan got stuck in that elevator together,” J.J. recounted, causing all four of them to laugh; meanwhile Spencer didn’t react. He was still deep in his mind reading, and though he heard his name called, it didn’t cause him to want to stop.

“Yeah- I heard about that from Derek, he said Spencer spouted off some fact about people and elevator deaths because he was scared.” Melissa turned to Spencer as she spoke, giving him an in to speak. Spencer didn’t realize she had even turned to him, as he was fully focusing his brain power on the pages of the book he had read over before.

“Uh.. what’s he doing?” Melissa asked in a hushed voice to J.J., “Oh- he’s just reading. Spencer, hey.” J.J. said, leaning over and tapping his shoulder, finally catching his attention; causing him to open his eyes.

“Sorry- what?” Spencer finally spoke, as he was fully there and listening to them now, instead of somewhat ignoring them and focusing on a memory of a book.

“..J.J. said you were reading?” Melissa asked curiously, obviously confused. Spencer nodded, “Yes. I was. I have an eidetic memory so I can look back at anything I’ve ever read. So sometimes I go back and read books I’ve read before.” Spencer explained awkwardly, “I do it to, uh, pass the time.”

“Hm.. that’s.. that’s cool. Derek mentioned you were smart, recounting lots of facts.” Melissa said slowly, it seemed like she was trying to gain some sort of edge in the conversation, but thankfully Emily butted in casually- not realizing the odd atmosphere that was slowly building.

“Oh yeah- Reid’s always doing that. Talk to him on Halloween and all he talks about is how paganism played a major role in the now very American, very non-pagan holiday.” The girls laughed on innocently as Melissa gained a serious look in her eye again.

“You know everything?” She asked him, “No.” he replied, he was self assured in this field, he knew how to handle himself when people were doubting his intelligence level. “I just know a lot.” He clarified.

Melissa looked like she was ready to speak, say something to him- he had no clue if it would be good or bad. But everyone’s attention got redirected on the whooping sounds both teams made as they entered the field. The game was starting.

Spencer had stayed focused on the game, even running statistics and probabilities in his head on who would come out victorious. Rossi made a joke they should bet on the game like people do on horses, and he’d just cheat and use Reid to make sure he won.

The rest of the team didn’t go for that, as they would employ the same strategy as Rossi, and Spencer was smart enough to give them all the wrong answers so he would actually win.

It was now the third inning, J.J. had gone with Hotchner and Will to take a short walk with the kids, as they were getting bored in their seats. Rossi went off to flirt it up with the older woman who was running the concessions stand, and Emily and Garcia had gone off to the bathroom together.

Now it was just Melissa and Reid alone, and Reid didn’t like her company. He didn’t mean it in a rude way, but also maybe he did- for his very stupid and very personal reason that she was actively dating his crush. But besides that reason, she seemed off, and on a team of behavioral analysts, he couldn’t be the only one who noticed.

There was something wrong with her, but Spencer couldn’t place his finger on what. That was, until, she sat down next to him on the bleachers. “So,” she started casually, “what’re you reading up there?” “Pride and Prejudice.. have you read it?” Spencer replied, doing his best to make polite conversation.

Melissa shook her head, “No, way too long of a book for me.” Spencer just nodded, an “Ah” sound escaping his lips before their conversation entirely diminished as they sat in silence, watching the CIA’s team line up for batting.

Derek was on second base, and while he waited for the CIA team to finish lining up, he turned to the only two people still on the bleachers and waved. Melissa waved in response excitedly, “Go Derek!” She shouted for good measure, Reid on the other hand just gave a small wave to him.

Their personalities were very different, Spencer gathered.

“Derek helped you with a bookshelf the other week, right?” Melissa asked after silence had settled over them, and Reid had almost returned to his brain book. Her question stopped him from reading, though.

Spencer nodded, “Uh, yeah. He helped fix my bookshelf, the boards were all wobbly and books couldn’t stay on.” Melissa hummed in response for a moment, before looking back out to the field. Derek was now busy talking to a teammate, a guy Spencer recognized from the terrorist division.

“Look, Spencer,” Melissa finally spoke again, letting out a sigh before she continued on; “We both know Derek is an attractive man, a great man. But he’s my man. I don’t need you confusing him and making him switch sides- believe me, I want to think that you two are just the best of friends and that’s it. But I don’t believe it, not for a second, especially not after hearing how he talks about you, and finally meeting you.”

Spencer stayed quiet, not looking at Melissa, instead opting to stare at his hands, that were now firmly clasped together as he took in what she was saying. “We are just friends, though..” Spencer finally spoke up in a weak defense for himself. Melissa just chuckled, their pleasant conversation had somehow turned to her speaking to him in a sickly sweet malicious tone.

“I don’t think you are. I think there’s something more, and I don’t want things to go any further- with either of you.”

Spencer stayed quiet again, seriously considering exiting the bleachers and getting a cab (as the team had carpooled over to this event together.) and just leaving, going back to his apartment and faking the stomach flu for a day and a half. It seemed so appealing to just disappear right now.

Melissa continued on after she realized Spencer wasn’t going to say anything. “I’m not trying to be the bad guy here, Spencer. You seem very kind, and smart. You told me earlier you don’t know everything, but you know a lot,”

Spencer nodded, that was true, he had said that, she kept going; “I hope you now know where your place is. Away from Derek. And I hope you know you aren’t alone with me talking to you, I would be telling Penelope Garcia the same exact thing, except she has a boyfriend, Kevin. Derek told me. So you’re the only single one who poses a problem. I hope we can be friends- but you need to back up.”

And that was all, she got up and moved away, and just in time as Emily and Garcia made their reappearance from the bathroom and onto the bleachers.

Spencer stayed frozen, however. Not really sure what he could say or do. All he knew now is that he had a very good reason to dislike Melissa. And he did, as much as he hated to admit it. He disliked Melissa, he wanted her gone. He didn’t want her and Derek together.

He was now only more sure that he would treat Derek better, he wouldn’t go around threatening his friends- he couldn’t even imagine that as something he would ever want to do.

Spencer stayed, shrunken on the bleachers as he watched the team play, staying quiet and reserved while Melissa and the rest of the team cheered.

Spencer just hoped Derek figured out that Melissa wasn’t good for him sooner than later, or else he’d never get out of the relationship scratch-free.

“Walkin’ the streets with you and your worn out jeans. I can’t help thinking this is how it ought to be. Laughin’ on the park bench thinking to myself, ‘hey isn’t this easy?’. And you got a smile that could light up this whole town. I haven’t seen it in a while since she brought you down. You say you’re fine I know you better than that. Hey, whatcha doing with a girl like that?”

Since Spencer’s unfortunate encounter with Melissa, he had done his best to steer clear of Derek. Only being with him when necessary (and they were only really together for work, though for the few latest times that Derek’s invited him out to get food or see a movie, Spencer’s declined).

Derek had subtly caught notice, wondering why Reid had been declining his invitations. At first he thought it was because Reid was busy, he was somehow also getting a bachelors degree in philosophy at the moment, it made since if he had limited free time.

But then he did more thinking, and even if reid was busy- he always made time for Derek. Morgan knew that for a fact, because every time he needed help (work related or not) Spencer was there, and ready to assist. Even if Reid was studying, the kid read so fast he only needed to read something once to remember everything. So it didn’t make sense. Not at all. Spencer was avoiding him.

So why? Derek now had to get alone with Reid, he needed to see what this was about.

And Derek got his chance, after solving a case in the sleepy city within Maine, called Rangeley. The teams plane was having a malfunction issue with a part of the engine, so they were stuck there for an extra day. Unfortunate for everyone else, but a blessing in disguise for Derek. It was the perfect time for the team to hang together, maybe get some meals or see a movie. But Derek set up a plan.

Morgan knocked on Spencer’s door the morning they had nothing to do, with his plan already getting set in motion. This was step one, of many.

Reid responded in his own special fashion, opening the door a crack to look out at Derek and into the hall, his hair looked messy, he was still slightly bleary eyed- and he was still in his pajamas and mismatched socks. He had just woken up.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Derek asked, he didn’t want to start this morning off on Reid being rudely awoken. Reid nodded as he opened the door more, stepping forward the slightest bit. “Yeah, but it’s okay. What’s going on?” Reid was already aware of the plane situation, the whole team had been told last night, which forced Derek into making this last minute plan.

“Nothing- the team doesn’t have anything to do. Wanna go get breakfast?” Derek asked, trying to phrase his words and himself casually. He didn’t want Reid to get suspicious and back out. He just wanted answers from his best friend, that’s all.

Spencer rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before responding. “Okay, yeah. Let me go get changed.”

They arrived at an Ihop. It wasn’t anything special, but it was the nearest breakfast place to the hotel, so it worked for them. They were greeted by a hostess who showed them to a booth.

Spencer didn’t know why he agreed this this, he shouldn’t have. But in his half-awake and still somehow sleep deprived mind, breakfast seemed like a good idea. A great idea, in fact. But he now was anxious again. He didn’t want to deal with Melissa, call him scared, nonconfrontational, weak- whatever. He just didn’t want to have to deal with her. He enjoyed hanging out with Derek, but he knew if he did then it would be inevitable that he would end up facing her wrath again.

Almost immediately after the hostess showed them to their booth, their waiter appeared to take their orders. “Goodmorning, what can I get started for you two?” The older gentleman, whose name tag simply read “John” asked them.

“Just some coffee, please.” Derek ordered for the both of them. He knew what Spencer would want to order, and he also knew how bad Spencer was at conversing with people he wasn’t familiar enough with. John just nodded, saying a quick; “Comin’ right up!” Before walking off to leave them alone.

“Is the rest of the team coming?” Spencer asked as he stifled a yawn with his hand. Derek shook his head, “No, they all wanted to sleep in. Lucky I dragged you out of bed, though.” He joked, hoping to lighten the mood in the room. Spencer just smiled sheepishly for a moment before looking back down at the table.

They stayed quiet, which wasn’t unusual for the two, especially considering they were both still tired. But Derek didn’t want there to be silence, he wanted to talk about what was going on. “Reid-“ he started, but before he could continue his sentence, John was standing by the table with a pot of coffee. Derek and Spencer both wordlessly pushed their mugs over towards John, watching him fill them up with coffee in silence.

John finished pouring and stepped back, “I’ll give you folks some more time before ordering.” Derek just nodded at him, “That would be great, thank you.” And with that, their waiter was gone.

Reid was now focused on his mug of coffee, grabbing some sugar packets from the container on the table and ripping one open after another, before finally pouring it into his coffee. “How many sugars you plan on putting in there?” “Two.” “You’re already ripping open a third packet, Reid.”

“Oh.” Was all he said in response, Derek sighed, Spencer wasn’t acting right; he hadn’t for a while but this morning was peak Reid-being-weird, so Derek needed to take a stronger approach; “Reid. What’s wrong?”

“Hm? Nothing’s wrong.” Spencer said all too quickly to be believable. Derek rolled his eyes, watching the tired genius grab a spoon and stir his coffee with an intensity he never normally used. “That doesn’t work on me, man. We’re all profilers. I know when something’s up.” Spencer stayed quiet, still stirring his coffee with the spoon.

Reid didn’t want to be in this situation. He knew he should’ve hidden himself better, said and acted in different ways. Derek knew something was up, and Spencer couldn’t hide it forever. Especially not from him. He hated lying to Morgan.

“So..” Spencer spoke quietly, “What do you think is up?” Derek rolled his eyes at Spencer again, “Don’t talk to me like an unsub trying to stall. Somethings wrong. Did I do something- was it something I did or said?” Spencer put his spoon down as he watched Derek.

“I gotta be honest, Reid. I don’t know what’s going on here. We used to hangout so much, and suddenly you’re giving me the cold shoulder. I thought it was because of your studies- but you’ve done written whole thesesis while we’ve hungout. So it’s not you being busy with school. You make time. Why isn’t there any time now?” Derek kept going, voice raising in intensity as he got to the end.

Spencer wanted to say something, he wanted to say something so bad. But he didn’t know what. So instead he took a sip of his not-sweet-enough coffee. Derek watched him as he did so, intensity not wavering.

Spencer put the mug back down onto the table before he finally found his words, “It’s not you. You didn’t do anything.” “So what is it?” Morgan asked him almost instantly. Spencer sighed, he didn’t want to say it was Melissa. He couldn’t, he didn’t want to make Derek feel bad, he thought Derek was happy with her. He didn’t want to ruin that, even if Melissa was terrible. Derek was seemingly glad, and Spencer didn’t want him changing from positive to anything else (except somehow maybe more positive.)

“It’s nothing.” “It’s definitely not nothing, Reid. Please tell me.” Derek pried more. He couldn’t let this go. Spencer sighed, a weak sign of defeat. “Okay- but. I’m sorry. This involves Melissa.” He admitted, looking up to see Derek had a confused expression on his face. “What about her?” “When we went to the baseball game a few weeks ago and met her. She was really pleasant at first, but as soon as we were alone on the bleachers together she told me that I needed to stop being so close with you. And it really freaked me out, she saw me as a threat.”

Derek leaned back in the booth bench, unsure of what to do. “What did she say?” Derek finally asked after a moment, deciding he wanted to know what Melissa said to Spencer in full to make him act like this. Spencer didn’t deserve to be treated this way, he just didn’t. “I’m not going to-“ Spencer started, Derek just cut him off, “Yes you will. I know you remember what she said. So tell me. Please.”

Spencer fidgeted with the handle of the mug, “Okay, okay.. she said that you were her man and then she said, ‘I don’t need you confusing him and making him switch sides’...” Spencer spoke once more after that, before he could forget, “She also, um.. she said she would tell Garcia the same thing, except she didn’t because she knew she was with kevin.”

Derek stayed quiet, looking at Spencer before looking back down at his mug of coffee. Spencer stayed quiet, he didn’t know what he could say or do right now to make this better.

“I’m sorry.” Spencer finally decided to speak after it had been silent for a few minutes. “I didn’t want to tell you because you-“

Derek held his hand up as a simple gesture, indicating Spencer should be quiet. Spencer hushed up quickly, watching Morgan, who was sitting silently still, staring down with an intensity that could burn stronger than the sun. He stood up after a moment, pulling out his wallet and putting two twenty dollar bills down on the table, in front of Spencer. “For the coffee. Get some breakfast, too. I need to go.” “Derek, I-“ Spencer started, standing up, he wasn’t gonna leave Derek alone, especially to process this large amount of information. but he had started walking away, back turned to reid- leaving him alone at the booth. He wasn’t going to come back, and as much as Spencer wanted to follow him and never leave his side- he could tell he should leave him alone, at least for now.

After that whole experience, Spencer didn’t stay to get breakfast. He finished his coffee, paid, and left quickly. Deciding Derek needed space, and he wasn’t sure what else he could do, so he tucked tail back to the hotel. He lied to himself, saying maybe he could nap or watch T.V and ignore his imploding thoughts.

He couldn’t ignore his imploding thoughts, if that wasn’t painstakingly obvious. Spencer’s mind reeled from every aspect of their breakfast, to how he was curt and almost rude to Derek- he now wished he hadn’t been, but how else could he have acted? He didn’t know. He hated how things had went. He should’ve lied and told Derek he didn’t have the time for breakfast.

So, when Spencer finally got the hotel, he sat and thought and waited, waited for any sounds outside of his hotel door. Derek’s room was directly across the hall from his. So he waited for the sounds of the door opening, the beeping of the keycard, the sound of footsteps that were muffled by the soft carpet. Anything that would show Derek was back, back close to him, close enough to him for a conversation again. Because he knew that they needed to talk.

Spencer was counting. One hour and eighteen minutes passed before he heard any sounds of life that would match what he was waiting for. Namely, he heard the footsteps approach by his door, and then the beep of the keycard. And finally, the door opening and shutting quickly. Derek was there, he was back, Spencer got off his perch on the bed in record speed, exiting out to the hall and crossing quickly.

He was about to knock on the door, hand raised in the air, before he slowed himself down. Was this too much? What if Morgan didn’t want to talk to right now? What if Derek thought he was lying and was mad? Oh god, that terrified Spencer. He hoped Derek knew he wasn’t lying, he could run any behavior test he wanted to, but he wouldn’t lie to Derek. Not now, not ever.

Spencer still had his hand raised in the air, standing directly in front of the door. If Derek thought he was lying, he would prove he wasn’t. Nothing mattered right now, Spencer decided as he took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Spencer heard movement from inside the room, before Derek opened the door. He looked stressed, the lines in his face were hard set, this was how he looked when he dealt with an unsub. This isn’t how he should be looking on a day off. Derek said nothing as he looked at Spencer, “Can we talk?” Spencer asked him after it was clear Derek wasn’t going to start talking.

Derek nodded. Wordlessly opening the door more, and stepping back to allow Reid inside. He stepped in, Derek’s room was a mirror copy of Spencer’s, simple and small. He had his duffel sat on the floor by the small twin bed provided by the hotel.

Reid stood in the room, Derek moved past him to sit down on the edge of the bed as Spencer messed with some loose thread on his jacket, “I, um... I got your change..” Spencer started, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the wad of cash and coins. He wasn’t sure what to say now that he was inside Derek’s room. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, so he wasn’t sure how to prepare. Derek wasn’t acting like himself, so he didn’t know what would work.

Spencer went to hand it back to him, “Reid, no.” Derek started, causing Spencer to stop in his tracks, holding the money in silence.

“You didn’t come here for that.” Derek motioned to the money with his hand. “No. I didn’t.” Spencer mumbled awkwardly, shoving it back into his jacket pocket, the coins clinking together all too loudly for his liking.

“I’m sorry.” Derek sighed after a moment, “I shouldn’t have ran off like that. It’s just- I couldn’t believe what you were saying.” Spencer nodded, he wanted to say so much to Derek. He wanted to say, “I swear on my mother I am not lying”, he wanted to say “I’m sorry, I should have stayed quiet” he wanted to say “I care about you so much and I don’t want to see you walk away, I don’t want to lose you”. But Spencer couldn’t talk, he wasn’t sure what would come out if he spoke.

“I, uh, I called Melissa.” Derek told him, “After I left. I called her, I asked her if she said that to you, and she said she didn’t say it like that,” He took a breath before continuing on, “I asked her what she meant, because she wasn’t denying what she said. She just was saying the wording was off.”

Spencer found his small, awkward voice, deciding to look down at the floor instead of Derek. He was scared of what he would see. “What did she say the wording was?” He asked Derek, “She said she was harsher than that, told you to back off. Then she tried to explain herself, as if any of what she did was acceptable and could be fine under the disguise of caring for your significant other.”

“Reid, look at me. Please.” Derek sighed, not continuing whatever else he was going to say. Spencer finally looked up to meet his eyes. Derek just looked tired, leaning awkwardly on the couch, as he kept his gaze on Spencer.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause this.” Spencer apologized, he had no clue if he needed to. But it felt like what he had to do.

“No, don’t.” Derek shook his head, as if to knock the apology out of his brain. “Thank you for telling me. Thank you. The red flags were there, Reid. And there were so many. I was just ignoring them.”

Spencer stayed quiet, watching Derek as he admitted this out loud; “I just- I wanted to make it work. But the fact she said that to you, and was gonna tell garcia, I just-“ Derek shook his head again, a mixture of defeat and anger simultaneously now instead of a signal for reid to stop.

“It upset me. I couldn’t believe it. So I called her and that happened and... and...” Derek trailed off, sighing simply as if that was the end of the sentence.

“...You broke up?” Spencer asked carefully, not wanting to misjudge. Derek nodded, rubbing his face with both hands. He was stressed. Spencer could tell.

“We did. It’s for the best. I can’t be dating someone who is like that. Especially not to you, or Garcia. That’s the biggest deal breaker out there.” Derek spoke, he was still serious but he was also sort of joking in a way to help calm the atmosphere down.

Spencer didn’t respond right away, instead moving to sit down on the edge of the bed, a few feet away from Morgan to give him plenty space. Derek didn’t like that, pulling on Spencer’s hand and motioning him to sit directly by his side.

Spencer complied, but cursed his face for causing a blush to form. This wasn’t the time to savor the feeling of Derek’s strong grip on his hand. It wasn’t.

Spencer was now sat down next to Derek, he wasn’t sure what else to say, so he stayed quiet. But he knew he didn’t want to leave Derek’s side now. He needed to be here. It couldn’t be easy for Derek.

“I’m sorry I left you at the restaurant.” Derek spoke after a while of them sitting side by side. “It’s okay,” Spencer told him, Derek gave him a sideways glance that proved he didn’t believe what he was saying.

“I didn’t end up having breakfast, though. I was worried.” Spencer admitted. Derek let out a low chuckle, and god, Spencer loved that sound. When was the last time he heard it? It used to be as common as hearing traffic in downtown Quantico, but as of lately; he hadn’t heard it often. Spencer knew in the back of his head, it was probably Melissa. Small things had changed with Derek during their time of dating.

First, it was calling Spencer “pretty boy”, and Garcia “baby girl”. Derek stopped saying it, and as much as garcia was worried about him, Derek had assured her he was okay. (Spencer didn’t mind the nickname stopping, as he finally didn’t have to come up with an excuse every time he blushed in front of the team when Derek would call him that.)

But then, Derek showed up to work looking tired, and sure- the job took long hours and restless nights and way too many coffee breaks. But he looked like he was losing that energy in his eyes. The excitement that made him join the team. He had told Spencer it was originally he missed Melissa. But now, Spencer was second guessing that.

Things had slowly changed with Derek, so small that Spencer didn’t even notice fully. But if you looked at all the reasons why he changed, it could be tied back to Melissa.

Good riddance. Spencer thought to himself. In ordinary situations, he would hate to think that, but today he didn’t; as he heard Derek’s soft, low chuckle. He didn’t want to ever stop see Derek being himself. He wouldn’t stop him from anything, he knew he wouldn’t. All he would want to do is care about him, kiss him, fall asleep in his arms, have a nice dinner with him- things a real boyfriend would do.

He would let Derek be himself, he wouldn’t stop him from working, he wouldn’t want to fight, he wouldn’t want to play games, and god knows he wouldn’t stop Derek and Garcia flirting. That’s what kept them happy, together, and secure.

“I’m sorry you guys broke up, but if it’s any consolation. You belong with someone better.” Spencer admitted, not adding on the last part he always wanted to say. If he could say it, lord knows he would. But he couldn’t tell Derek they belonged together. He sounded insane.

Derek softy bumped shoulders with him in an act of thanks, “Thank you. Now c’mon, let’s go get you some real breakfast, pretty boy.” He said as he stood up, the blush immediately rushed back into Spencer’s face. God, that name would be the death of him. He was seriously going to die like this.

“You still got my change? ‘Cause you’re paying.” Derek joked with him as he turned to pull on his coat, “It’s your money, why don’t I give it back to you?” Spencer asked him, the conversation now changing to a much lighter tone. Derek shrugged, “You paying a cashier will help your people skills. Now c’mon, I saw a good restaurant with outdoor seating that’s by a garden. You can give me plant facts while we eat.”

“...Oh, I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night. I’m the one who makes you laugh when you know you’re ‘bout to cry. And I know your favorite songs and you tell me ‘bout your dreams. Think I know where you belong, think I know it’s with me...”

Derek’s growing love for Spencer Reid was so slow he didn’t realize it until it was bursting out of his chest. It wasn’t obvious, it wasn’t, at least not to Derek. But suddenly it was everything Spencer did, it had his attention and captivated his thoughts. If Spencer was rambling about something, Derek would listen. Even if he didn’t care, even if he was tired, or hungry, or even mad.

To put it simply, it was every single thing that Spencer had ever done for him, suddenly making Derek feel something. It was every little funny thing Spencer did, it was every factoid he spat out to the team at the round table, it was how he was there for everyone in less than a second if needed, it was how Spencer complained about modern television, it was how Spencer grumbled in his sleep when they had to wake him up to get off the team’s jet after a long case. It was everything.

Every one of those instances just made something inside Derek squirm. Before, when Derek was dating Melissa- he was able to hold that feeling at bay. But it had now been months since his and Melissa’s breakup, and he had nothing to stop his mind from thinking about Reid, so the feelings and thoughts about the genius only grew stronger.

He thought about him nonstop. About how Reid was precious, amazing, handsome, smart, and god- he was borderline perfect. And what had originally started as a small inkling feeling inside of him was growing, growing into something almost unmanageable. It took everything in Derek not to just lean over and grab the genius’ hand as he was waving it around when speaking about something he was passionate about, and holding it tightly.

It was getting worse, day by day it was hell at work. But it was the best suffering in the world. Seeing Spencer sat at his desk, deep in thought as he typed reports out, along with emailing scientists and doctors on the side. God, Reid was an absolute genius. Morgan wasn’t sure if he could easily get over that fact anymore as he used to. Now Spencer’s smarts had more meaning, and he wasn’t sure why.

Spencer’s smarts always mattered, and definitely came in handy for the team, saving their asses more than once. But now, his IQ level was something Derek caught himself almost worrying about.

Spencer wouldn’t ever say it, but what if he thought Derek was stupid? The brawn to his brain. Nothing more than a dude to tackle the bad guys and handcuff them down. What if Spencer thought he wasn’t a good person, a good friend?

Now, along with the growing admiration, he also had growing fear. Derek was now going back and forth between doubting himself and wanting nothing more than pulling Spencer into a janitors closet and kissing him until they needed air.

Yeah, Derek was screwed. Work was painful. But he wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t. Even if he wanted to, he kept going along, because every day he saw Reid that feeling inside him only grew, and he didn’t have the willpower to stop it, and even if he did- he probably couldn’t. This was the strongest he had ever felt in a long time. It would take an army to stop how he felt (and even then, he might still beat the army).

The night it all went down wasn’t what derek intended it to be, he was pretty much planning on hiding his crush on reid to the grave, not admitting it to anyone ever about how he felt. Because as Derek saw it, Spencer was too smart for him. Definitely out of his league.

Because in Morgan’s mind, how dumb could he be? He had been slowly falling in love with his best friend, all while not even realizing it- and dating someone who was absolutely horrid during that entire process. It was enough to make him smack his head against his wall.

Derek was working late the night it happened, going over this same dilemma in his head as he finished up the last of his reports to turn over to Hotch.

Nothing was happening in the bullpen, and for the first time in forever, Spencer had left before the work day ended. He had been complaining of a stomachache, and Rossi had smartly deduced he was sick, and even though Reid didn’t want to leave- the team all but kicked him out the door, telling him he wasn’t any good working when feeling like vomiting.

Derek had missed him since he left, he felt stupid admitting that, but it was the plain and simple truth. His days were just better with Reid, and there was no other explanation than that. As stupid as it was, Derek had come to agree with that fact a while ago, and now it was just normal, him missing Reid. But thankfully Reid didn’t leave often enough for it to be bad.

That being said, Derek still worried. Deciding to call Reid, it was only 7 p.m., after all. Surely Reid was still awake.

His cell phone ringed as Derek held it up to his ear, twirling his pen absentmindedly between his index and pointer finger as he waited for Spencer to answer.

And he did, he sounded groggy, but he answered; “Hello?” “Hey, Reid.” Derek spoke, a small stupid smile creeping its way into his face. “How are you feeling?” He asked, he heard Spencer shuffling on the other end of the line, then the faucet running.

“I’m okay... just really dizzy now, so I got myself some water.” “Did you eat enough today?” Derek asked him, changing tones from a concerned friend to something more.

“Yes, I did. You don’t need to worry about my eating.” Reid said simply, he wasn’t the type of guy who liked being watched over. Derek understood why, but this was still necessary.

“Reid, c’mon now. When was the last time you ate?”

“11:23 a.m., Garcia gave me a muffin.” Spencer admitted after a beat of silence, “Reid, you’ve been not eating for almost eight hours- no wonder you felt so sick, man!” Derek said into the phone as he stood up, shrugging his jacket onto his shoulders, deciding to leave now. The reports were almost done, anyway.

“Well, I’m not hungry so it’s fine..” Reid argued weakly in response, “Oh no, no. Don’t even, Spencer. I’m getting you food and taking it to your place. Now go lay down and take some tylenol, drink that water you got.”

Spencer huffed weakly, but made no move to argue or protest Morgan inviting himself over. “Fine. Please get me chicken noodle soup.”

As agreed, Derek got Spencer some chicken noodle soup from a great nearby deli Spencer had told him about a while ago. Derek was proud of himself for this choice in food, even if Spencer had requested soup, he hadn’t requested where. And Derek felt smart for remembering one of Spencer’s favorite places.

Derek arrived to Spencer’s apartment, the door was left unlocked so he came in, carrying the container of soup in both of his hands, so he pushed the front door shut gently with his foot.

“Hey, Reid. I’m here,” he called out into the apartment, as he made his way to the bedroom, finding a sleeping Spencer on the bed, covered in a few miscellaneous blankets to keep him warm.

Derek sat the container of soup onto the nearby bedside table, next to spencer’s near empty water glass, before looking down at reid.

Spencer was perfect, regardless if he was awake or asleep. But asleep he was so peaceful, so calm. Derek could so easily keep Spencer safe from everything in his sleep, hold him in his arms and help ground him. He knew Spencer got nightmares, everyone on the team did. But he knew if he was there, he could help, he could make it better.

Spencer was breathing softly, his face looked slightly flushed, and his hair was all over the place, some strands had fallen onto his face directly, which Derek gently pushed out of the way to get a better look at Spencer.

“Mmm..” Spencer mumbled in his sleep, a response to Derek touching him, Derek took a sharp breath in. God, he wanted to just tell Spencer right now he felt, he so badly did. And Spencer was asleep, what was stopping him? He could say it and Spencer wouldn’t remember. Because unlike conscious Spencer, unconscious Spencer didn’t remember things.

So before his brain could catch up to his body, he did. “I love you.” He told Spencer softly, it was barely above a whisper. It was so quiet he was sure Spencer didn’t hear it at all, but it was just Derek’s unfortunate luck that Spencer started to stir.

“Hm?” He asked, sitting up slowly, Derek pulled his hand away from where he had tucked the strand of hair away.

“I said, I brought you soup.” Derek lied easily, hoping that “I love you” and “I brought you soup” were interchangeable sounding sentences. Spencer just nodded, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes slowly as he turned to look at the container on his bedside table

He didn’t suspect anything, Derek let a breath of relief out internally as Spencer reached for the container. “It didn’t come with a spoon, so I’ll go get you one.” Derek told him, getting up to go back into Spencer’s kitchen and grab a spoon from the silverware drawer.

When Derek came back, Spencer was more awake, holding the container of soup in his hands expectantly as he waited. Derek handed him the spoon wordlessly, before sitting down on the bed next to Spencer. “How are you feeling?” Derek asked him, as Spencer hadn’t tried out the soup yet (he was waiting for it to cool a bit more.) “Tired- sorry I left, by the way.” Reid responded slowly, he still felt the tiniest bit groggy.

Derek shook his head, “No Reid, don’t apologize. Are you feeling any better?” Spencer nodded slowly in response, starting to stir the soup to help it cool down. Derek watched him, the soft light from the only lamp on in the room casted off shadows throughout the walls and onto Spencer. He looked beautiful, even if he was wearing pajamas and his hair was messy and he was stirring his soup while half awake.

To Derek, he looked perfect. And once again, Derek’s body moved too fast for his brain to catch up with. He was suddenly talking; “Reid, can I tell you something?” He asked the tired genius, who just nodded and gave an “Mhm” sound in return as he continued to stir his soup.

Derek breathed in, he couldn’t go back. It was now or never. He turned to face Spencer, and if he hated him after this, so be it.

“I was an idiot, Spencer. When I was with Melissa, searching for a good moment to stay happy about was rare. But the entire time I’ve known you, everything’s been a good moment. Every opportunity I’ve had with you has let me grow and become smarter, and a better person..” he took a second to look back at Spencer, who was now looking at him with an expression he couldn’t read.

“But I’ve still been stupid. Because the entire time I was with her, I only looked forward to being with you. I missed the best thing right in front of me, and I hope you know that I am not normally this dense... but..” this was the hardest part of his whole speech, how the fuck was he supposed to admit something like this?

“But,” he started again, “I like you, Reid. I really like you. This entire time I was chasing the wrong person and following dead leads, like a rookie on a new case. But I realize the only person that makes me feel anything is you- and... I think, I- no. I am. I am falling for you. And I don’t even know if you like guys but-“ It was by this point Spencer put his soup down back on his bedside table, the soft sound shut Derek up easily.

“You’re falling for me?” Spencer asked, just simply clarifying what he had said. Morgan nodded, standing by it. “Yes. I am.”

Spencer breathed out a sigh of relief, something Derek hadn’t expected him to do. “You aren’t stupid... I- um. I’ve been falling for you too.”

That made Derek light up instantly, “You have?” Spencer nodded sheepishly, staring down at his fingernails instead of Derek. “I wasn’t expecting you to...” Spencer mumbled, as if that was a sufficient enough explanation on his part on why he was relieved and surprised.

“It just snuck up on me. I can’t get you out of my head, you’re all I want.” Derek admitted, more brashly than he would’ve liked to phrased things. But that didn’t seem to bother Spencer at all, as he started to lean forward slowly, Derek leaned forward too, reaching up to put his hand on the side of Spencer’s face to help him stay steady. Their lips were inches apart, but Spencer spoke. “Derek, I want to kiss you so bad. But if I’m sick I don’t want to risk infecting you-“

“Pretty boy, I’m breathing your air already. And I don’t think you have the flu, just low blood sugar.” Derek told him, which quickly shushed Reid up. They leaned forward more, and all the feelings of angst and dread that had built up between the two disintegrated as their lips touched slowly.

It was a soft kiss, a chaste one. But there definitely was passion behind it. Morgan stayed close to Spencer, resting his forehead against his.

“I belong with you...” Derek mumbled, he didn’t care if Spencer heard it anymore. He should hear it, he deserved to hear it. He deserved to know he was the only one Derek wanted.

Spencer pulled back, a small smile playing on his lips the entire time. “I can’t believe it...” he mumbled to Derek after a moment. “You should. You said it yourself, I belong with someone better. And it’s you. I just hope you agree.” Derek told him honestly, not leaving anything he said to chance. Spencer nodded, “Yes- you belong with me. Absolutely, yes. I agree.”

Derek smiled, pushing a loose strand of hair back behind spencer’s ear, before leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on Spencer’s forehead. “You eat that soup, I’ll go get you some more water.”

———————————————————————

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chibi-n00b · 3 years

Text

Until Daybreak, Chapter 1: Trick or Treat

For @phmonth2021‘s Pandoratober 2021 event.

I'm taking some of (if not hopefully all) the individual prompts and having them all flow into one story. Hopefully, it ends up somewhat cohesive.

This fic is also posted on AO3

Day 1: Trick or Treat

“Trick or Treat!” Ada chirped as Gil opened the door. Oz had been taking her trick-or-treating around the neighborhood that Halloween night, and this was their last stop. All dressed up in her little witch costume, she held up her plastic jack-o’-lantern for Gil to put some candy in.

“Oh, I like your costume, Ada,” Gil said, shoveling a handful of candy out of his nearly empty bowl. Gil was their next-door-neighbor and had babysat them when Oz was a kid. He was also one of Oz’s teachers at the high school. “You guys been having fun?”

“Oh, yeah,” Oz said with a nod as he held up the tote bag they’d been dumping Ada’s candy into throughout the night so she could keep going door-to-door without running out of room in her pumpkin. “We hit up all the houses with the big candy bars.”

“Good, just don’t stay out too late. You have a test in class tomorrow, remember?”

“I know, I know. We’re heading home now,” Oz said, waving Gil off. He was such a nag sometimes. “Come on, Ada. Let’s go check out your haul.”

“Yeah!”

They walked through the front door to find Uncle Oscar sitting on the couch and watching TV. “Hey,” he called, getting up to pull them into a hug. “How was trick-or-treating?”

“Good,” Ada said, walking to the kitchen with her little jack-o’-lantern swinging beside her. Her cat Dinah weaved between her legs as it trailed after her. “We got lots of candy.”

“I can see that,” Oscar said, eyeing the tote Oz carried as they followed Ada into the kitchen. Oscar dug a big bowl out of one of the cabinets, and Ada and Oz proceeded to fill it with all the sweets. Chocolates and lollipops and gummy worms and the occasional pack of fruit snacks. Oh, and a toothbrush from the dentist down the street.

They each took a handful of their favorites—Ada, ever the sweetheart, was letting Oz have some for helping carry it all home—when Uncle Oscar said, “Now, don’t go too crazy with the candy. You can have some, just remember you have school in the morning.”

“Okay!” They turned on the kitchen TV just in time to watch the opening credits of Hocus Pocus.

They sat at the table, eyes fixed on the glowing screen, eating away at the candy supply. The witches were about to be brought back when Oz glanced over to find his sister asleep at the table, head resting on her arms, hat sitting slightly askew atop her head.

“Okay, little witch,” Oz said softly, hoisting her into his arms, “I think it’s time for bed.”

He carried her upstairs and tucked her into bed, hanging her witch hat on one of the bed posts. Usually, he’d have woken her up to make sure she at least brushed her teeth, but skipping just one night wouldn’t hurt. Halloween only happened once a year after all, and who knew how many more they’d have together before she felt she was getting too old for it.

Oz leaned down and gave her a kiss on the head before turning out the light. “Good night, Ada,” he said, leaving the door cracked as Dinah slid into the room to curl up at the foot of the bed.

Heading back to the kitchen, Oz eyed the bowl of candy for a moment. It was only ten o’clock. He still had a little time before bed. Still feeling a bit hungry, he scooped a few of his favorites that Ada wasn’t partial to into a smaller bowl and went to the den to finish the movie.

He ate the bowl clean, and it wasn’t too long before he started nodding off himself. The exhaustion finally set in after the long day. He pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped himself up like a burrito, getting comfortable as he settled in to finish the movie. He decided to shut his eyes for a few minutes, sure that he wasn’t going to fall asleep.

The next thing he knew, the clock struck midnight and the floor was covered in candy wrappers. He turned off the TV and caught the faint sound of Dinah meowing from somewhere in the house under the sound of the TV in the front room and the snuffles of Uncle Oscar snoring.

Must’ve forgotten to refill her automatic feeder, he thought blearily as he crumpled up the wrappers in his hands.

He headed to the kitchen and threw the wrappers in the garbage before turning to Dinah’s feeder to find it full. And she hadn’t even touched her food. He wasn’t just going to give her more when she still had plenty.

Where is that cat, anyway? Oz heard her still, but Dinah definitely wasn’t in the kitchen.

Shuffling his feet, he headed to the front of the house and found Uncle Oscar exactly where he thought he’d be. On the couch, remote held loosely in his hand, mouth agape as he sawed logs.

But still no cat.

Oz peered up the stairs. It was dark save for the soft orange glow of the nightlight they left on in the hallway so they could find their way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. But from the sound of it, Dinah’s cries were coming from somewhere on the second floor. And it gave Oz pause.

Wouldn’t Ada have woken up by now? The slightest squeak from that cat and she’d be up feeding her, playing with her, petting her. Even in the middle of the night.

He strained his ears to hear her voice, the creak of floorboards, the shuffle of feet. Maybe even the scratching of claws on the door if Oz had forgotten to leave it open. But there was nothing but the incessant mews.

All the alarm bells started sounding off in his head, and what felt like a rock landed in the pit of Oz’s stomach. Something was very wrong.

Oz took the stairs two at a time, the boards groaning under his feet and ran down the hall to Ada’s room.

“Ada?” he called, knocking on the slightly ajar door.

No answer.

The door opened slightly and Oz expected to see her little, cherubic face peering up at him. Instead, he saw Dinah’s furry head near the bottom of the door frame. She peered up at him with big, round eyes and meowed before disappearing back into the darkened room.

“Ada?” Oz pushed the door open and froze. His blood ran cold as he took in the room.

The window was open, the sheers fluttering on the cool night breeze and dead leaves finding their way inside. Dinah was leaning out the window, her wails being absorbed into the darkness of the night.

And instead of his sister sound asleep in her warm bed, it was empty and she was nowhere to be seen.

To be continued...

#pandoratober2021 #pandora hearts #ph #pandora hearts fanfic #halloween #oz vessalius #ada vessalius #fanfiction #fanfic #my fanfiction

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sunshinejihyun · 4 years

Text

Green Apples || Kiro

Author’s note: Look, this was supposed to be a cute simple Halloween fic but it turned into something much more. I’m not even mad about it though. Um this isn’t edited so if you see any mistakes, no you didn’t.

Summary: A stolen night with a masked stranger on Halloween leads to something more when you find out who’s behind that mask.

Warnings: some drinking

Word count: 5011

Masterlist

After filming had ended for the day, Kiki and Willow had grabbed your arm and pulled you out of your office and back to your apartment, ignoring your protests. “Guys, I still have work to get done!”

“Not on Halloween you don’t! It’s the first year my kids are old enough to be on their own and I’m partying. I need you guys there as my wing-women!” Anna reached into her leather top and pulled her bosom up, smiling at herself in the mirror before fluffing her hair. She was dressed as Catwoman, the leather and latex that was sticking to every single one of her curves made her look younger than she was. If you didn’t know her, you would have guessed her to be mid 20’s, not in her 30’s. “Now hurry up girls, your costumes are on the bed.” Kiki and Willow jumped off your twin bed and assessed the costumes before starting to discuss who would look better in what. Peering over their shoulders, you snuck a peak at the costumes. “I think Willow would look best in the Wonder Woman costume,” you quipped. They both turned around to hear your explanation, eyebrows raised in question. “Kiki and I are both short. Willow’s taller and her legs would look killer in that skirt with those thigh high boots she wore to the company’s Christmas party last year, let’s be honest.”

“Oh my gosh! Boss is right, Willow. You’ve gotta wear that, it’ll look so good!” Kiki pleaded, clasping her hands together and doing her best to pout at her friend.

“Well I can’t argue with my girls, can I?” Willow asked, reaching for the costume and started stripping from her work clothes. “Oh man, guess I won’t be breathing tonight.”

“We don’t need to breathe, we just need to look hot.” Anna turned from your makeup mirror and all three of you gasped at her. The dark smokey eye and bright red lipstick made her look even more pale than normal but the shimmer she had highlighting her cheekbones made her look extraordinary, like she was an ethereal being.

“Anna, you look amazing!” You exclaimed, dropping the costume you had in your hand. “Oh my gosh, I would never be able to tell you have two kids! I won’t be surprised if you leave the party with someone tonight.”

She winked and blew a kiss at you. “That’s the plan babe! Now come on, you guys need to get dressed!”

Glancing at Kiki, you saw her eyeing the Harley Quinn costume so you grasped the green costume. “I think you’ll look really good as Harley, Kiki. Willow and Anna can help do your makeup!”

Kiki took the costume into your small bathroom and you shrugged off your clothes. “Can someone help me zip?”

“Sure babes, come here.” Anna gestured for you to make your way over to where she was perched on your makeup table. Pulling the zipper up on the costume she squealed. “Your butt looks amazing in this costume. Definitely the best choice!”

You shrugged your shoulders, smoothing down the spandex covered with leaves. “I don’t even know who I’m supposed to be!”

“I’m not really sure either, all that matters is that you look hot!” You and Anna giggled and Kiki walked back into the room, twirling around in her costume.

“Kiki, you look amazing! Come here hun, let me do your makeup!” Willow gestured her over and Kiki skipped over puckering her lips obscenely and making Willow sigh out in annoyance. “Never mind, you can do it yourself.” She teased.

Anna wordlessly started to dab a pinky-orange lipstick on your lips and you sat down, letting her get to work. “And…” Anna brushed something on your cheeks, stepped back, and grinned down at her work. “Perfect!”

Turning to look in the mirror, your jaw dropped. The makeup she had done made it so you didn’t even look like yourself. You looked sexy, like someone you’d see in a magazine, or at least on TV.

“Boss! You look amazing!” Kiki yelled out, running over and wrapping her arms around you, careful to not smudge either of your makeup. “We all look amazing. We all better be leaving tonight with a man or woman on our arms or so help me God, I’ll give up on love forever!”

“Don’t be so dramatic!” Willow threw her hair over her shoulder. “Now ladies, are we ready to go?”

Anna handed each of you a mask that would cover your eyes, but not one of the lame plastic ones, these were each individually gorgeous, made to go with your costumes. They were lined lace, gemstones, and colors that complimented the outfits. The masks mixed with everyone's smokey eyes and bright lips really brought every costume together and brought butterflies to your stomach. Despite originally not wanting to go, you actually found yourself looking forward to a night off work with the girls.

The party was already in full swing by the time you and the girls entered the bar. The bass was vibrating the floor and purple lights were flashing in time to the beat of the music. Anna left your side almost immediately, blowing a kiss in your group's direction before setting her sights on who you can only assume was a handsome man in some scrubs and a plague doctor’s mask.

“Well, she wasted no time,” Willow observed, grabbing her beer off the bar and taking a short drink.

Kiki suddenly stopped in her tracks. “I. Love. This. Song!” Each word was enunciated and she tugged on Willow’s arm excitedly. “Come dance with me, Boss can hold our drinks.” Kiki shoved her drink in your hand and dragged Willow away, leaving you alone near the bar, two drinks in your hand but neither of them yours.

Watching them dance from the sideline had you smiling, they were never like this at work and it was wonderful to see both of them having the time of their lives. It almost made you forget that you weren’t out there, but your attention was pulled away from them quickly when someone came and stood by you.

“So many people to kill, so little time, huh?” Your skin prickled when the voice filtered through your ears and you turned to face the man, coming face to face with him. He was so close to you that you could smell sour apple candy on his breath.

“Excuse me?” Your eyebrows raised and you took a step back.

“It’s uh, it’s a line that Poison Ivy says to Batman in one of the Batman and Robin films!” The man exclaimed, reaching under his black mask to scratch an itch on his face. “I thought it’d be a good opener because I’m dressed as Batman and you’re dressed as Poison Ivy. We’re supposed to be nemeses but I don’t think I could fight someone as pretty as you.”

Despite not knowing who was speaking to you, you found your cheeks flushing and you were grateful for the lights in the bar flashing bright colors, it was easier to hide the rouge starting to form. “Sorry,” you laughed and closed the distance between you and your new acquaintance once more. “I’m not actually a fan, my friend picked out the costumes.”

“Which one? Harley Quinn or Wonder Woman?” You wished you could see more of this man’s face that was hidden under a dark mask. He was charming and his piercing eyes felt like they were reaching in your soul and spreading warmth and happiness within.

“Wow, you do pay attention. Neither, my friend dressed as Catwoman picked them out. I think her goal was to find the tightest outfits in the store, and in which case she definitely succeeded.” You took a drink of Willow’s beer, she wasn’t around and it’d probably be gross by the time she came back anyway.

“Of course I paid attention when the most gorgeous woman I’ve seen walked in.”

“That was such a line.” You rolled your eyes, a smile playing on your lips and the guy burst out laughing.

“I know! I can’t believe you thought I was serious. I just wanted to see if you were someone who fell for cheesy lines like that!” His smile was gorgeous and the sound of his laugh stirred up butterflies in your stomach. It’s been forever since you met someone who made you feel like this. “Do you want to dance?” He held out his hand, head tilted towards the dance floor and without thinking too much, you set down the drinks you were holding and grasped his hand.

He pulled you into the middle of the crowd and spun you around before pulling you close, so close that you both were chest to chest, and started moving his hips, your usually uncoordinated body easily following in his lead. “Wow, you’ve got some moves!” The music was louder than it was by the bar and you couldn’t tell if he had actually heard you, but he had a smile settle on his lips.

After dancing to a few songs, he led you back to the bar. “I’m gonna get a water, you want anything?”

Raising your eyebrows in question, you settled on the barstool next to him. “Not drinking tonight?” He shook his head no. “Alright, one water for me too please.”

“Thanks,” the guy told the bartender when he set down the two bottles in front of the both of you. “So,”

“I usually don’t make a habit of dancing with people I don’t even know.” You laughed, gulping down some water. “I don’t know what came over me, it’s like you’re intoxicating.”

“Believe it or not, you’re not the first to say that to me!” The guy leaned in, resting his hand on your thigh. Normally, you’d shy away from a touch like that but after being pressed up against his hard body for the past 7 songs on the dance floor, this touch seemed more innocent than before. “I’ve never connected with someone like this before.”

“Boss!” Kiki came running up, cheeks flushed and dark red lipstick smudged. “Have you heard this song? It’s Kiro! Come with me, we all have to dance!”

You glanced at your current dance partner who rolled his eyes at the mention of Kiro. “Don’t tell me you’re a Kiro fangirl? I’d have to take back what I just said to you.”

“Kiki, I think I’ll sit this one out. You’ll just have to dance even harder with Anna and Willow to make up for it, but I’m sure you can do it!” Turning back to the man who was staring at you, an intense look in his eyes, you smiled. “I personally like Kiro’s music, but I don’t go crazy about him like some people. I honestly think he deserves some privacy to just be him. Everyone expects too much of someone who’s only 22.”

“I never thought of it that way. I just know some people who go crazy for him and… it makes me uncomfortable!” The man held his hand out to you once more. “Do you wanna go outside, get some air?”

You rationally knew that it wasn’t the smartest decision to go out on your own with a man you just met, but looking at him with the charming smile he had only used on you that night, you felt your heart make the decision before your head could catch up. “Absolutely.”

This time when you grabbed his hand, he squeezed it affectionately before interlacing your fingers. Your hand was sweaty and you wanted to pull away to wipe it off but he wouldn’t let you, instead just opting to hold on tighter.

The cold October air on your cheeks soothed you and helped cool your body temperature. Without thinking, you took off your mask and patted down the sweaty area that it was resting on. Turning towards the man, you saw he had stopped in his tracks, mouth slightly open, and was staring. “You’re beautiful.” He whispered, reaching out to brush a piece of your hair behind your ear.

Looking down at your feet, so small compared to him, you fought off a wide grin. “Yeah, sure. I’m sure I look great with makeup running down my face right now.”

“No seriously,” his hand reached under your chin to tilt your eyes to meet his. Although you hardly knew this man, you haven’t seen his full face, and you didn’t even know his name, there was something about him that made you feel so safe. Like being wrapped in a warm hug after being out in the cold for long hours. “To me, you are so beautiful.”

“You don’t even know me.” You whispered, your faces so close to one another. His blue eyes so clear in the night were searching your face, taking in the new features he hadn’t seen before.

“I don’t trust easily, but there’s something about you…” His eyes landed on your lips after glancing at them a few times before. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded and stood on your tiptoes, closing the small gap between the two of you. Despite not seeing him eat a piece of candy since you had met him earlier that night, he still tasted of green apple candy. He cupped your face so tenderly, like if he were to hold you a little too tight, you might break. He pulled back before pecking your lips once more. “Can you tell me who you are?” Your nose was still brushing his as you both tried to catch your breath.

“Promise me it won't change anything about tonight?” He took your hands and guided you to grip the fabric mask that’s been on his face since the moment he met you. “Please,”

“I promise,” his eyes were pleading and you felt yourself wanting to melt into his touch, to do nothing but reassure him that your connection was too strong now to care about who he was or what he looked like. “I can promise you that with my whole heart.” His hands, still covering your own, helped you grasp the mask, pulling it over his head. A shock of blond hair fell out of the dark fabric and when he brushed it out of his eyes, you gasped. “Kiro?”

“Shh,” his hands moved to cover your mouth but you quickly intercepted them and linked both of them with your own. Both of your masks were discarded on the cold ground, but they were forgotten. “No one can know I’m here.” “But-” you cut yourself off, stopping yourself from bombarding him with tons of questions. “I’m just-”

“Shit!” Kiro swore, ducking down to grab his mask off the ground. “That’s my agent. He will kill me if he sees me.” You saw the man Kiro was pointing at and he narrowed his eyes at the pair of you before starting to make his way over to the both of you. “I… I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I have to go. Umm… you know how to get a hold of me, so I hope I’ll get a message from you soon, Miss Ivy.” Kiro pressed a kiss to your cheek before taking a deep breath and running off.

“Excuse me miss, who was that guy you were just with?” Kiro’s agent approached you, an apprehensive look on his face.

You panicked and said the first thing that came to your mind. “My boyfriend. Who are you?”

“Oh, sorry, I guess I got the wrong person.” His agent distractedly walked off in the other direction and you sighed, heading back inside the bar.

As you were entering, you bumped into Anna, her arms wrapped around the man with the plague doctor mask that she was eyeing earlier. Now, his mask was off and your assumption was right, he was handsome. “Oh, hey babe!” She let go of him and stumbled over to you, throwing her arms around your neck. “You’re so pretty. I’m going to go home with this nice man his name is Brandon from the bar, so if I don’t show up to work on Monday tell the police that, preferably that cute one, Gavin. It’d be nice to be rescued by him.”

You glanced towards the man who held up his hands in surrender. “She’s got my address and number, she was gonna send it to you guys, I’ll make sure she sends it on our way over to my place.”

Nodding, you patted her head gently. “You be safe okay, sweetie? I’ll see you on Monday.” She pressed a kiss to the same cheek Kiro had kissed only a few moments earlier and you felt anger bubble in your chest. Your last physical touch from him was wiped away in a quick moment by a drunk friend. Selfishly, you never wanted to wash that cheek again, to always remember the moment; but even if it wasn’t still there physically, you had all the memories you had made with him that night.

After watching for a moment that they actually got in a cab, you headed back inside to find your other two friends. You found them where you left them, on the dance floor and grinding against two masked men. They looked tired now, and you didn’t hesitate to grab their attention. “Hey, I’m tired, want to head back to my place and we can have a sleepover?”

Kiki and Willow said their goodbyes to the two men they were with and followed you outside. “Boss, we thought you left with that cute Batman!”

You bit your lip and glanced at the place on the sidewalk where no longer than 20 minutes ago you were kissing Kiro. “Yeah, but he had to go home. It was really sudden.” Feeling your eyes prick with tears, you dug your nails in your palm to distract yourself. “I didn’t even give him my name.”

“Oh hun,” Willow linked her arm through yours, closing the Uber app on her phone. The car coming to pick you up would be there any second. “I’m sure you’ll run into him again. Loveland City isn’t that big.”

Glancing wistfully in the direction that Kiro had headed after kissing your cheek, you sighed out before climbing in the back of the silver car that had pulled up in front of you. “I hope so,”

The rest of the ride back to your apartment was quiet and you and Willow had to drag a sleepy Kiki into the elevator. The rest of the building was asleep except for you guys, and as soon as you all had changed into comfy clothes, you collapsed on your small bed and fell asleep in a tangle of limbs.

Monday morning, you showed up at work, your spirits still low. Even though you had only spent a few hours with Kiro, no one had ever made you feel the way he did and you longed to feel his soft hands pushing hair out of your face once more.

“BOSS! You are NEVER going to believe who just called and asked to be on the show!” Kiki rushed into your office, eyes wide and chest heaving.

Sighing, you turned away from your computer. “Who?”

“Kiro! Or, well technically, his agent called. But Kiro wants to be on the show!” Your heartbeat sped up at the thought of Kiro walking into the filming studio and seeing you for the first time since your shared moment. “His agent said that he used to watch the show growing up and wants to show his love for it. Please Boss, we HAVE to schedule him on the show.”

“I’m sure I can change a few things around to fit him on. When is he available?” You opened your calendar and waited for Kiki to continue.

“Next week?” She sheepishly smiled. “I kinda already booked him. I’m sorry, I was just so excited!”

You rolled your eyes at Kiki and fought to keep a smile off your face. “Okay, I will figure out a plan for a show with Kiro on it. Now shoo, go do your work!”

Kiki squealed excitedly and exited your office and as soon as you were sure she was out of earshot, you let out a very similar squeal. You only needed to get through 7 days and you would see Kiro again.

The following Monday, you didn’t stop at the office before going to the filming studio, instead opting to spend some extra time on your hair and makeup. You still looked nothing like you did halloween night, but you felt a little more put together and that was important on a day with so many unknowns. How would he react when he saw you? Would he be happy, or would he play it cool and pretend like he had never met you before?

You were so caught up in your own fantasies of Kiro pulling you into his arms and kissing your senseless in front of all the cast and crew that you bumped into a solid chest, a soft ‘oof’ escaping their mouth.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You bent down to pick up your papers that scattered everywhere and the person bent down as well, helping you gather them up.

“No it was my fault, I was looking at this comic and-” he cut himself off as your eyes met his own. “Wait a second, Poison Ivy? You work for Miracle Finder?”

“Yeah um, I’m actually the owner of the company?” Despite daydreaming up millions of scenarios where you ran into Kiro again, you didn’t think you would have physically run into him.

“I had no clue. Um, how are you?” He handed you the rest of your paperwork and when his fingers grazed your own, your whole body was on fire. He had such an affect on you, one you couldn’t even begin to describe. “You never messaged me.”

“I wanted to, believe me.” You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “I just wasn’t sure if it was a good idea since we’re going to be working together. And besides, I knew I was going to see you here eventually.”

“I’m really happy to see you,” Kiro admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Me neither,” you agreed, gesturing to an empty greenroom. Kiro went in first and you followed a few seconds later.

Kiro took your hands in his own and gazed steadily down at you, his blue eyes never wavering from your own. “I don’t have much to say, but I’ve never felt like this with anyone and I don’t even know your name. We only spent a few hours together but you made me feel more alive than performing on stage does. I want to get to know you, if you’d be willing to give me a chance.”

Reaching up to cup one of his cheeks in your hand, you stroked the soft skin and Kiro leaned into your touch. “I’d love that. I’d love to be able to see where this connection takes us. I feel like I’ve known you for years.” Kiro grinned and leaned closer to you, and you reached up and kissed him softly. “Green apple, again.”

His eyes widened and he looked panicked for a moment. “I’m sorry if you don't like it. I can start stealing sweets with a different flavor that has just been my favorite since I was a kid. I-”

You cut him off with another kiss. “No, it’s perfect. Very you.” Glancing at your watch you shooed him out of the room. “You were due in hair and makeup 5 minutes ago, but I’ll see you out while we’re filming.” Kiro went to leave but you grabbed his arm gently. “It’s MC, by the way. My name.” “MC,” he repeated it over and sent you one of the sweetest smiles you’ve seen from him yet. “Beautiful, just like you.”

Blushing, you pushed him in the hallway and waited for a few moments before checking to make sure the coast was clear and left, walking towards the filming crew. “Boss!” Kiki rushed up to you and you jumped at her voice. “Have you seen Kiro? He looks so cute today!” She paused for a second. “Come to think of it, he kinda looks like the guy you were with on Halloween. Ohmigosh! What if you kissed Kiro on Halloween, how crazy would that be?” You laughed to keep yourself from answering her. Kiki would freak out if she knew just how correct she was.

You were relieved when Willow called Kiki over to clarify a few things about shooting before it started. Kiro was already on scene, dressed in a tight black turtleneck with a red and black jacket over it. He looked good and you took that moment while he wasn’t paying attention to admire him, the way he stood so sure of himself, how his easygoing smile made everyone around him seem at ease.

Kiro caught your eye as you were looking him over and he grinned and winked at you before raising his hand in a wave. You blushed and waved back, his grin widening before turning back to the director.

“Did you find your Halloween mystery man?” Anna appeared at your elbow and you pushed your bangs back from your forehead. “I seem to remember some similarities between Kiro and that man, they look at you the same.”

“Yeah, I think I did.” You replied, not taking your eyes off the blond who was now talking to an animated Kiki. He looked a little nervous and you made your way up to them, gently squeezing Kiki’s shoulder. “Hey, I think someone in the film crew is looking for you, they need you to run an errand.”

Ignoring her protests, you turned Kiki in the other direction. “Maybe you’re the real superhero,” Kiro’s fingers brushed yours before pulling away. “Saving the superstar from crazed fangirls.”

“Nah, I’m not a superhero. Just someone who wants you all to herself.” You admitted and Kiro’s blush made your heart soar.

“Oh you do? So then, what do you say to having a little impromptu date after filming today. I have a secret base I like to go to, no one knows where it is, not even Savin.”

“I say, I’ll meet you outside afterwards.” You couldn’t keep the grin off your face and you were sure you looked ridiculous but you didn’t care. Kiro made you happy. “Filming’s gonna start any second,” you gestured to the camera crew finishing up positioning everything. “You’re gonna kill it, superstar.”

Moving to join Anna, Kiki, and Willow to watch the filming, Kiki started pestering you with questions about Kiro. “You looked so close to him that you could smell him. Boss, please please tell me what he smells like!”

Without thinking about it, you answered. “Green apples.” “Ask her what he tastes like.” Anna teased, nudging your side.

“BOSS! Did you lick Kiro?” Kiki grabbed your arm and Willow gently removed her hand from you. “Oh my god, did you bite him?”

“He’s obviously her Halloween mystery man, did you see how he looked at her?” Willow flipped her hair over her shoulder. “She kissed him.”

Flushing bright red, you lowered your voice to a whisper. “Yes, Kiro was the guy I met on Halloween, but please don’t make a big deal about it!” Kiki was speechless, her mouth was opening and closing like a fish, not sure of what to say. “And before you ask again, he also tastes like green apples.”

With that you walked off, going to sit in a greenroom to answer some emails and send Minor a list of things he needed to get done by the end of the week. Afterwards, your eyes felt heavy so you laid your head down on the couch and closed them, just for a few minutes.

You woke up to a gentle hand brushing hair from your face and whispering your name softly. “Wake up.”

Opening your eyes, you met clear sapphire ones and you immediately bolted up, heartbeat hammering in your chest. “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep for so long. Did I keep you waiting?”

Kiro’s hand moved down to cup your neck, his warm hand comforting on your skin. “Filming just ended. Your friends let me know you were in here.”

Standing up and stretching, your shirt rose above your pants and you flushed as you caught Kiro eyeing the bare skin there. “I just need to check in with everyone real quick and then I’m good to go. Are you okay waiting for a few moments?”

“I’d wait for like, 9 days for you. I did it once, I can do it again.” Kiro winked at you and walked you out of the greenroom. As you checked in with the crew, everything was under control and about to be wrapped up for the day so you made your way over to your three friends.

“I’m heading out, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Yeah, heading out with Kiro!” Willow sang out his name and the other two laughed at your blush. “Have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“I’m just glad that’s not Anna saying that,” you teased the older girl who snickered along with you.

Bidding your friends goodbye, you made your way to the doors, and Kiro was standing there waiting for you right where you had collided with him hours earlier. He held out his hand to you. “Ready to go?”

Glancing back once more at your friends, they gave your encouraging smiles and thumbs up and you looked at Kiro, meeting his eyes, before gripping his hand tighter than before. There was nothing you were more sure of in that moment than him. “Yeah, I am. Lead the way.”

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