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reiderwriter · 10 months ago

Text

Flirting with the FBI

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word count: 7.1k

Request: Hiiii!! This is my first time requesting anything on this app, but Spencer reid has me in a chokehold. So, I was thinking that the reader is the unsub, and she's like this very good hacker who keeps teasing the fbi cause she's bored or something so she keeps sending hints about who she is or where she is but they keep getting nothing on her. And all of this just keeps getting on Spencer's nerves. And so when Spencer finds her, she keeps teasing him and acting like a brat so he "disciplines" her and takes her roughly and maybe a bit of spanking???

Warnings: a lot tbh - mentions of case details, mentions of domestic violence and police brutality, reader is a possible target of a serial killer, bad tech skills from the writer who really couldn't be bothered to do anymore research than the actual CM writing team, rough Dom Spencer, brat reader, sexual innuendo, semi-public sexual play, spanking, dirty talk (good girl, brat etc.) fingering, raw sex/creampie, aftercare, slight dacryphilia (crying kink) and bimbofication.

A/N: My last fic was a heartwarming family fic, and now I'm back to being depraved. Apologies to anyone here for cute fluff 😭

Masterlist

You always thought hacking the FBI mainframe would be hard, but it's one of the easiest things you've done all week.

If they were going to sit around doing nothing while a serial killer ran around in their own backyard, then obviously, they needed a helping hand. Or a helping poem or two.

Getting into their security camera feed was just an added bonus.

You grabbed your bowl of popcorn and settled into your desk chair, clicking open the window to find which room exactly they would gather in to freak out together.

You made sure to get their attention, blacking out all the computers in the office as they ran to a backroom where a very distraught looking blonde woman was sat. She was evidently the go-to tech support of about six agents who quickly ran to her room to figure out what the issue was. It was show time.

“There once was a serial killer,

Who ate boys and girl both for his dinner,

He cut, diced and slashed,

Left the feds quite abashed,

So I leave this message to be clearer”

The poem scrolled onto their screen on a loop, flashing in and out quickly before you let the computer systems relax again.

You thought they'd panic, scramble for a pen or paper or something, but none of the agents moved until the flashing was over.

You watched curiously as an older man took charge of the scene, likely directing the woman at the desk to figure out who you were, where you lived, and what your social security number was. She got to work quickly, and he moved on to the other agents.

None of them had written the poem down. None had even taken a picture, but one man started talking, and for a while, all eyes and attention in the room were focused solely on him. His hands moved as his mouth did, as if he were casting a spell over the room as he spoke. Even more intriguing was the fact that he rarely seemed to make eye contact with any of them as he spoke. He wasn't conversing or giving directions. He was simply talking.

And you really wanted to listen in.

The younger man began to walk and you watched him quickly pace over to a whiteboard, switching from one feed to another as he made his way there, and pick up a pen before notating the poem perfectly.

Whoever this man was, he was making you feel more and more excited about the game of cat and mouse you had begun with the FBI. You weren't entirely sure if he was to be the cat or the mouse, though.

A few days later, they'd seemingly lost the motivation to work, so you again did their job for them.

With another accompanying limerick to help them along, of course.

“There once was a bullpen full of agents,

Who thought they were very surveillant,

But a simply code crack,

And there system did hack,

A young girl who lived quite adjacent.”

This time, you let the words linger on the screen longer, as you slipped your information into their files, leaving more bread crumbs they could follow to the real villain.

The Agent - Doctor, you had since learned - took up his pen once again and scribbled your first poem next to your most recent.

Doctor Spencer Reid. An IQ of 187, three PhDs and however many Bachelor's Degrees, a member of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, and, as you could somehow tell from the grainy security footage, incredibly attractive man.

He was calm, again talking with his hands as he notated, again drawing the rooms attention like he was the sun and everything needed to orbit him to sustain life. You wondered what it would be like to fluster him.

Typing something out quickly, you broke back into the FBI system. It was risky doing it again so soon again, knowing that their tech analyst was already actively hunting you down, cyber-wise. But you couldn't resist.

“The tall, dark and handsome employee,

How I do wish that he could enjoy me,

I would gladly submit,

we match wit for wit,

But he's trying his best to arrest me.”

The BAU team stood silent on the camera before the two women on the team burst into rambunctious laughter. The camera feed was archaic, black and white, and grainy to boot, but even you couldn't miss the red stain against Doctor Spencer Reid's cheeks. A bonus was the other gentlemen subtly posturing, trying to figure out exactly which of them was “tall, dark, and handsome.”

The payoff for that poem was so great that over the course of the next few days, you kept serenading him with love poems among your quick hints about the actual crime being committed.

You'd first suspected the man of being dangerous when you'd seen the state of his wife. 19 domestic disturbance calls in two months, 0 arrests, and 1 very cushy job as a police detective. You'd done some simple computer programming for your local precinct, inputting data from cases into an algorithm that helped track everything easier, so you'd been intimate with cases that he'd handled.

A pattern had emerged, a series of murders of “undesirables,” people the city didn't care about when alive and certainly didn't have the resources to allocate to after their deaths. Prostitutes, the homeless, and runaway foster kids. All missing or dead, all cases handled by the same officer. The officer that lived next door to you and was one beer away from beating his wife into submission 5 days a week.

After your third 911 call, you'd been notified of your contract termination with the precinct. After the tenth, you noticed parole cars driving by every hour.

By call number 19, you were sure it was a miracle he hadn't tried to have you arrested.

So you turned back to the FBI to see what they could do about a man who treated his wife, and basically everyone else, like scum of the earth.

“Please don't get sidetracked by my hacking,

I'm a good girl, your team I am backing,

the killer, you see,

Is right now hunting me,

You're the ones who can do better tracking.”

You watched the tension snap back into place in the office as, for the first time, Spencer Reid was silent at your message. They all got back to work quickly, going over the files you'd dropped in their servers.

That night, Spencer Reid stayed in the office late, reading through piles and piles of files and looking for the connection he needed. You watched in pity, feeling almost guilty that you'd placed this burden on him instead of just approaching them honestly. But you'd called the police before, and it hadn't worked, so getting attention anyway you could was the only way to go.

You watched for so long that you began noticing his small habits. Each time you sensed frustration, he would run a hand through his hair and tug it slightly. When he found something, he leaned in closer to the page, as if his proximity to the words would make them clearer. Finally, he stood and began clearing his files. But you weren't quite ready to sign off yet, the shouting already beginning in the apartment next to yours, so you quickly typed out the first thing that came to mind to get him to stay.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,

Who I simply and truly just need,

I would lie on my back,

And then let him attack,

Any inch of my body with his seed.”

He fumbled the files in his haste to remove your words from his screen, from every screen now in the building, face awash with embarrassment as he looked around for some sign that no one witnessed your words.

Luck was not to be had as the tech analyst - Penelope Garcia - came shooting out of her office to join him in the near empty bullpen, and the older team leader - Aaron Hotchner - also looked out over the bannister from his office as they bore witness to your seduction.

You were driving Spencer Reid crazy.

He'd spent the last two weeks tracking down a serial killer who may or may not exist based on the word of a set of limericks delivered to the BAU through illegal means that had begun unabashedly flirting with him.

This latest limerick was his last straw.

“The cameras are how I can see you,

I do find myself enjoying the view,

His hair is so fine,

I wish he was mine,

The agent with more PhDs than two.”

“Another score, pretty boy, it was about time someone noticed your good looks instead of your brain for once.” Morgan patted him on the shoulder, barely containing his glee and laughter.

“She's watching us through security feed, and that's all you have to say?” he grumbled, writing out this limerick again, the words to the others burned into his brain. “She's playing with me.”

“It sure sounds like she'd enjoy doing just that,” Emily laughed from her desk, “but I think she might be right, Spencer. Every case file she's given us has suspicious activity on it. They're all unsolved, but the victims aren't linked.”

“He's crossing race and gender boundaries, but he's hitting undesirables.”

They had a case because of you. It didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy handcuffing you and putting you in a cell once this was all finished.

“WE'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE,” Penelope shouted from her office, to no avail. If it was at one computer, it was on all of them.

“The agents grew closer by day,

As the killer wanted to escape,

He paced across the floor,

As I watched by his door,

Getting closer than the agents could say.”

He paused then for a second, thinking through each of the limericks in turn and the panic began.

“Closer than… Emily, the officer that took in all of the cases, what was his name?”

“Officer Falstaff, why?”

“I think he might be our killer. And I think he knows she's on to him, or if he doesn't, he will soon.” He stood suddenly, grabbing a file and sprinting to Penelope’s office, Emily and Morgan trailing close behind.

“Spencer, wait-”

“No time. If we want them both alive, we have to move now.”

Throwing the door to Penelope’s room open, he didn't even bother with niceties.

“Can you get her a message?” He demanded, panting from the short run.

“A wha-? Spencer, what are you talking about?”

“Can you send the hacker a message? Or leave her one so she can find it when she comes?”

Penelope swivelled around in her chair once again, doing who-knows-what to answer his question.

“There's no telling what she actually sees in our servers, Spencer, we didn't see any breach in classified files, the only thing she's done is read your personal file and drop us hints.”

His hands closed into fists as he nodded along. “So no?”

“No, Spencer, I'm sorry. Why? Are you starting to grow fond of our little helper.”

“She's not our little helper. She's a criminal. And she'll be dead soon if I don't confirm with her that we have the right guy - excuse me.”

The anger was washing over him now, as he left the room to get some air, getting only as far as the corridor before slamming an open palm into the wall and resting his forehead against it for a moment, just thinking.

The stress of the case was almost too much for him as he turned around and rested his back against the wall, sliding down it until he was sat on the floor. He may have despised you at that moment, but he didn't want you to get yourself killed.

Something nagged him, still, some stress or anger that hadn't yet surfaced, or some case fact he was missing. A glint at the corner of his eye had him looking up to the camera currently trained directly on him.

Computers are useless, he thought to himself, when you can send a letter.

The next time you sat down at your desk, you weren't exactly shocked to see an up close and personal shot of Aaron Hotchner - they'd turned your security stream into a one way facetime and you were sat directly opposite the big boss himself in an interrogation room.

“Checkmate, I guess,” you said, waiting for the man to move.

A signal from behind the camera let him know you were online and watching. He picked up a pen and paper and scribbled down something before holding the note out to you once more.

The name and location of the bastard next door. They'd done it, and now you simply had to drop your evidence, shut down your computer, and wait for the sirens to sound.

You felt slightly sad typing out your last message, knowing that you had no more reason to stay in touch with the team now. Still, you were only human and couldn't resist the chance to say something more.

“Aaron Hotchner and his clever team,

Working with you has been like a dream,

When Reid comes it is wet,

And my mind is all set,

Oh, I do wish that he'd make me cream.”

The camera turned seconds after your message was sent, and there he was, reading intently, frow creased in annoyance as he tried to remain calm. He, too, picked up a pen and paper.

“I have questions,” the paper said when he turned it around. Holding it up for a few seconds before returning his pen to paper. You typed out a message before he could finish dictating his, though.

“When you find me there's lots for me to say,

I can't help simply feeling this way,

Your profile I read,

Can't believe you're a Fed,

I yearn for you all night and day.”

Somehow, the lines between his brow deepened as he quickly scribbled out another message. This one wasn't a question, though. It was simply two words.

He'd written your name on that paper. He'd found you.

You weren't sure if the tingle that ran up your spine was fear or anticipation. One one hand, you'd likely committed multiple felonies in the pursuit of justice, and the SWAT team about to pick up the killer was going to knock for you, too. On the other hand, it was pretty much a given that you would be seeing Spencer Reid in person in the next few hours.

“The Doctor had finally cracked it,

The only identity that could fit,

The pretty young thing,

Who'd been flirting with him,

And was thinking of sitting on his…”

You sent a second message along with the first.

“I couldn't make this one rhyme, Doc. Come and get me.”

The sound of the FBI outside your neighbour's door had you stepping away from the computer finally. It was time to get ready to see him. You stepped out of your robe and into the shower as you waited to be collected and hauled into a police vehicle.

xxx

So far, you were a bit disappointed by the look of the BAU offices. It was smaller than it appeared on the CCTV, and you hadn't exactly given the tour. Unless the whole tour was the wall from the elevators, through the bullpen and straight to interrogation room one. You were also slightly embarrassed that you had yet to be greeted by any of your favourite characters yet. The lead swat officer had led you in some desk agents dropping by to have you fill out some simple documents - waiving your rights and all that. You'd seen not even a single member of the BAU since dropping in two hours ago, but you felt his eyes on you.

You faced the mirror, trying your best to stare straight through it and into the man beyond.

Spencer Reid was there. He had to be. He was too curious to be anywhere else. You smiled at him through the mirror and waited.

You were right, of course. Spencer stood on the opposite side of the one-way window and watched you look for him in every inch of the glass. He watched you squirm when you couldn't find anything, watched you pick at your nails as he made you wait.

He watched you cross and uncross your legs, the short skirt you'd slipped into just before you left providing just enough mystery to catch his eye and his breath.

He was annoyed, frustrated, a little bit impressed, anxious, and - to his peril - turned on.

“Spencer,” Hotch said, breaking the man's concentration. “We can't keep her that much longer. Go in and say something, or I'll cut her loose.”

Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away and stepped out of the waiting room before letting himself into yours.

“Miss Y/N, my name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm a profiler working with the Behavioural An-”

“You're joking, right?” You asked, eyes lighting up, spine straightening as you looked up at the man. “I know who you are, Doc.”

“Please call me Doctor Reid,” he asked, setting down a file on the table and looking over the desk at you.

“Oh, I don't even get your first name.” You lifted your leg and ran it along the side of his until he moved his chair back, just out of reach. You pouted as he began reading through documents, asking you to confirm exactly which technical breaches you were responsible for.

“And the breach at 1:27pm on Thursday 5th-”

“Yes, that was me, too. They were all me, Doc, is that all? Are we finished now?”

“I don't know, are we finished? Can I leave?”

“No,” you shouted, just as he stood up to gather his things. “No, don't go. I want to talk to you.”

He sat back down, finally looking at you instead of words on a page.

“Do you enjoy attention, Miss Y/N?” He asked, voice cold but gaze burning like fire into your skin.

“As much as anyone does.”

“Do you enjoy my attention?” The words hung between you for a few minutes as you watched him carefully, searching for the right answer.

“What do you think, Doc?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid,” he repeated reflexively.

“I know your name,” you smiled, and he finally looked away, breaking contact to regroup for a second.

“We have reason to believe you used your backdoor into our system to access my personal file, is that correct?” It may have been asked as a question, but Spencer Reid already knew the answer.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

You laughed at the simple question, sure that your behaviour until this point was evidence enough to answer it.

“Why? Because you're attractive and your smart and-”

“Why haven't you used the content of the files as leverage? I've been digging at you for the last half hour, and you have plenty of ammunition to throw back at me, yet you haven't. Why?”

For the first time in a while, you were speechless.

“Oh. Wow. Should I have said something? Would you have felt more comfortable if I were a horrible person using your background to make you feel vulnerable?”

“Why, Y/N?”

You sighed and looked back up at him.

“I'm interested in you. That's it. Honestly, there is nothing in your file more interesting than how you look running your hands through your hair.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched before he let out a sigh.

“So you're a compulsive liar.” He said it so finitely it was like a kick in the teeth.

“Or maybe you're just insecure. I can help with that.”

He shot you another warning look as a grin spread over your lips. Yes, it was very fun to mess with Spencer Reid.

“FBI Agents aren't allowed to sleep with suspects.”

“You want to sleep with me?”

His eyes went wide as he realized his mistake, mouth opening and closing as he tossed another annoyed look in your direction.

The door to the interrogation room opened, and Reid quickly bolted out of his seat as Aaron Hotchner entered. The two men shared a nod before the younger man left the room entirely.

“Such a shame, I thought we were really getting somewhere.”

To your surprise, Hotchner’s lips curled up in a laugh as he sat down, straightening his suit.

“Miss Y/N, we've reviewed the information you've given us and taken into account your motives, and the FBI has decided not to prosecute you for your actions.”

You sat for a minute, Hotch doing the same, the both of you caught waiting for each other to say something or continue.

“But?” You prodded, knowing there was more left to say.

“But, we'd ask for your cooperation on cases in the future that require technological man-power. In a consultancy role, of course. You wouldn't be given a badge or a gun or any clearance, and you'd need to be with an agent at all times.”

You tapped your fingers against the desk, trying to figure out if this deal was beneficial or not.

“I'll do it if I can pick the Agent.”

Now, the man was fully smiling at you or giving you what you assumed passed for a smile in his books.

“We had recommended Doctor Reid for the role. Of course, if you're more comfortable with another agent, you can-”

“Doctor Reid is perfect, thank you.”

The man nodded and stood, and you stood with him as he led you quietly out of the room.

A flustered Spencer Reid exited the adjoining room, hurrying to catch Hotch before he really signed his life away to you.

“Hotch, what is this?” He demanded, stopping the man in his tracks. They both paused, turning around and moved a few feet awaywfrom.you whispering out their argument.

You couldn't catch most of it, but you did happen to catch the phrases “man-eater,” “I'm not good with people,” and “Spencer, this will be good for you.” Victory in the end went to Hotch, who promptly turned on his heel and kept walking down the hall.

“I work here now,” you said, grinning up at Spencer.

“No, you don't.”

“According to your boss, I do. And you're my babysitter.”

“You're a criminal. You hacked into the FBI database to leave ominous clues to multiple murders.”

“If you call those ominous clues, I'm curious how people usually flirt with you.”

“They don't. Why…why are we having this conversation?”

He stormed off ahead of you, and you quickened your pace to catch up to him, following him down a familiar hallway to what was obviously tech central at the BAU.

“Spencer, seriously? You're walking around looking like that, and no one hits on you?”

He stopped abruptly, and you ran into his back before he turned around to scowl at you again.

“Can we keep this serious, please?”

“I'm very serious about flirting with you, and I'm stumped why more people aren't.”

“Okay, let's go somewhere and talk,” his hand landed on your waist, readying his grip to forcibly move you if need be.

“I thought that's what we were doing.” Instead of allowing him to move you, you leaned into his touch, stepping closer and raising a hand to his chest, as his head dipped to maintain eye contact.

“No, this isn't talking, this is some weird foreplay I've never heard of, and I'd like you to leave my office if you're going to continue,” the woman sat at the desk exclaimed, horror and amusement fighting a battle for her facial expressions. “I like to keep my office a no trauma zone, so please take a walk to the nearest bed or storage closet or car and you can shove your tongues down each other's throats in peace and out of my sight, please and thank you.”

Spencer tried to step away, but a hand on his tie kept him close and kept his eyes on you. You poked your head out around him and smiled at the other woman.

“Sorry to disturb you. I'm Y/N. Based on the tech, I assume we will be working with each other soon.”

“Oh my gosh, you were, like, my number one most hated person last week. Penelope Garcia, tech analyst.”

“I'm sorry about that. If it makes it any better, it was really hard to get past some of your firewalls. And I couldn't even touch the classified files.”

“Apology accepted, on the condition that you lead young Reid out of my office right now before he explodes.”

You grinned and grabbed the man's hand, sending Penelope a quick goodbye as you pulled him out of the room.

He stumbled behind you for a few moments before catching up and pulling you in a different direction, keeping your hands intertwined as he bee-lined for the elevators and pushed the button to go down.

It arrived, and he pulled you in, not releasing your grip until the doors were fully closed and you were alone.

“Getting me all alone, Doc? What do you have in mind?”

“I'm driving you home.”

“My apartment is a crime scene, and I have no family in the city.”

“What about friends?”

“I've been stalked by a homicidal police officer for the last month and barricaded myself into an apartment. Do you think I have friends?”

His gaze was somewhat softer as he looked at you again. You saw the math happening in his head as he tried to figure out what to do with you. You also saw his brain short circuiting when you wrapped yourself around his arm.

“We're friends now, Doc. Isn't that right?”

“What?”

“We're friends,” you repeated again, tone becoming a little defensive in a pout.

“We are not friends, Y/N. We've known each other for less than 6 hours, and we haven't engaged in any friendly conversation.”

“We've known each other for two weeks, and I've been more than friendly enough for the both of us.”

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Gesturing for you to go first, Spencer hurried you out of the elevator and into the parking garage.

“Trust me, Spencer, deep down, part of you really wants to be friends with me,” you said poking his chest with a finger. You couldn't resist flattening your hand against his surprisingly hard chest and letting the hand drop slightly.

“And an ever deeper down part of you doesn't want to be friends at all,” you smiled at him.

He caught your wrist before it could reach his belt buckle, your unconscious finish line, spinning you around and dragging you to his car.

The biting cold of metal cutting into your wrists was the first indication that maybe Spencer Reid wasn't as easy to mess with as you'd hoped. He closed the handcuffs around your wrists and handed you into the car as you gaped at him.

“Spencer!”

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“I’m not a criminal, Spencer, let me go.”

“I'll let you go when you prove to me you can behave.”

You pouted as he strapped you into the car and closed the door, walking around to the passenger side before letting himself in.

“What's next? Are you going to gag me?” You scoffed as he turned over the engine and began backing out of the parking lot.

“No. I think you'd enjoy that too much.”

The drive to Spencer's apartment was long and quiet as you sat pouting in the passenger seat. Every few seconds, you twisted and moved your arms, fidgeting left and right so he could see how much the restraints bothered you. Luckily, he'd handcuffed your hands in front of your body, so you still sat somewhat comfortably, but you didn't want him to know that.

He pulled up to the building and turned off the engine, pulling out his keys.

“Let's go,” he said, not even sparing you a look as he climbed out.

“Spencer, I'm handcuffed. How do I even get out?”

“You'll figure it out. You're a smart girl, right?”

He closed his door and began walking, and you quickly fumbled your way out.

“Spencer… Spencer, your neighbours are going to ask questions about you bringing a handcuffed girl into your apartment!” You whispered at him as you paced behind him, somehow running to catch up with his mere walk.

“I don't have neighbours like you, Y/N. They won't notice a thing.”

“Right, okay. And when you murder a dozen people over a six month period, they won't hack the federal government.” You rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door, taking your arm and finally handing you into the apartment.

It was dark and cold, and you shivered, feeling his body pushed in right behind yours, closing the door before he felt around for the light switch.

When the lights turned on, you blinked, adjusting to the light again as he walked you further into the apartment, hands on your hips as you slowly stumbled forward.

“Can you take the handcuffs off now?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.

“And let you touch my things? No.”

You shook off his hands and walked further into the room.

“You know I can still mess with your stuff with my hands tied up like this,” you said, walking to the nearest bookshelf.

“Whoops, look at that,” you said, pulling a book off the shelf and letting it fall to the floor between you with a thud.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed, voice pitched up in exasperation.

“Oh, this stack of books on the ground looks well organized. Oopsie!” You acted out tripping over the books, sending them flying in different directions.

“One more time, Y/N, mess with my stuff one more time-”

You didn't hear the words as you pulled yet another book off his shelf and let it tumble to the ground.

He was on you in seconds, lifting your wrists and pinning them to the top shelf, pressing his body against yours as he stretched you out.

You gasped at both the sudden contact and the tight grip he now had on your hands.

“Tell me, do you actually want to be in control, or do you just think you should want to be in control?”

“What's the difference?”

“The difference is how much you enjoy it. I think you're only being a brat to get a rise out of me. You're doing this because there's no one else in your life that will give you exactly what you crave."

"And what would that be?"

"Attention," he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Great, thanks for the therapy. Are you going to show me how much I can enjoy relinquishing control now?”

“Brat,” he spat at you.

“Fed,” you spat back.

“You have a problem with law enforcement?” He asked, his breath hitting your ear as you tried not to shiver again at his touch.

“My neighbour was a serial killer whose day job was police brutality," you said, as if the answer was obvious, but Spencer still stared, waiting for true confirmation.

“Yes I have a problem with law enforcement. What, are you going to spank me?”

His eyes lit up, and you suddenly wondered if you'd made a mistake.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

“N-No.” You stuttered, but he'd already begun moving you over to his couch.

“It was a joke. Spencer, it was a joke, don't-”

You underestimated his strength as he flipped you around and guided you down over his lap. Keeping your hips raised, he used one hand to hold you down while the other pushed up your tight skirt.

“S-Spencer, I really don't think-”

“Then don't think,” he said, bringing his hand down hard on your ass as you cried out in shock and pain.

“Stop thinking. You think too much, let me do it for you.”

With each hit, your shock grew fuzzy, melting into pleasure as you felt wetness pooling between your thighs.

The doctor you thought would be an easy target was not sadistically returning every teasing word back to you with his hands, letting bruises blossom all over your ass as he delivered painfully arousing strikes.

His hand stopped and he rubbed your ass as you twitched at the gentleness, panties sticking to the folds of your cunt as you absent mindedly pushed up into his touch.

“See, now you're listening,” he said, fingers trailing down to touch you over the sopping undergarments.

With two quick fingers, the crotch of your panties peeled away from your skin and he was plunged deep inside you, fingers pressing in as his thumb found its way to your clit.

“Fuck, Spencer-”

“Doctor Reid. You can use my full title now or you don't get to cum.”

“D-Doctor Reid, please!” His thumb rubbed slowly over your clit bit his fingers didn't move as you shuddered and contracted around them.

“Please what?” He asked, voice light as if he wasn't two knuckles deep in you already.

“Please make me cum, Doctor Reid!”

“Good manners,” he said as he finally began pumping his digits in and out of you, spreading your legs wider as you clawed your hands into his couch cushions to ground yourself in the moment. His spare hands left your wrists, and you felt them again, delivering small, almost cute hits to your ass as you twitched around his fingers, shying away from the painful contact.

“That's it, Y/N, let yourself relax,” he whispered, shifting his weight underneath you as you became aware of the tent in his pants.

Your brain was jello as you tried to bounce back on his fingers, chasing your oncoming orgasm.

“Look at you, trying to cum on my hands. You're just an attention-seeking slut, right?”

His fingers continued ppimg as your tongue hung loosely in your mouth.

“Answer me, or I'll leave you here high and dry, Y/N. Tell me you're an attention seeking slut that's been fingering yourself to the thought of this for weeks.”

“I-I'm an a-atten…tion seeking s-slut,” you stifled a moan and bit back tears as he pressed another finger inside of you. “Spencer I can't I need to cum,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks pathetically.

“Say it.”

“I'm an attention seeking s-slut that's been th-thinking about this-”

“Fingering yourself,” he corrected.

“Fingering myself to the thought of this for w-weeks,” you cried, sniffing now as your thighs shook in anticipation.

“What a nasty little slut,” he said as you finally came, your cum running down his fingers as he kept his hands moving.

Your tears were falling freely now as you bit back little sobs and chokes of emotions, the pleasure from the orgasm almost too much to handle.

Underneath you, Spencer shifted, freeing himself from his position and laying you fully down on the sofa as your legs still shook.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,” he said, unzipping his pants as he took up his place behind you.

They were your words, and your body signalled warnings everywhere as his hands pulled your hips up once more, pulling your knees up too to bend under you, laying you face down ass up.

“Who I simply and truly just need.”

He pulled the panties down to the crook of your knees before leaning down over you so he could deliver the next few lines as whispers into your ear.

“I would lie on my back, And then let him attack, Any inch of my body with his seed.”

A weak moan escaped your lips as he sank his cock inside of you, lips still pressed against your ears.

“I don't want you on your back, though. I much prefer you like this.”

His cock slid out of you and returned with a speed and strength that had your eyes rolling back in your head.

He was thick, maybe a little longer than average, and he filled you perfectly using your cum as lubricant.

“Such a good listener, now, Y/N. I like you like this,” he said with a moan, thrusting hard and deep inside of you.

You didn't talk. You could only drool and moan into his couch as he emptied your brain one thrust at a time.

You didn't think about how he wasn't wearing a condom. You didn't think about how he'd spat your words back at you, ready to fill you with his seed. You just sat in a pool of your own pleasure and let Spencer Reid use your body as you'd been begging him to for weeks.

He raised your hips and gave one last thrust, stilling there for a second as he filled your empty body and mind with his cum and his entire being.

If you weren't obsessed with Doctor Spencer Reid before this, you certainly were now.

He pulled out of you quickly, wiping his cock on your skirt before hurrying off to the bathroom to clean up.

Your brain was still absent when he returned, cleaning you off and finally removing the handcuffs. He removed your clothes, replacing them with his spares as he threw the soiled ones into the wash.

When you regained your wits or what was left of them, you were laid out in his bed, wrapped in a blanket and stuffed into a sweater and sweats, fully covered from head to toe. Spencer was picking up his keys and trying his shoelaces.

“Where are you going?’ You asked sleepily, stumbling to the doorway. Your legs were still shaky, and your movement was already limited. You knew that tomorrow, the use of your limbs would be nonexistent.

“Back to the office. Now that you're not around, maybe I'll be able to get some actual work done.”

“Spencer,” you said, forcing him to turn around to look back at you.

Before he could say anything else, you pressed your lips to his, hot and needy, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed back, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressed you into the wall next to the door.

When you both pulled away for breath, you detangled your limbs, smoothing out his shirt and readjusting his tie.

He looked down at you, waiting for you to say something else as you met his gaze, grinning at him.

“I look forward to working with you, Doctor Reid.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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revolutionsingingintherainnn · 25 days ago

Text

dedicated to ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

summary: you, an author, get invited to a talk show for your first novel, but there’s a surprise in store for you.

⋆ ★ ln x reader ░

⋆ ★ fluff + humour ░

masterlist ☾☼

your first novel was a huge success.

a dream come true for you.

it wasn't just the success part really. it was everything. from writing, editing, cover options, editing again, and then publishing. the process was exhausting but so, so fulfilling.

your book had also caused quite a craze among the formula one fans. you had an inkling why that may be. maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with your dedication.

Dedicated to Lando Norris, my green flag inspiration.

yeah, it was definitely because of that.

since you were an indie author, it was absolutely crazy to you when you were invited on a talk show to discuss your book!! the day you'd received the news, you had jumped on the bed! and then promptly fell to the floor, but that's fine.

on the day of your big day (!!), you had dressed up, listened to the encouraging voice notes your boyfriend had sent, since he was working, and then found yourself at the venue a half hour early.

you were excited, who's gonna sue you for that?

they'd gotten you to hair and make up, and they had attached a collar mic and they explained all the rules to you. god there were so many rules. why were there so many rules?

and then they were live!

you stood behind the curtains, watching as the talk show host welcomed the audience, made some jokes, and everyone laughed. you watched as they eventually took their seat, and began introducing your book without naming it. adding in a little touch of their own personal stories to make it relatable.

and then the host brought out your book, and announced your name, and the audience cheered! behind you, the assistant pushed you forward.

with a deep breath, you stepped forward and on set. the crowd cheered louder and you smiled and waved.

"welcome, y/n!" the host said as you sat on the couch beside their couch.

you were glad the interview was in a slightly informal setting. it relaxed your nerves a little bit. the host themselves were sitting with their legs on the couch, tucked underneath them.

"hi! i'm so glad you could make it!" the host greeted you.

“i’m so glad i got invited in the first place! this is like a dream come true!” you exclaimed.

the crowd chuckled, clearly endeared by your excitement.

“now, i have to know, how did you get in the process of writing? according to my research, or stalking to be more accurate-” the audience laughed, as did you, “-you studied psychology?”

“actually, i’m still studying psychology. i’ve been working to get into sports psychology specifically. but um, i’ve always enjoyed writing, i’m always writing poems and short stories and stuff. when the idea for this book struck me, it was like the words had taken over my body and day and night i was only writing,”

“how did you get the idea for the book? like, what was your process?”

you sat up straighter, you loved talking about your book and all the things about the process. “i actually got an idea for the characters first. like, i made a character sketch for my main protagonists, and some of the side characters, and then i came up with a plot to suit the characters,”

“that’s usually not how it’s done, right? i’ve interviewed other authors before, and they’ve always come up with the plot first,”

“it’s definitely unconventional. for the longest time, my editor thought i was just lying about writing the book myself. she genuinely thought i had a ghost writer, because my process was just so weird,” you said, laughing a little bit.

“well, we certainly do know the inspiration behind your male main character,” the host teased, as your cheeks reddened, and the crowd broke out in synchronised “oooohs”

you laughed, shifting a little on the couch, “do we now?”

the host, who was still holding the book with the cover facing the audience, opened the book to the dedication page. turning to you, they said, “now, i’m a little old. so i can’t read very well-” the crowd broke out in scattered laughter, “-but could you read what it says right here?” they pointed to the text.

your smile widened and you said-you didn’t even have to read it-you said, “dedicated to lando norris, my green flag inspiration,”

the crowd burst out in cheers.

“do you know who lando norris is?” the host asked.

you made a confused face and exclaimed, “why would i add his name if i didn’t know who he was?”

the crowd laughed, as did the host, “no, no, no, i meant like, do you know him personally? like, beyond formula one? because why else would you add him as your green flag inspiration?”

“i actually- okay, i’ve been a huge fan of formula one all my life. like, i have weekends blocked on race days and stuff. and it was during one of his interviews- i don’t even remember which race it was- but there was a female interviewer-”

“oh, i’ve seen that clip!” the host said suddenly, jumping slightly.

“oh my god, you have? i love that clip!” turning to the audience, you explained, “there was a female interviewer who asked like, a really smart question about the car and the strategies and how it’s gonna help the team and all of that. it was during the championship battle between max and lando, and lando had complimented the interviewer and said that she always asks the best questions around. and then, a male interviewer who was standing right there called lando a liar and basically insinuated that lando wanted to-” you glanced slightly awkwardly towards the host as you spoke animatedly.

“wanted to sleep with her, yeah,” the host supplied. okay, good, so that was appropriate for you to say.

“yeah, exactly, and lando was just like no, that’s not true, i’m not lying-”

“and that was it for you? that gave birth to your male main character?”

“yeah. that was it for me. that gave birth to my male main character,”

the host kept the book down as the crowd cheered.

"well, y/n," the host started.

turning your entire attention on them, you said, "yes,"

"we've got a little surprise for you,"

"is it going to be someone jumping from somewhere because i don't want that surprise, i'm very happy without a surprise," you said, your eyes comically large.

the crowd laughed.

"we wanted to do that. your surprise said that they won't be able to do it without laughing, so then, we decided not to do that,"

you put your hands together and looked up at the ceiling, "thank you, surprise guest!"

the host laughed along with the crowd. you smiled.

standing, the host announced, "everyone! please welcome! lando norris!"

the crowd let out loud cheers and some even stood.

you stood as well. "what?" you screamed, though it was drowned by the deafening noise of the audience.

the doors opened, the same ones from where you entered, and lando norris walked in. he smiled and he waved. and when he looked at you- you with your hands covering your mouth, eyes tracking his every movement- he winked.

after shaking his hand with his host, he finally turned towards you.

"what are you doing here?" you asked, still not over your shock.

he wrapped an arm around your waist with ease, as you wrapped yours around your neck.

"i'm here to be your surprise guest!" he said, as he pulled back.

"this wasn't on the calendar!"

"i know. i had jon put it on his calendar, cause i knew i would forget it,"

the two of you were still standing in the middle of the stage, arms around each other, though yours had travelled down to settle at his torso, while his remained at your waist.

"is that why you had an early morning training session?" you asked.

"yeah, had to make sure i'm not late for this," he said, still smiling.

"as much as i'm loving the discussion of calendars and training sessions, i am really confused here," the host interrupted, and lando and you finally broke apart.

the two of you settled on the couch, side by side. thighs pressed together, but the hands to yourselves.

"now, what is this about a calendar?" they asked.

"we share one," lando answered simply.

"why?"

"because we live together," you answered.

"right. again, why?"

"people who love each other live together," lando explained like the host was five.

"who love each other?"

"we love each other." you said, using your thumb to point at lando and then you.

the host stared for a few seconds. lando and you looked around awkwardly during that time.

"so, what i'm hearing is that you two-" they pointed at the two of you, "-y/n y/l/n and lando norris love each other and live together and share a calendar,"

"yeah, it's just easier. with my constantly changing schedules, and y/n doing university and writing, its easier to just block time on our calendar so that neither of us really disturbs the other," lando said.

"right right. you two love each other and live together and share a calendar," the host repeated again.

leaning forward, you touched their arm, "are you okay?"

"do i look okay? no! i planned to surprise you!"

"i am surprised!" you defended yourself while lando laughed quietly in the background.

"but you two love each other and live-"

"-live together and share a calendar, yes," lando and you completed the sentence in unison.

the audience laughed.

"hold on, since when has this been going on?" the host asked.

you and lando exchanged a look, his fingers playing with the strands of your hair, "five years," you answered. lando nodded.

"five?" the host burst out.

"yeah,"

"how did you two meet?"

"he was driving, i was there to watch, i crashed into him, poured burning hot coffee all over his fireproofs and bam! we fell in love," you said.

"your delivery is so deadpanned, that i really can't tell whether this is true or not," the host said.

laughing, you leaned into lando, who pressed a kiss against your forehead, "well, the world just found out we've been together. gotta make them wait a little bit, stretch it out," lando said, laughing.

the conversation moved smoothly from there. they spoke about lando's career, and your career, and the three of you made jokes, and read snippets from your book, and lando laughed his high pitched laugh while holding your book, and honestly, right there was your dream come true.

later, after it was over, both you and lando were in the process of getting the mics removed, and everything. the two of you thanked everyone who had been a part of the process, and just before you two left, the host jogged towards you, a slip in their hand.

"this is my personal number. we're going to sit down and talk about all the tea i'm missing here," they said.

you graciously accepted the slip of number, laughing, and lando thanked them for the opportunity and said that they would call soon. bidding goodbye, the two to you began walking to lando's car.

his arm wrapped around your shoulder, "good day?"

you leaned up, pecking his lips, "perfect day,"

as the two of you settled in his car, you suddenly smacked his arm and said, "i can't believe you didn't tell me!"

lando laughed.

◤──•~❉᯽❉~•──◥

i really enjoyed writing this one! also, for me, the host was a mix of jimmy fallon and drew barrymore, idk if i got their energies across. anyways, i hope you like this! im sorry it took me so long to write this one! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry

#f1 #lando norris #formula 1 #ln4 #formula one #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando x you #lando x reader #lando x y/n #lando imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #ln x y/n #ln x reader

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gguk-n · 6 months ago

Text

Chapter 1- Anonymous Conversations

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N formed an unexpected bond with a boy behind the screen. He doesn't have many interest it seems, except for reading her stupid poems.

{Reader's POV}

12/07/2012

Dear Diary, Stella is leaving for Canada tomorrow forever. Today was the last day of school before the summer break so I went to Stella's house after school. It's so shitty, how can she leave me like this and before the start of high school. I don't have any friends other than her, what am I supposed to do??? This isn't fair, first Faye moved back to her home country a couple years back and now Stella. It's like they don't even care about me. I made a google plus account so we can stay in touch. Actually everyone's on google plus, I'm just late to the party. I'm sure we'll still be close.

02/01/2013

OMG!! I think I'm in love. There's this new boy band, One Direction. Ava told me about them last year but I brushed her off saying they weren't my cup of tea, but OMG!!! They are fucking perfect and I love Niall so much. He's so cute and has the dreamiest eyes and his accent, I'm gonna faint. I bought the Take Me Home album yesterday!! I even put up their poster above my bed, hehe!! Sooooo, I may or may not be writing now. I think I'm gonna be an author. The stuff isn't great like Shakespeare but I'm sure I'll improve. I've written a couple poems and Aria read them and she thinks they are great. I'm gonna start uploading them on google plus. I made a separate page for it, under a pseudonym. If I really improve, maybe I can publish my work.

I was sat at my laptop, typing the latest story I came up with during lunch so I could upload it. There were a lot of people who were reading my work and even encouraged me. There is improvement, but then again, we can do better, I'm sure. My parents aren't very happy with how I'm wasting my time writing instead of focusing on my education since I'm in high school now. I finished typing the story and clicked the upload button, I got a comment on the post. It was from this guy, named Max, just Max. He always read all of my work and writes the nicest comments under them. I haven't spoken to him personally ever since my mother kept warning me about stranger danger and that it could be some 50 year old dude. But his comments are encouraging and make me want to write more. I hope he knows the kind of effect he's having on me.

My birthday is in a couple of days, I don't know what I'll do since I don't really have a lot of friends. Even Aria is away during that time, so I don't really have anyone to go out with. My parents are busy as always.

So, out of desperation or sadness, I don't know which one, I posted on google plus saying that it was my birthday. The first person who replied was Max as always. I really wanna know when this guy sleeps or how he gets any work done if he is online so much. He messaged me personally too, to wish me again and even asked what I did. I couldn't lie because my heart was heavy, so I told him. I literally just unloaded about not having any friends and spending the day alone because work was more important for my parents. He was so nice about it. He spent the next hour talking to me and cheering me up. He's apparently 15, from Netherlands. He loves cats and lives with his dad and sister. He sounds like a fun guy.

After that, both of us ended up chatting on google plus regularly. I would message him immediately after school and spend the next couple of hours talking to him. Some times, he'd be gone a couple weekends but it was no biggy. I'm sure he had other commitments instead of entertaining a dumb teenager.

Max's birthday is on 30 September. I wanted to be the first one, so I stayed up late to match the dutch timings and wished him. He replied a little while later. He wasn't very excited about it. I get it, maybe his friends aren't there or couldn't make it to his birthday. I was gonna cheer him like he cheered me up. I wish I could send him a present. He really was a light in dark time. When I had no friends in school I could rely on, he came like the knight in shining armour. I just want to be a good and reliable friend to him like he is to me. He is such a sweetheart. We've never spoken on call yet. I guess I'm still a little scared and we've only known each other for a few months. I'm gonna hold on that but Max is a genuinely nice person in my eyes. But his dad doesn't sound like the nicest person from what he says, but I can't tell him that his dad is shitty so I just read his texts.

18/12/2013

Dear Diary, Maxie is the cutest. I haven't seen or heard him yet but I feel like he is. Otherwise, why would he encourage me to follow my dreams? He was so understanding and gave great advice. You might wonder why I needed the advice, diary. I told my parents I wanna pursue a degree in literature and we had a huge fight since apparently I'm throwing my life away and I should try to get a proper degree that might get me a job. Apparently, I'm not thinking straight. I've been thinking about becoming an author for some time now, it's my one passion, I've realised. And if it means struggling, I would rather struggle and be happy than be in a dead end job. Just because they are some big shot business people doesn't mean I wanna do that do. ugh!!! I hate them. Maxie calmed me down honestly, he heard me out and told me it was okay to follow my dreams. I think he is such a good friend. I won't tell him that, he has a big ego as is. LOL!!

I've been gaining a lot of traction on my posts on google plus. I have a couple thousand followers but Max is the most active of them all. Max is so effortlessly funny. He did ask one time if we could talk on call, I told him that my microphone was broken. I'm still a little skeptical. I know, even though I'm literally sharing everything with him, I've never spoken on call or video with him. Maybe some day.

04/03/2014

Dear Diary, I got a new phone and a new number. The previous one was one of my parents multiple numbers but this one is my own. I feel like an adult, hehe!! I made a whatsapp, maybe I'll share my number with Maxie and we might start chatting on there. Google plus had become a bit of hassle and I'm not uploading on it like I used to. I usually only open it to talk to Max. I think it would be better to shift it to another service. He's been a little busy this year compared to the last, didn't tell me much but I think it has to do with him being in his final year of high school. Can't relate, but I hope I'm done with high school soon. It fucking sucks. But on the bright side, I've gotten close to Nia and Aria and I could call Aria my best friend but she considers Nia her best friend. I don't mind being her friend. I have Max anyways.

Max has been quite busy lately, but I don't blame him. I would be busy in my final year of high school too. Even with all that, he has taken time out to talk to me. I did share my number with him, so now instead of google plus, which is a barren wasteland, we text on whatsapp. I've suggested talking on call some time when he's free, which hasn't happened yet.

We had set up a time to talk, it was really early here but I didn't mind, I was up anyways. I couldn't wait to hear his voice. I was anxious as well, what if he's some pedophile; all these thoughts raced through my head when my phone rang. Max- Hi, Y/N! Y/N- Hey, Max!! How are you? Max- I'm good, what about you? Y/N- Yeah, I'm good too. haha!! This is so weird talking to you. Max- yeah, you sound pretty. Fuck was he flirting, is this flirting? A million thoughts ran through my head, no one's ever flirted with me before. I felt my cheeks heat up. Y/N- You sound nice too. I mean....you have a nice voice. Max- haha, thanks, this is the first time some one has said that. Y/N- soooo, what have you been up too?? You've been so busy lately. There was a pause on the other end. I heard shuffling. Max- yeah, I've been busy with stuff. I'll be done soon for a while now. Y/N- That's great I need my best friend back! The conversation flowed smoothly. It didn't feel like we were talking on call for the first time. I had a lot of fun talking to Max. He sounds like a teenager, much to my relief. He's just as funny on call as he is on text.

After that, we ended up calling each other regularly. Max would answer my calls whenever but sometimes I felt bad about calling him at the crack ass of dawn in Netherland so I would avoid calling him whenever. He is so kind and listens well but damn does he talk. Every one who knows me calls me talkative, if they heard Max their ears would bleed. But I like hearing him talk, he has the most random and vast knowledge, he's helped me write too many of my papers because I didn't have to research, I could just ask him; he's like a walking encyclopedia.

17/05/2015

Dear Diary, I think I'm in love. It's not some celebrity this time but I think it's Max. I don't even know that dude's last name but I'm in love. He not like the guys in school, he's so mature and funny and sweet and understanding and he supports me so much. I didn't know when or how but I think I love him. Obviously I won't tell him. It's prolly a crush since I have't dated anyone ever. I'll get over it, can't ruin my friendship over this. As is, he has gotten so busy. I think he is going to college. He didn't say it explicitly but why else would he be so busy right now if not applying for colleges. I don't know the dutch education system but I'm sure he busy pursuing higher education. He said he liked cars, I think he'll do something with cars. I didn't really ask in more details. I'm sure he'll tell me when he wants to. We have a chill friendship, we share when and what we want to. Alas, I hope this crush doesn't ruin my friendship.

09/08/2015

This is bad, my crush on Max has only gone on to increase. He's so kind to me, what am I supposed to do? Also he's the only one who can calm me down after a fight with my parents regarding my future. Sadly, he gotten so busy. He's gone for a while every few weeks. But lately he's been free. We've been talking a lot. He sounds a lot more rested lately too. I'm sure college is tough. But he's strong and I know he'll do it.

[Little did Y/N know, Max was busy racing across the world in Redbull's junior team. He was in his first year as a formula one driver, hence he was so busy. Max had no intentions of telling her, he liked being just Max, a guy from Netherlands who could talk to her. He enjoyed the disconnect he got with her]

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castielafflicted · 2 years ago

Text

Ok its been long enough I HAVE to talk about this poem more because I'm going insane over it. I'm not normal about any of my spn writing and I hope I never will be. I need you all to know how some of the lines make me feel and why I wrote them (in no order).

"I love you as you live // I love you as you die" and "I love you more than life itself // Not even death can stop that"

Cas knows how to die for Dean better than he knows how to live for Dean. And if the the best way to show his love is to die, then he will.

"You are my soul // You are my grace" shaking this line in my hands for obvious reasons.

"You are my sun // You are my moon" and "You surround me // You are in me"

Dean being the sun for Cas. Bright and all consuming to the point that he changed Cas completely. His light encompassed and surrounded Cas. Cas being the moon for Dean. Not always visible, but still there. A rock inside Dean even when he is unaware Cas is there, something to cling to.

I am more insane about this poem than I think anyone else ever will be. I hope everyone else is as much of a fan of their own work as I am of mine. Go fucking insane about your own content. You deserve it.

You all deserve my Destiel poem that I recently finished finalizing.

The left side is Cas as the moon, and the right side is Dean as the sun. I did my best with my handwriting, but you know how it is.

Moon side: Give me the sun Light of my day I give you all of me Light of my life You are my sun I watch you as you wake I love you as you live You are my soul I am with you always You surround me I love you more than life itself

Sun side: Give me the sun Light of my night I give you all of me Light of my life You are my moon You watch me as I sleep I love you as you die You are my grace I am with you always You are in me Not even death can stop that

Center: I love you

#zeph posting #i am so fucking excited over this poem and im so proud of it and happy with how it turned out #and like same with my fics. i will go insane over my own writing #i know the exact things to say that will make me lose my mind and if i dont put them in my work who will #this poem makes me feel so many fucking things and i didnt know how much i needed it to exist in the world until i was done writing it #zeph poetry

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totaly-obsessed · 1 year ago

Text

Cupid

Lia Wälti x reader

-> Valentine's Day with Lia and your Daughter

-> thank you @babsisbakery for the poem, and thank you @alotofpockets for the dutch translation help and conversation

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Small hands tugged at your ear, ripping you from your very much-needed sleep. Once you saw your daughter’s adorable little eyes and the excited smile on her lips you just couldn’t be mad anymore.

“Mama, we need to start!” In a whisper shout, she bounced up and down, ready to get the day going.

She was right – you did need to start. Together with Amelie, you had planned to treat your fiancée to a wonderful Wednesday. It was Valentine's Day after all.

Still groggy with sleep you let the small blonde pull you out of bed before she gave you a moment to gather yourself, as she handed you slippers that matched hers.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Amelie had already laid out her little apron and quickly pulled it over her pajamas before turning around, gesturing to you to bind it behind her.

“All done my love. Let’s start with the waffles huh?”

Just 20 minutes later a hearty and big breakfast was cooked up, and Amelie nervously grabbed the card you had crafted with her beforehand.

“What if she doesn’t like it, Mama?”

Crouching down in front of the five-year-old got harder the older you got – but never in a million years would you stop doing it.

“That’s impossible my love! Lia loves everything that you make for her. She keeps it in her cubby – you’ve seen it before!”

Technically Ames was only your daughter – but with a no-show father and Lia falling in love with both you and your little companion at first sight, she was her ‘Momie’ in every way the small blonde could wish for.

While Lia had no genetic input whatsoever – Amelia could be and look a lot like her. They had the same kind of smile and funny laugh, but their stare could be terrifying.

“You come with me?”

How could you say no to that face? So together you walked up the stairs, and the once excited five-year-old had turned into a nervous wreck, hiding behind your legs and making herself as heavy as she could.

With a quiet squeak, the door opened as you pushed it, giving your daughter a slight nudge towards the bed, where you could already see Lia trying to spy through her lashes giving it her best to hide a smile.

“Momie?” the pudgy hand that wasn’t holding the card nudged your fiancée – who continued to play dead to the world.

“Momie – wake up please!”

Like in a bad movie Lia suddenly sat up with a big smile, stretching her arms wide with an obviously fake yawn.

“Good Morning Mon petit amour!”

Amelie panicked, or rather froze on the spot – immediately turning to you with wide eyes and Lia just knew that she would flee if nothing happened.

“What do you have there my love?”

A hesitant step towards the bed and the small blonde was close enough for her Momie to grab her. The loud squeal of surprise that filled the room was miles better than the nervous shuffle of feet.

“Wrote it just for you Momie!”

With an exaggerated gasp, the brunette footballer opened the pink envelope to discover a handcrafted card. It was white and on it a big heart, that you had to draw because a certain someone wasn’t happy with her tries and had about five meltdowns because of it. It was filled with little folded-up papers in pink and purple – above the heart she had made you write “I love you to pieces” after you had tried to help with her writing.

On those little papers were reasons why you and Ames loved the Swiss, but if it came to your opinion, there weren’t enough notes in the world that could do the love you held for the woman justice.

“Oh, will you read it to me?” Lia had tears in her eyes once she saw the small poem in wriggly handwriting. She pulled your daughter to her chest, looking at the card together while you snapped some secret pictures. “I’ll help you read them, okay?”

“To Momie,

From many tantrums to always making me laugh,

You are my favorite hero, kicking ass on the pitch

And being my personal chef at home,

And finding time to play with me and my Dinos.

I couldn’t have wished for a better mom.

- Your Ames!”

Lia’s eyes were filled with tears as she pressed kiss after kiss on Amelia's messy hair. Of course, the Swiss knew that you had massively helped her with writing, but Amelia had such a way of speaking that she could definitely recognize it in there.

The five-year-old was proud of herself and whipped her head back from Lia behind you.

“Breakfast now! Come Momie – I made you waffles!”

Due to the rain last week, the fixture against the London City Lioness has been pushed to today. So after spending the day in blissful peace, it was time to go to the game. Wrangling a little excited 5-year-old girl dressed as Cupid into the car was much harder than anticipated, and at some point, Lia had to leave early.

Viv greeted you at the car as you helped Amelie out of the car. She was still a little unsure about her knee, so she opted to sit in the stands, keeping you company. “Wow – Look at you!”

“Vivi! I’m Cupid!”

Dressed in a pink and gold dress, white gloves, and a golden hairband. On her back was a pair of small, white, feathery wings – in her hands a tiny bow with fake arrows that had heart-shaped tips.

“I can see that lieve schat. Let’s get you two inside huh?”

Watching the game with a young child is always a bit different than it would be without – but you wouldn’t change it for the world. Amelia was excited for the first half, screaming her little lungs out when Lia scored from a corner kick off of Katie.

As a celebration, the Swiss imitated pulling back the string of an arrow and letting it go in your direction – effectively sending you a heart accompanied with a wink.

Your relationship was no secret by far, the brunette loved to brag about you and her daughter. And no matter how much she boasted about you, you would always blush – so seeing your already red face on the big screen gave you a fright. Viv and Ames just laughed at you.

During the second half, Amelia was busy reading a book she had brought for her. While she had gotten Lia’s athleticism she had gotten your intense love for books, and once she started, she wouldn’t stop until it was finished. Or at least she wouldn’t stop that easily.

Once the final whistle blew, the Arsenal girls winning 3-0, Viv escorted you down to the pitch – you not knowing the way was her excuse but in reality, she just wanted to see Beth. As soon as Amelia’s feet hit the grass, she was gone running around with Kyra, Alessia, and Victoria.

“Did you see my goal? Scored it just for you!” Lia’s smile was enticing and she didn’t wait long to pull you into a breathtaking kiss, only stopping once Katie fake gagged next to you.

Before she could say what she wanted to a small body slammed into her. Amelia, of course. In her hand, a beautiful white rose that you definitely didn’t bring from home.

“For me? Oh, thank you my personal Cupid, doing such a good job!”

Now down on her knees, the brunette engulfed your daughter in a bear hug – careful not to crush the cupid wings on her back.

“It’s from Rue Rue!”

The five-year-old skipped back to Ruesha Littlejohn who gave her a high five and a piece of candy while Katie could only stare at the rose in her hands. Not even noticing you and Lia nearly collapsing because of laughter.

Cupid had delivered her a rose from Rue Rue, her ex-girlfriend…

#woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #arsenal wfc x reader #katie mccabe x reader #lia walti x reader #lia wälti x reader #lia wälti #lia walti

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oikasugayama · 1 year ago

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what about a bsd chart for falling in love?

i can't help falling in love with you

Dazai is prone to falling in love at first sight. He sees a pretty girl, or a handsome guy, and does everything in his power to get their attention. It's different when you come along, though. You fly under his radar for a while; it's not that you're not his type, it's that he doesn't realize it at first. As he gets to know you he realizes more and more how much he likes talking to you; how attractive he thinks you are; how much he relishes in your attention. You know his reputation and try to steer clear of his charms, but you're not entirely successful. You vow not to tell him, though, because you don't want to get your heart broken. That makes the surprise of his confession all the more potent. It's proper, it's sincere, and it's real.

Akutagawa is more surprised than you are when he confesses. Love isn't something he thought he'd have the pleasure of experiencing. His life has been difficult, its been deadly, and its been dark, but meeting Atsushi made him more thoughtful and less violent, and then when he met you he felt like he was experiencing something brand new. It was exciting. It was confusing. It was beautiful. You liked him as well, of course, but you vowed not to tell him because you didn't think he had romantic interests and you didn't want to make him pull away from the little friendship you had developed. His confession is a pleasant surprise.

Poe falls in love easily. All it takes is someone being nice to him and showing interest in his writing, and he's done for. For you to regularly read his stories and genuinely praise and critique them, and for you to enjoy spending time with him even if it's spent doing nothing--it means the world to him. He confesses to you via poetry. He writes you a lovely dramatic poem about a lonely man who meets a person who brightens his world. It's obvious it's about you--his nervousness and shaking hands gives it away. You're so excited. You liked him too, a lot, but weren't sure if you should tell him yet. You're glad he took the decision out of your hands.

Nikolai and Fyodor are similar when it comes to love. They are best friends, after all (according to Nikolai anyway). They have a philosophy that some think is... wrong or outdated, but it works for them when they want to get you. It goes like this: they see you, they want you, they get you. Literally. Either of them would lure you in and capture you. He'll explain his grand love for you, and even if you escape, he'll find you again and again. He'll wear you down until you love him or it kills you. Whichever comes first.

Sigma, having only recently become a person, doesn't know what extreme emotions feel like. When he starts to fall in love with you, he thinks he's sick or dying because of the way his heart rate increases, and the way he gets shaky and nervous when you come around. He thinks you may be using an ability on him. He doesn't confront you right away, because he really doesn't want to think you'd hurt him--he really, really likes you otherwise. You're so kind and thoughtful and helpful. You don't use him and leave him like others in his life. Once he finally realizes that he's in love with you, it weighs heavily on his mind and stays there. Should he tell you? Do you feel the same? He needs to think on it a while longer...

Oda falls in love with someone very sweet and gentle. The world is a disturbing place with awful things happening every day, and you aren't nearly as aware of that as he is, and he wants to keep it that way. He wants to protect you. To take care of you. To provide for you. He knows he wont be able to do these things without connecting you to the dark part of the world that he works in, so he refrains from confessing. It's the best way to keep you safe. When you confess to him, though, he doesn't have the self-restraint to deny you. He warns you of the dangers, but tells you he wants out, and he'll get out for you. He makes a plan and you're part of it.

Atsushi having had such a dark and violent childhood is a late bloomer when it comes to love. All the other kids in the orphanage were basically his siblings, and he went straight to the ADA after leaving there, so until you come along he's never really had a crush on any real life person. He's thought people were pretty, sure, but that feeling was nothing compared to how his heart races and his knees wobble and his mouth wont cooperate with his brain any time you're around. It becomes extremely obvious to everyone that he has feelings for you, including you after a certain point, and you just think he's so damn sweet. You ask him out finally when you realize he likely wont ever be brave enough to ask you first. He nearly faints he's so excited, and nervous, when you bring it up.

Junichiro falls for someone soft and sweet and nervous after his previous relationship ends. He liked dating people bolder than him, but after a certain point it became too exhausting keeping up with that type of person please for the love of god don't tell everyone you're his sister like Naomi did. When he starts to fall for you, he's very upfront. He tells you he thinks he's falling, and you tell him back. He says he'll keep you updated after he has more time to think about it, and you say the same. You end up spending more and more time together, slowly creating an orbit around the two of you, making a space in your lives for each other. It happens so gradually and so on-pace with one another that it feels completely natural being with him.

Bram may not be the first to fall in love, but he does tell you he intends to court you before you ever reveal your feelings to him. He thinks you're pretty, and he likes when you're around, and you seem to like coming around since you're with him a lot, so he very casually tells you he would like to court you and you very happily accept his offer. He very, very quickly realizes you're something precious and special when he starts thinking about you romantically, and not long after beginning to date he tells you his feelings are very deep. It's a shock but a definite win for you.

Tachihara definitely thinks you're hot and he can tell that you like him--those Hunting Dog instincts and modifications are pretty handy--but he doesn't consider his own feelings for a long time. He leads you on, in fact, giving you attention to make you fawn over him, and then he acts cool like nothing happened, brushing you off and not making plans with you. When you try to move on, stop giving him attention, try to find someone else who's interested in you, he notices, and he hates it. It occurs to him then that he's jealous and he realizes aw fuck, I've gotta tell them how I feel.

Mushitaro is so prim and proper and charismatic--it's hard not to fall for him. You're friends for a long time without thinking much of him, but eventually one day you just realize and it starts bugging you. You may try to distance yourself to see if the feelings will go away, but they wont. While you're distant he misses you desperately and starts to puzzle together his own feelings. Eventually he comes to your house and confesses on your doorstep, saying he misses you and he cares about you so much and he at least needs to know why you're ignoring him. It feels dramatic and straight out of a rom-com.

Ranpo, as I've said before, knows as soon as you do, maybe even sooner, that you have feelings for him. Yours definitely develop before his, but he picks up on it quickly and decides that he wants to date you to see where it goes, and he makes the decision to stay with you long-term after only a couple of dates. There's no confession on your part given that he just knows, but from him the confession is sweet while still being matter-of-fact. "I've fallen for you, as I knew I would. Let's keep dating until we're sick of each other, 'kay?"

Mori lives a double life and you have no idea. If you knew he was the head of the Port Mafia there's no fucking way in hell you ever would have talked to him or gotten to know him or fallen for him or confessed to him, but you didn't know that. To you, Mori was the handsome man in a doctor's coat who came into your store every week. He chatted with you more and more each time he came in, and finally you were brave enough to give him your number, to text him, to ask him out to coffee. He say yes every time, going along with it, and only after you'd been casually dating for some time did he tell you who he really is and well, fuck, you were just about to tell him you were in love with him, so you've both got bombs to drop tonight.

Chuuya plays it so cool that you don't assume he has any sort of romantic feeling for you, but your mind is completely hung up on him to the point of you thinking that you need to be rejected already so you can move on. You tell him as much when you confess, trying to play it off as a joke when you say "dude, I think you're really hot, can you reject me so I'll stop wondering if I have a chance?" He laughs, smirks, and says "I don't think I will, actually. I'll take you to dinner tonight instead." You're flustered, unsure if he means it or not, but oh boy does he. The date goes really well, actually, and he asks to see you again, and scolds you for thinking he was out of your league. "I'm just a guy, I'm not that special."

Kunikida may seem high-strung, and yeah, he is, but there's something about him that just does it for you. Maybe it's that he's so responsible, maybe it's that he's incredibly kind and thoughtful, or maybe it's everything. You don't know, it's hard to explain, and explain you must because when you try to confess to him he asks you why and what did he do to deserve your attention? He ponders your confession for a few hours in private before he reaches out to you. You expect to be rejected, but he accepts your offer, saying you were a shock and he's trying to have a few more unexpected experiences.

Fukuzawa likes you as a person but refuses to acknowledge you romantically given your age gap. You have to confess before he'll think about you in that way. It doesn't go smoothly--you're very quickly but politely turned down. It doesn't make your crush go away, though, and you notice that Fukuzawa seems a bit skiddish around you. When you finally get fed up and ask him why he's been acting weird ever since you asked him out, he admits that he's been thinking about you a lot and thinks that maybe he made a hasty, incorrect choice the last time you spoke about this...

Ango may not be the first to fall in love in your relationship, but once he's in love he's obsessed with you. It all starts like any office romance with a new transfer from another department. He's told you're talented and promising, but he doesn't believe it until you start actually lightening his work load and making his job easier. When you start casually calling him cute and flirting with him, he doesn't know what to think. It's unprofessional, but it's also exciting and he doesn't exactly dislike the attention. When you're off the clock and ask him out on a proper date, he says yes with only minimal hesitation. It's the best decision he's ever made.

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thrashkink-coven · 29 days ago

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“Demons are not kind. They don’t care about your personal life or problems, they’ll never ask you about your day because they don’t care. This is an intensely serious practice and there’s nothing enjoyable about it. Demons don’t care about humans, they only care about the work being done. They’ll never want to spend time with you if it’s not for a magical purpose. They’re not going to allow you to call them anything but Lord and Master. This isn’t fun or beautiful, it’s soul crushing work that’ll destroy you if you’re not careful.”

Lord Lucifer: Hey you should bake some cookies and write me a poem about all the emotions you felt today. I’m proud of you for making it through the day. I really like the way you did your hair. I’m so excited to see your next painting. Can I call you “sunflower”? You can call me daddy if you want.

(Happy Venus day btw! ✴️)

#y’all lied to me #he’s actually wonderful #lucifer deity #theistic luciferianism #luciferian witch #lucifer offering #lucifer devotee #pagan #paganism #demonolatry #deity worship #deity work #deity witchcraft #witchcraft

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oozedninjas · 1 year ago

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Heyyyy I was wondering if you could do how the boys realize they're in love with you and how they react to said realization? Maybe even how long they'd take to confess??

Sorry if that's too much in one go or if you've already done it, ily and I love your writing <3

These are technically two requests so I'll just stick to "How they realize they're in love" if that's okay :)

MDNI / Turtle guys are mid to late twenties

BAYVERSE GUYS REALIZING THEY'RE IN LOVE

---

Leonardo:

Once he notices, Leo would carefully consider the implications that come with romantic emotions and reflect upon whether or not he's willing to go through what it entails to give himself to someone.

He would make sure this isn't just a fleeting thing before making any decisions on acting upon those feelings. Once he does, he'll drop little hints that surpass obviousness.

Don't get me wrong, it isn't that he is not brave enough to make the moves; it's just that he assumes that what he has to offer is little and prefers to give you all the signs. This way, if you want a relationship with him, you have the necessary tools to let him see that you do want to be courted.

Donatello:

Donnie's sharp enough to recognize what he's feeling the moment he discerns those exquisite tingles in his chest as something beyond just excitement. Yet, like the reserved creature that he is, digesting such emotions and coming to terms with them is… another thing entirely.

I think he would tough it out for the most part. Often bombarded by intrusive thoughts of a negative reaction on your side if you were to find out. His mind plays tricks on him, making him daydream about delightful dates with you, followed by the voice of mockery asserting that could never come to happen.

He has to be realistic. It isn't logical that someone as beautiful and brilliant as you are would risk being with a non-human creature who's not even biologically compatible with you. No, he's better off as your friend.

Raphael:

He knows what he feels for you; however, he refuses to accept it in his heart (or in front of anyone else, for that matter) because it would be too painful not to be reciprocated. Nevertheless, as his feelings for you grow, so do the desires to protect you and keep you safe and secure. This makes it difficult for him to conceal his true feelings to a sharp, tenacious eye as your own.

If he comes to confess his feelings, Raphael would strive to balance his rough exterior with moments of tenderness, as he recognizes the importance of displaying his softer side to achieve more deepening emotional connections.

Mikey

Mikey's excitement and eagerness to be around you would give him away in the blink of an eye. It's cute because he holds this "We should totally date! Haha, joking, joking... UNLESS!" attitude all the time.

I think he would express his feelings in a joyful, creative form. You can expect an outpouring of artistic expressions: drawings, poems, or spontaneous acts of affection.

I think Mike's the one with a higher rate of emotional intelligence; many lessons he's learned across his journey, and in his adult years, it's easier for him to establish his limits and boundaries. With this in mind, I think he would ponder if it's worth potentially ruining his friendship with you. If the answer is yes, he goes with everything he's got.

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no1whippedcreamenjoyer · 4 days ago

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Yandere smilk hcs?

SLAMS MY HANDS DOWN

THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS

rambling below

Preface, My base HCs for Smilk are that he has BPD and CPTSD from the horrors

So as all who have read 'Never Left my Sight' know, my personal yandere Smilk went Batshit Insane from Isolation- and fell in love with Pure Vanilla solely through watching him through the souljam.

So this starts their relationship off REALLY BAD

Smilk's entire perception of PV is based on a parasocial relationship. It's never interracted with PV but expects him to react a certain way- as if they'd been friends for a long time

that's why at the end of 'never left my sight' his ass splits so hard on PV he wants to kill him

But let's talk yandere shit I think it's done before and after getting out of mind prison:

-It had a shitton of time, and nothing to do, and access to materials since the witches keep throwing garbage into the other side of the moon (HORRIFYING FAILED EXPERIMENTS)

So;

Throughout the Millenia it's been watching Pure Vanilla, it's been writing love poems, plays, songs, books, even sewing Pure Vanilla clothes

I had a scene planned where they're about to do the do and Smilk keeps trying to pick a Lingerie set for PV to wear

PV thinks this is so funny because when would it have taken the time to buy him so much lingerie while it's only had a body for like 6 months.

Shadow Milk comments that of course it didn't have time- it sewed the set he's wearing about a century ago.

Cue Pure Vanilla being fucking horrified that Shadow Milk has thought of him like THAT for at least over a century- taking a deep breath- forgiving it- and saying "I had no idea you were so good at fashion design!" (They'll talk about that LATER)

- My personal opinion for what happened in Chapter 8 with Shadow Milk realizing he wants Pure Vanilla, not just the souljam

is that, upon interracting with the Real Pure Vanilla, not the version in its head. It realized it loved the actual, genuine, flesh and blood Pure Vanilla so much more than the image watching him for a millenia put in its head

Pure Vanilla has reactions as TR that he's Never Had while Shadow Milk was watching him. It's unexpected, it's exciting, It's Incredibly Intimate to Shadow Milk that he can pull reactions from Pure Vanilla that no one else must have ever seen!

- Despite having actually risked PV crumbling a bunch of times, Shadow Milk is incredibly tender when it comes to intimacy.

Even if it wants to hurt PV, it wouldn't be any fun if PV weren't enjoying it- or was at least Into It!

- Shadow Milk watches Pure Vanilla sleep A LOT.

If it hasn't pulled Pure Vanilla into a nightmare, it's probably somewhere in his room. It loves taking in how vulnerable he looks- how that vulnerability is only its own to see.

- Shadow Milk genuinely loves Pure Vanilla, but it's never experienced anything like that before. It was Created to be a tool for the witches. It was never Supposed to be a real person. It doesn't know HOW to be normal. And witches forbid it ever Say anything to Pure Vanilla about that.

#shadowvanilla #pureshadow #puremilk #vanilla milkshake #shadow milk cookie #crk #headcanons #yandere #fics #hcs

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silhouettecrow · 1 year ago

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365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 341

Adjective: Sprightly

Noun: Grass

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Sprightly: (especially of an old person) lively, or full of energy

Grass: vegetation consisting of typically short plants with long, narrow leaves, growing wild or cultivated on lawns and pasture, and as a fodder crop; ground covered with grass; pastureland; the mainly herbaceous plant that constitutes grass, which has jointed stems and spikes of small, wind-pollinated flowers; (informal) marijuana; (informal) (British) a police informer

#only a smidge late again #mainly cos (as you may have guessed) ive had a busy day #i finished an art piece and then promptly started a new one (i dont know if ive done a turnaround (at least like this) that quickly before)#and my girlfriend and i bought more magic the gathering stuff today and played some together earlier #as per usual it was all really fun and i loved it #anyway i chose this prompt cos of my girlfriend #when i was spinning for new prompts yesterday this combo came up and my girlfriend happened to see it and they commented that they loved it #so i couldnt not choose this as a prompt #and i chose it for today cos we had such an 'us' day today that it feels rather fitting #for the record i love the prompt too #the two words together just feel very bright and colourful and alive and nature-y #and i absolutely love that #which is probably why my girlfriend loved it so much as well #if you couldnt tell im very excited to write my poem for this prompt #thanks for reading #writing #writer #creative writing #writing prompt #writeblr #trying to be a writeblr at least

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padfootagain · 6 months ago

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Love in Verses (V)

Chapter 5 : ‘But here comes the lyrebird passing through the sky’

Hi, everyone!!! Here we go with the fifth chapter! Introducing new characters, and spending some time at Trinity for this one…

Also, chose a French poem for this one because it fit the theme very well, but I couldn’t find a decent translation, so I translated the poem myself… it isn’t particularly good, sorry about that, but it’s not worse than the other translations I’ve found, sadly…

I hope you like this new chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2110

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Writing Page

Two and two four Four and four eight Eight and eight make sixteen…

Repeat! Says the teacher

Two and two four Four and four eight Eight and eight make sixteen…

But here comes the lyrebird Passing through the sky The child sees it The child hears it The child calls it

Save me Play with me Bird!

So the bird descends And plays with the child

Two and two four…

Repeat! Says the teacher

And the child plays And the bird plays with him…

Four and four eight Eight and eight make sixteen And sixteen and sixteen what do they make? They don’t make anything sixteen and sixteen And especially not thirty-two Anyway And they go away.

And the child has hidden the bird Inside his desk And all the children Hear its song And all the children Hear the music

And eight and eight leave as well And four and four and two and two In turn go away And one and one don’t linger once nor twice One by one they leave too

And the lyrebird plays And the child sings And the teacher cries :

When you are done fooling around!

But all the other children Listen to the music And the walls of the classroom Peacefully crumble.

And the windows turn back into sand The ink turns back into water The desks turn back into trees The chalk turns back into a cliff The quill turns back into a bird.

Jacques Prévert, Paroles, 1946 – original title : “Page d’écriture”

September was grey and rainy, or rather, it withheld the doom of a storm within its dark clouds. The ground was drenched, making the curb darker than usual, the earth smelling sweet and rich with water and life, the leaves glistening in darker shades of green. As Saoirse finally entered the grounds of Trinity College, her steps echoed louder than usual on the glistening pavement.

Finally. Finally, Saoirse was a college student, independent and entering adulthood. That was how she felt, anyway. Even though she still lived with her parents on the outskirts of Dublin, was still a student… at 18 she felt like entering university was the beginning of womanhood, of adulthood, and she was excited about it. Excited, and terrified.

If she knew a few people on the campus, she was the only one studying English, and the loneliness that came with the new experience of university was adding to her anxiety. She looked around, a little lost but trying to look like she knew where she was going. She was trying to reach her first meeting, this first day being dedicated to integration, an introduction to the life on campus and a quick presentation of the classes they would follow this year. The classes themselves were only starting the following week. This orientation week was focused on the ways of university, on clubs and other useful information for students.

But Saoirse had been on campus for less than ten minutes and she was already feeling overwhelmed, with the small white tents along the lawns that presented clubs for students to join in, with the crowd and its loud chatter pulling her attention in all directions…

All of a sudden, there was another undergraduate student staring down at her, an amused smile on her lips.

“You look lost! Want some help?”

She was wearing a badge from a theatre club, a tired look on her face and an hyper-active glimmer in the eyes that revealed she drank too much caffeine.

“Erm… I’m fine, I just…”

“That’s alright! It’s your first day, you’re allowed to be lost. Let me help! Where is it you’re going?”

“Erm… the English department…”

“Ha, no worries, I’ve got you! I’m an English major too! Come on!”

Before Saoirse could speak another word, this stranger had turned on her heels and was making a bee-line through the crowd. Saoirse followed her the best she could, bumping into students and apologising profusely in the process, until they had reached a second yard that was much calmer. She hurried after her guide, almost running to catch up with her.

“There is the library,” the stranger said, pointing at a large building, a sculpted globe decorating the space before its door. “Note where it is, you’ll spend most of your time there while studying here. And no matter what you do, avoid the tourist attraction around the Book of Kells. Busiest place on campus, and some real chaos over there. This side isn’t as fancy, it’s more concrete and metallic shelves than beautiful wood and carvings, but it’s quiet and withholds all the information you’ll need for your classes. We often see some of our teachers hanging around there too. Who is it you’re gonna have this year?”

“Erm… I’m not quite sure…”

“You should have your schedule during the week. If you can, avoid Mahon and Patterson. They’re not bad teachers, but they are terrible human beings. Proper gobshites the two of them. I heard H-B is teaching about Yeats this year; if you can, take this class, and avoid Mahon’s lecture about science-fiction. Trust me. On paper, it sounds that poetry is harder and more boring, but Mahon is going to reap you apart, when H-B is probably the sweetest teacher at Trinity.”

“H-B?” Saoirse asked, trying to keep up with both the fast pace of her guide and her precious information that she delivered at a relentless speed.

“Hozier-Byrne. Everybody calls him H-B around here, name’s too long. Or just Hozier. Anyway, he’s a sweetheart. He’ll actually care about whether or not you pass his class. Also, he’s got the prettiest mug on campus, so it doesn’t hurt to see him once or twice a week,” she laughed, throwing her head back like a child.

The two girls kept on chatting while they were waiting in the corridor for the meeting to start, and Saoirse tried to get as much information in as she could.

Before leaving, her guide had one last advice.

“Come to the S2S mentoring program this afternoon. I’m part of the mentors, we’ll give you a full tour and help you register for your classes. Also, we’ll help you to find your tutor among the academic staff, to get into a club or society… stuff like that. Oh, the name’s Gabi, by the way! I’m one of the mentors for the English department, so if you want, you can come and find me at the meeting.”

“Thank you so much,” grinned Saoirse.

“Hey, no worries! I used to be a lost freshwoman too, back in the days! You should go in for the boring meeting, General Session… Tomorrow’s meeting about your classes will be more interesting.”

With one last thank you, Saoirse finally entered the room, found a seat, remained silent, not daring to speak with the students around her.

She looked at the blackboard, the desk and chair and microphone for the absent professor.

Fucking hell, she was starting university…

Saoirse listened to Gabi’s advice, looked for the S2S Mentoring meeting, scheduled for 2:30 pm. It was easy to spot the exuberant student, as she laughed with her friends, and she greeted Saoirse with a grin. She followed Gabi’s group for the full tour of the campus, along with a small group of freshmen. She chatted with a couple of them, especially Donal, whose colourful nails and vibrant make-up matched his buoyant personality. They then settled in a large classroom, scattered into small groups and each mentor helped their students with registering for their classes, gave them advices and a little bit of gossip.

Gabi helped Saoirse log into the orientation website and access the right page for her to register to her classes.

“You can change the classes you’ve selected up to the 23rd,” explained Gabi, “and after tomorrow’s meeting with your tutor and the presentation organised by the department, you’ll have a clearer view of what to choose. But you can still take a look now. Also, pay attention to the schedule. You can’t select classes that are happening at the same time. You can select a few classes now already if you want, just to be sure you’ll have a spot.”

Saoirse nodded, went through the list of classes.

On the schedule, the classes about Yeats’s poetry and science-fiction were clashing. She hurried to select the class about poetry, following her mentor’s advice.

She also selected a class about modernism taught by the same Hozier-Byrne, trusting Gabi that it was worth skipping a class about Shakespeare, not that she held much regret about avoiding that class, to be fair. She registered for a class about ‘the use of gender-normative language and patriarchal norms in modern literature’, excited about this class already.

“Erm… sorry…”

She turned towards the student by her side.

“Can you show me how to get into the schedule? I didn’t understand where I should click…”

He looked a little lost, a little overwhelmed, like most people in the room, and certainly as she felt herself. Dark hair, brown eyes. An attempt at a stubble colouring parts of his cheeks.

“Sure!”

She showed him how to log into the schedule, he thanked her, a little shy.

“I’m Sean, by the way.”

She grinned.

“Saoirse.”

He seemed nice, they kept chatting for the rest of the day. She hoped they would have classes in common…

Y/N Y/L/N.

Saoirse read and re-read the name of her tutor. There was a small group of students in the classroom, ready to meet the member of the academic staff who would be in charge of their well-being for the year. Sean was part of the group too, and they sat together on the third row. Donall was there too, he joined them as soon as he spotted Saoirse.

Y/L/N. Saoirse had recognised the name immediately, belonging to the teacher in charge of what seemed to be a very feminist class.

And indeed, when you entered the room, looking tired but benevolent, Saoirse liked you immediately. There was something in the way you spoke that was gentle, patient, that sounded like you actually cared, that you were happy to meet your students, too.

You gave your students some extra-information about their classes, gave them advices depending on the majors they wanted to select for the rest of their degree. You helped them register, you answered their questions. The meeting took longer than expected, but you didn’t seem to mind.

You smiled when you noticed Saoirse had already selected your class.

“Looks like we’ll see each other every week for a couple of months!” you smiled at her and Saoirse was even more excited about your class now.

“Yeah… the class seems very interesting.”

“I’ll do my best to make my babbling interesting, indeed,” you joked, before moving to Sean’s computer to check that he was managing.

And Saoirse had such a good feeling about this year. Things would turn out great, she was certain of it.

You let yourself fall into your office chair, letting out a tired groan. You heard Andrew’s chuckle, but chose not to acknowledge it. His meeting with the students had been a little briefer, he was already in the office when you had come in.

“You’re alright?” he asked, checking on you with an amused smile still tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Exhausted.”

“It was to be expected…”

“Aren’t you exhausted too?”

“I’m on my fifth coffee of the day.”

You laughed at that.

“Hmm… looks like professors are as addicted to coffee as students.”

“It’s standard sleep-deprived diet.”

You looked over at him, and you exchanged a smile.

You weren’t friends, per say. Your break-up had made you more distant, and Andrew’s reaction to his own heartbreak had been to close in on himself. But you still got along, even though you weren’t close. A shame, you kind of regretted that. You could have been closer already, if it weren’t for your pain. Still, you chatted, and he helped you get used to Trinity, and you discussed your classes and his. You simply weren’t more than colleagues, and for now, it was fine. You couldn’t handle getting your heart broken and finding friendship at the same time. Your life was too messy for that. It was easier to build professional boundaries, and Andrew seemed to be in silent agreement. You hadn’t discussed much about your two separations, both preferring for that part of your lives to remain private, and outside the walls of Trinity.

The Heartbreak Department. You had joked about renaming your shared office that way, and Andrew had had no choice but to agree, it was quite on point. Perhaps it was this office, indeed. Maybe it was bringing bad luck, to both of you, when it came to love…

“I can’t wait for the weekend,” Andrew heaved a sigh, rubbing at his eyes before he would readjust his glasses.

“My weekend will be busy, though…”

Indeed, you had agreed to attend a party that Frank was hosting on Saturday night. He said that he had a big announcement to make, and you wondered what he meant by that. Also, his new girlfriend would be there. You hadn’t asked her name, weren’t interested in knowing anything about her, but you wanted to meet her, to see who had stolen your life away. Because that was what you had lost when Frank had left. It wasn’t just a break-up, it wasn’t a simple heartbreak… you had lost a wedding, a life you had planned and thought you would get to live. If you could have forgiven the pain of getting your heart broken, you couldn’t forgive the life that you felt had been stolen from you.

So, you were curious. Also, you were desperate, addicted, and wanted to see Frank, no matter why, where, or when…

“Mine is busy too, but orientation week is a lot.”

“It is, indeed.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, your head thrown back towards the ceiling.

You pictured Frank’s face against your eyelids, and couldn’t imagine that it had been over a month already that he had shattered your whole world…

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