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avis-writeshq · 7 months

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01 — better than revenge

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In Culver City,” Derek adds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

“Type Four?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lila?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She raises an eyebrow before nodding. “Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spencer’s brows furrow. “Everything okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Derek snorts, clapping his shoulder before moving on.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She called and asked for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“(Y/N), are you–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrug. “I will be.”

“Is it to do with Reid?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

“Mr Ryer?” Gideon calls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blink. “You know this guy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s Reid,” Derek mutters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You should talk to him,” Derek prompts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spencer blanches at the question. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Elle?”

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

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

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

He sighs, “(Y/N)–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wh– I’m still being locked up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop calling me that.”

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

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

“I am not ‘being like’ anything!”

“(Y/N).”

“Doctor, this is highly unprofessional.”

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

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

“I’m fine.”

“Who’s blood is that?”

“Detective Kim’s.”

“What– were you shot at?”

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

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

“Don’t say that.”

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

“You think she could be the UnSub?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah.”

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure kid. Totally believe you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He huffs out a laugh. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I miss you too.”

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

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

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

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

“I won’t do it again,” he promises.

“I know.”

“I really am sorry.”

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

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

You laugh again and he smiles.

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

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

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

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

next part →

full work

reblogs are always appreciated!

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

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ddejavvu · 6 months

Note

could you please write one where it's an established relationship and Spencer is too focused on the reader sitting across from him because she's got new hair/makeup/clothes, up to you. And she catches him staring so she kisses his cheek with something like "eyes on work, doctor" and walks away and Morgan and Emily snicker when her lipstick's left on his cheek PLEASE PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE could you write this one mei? 👉👈🥺

this post is 18+, minors dni.

You suppose it's your fault for having used your new set of nails so distractingly the night before. After all, why wouldn't Spencer have visions of a mere twelve hours ago, when those same french tips had been wrapped delicately wrapped around his stiff cock, ghosting along the soft skin of his belly, and nestled into the heated flesh of his balls.

"Reid," Prentiss calls, intent on wringing out his brain like a sponge to find an answer to the obscure question she's thinking of. He doesn't respond, still staring blankly at your nails.

"Reid," She tries again, tracking his eyeline. JJ's attention has been called now, because it's rare that Spencer is unfocused. She notices the same thing that Prentiss does, and you share a cheeky grin with the BAU ladies before tapping your nails on your desktop.

The clicking sounds snap Spencer out of his funk and you're equal parts amused and endeared by his immediate blush, like someone spilled pink pain over his cheeks and it had spread uncontrollably. It streaks down his neck and up his ears, but he tries maintaining some semblance of composure when he blinks up at you.

"Hm?"

"Prentiss wanted to ask you something," You speak over the girls' giggles, and he flounders in trying to straighten out the paperwork on his desk. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, tie suddenly too tight for his flushed skin to make contact with, and you take your leave so that he'll be able to offer her his undivided attention.

You use the time that it takes her to stop snickering with JJ, grabbing your empty coffee mug and taking Spencer's own in your other hand. You make for the kitchenette to refill them, dipping down to press a kiss to Spencer's cheek before you leave.

"Get your head out of the gutter, pretty boy," You croon, biting your tongue to stop your lips from lifting in a smile at the way Emily and JJ shriek over the kiss mark you'd left on his cheek.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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desperate-gay · 3 months

Text

Scary Talks At Midnight

Alex Morgan x fem!reader

a/n: just a small random blurb to my criminally underrated wife on this app

“I’m gonna get you!” You taunt, chasing the energetic little girl around the house, trying your best to tire her out.

“Mama, help me! Mommy is trying to get me!” Charlie yells, jumping into Alex’s arms so she feels safer and can see from a taller height.

When you turn the corner, you notice the little girl looking at you with a smile, so you begin to tiptoe tauntingly toward her, crouching lower to look like a monster. All of a sudden you run at her, making her shriek and giggle when you start nibbling at her leg.

“Mama, help me!”

“I told you I’d get you!” You state, letting out an evil laugh when you take the little girl out of your wife’s arms and head into your shared bedroom.

Throwing Charlie gently on the bed, you pin down her arms and continue on your nibbling fest, tickling her all over and making her laugh loudly. Alex watches from the doorway with a wide grin at the two of you together. When you first started dating three years ago, she was scared you wouldn’t be able to handle a kid, but boy did you prove her wrong.

Three years dating and one married, and she wouldn’t change a thing about you, your marriage, or your little family. She’s brought down back to earth when she hears that the giggles have stopped and you’re both now catching your breath, backs laying against the bed.

“Okay you two, you had your fun but now it’s time for bed.” Alex claps her hands in encouragement even though it still results in a whine from the little girl. “I know, bedtime is the worst!” Your wife fake agrees, shooing the little girl to her room so she can lie down.

“C’mon, Mommy! You gotta tuck me in!” Charlie shouts from down the hall which makes both you and Alex chuckle from different rooms.

Alex says her goodnight and waits out her doorway, bowing down and gesturing for you to go in dramatically. “You have been summoned.”

You shake your head at her antics and head into the room, kneeling beside the now-exhausted kid. Brushing her hair to the side, you press a kiss on her forehead and mumble, “Sweet dreams, I love you.” When you start to stand up, a tiny hand grabs yours, pulling you back down.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, sweety?” You ask, stroking her hair to soothe her to sleep. You expect her to ramble just so she can stay up longer, but what you don’t expect are the next words to come out of her mouth.

“I want a baby sister.”

Mouth falling open, you turn around to see if your wife has heard it but she’s not there, must have already gone back into your bedroom. You’re quite thankful though because you have actually been thinking about this all on your own and you don’t want to freak her out.

“We’ll see.” You whisper to Charlie’s sleeping form, pressing one last kiss to her hair before getting up and sneaking out, shutting her door quietly on the way.

Soon after you go through your nightly routine, you head over to the bed where your wife flings open the covers, patting your spot with her arms wide open. With no hesitation, you slot yourself into the brunette’s arms and snuggle up to her chest. Alex looks down with a loving smile and places a tender kiss on your forehead before grabbing the remote to start another episode of your nightly show.

You watch about four episodes and then decide to call it a night after looking at the time. Lying on your stomach, your head is turned towards the bedroom door and away from Alex. You try your best to go to sleep but with the thoughts of earlier tonight, you start wondering if Alex would even want another kid. Maybe she’s too busy with her career or maybe she just thinks one is enough.

With a slight huff, you turn your head, facing your wife’s peaceful state. A twitch of a smile crawls up on your face, so you decide to snake your hand under her shirt and scratch her stomach to which she replies with a satisfied hum, signaling she’s still somewhat awake.

Running your eyes down her face, all your worries leave your body and just positive thoughts overcome your mind. Alex, you, Charlie, and a baby having a picnic at a park, laughing and playing around, or you and the kids cheering on Alex at one of her games. Maybe you should bring it up now before you chicken out and never bring it up.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” She hums, raising her eyebrows slightly but keeping her eyes closed.

“Can I talk to you about something?” You bite your lip and nervously twist your foot around in the sheets, causing Alex’s eye to creak open from knowing your tell.

“Of course, darling. What’s going on?” She rasps, shuffling closer to you so your noses almost touch, and loops her leg into yours, trying to remain as close as possible.

“You know I love you, Charlie, and our little family,” you stop to clear your throat while Alex nods in encouragement before continuing, “but have you ever thought about making our family a little less…little?

“Are you asking me if I want another baby?” Your wife asks with a smile breaking over her face as you nod with your lip tucked into your mouth, holding back your own grin. “Yes! Of course, I want to have another baby with you!” She jumps on you, attacking your face with kisses as you laugh from both the sensation and the overwhelming joy you’re experiencing.

Pulling back, you both have lovesick looks in your eyes, now just staring at one another. Your hand reaches up and strokes her cheek, quickly pulling her down into a very much-needed kiss. Your tongues lazily work against each other, both still tired from the time of night it is.

“I hope you know, you’re carrying.” Alex mumbles against your lips, making you laugh into the kiss.

“I figured. The tougher one’s gotta do it.” You tease, turning away from her, pretending to go back to sleep only to be yanked and pulled into her front. Alex hums softly, relaxing with her arms wrapped around you and the excitement for the future. “We’ll talk about this more tomorrow, baby. Let’s go to bed.” You murmur.

“Yes we will, and maybe we can start the baby-making tomorrow.” Alex purrs, tugging at your earlobe with her teeth, but soon groaning in pain from your foot making contact with her leg.

“Alexandra Patricia Morgan, it is too late for you to be thinking like that.”

#alex morgan x reader #alex morgan #woso x reader #woso fic #woso imagine #woso

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bedsyandco · 6 months

Text

3 times people asked if you and Auston were together + 1 time you finally are?

note: been in a little Auston mood lately and I always enjoy writing my silly little leafs. Feat. teammates JT, Willy, Mitch, Morgan and Matty Marts (miss you king) I don't love this but it's been sitting in my drafts for 2 weeks so...this is a little silly especially the last part

warnings: none? i think…

wc: 1.2k

1 ★ Christmas

It was one of the few days off the guys were given across the season and most of the team were gathering at the Tavares house for christmas dinner. A tradition John started when he became captain.

Auston was watching you from across the room, a smile on his face as he saw you talk to Tessa about something. His smile widened as he watched you throw your head back laughing. When he looked back in front of him, he found 4 pairs of eyes staring him down.

“What?” he asks

“Nothing,” John, Mitch, Willy and Morgan say all at the same time.

“Here we go,” Auston says rolling his eyes

“We didn’t say anything,” Morgan says and Auston gives him a deadpan look.

“Yet” Morgan amends his statement

“Just get it over with,” Auston sighs

“You brought a date,” Morgan starts

“To a team event,” John says

“A woman. A really hot woman.” Willy says grinning a little when Auston glares at him.

“You never bring dates to team gatherings. Ever.” Mitch says

“First of all, it’s not a date, she’s a friend. The same friend I’ve been telling you guys about for months-”

“In all those months you failed to mention that she’s a woman,” Mo points out

“A very hot woman,” Willy says again and lets out a little laugh when Auston punches him on the arm.

“I don’t see why that matters,” Auston mumbles

“Mm you don’t?” Mitch asks looking at him pointedly

“So there’s nothing going on between the two of you?” John asks

“No. Now are we done with the interrogations?” Auston asks and wait for them all to nod before making his way over to you. He wraps his arms around waist from behind as you look out the window admiring the christmas lights.

You shriek when you feel his cold nose press into your neck.

“You little rat, don’t do that!” you say turning around and looping your arms around his neck.

“What you just call me? A rat? Careful, or you’re walking home tonight in the cold.” he says, pinching your waist and you laugh.

“You would never let me walk home alone…would you?” you ask pouting slightly when he jokingly takes a few seconds to think about it.

“No, of course not. I would just be punishing myself since I’d be worried sick about you the entire time.” he says and you smile, resting your cheek against his chest.

“Let’s go eat, I’m starving,” Auston says, squeezing your hip and you laugh.

“When are you not?”

Throughout dinner Auston has a hand on your thigh, tracing patterns lazily, and keeps his gaze on you, choosing to ignore the piercing stares of his teammates.

2 ★ Playoffs

“Auston, wait up, I’ve got something for you.” JT says as the guys all walk to the parking lot after practice.

Auston grimaces when John hands him the jacket, knowing he did it now so that Mitch would see it.

“Is that a…no way.” Mitch says, grabbing the jacket out of Auston’s grip and holding it out in front of him to examine the back. “Is this for who I think it is?”

“Your mom?” Auston asks immaturely and Mitch glares at him.

“The mom jokes are never funny.” Mitch replies and John shakes his head at them, saying goodbye and getting in his car, leaving Auston there to deal with Mitch on his own.

“She gets a jacket huh? What’s next a key to your apartment?” Mitch asks teasingly and his eyebrows shoot to his hairline when Auston doesn’t reply, simply snatching the jacket back and putting it on the passenger seat of his car.

“Oh my God. She already has a key, doesn’t she? Does she have a drawer?” Mitch asks and Auston sighs knowing Mitch wasn’t going to let him go home until he had the answers he was looking for.

“Yes she has a key. And yes she has a drawer, but it’s not like that! Sometimes she comes over and it’s way too late to drive back to her place, so she stays the night and then she has to go to work the next day and she needs something to wear- You know what it doesn’t matter, you’re just going to make it something it isn’t anyway.” Auston says resigned

“Something it isn’t? She has a WAG jacket and a key and drawer in your apartment. Pretty sure it is what I think it is. Why are you so against it anyway, do you not feel anything for her?” Mitch asks, tone serious. Everyone could see that there was intense chemistry between you and Auston, and Mitch knew him. He wouldn’t give a key to just anyone.

“I don’t have time for a relationship right now and we really are just good friends,” Auston claims, hoping Mitch will drop the subject.

Sensing Auston is done with the conversation, Mitch tries to get one last word in before he leaves.

“So uh, when do I get a drawer and key to your apartment? We're friends…”

3 ★ Mitch's wedding

Mitch was standing next to Matt and despite it being his wedding it felt as if at this very moment all eyes were on the two people on the dance floor. You and Auston. It was almost as if people were in a trance, not able to look away as Auston bends down to whisper something in your ear.

“I’m glad he finally has someone,” Matt says

“Oh they’re not together,” Mitch replies and laughs when Matt’s jaw nearly drops

“There’s no way,” Matt says turning his gaze back to the dance floor just as you rest your head on Auston’s chest and his hands slip dangerously low on your back, resting just above your ass.

Matt doesn’t buy it that there’s nothing going on between you and Auston. Having experienced it himself, he knows what that type of chemistry, intimacy and feelings look like.

“People are staring,” you mumble into Auston’s chest and he looks around the room. He was so caught up on you he didn’t even notice that there was barely anyone else on the dance floor, a lot eyes on the two of you.

“What can I say, we put on a good show,” Auston says and you scoff.

“It’s you they’re looking at,” you reply and Auston shakes his head.

“Trust me baby. No one is looking twice at me when you’re standing next to me in that dress. You look stunning,” he says, and your cheeks flush as his eyes run down from your eyes, to your breasts, down to your legs and all the way back up.

“Aus?” you whisper and the way you look at him nearly knocks the breath right out of his lungs because he knows what you’re about to say.

“I know. You don’t need to say it. I feel the same way,” he says and pulls you closer again, kissing your temple and making eye contact with Mitch and Matt across the room, both of them laughing when Auston discreetly flips them of behind your back.

+1 ★

liked by mitchmarner, morganreilly and others.

austonmatthews: happy birthday to the best friend I could ask for. so blessed to have you in my life. thank you for everything you do for me. I love you❤️

view all comments

mitchmarner: feel so betrayed that you called her your best friend. I see how it is.

willynylander: wait until you find out that they've been dating for almost 2 months and he didn't tell you

mattymarts: no way they're finally dating?

mitchmarner: 2 MONTHS?

mitchmarner: you can stay in Arizona. that's where liars belong.

morganreilly: if he stays in AZ who's gonna get you all those points?

mitchmarner: actually come back so I can yell at you

yourusername: love you🩷

sydmartin: happy birthday love! 😚

username22: there's so much going on in this comment section I think we're completely skipping over the fact that Auston has a gf??

leafsfan3416: mitch's comments😭��

user96: they're so cute

#⇢ ˗ˏˋ 📂 bedsyandco works!#⇢ ˗ˏˋ 📜 cam's fics #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews fic #auston matthews fanfic #auston matthews x y/n #hockey blurb #nhl blurb #hockey fic #nhl fic #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction

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vintagecarat · 6 months

Text

Romance Analysis Unit

Summary: You like Spencer. Spencer likes you. Somehow, you’re the only ones on the team who can’t see it - and that calls for some BAU intervention.

A/N: Remember this? Yeah, I’m reposting it as one big fic rather than two little fics, because I’m impulsive when it comes to my writing and I can’t make permanent decisions. Please excuse any spelling and/or grammar mistakes.

Enjoy the fic, and have a fantastic day <3

Note(s): gn!reader & no pronouns used, mentions of alcohol, mention(s) of canon-typical violence, reader gets hurt (non-life threatening), mentions of blood, all the clichés rolled into one, possible cringe (I don’t usually write romance and I might’ve gone too cliché lol.)

Word Count: 4056

* * *

It had been one year, seven months and sixteen days since you’d joined the BAU.

And it had been one year, seven months and nine days since you’d realized that you had a crush on Spencer Reid.

It sounded so childish. A crush, as if you were back in elementary school and thinking that you were in love with the boy who sat two seats to the left of you. You’d liked people in the past, and you’d had partners in the past, but there was something about liking Spencer that was different.

It was almost as if you were facing your first love for the first time all over again.

You’d quickly decided that it was something that you wanted to keep to yourself. You weren’t too keen on becoming the center of a workplace romance, especially not as the newest recruit still eager to prove yourself.

During a particularly wild night out, however, your plan to keep your crush a secret went flying out of the nearest window, along with any shred of dignity you had remaining after drinking one too many shots.

Penelope had been the first one you’d told, which had definitely been a foolish move on your part, but you were too drunk in the moment to make any logical decisions. Emily and JJ had gone to the bar, leaving you and Penelope alone to guard the table in the corner. She’d brought up the topic, and you’d naturally followed the conversation.

You wished you could’ve taken a photo of her face the moment she processed the words that were coming out of your mouth.

Once Penelope knew, it was only a matter of time before Emily and JJ knew. Considering how loud Penelope had shrieked at them in excitement, the entire bar most likely knew.

“Place your bets, everyone,” Emily had shouted over the music, slamming a twenty-dollar bill onto the table, “How long until Garcia tells Morgan?”

It barely even took an hour. Emily ended up winning her own bet.

Derek practically cornered you in the bullpen the next time he saw you, failing miserably to hide a huge smirk as he showed you his phone and the, often unintelligible, texts from Penelope.

With the alcohol out of your system and the devastating hangover a painful memory, you wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole. You severely regretted letting Emily talk you into those Raspberry Bombs.

From that moment on, you noticed that the team was messing with you. You didn’t have any proof, but you were sure of it.

You’d enter the conference room to find that the only seat remaining was next to Spencer. You’d find yourself paired up with Spencer more often during cases. You and Spencer would frequently be the last two members left in the bullpen at the end of the day.

It wasn’t as if you particularly minded. You and Spencer were best friends, you had been from the moment you stepped into the bullpen and made a comment about the book he had on his desk. You were used to being around him, but it was a lot harder to act as if everything was normal when you were on edge ninety-percent of the time. You were always wondering if he knew anything about the crush you had on him, or if someone else was about to blurt out the secret that you hoped to keep hidden. It was a lot easier when you were the only person you had to think about.

“Guys,” JJ called for everyone’s attention as she made her way through the bullpen, a case file in her hands, “We’ve got a case.”

“Bad?”

JJ simply grimaced.

You sighed, rising from your seat and heading to the conference room alongside the rest of the team, “Of course it is.”

It didn’t surprise you to see that the seat beside Spencer was the only one available. As you slid into it, you caught Emily smirking at you from across the table. You shook your head at her, though you couldn’t stop a tiny smile from ghosting your lips.

As you’d, regretfully, predicted, the case was a bad one. Not that there were ever any good ones.

You’d been called to a small town in Wyoming after a frantic call from the police department. Three victims had been found in the town’s frozen lake with anchors tied to their ankles to keep them below the surface. A fourth victim had gone missing, and there was no doubt that she would end up like the others if she wasn’t found, as much as nobody wanted to admit it.

It was late, almost 11:00 p.m., and you were no closer to solving the case than you had been when you’d first arrived. It was as if the unsub was always three steps ahead of you.

You’d spent a good portion of the afternoon scouring through decade old case files. The lead detective was convinced that it was related to a similar case that had happened in the 1990s. You hadn’t found any striking similarities between the two and you were beginning to wonder if there would be any at all. He was clutching at straws, desperately trying to close the case as quickly as possible. You couldn’t fault him for that.

Just as the words on the case file were beginning to blur into one large amalgamation, a gentle hand landed on your shoulder, “Hey,” JJ said, “We’re all heading to the hotel.”

“You go ahead,” you waved dismissively, stifling a yawn, “I’m going to finish looking over these files, and…”

“Hotch’s orders,” she cut you off, “You need a break. We all do.”

You looked to the doors of the precinct and saw the rest of the team ready to leave, muttering amongst themselves in a tired conversation. Aaron raised his eyebrows, almost expectantly, at you.

“Alright,” you didn’t bother trying to hide another yawn, “I’m coming.”

You stood up on unsteady legs and padded after JJ, moving as if your brain wasn’t in control of your body. You were so caught up in the details of the case that you hadn’t realized how tired you actually were, but the sudden rush of air that hit you as you exited the building made you even drowsier. You clumsily climbed into the SUV and let your head fall tiredly back against the seat.

“We’re here,” someone shook your shoulder, “Wake up.”

Your eyes snapped open. Spencer was standing beside you on the sidewalk, holding the car door open with a slight twinge of color on his cheeks.

“You coming?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Sorry,” you climbed out of the car, “I didn’t even realize I’d fallen asleep.”

“I did. You fell asleep on me,” he said, “And you kicked me a couple of times, I think.”

You flushed a little, coughing sheepishly, “Sorry.”

The rest of the team were already waiting at the front desk when you entered the hotel. You and Spencer joined the others, and you made a point of ignoring the sly looks Derek and Emily were sending you.

Aaron finished his conversation with the receptionist and moved back over to the team, keycards in hand, “They don’t have enough rooms for all of us. It looks like we’re sharing.”

If Spencer noticed the subtle smirks and side glances the team sent in your direction, he never mentioned them.

He nudged your shoulder, “Are you okay with sharing?”

“Yeah, sure,” you smiled at him, taking the keycard Aaron was holding out to you, “I’m sleeping on the bed nearest the window this time.”

“That’s not fair,” Spencer followed you as you made your way to the elevator, “I like sleeping near the window.”

“Not happening. You slept near the window last time.”

As the elevator shot up to your designated floor, you noticed that your heart seemed to be thudding quicker than usual in your chest, and you felt a small wave of anxiousness wash over you. Sharing a room with Spencer wasn’t a new experience, but you hadn’t openly admitted your feelings to anyone during those times. You’d barely admitted them to yourself, and feelings were a lot easier to ignore when they weren’t out in the open.

“Even the elevators are fancy,” you muttered, casting a quick glance over the elevator’s plus interior, “For a small town, they sure do have nice hotels.”

Small talk. You hated small talk, but you found yourself unable to come up with anything to say other than the most mundane topic you could think of. It wasn’t you, and it was obvious.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Hm?”

“You hate small talk,” Spencer said, and you bit back a laugh at that, “And you’re pulling at your sleeves. You always pull your sleeves down to your fingers when you’re nervous.”

You looked down at your hands. You hadn’t even realized you’d been tugging at the sleeves of your jumper until Spencer mentioned it. You immediately dropped them.

“So,” he continued, “You’re clearly nervous about something. And it’s not the case, because cases never make you nervous.”

“Really?” you said, incredulous, “You’re analyzing me?”

The elevator reached your floor and the door's opener, “I’m not analyzing,” Spencer stepped out, “I’m simply making an astute observation.”

“Okay, well, stop astutely observing me,” you followed him, “I’d tell you if there was something wrong. You know I would.”

You weren’t necessarily lying. You’d always ended up telling Spencer about anything that was bothering you. You simply decided he didn’t need to know about this one particular thing.

Spencer looked back at you briefly, as if he didn’t believe a word coming out of your mouth, but he never said anything. Instead, he took the keycard from you and held it against the lock, waiting for the light to turn green before pushing the door open.

“Oh.”

“What?” you stepped around him, “Oh.”

You only had one bed.

You were going to kill Penelope.

“I’ll take the couch.”

“I can sleep on the couch.”

You and Spencer finished your sentences at the same time, and you turned to look at each other, almost incredulous.

“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch either,” you argued, “You’re way too tall, it’ll kill your back,” you threw your bag onto the couch before he could complain, “There. Done.”

Spencer frowned and reluctantly put his own bag on the bed, “Fine. But we’re swapping tomorrow night,” he told you, “You’re not sleeping on the couch the entire time we’re here.”

“Deal,” your lips curled into a small smirk, “I told you I’d be sleeping near the window.”

From your space on the couch, you could see the glowing green alarm clock on the bedside table. A strange commodity for a hotel room. It almost looked alien.

2:32 a.m.

You couldn’t sleep, and not only because your sleep schedule was an absolute mess. Your side still burned and, if you gently put pressure on the area, you could still feel the deep wound through the layers of bandages.

Almost three days into the case, and you finally thought you’d had a solid lead. It had taken a lot of digging, but Penelope had eventually discovered the unsub’s hunting ground, an old speakeasy hidden so deep in the town that nobody had been able to trace it. You were the closest in victimology so you’d agreed to go undercover to catch him.

All you’d ended up with was a knife deep in your side as the unsub escaped you once again.

You’d been in the hospital for hours after that. The knife had gone so deep that it was close to catching something vital. The doctor’s told you that you were lucky to be alive. You’d spent most of the afternoon in that hospital bed, listening to the monotonous sound of beeping machines and. After a concerned lecture from Aaron (he’d told you not to follow the unsub, but you hadn’t exactly listened), you were bandaged up and sent on your way.

Spencer had told you to take the bed, almost forcing you into it at one point. But you’d seen the way he’d tried to discreetly stretch out his cramp throughout the day, and you were far too stubborn for your own good, so you refused his offer and tried to sleep on the couch for the night.

You huffed a little in pain, shifting uncomfortably. You couldn’t find a position that didn’t make your bandages rub against your wound. You began to feel a dampness slowly seeping through your clothes, and you cursed under your breath.

“No, no, no,” you muttered, pulling your shirt up and surveying your body. You could see where the blood had begun to soak through the bandages again, “Damn it.”

You pushed yourself off the couch and tip-toed across the room. You didn’t want to wake Spencer, especially not in your current state. You kept a hand pressed tightly to your side as you moved, not wanting to get blood on the hotel room’s carpet. The owners were lovely people, and you didn’t want to ruin their day with your mess. Every step made you wince and take a sharp breath as the pain stung you.

A muffled noise from the bed caught your attention, and you saw Spencer begin to stir. He gently said your name as he sat up, staring at you with bleary eyes, “What are you doing?” he looked you up and down, and then his eyes landed on the blood, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you told him, though you clearly weren’t, “I think the stitches came undone, or something. It’s fine,” you waved his worries away, “Go back to sleep.”

Spencer did the opposite. He clambered out of bed, lighting up the room so that you could both see each other. You noticed that, while he slept in a pair of pajamas, the buttons on them were slightly undone towards the top. You’d never noticed that before, and you weren’t too sure why you were noticing it at all.

“You’re not fine,” his eyes were focused on the blood as he stood up and took a step closer to you, “You’re bleeding.”

“Well done, Captain Obvious,” you joked, though you winced again as your little laugh made your side hurt, “I told you, it’s fine. I’ll redress it, and...” you stopped talking as you noticed the look in his eyes. You weren’t entirely sure what it was, but it made your heart thud a little bit faster.

“Let me see.”

“Spencer.”

“You can barely see if yourself, and it’s obviously hurting you,” his sentence was somewhat demanding, and yet there was a soft, concerning tone to his voice, “Let me see. Please.”

You sighed, and gingerly lifted your shirt high enough for him to see it, “It looks worse than it is.”

Spencer gently pulled away the loose bandages and inspected the open wound, his eyes never leaving your body, “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, “You’re not patching yourself back up.”

You didn’t have a chance to reply as he darted into the bathroom where you kept the supplies the hospital had given you. Your mouth was hanging open slightly. You’d never heard Spencer talk to you in a tone like this one.

“Here. Sit.” he emerged from the bathroom, patting the space beside him on the bed. His eyes kept darting between your eyes and your blood covered side, “You don’t want it getting worse.”

You hesitated for a moment, “Spencer…” you knew that there was no point arguing with him, and your wound hurt the longer it was left open, “Fine.”

You sat down beside him, your hands curling even tighter around the hem of your shirt as a stinging pain shot through you. It wasn’t the first time Spencer had helped you clean up a wound after you’d been injured in the field, but this time felt a little too different.

“Ow.”

“Sorry,” Spencer’s voice was a gentle whisper against your ear, “Sorry.”

Spencer’s touch was so gentle on your skin that it almost didn’t feel as though he was touching you at all. You wouldn’t have been sure if he was touching you at all if not for the way he wrapped the bandages around your so tight that they felt like a strangely comforting hug.

“There,” Spencer said, almost proudly, “Done.”

You glanced down at your side for a moment before dropping your shirt. It didn’t even seem to hurt anymore, and you noticed that he kept his hands on your hips, “Thanks, Spencer.”

You turned to look at him, and it suddenly felt as if time had come to a standstill. The tension in the air between the two of you was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Your mind seemed to be racing as fast as your heart was.

And, suddenly, your lips were on his. Your brain barely had time to register your own actions, but your body immediately reacted. Your hands found the collar of his pajama shirt and you tugged on it slightly, as if you were trying to pull him closer to you.

The kiss was tender, and yet it was one that was so full of desire and affection. Warmth flooded your entire body as your stomach seemed to explode with swarms of nervous butterflies. A small part of your brain couldn’t believe that this moment was genuinely happening. You’d thought about this for far too long.

After a few seconds, you pulled away, and only after seeing the startled expression on Spencer’s face and the faint blush that crept up his neck did you realize what you’d done.

“Spencer…” your mouth opened and closed, but no words seemed to come out, “Spencer, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

Your panicked ramblings were cut off as Spencer pressed another quick kiss to your lips.

“Shut up,” he smiled at you, and he pressed his index finger to your lips to silence you, “Just… Just shut up, for a minute.”

Spencer had never told you to shut up before. If it were in any other context, you’d be rather offended. In this context, however, you were happy to keep your mouth shut.

“You didn’t mean to, what? You didn’t mean to kiss me?”

“No. I mean… Yes, but also no, but…”

“I thought I told you to shut up.”

You pressed your lips together in a fine line, “Sorry.”

Spencer’s hands left your hips and he took your hands in his own. He squeezed them gently, and he softly drew little circles onto your palms with his thumbs, “You kissed me.”

You were more than ready for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. Spencer seemed to notice your discomfort because his grip on your hands tightened, almost as if he was attempting to keep you from running.

“I’m glad you kissed me.”

You couldn’t have stopped the surprised squeak that escaped you even if you’d tried, “What?!”

Spencer chuckled a little at your reaction, and you could see that he was still blushing a slight shade of pink, “I’m glad you kissed me,” he repeated, as if it was the simplest thing in the world, “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, too.”

“You… You…” your mouth was hanging open, and your eyes were wide. You must’ve looked like an absolute idiot, “You have…?”

“Of course, I did, or do, I suppose.”

This conversation was going in an entirely different direction to how you’d assumed it was. You’d never seen Spencer look or talk with so much affection before. It was as if, in that moment, you were the only two people that mattered.

Spencer said your name with so much love in his tone that it snapped you out of your shocked state, “I like you.”

For a single moment in time, it felt as if the world had stopped spinning. You simply stared, unable to do much of anything else. There was a sharp tug at your heart, and a cascade of butterflies filled your stomach.

“You… You do…?”

“Are you capable of putting a sentence together, or not?” Spencer laughed, and he interlaced his fingers with yours, “Yes, I do. A lot, actually,” he smiled at you, and there was a hint of teasing, “And it doesn’t exactly take a genius to work you out.”

You cracked a smile, and your shocked expression gave way to a relieved and delighted one, “I really like you, too.”

“Do you? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Shut up.”

“Shutting up.”

You giggled, and you never giggled. You knew this crush was childish, but this was on another level entirely.

“Are you giggling?”

“No.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Spencer grinned at you, and then his lips connected with yours.

The kiss seemed more affectionate than earlier, and a lot more passionate. Your hands wound around his neck, and his hands found a comfortable resting place on your waist. It was as if you were made to be kissing each other.

It could’ve been seconds, or it could’ve been minutes. You weren’t entirely sure how long it had been, but you eventually pulled away from each other, and you were both a little breathless from the intensity.

You let your forehead rest against Spencer’s, and you smiled, “I hate to ruin the mood and everything, but…” your eyes flitted back and forth to the couch, “Does this mean I don’t have to sleep on the couch, anymore?”

“Absolutely not,” Spencer pulled you a little closer, “You’re never sleeping on a couch ever again.”

“Good,” you smirked at him, and you practically dragged him down onto the bed beside you. You curled into him, letting yourself rest comfortably against his chest, “The bed has better company, anyway.”

Spencer kissed the top of your head, and he ran a gentle hand up and down your back, “Sure does.”

“Penelope Garcia! I’m going to kill you!”

You stormed through the halls of the BAU and entered her office, slamming the door open with such a bang that it made the room shudder.

Penelope grinned as she spun around in her chair to face you, “Ah, hello, my sweet angel,” she spoke with a beaming grin on her face, “Do you require my assistance?”

“You little…” you stepped a little closer, though it was hard to look threatening when your face was a deep shade of red, “You gave me and Spencer a room with a single bed?!”

“I did no such thing.”

“Penelope…”

“Ah, my dearest, it’s not me you need to talk to,” she leaned forwards in her chair, as if she had a secret to tell you, “I was the one who booked the rooms, yes, but I wasn’t the one who handed out the keys, was I?”

You hesitated as her words sunk in, and then your mouth dropped open in a mix of shock and humiliation, “You… You mean…”

Penelope grinned. She could practically see the gears turning in your head, and it made her laugh, “Oh, I mean exactly what you’re thinking, sweetie.”

“Hotch set us up?!”

You didn’t even bother to wait for her response. You turned your heel and marched out of her office, leaving Penelope laughing to herself in the background. There was going to be a rampage at the BAU.

“Aaron Hotchner! I’m going to kill you!”

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

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allzelemonz · 6 months

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Dare: The Van der Linde Boys X Male Reader

(Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Micah Bell, Sean MacGuire, Javier Esquella)

Fictober Prompt: Day 17, Multi Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘fella’ and ‘man’, heavy masculine implication Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: (have you ever been in a men’s locker room and things got a little weird), smut, background relationships, masturbation, hand jobs, kissing, oral sex, blow jobs, dirty talk, facial, cum swallowing, Micah being an asshole, flirting, casual sex, everyone is gay but especially Bill Summary: Drunk Sean wanting to get off prompts a dare to jerk off and last longer than anyone else at the fire. Gay chaos of a sort ensues.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Arthur nearly shrieks, his head turning away from a much drunker Sean.

“Oh, come on now, Englishman.” Sean giggles. “We’re all men here, ain’t no trouble at all, is it?”

His hand palms at the bulge in his pants. A bulge that has only now been noticed and has the rest of camp’s attention. Bill fixes his eyes for a few seconds before he looks away, shifting his legs nervously. You try to look almost anywhere else.

Sean grins. “Ya know what, fellas, I bet you I can get myself off ‘fore any a’ you.”

Micah scoffs. “We all heard yer whore goin’ off ‘bout how ya can’t last, cowpoke.”

Sean hisses, stilling his hand. “Fine, then I bet I can ‘least outlast a greasy arse of man like you.”

“What?” Javier grimaces. “You want us all to sit here with our dicks out?”

“Embarrassed, Mister Escuella?” Sean laughs, giving him wavy eyebrows.

“We’re not all gonna jerk off in front of each other.” You mutter. “That’s insane.”

Sean sits up, putting a falsely offended hand over his chest. “That ain’t fair, big man.” A grin grows over his face. “What if I dared all a’ ya?”

“A dare?” Charles mutters.

Sean proudly puts his hand over his bulge. “I dare each a ya ta last longer than the legend Sean MacGuire. An’ whoever lasts longest, I’ll give ya my share a’ the job.”

The men around the fire shuffle, some hiding their own erections, others simply uncomfortable. It’s just a handful of the young men here, sent out for a train job. Arthur stares into the fire, as does Charles, Bill glances all around as he tries not to look at anyone at all, Micah and Javier seem more insulted than anyone. A dare is an odd thing, often able to make a man do things he never would, stupid things at that. And one like this, as odd as it is, is almost a challenge to each one of your own masculinity. Everything about dicks is.

You assume that’s why it’s Micah that starts unfastening his pants first. “Fine.” He mutters.

And Javier follows, wordless. Then Bill, fumbling quickly. Sean flicks his eyes between the rest of you as he fishes himself out. You admit, confident in your manhood or not, a dare is a dare so you pull your dick out as well. Arthur grumbles something to himself, doing the same. Charles is the last, seemingly embarrassed and likely thankful that his complexion hides most of the heat in his cheeks unlike most of you.

“Alright.” Sean says proudly. “Everybody gives a good effort, whatever ya like, long as ya don’t stop. Huh?”

Nods follow, each man showing their nerves in little bits and averting their eyes as much as they can. Plenty of you have been naked in front of each other or just caught glimpses during a piss break, but it’s much odder with this context to see each other’s dicks in hand.

“Count a’ three then.” Sean grins. “One! Two…! Three!”

You lick your hand and wrap your fingers around yourself, focusing down on that sight as opposed to anyone else. You flick your wrist loosely, moving slow and trying to ignore how the shivers spread over you. If you were alone it wouldn’t be much stimulation, but knowing you’re surrounded by six other men makes it just a little more exciting.

When you chance a glance up you find shamelessly wandering eyes and slow strokes all around. Arthur’s face is flushed red as his eyes stare around, the most shame anyone has. Sean lets noise spill from him easily, his hand the first to move faster. He doesn’t last long past that, Micah laughing at him as he releases.

“Shit…” Sean sighs, staring down at the mess of his pants.

Some of the other men still, looking at the loser of the little competition.

“Well don’t stop on my account.” Sean says with a smile. “Winner gets my share a’ the job, remember?”

The slow strokes continue.

Sean looks around for a moment before you see a grin spread over his face as he tucks himself away. “‘a course, that don’t mean I can’t play favorites.”

“The hell’s that mean?” Bill mutters.

Sean stands, slowly making his way over to Micah. “Ain’t like ya need the money, do ya?”

Micah eyes the Irishman warrily, but makes no move to stop him from dropping to his knees. Sean shocks everyone around the fire when he takes Micah in his mouth. Micah hisses, moving his hand out of Sean’s way and into his tangled red hair. Bill gasps next to you, his eyes fixed on the sight. You look away, the thought of Sean’s share of money paying for a nicer saddle or something keeping you restrained. Micah caves, gripping Sean’s hair and fucking into his mouth until he releases.

Sean coughs and splutters, swallowing most of the cum before he can pull himself away. “Least…” Sean spits. “Least you ain’t winnin’, ya lousy arse. When’s the last time ya wash that little thing a’ yours anyway?”

Micah scowls at him, tucking himself away. “You wanna play rough, MacGuire, fine.”

It’s like a cloud of hated lust washes the sense from everyone, both Micah and Sean moving to a target they don’t want winning.

As Arthur glares at Micah, Sean smirks. “New rule, boys. Ya get picked by somebody that’s out, ya gotta let ‘em try fer at least a minute.”

“That’s stupid.” Arthur mutters, eyeing Micah as the blond smirks down at him.

“Only fair, Morgan.” Micah says. “I ain’t gonna be the only fool that got out on a technicality.”

Arthur grumbles, but doesn’t stop Micah from gripping him and stroking furiously. Your heart skips when Sean’s eyes meet yours and he takes a few steps forward.

“No hard feelings, big man, Bill said he’d buy me a drink.” Sean snickers as he drops to his knees in front of you.

You shudder when he touches you, your hot skin buzzing at his cool fingers. But before you can blink, his mouth has engulfed your entire length. Sean is far too good at this. He bobs his head and you will yourself not to give in for the minute he has.

Across the fire, Arthur shoves Micah away. “Ya had yer chance, sick bastard.”

Micah grunts, wiping his hand on his pants before turning to Bill and starting his process again. Bill moans at the touch, struggling not to buck up into Micah’s hand. You’ve lost track of Sean’s minute, but he wasn’t far behind Micah so you shove at his shoulder.

“Better luck next time.” You say, your voice shaking a bit as you replace your hand.

Sean grins up at you, whispering. “Hope ya win.”

Likely because he’s losing his promised drink with the way Bill is shutting under Micah’s touch. Just as Sean reaches Javier to tease, Bill releases with a gasp. Micah grins to himself but you catch it, you also notice how he doesn’t stop as Bill shakes but instead strokes him through it.

“Get Morgan.” He mutters.

Bill nods, sweat covering his face. Micah straightens himself and glances between you and Charles, opting for you after a few seconds.

“Sorry, cowpoke.” He mutters. “Just rather touch you than him.”

“Fuck off, Micah.” You say through gritted teeth.

Micah smiles at you as he sits down next to you, leaning close as his arm wraps around your waist and his hand closes on your dick. “That ain’t any way ta talk. I’m ‘bout ta get ya off, ain’t I?”

For as much of an ass as Micah is, he’s good at this. Your mind wanders, picturing all the times you’ve seen Micah by the fire cleaning his guns. His fingers wrapped around the barrel as he drags the cloth over the metal.

“Shit!” You gasp.

Micah’s hand feels better than Sean’s mouth did, fast and furious strokes making you have to stop yourself from squirming. A low groan from Javier takes him out as he fills Sean’s throat, the Irishman not pulling off like he did with Micah and choosing to swallow it all this time. Only a moment later, Arthur mutters a curse as he releases onto Bill’s face and dirties the man’s beard. He mumbles an apology as Bill grumbles about it, both of them blushing deeply.

“Alright, alright.” Sean says. “Let’s give our finalists a chance.”

Micah leans a little closer as he takes his hand back. “Win this, cowpoke.”

You shutter as his breath hits your neck.

Sean grins. “Hands away now, boys! Take a breather.”

Charles pulls his hand back, resting it on his thigh as he eyes the group. You swallow thickly, still feeling all the heat from Sean and Micah’s attempts. Charles hasn’t even been touched once, he has the advantage.

“How should we do this, boys?” Sean asks, turning to the group of losers. “Let ‘em keep at it, help ‘em out?”

“This is stupid.” Arthur grumbles.

Bill is too occupied with trying to get the cum out of his beard to answer.

Javier is still catching his breath from his orgasm.

Micah shrugs.

“Fine.” Sean grins. “I’ll be the judge ‘ere. Javier an’ Bill.” He points to you. “Ya work on ‘em an’ Arthur an’ Micah get Charles.”

No one moves for a moment. You look over and share a sympathetic look with Charles.

Sean groans. “Come on, boys! Have a little fun… I’ll buy a round a’ drinks.”

It’s enough to get Bill at your side, Javier follows as Micah and Arthur go to Chalres.

“Alright, count a’ three.” Sean grins, rubbing his hands together like the schemy little shit he is. “One, two…three!”

Bill goes straight for your dick, wrapping his big hand around it and stroking almost as well as Micah. You screw your eyes shut, trying to focus on lasting. It becomes infinitely harder when Javier’s hand dips below Bill’s and finds your balls still tucked in your pants. He leans in close, whispering a mix of English and Spanish in your ear and you know well enough that every word is dirty even though you try to tune it out. You can hear Micah snickering in the distance and take it as a good sign, he’d be the type to laugh at Charles getting off and losing. Bill’s other hand wanders up your chest and squeezes at your pecs briefly before he winds it under your shirt and feels at your skin. Javier’s other hand finds your jaw and his fingers trail as he turns your head. Your eyes peek open in time to see him smirk, then he kisses you as his hand squeezes at your balls firmly.

With their hands all over you, you can’t hold it anymore. It’s like a burst. The waves hit you hard and you spasm as you cum over your pants. Bill strokes you through it, his other hand gentle as it settles on your waist. Javier muffles whatever odd little noises you would have made, trailing off in smaller kisses before he stops. You open your eyes to look at him and he kisses your cheek with a wink. The three of you look over at the competition. Micah is stroking furiously, as he did with the others he tried to sabotage while Arthur kisses Charles’s neck and a hand plays with his nipples under his open shirt. Charles won, he hasn’t cum yet.

“Damn it.” Bill grumbles, glancing at you. “Was hopin’ you’d win.”

“Your fault.” You reply, breath still not quite back in your lungs.

Bill blushes. “Sorry, got, uh, caught up…”

“‘s alright…” You slur, head spinning still.

Sean doesn’t say a word to stop anything, holding a finger to his lips to silence any of you from alerting them. It’s only fair. Charles holds strong, though he seems to enjoy it when Arthur kisses him properly as his hand grips the other’s hair and holds him in place. Micah, never one to like losing and still unaware of his sealed fate, takes Charles in his mouth. Javier has to clap a hand over his lips to keep a laugh from alerting them. All of you sit in shock, never expecting Micah to suck off a man he berates on a daily basis even for the sake of winning some silly competition.

Charles’s hips buck and Micah moans when his hair is gripped and his mouth is used. His hands do nothing to stop it, only wandering over Charles’s thighs as he’s used. It only takes a minute after that, Charles’s hips stutter and he holds Micah flush to him as he releases. Arthur continues to kiss him and Micah is held in place despite his squirming until Sean clears his throat.

“Ya won, boys.” He grins. “Unless ya wanna keep goin’.”

Micah shoves himself away, falling back on his ass as he spits and coughs. Charles watches him, smiling for a moment before pulling Arthur closer and continuing.

“Alright then…” Sean turns to you and your saboteurs. “Anybody else all cheeky now?”

Bill grumbles something, standing and going over to Micah. He grips the smaller man by his collar, yanking him to his feet and shoving him towards the little collection of tents.

Sean has his eyebrows raised when he turns back, but he grins. “I ain’t gonna lie, I seen them hidin’ in the trees a couple times.”

“So you made us all get each other off?” Javier smirks, his arm draping around your shoulders. “Lousy move, cabrón.”

“I didn’t make ya do a thing ya didn’t wanna.” Sean crosses his arms. “It ain’t my fault you boys all wanted ta fuck each other.”

You sigh, remembering to tuck yourself away and glancing over to the winning fools. They’re nowhere to be seen. “They sneak off?”

“Suppose they did.” Sean chuckles. “Filthy sods.”

Javier waits a beat before turning to you. “Seems like everyone else is having a good time tonight. You wanna?”

Before you can answer, Sean whines. “Ya gonna leave me out? I’m the one that got ya started!”

“You’re taking then.” Javier mutters.

Sean grins. “Happily.”

You shake your head, sighing. “Fine, I guess.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy me, cariño.” Javier whispers, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

You hang your head, smiling softly. “Shut up, Escuella.”

He tugs at your arm as he stands, pulling you with him.

The fire light dies down over the course of the night. Faint, muffled moans and whimpers can be heard if you really listen, but it’s mostly that distinct sound of skin hitting skin that echoes well into the night. Some of you can’t walk in the morning, very much complicating the robbery and no one knows how you all are going to explain the failure to Dutch.

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gaycentral · 30 days

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Secrets

Part One:

@reidcoffeemoon

You had known Spencer Reid for years now, back when he was a young, fresh-faced agent who struggled to speak to people his age and couldn’t beat Gideon in a chess match. He was thirty now, you’d both changed, unspoken feelings simmered beneath the surface, and you knew for a fact that Spencer was hiding something.

Your suspicions began a year ago.

Spencer was never late, and the few times he had been, it was always due to something strange. Years ago, it was his Dilaudid addiction that caused him to arrive late to work, other times it was migraines or nightmares. It was never for an innocuous, innocent reason.

A year ago, he showed up late to work with a black eye.

“What the hell happened to you?” You’d asked, eyes scanning over him for any other injuries. You wouldn’t have been able to find any with his purple cardigan and black slacks obscuring your view, but it didn’t make you worry less.

“I, er, accidentally punched myself last night when getting changed.” He visibly grimaced at his own poor attempt at a lie, suppressing a wince as he sat down, his muscles aching, every individual joint in his body collectively screaming from last night’s events.

Your brow raise told him you clearly didn’t believe him, although Morgan snickered loudly from his desk, having bought the boy wonders story. He was quite clumsy after all.

You were a profiler, you thought you’d be able to figure out what was happening quite easily. At first, you worried he’d relapsed, but ruled that out fairly quickly. Then you wondered if something was going on with his mother, but it wasn’t that either. It was frustrating, because you knew that something wasn’t right, but you had nothing.

The last thing you expected was for him to actually tell you what was going on, because if there was anything to know about Spencer Reid, was that he could keep a secret, and keep one very well.

Until he couldn’t.

It was one in the morning when he called, waking you up from the warm, cozy haven of your comforter as your phone buzzed loudly on your nightstand. With a tired groan, you reached over, a fumbling hand grabbing the phone and squinting at the harsh sting of the light in your eyes, fully expecting Hotch or Garcia to be calling you in for work.

You didn’t expect to see Spencer’s name on your screen, and you felt anxiety shoot through your veins as you sat bolt upright in bed, answering the phone.

“Spencer?”

“Hi,” his voice was a pained rasp, one you recognized as your heart sank. “I’m…I’m really sorry to be calling so late, but, can you come over? I need, uh, I need some help.”

He hadn’t even finished his sentence before you were scrambling out of bed, briefly getting tangled in the sheets and nearly face-planting on your floor before you managed to orient yourself.

“What happened? Are you okay?” You didn’t bother to change out of your pyjamas as you sped through your apartment, looking for your keys as simultaneously tried to put your shoes on.

“It’s hard to explain. It will make more sense when you get here, just…try not to freak out too much?”

“You can’t say that and expect me not to freak out, Spencer!” Your voice came out more of a shriek than intended as you all but burst out of your front door, making quick strides towards your vehicle as the cold night air rose goosebumps across your skin.

“I know,” he sounded exhausted, which didn’t help your growing concern. “I’m sorry.”

You would’ve told him not to be sorry, that he didn’t need to be while simultaneously chewing him out for worrying you but he hung up the phone before you could get a word in.

You definitely broke some traffic laws on your way to Spencer’s apartment building, and you were grateful suddenly that the roads were unusually quiet tonight or there was a good chance you’d have hit someone. But right now that was the least of your worries as you burst into the building.

For a moment, you considered taking the elevator, but you remembered how Spencer had made an offhand comment on his buildings elevator being slow.

Screw it. You’d take the stairs.

You hated the stairs, you soon learned, sprinting up several flights to get to his door. You weren’t sure where you’d gotten that burst of speed or endurance, but your lungs burned and your legs hurt like a bitch. But you made it.

Not bothering to knock, you tried the door, fully expecting to find it locked due to Spencer’s vigilance. Strangely, it slowly drifted open under your hand. He must’ve left the door unlocked for you.

“Spencer?” You called out into the apartment, shutting the door behind you as you entered. It was dark, the night and the deep green walls casting the space in darkness.

You didn’t get any sort of response back, but as you walked further into the apartment, you saw a light peeking out form under the bathroom door. Your stomachs twisted anxiously at the thought of what you might find as you slowly opened the door.

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t that.

Spencer was slumped over on the floor, barely holding himself upright against the base of the counter. The bizarre blue and red suit he was wearing was torn in several places and cuts littered the exposed skin. He was covered in blood—his own, presumably.

“Oh my god,” you crouched down in front of him, not even sure where to start, your hands hovering aimlessly. “Spencer, can you hear me?”

He seemed to be straddling the line of consciousness, his eyes heavily lidded as he managed to lift his head slightly before it dropped back down. You reached out, supporting his head in your hands.

“Holy shit, Spencer. We need to get you to a hospital.” The words were barely out of your mouth before Spencer was firmly gripping your wrist. Not hard enough to hurt, but to get your attention.

“No,” the word came out a broken plea, his grip on your wrist loosening but not letting go. “No hospital.”

You remembered the last time he’d been in the hospital, it had been due to anthrax exposure a few years ago, and it had been an incredibly traumatic experience for him despite the rather fortunate outcome. You supposed you couldn’t blame him for not wanting to go.

“Spencer, you’re hurt. You need some kind of medical attention, you can’t just stay like this.” Your eyes flitted over his bizarre outfit. It looked sort of like a Spider-Man costume. You’d seen that vigilante around a few times. But you couldn’t help but notice how detailed it was for a costume, a little too high quality.

“Just…just help me up, please?” He managed to look up at you, his tired eyes pleading and soft, and any further arguments died in your throat as you cursed to yourself.

“Damn it. Alright, put your arm around my shoulder.” He did as asked, his arm draping around your shoulders as his fingers lightly gripped your bicep for support, leaning against you as you wrapped an arm around his waist and began to help him to his feet. You heard him wince, biting down on his lip as he struggled to stand with your help.

“Breathe through it, in through your nose, out through your mouth.” You instructed him, briefly pausing to let him catch his breath. He nodded shakily, hair hanging in front of his eyes before he tried to stand again. It took a fair bit of effort but he was finally to his feet, leaning against you for support.

“We’ll take it nice and slow,” you assured him, beginning the slow shuffle out of the bathroom. Your mind swam. What the hell happened to him? You’d ask later, you figured he didn’t want to talk about it right now, but you were going to get answers eventually even if you had to shake them out of him.

You were halfway down the hallway when he passed out. His feet had begun to drag until he slumped against you with a heavy breath, sending you both to the floor.

“No, no no no!” You barely manage to catch him as you sink to the ground, keeping him from smacking his head off the floor, your hands hooked under his arms and his head in your lap.

“Don’t you dare do this to me, you ass!” You felt your eyes burn with tears that you refused to let fall. “If you die I’m gonna kill you so much!”

He groaned incoherently, his breaths strained, but he didn’t wake. His brow was furrowed, face twisted in discomfort.

“Okay…okay.” You stand up, picking him up and adjusting him in your arms until you’re carrying him bridal style, surprised at just how light he is. You knew he’d be light, but even when he was dead weight he was relatively easy to carry as you rush to his bedroom.

Setting him down on the bed, you anxiously wring your hands as you try to get your thoughts in order. In the dim lamplight his face is contorted in pain, his skin paler than it should be.

You rush back to the bathroom, grabbing a hand towel from the cupboard under the sink and running it under the cold tap, grabbing the first aid kit on your way out.

He was right where you’d left him, but he was mumbling incomprehensibly now, his words garbled and incoherent. You place the cool, damp rag on his forehead to regulate his temperature and begin looking for some kind of zipper on his costume.

“How in the fuck do you get in and out of this thing?!” You huff, knowing you’re not going to get an answer. There’s no zipper in sight, and you want to yell in frustration. You were about to go look for a pair of scissors when your hand brushes the raised spider emblem over his chest, and the suit suddenly loosens enough to be taken off.

“What in the–“

Oh.

It wasn’t a costume.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #x reader #spiderman #spider man #spiderman AU #spider!spencer #whump #?

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matthew-gray-gubler-lover · 9 months

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sex with spencer Reid all 15 seasons (season 2)

If you are under the age of 18, please do not read this story. Thank you.

This will cover what I believe sex would be like with Spencer Reid from season 1 to 15. Warning contains adult situations, Sex. Dirty talk, Orgasms, Crying, Spoilers for all seasons and Spencer Reid being a sex God.

Also includes fingering and oral sex. (Female receiving only.)

These are a little bit longer than I anticipated them to be because I wanted to give a back story as to why the sex is the way that it is for each season. To give it in depth feeling of why Spencer was the way that he was in bed that season. So I will be posting them by each season rather than all at once. I hope this gives you something to look forward to, and please leave comments, I will be leaving links to the next season below.

You are a new agent at the BAU and Spencer Reid's girlfriend, the one who takes his virginity and has sex with him for all 15 seasons and beyond.

Spencer Reid knew the first time he saw you walk through the doors of the BAU that you were the one that he was going to love forever. The first time you smiled, he knew it was the only smile that he ever wanted to wake up to. The first time he touched your hand, he knew yours was the only hand he ever wanted to hold. The first time he kissed you, he knew your lips were the only ones that he ever wanted to have pressed against his own. and the first time he made love to you, he knew you were the only one he ever wanted to do this with, and he also knew he would never be the same you or his life now, his love and his only desire.

Season 2

In season 2, Spencer has reunited with his mother after several years and also Elle Greenaway got shot by the Fisher King, both things causing Spencer a lot of stress.

also In season two you two have been having sex for six months now and Spencer is more confident now since he knows that he can give you multiple orgasms in one sex session. And now Spencer

wears glasses. You find him even more attractive because now he looks like a little sweetie pie that you know can Make Love to you like no one else. Giving you orgasm after orgasm until both

of you are completely exhausted and can't move anymore, In which case he holds you cuddled in his arms until you both fall asleep wake up and do it all over again. And when he keeps the

glasses on as he has sex with you WOW, of course you and Spencer are the only people in the world who know that. But now that you know the effect that you have on him, you wear

sweaters and tops They're a little tighter and a little bit lower cut than they need be. Something that you know will turn him on, causing his glasses to fog up sometimes. Something that Morgan

makes fun of him for, "Your little girlfriend there gets you all hot and bothered, huh? Look at you with your glasses steaming up". Of course this is embarrassed Spencer since no one in the

workplace knows what he can be like in bed. According to them he's still a virgin, since again only the two of you know exactly what he's capable of in the bedroom. "What? She doesn't do

that to me?" He shrieks as he takes off his glasses to wipe off the fogginess. "It's just hot in here" he tells Morgan. Since you're on a case as soon as you're in the hotel room Spencer is all over

you. Kissing your lips, neck, any skin that he can get a hold of as He tears your clothes off. He can't wait to get a hold of you. "That sweater you had on today made me insane. I couldn't wait

to get you alone and take it off. I just have to have you", he tells you as he kisses you once more before putting you on the bed and having sex with you. The feeling that you wanted all day. And

you knew Spencer wanted it too. Spencer was so excited to finally have you all to himself that he forgot to take off his glasses once again. This happens quite often as he's always so excited to get you into bed.

After a little bit, you notice that his glasses have fogged up. You start to giggle and he looks at you as well as he can Through the fogginess and begins to giggle himself before trying to take

the glasses off until you put your hand on his and say "please leave them on". Of course he would always give you anything that you wanted, so the glasses stay on.

spencer was always a sweet, kind and loving lover. That was up until Tobias Hankel. You just thought that it was the kidnapping that made Spencer a little bit

rougher in bed. That was until the day that you saw the marks on Spencer's arm that you knew something else was wrong. You asked him what happened. He started crying and told you

about his addiction to diladid, you both cried when he told you, you were completely understanding and just wanted to comfort him and love him and make him always feel safe with

you. And he did, knowing how much you loved him, that you would never judge him for that. After all, it wasn't his fault what Tobias did. The sex wasn't quite as rough after that, and you

were happy with that. The night that he held a vial in his hand, looked you in the eyes full of love and said "you're the only drug I need, I don't need this anymore" Before throwing the vial into

the trash, the last that you would ever see of that drug. Withdrawal was a bit difficult since it did make him angry and he really didn't want to be around you. You spent a couple nights at

Penelope's. But the day that he called you and told you the Withdrawal was over. He made love to you so sweetly multiple times that it made-up for everything that you had gone through together.

#doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #dr reid #spencer reid smut

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outsideratheart · 9 months

Text

Bumped Heads & Bedtime Stories (Alex Morgan x reader)

A/N: So this wasn’t planned but once it was in my head I had to write it. I hope you all like it.

Alex and Charlie watched on proudly as you took the field with the Matildas for the Semi final of the World Cup. The younger of the two got up from her mother’s lap and stood directly in front of the TV when the camera zoomed in on you as you exchanged pendants with the German captain.

“Mommy look it’s Mama” Charlie says excitedly.

Long distance was hard for the two of you when you started dating, more so when you got married but all of that failed in comparison to when you had Charlie. You played for Lyon and had done since you were a 21 years old. Alex feared what your bond with Charlie would be like when you lived half way across the world for the majority of the year but she soon found out she had nothing to worry about. Charlie adored you and the bond you two shared was unbreakable.

“It is and she is wearing a shirt just like yours” Alex replies to her daughter.

“This is her shirt Mama, look” Charlie points the your last name on the back of her shirt.

“But you support America, right Charlie?” Kelley asks the small child.

“No! I support Australia” she didn’t pronounce every letter but it was enough to be understood.

Alex knew this was an argument she could never win. You hadn’t tried to get Charlie on your side, the girl automatically chose you. The two of you asked her who she would support if Mama and Mommy play against each other and each time Charlie said you.

The Matildas were putting in yet another dominating performance just like they had been doing the entire campaign. The advantage they had with it being a home tournament made a huge difference and every game sounded and was played like a final.

You were 2-0 up going into the second half. Sam had scored from a corner and you had scored from a free kick. You were currently the top scorer on the tournament which shocked most people because you were a left back but you were also a set piece specialist. The ball almost always found the back of the net whether it came off your foot or your head.

It’s why when the next corner takes place you are heavily marked but some how manage to free yourself. As you jump for the header you feel your head hit something but it felt a lot harder than a ball, this much is proven when you fall to the floor and can feel your head throbbing in seconds. Your first guess is that you got elbowed so you stand to your feet but then feel a warm liquid running down your face. Yes, you had built up a sweat but it was winter in Australia no way are you sweating this much. It is only when you look down that you see drops of red on your shirt and when you raise your hand to where the pain is your hand is covered in blood.

Alex was unaware of the incident that had taken place on the pitch as she was getting some water from the hotel bar. The first wave of panic is brought on when she hears Charlie shrieking and her cries get louder and louder as she runs towards her.

“Mama’s hurt. Blood” Charlie all but jumps into the Alex’s arms. The child is inconsolable.

Your wife doesn’t know to react. She knew that she had to stay calm if she had any hope of calming Charlie down but right now she was finding that incredibly difficult.

When Alex returns to the seating area she sees all eyes are on her before heads turn towards the TV.

“How bad is it?” Alex asks calmly.

“Lots of blood” Charlie is the only one to answer her question.

“Can you one you please tell me what happen to Y/N?” Alex begs her team mates.

“It was a corner. She jumped up for a header but one of the German defenders had a hold of her shirt. The keeper came out to punch the ball away and kneed Y/N in the head. She got up almost immediately—“ Kelley tried telling her best friend.

“So she’s ok?”

“She had a cut on her head. Like Charlie said there was a lot of blood. She refused a stretcher and help from the physios because she wanted to play. Sam and Ellie had to help her of the pitch. She looked out of it”

Alex tried to process what she was being told. Head injuries are serious and regardless of whether you used a stretcher or not, the suggestion of one is enough to instil worry.

“Was it bad?” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to the answer.

“No”

“Yes”

Only one player said yes and it was Kristie.

“Sam refused to play and walked off the pitch with Y/N. I know my girlfriend, I has never seen her look like that and she has never walked away from a game. It’s the semi final. She wouldn’t have gone with Y/N if it wasn’t bad”

Kristie’s statement made Alex feel two things; relief because you had your best friend with you and panic because the blonde was right, Sam wouldn’t have left the match if it wasn’t bad.

“Charlie” Naomi walks up to the little girl who surprisingly doesn’t shy away from her “do you know how many goals you mama has scored so far? I think it’s 2”

Your daughter reaches of the defender and goes into tell her that you had scored and how you scored them.

Time after time, Alex got your voicemail. She was about to give up and drive to the hospital that were closest to the stadium but then Kristie got a call.

“It’s Sam” She holds the phone towards the forward “She’s with Y/N”

Alex took a deep breath before holding the phone up to her ear.

“Y/N”

“Hi Al” you voice was quiet and if she hadn’t already have known she would be able to tell something was wrong “I need to go to the hospital for some checks and stitches”

“Which one? I’ll get one of the cars and be there as soon as I can” Alex was already searching for a member of staff that would have car keys.

“No, don’t come. Stay with Charlie. Hospitals are no place for children and you hate them almost as much as I do. I should only be a couple of hours if I don’t have to stay over. I’ll come to you afterwards”

Alex wanted to argue. She needed to see that you were ok with her own eyes, anything less wouldn’t do.

“You’re going to come here as soon as you can?”

“I am”

The whole USWNT waited patiently, some more than others, for you to arrive to their hotel. Since you began dating Alex, you had become part of their family. They all watched the incident happen and would feel much better when they saw you in the flesh.

Hours pass and you still hadn’t arrived, they hadn’t even heard from you since the call with Alex.

Charlie went quiet and Alex knew it was because you needed to see you. The young girl always shut down when she missed you and she wouldn’t return to her normal until she saw you or felt like you were close to her. Because of this Alex had packed several of your hoodies so that they can be a source of comfort your daughter and her as well.

“Kells, will you take Charlie up to get one of Y/N’s hoodies. I’d take her but I want to be here when she—“

“Of course”

The choice of clothing must have been a hard decision because the pair was gone almost half an hour. The defender returns to the hotel bar.

“Kelley, please tell me you haven’t lost my daughter?” Alex asks when she notices her friend is alone.

Alex walks towards the defender who had assumed Charlie was right behind her.

“Mama!!”

The word is heard throughout the bar and the giggles that follow lift a weight that had been hanging on each players shoulders.

When you enter the bar, your daughter in your arms, everyone can see what the accident had done to you. The left side of your forehead is slightly swollen and you had stitches just below your hairline. You welcome Alex into your arms and place a small kiss to both her and Charlie’s temples.

Sam hovers near you. You hear Kristie call her over but she shakes her head.

“Go. I’m fine” you pat your best friend on her shoulder “Thank you for staying with me Sammy”

“I’m only over there if you need me” Sam gingerly walks over to her girlfriend.

You sit down with Alex next to you and Charlie on your knee. Your daughter inspects your injury all whilst been careful not to hurt you. She presses your stitches a little too hard which causes you to wince.

“Does it hurt?” Charlie asks and you can feel Alex’s eyes burning into you.

“It does but I’m ok”

“Are you?” It is now Alex’s turn to ask you a question.

“I am. I have no concussion and no major damage”

“Then why is Sam here and why is she watching you like you’re going to pass out at any minute?”

“I lost consciousness a couple of times, I think I scared her” You once made a vow to be honest with Alex and it seemed important now more than ever.

You look over to where Sam and Kristie were sitting and like Alex said, Sam was watching you like a hawk.

“I’m here because I have her medication” Sam answers Alex’s first question.

“Medication? You said you were ok. If you were ok then you wouldn’t need medication”

You give Sam a look as if saying look what you’ve started.

“Sam. Show Alex the medication you were talking about”

Sam holds up a pack of paracetamol earning a laugh from the girls around you.

You hated taking painkillers but the doctor give you strict instructions to take them every 4 hours. It has been 2 hours since your first dose and Sam had taken it upon herself to make sure you took a second dose, after that it would be Alex’s job.

“Sam wanted to see Kristie without it the girls teasing her for it so she’s using me as an excuse”

Sam couldn’t argue with you on that. The team, you included, loved to tease her about how much she missed her girlfriend. You got just as much stick but you agreed with your tormentors whereas Sam would get defensive.

You took Charlie upstairs to get ready for bed since it was made obvious that the team would be staying downstairs for a bit and one late night wouldn’t harm the child.

Whilst Alex did believe you when you told her you were ok, she still wanted a second opinion and your best friend her best option.

“How bad was it?” Alex joins Sam and Kristie at their table. Sonnett, Lynn and Kelley was also at the same table.

“You want the truth?” Your wife nods her head “At first it was really bad. The physios couldn’t stop the bleeding and they didn’t want to go to hospital until they did. Y/N was out of it but she was trying to act fine. Her eyes wouldn’t focus on anything, it was almost like we weren’t in the room with her” Sam tries not to cry but the lump that if forming in her throat was making it difficult.

Alex didn’t share the same need for control. Her tears fell freely as she heard your best friend tell her what happened moment by moment. Turns out she did have a reason for concern and quite a few at that. Looking at the way you walked in you wouldn’t have thought anything had happened but after listening to Sam, Alex realised you had to be putting on a brave front.

When you return with a pyjama clad Charlie Alex tells the group that is is time for the Morgan - Y/L/N’s to go to bed. You saw the look in her eye and didn’t argue.

Once the door had shut Alex started to cry.

“Hey hey, there’s no need to cry” you pull her in tight and hold her close. You knew that you would have scared Alex so you let her cry.

“You scared us” Alex speaks into your chest.

“I know, I’m sorry” you grab her hand and pull her towards the bed. Once sat down Alex buries her head in the crook of your neck and you hold her tightly again.

“Yeah mama, there was a lot of blood” Charlie walks over to the two of you. Alex pulls away and quickly wipes her eyes. She didn’t want your daughter to see her cry.

You wanted to say wait till they see your Matilda’s jersey which was now more red than yellow but now wasn’t the time for jokes.

“I know there was but it all got cleaned up and then I got these to stop it from bleeding again” You point to your stitches.

“I got you this” Charlie climbs onto your lap and holds up a band aid which had Pepper pig on. You take it off her and hand to Alex with a nod of you head. Alex then places the unnecessary band aid across the stitches but makes sure that the cushion covers your stitches.

“Can we watch a movie?”

“Yes” Alex answers.

“Actually, the doctor told Mama she isn’t allowed to watch any movies tonight”

“You said you didn’t have a concussion” Alex whispers knowing full well what people who have concussions get told.

“I don’t but the brightness makes my headache worse” you reassure your wife.

“Why?” Your child was curious and didn’t understand why you wouldn’t be allowed.

“Because whilst I am ok, I do have a poorly head. What about a bedtime story instead?”

Charlie happily takes you up on your offer and even gets herself into her bed.

“What do you think Al, is it time our daughter finds out how we met?”

Alex rolls her eyes at this. You two had very different sides when it came to the day you met. You were adamant that it was love at first sight, especially for Alex but she didn’t agree.

“Only if you tell her the truth”

Once Charlie is tucked up in bed you side on the side with Alex standing over you.

“It started when Australia played America. I had to mark your mommy and she kept trying to take my top off” This earned you a slap from Alex but a giggle from Charlie so it was worth it.

“I did not”

“You ripped it off me remember”

“It was an accident”

“Oh baby, you keep telling yourself that. Do you think it was an accident Charlie?”

“Nope” Charlie agrees with you, of course she did.

You continue telling the story and every so often you would hear Alex scoff at your recollation of events. She saw you as this cocky Aussie but you did catch her eye that first day but she wouldn’t call it love at first sight. Lust would be more appropriate given then you ended in her hotel room that night.

“Then a couple of years later your Mommy moved all the way to France because she missed me and wanted to see me everyday”

“I didn’t move for you. Well not just you”

“Ha! I knew it” you look up at Alex with a smug look in your face.

“I miss you everyday Mama”

“And I miss you my sweet one”

You continue the story up to the point where you propose to Alex when you see Charlie trying really hard to fight sleep. You end it there and promise to finish it another time.

You get into your own bed, well technically it is Alex’s bed, and with a watchful eye you enjoy the show she is putting on as she gets changed.

“So I’ve been thinking”

“Are you allowed to do that?” Alex jokes.

“Actually not but just allow it for the time being. My contract is up with Lyon this summer and I have meeting after the world cup to discuss my contract. How would you feel if I request a transfer?”

Never in all the years of dating and marriage had Alex asked you to leave Lyon, not even when Charlie was born. You were one of the best players in the world, Lyon was the team that made you into that and in return you gave them several champions league titles. Sure the topic had been brought up before but you were always under contract so it was hard.

“Are you saying you are ready to leave?”

“No. I’m ready to stop leaving. Charlie is getting older and you heard her, she misses me and I know you do” Alex throws her top at you “You do and I miss you too. I’ve given my life to that club but it’s time I put our family first”

You wouldn’t admit it but today scared you and you knew that it could have been a lot worse than it was. It made you appreciate these moments you had with your family and you wanted to have more of them even if it did mean moving the San Diego.

#Alex Morgan x reader #alex morgan one shot #alex morgan imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot

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fanaticsnail · 7 months

Text

To the ends of the earth

I am so sorry, I let the words run away with me again. I had no idea how much I had in me for this plot until it sprung onto the page.

Word Count: 6.814 (Again, I apologize but I truly couldn't resist!).

This is angsty, and I am sorry. This is my first time writing for Koby, at the request of @bonedaddi3. (I hope you and your friend enjoy!)

If you enjoy my writing, please let me know. It really encourages me to continue honing in on my little hobby.

As the sails lay rustling in the breeze directing the large, sea-worn ship into Shells Town. You closed your eyes and relished in the scent of the salt-riddled water engulfing your senses. Seagulls shrieked above, directing your attention to the beams supporting the crows nest. You squinted your eyes and smiled at the sight as you continued to bring the vessel into harbour.

“Lieutenant!” you heard Vice Admiral Garp call, addressing you by your formal title. You snapped your head towards the direction of his voice and stood to attention as he briskly made his presence known to you.

“Sir!” you sharply responded from your place adjacent to the helm, saluting to welcome him to the deck.

“At ease,” he directed you while raising his right hand and nodding his head. You responded by separating your legs and releasing the hold of your firm posture, pulling your hands behind your back and resting them with interlocked fists. You trailed your eyes over your Vice-Admiral before looking behind him to acknowledge commissioned Officer Bogard, nodding to him.

“We’re going aboard shortly,” Garp said, bringing your attention back to fall before him, “as you had been informed yesterday evening, things have been slipping here for some time.”

You nodded at him as he continued to instruct you in your duties.

“As discussed, I am relieving the Captain of his title and issuing a formal reprimand for his behaviour,” Garp added, looking to the approaching shore, “I may even string him up in the stock-yard for losing the map to the grand line.”

You noticed a small smirk appear on Bogard’s face at the thought of knocking Captain Morgan down a few paces.

“I’ll be leaving my ship in your command, Bogard will join me in Shells Town,” he added, nodding to the man behind him. You accepted his orders with curt, “yes, Sir.”

“From what I’ve gathered, he’s got a volley of cadets in dire need of training,” he smirked slightly, his eyes twinkling in thought, “I’ll be bringing them aboard for you to train.”

You smiled at the new command broadly. Your current title of lieutenant was thrust upon you at a hastened pace; as your renowned battle-ready and iron-clad will were the topic of many dinner conversations with the higher-up military generals. This was part of the reason why Vice-Admiral Garp requested you personally to join him on this particular voyage. Your military expertise at running drills until your underlings either passed out from exhaustion, threw up the contents of their stomachs or withdrew their applications from the Marines in service would break in the most successful cadets Garp had seen.

“Yes, sir,” you responded, prompting him to smile and turned on his way towards the dock where you steered the ship to make port.

Vice-Admiral Garp and Bogard exited the ship, leaving you with a bare-bones crew to continue to maintain the vessel against the port. You sent off your Boatswain to collect enough ingredients for the chef to prepare rations for the new recruits, leaving you to your duties as Quartermaster.

You maintained an air of formality while instructing your crew to create enough crew-quarters for the new arrivals as they were brought aboard.

After several hours of preparation, the Vice-Admiral and his Brigadier returned aboard the vessel with twenty fresh-faced recruits trailing behind them. In acknowledgment to Garp’s arrival, you marched down the steps atop the deck to welcome your leader to his ship.

“Vice-Admiral,” you stood to attention as you did hours prior., saluting him in respect.

“At ease, Lieutenant,” he responded with a curt nod. He used his beard-whiskered chin to nod for you to follow him away from the new recruits with Bogard following along silently.

“Quite the array you’ve managed to claim, Vice-Admiral,” you acknowledged the troops with a downward nod, prompting Garp to follow your gaze.

“That I have,” he agreed with you with a slight, downturned smile, “I can’t wait to see what you’ll mould them into.”

You smirked at his compliment before asking him, “how did the formal reprimand go with Captain Morgan?”

“As well as you could expect,” he chuckled, “I’ve instructed the newly branded Captain to leave him tied in the stocks for a week or so.”

You hummed in response, turning again to look at the cadets as they climbed aboard your ship. Your attention was immediately drawn to a small cadet with circular broad-rimmed glasses who was slightly drowning in his oversized uniform. You quirked your brow at him slightly, prompting Garp to follow your gaze.

“Ah, that one,” he acknowledged, prompting you to return your sights to your superior officer, “he’s the newest recruit.”

You nodded in response before furrowing your brows.

“And you are certain you desire me to train this troop exactly as I would back at base?” you asked him before looking over the young recruits. Vice-Admiral Garp paused for a moment before leaning in close to your ear and issuing one final command.

“Break them,” he voiced above a whisper and clapped his left hand atop your left shoulder before turning back to address the cadets.

“Cadets, you had better prove yourselves if you are to sail under me!” he ordered in a booming voice, “the pirates who attacked Shells Town have a head start, but once I sink my teeth in; I won’t let go.”

You turned your head slightly to the right to release a sharp crack from the joint at the nape of your neck.

“Am I understood, Marines?” Garp barked.

You joined the ship-wide singular voice responding to his question, a loud: “Yes, Sir!”

He smiled at his crew before gesturing to you to step forward to begin an introduction.

“This is my Lieutenant,” he boomed as you stepped forward into view. You held a determined look adorning your features as you assessed the twenty young members of crew.

“She is under my direct instruction to train you and rid you of any inadequacies you had learnt under the former Captain Morgan,” he continued sharply, “she has my sanction to use any means necessary to break you in, understood?”

“Yes, sir!” echoed throughout the deck as the cadets began to bring their attention to you. You rolled your shoulders back began issuing your first commands.

“Fall in, recruits,” you sharply ordered, prompting five rows of four cadets per row. You wove between them, sharply assessing each of them as they stood. You noticed several cadets had their cravats slightly skewed, prompting you to reach up and firmly readjust them with your hands. Stalking their forms and trailing your merciless gaze over them, not uttering a single word as you began your trial of intimidation. You flicked a loose button on the vest of a cadet with your index finger, prompting them to trail your gaze to your administration.

“Repair that,” you ordered under your breath.

“Yes, Ma’am,” they responded sharply, holding their gaze ahead. You continued your stalking assessment through the final two rows, noticing two mismatched individuals at the head: the smaller cadet with glasses and a tall blonde with a ridiculous hair cut and what appears to be a fresh blackened eye.

You focussed your gaze on the smaller of the two, looking him over as you assessed his presentation.

“You need a new uniform,” you commented in a monotonous voice, “this one is far too large.”

“I-it was all they had, Ma’am,” he quietly managed to stutter out while not making eye contact. You noticed the tall blonde snicker at the comment made by the cadet you formerly addressed and snapped your gaze over towards him.

“Something amusing, cadet?” you sharply asked him, prompting a small smirk to disappear at the corner of his mouth. He looked at your sharpened gaze, eyes wide at your immediate attention.

“No, Ma’am,” he responded quickly in a hushed tone.

“What was that, cadet?” you asked him with hard direction, narrowing your eyes and sizing him up.

“No, Ma’am!” he responded withholding no hesitation in his voice.

“Disrespect your fellow cadet again with something as atrocious as a snicker, and you will be dealing with more than just a black eye, understood?” you threatened him, prompting him to again reissue a resounding: “Yes, Ma’am!”

You returned your attention back to the pink-haired recruit with a sinister gaze. He continued to stair ahead, a slight quiver from his shoulders did not escape your attention.

“What’s your name, Marine?” you asked him, bluntly.

“Koby, Ma’am,” he responded in a quiet tone.

“When I give you an order, you respond with ‘Yes Ma’am’, understood?” you reiterated.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he responded quietly, fixing his gaze at the floor and quiver slightly under your direction.

“Eyes forward, Koby!” you barked at him, prompting him to jolt his shoulders slightly before bringing his gaze up to meet your unrelenting aura of authority.

“Cadets, what are we?” you barked.

“Marines, Ma’am!” you heard them respond in unison.

You nodded your head and began to pace the front of the five rows silently before beginning a small monologue.

“We are Marines,” you confirmed, pacing the rows and staring out into the open sea with slight pause.

“I have been instructed to break you,” you continued, again pacing the five rows, “and believe me when I tell you, I will.”

Several cadets appeared to be slightly rattled at your threat, but continued to fix their gaze ahead.

“There will be pain,” you said, stopping in front of the right-most front facing cadet, “there will be sweat and blood pulled from places you never thought you could sweat and bleed from,” you said, continuing to stop in front of the leaders of the lines.

“And you will take every inch of training I bestow upon you until you feel yourself break under my authority, is that understood?” you directed at them in a firm voice.

“Yes, Ma’am,” they responded, keeping their eyes fixed on the horizon line before you.

“I do not care who you are or where you’ve come from,” you halted in front of the blonde who snickered moments prior before moving on to the circular glasses-clad cadet in front of you, “you are mine.”

You saw his Adams-apple visibly bob as an indication of him swallowing a wad of collected saliva behind his lips. His eyes flittered between your hardened gaze, before triangulating down to rest his sights momentarily on your lips before hastily returning them to your eyes.

“Do I make myself clear, cadets?” you fixed your gaze, baring directly into his eyes.

“Yes, Ma’am!” their confirmation resounded in unison, but your sights were continued to be fixed on the small cadet in front of you.

“Good,” you said with a small smirk and an arch of your brow. Up closer to the small cadet, you accidentally assessed his features. Your attention was brought to the semi-frightened intensity displayed freely from his blue irises before your eyes flickered down to rest slightly on his supple, parted lips before you hastily returned your gaze to his eyes once more.

“Boatswain!” you called suddenly to your coworker.

“Yes, Lieutenant!” he responded, stepping forward with a salute.

“Assign the the cadets their chores,” you ordered, turning to face your boatswain, “I will be watching them very closely.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he responded with a salute. You nodded your acknowledgement at your coworker before returning to your cadets.

“Dismissed!” you said, prompting the twenty newcomers to fall in line to receive their orders from the boatswain. You remained stationary as your eyes trailed the cadets as they eagerly scurried to receive their orders from the boatswain, paying particularly close attention to the smaller, pink-haired individual you intimidated moments prior.

You watched him as he, even before receiving instruction from the boatswain, began checking the rigging for faulty knots, moving any hazards from the pathway between the arched corridors of the large vessel. You narrowed your eyes in thought, almost not hearing the approaching footprints of your Vice-Admiral.

“Nicely executed, Lieutenant,” Garp complimented you, prompting you to angle your body towards his without breaking your gaze from the small recruit; nodding to him in gratitude. Garp followed your gaze to the small recruit and arched his brow before bringing his sights back to your form.

“Impressed already?” he asked you, prompting you to tear your sights from watching Koby successfully undo a slipknot you had purposefully rigged and retied it skilfully before he turned to receive his orders from your boatswain.

“The cadet, Koby,” you began, looking slightly behind Garp to address Bogard, “who is he?”

Garp let out a small chuckle at your question.

“He was travelling among the Alvida pirates as their prisoner until arriving in town with the leader of the Strawhat pirates,” Bogard informed you monotonously.

“A pirate prisoner?” you asked him with your eyes slightly widened.

“I thought you said you didn’t care who they were or where they came from,” Garp taunted you slightly, prompting you to bring your attention back to him, “do not relent your training on his accord.”

“Yes, sir,” you responded with a curt nod, “may I be dismissed so I may supervise the cadets, sir?”

“You are dismissed,” he nodded at you, prompting you to salute and turn on the balls of your feet to supervise the newest members of your vessel.

“I was initially hesitant at your request to bring her along,” Bogard addressed the Vice-Admiral and stepping beside him, “she seemed far to young to undertake this task, but after that little display; it’s safe to say I’m impressed.”

“I wouldn’t let her youthfulness dissuade your confidence, Bogard. I’ve seen the marines she trained, and her results speak for themselves,” he confirmed with his underling, which prompted him to nod in response.

Over the course of several months, the marines would only eat when you allowed them to eat; slept when you permitted them to sleep and you trained them in combat until exhaustion would overcome their bodies. You taught them to maintain their uniforms to an appropriate standard; teaching them to maintain their stitches and polish their brass buttons with ample discipline. You continued to monitor the progress of Koby as he quickly rose to become one of the best cadets this particular allotment produced. It also did not escape your notice that he hastily became the starred protégé of Vice-Admiral Garp, who called him into his office for intellectual challenges.

One evening, Bogard came to fetch you while you were leading a particularly heavy cardio and combat-intensive training exercise for the recruits.

“I know you can give me more than that, cadets!” you taunted them with a smirk, prompting them to make their movements harder, sweat dripping from their faces at your command. Koby flicked his eyes over to you while panting hard through partially open lips at the drill you were instructing him. His face was flushed partially from the over-excursion of the drill and the fact that you were focussing your eye contact with him as you continued to taunt them.

“This is the final stretch, cadets,” you called to them, stepping closer to Koby as he continued to push himself at your command, “make me proud.”

Koby wanted nothing more than to push himself beyond the point of exhaustion to satiate your desire for absolute excellence. He adhered to your taunt and strenuously pushed his body to complete the spirited task you had appointed all of the cadets. You smiled in response at him with slightly surprised eyes before turning your attention to another recruit. Although your eyes no longer focussed solely on him, he continued to push and push, tasting the familiar metallic twinge of blood over his tongue as he exhausted his body for you.

“Lieutenant, the Vice-Admiral requests you join him in his office immediately,” Bogard interrupted your instruction to inform you. You growled slightly at the interruption, but relented.

“Alright, Marines,” you addressed your cadets, “that will be all for today. Cool down your bodies so they don’t seize up. Focus on your arms first, they’ll need it most.”

A collective, resounding sigh of relief could be heard passing through the lips of the marines, after acknowledging your instruction with a: “Yes, Ma’am”.

This prompted you to laugh slightly in response to their relief. Over the past few months, you successfully broke the young recruits in and eased up on your hardened exterior; forming friendships with several of the newcomers. Although you continued to hold an air of authority over the troop and never engage in inappropriate conversations with them; you were closer in age to this lot than any you had trained prior, and it showed.

Garp would often watch you engage with the recruits and smile at how organic you were with this collection. After he requested your attendance on his vessel, he grew very fond of you and the rapport you engaged with him.

“Don’t be too relieved,” you said with a small smirk, “I will be pairing you up in size and skill tomorrow and lead you in sparring against one another. You are not to hold back, only stopping once your opponent is either unconscious or otherwise incapacitated. Is that understood, cadets?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the cadets responded in unison.

“Dismissed, then,” you said to them with a small salute and a warm smile, “I’ll see you all at dinner.”

You turned to bring your attention to Bogard and grinned at him before stepping forward to greet him. You walked in step with one another towards the office of your Vice-Admiral, blissfully unaware of the eyes baring into your retreating form.

“Alright, out with it,” Helmeppo prodded his fellow cadet with a roll of his eyes, “What is it, Koby?”

He noticed Koby’s eyes were continuing to focus on the lieutenant as you finally fell out of sight beside Bogard.

“N-nothing, Helmeppo,” he responded, turning back around and readjusting his uniform to be as pristine as he could make it.

“Are you sure it’s not the fact you have a little crush on our commanding officer?” he teased him slightly with a nudge from his shoulder to Koby’s. Koby’s eyes widened and his face immediately flushed a warm pink tone.

“I don’t have a-,” he stuttered slightly, “-a crush on the Lieutenant.”

Helmeppo smirked broadly and felt as if he finally had a leg up on Koby. Although he had the history and knowledge of someone who grew up on a marine base under the command of his father; he did not foster favour with any of the authorities on this vessel. He needed to use this to his advantage somehow, hoping sharing this moment with Koby would grant him favour with at least one of the commanding officers.

“Oh yes you do,” Helmeppo reiterated, “I’ve seen the way your beady little eyes trail her when she’s ordering us around. I know you push yourself hard to impress her in physical training, even though you absolutely suck at it.”

Koby gulped the saliva he collected in his mouth and nervously flickered his tongue out to dampen his lower lip. Helmeppo widened his sinister smile at the reaction he managed to bring from Koby at his sudden taunt.

“The sooner you come to terms with it, the sooner you can do something about it,” he advised off-handedly. Koby didn’t grace Helmeppo with a response, choosing to kneel down and undo and retie his shoelaces.

You made your way throughout the hall to meet with your Vice-Admiral, knocking lightly on the doorframe to alert Garp to your presence.

“Enter, Lieutenant,” Garp called to you, prompting you to open the door. You pushed on the frame to reveal your boss seated at his desk.

“Sir,” you addressed him, clicking your heals and offering a salute, “you asked to see me?”

“That I did, Lieutenant,” he responded, “at ease.”

You widened your stance and laced your hands behind your back at his direction. He reached down to a draw beneath his desk and retrieved a bottle of rum and twin crystal short-glasses. You knit your brows together at his movements, prompting him to smile.

“Come and sit,” he gestured to the chair in front of him. You nodded your head and made to walk over to the chair before him. You pulled it out and took a seat, keeping an alert posture as you watched him pour the liquid into the glasses.

“You have done a more than excellent job in training the recruits,” he said, placing one of the glasses in front of you, “they have made me proud.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said, accepting the glass he placed before you.

“They are a direct reflection on you,” he continued, “which means you, in turn, have made me proud.”

You smiled slightly at his comment, before adding another; “thank you, sir.”

He smiled, clicking the side of his glass against your own and raising it to his lips and taking a small sip. You followed his example and brought the liquid to your lips and taking a sip, savouring the smoky and burning liquid on your tongue before swallowing it.

You both sat in comfortable silence as you sipped at your rum.

“What do you make of the cadet, Koby?” he asked you with a small twinkle in his eyes.

You searched your mind for an adequate response, thinking only of words of absolute praise. You can admit to only yourself that you harboured more than the feelings of comradery for the cadet, but you would never express those to a commanding officer.

“I was taken with him immediately, as you recall,” you said, nodding your chin to the Vice-Admiral.

“Yes I do remember that,” he confirmed, bringing the glass again to his lips.

“His strength has improved,” you added, “he pushes himself further in physical training than any of the others, although they all give me their strength. He’s determined, experienced in sea bearing activities and eager to learn.”

“That he is,” Garp smiled into his glass.

You finished your glasses and reflected on the various months of strenuous training you had provided to break in the cadets for several more minutes before Garp dismissed you to retire for the evening meal.

“There looks like there’s a storm brewing,” Garp said, gesturing out his window towards the grey clouds eclipsing the once clear sky, “go get some dinner before making sure everything is fastened to brace for some choppy waves.”

“Yes, sir,” you said as he dismissed you.

You walked down the corridor of the large ship towards the dining quarters. The waves began to pick up, clashing against the wooden frame of the ship and rocking you slightly as you walked down the hall. You held onto the side of the ship to brace yourself against the hull, steadying your movement over as another choppy wave flung itself against the ship. After pausing, you continued to make your way towards the dining hall. Turning one final corner, another large wave seemingly threw you from your feet. You attempted to brace your body, in the process colliding your form directly into the chest of the circular glass-wearing, pink-haired cadet.

“Apologies, Lieutenant,” he said, stepping back from your close proximity and saluting to you to the best of his abilities. You smiled warmly at the cadet.

“At ease, Koby,” you chuckled slightly at his immediate reaction, “it was my fault. I was miles away and these waves don’t help either.”

He released a nervous chuckle from between his lips and smiled at you. You collected yourself and used his arms to steady yourself and rode out the final reverberations of the wave as it quietened.

“I don’t think I have ever expressed this to you before,” you began, bringing his blue irises to rest on your own, “I’m truly proud of you. You’ve come so far and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed watching you flourish under my instruction.”

He gasped slightly at the affirming words you were bestowing onto him. You released his forearms from your grip with a light chuckle, nodding to him in thanks for allowing you to brace yourself against him.

“Thank you, lieutenant,” he said with a warm smile, eyes shining brightly at your compliment. You smiled warmly at him as you watched him beam in the ambiance of the compliment.

“I-I can honestly say,” he stuttered with a smile, “I have enjoyed having you break me. I-I’d do anything for you.”

He froze after speaking those words, his smile dropped and a tinge of red overcame his features. You widened your eyes at his confession.

“I didn’t mean it l-like that,” he spluttered out his words hurriedly, “I mean, I would follow your commands. I would do anything to continue to make you proud-.”

You creased your brows with a small smile as you watched the cadet continue to use a hypothetical shovel to dig a deeper hole for himself, choosing to remain silent; giving him all the time he needs to find the correct words he wished to express toward you.

“-The marines, Ma’am!” he continued to correct himself, “-to make the marine’s proud. I would follow you to the ends of the earth to make the marines proud.”

You broadened your smile at him, enjoying watching him squirm slightly while falling over his words. As he continued to depict his affections for you, and you refused to smother the growing feeling of affection rising in your chest for the pink-haired cadet. As he continued to spur words of adoration for you, the well seemingly erupted as your body tingled with an almost giddiness you had not experienced prior.

“I just-,” he halted his words, “I just want you to know how much you mean to me-.”

You giggled slightly at his words. The waves began to swell again and clash against the wooden ship once more, your bodies both swaying slightly as you rode through them together, interlocking your knees to steady yourselves against the impact.

“-to all of the cadets, Ma’am,” he furrowed his brows and avoided your eye contact by looking all throughout the empty hall; focussing on anything other than your gaze. The waves began to dissipate once more, allowing you to steady yourselves. Koby continued to blink sporadically around the cabin and avoid your gaze in an attempt to stifle his flushed emotions.

You reached up with your left hand and placed it on his right shoulder, immediately bringing his rose-tinged attention to fixate on your face. He gazed into your eyes, triangulating down to your lips and holding his attention there slightly as he did the first day he met you before bringing his blue orbs back up to your knowing eyes.

This was not the first time a subordinate had developed feelings of affection towards you, especially as you trained them over the course of several months. It was, however, the first time you felt yourself reciprocate the affections of a crewman; and a cadet at that.

“It’s ok, Koby,” you reassured him with a fond smile, quirking your head to the side in amusement. You allowed a momentary softness in your formal demeaner as you gazed into the affectionate, timid eyes of the pink-haired cadet. He flittered his sights to the placement of your hand against his shoulder, feeling the warmth you offered so freely to him before looking back to your face.

He switched, flittering his eyes between focussing on one of your irises before swapping to the other nervously.

The waves again began to swell aboard the vessel, prompting you to release the cadet from your grip and look to your surroundings to ensure the rigging to be completely secure in the lower decks. He followed your gaze slightly, focussing on the rattling chains adorning the walls as they shook in sync with the waves.

“Lieutenant?” he asked you suddenly.

Your face adorned a slight amount of unease at the large swell of the waves breaking against the hull of the ship. You reached again to Koby’s shoulder and brought his body against yours while you both braced for the swelling impact of the approaching tidal waves. You frowned in determination and fixed your sights to the stairs leading to the upper deck. You saw water begin to flow down the steps and enter into the lower decks, indicating an object not correctly fastened above the chambers below.

“Stay below decks, Koby,” you commented before releasing your grip from his shoulder for the third time since you interacted with him.

“Ma’am?” he asked you, focussing on fixating his gaze following your own.

“Cadet, I need to go and secure the loose object above decks,” you said, turning to look directly in his eyes, “stay below deck and stay safe,” you emphasized your final instruction.

You began to brace yourself against the walls as you were thrust into them from the swelling waves brought onto you. You wiped stray hairs falling into your face that became damp with offensive seawater away from your vision and pulled your body above deck by the ropes adorning the walls.

While maintaining a blissful ignorance to your surroundings, you were unaware that the cadet you instructed moments prior to remain secure within crew quarters disregarded your orders and followed closely behind you.

As you brought yourself above the deck, you noticed several weighted cannons had become loose at their rigging, prompting you to spring into action to resecure them in place. Squeezing your eyes shut between sprays of sour seawater as they splashed onto your face, you paid them no mind as you continued to make safe the cannons by securing them with complex knots.

While securing the last cannon in place, you felt the true weight of the object as it barrelled into you, successfully trapping you between the polished wooden frame of the ship. Freshwater sprayed onto your face as the clouds above swelled the substance over your face, combining the with the prior saltwater from the swells to successfully shield your vision from any approaching figureheads.

The surrounding bellowing clashes of thunderous clouds combining with the swelled waves provided no response from your struggle against the weight of the final cannon. You felt yourself begin to panic slightly under the weight of the cylindrical object as it pressed you against the side of the deck.

You witnessed a large wave begin to swell, your eyes widening at the sheer size of it. Before you could utter a sound of plea for rescue, you noticed a truss of candy-pink damp hair field your vision. You felt the cadet audibly strain against the weight of the cannon, utilising all of his strength to pull the object from its hold on your body.

“Koby, what are you doing here?!” you barked at him in surprise, “I ordered you to remain below deck!”

“With all due respect, lieutenant,” he said while grunting, pulling the cannon from your body by issuing all of his strength, “you can’t do everything alone.”

You nodded at him, still with a frown adorning your features as you both utilised the reserves of your strength to pry the weapon from crushing your body.

You managed to feel the cannon pull away from your body, meeting each other’s gaze with a laugh of relief. The relief, however, was short lived as the large swelling wave thrust itself against the stern of the ship and managed to sweep you from your feet and carry you overboard into the dangerous waters.

“Man overboard! Lieutenant overboard!” reverberated in your ears as you felt yourself be pulled beneath the surface, your senses becoming overwhelmed with the pressure of the water below. Although you were a confident swimmer, you felt yourself continually be pulled beneath the surface of the water; unable to claim a breath of air to sustain your lungs. As your vision began to spot with darkened circles, you saw a small object join you beneath the surface of the water; an arm claiming your body and bring you to rise to the surface. Your vision became clouded and you found yourself succumbed to the darkness the water had desired to bestow before you.

Before your body could comprehend what was happening to it, you found yourself suddenly thrown back against a hard surface. You had no idea if you were dead or merely unconscious for some time. All you were alerted to was a pair of soft lips against your own as you felt air enter your lungs as water sprayed onto your face.

“Breathe, lieutenant!” you heard orders being thrust onto you, “please breathe!”

You coughed slightly, ridding your lungs of the toxic seawater. You rolled onto your side as you continued spluttering up the liquid consumed by the chasms within your chest. You heard a sigh of relief from the form above you while you gasped for breath and continued your coughing.

After you inhaled a burning breath into your chest, you rolled onto your back as you felt the waves subside. You watched a small eye in the clouds above begin to form, flowing beams of warm rays from the sun onto your skin as you continued to inhale the air surrounding your body. You shut your eyes and focussed on deeply inhaling life-sustaining oxygen before reopening your eyes and focussing on the cadet kneeling in front of your reclined form.

You narrowed your eyes, noticing the pink-haired cadet no longer supported his spectacles on his face and his uniform was incredibly damp.

“Koby?” you breathlessly asked him, confirming the individual was exactly who they presented themselves to be. You searched his eyes for security, noticing his waterline was slightly red.

“Lieutenant,” he gasped, eyes wide and an air of anxiety pronounced over his features.

“You disobeyed a direct order,” you reprimanded him sternly, bringing your elbows up below your torso to rise your chest from its reclined position below you, “why did you disobey my direct order?”

He immediately bowed his head before you in apologies, bringing your attention to a slight sniff from his nose as his shoulders began to shake slightly.

“Because I couldn’t let you go,” he murmured while maintaining his concentration on the wood below you, refusing to bring his sights to gaze upon your own.

You brought your fingertips to your mouth and traced the outline of your parted lips. You noticed a slight swell beneath your fingertips, indicating a pressure had been applied to your body.

“I was down, wasn’t I?” you asked him, eyes widened in shock.

“Yes, Ma’am,” you heard him confirm in a low tone above a whisper.

“How long was I down?” you asked him, releasing your lips from beneath your fingertips.

“Twelve minutes, Ma’am,” he uttered, continuing to keep his head bowed to you. You coughed slightly before lifting your body into a seated position, feeling the weight of your lungs that you believed to be priorly weighed down with seawater.

You gazed to Koby’s form, noticing his bent knuckles as he grasped the polished wooden floors beneath his fingers, his face shrouded by his candy-floss pink hair. He appeared to be trembling slightly at the shoulders, whether it be from the cold water dampening his clothes or from the adrenaline spiking his senses as he brought you back above deck; you were unsure.

“Koby,” you whispered, bringing your hand to his chin, claiming it between your fingers. He stifled his shuddering slightly, his shoulders solidifying at your sudden touch. You lifted his gaze to meet your own, noticing tears had began to well at his glazed-over eyes.

“Why did you dive in for me? The sea could’ve claimed you, too,” you said, releasing his chin from your grip and tracing them gently against the line of his jaw, prompting him to inhale sharply and shut his eyes, leaning into your caress.

“I told you, lieutenant,” he whispered into your palm before reopening his eyes and looking beneath his long eyelashes and baring his blue orbs into your own, “I would follow you to the ends of the earth.”

You upturned your brows at him and offered him a half-smile at the corner of your lips. He looked away from you, turning to the righthand side of the deck.

“Koby-,” you began with a deep sigh, releasing his jaw and cheek from your caress.

“-and I know it’s inappropriate, lieutenant,” he interrupted you with a slight sigh, “but I couldn’t leave you. I-,”

He paused, bringing his gaze back to yours before again declaring; “-I-I love you.”

You felt the air hypothetically this time flee from your chest at his sudden declaration.

“A-and I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way-,” he began, halting his words only at your sudden outburst of adoration. You claimed his shoulders in a warm embrace, holding him against your torso and smoothing over his back.

“Koby,” you again whispered into him, bringing your cheek flush against the side of his pink hair.

“Ma’am,” he responded in a breathily whimper. You released his shoulders from your embrace before bringing your forehead to rest against his own, your eyes closed. You inhaled through your nose, breathing in any anxiety he continued to hold, feeling the waves of his unease dissipate with each passing moment.

You felt him snake his arms around your waist and bring you closer against his body, continuing to press his forehead against your own for as long as you would permit him to do so. You opened your eyes and brought your forehead away from his own, keeping only a few centimetres between you.

“I owe you my life,” you whispered into his face with a warm smile, “and I am willing to spend each moment of the rest of the life I could’ve lost just now to show you just how much love I truly have for you.”

You heard him inhale sharply first before you witnessed how wide his beautiful blue eyes were, beginning to brim slightly at your declaration. You giggled slightly at his reaction, scrunching your nose; teasing him slightly.

“Does that mean I can kiss you?” he innocently asked you in a hurried voice, prompting you to giggle in response.

“Koby,” you half laugh-sighed deeply before hooking your elbow behind his neck and suddenly bringing his face flush with your own. You leant your lips into his and pressed a deep kiss upon him, filled with the adoration you truly held for him. You were apprehensive to express yourself further to deepen the kiss than what he was comfortable with, noting his anxiety in your prior interactions.

His enthusiasm was quickly expressed through his administrations, bringing both of his hands to your lower ribs as he pulled your torso against his own with a small whimper falling between his lips. You smiled into the kiss and gasped into his lips as you unhooked your elbow from behind his neck and opted to cradle his cheeks within your palms. You could feel his body begin to shake with all of the emotion he was holding back, prompting you to respond empathetically as you continued to hold him against.

Koby nearly lost you; not only his superior officer who had trained him so vigorously in his quest to achieve his dream of becoming an elite marine, but the woman he came to truly love. He administered chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth to your unresponsive body for twelve whole minutes before you sucked in a shaky breath and ridded your body from the salt-water your lungs had filled beyond capacity. He cried for you, willing every fibre of his being to bring you back from the brink of death to be at his side.

You felt warm tears freely spill down his cheeks as he continued to press his lips against your own, exchanging angles to deepen your kiss between gasped breaths.

You broke from his lips only to bring your thumbs up to his cheeks and soothe over the free-falling tears he released from his eyes as he was overcome with a tirade of intense emotions. You opted not to speak, but continue to administer a gentle touch over his skin as his body trembled. You kissed his cheeks softly as he whimpered into your touch, bringing his hands to your wrists and gently holding them against his face as he continued to enjoy your touch.

Masterlist is here.

He pressed his lips into each of your palms before looking deeply into your eyes with a broad smile after he worked through the complex emotions, emitting a laugh from his lips in absolute joy as he processed the fact you were returning his affections.

You returned his laugh with a small chuckle of your own as you gazed affectionately into his eyes before bringing your lips to press against his once more as to seal an unspoken promise made between you both.

#koby opla #one piece #x reader #koby one piece #koby x reader #opla #opla fic #monkey d garp #bogard one piece #helmeppo

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